Otto looks up and smiles. "Hello, friend. Your land has incredible apples."
Julius grins, flipping down into a pile of leaves and bounding over to Otto, stepping upon the wind to carry him.
”why thank you! I take pride in each and every one of our magnificent crops, every farm, field and orchard…”
He delicately places the top layer of sponge cake onto the layer of strawberries and cream. "Fruit is my favorite topic. I bred one of the most popular breeds of grape in my home country. My parents were nobles, so they could afford my foolish hobbies."
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.
Otto looks up and smiles. "Hello, friend. Your land has incredible apples."
Julius grins, flipping down into a pile of leaves and bounding over to Otto, stepping upon the wind to carry him.
”why thank you! I take pride in each and every one of our magnificent crops, every farm, field and orchard…”
He delicately places the top layer of sponge cake onto the layer of strawberries and cream. "Fruit is my favorite topic. I bred one of the most popular breeds of grape in my home country. My parents were nobles, so they could afford my foolish hobbies."
He gasps. ”my, my, how delightful! Agriculture is… something of a specialty of mine as well…”
"I don't know for certain, but it's a reasonable assumption. With him gone, there would be little else able to contest her might- the realm would be hers to control." It answers, still entirely serious. "I know of a way to weaken him, but I cannot do it alone."
"Weaken the King?" He repeats, standing ankle deep in writhing insects. His orange eyes narrow, "How would we know that you'd leave the throne to our Queen, may she ever rot and reek."
"My ambitions have nothing to do with the throne. I simply have a score to settle and some changes to make. Besides, I would likely do an abysmal job of running things." It laughs a bit at that last sentence, though everything it says is factual- just a lie of omission.
"Run things? What would you run from? Oh! The King of course! How would you weaken the one who keeps us bound and stays our fork-filled hands?" He clambers out of the grave and crouches on the other side of the hole, watching you.
"In two days' time, the hunt for the Barley King will begin. This hunt, and the Barley King's death, are essential to the eternal cycle of autumn here. If we were to find them first, capture them, and guard them from harm, the sacrifice will never occur. That shall be the first pillar of the Autumn King's might that crumbles, and the rest will follow from there."
"The Barley King breeds a bitter sort of beer. It tastes too pure for our precious palates." He plucks a squirming centipede off of his shoulder and slurps it down, "Blood is a better imbibment. To guard sounds hard." He scratches his chin. This is a creature who lives to destroy and tear apart what is already dead. Protecting the life of something is a foreign concept and contrary to his very nature. He is having a hard time wrapping his head around it.
"If the Barley King is not killed, the seasons may turn once again. The first winter this kingdom has experienced in ages. No one will be prepared for the first frost, let alone the weather that follows. There will be famine, and fighting, and much death. But that just means more blood for all of you. One life sealed away and protected, in exchange for an all-you-can-eat frenzy of the dead afterward. Seems like a fair trade to me."
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)
He delicately places the top layer of sponge cake onto the layer of strawberries and cream. "Fruit is my favorite topic. I bred one of the most popular breeds of grape in my home country. My parents were nobles, so they could afford my foolish hobbies."
He gasps. ”my, my, how delightful! Agriculture is… something of a specialty of mine as well…”
"I could tell. Are you a fey?" He asks as though it were a normal thing to ask. "You've hosted me very well so far, and your magic gives me some hints."
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.
He delicately places the top layer of sponge cake onto the layer of strawberries and cream. "Fruit is my favorite topic. I bred one of the most popular breeds of grape in my home country. My parents were nobles, so they could afford my foolish hobbies."
He gasps. ”my, my, how delightful! Agriculture is… something of a specialty of mine as well…”
"I could tell. Are you a fey?" He asks as though it were a normal thing to ask. "You've hosted me very well so far, and your magic gives me some hints."
He chuckles slightly. ”indeed! I am one of the fair folk… one of the Autumn Court of this land, in fact.”
"Sorry, I know of a similar sounding fellow but it seems they aren't the same. We can always benefit from having new friends, I do not mean to send him off."
“I see… who is this fellow that you had thought of?” Julius asks, leaning back as if he were sitting, still floating in the air.
He runs a hand through his red, rustling beard, "A fool... by occupation only. Every season has one. He's probably the last patron of the spring. Poisson D'avril is his proper name, but he goes by many others. I did him a great wrong long ago."
*aha! I recognize those French words! That means the April Fish*
he leans forward, intrigued. “Oh, really? what happened to the others of the Spring Court?-… and what did you do to him so long ago? I have not heard of this story before…”
*It sure does! And so you probably know that it is the French way to say April Fools.*
He hangs his head, "This is not a glad story. My heart grows heavy in the telling... but I believe it must be told. When I was young... younger... I was consumed by a desire to win glory through war and the shedding of blood. The most obvious target for my warmongering was the Spring Court, for we are innately opposed. Spring is of birth, Autumn is of death. Spring is of the new, Autumn is of the old. Spring is of planting, Autumn is of harvest. I had not yet realized that those differences needn't make us foes. I conquered their nation and killed many of their number. The rest I threw into my arenas of war and had them slain in gladiatorial combat for the amusement of me and my nobles. That was one of my darkest hours." A deep sadness is written into every wrinkle of his face and he suddenly seems to be very, very old. "As far as I know, I had every last son and daughter of spring slain, aside from the April Fish. He alone escaped my wrath, but he did so at a great cost. Victory as a gladiator." He pauses, holding his face in his great hands, overtaken by the horror of his past actions.
"The Barley King breeds a bitter sort of beer. It tastes too pure for our precious palates." He plucks a squirming centipede off of his shoulder and slurps it down, "Blood is a better imbibment. To guard sounds hard." He scratches his chin. This is a creature who lives to destroy and tear apart what is already dead. Protecting the life of something is a foreign concept and contrary to his very nature. He is having a hard time wrapping his head around it.
"If the Barley King is not killed, the seasons may turn once again. The first winter this kingdom has experienced in ages. No one will be prepared for the first frost, let alone the weather that follows. There will be famine, and fighting, and much death. But that just means more blood for all of you. One life sealed away and protected, in exchange for an all-you-can-eat frenzy of the dead afterward. Seems like a fair trade to me."
He begins to salivate, "The flesh of the famished have such a delightful tang to them! I haven't eaten the starved in so long. There is so much food here. But... we would need our Queen's permittance to strike at the King. May her heart moulder on. She has kept us back for so long! Tantalized us with promises but forbade us to seek them out! Not yet, she says! Wait, she says!" He moans in agony.
"I could tell. Are you a fey?" He asks as though it were a normal thing to ask. "You've hosted me very well so far, and your magic gives me some hints."
He chuckles slightly. ”indeed! I am one of the fair folk… one of the Autumn Court of this land, in fact.”
"Very impressive. I'm a fiend myself. I grew up from the ground because of the massive level of betrayal present in my home country. I love people, unlike my brethren who view them as food." He cuts a slice of the cake and offers it to Julius.
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.
"The Barley King breeds a bitter sort of beer. It tastes too pure for our precious palates." He plucks a squirming centipede off of his shoulder and slurps it down, "Blood is a better imbibment. To guard sounds hard." He scratches his chin. This is a creature who lives to destroy and tear apart what is already dead. Protecting the life of something is a foreign concept and contrary to his very nature. He is having a hard time wrapping his head around it.
"If the Barley King is not killed, the seasons may turn once again. The first winter this kingdom has experienced in ages. No one will be prepared for the first frost, let alone the weather that follows. There will be famine, and fighting, and much death. But that just means more blood for all of you. One life sealed away and protected, in exchange for an all-you-can-eat frenzy of the dead afterward. Seems like a fair trade to me."
He begins to salivate, "The flesh of the famished have such a delightful tang to them! I haven't eaten the starved in so long. There is so much food here. But... we would need our Queen's permittance to strike at the King. May her heart moulder on. She has kept us back for so long! Tantalized us with promises but forbade us to seek them out! Not yet, she says! Wait, she says!" He moans in agony.
"I am not asking for you to strike at the King directly- not yet, at least. The time will come soon, I'm certain of that. All I ask is audience with your queen, may she rot everlasting, so I may speak with her about this proposal."
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)
"The Barley King breeds a bitter sort of beer. It tastes too pure for our precious palates." He plucks a squirming centipede off of his shoulder and slurps it down, "Blood is a better imbibment. To guard sounds hard." He scratches his chin. This is a creature who lives to destroy and tear apart what is already dead. Protecting the life of something is a foreign concept and contrary to his very nature. He is having a hard time wrapping his head around it.
"If the Barley King is not killed, the seasons may turn once again. The first winter this kingdom has experienced in ages. No one will be prepared for the first frost, let alone the weather that follows. There will be famine, and fighting, and much death. But that just means more blood for all of you. One life sealed away and protected, in exchange for an all-you-can-eat frenzy of the dead afterward. Seems like a fair trade to me."
He begins to salivate, "The flesh of the famished have such a delightful tang to them! I haven't eaten the starved in so long. There is so much food here. But... we would need our Queen's permittance to strike at the King. May her heart moulder on. She has kept us back for so long! Tantalized us with promises but forbade us to seek them out! Not yet, she says! Wait, she says!" He moans in agony.
"I am not asking for you to strike at the King directly- not yet, at least. The time will come soon, I'm certain of that. All I ask is audience with your queen, may she rot everlasting, so I may speak with her about this proposal."
"An audience?" He hisses underneath his breath, "We don't like visitors. Well we do, but they don't like us after the first few bites. Your... flesh looks unappetizing though. And your proposition is deliciously delightful..." He considers this and then whispers quietly, "I suppose I could... so long as you're willing to travel through the ghoul gates."
"The Barley King breeds a bitter sort of beer. It tastes too pure for our precious palates." He plucks a squirming centipede off of his shoulder and slurps it down, "Blood is a better imbibment. To guard sounds hard." He scratches his chin. This is a creature who lives to destroy and tear apart what is already dead. Protecting the life of something is a foreign concept and contrary to his very nature. He is having a hard time wrapping his head around it.
"If the Barley King is not killed, the seasons may turn once again. The first winter this kingdom has experienced in ages. No one will be prepared for the first frost, let alone the weather that follows. There will be famine, and fighting, and much death. But that just means more blood for all of you. One life sealed away and protected, in exchange for an all-you-can-eat frenzy of the dead afterward. Seems like a fair trade to me."
He begins to salivate, "The flesh of the famished have such a delightful tang to them! I haven't eaten the starved in so long. There is so much food here. But... we would need our Queen's permittance to strike at the King. May her heart moulder on. She has kept us back for so long! Tantalized us with promises but forbade us to seek them out! Not yet, she says! Wait, she says!" He moans in agony.
"I am not asking for you to strike at the King directly- not yet, at least. The time will come soon, I'm certain of that. All I ask is audience with your queen, may she rot everlasting, so I may speak with her about this proposal."
"An audience?" He hisses underneath his breath, "We don't like visitors. Well we do, but they don't like us after the first few bites. Your... flesh looks unappetizing though. And your proposition is deliciously delightful..." He considers this and then whispers quietly, "I suppose I could... so long as you're willing to travel through the ghoul gates."
"The ghoul gates shall work wonderfully. Many thanks, friend." It responds, seeming pleased with how its plan is progressing.
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)
"An audience?" He hisses underneath his breath, "We don't like visitors. Well we do, but they don't like us after the first few bites. Your... flesh looks unappetizing though. And your proposition is deliciously delightful..." He considers this and then whispers quietly, "I suppose I could... so long as you're willing to travel through the ghoul gates."
"The ghoul gates shall work wonderfully. Many thanks, friend." It responds, seeming pleased with how its plan is progressing.
"Then follow, friend, and we'll take the foul way. Heeheeha!" The speckled ghoul races off on all fours. He hurdles the gravestones and leaps across gaping graves without looking. He must know the terrain well. Soon you arrive at a great big tombstone that points up at the sky like a finger accusing the heavens of a horrendous crime. The ghoul raps on the stone with his knuckles and cries out, "Doorkeeper! You mincemeat mouse! Open the gate and let in a brother and a guest!" There is a brief moment of silence and then the gravestone swings open like a door. Where it once stood, there is now a dark hole in the air. The speckled ghoul looks over his shoulder and grins at you wickedly, "The dead diners have their own doors. This one's ours! Ha ha!" He then darts inside, disappearing into the empty shadow that stands upright before you.
"An audience?" He hisses underneath his breath, "We don't like visitors. Well we do, but they don't like us after the first few bites. Your... flesh looks unappetizing though. And your proposition is deliciously delightful..." He considers this and then whispers quietly, "I suppose I could... so long as you're willing to travel through the ghoul gates."
"The ghoul gates shall work wonderfully. Many thanks, friend." It responds, seeming pleased with how its plan is progressing.
"Then follow, friend, and we'll take the foul way. Heeheeha!" The speckled ghoul races off on all fours. He hurdles the gravestones and leaps across gaping graves without looking. He must know the terrain well. Soon you arrive at a great big tombstone that points up at the sky like a finger accusing the heavens of a horrendous crime. The ghoul raps on the stone with his knuckles and cries out, "Doorkeeper! You mincemeat mouse! Open the gate and let in a brother and a guest!" There is a brief moment of silence and then the gravestone swings open like a door. Where it once stood, there is now a dark hole in the air. The speckled ghoul looks over his shoulder and grins at you wickedly, "The dead diners have their own doors. This one's ours! Ha ha!" He then darts inside, disappearing into the empty shadow that stands upright before you.
"How curious..." The crooked god-eater mutters to itself, before contorting its twisting form through the gateway and proceeding inside.
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)
"Then follow, friend, and we'll take the foul way. Heeheeha!" The speckled ghoul races off on all fours. He hurdles the gravestones and leaps across gaping graves without looking. He must know the terrain well. Soon you arrive at a great big tombstone that points up at the sky like a finger accusing the heavens of a horrendous crime. The ghoul raps on the stone with his knuckles and cries out, "Doorkeeper! You mincemeat mouse! Open the gate and let in a brother and a guest!" There is a brief moment of silence and then the gravestone swings open like a door. Where it once stood, there is now a dark hole in the air. The speckled ghoul looks over his shoulder and grins at you wickedly, "The dead diners have their own doors. This one's ours! Ha ha!" He then darts inside, disappearing into the empty shadow that stands upright before you.
"How curious..." The crooked god-eater mutters to itself, before contorting its twisting form through the gateway and proceeding inside.
You feel a hard ground below you but inky black darkness surrounds everything else. A terrible smell of decay and rot lays thick in the air. All around you are the terrible mutterings of the insane. "I feel it in my bones... To heaven with it! To heaven and let it shine!... Baby! Baby! Just a baby!... I tells her, you so ugly but mama loves you anyways... A garden just crept by! A horrible garden of sun!.... Learn your letters, 1, 2, 6,... There are bats in those brains..." But above all the whispers you hear the voice of the speckled ghoul leading you on. "This way! Ha haha ha! Follow now! Stay close! Heehee! Stay close to me! Heehee hahaha! Don't get lost now! Ha!" And then a tombstone shaped hole of dim light breaks through the blackness and the ghoul leads you through it.
And onto a wall. A massive wall of blackened earth. A grave field turned vertical with massive tombstones sticking out like the broken off branches of a nightmarish tree. You perch precariously on one of these gravestones. All around you, other ghouls scramble up and down the horrible pillar of death like ants over a corpse. "Upwards now!" Cries the speckled ghoul who is already leaping from tombstone to tombstone, "Upwards to our Queen! Let her wounds fester forever!"
"Then follow, friend, and we'll take the foul way. Heeheeha!" The speckled ghoul races off on all fours. He hurdles the gravestones and leaps across gaping graves without looking. He must know the terrain well. Soon you arrive at a great big tombstone that points up at the sky like a finger accusing the heavens of a horrendous crime. The ghoul raps on the stone with his knuckles and cries out, "Doorkeeper! You mincemeat mouse! Open the gate and let in a brother and a guest!" There is a brief moment of silence and then the gravestone swings open like a door. Where it once stood, there is now a dark hole in the air. The speckled ghoul looks over his shoulder and grins at you wickedly, "The dead diners have their own doors. This one's ours! Ha ha!" He then darts inside, disappearing into the empty shadow that stands upright before you.
"How curious..." The crooked god-eater mutters to itself, before contorting its twisting form through the gateway and proceeding inside.
You feel a hard ground below you but inky black darkness surrounds everything else. A terrible smell of decay and rot lays thick in the air. All around you are the terrible mutterings of the insane. "I feel it in my bones... To heaven with it! To heaven and let it shine!... Baby! Baby! Just a baby!... I tells her, you so ugly but mama loves you anyways... A garden just crept by! A horrible garden of sun!.... Learn your letters, 1, 2, 6,... There are bats in those brains..." But above all the whispers you hear the voice of the speckled ghoul leading you on. "This way! Ha haha ha! Follow now! Stay close! Heehee! Stay close to me! Heehee hahaha! Don't get lost now! Ha!" And then a tombstone shaped hole of dim light breaks through the blackness and the ghoul leads you through it.
And onto a wall. A massive wall of blackened earth. A grave field turned vertical with massive tombstones sticking out like the broken off branches of a nightmarish tree. You perch precariously on one of these gravestones. All around you, other ghouls scramble up and down the horrible pillar of death like ants over a corpse. "Upwards now!" Cries the speckled ghoul who is already leaping from tombstone to tombstone, "Upwards to our Queen! Let her wounds fester forever!"
It takes a second to look up at the massive wall of graves, crawling with the undead, before following the speckled ghoul upwards towards the queen. It doesn't even bother with the tombstones, rooting into the dark soil directly and scaling the wall that way.
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)
It takes a second to look up at the massive wall of graves, crawling with the undead, before following the speckled ghoul upwards towards the queen. It doesn't even bother with the tombstones, rooting into the dark soil directly and scaling the wall that way.
As you clamber up the cemetery wall, your roots unearth the ghastly remains of shattered skeletons with gnaw marks on their bones. It's a long way up, but the two of you travel swiftly. You notice a large number of other ghouls begin to follow after you until there is an entire horde of the creatures on your tail.
Then you crest the wall, emerging onto desert field of black dust. More cracked tombstones lay scattered about and up here a few trees stand like dead alien horror reaching to the stars with their leafless branches. Grey stone structures, so dilapidated that you can't even tell what sort of buildings they once were, lay about like strewn corpses. And approaching through a ruined archway is someone who must only be the Queen of the Ghouls.
You know she must be the Queen for there is nothing ghoulish about her. She is a short woman with pale skin and grey hair. It is hard to determine her age for her eyes hold many years but there is not a single wrinkle on her face. An iron crown with an ancient design rests on her brow and she is dressed in tattered rags that must have once been a fine, scarlet gown.
"A visitor? It has been so long since you've brought anyone living to Ghulheim. Please, introduce yourself flowered one."
It takes a second to look up at the massive wall of graves, crawling with the undead, before following the speckled ghoul upwards towards the queen. It doesn't even bother with the tombstones, rooting into the dark soil directly and scaling the wall that way.
As you clamber up the cemetery wall, your roots unearth the ghastly remains of shattered skeletons with gnaw marks on their bones. It's a long way up, but the two of you travel swiftly. You notice a large number of other ghouls begin to follow after you until there is an entire horde of the creatures on your tail.
Then you crest the wall, emerging onto desert field of black dust. More cracked tombstones lay scattered about and up here a few trees stand like dead alien horror reaching to the stars with their leafless branches. Grey stone structures, so dilapidated that you can't even tell what sort of buildings they once were, lay about like strewn corpses. And approaching through a ruined archway is someone who must only be the Queen of the Ghouls.
You know she must be the Queen for there is nothing ghoulish about her. She is a short woman with pale skin and grey hair. It is hard to determine her age for her eyes hold many years but there is not a single wrinkle on her face. An iron crown with an ancient design rests on her brow and she is dressed in tattered rags that must have once been a fine, scarlet gown.
"A visitor? It has been so long since you've brought anyone living to Ghulheim. Please, introduce yourself flowered one."
The crooked flower bows deeply before the Queen of the undead, dimming its ever-crackling star-fueled flames as to not accidentally burn any of the ghouls around it. "I am honored to make your acquaintance, your majesty. I am Helianth, Eater of Gods. I come here to offer a proposition I believe will greatly benefit us all."
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)
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He delicately places the top layer of sponge cake onto the layer of strawberries and cream. "Fruit is my favorite topic. I bred one of the most popular breeds of grape in my home country. My parents were nobles, so they could afford my foolish hobbies."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He gasps. ”my, my, how delightful! Agriculture is… something of a specialty of mine as well…”
"If the Barley King is not killed, the seasons may turn once again. The first winter this kingdom has experienced in ages. No one will be prepared for the first frost, let alone the weather that follows. There will be famine, and fighting, and much death. But that just means more blood for all of you. One life sealed away and protected, in exchange for an all-you-can-eat frenzy of the dead afterward. Seems like a fair trade to me."
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 could tell. Are you a fey?" He asks as though it were a normal thing to ask. "You've hosted me very well so far, and your magic gives me some hints."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He chuckles slightly. ”indeed! I am one of the fair folk… one of the Autumn Court of this land, in fact.”
*It sure does! And so you probably know that it is the French way to say April Fools.*
He hangs his head, "This is not a glad story. My heart grows heavy in the telling... but I believe it must be told. When I was young... younger... I was consumed by a desire to win glory through war and the shedding of blood. The most obvious target for my warmongering was the Spring Court, for we are innately opposed. Spring is of birth, Autumn is of death. Spring is of the new, Autumn is of the old. Spring is of planting, Autumn is of harvest. I had not yet realized that those differences needn't make us foes. I conquered their nation and killed many of their number. The rest I threw into my arenas of war and had them slain in gladiatorial combat for the amusement of me and my nobles. That was one of my darkest hours." A deep sadness is written into every wrinkle of his face and he suddenly seems to be very, very old. "As far as I know, I had every last son and daughter of spring slain, aside from the April Fish. He alone escaped my wrath, but he did so at a great cost. Victory as a gladiator." He pauses, holding his face in his great hands, overtaken by the horror of his past actions.
He begins to salivate, "The flesh of the famished have such a delightful tang to them! I haven't eaten the starved in so long. There is so much food here. But... we would need our Queen's permittance to strike at the King. May her heart moulder on. She has kept us back for so long! Tantalized us with promises but forbade us to seek them out! Not yet, she says! Wait, she says!" He moans in agony.
"Very impressive. I'm a fiend myself. I grew up from the ground because of the massive level of betrayal present in my home country. I love people, unlike my brethren who view them as food." He cuts a slice of the cake and offers it to Julius.
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 not asking for you to strike at the King directly- not yet, at least. The time will come soon, I'm certain of that. All I ask is audience with your queen, may she rot everlasting, so I may speak with her about this proposal."
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 audience?" He hisses underneath his breath, "We don't like visitors. Well we do, but they don't like us after the first few bites. Your... flesh looks unappetizing though. And your proposition is deliciously delightful..." He considers this and then whispers quietly, "I suppose I could... so long as you're willing to travel through the ghoul gates."
"The ghoul gates shall work wonderfully. Many thanks, friend." It responds, seeming pleased with how its plan is progressing.
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)
"Then follow, friend, and we'll take the foul way. Heeheeha!" The speckled ghoul races off on all fours. He hurdles the gravestones and leaps across gaping graves without looking. He must know the terrain well. Soon you arrive at a great big tombstone that points up at the sky like a finger accusing the heavens of a horrendous crime. The ghoul raps on the stone with his knuckles and cries out, "Doorkeeper! You mincemeat mouse! Open the gate and let in a brother and a guest!" There is a brief moment of silence and then the gravestone swings open like a door. Where it once stood, there is now a dark hole in the air. The speckled ghoul looks over his shoulder and grins at you wickedly, "The dead diners have their own doors. This one's ours! Ha ha!" He then darts inside, disappearing into the empty shadow that stands upright before you.
"How curious..." The crooked god-eater mutters to itself, before contorting its twisting form through the gateway and proceeding inside.
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)
You feel a hard ground below you but inky black darkness surrounds everything else. A terrible smell of decay and rot lays thick in the air. All around you are the terrible mutterings of the insane. "I feel it in my bones... To heaven with it! To heaven and let it shine!... Baby! Baby! Just a baby!... I tells her, you so ugly but mama loves you anyways... A garden just crept by! A horrible garden of sun!.... Learn your letters, 1, 2, 6,... There are bats in those brains..." But above all the whispers you hear the voice of the speckled ghoul leading you on. "This way! Ha haha ha! Follow now! Stay close! Heehee! Stay close to me! Heehee hahaha! Don't get lost now! Ha!" And then a tombstone shaped hole of dim light breaks through the blackness and the ghoul leads you through it.
And onto a wall. A massive wall of blackened earth. A grave field turned vertical with massive tombstones sticking out like the broken off branches of a nightmarish tree. You perch precariously on one of these gravestones. All around you, other ghouls scramble up and down the horrible pillar of death like ants over a corpse. "Upwards now!" Cries the speckled ghoul who is already leaping from tombstone to tombstone, "Upwards to our Queen! Let her wounds fester forever!"
It takes a second to look up at the massive wall of graves, crawling with the undead, before following the speckled ghoul upwards towards the queen. It doesn't even bother with the tombstones, rooting into the dark soil directly and scaling the wall that way.
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 have to leave. Might be back later tonight. Adios!*
*Farewell for now, friend! Until we meet again!*
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)
*hello, darlings!*
As you clamber up the cemetery wall, your roots unearth the ghastly remains of shattered skeletons with gnaw marks on their bones. It's a long way up, but the two of you travel swiftly. You notice a large number of other ghouls begin to follow after you until there is an entire horde of the creatures on your tail.
Then you crest the wall, emerging onto desert field of black dust. More cracked tombstones lay scattered about and up here a few trees stand like dead alien horror reaching to the stars with their leafless branches. Grey stone structures, so dilapidated that you can't even tell what sort of buildings they once were, lay about like strewn corpses. And approaching through a ruined archway is someone who must only be the Queen of the Ghouls.
You know she must be the Queen for there is nothing ghoulish about her. She is a short woman with pale skin and grey hair. It is hard to determine her age for her eyes hold many years but there is not a single wrinkle on her face. An iron crown with an ancient design rests on her brow and she is dressed in tattered rags that must have once been a fine, scarlet gown.
"A visitor? It has been so long since you've brought anyone living to Ghulheim. Please, introduce yourself flowered one."
The crooked flower bows deeply before the Queen of the undead, dimming its ever-crackling star-fueled flames as to not accidentally burn any of the ghouls around it. "I am honored to make your acquaintance, your majesty. I am Helianth, Eater of Gods. I come here to offer a proposition I believe will greatly benefit us all."
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)