hey looked to the massive rock face on a side of the small rock hill on the island.  It was new to this island also, though no one took credit for adding it.  Basicly, a sort of limited golem, the mages had named the face “The announcer” due to its talents for stating the obvious.  Still, it was a very good piece of work, and difficult to dispell.  After it proved to be a free guard dog, announcing “A thief has arrived!” when appropriate, they decided to let it be.
     Giggling, Woodbead and Ayeesha chased down a sheep and cut it’s throat.  They then dragged it’s body over to the dragon which was so weak now that they had to push it in it’s mouth.  There were only two other sheep left on the island, bought from a local herd to feed it.  By the time they had got to it, the dragon was able to snap the animal’s body up and swallow it instantly.
     “Poor baby!” Ayeesha hugged it as it curled up to sleep.  It would spend the night out here, then need more food in the morning.
     Woodbead rowed his boat around the small island, towards the stone pilliar in which the stairs to the bridge were.  As he went approached it, Ayeesha followed him on the floating bridge that joined the small island to the pilliar.  It occurred to him that perhaps he had been a little rude.
     “I’m sorry, I should have offered you a ride.  I thought you’d be longer with your dragon.”
     She laughed frendily, “No problem, he’s better now.  I do need to ask to borrow your boat again.”  This time, she did appear a bit nervous, as if expecting him to get mad at her.
“I was planning to leave, but I could postpone it.”  Woodbead offered, “Do you need to go anywhere? I row better.”
     “Welllll-”  She trailed, so embarrased she had lost track of how much sand and mud covered her.  “It’s for my dragon.  Those three sheep are only enough to last through the night.  He’ll be hungry for more in the morning.”
     Woodbead thought.  “We are both a little beat up this day and I DON’T want to go out at night, but I have an idea.”
     Ayeesha smiled, and Woodbead noticed she was holding the cut saddlebag and the sack of flowers.  “If you can get someone to send for them tonight, I will be real greatful.”  She reached into her purse and counted out some coins, then pulled a small vial of berries from a padded pouch.
     “I do pay my own way, and this is for the sheep.  Whoever gets them needs to feed them these berries, which will make them sleep for the trip.  Come see me when you get done, I have to attend to these plants quickly.”
She rushed into the pilliar and up the spiral stairs while Woodbead rowed around it and tied his boat to the dock.  At least he did not have to hoist it just yet.
     Climbing the stairs proved a chore, as always.  He kept thinking about asking for an elevator but was too embarrassed to make the expensive request.   He then went to visit Bone-Send, the Necromancer, who was about his best friend on that island.  Also, the man lived on the lowest level of the Isle of Mist’s Gift, down another tall staircase, which he would have to climb up again.  As this was at sea level, near the dragon’s room, no windows showed the outside, there was only the green flicker of chemical torches and various musty, unpleasant scents.
     He knocked on the door, and a cracking voice bid him to enter.  Opening the door, his nose was assaulted by a slight stench of death, and he could only see blackness with a few faint candlelights.
     “Uh, Bone-”  Woodbead called out quietly.
     “BEAD!  I knew she’d keep ya here another day, come on in!”  The cracking voice approached a human tone.  “I have won a wager of five small coins thanks to her.”
    “I can’t see anything.”  Woodbead protested.
    “Ahhh, natural light will do that to you.  I’ve been reading up this special tome that’s blank if the light’s too bright.”
     The light in the chamber brightened, and Woodbead saw that his friend had pulled a lever above his desk that pushed two crystals nearer to each other.  This reaction caused various crystals set in skulls affixed to the walls lit the room with a sickly yellow light.
     He saw his friend sitting at his desk, who had turned his skinny face with a short, clean black beard to face him.  In many ways, the necromancer Bone-Send had been compared to Woodbead.  Except for their schools, they both focused with objects related to their names.  The necromancer wore similar garb, except that his robes were black, his hat ended in a blunt point, and his sash was made of various bones instead of carved wooden beads.  He also had a staff, but this one ended in a small skull and had bones dangling from it.  Unlike Woodbead, Bone-Send was deathly thin, and his clothing contained lots of padding to make him appear thicker.  They had had many a discussion wishing that they had each other’s metabolism.
As the necromancer’s eyes adjusted to the light, he was startled by how dirty and beat up his freind was.
     “WOW!”  he exclaimed, “I knew she’d keep ya here, but by Thasaidon, I didne think she’d rape ya, or that she’d have ta!”
     The reference was unknown to Woodbead, for while he came from another part of this world, his friend was from another realm entirely.  Like Woodbead, he spoke little of his origins except to say that he had come from an island and that his branch of majick was the rule, not the exception there.
     Woodbead quickly went over what had happened, skimming over the extent of the Dragonsbane flowers that had existed on that plataue.  His necromancer friend was even greedier for money than he was, and he would throw a fit at hearing the scale of destruction involved, akin to throwing away a bag of gold to get a single piece of it.  He would likely understand, however, for he loved Ayeesha’s dragon for the corrosive ichors it drooled.
     “Is the critter ok?  If it can’t even get into it’s lair now-”  Bone-Send asked.  “It’s a nice beast, and it drools right into my cauldron in exchange for a spicy roast.”
     “That’s why I’m here,” Woodbead said, “Someone needs to get it more sheep tonight, and I was wondering if one of your, uh, servants, could do the job?”
     “Well, what are friends for?  Also for showing around your hometown should they drop by to crash a night, understand?”

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