"You... What?!" Ruchi stuck her slender, dark-elven pinky finger demonstratively into her obsidian ear canal, turning and twisting. She must have misheard. "Break into the library of the Sorcere. Find ancient warnings, I mean, writings, on how to locate a true mummy." Lyr'sa's arms were crossed, her gaze fixed somewhere in the distance, as if thinking of the next step. "Fuck." Ruchi was at a loss for words. "Yes, Ruchi." "What about the Jabbuk d’Sorcere?" Ruchi locked eyes with Lyr'sa. "He's out leading some excursion." "You're serious. You've thought this through, haven't you?" "Mm-hmm." "I see. Well, one thing I've learned is that it's easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission." A crooked smile formed on the priestess lips. "That's... my girl!" Lyr'sa's eyes lit up. "So, what do you need me for?" Ruchi's appetite for mischief was growing. "What do dragons eat? Something that makes them go wild and distracts them with ecstasy." There it was, the question Lyr'sa had been waiting to ask. Ruchi scratched her head and thought for a while. Was this a trap? Drow society was synonymous with traps and treachery. The priestess pondered: A sacrifice, perhaps... Who among us is considered the black sheep? That one is easy; of course it would be... "Sheep!" Ruchi was suddenly giddy with excitement: "A whole herd of sheep, but from the surface. The dragon is used to Elashinn's sheep, but not exotic sheep! The more foreign and different-smelling, the better! Dwarven sheep, elven sheep, riviil-kept sheep. Hell, even orkish sheep."
Beiträge in diesem Thread
|
