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This is paid content only available to patrons.
This content can be downloaded by being a Arconaut+ tier patron of Freehold Games.
|
This is
paid content only available to patrons.
This content can be downloaded by being a Arconaut+ tier patron of
Freehold Games.
| This is paid content only available to patrons.
This content can only be accessed by being a Arconaut+ tier patron of Freehold Games.
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Lyy
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Character
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f
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ID ?Use this ID to Wish for Lyy |
Lyy
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Faction
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unshelled reptiles (Loved100 Reputation)
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Demeanor
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neutral
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Gender
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male
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Mutations
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Mutations
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Experience ?The XP granted when killed. Click
"toggle detailed stats" above for
a level-based breakdown. |
25 XP
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XP Tier
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0
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Role
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Unspecified
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Extra info:- This creature is pettable
- Weighs 200 lbs
Limbs* (Quadruped):
* Excludes limbs granted via mutations
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Damp pistachio skin heaves around his tiny nares like miniature foothills caught in flood. He's perched on his twiggy shanks comfortably, and his star-bright eyes watch the wide world. The floor about him is wet with the inky prints of webbed feet; the dotted baby has erupted out of the realm of the imaginary.
Perfect
Lyy is a frog supposedly sprung forth from a tattoo. Every 1000-4000 turns, Lyy will secrete 1-2 drams of 
ink. He does not participate in combat, but can be damaged. Lyy will also croak and ribbit every so often. He is pettable, but will only return the default frog pet response which is to croak.
Dialogue
*croak*
*croak*!
*ribbit*
*ribbit!*
*croak*
*croak*!
*ribbit*
*ribbit!*
*croak*
*croak*!
*ribbit*
*ribbit!*
*croak*
*croak*!
*ribbit*
*ribbit!*
*quetzal*
Recall Story
Qruu-kas had done just as the folio had instructed him: grease the motor, clean the needle, fill the pipe with ink. He'd spent from harvest dawn to the peaking of the high salt sun stitching the outline into his skin, then coloring the in-between space, until the picture on his forearm echoed the image in his head: top-down view of a tiny, green frog. And so it was with utter bewilderment that he woke the next day at jeweled dusk from a lazy nap to find the picture erased, vanished from his arm, as if he hadn't spent months saving spare drams for the instructional folio, acquiring the tattoo gun, and building up the courage to stitch the mark into his skin. He stared at his naked arm in a broad stupor and may have continued forever if he hadn't heard a low croak from the floor across the dusty room. He moved his eyes, and his astonishment was replaced with a newer and brighter astonishment. Before him, as unthinkable as it was, a tiny, live, green frog hopped onto the baseboard. In his amazement Qruu-kas let out an exotic noise from his chest and mouth, a high-pitched "lyyyyy!", and threw himself into the air. The frog barely twitched an eye before hopping out of the room.
Qruu-kas, to his credit, did not give chase but instead rushed to his tattoo gun to stare in wonderment. Before he next blinked, he was already refilling the ink.
