Recent content by Itch

Claude wasn't the only one who erupted into panicked squeaks. Itch joined in when flames were summoned, and the girl threw up her hands to instinctively protect her face from being scorched, only to find, moments later, three chairs summoned... from the HELLS?! The rodent recovered swiftly...

It hardly seemed believable. A devil who didn't know what to do with souls? Was everything she ever read a lie? It wouldn't have been outrageous to believe that the devil was messing with her as a jape; they were hardly trustworthy. Then again, her father had always warned her about believing...

It was impossible to tell by the devil's interjections if she was being serious or not. Her intrigue did seem entirely genuine, but in the same breath, trusting a devil in any scenario seemed to be bad for one's soul. Itch's face scrunched like an old rag, the quandary one she was ill-prepared...

It was challenging to balance the weights of fear and outrage that swung back and forth on the see-saw of Itch's mind as the devil unhelpfully added her running commentary, feeding Claude's ego and emboldening his greed-addled potential decision. The girl felt a swelling in her chest that wanted...

Well, it didn't hurt to be polite. Since becoming part of the sodden tapestry considered filth and vermin, she had learned very swiftly that manners were entirely free and that kindness should not have existed only for those who had the means to demand it. Everybody deserved a modicum of...

It was too late. Larka had made contact with Mad Malcolm, and worst still, she had decidedly engaged in his addled delusions, asking questions that would only encourage him to talk even more. Egads! Did he have his ear in the fetid water? Even Itch baulked at the thought of plunging any part of...

The emergence of the 'nice lady' in question was quite surprising—an understatement, really. An abrupt fright of flames caused the young woman to lurch backwards with a yelp into a somewhat passable roll, all the more impressive given that her legs had been crossed moments prior. Itch looked to...

It was blissful to have a bit of peace now and again. A funny little thought given that Itch was a young woman who lived in solitude in the sewers of Alliria. One would have assumed that out of all things, she might have craved companionship, an ear to turn red with the frustrations of a day...

A silent part of her anticipated judgment. She knew, on paper, it was ridiculous to mourn the untimely death of a rat, not even a pet rat at that. A street rat, seen as wild and feral as any common pest. All they saw was a creature that brought forth disease and created infestations where they...

Try as she might, Wren was more than an aloof powderkeg feared by doors and faces alike. It might have been buried deep down, but she held a kind heart. Claude had sniffed it out long before in better times, and if Claude knew, then Itch knew. The portly rat, however, was uncharacteristically...

On an ordinary day, Itch might have better remembered that she had always found Wren's surly demeanour to be somewhat terrifying. It had been difficult to parse what was banter between friends and what was barely restrained rage, and there was always shouting, albeit mainly on Wren's part. But...

The abandoned house, luckily, had remained just that. It wasn't hard to see why, or rather smell. The neighbouring tannery was still in full swing, gifting a pungent stench of rotten flesh and urine that couldn't help but slither in through broken windows. Perhaps it was a small mercy that Itch...

It was the heist of the century. Not to those who walked tall through the city streets atop two legs, but instead to those of a rodent persuasion. The joint was Crumbs, a famous Outer City bakery renowned throughout Alliria for its fabulous pastries. Their storefront window was a magnificent...

The dread that formed in the pit of her stomach when Larka grabbed her wrist was indescribable, even more so when she turned back to see that look on the girl's face. Why, Malcolm, why? "N-no no, it's just..." Itch began to stammer in the face of grim determination, unsure how to fully define...

There was a simple joy in just listening to another person speak. Not that she wished to diminish the company of Claude and her troupe of rodent friends, but there were times when a salve of rats couldn't soothe the loneliness of her existence. Itch had learned the unfortunate way that...