What’s the plan? Damas asked as the kobold scurried away.
We check the windmill and hope the dragon doesn’t come home before we’re done.
And if he does? Neither of us is strong enough to kill a dragon.
I know. We’re going to optimistically hope for the best. I marched resolutely through the grass.
Damas glided past me to take the lead. An interesting stance from someone with pee on her hip.
I’m not sure I believe that you didn’t anticipate that result.
His look back was not convincingly innocent.
As we reached the entrance of the windmill, its original door long rusted off, I looked one last time at the cloudy sky overhead. I didn’t sense a dragon, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be on his way.
There is an enchantment on the doorway. Damas twitched his tail as he gazed into the di
