Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-1536954-20180414204120/@comment-33521582-20180416231533

"Saal'y'xauk!"

The profanity comes from the leafy canopy close to the circle around the fire. Perched comfortably among the branches, Mal'caor looks down on the two Water Castes. He grins evily as he gnashes at the dried fish he holds in one hand, a staple in the diet of the Shas, since vegetables enough are not enough to sustain them for their duties.

In the darkness only pushed back by the fire below, wearing mismatched grey, brown, and green armour, the huntsman is little more than a disembodied face with two shining eyes looking down on the speakers. A grim looking weapon, long of barrel and with a worn stock, rests beside him.

"It's not just money, Ol'yi," he continues, "who exactly needs killing?"