Gillian

BASIC DESCRIPTION


Gillian is impossible to miss on the battlefield, but they don’t seem to find it a drawback. Enemies drawn to them are quickly put on the back foot once they catch a whiff, and are instinctively reluctant to get within melee distance once they realise that Gillian is… fuzzy. Gillian is thickly crusted with some kind of cerulean fungus, from the tip of their tail to the top of their nose, ringing every joint and spilling lushly and unsettlingly out of every crevice. Their joints grind with every movement, sending little puffs of blue spores with every beat of their wings.

Is it… bad? Are they sick? Is it contagious?

“Don’t worry about it!” They chirp from behind the black shroud they wear over their nose and mouth, the muffled perkiness eerie in contrast with the blank stare of their reflective goggles.

But what does that mean though?

“It’s fine!” They say, making sure to stay downwind. They bedeck themself in flowers to cover the smell but it only adds a discordant layer of sickly sweet to the musty choking rot.

HOARD