Level 7 - High Scholar of Slipping Logic
'Come in my friend, be seated with your fellows. I am Ruufon and I hope your sleeptravel has refreshed you and washed away the weariness of your wanderings...'
Like magic Methnik's sword passed through that of his foes....All too late, the blade was at his neck, it burnt, stinging like acid, it slivered through skin and muscle. Methnik crumpled to his knees, then to the floor, his eyes greyed over and he heard faint words, maybe those of his foe? 'Your last lesson in this life. Your teacher? A Serivemn'
Each new home prides itself on its idol and as each new home receives its idol, the power within them grows, glows and connects. ...They are the bringers of wonderment and gifts but little do the townsfolk know, for the Shithiran are the takers of everything.