Vtheman

I opened one of the plastic bins I use to store most of the spell ingedients I keep downstairs out of sight. A lot of this stuff isn’t dangerous, but there are a few items I’d rather not have to have to explain if the police come to pay a surpise visit. The instant I opened the drawer the smell of the dried ginger root cleared my sinuses and fought of the faint mildewy smell of the lab. “Thats ginger root. You need thyme for the potion.” The glowing eyes occupying the otherwise vacant eye sockets of the skull resting on a shelf across the room were glowing brightly. “Says you.” “Yes, says me. Unles

The blue beetle looked like I’d just driven it to Mordor and back. There were arrow shafts sticking out of it at odd angles like the quills of a windswept porcupine. The wooden handle of a battle axe was jutting out of the hood. Smoke was curling out from beneath the hood but the fire seemed to have died down at least. I tugged on one of the arrows buried in the driver’s side door experimentally. It didn’t budge. I dug one foot into the gravel and pressed the other in the beetle. Iwrapped both of hands around the wooden shaft and pulled on it as hard as I could. The muscles in my arm started to burn and it occured to me how

I drove my left fist into the ratty punching bag I’d bought second hand a few years ago. The previous owner had been in the process of dragging it out to the curb when I stumbled upon him. Twenty dollars and my promise the haul it away for him had been more than enough to make him happy. My following left jab rattled the heavily duct taped bag in a very satisfactory way. The silver ring I was wore caught the light of the candles scattered throughout the lab. It stores kinetic energy. Every time I move my arm it gathers a little bit of power, and I can use that power to send out a solid wave of force. It packs enough of a punch to make

I grimaced at the vial of bubbling black liquid in front of me. I’d been trying unsuccesfully for nearly an hour to keep the the tar-like substance from bubbling over. My table was covered in puddles of the black goo and the lab was filled with the smell of rotten eggs. I shut my eyes and tried counting to ten slowly. “Is it supposed to smell this bad?” “The rotten eggs are essential.” Bob had leaned over the edge of his shelf to scrutinize my work. It did not escape my notice that he’d managed to stay outside of the splash radius. A fresh burst of bubbles erupted from the potion and a new wave of stink f