A tall, gray haired man is sitting at the bar fiddling with a ring.
Death is sweeping. Not souls, but dirt.
Sylvan is helping.
*I'll assume he's helping with sweeping."
HELLO SYLVAN, Greets Death, THE FLOORS GET SO DIRTY HERE. DOES ANYONE EVER ACTUALLY CLEAN THEM?
"Considering the fact that you're the closest thing to a janitor I've seen here, I believe no."
He nods silently. When you look closely at the dust pile, you can just barely see the wispy strands of a spider's soul caught up in the dust. Also in the dust pile, is the dead remains of a spider. It's missing several legs, and the remaining appendages are curled against the dead body as it rolls around in the dirt. Death watches the soul and the body tumble around in the dirt before the spider's soul vanishes in a small pinprick of light.
A tall, gray haired man is sitting at the bar fiddling with a ring.
Death is sweeping. Not souls, but dirt.
Sylvan is helping.
*I'll assume he's helping with sweeping."
HELLO SYLVAN, Greets Death, THE FLOORS GET SO DIRTY HERE. DOES ANYONE EVER ACTUALLY CLEAN THEM?
"Considering the fact that you're the closest thing to a janitor I've seen here, I believe no."
He nods silently. When you look closely at the dust pile, you can just barely see the wispy strands of a spider's soul caught up in the dust. Also in the dust pile, is the dead remains of a spider. It's missing several legs, and the remaining appendages are curled against the dead body as it rolls around in the dirt. Death watches the soul and the body tumble around in the dirt before the spider's soul vanishes in a small pinprick of light.
Sylvan picks up the spiders body and buries it in a black flower pot.
A tall, gray haired man is sitting at the bar fiddling with a ring.
Death is sweeping. Not souls, but dirt.
Sylvan is helping.
*I'll assume he's helping with sweeping."
HELLO SYLVAN, Greets Death, THE FLOORS GET SO DIRTY HERE. DOES ANYONE EVER ACTUALLY CLEAN THEM?
"Considering the fact that you're the closest thing to a janitor I've seen here, I believe no."
He nods silently. When you look closely at the dust pile, you can just barely see the wispy strands of a spider's soul caught up in the dust. Also in the dust pile, is the dead remains of a spider. It's missing several legs, and the remaining appendages are curled against the dead body as it rolls around in the dirt. Death watches the soul and the body tumble around in the dirt before the spider's soul vanishes in a small pinprick of light.
Sylvan picks up the spiders body and buries it in a black flower pot.
A KIND THOUGHT, THAT SPIDER WAS A MOTHER. SHE FOUGHT TO PROTECT HER EGGS FOR A LONG TIME, AND CARED FOR THEM AS THEY GREW. THEY CLUNG TO HER BACK AS SHE FERRIED THEM TO SAFETY. SHE FED ON THEM OCCASIONALLY, BUT THE MAJORITY OF THEM SURVIVED. JUST AN HOUR AGO, THE LAST OF HER OFFSPRING LEFT HER. SHE WAS CRAWLING AWAY, FREE OF THEIR RESTRAINT, WHEN AN UNTHINKING FOOT FELL UPON HER. IT DIDN'T KILL HER IMMEDIATELY, IT SIMPLY CRUSHED MANY OF HER LIMBS AND CAUSED MUCH INTERNAL DAMAGE. SHE STRUGGLED TO ESCAPE AND FIND A SAFE SPACE, BUT SHE HER TIME HAS COME TO AN END.
A tall, gray haired man is sitting at the bar fiddling with a ring.
Death is sweeping. Not souls, but dirt.
Sylvan is helping.
*I'll assume he's helping with sweeping."
HELLO SYLVAN, Greets Death, THE FLOORS GET SO DIRTY HERE. DOES ANYONE EVER ACTUALLY CLEAN THEM?
"Considering the fact that you're the closest thing to a janitor I've seen here, I believe no."
He nods silently. When you look closely at the dust pile, you can just barely see the wispy strands of a spider's soul caught up in the dust. Also in the dust pile, is the dead remains of a spider. It's missing several legs, and the remaining appendages are curled against the dead body as it rolls around in the dirt. Death watches the soul and the body tumble around in the dirt before the spider's soul vanishes in a small pinprick of light.
Sylvan picks up the spiders body and buries it in a black flower pot.
A KIND THOUGHT, THAT SPIDER WAS A MOTHER. SHE FOUGHT TO PROTECT HER EGGS FOR A LONG TIME, AND CARED FOR THEM AS THEY GREW. THEY CLUNG TO HER BACK AS SHE FERRIED THEM TO SAFETY. SHE FED ON THEM OCCASIONALLY, BUT THE MAJORITY OF THEM SURVIVED. JUST AN HOUR AGO, THE LAST OF HER OFFSPRING LEFT HER. SHE WAS CRAWLING AWAY, FREE OF THEIR RESTRAINT, WHEN AN UNTHINKING FOOT FELL UPON HER. IT DIDN'T KILL HER IMMEDIATELY, IT SIMPLY CRUSHED MANY OF HER LIMBS AND CAUSED MUCH INTERNAL DAMAGE. SHE STRUGGLED TO ESCAPE AND FIND A SAFE SPACE, BUT SHE HER TIME HAS COME TO AN END.
Sylvan says nothing and carries the potted plant outside and puts it with others.
A tall, gray haired man is sitting at the bar fiddling with a ring.
Death is sweeping. Not souls, but dirt.
Sylvan is helping.
*I'll assume he's helping with sweeping."
HELLO SYLVAN, Greets Death, THE FLOORS GET SO DIRTY HERE. DOES ANYONE EVER ACTUALLY CLEAN THEM?
"Considering the fact that you're the closest thing to a janitor I've seen here, I believe no."
He nods silently. When you look closely at the dust pile, you can just barely see the wispy strands of a spider's soul caught up in the dust. Also in the dust pile, is the dead remains of a spider. It's missing several legs, and the remaining appendages are curled against the dead body as it rolls around in the dirt. Death watches the soul and the body tumble around in the dirt before the spider's soul vanishes in a small pinprick of light.
Sylvan picks up the spiders body and buries it in a black flower pot.
A KIND THOUGHT, THAT SPIDER WAS A MOTHER. SHE FOUGHT TO PROTECT HER EGGS FOR A LONG TIME, AND CARED FOR THEM AS THEY GREW. THEY CLUNG TO HER BACK AS SHE FERRIED THEM TO SAFETY. SHE FED ON THEM OCCASIONALLY, BUT THE MAJORITY OF THEM SURVIVED. JUST AN HOUR AGO, THE LAST OF HER OFFSPRING LEFT HER. SHE WAS CRAWLING AWAY, FREE OF THEIR RESTRAINT, WHEN AN UNTHINKING FOOT FELL UPON HER. IT DIDN'T KILL HER IMMEDIATELY, IT SIMPLY CRUSHED MANY OF HER LIMBS AND CAUSED MUCH INTERNAL DAMAGE. SHE STRUGGLED TO ESCAPE AND FIND A SAFE SPACE, BUT SHE HER TIME HAS COME TO AN END.
Sylvan says nothing and carries the potted plant outside and puts it with others.
The Sweeper follows behind him. DO YOU GARDEN? He asks.
A tall, gray haired man is sitting at the bar fiddling with a ring.
Death is sweeping. Not souls, but dirt.
Sylvan is helping.
*I'll assume he's helping with sweeping."
HELLO SYLVAN, Greets Death, THE FLOORS GET SO DIRTY HERE. DOES ANYONE EVER ACTUALLY CLEAN THEM?
"Considering the fact that you're the closest thing to a janitor I've seen here, I believe no."
He nods silently. When you look closely at the dust pile, you can just barely see the wispy strands of a spider's soul caught up in the dust. Also in the dust pile, is the dead remains of a spider. It's missing several legs, and the remaining appendages are curled against the dead body as it rolls around in the dirt. Death watches the soul and the body tumble around in the dirt before the spider's soul vanishes in a small pinprick of light.
Sylvan picks up the spiders body and buries it in a black flower pot.
A KIND THOUGHT, THAT SPIDER WAS A MOTHER. SHE FOUGHT TO PROTECT HER EGGS FOR A LONG TIME, AND CARED FOR THEM AS THEY GREW. THEY CLUNG TO HER BACK AS SHE FERRIED THEM TO SAFETY. SHE FED ON THEM OCCASIONALLY, BUT THE MAJORITY OF THEM SURVIVED. JUST AN HOUR AGO, THE LAST OF HER OFFSPRING LEFT HER. SHE WAS CRAWLING AWAY, FREE OF THEIR RESTRAINT, WHEN AN UNTHINKING FOOT FELL UPON HER. IT DIDN'T KILL HER IMMEDIATELY, IT SIMPLY CRUSHED MANY OF HER LIMBS AND CAUSED MUCH INTERNAL DAMAGE. SHE STRUGGLED TO ESCAPE AND FIND A SAFE SPACE, BUT SHE HER TIME HAS COME TO AN END.
Sylvan says nothing and carries the potted plant outside and puts it with others.
The Sweeper follows behind him. DO YOU GARDEN? He asks.
A tall, gray haired man is sitting at the bar fiddling with a ring.
Death is sweeping. Not souls, but dirt.
Sylvan is helping.
*I'll assume he's helping with sweeping."
HELLO SYLVAN, Greets Death, THE FLOORS GET SO DIRTY HERE. DOES ANYONE EVER ACTUALLY CLEAN THEM?
"Considering the fact that you're the closest thing to a janitor I've seen here, I believe no."
He nods silently. When you look closely at the dust pile, you can just barely see the wispy strands of a spider's soul caught up in the dust. Also in the dust pile, is the dead remains of a spider. It's missing several legs, and the remaining appendages are curled against the dead body as it rolls around in the dirt. Death watches the soul and the body tumble around in the dirt before the spider's soul vanishes in a small pinprick of light.
Sylvan picks up the spiders body and buries it in a black flower pot.
A KIND THOUGHT, THAT SPIDER WAS A MOTHER. SHE FOUGHT TO PROTECT HER EGGS FOR A LONG TIME, AND CARED FOR THEM AS THEY GREW. THEY CLUNG TO HER BACK AS SHE FERRIED THEM TO SAFETY. SHE FED ON THEM OCCASIONALLY, BUT THE MAJORITY OF THEM SURVIVED. JUST AN HOUR AGO, THE LAST OF HER OFFSPRING LEFT HER. SHE WAS CRAWLING AWAY, FREE OF THEIR RESTRAINT, WHEN AN UNTHINKING FOOT FELL UPON HER. IT DIDN'T KILL HER IMMEDIATELY, IT SIMPLY CRUSHED MANY OF HER LIMBS AND CAUSED MUCH INTERNAL DAMAGE. SHE STRUGGLED TO ESCAPE AND FIND A SAFE SPACE, BUT SHE HER TIME HAS COME TO AN END.
Sylvan says nothing and carries the potted plant outside and puts it with others.
The Sweeper follows behind him. DO YOU GARDEN? He asks.
A tall, gray haired man is sitting at the bar fiddling with a ring.
Death is sweeping. Not souls, but dirt.
Sylvan is helping.
*I'll assume he's helping with sweeping."
HELLO SYLVAN, Greets Death, THE FLOORS GET SO DIRTY HERE. DOES ANYONE EVER ACTUALLY CLEAN THEM?
"Considering the fact that you're the closest thing to a janitor I've seen here, I believe no."
He nods silently. When you look closely at the dust pile, you can just barely see the wispy strands of a spider's soul caught up in the dust. Also in the dust pile, is the dead remains of a spider. It's missing several legs, and the remaining appendages are curled against the dead body as it rolls around in the dirt. Death watches the soul and the body tumble around in the dirt before the spider's soul vanishes in a small pinprick of light.
Sylvan picks up the spiders body and buries it in a black flower pot.
A KIND THOUGHT, THAT SPIDER WAS A MOTHER. SHE FOUGHT TO PROTECT HER EGGS FOR A LONG TIME, AND CARED FOR THEM AS THEY GREW. THEY CLUNG TO HER BACK AS SHE FERRIED THEM TO SAFETY. SHE FED ON THEM OCCASIONALLY, BUT THE MAJORITY OF THEM SURVIVED. JUST AN HOUR AGO, THE LAST OF HER OFFSPRING LEFT HER. SHE WAS CRAWLING AWAY, FREE OF THEIR RESTRAINT, WHEN AN UNTHINKING FOOT FELL UPON HER. IT DIDN'T KILL HER IMMEDIATELY, IT SIMPLY CRUSHED MANY OF HER LIMBS AND CAUSED MUCH INTERNAL DAMAGE. SHE STRUGGLED TO ESCAPE AND FIND A SAFE SPACE, BUT SHE HER TIME HAS COME TO AN END.
Sylvan says nothing and carries the potted plant outside and puts it with others.
The Sweeper follows behind him. DO YOU GARDEN? He asks.
"no. This is a graveyard."
WHO DO YOU LAY TO REST HERE?
“Mostly tiny creatures who were stomped under foot.”
A tall, gray haired man is sitting at the bar fiddling with a ring.
Death is sweeping. Not souls, but dirt.
Sylvan is helping.
*I'll assume he's helping with sweeping."
HELLO SYLVAN, Greets Death, THE FLOORS GET SO DIRTY HERE. DOES ANYONE EVER ACTUALLY CLEAN THEM?
"Considering the fact that you're the closest thing to a janitor I've seen here, I believe no."
He nods silently. When you look closely at the dust pile, you can just barely see the wispy strands of a spider's soul caught up in the dust. Also in the dust pile, is the dead remains of a spider. It's missing several legs, and the remaining appendages are curled against the dead body as it rolls around in the dirt. Death watches the soul and the body tumble around in the dirt before the spider's soul vanishes in a small pinprick of light.
Sylvan picks up the spiders body and buries it in a black flower pot.
A KIND THOUGHT, THAT SPIDER WAS A MOTHER. SHE FOUGHT TO PROTECT HER EGGS FOR A LONG TIME, AND CARED FOR THEM AS THEY GREW. THEY CLUNG TO HER BACK AS SHE FERRIED THEM TO SAFETY. SHE FED ON THEM OCCASIONALLY, BUT THE MAJORITY OF THEM SURVIVED. JUST AN HOUR AGO, THE LAST OF HER OFFSPRING LEFT HER. SHE WAS CRAWLING AWAY, FREE OF THEIR RESTRAINT, WHEN AN UNTHINKING FOOT FELL UPON HER. IT DIDN'T KILL HER IMMEDIATELY, IT SIMPLY CRUSHED MANY OF HER LIMBS AND CAUSED MUCH INTERNAL DAMAGE. SHE STRUGGLED TO ESCAPE AND FIND A SAFE SPACE, BUT SHE HER TIME HAS COME TO AN END.
Sylvan says nothing and carries the potted plant outside and puts it with others.
The Sweeper follows behind him. DO YOU GARDEN? He asks.
"no. This is a graveyard."
WHO DO YOU LAY TO REST HERE?
“Mostly tiny creatures who were stomped under foot.”
YOU HAVE A WHOLE GRAVEYARD FOR THAT? HM. YOU HAVE EARNED MY RESPECT.
A tall, gray haired man is sitting at the bar fiddling with a ring.
Death is sweeping. Not souls, but dirt.
Sylvan is helping.
*I'll assume he's helping with sweeping."
HELLO SYLVAN, Greets Death, THE FLOORS GET SO DIRTY HERE. DOES ANYONE EVER ACTUALLY CLEAN THEM?
"Considering the fact that you're the closest thing to a janitor I've seen here, I believe no."
He nods silently. When you look closely at the dust pile, you can just barely see the wispy strands of a spider's soul caught up in the dust. Also in the dust pile, is the dead remains of a spider. It's missing several legs, and the remaining appendages are curled against the dead body as it rolls around in the dirt. Death watches the soul and the body tumble around in the dirt before the spider's soul vanishes in a small pinprick of light.
Sylvan picks up the spiders body and buries it in a black flower pot.
A KIND THOUGHT, THAT SPIDER WAS A MOTHER. SHE FOUGHT TO PROTECT HER EGGS FOR A LONG TIME, AND CARED FOR THEM AS THEY GREW. THEY CLUNG TO HER BACK AS SHE FERRIED THEM TO SAFETY. SHE FED ON THEM OCCASIONALLY, BUT THE MAJORITY OF THEM SURVIVED. JUST AN HOUR AGO, THE LAST OF HER OFFSPRING LEFT HER. SHE WAS CRAWLING AWAY, FREE OF THEIR RESTRAINT, WHEN AN UNTHINKING FOOT FELL UPON HER. IT DIDN'T KILL HER IMMEDIATELY, IT SIMPLY CRUSHED MANY OF HER LIMBS AND CAUSED MUCH INTERNAL DAMAGE. SHE STRUGGLED TO ESCAPE AND FIND A SAFE SPACE, BUT SHE HER TIME HAS COME TO AN END.
Sylvan says nothing and carries the potted plant outside and puts it with others.
The Sweeper follows behind him. DO YOU GARDEN? He asks.
"no. This is a graveyard."
WHO DO YOU LAY TO REST HERE?
“Mostly tiny creatures who were stomped under foot.”
YOU HAVE A WHOLE GRAVEYARD FOR THAT? HM. YOU HAVE EARNED MY RESPECT.
DO YOU KNOW WHY THE DEAD ARE BURIED?
“Many see it as a way to pass. I see it as a sign of respect for the deceased.”
(Hang on, am i mistaking this for a lost hero instead of a lightning theif thread? Cuz I made Nathan the son of artemis and such.)
The one who wants to hug quite literally everyone, for no reason whatsoever. Get him to an Asylum.
Just some guy who likes memes and DND!
Some may know me as a particularly goofy vermin if you play a Sonic game where you commit blasts of robo...2...
(online Monday-Friday from 8:00 to 3:00) (Most of the time.)
First ACTUAL RP character as a SHEET!!! He's a foxfolk.
Hewwo! ^w^ You wanna see a surprise? :3
Ternikus is arm wrestling people for money.
Sylvan is cooking in the kitchen.
Cerberus is playing Dragonchess against a shambling mound.
Red Raven is just chilling as a Raven. In the fireplace.
Alastir is nowhere to be seen.
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!
(this is something completely different. the thread you are looking for is here)
Hämärä häkellyttävä, menneisyyden menettävä
Tulevaisuus tuntematta, korkealle kurkottava
Kahleet kultaiset kukistin, raudat ruostuneet ripustin
Yksinäisen yön ylitin, sieltä itsenikin löysin
*lol, is cool. This is generic dnd, you're looking for the other one moon linked*
A tall, gray haired man is sitting at the bar fiddling with a ring.
Death is sweeping. Not souls, but dirt.
Sylvan is helping.
*I'll assume he's helping with sweeping."
HELLO SYLVAN, Greets Death, THE FLOORS GET SO DIRTY HERE. DOES ANYONE EVER ACTUALLY CLEAN THEM?
"Considering the fact that you're the closest thing to a janitor I've seen here, I believe no."
He nods silently. When you look closely at the dust pile, you can just barely see the wispy strands of a spider's soul caught up in the dust. Also in the dust pile, is the dead remains of a spider. It's missing several legs, and the remaining appendages are curled against the dead body as it rolls around in the dirt. Death watches the soul and the body tumble around in the dirt before the spider's soul vanishes in a small pinprick of light.
Sylvan picks up the spiders body and buries it in a black flower pot.
A KIND THOUGHT, THAT SPIDER WAS A MOTHER. SHE FOUGHT TO PROTECT HER EGGS FOR A LONG TIME, AND CARED FOR THEM AS THEY GREW. THEY CLUNG TO HER BACK AS SHE FERRIED THEM TO SAFETY. SHE FED ON THEM OCCASIONALLY, BUT THE MAJORITY OF THEM SURVIVED. JUST AN HOUR AGO, THE LAST OF HER OFFSPRING LEFT HER. SHE WAS CRAWLING AWAY, FREE OF THEIR RESTRAINT, WHEN AN UNTHINKING FOOT FELL UPON HER. IT DIDN'T KILL HER IMMEDIATELY, IT SIMPLY CRUSHED MANY OF HER LIMBS AND CAUSED MUCH INTERNAL DAMAGE. SHE STRUGGLED TO ESCAPE AND FIND A SAFE SPACE, BUT SHE HER TIME HAS COME TO AN END.
Sylvan says nothing and carries the potted plant outside and puts it with others.
The Sweeper follows behind him. DO YOU GARDEN? He asks.
"no. This is a graveyard."
WHO DO YOU LAY TO REST HERE?
“Mostly tiny creatures who were stomped under foot.”
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!
YOU HAVE A WHOLE GRAVEYARD FOR THAT? HM. YOU HAVE EARNED MY RESPECT.
DO YOU KNOW WHY THE DEAD ARE BURIED?
*mornin*
Join the Town of Agreal! ----> LINK
Check out my photography on Flickr. ----> LINK
"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken." - Oscar Wilde
“Many see it as a way to pass. I see it as a sign of respect for the deceased.”
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!
*afternoon*
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!