Reply to Re: That Story Game Again
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The metaphorical angel and devil of Clichestenberg sat on his... feather...tops saying exactly what you'd think they'd say, but in quacks. Finally, Dink had enough with the overused story element and ran right up.
"Wow! A duck. Hey, Barnaby, how about some duck instead of bonca tonight?" one of the hunters suggested to a tired looking drunk holding a crossbow to the ground by the handle.
Dink immediately tried running, but the one called Barnaby rose from his stump, flipped his crossbow forward, and fired. The arrow flew directly at Dink until it struck a glowing shield surrounded by orbiting runes. It was Milder, back from the grave and wearing an impressive suit of brightly shining golden plate mail!
Except it wasn't - it was Dink.
"Wow! A duck. Hey, Barnaby, how about some duck instead of bonca tonight?" one of the hunters suggested to a tired looking drunk holding a crossbow to the ground by the handle.
Dink immediately tried running, but the one called Barnaby rose from his stump, flipped his crossbow forward, and fired. The arrow flew directly at Dink until it struck a glowing shield surrounded by orbiting runes. It was Milder, back from the grave and wearing an impressive suit of brightly shining golden plate mail!
Except it wasn't - it was Dink.
