heavily armored knight women with weapons larger than their entire body
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WARCRY!
*PUNCH THROUGH HER GRAVE*
THE CONQUERESS IS RISING
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We may be on different sides, but I tip my helmet to you in respect, from one warrior lady to another.
And to you, lady of the blade. For honour and our livelihood.
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Much love falls from the sky as wolf pelts...well, pelts the Flail Mistress. Maybe a bear pelt too.
She doesn't know what happened, but the former prisoner take them all and give them as blanket and cloaks for the troops for the harsh marches into the North. Megara keeps the Bear pelt though, it hugs her shoulders just right.
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What do you think my muse's voice sounds like?
Try to describe tone, pitch, accents, etc.
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Datamined cards for Osiris’ upcoming Black Knight and White Knight skins!
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Parchment to my Followers
Don’t be shy to PM or ask me anything! My mind is just really blah and can’t think of anything substantial lately, need to get back into For Honor and missing everyone.
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I haven’t forgotten any of my followers. I think about y’all every day, even though I am silent in the shadows of Tumblr. Don’t forgot...
The Flailmistress is watching y’all.
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Werebear. Werebears are so much scarier than werewolves…
Made with the mod Moonlight Tales.
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Killer in the Woods
The flail shot out from around the tree like a bear’s claw. The covering Berserker yelped and instinctively jerked back at the flanged head whipping right by his face, slamming into the snow-pelted tree. Realizing too late with an armored hand catching the weapon’s end and yanked its chains right at his throat.
His chance to yell for help was strangled into fish-like gasps and spittling whisps, the chain was digging into his flesh and pressure seemed to grow more. He couldn’t break its lethal links nor could he wiggle out of this one. Death had him in its cold grasp.
The murderer behind the tree gave one savage pull and heard a satisfied crunch of bone, grinding her chain side to side like a saw for good measure before letting the body drop. Her form appearing around, covered under an albino bear’s massive pelt and the remnant of its jaw resting on her armored head. Icy fingers crept at a warm breath passing its many openings.
Cold eyes with their pinpoint pupils staring at the struggling corpse before her boot pressed to its heel to back of the Viking’s neck. Pressuring in a proper angle and...
Crack.
“Have your feast in your Valhalla, Crow.” She says, squinting off to her prey’s intended path. The deathly cold plucking at her pelts with dangling claws swaying. From the trees, more of her small company appeared like wraiths in their pale clothes over their scavenged armors- all of condemned men and women; murderers, traitors, heretics, all whom were of death’s block with one last salvation to favor, even if it cost them their lives anyway.
“We are close. I can smell it.” Megara says, taking three deep inhales before putting her flail’s shaft forward at the bare scent of roasted meat, and they moved with drawn blades and axes.
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cinematic execution for @lawbringer-official
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