Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28718853-20200820153125/@comment-28358106-20200826052553

"Snow Motes are...ice. Living ice.  Like..." Finn seems to struggle to find the words. "...As I said, much like your Slimes. But instead of becoming liquid, they can become snow.  As snow, they can make themselves into any shape and harden into ice.  One Snow Mote by the name of Gerla has had the honor of being my mother's furniture for years."

He chuckles a bit at the statement. "Otherwise, they simply look human, as a blue girl, almost like crystal. They are really quite beautiful.  But they can also grow large and make many of themselves.  The castle currently has several score Gerlas."

In the other wagon, Arlmar pays close attention to the marksmen scattered around, but Hyngwar seems unfazed. She lounges back with her elbows against the back of her seat.

"Nae, we've not heard of a Matriarchy," she says, her brogue even thicker that the others', "But tha's me, mostly. Sleeping, I've been, until recently.  One gets no news with a mound above her slab.  Are they the reason there's much in your army?...Oh, what's this, now?"

She leans over a bit, trying to get a better look at the Ogre in the road.