Quarterly Goals

Brother Vectris goggled at the sight of an all-too-familiar profile across the courtyard. "What is he doing here?"

Vectris demanded. Father Alberion sighed. "He brought a claim before the justices. Technically, he was dismissed inappropriately, and we were obligated to take him back and put him on a performance review plan instead."

"Inappropriately...!?" Vectris said. "The Order of the Azure Shield has but one duty: to maintain the mystic prison around the arch-fiend Blistriek. He colluded with the demon and betrayed all of humanity!"

"Yes," said Albion, "but other than that, his record is flawless. It was a first offense."

Missed Opportunity

When his chores were done, Droog spent his time hating the Master. It was easy; the Master did not exert much effort to make himself lovable. His castle was dark, damp, and full of screams. Droog's plans were complicated by the fact that no weapons were allowed within the Master's castle, but he was sure he would find a way, sooner or later.

When Droog found the Master lying dead, he was a little taken aback. There was no sign of who had done it; just the gently spreading pool of blood.

Droog shrugged and began to scrub the floors.

Health Inspection at the 'Crimson Bullock' Factory

Inspector Sapor turned and glanced at the muffled figure of the Witchfinder. The man held up his dual wands, checking for magical auras. "Clean," he said, his voice a robotic buzz through his mask.

Sapor frowned and stroked his mustaches. "All is... in order, Mister Rapqi. But we'll keep our eye on you. No normal herbal brew has had the... stimulating effects your 'soft drink' claims."

"Of course, sir," said Rapqi. And thank the gods they didn't think to check the bottlecaps, he thought, more sweat trickling down his brow than could be explained by the heat of the brewery.