Outside the tavern, a large shadowy, clawed hand seems to punch through the air, dragging down until it creates what looks like a literal tear in perceivable reality. Once it's large enough, a second claw shoots out, prying the tear open until it's wide enough for a large creature to step through. The claws shrink back and a tall figure, about 6'10", steps through the new portal. It's a man with a rather angelic appearance, eyes glowing with an almost ghostly radiance. He's dressed in half plated armor colored black and adorned in skeletal dragons, no visible weapons. His skin is pale and grayish, hair a stark white and messy in an almost graceful way. The most notable feature of this person though is his pair of massive black, feathered wings. The edges are white and spectral. The man approaches the tavern, ordering a white wine.
Egrien, who was training with a brightly glowing longsword, regards the newcomer curiously, as the sword flares slightly.
*He's the aasimar, right?*
The man regards him with a slight frown.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fanδ — making a smoothie for meta ——————| EXTENDED SIG |—————— Φ • redpelt’s biggest fan :) DM, minmaxer, microbiology student, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
Outside the tavern, a large shadowy, clawed hand seems to punch through the air, dragging down until it creates what looks like a literal tear in perceivable reality. Once it's large enough, a second claw shoots out, prying the tear open until it's wide enough for a large creature to step through. The claws shrink back and a tall figure, about 6'10", steps through the new portal. It's a man with a rather angelic appearance, eyes glowing with an almost ghostly radiance. He's dressed in half plated armor colored black and adorned in skeletal dragons, no visible weapons. His skin is pale and grayish, hair a stark white and messy in an almost graceful way. The most notable feature of this person though is his pair of massive black, feathered wings. The edges are white and spectral. The man approaches the tavern, ordering a white wine.
Raphael waves to the newcommer, along with bowing slightly
"No need for formalities." The man says, his voice chilling but also melodious.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fanδ — making a smoothie for meta ——————| EXTENDED SIG |—————— Φ • redpelt’s biggest fan :) DM, minmaxer, microbiology student, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
Outside the tavern, a large shadowy, clawed hand seems to punch through the air, dragging down until it creates what looks like a literal tear in perceivable reality. Once it's large enough, a second claw shoots out, prying the tear open until it's wide enough for a large creature to step through. The claws shrink back and a tall figure, about 6'10", steps through the new portal. It's a man with a rather angelic appearance, eyes glowing with an almost ghostly radiance. He's dressed in half plated armor colored black and adorned in skeletal dragons, no visible weapons. His skin is pale and grayish, hair a stark white and messy in an almost graceful way. The most notable feature of this person though is his pair of massive black, feathered wings. The edges are white and spectral. The man approaches the tavern, ordering a white wine.
Rija looks down at what she was drinking, and poors the rest off the roof
He raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fanδ — making a smoothie for meta ——————| EXTENDED SIG |—————— Φ • redpelt’s biggest fan :) DM, minmaxer, microbiology student, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
Soldaer is cooking some dinner inthe kitchen of his and Nia's treehouse while Shade reclines on the upper platform of the treehouse.
Aricyra is sitting on the roof.
Iralias is singing onstage.
*Where is Soldaer? At the treehouse? Also, how many convos at a time are you comfortable doing right now?*
*Only one per person right now.*
*Got it*
Gwen knocks on the door, having climbed up the tree
"Come in!" Soldaer says, slightly sing-song. He's obviously in a good mood for some reason.
Gwen opens the door, happy to see Soldaer again. "How is it?"
*Oh, and I have a question about Gwen's book on ediquette later*
Soldaer's smiling, his weapon's belt draped over a nearby chair as he moves back and forth doing various things making dinner. "Gwen! Good to see you. I'm doing well."
*Alright.*
"Good to hear... Is this the dinner or a dinner?" They say, looking for an apron
He laughs. "Just dinner. I'm definitely not going to be the one making THE dinner, at least not if you're referring to what I think you are." There are a couple other aprons scattered around the kitchen.
"Mmm... Understood." She says, thinking things over. "Either way, may I assist?"
He grins. "Of course! I was just preparing the Filet mignon, and some fresh bread is in the oven."
"Cool... Um... When does the bread get out?"
He chuckles. "Not exactly sure. I usually go by the smell, so there's not a definitive time."
"Mmm... And I don't want to get in-between you and the grill... Might as well scavenge for berries or something."
He laughs. "Well, what do you think would go well with the fillet mignon?" He asks. "You come up with something, and I'll let you make it."
"I have lost a lot of my baking and cooking skills after [mental arithmetic] 264 years of exile and relative poverty."
He chuckles. "Wel, sometime, I'll have to teach you, or re-teach you as the case may be." He smiles. "How about this, I have some fresh berries in the cupboards over there, as well as some nuts. I also have a head of lettuce and some radishes. While I'm working on the meat and bread, why don't you make up the salad that'll go with the bread for the first course?"
They knod, following their instructions. "So... Can we talk? Or do you need to concentrate?"
He smiles. "Of course we can talk. I need to concentrate a little, but most of this is by memory now."
"Cool... So... Did not know you were/are royality." They say, slicing and dicing
He chuckles. "Not many people do, at least outside of my homeworld."
Outside the tavern, a large shadowy, clawed hand seems to punch through the air, dragging down until it creates what looks like a literal tear in perceivable reality. Once it's large enough, a second claw shoots out, prying the tear open until it's wide enough for a large creature to step through. The claws shrink back and a tall figure, about 6'10", steps through the new portal. It's a man with a rather angelic appearance, eyes glowing with an almost ghostly radiance. He's dressed in half plated armor colored black and adorned in skeletal dragons, no visible weapons. His skin is pale and grayish, hair a stark white and messy in an almost graceful way. The most notable feature of this person though is his pair of massive black, feathered wings. The edges are white and spectral. The man approaches the tavern, ordering a white wine.
Raphael waves to the newcommer, along with bowing slightly
"No need for formalities." The man says, his voice chilling but also melodious.
"Got it. May I have a name? I'm Raphael."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
Outside the tavern, a large shadowy, clawed hand seems to punch through the air, dragging down until it creates what looks like a literal tear in perceivable reality. Once it's large enough, a second claw shoots out, prying the tear open until it's wide enough for a large creature to step through. The claws shrink back and a tall figure, about 6'10", steps through the new portal. It's a man with a rather angelic appearance, eyes glowing with an almost ghostly radiance. He's dressed in half plated armor colored black and adorned in skeletal dragons, no visible weapons. His skin is pale and grayish, hair a stark white and messy in an almost graceful way. The most notable feature of this person though is his pair of massive black, feathered wings. The edges are white and spectral. The man approaches the tavern, ordering a white wine.
Egrien, who was training with a brightly glowing longsword, regards the newcomer curiously, as the sword flares slightly.
*He's the aasimar, right?*
The man regards him with a slight frown.
*Young of the two Aasimar brothers, yes.*
He raises an eyebrow, before glancing at his sword, which seems to pulse. His brow furrows, and he looks directly at it, as though holding a telepathic conversation with it.
Soldaer is cooking some dinner inthe kitchen of his and Nia's treehouse while Shade reclines on the upper platform of the treehouse.
Aricyra is sitting on the roof.
Iralias is singing onstage.
*Where is Soldaer? At the treehouse? Also, how many convos at a time are you comfortable doing right now?*
*Only one per person right now.*
*Got it*
Gwen knocks on the door, having climbed up the tree
"Come in!" Soldaer says, slightly sing-song. He's obviously in a good mood for some reason.
Gwen opens the door, happy to see Soldaer again. "How is it?"
*Oh, and I have a question about Gwen's book on ediquette later*
Soldaer's smiling, his weapon's belt draped over a nearby chair as he moves back and forth doing various things making dinner. "Gwen! Good to see you. I'm doing well."
*Alright.*
"Good to hear... Is this the dinner or a dinner?" They say, looking for an apron
He laughs. "Just dinner. I'm definitely not going to be the one making THE dinner, at least not if you're referring to what I think you are." There are a couple other aprons scattered around the kitchen.
"Mmm... Understood." She says, thinking things over. "Either way, may I assist?"
He grins. "Of course! I was just preparing the Filet mignon, and some fresh bread is in the oven."
"Cool... Um... When does the bread get out?"
He chuckles. "Not exactly sure. I usually go by the smell, so there's not a definitive time."
"Mmm... And I don't want to get in-between you and the grill... Might as well scavenge for berries or something."
He laughs. "Well, what do you think would go well with the fillet mignon?" He asks. "You come up with something, and I'll let you make it."
"I have lost a lot of my baking and cooking skills after [mental arithmetic] 264 years of exile and relative poverty."
He chuckles. "Wel, sometime, I'll have to teach you, or re-teach you as the case may be." He smiles. "How about this, I have some fresh berries in the cupboards over there, as well as some nuts. I also have a head of lettuce and some radishes. While I'm working on the meat and bread, why don't you make up the salad that'll go with the bread for the first course?"
They knod, following their instructions. "So... Can we talk? Or do you need to concentrate?"
He smiles. "Of course we can talk. I need to concentrate a little, but most of this is by memory now."
"Cool... So... Did not know you were/are royality." They say, slicing and dicing
He chuckles. "Not many people do, at least outside of my homeworld."
"Do you attempt to hide such a position due to apathy, shyness, or desire for independence?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
Outside the tavern, a large shadowy, clawed hand seems to punch through the air, dragging down until it creates what looks like a literal tear in perceivable reality. Once it's large enough, a second claw shoots out, prying the tear open until it's wide enough for a large creature to step through. The claws shrink back and a tall figure, about 6'10", steps through the new portal. It's a man with a rather angelic appearance, eyes glowing with an almost ghostly radiance. He's dressed in half plated armor colored black and adorned in skeletal dragons, no visible weapons. His skin is pale and grayish, hair a stark white and messy in an almost graceful way. The most notable feature of this person though is his pair of massive black, feathered wings. The edges are white and spectral. The man approaches the tavern, ordering a white wine.
Raphael waves to the newcommer, along with bowing slightly
"No need for formalities." The man says, his voice chilling but also melodious.
"Got it. May I have a name? I'm Raphael."
"I am called Reverence." Raphael can identify him as a fallen solar.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fanδ — making a smoothie for meta ——————| EXTENDED SIG |—————— Φ • redpelt’s biggest fan :) DM, minmaxer, microbiology student, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
Soldaer is cooking some dinner inthe kitchen of his and Nia's treehouse while Shade reclines on the upper platform of the treehouse.
Aricyra is sitting on the roof.
Iralias is singing onstage.
*Where is Soldaer? At the treehouse? Also, how many convos at a time are you comfortable doing right now?*
*Only one per person right now.*
*Got it*
Gwen knocks on the door, having climbed up the tree
"Come in!" Soldaer says, slightly sing-song. He's obviously in a good mood for some reason.
Gwen opens the door, happy to see Soldaer again. "How is it?"
*Oh, and I have a question about Gwen's book on ediquette later*
Soldaer's smiling, his weapon's belt draped over a nearby chair as he moves back and forth doing various things making dinner. "Gwen! Good to see you. I'm doing well."
*Alright.*
"Good to hear... Is this the dinner or a dinner?" They say, looking for an apron
He laughs. "Just dinner. I'm definitely not going to be the one making THE dinner, at least not if you're referring to what I think you are." There are a couple other aprons scattered around the kitchen.
"Mmm... Understood." She says, thinking things over. "Either way, may I assist?"
He grins. "Of course! I was just preparing the Filet mignon, and some fresh bread is in the oven."
"Cool... Um... When does the bread get out?"
He chuckles. "Not exactly sure. I usually go by the smell, so there's not a definitive time."
"Mmm... And I don't want to get in-between you and the grill... Might as well scavenge for berries or something."
He laughs. "Well, what do you think would go well with the fillet mignon?" He asks. "You come up with something, and I'll let you make it."
"I have lost a lot of my baking and cooking skills after [mental arithmetic] 264 years of exile and relative poverty."
He chuckles. "Wel, sometime, I'll have to teach you, or re-teach you as the case may be." He smiles. "How about this, I have some fresh berries in the cupboards over there, as well as some nuts. I also have a head of lettuce and some radishes. While I'm working on the meat and bread, why don't you make up the salad that'll go with the bread for the first course?"
They knod, following their instructions. "So... Can we talk? Or do you need to concentrate?"
He smiles. "Of course we can talk. I need to concentrate a little, but most of this is by memory now."
"Cool... So... Did not know you were/are royality." They say, slicing and dicing
He chuckles. "Not many people do, at least outside of my homeworld."
"Do you attempt to hide such a position due to apathy, shyness, or desire for independence?"
"None of the above exactly. It was more a matter of how differently most people treated me when they knew my station."
Outside the tavern, a large shadowy, clawed hand seems to punch through the air, dragging down until it creates what looks like a literal tear in perceivable reality. Once it's large enough, a second claw shoots out, prying the tear open until it's wide enough for a large creature to step through. The claws shrink back and a tall figure, about 6'10", steps through the new portal. It's a man with a rather angelic appearance, eyes glowing with an almost ghostly radiance. He's dressed in half plated armor colored black and adorned in skeletal dragons, no visible weapons. His skin is pale and grayish, hair a stark white and messy in an almost graceful way. The most notable feature of this person though is his pair of massive black, feathered wings. The edges are white and spectral. The man approaches the tavern, ordering a white wine.
Egrien, who was training with a brightly glowing longsword, regards the newcomer curiously, as the sword flares slightly.
*He's the aasimar, right?*
The man regards him with a slight frown.
*Young of the two Aasimar brothers, yes.*
He raises an eyebrow, before glancing at his sword, which seems to pulse. His brow furrows, and he looks directly at it, as though holding a telepathic conversation with it.
Is something the matter, chosen?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fanδ — making a smoothie for meta ——————| EXTENDED SIG |—————— Φ • redpelt’s biggest fan :) DM, minmaxer, microbiology student, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
Outside the tavern, a large shadowy, clawed hand seems to punch through the air, dragging down until it creates what looks like a literal tear in perceivable reality. Once it's large enough, a second claw shoots out, prying the tear open until it's wide enough for a large creature to step through. The claws shrink back and a tall figure, about 6'10", steps through the new portal. It's a man with a rather angelic appearance, eyes glowing with an almost ghostly radiance. He's dressed in half plated armor colored black and adorned in skeletal dragons, no visible weapons. His skin is pale and grayish, hair a stark white and messy in an almost graceful way. The most notable feature of this person though is his pair of massive black, feathered wings. The edges are white and spectral. The man approaches the tavern, ordering a white wine.
Raphael waves to the newcommer, along with bowing slightly
"No need for formalities." The man says, his voice chilling but also melodious.
"Got it. May I have a name? I'm Raphael."
"I am called Reverence." Raphael can identify him as a fallen solar.
They offer a hand. "Nice to meet you. And what brings you to this fine establishment?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
Outside the tavern, a large shadowy, clawed hand seems to punch through the air, dragging down until it creates what looks like a literal tear in perceivable reality. Once it's large enough, a second claw shoots out, prying the tear open until it's wide enough for a large creature to step through. The claws shrink back and a tall figure, about 6'10", steps through the new portal. It's a man with a rather angelic appearance, eyes glowing with an almost ghostly radiance. He's dressed in half plated armor colored black and adorned in skeletal dragons, no visible weapons. His skin is pale and grayish, hair a stark white and messy in an almost graceful way. The most notable feature of this person though is his pair of massive black, feathered wings. The edges are white and spectral. The man approaches the tavern, ordering a white wine.
Egrien, who was training with a brightly glowing longsword, regards the newcomer curiously, as the sword flares slightly.
*He's the aasimar, right?*
The man regards him with a slight frown.
*Young of the two Aasimar brothers, yes.*
He raises an eyebrow, before glancing at his sword, which seems to pulse. His brow furrows, and he looks directly at it, as though holding a telepathic conversation with it.
Is something the matter, chosen?
My sword rather dislikes you, fallen. As for being a Chosen, I am not. My grandfather was a Solar, but I am no more a chosen than most other mortals.
Soldaer is cooking some dinner inthe kitchen of his and Nia's treehouse while Shade reclines on the upper platform of the treehouse.
Aricyra is sitting on the roof.
Iralias is singing onstage.
*Where is Soldaer? At the treehouse? Also, how many convos at a time are you comfortable doing right now?*
*Only one per person right now.*
*Got it*
Gwen knocks on the door, having climbed up the tree
"Come in!" Soldaer says, slightly sing-song. He's obviously in a good mood for some reason.
Gwen opens the door, happy to see Soldaer again. "How is it?"
*Oh, and I have a question about Gwen's book on ediquette later*
Soldaer's smiling, his weapon's belt draped over a nearby chair as he moves back and forth doing various things making dinner. "Gwen! Good to see you. I'm doing well."
*Alright.*
"Good to hear... Is this the dinner or a dinner?" They say, looking for an apron
He laughs. "Just dinner. I'm definitely not going to be the one making THE dinner, at least not if you're referring to what I think you are." There are a couple other aprons scattered around the kitchen.
"Mmm... Understood." She says, thinking things over. "Either way, may I assist?"
He grins. "Of course! I was just preparing the Filet mignon, and some fresh bread is in the oven."
"Cool... Um... When does the bread get out?"
He chuckles. "Not exactly sure. I usually go by the smell, so there's not a definitive time."
"Mmm... And I don't want to get in-between you and the grill... Might as well scavenge for berries or something."
He laughs. "Well, what do you think would go well with the fillet mignon?" He asks. "You come up with something, and I'll let you make it."
"I have lost a lot of my baking and cooking skills after [mental arithmetic] 264 years of exile and relative poverty."
He chuckles. "Wel, sometime, I'll have to teach you, or re-teach you as the case may be." He smiles. "How about this, I have some fresh berries in the cupboards over there, as well as some nuts. I also have a head of lettuce and some radishes. While I'm working on the meat and bread, why don't you make up the salad that'll go with the bread for the first course?"
They knod, following their instructions. "So... Can we talk? Or do you need to concentrate?"
He smiles. "Of course we can talk. I need to concentrate a little, but most of this is by memory now."
"Cool... So... Did not know you were/are royality." They say, slicing and dicing
He chuckles. "Not many people do, at least outside of my homeworld."
"Do you attempt to hide such a position due to apathy, shyness, or desire for independence?"
"None of the above exactly. It was more a matter of how differently most people treated me when they knew my station."
"So desire for independence." They add, now looking for a bowl
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
Soldaer is cooking some dinner inthe kitchen of his and Nia's treehouse while Shade reclines on the upper platform of the treehouse.
Aricyra is sitting on the roof.
Iralias is singing onstage.
*Where is Soldaer? At the treehouse? Also, how many convos at a time are you comfortable doing right now?*
*Only one per person right now.*
*Got it*
Gwen knocks on the door, having climbed up the tree
"Come in!" Soldaer says, slightly sing-song. He's obviously in a good mood for some reason.
Gwen opens the door, happy to see Soldaer again. "How is it?"
*Oh, and I have a question about Gwen's book on ediquette later*
Soldaer's smiling, his weapon's belt draped over a nearby chair as he moves back and forth doing various things making dinner. "Gwen! Good to see you. I'm doing well."
*Alright.*
"Good to hear... Is this the dinner or a dinner?" They say, looking for an apron
He laughs. "Just dinner. I'm definitely not going to be the one making THE dinner, at least not if you're referring to what I think you are." There are a couple other aprons scattered around the kitchen.
"Mmm... Understood." She says, thinking things over. "Either way, may I assist?"
He grins. "Of course! I was just preparing the Filet mignon, and some fresh bread is in the oven."
"Cool... Um... When does the bread get out?"
He chuckles. "Not exactly sure. I usually go by the smell, so there's not a definitive time."
"Mmm... And I don't want to get in-between you and the grill... Might as well scavenge for berries or something."
He laughs. "Well, what do you think would go well with the fillet mignon?" He asks. "You come up with something, and I'll let you make it."
"I have lost a lot of my baking and cooking skills after [mental arithmetic] 264 years of exile and relative poverty."
He chuckles. "Wel, sometime, I'll have to teach you, or re-teach you as the case may be." He smiles. "How about this, I have some fresh berries in the cupboards over there, as well as some nuts. I also have a head of lettuce and some radishes. While I'm working on the meat and bread, why don't you make up the salad that'll go with the bread for the first course?"
They knod, following their instructions. "So... Can we talk? Or do you need to concentrate?"
He smiles. "Of course we can talk. I need to concentrate a little, but most of this is by memory now."
"Cool... So... Did not know you were/are royality." They say, slicing and dicing
He chuckles. "Not many people do, at least outside of my homeworld."
"Do you attempt to hide such a position due to apathy, shyness, or desire for independence?"
"None of the above exactly. It was more a matter of how differently most people treated me when they knew my station."
"So desire for independence." They add, now looking for a bowl
He thinks for a minute. "I guess in a way, yes. I'm not looking to abandon my position. I just prefer being treated for who I am rather than what position I have."
Soldaer is cooking some dinner inthe kitchen of his and Nia's treehouse while Shade reclines on the upper platform of the treehouse.
Aricyra is sitting on the roof.
Iralias is singing onstage.
*Where is Soldaer? At the treehouse? Also, how many convos at a time are you comfortable doing right now?*
*Only one per person right now.*
*Got it*
Gwen knocks on the door, having climbed up the tree
"Come in!" Soldaer says, slightly sing-song. He's obviously in a good mood for some reason.
Gwen opens the door, happy to see Soldaer again. "How is it?"
*Oh, and I have a question about Gwen's book on ediquette later*
Soldaer's smiling, his weapon's belt draped over a nearby chair as he moves back and forth doing various things making dinner. "Gwen! Good to see you. I'm doing well."
*Alright.*
"Good to hear... Is this the dinner or a dinner?" They say, looking for an apron
He laughs. "Just dinner. I'm definitely not going to be the one making THE dinner, at least not if you're referring to what I think you are." There are a couple other aprons scattered around the kitchen.
"Mmm... Understood." She says, thinking things over. "Either way, may I assist?"
He grins. "Of course! I was just preparing the Filet mignon, and some fresh bread is in the oven."
"Cool... Um... When does the bread get out?"
He chuckles. "Not exactly sure. I usually go by the smell, so there's not a definitive time."
"Mmm... And I don't want to get in-between you and the grill... Might as well scavenge for berries or something."
He laughs. "Well, what do you think would go well with the fillet mignon?" He asks. "You come up with something, and I'll let you make it."
"I have lost a lot of my baking and cooking skills after [mental arithmetic] 264 years of exile and relative poverty."
He chuckles. "Wel, sometime, I'll have to teach you, or re-teach you as the case may be." He smiles. "How about this, I have some fresh berries in the cupboards over there, as well as some nuts. I also have a head of lettuce and some radishes. While I'm working on the meat and bread, why don't you make up the salad that'll go with the bread for the first course?"
They knod, following their instructions. "So... Can we talk? Or do you need to concentrate?"
He smiles. "Of course we can talk. I need to concentrate a little, but most of this is by memory now."
"Cool... So... Did not know you were/are royality." They say, slicing and dicing
He chuckles. "Not many people do, at least outside of my homeworld."
"Do you attempt to hide such a position due to apathy, shyness, or desire for independence?"
"None of the above exactly. It was more a matter of how differently most people treated me when they knew my station."
"So desire for independence." They add, now looking for a bowl
He thinks for a minute. "I guess in a way, yes. I'm not looking to abandon my position. I just prefer being treated for who I am rather than what position I have."
"Which is independence, independence from bias and that desire is... Understandible. Your mother is quiet... The conversationist and charming."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
Outside the tavern, a large shadowy, clawed hand seems to punch through the air, dragging down until it creates what looks like a literal tear in perceivable reality. Once it's large enough, a second claw shoots out, prying the tear open until it's wide enough for a large creature to step through. The claws shrink back and a tall figure, about 6'10", steps through the new portal. It's a man with a rather angelic appearance, eyes glowing with an almost ghostly radiance. He's dressed in half plated armor colored black and adorned in skeletal dragons, no visible weapons. His skin is pale and grayish, hair a stark white and messy in an almost graceful way. The most notable feature of this person though is his pair of massive black, feathered wings. The edges are white and spectral. The man approaches the tavern, ordering a white wine.
Raphael waves to the newcommer, along with bowing slightly
"No need for formalities." The man says, his voice chilling but also melodious.
"Got it. May I have a name? I'm Raphael."
"I am called Reverence." Raphael can identify him as a fallen solar.
They offer a hand. "Nice to meet you. And what brings you to this fine establishment?"
He shakes it politely. "My travels. I am simply resting."
*Perception check.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fanδ — making a smoothie for meta ——————| EXTENDED SIG |—————— Φ • redpelt’s biggest fan :) DM, minmaxer, microbiology student, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
*He's the aasimar, right?*
The man regards him with a slight frown.
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fan δ —
making a smoothie for meta
——————| EXTENDED SIG |——————
Φ • redpelt’s biggest fan :) DM, minmaxer, microbiology student, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
"....have i talked to you before? I swear i've answered that question."
I play a miriad of characters at the lord's rest inn
Two things are infinite: The universe, and human stupidity; and I'm not so sure about the universe.
Scifi horror is quite the trip :) Comics and a story
#FreeDND
"No need for formalities." The man says, his voice chilling but also melodious.
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fan δ —
making a smoothie for meta
——————| EXTENDED SIG |——————
Φ • redpelt’s biggest fan :) DM, minmaxer, microbiology student, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
He raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment.
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fan δ —
making a smoothie for meta
——————| EXTENDED SIG |——————
Φ • redpelt’s biggest fan :) DM, minmaxer, microbiology student, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
He chuckles. "Not many people do, at least outside of my homeworld."
"Got it. May I have a name? I'm Raphael."
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
*Alaric, need me to repost?*
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
*Young of the two Aasimar brothers, yes.*
He raises an eyebrow, before glancing at his sword, which seems to pulse. His brow furrows, and he looks directly at it, as though holding a telepathic conversation with it.
"Do you attempt to hide such a position due to apathy, shyness, or desire for independence?"
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
"I am called Reverence." Raphael can identify him as a fallen solar.
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fan δ —
making a smoothie for meta
——————| EXTENDED SIG |——————
Φ • redpelt’s biggest fan :) DM, minmaxer, microbiology student, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
"None of the above exactly. It was more a matter of how differently most people treated me when they knew my station."
Is something the matter, chosen?
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fan δ —
making a smoothie for meta
——————| EXTENDED SIG |——————
Φ • redpelt’s biggest fan :) DM, minmaxer, microbiology student, and lover of anything colored red • Φ
They offer a hand. "Nice to meet you. And what brings you to this fine establishment?"
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
My sword rather dislikes you, fallen. As for being a Chosen, I am not. My grandfather was a Solar, but I am no more a chosen than most other mortals.
"So desire for independence." They add, now looking for a bowl
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
He thinks for a minute. "I guess in a way, yes. I'm not looking to abandon my position. I just prefer being treated for who I am rather than what position I have."
"Which is independence, independence from bias and that desire is... Understandible. Your mother is quiet... The conversationist and charming."
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
*Hi, i'm back. What have i missed?*
I play a miriad of characters at the lord's rest inn
Two things are infinite: The universe, and human stupidity; and I'm not so sure about the universe.
Scifi horror is quite the trip :) Comics and a story
#FreeDND
*Not much. Want me to repost Convo?*
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
He shakes it politely. "My travels. I am simply resting."
*Perception check.*
— δ cyno • he/him • number one paladin fan δ —
making a smoothie for meta
——————| EXTENDED SIG |——————
Φ • redpelt’s biggest fan :) DM, minmaxer, microbiology student, and lover of anything colored red • Φ