‘Quite good sir.’ The feeling of Jeeves left as the mana exploded out. The thickness of the mana pushed his whiskers back. A Bout of nausea hit him as his perspective slid into that of the Orb. ‘Great. And now I’m a fucking Core.’ A cynical mental laugh followed that thought.
[Choose your Theme:]
[Quil’czar: The Scurrying Hoard]
(“All that scurry and devour in the night. All hoards are mine!”)
[Orax: The Ever Moving Visage]
(“A Trickster me? No Never.”)
[Sillia: Of the Silent Tempest]
(“.