Level 10 - Holy Scrivener of Extreme Wit
The dual, muted voice called out it's siren wail across the dunes, '...Of course, no one as brilliant as yourself would ever enter the deeper desert without one of my extra light canteens. Why, I haven't seen anyone come out alive without them! If you act now I can give you the reduced price...'
Swarming, never-ending, sea of teeth, muscle, and scales. They are all pervasive, all consuming, and they will destroy you. Devouring body and soul. They are hatred and fear incarnate, a punishment from the foul and incomprehensible gods.
Legends claim that in the far south, men made of ice roam…