Lines
Thank you, Vratko.
They were caked in blood.
Might have helped his… condition.
This thief you wear.
Such strange protrusions.
Now who’s the worthy one?
You honor me, Harbinger.
Like thorns.
I joke.
He hails from Mammon, doesn’t he?
It nourished all.
You're too kind.
Very clean now.
This brute does not deserve a bath.
This… is merely sheep’s milk.
Our enemies, no doubt.
I've polished his greaves, Harbinger.
This is my sacred duty.
Thank you, Vratko.
They would not fail us... not like the others.
But not me, of course.
I even got in between your toes.
He could have used more baths.
The rumors about your demeanor... are quite unfounded.
They say the Mether’s Milk once flowed through Fainweald.
You honor me, Harbinger.
I see you enjoy it too.
Very supple, but strong.
These are strong toes.
Ah, I remember bowing at these feet once.
He said I was not worthy.
You're too kind.
Perhaps you’ll wash my feet next?
I wash carefully. Don’t worry.
He's dead now... I hope.
Until it turned to Gloom.
Such feet might give a man impure thoughts.
The one who came before you was not so kind.
It's... nice. Actually.
Vermillion skin.
Forgive me, but I must abstain.