#meligaster

Seltyiel: You sick?

Meligaster: No, he just doesn't like me.

Not to toot my own horn, but ...I fucking killed it on this cover. Is it the greatest drawing in the world? No.  But when I look at this, I see the kind of drawing I used to wish I could do when I was a kid. There's a lot of Neal Adams in that monster, I think. 

The young halfling soon found that he possessed a natural charm and wit that engendered an especial affection in his "hosts," and even the elder generation of Maskelynes doted on him and offered him special privileges. At night, when the children went to bed and Meligaster returned to the "Sliphouse," a ramshackle garrison for the family's halfling servants, he regaled his fellow laborers with news of the goings on in the manor home. He wove vivid tales of rooms festooned with fine framed paintings, of beautiful bronze baroques depicting the gods of Old Azlant, and chambers lined with bookshelves holding the accumulated knowledge of centuries. At first, Meligaster's fellow slaves resented him for the better treatment afforded by the nobles of the house, but here again the halfling discovered that his charm, humor, and personal charisma were enough to get even the most hostile audiences on his side.