Yep, drew Shal Noctis again – my TTRPG character.

Shal is still very much around in Spooky Dice Bag, and a lot has emerged with the character over the past couple of months. Unfortunately I haven’t had the opportunity to update The Scrolls of Noctis in a bit, but once the semester is over I plan on catching up. Shal’s been through some shit and there has been a lot of wild stuff with the character I want to share his perspective on.

Shal has been a fun character to play, for sure. But he is also a fun character to draw. He is one of my favorite characters I’ve created in the past couple of years for sure.

It has been nice to have some time to do some illustrations over the Thanksgiving break. Drawing this character is a pretty nice way to wrap it all up. But anyway, back to the grindstone tomorrow.

Anyway, if you are interested in supporting what I do, you can do so through donations on Ko-Fi. I also take commissions.

The post 2025 Sketchbook #035 – Shal Noctis appeared first on hpkomics.com.

You can listen to the embedded episode below. You can get early access to the Scrolls of Noctis via the podcast’s Patreon.

1498 DR – Day 74,001 – To Strixhaven

Umbra, Randril, and myself traveled back to Strixhaven to obtain some information, while Forte, Deliverance, and Astrid stayed behind in the dimensional house to home in on the corpse of Gletvac, a former foe that they had defeated in a plane known as Merica.

On the way, Umbra asked me about my nature. He’s a strange one, I’ll admit, but I do find him amusing. His curiosity about my undead nature is to be expected, but I found his questions alarming – as though he considered death as some sort of tool to being like me. I don’t understand my own nature, and I’ve been grappling with it for centuries. I just hope I can dissuade him from doing something foolish.

Randril’s experience with his own Goddess, brought up in the course of conversation, struck me as much different from my own. He described an almost… erotic entanglement.

Far, far from my own experience with Selûne. 

I have suspicions of gods. How can I not? I serve either some divine purpose, or I am a mistake, and Selûne isn’t forthcoming about either case. I could imagine how a sex drive would render that more complicated, though I am not sure if Randril quite knows what sex is. But he is flesh and flesh feels temptation, his own description of the moment with the “apple” indicated such. In my youth, back when I was alive, I admit to my indiscretions, but I barely remember them now, nor do I derive much feelings from them. Which leads me to Umbra.

I spoke with Umbra about my order, about the Moonmaiden, but thinking back on it now, I’ve had some second thoughts, given Umbra being clearly guided by his libido in most situations. I am not convinced he wouldn’t try to bed a deity and I can already see the inevitable fallout.

In fact, we should probably keep him away from Eris too, if we can help it, based on what Randril has said about her.

The Reluctant Dragonborn

Something that stood out to me in the walk was the apprehension in Randril regarding his monastic background and reticence to engage with me on the teachings of the Hand of Selûne. There is a deep hurt there, and I pity him and his experiences. The abuse of someone so good natured angers me.

I hope that maybe I could share in some of the joy and structure that has kept my mind together despite, well, everything. I was thinking of prayer beads. I’ll set about crafting some when I can. I had plenty of time to craft when I was stuck in the temple. It wouldn’t take long at all.

At the University

Our time at the university was a bit chaotic. Not having experienced much of the place, it was still readily apparent the regime change had a chokehold on the institution. It was deeply uncomfortable.

Randril leaned on his nature as a dragonborn to suggest he worked under one of the dragons who founded the university,.Velomachus Lorehold. Umbra grew a mustache. I continued to look like a corpse. I am amazed we were not questioned more than we were.

Our first goal was to meet up with Jace, our contact on campus. We had a secretary to contend with in the administrative building, but we navigated it well enough. We simply acted as though we were meant to be there and everything turned out fine. We’ll leave it at that.

Enter Chandra

In any case, one instructor, Chandra Nalaar, approached us. We had the situation in hand, but she was sympathetic to our cause and allied with Jace. She accompanied us to Jace’s office, and conveyed the uncomfortable nature of the for-profit nature of Strixhaven’s new administration. We relayed that we had arranged a safe space for students and faculty who balked at the changes, giving them a space to gather as we looked into how to change things on campus.

…

With that, we’re about to move onto a plan we’ve concocted to access the records room. With luck we’ll be in and out.

To be continued in Spooky Dice Bag #163.

The post Scrolls of Noctis #12 – Well in Hand appeared first on hpkomics.com.

You can listen to the embedded episodes below. Please note that Shal’s entry only covers up to a portion of episode 161. You can get early access to the Scrolls of Noctis via the podcast’s Patreon.

1498 DR – Day 74,001 – Strixhaven Under Siege

It has been an eventful day. I write this now within a haunted inn, sitting in the illumination of the moon, as young Ms. Deliverance rests at the other end of the room. 

Earlier this morning, I felt myself reliving (redeading?) one of the worst moments of my life, and I have carried it with me throughout the day as I’ve had to rapidly approach the strange new circumstances and crisis my new allies have found themselves in.

The oft-mentioned Jace had managed to find my party and ferried us rapidly through a portal to Strixhaven. My excitement to arrive at such an institution was quickly abated, however, as we learned that a fey figure, one Guy Fairy, some form of trickster restaurateur, had seemingly managed to wrest control of the school from the dragons who founded it. Some of the party had some experience with that specific Fey already.

I am still trying to understand it all myself. My dealings with the Fey are limited, and I prefer to keep them that way. I already had an unease with the idea of Strixhaven being on a different plane, as I find my periodic journeys into the Astral Realm disorienting enough. In my experience with other planes, I feel my link to the Moonmaiden stretched thin, and straying from Faerun-proper fills me with a certain dread.

In any case, I have already pledged myself to aiding my new allies, despite the protestations of Tovarn and the mixed messages of the Moonmaiden. I reason that with the school returning to proper order, I might be able to find the information I am seeking from the restored library. 

But first, it must be restored. 

I contributed what I could toward the plans and schemes for how to wrest control of Strixhaven back from the Fey, but as with all things involving the Feywild, I won’t hold my breath.

With that said, my organizational system for tracking our various schemes proved quite effective and in no way confusing to my allies. I’ve had centuries alone to ponder the mysteries of existence and think about the inefficiency of more organizational structures.

Inn of the Undead

Perhaps my allies’ relative ease with my undead nature is explained by the circumstances of the strange floating house we made our way to outside of the school. Apparently, in a previous adventure, they had worked with the ghost of one Sir Cornelius and seemingly managed to convince him to create an interplanar inn. Of course, the interplanar nature does irritate me a bit. We encountered a strange floating house, strange enough on its own, but when Randril threw me, I phased into an infinite mudroom. As it stands, the inn itself is disguised as floating through transmutation magic, but the actual physical inn is beneath the floating illusory house, which is on a different plane entirely.

My brains have long since rotted away, but even if they hadn’t, I doubt this would make any more sense to me. I had a lot to catch up on. 

I was curious to learn of a fire elemental named Ember, whom Forte had a significant attachment to. I am looking forward to meeting him, given that he makes even Forte’s dour and elusive countenance lighten at the mere mention of his presence.

While we continued to develop our approach to how to handle this issue of Strixhaven’s new ownership, we settled on two immediate plans. Randril pitched finding the Fey contract within the archives at the school. Additionally, we would need to plane shift, again, to Merica. There we would find the remains of a being called Gletvac, who carried a large amount of money on them.

As I understand it, any resistance movement needs money, so securing funds is a priority. I also need some new clothes, if I am being honest. I had hoped to maybe work at Strixhaven for a while as I did my research, but no such luck, currently. Alas. Incense, herbs, and oils only do so much to mask the smell of stale, centuries-old fabric on a centuries-old corpse.

Regardless, enacting any plans would need to wait, because this very morning we were deep in combat, and now we were planning on dealing with the Fey. 

Rest was a remedy for the toll of the day.

Revelations

One thing I was still trying to process from this morning was what about Ms. Deliverance’s actions had upset me so. I sense a kindred spirit in her. I sense a darkness in her – a tug-of-war between. Her Ki ebbs and flows, roiled in conflict, not unlike my own. As she went to take a walk to clear her head in the nearby graveyard, I joined her. I am sure my urgency was unexpected and concerning, but I saw an opportunity.

The conversation was an awkward one. Perhaps it was the potential similarity of her spirit to mine or my exhilaration at being able to have a conversation that led me to share my apprehension about her actions earlier that morning, when she had separated herself from the party. I let her know I felt her actions put her at undue risk. Of course, she is an assassin and capable, but having come from one destroyed family, I did not wish to see another. I worry I came off as more chastizing than concerned, but I am drunk on feeling a part of a community again for the first time in a long time.

Perhaps it is a certain selfishness on my part. It is refreshing not to have my only companionship be the spirits in my head. Having Chen the Mad in your skull is enough to drive you mad yourself. Sometimes I don’t even remember what I say, as though he influences my very speech. Tai the Melancholy, Raging Tovarn, Trembling Gary… I’d much rather keep as many new voices in my life as possible. Maybe it is that simple.

To my dismay, Ms. Deliverance has a rather grim outlook on her worth. Not knowing her full story, only gleaning from bits she told me, she is on some personal, self-destructive crusade. I recognize that readily. Her Ki is stained in blood, as is mine.

I am sane enough to know I am sick, and to recognize sickness in others. Maybe together we might both heal. In that measure, I offered her a gift of a hat, like the kind I’d weave for working the fields at the base of the mountain where we monks worked for our food, so many centuries ago.

A Cool Rock

For a time, after splitting off, I worked silently among the graves, weaving a hat. I had my attention drawn by the deep reverberation of a spiritual bell. It turned out that Astrid and Umbra were wandering the grounds as well. She seemed flustered and defeated, while Umbra was excited about a rock. With that said, I did sense a tremendous energy from the rock – it was indeed a cool rock.

On the note of tremendous energy, I am growing more intrigued by Umbra. There is a familiarity to him and his Ki, something suspiciously similar to me. It makes me wonder if my youthful indiscretions resulted in a lineage in the time since I died. I joke with the young changling, of course. But I do wonder if perhaps we are related? What is Selûne’s plan in that? Curiouser and curiouser, these circumstances.

After a while, we returned to the haunted inn, and in a sign that I will take as karmic, Ms. Deliverance asked me to stay in her room. I had intended to stay within the central chamber, as I have found that my unblinking, constant observation and guardianship of my bunkmates has been seen as mildly off-putting. 

I cannot help being a corpse, but I am constantly reminded that my very nature is something deeply uncomfortable to those around me. I cannot help that I always look like I am staring, even if I have no eyes. 

But I digress.

Given the heaviness of the day, I joined her in her room and took a seat at the window. I removed my mask and began my spiritual communion with My Lady’s silvery radiance, seeking any guidance or comfort, still reeling from Selûne’s troubling words from earlier that morning. Why was the only word I was able to make out “mask?”

As Ms. Deliverance began to drift off, I assume she saw my mask resting on the bed near the window. The last words I had heard from her were a question about why I wear the mask. I am struck now by the coincidence. I spoke truthfully to her, then; the mask is my penance.

She is asleep now. Her Ki is still chaotic, even at rest. I’ll return to the central room and wait for the others to wake up. The days ahead promise to be challenging.

To be continued in Spooky Dice Bag #162.

The post Scrolls of Noctis #11 – Educating Shal appeared first on hpkomics.com.

You can listen to the embedded episodes below. Please note that Shal’s entry only covers up to one portion of episode 157.

1498 DR – Day 74,000 – Survival Report

I am pleased to report that we survived. As suspected, the Boneshaper clan had attacked the procession as it arrived at the temple. We managed to defeat them handily, and I must say I am quite impressed with my new allies.

Astrid’s powers make me nervous. She seems like a kind person, but the kind of spiritual energy she can throw around has me nervous, given my state of being an undead abomination. This is not me being self-deprecating, either. I know my existence is an aberration, and it’s not an issue if I will even be caught in her crossfire, but when? At a moment of crisis, she may need to engage in wide-scale spiritual magic, and I will burn. I am not going to blame her, though. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one. I just need to be ready to move when she burns the world in a holy fire.

Given Astrid’s powers, one might assume I’d be most worried about her, but the one who caught me off guard was Randril. Something incredibly strong resides in him, despite his shy and self-conscious nature. There is something fated about the dragonborn; there is a touch of the divine, but what, I am not sure. I’m intrigued.

I find Umbra and Forte to be quite competent in combat, and they did not hesitate to get involved in the fight. Umbra was quick to join up with my position in the melee. My main concerns with Forte were outside of the fight. As we reconvened later, something felt off, and given the idea that he may have a rather intimate connection to a god, I couldn’t help but admit a sense of caution about Forte. As for Umbra, he reminds me a bit of myself when I was alive. It is almost as though we could be related.

As for Deliverance, she rather upset me. I find myself unbalanced as a result.

Echo of the Worst Day of My Life

I found myself upset about Deliverance’s decision to shut the temple door. I understand why, as she has a natural desire to protect others, as much as she’d likely protest that assessment. She is a skilled fighter, but there is a darkness to her. I am fascinated and find admiration for her. But I refuse to have anyone die for me when I have no right to exist. As far as I am concerned, she was throwing her life away.

We had been told to take different positions within the procession to the temple. As the procession reached its destination, a group of fifty Boneshapers approached, and we managed to signal one another regarding the movement in the east. However, it became necessary for me to enter the temple to convey what I observed, and by then, Deliverance had shut the door.

I must admit that my feelings on this are complicated, given my last moments of life. Being locked in a temple that is under siege reminded me of my brothers and sisters and my unholy awakening from death, only to discover they had long since died.

I leaped into action, escaping the temple through a window. It was partially to aid Deliverance and my allies, but I won’t hide the truth that it was also fear. This was one of those times when selflessness and self-preservation aligned.

As I see it now, I must be their shield.

As for the fight itself, I prefer not to dwell on combat, but I can admit that I pulled my weight. The Hand of Selûne trained warriors. Even in death, that is something I can lean on.

Waning Moonmaiden

Upon the surrender of the remaining Boneshapers, an individual arrived from a portal. I was ready to continue the fight, but it turns out he was a member of the Strixhaven faculty who had prior experience with a number of the members of the party. This figure, Jace, seemed to convey urgent updates about the magical college. But we had a few things to wrap up before we could travel.

Given the circumstances, I felt a bit off balance. I tried to calm myself by collecting some teeth as my allies said their goodbyes and tied up loose ends. As my existence necessitates the replacement of parts, the gathering of remains is a grim work, and is often secretive. It is hard to explain that I need teeth to replace the ones I often lose by being struck in the face. 

I still could not shake the terror I felt, though – the echo of my final, terrible moments of life. The voice of my goddess did not help in that regard either.

I’ve heard voices for centuries – the voices of my brothers and sisters, and the Moonmaiden herself.

Selûne’s presence is… rare and cryptic, even at her most forward; and suffice to say, she has not illuminated me as to why I was given an unholy life. Our conversations are one-sided and brief. I fear she is disturbed by me. In life, her grace felt like light shining moonlight on my skin. Now, that light is eclipsed.

I could only make out a single word.

“Mask.”

Perhaps my devotion has waned in some capacity – perhaps I am not working hard enough to complete my mission. Perhaps I haven’t passed on the Hand’s knowledge. Perhaps I haven’t tracked down enough of our relics.

Perhaps I have not killed enough Sharrans.

To be continued in Spooky Dice Bag #158.

The post Scrolls of Noctis #10 – Mass Attack, Aftermath, Moonmaiden appeared first on hpkomics.com.

1498 DR – Day 73,999 – Pierce, a New Bard

I joined Randril and Forte on a trip to a local bar to see a performance from a musician named Pierce. The performing arts had changed quite a bit since I had last seen anything. In my youth I had seen street musicians in the gambling parlors and among festivals, but had never seen something that quite compares to what I saw with my new companions. Then again, the biggest settlement that I had ever been to near Malatra was Bashan-Do, which was mostly a gathering place for farmers and errant adventurers. This was also 700 years ago, mind

There were public performances by locals and traveling bards, but nothing like I’d seen as I accompanied the Strixhaven party.

What I found most interesting about this Pierce fellow was the following built around him. There was even a table within the bar selling tunics and sending stones themed around Pierce. I’d partied with a few bards in my day. They all had reputations that preceded them, no doubt. But a bard with tunics people wore just because they admired their work? Fascinating.

This is such a different world when you’re not hiding in the shadows trying not to get purged by roaming mercenaries.

I bought one of those tunics. It’s the first real article of clothing I have had in a long, long time.

Ceremony Planning

The late-night performance was a treat that helped soothe me a bit. I admit I have been struggling with my new circumstances. Things are going well enough and I have spoken to more people over the last day or two than I have in centuries. It all feels very strange.

We’ve spent the morning preparing for a potential encounter at the religious ceremony. There was a breakfast banquet for preparation, which had I been able to eat food, would have been lovely. I have noticed a particular obsession with butter amongst the Strixhaven party. Though I don’t blame them. I remember butter being delicious.

As they eat and consume a bizarre amount of butter, I am going to wrap up for now. Our next stop is the temple for the Marthammor ceremony.

I’ll update this if I survive the possible fight ahead.

To be continued in Spooky Dice Bag #154.

The post Scrolls of Noctis #9 – Party Party and Party Preparation appeared first on hpkomics.com.

1498 DR – Day 73,998 – Eternal Twilight

Having decided to stay low, we wandered the night in this town in the Underdark. I am not sure what the women in our party were up to. It makes one wonder.

At the time, I think I found myself most taken with the fact I knew it was night.

I am no stranger to dark places, and the Underdark is a curious extension of the concept of darkness. The landscape is not unlike one of perpetual twilight but without the presence of the moon.

Does Selûne know where I am, even miles beneath rock and stone?

I feel the moon. I feel her presence. The Moonmaiden has guided me since my awakening from death. I don’t know why she chose me.

It drives me mad.

If I could feel her, even deep below the ground in this strange land… so why am I still so unsure of my purpose?

*The above section had been lined out from Shal’s journal.*

Everything is fine.

I’m good.

To be continued in Spooky Dice Bag #152.

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1498 DR – Day 73,998 – Acting!

With our plan decided upon, Deliverance and Umbra staged a break-up that spiraled into a yelling match in the bar below. As this occurred, someone (I know not whom) had set fire to the street outside, which I took as my queue to play my part. I hurled out hotel furniture from the window, resulting in further chaos.

As I threw out furniture, I found myself interjecting in the argument from upstairs, becoming part of a large group breakup. All the while, the clerics had managed to spirit away the statue of Marthammor out of the room and presumably down the stairs. As I heard the quarrel head outside, I simply ejected myself from the window to the street below.

Once we collectively felt the statue was safe, we opted to find places to lie low until we could meet with the priestess Emra. Deliverance and Astrid made their way to a temple, while myself and the remaining party – all men by coincidence, traveled to see “Old Frank,” the “Midnight Apothecary” who lived behind the fishmonger.

He proved delightful, but what caught us off guard was the presence of another figure. One whom I did not recognize, but the rest of my companions did. He was a mysterious and charismatic figure who went by Pierce, and after bidding farewell to Old Frank, we went to procure a place to stay and perhaps take in a show.

To be continued in Spooky Dice Bag #151.

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1498 DR – Day 73,998 – Aftermath of the Unveiling

Following my revelation of my undead state, Deliverance seemed a bit perturbed and left the room. Given she did not draw a knife on me, I take that as a win on my part. Otherwise, with the pressing concern of the statue, Astrid took point on a sending spell to reach out to their contact, a Priestess who had put them on the trail of the statue’s location at the Boneshaper Manor. 

Having dealt with the specific nature of sending spells before, my advice was to write down the message before sending it as word count was key. I was not willing to spare my parchment, as I have my diary to tend to, but I rather helpfully removed a patch of skin from my stomach as that was more vellum than skin at this point. Astrid was able to compose her message and returned the patch to my body. It appears now that I have a rudimentary tattoo. Not quite as stylish as Auzhan’s all those centuries ago, but I am sure he would have found mine to be funny.

Downtime, But Brief

I remained in the room with Umbra and a napping Randril as Astrid left the room to check on Deliverance. I offered to go, as I felt a little responsible for her condition given my hideous face, but was advised not to and that it was “girls’ stuff.” Now, I am no stranger to that phrase given the makeup of the monastery at Malatra – men, women, and two spirits alike had served Selûne. We were a small, displaced order in the lands I called home; we would take whoever was called to us.

At this time, I had seemed to lose track of Forte; I feel there is something more to the half-elf, but there is a certain cageyness; the revelation that they have a god inside of them is also interesting. The name Lektor is familiar to me. I feel we may have more in common than I thought, so much so that I am sure the others scratching around in my skull would agree. I am no stranger to shadows and dark places, and I suspect that is where Forte often finds themself.

A Knock at the Door

As we waited for the help to arrive, there was a knock at the room’s door, and visitors outside raised the first half of the code phrase; despite my having the phrase written on my arm, Umbra seemed to mistake the second half, and we were forced to pivot when the visitors had moved on down the hall.

I managed to wake up Randril so I was not left alone with the three visitors, who were the native Duergar. They also were clerics, which made me nervous. It was an awkward wait as Umbra went downstairs to collect the rest of our party.

I was not comfortable answering questions as to where we had collected the statue; I recognize there is a tense political situation between the Daugr and Dwarves of this region of the Underdark and the last thing I want to do is embroil myself and the Strixhaven party in some conflict by speaking out of turn. Thankfully Astrid returned to smooth things over.

At least, things felt smooth until we heard Deliverance knocking at the door. There was a commotion on the streets outside. We quickly shifted to the news task, again, planning how to deal with the statue and evade any pursuit.

It turned out a breakup would be in order.

To be continued in Spooky Dice Bag #150.

The post Scrolls of Noctis #6 – Three Duergar Enter a Room appeared first on hpkomics.com.

1498 DR – Day 73,998 – Planning and Formal Introductions

With Randril, Umbra, and I having managed to get the statue of Marhammor to their room at The Shitty Mule, we laid as low as we could as we waited for the rest of the party to return. Regrettably, the elixirs were overly potent and Randril and Umbra were both quite drunk. Despite the strength leaving their bodies, the potent potable resulted in Randril trying to “jump the bed” continuously.

I was mostly nervous about the situation given my undead nature. There had been little time for questions or much of a formal introduction. I hoped that aiding them in spiriting away the statue of Marhammor would allow me a chance to make an introduction. Particularly one where I would not immediately be killed.

Eventually, Forte, Deliverance, and Astrid made their way to the room where we were hiding out. There seemed to be some confusion about a key phrase. As I understand it, it was “When the shadows dance, the veil whispers.” Had I had a chance to write it down earlier it might have saved the group some time and debate.

The immediate concern when we reconvened was what to do about the statue. The plan began to emerge, but before we got too deep into the process, I took the chance and introduced myself to them fully.

Making an introduction…

I did not mean to dump my trauma, but the fact they did not immediately try to kill me upon learning I am undead gave me some small allowance to put myself out there. Taking their questions, I told them a bit about the circumstances of my awakening and acknowledged that some of their magic would quite easily destroy me.

I also removed my traveler’s cloak. it was a very vulnerable moment, and I considered it to be very brave of me. Astrid seemed particularly kind; apparently, she has spent time tending to the dead. It might be nice to have someone help patch me up.

What intrigued me most, however, was the mention of Strixhaven. If there was anywhere that might have some clues as to the history of my order, it would be there.

But, the statue of Marhammor was the immediate concern.

To be continued in Spooky Dice Bag #149.

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1498 DR – Day 73,998 – Going Off the Rails

Arriving in the hidden room, the Strixhaven crew confirmed their intent to steal the statue – or at least acquire it for a local faction. I confronted them on this – not with hostile intent – but to remind them I was there. I expressed their actions were similar to my own desire to acquire materials, and I offered to help them with their task. I may be able to leverage help from them for my own purposes later.

The plan, as I understood it, was to leverage a combination of spells and strength elixirs to remove the statue and spirit it away to another location. In order to help, I defenestrated myself from the second story to scout a position a few hundred feet ahead for the dragonborn, Randril, to cast a teleportation spell to that location. In order to remain inconspicuous, I removed a pinky to make it appear as if I were carrying an hors d’oeuvre.

As soon as Randril and Umbra teleported into position nearby I detected an overwhelming scent of alcohol. Apparently those elixirs were spiked with something. We quickly threw together a plan to use a nearby mine cart from a dig site to ferry the statue to a safe location. From what I gather, Deliverance, Forte, and Astrid stayed behind with Nordaleen to make the collective group’s exist from the festivities.

We secured the statue into a cart, but with the fit being tight, I opted to stand on the statue. The track descended toward Stonehaven and other mining stations. As we careened downward, Randril and Umbra seemed to hallucinate the presence of flying bananas, barrels, and golden letters. The vapors of alcohol were so powerful I could have sworn I saw some of these things as well. We almost took a detour toward a mining station, but I was able to trigger a switch in the track with a well-placed dart throw.

Arriving at the end of the line, I was sent ahead to their current base, the Shitty Mule, a small inn. I attempted to make small talk with the proprietor as they carried in the statue, now covered with a cloak, upstairs to a room, stating it was a keg.

My small-talk exhausted, I excused myself to “drink” with my new friends.

Might they be friends? That would be nice.

Tovarn and the others as scratching around in my skull and growing impatient. I could use someone else to talk to.

To be continued in Spooky Dice Bag #148.

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