Magis and Toras, still not necessarily by that order, were beating up a Forest Troll Priest and a Forest Troll Berserker, respectively. Both Trolls' Hit Points decreased in a funnily rapid rate, which soon resulted in their inevitable death, which in turn resulted in an inevitable flash of light upon our 2 heroes to emphasize that they have just gained a level.
"Ooh, look at that!", bounced Magis excitedly. "Yes, I believe we've gained a level!", agreed Toras drunkenly. "Yes we have", repeated Magis, "and you know what that means!".
- "We now have more Strength!".
- "And agility!".
- "And a shiny skill point for ye to spend!".
"And most important of all...", added Magis, "We have also more.. uh.. erm.. what do you call that?".
"Fine Dwarven ale?", suggested Toras with gleaming eyes.
"No no no", protested Magis, "It must have been something related to Elves...".
"Bigger ears, perhaps?", suggested Toras, "So ye can track down and hunt some fine Dwarven ale?".
"Of course!", jumped Magis, "We are now more intelligent than before! Which means we can now move on to the next phase of our perilous quest!".
"To drink fine Dwarven ale, you mean?", assumed Toras, "Aye, I feel better qualified to do that now!".
"Back to Elvenville then!", declared Magis and began marching in some direction, "To carefully plan our next move!".
"And to use ye large ears and have some fine Dwarven ale!", agreed Toras and started marching as well.
Meanwhile, back at the Black Citadel, the evil Lich king was upset. "Foolish creature!", screeched the lich across the chess board at the Abomination which played against him, "You are supposed to move bishops diagonally, not to eat them!".
"WhAt wE dO", apologized the Abomination.
"You underlings will never understand this great game", sighed the evil Lich king skeletally and turned away from the chess table, just when an Acolyte entered the room.
"Acolyte!", greeted the Lich king warmly, "Have you humble servant performed the task which I commanded you to?".
"Yes, master, I have!", coughed the Acolyte, "Elvenville stands helpless against the mighty structure!".
"Marvelous", stated the evil Lich king, "We can now move on to phase 2 of my gloriously evil plan!".
The Acolyte stared at the Lich king. The Lich king stared at the Acolyte. The Acolyte checked something in his laptop and then stared back at the Lich king. The Abomination ate the black queen.
"Excuse me, O great master", said the Acolyte eventually, "But what is phase 2?".
They stared at each other again for another few minutes. The Abomination ate both white and black kings, and thus the game ended in a draw.
"Phase 2!", screamed the Lich angrily, and there was silence again. The Abomination, tired of chess, began nibbling on some WarCraft3 action figures.
"Yes, master?", asked the Acolyte, "What is phase 2?".
"Such top secret information is beyond mere Acolytes such as yourself!", screamed the Lich king, "Now go take care of Phase 2!".
"But, master...", hesitated the Acolyte.
"Silence, slave!", croaked the Lich king, "This phase relies so heavily on the element of surprise that even I am not allowed yet to know it!".
"Very well", mumbled the Acolyte with confusion, and started out of the room.
"Don't forget to buy my favorite cookies!", echoed the voice of the Lich king behind him.
The Abomination burped up a black knight. "Alright, you", growled the Lich at him, "Let's try this just one more time...".
The Elven king nervously roamed back and forth in his Elvish throne room. "Augh...", he moaned helplessly and painfully every once in a while, upon catching random glimpses of his poor Elvish window.
One of his many High Elven Councils, who stood in the room and observed him for some reason which is of no interest to our readers, tried to calm him down. "Worry not, my king!", he assured, "I assure you that Sir Magis the Blue will find a solution to this disturbing problem!".
"Not a chance", whispers were heard in the Elvencrowd, "Not if it took him a million krillion years!".
"You fool" , replied other whispered voices, "there is no such number as krillion!".
"Well even if there were such a number, it would not be enough!".
"Silence!", cried the king, "You all keep arguing, we are still helpless in front of this gruesome piece of Undead architecture, and it's already 11:00AM yet I've only had 2 breakfasts! When will that Magis return already?".
As if fired out of a Wand of Lightning Shield, Magis blasted through a window, performing a backflip in some unconventional directions and landing on his face. "Worry not, my liege!", Magis leaped off the floor, "For I have found a solution to thy majestic problem!". After a quick glance at his compass, he quickly charged out the skylight.
"Hey there, laddies!", declared Toras, stumbling bravely from behind a curtain, "Don't you worry your little Elvish heads, for me and me pal here are on the job!". With a drunken look on his face, Toras hurried to exit the hall. He returned shortly though, in search of some more fine Dwarven ale. "What a waste", he sighed before leaving again, "So many big ears, and not a single keg of ale...".
The High Elven councils and the Elven king looked at one another in confusion. "What just happenned?!", wondered many of them aloud.
Here the writers decided to take a break of several months and return in a slightly different demographic composition
At this point, against all expectations, the story returned to our heroes.
"Alright, then, we agree about what must be done with the Ziggurat", summed Magis.
Here the writers decided to return to their original demographic composition
"We sure do!", agreed Toras excitedly. "What was that again?", he asked.
"Grrr..", growled Magis, "We've gone over this numerous times! Come on, I know you can do it- we need to find a...".
"Oh of course, silly me!", shouted Toras, "We need to find an Acolyte to unsummon that Ziggurat!".
Magis blinked in surprise. "Well what we agreed about was that we need to find a plan?", he said, "But your idea sounds even better!".
"Aye, 'tis!", agreed Toras, "And the first step would be to drink some fine ale!"
"No more ale for you, you are completely intoxicated already!", exclaimed Magis, "Let us depart now and find a nice obedient Acolyte to unsummon that evil Ziggurat!".
"Will I ever get a keg of fine Dwarven ale in this story?", sighed Toras and started after Magis, towards some dark forest which seemed like a very promising place for one who might be after some Undead Acolytes.
The forest, as stated in the previous paragraph, seemed rather dark. Only a few sun beams managed to get through the thick foliage, and those too usually chickened out before reaching the ground.
Magis and Toras walked around silently, stalking whichever Undead prey would reveal itself to their Elvish (and occasionally Dwarvish, whenever Toras was conscious) eyes.
"Oh I've got ye now, ye Undead bastard!", cried Toras and leapt at a nearby tree, "Hand over all ye fine ale or else I'll smite ye with me axe!". The tree refused to hand over ale of any kind, and consequently had to ignore Toras' unsuccessful attempts to land his axe upon it.
"Would you stop attacking these innocent trees?", cried Magis, "You've hit 5 of them already! What has gotten into you?!"
"I can tell ye what certainly has NOT gotten into me, lad!", replied Toras, "Fine - Dwarven - ALE!".
Magis sighed in despair. "You know", he pondered aloud, "I do begin to suspect that this here forest might not be the perfect place for one to find Undead things after all".
"That's right", agreed Toras fiercely, "They are probably sitting at a nice well-lit tavern now, enjoying some fine Dwarven ale!".
"Stop whining about your ale!", shouted Magis and slapped Toras around a bit with a large trout, "It's some strong coffee that you need right now, not ale!".
"Wine, you say?", contemplated Toras, "Aye, that might be fine as well!"
-"Now, where would we find Undead things nowadays?".
- "Eh.. Undead taverns, perchance?".
- "Good thinking! And would those taverns be located at a nice cheerfully dark forest like this?".
Toras stopped for a minute, concentrating hard on the question. "Maybe?", he eventually replied.
"No!", concluded Magis, "Because that would be too easy! In order to keep our readers properly entertained with some fighting action, such taverns would probably be found in the land of the dead, across the Lava Rivers, and beyond the valley of wraiths!"
"Ah yes", agreed Toras, "I remember now! Beyond the mountains-of-no-return!".
"Finally you're focused!", gleamed Magis satisfactorily.
"Aye, sure am!", jumped Toras, "We better celebrate the occasion with some fine Dwarven ale!"
"My mistake", sighed Magis and started deeper into the forest.
Night was falling, and whatever little light was in the forest prior to that, diminished to complete darkness.
"Have ye noticed", commented Toras wisely, "That all this darkness really makes it harder for ye to see?".
"Furthermore", added Magis informatively, "I begin to suspect that we may have gotten lost in this dark forest!".
"Ah, nonsense!", argued Toras, "We're not lost, we simply haven't the faintest idea where we are or how to get out of here!".
"Well, whichever is the case", said Magis, "We still don't know where to go now".
"That does not matter, silly Elf!", replied Toras, "The real problem here is that we still don't know where to go now!".
Our heroes stopped walking in random directions, and looked around them. After looking around the area briefly, Toras noticed that he couldn't see Magis. "Where have ye gone now, silly Elf?", he asked.
"We Night Elves are invisible at night, remember?", giggled Magis from the shadows.
"But ye aren't a Night Elf!", argued Toras.
Magis became visible again. "Well, if you want to get all technical about it...".
So they sat on the ground of the forest, and thought about the next step of the glorious quest, focusing with utmost effort at the problem which lay in front of them, until a sharp scream pierced the air, interrupting Magis' thoughts of Elvish things and Toras' thoughts of fine Dwarven ale.
"What was that?", cried Magis suspiciously.
"Must've been Dwarven ale in distress, methinks!", answered Toras," Quick now, lad! Press F9 to open the Quests window!".
Magis obeyed, and the Quests window quickly came up. As expected, it contained a quest. "Save that screaming kid in the forest!", it stated specifically, "From the nasty, threateningly large creep that chases it!".
"Are ye sure about the size of the creep?", hesitated Toras.
"Oh yes, that definitely sounded like a kid being chased by a threateningly large creep, don't you think?".
Toras drew his axe out. "Well then, I think it's obvious what we must now do!"
"Flee in terror?", suggested Magis courageously.
"No, ye silly Elf!", cried Toras, "We've got a creep to rescue and a kid to slay!"
"Don't you mean a kid to rescue and a creep to slay?", said Magis with a questioning voice.
Toras blinked in confusion. "Aye, I guess that could work too", he agreed, "As long as me gets to slay something, and then go home and celebrate the occasion with some ale!".
"Alright then, to battle!", declared Magis bravely, drew out Elvenblade, his trusty Elven blade, and fled in terror. Moments later, he was followed by a terrified kid, which in turn was followed by a nasty and hungry, though not necessarily threateningly large, Forest Troll.
Toras didn't have a second to lose. "Oh I've got ye now, ye nasty Gnoll!", he shouted and leapt at the Troll.
"That's a Forest Troll, you know", commented Magis from a nearby bush, and quickly dropped back to the floor after being hit by a throwing axe.
The Troll, surprised of the attack, not to mention of the classification as a Gnoll, turned around at Toras with a growl, but found nothing as Toras was already hanging on his back, ready to search the inside of his head for fine ale of some sort.
The Troll, being far too stupid to subject to the element of surprise, quickly turned around and threw the Dwarf to the ground. Toras fell, having only the time to see an axe flying at his general direction, and to evasively dodge it by tripping over his axe and falling backwards.
Toras picked up his axe, then rose back to his full height and charged at the Troll with a ferocious war cry. A rain of flying axes around him threatened to knock him back to the ground, but nevertheless he managed to dodge most of them and eventually reach the Troll and detach his head with a single swing of his mighty axe.
"Don't lose your head!", Magis grinned stupidly at the Troll who fell to the floor, spraying blood in all sorts of interesting directions, after getting up from the bush where he was hiding unconsciously.
"Hey Elf, ye've got an axe sticking from your head", mentioned Toras.
"Oh, that little thing?", said Magis uninterestedly and pulled the throwing axe out of his head, "Don't you worry, we Elves are not easy prey!".
Their attention quickly shifted to the shiny treasure chest which lay where until recently was a beheaded Forest Troll. "Shiny!", remarked Magis and quickly right-clicked on the chest, which suddenly morphed into a crystal ball and moved into his inventory.
"Hey, what else have ye got in that inventory of yers, Elf?", wondered Toras.
Magis was quickly reminded of chapter 1. "Look, the high council gave me my very own Elf!", he grinned and passed Toras his small mirror.
"Have ye gone crazy?!", gasped Toras after a glance at the mirror, "'Tis a Dwarf, in there, not an Elf!".
Magis took back the mirror, from which an Elf grinned at him with certainty. "Ah, you must be drunk again", he shrugged.
"Silly Elves", muttered Toras to himself. "And what's that round crystallic object that the nasty Gnoll dropped?".
"Looks like a Crystal Ball, complete with 5 charges!", replied Magis.
"But how do ye silly Elves use these strange round things?", wondered Toras.
"Simple", explained Magis in detail, "By clicking on it and then on the mini-map!". He pointed at the mini-map at the bottom left of the screen.
"Ah, I knew that", claimed Toras. "Well we better get going, the ale might be just out of this forest!".
"May I remind you that it's an Acolyte we're after", reminded Magis to Toras, as well as to the confused readers.
"I guess we'll find that out for sure only in the next chapter!", concluded Magis.
"Ooh, look at that!", bounced Magis excitedly. "Yes, I believe we've gained a level!", agreed Toras drunkenly. "Yes we have", repeated Magis, "and you know what that means!".
- "We now have more Strength!".
- "And agility!".
- "And a shiny skill point for ye to spend!".
"And most important of all...", added Magis, "We have also more.. uh.. erm.. what do you call that?".
"Fine Dwarven ale?", suggested Toras with gleaming eyes.
"No no no", protested Magis, "It must have been something related to Elves...".
"Bigger ears, perhaps?", suggested Toras, "So ye can track down and hunt some fine Dwarven ale?".
"Of course!", jumped Magis, "We are now more intelligent than before! Which means we can now move on to the next phase of our perilous quest!".
"To drink fine Dwarven ale, you mean?", assumed Toras, "Aye, I feel better qualified to do that now!".
"Back to Elvenville then!", declared Magis and began marching in some direction, "To carefully plan our next move!".
"And to use ye large ears and have some fine Dwarven ale!", agreed Toras and started marching as well.
Meanwhile, back at the Black Citadel, the evil Lich king was upset. "Foolish creature!", screeched the lich across the chess board at the Abomination which played against him, "You are supposed to move bishops diagonally, not to eat them!".
"WhAt wE dO", apologized the Abomination.
"You underlings will never understand this great game", sighed the evil Lich king skeletally and turned away from the chess table, just when an Acolyte entered the room.
"Acolyte!", greeted the Lich king warmly, "Have you humble servant performed the task which I commanded you to?".
"Yes, master, I have!", coughed the Acolyte, "Elvenville stands helpless against the mighty structure!".
"Marvelous", stated the evil Lich king, "We can now move on to phase 2 of my gloriously evil plan!".
The Acolyte stared at the Lich king. The Lich king stared at the Acolyte. The Acolyte checked something in his laptop and then stared back at the Lich king. The Abomination ate the black queen.
"Excuse me, O great master", said the Acolyte eventually, "But what is phase 2?".
They stared at each other again for another few minutes. The Abomination ate both white and black kings, and thus the game ended in a draw.
"Phase 2!", screamed the Lich angrily, and there was silence again. The Abomination, tired of chess, began nibbling on some WarCraft3 action figures.
"Yes, master?", asked the Acolyte, "What is phase 2?".
"Such top secret information is beyond mere Acolytes such as yourself!", screamed the Lich king, "Now go take care of Phase 2!".
"But, master...", hesitated the Acolyte.
"Silence, slave!", croaked the Lich king, "This phase relies so heavily on the element of surprise that even I am not allowed yet to know it!".
"Very well", mumbled the Acolyte with confusion, and started out of the room.
"Don't forget to buy my favorite cookies!", echoed the voice of the Lich king behind him.
The Abomination burped up a black knight. "Alright, you", growled the Lich at him, "Let's try this just one more time...".
The Elven king nervously roamed back and forth in his Elvish throne room. "Augh...", he moaned helplessly and painfully every once in a while, upon catching random glimpses of his poor Elvish window.
One of his many High Elven Councils, who stood in the room and observed him for some reason which is of no interest to our readers, tried to calm him down. "Worry not, my king!", he assured, "I assure you that Sir Magis the Blue will find a solution to this disturbing problem!".
"Not a chance", whispers were heard in the Elvencrowd, "Not if it took him a million krillion years!".
"You fool" , replied other whispered voices, "there is no such number as krillion!".
"Well even if there were such a number, it would not be enough!".
"Silence!", cried the king, "You all keep arguing, we are still helpless in front of this gruesome piece of Undead architecture, and it's already 11:00AM yet I've only had 2 breakfasts! When will that Magis return already?".
As if fired out of a Wand of Lightning Shield, Magis blasted through a window, performing a backflip in some unconventional directions and landing on his face. "Worry not, my liege!", Magis leaped off the floor, "For I have found a solution to thy majestic problem!". After a quick glance at his compass, he quickly charged out the skylight.
"Hey there, laddies!", declared Toras, stumbling bravely from behind a curtain, "Don't you worry your little Elvish heads, for me and me pal here are on the job!". With a drunken look on his face, Toras hurried to exit the hall. He returned shortly though, in search of some more fine Dwarven ale. "What a waste", he sighed before leaving again, "So many big ears, and not a single keg of ale...".
The High Elven councils and the Elven king looked at one another in confusion. "What just happenned?!", wondered many of them aloud.
Here the writers decided to take a break of several months and return in a slightly different demographic composition
At this point, against all expectations, the story returned to our heroes.
"Alright, then, we agree about what must be done with the Ziggurat", summed Magis.
Here the writers decided to return to their original demographic composition
"We sure do!", agreed Toras excitedly. "What was that again?", he asked.
"Grrr..", growled Magis, "We've gone over this numerous times! Come on, I know you can do it- we need to find a...".
"Oh of course, silly me!", shouted Toras, "We need to find an Acolyte to unsummon that Ziggurat!".
Magis blinked in surprise. "Well what we agreed about was that we need to find a plan?", he said, "But your idea sounds even better!".
"Aye, 'tis!", agreed Toras, "And the first step would be to drink some fine ale!"
"No more ale for you, you are completely intoxicated already!", exclaimed Magis, "Let us depart now and find a nice obedient Acolyte to unsummon that evil Ziggurat!".
"Will I ever get a keg of fine Dwarven ale in this story?", sighed Toras and started after Magis, towards some dark forest which seemed like a very promising place for one who might be after some Undead Acolytes.
The forest, as stated in the previous paragraph, seemed rather dark. Only a few sun beams managed to get through the thick foliage, and those too usually chickened out before reaching the ground.
Magis and Toras walked around silently, stalking whichever Undead prey would reveal itself to their Elvish (and occasionally Dwarvish, whenever Toras was conscious) eyes.
"Oh I've got ye now, ye Undead bastard!", cried Toras and leapt at a nearby tree, "Hand over all ye fine ale or else I'll smite ye with me axe!". The tree refused to hand over ale of any kind, and consequently had to ignore Toras' unsuccessful attempts to land his axe upon it.
"Would you stop attacking these innocent trees?", cried Magis, "You've hit 5 of them already! What has gotten into you?!"
"I can tell ye what certainly has NOT gotten into me, lad!", replied Toras, "Fine - Dwarven - ALE!".
Magis sighed in despair. "You know", he pondered aloud, "I do begin to suspect that this here forest might not be the perfect place for one to find Undead things after all".
"That's right", agreed Toras fiercely, "They are probably sitting at a nice well-lit tavern now, enjoying some fine Dwarven ale!".
"Stop whining about your ale!", shouted Magis and slapped Toras around a bit with a large trout, "It's some strong coffee that you need right now, not ale!".
"Wine, you say?", contemplated Toras, "Aye, that might be fine as well!"
-"Now, where would we find Undead things nowadays?".
- "Eh.. Undead taverns, perchance?".
- "Good thinking! And would those taverns be located at a nice cheerfully dark forest like this?".
Toras stopped for a minute, concentrating hard on the question. "Maybe?", he eventually replied.
"No!", concluded Magis, "Because that would be too easy! In order to keep our readers properly entertained with some fighting action, such taverns would probably be found in the land of the dead, across the Lava Rivers, and beyond the valley of wraiths!"
"Ah yes", agreed Toras, "I remember now! Beyond the mountains-of-no-return!".
"Finally you're focused!", gleamed Magis satisfactorily.
"Aye, sure am!", jumped Toras, "We better celebrate the occasion with some fine Dwarven ale!"
"My mistake", sighed Magis and started deeper into the forest.
Night was falling, and whatever little light was in the forest prior to that, diminished to complete darkness.
"Have ye noticed", commented Toras wisely, "That all this darkness really makes it harder for ye to see?".
"Furthermore", added Magis informatively, "I begin to suspect that we may have gotten lost in this dark forest!".
"Ah, nonsense!", argued Toras, "We're not lost, we simply haven't the faintest idea where we are or how to get out of here!".
"Well, whichever is the case", said Magis, "We still don't know where to go now".
"That does not matter, silly Elf!", replied Toras, "The real problem here is that we still don't know where to go now!".
Our heroes stopped walking in random directions, and looked around them. After looking around the area briefly, Toras noticed that he couldn't see Magis. "Where have ye gone now, silly Elf?", he asked.
"We Night Elves are invisible at night, remember?", giggled Magis from the shadows.
"But ye aren't a Night Elf!", argued Toras.
Magis became visible again. "Well, if you want to get all technical about it...".
So they sat on the ground of the forest, and thought about the next step of the glorious quest, focusing with utmost effort at the problem which lay in front of them, until a sharp scream pierced the air, interrupting Magis' thoughts of Elvish things and Toras' thoughts of fine Dwarven ale.
"What was that?", cried Magis suspiciously.
"Must've been Dwarven ale in distress, methinks!", answered Toras," Quick now, lad! Press F9 to open the Quests window!".
Magis obeyed, and the Quests window quickly came up. As expected, it contained a quest. "Save that screaming kid in the forest!", it stated specifically, "From the nasty, threateningly large creep that chases it!".
"Are ye sure about the size of the creep?", hesitated Toras.
"Oh yes, that definitely sounded like a kid being chased by a threateningly large creep, don't you think?".
Toras drew his axe out. "Well then, I think it's obvious what we must now do!"
"Flee in terror?", suggested Magis courageously.
"No, ye silly Elf!", cried Toras, "We've got a creep to rescue and a kid to slay!"
"Don't you mean a kid to rescue and a creep to slay?", said Magis with a questioning voice.
Toras blinked in confusion. "Aye, I guess that could work too", he agreed, "As long as me gets to slay something, and then go home and celebrate the occasion with some ale!".
"Alright then, to battle!", declared Magis bravely, drew out Elvenblade, his trusty Elven blade, and fled in terror. Moments later, he was followed by a terrified kid, which in turn was followed by a nasty and hungry, though not necessarily threateningly large, Forest Troll.
Toras didn't have a second to lose. "Oh I've got ye now, ye nasty Gnoll!", he shouted and leapt at the Troll.
"That's a Forest Troll, you know", commented Magis from a nearby bush, and quickly dropped back to the floor after being hit by a throwing axe.
The Troll, surprised of the attack, not to mention of the classification as a Gnoll, turned around at Toras with a growl, but found nothing as Toras was already hanging on his back, ready to search the inside of his head for fine ale of some sort.
The Troll, being far too stupid to subject to the element of surprise, quickly turned around and threw the Dwarf to the ground. Toras fell, having only the time to see an axe flying at his general direction, and to evasively dodge it by tripping over his axe and falling backwards.
Toras picked up his axe, then rose back to his full height and charged at the Troll with a ferocious war cry. A rain of flying axes around him threatened to knock him back to the ground, but nevertheless he managed to dodge most of them and eventually reach the Troll and detach his head with a single swing of his mighty axe.
"Don't lose your head!", Magis grinned stupidly at the Troll who fell to the floor, spraying blood in all sorts of interesting directions, after getting up from the bush where he was hiding unconsciously.
"Hey Elf, ye've got an axe sticking from your head", mentioned Toras.
"Oh, that little thing?", said Magis uninterestedly and pulled the throwing axe out of his head, "Don't you worry, we Elves are not easy prey!".
Their attention quickly shifted to the shiny treasure chest which lay where until recently was a beheaded Forest Troll. "Shiny!", remarked Magis and quickly right-clicked on the chest, which suddenly morphed into a crystal ball and moved into his inventory.
"Hey, what else have ye got in that inventory of yers, Elf?", wondered Toras.
Magis was quickly reminded of chapter 1. "Look, the high council gave me my very own Elf!", he grinned and passed Toras his small mirror.
"Have ye gone crazy?!", gasped Toras after a glance at the mirror, "'Tis a Dwarf, in there, not an Elf!".
Magis took back the mirror, from which an Elf grinned at him with certainty. "Ah, you must be drunk again", he shrugged.
"Silly Elves", muttered Toras to himself. "And what's that round crystallic object that the nasty Gnoll dropped?".
"Looks like a Crystal Ball, complete with 5 charges!", replied Magis.
"But how do ye silly Elves use these strange round things?", wondered Toras.
"Simple", explained Magis in detail, "By clicking on it and then on the mini-map!". He pointed at the mini-map at the bottom left of the screen.
"Ah, I knew that", claimed Toras. "Well we better get going, the ale might be just out of this forest!".
"May I remind you that it's an Acolyte we're after", reminded Magis to Toras, as well as to the confused readers.
"I guess we'll find that out for sure only in the next chapter!", concluded Magis.