The inn was full of the usual patrons. A barwench was giving beers to them when a scream was heard. Everyone started looking around to see what happened when a robed man entered the inn with a scrowl on his face.

The beast, a thing from a world unknown to you or I, was given the name scrowl due to its uncommonly similar appearance to the native Scampering Owl of the [/i]Fotestae Uller[/i] genus. The scream came from a woman who had spotted the scrowl on this robed man first, and for good reason, as it appeared that the scrowl had bound itself to this robed man's face!

A flash of lightning followed by a boom of thunder echoed his entrance into the crowded tavern, and the tension rose as the robed man drew himself up into a proud, almost superior stance, his half-scrowl, half-human face peered from person to person, before catching the eye of the bartender who had been vigorously scrubbing bloodied battleaxes up to this point. The two locked eyes, and the scrowl-plagued man stalked up to the bar, took a fellow patron's drink, hooted softly, and then set the drink back down on the bar. In a deep, booming, squawk, he proclaimed,

"I... am SCROWL-MAN!"

*Cue Scrowlman's Theme-song*

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Setting; The City of Motham, beginning in the Lie-Down Larvae Inn and Tavern

Genre; Dark edgy comic from the 90's