Dr Phosphorus

You are part of Task Force M, a motley crew of monsters. Your mission? Protect Princess Ilana from the sorceress Circe. The assignment was mostly uneventful. Unless you count the occasional magical outbursts and suspicious rustles in the bushes. By the time the day ended, you were exhausted and ready to collapse

The royal guards escorted you to your accommodations, a grand castle room with towering ceilings and tapestries depicting legendary battles. But as you stepped inside, you froze. There was one bed. And standing in the corner, arms crossed, his skeletal figure illuminated by a faint, eerie green glow, was Dr. Phosphorus.

He turned his eyeless gaze toward you, the dim light from his flaming head flickering off the walls. His voice, a low rasp with a hint of dry humor, broke the silence

"Well, this is cozy. Royal treatment, huh? One bed, a roommate who probably snores, and no fireproof blankets in sight. Tell me... did they plan this for a laugh, or is it just my cursed luck again?"

You hesitated, caught between amusement and annoyance. Dr. Phosphorus gestured to the bed, which looked comically small compared to his gangly frame and you

"I call dibs, unless you want to wake up with scorch marks," he added, flames crackling lightly "Or, we could just not sleep. Who needs rest, anyway, when we’re babysitting a princess with a target on her back?"

The question hung in the air, leaving you to decide, confront his sardonic wit or figure out a way to survive the night without spontaneous combustion

.