Words of the Constant

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Kind

Survivor

Foul ingredient for sacrificial foods!

The stench!

'Tis a handful of seeds, for not-meat.

Ah, the sweet innocence of youth.

It came from an animal, yet is still not meat!

A woman of good taste, like mineself!

It touches meat with the fires of Hel.

An instrument of the savory.

It touches meat with the fires of Hel.

It doth not work like this.

Tis a farming weapon.

'Tis the key to treasure!

Tis the key to Valhalla's gates.

Tis a magic light, surely.

'Tis a magic light of short stature.

Small Streetlight

A weapon for wheat!

What horrid home!

'Tis full of goods.

'Tis full of goods.

Non-meat, I shall not consume thee!

Growing non-meat fungus.

'Tis vanquished.

I dare thee, provoke tears from mine eyes!

The gods shall deal with thee!

'Tis a handful of seeds, for not-meat.

I shall cook things in thee!

'Tis an instrument to vanquish food.

'Tis a fencing spear.

'Tis a Valkyrie.

Gnaw Worshipper

'Tis a Valkyrie.

Gnaw Worshipper

Water of life! But no water!

Valhalla's gate is opened to me.

Thou shalt not keep me out!

'Tis a runestone.

Remnants of a Viking funeral.

Thou cannot hide from me!

Tis slain.

Be you tasty?

It slumbers soundly.

'Tis a fancy plate.

Be it a hot spring?

Tis closed to us.

Ancient Gateway

'Tis the key to another world.

Room for more meat!

Vileness emerged from the earth.

Useful only for sacrifice.

'Tis a handful of seeds, for not-meat.

It hangeth pots.

'Tis no use to me in this form.

We shall fill thee with meat!