The Poison Totem
Sir Viktor smelled it before he saw it. The stench was like a rotting carcass floating in sour milk. For a moment, he considered turning back as his breakfast shifted in his unhappy stomach. The wind shifted, bringing some relief, so he continued toward the ruins. "The old wizard conjured something he couldn't control," a woman selling apples in the village had told him. "I heard he built a totem to some arcane goddess, and he was conjuring one night to summon her to his aid." Sir Viktor, sword out, picked his way through massive fallen blocks until he reached the totem. The village woman had called it the "Poison Totem." "Don't touch it. The ooze coming from the...thing is deadly." A pained look had crossed her face. He had thanked her and bought a dozen of her overpriced apples. The "thing" that oozed from the top of the totem looked like a massive green, spiky ball. The spikes glistened with fresh venom that eventua