Faith in Undermountain - I
Disclaimer: Faith belongs to Whedon, Halaster to WotC (or TSR?).
“I have done it! They don’t believe it, but I have done it!” laughed Halaster Blackcloak, also known as the Mad Mage. “I have finally done it! I am the greatest!”
In truth to say, the cause behind reason why Halaster was acting so erratically lately was actually not very impressive looking – a sort of a rectangular metal box with all sorts of spikes and spirals sprouting out of it, which occasionally flickered with purplish eldritch flame that occasionally changed its’ color to blue – but Halaster simply ignored that fact. “Now where’s baboon blood?” he muttered, “it must be the baboon blood, or it just won’t work!”
Halaster found the baboon blood soon enough. It was cooling-off in a tall, once-fine but now worn-down goblet. Halaster used to use this goblet as a storing space for dragon marrow and giant skin, he used to drink elven wines from it – and never washed it. Thus, the baboon’s blood has been somewhat diluted by other substances – but Halaster never cared. Rather, he jubilantly took the goblet and poured its contents over the box, whose eldritch flames had just flickered blue – and the whole thing just exploded in a thundercloud of steam – enough to satisfy even a steam mephit. Yet, when steam gone, no mephit stood there, but rather a young woman, and she was lying as opposing to standing.
“Yes! It worked!” Halaster yelled louder than ever.
“Ah, I guess it had,” the girl agreed wearily. “Ah, my name is Faith. I am a Slayer… and who are you?”
In reply there was just some more positively insane laughter. Faith just closed her eyes and groaned.