“I hadn’t considered them being easier to test.. good point. Have you made variations of other cantrips, then?”
"Not yet. It takes forever, and I've been working on something else for a bit. Someone here named Zya was kind enough to offer me books on how to make it more efficient." He gestures to the inactive mechanical warg in the corner that seems to have a parking boot on its foot.
Egrien is just standing there still, rod leveled at the now overturned SUV.
His Coautl, Soldaer, and Shade all take off towards the SUV, while Reirlin stays with his brother.
The front engine of the suv is smoking, and a large amount of a red substance is smeared on the rear passenger window.
Soldaer shouts back towards the two brothers. "Hey, need some help! Avery's definitely injured at the least!"
Reirlin and Egrien both take off, flying as fast as possible at that. They land next to Soldaer, taking in the scene. Reirlin is obviously shocked, as is Soldaer, but Egrien is still standing there stonefaced.
*Is the SUV on its side, upside down, or right side up? I know you said it went into a roll*
*Upside down*
Theres not really any noise coming from the car, besides the sound of smoke wisping up into the air
Reirlin attempts to open the passenger door.
*Athletics check: 24*
*P.S. Would've been the same for a pure strength check too*
He's able to snap the lock keeping the door shut, opening the car door, which lets out larger plumes of smoke
Soldaer crawls into the overturned SUV, part of his cloak pulled over his mouth and nose to keep the smoke out. He looks around for Avery.
*Investigation or perception?*
*Investigation, and a con save for the smoke*
*Investigation: 10. Con Save: 9*
He isn't able to find anything before the smoke starts to become hard to handle. if he wants to stay in the car longer, he begins to take damage akin to suffocation from smoke
Soldaer pulls out, coughing. He gestures that he couldn't find anything, and that Reirlin should try.
*rolls for Reirlin: Investigation: 26. Con Save: 13.*
*Fixing for the proper con save, Soladaer is easily able to find an unconcious Avery pinned under a broken seat, blood seeping from the wound on his head
In a burst of flame, Avery disappears.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
All stars fade. Some stars forever fall. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Homebrew (Mostly Outdated):Magic Items,Monsters,Spells,Subclasses ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If there was no light, people wouldn't fear the dark.
All stars fade. Some stars forever fall. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Homebrew (Mostly Outdated):Magic Items,Monsters,Spells,Subclasses ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If there was no light, people wouldn't fear the dark.
NNCHRIS: SOUL THIEF, MASTER OF THE ARCANE, AND KING OF NEW YORKNN Gdl Creator of Ilheia and her Knights of the Fallen Stars ldG Lesser Student of Technomancy [undergrad student in computer science] Supporter of the 2014 rules, and a MASSIVE Homebrewer. Come to me all ye who seek salvation in wording thy brews! Open to homebrew trades at any time!! Or feel free to request HB, and Ill see if I can get it done for ya! Characters (Outdated)
All stars fade. Some stars forever fall. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Homebrew (Mostly Outdated):Magic Items,Monsters,Spells,Subclasses ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If there was no light, people wouldn't fear the dark.
*A good morning to everyone, Im reliving old memories of being a DC fan.*
Adder's old room was currently being used. The being using it slept in the bed restlessly. He was in a dreamless state as he tossed and turned. Eventually he came too, it was Adder but also not him. The entire right side of his face was burned deeply into deep red scars and such. He rolled himself off the bed, talking to himself.
Allison was sitting outside, she was enjoying the nippy morning weather while she walked around the tavern. She wore a thick black dress with a grey sweater and boots. She carried a basket full of fresh but half frozen vegetables and fruits she had gotten from her garden.
Oritsu was attached to Taceli's horn currently. His golden warm aura shone lightly in the morning light.
Frathian is bored, but also confused. He's taken to throwing a ball against the wall, and thinking hard as to why he's here, what he's supposed to do, and how the heck was he supposed to know that Allison person? Suddenly, the ball hits his table, (where Krathian always sat) and an amulet falls into his lap, wrapped in cloth. It bears six words: "For Krathian, Do Not Open, -Krathian." "Well this is certainly confusing..." Frathian thought to himself, and felt around the bottom of the table, into which was scratched the words. "Ask Allison for Journal" "Hmmm... her again." he thought, curious as to why she kept coming up.
Tara is playing Rhiannon on the bagpipes on the roof, while you can't tell from her face (as one must often contort one's face to play the bagpipes) she is quite pleased and content. She's forgotten about that awful experience with memories the other day. She's getting ready for a new job and has the potential prospect of burning more things to the ground (Excited gasp) and of course the gold that comes at the end.
Jim is hiding out in the shed now, having produced a scrapbook he's looking through. Scrum sits on his shoulder as he thinks about all the time he's spent in hiding, first from his family, then his guild, and now ... this. He sighs, not sure if he can keep doing it but sure he can do nothing else. He hugs his knees and quietly cries to himself, feeling pointless.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hi, I am not a chest. I deny with 100% certainty that I am a chest. I can neither confirm nor deny what I am beyond that.
I used to portray Krathian, Q'ilbrith, Jim, Tara, Turin, Nathan, Tench, Finn, Alvin, and other characters in various taverns.
Theren is looking through an old book of his. The front of the book has interesting symbols on the front.
Ares is napping.
*Now time for a new character that I thought up last night!*
A man wearing a tree bark mask walks into the tavern. His black pants are torn and dirty. The black shirt that he wears has spots of crimson that look like blood. His shoes are caked in mud. Some black hair pokes out from the back of the mask and the black cloak he wears has more crimson color and mud. He surveys the tavern before sitting down and muttering to himself.
Theren is looking through an old book of his. The front of the book has interesting symbols on the front.
Ares is napping.
*Now time for a new character that I thought up last night!*
A man wearing a tree bark mask walks into the tavern. His black pants are torn and dirty. The black shirt that he wears has spots of crimson that look like blood. His shoes are caked in mud. Some black hair pokes out from the back of the mask and the black cloak he wears has more crimson color and mud. He surveys the tavern before sitting down and muttering to himself.
Thirteen goes over to him. "Hey Ares. It's time for your next lesson." He says gently.
Smoke and fire rained down like angels coming from the heavens, except this was no heaven and everyone was going to die much to fates careful planning.
A bomb hit the dusty dry earth and sent up not only a large fiery bang but a huge amount of dust, from that dust someone ran through, a young man.
He wore a black tank-top that shone with metal fibers that had been sewn into it, thick black pants that were now coated in dust and blood, thick leather boots that had dried dirt and dust upon them, military style black gloves, and a bandages around his neck and chest.
He had short dark brown hair, like that of the earth around him that was getting turned up with every bomb or firestick that fell upon its crust. Fair skin that was tanned around his arms, cheeks, and nose from being out in the sun all day, and pure green eyes that had darker coppery flecks around the center and pupil. Blood trickled down his forehead and into his left eye like a crimson paint splotch. His skin was slick with sweat as he hurdled himself over enemy lines.
He carried nothing, no gun, no sort of weapon as he single-handily charged right for an armored tank that stood in his way. With what seemed like no effort at all, the young man raised his fist and punched right through the hulk of the tank, sending it into the ground and backwards.
He screamed something that sounded like built up primal rage before attacking yet another tank with ease. The army ran in behind him and begin firing shot after shot at their opposers as the young man, Logan Hoffmann, nailed every single defense they had.
A man, about 5'11, walked in. He wore a thick black tank-top that seemed to shine with woven fibers of iron, thick black trousers that were covered in dust, a pair of thick boots, and a brown leather jacket with yellow sheep's wool in-lining. He had bandages wrapped around his neck and shoulders. He had light sandy brown hair and fair skin that was tanned around his cheeks and nose, his light blue eyes were kept steady as he walked directly up to the bar and ordered a beer. He had a rifle strapped to his back and a pistol and revolver strapped to his waist and upper thigh.
Klei slides the man his drink. "Welcome to the Tavern at the End of the World. It's a nice enough place when ghouls, gods, and forces of pure evil aren't ravaging this place."
Smoke and fire rained down like angels coming from the heavens, except this was no heaven and everyone was going to die much to fates careful planning.
A bomb hit the dusty dry earth and sent up not only a large fiery bang but a huge amount of dust, from that dust someone ran through, a young man.
He wore a black tank-top that shone with metal fibers that had been sewn into it, thick black pants that were now coated in dust and blood, thick leather boots that had dried dirt and dust upon them, military style black gloves, and a bandages around his neck and chest.
He had short dark brown hair, like that of the earth around him that was getting turned up with every bomb or firestick that fell upon its crust. Fair skin that was tanned around his arms, cheeks, and nose from being out in the sun all day, and pure green eyes that had darker coppery flecks around the center and pupil. Blood trickled down his forehead and into his left eye like a crimson paint splotch. His skin was slick with sweat as he hurdled himself over enemy lines.
He carried nothing, no gun, no sort of weapon as he single-handily charged right for an armored tank that stood in his way. With what seemed like no effort at all, the young man raised his fist and punched right through the hulk of the tank, sending it into the ground and backwards.
He screamed something that sounded like built up primal rage before attacking yet another tank with ease. The army ran in behind him and begin firing shot after shot at their opposers as the young man, Logan Hoffmann, nailed every single defense they had.
A man, about 5'11, walked in. He wore a thick black tank-top that seemed to shine with woven fibers of iron, thick black trousers that were covered in dust, a pair of thick boots, and a brown leather jacket with yellow sheep's wool in-lining. He had bandages wrapped around his neck and shoulders. He had light sandy brown hair and fair skin that was tanned around his cheeks and nose, his light blue eyes were kept steady as he walked directly up to the bar and ordered a beer. He had a rifle strapped to his back and a pistol and revolver strapped to his waist and upper thigh.
Klei slides the man his drink. "Welcome to the Tavern at the End of the World. It's a nice enough place when ghouls, gods, and forces of pure evil aren't ravaging this place."
The man watched him for a second, eyes narrowing as he filled a revolver with bullets.
Smoke and fire rained down like angels coming from the heavens, except this was no heaven and everyone was going to die much to fates careful planning.
A bomb hit the dusty dry earth and sent up not only a large fiery bang but a huge amount of dust, from that dust someone ran through, a young man.
He wore a black tank-top that shone with metal fibers that had been sewn into it, thick black pants that were now coated in dust and blood, thick leather boots that had dried dirt and dust upon them, military style black gloves, and a bandages around his neck and chest.
He had short dark brown hair, like that of the earth around him that was getting turned up with every bomb or firestick that fell upon its crust. Fair skin that was tanned around his arms, cheeks, and nose from being out in the sun all day, and pure green eyes that had darker coppery flecks around the center and pupil. Blood trickled down his forehead and into his left eye like a crimson paint splotch. His skin was slick with sweat as he hurdled himself over enemy lines.
He carried nothing, no gun, no sort of weapon as he single-handily charged right for an armored tank that stood in his way. With what seemed like no effort at all, the young man raised his fist and punched right through the hulk of the tank, sending it into the ground and backwards.
He screamed something that sounded like built up primal rage before attacking yet another tank with ease. The army ran in behind him and begin firing shot after shot at their opposers as the young man, Logan Hoffmann, nailed every single defense they had.
A man, about 5'11, walked in. He wore a thick black tank-top that seemed to shine with woven fibers of iron, thick black trousers that were covered in dust, a pair of thick boots, and a brown leather jacket with yellow sheep's wool in-lining. He had bandages wrapped around his neck and shoulders. He had light sandy brown hair and fair skin that was tanned around his cheeks and nose, his light blue eyes were kept steady as he walked directly up to the bar and ordered a beer. He had a rifle strapped to his back and a pistol and revolver strapped to his waist and upper thigh.
Klei slides the man his drink. "Welcome to the Tavern at the End of the World. It's a nice enough place when ghouls, gods, and forces of pure evil aren't ravaging this place."
The man watched him for a second, eyes narrowing as he filled a revolver with bullets.
"Don't bother trying, I'm too fast for your puny gun. And you can't hurt me anyway, there's a magic blessing shield thingy that keeps anything from getting hurt." Klei says, casually taking out enough knives to murder a small nation.
Smoke and fire rained down like angels coming from the heavens, except this was no heaven and everyone was going to die much to fates careful planning.
A bomb hit the dusty dry earth and sent up not only a large fiery bang but a huge amount of dust, from that dust someone ran through, a young man.
He wore a black tank-top that shone with metal fibers that had been sewn into it, thick black pants that were now coated in dust and blood, thick leather boots that had dried dirt and dust upon them, military style black gloves, and a bandages around his neck and chest.
He had short dark brown hair, like that of the earth around him that was getting turned up with every bomb or firestick that fell upon its crust. Fair skin that was tanned around his arms, cheeks, and nose from being out in the sun all day, and pure green eyes that had darker coppery flecks around the center and pupil. Blood trickled down his forehead and into his left eye like a crimson paint splotch. His skin was slick with sweat as he hurdled himself over enemy lines.
He carried nothing, no gun, no sort of weapon as he single-handily charged right for an armored tank that stood in his way. With what seemed like no effort at all, the young man raised his fist and punched right through the hulk of the tank, sending it into the ground and backwards.
He screamed something that sounded like built up primal rage before attacking yet another tank with ease. The army ran in behind him and begin firing shot after shot at their opposers as the young man, Logan Hoffmann, nailed every single defense they had.
A man, about 5'11, walked in. He wore a thick black tank-top that seemed to shine with woven fibers of iron, thick black trousers that were covered in dust, a pair of thick boots, and a brown leather jacket with yellow sheep's wool in-lining. He had bandages wrapped around his neck and shoulders. He had light sandy brown hair and fair skin that was tanned around his cheeks and nose, his light blue eyes were kept steady as he walked directly up to the bar and ordered a beer. He had a rifle strapped to his back and a pistol and revolver strapped to his waist and upper thigh.
Klei slides the man his drink. "Welcome to the Tavern at the End of the World. It's a nice enough place when ghouls, gods, and forces of pure evil aren't ravaging this place."
The man watched him for a second, eyes narrowing as he filled a revolver with bullets.
"Don't bother trying, I'm too fast for your puny gun. And you can't hurt me anyway, there's a magic blessing shield thingy that keeps anything from getting hurt." Klei says, casually taking out enough knives to murder a small nation.
"I never meant to seem like i was threatening you" he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes
Smoke and fire rained down like angels coming from the heavens, except this was no heaven and everyone was going to die much to fates careful planning.
A bomb hit the dusty dry earth and sent up not only a large fiery bang but a huge amount of dust, from that dust someone ran through, a young man.
He wore a black tank-top that shone with metal fibers that had been sewn into it, thick black pants that were now coated in dust and blood, thick leather boots that had dried dirt and dust upon them, military style black gloves, and a bandages around his neck and chest.
He had short dark brown hair, like that of the earth around him that was getting turned up with every bomb or firestick that fell upon its crust. Fair skin that was tanned around his arms, cheeks, and nose from being out in the sun all day, and pure green eyes that had darker coppery flecks around the center and pupil. Blood trickled down his forehead and into his left eye like a crimson paint splotch. His skin was slick with sweat as he hurdled himself over enemy lines.
He carried nothing, no gun, no sort of weapon as he single-handily charged right for an armored tank that stood in his way. With what seemed like no effort at all, the young man raised his fist and punched right through the hulk of the tank, sending it into the ground and backwards.
He screamed something that sounded like built up primal rage before attacking yet another tank with ease. The army ran in behind him and begin firing shot after shot at their opposers as the young man, Logan Hoffmann, nailed every single defense they had.
A man, about 5'11, walked in. He wore a thick black tank-top that seemed to shine with woven fibers of iron, thick black trousers that were covered in dust, a pair of thick boots, and a brown leather jacket with yellow sheep's wool in-lining. He had bandages wrapped around his neck and shoulders. He had light sandy brown hair and fair skin that was tanned around his cheeks and nose, his light blue eyes were kept steady as he walked directly up to the bar and ordered a beer. He had a rifle strapped to his back and a pistol and revolver strapped to his waist and upper thigh.
Klei slides the man his drink. "Welcome to the Tavern at the End of the World. It's a nice enough place when ghouls, gods, and forces of pure evil aren't ravaging this place."
The man watched him for a second, eyes narrowing as he filled a revolver with bullets.
"Don't bother trying, I'm too fast for your puny gun. And you can't hurt me anyway, there's a magic blessing shield thingy that keeps anything from getting hurt." Klei says, casually taking out enough knives to murder a small nation.
"I never meant to seem like i was threatening you" he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes
"Well that's good!" Klei says happily. "Can I get you any food? It's nice to not start the day with my life in danger."
Smoke and fire rained down like angels coming from the heavens, except this was no heaven and everyone was going to die much to fates careful planning.
A bomb hit the dusty dry earth and sent up not only a large fiery bang but a huge amount of dust, from that dust someone ran through, a young man.
He wore a black tank-top that shone with metal fibers that had been sewn into it, thick black pants that were now coated in dust and blood, thick leather boots that had dried dirt and dust upon them, military style black gloves, and a bandages around his neck and chest.
He had short dark brown hair, like that of the earth around him that was getting turned up with every bomb or firestick that fell upon its crust. Fair skin that was tanned around his arms, cheeks, and nose from being out in the sun all day, and pure green eyes that had darker coppery flecks around the center and pupil. Blood trickled down his forehead and into his left eye like a crimson paint splotch. His skin was slick with sweat as he hurdled himself over enemy lines.
He carried nothing, no gun, no sort of weapon as he single-handily charged right for an armored tank that stood in his way. With what seemed like no effort at all, the young man raised his fist and punched right through the hulk of the tank, sending it into the ground and backwards.
He screamed something that sounded like built up primal rage before attacking yet another tank with ease. The army ran in behind him and begin firing shot after shot at their opposers as the young man, Logan Hoffmann, nailed every single defense they had.
A man, about 5'11, walked in. He wore a thick black tank-top that seemed to shine with woven fibers of iron, thick black trousers that were covered in dust, a pair of thick boots, and a brown leather jacket with yellow sheep's wool in-lining. He had bandages wrapped around his neck and shoulders. He had light sandy brown hair and fair skin that was tanned around his cheeks and nose, his light blue eyes were kept steady as he walked directly up to the bar and ordered a beer. He had a rifle strapped to his back and a pistol and revolver strapped to his waist and upper thigh.
Klei slides the man his drink. "Welcome to the Tavern at the End of the World. It's a nice enough place when ghouls, gods, and forces of pure evil aren't ravaging this place."
The man watched him for a second, eyes narrowing as he filled a revolver with bullets.
"Don't bother trying, I'm too fast for your puny gun. And you can't hurt me anyway, there's a magic blessing shield thingy that keeps anything from getting hurt." Klei says, casually taking out enough knives to murder a small nation.
"I never meant to seem like i was threatening you" he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes
"Well that's good!" Klei says happily. "Can I get you any food? It's nice to not start the day with my life in danger."
"Just the drink please" he said and restrapped his revolver back in its holster
NNCHRIS: SOUL THIEF, MASTER OF THE ARCANE, AND KING OF NEW YORKNN Gdl Creator of Ilheia and her Knights of the Fallen Stars ldG Lesser Student of Technomancy [undergrad student in computer science] Supporter of the 2014 rules, and a MASSIVE Homebrewer. Come to me all ye who seek salvation in wording thy brews! Open to homebrew trades at any time!! Or feel free to request HB, and Ill see if I can get it done for ya! Characters (Outdated)
NNCHRIS: SOUL THIEF, MASTER OF THE ARCANE, AND KING OF NEW YORKNN Gdl Creator of Ilheia and her Knights of the Fallen Stars ldG Lesser Student of Technomancy [undergrad student in computer science] Supporter of the 2014 rules, and a MASSIVE Homebrewer. Come to me all ye who seek salvation in wording thy brews! Open to homebrew trades at any time!! Or feel free to request HB, and Ill see if I can get it done for ya! Characters (Outdated)
“Is that an automaton?” Yorac sounds impressed.
I can’t remember what’s supposed to go here.
In a burst of flame, Avery disappears.
All stars fade. Some stars forever fall.
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Homebrew (Mostly Outdated): Magic Items, Monsters, Spells, Subclasses
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If there was no light, people wouldn't fear the dark.
*Hello!*
All stars fade. Some stars forever fall.
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Homebrew (Mostly Outdated): Magic Items, Monsters, Spells, Subclasses
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If there was no light, people wouldn't fear the dark.
*Hi!*
NNCHRIS: SOUL THIEF, MASTER OF THE ARCANE, AND KING OF NEW YORKNN
Gdl Creator of Ilheia and her Knights of the Fallen Stars ldG
Lesser Student of Technomancy [undergrad student in computer science]
Supporter of the 2014 rules, and a MASSIVE Homebrewer. Come to me all ye who seek salvation in wording thy brews!
Open to homebrew trades at any time!! Or feel free to request HB, and Ill see if I can get it done for ya!
Characters (Outdated)
*GTG, bye!*
All stars fade. Some stars forever fall.
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Homebrew (Mostly Outdated): Magic Items, Monsters, Spells, Subclasses
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If there was no light, people wouldn't fear the dark.
*A good morning to everyone, Im reliving old memories of being a DC fan.*
Adder's old room was currently being used. The being using it slept in the bed restlessly. He was in a dreamless state as he tossed and turned. Eventually he came too, it was Adder but also not him. The entire right side of his face was burned deeply into deep red scars and such. He rolled himself off the bed, talking to himself.
Allison was sitting outside, she was enjoying the nippy morning weather while she walked around the tavern. She wore a thick black dress with a grey sweater and boots. She carried a basket full of fresh but half frozen vegetables and fruits she had gotten from her garden.
Oritsu was attached to Taceli's horn currently. His golden warm aura shone lightly in the morning light.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*G'morning everyone.*
Frathian is bored, but also confused. He's taken to throwing a ball against the wall, and thinking hard as to why he's here, what he's supposed to do, and how the heck was he supposed to know that Allison person? Suddenly, the ball hits his table, (where Krathian always sat) and an amulet falls into his lap, wrapped in cloth. It bears six words: "For Krathian, Do Not Open, -Krathian." "Well this is certainly confusing..." Frathian thought to himself, and felt around the bottom of the table, into which was scratched the words. "Ask Allison for Journal" "Hmmm... her again." he thought, curious as to why she kept coming up.
Tara is playing Rhiannon on the bagpipes on the roof, while you can't tell from her face (as one must often contort one's face to play the bagpipes) she is quite pleased and content. She's forgotten about that awful experience with memories the other day. She's getting ready for a new job and has the potential prospect of burning more things to the ground (Excited gasp) and of course the gold that comes at the end.
Jim is hiding out in the shed now, having produced a scrapbook he's looking through. Scrum sits on his shoulder as he thinks about all the time he's spent in hiding, first from his family, then his guild, and now ... this. He sighs, not sure if he can keep doing it but sure he can do nothing else. He hugs his knees and quietly cries to himself, feeling pointless.
Hi, I am not a chest. I deny with 100% certainty that I am a chest. I can neither confirm nor deny what I am beyond that.
I used to portray Krathian, Q'ilbrith, Jim, Tara, Turin, Nathan, Tench, Finn, Alvin, and other characters in various taverns.
I also do homebrew, check out my Spells and Magic Items
"That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange eons, even death may die"
*Morning*
Theren is looking through an old book of his. The front of the book has interesting symbols on the front.
Ares is napping.
*Now time for a new character that I thought up last night!*
A man wearing a tree bark mask walks into the tavern. His black pants are torn and dirty. The black shirt that he wears has spots of crimson that look like blood. His shoes are caked in mud. Some black hair pokes out from the back of the mask and the black cloak he wears has more crimson color and mud. He surveys the tavern before sitting down and muttering to himself.
Join the Town of Agreal! ----> LINK
Check out my photography on Flickr. ----> LINK
"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken." - Oscar Wilde
*Hello everyone, I have developed a deep fear of returning to school from the weekend. :D*
Thirteen has planned his curriculum around a rainy day, and today is one, so he plans to teach Ares shocking grasp.
Klei is mercilessly attacking a rutabaga with a knife.
Kharrashim is having a blueberry waffle.
I am an Arachpriest, Cat Cultist, Sauce Monk, Angel of Death, and First Spinjitzu Master.
I play Thirteen the necromancer elf, Timber the tabaxi child, and more at the tavern. Hope you like yams!
Oh yeah, don't forget to be kind and loving and stuff. Not on during weekends.
Thirteen goes over to him. "Hey Ares. It's time for your next lesson." He says gently.
I am an Arachpriest, Cat Cultist, Sauce Monk, Angel of Death, and First Spinjitzu Master.
I play Thirteen the necromancer elf, Timber the tabaxi child, and more at the tavern. Hope you like yams!
Oh yeah, don't forget to be kind and loving and stuff. Not on during weekends.
Klei slides the man his drink. "Welcome to the Tavern at the End of the World. It's a nice enough place when ghouls, gods, and forces of pure evil aren't ravaging this place."
I am an Arachpriest, Cat Cultist, Sauce Monk, Angel of Death, and First Spinjitzu Master.
I play Thirteen the necromancer elf, Timber the tabaxi child, and more at the tavern. Hope you like yams!
Oh yeah, don't forget to be kind and loving and stuff. Not on during weekends.
The man watched him for a second, eyes narrowing as he filled a revolver with bullets.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"Don't bother trying, I'm too fast for your puny gun. And you can't hurt me anyway, there's a magic blessing shield thingy that keeps anything from getting hurt." Klei says, casually taking out enough knives to murder a small nation.
I am an Arachpriest, Cat Cultist, Sauce Monk, Angel of Death, and First Spinjitzu Master.
I play Thirteen the necromancer elf, Timber the tabaxi child, and more at the tavern. Hope you like yams!
Oh yeah, don't forget to be kind and loving and stuff. Not on during weekends.
"I never meant to seem like i was threatening you" he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"Well that's good!" Klei says happily. "Can I get you any food? It's nice to not start the day with my life in danger."
I am an Arachpriest, Cat Cultist, Sauce Monk, Angel of Death, and First Spinjitzu Master.
I play Thirteen the necromancer elf, Timber the tabaxi child, and more at the tavern. Hope you like yams!
Oh yeah, don't forget to be kind and loving and stuff. Not on during weekends.
"Just the drink please" he said and restrapped his revolver back in its holster
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*Today is a s l o w day*
I am an Arachpriest, Cat Cultist, Sauce Monk, Angel of Death, and First Spinjitzu Master.
I play Thirteen the necromancer elf, Timber the tabaxi child, and more at the tavern. Hope you like yams!
Oh yeah, don't forget to be kind and loving and stuff. Not on during weekends.
*Hi*
NNCHRIS: SOUL THIEF, MASTER OF THE ARCANE, AND KING OF NEW YORKNN
Gdl Creator of Ilheia and her Knights of the Fallen Stars ldG
Lesser Student of Technomancy [undergrad student in computer science]
Supporter of the 2014 rules, and a MASSIVE Homebrewer. Come to me all ye who seek salvation in wording thy brews!
Open to homebrew trades at any time!! Or feel free to request HB, and Ill see if I can get it done for ya!
Characters (Outdated)
*Hi*
NNCHRIS: SOUL THIEF, MASTER OF THE ARCANE, AND KING OF NEW YORKNN
Gdl Creator of Ilheia and her Knights of the Fallen Stars ldG
Lesser Student of Technomancy [undergrad student in computer science]
Supporter of the 2014 rules, and a MASSIVE Homebrewer. Come to me all ye who seek salvation in wording thy brews!
Open to homebrew trades at any time!! Or feel free to request HB, and Ill see if I can get it done for ya!
Characters (Outdated)
*Hello, nobody's on, are any of your characters on?*
I am an Arachpriest, Cat Cultist, Sauce Monk, Angel of Death, and First Spinjitzu Master.
I play Thirteen the necromancer elf, Timber the tabaxi child, and more at the tavern. Hope you like yams!
Oh yeah, don't forget to be kind and loving and stuff. Not on during weekends.