Skaven Slave
Paradoxical Pacifism
Clan Rictus
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Hakal looked on towards the diverging passageways, each one of them ending in darkness. He had grown accustomed to darkness' feel whenever it enshrouds upon him, and when he couldn't sense or predict where harm may appear. The skink friends of his past nourished his bravery, and yet it was these same lizards who belittled him from the dark earlier.
In Hakal's entire life of fighting, he never truly found anything more terrifying than the nothingness that is the dark.
So was the kroxigor's heart shaken when looking on, he decided to stick with his skink priest comrades, his bulky form siding along with them.
Hakal's heart flickered with warmth as he did so. His lizard kin right beside him.
Yet he still looked on as though each of the darkened passageways had their own voices taunting and beckoning them to come forth...
In Hakal's entire life of fighting, he never truly found anything more terrifying than the nothingness that is the dark.
So was the kroxigor's heart shaken when looking on, he decided to stick with his skink priest comrades, his bulky form siding along with them.
Hakal's heart flickered with warmth as he did so. His lizard kin right beside him.
Yet he still looked on as though each of the darkened passageways had their own voices taunting and beckoning them to come forth...
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