09/25/2024 Snippet, THE LAST DAYS OF UNHOLY TOLEDO.

Trying my best to reel this one in.

The Monsignor pursed his lips, looking backward himself. After a moment, he shrugged. “There may be something back there, yes. As I have said, the spellcraft is weaker here than it should be. Perhaps some spirit has taken hold of frayed magic, and reweaved it into a form more pleasing to it.” He shrugged. “No matter, as long as it contents itself with easy prey.”

The Monsignor turned … only to find Maddox’s arm blocking his way. “Unholy Toledo had a name for showing contempt for the wits of others. Which is why there’s an army at its walls.” The Monsignor’s nostrils flared at the accurate accusation. “We may be underground even now, but I am no fungus, to be kept in the dark, and fed shit. What can we expect from the rest of these miserable chambers? For clearly you know.”“Oh, I do! My circle” — Nat’s eyes narrowed, for that was not a word one liked to hear a mage use to describe his associates — “long had the task of preserving these pleasure chambers. Ha!” he went on, seeing Maddox start slightly. “Not all tastes are as coarse as yours, fighting-man. Those of us with more rarified psyches require subtler delights. But it is fair that you know what you face.”