“Mindless cretins!” Theron cried. “Lumbering, procrastinating, illiterate oafs!” The fat wizard fumed. A whole day had been wasted. A whole blasted day! A bloody entire day had come and gone as the Winter Equinox alluded to in Straton’s blasted poems crept ever closer. And what had they to show for? Admittedly that ring was a rare find and surely still held secrets waiting to be uncovered. But was it worth wasting all those hours of daytime? And how come none of his companions was apparently able to plot a course through this meandering wilderness? They kept blundering into animals and beast best kept alone. They kept wasting precious time that should be spent tracking down Baelor’s treasure instead of fighting the local wildlife. “Fools! Incompetent fools!” Their sole use was beating enemies in the ground and even that they only accomplished at a reasonable rate with his magical aid. But somehow they seemed to think that they had the mental capacity to plot their next move. Theron could not help but smile wryly at that preposterous thought.
Very well, he supposed he had to discipline them as one does wayward children. Perhaps he could make an example of that irksome anti-paladin? Lets see to what he amounted if he had to resort to his fairy tale god. In the mean time he could perhaps write some magical scrolls. That ever he would live to see the day that a wizard went to bed with some of his spells unspent, Theron thought bemusedly.