A tomb guardian stood motionless to the right of the door. He looked almost dead. Simply frozen in place with his hands across his chest. Seemed to almost hibernate. Maybe that why they live so long and seem to regenerate when damaged.
His head snaps to the side and his gaze focuses on a small skink approaching. The guardian growls in a low and ratting tone.
The skinks scampers up to the guardians feets and looks up. He smiles and gives a friendly wave.
The guardian finished his assessment of the creature and goes back to his still and straight forward stance.
The skink shrugs and takes post on the other side of the door. They seem like the most miss matched guardsmen ever.
They stand for a few seconds still… then the skink begins to fidget. Then his face lights up with a thought. He rifles thru his pockets. Fingers fly as he searches. Then he produces something with a smile. A piece of parchment that has been long worn from it’s travels.
He carefully smooths it outs. Then he double checks it to make sure that it is still accurate.
He smirks and shows it to the guardian.
The guardian ignores him.
The skink points at it to try to gain the attention of the guardian.
Still no reaction.
The skink places the sign at his feet and the mimics the guardians stoic stance.
The sign reads,
Will Bloodbowl for food… Also, I’m not food!”