Deep laughter and singing can be heard from outside, along with flesh ripping, bones breaking, and loud chopping.
Rodd perks up when she hears this.
Omori shudders at the sounds, and tries to sprint towards the inn door. Her 'hair' opens its *many* eyes once more, scanning her surroundings for any danger.
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)
Deep laughter and singing can be heard from outside, along with flesh ripping, bones breaking, and loud chopping.
Rodd perks up when she hears this.
Omori shudders at the sounds, and tries to sprint towards the inn door. Her 'hair' opens its *many* eyes once more, scanning her surroundings for any danger.
An old, rickety cart, pulled by what appeared to be flesh golems in the shape of animals, is moving toward the inn. On top is a large humanoid with a massive grin and a hat covering his face. He wears a white suit with rolled up sleeves and an apron, all splattered with gore. He sings and kicks some offal to the ground in a strange dance as he turns to the warped obelisk of flesh in the back of the cart, ripping and cutting at it with his knives and bare hands.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Deep laughter and singing can be heard from outside, along with flesh ripping, bones breaking, and loud chopping.
Rodd perks up when she hears this.
Omori shudders at the sounds, and tries to sprint towards the inn door. Her 'hair' opens its *many* eyes once more, scanning her surroundings for any danger.
An old, rickety cart, pulled by what appeared to be flesh golems in the shape of animals, is moving toward the inn. On top is a large humanoid with a massive grin and a hat covering his face. He wears a white suit with rolled up sleeves and an apron, all splattered with gore. He sings and kicks some offal to the ground in a strange dance as he turns to the warped obelisk of flesh in the back of the cart, ripping and cutting at it with his knives and bare hands.
She continues running to the inn, sickened by the grotesque sight. The eyes, however, all stare at the obelisk. They just... stare. Searching for something.
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)
"Our butscher. Bit of a fleshsmith and corpse tender, in his own eyes. Big heart, big smile, and a feelin' for meat. Tried to date im' once, but he said that he was 'married to his work.' I think he was just scared that I would hurt 'is precious product, bein' a big, hungry gnoll an' all."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Deep laughter and singing can be heard from outside, along with flesh ripping, bones breaking, and loud chopping.
Rodd perks up when she hears this.
Omori shudders at the sounds, and tries to sprint towards the inn door. Her 'hair' opens its *many* eyes once more, scanning her surroundings for any danger.
An old, rickety cart, pulled by what appeared to be flesh golems in the shape of animals, is moving toward the inn. On top is a large humanoid with a massive grin and a hat covering his face. He wears a white suit with rolled up sleeves and an apron, all splattered with gore. He sings and kicks some offal to the ground in a strange dance as he turns to the warped obelisk of flesh in the back of the cart, ripping and cutting at it with his knives and bare hands.
She continues running to the inn, sickened by the grotesque sight. The eyes, however, all stare at the obelisk. They just... stare. Searching for something.
The man turns back around, laughing loudly. He begins to bellow in an Italian accent, "What is there to be afraid of on this Glorious Night? O, what Joy to be found in Meat!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I am always Great! Blessed, even! The Gods smile down upon all of us This Very Night! Isn't that Wonderful!? Even the undead are Blessed! O, Frabjous Night!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Rodd nods. "He's a real monster, eh? No one knows who he prays to, but his faith c'rtainly makes him shine. He buys surplus from the Yeller City o'er round the mountain, an' he keeps it fresh and edible with magic. Big ol' love monster, he gives it out for free. Bastard loves every drop of blood on 'is apron and every blade o' dead grass, but e's more'n happy to start killin' if necessary."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*I shall bring back the one, the only, Halho!*
(Idk who that is, can I have a description or smth?)
Your friendly trans bard!
She/They pronouns
The Goddess of the Strings (thanks for the title Drummer!)
Deep laughter and singing can be heard from outside, along with flesh ripping, bones breaking, and loud chopping.
Rodd perks up when she hears this.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Omori shudders at the sounds, and tries to sprint towards the inn door. Her 'hair' opens its *many* eyes once more, scanning her surroundings for any danger.
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)
An old, rickety cart, pulled by what appeared to be flesh golems in the shape of animals, is moving toward the inn. On top is a large humanoid with a massive grin and a hat covering his face. He wears a white suit with rolled up sleeves and an apron, all splattered with gore. He sings and kicks some offal to the ground in a strange dance as he turns to the warped obelisk of flesh in the back of the cart, ripping and cutting at it with his knives and bare hands.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Vlas is wiping down tables throughout the tavern.
Your friendly trans bard!
She/They pronouns
The Goddess of the Strings (thanks for the title Drummer!)
She continues running to the inn, sickened by the grotesque sight. The eyes, however, all stare at the obelisk. They just... stare. Searching for something.
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)
Roddenberg watches. The tables haven't been this clean in a long time. "Might wanna hold off on that, lassie. Guanchalli's comin'."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"What, or who is Gun Chili?"
Your friendly trans bard!
She/They pronouns
The Goddess of the Strings (thanks for the title Drummer!)
"Our butscher. Bit of a fleshsmith and corpse tender, in his own eyes. Big heart, big smile, and a feelin' for meat. Tried to date im' once, but he said that he was 'married to his work.' I think he was just scared that I would hurt 'is precious product, bein' a big, hungry gnoll an' all."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Oh cool,"
Your friendly trans bard!
She/They pronouns
The Goddess of the Strings (thanks for the title Drummer!)
The man turns back around, laughing loudly. He begins to bellow in an Italian accent, "What is there to be afraid of on this Glorious Night? O, what Joy to be found in Meat!"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Ello there!"
Your friendly trans bard!
She/They pronouns
The Goddess of the Strings (thanks for the title Drummer!)
"Ciao, Friend! I see the Good Blood has done you well! How are you this Fine Night?!
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Pretty fine, and yourself?"
Your friendly trans bard!
She/They pronouns
The Goddess of the Strings (thanks for the title Drummer!)
"I am always Great! Blessed, even! The Gods smile down upon all of us This Very Night! Isn't that Wonderful!? Even the undead are Blessed! O, Frabjous Night!"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"I like him."
Your friendly trans bard!
She/They pronouns
The Goddess of the Strings (thanks for the title Drummer!)
Omori seems less panicked, but still a bit on edge. The eyes don't stop staring at the obelisk.
"A spire ever bleeding..." She utters to herself, bringing herself to look at the obelisk with her own eyes.
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)
Rodd nods. "He's a real monster, eh? No one knows who he prays to, but his faith c'rtainly makes him shine. He buys surplus from the Yeller City o'er round the mountain, an' he keeps it fresh and edible with magic. Big ol' love monster, he gives it out for free. Bastard loves every drop of blood on 'is apron and every blade o' dead grass, but e's more'n happy to start killin' if necessary."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
It is a massive hunk of flesh and bone, chopped and torn to get flesh from the random, meaningless anatomy of the spire.
The grass seems to perk up slightly where the blood pours off of the cart.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.