The wizard emerged from the back of the cluttered study, preceded by fluttering bats and holding an owl on a perch like a lantern. His eyes narrowed as he saw me and I knew a Skrying was imminent.
"What of the Foe?" I asked.
"...Be wary, small warrior!* It is known as The Obama. Forever enshrouded in self-created fog, it entices men with meaningless platitudes of Hope and Change. Change, indeed! Brave and foolish men have entered the cloud, only to emerge with the heads of of voles and shrews or the minds of insects!"
"Nay, fool! They have become the change their leader wished."
"Eeep. What, then, of the other foes, the elderly knight and the witch?"
"Oh, them? Not much, really, as long as you shut up and do as you're told."
"But O Ancient One, I kind of suck at that."
"H'mm. Bit of a problem, then."
* Or did he say "worrier?" So difficult to know.
T. R. MCELROY'S STREAMLINED TELEGRAPH KEYS
1 year ago