Wet_Roaches

pretty cool :)

this is gonna be epic

A still recent creation of unnatural flesh and vile Mass stared upon the little papers which lay upon the table. The Homunculoid looked on intently with its one massive eye for longer than need be. At that moment, the disgusting Creature realized something... It doesn't exactly know how to read yet. Too many big words.

do you snart

never fear! the cleaners are here! the spreading Rot shall not stop the triumphant march!

RESUME Name: Sancho Place Of Origin: Oren Background: Mercatorii Man who since birth has spent his time fishing and loving God. Proceeded to get kicked in the head hard enough he suffered minor head trauma, thus leaving behind the fishing life. Still praising God, though. Since that day he set forth in a nomadic lifestyle, settling with various associates and taking many jobs, often involving taking up arms. He often assisted his comrades in a few alchemical productions or helped venture into dangerous zones. Ended up losing his right hand during one of his jobs, spending ages getting used to the lack of hand. Eventually, he actually began to tie tools and weapons around his stump to help aid him in day-to-day life. He often used this to tend to the fields he worked in, sometimes even tying a blade or shield to the stump. Lived in a Shed for multiple years, took up arms again to fight for Oren. Offered 'Quality Green' herb to the Emperor of Oren (He declined.) Went missing from the Shed years later after walking into the Woods and vanishing. Hasn't been sighted until recent times, having visited various libraries and seeming to take a turn towards Owynist values. He's spent much of his time gaining an increasing fascination with Owyn's teachings, taking time to try and learn as much as possible before wandering off into the Wilderness as usual. Skillset: Sancho's been a fighter ever since he got kicked in the head and took on a new lifestyle. He's moderately capable with various weapons and tools, usually favoriting using a mace over all. Used to produce moonshine with his Mercatorii comrades along with assortments of other equipment and remedies used throughout their journeys. Sure it's been a while, but give him a weapon and he's sure to spring back to just how he used to be. Reason(s) For Enlistment: With his recently discovered desire to follow Owyn's teachings as best he can, along with his history of unrest and constant night terrors, he seeks to find peace by reforming and living a life dedicated to Owyn. His life has been a bit of a mess and he appears rather determined that serving will provide him with what he searches for.

A RAT was in the Middle of the Woods laying in the shrubs and listening to the trees. It gave a longing look to the Rot Docs as it proceeded To eat the paper. After the paper had been properly eaten and disposed of in his Gut, he looked around and pondered to himself. Did the Sun Just get bigger? Did it just get Bigger? This wasn't right... no, surely it didn't get Bigger. "It was all in my imagination!" He thought to himself, nodding affirmingly to his own statement. This was the Only logical explanation, after all. The Sun? Expanding? It was simply too far-fetched to be plausible. The Mouseman knew better than to believe that the Sun had just expanded. He knew what was, and what wasn't real. With confidence brimming and a relief washing over him, the Mouseman went and scurried away back into his Cave, off to make another crude invention that brings joy to him and his many friends. And so, the Mouse was happy.

A RAT was busy bathing in a puddle of mud finely given by the rains above. He stopped for but a moment, dropping to the mud a Bucket. "I must collect the rain." he silently uttered to himself, gaze slowly turning to the beautiful one-of-a-kind mouseman sized Bucket. "The man in the puddle commands it."

i remember when bipip bopoli punched me in the throat and then treated me and the crew to a feast, honestly gotta love his work

Brancho stroked at his newly grown beard which took him two whole minutes to grow, looking upon the oil covered note with joy in his rapidly aging heart. He sat down at the nearly broken chair of his mighty fine dining table and prepared to eat Jubstinian eggs that were gifted to him during the wonderous occasion of the Josalian Feast. As he began to devour the eggs as if they were the only form of sustenance he's ever had, he thought to himself about revisiting the beautiful lands of Jusstima.

Grancho swiftly scanned through the missive with haste as a smile quickly grew upon his face. The man set the notice of the Feast on his writing desk and dashed through his cabin in the great woods in order to gather together his things. "Tonight is gonna be splendid."

im wonking out right now

From within a dirty and dusty basement, a faintly raggedy musin worked away at mashing and crushing way too many herbs and shoving them in copious amounts of jars full of salt water. The critter paused from his work, waddling away to collect piles of notes and papers left by the giant door. As he quickly looked through all the papers, he deemed most to be complete junk and tossed them aside for the others to deal with. Just then, his little eyes squinted as he caught attention of one of the notes. As the lanky mouseman struggled to read through the note he abruptly stopped, eyesw widening. Only one word escaped from him: "Shit." At that, he spun around and scurried off to deliver the news to his friends and fellow musin.

ALL ABOUT THE MERCS BABY WOO THE MERCS GOTTA LOVE THE MERCS WOO YEA

A somewhat young Mercatorii man clenched the missive in a gloved hand, his clothes still covered in dust and soot of many colors from many lands. A smirk quickly grew across his face as he read it, tucking the missive into his pockets as he sat up in a dark, damp cavern. His head turned to the left, trudging towards numerous small barrels with a dwarven mace resting next to one of them. BIG Sancho hoisted up the mace in one hand, letting out a triumphant laugh in the claustrophobic cave which he dwelled within before making his way to the bright, open outdoors. It's time, once again.

Lint faintly struggled to read the notice, his patchy clothes still covered in the stench of old fruit and glue. His hand clenched into a fist, raising into the sky as he lifted his head to view the clouds above. "Magic is for Lessers!" He called out, "Science is for Musin!"

The aforementioned Big Sancho turned his head to face his comrade, nodding slowly. "Bai." He uttered. "Let us prepare what equipment we need to help in whatever ways we can."