The Lore of Necromancer Moloch of Xanadu

Every day was a busy day for Moloch. Necromancy by night, general administration for the Forum of Lactose Intolerant Canaanites and Kobolds by day. Today was one of those busy days too, not only was there the new slogan to be brainstormed for FLICK, but there was a long list of corpses to raise once the sun was down. Time for any grazing, was there heck!

"Pipistrello!"

Pip opened one eye and glanced over at her master, who was sat upside down in his seat. "Ah, no, maybe it's me that's hanging upside down...", thought Pip.

"Be a love, and pop to the shops to get me some skull-wax please? Tell them to put it on the slate."

Moloch watched as the ever obediant Pip flapped her way out of the window, over the tree tops and through the valley to the little cluster of shops just to the south of his tower.

"For hoof's sake, stop procrastinating", thought Moloch. He turned his attention back to the slogan. It needed to be something memorable, something to really distill that discomfort and the bloating, this wasn't a joking matter. The irony wasn't lost on Moloch though, having an intolerance to your own secretions was disappointing to say the least - especially given his addiction Brown Cow's psychedelic cappuccinos.

Cappuccino's your kick, but makes you feel sick? Canaanite or Kobold, come join us at FLICK!

Awful. Simply awful.

Milk make you gassy? No need to feel sassy. NO. That's actually worse.

It was going to be a long day...

Entered by: 0xE4E0…211D and preserved on chain (see transaction)