Wessex is just about to snarl a warning as the red smoke becomes all-encompassing - when it suddenly retreats and pulls itself into a large, towering figure - no doubt meant to be impressive. And it is, don’t get her wrong, but it is an alien kind of impressive. The Wraith recognizes the genie for what it is: something with power.
She doesn’t trust it.
That tone, the way it talks. It sounds as oily as the goatee is might have in any other world, and as the nuances of its offer reach her ears, her lips press into a thin line. How many times has she offered a favor to others? Maybe it’s time for her to offer favors, instead. With the mental caveat in her head that it must give one back in the future. Now, however, is not the time to negotiate. “You may ask a boon of me,” she says loudly, from the back.
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Offers a favor to the genie
She doesn’t trust it.
That tone, the way it talks. It sounds as oily as the goatee is might have in any other world, and as the nuances of its offer reach her ears, her lips press into a thin line. How many times has she offered a favor to others? Maybe it’s time for her to offer favors, instead. With the mental caveat in her head that it must give one back in the future. Now, however, is not the time to negotiate. “You may ask a boon of me,” she says loudly, from the back.
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Offers a favor to the genie
The Wraith
the bright
the thing in the night
the bright
the thing in the night
Wessex
