Cherubim

Tales had been chased many times before, the more fanciful they were lain out or spun upon another’s tongue the more they snared his focus and drew fixation. There was always a sense of wonder over if what they spoke lay true. From beasts, ghouls, and trickster spirits to merely soothing the mind of a vexed betrothed; the call of coin could convince one to look past a great many things. Sure such tasks didn’t always produce the most profitable returns - especially when those who posted the bounty attempted to swindle or barter, picked at particular aspects that had not been mentioned prior - but the thrill of it all often times made up for another’s cheapness. Besides if a pretty face was behind it all, well, that could drum up its own form of reward if the cards were played right.

However, this particular venture likely harbored neither. No promise of glittering jewels, no clink of coin to clatter upon wood, not even the enchanting presence of promised company. Blind profit, blind reward - if there was any to be had at all. In the end maybe the chance at a good ghost story would be enough to earn a few drinks or a free meal at the tavern next he visited. For now a mind lay fixed upon the whispers of a foreign land as paws carried him further than the rickety ships could alone, delving further into this unknown world than he ever had before. Glimpsing structures reminiscent of his homeland before they all faded away, the landscape swallowed my expansive meadows and crumbling stone.

Ever shifting from shadowed forests to the dampness of a swamp where footing was harder kept. Surely it was here that the rumors had spoken of, that the whispers for eradication had risen over whatever ‘plagued’ these walls. Stories he was keen to believe from all he’d encountered in the past and yet such twisted beings were rarely glimpsed since coming to this realm; and so, there lingered a whisper of doubt. One he tried hard to banish with nothing more than a short sigh fleeing his lips. There was but one way to discover the truth or deceit of it all and that was to step beyond the threshold and witness it for himself. With a quick glance around Kavir’s tail swayed with the motion of his hips, slipping beneath the mossy overhang of a broken structure.

Rolling hollow 1d10: 4
Drifting along the water’s edge you get the feeling of eyes upon you. Though no matter how swiftly you look toward the depths you’re left with nothing but a glimpse of something disappearing beneath that rippling surface.

Old wives tales and spooky stories never once swayed his decision to make those observations himself, not even as he trekked along the muddy ground and deeper into the Hallows. Many swore against it, but the scent in the air proved that someone other than him lingered in the depths as well. Despite the retched scent of muck and foul, he continued on, eager to find who else did not allow the stories to shake their core. Weaving under the occasional branch, Ambrose was quiet and careful not to lose his footing that the mud desired to lay claim to. Soaked up to the ankle in grime and dirt, he cared not to clean himself off just yet.

It wasn't long before his new company came into view, a far brighter color then he with way more depth in his coat. It was captivating and he was careful to make himself known as he closed the distance on the stranger.

With only a hum to notify the other of his presence, salmon colored eyes would drift to the rippling water while his brow lifted slightly. Odd. They seemed t be the only two, or so he thought, but Ambrose made it a point to keep an eye on the oddly behaved water. "Did you notice anyone else here?" He questioned with his gaze still lingering on the water's surface, determined to find what was the cause of the ruckus.

code // art

Rotting Fiend

Scraping hooves grate harshly in your ears as a skeletal figure lurches through the passageways, limbs hardly lifting with each unbalanced step. Fixation upon the beast reveals little yet perhaps all too much at the same time for it is hard to discern just what this is. An amalgamation of predator and prey: tattered lips giving way to a show of fangs while an impressive rack adorns its crown. Forepaws possess the click of talons yet hinds gouge the earth in the split toes of a deer. Whatever this is, it has sensed your presence. Displeasure toward your intrusion evident in the flash of stained canines before antlers turn in your direction.

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There are two options for this encounter, Fight or Flee!

To engage with the monster please post in #updates.

To run simply post as normal to evade the beast and continue on with your thread. Any creature spawned after the first can be ignored entirely if desired.

Beast Engaged
The Rotting Fiend starts with 55 hp!
After both participants have posted the Ghoul will randomly attack one of them.
You may flee from the creature at any time.

Fiend HP: 55
No guild/pack bonus
Weaponry: fangs, hooves, claws, antlers