Drippings
I poisoned my first dagger the other day.
Nature-based damage, with a one-in-five chance of inflicting it.
Everywhere I stood, I dripped.
From my dagger belt.
For the hour or so it took to run its course.
Glow in the dark green stuff.
A fashion statement, if you ask me.
Innkeepers weren't too happy though.
I was dripping on their rugs.
They asked me to leave.
So I did.
Went outside.
Stood around and watched the guys weeding in the gardens out back for a bit.
I took a particular interest in the rain barrels they were using.
Geez.
I tried really hard not to drip.
Really.
Author's note: Deldodin is a gnome, a rogue living in the realm of SteamWheedle Cartel.
I've decided to post his more coherent writings.
When I find one.
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