Who are the Keylass 

The feature image is not a completely accurate depiction of Indicus-Resquire, nor the Keylass, but it'll do for the moment. the images below best represent then.

The Keylass are a group of four-foot-tall women with a singular, universal mission: to breed out violent oppressors across the realms. Unlike typical rebels, the Keylass didn’t aim to save the oppressed with grand gestures. Instead, they used their hive mind to infiltrate societies and dismantle tyranny from within, one subtle change at a time. Their telepathic connection kept them informed about injustices, ensuring no oppressive force remained hidden.

Among those they helped was Indicus-Resquire, a former Dalshaw who had once chosen death rather than allow another to suffer. While the Keylass couldn’t foresee his destiny as a Sin-Eater, they sensed his potential to disrupt the status quo. Mistral was the first to sense Indicus’ presence.

“He’s shown bravery beyond himself,” Mistral had told the Keylass. “He took another’s place to protect his people and willingly embraced death in their stead.”

Indicus’ travels eventually led him to a group of Keylass in a realm on the brink of revolution. Thanks to their quiet but persistent influence, the locals—long oppressed—were ready to rise. Indicus, with his own rebellious spirit, aligned with the Keylass. His towering presence strengthened the inhabitants’ resolve to claim their freedom.

One night, as Indicus and the Keylass shared stories over drinks, he recalled one of his oddest adventures, sparked by a Keylass’ loud belch.

“Forget the feathers—it was the fucking pipes that really got to me,” he began, grinning mischievously.

The Keylass let out a chorus of snorts, chuckles, and giggles. When they stopped, Indicus continued, and they listened eagerly.

“I’d gone to collect sins, but even though I looked like an owl—bloody weird, that—I still had the biology of a Dalshaw.”

The Keylass burst into laughter again, with one of them shooting ale out through her nostrils.

“They didn’t have any bloody toilets,” Indicus added. “Every time I took on someone’s sins, the sin just sat in my stomach… and Brenda was no help,” he said, casting a suspicious glance at the red orb hovering nearby—Brenda, was one of the infant universes he’d been entrusted to care for.

Brenda, along with Bob and Barry, had been “gifted” to Indicus after he completed one mission. It was a test he barely past. Bob and Barry? That’s another tale for another time.

“So, there I was, in Owl Land, and the sin filtered into my chasm,” he said. “But to blend in, Brenda made sure I behaved just like the locals—it happens everywhere I go. Trouble was, I only looked different. Everything else was working just fucking fine! It was the farts and belches that got me in strife.”

The Keylass, now in full swing, laughed even harder, with one burping and another fell from her stump and farted, much to Indicus’ amusement.

“Yeah, just like that, but louder and longer,” he said, raising his stein. “Cheers!”

“Cheers!” the Keylass echoed, their steins raised high.

“So anyway,” Indicus continued, after a hearty gulp of ale, “next thing I know, they‘re calling me a demon, and some bastard shot an arrow through my heart—”

“But you can’t die,” a Keylass interjected.

“And that’s the fucking problem,” Indicus said. “I’ve got a bloody chaw inside me. It makes me drop dead, and even though I could see and hear everything, it wouldn’t let me up until I was forgotten.”

“Chaw?” someone asked.

“Yeah, it’s inside every Sin-Eater,” he explained. “Anyway, back to my story. I lay there for three fucking days, right out front of the mayor’s mansion, being watched by guards… in a world that never slept.”

“Never?” a Keylass asked, intrigued.

“Yeah, they looked like owls, but there was no night. Sun all day, every day. And you know the worst part?” Indicus paused dramatically.

“What?” a Keylass, now fully invested, asked.

“I was rotting. The stench was so bad, I would’ve spewed if I could—and I was raised in the arkeen!”

The Keylass roared with laughter, knowing what the arkeen consisted of.

“So, there I was, decomposing in front of the mayor’s mansion,” Indicus said with a grimace. “It wasn’t until they dumped my body on a pile of dead owls—out of sight, out of mind—that my chaw finally kicked in and let me move.”

Indicus downed the rest of his ale and got a refill. “I portalled out of that fucking place quicker than you can say spit, gagging the whole way.”

The Keylass laughed uproariously, enjoying the absurdity of his tale—a welcome respite from their grim duties.

When the laughter subsided, the Keylass and Indicus sat in a moment of shared silence, the weight of their missions settling over them. Indicus was the first to stand.

“Well, it’s time for this little Sin-Eater to move on,” he said, feeling the pull of his next client deep in his chasm. “It’s been bloody wonderful seeing you all.”

“Remember, Indicus,” one Keylass said, her face solemn but kind, “wherever there’s oppression, we’ll be there, quietly fighting the relentless hordes.”

“Yes,” said another. “You must stop by and tell us more about your travels.”

‘Wild horses couldn’t stop me.”

Indicus smiled, knowing his journey, like theirs, was endless. The Keylass bid him farewell with their usual resolve, their spirits lifted by the owl tale—a testament to the absurdity and darkness that coexisted in the multiverse.

As Indicus walked towards a makeshift crossroads to open a portal, he turned back and said, “Love ya work, ladies. It’s fucking awesome!”

He was laughing when his portal opened, but he could still hear the Keylass’ chuckles and snorts echoing behind him.