Spouse Aggro

It started out as a pretty enough night, running around doing favors and enjoying the sights of Telon. Then I noticed a note in my journal about some unfinished wizard business. Turns out I was in the middle of a list for some kind of insane magic user, named Galron or Javon…something similar.

Wizards have a damn good memory, so it would be a good idea to finish the task. The giant stone warriors outside of his keep still hated me, so I took my time in sneaking in. Last time we chatted he handed me a bag and asked me to fetch him a dead dwarf. Sure thing, I thought, no big deal.

At this point it would be good to note that I’ve died before, was kicked back to life by a giant gray woman named Grin, and felt generally more gloomy after. Friends tell me I used to laugh all the time, and I’m sure I did, but I just don’t feel as much like giggling as it seems I used to. So now I don’t think too much about destroying other mortals, as long as the victims are far from good people, and the payout is decent. I need money, and money comes from these kind of favors.

So I found the dwarf and told him that the wizard wanted him folded neatly into a bag. Generally, this kind of talk will force the victim to draw his blade. Then, in self defense, I draw mine. Bette sneaks up behind them and I walk off with 150 extra pounds slung on my back.

Turns out that the wizard had many of these victims in mind, and some of them had taken to living under a bridge. Perhaps to hide from the wizard, I don’t know, but providing them with the standard “your body goes in my bag” warning set them into a rage. To be honest, these are no ordinary people. There’s something about them that makes bagging them easier on my shoulders, literally and emotionally. There’s a smell around this part of the countryside, too.

After being sent back to the bridge to dump off the remains of the experiments that the wizard did with these people, I was informed that he found no use for the results. He sent me out for more flesh, and again back to the bridge to dump the evidence. He claimed there was something about the water, something that was interfering with his experiments.

Turns out he was duping me into seeding the bags of flesh in the water, and allowing the magical effects to transform them into some kind of, well, something less pretty than before.

Leftovers, he called them.

Several times I did this, and to be honest I do not know why. To be even more honest, I felt no pains while doing it, I felt fine actually. At one point I was tossing over an arm and caught myself thinking about what I would have for dinner that night. I decided that, after collecting my reward, I would ask the magician about this.

He claimed to have fixed all issues with his experiments, and sent me one last time to fetch three of the bodies. Under the bridge I went, and was attacked immediately.

He giggled when I returned with a full bag. All my actions had primed the flesh, and now it was wholly animated. Somehow he had tricked me into gathering and creating him a batch of bony servants. I felt horrible, but still thought of dinner. He had spun some sort of spell over me, made me his puppet for an afternoon. He snuffed the tiny candle of my emotions for the entire process, and honestly I was glad.

Later, over dinner, I could still smell that smell on my hands.