Mog: “What truly is fire? The divine blessing stolen by Prometheus? Concentrated Phlogiston? The element of change? Is it not madness to seek to create something we don’t even have a good definition of?”
Grog: “Grog rubs two sticks together” Lowers voice and looks around furtively “really hard.”
Grog: “Grog rubs two sticks together” Lowers voice and looks around furtively “really hard.”