"I remember the reds and golds.. not of cloth or the glitter of jewelry, but of the fires that ate away at my village. It was as beautful as a painting but as fericous as a lion. I could hear the screams of friends, family, of neighbors and strangers. Thats all I remeber before getting hauled into the back of a wagon, tied down so I would stop trying to escape..
The next few years were hell.
Beatings for every little thing, I still have the scars on my back from the cat o'nine tails. The torture of being confined to a small dark room with the mice gnawing at my skin and the fleas biting into my scalp, my own thoughts keeping me company. Sooner rather than later, I was lucky enough to stop feeling any of the pain they inflicted on me. The lashing's felt like slight pressure on my destroyed skin, nothing more.
Finally, I managed to free myself.. and I beat their heads open with their own weapons. I remember that being the last time I felt any true emotion."
- An Entry from the Journal of the Archmage Ryidan.
A man sits on the roof of the tavern, his back leaning against the brick wall with his knees to his chest. He holds a journal of sorts, bound in black leather with a blue cut gem in the center, a pen is held in his left hand as he scrawls something into it.
He looks to be in his late fifties, his hair cut short but neat and silver as the moon. His skin is marred with scars from different weapons, cuts across his face and neck. Tattoos made of black ink paint his skin as well, crawling up his neck like ivy on a trellis. Freckles dot his cheeks and nose like stars dotting the sky. His silvery eyes stare down at the journal, following the lines he creates on it.
He wears an open-collared white shirt, the tattoos seem to climb down his chest, with a long black robe around his shoulders, a thick belt of black leather around his waist, and a pair of black breeches. His feet are clad in a pair of boots that rise up to his knees, laced up in the back.
He closes his journal and places it carefully into a satchel by his side, closing it and buckling it close.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
"I remember the reds and golds.. not of cloth or the glitter of jewelry, but of the fires that ate away at my village. It was as beautful as a painting but as fericous as a lion. I could hear the screams of friends, family, of neighbors and strangers. Thats all I remeber before getting hauled into the back of a wagon, tied down so I would stop trying to escape..
The next few years were hell.
Beatings for every little thing, I still have the scars on my back from the cat o'nine tails. The torture of being confined to a small dark room with the mice gnawing at my skin and the fleas biting into my scalp, my own thoughts keeping me company. Sooner rather than later, I was lucky enough to stop feeling any of the pain they inflicted on me. The lashing's felt like slight pressure on my destroyed skin, nothing more.
Finally, I managed to free myself.. and I beat their heads open with their own weapons. I remember that being the last time I felt any true emotion."
- An Entry from the Journal of the Archmage Ryidan.
A man sits on the roof of the tavern, his back leaning against the brick wall with his knees to his chest. He holds a journal of sorts, bound in black leather with a blue cut gem in the center, a pen is held in his left hand as he scrawls something into it.
He looks to be in his late fifties, his hair cut short but neat and silver as the moon. His skin is marred with scars from different weapons, cuts across his face and neck. Tattoos made of black ink paint his skin as well, crawling up his neck like ivy on a trellis. Freckles dot his cheeks and nose like stars dotting the sky. His silvery eyes stare down at the journal, following the lines he creates on it.
He wears an open-collared white shirt, the tattoos seem to climb down his chest, with a long black robe around his shoulders, a thick belt of black leather around his waist, and a pair of black breeches. His feet are clad in a pair of boots that rise up to his knees, laced up in the back.
He closes his journal and places it carefully into a satchel by his side, closing it and buckling it close.
A large dark elf in comfortable clothes walks over and sits beside him. His skin is obsidian black, and his short hair is white as snow, pale as his moonlight eyes. His clothes are simple and loose, the only color coming from bloodstains on them. He has maroon marks on his muscled body, scars from cuts and burns and bruises.
He holds a small plate in his large hand. On it is a cooked oyster on the half shell with an egg, herb butter, and a bit of meat on it. Held between his fingers is a shot glass filled with a bright red, faintly bubbly liquid. "To awaken your senses." He says, his voice a soft rumble and his words simple. "The appetizer is heavy, the aperitif will lighten it. No alcohol needed."
"I remember the reds and golds.. not of cloth or the glitter of jewelry, but of the fires that ate away at my village. It was as beautful as a painting but as fericous as a lion. I could hear the screams of friends, family, of neighbors and strangers. Thats all I remeber before getting hauled into the back of a wagon, tied down so I would stop trying to escape..
The next few years were hell.
Beatings for every little thing, I still have the scars on my back from the cat o'nine tails. The torture of being confined to a small dark room with the mice gnawing at my skin and the fleas biting into my scalp, my own thoughts keeping me company. Sooner rather than later, I was lucky enough to stop feeling any of the pain they inflicted on me. The lashing's felt like slight pressure on my destroyed skin, nothing more.
Finally, I managed to free myself.. and I beat their heads open with their own weapons. I remember that being the last time I felt any true emotion."
- An Entry from the Journal of the Archmage Ryidan.
A man sits on the roof of the tavern, his back leaning against the brick wall with his knees to his chest. He holds a journal of sorts, bound in black leather with a blue cut gem in the center, a pen is held in his left hand as he scrawls something into it.
He looks to be in his late fifties, his hair cut short but neat and silver as the moon. His skin is marred with scars from different weapons, cuts across his face and neck. Tattoos made of black ink paint his skin as well, crawling up his neck like ivy on a trellis. Freckles dot his cheeks and nose like stars dotting the sky. His silvery eyes stare down at the journal, following the lines he creates on it.
He wears an open-collared white shirt, the tattoos seem to climb down his chest, with a long black robe around his shoulders, a thick belt of black leather around his waist, and a pair of black breeches. His feet are clad in a pair of boots that rise up to his knees, laced up in the back.
He closes his journal and places it carefully into a satchel by his side, closing it and buckling it close.
A large dark elf in comfortable clothes walks over and sits beside him. His skin is obsidian black, and his short hair is white as snow, pale as his moonlight eyes. His clothes are simple and loose, the only color coming from bloodstains on them. He has maroon marks on his muscled body, scars from cuts and burns and bruises.
He holds a small plate in his large hand. On it is a cooked oyster on the half shell with an egg, herb butter, and a bit of meat on it. Held between his fingers is a shot glass filled with a bright red, faintly bubbly liquid. "To awaken your senses." He says, his voice a soft rumble and his words simple. "The appetizer is heavy, the aperitif will lighten it. No alcohol needed."
Ryidan cracks open a silvery eye and tilts his head "A master of the senses hm?" He asks, not yet taking it from him.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
A large dark elf in comfortable clothes walks over and sits beside him. His skin is obsidian black, and his short hair is white as snow, pale as his moonlight eyes. His clothes are simple and loose, the only color coming from bloodstains on them. He has maroon marks on his muscled body, scars from cuts and burns and bruises.
He holds a small plate in his large hand. On it is a cooked oyster on the half shell with an egg, herb butter, and a bit of meat on it. Held between his fingers is a shot glass filled with a bright red, faintly bubbly liquid. "To awaken your senses." He says, his voice a soft rumble and his words simple. "The appetizer is heavy, the aperitif will lighten it. No alcohol needed."
Ryidan cracks open a silvery eye and tilts his head "A master of the senses hm?" He asks, not yet taking it from him.
"Master implies control." He murmurs. "That is not my intent, nor my specialty." He looks Ryidan in the eye. "My name is Jacob. I am a cook."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
A young man with messy black hair wearing a midnight black robe stands outside the tavern. His eyes have black irises and white pupils, and dark smoke emanates from the staff he carries. His mouth is curved upward in a slight smirk.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hi! I'm EJO. I am a silly billy who forgets to play Genshin Impact every day and totally DOESN'T simp for at least three different ninja girls. Some other facts about me:
Milio has been ditched. Now Xerath is my friend.
My average accuracy in Marvel Rivals is about 15%.
A large dark elf in comfortable clothes walks over and sits beside him. His skin is obsidian black, and his short hair is white as snow, pale as his moonlight eyes. His clothes are simple and loose, the only color coming from bloodstains on them. He has maroon marks on his muscled body, scars from cuts and burns and bruises.
He holds a small plate in his large hand. On it is a cooked oyster on the half shell with an egg, herb butter, and a bit of meat on it. Held between his fingers is a shot glass filled with a bright red, faintly bubbly liquid. "To awaken your senses." He says, his voice a soft rumble and his words simple. "The appetizer is heavy, the aperitif will lighten it. No alcohol needed."
Ryidan cracks open a silvery eye and tilts his head "A master of the senses hm?" He asks, not yet taking it from him.
"Master implies control." He murmurs. "That is not my intent, nor my specialty." He looks Ryidan in the eye. "My name is Jacob. I am a cook."
"A pleasure to meet you. My name is Ryidan, I am a mage." he smiles barely "You seem to have somewhat of a mastery over what you have made though."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
A young man with messy black hair wearing a midnight black robe stands outside the tavern. His eyes have black irises and white pupils, and dark smoke emanates from the staff he carries. His mouth is curved upward in a slight smirk.
A towering Drow in white, comfortable, blood-splattered clothes walks over. "Have you eaten yet?" He asks with a gentle tone, a soft voice.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
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*Hey, Druid. It's good to see you.*
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*hey man, great to see you to! Jesus, it’s been a while. I also feel like changing my username again.*
Hello, I’m The mighty Dragon bard!
Music nerd, bookworm, dragon lover and avid shoe wearer. I also like drawing and playing guitar.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Extended Signature
*im probably going to change my username for the second time. I used to go by koboldnerd.*
Hello, I’m The mighty Dragon bard!
Music nerd, bookworm, dragon lover and avid shoe wearer. I also like drawing and playing guitar.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Extended Signature
*yeah, you could call me that, while I figure out what to rename myself*
Hello, I’m The mighty Dragon bard!
Music nerd, bookworm, dragon lover and avid shoe wearer. I also like drawing and playing guitar.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Extended Signature
*hello guitar druid i'm drizztlonedruid but people call me drizzt or some variation of that its a pleasure to meet you*
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
*pleasure to meet you to! I wonder how many people have Druid in there name, last time I logged on there was two that I can think of, including me*
Hello, I’m The mighty Dragon bard!
Music nerd, bookworm, dragon lover and avid shoe wearer. I also like drawing and playing guitar.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Extended Signature
*i think 4 including us*
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
*yeah me,you,druid dragon and druid girl are the ones i know of*
fellow follower of JEFF!!!! and a fan of botw
Co-cult leader of the cynophobia cult
Archivist of the kingdoms and Crowns thread, Percy Jackson thread, and Mechanicus thread
*Everyone just passed by, pretending not to see, thinking that some hero would save the day.*
*Who decided to make the world this way?*
*You'll be okay now... I am here.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
(shakes you)
*DO YOU WANT SILLY LICH MAN?*
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*Yems*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
A man sits on the roof of the tavern, his back leaning against the brick wall with his knees to his chest. He holds a journal of sorts, bound in black leather with a blue cut gem in the center, a pen is held in his left hand as he scrawls something into it.
He looks to be in his late fifties, his hair cut short but neat and silver as the moon. His skin is marred with scars from different weapons, cuts across his face and neck. Tattoos made of black ink paint his skin as well, crawling up his neck like ivy on a trellis. Freckles dot his cheeks and nose like stars dotting the sky. His silvery eyes stare down at the journal, following the lines he creates on it.
He wears an open-collared white shirt, the tattoos seem to climb down his chest, with a long black robe around his shoulders, a thick belt of black leather around his waist, and a pair of black breeches. His feet are clad in a pair of boots that rise up to his knees, laced up in the back.
He closes his journal and places it carefully into a satchel by his side, closing it and buckling it close.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
A large dark elf in comfortable clothes walks over and sits beside him. His skin is obsidian black, and his short hair is white as snow, pale as his moonlight eyes. His clothes are simple and loose, the only color coming from bloodstains on them. He has maroon marks on his muscled body, scars from cuts and burns and bruises.
He holds a small plate in his large hand. On it is a cooked oyster on the half shell with an egg, herb butter, and a bit of meat on it. Held between his fingers is a shot glass filled with a bright red, faintly bubbly liquid. "To awaken your senses." He says, his voice a soft rumble and his words simple. "The appetizer is heavy, the aperitif will lighten it. No alcohol needed."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Ryidan cracks open a silvery eye and tilts his head "A master of the senses hm?" He asks, not yet taking it from him.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
"Master implies control." He murmurs. "That is not my intent, nor my specialty." He looks Ryidan in the eye. "My name is Jacob. I am a cook."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
A young man with messy black hair wearing a midnight black robe stands outside the tavern. His eyes have black irises and white pupils, and dark smoke emanates from the staff he carries. His mouth is curved upward in a slight smirk.
Hi! I'm EJO. I am a silly billy who forgets to play Genshin Impact every day and totally DOESN'T simp for at least three different ninja girls. Some other facts about me:
Milio has been ditched. Now Xerath is my friend.
My average accuracy in Marvel Rivals is about 15%.
I like cheese.
"A pleasure to meet you. My name is Ryidan, I am a mage." he smiles barely "You seem to have somewhat of a mastery over what you have made though."
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
A towering Drow in white, comfortable, blood-splattered clothes walks over. "Have you eaten yet?" He asks with a gentle tone, a soft voice.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.