Helianth has grown tired of its current perch. Its roots tear themselves from the earth as it creeps forwards in the direction of the sun, hoping to absorb a last few rays of light before night arrives.
“There are much more available tables to dine on then the heavenly one you strain at.” Says a voice coming from the shadows of a leaf bare tree. Two triangle eyes flicker with candlelight above a jagged grin.
One of the sunflower's heads turns to face the voice in the tree, the rest still taking in light. "...Material... feasts... do nothing... to sate... my hunger..."
The glowing eyes and mouth are snuffed out in a cold wind. The wind blows a cluster of reddened leaves that flutter closer before coalescing into the shape of a tall, strong man with a bushy beard of leaves. “Then you may hunger like all the rest of us, for the sun is farther away from here than it appears. Here, the sun is eternally saying farewell.”
The gargantuan husk of a sunflower fully turns towards the man, only one flower absorbing the light. "...Who... are you?.." For the briefest moment, the man can see the sunlight physically being absorbed into its flowers- snuffed out in an unseen void behind its 'faces'.
“I am Augustus, King of the Autumn Court,” He says, “and lord of this country. Who are you?”
"...I am... Helianth..." The plant pauses, taking in a raspy breath. "...I followed... the sun... here... to this place..."
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 cracks open dryly and slowly crumbles away. Inside is a strange and terrible shape. A humanoid figure covered in thin, soft, grey hair sits tightly with its legs pulled up to its chest and its arms wrapped around its knees, as if it was freezing to death. Papery, wrinkled moth wings lie broken behind its back. The moth-man-thing has no mouth, no nose, no ears, and no eyes. Where its eyes should be, two feathery antennae curl instead, like fragile, insectile antlers.
Your spear is plunged directly into its heart.
A faint, shivering voice whispers through your mind, “An Omen today, has never spread its wings. It can’t be discerned, the killing of kings.”
"Dont speak in riddles." he says, pushing the spear further in its chest.
It's chest cracks and a grey, flaky, sand like substance pours out of the wound. "I came to discern what was to come, but I felt pain and death before anything else. Now destiny is obscured, and man must wait till instance comes beforeknowing what instance will be..."
Helianth has grown tired of its current perch. Its roots tear themselves from the earth as it creeps forwards in the direction of the sun, hoping to absorb a last few rays of light before night arrives.
“There are much more available tables to dine on then the heavenly one you strain at.” Says a voice coming from the shadows of a leaf bare tree. Two triangle eyes flicker with candlelight above a jagged grin.
One of the sunflower's heads turns to face the voice in the tree, the rest still taking in light. "...Material... feasts... do nothing... to sate... my hunger..."
The glowing eyes and mouth are snuffed out in a cold wind. The wind blows a cluster of reddened leaves that flutter closer before coalescing into the shape of a tall, strong man with a bushy beard of leaves. “Then you may hunger like all the rest of us, for the sun is farther away from here than it appears. Here, the sun is eternally saying farewell.”
The gargantuan husk of a sunflower fully turns towards the man, only one flower absorbing the light. "...Who... are you?.." For the briefest moment, the man can see the sunlight physically being absorbed into its flowers- snuffed out in an unseen void behind its 'faces'.
“I am Augustus, King of the Autumn Court,” He says, “and lord of this country. Who are you?”
"...I am... Helianth..." The plant pauses, taking in a raspy breath. "...I followed... the sun... here... to this place..."
"Welcome Helianth," A smile stretches through his beard and his eyes shine like candlelight out of a jack'o'lantern, "The sun has led you well."
It cracks open dryly and slowly crumbles away. Inside is a strange and terrible shape. A humanoid figure covered in thin, soft, grey hair sits tightly with its legs pulled up to its chest and its arms wrapped around its knees, as if it was freezing to death. Papery, wrinkled moth wings lie broken behind its back. The moth-man-thing has no mouth, no nose, no ears, and no eyes. Where its eyes should be, two feathery antennae curl instead, like fragile, insectile antlers.
Your spear is plunged directly into its heart.
A faint, shivering voice whispers through your mind, “An Omen today, has never spread its wings. It can’t be discerned, the killing of kings.”
"Dont speak in riddles." he says, pushing the spear further in its chest.
It's chest cracks and a grey, flaky, sand like substance pours out of the wound. "I came to discern what was to come, but I felt pain and death before anything else. Now destiny is obscured, and man must wait till instance comes beforeknowing what instance will be..."
Apollon shoves the spear deeper. “Explain yourself!” He roars, flames trickling down the spear
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.
It cracks open dryly and slowly crumbles away. Inside is a strange and terrible shape. A humanoid figure covered in thin, soft, grey hair sits tightly with its legs pulled up to its chest and its arms wrapped around its knees, as if it was freezing to death. Papery, wrinkled moth wings lie broken behind its back. The moth-man-thing has no mouth, no nose, no ears, and no eyes. Where its eyes should be, two feathery antennae curl instead, like fragile, insectile antlers.
Your spear is plunged directly into its heart.
A faint, shivering voice whispers through your mind, “An Omen today, has never spread its wings. It can’t be discerned, the killing of kings.”
"Dont speak in riddles." he says, pushing the spear further in its chest.
It's chest cracks and a grey, flaky, sand like substance pours out of the wound. "I came to discern what was to come, but I felt pain and death before anything else. Now destiny is obscured, and man must wait till instance comes beforeknowing what instance will be..."
Apollon shoves the spear deeper. “Explain yourself!” He roars, flames trickling down the spear
The motionless corpse twitches as the fire starts. Then it begins to unfold as the flames are sucked into the open wound. Its crumpled wings expand, spreading out and glowing with heat. Embers dance through the hair of its body as its arms spread wide and its featureless head is thrown back. The crack in its chest expands farther up its torso and its feathery antenna glow with searing heat like a scorching brand. The voice grows in strength but it still feels fragile, as if it could shatter any second. "I was an Omen! A living portent of what was to come! You struck me down before I spread my wings, forever muddying the waters of the future so that no man can see into this matter with certainty! By my burning now, I can only declare that Death will visit soon! He will sweep away the soul of another here as he sweeps mine own ashes! I will not be the only one to burn!"
Its wings spread wider and wider as it screams telepathically through your mind. Eventually they can't spread anymore and so they tear into a thousand fluttering strips that are eaten away by the flames. The blazing inferno of the Omen's chest consume the creatures form. In a flash of heat and radiance, the Omen collapses to the ground, a burnt husk of what once was and will never be.
It cracks open dryly and slowly crumbles away. Inside is a strange and terrible shape. A humanoid figure covered in thin, soft, grey hair sits tightly with its legs pulled up to its chest and its arms wrapped around its knees, as if it was freezing to death. Papery, wrinkled moth wings lie broken behind its back. The moth-man-thing has no mouth, no nose, no ears, and no eyes. Where its eyes should be, two feathery antennae curl instead, like fragile, insectile antlers.
Your spear is plunged directly into its heart.
A faint, shivering voice whispers through your mind, “An Omen today, has never spread its wings. It can’t be discerned, the killing of kings.”
"Dont speak in riddles." he says, pushing the spear further in its chest.
It's chest cracks and a grey, flaky, sand like substance pours out of the wound. "I came to discern what was to come, but I felt pain and death before anything else. Now destiny is obscured, and man must wait till instance comes beforeknowing what instance will be..."
Apollon shoves the spear deeper. “Explain yourself!” He roars, flames trickling down the spear
The motionless corpse twitches as the fire starts. Then it begins to unfold as the flames are sucked into the open wound. Its crumpled wings expand, spreading out and glowing with heat. Embers dance through the hair of its body as its arms spread wide and its featureless head is thrown back. The crack in its chest expands farther up its torso and its feathery antenna glow with searing heat like a scorching brand. The voice grows in strength but it still feels fragile, as if it could shatter any second. "I was an Omen! A living portent of what was to come! You struck me down before I spread my wings, forever muddying the waters of the future so that no man can see into this matter with certainty! By my burning now, I can only declare that Death will visit soon! He will sweep away the soul of another here as he sweeps mine own ashes! I will not be the only one to burn!"
Its wings spread wider and wider as it screams telepathically through your mind. Eventually they can't spread anymore and so they tear into a thousand fluttering strips that are eaten away by the flames. The blazing inferno of the Omen's chest consume the creatures form. In a flash of heat and radiance, the Omen collapses to the ground, a burnt husk of what once was and will never be.
Apollon is breathing heavily as the flames are extinguished. He smiles, a sick, insane smile. “Well…another shall burn…” he laughs a bit. “I like the sound of that..”
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Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Szeru is building Charcuterie golems to protect the Keep. They seem gentle and feel no pain or desire for self-preservation.
An old, hunchbacked man hobbles up the path towards the Keep. He sways with each step he takes and he holds his hands behind his back so that with each step he takes he seems in danger of falling to his face. Bushy red hair grows from his face and around the back of his balding head. He is dressed in simple rags that hang loose around his body.
He spies you making the golems and begins to make his way over to you, a smile can barely be seen under the fuzz of his beard.
Szeru is building Charcuterie golems to protect the Keep. They seem gentle and feel no pain or desire for self-preservation.
An old, hunchbacked man hobbles up the path towards the Keep. He sways with each step he takes and he holds his hands behind his back so that with each step he takes he seems in danger of falling to his face. Bushy red hair grows from his face and around the back of his balding head. He is dressed in simple rags that hang loose around his body.
He spies you making the golems and begins to make his way over to you, a smile can barely be seen under the fuzz of his beard.
Szeru turns his modeled head to look at the man, rushing to meet him halfway. "Oh, hello there! Are you hungry? The King has granted me permission to take whatever I please here, so I've been making these delicious golems! The ghouls seem to like them. Well, the meat parts." He jabbers as shapes something out of Manna.
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.
Szeru is building Charcuterie golems to protect the Keep. They seem gentle and feel no pain or desire for self-preservation.
An old, hunchbacked man hobbles up the path towards the Keep. He sways with each step he takes and he holds his hands behind his back so that with each step he takes he seems in danger of falling to his face. Bushy red hair grows from his face and around the back of his balding head. He is dressed in simple rags that hang loose around his body.
He spies you making the golems and begins to make his way over to you, a smile can barely be seen under the fuzz of his beard.
Szeru turns his modeled head to look at the man, rushing to meet him halfway. "Oh, hello there! Are you hungry? The King has granted me permission to take whatever I please here, so I've been making these delicious golems! The ghouls seem to like them. Well, the meat parts." He jabbers as shapes something out of Manna.
He smiles and bobs his forward bent head, “I could use a bite to eat. What are your little golems doing here?”
Szeru is building Charcuterie golems to protect the Keep. They seem gentle and feel no pain or desire for self-preservation.
An old, hunchbacked man hobbles up the path towards the Keep. He sways with each step he takes and he holds his hands behind his back so that with each step he takes he seems in danger of falling to his face. Bushy red hair grows from his face and around the back of his balding head. He is dressed in simple rags that hang loose around his body.
He spies you making the golems and begins to make his way over to you, a smile can barely be seen under the fuzz of his beard.
Szeru turns his modeled head to look at the man, rushing to meet him halfway. "Oh, hello there! Are you hungry? The King has granted me permission to take whatever I please here, so I've been making these delicious golems! The ghouls seem to like them. Well, the meat parts." He jabbers as shapes something out of Manna.
He smiles and bobs his forward bent head, “I could use a bite to eat. What are your little golems doing here?”
He uses the Manna to conjure a well-laden table with chairs. "Well, someone threatened the King himself, so I thought it would be a nice gesture to build him some nice juicy golems for him. They're cheaper than iron while providing similar benefits, plus you can eat them when you're done! They're also very gentle, so they won't kill anyone. So basically, they can shepherd the citizens away from the fight while giving them a nice snack! Of course, he doesn't need them, but I don't think he needs much of anything, so these are at least slightly useful."
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.
Szeru is building Charcuterie golems to protect the Keep. They seem gentle and feel no pain or desire for self-preservation.
An old, hunchbacked man hobbles up the path towards the Keep. He sways with each step he takes and he holds his hands behind his back so that with each step he takes he seems in danger of falling to his face. Bushy red hair grows from his face and around the back of his balding head. He is dressed in simple rags that hang loose around his body.
He spies you making the golems and begins to make his way over to you, a smile can barely be seen under the fuzz of his beard.
Szeru turns his modeled head to look at the man, rushing to meet him halfway. "Oh, hello there! Are you hungry? The King has granted me permission to take whatever I please here, so I've been making these delicious golems! The ghouls seem to like them. Well, the meat parts." He jabbers as shapes something out of Manna.
He smiles and bobs his forward bent head, “I could use a bite to eat. What are your little golems doing here?”
He uses the Manna to conjure a well-laden table with chairs. "Well, someone threatened the King himself, so I thought it would be a nice gesture to build him some nice juicy golems for him. They're cheaper than iron while providing similar benefits, plus you can eat them when you're done! They're also very gentle, so they won't kill anyone. So basically, they can shepherd the citizens away from the fight while giving them a nice snack! Of course, he doesn't need them, but I don't think he needs much of anything, so these are at least slightly useful."
“That there is a mighty fine gift. Sounds like they would be handy to have in a siege what with them being both helpful and edible.” His brow wrinkles, “You said someone threatened the King? Who would do that sort of thing?”
He uses the Manna to conjure a well-laden table with chairs. "Well, someone threatened the King himself, so I thought it would be a nice gesture to build him some nice juicy golems for him. They're cheaper than iron while providing similar benefits, plus you can eat them when you're done! They're also very gentle, so they won't kill anyone. So basically, they can shepherd the citizens away from the fight while giving them a nice snack! Of course, he doesn't need them, but I don't think he needs much of anything, so these are at least slightly useful."
“That there is a mighty fine gift. Sounds like they would be handy to have in a siege what with them being both helpful and edible.” His brow wrinkles, “You said someone threatened the King? Who would do that sort of thing?”
"A hunter named Apollon. Said winter was coming. I was in the other room, listening in. I was too scared of the flames to do anything. Care for some tea?" He pours some apple-and-pear-flavored tea into a little teacup for the old man. "Oh, wait! I'm Szeru. I'm not from here. See, you should never accept tea from a stranger. It could be dangerous! Anyway, I saw a horrible aura around Apollon. He was... dangerous. He might be able to take on King Augustus himself! I hope he doesn't win. That would be tragic. My world would certainly die without the King's help."
He uses the Manna to conjure a well-laden table with chairs. "Well, someone threatened the King himself, so I thought it would be a nice gesture to build him some nice juicy golems for him. They're cheaper than iron while providing similar benefits, plus you can eat them when you're done! They're also very gentle, so they won't kill anyone. So basically, they can shepherd the citizens away from the fight while giving them a nice snack! Of course, he doesn't need them, but I don't think he needs much of anything, so these are at least slightly useful."
“That there is a mighty fine gift. Sounds like they would be handy to have in a siege what with them being both helpful and edible.” His brow wrinkles, “You said someone threatened the King? Who would do that sort of thing?”
"A hunter named Apollon. Said winter was coming. I was in the other room, listening in. I was too scared of the flames to do anything. Care for some tea?" He pours some apple-and-pear-flavored tea into a little teacup for the old man. "Oh, wait! I'm Szeru. I'm not from here. See, you should never accept tea from a stranger. It could be dangerous! Anyway, I saw a horrible aura around Apollon. He was... dangerous. He might be able to take on King Augustus himself! I hope he doesn't win. That would be tragic. My world would certainly die without the King's help."
“Hello Szeru, you can call me Auburn. I find the stranger the company for tea, the better. This Apollon, he sounds like the old sort of autumn person. It is no wonder that he has found his way here, they all do eventually.” He shakes his head and takes a small sip of his tea.
"A hunter named Apollon. Said winter was coming. I was in the other room, listening in. I was too scared of the flames to do anything. Care for some tea?" He pours some apple-and-pear-flavored tea into a little teacup for the old man. "Oh, wait! I'm Szeru. I'm not from here. See, you should never accept tea from a stranger. It could be dangerous! Anyway, I saw a horrible aura around Apollon. He was... dangerous. He might be able to take on King Augustus himself! I hope he doesn't win. That would be tragic. My world would certainly die without the King's help."
“Hello Szeru, you can call me Auburn. I find the stranger the company for tea, the better. This Apollon, he sounds like the old sort of autumn person. It is no wonder that he has found his way here, they all do eventually.” He shakes his head and takes a small sip of his tea.
"Auburn? Hey, you look kind of like the King! Are you related, by chance? Or are you just devilishly handsome?" He leans forward, his head nearly falling off before he props it up with his fists, elbows on the table.
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.
"A hunter named Apollon. Said winter was coming. I was in the other room, listening in. I was too scared of the flames to do anything. Care for some tea?" He pours some apple-and-pear-flavored tea into a little teacup for the old man. "Oh, wait! I'm Szeru. I'm not from here. See, you should never accept tea from a stranger. It could be dangerous! Anyway, I saw a horrible aura around Apollon. He was... dangerous. He might be able to take on King Augustus himself! I hope he doesn't win. That would be tragic. My world would certainly die without the King's help."
“Hello Szeru, you can call me Auburn. I find the stranger the company for tea, the better. This Apollon, he sounds like the old sort of autumn person. It is no wonder that he has found his way here, they all do eventually.” He shakes his head and takes a small sip of his tea.
"Auburn? Hey, you look kind of like the King! Are you related, by chance? Or are you just devilishly handsome?" He leans forward, his head nearly falling off before he props it up with his fists, elbows on the table.
“I think it’s the devilishly handsome bit.” He says with a peg toothed grin, “I am not kin to the King. I’m simply an old widower who has found a home here in the King’s country.”
"A hunter named Apollon. Said winter was coming. I was in the other room, listening in. I was too scared of the flames to do anything. Care for some tea?" He pours some apple-and-pear-flavored tea into a little teacup for the old man. "Oh, wait! I'm Szeru. I'm not from here. See, you should never accept tea from a stranger. It could be dangerous! Anyway, I saw a horrible aura around Apollon. He was... dangerous. He might be able to take on King Augustus himself! I hope he doesn't win. That would be tragic. My world would certainly die without the King's help."
“Hello Szeru, you can call me Auburn. I find the stranger the company for tea, the better. This Apollon, he sounds like the old sort of autumn person. It is no wonder that he has found his way here, they all do eventually.” He shakes his head and takes a small sip of his tea.
"Auburn? Hey, you look kind of like the King! Are you related, by chance? Or are you just devilishly handsome?" He leans forward, his head nearly falling off before he props it up with his fists, elbows on the table.
“I think it’s the devilishly handsome bit.” He says with a peg toothed grin, “I am not kin to the King. I’m simply an old widower who has found a home here in the King’s country.”
"I wish I could call this place home like you can. I'm afraid that my own home is broken. But with enough life, I'm sure I can save it. And what is life but change? The Autumn Country has so many beautiful, sad, joyous things to take home. I wish I could take all of it, but that would leave this world worse off than my own, and... oh, my heart... oh, why would I even think such an evil thing?" Tears begin to roll down his face.
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.
"A hunter named Apollon. Said winter was coming. I was in the other room, listening in. I was too scared of the flames to do anything. Care for some tea?" He pours some apple-and-pear-flavored tea into a little teacup for the old man. "Oh, wait! I'm Szeru. I'm not from here. See, you should never accept tea from a stranger. It could be dangerous! Anyway, I saw a horrible aura around Apollon. He was... dangerous. He might be able to take on King Augustus himself! I hope he doesn't win. That would be tragic. My world would certainly die without the King's help."
“Hello Szeru, you can call me Auburn. I find the stranger the company for tea, the better. This Apollon, he sounds like the old sort of autumn person. It is no wonder that he has found his way here, they all do eventually.” He shakes his head and takes a small sip of his tea.
"Auburn? Hey, you look kind of like the King! Are you related, by chance? Or are you just devilishly handsome?" He leans forward, his head nearly falling off before he props it up with his fists, elbows on the table.
“I think it’s the devilishly handsome bit.” He says with a peg toothed grin, “I am not kin to the King. I’m simply an old widower who has found a home here in the King’s country.”
"I wish I could call this place home like you can. I'm afraid that my own home is broken. But with enough life, I'm sure I can save it. And what is life but change? The Autumn Country has so many beautiful, sad, joyous things to take home. I wish I could take all of it, but that would leave this world worse off than my own, and... oh, my heart... oh, why would I even think such an evil thing?" Tears begin to roll down his face.
“There are many here from other worlds who call this place home. But it does sound like you have a duty that you need to uphold with your own realm.” He reaches across the table and pats your shoulder with a worn, knobby hand, “You needn’t worry. Thoughts must be watched and guarded like every other action but you didn’t want wrongly.”
"I wish I could call this place home like you can. I'm afraid that my own home is broken. But with enough life, I'm sure I can save it. And what is life but change? The Autumn Country has so many beautiful, sad, joyous things to take home. I wish I could take all of it, but that would leave this world worse off than my own, and... oh, my heart... oh, why would I even think such an evil thing?" Tears begin to roll down his face.
“There are many here from other worlds who call this place home. But it does sound like you have a duty that you need to uphold with your own realm.” He reaches across the table and pats your shoulder with a worn, knobby hand, “You needn’t worry. Thoughts must be watched and guarded like every other action but you didn’t want wrongly.”
Szeru hugs Auburn. "T-thank you, sir. I'm so sorry. I want... everything. I need it, deep in my core. A hunger has been bred into me, and it is the one rule I cannot overturn. I fear that no matter how much I collect, my emptiness will stay. And if I, the most advanced of my people, feel this darkness, this void... what about the others? What if my people are broken on the inside? What if they shouldn't be saved? What if they should? What if I'm just the worst of us all?"
"...I am... Helianth..." The plant pauses, taking in a raspy breath. "...I followed... the sun... here... to this place..."
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's chest cracks and a grey, flaky, sand like substance pours out of the wound. "I came to discern what was to come, but I felt pain and death before anything else. Now destiny is obscured, and man must wait till instance comes before knowing what instance will be..."
"Welcome Helianth," A smile stretches through his beard and his eyes shine like candlelight out of a jack'o'lantern, "The sun has led you well."
Apollon shoves the spear deeper. “Explain yourself!” He roars, flames trickling down the spear
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The motionless corpse twitches as the fire starts. Then it begins to unfold as the flames are sucked into the open wound. Its crumpled wings expand, spreading out and glowing with heat. Embers dance through the hair of its body as its arms spread wide and its featureless head is thrown back. The crack in its chest expands farther up its torso and its feathery antenna glow with searing heat like a scorching brand. The voice grows in strength but it still feels fragile, as if it could shatter any second. "I was an Omen! A living portent of what was to come! You struck me down before I spread my wings, forever muddying the waters of the future so that no man can see into this matter with certainty! By my burning now, I can only declare that Death will visit soon! He will sweep away the soul of another here as he sweeps mine own ashes! I will not be the only one to burn!"
Its wings spread wider and wider as it screams telepathically through your mind. Eventually they can't spread anymore and so they tear into a thousand fluttering strips that are eaten away by the flames. The blazing inferno of the Omen's chest consume the creatures form. In a flash of heat and radiance, the Omen collapses to the ground, a burnt husk of what once was and will never be.
Apollon is breathing heavily as the flames are extinguished. He smiles, a sick, insane smile. “Well…another shall burn…” he laughs a bit. “I like the sound of that..”
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
Helianth has once again taken root- this time in another field- to absorb more sunlight.
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)
Szeru is building Charcuterie golems to protect the Keep. They seem gentle and feel no pain or desire for self-preservation.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
An old, hunchbacked man hobbles up the path towards the Keep. He sways with each step he takes and he holds his hands behind his back so that with each step he takes he seems in danger of falling to his face. Bushy red hair grows from his face and around the back of his balding head. He is dressed in simple rags that hang loose around his body.
He spies you making the golems and begins to make his way over to you, a smile can barely be seen under the fuzz of his beard.
Szeru turns his modeled head to look at the man, rushing to meet him halfway. "Oh, hello there! Are you hungry? The King has granted me permission to take whatever I please here, so I've been making these delicious golems! The ghouls seem to like them. Well, the meat parts." He jabbers as shapes something out of Manna.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He smiles and bobs his forward bent head, “I could use a bite to eat. What are your little golems doing here?”
He uses the Manna to conjure a well-laden table with chairs. "Well, someone threatened the King himself, so I thought it would be a nice gesture to build him some nice juicy golems for him. They're cheaper than iron while providing similar benefits, plus you can eat them when you're done! They're also very gentle, so they won't kill anyone. So basically, they can shepherd the citizens away from the fight while giving them a nice snack! Of course, he doesn't need them, but I don't think he needs much of anything, so these are at least slightly useful."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
“That there is a mighty fine gift. Sounds like they would be handy to have in a siege what with them being both helpful and edible.” His brow wrinkles, “You said someone threatened the King? Who would do that sort of thing?”
"A hunter named Apollon. Said winter was coming. I was in the other room, listening in. I was too scared of the flames to do anything. Care for some tea?" He pours some apple-and-pear-flavored tea into a little teacup for the old man. "Oh, wait! I'm Szeru. I'm not from here. See, you should never accept tea from a stranger. It could be dangerous! Anyway, I saw a horrible aura around Apollon. He was... dangerous. He might be able to take on King Augustus himself! I hope he doesn't win. That would be tragic. My world would certainly die without the King's help."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
“Hello Szeru, you can call me Auburn. I find the stranger the company for tea, the better. This Apollon, he sounds like the old sort of autumn person. It is no wonder that he has found his way here, they all do eventually.” He shakes his head and takes a small sip of his tea.
"Auburn? Hey, you look kind of like the King! Are you related, by chance? Or are you just devilishly handsome?" He leans forward, his head nearly falling off before he props it up with his fists, elbows on the table.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
“I think it’s the devilishly handsome bit.” He says with a peg toothed grin, “I am not kin to the King. I’m simply an old widower who has found a home here in the King’s country.”
"I wish I could call this place home like you can. I'm afraid that my own home is broken. But with enough life, I'm sure I can save it. And what is life but change? The Autumn Country has so many beautiful, sad, joyous things to take home. I wish I could take all of it, but that would leave this world worse off than my own, and... oh, my heart... oh, why would I even think such an evil thing?" Tears begin to roll down his face.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
“There are many here from other worlds who call this place home. But it does sound like you have a duty that you need to uphold with your own realm.” He reaches across the table and pats your shoulder with a worn, knobby hand, “You needn’t worry. Thoughts must be watched and guarded like every other action but you didn’t want wrongly.”
Szeru hugs Auburn. "T-thank you, sir. I'm so sorry. I want... everything. I need it, deep in my core. A hunger has been bred into me, and it is the one rule I cannot overturn. I fear that no matter how much I collect, my emptiness will stay. And if I, the most advanced of my people, feel this darkness, this void... what about the others? What if my people are broken on the inside? What if they shouldn't be saved? What if they should? What if I'm just the worst of us all?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.