Het doosje met alles

The paladin droned on about crusading and wickedness as Nokil cleaned the ruby. The body beneath him shifted uncomfortable and he sighed.

“Armor,” he mumbled. The knight stammered and then started shouting. Nokil glanced up at the man.

Too bad, he thought.

The knight’s helmet twisted violently to the left, the body lurching behind it before landing in the dust. Nokil sighed deeply, stood, walked to his home, threw the ruby on the pile next to his kitchen and made the twenty-first marking on the wall. All adventurers.

He’d been here less than a year. He thought about moving again.