The taste of blood never sat well with me. The taste itself isn’t the issue, tastes a bit like metal. It’s just the idea of someones life-force entering your body. Some tribes drink it to steal their enemies powers…well I’ll tell you what, they can keep it and I’m plenty strong without it. This place, thistle top, had no shortage of the thick liquid flowing through the air. Most of it seeming to land directly down my throat.
It wasn’t hard work to finish laying waste to this place. I feel as though we did something wrong however.
After killing a few more goblins and a giant crab wearing an oh-so-shiney helmet, we figured out how to get to where the goblins and their leaders were trying to find. They were distracted by a giant pile of gold, but we quickly….ok everyone else figured out that it was a diversion and an entry way to a long-forgotten prison.
We had a fight with a big ol’ creature. And he gave us a run for our money. Our meddle was tested, and we passed…but something escaped.
At this point, I feel we should have taken a step back and gone to town for answers. With words like ‘anicent’, and ‘evil’ being thrown around, one tends to forget the word ‘imprisoned’.
With the creature breathing his last breaths, we took the time to figure out a fancy lock. The wall opened up and a man was standing on the other side. He smiled confidently and with a flick of his fingers he disappeared….
What did we unleash on this already troubled world?