*The boi who fibbed, come to shrive? I've done enough running and hiding already. Face me at your worst! Ha!*
*Cant check out the link, and I understand absolutely nothing of what you’re staying, the vibes are immaculate though.*
*Blodborg was written by John e Evanofski with artwork by Lettuce and inspired by the hit video game Bloodborne by FromSoftware. It is an expansion for the awesome, gory and gruesome Old School Tabletop RPG Mörkborg. Blodborg is a mashup of the lore and combat systems of these two grimdark fantasy worlds.
The Blodborg downloadable handbook includes:
8 playable classes
31 deadly monstrosities
20 weapons based on the series, with special trick mechanics*
*Thank you!*
*I'm rising like the cinders of the fire, I'mma burn it all down I'm a sinner, I'm a liar, I'm a hound, Hell-bound. They won't fight, watch em' run, buncha cowards... Sorry father, took a life and I'm proud.*
*Oh that’s very interesting indeed, maybe I’ll check that out when I have the chance. Also, just want to clarify this with you one last time just to be sure, you don’t want Rag to die a permanent death?*
*He can stay dead for a little bit. As a treat.*
*But I don't see the point of killing him forever. He's a beloved character and you told me recently that he was one of your favorites.*
*I do love him, but as you know I also hate myself. Anyway, I’ll do that, let him stay dead for a lil bit as a little treat, honestly he might be my favorite character, but idk. He’ll probably die tomorrow, maybe today. Wanna rp?*
*But I don't see the point of killing him forever. He's a beloved character and you told me recently that he was one of your favorites.*
*I do love him, but as you know I also hate myself. Anyway, I’ll do that, let him stay dead for a lil bit as a little treat, honestly he might be my favorite character, but idk. He’ll probably die tomorrow, maybe today. Wanna rp?*
*I would suggest doing the opposite of hating yourself, but I will join you in RP. Catch!*
*(yeets a fat bee at you)*
Captain Amatarou is sitting in the woods, trying to open a two-liter soda bottle without it fizzing over. His fuzzy paws are covered in blood, and multiple Atrefacts and the bodies of several Blackhearts lie around him, each corpse slashed and stabbed repeatedly and mercilessly. Some still have knives in them. He doesn't seem bothered by the smell of spilled blood and feces, instead focusing on the big bottle in his hands.
*But I don't see the point of killing him forever. He's a beloved character and you told me recently that he was one of your favorites.*
*I do love him, but as you know I also hate myself. Anyway, I’ll do that, let him stay dead for a lil bit as a little treat, honestly he might be my favorite character, but idk. He’ll probably die tomorrow, maybe today. Wanna rp?*
*I would suggest doing the opposite of hating yourself, but I will join you in RP. Catch!*
*(yeets a fat bee at you)*
Captain Amatarou is sitting in the woods, trying to open a two-liter soda bottle without it fizzing over. His fuzzy paws are covered in blood, and multiple Atrefacts and the bodies of several Blackhearts lie around him, each corpse slashed and stabbed repeatedly and mercilessly. Some still have knives in them. He doesn't seem bothered by the smell of spilled blood and feces, instead focusing on the big bottle in his hands.
*Eh, I try not to, but it’s so easy when you’re the worst. Statistically speaking, there is a worst person in the world.*
Gin looks down at the corpses as he passes by, kneeling in front of one, how he got past all of the guards and others in the area is a mystery. He begins taking the knives out of the body, he must have smelt the blood and death. He begins silently praying, likely for these people, and for their salvation despite being already dead.
*I would suggest doing the opposite of hating yourself, but I will join you in RP. Catch!*
*(yeets a fat bee at you)*
Captain Amatarou is sitting in the woods, trying to open a two-liter soda bottle without it fizzing over. His fuzzy paws are covered in blood, and multiple Atrefacts and the bodies of several Blackhearts lie around him, each corpse slashed and stabbed repeatedly and mercilessly. Some still have knives in them. He doesn't seem bothered by the smell of spilled blood and feces, instead focusing on the big bottle in his hands.
*Eh, I try not to, but it’s so easy when you’re the worst. Statistically speaking, there is a worst person in the world.*
Gin looks down at the corpses as he passes by, kneeling in front of one, how he got past all of the guards and others in the area is a mystery. He begins taking the knives out of the body, he must have smelt the blood and death. He begins silently praying, likely for these people, and for their salvation despite being already dead.
*Statistically speaking, you're not him. How many times have you organized a genocide and the corruption of the majority of a country? How many times have you betrayed the son of God Himself for thirty pieces of silver? How many world wars have you started?* *You are not the worst, and certainly not close to the worst. At a minimum, you are above average morally, if purely because of how bad people can truly be. We live in an awful world, and I want you to direct that hatred outward. Be righteously angry, and make a change. You will love the man in the mirror because you will mold him into the hero you need.*
Amatarou doesn't stop Gin or protest. He bows his head, the brim of his hat covering his eyes as he continues what he's doing.
*I would suggest doing the opposite of hating yourself, but I will join you in RP. Catch!*
*(yeets a fat bee at you)*
Captain Amatarou is sitting in the woods, trying to open a two-liter soda bottle without it fizzing over. His fuzzy paws are covered in blood, and multiple Atrefacts and the bodies of several Blackhearts lie around him, each corpse slashed and stabbed repeatedly and mercilessly. Some still have knives in them. He doesn't seem bothered by the smell of spilled blood and feces, instead focusing on the big bottle in his hands.
*Eh, I try not to, but it’s so easy when you’re the worst. Statistically speaking, there is a worst person in the world.*
Gin looks down at the corpses as he passes by, kneeling in front of one, how he got past all of the guards and others in the area is a mystery. He begins taking the knives out of the body, he must have smelt the blood and death. He begins silently praying, likely for these people, and for their salvation despite being already dead.
*Statistically speaking, you're not him. How many times have you organized a genocide and the corruption of the majority of a country? How many times have you betrayed the son of God Himself for thirty pieces of silver? How many world wars have you started?* *You are not the worst, and certainly not close to the worst. At a minimum, you are above average morally, if purely because of how bad people can truly be. We live in an awful world, and I want you to direct that hatred outward. Be righteously angry, and make a change. You will love the man in the mirror because you will mold him into the hero you need.*
Amatarou doesn't stop Gin or protest. He bows his head, the brim of his hat covering his eyes as he continues what he's doing.
*If you say so Baalze, I’m not going to try and stop you from making me a better person, even if that man in the mirror can be molded to become that worst person in the world, or at least the worst person of today. Thanks Baalze, you’re my anchor man.*
Once he’s done praying for the dead men, he stands up, looking to the robot bee next to him, smelling the air, “You aren’t organic.” He says in his gruff tone, speaking softly, “At least not mostly.” He says, putting the knives he took from the body at the corpse’s feet.
Drilin is also in the woods, and smelling blood, he approaches
He finds an obese bee-like humanoid dressed like a military captain with an open coat and no shirt on underneath, likely because it wouldn't fit his soft frame. He's sitting on a log, surrounded by corpses of humanoids and their Nightmare companions, trying to open a two-liter bottle of soda with his gore-soaked paws. He looks up at Drillin, smiling and waving. "Hello there! What brings you out here?"
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.
Drilin is also in the woods, and smelling blood, he approaches
He finds an obese bee-like humanoid dressed like a military captain with an open coat and no shirt on underneath, likely because it wouldn't fit his soft frame. He's sitting on a log, surrounded by corpses of humanoids and their Nightmare companions, trying to open a two-liter bottle of soda with his gore-soaked paws. He looks up at Drillin, smiling and waving. "Hello there! What brings you out here?"
'Uh, I'm out here.... hunting. What about you?'
Drilin eyes up the corpses on the floor, ready to loot them once they are unattended
*Statistically speaking, you're not him. How many times have you organized a genocide and the corruption of the majority of a country? How many times have you betrayed the son of God Himself for thirty pieces of silver? How many world wars have you started?* *You are not the worst, and certainly not close to the worst. At a minimum, you are above average morally, if purely because of how bad people can truly be. We live in an awful world, and I want you to direct that hatred outward. Be righteously angry, and make a change. You will love the man in the mirror because you will mold him into the hero you need.*
Amatarou doesn't stop Gin or protest. He bows his head, the brim of his hat covering his eyes as he continues what he's doing.
*If you say so Baalze, I’m not going to try and stop you from making me a better person, even if that man in the mirror can be molded to become that worst person in the world, or at least the worst person of today. Thanks Baalze, you’re my anchor man.*
Once he’s done praying for the dead men, he stands up, looking to the robot bee next to him, smelling the air, “You aren’t organic.” He says in his gruff tone, speaking softly, “At least not mostly.” He says, putting the knives he took from the body at the corpse’s feet.
*I'm not always going to be here for you, Jester. You need to take better care of yourself, mentally at least. I love you, but one day I am certain we will drift apart, possibly because Wizards shut down the forums and you don't have Discord as far as I know. I'm hard on myself too, but my counselor and friends help me recognize where I fall so I can improve. So improve, not just for my sake, but for yours. I can't force you to do anything, but I don't want to have to worry about you whenever I'm not actively talking with you. You're important to me, and I love you so much. Make me proud.*
"No, I'm not. Why do you mention it?" He finally manages to open the bottle, smiling as he does so.
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.
*Statistically speaking, you're not him. How many times have you organized a genocide and the corruption of the majority of a country? How many times have you betrayed the son of God Himself for thirty pieces of silver? How many world wars have you started?* *You are not the worst, and certainly not close to the worst. At a minimum, you are above average morally, if purely because of how bad people can truly be. We live in an awful world, and I want you to direct that hatred outward. Be righteously angry, and make a change. You will love the man in the mirror because you will mold him into the hero you need.*
Amatarou doesn't stop Gin or protest. He bows his head, the brim of his hat covering his eyes as he continues what he's doing.
*If you say so Baalze, I’m not going to try and stop you from making me a better person, even if that man in the mirror can be molded to become that worst person in the world, or at least the worst person of today. Thanks Baalze, you’re my anchor man.*
Once he’s done praying for the dead men, he stands up, looking to the robot bee next to him, smelling the air, “You aren’t organic.” He says in his gruff tone, speaking softly, “At least not mostly.” He says, putting the knives he took from the body at the corpse’s feet.
*I'm not always going to be here for you, Jester. You need to take better care of yourself, mentally at least. I love you, but one day I am certain we will drift apart, possibly because Wizards shut down the forums and you don't have Discord as far as I know. I'm hard on myself too, but my counselor and friends help me recognize where I fall so I can improve. So improve, not just for my sake, but for yours. I can't force you to do anything, but I don't want to have to worry about you whenever I'm not actively talking with you. You're important to me, and I love you so much. Make me proud.*
"No, I'm not. Why do you mention it?" He finally manages to open the bottle, smiling as he does so.
*Sigh, I love you too Baalze, thank you.*
He smiles back at them, “Just noticed I didn’t smell anything… living about you.” He walks over, standing next to them, “May I have some?”
He finds an obese bee-like humanoid dressed like a military captain with an open coat and no shirt on underneath, likely because it wouldn't fit his soft frame. He's sitting on a log, surrounded by corpses of humanoids and their Nightmare companions, trying to open a two-liter bottle of soda with his gore-soaked paws. He looks up at Drillin, smiling and waving. "Hello there! What brings you out here?"
'Uh, I'm out here.... hunting. What about you?'
Drilin eyes up the corpses on the floor, ready to loot them once they are unattended
"Same, actually. Well, more of defending my people, but that requires a lot of awareness and offensive tactics." He gets up and starts picking up the Artefacts on the ground. "Could you see if you can open that bottle without it blowing up? I'll let you pillage these poor folks afterward. Please and thank you."
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.
He finds an obese bee-like humanoid dressed like a military captain with an open coat and no shirt on underneath, likely because it wouldn't fit his soft frame. He's sitting on a log, surrounded by corpses of humanoids and their Nightmare companions, trying to open a two-liter bottle of soda with his gore-soaked paws. He looks up at Drillin, smiling and waving. "Hello there! What brings you out here?"
'Uh, I'm out here.... hunting. What about you?'
Drilin eyes up the corpses on the floor, ready to loot them once they are unattended
"Same, actually. Well, more of defending my people, but that requires a lot of awareness and offensive tactics." He gets up and starts picking up the Artefacts on the ground. "Could you see if you can open that bottle without it blowing up? I'll let you pillage these poor folks afterward. Please and thank you."
'Sure, I can try' Drilin tries to open the bottle. 'How ya know why I was here?'
*I'm not always going to be here for you, Jester. You need to take better care of yourself, mentally at least. I love you, but one day I am certain we will drift apart, possibly because Wizards shut down the forums and you don't have Discord as far as I know. I'm hard on myself too, but my counselor and friends help me recognize where I fall so I can improve. So improve, not just for my sake, but for yours. I can't force you to do anything, but I don't want to have to worry about you whenever I'm not actively talking with you. You're important to me, and I love you so much. Make me proud.*
"No, I'm not. Why do you mention it?" He finally manages to open the bottle, smiling as he does so.
*Sigh, I love you too Baalze, thank you.*
He smiles back at them, “Just noticed I didn’t smell anything… living about you.” He walks over, standing next to them, “May I have some?”
"Oh, of course!" He offers the bottle. "Sorry about the trouble. These guys had been trashing supplies around my camp and planned on killing anyone who confronted them. I just happened to have more tricks than they had expected."
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.
*I'm not always going to be here for you, Jester. You need to take better care of yourself, mentally at least. I love you, but one day I am certain we will drift apart, possibly because Wizards shut down the forums and you don't have Discord as far as I know. I'm hard on myself too, but my counselor and friends help me recognize where I fall so I can improve. So improve, not just for my sake, but for yours. I can't force you to do anything, but I don't want to have to worry about you whenever I'm not actively talking with you. You're important to me, and I love you so much. Make me proud.*
"No, I'm not. Why do you mention it?" He finally manages to open the bottle, smiling as he does so.
*Sigh, I love you too Baalze, thank you.*
He smiles back at them, “Just noticed I didn’t smell anything… living about you.” He walks over, standing next to them, “May I have some?”
"Oh, of course!" He offers the bottle. "Sorry about the trouble. These guys had been trashing supplies around my camp and planned on killing anyone who confronted them. I just happened to have more tricks than they had expected."
“Such is the way things are, some people kill, some people get killed, we all die the same. May the All Father guide them home.” He takes the bottle, drinking some of it down, making sure none spills onto his absolutely beautiful hair.
*what if my henchman dude had the taskmaster ability where he has to spend a bit of time to fully copy a person ability.*
*Well, that’s just photographic memory and muscle replication, but I love a good henchman, who’s he a henchman for? Or is he retired?*
*More so an Imp-like creature who was adopted by a lich to be a familiar but was had their spirit shoved into a humanoid body. They still retain some of their impish qualities like unconsciously crawling around on all four or trying to jump off of high places to fly but can't because.. y'know.*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
*I do love him, but as you know I also hate myself. Anyway, I’ll do that, let him stay dead for a lil bit as a little treat, honestly he might be my favorite character, but idk. He’ll probably die tomorrow, maybe today. Wanna rp?*
*I would suggest doing the opposite of hating yourself, but I will join you in RP. Catch!*
*(yeets a fat bee at you)*
Captain Amatarou is sitting in the woods, trying to open a two-liter soda bottle without it fizzing over. His fuzzy paws are covered in blood, and multiple Atrefacts and the bodies of several Blackhearts lie around him, each corpse slashed and stabbed repeatedly and mercilessly. Some still have knives in them. He doesn't seem bothered by the smell of spilled blood and feces, instead focusing on the big bottle in his hands.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Eh, I try not to, but it’s so easy when you’re the worst. Statistically speaking, there is a worst person in the world.*
Gin looks down at the corpses as he passes by, kneeling in front of one, how he got past all of the guards and others in the area is a mystery. He begins taking the knives out of the body, he must have smelt the blood and death. He begins silently praying, likely for these people, and for their salvation despite being already dead.
Drilin is also in the woods, and smelling blood, he approaches
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
*Statistically speaking, you're not him. How many times have you organized a genocide and the corruption of the majority of a country? How many times have you betrayed the son of God Himself for thirty pieces of silver? How many world wars have you started?*
*You are not the worst, and certainly not close to the worst. At a minimum, you are above average morally, if purely because of how bad people can truly be. We live in an awful world, and I want you to direct that hatred outward. Be righteously angry, and make a change. You will love the man in the mirror because you will mold him into the hero you need.*
Amatarou doesn't stop Gin or protest. He bows his head, the brim of his hat covering his eyes as he continues what he's doing.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Drilin is watching from the shadows for Gin to have finished consecrating the bodies.
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
*If you say so Baalze, I’m not going to try and stop you from making me a better person, even if that man in the mirror can be molded to become that worst person in the world, or at least the worst person of today. Thanks Baalze, you’re my anchor man.*
Once he’s done praying for the dead men, he stands up, looking to the robot bee next to him, smelling the air, “You aren’t organic.” He says in his gruff tone, speaking softly, “At least not mostly.” He says, putting the knives he took from the body at the corpse’s feet.
He finds an obese bee-like humanoid dressed like a military captain with an open coat and no shirt on underneath, likely because it wouldn't fit his soft frame. He's sitting on a log, surrounded by corpses of humanoids and their Nightmare companions, trying to open a two-liter bottle of soda with his gore-soaked paws. He looks up at Drillin, smiling and waving. "Hello there! What brings you out here?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
'Uh, I'm out here.... hunting. What about you?'
Drilin eyes up the corpses on the floor, ready to loot them once they are unattended
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
*I'm not always going to be here for you, Jester. You need to take better care of yourself, mentally at least. I love you, but one day I am certain we will drift apart, possibly because Wizards shut down the forums and you don't have Discord as far as I know. I'm hard on myself too, but my counselor and friends help me recognize where I fall so I can improve. So improve, not just for my sake, but for yours. I can't force you to do anything, but I don't want to have to worry about you whenever I'm not actively talking with you. You're important to me, and I love you so much. Make me proud.*
"No, I'm not. Why do you mention it?" He finally manages to open the bottle, smiling as he does so.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*what if my henchman dude had the taskmaster ability where he has to spend a bit of time to fully copy a person ability.*
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*Sigh, I love you too Baalze, thank you.*
He smiles back at them, “Just noticed I didn’t smell anything… living about you.” He walks over, standing next to them, “May I have some?”
"Same, actually. Well, more of defending my people, but that requires a lot of awareness and offensive tactics." He gets up and starts picking up the Artefacts on the ground. "Could you see if you can open that bottle without it blowing up? I'll let you pillage these poor folks afterward. Please and thank you."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Well, that’s just photographic memory and muscle replication, but I love a good henchman, who’s he a henchman for? Or is he retired?*
'Sure, I can try' Drilin tries to open the bottle. 'How ya know why I was here?'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
"Oh, of course!" He offers the bottle. "Sorry about the trouble. These guys had been trashing supplies around my camp and planned on killing anyone who confronted them. I just happened to have more tricks than they had expected."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Squepic. Sounds perfect for a minion who works directly with their master.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
“Such is the way things are, some people kill, some people get killed, we all die the same. May the All Father guide them home.” He takes the bottle, drinking some of it down, making sure none spills onto his absolutely beautiful hair.
*More so an Imp-like creature who was adopted by a lich to be a familiar but was had their spirit shoved into a humanoid body. They still retain some of their impish qualities like unconsciously crawling around on all four or trying to jump off of high places to fly but can't because.. y'know.*
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
*Just a gangly limb man.*
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]