Art of illusion 3.029/15/2023 ![]() ![]() Ceria and Pisces had cleared the ground of the stuff, and it wasn’t snowing like it had last night. Ceria knew that she smelled about half as bad as Pisces, and dried sweat, grime, and unwashed clothing was making her own personal experience unpleasant.Īt least they weren’t camping in the snow again. She’d spent countless nights outside before she passed her second decade, and she’d gone on countless expeditions with the original Horns of Hammerad, tracking monsters, preparing for dungeon dives, and so on.īut she couldn’t remember camping out ever being this pitiful. Plus, if she was going to clean him she might as well start with herself.Ĭeria wasn’t a stranger to roughing it. She could probably conjure some water out of the air, but it would be a waste of mana. Ceria made a face as a wisp of smoke drifted her way. The fire coughed and Pisces sneezed into it. Then she felt as if she could feel something, but it was just her imagination. And when she touched things, that was the worst. But she had to use magic-let it flow into her missing limb-to make it move. But it felt like it was still covered in flesh, sometimes. Then she stared back at her skeletal hand again. It was like Ksmvr expected an attack at any moment.Ĭeria sighed. ![]() He had one of Erin’s kitchen knives on the ground in front of him, and the enchanted iron shortsword next to it. Neatly laid out by the Antinium’s side was a shortbow and arrows planted in the ground, ready to be fired. He wasn’t sleeping as he kept watch, but he was so still that he could have been a statue. Despite the cold winter weather, the former Prognugator sat with his back to the fire, scanning the landscape. In fact, Ceria thought the fire bothered him a bit. In fact, he smelled so bad that even Ksmvr, who didn’t really have much of a sense of smell, was sitting far away. His robes-never too clean at the best of times-were filthy, and he reeked. Hopefully none would come Ceria had tried to camp far enough away from the Ruins of Albez for that, but nasty surprises were always an adventurer’s concern.Īcross the fire, Pisces sat on the ground, mumbling quietly to himself as he reviewed his personal spellbook full of notes and spells he was studying. The hazy smoke drifted up, a beacon to any monsters looking for a hot meal. She looked up at the other two members of the Horns of Hammerad sitting around the small fire they’d built. Even horrible mutilation would be preferable to the current situation. It was just an idle thought, but she was half-contemplating it. She’d probably die instantly in the worst case scenario the shard would lodge in her flesh and brain but fail to kill her. Ceria Springwalker stared down at her skeletal hand and for a brief moment, wondered what would happen if she cast at point blank range at her face. ![]()
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