Captain’s Complaint

The Captain of the City Guard spun like a top, his hand between his legs like I had seen amongst the outrang-utan of the Solion Valley. He careened off the furniture like a drunken mirror ball, shards of light springing eagerly off his polished mail like parched revelers queuing for pickleberry punch. A man-at-arms at odds with his carapace, he looked to have the ringlets of his gauntlet caught in his curiously ornate codpiece. Embarrassed, I stared at a jeweled globe (with amber symbol of Haggistan) resting in a etched pewter ring until his orbit brought him within range and it went spinning underfoot and he fell with a clang upon his back.

Wege caught my abashed gaze and whispered “See the principles in action. There’s more to this than meets the eye...”. I was all at once grateful that I had ignored his Pseudothaumatical dissertation on the journey hence and resolved then and there to procure a mutefish for his impending consumption.