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Shining Jingling Glory
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I break one of the rat's fingers for insolence and throw his skull-topped staff to the ground, well out of his reach. His winces in pain and whimpers like a dog. His arrogant manner is already broken, burst like a damn, given way to a rush of pathetic pleading.
When he recovers a bit from the pain, he speaks between gasps.
>"Muschio, you have every right to hate me. But I swear on mother's grave, those days are behind me! The new King threw me out as soon as they took the throne!"
>"Silence, you old coward! One day you shall have your reckoning for the murder of my family, be it in this world or the next. But this day I have come to avenge your more recent trespasses against me."
>"I swear I didn't even know you were alive! I have no idea what you're talking about!" He pleads, quivering.
I grasp another finger and his eyes widen.
>"My comrades and I were attacked the other day by a cloaked figure seeking an artifact in my possession. He gravely wounded one of my allies. That will not stand!"
>"And you think it was me?! Muschio, on my--"
>"He was capable of magical teleportation -- a feat I've only seen performed by one other man: YOU!"
>"Muschio, listen to me! Those were parlor tricks! Illusions, nothing more! I'm not a wizard! Most of my demonstrations were created with mirrors or potions... I-... I never cast anything more complex than a fire knack or a light flare! Even the necromancy was just an attempt at communication!"
>"You LIE!"
My hand tightens around his finger and he shakes his head frantically.
>"I swear on my mother's grave!"
>"Swear on YOUR grave, Dermane!"
>"Yes! I swear it! I swear on my own grave, potions and illusions, that's all I have!"
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