Forged and broke in goreful plight Won some, lost some, still upright

"We don't think much of ants, 'til they're the size of houses and burnin' down the forests. The desert is our home... and we're losin' that, too."

100 likes for fishnets.

I got some mead, y'want some mead?

I don't think so???

eh ye don't seem that bad.

Verone snatched up the cheese and stuffed it into her mouth. Some unintelligible garbage slipped from her lips from a poor attempt at communication, and then she swallowed and cleared her throat. "'m not from 'round these parts, 'm from a lil' village on 'nother chunk of dirt. Left after I got

"S'that why yer eyes are feckin' glowin'?" she questioned, leaning uncomfortably close to him and his radiant eyes.

There was no arguing to be done with that. She numbly grabbed her drink and downed it as fast as she could, then gestured for another from the bartender. Aside from the haunted look in her eyes, she hadn't done or moved much in the last few moments. "Why ye huntin' angels?" she managed.

Sundrinker's immense, mountain-like form flashed through her mind, along with the screams of dozens and dozens of villages, towns, and a few dozen cities; columns of fire that reached up into the heavens, and the feeling of metal crunching between her teeth, her talons, crushed under her weight,

"The feck is an angel?" Verone sputtered, then coughed.

"Well I'll jus' tell ye whatever ye wanna know!" Verone all but shouted, then hiccuped. "What's- what ye wanna know in the world?" And then she realized, she wasn't quite sure what world she was on. She looked around the tavern, but didn't see anything that would be an immediate identifier.

"Bad things that need slayin'?" she looked back at him, her voice now eager. "Slayin' that pays money? Ye got any of that? About the only thing I'm good fer, slayin' things."

"What ye mean? Yer brains hurtin' too?" she glanced back at him curiously. "Mighty nice of ye to lend me yer cloak... not many—well, not ever—somethin' that someone'd done fer me before."

"Cuz everyone talks when they're drunk!" she exclaimed, putting two and two together only after an extended silence.

"Why, y'got a little time left 'n that's it?" Verone thought about the married comment, but it just made her giggle.

@sundrinker.sunder.my

"Can't think of a sadder life than that," she frowned into her drink. "So no one loves ye?"

@tangledfates.bsky.social who the feck are ye?

That's one of the kinder things someone's done for her, and she has absolutely no idea how to deal with that. After an intense four second debate, she sat down on it. "Well m'health is fine... mostly my brains that's hurt."

"What's 'prosit' mean? Ye like sittin'?" she took her goblet and belched loudly, then hugged it to her chest so she didn't accidentally drop it.

|| just trying to find and follow more fantasy people!

Thrusting a goblet of mead at him. "Drink up!"

"Ye just... pass by me..." Verone's single eye narrowed at him. "That's sad? Why ye don't wanna be remembered? Or do ye?"

"Yer way nicer than the last few people I met," she hiccuped, then leaned against the countertop. "Have we met??"

The one-eyed warrior knocked back as much as she could, getting more of it on her armor and face than she did in her mouth. Her stool tipped over violently and she windmilled her arms.

Verone threw her arms up and roared. "AYE! POUR ME ONE, BLUE GUY!"

"I'm gonna get feckin' drunk, WHO'S WITH ME?!"

aye... forgot what I was doin'.

ye don't even know...

Ye gotta be careful in her old age, Percy

"Da hell is fiber?"

"Mhm, and how do YOU poop?"

They're everywhere and most of them are dumb 'n pretendin' to be smart!

"Why are ye?"

"Depends on the questions ye ask."

nothin' like askin' pointless questions to make a wizard mad.

The Knight sat down outside an inn, a bag of filthy silver coins landing on the cobblestone beside her. "Botched another job, and for what? To get drunk off your ass until you can't talk anymore?" Verone looked up at him but said nothing, her single eye darting back to the ground and then to the

who up ponderin' their orbs

If someone starts t'chew on me I'm gonna feckin' stab 'em thru the chin.

shoe IS a fancy word fer boot.

Oh, ye wanna learn more?

oh shite

bitches love swearin' obviously

Girl acts like she's never heard some swearin' before.

DOES THE BOOT FIT?

[turning around abruptly] THE FECK DID YE SAY T'ME?

[drinking an entire tankard of ale]

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