Let's take a moment to remember that monster girls are made from pure, concentrated love.
Starting with shit eating grin.
use the catalog
>Three theads at once.
I'm not sure I can take this.
you're still not a rattle snake...
Well fuck... the other one is turning quickly to samefaggotry of three threads before that today when guys from /tg/ were practically shitting the place.
Ok this time I am monitoring this thread.
>I wonder why weekend only containment threads would be better?
>I wonder why a weekly thread has became daily.
The only last good one were last Thursday.
Ok, we are going to make this one better.
Are we though?
>Have you heard about the ruins?
>A time ago a kingdom remained. The ruins of a castle are seen from the plains. No farmer goes near as they are chased away by an armored knight. But nothing else. The bounty to cull such renegade began. Soldiers and warriors try to claim, but all pale when they returned. The job is proof of the presentation of the renegade's head for compensation.
>Some person that delivers packages around the town. With the experience of the job gains yourself the strength and dexterity with confidence to challenge this sudden foe of the expanding community. Venture you went, to the castle keep that were left standing from breached walls and collapsed pylons of such past desecration. The doors were still left standing but a push opens the inside. At first were candle lights that danced about. Dancing about quite literally. But an uneasy feeling you have felt this time as the hall and room ahead these lights only have illuminated 10% of the interior.
>As a voice in tenor resonated the foundations. "Return, here shale not be fortune to claim".
The lights all started to recede to the direction of the exit, leaving the path ahead only guided by darkness. Stumbling over whatever unseen rubbish, your eyes have adjusted to see only shapes from the outside's reflecting light breaking though the cracks. But the hall is drawing to an end, as a shape a size no small than you stands in your way. As you get closer you touch the shape. Rough but not cold.
>It is a door.
>You open to find another room well lit with old oil lamp pits. Your eyes still thinks they are brighter than the sun. But between them is a suit of plate layered cuirass with gauntlets and greaves. But they were the only things plated besides the helmet. Also the broken or cut chain mail still exposing a midriff of what seemed to be a toned feminine figure. Now that is strange. The armor advanced with a sword unsheathed.
>"You dare to have come this far as cowards before you?"
>It sounded like a challenge to a duel.
>What do you have though? Nothing.
>"Courier package handlers don't have or use swords, why would they even need them?"
>[What the hell man?]
>But there is an iron rod on the ground. From a floor candle stand that had been minced before. But who is to say that you tried? The armored renegade slashes a notch off of the rod, a good ten inches of it. The choice for blocking is no longer an option. If the rod wouldn't have bin so finely cut, you might have been crushed by such energy from the blow. The way ti win is to knock it out. The armor lunged again, but this time a simple side step has given your incentive to strike. So a swing of the rod hit the helmet, clean off of the shoulders.
>Clean off of the shoulders?
>But wait, the situation should be more dire for a now headless warrior. The renegade had not even recoiled from the blow, much so dropped from such decapitation. Who cares about the details right? All you needed were the "Head". As your real profession dictates from the order, the only thing to deliver were the head. So in much haste you found the helmet that does not feel hallow. Into the darkness of the hallway you ran, the lights of the main room now illuminate the hall for an easy escape.
>It is strange how easy the job were. To think about the details after the deed were silly now, you are going to get paid ether way.
>"Bah, to be beaten by a coward!"
>It were not you. No one else is around you. You were the only one on the field.
>No it can't be. The head talked? Nope, can't be.
>The tenor voice sounded flustered.
>"Unhand me heathen, I will kill you for this humiliation!"
>Nope. Nope. Nope!
>But voice from where? The helmet. So you than reach your hand into the helmet. But something bit your finger, and left a rather slimy residue from it.
>[Oh god why?]
>You managed to separate the helmet from the head. The head that had medium length bangs of darken black hair, pale skin and red eyes. Butta smooth the skin and jaw lining were, no roughness of whiskers (too many details). lips were pursed shaped in a frown of disgust.
>It were still alive. It were complaining. The head is a woman. Okay.
>"You can't hide now, that I have got you" She Hohohohoed in a menacing laugh.
>As a courier, the news were practically not old. The benefits were that whatever you are holding, whatever it were, and why the kingdom has a bounty for it could possibly be a monster.
>So lets think about it for a second. A monster that gets beheaded? Um, wait.
>A monster that gets beheaded... has magical powers... is usually a swordsmen in a suit of armor. Guards something?
>You are in sunlight.
>"Get me out of the sun, it's too hot"
>But wait. The situation would escalate so fast. This is the type of monster heroes search to defeat with a reason, and not just because of a challenge. This is the type of monster that rivals the role of the reaper. This is is an understatement by how helpless such creature begs in your hands. Why yes more nocturnal those creatures were, as they only stay in ruins or stroll for souls at twilight hours.
>A group of lizardmen appeared. Such creatures that they are, the term emasculated in appearance.
>"Looks like we got a human guys"
>"Hey buddy, what cha doing?"
>"Oddly strange for you to take a walk out here"
>They sound easily agitated but only approached behind your back. They have not seen the head. So you placed it in your bag, usually used to carry the mail.
>You got no business or quarrel with them. So you try to play the fool, delivering mail as your role.
>"I wonder If I got any letters from admirers?" One delusioned while the others supported her.
>Uh nope, none to lizardmen.
>Such a positive mood immediately went down under.
It's over for now.