Fulguralis and Fuubaar lounged on the back porch of the manor. They sipped large mugs of dwarven stout, while watching the sun bronze over, and then bleed down into the horizon. Long shadows chased a myriad of critters around the yard. The warlock had taken great pains enticing all the squirrels, rabbits, and other cute woodland creatures with delicious nuts and berries scattered around the property.
Next to Fuubaar hovered a black feline, bobbing on a levitating broomstick. The paladin gazed at her familiar, and smiled warmly. "Isn't it so cute?" she asked.
Fulguralis nodded with a smile of his own. "It is, honey."
She tossed it a treat, and it purred loudly.
"What a wonderful evening," Fuubaar announced, gazing contentedly on the scene. "It's so peaceful. So many of the adventurers are away at a 'con' - whatever that is - that it's up to use to feed and nurture the critters."
"Mmmhmm," Fulguralis agreed. "All of the cute little critters."
"I'm so glad I was able to get this pet, too. And to think, all that nice vendor wanted was a bagful of candy."
"I got a pet, too," Fulguralis said suddenly.
"You did, honey?" Fuubaar turned to her husband. "That's great!"
"Yeah, I had to solve a murder-robbery in order to recover a powerful artifact, but forensic evidence - and a little old-fashion sleuthing - led me right to it." The warlock shrugged. "It was pretty easy."
"Wow, that sounds intense. What was the artifact?"
Fuubaar scrunched up her face in disbelief. "A crate?"
"Yeah, pretty silly to hatch a huge, involved plot in order to retrieve a simple crate."
"I'll say, So who was behind it?"
"Some insane mage."
"Did you return it to him?"
Fulguralis laughed. "Help a mage?"
"Yeah, you're right. Stupid question," Fuubaar replied. "So what did you do with it?"
Fulguralis smiled. "Well, I was going to return it to this archaelogy dude, but it appears the thing has taken a liking to me." The warlock turned around. There was a small crate sitting behind his chair. "Haven't you, buddy?" he cooed.
The crate rattled in reply.
"All right. Dinner time," Fulguralis announced.
Fuubaar gave a startled cry as the crate bounded off the porch. It settled near a bush. Eventually, curiosity got the better of a squirrel, and it approached to sniff warily at the box. The critter was there one moment, and gone the next, snatched into the box by a long, pink tongue. They heard a muffled squeak from inside, and then, silence.
Fuubaar turned to her husband. "Gee, I can't imagine why," she said dryly.
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