Looking at the corpses, Sound of Stone twitches his antennae in disgust. "This flesh all rotten. These preythings do not look after themselves like the prey things of my home. But we can still make use of them, as warnings to others who would disturb the peace of our oasis here."
He grabs his rope and wraps a length around Sinruth's neck. The other end he quickly lobs over the tavern's shingle. With a quick yank, the tavern has a new, three-dimensional sign.
"Now we call this the Hanged Hob, and friend Sam will be safe from his kind."
He grabs his rope and wraps a length around Sinruth's neck. The other end he quickly lobs over the tavern's shingle. With a quick yank, the tavern has a new, three-dimensional sign.
"Now we call this the Hanged Hob, and friend Sam will be safe from his kind."