"About owning a dragon," Caleb said, clearly more than a little confused why nobody seemed to see this was strange.

But Jim did a good of distracting him with that magic missile focus. Despite the pain, he stepped forward, letting the other man guide him through the house. It was expansive, luxurious, and Caleb couldn't help feeling like it smacked of wealth--though he was quite certain that was a perspective from home, and not actually reflexive of the house itself, probably.

"They were reluctant to let me out after the first," he said. "I kept getting thrown back in. And I have...limited access to the materials I need to keep defending myself. So I might as well."

It wasn't the worst. It was terrible, but it wasn't the worst. "Makes me miss a cleric, certainly."