Monstrous Compendium Vol. 1: Spelljammer Creatures
Frozen Sick
D&D Beyond Basic Rules
Basic Rules (2014)
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Monstrous Compendium Vol. 1: Spelljammer CreaturesFrozen SickD&D Beyond Basic RulesBasic Rules (2014)Sign in to view your library & saved favorites.
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*The Dragon Lord? Really? I wouldn’t except anyone to describe him like that but I guess that is accurate.*
"But... you'll be stuck here!" He looks distraught. He slowly picks up the bones. "Can't you come with me?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Whoever you want to use I’m happy to roleplay with, kinda just looking to rp as a whole.*
*oh of course*
Suddenly, he feels something sweep through the air towards his back. Attack: 9 Damage: 2
Thirteen heads over to him, waving.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Sparrow is in the forest, punching a tree. The bark of the tree has been long removed by his fists, which are now bloody from the effort, he must have been doing this for a long time, his face stony.
He dodges the attack, raising his fists and turning towards the threat, giving a smile.
He waves back to them, pushing up his glasses, his eyes tired.
Tycho is eating on a rooftop despite the rain, sitting under an overhang
Elio is helping out some townsfolk with moving things, the rain bursting into steam as it touches his skin, him humming softly as he carries the heavy objects easily
"I'll be fine, mi estimado. My spirit can travel planes." His soul shimmers like a galaxy "You need to return now, okay? I'll be right behind you."
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
*double Rio*
Riotan walks up behind him, ever so slightly concerned.
Rio is holding a small triangular knife, grinning. “Bare your back to your opponent unarmored and you court Death.”
“Hello Sanviento! I had a question for you!”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
As sudden as a blink someone is sitting next to them, sitting in the rain with no issue.
A giant golden Dragonborn carrying a newborn black Dragonborn is also helping people, the rain turning to steam in his body.
He nods, and performs the proper ritual by heart, sending him back.
*Felix is now an owlin for the time being. Odd.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
He doesn’t notice Riotan, continue to punch the tree, the wood itself beginning to bend from the constant beating.
He smiles “I wouldn’t test that if I were you, after all, I love courting death.” He builds some space between them “At my worst are when things are most fun.”
“You don’t have to yell. What kind of question?” He asks, putting his things away.
“…y’alright?”
“Well, I’ve met Nerephos, and she’s not very consistent. Better to not even try.”
“Well, your brother has contained a godsoul within a glass vessel, and I’m wondering what kind of bottle you used to entrap it.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
The tiefling almost topples over with suprise, cursing in infernal, "What the hells?!"
The genasi gives a friendly wave
Henry (Image the Hunter from Bloodborne) smiles underneath his mask “Not from the hells, but somewhere similar enough.” His voice surprisingly refined.
Thane returns the wave with a hand that is seemingly made of oil. He smiles wide.
Felix ends up back at the tavern, the demonic looking form now gone and replaced with the more normal form.
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
*anyone else wanna rp?*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Angél" is digging up Felix's grave in the dead of the night, the rain pouring down on his dark feathers. He digs without caution or stealth, just tearing through the earth with his shovel.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
He turns to them, the remains of tears visible on his face, his voice weak “No.”
He puts his fists down, grabbing his drink “I’ll take my chances when I’m there. I’ve been on death’s door more times than I can count.”
“Glass.” He says, chuckling, looking like Damian does when he says something like that “It really, the glass isn’t special on its own.”
*For anyone else who would like to roleplay*
Samaritan is humming to himself as he dives vegetables for a salad he plans to make. Mixed together with romanie and cubed horned viper meat, he places the vegetables in.
Angél, for those with true sight, is over by the grave of Felix. He seems to be pacing a bit, thinking to himself. He appears to be in spectral form, a owl-shaped mass of cosmic stars and galaxies.
Azabell is gnawing on some wood, somehow having taken big bites out of some pieces like candy.
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
Mauric is making his way through the rain toward the grave, holding an umbrella in one hand and a platter of well-garnished mimic steak in the other.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.