9 thoughts on “Selling books at town festivals is not for the timid, apparently.”
“Arbutus” does sound like a place you could seal a blood-pakt.
If you start gibberig more than usual or for longer than 4 hours consult your local Arcanarium.
Blood for the blood god. Could have been worse, no towering inferno.
Is it the beginning of stigmata?
There’s more to say about this. How did selling books lead to a flesh wound? I have a theory. You were selling books, and somebody came up with a meat thermometer and was curious about whether you were fully cooked. But when it turned out that you were still raw, he vanished, meat thermometer in hand, with only the faintest whiff of sulfur to mark his passing.
Am I close?
But did you quote the Black Knight?
I can only assume at least one of your publications is now stained with the water of life and qualifies as a holy (or unholy) relic.
“Arbutus” does sound like a place you could seal a blood-pakt.
If you start gibberig more than usual or for longer than 4 hours consult your local Arcanarium.
Blood for the blood god. Could have been worse, no towering inferno.
Is it the beginning of stigmata?
There’s more to say about this. How did selling books lead to a flesh wound? I have a theory. You were selling books, and somebody came up with a meat thermometer and was curious about whether you were fully cooked. But when it turned out that you were still raw, he vanished, meat thermometer in hand, with only the faintest whiff of sulfur to mark his passing.
Am I close?
But did you quote the Black Knight?
I can only assume at least one of your publications is now stained with the water of life and qualifies as a holy (or unholy) relic.
Charge extra for that one.
Also.. …. how?
I tripped.
Dude, you’re a writer! Make something up!