Foolish Claims And Children’s Games

[Acosmism]

All such notices would be available for practically anyone, with a hotspot for Crookback in particular. Their original wend, the sewers, had dispersed into an unknown path which was now strewn about in hasty fashion. The ink which splattered across the page in messy cursive was a painfully obvious indicator of its author's frustration.

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Some rather unfortunate news has been brought to my doorstep that I am now obligated to address, thanks to a gaggle of giggling geese who thought it wise to attempt to ruin my reputation. I have come now to set these accusations straight and put the gossiping gaggle back in their place. Unfortunately, I must do so on paper, as those who whisper behind my back fail to ask me about it to my face because they are blatant cowards. So here you are, the easy way out.

On the night of the twelfth day of January, 309 years beyond the Cataclysm, I, the Droseraceae, and our allies all went on a grand hunt. It was a traditional Dorkarthian sporting hunt, you see. It was quite lovely, and I can assure you all who participated had nothing but praises for me after the event had concluded, for it was quite masterfully strewn together. Among the "victims" of this hunt were two alleged "children." One with nine years of age, the other eighteen. This is where the rumor pops in to play it's little lying role.

These two children had come down to my abode the night before, demanding to be let in. I let them inside, but upon entering they had rushed straight into my cells where they proceeded to stay. When I demanded they leave, they wouldn't budge. So naturally, I allowed them to stay for a single day. Right before the hunt commenced, I let them out. Simple as is.

Apparently the popular belief is that we did, in fact, hunt children. But this accusation is absurd. Any Sanguine willing to hunt a child is either tasteless or desperate, for they do not possess the right viscosity — moreover, they're not of a proper age yet to prove their worth and their role: a mundane, or an enlightened?

Thus concludes my boring explanation to an un-amusing claim made by toddlers whose tongues writhe in their mouths like restless serpents. Bite me, and I might just bite you back.

Upyr Mirabella Wymarc of the Athanasia Scion
The Dionaea Embrace of the Solifugae​

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[Magivore]

"Remarkably, I have had an exact situation happen thrice before, twice before I had this grandiose library of mine and lived only in a condemned sewer pipe. First it was a mother and her brood infant, then it was a lost student, then it was three mischief makers," the self-proclaimed Lich Lord confirmed with a slow chuckle to the interviewer. Awkwardly, those present laughed along, but it went dry the moment the creature no longer seemed so tickled about the topic. "Children seem to adore danger, and what better way to make their parents mad than playing in a place they should not be at all? Truthfully, it is the mother and father at fault more than the Upyress. I would be confused if the beasts and cultists do not too have this happen to them. At least the Sanguine of these days recognize now that there are no merits striking or harming a youngling."