Bron's perfect gift"I am an apprentice wizard, not a pack mule!!!" said Marcurio, angry, as his leader carelessly dropped just another embalming tool and two linen wraps in his bag – pretty much all that could be found in that desolated crypt, but why the hell did they need to take them all?!
Bron had heard it so many times that, practically immune to the sentence, he walked out with a satisfied smile and stretched in the sunlight, of course not even waiting for his follower to drag his sack full of garbage – pardon me, precious loot – out before mounting his horse, ready to head back to Riften.
"Why are we… nngh… taking all this… wait for me!" Marcurio was even more angry knowing that gems and gold were not too heavy for Bron, as he always stored them jealously on his own person.
Bron kept on riding, but not taking the straight route; he had accumulated an impressive amount of garb- loot, yet he still wasn't sure any of it would be of use in his next, very personal quest. Maybe raiding som