Sload storytime

Glub Glub Glub. Arise, little grubs. Come hither that this one might tell you an educational tale. Shy not away from the ripples caused by this one’s motions, come hither, this one shall not eat you! At least, if you come close and listen to this one’s story. What, you doubt that this one’s bulk can move with enough speed to catch your nescient little forms? Understand this one’s massive girth is telling of years of knowledge and deceit. A long period of feeding and of being able to keep fed.

You draw near, that is wise. And very bold. *grnch* Let that be a warning against further brazen behaviour, little grubs, and do not regret that one’s passing, for that one moved too fast and trusted enough to snuggle against this one’s bulk and this naiveté is precisely what this one warns against with the telling of this tale, which should be virtuald in your mnemocrypts to be referred to as a catechism up to, and including, the time you develop your land-limbs and leave the wet for the dry.

Now having your attention, this one begins. The folds of this one’s flesh speaks of the geography of bygone atlases, when Thras was a thousand times greater than the cloud shadow that it is now. And that is where the story begins, with a Sload named K’tala, young and brash, wisdom-jowls hanging barely noticeably on that one’s face and thus barely capable of knowledgeable discourse. Yet that one had a droplet or two of knowledge, collected like dewdrops do in the cup of a flower, and the image in the droplet shimmered slightly whenever that one walked and ate and slept, so eventually, it quite nearly consumed him, like the blinding shine of a diamond of the finest water.

>>211624827
she looks like a sload