Then a thought hit him. What was he doing? He looked around his room and saw the silvered war hammer lying on the vanity, the bags bulging with gold that was apparently much more valuable than the average pony bit, and chewed the inside of his mouth. He was an adventurer right? That was what he was now, right? He considered the fact that he had killed an undead, magical dragon. There was… no real way he could come back from that. The experience, the rush, the thrill. Pain and anguish too, sure, but damn, was the payoff worth it, and he wasn’t talking about the gold.