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I know it was mentioned before, but I've just got to say it again, with the next round of updates to title, can we please get Poisoner. That is all
I'll make you my wench when you lose all that fur... 'til then, you are just a flirt.
~Blood Wraith Elec
You hear the distant echo of a savage Horde snarling in barbaric disapproval of your deeds.
"Even In Your Darkest, Most Hellish Nightmares You Are Safe. But In Reality, Night Always Falls, And There In The Shadows, I Wait."
~Blood Wraith Elec
You hear the distant echo of a savage Horde snarling in barbaric disapproval of your deeds.
"Even In Your Darkest, Most Hellish Nightmares You Are Safe. But In Reality, Night Always Falls, And There In The Shadows, I Wait."
Well, this is all I could think of when I read "fur" and "bar wench". If you're just a really furry dwarf, than, hah.
Bar Wench Prydaen?
You gaze at a sickly looking creature, matted with beer and peanuts cheerfully strung throughout its mane. Tongue bitten between its teeth in some unnatural attempt at being desired. One eye half closed from a fall it of course won't remember, still it comes upon you, caressing your clenched fist. Taken aback by your frightened and disgusted demeanor, it moves to another drunkard. Yet another beating, yet another stool.
A bar wench Prydaen advances toward you!
> hangback
You find yourself against a wall, able to retreat no further.
[Roundtime: 2 secs, 1 secs. Panic!]
> disarm wench blind
> Closing your eyes you raise your stool and mercilessly cast it down, strike after strike!
A bar wench Prydaen clutches your pant leg!
It just wants to be accepted..
> look wench
You search this thing for humanity, finding nothing but matting and swatches of stained rug it must've collected for itself over the years.
> help wench
You raise your crossbow slightly and let the bolt fly!
"Purrlurlurlur, meowkittens" and ceases all movement.
Bar Wench Prydaen?
You gaze at a sickly looking creature, matted with beer and peanuts cheerfully strung throughout its mane. Tongue bitten between its teeth in some unnatural attempt at being desired. One eye half closed from a fall it of course won't remember, still it comes upon you, caressing your clenched fist. Taken aback by your frightened and disgusted demeanor, it moves to another drunkard. Yet another beating, yet another stool.
A bar wench Prydaen advances toward you!
> hangback
You find yourself against a wall, able to retreat no further.
[Roundtime: 2 secs, 1 secs. Panic!]
> disarm wench blind
> Closing your eyes you raise your stool and mercilessly cast it down, strike after strike!
A bar wench Prydaen clutches your pant leg!
It just wants to be accepted..
> look wench
You search this thing for humanity, finding nothing but matting and swatches of stained rug it must've collected for itself over the years.
> help wench
You raise your crossbow slightly and let the bolt fly!
"Purrlurlurlur, meowkittens" and ceases all movement.
