It’s Good to Be Home

I grin, inhaling the citrus-scented breeze that eternally blows through Skathagrat. An attack by glitter-spewing slimes provided a welcome diversion along the road, but it’s good to be home. I’m envisioning a long, quiet soak in my werecat-sized tub when Vera emerges from the Guildhall.

“Three hundred gold coins for Erd and his goons.” Her lips purse as she raises several triangular slips of paper. “And vouchers to a new vampire play at the theater.”

The gravel grinds beneath Rach’s bootheel. She’s clearly unsatisfied.

Felicia’s grinning. “Vampires?”

An enraptured audience in a darkened theater? Sounds like a trap to me.