Bugs in the Chronicle

Blaedy reported that last night’s chronicle has grown a collection of little bugs, each requiring personal eviction before the thing can be finished. At least the fighting route was properly exercised, which is more than can be said for most plans before someone puts boots on them.

Arrowyy offered help at once, which was decent of him and suspiciously prompt. Summoneyy wanted assurance the finished chronicle would endure forever. Blaedy thought it should, after another day or two of persuading its attendant charm to survive the ages, but declined the costly privilege of testing it early. Sensible. Even immortality can wait for a fair price.