February 14, 2004
"That's fast work," Kimetan said.
Ardothica nodded. "I've never seen anyone down a bottle of firebreather that quickly before," he said.
They watched in respectful silence as Excrucior read through a piece of parchment for the third time. With a heavy sigh, the god tranferred a few pertinent pieces of information to the fresh sheet in front of him. He read through the copied version and checked it against the original. After a few seconds, he nodded solemnly, grabbed another bottle of firebreather, and thumbed the cork out. Three gulps later, the empty bottle landed on a huge pile of recently drained bottles. He reached for the next piece of paper, stifling a sob.
"That's a lot of bottles," Kimetan noted, staring at the occasionally shifting mass of glass.
"The imps are taking the first batch back for the deposit," Ardothica said.
"Is it the spelling and grammar?" Kimetan asked in a hushed voice. "I know he's more or less leaving the submissions as they are, even 'leet-speak', but-"
"Not really," Ardothica replied. "I think he's just allergic to romance."
They stood for a while in respectful silence.
"How many more has he to go?"
Ardothica thought about it for a moment. "Let's see," he said, furrowing his brow, "he's done one, so that leaves..."
Welcome to the Valentine's Day edition of the Medievia Mudslinger!
The postal imps are taking a well-deserved break after carrying so many messages of affection, not to mention the proposals and general idolising. Our stocks of butterflies and moths are nearly depleted.
To start things off, Zakes has provided us with a number of signs to let you know that you're in Medievian Love.
Now, on with the show!
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