Tarjal the Pauper followed me into the basilisk’s den.
Idiot!
Poor fool thought he could pick my bones after I procured the great lizard’s riches.
Greedy scoundrel.
What he did not realize is I had learned the cantrip that made the visage of the beast bearable to the eyes. Even with the spell, I trod silently and stayed hidden…not so, the thoughtless beggar who tromped right past me.
Imbecile.
So I slunk right by while the reptilian’s gaze turned the vagrant to stone, allowing me to make off with the treasure.
Ignorant cad.
A stupid way to die.
Jasiah Witkofsky
Jasiah Witkofsky is a philosopher-gardener who spends his off-hours penning dark speculative fiction and swashbuckling tales of daring and adventure. He resides at the foothill base of the magical Sierra Nevadas of Northern California with his merry band of rascals and rapscallions. His works can be found in more than ten publishers, magazines, and journal companies from all over the English-speaking world.