Yes, yes, but you can hardly put that on a business card, can you? Now, I can't seem to just toss you away even though you seem to be trapped in this blade. I am the void between the stars, the beckoning oblivion at the end of all things, the devourer of reality, warper of souls, master of time and space, matterr and mind. But if you are finally capable of hearing my words, than the distinction is a pointless one. I'm quite sure the voice is growing a little loud. Now, however am I supposed to deal with that, hm? As distressingly routine as this tear-in-reality business is becoming, I would have preferred to avoid any further oddness.Īh. You know, I'm almost certain I heard some sort of voice this time. I suppose they're more religious than I gave them credit for, in their own horrid, monstrous, foreign way. I'm still not entirely sure why they always seem to be followed by so many priests. Honestly, what are the odds of finding two traveling orc raiding parties in a place like this? Honour and so forth) when I wandered into another group of orcs. I had only just given them a sound stabbing and a few sharpened stone blocks to the vital organs (after waking them, of course. That man with the scythe seemed dangerous enough already - and, judging by the mass of gore about him, hostile - but then fate saw it fit to add an impossibly oversized insect to the mix. I suppose it may just be my imagination, but the situation does seem to be worsening with unreasonable haste.
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