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- >At the sound of her words you throw your hands up in defeat, a gesture accompanied with the sound of clinking chainmail.
- >With a sigh, your hands return to your sides.
- "Fine. I'll be on standby... I guess."
- >At this you turn and begin walking to the castle library.
- >"A-anon -"
- "No, no, you've got it handled. I understand, don't worry."
- >Hoisting yourself up by the scraps of your dignity and the remains of your self worth, you march into the library to a cadence of jingling metal.
- >As you enter, you seat yourself in your usual spot and grab a nearby book.
- >"Fundamentals of Magic"
- >Oh, fantastic. Huffing you set it down in a clear spot and remove your helmet.
- >As you set it down, you reach down and produce a flask from your the kit on your belt.
- "Ooh, HEALING magic. That's not REAL magic."
- >You punctuate your statement with jazz hands before quickly taking a swig from your flask.
- "Yeah, and who's the first one they come running to the minute they get hurt."
- >With another swig, you adjust the helmet on the table so that it is now facing you.
- "Worst part is, this group only ever gets scratches. Gee mister Cleric, nice to know you've got all that POTENTIAL. Shame we won't recognize it."
- >Rolling your eyes, you lean back and attempt to drown yourself with your liquor.
- >Pulling your lips away from the flask, you briefly look to your helmet.
- "You understand me right?"
- >"Yeah, I hear you buddy."
- >Whipping your head around, you make eye contact with Spike - who appears to be cleaning some shelves.
- >Shrugging you take another sip. It should concern you that the kid is getting used to this.
- >Oh well.
- >The loud jangling of mail accompanies the dull thud of your heavy, rapid footfalls.
- >As you reach the last stretch, you twist back and slam the flanged head of your mace into the back of the troll's knees.
- >Screaming in agony the beast bends forward, only to have his screams silenced by a rapier.
- >The room is quiet sans the subtle sound of smoldering ash and the heavy breathing of you and your companions.
- >Looking over the corpse of the troll you spy the Ranger, Vasquez. Eyeing his slaying assistant, he flags you down.
- >”Hey, nice work out there...”
- >It appears as though he's drawing a blank. Sighing, you open your mouth.
- >”Anonymous.”
- >Wait. That's not your voice.
- >”Anonymous!”
- >Blinking you look up. Or more accurately, over, as it appears that you've fallen asleep at your table.
- >”Hey, you're drooling a little dude. Oh, and you were growling in your sleep, you okay?”
- >Leaning up, you wipe the spittle off your face and survey the potential damage. Nothing on the book, just a small pool on the table.
- “Nah, I'm fine.”
- >”If you say so, man. I mean, you downed that drink waaay faster than normal.”
- >So as not to inconvenience the poor kid you do your best to mop up the drool on the table.
- “Yeah, yeah. How long was I out?”
- >”Not long, 'bout an hour tops.”
- >Surveying the room, it appears to be the case. He's gone from cleaning the dust off to reorganizing. Could be earlier though, that kid is definitely efficient.
- >Grabbing your flask you shake it a little. The sound of droplets shaking is all that greets your ears.
- >Returning the item to it's place in your kit, you stand, smooth out your tabard, and don your helmet.
- “Hey, I'm gonna head into town for a bit.”
- >”Kay.”
- >Leaving the dragon to his work, you open the door only to pause for a brief moment.
- “Uh, you need anything while I'm out?”
- >”Nah, I'm good. Thanks for asking though.”
- >Your mail clinks as you shrug and cross the threshold, closing the library door behind you.
- >Nightmares born of alcoholism or memories you're attempting to purge through alcoholism?
- >Frankly, you aren't certain. Wait, why would that be a nightmare? That was a pretty kick-ass moment, almost as kick-ass as that one time -
- >With a loud CLANG, your helmeted-head smacks into the door of the local bar.
- “Oh sweet merciful gods!”
- >The sudden break from your thoughts has you gripping what would've been your forehead in surprise.
- >Shaking your head slightly, you look up to see a slightly dented door opening inwards and a blonde maned mare poking her head outwards.
- >”Anonymous?”
- “Huh? Yeah, sorry, that caught me off guard there.”
- >”Ha, yeah, I can tell. Come on in.”
- >As you enter the bar, you take your helmet of and tuck it under your arm.
- >Striding past tables with chairs upturned, you head directly for the bar.
- >Taking your usual seat, you watch as the blue-bodied mare saunters up to the counter, opposite you, and produces a shot glass.
- >”So, a Cleric walks into bar...”
- >She flashes you a cheeky smile before sliding the shot of clear liquid towards you.
- “Well, I'd laugh, but I think my voice is little hoarse.”
- >Shooting her a quick grin, you down the shot.
- >”Hehe, classic... So, what's got you down here this early?”
- “Just needed a refill, Cider.”
- >Producing the flask from your kit, you slide it across to the mare.
- >”Just that...”
- >Her eyes dart briefly over to the empty shot glass and the still-full bottle next to it.
- >”... nothing else?”
- “Nope.”
- >With a slight “Huh,” the mare ducks under the bar to retrieve a bottle.
- >”Ahh mehn, ahm -”
- >She attempts to speak, though the liquor bottle in her mouth impedes her ability to enunciate.
- >With huff she sets the bottle down next to your flask.
- >”Ahem. I mean, I'm just a little concerned is all.”
- “If it's about the liver damage, don't worry. I've got MAGIC. I can fix it.”
- “And speaking of fixing things, do you want me to deal with the door on the way out or...?”
- >After filling the flask, she sets the bottle back down on the counter.
- >”Don't worry about it, I'll just -”
- “No, seriously. It's the least I can do. If nothing else, consider it payment for the drink.”
- >With a slight smile, she sighs.
- >”Well, the drink was on the house – but if you insist.”
- >Pocketing your flask, you don your helmet once more and head towards the door.
- >Opening it, you bring the dented side towards you.
- >For a few minutes, you stand there, muttering incantations and making practiced gestures.
- >With one final word, the dent begins to bow outward, eventually returning to the door to it's prior blemish free state.
- >Turning back to see a smiling Apple Cider, you grin a little and offer a small wave before heading out.
- >Stepping out in the bright mid-morning sun, you begin to walk.
- >Satisfying, but still – cantrips. Beginner stuff.
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