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You look at your rune book the Slavs gave you, it stinks and the more you stare the more unsure you are that it’s even a book. It looks like two lumps of wet clay covered in construction paper? Can Slavs write? Do they feel?
It’s all very bladerunner esque. But don’t let your ponderisms of Russians being sentient distract you from the fact that you’re still quivering and vomiting on the floor.
What you thought it was over? After what you did? Fuhuhuhu suck my dick dude no.
The presence of the rune book, but more so finishing a wizard’s errand, summons the visage of JOHN WIZZARD in the sky.
“OP! You did it! You found the book! Now you ca-“
“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO”
“I..OP. What?”
“THE WARD. AT THE BEGINNING OF THE QUEST YOU PUT A VODKA WARD ON ME. WHY THE FUCK DIDNT IT WORK.”
“I, what do you mean?”
“I AM” you vomit another slew of liquid death on the ground, Chernobyl weeps. “DYING”
“OP, You downed the whole bottle. What did you think would happen? Magic isn’t a cureall I thought you would have figured this out. It requires effort on both parts. Don’t be obtuse.”
You collapse on the ground and continue seizing.
“Alright OP now let’s just uh”
He inches you towards the book with his giant magical finger like you’re a bug.
“Now just take the book and you can read goblin speak. It’s that simple.”
You breathe in and out, you think you’re having heart palpitations. What does your warrior soul seek.
>A hospital. I need a hospital
>Learning goblin speak
>Killing John Wizzard