*Some good name for a story about magic*
Tired... You're so incredibly tired. It takes great effort to get the fire started, and even more to cook up some of that dried meat that you bought a few weeks ago. You eat and get ready for sleep, you've set up the tent and sleeping bag, and the smoke of the fire reaches high into the sky for all to see. You sleep for 5 hours, more then you would have liked, but you guess you needed it. You slept well, so well you didn't hear the bandit gangs forming around your camp, it seems the smoke gave away your position.
You wake up to a dagger against your throat.
"Ayim gonna' ask nicely mister. How much is dat der staff worf?" The bandit asks, while pressing the dagger a little closer to your throat.
"You fool... i can barely speak with that dagger pressed against my vocal cords" you whisper, "Much less tell you what my staff is worth without looking at it!"
The bandit falls for it. He takes away the dagger from your throat and hands you the staff.
" 'ere, but don ye try anyfin, kay?"
You wake up to a dagger against your throat.
"Ayim gonna' ask nicely mister. How much is dat der staff worf?" The bandit asks, while pressing the dagger a little closer to your throat.
"You fool... i can barely speak with that dagger pressed against my vocal cords" you whisper, "Much less tell you what my staff is worth without looking at it!"
The bandit falls for it. He takes away the dagger from your throat and hands you the staff.
" 'ere, but don ye try anyfin, kay?"