The Seer notices the Tarnished's hand, moving over to him.
"What's wrong? Not one for madness?"
He stands up slowly, his armor creaking. For the first time he speaks, his voice is soft. "No."
She scoffs, seeming displeased, before drifting back over to Helena. "And what about you? No as well, I assme?"
"Nor do I." she says, standing by the Tarnished.
"Aw, you two are no fun..." She turns back to face the Inn. "Well, I'm going to go back and find a way inside. I'll be watching."
And with that, she is back at around the Inn, trying to break the seals with sheer force.
The Tarnished grabs her arm and yanks her away with a strange amount of strength
She pulls back with a deceptively large amount of strength of her own- though, this strength seems entirely magical in nature. "Now, now- You'll get your chance to challenge me soon enough. Be patient." She returns to trying to brute-force her way through the barrier.
The ground cracks a bit as he yanks back. "No."
STR: 25
He pulls the Seer back away from the Inn- and her arm is pulled off from the force with a sickening snap of bone. There is no blood from the wound. She seems mildly annoyed, but that is all. "When you're done trying to fight me, can you give me that back? It's a pain trying to make another one."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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 Seer notices the Tarnished's hand, moving over to him.
"What's wrong? Not one for madness?"
He stands up slowly, his armor creaking. For the first time he speaks, his voice is soft. "No."
She scoffs, seeming displeased, before drifting back over to Helena. "And what about you? No as well, I assme?"
"Nor do I." she says, standing by the Tarnished.
"Aw, you two are no fun..." She turns back to face the Inn. "Well, I'm going to go back and find a way inside. I'll be watching."
And with that, she is back at around the Inn, trying to break the seals with sheer force.
The Tarnished grabs her arm and yanks her away with a strange amount of strength
She pulls back with a deceptively large amount of strength of her own- though, this strength seems entirely magical in nature. "Now, now- You'll get your chance to challenge me soon enough. Be patient." She returns to trying to brute-force her way through the barrier.
The ground cracks a bit as he yanks back. "No."
STR: 25
He pulls the Seer back away from the Inn- and her arm is pulled off from the force with a sickening snap of bone. There is no blood from the wound. She seems mildly annoyed, but that is all. "When you're done trying to fight me, can you give me that back? It's a pain trying to make another one."
He throws the arm aside, drawing his sword and shield.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
“No, no, I’m very interested to hear what you have to say.”
“You just rest, and don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of everything.”
"If you die, these wards will go down and we'll be susceptible to monsters. You do realize that?"
He nods, crawling under the covers.
“They don’t keep out monsters. The inn has its own mundane protective field for purely physical purposes. My wards repel extraplanar beings of certain power levels, and any proper wizard, warlock, or paladin of the Oath of the Watchers could maintain them.”
“Sweet dreams. Love you!” Mauric says softly, and exits his room.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
“No, no, I’m very interested to hear what you have to say.”
“You just rest, and don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of everything.”
"If you die, these wards will go down and we'll be susceptible to monsters. You do realize that?"
He nods, crawling under the covers.
“They don’t keep out monsters. The inn has its own mundane protective field for purely physical purposes. My wards repel extraplanar beings of certain power levels, and any proper wizard, warlock, or paladin of the Oath of the Watchers could maintain them.”
“Sweet dreams. Love you!” Mauric says softly, and exits his room.
"Still....we cant have you dying mate."
"Love you too..." he mumbles, falling asleep
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
The Seer notices the Tarnished's hand, moving over to him.
"What's wrong? Not one for madness?"
He stands up slowly, his armor creaking. For the first time he speaks, his voice is soft. "No."
She scoffs, seeming displeased, before drifting back over to Helena. "And what about you? No as well, I assme?"
"Nor do I." she says, standing by the Tarnished.
"Aw, you two are no fun..." She turns back to face the Inn. "Well, I'm going to go back and find a way inside. I'll be watching."
And with that, she is back at around the Inn, trying to break the seals with sheer force.
The Tarnished grabs her arm and yanks her away with a strange amount of strength
She pulls back with a deceptively large amount of strength of her own- though, this strength seems entirely magical in nature. "Now, now- You'll get your chance to challenge me soon enough. Be patient." She returns to trying to brute-force her way through the barrier.
The ground cracks a bit as he yanks back. "No."
STR: 25
He pulls the Seer back away from the Inn- and her arm is pulled off from the force with a sickening snap of bone. There is no blood from the wound. She seems mildly annoyed, but that is all. "When you're done trying to fight me, can you give me that back? It's a pain trying to make another one."
He throws the arm aside, drawing his sword and shield.
"Alright, fine, I'll fight you. Persistent much?" They move over to their arm, picking it up and snapping it back into place with a gut-wrenching crunch of bone. "Though, I do have one question. If you're over here, at the Inn, fighting me..." A sadistic grin creeps up her face.
"Then who's protecting her?"
She appears over by Helena and prepares a base level finger of death.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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 Seer notices the Tarnished's hand, moving over to him.
"What's wrong? Not one for madness?"
He stands up slowly, his armor creaking. For the first time he speaks, his voice is soft. "No."
She scoffs, seeming displeased, before drifting back over to Helena. "And what about you? No as well, I assme?"
"Nor do I." she says, standing by the Tarnished.
"Aw, you two are no fun..." She turns back to face the Inn. "Well, I'm going to go back and find a way inside. I'll be watching."
And with that, she is back at around the Inn, trying to break the seals with sheer force.
The Tarnished grabs her arm and yanks her away with a strange amount of strength
She pulls back with a deceptively large amount of strength of her own- though, this strength seems entirely magical in nature. "Now, now- You'll get your chance to challenge me soon enough. Be patient." She returns to trying to brute-force her way through the barrier.
The ground cracks a bit as he yanks back. "No."
STR: 25
He pulls the Seer back away from the Inn- and her arm is pulled off from the force with a sickening snap of bone. There is no blood from the wound. She seems mildly annoyed, but that is all. "When you're done trying to fight me, can you give me that back? It's a pain trying to make another one."
He throws the arm aside, drawing his sword and shield.
"Alright, fine, I'll fight you. Persistent much?" They move over to their arm, picking it up and snapping it back into place with a gut-wrenching crunch of bone. "Though, I do have one question. If you're over here, at the Inn, fighting me..." A sadistic grin creeps up her face.
"Then who's protecting her?"
She appears over by Helena and prepares a base level finger of death.
There is a flash of movement as The Tarnished appears in front of Helena. Helena herself prepares a counterspell.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3 Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
“No, no, I’m very interested to hear what you have to say.”
“You just rest, and don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of everything.”
"If you die, these wards will go down and we'll be susceptible to monsters. You do realize that?"
He nods, crawling under the covers.
“They don’t keep out monsters. The inn has its own mundane protective field for purely physical purposes. My wards repel extraplanar beings of certain power levels, and any proper wizard, warlock, or paladin of the Oath of the Watchers could maintain them.”
“Sweet dreams. Love you!” Mauric says softly, and exits his room.
"Still....we cant have you dying mate."
"Love you too..." he mumbles, falling asleep
“Oh, so you don’t seem to understand properly. I don’t take actions without contingency or forethought. First of all, I could sustain fatal damage three times before permanently dying, and by that point I doubt any foes could even keep going. If I did pass, I have hundreds of allies, dozens of clones of myself, and THOUSANDS of undead that will rally around me, and every one of my clones and allies are just about equal to my own level of power. Don’t take me for a feeble old elf, Phoenix. The only ones who should think of me that way are my enemies.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
*Random character ideas I've had this morning:
- Drow Elf Matron, who can change genders, is a cleric for the Godbeing of Gender.
- Dark Prince who takes on the features of the fears of who he looks at.
- Water Deity.
- Fey King of the spaces between the stars
- A being born from the blood of an old god.*
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
Thirteen sits up properly, sighing. “Well sorry for scaring you then.”
“Any better?”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*all of these are such good ideas dude*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Phoenix mutters something, sipping his tea.
He nods and yawns. "Just sleepy now..."
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*I kinda want to make the Fey King and the Bloodborn.*
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
He pulls the Seer back away from the Inn- and her arm is pulled off from the force with a sickening snap of bone. There is no blood from the wound. She seems mildly annoyed, but that is all. "When you're done trying to fight me, can you give me that back? It's a pain trying to make another one."
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)
“Pardon?”
Mauric smiles warmly at him. “I bet.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
He throws the arm aside, drawing his sword and shield.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"Nevermind.."
He flops backwards on his bed
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*you should. though do you mind if i take the water deity idea and put a spin on 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.
*course!*
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
“No, no, I’m very interested to hear what you have to say.”
“You just rest, and don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of everything.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"If you die, these wards will go down and we'll be susceptible to monsters. You do realize that?"
He nods, crawling under the covers.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
*cool. I’m gonna combine river yokai, the Arthurian legend of the Fisher King, and Perfect Chaos from Sonic Adventure.*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
“They don’t keep out monsters. The inn has its own mundane protective field for purely physical purposes. My wards repel extraplanar beings of certain power levels, and any proper wizard, warlock, or paladin of the Oath of the Watchers could maintain them.”
“Sweet dreams. Love you!” Mauric says softly, and exits his room.
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
"Still....we cant have you dying mate."
"Love you too..." he mumbles, falling asleep
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
"Alright, fine, I'll fight you. Persistent much?" They move over to their arm, picking it up and snapping it back into place with a gut-wrenching crunch of bone. "Though, I do have one question. If you're over here, at the Inn, fighting me..." A sadistic grin creeps up her face.
"Then who's protecting her?"
She appears over by Helena and prepares a base level finger of death.
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)
There is a flash of movement as The Tarnished appears in front of Helena. Helena herself prepares a counterspell.
Ye old creator of characters
Tortured poet and writer
This mortal body is expendable, I will be released from my binding soon.
hi
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
“Oh, so you don’t seem to understand properly. I don’t take actions without contingency or forethought. First of all, I could sustain fatal damage three times before permanently dying, and by that point I doubt any foes could even keep going. If I did pass, I have hundreds of allies, dozens of clones of myself, and THOUSANDS of undead that will rally around me, and every one of my clones and allies are just about equal to my own level of power. Don’t take me for a feeble old elf, Phoenix. The only ones who should think of me that way are my enemies.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.