Vrak Deadhand, the Indomitable Knave, after slaying a gracious Drawurm Demon.
The hunt for the scourging serpent was arduously appalling but spectacular nonetheless. The hired muscle of the Indomitable Goblin Mutant carved and mauled through the scales of the ornate ophidian, its head severed, perfect for the triumphant posing. Immortalized & framed, now he only needed to hang it on his manor, once one of the Hunters in the group painted it from memory. The inscription on the frame reciting the words that echoed in the dunes by twilight in the Dismal Lands.
"Lick your blades, brothers. Turn your faces towards the skies! Take the blood, pick the bones, clip the claws and the horns! You'll live to prowl Phobos another day, dear wretches! Let's haul this gracious fiend and lay it on the Butcher's table! He'll make a fortune out of it!"
Shouted the Sanguine Belial, gazing at the coming dawn, right on queue for their retreat to the citadel. Flag dyed in his blood for the wardens of the walls to recognize them as the caravan of the Butcher's Company, returning from work.
You may ask "who is he posing for?". The answer is a dozen exhausted Hunters that did most of the killing. Not for nothing, his weapons are pristine and not stained.
. . . Art by @theterrornaut
