The angel of Playerkill Gorge carried the room's air, stirring the blokes into a silent frenzy. Some of us were horny. Some were scared. Her fierce red eyes dared onlookers to drink deeply as a final act.
She scanned the hall of her men in disgust, locking onto me. Then, sighing deeply, she marched over, steps thundering.
"You're Ennui Sacrat?" She politely asked. Out of her magnificent enamored brass armor, she also no longer carried her obsidian spear. She dressed in the adventurer rags, patched here and there from the continuous battle damage, but was winged like a hussar.
"Yes, Mommy." I blurted.
The locks of her golden hair fizzled up, revealing a momentary shock on her face. She regained her composure annoyedly as I suddenly realized what I had said.
"Oh god, I'm sorry." I apologized profusely as the silent room burst into laughter. Clownslayers slapped their knees and rolled on the dirty floor.
"I didn't realize you were a single mother, Amere." Sergei guffawed until he choked.
"My greatest sin was filling this guild full of the very things we were supposed to slay." She muttered, furrowing her brow.
"Yeah, why are you called the Clownslayers?" I eagerly changed the subject.
"How were you abducted?" Sergei asked.
"A large group of men in heavy white makeup and rainbow outfits got out of a small green car. Then they beat the shit out of me until I blacked out."
"Have you never seen a clown before?" Sergei shook me gently, incredulous. It all clicked. Somehow I blocked that memory from my head.
"Alright, enough. The players with the most Imitator experience have been gathered here today, thanks to our many unnecessary sacrifices." Amere appeared forlorn. Everyone closed their eyes in a moment of silence, praying for the comrades they once had.
"Yeah. Let's find a way to win," I offered, hopefully.