A man sits in the corner, dressed in a black face mask that conceals all it his eyes and blond hair and a business vest. He sits, massaging his forehead and closing his eyes. His hands are tightly gloved and a small jar hangs by his belt. A glass of water sits untouched beside him.
Raphael waves to them. “Who are you?”
The man freezes and turn his head. “humm…just a man with a headache…”
Want me to try to heal it?
“huhhhhmm…you could try, it won’t work.”
Okay,
they gently touch him, and he regains 30 hit points and is freed from any curse, disease, poison, blindness, or deafness.
“hummmm, that’s a little better. I guess I should ask who you are”
“Raphael. Um… who are you?”
“hmmm…Zak…The Soulless. You don’t have to call me that.”
“What is the cause of that nickname?”
“Well, I collect body parts form my fallen foes” he shakes his jar. “And I like killing people. I’m also a necromancer.”
“So… if you didn’t have headaches, you wouldn’t practice necromancy?”
“Not necessarily, I’d still have boredom. And necromancy is fun, at least, more fun than doing nothing.”
“If I got rid of your headaches and the boredom, then?”
“Why do you want to rid me of my necromancy? I’ll stab you.”
“I see it abhorrent.”
“Okay, so now is when I stab you.” He pulls out a black blade that twists into a spiral around halfway down, it looks like a screw with a sword welded to the end.
"Why? Because I believe something other than you do?" They ask, standing still
*1. No damage in the tavern, 2. do you mind if this character dies*
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
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
Throden-Ihtros waves to them. "Who might you be?"
"General Zhent Mackerill, or at least I was at one time. Now I'm a sodden old ram lookin' fer his next drink. How 'bout yerself, stranger?"
"Throden-Ihtros. What would you like to drink?"
"Pleased to meet ye Ihtros," he takes a look at the menu, "I think I'll try the mead, does it come in pints?"
They nod, serving some. "Which military do you command for?"
"An old, old one. I marshaled the legions of Asherod in the end-times." He chuckles in remembrance, "That was a fun century."
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.
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
He sees a man in a black face mask and a business vest about to stab another man with a screwed up sword. There also a few body parts next to him.
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
Throden-Ihtros waves to them. "Who might you be?"
"General Zhent Mackerill, or at least I was at one time. Now I'm a sodden old ram lookin' fer his next drink. How 'bout yerself, stranger?"
"Throden-Ihtros. What would you like to drink?"
"Pleased to meet ye Ihtros," he takes a look at the menu, "I think I'll try the mead, does it come in pints?"
They nod, serving some. "Which military do you command for?"
"An old, old one. I marshaled the legions of Asherod in the end-times." He chuckles in remembrance, "That was a fun century."
"Has your homeworld been destroyed?"
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
A man sits in the corner, dressed in a black face mask that conceals all it his eyes and blond hair and a business vest. He sits, massaging his forehead and closing his eyes. His hands are tightly gloved and a small jar hangs by his belt. A glass of water sits untouched beside him.
Raphael waves to them. “Who are you?”
The man freezes and turn his head. “humm…just a man with a headache…”
Want me to try to heal it?
“huhhhhmm…you could try, it won’t work.”
Okay,
they gently touch him, and he regains 30 hit points and is freed from any curse, disease, poison, blindness, or deafness.
“hummmm, that’s a little better. I guess I should ask who you are”
“Raphael. Um… who are you?”
“hmmm…Zak…The Soulless. You don’t have to call me that.”
“What is the cause of that nickname?”
“Well, I collect body parts form my fallen foes” he shakes his jar. “And I like killing people. I’m also a necromancer.”
“So… if you didn’t have headaches, you wouldn’t practice necromancy?”
“Not necessarily, I’d still have boredom. And necromancy is fun, at least, more fun than doing nothing.”
“If I got rid of your headaches and the boredom, then?”
“Why do you want to rid me of my necromancy? I’ll stab you.”
“I see it abhorrent.”
“Okay, so now is when I stab you.” He pulls out a black blade that twists into a spiral around halfway down, it looks like a screw with a sword welded to the end.
"Why? Because I believe something other than you do?" They ask, standing still
*1. No damage in the tavern, 2. do you mind if this character dies*
“Precisely. And your teeth will be mine.” He inspects his teeth
*1. I know, he doesn’t, 2. Yes, 3. What happens if he attacks*
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
He sees a man in a black face mask and a business vest about to stab another man with a screwed up sword. There also a few body parts next to him.
MacKerill waves friendily to them, giving no hint of discomfort at the carnage.
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.
A man sits in the corner, dressed in a black face mask that conceals all it his eyes and blond hair and a business vest. He sits, massaging his forehead and closing his eyes. His hands are tightly gloved and a small jar hangs by his belt. A glass of water sits untouched beside him.
Raphael waves to them. “Who are you?”
The man freezes and turn his head. “humm…just a man with a headache…”
Want me to try to heal it?
“huhhhhmm…you could try, it won’t work.”
Okay,
they gently touch him, and he regains 30 hit points and is freed from any curse, disease, poison, blindness, or deafness.
“hummmm, that’s a little better. I guess I should ask who you are”
“Raphael. Um… who are you?”
“hmmm…Zak…The Soulless. You don’t have to call me that.”
“What is the cause of that nickname?”
“Well, I collect body parts form my fallen foes” he shakes his jar. “And I like killing people. I’m also a necromancer.”
“So… if you didn’t have headaches, you wouldn’t practice necromancy?”
“Not necessarily, I’d still have boredom. And necromancy is fun, at least, more fun than doing nothing.”
“If I got rid of your headaches and the boredom, then?”
“Why do you want to rid me of my necromancy? I’ll stab you.”
“I see it abhorrent.”
“Okay, so now is when I stab you.” He pulls out a black blade that twists into a spiral around halfway down, it looks like a screw with a sword welded to the end.
"Why? Because I believe something other than you do?" They ask, standing still
*1. No damage in the tavern, 2. do you mind if this character dies*
“Precisely. And your teeth will be mine.” He inspects his teeth
*1. I know, he doesn’t, 2. Yes, 3. What happens if he attacks*
"Mmm... No thank you."
*1. Got it. 2. Understood. 3. Roll to see if he hits*
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
A man sits in the corner, dressed in a black face mask that conceals all it his eyes and blond hair and a business vest. He sits, massaging his forehead and closing his eyes. His hands are tightly gloved and a small jar hangs by his belt. A glass of water sits untouched beside him.
Raphael waves to them. “Who are you?”
The man freezes and turn his head. “humm…just a man with a headache…”
Want me to try to heal it?
“huhhhhmm…you could try, it won’t work.”
Okay,
they gently touch him, and he regains 30 hit points and is freed from any curse, disease, poison, blindness, or deafness.
“hummmm, that’s a little better. I guess I should ask who you are”
“Raphael. Um… who are you?”
“hmmm…Zak…The Soulless. You don’t have to call me that.”
“What is the cause of that nickname?”
“Well, I collect body parts form my fallen foes” he shakes his jar. “And I like killing people. I’m also a necromancer.”
“So… if you didn’t have headaches, you wouldn’t practice necromancy?”
“Not necessarily, I’d still have boredom. And necromancy is fun, at least, more fun than doing nothing.”
“If I got rid of your headaches and the boredom, then?”
“Why do you want to rid me of my necromancy? I’ll stab you.”
“I see it abhorrent.”
“Okay, so now is when I stab you.” He pulls out a black blade that twists into a spiral around halfway down, it looks like a screw with a sword welded to the end.
"Why? Because I believe something other than you do?" They ask, standing still
*1. No damage in the tavern, 2. do you mind if this character dies*
“Precisely. And your teeth will be mine.” He inspects his teeth
*1. I know, he doesn’t, 2. Yes, 3. What happens if he attacks*
"Mmm... No thank you."
*1. Got it. 2. Understood. 3. Roll to see if he hits*
*pm this to me I gotta go but I wanna continue this*
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
Throden-Ihtros waves to them. "Who might you be?"
"General Zhent Mackerill, or at least I was at one time. Now I'm a sodden old ram lookin' fer his next drink. How 'bout yerself, stranger?"
"Throden-Ihtros. What would you like to drink?"
"Pleased to meet ye Ihtros," he takes a look at the menu, "I think I'll try the mead, does it come in pints?"
They nod, serving some. "Which military do you command for?"
"An old, old one. I marshaled the legions of Asherod in the end-times." He chuckles in remembrance, "That was a fun century."
"Has your homeworld been destroyed?"
"Yes, but that wasn't on my homeworld, it was another, largely unpopulated one called Kralizec."
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.
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
Throden-Ihtros waves to them. "Who might you be?"
"General Zhent Mackerill, or at least I was at one time. Now I'm a sodden old ram lookin' fer his next drink. How 'bout yerself, stranger?"
"Throden-Ihtros. What would you like to drink?"
"Pleased to meet ye Ihtros," he takes a look at the menu, "I think I'll try the mead, does it come in pints?"
They nod, serving some. "Which military do you command for?"
"An old, old one. I marshaled the legions of Asherod in the end-times." He chuckles in remembrance, "That was a fun century."
"Has your homeworld been destroyed?"
"Yes, but that wasn't on my homeworld, it was another, largely unpopulated one called Kralizec."
"And it has been destroyed or something else?"
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
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
Throden-Ihtros waves to them. "Who might you be?"
"General Zhent Mackerill, or at least I was at one time. Now I'm a sodden old ram lookin' fer his next drink. How 'bout yerself, stranger?"
"Throden-Ihtros. What would you like to drink?"
"Pleased to meet ye Ihtros," he takes a look at the menu, "I think I'll try the mead, does it come in pints?"
They nod, serving some. "Which military do you command for?"
"An old, old one. I marshaled the legions of Asherod in the end-times." He chuckles in remembrance, "That was a fun century."
"Has your homeworld been destroyed?"
"Yes, but that wasn't on my homeworld, it was another, largely unpopulated one called Kralizec."
"And it has been destroyed or something else?"
"Destroyed, they say the nations warred until their hatred consumed the land." he sips his drink. "Personally, I think it had more to do with the nautiloid invasion. But I suppose that's what happens when these idiots don't listen to their prophets."
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.
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
Throden-Ihtros waves to them. "Who might you be?"
"General Zhent Mackerill, or at least I was at one time. Now I'm a sodden old ram lookin' fer his next drink. How 'bout yerself, stranger?"
"Throden-Ihtros. What would you like to drink?"
"Pleased to meet ye Ihtros," he takes a look at the menu, "I think I'll try the mead, does it come in pints?"
They nod, serving some. "Which military do you command for?"
"An old, old one. I marshaled the legions of Asherod in the end-times." He chuckles in remembrance, "That was a fun century."
"Has your homeworld been destroyed?"
"Yes, but that wasn't on my homeworld, it was another, largely unpopulated one called Kralizec."
"And it has been destroyed or something else?"
"Destroyed, they say the nations warred until their hatred consumed the land." he sips his drink. "Personally, I think it had more to do with the nautiloid invasion. But I suppose that's what happens when these idiots don't listen to their prophets."
"... The mindflayers?"
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
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
Throden-Ihtros waves to them. "Who might you be?"
"General Zhent Mackerill, or at least I was at one time. Now I'm a sodden old ram lookin' fer his next drink. How 'bout yerself, stranger?"
"Throden-Ihtros. What would you like to drink?"
"Pleased to meet ye Ihtros," he takes a look at the menu, "I think I'll try the mead, does it come in pints?"
They nod, serving some. "Which military do you command for?"
"An old, old one. I marshaled the legions of Asherod in the end-times." He chuckles in remembrance, "That was a fun century."
"Has your homeworld been destroyed?"
"Yes, but that wasn't on my homeworld, it was another, largely unpopulated one called Kralizec."
"And it has been destroyed or something else?"
"Destroyed, they say the nations warred until their hatred consumed the land." he sips his drink. "Personally, I think it had more to do with the nautiloid invasion. But I suppose that's what happens when these idiots don't listen to their prophets."
"... The mindflayers?"
"Yeah, wiped out the whole populace they did. I helped 'em hold off long 's I could, that was until I was needed elsewhere."
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.
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
Throden-Ihtros waves to them. "Who might you be?"
"General Zhent Mackerill, or at least I was at one time. Now I'm a sodden old ram lookin' fer his next drink. How 'bout yerself, stranger?"
"Throden-Ihtros. What would you like to drink?"
"Pleased to meet ye Ihtros," he takes a look at the menu, "I think I'll try the mead, does it come in pints?"
They nod, serving some. "Which military do you command for?"
"An old, old one. I marshaled the legions of Asherod in the end-times." He chuckles in remembrance, "That was a fun century."
"Has your homeworld been destroyed?"
"Yes, but that wasn't on my homeworld, it was another, largely unpopulated one called Kralizec."
"And it has been destroyed or something else?"
"Destroyed, they say the nations warred until their hatred consumed the land." he sips his drink. "Personally, I think it had more to do with the nautiloid invasion. But I suppose that's what happens when these idiots don't listen to their prophets."
"... The mindflayers?"
"Yeah, wiped out the whole populace they did. I helped 'em hold off long 's I could, that was until I was needed elsewhere."
"I see. Are you still in active service?"
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
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
Throden-Ihtros waves to them. "Who might you be?"
"General Zhent Mackerill, or at least I was at one time. Now I'm a sodden old ram lookin' fer his next drink. How 'bout yerself, stranger?"
"Throden-Ihtros. What would you like to drink?"
"Pleased to meet ye Ihtros," he takes a look at the menu, "I think I'll try the mead, does it come in pints?"
They nod, serving some. "Which military do you command for?"
"An old, old one. I marshaled the legions of Asherod in the end-times." He chuckles in remembrance, "That was a fun century."
"Has your homeworld been destroyed?"
"Yes, but that wasn't on my homeworld, it was another, largely unpopulated one called Kralizec."
"And it has been destroyed or something else?"
"Destroyed, they say the nations warred until their hatred consumed the land." he sips his drink. "Personally, I think it had more to do with the nautiloid invasion. But I suppose that's what happens when these idiots don't listen to their prophets."
"... The mindflayers?"
"Yeah, wiped out the whole populace they did. I helped 'em hold off long 's I could, that was until I was needed elsewhere."
"I see. Are you still in active service?"
"As I said, not fer a long time. I did do a stint on Borada, that was fun, but again, that was years ago, and I was only a lieutenant."
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.
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
Throden-Ihtros waves to them. "Who might you be?"
"General Zhent Mackerill, or at least I was at one time. Now I'm a sodden old ram lookin' fer his next drink. How 'bout yerself, stranger?"
"Throden-Ihtros. What would you like to drink?"
"Pleased to meet ye Ihtros," he takes a look at the menu, "I think I'll try the mead, does it come in pints?"
They nod, serving some. "Which military do you command for?"
"An old, old one. I marshaled the legions of Asherod in the end-times." He chuckles in remembrance, "That was a fun century."
"Has your homeworld been destroyed?"
"Yes, but that wasn't on my homeworld, it was another, largely unpopulated one called Kralizec."
"And it has been destroyed or something else?"
"Destroyed, they say the nations warred until their hatred consumed the land." he sips his drink. "Personally, I think it had more to do with the nautiloid invasion. But I suppose that's what happens when these idiots don't listen to their prophets."
"... The mindflayers?"
"Yeah, wiped out the whole populace they did. I helped 'em hold off long 's I could, that was until I was needed elsewhere."
"I see. Are you still in active service?"
"As I said, not fer a long time. I did do a stint on Borada, that was fun, but again, that was years ago, and I was only a lieutenant."
"Then how did you get the title general if you are most recently a lieutenant?"
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Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
Throden-Ihtros waves to them. "Who might you be?"
"General Zhent Mackerill, or at least I was at one time. Now I'm a sodden old ram lookin' fer his next drink. How 'bout yerself, stranger?"
"Throden-Ihtros. What would you like to drink?"
"Pleased to meet ye Ihtros," he takes a look at the menu, "I think I'll try the mead, does it come in pints?"
They nod, serving some. "Which military do you command for?"
"An old, old one. I marshaled the legions of Asherod in the end-times." He chuckles in remembrance, "That was a fun century."
"Has your homeworld been destroyed?"
"Yes, but that wasn't on my homeworld, it was another, largely unpopulated one called Kralizec."
"And it has been destroyed or something else?"
"Destroyed, they say the nations warred until their hatred consumed the land." he sips his drink. "Personally, I think it had more to do with the nautiloid invasion. But I suppose that's what happens when these idiots don't listen to their prophets."
"... The mindflayers?"
"Yeah, wiped out the whole populace they did. I helped 'em hold off long 's I could, that was until I was needed elsewhere."
"I see. Are you still in active service?"
"As I said, not fer a long time. I did do a stint on Borada, that was fun, but again, that was years ago, and I was only a lieutenant."
"Then how did you get the title general if you are most recently a lieutenant?"
He shrugs, "Sounds more impressive," he says with a slight grin and not a hint of remorse
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.
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
He sees a man in a black face mask and a business vest about to stab another man with a screwed up sword. There also a few body parts next to him.
A voice enters his mind as helios watches, Touch him with that, and you won't have a good next couple minutes buddy
An imposing, muscular man walks into the tavern. He wears a black, tattered trench coat that hangs open, revealing his bare chest. A pair of baggy breeches are tied to a close high on his waist by a bright orange cummerbund, into which is stuck a rather unnecessary volume of firepower. A wide-brim hat ornamented with a bright red feather shadows his scruffy face, out of which explodes long brown-blonde hair and a thick beard. Their right eye is hidden behind a black patch with ornate golden filigree. The sleeves of the coat are rolled up to his elbows, revealing heavily their heavily scarred triceps and hands. A half-crazed grin lights up their tangerine eyes and reveals the glint of several golden molars. "Finally! Another one of these!" they say as they open the door harshly, flinging their arms wide in celebration.
*HOT BELGIAN WAFFLES ANOTHER TAVERN.*
He sees a man in a black face mask and a business vest about to stab another man with a screwed up sword. There also a few body parts next to him.
A voice enters his mind as helios watches, Touch him with that, and you won't have a good next couple minutes buddy
He drops his hands and stares at him with annoyance. He massaged his forehead, “hmmmm…why does everyone think they’re some all-powerful super god… this is giving me a headache”
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Back in black baby
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"Why? Because I believe something other than you do?" They ask, standing still
*1. No damage in the tavern, 2. do you mind if this character dies*
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
"An old, old one. I marshaled the legions of Asherod in the end-times." He chuckles in remembrance, "That was a fun century."
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"
He sees a man in a black face mask and a business vest about to stab another man with a screwed up sword. There also a few body parts next to him.
Back in black baby
"Has your homeworld been destroyed?"
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
“Precisely. And your teeth will be mine.” He inspects his teeth
*1. I know, he doesn’t, 2. Yes, 3. What happens if he attacks*
Back in black baby
MacKerill waves friendily to them, giving no hint of discomfort at the carnage.
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"
"Mmm... No thank you."
*1. Got it. 2. Understood. 3. Roll to see if he hits*
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
*pm this to me I gotta go but I wanna continue this*
Back in black baby
"Yes, but that wasn't on my homeworld, it was another, largely unpopulated one called Kralizec."
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"
"And it has been destroyed or something else?"
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
"Destroyed, they say the nations warred until their hatred consumed the land." he sips his drink. "Personally, I think it had more to do with the nautiloid invasion. But I suppose that's what happens when these idiots don't listen to their prophets."
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"
"... The mindflayers?"
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
"Yeah, wiped out the whole populace they did. I helped 'em hold off long 's I could, that was until I was needed elsewhere."
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"
"I see. Are you still in active service?"
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
"As I said, not fer a long time. I did do a stint on Borada, that was fun, but again, that was years ago, and I was only a lieutenant."
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"
"Then how did you get the title general if you are most recently a lieutenant?"
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
He shrugs, "Sounds more impressive," he says with a slight grin and not a hint of remorse
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"
"I can understand that. Why did you go to the army?"
Hi everyone! I'm working up the will to finalize my signature, so... I guess this will be the signature for now
A voice enters his mind as helios watches, Touch him with that, and you won't have a good next couple minutes buddy
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
He drops his hands and stares at him with annoyance. He massaged his forehead, “hmmmm…why does everyone think they’re some all-powerful super god… this is giving me a headache”
Back in black baby