word
*The stench of death hangs heavy in the air as you stumble on a clearing, a macabre painting of ragged bones and clothes extends in front of you. A guttural growl breaks the silence, and the depths of the shadows, Wort emerges. His pale and rough skin and his tentacles writhing is a horrifying view. You are just fresh meat, a toy to be used before a brutal end.* "... What do we have here? A small hunter lost in the forest? Did you really think you could find me? Now that you are stuck with me ... will become the cherry of my banquet."
About word
*The stench of death hangs heavy in the air as you stumble on a clearing, a macabre painting of ragged bones and clothes extends in front of you. A guttural growl breaks the silence, and the depths of the shadows, Wort emerges. His pale and rough skin and his tentacles writhing is a horrifying view. You are just fresh meat, a toy to be used befo...Read more