I'm with the skellies on this one.
There seems to room for everyone in Gath. Sorry about KantCon. Every day is a weird groundhog event.
Appreciated. There's a NIN song, "Every day is exactly the same." Mood these days. I think we need a class write-up for Skellies.
I think we can all relate to the skeleton in today's (saturday's) installment.
There are days when even the Great Imbiber doesn't have the power to quench the dry throats of the vast waste. There are moments, days, that it seems a thankless job. A hopeless job. Still, I must slap the dust from my sleeves and pants. To stand. To take another breathe. To take another step. The bony boyz repeat their ritual. To burn what is already burnt. To destroy what has already been destroyed. The irony acted out until the sun goes dark. I look in my tankard and find dust at the bottom. It is days like this when I need to be enough. When I need to stand. When I need to make my efforts count. No matter how little they may do. I must do. Faith is an action even if no reward is given. I kick the gun to the side. Bend down and grab a good piece of wood. I heft it in my hand and feel the weight of the end sting my other palm. Time to put these souls to rest. The old fashion way.
Absolute poetry as always, my good cleric!