As it appeared in a flash of camera lights like a paparazzi firefly show, it now stood out in front of the tavern. Thirteen feet tall and a few inches, it knew it damn couldn't open the door to the tavern and gracefully walk into it. It raised a gloved hand as the doorway seemed to stretch, opening to fit its size before shrinking once again when it got inside. The reality seemed to warp around it, making sure it didn't bump its head on the ceiling, after all.. it did just get its hair done.
It looked like a man, well if you could look past the thirteen foot stature. Fair skin like the color of diced almonds, slicked back black hair kept somehow kept together without gel of any kind, glittering eyes that seem to change color from red to green and then green to blue and back. It wears a completely black suit with a matching tie, cufflinks, and leather shoes. Its gloved hands seem to be elongated almost, with claw-like fingernails.
It sits down at a table that seems to accommodate its size and crosses a leg over its knee. Its smile never seems to leave its face, an actor's smile, never wavering. Somehow, one of the waiters stops aiding some folk, leaving mid-conversation and turning to assist the man. The waiter brings back a cup of coffee and bows to it before their head suddenly shakes, suddenly snapping out of their daze.
Leo looks at the man from his table, eyebrow raised as he tinkers with some gears.
Leo, being a son of a god, can tell this to is a god. The New God of Entertainment, the one who ushered forth television and video.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Gods please don't let him be like Apollo...that's all I ask.." he mumbles.
"I can hear you son." He said, sipping his coffee. His eyes seem to glow red and then turn yellow.
They cross through some trees, skeletons marking his territory. They see a few villagers with spears and torches walking around. Their torches flicker, dimming slowly.
The villagers feel an intense cold slowly filling the air as the water within solidifies into a mist. The shadowy Wendigo circles the group of villagers.
They are on high alert, torches raised high. The creature stalks before lunging and snatching one up, silencing it screams with a bite to its head.
Another is grabbed through the mist, gone without a trace, the only tell what caused their disappearance being a sickening crunch that fills the air.
The creature screeches a bloodcurdling scream, grabbing another and ripping its stomach open.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
As it appeared in a flash of camera lights like a paparazzi firefly show, it now stood out in front of the tavern. Thirteen feet tall and a few inches, it knew it damn couldn't open the door to the tavern and gracefully walk into it. It raised a gloved hand as the doorway seemed to stretch, opening to fit its size before shrinking once again when it got inside. The reality seemed to warp around it, making sure it didn't bump its head on the ceiling, after all.. it did just get its hair done.
It looked like a man, well if you could look past the thirteen foot stature. Fair skin like the color of diced almonds, slicked back black hair kept somehow kept together without gel of any kind, glittering eyes that seem to change color from red to green and then green to blue and back. It wears a completely black suit with a matching tie, cufflinks, and leather shoes. Its gloved hands seem to be elongated almost, with claw-like fingernails.
It sits down at a table that seems to accommodate its size and crosses a leg over its knee. Its smile never seems to leave its face, an actor's smile, never wavering. Somehow, one of the waiters stops aiding some folk, leaving mid-conversation and turning to assist the man. The waiter brings back a cup of coffee and bows to it before their head suddenly shakes, suddenly snapping out of their daze.
Leo looks at the man from his table, eyebrow raised as he tinkers with some gears.
Leo, being a son of a god, can tell this to is a god. The New God of Entertainment, the one who ushered forth television and video.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Gods please don't let him be like Apollo...that's all I ask.." he mumbles.
"I can hear you son." He said, sipping his coffee. His eyes seem to glow red and then turn yellow.
"Course you can." he grumbles, tinkering with a mechanical hawk.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
As it appeared in a flash of camera lights like a paparazzi firefly show, it now stood out in front of the tavern. Thirteen feet tall and a few inches, it knew it damn couldn't open the door to the tavern and gracefully walk into it. It raised a gloved hand as the doorway seemed to stretch, opening to fit its size before shrinking once again when it got inside. The reality seemed to warp around it, making sure it didn't bump its head on the ceiling, after all.. it did just get its hair done.
It looked like a man, well if you could look past the thirteen foot stature. Fair skin like the color of diced almonds, slicked back black hair kept somehow kept together without gel of any kind, glittering eyes that seem to change color from red to green and then green to blue and back. It wears a completely black suit with a matching tie, cufflinks, and leather shoes. Its gloved hands seem to be elongated almost, with claw-like fingernails.
It sits down at a table that seems to accommodate its size and crosses a leg over its knee. Its smile never seems to leave its face, an actor's smile, never wavering. Somehow, one of the waiters stops aiding some folk, leaving mid-conversation and turning to assist the man. The waiter brings back a cup of coffee and bows to it before their head suddenly shakes, suddenly snapping out of their daze.
Leo looks at the man from his table, eyebrow raised as he tinkers with some gears.
Leo, being a son of a god, can tell this to is a god. The New God of Entertainment, the one who ushered forth television and video.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Gods please don't let him be like Apollo...that's all I ask.." he mumbles.
"I can hear you son." He said, sipping his coffee. His eyes seem to glow red and then turn yellow.
"Course you can." he grumbles, tinkering with a mechanical hawk.
"Then why not say it to my face hm? Quite rude to mutter to yourself over there."
They cross through some trees, skeletons marking his territory. They see a few villagers with spears and torches walking around. Their torches flicker, dimming slowly.
The villagers feel an intense cold slowly filling the air as the water within solidifies into a mist. The shadowy Wendigo circles the group of villagers.
They are on high alert, torches raised high. The creature stalks before lunging and snatching one up, silencing it screams with a bite to its head.
Another is grabbed through the mist, gone without a trace, the only tell what caused their disappearance being a sickening crunch that fills the air.
The creature screeches a bloodcurdling scream, grabbing another and ripping its stomach open.
Another feels a claw along their back before they are quickly sliced to ribbons and disemboweled, the Wendigo feasting on their corpse.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
As it appeared in a flash of camera lights like a paparazzi firefly show, it now stood out in front of the tavern. Thirteen feet tall and a few inches, it knew it damn couldn't open the door to the tavern and gracefully walk into it. It raised a gloved hand as the doorway seemed to stretch, opening to fit its size before shrinking once again when it got inside. The reality seemed to warp around it, making sure it didn't bump its head on the ceiling, after all.. it did just get its hair done.
It looked like a man, well if you could look past the thirteen foot stature. Fair skin like the color of diced almonds, slicked back black hair kept somehow kept together without gel of any kind, glittering eyes that seem to change color from red to green and then green to blue and back. It wears a completely black suit with a matching tie, cufflinks, and leather shoes. Its gloved hands seem to be elongated almost, with claw-like fingernails.
It sits down at a table that seems to accommodate its size and crosses a leg over its knee. Its smile never seems to leave its face, an actor's smile, never wavering. Somehow, one of the waiters stops aiding some folk, leaving mid-conversation and turning to assist the man. The waiter brings back a cup of coffee and bows to it before their head suddenly shakes, suddenly snapping out of their daze.
Leo looks at the man from his table, eyebrow raised as he tinkers with some gears.
Leo, being a son of a god, can tell this to is a god. The New God of Entertainment, the one who ushered forth television and video.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Gods please don't let him be like Apollo...that's all I ask.." he mumbles.
"I can hear you son." He said, sipping his coffee. His eyes seem to glow red and then turn yellow.
"Course you can." he grumbles, tinkering with a mechanical hawk.
"Then why not say it to my face hm? Quite rude to mutter to yourself over there."
"Dont feel like moving my project." he says. "Its rather delicate."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
There is silence for a few seconds as it senses her worry- and, more specifically, who the worry is about. The rage of the thing beneath the soil grows even more in response, and Merabelle can see her own shadow twist into a new shape- that of a person in long flowing robes, with innumerable writhing tendrils around its head.
" . . . Y o u k n o w h e r . . ."
She gets from her seated position, standing up to face the shadowy beast, knowing who they are referring to from context clues "She is my daughter, and if ya think yer gonna do anythin' ta her, yer someone who ain't got any clue who I am."
The shadow grimaces back at her.
". . . S h e i s M Y c r e a t i o n , a n d I a m g o i n g t o t a k e h e r h o m e , a n d f i x h e r . . . M a k e h e r w h a t s h e w a s m e a n t t o b e . . ."
"I ain't got a second ta care who made her. She chose ta be my daughter, she's actually got some love fer me. She don't need ta be fixed by nobody, especially not some shadow covered [gp]." She says, rage spitting out into her words "How 'bout ya get the [gp] out my forest?"
The shadow smiles, knowing damn well it isn't going anywhere.
"Y o u r e a l l y d o n ' t k n o w ? . . W h a t s h e ' s c a p a b l e o f . . . W h a t s h e w i l l b e c o m e w i t h o u t m e . . . D o y o u ? . ."
"Not fer a second, an' if it's hard fer ya ta tell, I ain't gonna start carin' any day. She is my daughter, whatever she comes, I ain't gonna stop lovin' her fer half a second." She crosses her arms, "I ain't gotta let ya lay a hand on 'em."
" . . . T h e n I w i l l B R E A K Y O U F I R S T ." It hisses back at her, seething with hate. The shadows of the nearby trees twist and writhe, before seeping up from the ground as inky tendrils, ending in grasping slender hands and flailing hooks and snapping jaws of razor teeth.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
They cross through some trees, skeletons marking his territory. They see a few villagers with spears and torches walking around. Their torches flicker, dimming slowly.
The villagers feel an intense cold slowly filling the air as the water within solidifies into a mist. The shadowy Wendigo circles the group of villagers.
They are on high alert, torches raised high. The creature stalks before lunging and snatching one up, silencing it screams with a bite to its head.
Another is grabbed through the mist, gone without a trace, the only tell what caused their disappearance being a sickening crunch that fills the air.
The creature screeches a bloodcurdling scream, grabbing another and ripping its stomach open.
Another feels a claw along their back before they are quickly sliced to ribbons and disemboweled, the Wendigo feasting on their corpse.
With that they are all killed. The creature vomits up the skeletons and starts to string them up, armor and all.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
As it appeared in a flash of camera lights like a paparazzi firefly show, it now stood out in front of the tavern. Thirteen feet tall and a few inches, it knew it damn couldn't open the door to the tavern and gracefully walk into it. It raised a gloved hand as the doorway seemed to stretch, opening to fit its size before shrinking once again when it got inside. The reality seemed to warp around it, making sure it didn't bump its head on the ceiling, after all.. it did just get its hair done.
It looked like a man, well if you could look past the thirteen foot stature. Fair skin like the color of diced almonds, slicked back black hair kept somehow kept together without gel of any kind, glittering eyes that seem to change color from red to green and then green to blue and back. It wears a completely black suit with a matching tie, cufflinks, and leather shoes. Its gloved hands seem to be elongated almost, with claw-like fingernails.
It sits down at a table that seems to accommodate its size and crosses a leg over its knee. Its smile never seems to leave its face, an actor's smile, never wavering. Somehow, one of the waiters stops aiding some folk, leaving mid-conversation and turning to assist the man. The waiter brings back a cup of coffee and bows to it before their head suddenly shakes, suddenly snapping out of their daze.
Leo looks at the man from his table, eyebrow raised as he tinkers with some gears.
Leo, being a son of a god, can tell this to is a god. The New God of Entertainment, the one who ushered forth television and video.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Gods please don't let him be like Apollo...that's all I ask.." he mumbles.
"I can hear you son." He said, sipping his coffee. His eyes seem to glow red and then turn yellow.
"Course you can." he grumbles, tinkering with a mechanical hawk.
"Then why not say it to my face hm? Quite rude to mutter to yourself over there."
"Dont feel like moving my project." he says. "Its rather delicate."
" . . . T h e n I w i l l B R E A K Y O U F I R S T ." It hisses back at her, seething with hate. The shadows of the nearby trees twist and writhe, before seeping up from the ground as inky tendrils, ending in grasping slender hands and flailing hooks and snapping jaws of razor teeth.
She doesn't get scared for a moment, instead, cracking a smile on her face as she begins to mutter some words of power. Inky black covers her body as light begins to shine, Inky black wings forming as her constellations take complete form. With a snap of her fingers she casts Sunbeam right on top of them, DC 19, Damage:39
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
" . . . T h e n I w i l l B R E A K Y O U F I R S T ." It hisses back at her, seething with hate. The shadows of the nearby trees twist and writhe, before seeping up from the ground as inky tendrils, ending in grasping slender hands and flailing hooks and snapping jaws of razor teeth.
She doesn't get scared for a moment, instead, cracking a smile on her face as she begins to mutter some words of power. Inky black covers her body as light begins to shine, Inky black wings forming as her constellations take complete form. With a snap of her fingers she casts Sunbeam right on top of them, DC 19, Damage:39
Shadow's Dex save: 14
As the sunbeam hits the Seer's Shadow, it shrieks with both pain and rage, sinking back into the soil of the clearing to avoid a second attack. The flailing tendrils of darkness all lash at Merabelle with their various weapons.
Twisted Shadow 1: Attack 1: 25 to hit, 18 necrotic damage. Attack 2: 14 to hit, 17 necrotic damage. Attack 3: 25 to hit, 16 necrotic damage.
Twisted Shadow 2: Attack 1: 23 to hit, 18 necrotic damage. Attack 2: 21 to hit, 21 necrotic damage. Attack 3: 25 to hit, 10 necrotic damage.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"I can hear you son." He said, sipping his coffee. His eyes seem to glow red and then turn yellow.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
The creature screeches a bloodcurdling scream, grabbing another and ripping its stomach open.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"Course you can." he grumbles, tinkering with a mechanical hawk.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"Then why not say it to my face hm? Quite rude to mutter to yourself over there."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
Another feels a claw along their back before they are quickly sliced to ribbons and disemboweled, the Wendigo feasting on their corpse.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
"Dont feel like moving my project." he says. "Its rather delicate."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
" . . . T h e n I w i l l B R E A K Y O U F I R S T ." It hisses back at her, seething with hate. The shadows of the nearby trees twist and writhe, before seeping up from the ground as inky tendrils, ending in grasping slender hands and flailing hooks and snapping jaws of razor teeth.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
With that they are all killed. The creature vomits up the skeletons and starts to string them up, armor and all.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"Then don't mutter." He says.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
he waggles a screwdriver at them. "Then come over here and sit across from me." he says.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The Wendigo doesnt leave anything else from what it consumed, it's body seeming to have become healthier from eating them.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
The creature curls up on the ground like a cat.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
She doesn't get scared for a moment, instead, cracking a smile on her face as she begins to mutter some words of power. Inky black covers her body as light begins to shine, Inky black wings forming as her constellations take complete form. With a snap of her fingers she casts Sunbeam right on top of them, DC 19, Damage:39
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
The child floats down on the pillow next to them, and the Wendigo soon follows.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
It gently holds out a clawed finger to the child.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The child sleepily takes their clawed finger, their voice sleepily resonating in their mind "Five... more... minutes..."
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
"Do they always sleep...?" it asks quietly.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The Wendigo nods "Does not... remain awake... for long... death... often follows..."
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
Shadow's Dex save: 14
As the sunbeam hits the Seer's Shadow, it shrieks with both pain and rage, sinking back into the soil of the clearing to avoid a second attack. The flailing tendrils of darkness all lash at Merabelle with their various weapons.
Twisted Shadow 1: Attack 1: 25 to hit, 18 necrotic damage. Attack 2: 14 to hit, 17 necrotic damage. Attack 3: 25 to hit, 16 necrotic damage.
Twisted Shadow 2: Attack 1: 23 to hit, 18 necrotic damage. Attack 2: 21 to hit, 21 necrotic damage. Attack 3: 25 to hit, 10 necrotic damage.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The creature lets them hold their finger. "So...a violent force..?"
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.