The last twelve hours of Eric’s life had been a horrible nightmare and it didn’t look like things were going to get better anytime soon.
The attack started in the middle of the night, when most of the village was asleep, Eric included. He woke up to the agonizing sound of infernal tongue being screeched out across the village. A quick glance out the window revealed a horde of tiny red men, armed with spears, scurrying down the town’s only street. The demons were small, but vicious, easily able to bring down men twice their own size. They were followed by a half dozen dark elves in black robes, flinging fire spells into wooden homes to flush the villagers out of hiding.
Those who didn’t want to burn to death, fled into the street. Those who came out wielding weapons, were cut down. Those who couldn’t fight, like Eric, were pinned down and captured. Some villagers that lived on the outskirts managed to flee, but the little red demons chased after them. Eric wished them the best, but from the screams he heard through the forest’s gloom, he wasn’t exactly hopeful about their fates.
The captives were all crammed together in the blacksmith’s home. It had walls of brick, and a roof clad in thinly hammered copper sheets. It was one of the only structures in the village impervious to fire. Inside, Eric huddled next to his surviving neighbours, helplessly awaiting whatever fate these raiders had for them.
Nearly an hour after the attack, two women were dragged in. They were two of the villagers that ran into the woods, pursued by the spear wielding demons. There was Rose, a young woman of marrying age who most of the young men in town had a secret crush on, and there was Rebecca, wife of the village tailor, and mother of two. Eric’s heart sank. Her husband and her kids weren’t with her.
Both women were dishevelled, their dresses had been torn open and were now held closed to preserve their modesty. They were both covered in bruises along their arms and legs. Neither of them spoke… Neither of them responded in any way. Eric wasn’t about to ask what happened. It was obvious enough that the demons indulged themselves with the fleeing women before they were brought back to the village. Each woman chose a corner, and stayed there, curling up and making themselves as small as possible.
Why did these monsters bother to capture them alive? It wasn’t long before Eric found out they weren’t spared out of mercy…
Starting with the more dangerous looking, or defiant villagers, the townsfolk were led out of the house in groups of five. When the screams started, Eric managed to worm his way over to a window to witness their fates.
The villagers were chained in place around a magic circle. Inscribed within the circle, among a complex weave of magic symbols, was a five pointed star. One villager was forced to kneel at each point of the star. With the sacrifices in position, one of the evil mages activated the magic, and the five villagers died screaming while the blood drained from their bodies. It poured from their eyes, ears, nose, and other more unspeakable orifices, pooling in the centre of the circle. The resulting corpses were pale and bloodless, twisted in agony, with tears of blood and faces frozen in a permanent scream.
The monsters that appeared inside the circle afterwards were completely different than the little red demons. These were monsters among monsters, on a completely different level than their lesser kin.
The first demon summoned was beautiful and terrible in equal part. Beautiful beyond mortal ken, with skin as pristine as polished marble, but with an unmistakeable cruelty in his sapphire blue eyes. Black feathered wings sprouted from his back, his shape a mockery of the gods’ own angelic servants.
The second demon summoned was a titan of impossible size. He was a giant, barely fitting inside the summoning circle, and standing taller than any building in the village, at least 30 feet high. Like the smaller demons, his skin was red, with black horns, and black claws on his fingertips. He was naked, but from the waist down his skin was hidden under a thick layer of black fur. His feet were cloven hooves, and the footprint alone was the size of a wheelbarrow.
The third demon was a knight in black armor astride a demonic horse. He had a more subdued appearance than his peers. Only the glowing red eyes, and ominous aura betrayed this creature’s inhumanity.
After the third summoning, four of the elves left, taking most of the little red demons and the three greater nightmares with them. At first Eric was relieved, hoping these bastards had gotten what they wanted. Unfortunately, the remaining two elves gathered up another five townspeople, and placed them in the circle once more.
The fourth demon summoned was another knight in black. He was similar to his kin, save for the design of his armor. This one was covered in spikes, while the previous knight had armor in a smoother, more conventional design.
For the fifth summoning it was Eric’s turn to die. He didn’t have the will to resist as the elves and their demons dragged him into position next to the other four victims. He was shackled in iron, tethered to anchors hammered deep into the dirt, forced to kneel. An entire family would die alongside him. Harvey, the baker, Dana, his wife, and their two boys. Instead of panic and terror, Eric felt numb. He idly wondered what sort of monster his life would be traded for.
Then he heard the roar.
The sound broke him from his stupor and chilled him to the core. His conscious mind couldn’t recognize the source, but his unconscious mind told him to run, and to run quickly. He desperately thrashed in his chains. A calamity was approaching, and nothing would survive once it arrived.
Despite his desperation, Eric made no progress towards his escape. At least his death was delayed, thanks to the interruption. The two elves left the villagers behind, rushing off to manage their minions and deal with the source of that terrible sound. Eric watched, cold sweat soaking through his shirt, waiting for the monster to appear.
She wasn’t what he expected.
Eric’s unconscious mind screamed as he watched her stalk through the shadows behind the mages. His conscious mind was confused. All things considered, she was pretty normal. She was a girl in a tattered dress, human in appearance aside from her claws and horns. The demon blood splatters that covered her body were evidence enough that she was more dangerous than she looked, but at first glance she was less scary than even the little red spear demons.
And then she threw a brick. With her bare hands (claws?) she launched it like a stone from a sling, or an arrow from a bow. The mage that killed so many of the villagers and burned so many homes died without even putting up a fight.
What followed was a scene of carnage and brutality that immediately changed Eric’s perception of the demon girl. His instincts were right. This was the cataclysm the ominous roar predicted. She was faster and stronger than Eric thought possible, his eyes could barely track her as she moved. At one point the knight and his horse nearly ripped off her arm, and Eric watched it regrow. She wasn’t just strong, she was unkillable.
With the battle over, the demon girl looked over the carnage with a content grin. Eric saw her glance over the villagers, still bound and helpless. When her gaze fell on him, Eric wanted to shrink away. The demon’s eyes were sharp and predatory, and they lingered on him more than the others. She was hungry and Eric hoped he didn’t look tasty.
As if to confirm his fears, the demon bent down and began cannibalizing her fellow demon. Eric watched the girl eat, black blood dripping down her chin and over her breasts. In a different context, this monster might have been attractive. The shredded dress revealed hints of a very nice figure beneath, every so often a nipple would peek out from behind one of the torn shreds of fabric. But watching the girl tear apart a demon with her teeth alone, drenching herself in blood, killed any lustful thoughts immediately.
By this point, Eric’s distress had reached some sort of plateau. He’d seen so many terrifying impossible things by this point, that he barely even registered the fact that the girl ate a giant muscular man, and his equally giant horse with no apparent digestive issues. The demon left, and returned minutes later dragging a pile of smaller demon bodies, which she then ate as well.
When the demons were finished, she moved on to the human corpses. Eric watched the delight on her face as she took the first bite, and then the disappointment on her face as she swallowed. Maybe the bloodless corpses the sacrificial ritual left behind weren’t that tasty. Eric briefly recognized she was eating humans in front of him, but he was already at maximum horror, there was simply nowhere else to go horror-wise.
Eric actually heard her moan when she ate the elven mages. Perhaps elves were tasty? Eric didn’t really want to know.
After an hour, the sun had fully risen, and the town square was empty of bodies. 12 demons, 20 humans, two elves, and one demonic horse, vanished into the slim little lady’s tummy. The girl patted her stomach, stretched her arms up lazily, and started walking towards the blacksmith’s house where the villagers were bound. Uh oh, she wasn’t done eating… They were all going to die.
The villagers inside the house screamed as she approached. Halfway there, she stopped, looked down at herself and turned around. The demon girl walked up to the well on the opposite edge of the town square, drew a bucket of water, and dumped it over herself. She repeated the process until the blood was all gone, revealing the smooth alabaster skin beneath. Eric remained horrified, but he had to admit, she looked a bit better without the blood.
The screams resumed as the demon girl wandered into the blacksmith’s hut. Seconds later, unbound villagers ran from the house, huddling together in the square, and whimpering nervously. Eric didn’t believe it, was she letting the villagers go? Was this monster here to rescue them?
With the villagers inside the blacksmith’s house set free, the demon girl walked towards Eric and the four others bound in the circle. Eric watched the girl’s powerful muscles strain and pull apart the heavy chains binding the four other victims next to him. She then turned to Eric, saving him for last.
She easily tore apart the chain tethering Eric to the ground but stopped there. She didn’t remove the manacles binding his arms behind him. Eric’s eyes went wide. This was different. What was going to happen?
The demon girl circled around to Eric’s front, and squatted down to his level. She looked deeply in his eyes, inches away from his face. Eric’s glanced at her lips. They were pretty lips, but he couldn’t help but remember how easily she could bite through human flesh. The demon girl drew herself closer, placing her lips against his vulnerable neck. That’s it! He was dead.
To Eric’s surprise, she didn’t bite him. Instead she inhaled deeply, catching a noseful of his scent. Eric’s body remained tense, not sure how to react. He’d never had a woman walk up to him and smell him before.
The demon girl moved back, looking into Eric’s eyes again. “I’m going to make you my plaything,” she whispered, with a smile.
“I’m sorry… what?” Eric’s jaw dropped.
“You… are… my… toy…” she said, taking her time to enunciate each syllable. Her voice was sultry and playful, completely out of character for the snarling monster that had just slaughtered a village full of demons.
“Uh… well uh…” Eric realized he was blushing. Did she mean… that? The other male demons raped two of the women captives, so it made sense in a way… But why him? He wasn’t exactly the manliest, or the most experienced with women. He wasn’t sure how to react.
“Do you object to being my toy?” The demon girl’s voice lost its lust and turned cold. Her unflinching stare suddenly became very scary.
“No Ma’am!” Eric replied immediately. Being a toy was better than being a meal.
The demon smiled happily, the scary look vanished from her eyes, and Eric allowed himself to breathe again.
As Eric pictured the bruises and scratches covering the two female victims who had been recaptured earlier, a creeping dread wormed its way into his gut. He wasn’t going to be killed immediately, but now he had to worry about what exactly this demon intended to do to him. If he didn’t struggle, would she spare him the abuse? If not, what horrible tortures did she plan to inflict on her ‘toy’?
“W-what are you going to do to me?” Eric stammered.
The demon girl didn’t answer the question. Instead, she straightened up, standing in front of the bound kneeling man. The demon girl bit her lip and stepped forward, lifting the hem of her dress while closing the distance between them.
Eric caught a brief glimpse of the girl’s intimate parts before she pressed forward and casually straddled his face. His vision went dark as the black skirt fell above his head. A clawed hand reached behind his skull to pull him forward and prevent retreat. His gasp of surprise was cut off. Something hot and wet pressed against his lips.
Stolen novel; please report.
“Lick,” the demon girl commanded. Eric didn’t hesitate to obey.
He opened his mouth and ran his tongue between the demon’s pussy lips. The demon’s skin was hot, almost burning to the touch, and her pussy was even more so. She was already turned on, incredibly so, as each brush of his tongue lapped up the demon’s wetness. She tasted… spicy? No, not really… but there wasn’t really a better way to describe it. It was… unique, and not entirely unpleasant.
His mind was a swirl of conflicting emotions. On one hand, yay for pussy, yay for sex! On the other hand, he was scared out of his mind. To disappoint the monster girl probably meant death. Still, he was relived that this was all she demanded of him for now. Being asked to pleasure an attractive scary woman was hardly the worst thing that could have happened to him today.
The other townsfolk were nowhere to be found, happy to leave him to his fate. Likely, they were too scared to be near this monster, and wanted to avoid her attention while she was distracted. This suited Eric just fine; he wasn’t exactly an exhibitionist. It’s not like they’d be able to ‘save’ him even if they wanted to. Plus, he didn’t even really know if he wanted to be ‘saved’ right now.
He closed his eyes, pushed the uncertainty from his mind, and focused on pleasing his captor. Eric licked up to her clit, circling it with his tongue before closing his lips around it. A quiet moan escaped from the demon’s mouth. He was clearly doing something right. The clawed hand combed through his hair, massaging his head. The demon girl grinded herself into him, increasing her own stimulation. Eric gently sucked and licked her bud. He felt demonic love juice dripping down his chin.
Suddenly, the pressure increased, almost crushing him against the demon’s cunt. The grinding became faster and more aggressive. Her soft pubic mound now blocked his nose, preventing him from drawing breath. The claws on his head dug in painfully. Demonic thighs twitched and trembled next to him. Panicked, Eric tried to pull himself away and breathe again, but it was useless. Her grip was stronger than the shackles binding his arms.
Thankfully, after a few seconds of panic, the clawed hand released him, letting him fall backwards while he caught his breath. At the same time, the demoness herself staggered back. She had a lewd smile of satisfaction and looked a bit shaky on her feet, still twitching occasionally from the orgasmic aftershocks.
“Good. I’m… aah… satisfied for now.” The demoness sighed contently, crouched next to Eric again and tore the last of his restraints apart.
“Uuh thanks…” Eric straightened up into a sitting position and wiped the girl juice off his chin. “I can’t believe we just… I don’t even know your name,” he mumbled quietly.
“Lilizath,” she replied with a friendly smile. “You can call me Lily if you want.”
“Oh! Uuh… my name’s Eric.”
“I know,” the demon girl replied. “The young humans told me your name.”
“Young humans?” Eric asked, his voice perking up.
“Yeah,” the demon girl said, with an indifferent shrug. “I think the girl was Milly, and the boy was… Boy. They hid in the forest before I attacked, probably still alive.”
Rebecca’s kids! They survived!
“I have to tell their mother! We have to find them!” Eric sprang to his feet, ready to run off. He stopped himself, glancing over his shoulder at the demon girl nervously. “Can I… can I go?”
Lily, the demon, yawned. “Yeah sure, I’m tired after eating so much. Now that you helped me relax, I’m going to have a nap. I’ll find you again when I’m ready to use you more.”
Having received the demon’s permission, Eric ran off to find the other villagers.
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“Peter! Milly!” Rebecca called out frantically while she sprinted across the field to the woods. Several of the village men chased after her, barely able to keep up.
Eric hoped the kids were still alive. Rebecca was a hollow shell after surviving the Imp demons’ assault. Now that there was some hope of her kids being alive and unharmed, she was animated.
When Eric returned from… ‘servicing’ the demoness, the townsfolk gave him sympathetic looks. Looking at the state of the two girls that survived the Imp encounters, he could understand what they were thinking. Demons, especially Wrath demons, were cruel and sadistic by nature. They weren’t known to be gentle lovers. Their concern wasn’t warranted in his case. Eric thought the demoness treated him quite well, all things considered.
“Mom!”
A tearful boy and girl charged out of the bushes, and pounced on their mother, nearly knocking her down. The two kids looked dirty and scared, but otherwise unharmed. Lily hadn’t abused them either, it seemed; another point in her favour. Eric smiled. Finally, after all this horribleness, there was a small glimmer of mercy. Rebecca lost her husband, was brutally assaulted, but she didn’t lose her kids. She still had a family.
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Eric kicked through the pile of ashes. The other villagers were spread out, doing the same to their own ash piles.
Like nearly every other structure in the village, Eric’s little shack, and nearly everything inside it, was gone. The village had unanimously decided to pack up a caravan and leave together for a safer town. The demons were still out there, and they could come back anytime. This village was gone. They were still arguing about it, but Eric supposed they’d eventually decide to head to Befield. It was a larger town close by, with a wall and a town guard. He didn’t know if it could hold off a demon army, but it would be better than an isolated little hamlet like this.
Lily the demoness was still sleeping, curled up near a smouldering pile of embers. Some part of Eric was actually hoping she’d want to ‘use’ him again when she woke up. The rest of him wanted to slap him for being stupid. That was just asking for trouble.
He rummaged underneath his ruined sleeping cot and pulled out a small charred satchel. The leather bag disintegrated on contact, spilling out a small shower of coins. Thankfully, silver didn’t burn. He would have liked to save up more before putting his plan into action, but it was probably time to move on to a larger city on the safer side of the mountains and try to start a career as a proper bard.
He scooped up the coins, stuffing them into a burlap sack he took from the town granary. Thankfully the town’s food supply, while partially looted, was at least spared the fire. Eric’s books of poems, including the songs he penned were all ash now. That was okay, they were still in his heart. There was only one thing he really needed now. He desperately hoped it survived.
Digging under his bed once more, he dug out his lute. It was… damaged, but not destroyed. The sheep gut strings had snapped from the heat, and the flames had licked along the top side, charring the wood black. It seemed to be whole and intact though, the burnt wood giving it a unique new finish too. Hopefully he still had…
Eric dug under the bed again, and pulled out a small sealed box, containing a replacement set of strings he’d bought recently. Huzzah! They survived too! The snapped ones were getting old anyway. Delicately, the bard re-strung Gloria, his precious lute.
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Patricia, once again, returned to the scene of the crime. She stood on the edge of the crater. Her adoptive family’s gravesite. And now she was going grave robbing.
“Woah… this is fucked,” the always insightful Tanya commented upon seeing the destruction.
“Yes… Yes it is,” Patricia replied.
There were other looters here too. It was inevitable. The Montagne family was rich. Patricia tried not to let it bother her, it’s not like they were going to find anything. That fire had been hot enough to melt stone and vaporize most metals.
This morning the two of them went to the market to spend last night’s ill-gotten gold. Most of the ‘Drake’ gang members didn’t have much on them, but their leader, the one Tanya killed with a thrown shortsword, was apparently carrying the bulk of the loot. They had a ‘fortune’ of 25 entire gold pieces to their name.
Both ladies bought themselves socks, underwear, and a few changes of clothes. Tanya got herself a backpack, survival supplies, and a whetstone to sharpen her new blades. She also took a scavenged set of chain mail to a blacksmith to get it refitted to her size. She claimed a bastard sword and a dagger for herself. The former was slung across her back, and the latter was tucked away inside the backpack. They sold the rest of the scavenged weapons.
Patricia commissioned two more maid outfits for herself. She’d spent the last 80 years dressed as maid, and it had been the happiest years of her life. She knew it was strange, but she decided she’d continue wearing the uniform, as a tribute of sorts. She also got herself a small finely woven silk pouch. If what she suspected was true, she’d need it.
She was here at the grave site to pick up one last item. An old heirloom she’d hidden in the house’s foundation years ago. One that no amount of money could replace. She activated Arcane Sight and looked around. He lips curled into a grimace. No auras. It was damaged, as expected.
Patricia walked around the edge of the crater, keeping a close eye on the fence lining edge of the estate grounds, her only remaining reference points. When she found the spot, she climbed down the edge of the crater, descending to ‘basement’ level, and searched around.
“So… where am I digging?” Tanya asked, holding up the shovel they borrowed from one of Patricia’s farmer acquaintances.
Patricia quickly scanned her surroundings. No signs of digging nearby, that means nobody found it.
“Don’t know yet,” she replied, “we’re going to have to do this the hard way.”
Patricia sat down cross legged and closed her eyes to concentrate.
“What are you doing?” Tanya asked, breaking Patricia’s concentration and causing the spell to fizzle out before it began.
“Lesser Detect Metal,” the elf grumbled. “It’s a lower tier divination spell I happen to know. I’ll need about an hour to complete it. You can go take a nap or something.”
“An hour?” Tanya exclaimed. “I thought you were supposed to be Miss Super Wizard, why does it take an hour?”
“I’m a Pyromancer, specialized in exploding people, I’m not a Diviner,” Patricia replied, somewhat more defensively than she intended, “I learned some low tier divination stuff as part of a proper well rounded magical education, but I haven’t put in the decades of effort needed to master it. I know enough to get by, so just be patient.”
Tanya wandered back up the side of the crater, grumbling something about prissy mages. Patricia settled back into her concentration. Half a minute later, she heard the scraping sound of a sword being sharpened with a whetstone. Tanya was probably fixing up her recently looted bastard sword.
Patricia concentrated hard on her spell for the next hour. Slowly… very slowly… a faint signal came into focus inside her mind. A faint feeling of presence, resonating from the very rare metal Patricia was scanning for.
Abyssal Adamantine was a wonderful material. Only the most elite of the demonic horde carried Adamantine weapons. They were rare, even among greater demons, reserved for only the nastiest of the nasty. It was much heavier than steel, but impossibly strong and hard when forged properly. Due to its incredibly high melting point, forging it was obviously a challenge, but thanks to that melting point, it might be the only thing to have survived the Witchfire Fireball’s devastation.
“Tanya,” Patricia called out. “It’s over here.”
Patricia returned to her feet and walked as close as she could to the buried object. Tanya appeared over the lip of the crater, and Patricia pointed.
“Here.”
“Why am I the one digging?” Tanya asked.
“Because you’re so strong and sexy,” Patricia replied, swaying her hips, posing like the dainty little damsel she was while sounding as flirty as possible.
“Fuck you,” Tanya grumbled. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”
“Thank you! It’s about two feet in, and… this high off the ground,” Patricia said, gesturing the height to Tanya. “Careful once you get close, we don’t want to lose any shards.”
Tanya got to work, while Patricia fussed about, looking over her shoulder. After five minutes of digging, Patricia yanked Tanya’s shovel away, having spotted her prize.
“That’s it!” Patricia dove to her knees and started digging through the loose ashy soil with her bare hands.
The dark elf excavated the object with meticulous care, treating it like an extremely rare and powerful artifact from a dead civilization. It actually was, so despite Tanya rolling her eyes, Patricia took her time.
The object that Patricia uncovered was a long mage’s staff. It was a smooth solid column, that split into twisting strands near the top. The entire thing was made from rune inscribed black metal. At first glance, one could mistake it for wrought iron, but the metal itself was far darker, as black as the Abyss itself. At the staff’s tip, nestled in the twisting tendrils of adamantine was the shattered remains of a gemstone, damaged by heat. It was a Cerulean Diamond, an incredibly rare gem, and this specific one was about the size of her fist. It was once precisely cut to minimize magical interference, though that obviously wasn’t the case anymore. Even in its shattered state, it was probably still worth a fortune.
“There it is,” Patricia said proudly. “Riftwatcher. The staff of my late mentor, Grandmaster Luthon, inherited by yours truly after his death. It’s an original artifact from the dark elven empire, 400 years old, forged from Abyssal Adamantine, and topped with a Cerulean Diamond focus. It’s a little treasure that I managed to lose and then find again during my journey to the surface. It’s completely irreplaceable and the only thing I have left from my home.”
“Does it still work?” Tanya asked.
“Uuh… no,” Patricia replied, suddenly dejected, “it’s just a pretty stick right now, one with immense sentimental value. That said, I might be able to repair it. I know a technique, but it’s sort of… shoddy? It’s better than nothing though.”
Patricia took out her little silk satchel, and gently gathered up the shattered gemstone pieces.
“Can’t you just put a new gem on it?” Tanya asked.
“Yeah, that would work too,” Patricia said. “Just find me another perfectly cut 3000 carat Cerulean Diamond to replace it and I’ll pop it right in.”
“Uuh… I guess those are hard to find?”
“Basically priceless. Existing stones of this caliber are only in private collections. The last one I heard about was sold for a half-million gold,” Patricia said nonchalantly, knowing the absurd amount was easily twenty times the value of the entire Montagne estate before the explosion. “They’re only found deep underground, so you’d better prepare an expedition into the Hellmouth if you want to find more of them.”
Patricia very carefully moved the largest piece into her silk pouch.
“So you’re going to fix it? How?” Tanya asked.
“I’m going to glue it together,” Patricia explained.
Tanya did not look impressed, “That’ll work?” She asked skeptically.
“Kinda?” Patricia replied. “It’ll mostly work. I just gotta mix up the right kind of glue.”
“What do you need?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Patricia explained. “Silver. I’m just going to melt a couple coins to the right temperature and separate out all the copper, zinc, and who knows what else that the stupid humans, no offence, use to dilute their coinage.”
“Do you know anyone with a forge?” Tanya asked.
“Pyromancer,” Patricia said, pointing to herself smugly with her thumb, “I am the forge.”
Patricia finished picking up gem shards, double and triple checking to make sure she didn’t miss any. If there was a silver lining to this dark cloud, the gemstone at least shattered into large pieces. It was in seven large chunks, and three smaller slivers, so piecing it back together wouldn’t be overly arduous.
Knowing it would get a reaction, Patricia handed Tanya the empty adamantine staff. “Here, hold this.”
Tanya took it gingerly and nearly dropped it, not expecting the weight, “Woah!”
Patricia chucked, “Abyssal Adamantine, aside from the weight, it’s a miracle material. Unfortunately, it’s about twice as dense as steel so it’s hard to use. That staff weighs about 20 lbs.”
“Holy shit, it’s like a mace, I could bludgeon someone to death with this,” Tanya said, gleefully.
“It wouldn’t be the first time it was used that way. It looks delicate, but that metal is damn near indestructible once it’s forged. It’s only a shame that the same couldn’t be said for the gemstone.”
Patricia returned to her feet, tucking the silk satchel away, and brushing off the front of her skirt.
“Behold! The Staff of Bludgeoning,” Tanya said, returning the staff to Patricia.
“Its name is Riftwatcher,” Patricia grumbled.
“Riftwatcher, the great staff of bludgeoning!” Tanya called out, kneeling before the once-great artifact.
Patricia rolled her eyes and decided not to dignify Tanya’s teasing with a response. The two girls climbed their way out of the crater and returned to the inn.