Posts from 🍁Nine Ancient Obelisks Auto-translated

Erica safely arrives at Kalamandra.

—That’s how it happens… —Listening to the serpent sorceress’s story, Asmidul thoughtfully tried to catch one of the bubbles with his palm. —So, he was a king. Well, at least few can boast such a sad and romantic tale! —supporting the lightening of the atmosphere, he paused for a moment. —Forgive me for bringing up such memories… But tell me, did you ever try to simply confess your feelings to the king? Without all this… uh… “traditional” kidnapping and so on?

Erica sat down at a free table.

—A mug of beer! —she said.

Or whatever the standard serving size is.

- Of course, of course, - the waitress, whose name was Bertora, by the way, places a pint of beer, - anything else?

- No... We are still friends, but it has been over twenty years since we met, and a lot has happened, so the time has passed... - The Snake smiled sadly. - I hope this story will serve as a useful lesson for you.

By the time everything was over, Kir and Ushumgallu had finished working on the lion's remains: now, finally, they could have a good meal.

—As my mother says, time is never wasted when it comes to love! —Asmidul said with a touch of youthful idealism. —Who knows, maybe the king's heart made a mistake, and now he regrets not taking the first step? Or maybe he doesn't have anyone special in his heart at all? Or maybe there is no love or choice at all, and everything around is just an Anuzish illusion? But he was right about one thing: you are truly breaking the stereotypes about lamias, and therefore it would be an honor for me to become one of the students in your guild. —Having finished this epic speech, he respectfully bowed his head.

- No, that's enough for now, - replied Erika.
-Tell me, have you ever seen something like this? - she added, pointing to the "plaque."

- Mkh-sh-mm, - Ushumgallu happily bit into the meat, his appetite suddenly becoming ferocious. - Who would have thought that lions are so tasty? I hope there are many of them in this country. What should we do with her next? What if she starts attacking ordinary workers and hunters?

– Oh, you must be very sad here; I'll take you with me and name you... – the Lunarian looked at the sky, clear and blue, – Nebos! In an epic style, with the stress on the first syllable.