Still pre-coffee.

Last night's dream:  that I was Tim Drake (formerly Robin, now Red Robin, for those of you shamefully not keeping up on DC Comics continuity), and that Steph and Dick and I were investigating.... something.  I am honestly not positive what, because it was confusing in the nonlinear, nonsensical ways dreams so often are, and our attempt to find a forensic pathologist ended with us busting a crime ring of elderly murderous doctors who dabbled in applied toxicology thanks to the large number of venomous snakes they kept.  Also one of them had a gun, which was clevery defeated by all of us wearing Kevlar bodysuits.  I was the only one who didn't get bitten, but none of us were worried, because, uh, we're the goddamn Bat-family.   We have the antivenin back at the Cave.

For once, a lucid, coherent dream that in no way helps me write anything.  Ah well.  It was fun being Tim.

An excerpt.

“These are the rules of our game,” he said. “I will strike at you with a riddle as my lance. If it go unanswered, you are overthrown. If it is answered true, then your wit is the most cunning, and I am overthrown. The knight overthrown suffers the fate of the overthrown, to be trampled under the hooves of his horse, and greatly I thank you for bringing one, for else your fate would have been held in abeyance while we sought for so noble a creature.”

“Gramercy,” I said, and bowed, but no courtesy was in him now and he ignored it, still speaking,

“Should you win, or should you live, then it will be time to tilt with Magpie Eater, whose game may be different than mine, or it may not.” As that covered the options entirely I stayed silent, and after a moment the fey boy cleared his throat – an awful noise, like the scrape of whetstones and the clatter of bones – and assayed his riddle.

“Sir Dinadan has adventured into a lonely wood. He finds a bridge before him guarded by a giant with an axe and cord. Says the giant 'All knights who would cross this bridge must tell me something of themselves. If they speak truly, then I choke them until they are dead. If they speak false, then my axe will take their head. Tell me, Sir Dinadan, what Dinadan must say to save his life?'”

 

Quota met.

97 new words and 96 edited words in on Ch. 8 of Hellion Prince.  267 words on the Knight of the Star expansion sequel god I need a name for this.  Not all of that excerpt below is new, and not all of what I wrote is in the excerpt.

Also, all Cretans are liars.