I gritted my teeth, annoyed. The cold breeze swept past me as I stood shivering in the coldness of the rain. Flames had immediately taken refuge, cuddled on Aeron’s lap at the sight of the rain. We sat in a mansion, but the other doors were locked and it smelled of decaying meat, probably for a thousand reasons, the most likely because it was inhabited by a bunch of trolls. Was, because we killed them, originally the front doors were locked as well. But this mansion being supposedly one of the best and comfiest houses in Murnon was chosen, and then we tossed a rock at the window, ignoring the blaring intruder alarm and crawled inside. Through the broken window, a cold breeze swept in, not making our wet clothes and rusting armor any better, already a huge puddle was starting to gather on the dusty floor.
Aria sneezed, and covered herself with a third blanket, she was beginning to get start from being near goblins, dead trolls and ogres, then running around in the freezing rain. Almar was making hot soup for us, and Flames squawked and leapt inside the blazing fireplace. Don’t ask why a phoenix who often flies to the sun and can withstand almost any heat would jump inside a fireplace. I sat annoyed because Aeron was beating me in the board game we were playing, he laughed triumphantly followed by a series of several coughs and wheezes. Not the fierce rain had not only given Aria a cold but Aeron a fever.
The ancient grandfather clock ticked again, it’s annoying ticking and tocking, didn’t help my temper. We fight and kill every troll and ogre in this damn town, then stupid King Grinch want to talk to us, so against our will we were forced to hike ten miles back to the Goblin Grotto, where King Galgorbrith planned to backstab us and kill us, but when Aeron and me engage and defeat about ten goblins, he calls it off and lies by saying he was testing us, then sends us off into the rainy night and lets us stay in Murnon while the goblins have a huge party in the center of the town without inviting us. With no other choice we break into a mansion and stay here until tomorrow when the rain stops, restock, then grab a ship to the Forbidden Lands. I sighed, not to mention Aeron was creaming me in this stupid board game called something weird in Troll language, I think I was beginning to smell like zombie (not to mention I was scared to step foot inside a large bathtub infested by trolls, hey would you want touch some soap used by Shrek? I didn’t think so), Flames was tossing me an evil look, and Almar’s soup was beginning to smell like griffon dung (one look at Galdrin’s and you’ll know it’s not the most pleasant thing in Astrania, heck I almost thought it was chocolate when I was two, tricked by stupid Barlistan, lucky for me mom caught on and Barlistan was forced to scrub the floors clean from the palace for a month :) ).
“Pentus, you haven’t touched your soup,” Almar gave me a concerned look.
“You haven’t either,” I defended myself.
“That’s because it’s disgusting, you don’t want to know what’s in there,” Almar chuckled. Aeron cast Almar a fishy look and spat out the soup in his mouth.
“Your not cooking anymore, I bet you don’t even have a license,” Aeron choked.
“You guys are so immature,” Aria sighed, “fine I’ll cook! I’ll just make some sandwiches or something.”
“Good luck,” scoffed Almar, “all these fat trolls and ogres have in their storage is dead meat and grass. Most of the meat is human and some others are animals best left alone and out of meals. Unless you’d want to skin ornabors, or cut gardoliths open, or cook Kulnars.”
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Dark Magic and Assassins of Akranhor (Book 2 of the Shadow Chronicles)Fantasy
The 2nd Installment to the Book 1 of the Shadow Chronicles. . . A new adventure writ in shadows, wielded by steel, and awaited in betrayal shakes Astrania once more. . . Pentus once again finds himself trapped in an inevitable war between the Emp...