Honestly, I don’t know what I have to complain about. I already have a steady beer budget, a best friend, and some kick-ass boots. That’s all a girl needs in life!
Well, except the respect of her peers. And a place an orphaned Half-Fae can permanently call home, like my mentor’s shop, The Regal Fae Pawn and Loan. Or a clue about who I am and why I’m here, or why I was given up.
Okay, there are some outstanding claim tickets in my life, I guess you could say.
But I seriously don’t see how a cobalt blue-eyed Borderlands Captain named Alaric Sinclair, who literally smashes into my Shop seeking a murdering dragon-gold smuggler is supposed to help my situation. But then the arrogant jackasses of the Pawn Council dangle an enticing gem â€"help Captain Sinclair catch the smuggler while dodging assassins, and they’ll give me The Regal . It seems simple, even if I can’t stop thinking about how naked Captain Sinclair is under his clothes.
But some of those claim tickets are still outstanding and might end up melting me like a piece of rotten goblin steel.
One thing I know for sure: Cobalt blue, when ingested or inhaled, is toxic.
