"Damn it all!" Fulguralis yells, slamming the door of the house.
"What is it, dear?" Fuubaar asks calmly.
Shaking the piece of parchment held crumpled in his fist, the warlock stutters twice as he tries to speak his mind. When words fail him, he throws his arms up in the air in frustration, releasing the paper to float down through the air. As the parchment floats, it is slowly consumed by fire and only ashes hit the ground.
Fuubaar glances at the ashes and frowns, "It was bad enough when your Imp stuck the quills up his nose and goaded the Doomguard into setting the furniture on fire. Do you have to make a mess as well as your silly minions?"
With a wave of her hand, the paladin restores the parchment from the ashes, at the same time trans-locating the note to her hand. Her eyes slowly fan the document as she tries to understand why her husband is so upset. About halfway through, her eyes crinkle a bit as she struggles to suppress a giggle.
"Oh stop laughing," Fulguralis pouts. "You're just lucky they're not screwing around with Paladins."
"Why would they dear? My order is in better shape now than it's been in ages," Fuubaar retorts. "Really, what upsets you the most? That someone is working on these things, or that it's the mages?"
"Damn mages! Ever since we gave those dunces in Dalaran any hint of power they've been mucking things up," Fulgurals rants. "Now.... NOW they want to develop both a persistent pet capable of combat AND a method for teleporting group members into the same dungeon. It's blasphemy!"
Smiling, Fuubaar points out, "It rather does take away a few of the things that warlocks think makes them special, doesn't it?"
"Damn mages!" Fulguralis rages on, "If the freaking warlock council would get on it and start giving us some things to look forward to too, maybe those stupid spellslingers wouldn't walk around all smug and self important."
"Aww, is my wittle warlock's pwide all bwuised?" Fuubaar teases.
"Oh go jump in some fel flames." Fulgurais shoots back.
The paladin glares at the warlock, then points out happily, "Well at least the whole teleport thing will help everyone."
Fulguralis stalks over to his wife, takes the parchment out of her hands, and sets fire to it. Cupping one hand underneath the burning document, he catches the ashes and deposits them in the trash bin by the door. Robes swirling, he turns and heads for the bedroom in back, grumbling to himself the whole time.
Fuubaar waits until he is out of the room before bursting out in a melodious waterfall of laughter.
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