With the gassy bird-brain out of the way and a map acquired – if this thing could even be called a map – Victor was primed and ready to begin his mission. As appealing as it was to write with one of the nutty professor’s butt feathers, he’d made the executive decision to swap it out for a quill of his own, and with it and his supplies tucked neatly into his rucksack, it was time to make a move.
Of course, in the interest of whatever loot could’ve been lurking in the caves, he wasn’t going to rely on the strength of one man alone.
“
You sure we’ll find anything in this hovel?” Sven looked about as sceptical as one could get, and as lightly prepared as ever. It was his belief that he had no need to carry any goods that could weigh him down. If he had his blade, he was plenty prepared for whatever they could face. “
Seems a wild goose chase to me.”
“
Something like that,” Victor answered with a wince, recalling the Skyllard’s trumpeting, in more than one sense of the word. “
Hey, it’s worth a shot. Got nothin’ better going on.”