(Enter our heroes, Windtorn and Dark Lion. Hot in pursuit of some Circle of Thorns who have captured a fortune teller. At this point, things seemed pretty routine. Standard go into the cave, rough up few wannabe spell casters, find the hostage and go home.)
"Dark, you see that?"
"See what?"
"That!"
"Where?!"
(Windtorn sighs)
"Oh, you mean the floating skeleton with no legs that fades in and out of existance wailing the whole time?" comments Dark.
"Yes."
"Ah. No."
"No!?"
"I said no, I didn't see it."
"Right."
"Right. Hey Windtorn?"
"Yes?"
"Run."
(later, after much screaming like little girls, the ghost like thing is gone)
"Well, that wasn't so bad," observes Windtorn.
"Says you, that thing was ugly. Next time keep your eyes open and help me fight it instead of sitting there screaming."
"Whatever. Shall we move on, there *is* a fortune teller to rescue here."
"You're right. Let's."
(walking down the corridor)
"Ahem," coughs Windtorn.
"Yes, now *those* I can see."
"Oh those? That's nothing, they're just a few Spectral Demon Lords."
"Right. What's that smell?"
"Sorry, I think I wet myself."
"Run?"
"Hide."
"Hide?"
"Yes Hide."
"From that? What makes you think a Spectral Demon Lord won't find you?"
"What makes you think you can outrun it?"
"Point."
"Is the fortune teller really worth it? I mean, what value do they bring to society. The future's an open book anyway."
"Will you quit whining, now follow me and for pete sake, keep quiet this time."
"Hey, I had it on good authority clockworks have no ears, how was I supposed to know they were going to hear me?"
"Hear you? For cryingout loud you told that clockwork boss his mother was a snowblower and his father was a food processor!"
"Now now, stop yelling, wouldn't want to upset those Demon Lords, the past is the past."
(Enter our heroes, Windtorn and Dark Lion. Hot in pursuit of some Circle of Thorns who have captured a fortune teller. At this point, things seemed pretty routine. Standard go into the cave, rough up few wannabe spell casters, find the hostage and go home.)
"Dark, you see that?"
"See what?"
"That!"
"Where?!"
(Windtorn sighs)
"Oh, you mean the floating skeleton with no legs that fades in and out of existance wailing the whole time?" comments Dark.
"Yes."
"Ah. No."
"No!?"
"I said no, I didn't see it."
"Right."
"Right. Hey Windtorn?"
"Yes?"
"Run."
(later, after much screaming like little girls, the ghost like thing is gone)
"Well, that wasn't so bad," observes Windtorn.
"Says you, that thing was ugly. Next time keep your eyes open and help me fight it instead of sitting there screaming."
"Whatever. Shall we move on, there *is* a fortune teller to rescue here."
"You're right. Let's."
(walking down the corridor)
"Ahem," coughs Windtorn.
"Yes, now *those* I can see."
"Oh those? That's nothing, they're just a few Spectral Demon Lords."
"Right. What's that smell?"
"Sorry, I think I wet myself."
"Run?"
"Hide."
"Hide?"
"Yes Hide."
"From that? What makes you think a Spectral Demon Lord won't find you?"
"What makes you think you can outrun it?"
"Point."
"Is the fortune teller really worth it? I mean, what value do they bring to society. The future's an open book anyway."
"Will you quit whining, now follow me and for pete sake, keep quiet this time."
"Hey, I had it on good authority clockworks have no ears, how was I supposed to know they were going to hear me?"
"Hear you? For cryingout loud you told that clockwork boss his mother was a snowblower and his father was a food processor!"
"Now now, stop yelling, wouldn't want to upset those Demon Lords, the past is the past."
"I better get a free fortune out of this..."