Patting the side of Gerrart's shoulder, Rizz brandished his trademark grin.
"Whether people know it or not, that's my title. Swearing upon the Menace is the same as swearing on my name.
"As for how I got the title, that's a long ass story. But it's kinda self-explanatory if you think about it. Then again, I guess you guys have zero context cause of the gate situation… I'll explain some of that later. I might as well tell all three of you once the mine's cleared."
Dodging the topic for the moment, Rizz readied his enchantment brush and held out his other hand. "You ready?"
The white-haired wolfkin felt his jaw go lax.
"That… That is… But why would you want the title of Menace? I don't know where Trodar is. But… regardless, I don't understand why–"
"Who said I chose that title, huh?" Rizz questioned, raising one eyebrow.
"I just so happen to be an opportunist. When life kept giving me shit, I made manure and monopolized that shit!
