[Shouting] Stop beating on my door! I already told you bastards…

[Jerking the door open] Oh, sorry, your eminence, I thought you were those crusaders; here to pester me about their gear again.

Come in, Come in. You look like you need a drink. Shit, I need one, and you haven’t even told me why you’re here. I have a very nice peach brandy from the northern orchards. Please have a seat; I’ll get a bottle and a couple of tumblers.

You knew I would go as soon as I heard that he killed Zane. Since Zane was the only thing holding me back from going after him after he killed Zane’s family, I’ve got no reason to stay my hand. So why are you here? You must want something from me; otherwise, you would have just left me to do like I usually do.

Maxwell being a demi-lich adds some complexity to the scenario but isn’t going to keep me from putting him down. I may need a few helpers, though – but no church dicks! I don’t want any high and mighty arsehole keeping me from doing what needs to be done, and you know I’ll smash my hammer upside their head no matter who they are or who their daddy is. Find me some adventurers or something, I’ll help them gear up, and we’ll put Maxwell’s soul back in his body just long enough to burn him at the stake and listen to him scream.

I’ll have the forge packed up and ready to go in a couple of hours, and I’ll be ready an hour after that. Where do you want me to meet these killers who wish to put Maxwell down?


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