Man, we’re screwed. Since I first heard the term ‘Master of Many Eyes’ I knew what was coming for us. I just hoped it to be something else. There are many monsters with many eyes, like the … or the … or … Okay, fine. There not that many monster with more than a handful eyes around. Just this once Faelon should be able to barge in. Or better not. Until the obvious came to be, he believed it to be Werenewts. Maybe he still thinks this thing is a disguised Werenewt? Anyways, it’s okay that I kick the bucked. Considering that I basically ignore your servant, friend, ally or whatever it is you sent me and not being to most devoted agent you have. I totally hold you in the highest regard for not stripping me of the few divine spells I know, so maybe that counts a little. Whom am I kidding? I am lousy divine agent for anyone. I don’t need to tell you that I didn’t care about this for the last century. I still give a damn in certain ways. It’s not that easy after you said *peep* you world for over a hundred years. I am sure you understand, considering our situation, maybe not. Like I said, if you can do something to get rest out of here, I would really really appreciate it. I can be ripped apart in the abyss or burn in hell, but the others don’t need to. It’s totally understandable if Faelon suffers the same fate as I. If so, could you at least try put in a good word for me. I have enough of this Werenewt crap already, I don’t want hear about it all eternity. And don’t say he wouldn’t do it. He totally would. He will blame everything on this frigging Werenewts. I don’t even know what a (peep)ing normal Newt is and I don’t even care anymore. Hell, what am I doing? Why am I pleading for my life? I’ve never done this before. And it is just fragging beholder not a powerful demon or devil. The Replacement-Barbarian hits pretty hard. So he and Drev’nae will give him quite the headache. Faelon will be either useless or in deadly peril, unless he can swing his rapier without magic surrounding it. I would be too, if I wasn’t a train spy. No, idea what the other new guy can do, but he doesn’t look like magic, so he might be alright. And certainly this situation qualifies for those … Oh, man we’re screwed. Why did I give all the cigars away because of a bloody hydra? “Sorry, are you mad? You are not even sure that we survive!” Asks one of the voices in my head. Of course I am! Otherwise you wouldn’t be around, dumbass. And now shut up, I have a very important inner monologue to finish. Getting a victory drink out of the jug is also out of the question. I might not like him very much but I am not going to put Faelon back on the road of self-destruction. Seems I care a bit more about him that I was aware of. Guess it will end just any other victory we had before the camp and now after camp, with no celebration. That leaves the final conclusion hanging. Damn it, I need a very specific information for it. Thought bubbles vanish to give view on the situation. “Hey Faelon, does a beholder have an ass we can kick?”
