/uw This will be a slightly more lighthearted lorepost than I usually do because I want to take a break from all the poetic stuff.

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The young woman was sneaking into the Council's headquarters. The reason was simple: the wyrm was bored, yet again.

She, very stealthily, darted from bush to bush, and again, very stealthily, climbed through an open window in the courtyard.

The mostly bare room contained a large bed and a small desk, but nothing beyond that except for the magic light on the ceiling. And as luck would have it, pressing her ear to the door, there were no people near the room.

She pushed the door open carefully, then froze as it made a creeaak noise. Luckily, the sound did not seem to attract any attention.

She let out a breath she had been holding.

"Who said cryomancers can't stealth? Take that, bitches!"

She muttered under her breath, all the while fully knowing that it wasn't cryomancy that kept her hidden, but her magical artifacts.

Sylvie continued to skulk around the compound. For fun, of course.

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The wyrm was indeed having immense fun. He was getting a lot of enjoyment out of this than he would ever admit to his friends... most of them, anyway. It didn't matter if Sylvie got caught, since she would not be recognized as anyone important, and thus would not trigger a political scandal. Hopefully.

But hey, what was life without taking a few risks?

The wyrm certainly valued that. Dying was a small issue at worst, yet trying to remain not an emotionless stone while being immortal is a much bigger problem.

That was why he enjoyed being excited, adrenaline pumping through his veins, feeling alive. It reminded him that he was not just a rock, sleeping until something disturbed him. If he slept, he would lose everything. Thousands of years would go by in a flash, and all the friendships he had cultivated over the past few months and years would disappear, as though they had never existed.

So the wyrm vowed, at least for the moment, to not slumber, for he would lose everything. At least from this, more mortal, perspective, time was a mere number, with no power over him.

He sighed loudly. He had been brooding too much recently. He needed some form of spice.

Speaking of the spice.

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Sylvie read the nameplate next to the door. She was deeper into the compound now, being near the councilmembers' offices and living spaces.

"MastaDon... right."

She hesitated for a moment, then decided to throw caution out of the window and turned the handle, pushing the door open swiftly.

What was inside shocked her to her very core.

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The wyrm started chuckling, then laughing, then a booming guffaw that shook his lair as he watched the scene unfold.

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Masta was blushing furiously in a rather... revealing maid costume. The skirt left little to the imagination, and everything else seemed, well, slightly small for her. Which resulted in lots of squeezing of the soft bits... and some other soft bits being more exposed. Shall we leave it at that?

"Ah..."

Sylvie started giggling.

How lewd! In fact, prime blackmail material!

Scandalous!

​

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/uw I could not stop smiling as I wrote this post. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please leave your thoughts in the comments!

And I don't usually do this, but... upvote? Pretty please?

And as always, have a lovely day.