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Mint Cascade
bc57ed
>>97868
I pull out my eye, carefully, and unfasten my ear. While the sensory organs are in my head the ear is still connected to them psuedomagically, much like the eye to my optical nerve.
Using the hat to send my hand, holding both, over the camp, I observe what I feared.
A large force of mongrels, easily twice if not three times the size of the group at Raven's Loft. Three stand out in particular.
The first I notice is old, leaning on a long, warped stick. A small human skull hangs from it, joined with a Seeran skull, an Ogre's horn, and a shriveled square of heartwood from a Chloronoid. His free hand is warped like the staff, heavily mutated, a haze of magic hanging around it ominously.
Beside the older mongrel sits a taller, stronger one with white hair and glowing red eyes. It has wide shoulders, and longer than usual hair. Some of this is braided, and the braids end in decorations much like the one that hang from the older one's cane. Only he has kobold, dwarf, and elf skulls as well, and a young dragon's skull serves as a helmet. On his hips rest two axes, huge and serrated and as savage as his own face. He is easily taller than most of the tents.
The third is the most disturbing. Lean as bone and in between the other two in terms of height, he is armed with two long cleavers, and both glow softly with power. This is frightening: An enchant,ent on a weapon is not usually noticable. For it to glow like this, it has to be something... dangerous. But even worse are his features. Slightly warped in every facet, one eye a bright gold and the other a dull blue, his snout turning upwards oddly, one ear longer than the other, a horn protruding oddly from where his shoulder meets his neck. His shoulders are knotted like old oak, his hands facing the wrong way, with longer claws than apparently normal,as scars on his palms indicate.
And on his left breast is deep, black scar, of a mask, split into smiling laughter and frowning tears.
The symbol of the Clown.
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