Sneaks through atrium

It was, without question, the most harrowing two hours of my life. Inching my way through darkness, surrounded by lethal predators. They couldn’t see me. But in the darkness, it was only by my E.F.S. and targeting spell that I was able to keep from stepping on or brushing against one of them.

It was a minefield. And as I crossed, I realized just how calling my own stupidity a “social minefield” did flippant injustice to an actual minefield, and anyone who had ever been caught in one. This was a minefield. And all the mines were alive and moving. One wrong move, and it wasn’t just I who would die for it.

But I did make it. And for once the wasteland was pouring out the favors. The Overstallion’s door was as easy to pick as advertised. From the skeleton, I guessed the Overstallion locked himself in, and I feared he had consumed the anti-chimera potion. But within his locked safe, I found both it and the recipe, as well as an old recording. My guess was that it was his last words. If it had been Stable Two, and I had been the Overmare, watching everyone die because of some magical accident? I suspect I might have done the same.