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Retrait gratuit dans votre magasin Club
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Payer en toute sécurité
Toujours un magasin près de chez vous

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I really don't mind when Lilly tells me what to do. . .

But when the orders are coming from inside my own head, that's a little different.

For years, people have wondered where I got my magic Gun. It's a unique weapon and one I'm not willing to give up. At least not yet.

I've been hesitant to tell the story, to be honest. When you start talking about a mysterious voice that only you can hear, folks look at you funny. And when that voice is compelling you to go in certain directions and do certain things, that just makes it even worse.

Even as a young Nuisance Man, I'd seen my share of weirdness in Capital City. But I still wasn't prepared for reality-shifting talking dogs, being cast as a fairy-tale noble for a little girl's birthday party, or a giant orc, who seemed to take making my life miserable as a sacred duty.

The voice wasn't all bad, though. It got rid of my hangover once. . . when it needed to me to do something, of course.

And it even helped me avenge an innocent old man's murder.

One more round of ale for the road. Actually, this is kind of a long story. You might want to make it three. It's worth your time, I promise.