Dec 24, 2015
🎁
“How about I get one sister an axe to the face, and the other one a nice pair of new lizard-skin boots? Two elves, one axe, or whatever that damn saying goes like.”
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🎁
“How about I get one sister an axe to the face, and the other one a nice pair of new lizard-skin boots? Two elves, one axe, or whatever that damn saying goes like.”
@jawsandarrows
The first time she’d wandered into a tavern in what felt like ages and Nimphaneth was faced with this hulk of a woman pondering the mysteries of mead. She was already sat at the bar and turned to gaze almost forlornly at her, a gaze that turned into something that read, is this woman actually alright,and she tried desperately not to be judgmental. She was failing, a lot.
“I’m not sure it has anything to do with their honey alcohol, mate. I think they just like bears.”
“Huh.” Zel offered a noncommittal shrug, scrutinizing the bottle in her hand as if it were some lost text to be deciphered, and some hidden truth were about to spill out of it. When none did, she apparently grew tired of waiting and took another sip.
“Makes sense,” she assessed. “If they’re as big as I’ve been told, that is. The bears, not the Nords. I’ve seen Nords. They’re not as big as I was told.”
Bed, wed, behead: Cuunel, Sontaire, Mitis
“Fuck you. Fuck you. And fuck you.”
Dakog looks poised to rise from his seat for a moment, but soon reclines with a snarl. “I’ll bed what I damn well please, behead what I damn well please, and did I mention fuck you yet?”