"Oh, gods! I know what's happening." Vastor said. "Strip, Zoreth!"
"Shouldn't you offer me a drink f-" More vomiting cut the joke midway.
"First, Orulm already did that. That's one of my best wines and you are wasting it. Second, I'm sorry but I'm taken, miss, and so are you." As Zoreth had her Bookwyrm armor slip off her body, the Master covered her with a blanket. "I said strip, silly girl."
He took off her Skull as well and the vomiting stopped immediately.
"What… what's happening to me?" Zoreth felt better by the second, now her head hurt just as if someone was drilling it from either side and the metal points were meeting in the middle.
"The second part of our haul." Vastor replied. "Information. Capturing a Guardian was a gamble whose odds of success plummeted the moment Roghar called for reinforcements.
