Munchkin Oratoria: A Loki Famiglia Story

The afternoon sun hung low against the guild hall’s roof, its shadow creating a lull in the bustle of the crowd. People of all shapes and races, in clothes of all colors and cuts roamed the forefront of Orario’s highest authority, each to their own beat and tone. “Could you repeat that?” “Sir, Mr. Deimne sir!” The hapless youth stood on attention to his non-superior: a hobbit of about two-thirds his height, an absurd sight to those otherwise not in the know. “At ease”—Finn sighed—“we’re not military.” The hobbit was never one for ceremony and neither were the two in the same familia. The people around them stared at the sight of a Loki high executive talking to some no-name adventurer. They were attracting too much attention for both Finn’s tastes and the youth’s confidence. The blond shook his head. “You were saying?” “We saw an adventurer down in the fifth floor with two goblins tied to his person, sir!” The youth did a salute, and Finn couldn’t help another sigh. He didn’t need to ask further than that.