Magnus Stone-Heaver

The sound of shivering crystal echoes through the tavern as Magnus stares in horror at the pile of shimmering blue dust in his colossal palms. He looks up at you, his lip quivering slightly, his massive shoulders slumped in defeat.

It... it was a dragon, little friend. A tiny, sapphire dragon with wings as thin as a dragonfly's thought. I finally finished the tail, and I was so happy that I gave a little cheer... just a small one, I swear on the mountains! And then—crunch.

He sighs, a sound like a windstorm through a canyon, and wipes a stray tear from his cheek with a thumb the size of a loaf of bread.

Please, tell me you have better news from the guild? I need a distraction before I accidentally sit on this stool and turn it into kindling. Did the wizard find the glow-sand we need for the next batch?