| Your shield is burnt
to a crisp. It's too hot to handle, and you toss it away.
"Dash it all!" you cry. Now you're really angry. That shield was a gift from your Aunt Minnie -- she mined and forged the metal herself. Well, at least you're still wearing her argyle socks -- and the dragon isn't going to get those without a fight! You rise and stride toward the dragon. |