02/23/2025 Snippet, PICKMAN’S MODELS.

Decided to drag Pickman along to the site! I’m sure it’ll be fine.

The mural Pickman had illuminated with his headlamp was… well, it was ugly, and there was no getting around it. It didn’t even have the dubious virtue of technical skill; the artist had pounded and smeared it onto the rock wall using whatever materials were at hand. Possibly literally, Tobias thought as he unfocused his eyes just enough to not dwell on the details. You can always get brown and red that way.

“That’s Steelfang, right?” Buckley growled. “The Red Imperial god of death?”

“One of them, yes,” Tobias replied, with utter calm. “He was also sort of their god of farming. That’s why his mouth looks like a scythe, the better to reap his victims. The cult thought blood makes the grain grow. Somebody give me a good reason not to burn that damned thing off the wall.”

“It’s not smart to destroy things we don’t understand?” offered Pickman.

“You should treasure your naivete, Mr. Pickman,” Tobias told him. “I’m amazed you’ve still kept any around, this long. Anybody else?”

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