#SHE MATCHES NARINDER SO WELL I'M

[loullipopx]

It's so beautiful !! :)

More STP x COTL content :DD

[ane-doodles]

I refuse to create a new au, let's call it "alternate timeline"

Ok so, this is based on this illustration. They were just thoughts that came into my head while I was coloring. I'm bad at narration and good at lists so bear with me...

We are located in the time just before Narinder discovers/creates/idk the way to revive mortals. He is still the bishop of death with his own cult and there are no problems with the rest of the bishops. I want to add a note: since this is set before the whole betrayal thing here Narinder is portrayed as calmer focused on his own thing.

The lamb (we will call her Avan hehe) is part of the cult of the red crown. She is really interested in everything related to spirits and gods and often gets into trouble because of her curiosity.

One day in particular she decides to follow one of the fireflies/devotion lights through the forest and ends up meeting the bishop of death who, thanks to a convenient breeze, ends up revealing his face by accident.

I don't know what happens in this period of time but the lamb ends up visiting the forest often to meet Narinder until it becomes a kind of habit.

Visits in the forest become common company within the cult as well. Avan receives as a gift the red cord that she uses as a belt to match Narinder (thanks to this other cultists believe that she has ascended to a new position and do not usually bother her with questions)

Avan ends up helping Narinder perfect the resurrection method with the knowledge she has of materials (bones, plants, among others) in addition to providing a different perspective and questions to the god of death. In the end they end up achieving the result that we know in the game. [for the ritual to work the summoner gives a small fragment of his life, since Narinder is immortal this does not affect him in any way]

Here the pre-game events take place: the bishops don't like this, they plan a way to stop what Narinder has started and opt to imprison him in the gateway, but first they must kill him (inspired by this post, go check it out )

So Narinder is killed but he is not immediately chained, but rather the bishops decide to first put an end to the cult (to prevent knowledge about the resurrection from being dispersed). Avan's life is spared because "she seemed to be close to Narinder and his memory should not be forgotten" (me to myself: HA FOOLS! they left alive the only one who really knew the resurrection ritual)

As the massacre takes place, Avan (between terrified and confused) decides to do the resurrection ritual on her own. She takes Narinder's heart and hides deep in the forest.

As Avan is a mortal, the ritual affects her quite a bit (you can see her blackened fingers in a sketch). Narinder is brought back to the world of the living as a demigod, as Avan's mortal life was not enough to bring him back fully.

This is where the story gets a little blurry because my imagination started to run out…

While Narinder fervently desires to take revenge, his powers are truly limited now, and abusing them could kill him and even the lamb. Avan, for her part, prefers to hide at least for a while, scared of the bishops and the idea that they will discover that she was the one who brought Narinder back to life.

How the hell do you hide a cat at least three times your height?

Before the story went totally off track this was supposed to be some sort of Narinder flashback for the CFP Au

I did think about designing a lamb especially for this one, but I prefer to take and adapt Avana, it's more fun and I think the blue suits her well.

Is this a romantic Au? dramatic? Platonic? of friendship? of survival? idk, be creative with your own imagination and enjoy.

[doppel-doodles]

Since everyone is making their own little version of the characters I thought I would join the fun for my Fallen crown Au! These were supposed to be quick little sketches just to get some ideas down but they still took me the whole day:'D will probably change as I draw them but I wanted at least something down on for the time being and I do like how most turned out!

Single versions plus some info and ramblings about each under cut for those interested:

My lamb was mainly based on both, yes the actual player character but also the vibes of my own plathrough which were very "oh god who let this child be in charge?-" while I'll still mostly just call them Lamb I figured they should still have a proper name so I went with my friends @/tamaruaart suggestion as it suits them rather nicely! And most note worthy detail is honestly just the fact that they carry something from each bishops realm on their person now, I like to think they treat those items like little trophies:>

Narinder is probably my weakest I feel like, he definitely needs something to give him some extra "ompf!". I basically made his undertaker fit a sorta reverse or at least loosely inspired by his white robes in game. I imagine he is very boney or a straight up skeleton underneath so he covers it all up beneath heavy fabrics, but because I lack subtly I still covered him in bones regardless-

And yea I kept the veil cause 1. It's a look and 2. It coviently covers up his now sewn shut third eye.

There wasn't much reason behind making him an undertaker, I simply thought it suited him, when your the former god of death you aren't exactly squeamish around corpses. Lastly the dark blues are there to contrast the other followers warm tones, as they kinda seen him as an outcast which is just fine for narinder he isnt exactly thrilled to be here.

I'll put Leshy and Heket together as they were sorta designed as a set.Since they are both youngest among the bishops I sorta latched onto the headcanon that they get along pretty well and just stick together after getting into the cult so they just share a lot of their duties. So I gave them some matching elements like the puffy shorts but also stuff that contrasts like Leshy having looser clothing and Hekets being more tight. Or Heket getting working gloves with a little belt to hold tools plus a hat for the sun, meanwhile Leshy will happily dig through the dirt bare clawed in the sun for hours-

I debated on giving Heket an apron but honestly I think she would only wear one while cooking or tending the farm plots there is no reason for her to wear it casually, the gloves though stay for I reason I utterly love because its PETTY-

Literally the only reason she keeps them on almost constantly is because when the lamb asks she can be like "ew, I'm not touching you with my bare hands." Yes, my humour is broken moving on-

I also gave Leshy a cane just so he actually has something to feel around with when he is areas he isn't too familiar with so he isn't running into crap- on that note, Heket can speak a bit but not exactly loud or for a very long time without seriously hurting her throat, once I properly learn it I definitely wanna draw her using sign language.

Lastly bodies, Leshy was based off a previous drawing I made of him in bishop form, I simply made it less monsterous but he is in charge of chaos so he had to remain a creature- Heket is more straight forward, she is a frog and she is large and in charge.

There was one reason why I made Shamura a tailor and that was the mental image of them sewing the bishops clothes when they were younger and dressing them up all cute.

I went for more pink colors mainly because I thought it better suited the purple and would make their red eyes pop! Honestly I really love their colors they remind me of a Berry! I've drawn shamura before but honestly the only things that stuck were the colors,face and then also the hand markings I did tweak their eyes a bit I wanted something more stern feeling.

For clothing I kept everything nice and loose, while they are the tailor I also love the idea that in their spare time they either teach the youths in the cult or are like the champion of the fighting pit because war is also their domain and they can be- so I wanted them dressed pretty comfy to deal with whatever may come! But still keep everything pretty mature and mildly fancy maybe in the future I'll do some fancy gold and silver embroidery to the pants because of that.

As for body type I wanted them to be pretty thin but unlike Narinder who is twink material under his cloak they have a bit more bulk on top to show that they can choose violence if they so wish-

I adore me some pathetic but still serving men, honestly except for the cross on his belt I completely ignored the fact I made him a medic- If he needs to treat something gross he can throw something over to protect his clothes but just like Heket there is no reason for him to wear that while not working.

Otherwise my main goal was simply to make Kalamar look pretty and fancy. I debated on either short or long bottoms until I realized I'd have to figure out his tentacle situation, then realized I don't hate myself THAT MUCH so bro got put into a floor length gown, work smarter not harder kids.

If I have an excuse to give a character a shawl I will take it so fast.

His body type I mainly wanted to flesh out the roster so I tried making him very squishy and huggable looking, I debated on thinner so he looked more dangly and stretchy but that made him kinda to similar to Narinders build for my liking.

[ask-theredcrown]

NARINDER

NARI

DID YOU AND FORNEUS DO SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR YALLS WEDDING?? 👀👀👀

"Oh definitely... I remember our wedding like it was yesterday...."

"It was in darkwood, our cult helped us prepare the place entirely with flowers, it was beautiful..."

"But nothing else mattered when Forneus walked in, she was the most gorgeous woman in this entire universe... Her dress was long, meters long, and she looked like a true queen... A Goddess even..."

"It was sparkly, in tones of white and grey, and as a gift, I made a Crown just for her... Pfft, heheh... Of course, it is nothing like a real crown but she deserved one, she is my Goddess, the one that I devoted my whole love to... I made her a crown, and a veil to match..."

"The ceremony was just as beautiful, and so was the ritual... A pact, with blood carved straight from our hearts... I still have the scars, and I believe she does as well...."

Narinder slowly undresses the top part of her robes, just enough so the scar was visible on the middle of her chest. The fur didn't grow there anymore, it will never heal.

"Most scars heal in the Afterlife, you see, once you die... But things like this will enver go away... I'm forever bounded to her, just as she is to me..."

[scribblestatic]

More Forsaken, some kinda written, some summary-drabbled.

----

13 followers remaining.

Narinder sacrificed an older follower, not really because of her amount of devotion, but simply because she was nearing the end of her lifespan, and he needed those who could work to be in his cult. He didn't have much time for caring for elders on a good day. Maon was already a stretch.

She took her death in stride, without complaint, and Death returned to Darkwood.

Because of Leshy's mutated influence, the land was rife with chaos. The already darkened forest was even darker, almost pitch. He had to light a fire to see anything in front of himself, where even his night vision had trouble picking up the light.

Plants were growing within and on top of each other, layering like vines and intertwining like many strands in a tapestry. Nearly no sunlight could break through the canopy, yet the plants seemed to survive well enough. Though, if Narinder looked at them long enough, he could see completely different flowers blooming from the same stalk. They came in mix-matched shapes and sizes, bases thick but flowers at the head small, even delicate. Others seemed just large overall.

Though, Narinder really knew something was terribly messed up when he saw a flower swaying in the darkness. It was a large rose, perhaps a bit smaller than the size of his own head. It swayed in nonexistent wind, so he was curious as to what it was doing.

Wanting to see, Narinder brightened his fire...

The flower was not connected to a vine. Instead, it was attached to the body of a chaser worm, vines forced through its flesh and wrapping around its limbs. The rose was in the place its head should've been.

"...Vile creature."

It went down easily, utterly unfocused on his presence. A slash from his scythe was all it took, and the mutated monster fell into nothing. Narinder collected its bones and gazed suspiciously at the rose petals that continued to bloom beautifully.

He decided against collecting anything from it without knowing more.

Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, the strange flower creatures weren't the only ones in the pitch blackness of Darkwood. Also ill-adapted to how dark everything was, Narinder's fire was like a beacon toward everything else.

He had to dodge quickly to avoid the attack from a non-polluted chaser worm. The fire light flickered from how quickly it passed. Clicking his tongue, Narinder stabbed his torch into the ground and thrust himself into the darkness. He didn't have to be directly beside it to see, after all.

The light provided just enough for him to see dimly around himself once further away. He also had to rely on his whiskers and other senses, realizing that there were at least another three to four chaser worms in the area.

With some struggling, he managed to kill them all without injury, though he was panting a bit.

"I'm simply out of practice," he grumbled to himself, angry he let his skills falter. He'd grown too comfortable in the enclosed lands of his cult. While his spells and curses were still as strong as ever, physically, he needed work.

---

"Praise the Lamb, conduit to great power, promised liberator of the One that Waits below. I see they have completed their duty."

Narinder was able to identify Clauneck's store by the stars hanging in the passageway. The smooth metal surfaces reflected off the light from his fire, and upon entering the area, Clauneck had fire lit on his own. Narinder smelled the delicious remains of whatever meat he'd cooked from it.

How strange. It's been hundreds of years by this time, and yet Clauneck was still alive. How long-lived was this tarot card reader?

Although he wanted to scoff at his greeting, he allowed it to pass. Powerful as he was, he knew there were still many mysteries he had yet to uncover. His domain was Death, but even he didn't see past the shores of their lands.

"Card reader, I've seen your work. Draw a card, that I may gain power from it."

Clauneck cooed softly. "Oh, God of Death, I have always drawn your cards."

The owl spread three cards out in front of him, the remaining cards flowing out to the sides and spinning around them, both sides of the cards showing the backs.

"...However, Fate has different designs for you. To answer the call of a cry most despaired. To fix what you hath wrought. Thus, you must divine Fate's machinations on your own."

...Strange. When the Lamb came to Clauneck, he would draw a card for them. Perhaps it was different with a god so experienced.

Though, to fix what he hath wrought... Bah. Perhaps the Fates were against his siblings' extended suffering. No wonder his cult started having troubles the longer it went on, that he now had to traverse these lands himself to fix the problem.

"Then, allow me."

Narinder kneeled down in front of Clauneck and, after some consideration, drew the leftmost card.

Master of the Art. Strike hard, strike fast, strike true.

He felt ancient power flow into him, increasing his strength, and felt at least somewhat satisfied by the results. He wasn't sure he remembered every card or its effects, but it was good enough.

"I see. The One Who Weeps loves you still."

Narinder blinked, looking up.

"What?"

But Clauneck didn't elaborate, pulling the other two cards back as the deck collected together. The card in Narinder's hand dissipated, its power used. He then puts his hands back together, humming softly.

"Your cards have been drawn. The path lays ahead."

"No, I—what did you just say?"

But Clauneck merely sat in silence.

Narinder's hackles bristled...but he stood without complaint, bowed, and left.

---

Amdusias was rotting in a strangely serene fashion.

Narinder knew this follower from the time the Lamb first slayed their monstrous form, causing it to spit out its scarred but sane self. Amdusias had remained loyal to the Lamb, though they still held love for Leshy in their heart. The Lamb knew this and did not seek to change that.

When Amdusias passed from old age, the Lamb, soft as ever, mourned losing them, allowing them to pass on without resurrection.

Somehow, Narinder doubted that a follower would result from this duel. The beast in front of him seemed nearly soulless. Nearly. He could still sense something dwelling within it.

Though, unlike the beasts that the Lamb faced, Amdusias did not attack. Not initially.

They was still in their quarters, large head slightly shifting as they breathed. Several bodies and skulls appeared fused to their own head, some even impaled on their horns. However, the follower's eyes were closed, their mouth slightly open as they sighed with each breath. The skulls were intertwined with vines without thorns, and camellias bloomed from the eyes of the many faces that replaced Amdusias' pustules.

It appeared as though the creature was sleeping.

...If that was the case, that would make slaying it easier.

He raised his crown to form his scythe, then slashed.

A long scar formed across their face...but no blood or ichor came from it. Then the flesh began to knit itself back together, sewn through the vines that connected through the rest of their body. After mending their flesh, the vines melded into their skin, changing form to look exactly like it, as though Narinder hadn't cut into them at all.

All the while, Amdusias remained asleep.

"What foul spell has..."

Nothing should be able to reverse a wound seriously inflicted by death, and Narinder did not strike out without purpose. Even his siblings failed to heal their wounds despite being gods themselves.

Something was terribly wrong.

He cut into the creature, then cut again. This time, Amdusias' eyes twitched, though they remained closed. Just like before, a few moments after cutting into them, vines knit their flesh shut before a single drop of blood could leave them.

So, he cut their face three times.

After the third slice, a single trickle of ichor began to drip from their flesh.

Amdusias' eyes snapped open, but instead of being black with red crosses, they were fully red. The vines began knitting their face back together, and this time, when Narinder went to slice them again, the faces on their head open their mouths and let out reedy little cries, camellia petals falling from their eyes like tears.

Narinder abruptly had to dodge from a large vine that shot out of the ground toward him. Muzzle scrunching, he stabbed his torch into the vine-ridden wall behind him, then ran forward.

Contrary to Amdusias' living attacks, this seemingly undead version attacked differently. Quietly. They never let out a threatening war cry like they had before, instead slinking around in the darkness, leaving behind a strange hybrid of seed and egg that quickly sprouted to reveal the rose-like creatures from before. Unlike the ones he'd seen outside of this room, though, these ones were openly hostile.

They thrust themselves at him, many whips lashing out from their backs. The whips were covered with thorns that whistled as they swung quickly through the air. He couldn't stay too close to one for very long lest he get hit. The rose-worms went down with four hits instead of one, even if he sliced their necks.

Moreover, the longer he spent fighting the worms, the more time Amdusias had to restore their health.

The fight was growing incredibly complex, still having to manage his way around the darkness with only a single torch as his light source.

Narinder was, of course, not as physically fit as he'd prefer to be.

While dodging a rose-worm, one of the thornless vines from Amdusias' back smacked roughly into his side, throwing him off his feet.

At the same time, a vision.

Quick flashes of thought and memory.

Someone gathering piles of dirt, packing it together tightly against a wall to make their home.

Great and powerful insects, crazed by old energy, raining terror down upon the stranger's tiny house.

A green hand reaching up high to Leshy, who bends down to grin at them, saying something Narinder can only barely hear.

Reinforcing walls made of heavy stone with sediment alongside other followers—a duty they are now above, but still tend to nonetheless.

The figure, cloaked in darkness, as they gaze up at Leshy again, before turning toward someone else.

Toward the Lamb, younger, with shorter horns and smaller stature, similar to how they looked at first...

And then Narinder gasps as he hits the ground, rolling back onto his feet, scythe reforming in his outstretched hand.

What was that? Were they Amdusias' memories?

He didn't have time to ponder for too long. Instead, he jumped out of the way of another attack, then proceeded to try killing off one of the rose-worms.

He managed to not get hit again, slicing his way through his enemies until it was finally just him and the still quiet worm. With a growl under his breath, he waited until the large creature thrust their body toward him and parried their attack. He then brought his scythe up, blade facing down, and thrust it into the top of Amdusias' skull.

The creature's red eyes trembled, a mixture of blood and ichor spurting out of the wound. But Narinder knew better than to stop there. He kept going, his foot on Amdusias' face to keep them still, raising and slashing his scythe down over and over again until their skull split.

It was only after a final crack and the slight slide of the worm's skull that they finally let out a roar.

But underneath it, he could still hear the very sane and mournful cry of a follower's voice.

Narinder panted, then, using his foot to help, pulled his scythe from the deep wound he made in Amdusias' head. He backed away, waiting for the beast to waste away, replaced with a chest and the prizes he often saw come with it.

"...P...l...ease..."

His ears twitched, eyes squinting into a frown. Gazing at the beast, he watched as awareness came to those fully red eyes, a light that wasn't there before.

"Plea...ase...don...'t..."

Amdusias slumped their broken head against the ground, the worn moss and petals floating and disintegrating from their body.

"Please...I beg you...God of Death..."

Their body began to cave in, like a worn husk.

"Do not...leave...my Lord...to suffer..."

Their skull split further as the red began fading from their vision, turning paler. The faces attached to their own began fading into skulls.

"Let...this end...or...let him...dream... Please..."

The vines also began withering, and the section Narinder split cracked off completely, Amdusias' face falling apart.

"Please...please..."

The light and the redness finally faded off into a pitch black. Then, even that was gone as their eyes burst into camellia petals. All that remained were the bones within their body and the rotted wood of their horns. The petals circled around them in a soft bed of flowers.

Narinder waited for a bit, but realized no chest would appear. His nose scrunched, but whatever. He hadn't found a single follower during his travels this time, and he needed to return to check on things back at the cult.

He walked back to the wall where he'd thrust his torch and had a tad bit of trouble pulling it back out. But he did, and the vines that split when he'd done so earlier closed up without incident.

"This place is wrong. Very wrong," he murmured, then he turned to leave the room.

But a glimmer caught his eye.

Confused, he turned toward where he'd seen it, right around Amdusias' corpse. He moved the torch and saw the glimmer again.

Upon drawing closer, he saw two small items sitting inside the creature's bones.

One was a fragment of something larger, a light, glittering thing from which he felt immense power. But it was stable, something he couldn't make use of himself.

The other looked to be complete, but was terribly small. A tiny, teardrop-shaped thing. When he picked it up, he realized it was smooth and cool to the touch. Incredibly small, yet sturdy. A pale, milky pink color.

He knew not what either object was, but he had an idea of someone who would.

[cotl-betrayal-sacrifice]

[24] Other Side

Alexander does his job as the god of death, and helps an elderly dog find peace.

114 years after Culling began. Eighth month of the Lamb.

It was strange to think about how much the Veil had changed since he defeated Narinder. What was once a haze coated landscape of dry sand and massive chains was now an afterlife of snow. The constant trickle of snowflakes from the endless sky had replaced the sandy floor with snow that crunched underhoof. Some snow drifts had formed, giving the terrain a bit more variation than what was present before, and the Lamb could faintly hear the joyous screams of the deceased enjoying the endless weather. The ground was cold, but despite that spirits happily played and walked through it all day long. One of the benefits of not possessing a body with a need to keep warm. Most creatures staying here had found peace in the winter afterlife, reuniting with loved ones or experiencing joys that their harsh life had previously stolen from them. Despite how sad it was to see children here, at least they could find joy in this place.

As Alexander trotted through the white landscape, his ears perked to a voice calling out to him. Turning around, he saw an elderly dog waving him down from the bottom of a hill. Their wooden left pegleg was the most obvious feature, whilst the greyed black and white pattern of their coat identified them as a border collie. "Excuse me young one, do you think you could help me?" She asked, leaning on her walking cane with enough of a hunch on her back that she matched him in height.

Alexander smiled. "Of course, who are you looking for?" This was his job here, helping those lost spirits find their friends and family.

"I'm… Not sure. I'm looking for something, but I don't know what. And these old bones aren't the fastest." She laughed at her own observation, hobbling forward and around the Lamb. "But I figured you would know this place better than I." She continued as she began to take slow steps up the hill the Lamb had just descended.

"Well, I know how to find anybody here." Alexander explained. "So, if you know their name I'll be able to help you out." He offered his arm to help her, and the collie accepted. But once her hand rested on his arm, she paused.

"…You're warm." She mumbled, slightly stunned. She looked up his body and focused on the Red Crown. "You're alive, you're the Promised Liberator!" She declared happily. "I thought that crown looked a little too real."

Alexander chuckled and nodded, lightly tugging her to prompt her to continue walking up the hill. "Yes, I am. My name is Alexander."

"Oh, I apologise! I just assumed you were dead. After I heard the last sheep was killed years ago, I kind of…" She paused, her features twisting into sadness and regret. "…Lost hope." But her smile soon returned, wrinkles twisting with her smile. "But silly me should have not lost faith, I onyl wish you were one of mine."

The Lamb tilted his head. "One of yours?"

She nodded, the pair finally reaching the top of the hill. "During the Culling, I helped hide many sheep and lambs from the Old Faith." His eyes widened before a soft smile of gratitude fell over him. He had heard of such kind souls, risking everything for strangers they had never met. "I never got anything in return beyond words of appreciation, but that was enough." She took a deep breath (despite not needing to breath) and looked over the landscape. Coloured dots moved around under her gaze, scanning the landscape in search of something. Alexander was about to ask a question before she raised her cane and pointed into the distance. "This way, I believe." Was he guiding her, or the other way around?

"Alexander doesn't sound like a sheep name." She noted after a few minutes of silent walking. "A name to hide amongst the Old Faith?" She asked, turning to him.

"Something like that…" He mumbled, his face tightened and his hand scratched his collar, whilst his mind swashing with contradicting thoughts. Something about her felt so soft and genuine. Is that why he wanted to tell her the truth? Her expression flattened, she knew that look, and knew it was best to not pry.

There were another few minutes of quiet walking, the only sound being snow crunching under hoof and paw and the occasional voice asking for directions. Alexander indulged every time, and everytime she waited for him to be finished before continuing to walk with him. "…My birth name was Charon Enquos." Alexander said, a quiet hum of acknowledgement coming from his travelling partner. "Alexander was the name given to me by my parent."

"And, who was your parent?" She asked, voice quiet and cautious.

Alexander did not answer for a few moments, pausing with a deep breath in and out before answering. "Shamura. The Bishop of War." He averted his gaze, only hearing her hum in curiosity.

"I did not think the Bishop of War would do such a thing." She mulled out loud.

"I was raised to be a spy, to sell out places that were safe for sheep." ALexander continued, old guilt bubbling to the surface.

She said nothing, her gaze focused on the path ahead in thought for a few, agonisingly long moments, before she finally asked. "Why did you do it?" Her tone wasn't filled with anger or distrust, just confusion and undertones of disappointment.

"Shamura was my parent, I loved them and they… They loved me." His arms wrapped around himself in a self hug. He hated thinking about Shamura, about how he hated Narinder more than he loved them.

The collie's face twisted into shared grief. "You have my condolences. It must have not been easy to fight them." She said, rubbing her hands together for a few moments of silence. "My ex-husband, bless his soul, did his best to support me. But one day it got to be too much for him." The Lamb looked up at her as the tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "He was going to tell the Old Faith about the sheep I had been harbouring, that they were threatening us so the Old Faith wouldn't kill us too. But I… Couldn't let him do that." She looked down at the snow, eyes locking onto her pegleg for a few moments before she stiffened her expression. "That was the only time he ever hurt me."

"Did you ever forgive him?"

"I forgave him decades ago. He was doing what was best for us, I just wish I never let my greif and anger make me throw the ring away." She rubbed her hands once again, Alexander now noting that she was specifically squeezing her ring finger. "Perhaps if I didn't…" She mumbled.

"If you didn't?" Alexander asked.

She shook her head, wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled up to him. "Oh, nothing dearie. Shall we continue walking, I feel like we're close." She said, swiftly stepping ahead to leave the conversation behind.

The two walked about various things for the remainder of the walk. Their lives, people they had met, what the sanctuary was like and the people who lived there, Alexander's plans for the future now that fate was no longer forcing his hand. There was a loud crash as a chain collapsed into the snow a few minutes walk away, and soon after was the sound of shouts and cheering. Even those who had been here for long enough to know Narinder's presence were happily ridding this place of his presence. Alexander wondered if that was coincidence, or if something about this place encouraged such behaviour. "Ah, this is it." The collie announced, Alexander's thoughts being taken from him. His eyes falling onto a propped up against thin air. He tilted his head at the scene, despite being the god of death for so long now, he had never seen a door such as this before.

"How can you tell?" He asked.

The collie shook her head with a chuckle. "Seems you still have much to learn about this place." She took a step towards the door and it swung open. Darkness filled its interior, a stark contrast between the white background of the Veil. Alexander wanted to step closer to examine it, but he couldn't. Something, deep within his very soul told him: 'This is not yours'. In contrast to the Lamb's almost scrutinous gaze, the collie sighed in relief, and her wrinkled features softened into a fulfilled smile. "Thank you." She said, turning to Alexander, voice overflowing with gratitude. "For making my walk less lonely."

Alexander matched her smile. "Thank you, for all you've done for sheep kind. I'll never forget you, and I'll make sure the world never forgets what yo- ACK!"

She bonked him on the head with her cane. "You will do no such thing. Those I protected will remember me, that's enough. I don't want to be a saint or anything else, got it?" She interrupted with a disciplinary tone.

The Lamb rubbed his forehead, hissing quietly. "Ouch, okay I won't tell anybody else…" When she turned back towards the door again, he got curious. "…What do you see?" He unintentionally asked out loud.

The dog firmly planted her cane in the ground and took another step towards the doorway, her hands rubbing together again. "…Simpler times." With a smile on her face, she stepped into the darkness and the door closed behind her. It crumbled away, the shape reducing to snowflakes in the non-existent breeze, carrying her into the sky. He turned to the spot where she had planted her cane and saw it had gone too. No evidence of her remaining except for footprints in the snow, which too would soon be covered up and fade away. Just as she wished to be.

A sense of satisfaction welled up within him, 'Good job' it almost said to him. His reward for leading a soul to their peaceful rest. But with that satisfaction, so did a sense of grief. She couldn't come back, he knew this. He didn't know how, but something deep within him told him so. He squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head respectfully, before turning and resuming his task of laying the souls to rest.

[benilos]

Chaos itself is an element tied to the earth and all processes of life. Existence itself is completely unpredictable despite its many patterns, which is why it made so much sense to the Lamb as to why Leshy was such a pain in their fucking ass.

She didn't know yet. She was still tied in the medbay as any time her wounds healed and Amdusias made the mistake of letting his "mother" free, she'd rip the freshly healed wounds right back open. Leshy himself was sitting on the Indoctrination Circle, quiet. Docile, almost. The antlers that stuck from his head sometimes moved, more like antennae at times with how they'd shake at the slightest wind, sensing. Waiting. Seeing where he couldn't.

He knew she was there. She didn't know he was there. Narinder stood beside the Lamb, arms crossed. He spared a glance at his former vessel, trying to read the ever-blank, wide-eyed expression the Lamb always had, though the usual matching empty smile was gone.

In the Lamb's head, a storm was brewing. He didn't realize the same would occur as it did with Narinder. He'd thought it was some effect of being the god of death specifically, not a god in general. Even in this smaller form, Leshy was large. Tall, thick, like an ancient tree come to life. The robes he wore before now hung tattered and loose, exposing green wood-like flesh on his arms, and a brush of the fur-like hair stuck out from a cut across the front of his tunic.

"Tell me your name, and declare your loyalty to me." The Lamb's voice made Narinder uncomfortable when they were like this. It was hollow, hard, cold. They'd spoken to him with that same tone when he was kneeling on the hard stone, the cold seeping in from both the ground and the Lamb's eyes.

"Leshy. Indoctrinate me into your cult, and I will follow your teachings faithfully." Leshy's own voice was hoarse, his tiredness audible. It twinged something in Narinder's chest, but he remained silent.

The Lamb leaned down a bit, brushing his hand against Leshy's shoulder before turning his palm up, offering it to the former Bishop. Leshy stood, the red light from the circle washing over him and whisking away the tattered robes to replace it with the standard tunic and pants that were oft uniform for the Cultists. Leshy didn't speak another word, he only stood, his head slightly tilted down.

"You should go see her."

"No." Leshy's response was immediate. He knew Eris, he knew how she'd react. He couldn't let his girl see him like this. Small and beaten. Much like her. "I can't..."

"You should. Small and beaten. Red and wrong. Bishop and Hand. She has been tearing her hooves bloody trying to get back to you. She's in the medbay. That's a command." The Lamb turned on their heel, trotting off without another haunting word. Narinder lingered, staring at the forlorn expression on Leshy's face.

"I can feel you staring."

Narinder's fur stood on end for a moment, before he settled. "I'm..."

"I'm glad to see you too. Well...." He gestured vaguely at the bandages that covered where his eyes used to be. Narinder let out a small chuckle, but he couldn't bare standing there any longer. As he left, Leshy turned his head to the direction of the medbay.

The cemetery was situated in front of it mostly, making it a bit difficult to naviagte to the corner where the medbay was sequestered behind the Lamb's temple. He heard her voice, soft and quiet as she whispered with Amdusias, ever at her side. Such a faithful child, Leshy still wishes he hadn't been the first to go down.

He couldn't. He could only stand there, her voice trailing from the smallest opening in the door. Not yet.

Not yet.

[the-one-who-lambs]

Hello! Your works among many other artists inspired me to write my own Cotl fanfic. The plot is ready for the first part but my main issue is that I struggle to write action and fighting scenes. Do you have any advices to give me?

Hi!! That's so lovely! This is probably one of my most favorite things to hear.

Honestly, action and especially fighting scenes are difficult, even for me! When I'm writing them, I try to bulletpoint what happens during the fight in order before I attempt to write it for my rough draft to get an idea of a flow. Once you have the fight outlined a little, I try to think about what each character is feeling, thinking, what sensations they can feel in their body, and especially navigate their character traits as a way to set the pace for the fight. That way, a fight scene doesn't just seem like a list of actions; it's more interesting when the characters are processing something internally and have that drive the narrative!

Also think about what you want the fight scene to achieve. For example, in the chapter of Care and Keeping of Eldritch Gods where the older bishops are trying to teach Heket a lesson about cooperation, Narinder and Shamura are a very well-balanced team whereas Kallamar and the argumentative Heket who wants the match to go her way and insists that everything will be great as long as Kallamar follows her instructions exactly... struggle a lot. When Heket inevitably becomes frustrated with Kallamar, Shamura allows them to discuss strategy and come up with something together before letting them win when Heket works with Kallamar as part of a team so she can learn that it's okay to not always be right Shamura and Narinder are defeated fairly after the two have a brief tear in communication.

The fight scene accomplished a couple things: first, young Heket gets some important character development, and second, it foreshadows how Narinder and Shamura's relationship will begin to strain before his revolt (an event that is not in the work itself because it takes place much further before canon, but is central to shaping its themes and plot points! While the Bishop family does care about each other... They do have an underlying sense of competition and especially their interactions are fraught with miscommunication, which will ultimately destroy them).

I'd also suggest studying what writers you look up to do for fight scenes, and trying to find what you enjoy about them... But looks like you already have the right idea by reaching out!

Good luck!

[spotlightstudios]

Cult of the Lamb doodles!!!!

BONUS DOODLES BY @neonsix67 !!!!

Neon managed to get me into this game a fun year or so after I gave up, so we're drawing it a lil lmao. (She also lapped me by killing Heket, Kallamar, and Shamura in a span of two days. I uhhhh I stopped progressing after I beat Leshy in order to fortify my Cult lmao-)

Neon and I have got pretty different stories for how our Lambs view Narinder and the whole cult-thing, and if she wants to reblog with her version she can, but I'm gonna rant about my version for a sec here!

The Lamb lived as a coward, pretty well disguised as another animal up until his horns grew in. That was when he was caught and sacrificed. (I think he lived in Anura before this.)

He didn't want the crown, but he ended up taking it anyways, kinda hoping he'd get killed along the way and get free of the whole thing. He's a coward and scared of everything, so defeating Leshy was kinda horrifying for him. He decided to take a break from crusades after that and heavily attend to his cult.

He married his first and most devoted follower, Treno (horse), and kinda took Breanty (cat) under his wing. Grenana (unicorn) was a follower he rescued from Darkwood who asked to marry him, and the Lamb agreed. (Grenana and Treno aren't exactly friends, but for the sake of the lamb they'd trample any non-believers.) Breanty was an outcast to the cult (didn't dye his fur to match the rest) and Lamb felt bad for not warning him. Between that and the cat being an accidental insomniac, Lamb grew fond of him.

Now Lamb is working his way through Anchordeep (skipped Anura) and is facing off Kallamar.

The Lamb is, by now, very numb to death and his impossible quest, but his husbands and insomniac are what keep him going. If he falls for good, he's insisted that his followers continue without him and hold the Cult strong.

[lost-scarecrow]

I have fifteen different lockscreen wallpapers that cycle through. We got this in the bag.

Starting off with the underpowered part of the group most of them will do the least amount of fighting, they're our medical team and support (you'll see why when I get to the other guys):

- (KinitoPET) Serverbox!Sonny Chamberlain. Sorry buddy you're probably not going to be a lot of help. He's one of the heads of the med team (so he doesn't strain himself too much).

- (KinitoPET) All five Serverbox Kinitos. I think they'd probably be support team as well, as long as they get along. With Ori being emotional support (no touching needed, him and Sonny might probably give medical advice too), Amie and SB being the ones to defend support team from attacks, Bo and Nio are medical workers they're patching people up and doing their best with advice given to them.

- (KinitoPET) My oc Scar (I made voyagr's drawing of him my wallpaper because I love it so much and I actually cried /pos over it) this guy is also support. He's probably medical team with Bo and Nio, being guided by Sonny and Ori.

- (Suzume) Suzume, she's head of the med team. She doesn't need advice or instructions as often, she's got this. Also everyone else is like "no absolutely not you are not fighting you're 16" she didn't even say she wanted to fight, she just said she wants to help, being on the med team is helping.

- (Suzume) Souta, he's on the medical team too, he's listening to every instruction he's doing great.

- (Suzume) Daijin, he's on support team defense with Amie and SB. He probably could've joined the real fight but he didn't want to leave Suzume.

- (Welcome to Night Vale) Erika. Just one though. They're not really doing anything, they're a little bored, only reason they haven't left is because watching the offense team is entertaining enough.

- (Real life) Me! Hypeman. I can barely do anything physical, but if I'm not making sure the vibes are epic and making sure everyone is keeping their spirits up. That's very important.

The offense team. Full of characters who are the reason we're winning this:

- (Lego Monkie Kid) Sun Wukong. Self explanatory if you know anything about SWK or even Goku. He's having fun.

- (Lego Monkie Kid) The Six Eared Macaque. As the guy who can match Sun Wukong's energy and power nearly 100%, he's having nearly the exact same time as Wukong. But, he's probably complaining the entire time it's almost not worth it.

- (Lego Monkie Kid) Mk. His major and basically only set back is that he doesn't have the years of training and fighting experience Monkey King and Macaque have.

- (Cult of The Lamb, trod au (from bamsara)) Narinder. That's a god. Or half a god? That's confusing me but he'll be fine I'm sure of it.

- (Cult of The Lamb, trod au (from bamsara)) Lamb. Half God/God again. Also they've killed Gods before, this will be a walk in the part considering the other people on their team.

You and the characters in your lockscreen wallpaper fight god.

[chaoticcupcakegalaxy]

Okay, but listen! Listen imagine this scenario instead. Narinder presumable had other cult/cults. And there were sheep in there right?! Right! So, instead of him being surprised that The Lamb can purr he expects it. But, Listenn, listen, he- can'ts purr for more than happiness reasons. They do it to self sooth, but, but listen, sheep only purr when they happy. Happy! and content. Like so, imagine. Imagine. The Lamb doesn't know sheep can purr.

He/she/they have been running for their life, their whole life. then they became a cult leader, and they have to fight witnesses and gods and other cults and heretics and- and. The Lamb has never been truelly content. Just never been been, there's always been too much on his plate.

Now in this scenario Narinder knows sheep can purr, and he knows why! So listen, listen! Imagine this scenario!

Narinder and The Lamb are cuddling. Maybe The Lamb is wrapping up some last minute fianances or double checking to see if they have the resources to do a prodject- or maybe their just lieing in the grass together, or in bed, or on a couch- and their like reading, or just being. Things in the cult are good! Food stock; good. Housing; good. Herritics; dead or far enough away not to matter! Maybe the weather has been particularly generous, and cooperative. The last death was an old age ascention or a well done sacrifice or whatever would be considered perfect by that specific The Lamb's standards.

Most importantly Narinder and The Lamb are getting along. Maybe they recently stopped fighting. Maybe it's been that way for a while. But they're cuddling, and life is good! Life is PERFECT! And their anxiety's have been sated. No anxiety not today. Maybe Narinder is kneading, or maybe they're both just cuddling. Maybe their laying in a patch of sunlight, or maybe it's raining and their both drinking tea. Maybe isn't snowing. IDK They important thing is this. The Lamb is content, truly content for the first time in their whole life. They're cuddling with the love of their life and their cult is running smoothly and Narinder's definately purring. And they start purring too. At first they don't realize it, because Narinder started purring louder. Of course he would. but then The Lamb notices that there's another purr matching to Narinder's. And maybe they look around first or maybe they recognize the rumble in their own chest right away. but they FREEZE! Because they don't know sheep can purr. They've never heard it before. And when they freeze Narinder's purr gets softer.

"Why'd you stop?" Narinder might ask, or maybe The Lamb just goes straight in, but the conversation eventually leads to Narinder telling them that sheep do purr and Lamb says this.

"I've never purred before(.!? because maybe it's just a statement or a question or a quiet exclamations)"

And Narinder (because he's at least in love with The Lamb in this if not dating/married) just- Narinder's heartbreaks. Because who wouldn't be hurt by hearing their lover/spouse state that this moment was the first they were truly happy and it was ruined by them not knowing they fucking purr. and GHOITAJan;wJAOIDNFEI! I'M NOT CRYING YOUR CRYING! I AM TOTALLY NORMAL ABOUT THIS!

Did you know sheep can purr? Now the only thing I can imagine is Lambert purring in their sleep and Narinder just hearing it for the first time

Lambert wakes up after a really good sleep just to find Narinder fully awake, fully aware and has been staring at them with blown pupils like 👁👄👁