“Lord Catatonia’s Tepid Travelogue of despair

Following the last clash I took Smeego aside, in private. I instructed him that I needed an assistant. He looked at his bandaged fetlock and seemed relieved. I handed him the bucket marked with the words “teeth and hair” and told him he was the cleaning coach.

It was then that a ragtag bunch of scaly faced lizards arrived, spoiling for a fight. I sighed, and picked up my pummelling horn once again. We fought, but our hearts were not in it. Time and again the lizards would engage us, the mummy lizards pinning our wretched goats, while the baby lizards scampered through the battle-lines, and the daddy lizard menaced. Soon there was nought to fight for but blood. As the deathclock ticked into the dimming embers of the conflict, we were holding the bladderball safe to give us more fighting time.

I hope the chaos gods are pleased with our efforts in their lordly gifted malfortunism. Next time, we will seek to exalt them with greater mayhem. Chasten me masters.
”