Medwyn traces imaginary lines through the air as he rattles off an incantation in a long-forgotten language.
The door to the skeleton room slams, and a quick tug on the handle confirms it to be stuck fast.
Well, that should hold them, I think. Never can tell exactly how long, though. I'm afraid physical altercations are not my forte, so I welcome input from the more rugged members of our party at this juncture.
He then draws a dagger that looks to be ceremonial in nature, and in any case has obviously never seen any real use, as if plucked from the gilded belt of an elderly statesman.
Last edited April 7, 2023 3:30 am