goatunit
Explorer
Eurid lets the urn go, setting his hands on his hips and watching it bob about overhead. When he hears the message, he shakes his head. Barmy deaders always chuffle the blankest screed.
"Indecipherable gibberish," he complains. "So you're not Toma's ghost, then. That's well and good. Doesn't hook me to nothing, and I'll on-my-way and you'll with the urn bit. But put an ear on this, afore you hit the blinds: Don't go around tossing accusations that us tieflings eat babies. Don't know what a plastic is and don't..."
He trails off as the fairy and satyr appear. What's the Hive Ward coming to?
"Indecipherable gibberish," he complains. "So you're not Toma's ghost, then. That's well and good. Doesn't hook me to nothing, and I'll on-my-way and you'll with the urn bit. But put an ear on this, afore you hit the blinds: Don't go around tossing accusations that us tieflings eat babies. Don't know what a plastic is and don't..."
He trails off as the fairy and satyr appear. What's the Hive Ward coming to?