*I statted out Podmorski as a level 6 gestalted PC. My DM allowed the Mystic class and I'm going to make him regret it. Pod is also a Battlesmith, because of course.*
*That's cool dude, honestly most people are afraid to do campaigns with me as a player anymore, because of the whole accidental minmaxing thing I often end up doing unfortunately. Trying to push back on that, hope your campaign goes well.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
*I statted out Podmorski as a level 6 gestalted PC. My DM allowed the Mystic class and I'm going to make him regret it. Pod is also a Battlesmith, because of course.*
Fate... a concept commonly considered to be an unclashable force, the thought that whatever is supposed to happen will, but what if the cards fate dealt weren't truly right. What if someone was destined for something that should never have come, a fate that is entirely monstrous?
Arriving in town are two people, both covered in jet black cloaks that flutter in the midnight breeze, one appears to be holding the other's hand, much smaller, their skin where it is revealing seems to have deep wounds. The larger person holds their hand with care, both of them wearing the exact same outfit, black everything, doing their best to conceal themselves in the night. The larger person's hand seems darker, although with scars just as deep. When they arrive at the tavern they walk inside, silently ordering a room with the little money they do have, before buying the cheapest meal they can, sitting silently at a table in the corner. Despite wearing identical clothes they provide different auras around them, the larger's dark and ominous, while the smaller's filled with a brightness. They eat without words begin spoken.
Thirteen sits not far away at his typical booth, pondering his orrery. He looks up at the pair curiously.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
*I statted out Podmorski as a level 6 gestalted PC. My DM allowed the Mystic class and I'm going to make him regret it. Pod is also a Battlesmith, because of course.*
*Mystic is unearthed arcana right?*
*Yep.*
*I really like it. I’ve been saying since the beginning of 5e that we needed a fully psionic-based class, but not just the Psion again*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
*I statted out Podmorski as a level 6 gestalted PC. My DM allowed the Mystic class and I'm going to make him regret it. Pod is also a Battlesmith, because of course.*
*That's cool dude, honestly most people are afraid to do campaigns with me as a player anymore, because of the whole accidental minmaxing thing I often end up doing unfortunately. Trying to push back on that, hope your campaign goes well.*
*I'm sorry to hear that. Pretty much every character at my table is OP in some way, and we've gotten used to that fact and just share the spotlight. The DM likes it that way.*
Fate... a concept commonly considered to be an unclashable force, the thought that whatever is supposed to happen will, but what if the cards fate dealt weren't truly right. What if someone was destined for something that should never have come, a fate that is entirely monstrous?
Arriving in town are two people, both covered in jet black cloaks that flutter in the midnight breeze, one appears to be holding the other's hand, much smaller, their skin where it is revealing seems to have deep wounds. The larger person holds their hand with care, both of them wearing the exact same outfit, black everything, doing their best to conceal themselves in the night. The larger person's hand seems darker, although with scars just as deep. When they arrive at the tavern they walk inside, silently ordering a room with the little money they do have, before buying the cheapest meal they can, sitting silently at a table in the corner. Despite wearing identical clothes they provide different auras around them, the larger's dark and ominous, while the smaller's filled with a brightness. They eat without words begin spoken.
Thirteen sits not far away at his typical booth, pondering his orrery. He looks up at the pair curiously.
Whenever he looks at them the larger seems to stare back, like they're burrowing into Thirteen's soul with their dark eyes, but the smaller always tugs on their cloak and stops them.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
Fate... a concept commonly considered to be an unclashable force, the thought that whatever is supposed to happen will, but what if the cards fate dealt weren't truly right. What if someone was destined for something that should never have come, a fate that is entirely monstrous?
Arriving in town are two people, both covered in jet black cloaks that flutter in the midnight breeze, one appears to be holding the other's hand, much smaller, their skin where it is revealing seems to have deep wounds. The larger person holds their hand with care, both of them wearing the exact same outfit, black everything, doing their best to conceal themselves in the night. The larger person's hand seems darker, although with scars just as deep. When they arrive at the tavern they walk inside, silently ordering a room with the little money they do have, before buying the cheapest meal they can, sitting silently at a table in the corner. Despite wearing identical clothes they provide different auras around them, the larger's dark and ominous, while the smaller's filled with a brightness. They eat without words begin spoken.
Thirteen sits not far away at his typical booth, pondering his orrery. He looks up at the pair curiously.
Whenever he looks at them the larger seems to stare back, like they're burrowing into Thirteen's soul with their dark eyes, but the smaller always tugs on their cloak and stops them.
This only heightens Thirteen’s interests. He tucks the orb back into his satchel and takes out his journal.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
Fate... a concept commonly considered to be an unclashable force, the thought that whatever is supposed to happen will, but what if the cards fate dealt weren't truly right. What if someone was destined for something that should never have come, a fate that is entirely monstrous?
Arriving in town are two people, both covered in jet black cloaks that flutter in the midnight breeze, one appears to be holding the other's hand, much smaller, their skin where it is revealing seems to have deep wounds. The larger person holds their hand with care, both of them wearing the exact same outfit, black everything, doing their best to conceal themselves in the night. The larger person's hand seems darker, although with scars just as deep. When they arrive at the tavern they walk inside, silently ordering a room with the little money they do have, before buying the cheapest meal they can, sitting silently at a table in the corner. Despite wearing identical clothes they provide different auras around them, the larger's dark and ominous, while the smaller's filled with a brightness. They eat without words begin spoken.
Thirteen sits not far away at his typical booth, pondering his orrery. He looks up at the pair curiously.
Whenever he looks at them the larger seems to stare back, like they're burrowing into Thirteen's soul with their dark eyes, but the smaller always tugs on their cloak and stops them.
This only heightens Thirteen’s interests. He tucks the orb back into his satchel and takes out his journal.
Radiant energy seems to move off the smaller in waves as they talk to each other silently. Eventually the larger seems to slump their shoulders as the smaller waves Thirteen over.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
Fate... a concept commonly considered to be an unclashable force, the thought that whatever is supposed to happen will, but what if the cards fate dealt weren't truly right. What if someone was destined for something that should never have come, a fate that is entirely monstrous?
Arriving in town are two people, both covered in jet black cloaks that flutter in the midnight breeze, one appears to be holding the other's hand, much smaller, their skin where it is revealing seems to have deep wounds. The larger person holds their hand with care, both of them wearing the exact same outfit, black everything, doing their best to conceal themselves in the night. The larger person's hand seems darker, although with scars just as deep. When they arrive at the tavern they walk inside, silently ordering a room with the little money they do have, before buying the cheapest meal they can, sitting silently at a table in the corner. Despite wearing identical clothes they provide different auras around them, the larger's dark and ominous, while the smaller's filled with a brightness. They eat without words begin spoken.
Thirteen sits not far away at his typical booth, pondering his orrery. He looks up at the pair curiously.
Whenever he looks at them the larger seems to stare back, like they're burrowing into Thirteen's soul with their dark eyes, but the smaller always tugs on their cloak and stops them.
This only heightens Thirteen’s interests. He tucks the orb back into his satchel and takes out his journal.
Radiant energy seems to move off the smaller in waves as they talk to each other silently. Eventually the larger seems to slump their shoulders as the smaller waves Thirteen over.
Thirteen stands and moves over, not sitting, trying to gauge their reaction. “Yes?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
Fate... a concept commonly considered to be an unclashable force, the thought that whatever is supposed to happen will, but what if the cards fate dealt weren't truly right. What if someone was destined for something that should never have come, a fate that is entirely monstrous?
Arriving in town are two people, both covered in jet black cloaks that flutter in the midnight breeze, one appears to be holding the other's hand, much smaller, their skin where it is revealing seems to have deep wounds. The larger person holds their hand with care, both of them wearing the exact same outfit, black everything, doing their best to conceal themselves in the night. The larger person's hand seems darker, although with scars just as deep. When they arrive at the tavern they walk inside, silently ordering a room with the little money they do have, before buying the cheapest meal they can, sitting silently at a table in the corner. Despite wearing identical clothes they provide different auras around them, the larger's dark and ominous, while the smaller's filled with a brightness. They eat without words begin spoken.
Thirteen sits not far away at his typical booth, pondering his orrery. He looks up at the pair curiously.
Whenever he looks at them the larger seems to stare back, like they're burrowing into Thirteen's soul with their dark eyes, but the smaller always tugs on their cloak and stops them.
This only heightens Thirteen’s interests. He tucks the orb back into his satchel and takes out his journal.
Radiant energy seems to move off the smaller in waves as they talk to each other silently. Eventually the larger seems to slump their shoulders as the smaller waves Thirteen over.
Thirteen stands and moves over, not sitting, trying to gauge their reaction. “Yes?”
The larger doesnt speak, although the smaller does, having the voice of a young child "Hello, nice to meet you."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
So spend your hours on What you think I've done wrong I know I'm in your mind I've been here way too long I want to spend my life With those who've done me right Your heart is frozen over I'm a four-leaf clover
Fate... a concept commonly considered to be an unclashable force, the thought that whatever is supposed to happen will, but what if the cards fate dealt weren't truly right. What if someone was destined for something that should never have come, a fate that is entirely monstrous?
Arriving in town are two people, both covered in jet black cloaks that flutter in the midnight breeze, one appears to be holding the other's hand, much smaller, their skin where it is revealing seems to have deep wounds. The larger person holds their hand with care, both of them wearing the exact same outfit, black everything, doing their best to conceal themselves in the night. The larger person's hand seems darker, although with scars just as deep. When they arrive at the tavern they walk inside, silently ordering a room with the little money they do have, before buying the cheapest meal they can, sitting silently at a table in the corner. Despite wearing identical clothes they provide different auras around them, the larger's dark and ominous, while the smaller's filled with a brightness. They eat without words begin spoken.
Thirteen sits not far away at his typical booth, pondering his orrery. He looks up at the pair curiously.
Whenever he looks at them the larger seems to stare back, like they're burrowing into Thirteen's soul with their dark eyes, but the smaller always tugs on their cloak and stops them.
This only heightens Thirteen’s interests. He tucks the orb back into his satchel and takes out his journal.
Radiant energy seems to move off the smaller in waves as they talk to each other silently. Eventually the larger seems to slump their shoulders as the smaller waves Thirteen over.
Thirteen stands and moves over, not sitting, trying to gauge their reaction. “Yes?”
The larger doesnt speak, although the smaller does, having the voice of a young child "Hello, nice to meet you."
“Good to meet you to. What did you want?” Thirteen sits down tentatively. Insight: 25
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
*I statted out Podmorski as a level 6 gestalted PC. My DM allowed the Mystic class and I'm going to make him regret it. Pod is also a Battlesmith, because of course.*
*That's cool dude, honestly most people are afraid to do campaigns with me as a player anymore, because of the whole accidental minmaxing thing I often end up doing unfortunately. Trying to push back on that, hope your campaign goes well.*
*I'm sorry to hear that. Pretty much every character at my table is OP in some way, and we've gotten used to that fact and just share the spotlight. The DM likes it that way.*
*Your table sounds like a good one man, I'm not worried, I'll find my group one of these days, and I'll stick with them.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
*That's cool dude, honestly most people are afraid to do campaigns with me as a player anymore, because of the whole accidental minmaxing thing I often end up doing unfortunately. Trying to push back on that, hope your campaign goes well.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*[crashes through the ceiling] Hello, everyone!*
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*Yep.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Hello Yvonne, good to see ya.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
Thirteen sits not far away at his typical booth, pondering his orrery. He looks up at the pair curiously.
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
*I really like it. I’ve been saying since the beginning of 5e that we needed a fully psionic-based class, but not just the Psion again*
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
*I'm sorry to hear that. Pretty much every character at my table is OP in some way, and we've gotten used to that fact and just share the spotlight. The DM likes it that way.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Whenever he looks at them the larger seems to stare back, like they're burrowing into Thirteen's soul with their dark eyes, but the smaller always tugs on their cloak and stops them.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*Morning, my superb storytelling spider sister! What's the word?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
This only heightens Thirteen’s interests. He tucks the orb back into his satchel and takes out his journal.
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
Radiant energy seems to move off the smaller in waves as they talk to each other silently. Eventually the larger seems to slump their shoulders as the smaller waves Thirteen over.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
Thirteen stands and moves over, not sitting, trying to gauge their reaction. “Yes?”
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
*All is well, my climactic-occurence-kindling kindred! How doth thee fare?*
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The larger doesnt speak, although the smaller does, having the voice of a young child "Hello, nice to meet you."
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
(Hi Yvonne)
So spend your hours on
What you think I've done wrong
I know I'm in your mind
I've been here way too long
I want to spend my life
With those who've done me right
Your heart is frozen over
I'm a four-leaf clover
“Good to meet you to. What did you want?” Thirteen sits down tentatively. Insight: 25
This is just Jobah619 again btw
Protect trans kids
Though you rested, you were not content to remain. And so you just had to seek me out.
(Does anyone want to rp?)
Extended signature
*Your table sounds like a good one man, I'm not worried, I'll find my group one of these days, and I'll stick with them.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*My allergies refuse to stop.*
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
*I shall brainstorm a character here. Again. And hopefully keep going with it.*
Heya everyone! I'm EJO, DDB's resident immortal Welsh medieval rat who appears randomly roughly once every week.
I'm not active much, but always up to talk when I am.
I'm known as CptKurn nearly everywhere but here.
Do not ask me about anything I like because I WILL waffle on for half an hour.