Jirix/Redcloak

Jirix sighed. It had been a long day. After being ressurected by Redcloak that morning, or whatever time it was under that gods awful rift, he had spent hours trying to locate an object that was probably at the bottom of the ocean by then. He wondered how he could possibly have gotten into this mess… He supposed that it started when Redcloak had taken over. This was an uncommon occurance, a goblin taking over a hobgoblin tribe, but he had gotten used to it by then, as had most of the troops. He had started out as a common, low level cleric, but after the battle, he'd earned enough xp to attract the attention of Redcloak. Soon after becoming his pupil, he began to interact with his leader socially as well. Soon, Redcloak was all he thought about. Day and night, a fiery passion for his leader commanded control of his mind. But Redcloak didn't have time for anything but the gates by then. And so, Jirix had decided. He had to talk to Redcloak, tell him how he had grown to love a goblin that had once been only been a leader to him, and now was his sole reason to live.

Jirix ran through the hall of the dark tower, searching for Redcloak. There were only two places he could be. One, in the tactics room, where he would almost certainly be with the lich. Two, in his chambers, which were guarded by traps. Therefore, he needed a distraction. He soon reached the door. As he peered inside, he saw two figures. One was hunched over a map and had a tattered blood colored cloak. There he is! Jirix though to himself, his heart racing. The other figure was a bone white creature with an unmistakable aura of fear and necromantic humor.
"Xykon, sir. The new shipment of acid beetle infested banana cream pies has arrived."
"Already? Good. Redcloak, I'm going to the troop barracks. A hobgoblin scream a day keeps the negative energy spells away." The lich remarked as he strolled nonchalantly out the door, passing Jirix. Afterwords, Jirix was alone with Redcloak.
"Sir, I have something to tell you."
"If it doesn't have to do with the morale of the troops in barracks 17, I'm not interested."
Jirix frowned. This was not how he imagined it would go. Perhaps he was taking the wrong approach.
"I was wondering… If you would like to dine with me tonight. I have some questions… On the new incantations the other clerics have written."
Redcloak turned. What in the name of the dark one is he playing at? he thought. But, all he had scheduled for that night was a few hours of meditation and hoping that life would get more interesting.
"Very well then, Jirix. But I do expect to see an outstanding new report on the progress of the new clerics training."
"Thank you sir."
Redcloak said nothing, and merely returned to his charts. Meanwhile, Jirix walked out feeling considerably more hopeful than when he arrived.

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