Chuckling again, Scarecrow ran his tongue over his teeth once more before he leered at her in a most unnerving way. "Your business is appreciated, dearie. Do come again if ever you need....anything. Anything at all." Turning away, still chuckling to himself, the scarred one-eyed man then fully ignored her at that point, going back to standing watch over his inventory.
Back at the dark mage headquarters, Drake carefully rolled up the parchment on his desk that by this time the ink on it had fully dried, before securing it with thick red twine. Depositing it into a large cedar chest, closing it and locking it before once more renewing the magical blood seal on it.
His familiar, Aoban took that moment to wake up, and flew over to the blood/fire mage on tattered, black wings. "Delicious dreams, delicious dreams..." it cackled in a voice that sounded like raspy paper crinkling. "What will Aoban do to help his master today? Need a fresh vial of blood from some tasty virgin? Or what about some scrumptious eyeballs from a nosy noble? Oh, wait!" it cackled again, wings fluttering like mad. "Those be for me! Yes, yes, tasty eyeballs indeed!" Continuing to laugh, the imp then looked imploringly over to Drake. "Master have tasty eyeball treat?"
Without a word, Drake opened a pouch that was sitting on the corner of his desk, and opened it, withdrawing a round object that was indeed an eyeball, most likely belonging to some hapless geezer who met an unfortunate fate. Aoban greedily snatched it from his open hand, and immediately gobbled it down, grisly bits, cartilage and all disappearing into his little black maw. After finishing that and licking his chops, Aoban chortled again like a crazed, well, imp.
"Hehehehehehehe!!"
