Happy Chaos is with his army of altered, causing as much visible destruction as he possibly can, hoping that his plan works in breaking the unshakable faith the mortals have, and hoping that his death will complete such a process.
Szerucharz approaches from the distance, his four eyes gleaming like hateful, discolored suns in the pitch black under his top hat. He's larger than most mountains, and is dragging a pigsplitter big enough to crush a city block behind him. The sky grows dark, and it begins to rain red wine. "Fetid imps, the lot of you. The mortals will thank me for putting your kind down."
Happy Chaos stands in their line of view, his hands behind his back, shaking his head “Don’t do that, they wouldn’t die unless you destroy their souls, and if you destroy their souls I’ll kill you.” His voice is solemn and cold, his eyes dead inside “I don’t want to kill you, I want to die for the sake of the mortals of the world.”
His eyes shine even brighter, the light nearly blinding. "I wasn't talking about the Altered." He raises the ludicrously oversized cleaver over his head. "You've got good in you, deep down. I'm glad you realize what has to happen."
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.
Happy Chaos is with his army of altered, causing as much visible destruction as he possibly can, hoping that his plan works in breaking the unshakable faith the mortals have, and hoping that his death will complete such a process.
Szerucharz approaches from the distance, his four eyes gleaming like hateful, discolored suns in the pitch black under his top hat. He's larger than most mountains, and is dragging a pigsplitter big enough to crush a city block behind him. The sky grows dark, and it begins to rain red wine. "Fetid imps, the lot of you. The mortals will thank me for putting your kind down."
Happy Chaos stands in their line of view, his hands behind his back, shaking his head “Don’t do that, they wouldn’t die unless you destroy their souls, and if you destroy their souls I’ll kill you.” His voice is solemn and cold, his eyes dead inside “I don’t want to kill you, I want to die for the sake of the mortals of the world.”
His eyes shine even brighter, the light nearly blinding. "I wasn't talking about the Altered." He raises the ludicrously oversized cleaver over his head. "You've got good in you, deep down. I'm glad you realize what has to happen."
“Unfortunately I can’t die without a fight.” He reaches for his revolver, but remembers that it was taken by the snow angel. He hold out a hand and a bright blue magic sigil appears above them “I’m sorry about this one. Good luck.” A pillar of light blasts down on them. 3,000 power points. 104
Happy Chaos is with his army of altered, causing as much visible destruction as he possibly can, hoping that his plan works in breaking the unshakable faith the mortals have, and hoping that his death will complete such a process.
Szerucharz approaches from the distance, his four eyes gleaming like hateful, discolored suns in the pitch black under his top hat. He's larger than most mountains, and is dragging a pigsplitter big enough to crush a city block behind him. The sky grows dark, and it begins to rain red wine. "Fetid imps, the lot of you. The mortals will thank me for putting your kind down."
Happy Chaos stands in their line of view, his hands behind his back, shaking his head “Don’t do that, they wouldn’t die unless you destroy their souls, and if you destroy their souls I’ll kill you.” His voice is solemn and cold, his eyes dead inside “I don’t want to kill you, I want to die for the sake of the mortals of the world.”
His eyes shine even brighter, the light nearly blinding. "I wasn't talking about the Altered." He raises the ludicrously oversized cleaver over his head. "You've got good in you, deep down. I'm glad you realize what has to happen."
“Unfortunately I can’t die without a fight.” He reaches for his revolver, but remembers that it was taken by the snow angel. He hold out a hand and a bright blue magic sigil appears above them “I’m sorry about this one. Good luck.” A pillar of light blasts down on them. 3,000 power points. 104
The Great One's stance breaks slightly, weakening his blow. But it's abundantly clear before the cleaver even strikes: this isn't meant to be a fight. It's meant to be a murder.
10,000 power points. 10353
The ground shatters, creating a ravine where the blade struck. Altered and debris go flying all over the wastes.
(if the roll doesn't work, take the average:10350)
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.
*Howdy y'all. I have a dance later tonight so I'm pleased as punch.*
It is an especially hot day in Crotalus's desert. The heat wiggles the horizons and bakes the stones. The sands sizzle and all the waste critters seek shade touched nooks for comfort. It's the sort of day that you know Crotalus is walking through his land.
The desert god roams the cactus fields, plucking needles from the plants. With a dagger made of sunlight, he harvests the longest, thorniest branches of the desert. He reaches under sun baked boulders to pull rattlesnakes and scorpions from their den. He plucks the hair from a sleeping coyote's tail, gathers a hat full of sand, and harvests the black widow's web. He's collecting fragments of the desert, but why?
*Howdy y'all. I have a dance later tonight so I'm pleased as punch.*
It is an especially hot day in Crotalus's desert. The heat wiggles the horizons and bakes the stones. The sands sizzle and all the waste critters seek shade touched nooks for comfort. It's the sort of day that you know Crotalus is walking through his land.
The desert god roams the cactus fields, plucking needles from the plants. With a dagger made of sunlight, he harvests the longest, thorniest branches of the desert. He reaches under sun baked boulders to pull rattlesnakes and scorpions from their den. He plucks the hair from a sleeping coyote's tail, gathers a hat full of sand, and harvests the black widow's web. He's collecting fragments of the desert, but why?
*Heya, Dark! Good to hear it!*
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.
Happy Chaos is with his army of altered, causing as much visible destruction as he possibly can, hoping that his plan works in breaking the unshakable faith the mortals have, and hoping that his death will complete such a process.
Szerucharz approaches from the distance, his four eyes gleaming like hateful, discolored suns in the pitch black under his top hat. He's larger than most mountains, and is dragging a pigsplitter big enough to crush a city block behind him. The sky grows dark, and it begins to rain red wine. "Fetid imps, the lot of you. The mortals will thank me for putting your kind down."
Happy Chaos stands in their line of view, his hands behind his back, shaking his head “Don’t do that, they wouldn’t die unless you destroy their souls, and if you destroy their souls I’ll kill you.” His voice is solemn and cold, his eyes dead inside “I don’t want to kill you, I want to die for the sake of the mortals of the world.”
His eyes shine even brighter, the light nearly blinding. "I wasn't talking about the Altered." He raises the ludicrously oversized cleaver over his head. "You've got good in you, deep down. I'm glad you realize what has to happen."
“Unfortunately I can’t die without a fight.” He reaches for his revolver, but remembers that it was taken by the snow angel. He hold out a hand and a bright blue magic sigil appears above them “I’m sorry about this one. Good luck.” A pillar of light blasts down on them. 3,000 power points. 104
The Great One's stance breaks slightly, weakening his blow. But it's abundantly clear before the cleaver even strikes: this isn't meant to be a fight. It's meant to be a murder.
10,000 power points. 10353
The ground shatters, creating a ravine where the blade struck. Altered and debris go flying all over the wastes.
(if the roll doesn't work, take the average:10350)
The blade sticks deep into his shoulder with a violent explosion of force. He shouts “I said kill me! Try harder!” He takes the power he gave from the universal will, proving this will be his final fight. Hundreds of blue digits appear around Szerucharz and all blast heavy beams at the same time with unrelenting intensity, he says softly right before they blast “Deus Ex Machina”. 20,000 power points. 671
*Howdy y'all. I have a dance later tonight so I'm pleased as punch.*
It is an especially hot day in Crotalus's desert. The heat wiggles the horizons and bakes the stones. The sands sizzle and all the waste critters seek shade touched nooks for comfort. It's the sort of day that you know Crotalus is walking through his land.
The desert god roams the cactus fields, plucking needles from the plants. With a dagger made of sunlight, he harvests the longest, thorniest branches of the desert. He reaches under sun baked boulders to pull rattlesnakes and scorpions from their den. He plucks the hair from a sleeping coyote's tail, gathers a hat full of sand, and harvests the black widow's web. He's collecting fragments of the desert, but why?
a dust storm kicks up "what are you doing, freind?"
*Howdy y'all. I have a dance later tonight so I'm pleased as punch.*
It is an especially hot day in Crotalus's desert. The heat wiggles the horizons and bakes the stones. The sands sizzle and all the waste critters seek shade touched nooks for comfort. It's the sort of day that you know Crotalus is walking through his land.
The desert god roams the cactus fields, plucking needles from the plants. With a dagger made of sunlight, he harvests the longest, thorniest branches of the desert. He reaches under sun baked boulders to pull rattlesnakes and scorpions from their den. He plucks the hair from a sleeping coyote's tail, gathers a hat full of sand, and harvests the black widow's web. He's collecting fragments of the desert, but why?
*Heya, Dark! Good to hear it!*
*I probably won't be around for long today. How've you been Baalz?*
*Howdy y'all. I have a dance later tonight so I'm pleased as punch.*
It is an especially hot day in Crotalus's desert. The heat wiggles the horizons and bakes the stones. The sands sizzle and all the waste critters seek shade touched nooks for comfort. It's the sort of day that you know Crotalus is walking through his land.
The desert god roams the cactus fields, plucking needles from the plants. With a dagger made of sunlight, he harvests the longest, thorniest branches of the desert. He reaches under sun baked boulders to pull rattlesnakes and scorpions from their den. He plucks the hair from a sleeping coyote's tail, gathers a hat full of sand, and harvests the black widow's web. He's collecting fragments of the desert, but why?
a dust storm kicks up "what are you doing, freind?"
"Harvesting my desert. I've need for the materials." He says as he collects a tumbleweed.
*Howdy y'all. I have a dance later tonight so I'm pleased as punch.*
It is an especially hot day in Crotalus's desert. The heat wiggles the horizons and bakes the stones. The sands sizzle and all the waste critters seek shade touched nooks for comfort. It's the sort of day that you know Crotalus is walking through his land.
The desert god roams the cactus fields, plucking needles from the plants. With a dagger made of sunlight, he harvests the longest, thorniest branches of the desert. He reaches under sun baked boulders to pull rattlesnakes and scorpions from their den. He plucks the hair from a sleeping coyote's tail, gathers a hat full of sand, and harvests the black widow's web. He's collecting fragments of the desert, but why?
a dust storm kicks up "what are you doing, freind?"
"Harvesting my desert. I've need for the materials." He says as he collects a tumbleweed.
*Howdy y'all. I have a dance later tonight so I'm pleased as punch.*
It is an especially hot day in Crotalus's desert. The heat wiggles the horizons and bakes the stones. The sands sizzle and all the waste critters seek shade touched nooks for comfort. It's the sort of day that you know Crotalus is walking through his land.
The desert god roams the cactus fields, plucking needles from the plants. With a dagger made of sunlight, he harvests the longest, thorniest branches of the desert. He reaches under sun baked boulders to pull rattlesnakes and scorpions from their den. He plucks the hair from a sleeping coyote's tail, gathers a hat full of sand, and harvests the black widow's web. He's collecting fragments of the desert, but why?
A colossus with an equally gargantuan swordspear is walking through the desert, the mane of his armor grazing the ground, each step making a groove in the ground as he walks. The desert shakes with every steps he takes, his armor rumbling as he moves. A giant storm follows the man, lightning striking his body as he moves.
Happy Chaos is with his army of altered, causing as much visible destruction as he possibly can, hoping that his plan works in breaking the unshakable faith the mortals have, and hoping that his death will complete such a process.
Szerucharz approaches from the distance, his four eyes gleaming like hateful, discolored suns in the pitch black under his top hat. He's larger than most mountains, and is dragging a pigsplitter big enough to crush a city block behind him. The sky grows dark, and it begins to rain red wine. "Fetid imps, the lot of you. The mortals will thank me for putting your kind down."
Happy Chaos stands in their line of view, his hands behind his back, shaking his head “Don’t do that, they wouldn’t die unless you destroy their souls, and if you destroy their souls I’ll kill you.” His voice is solemn and cold, his eyes dead inside “I don’t want to kill you, I want to die for the sake of the mortals of the world.”
His eyes shine even brighter, the light nearly blinding. "I wasn't talking about the Altered." He raises the ludicrously oversized cleaver over his head. "You've got good in you, deep down. I'm glad you realize what has to happen."
“Unfortunately I can’t die without a fight.” He reaches for his revolver, but remembers that it was taken by the snow angel. He hold out a hand and a bright blue magic sigil appears above them “I’m sorry about this one. Good luck.” A pillar of light blasts down on them. 3,000 power points. 104
The Great One's stance breaks slightly, weakening his blow. But it's abundantly clear before the cleaver even strikes: this isn't meant to be a fight. It's meant to be a murder.
10,000 power points. 10353
The ground shatters, creating a ravine where the blade struck. Altered and debris go flying all over the wastes.
(if the roll doesn't work, take the average:10350)
The blade sticks deep into his shoulder with a violent explosion of force. He shouts “I said kill me! Try harder!” He takes the power he gave from the universal will, proving this will be his final fight. Hundreds of blue digits appear around Szerucharz and all blast heavy beams at the same time with unrelenting intensity, he says softly right before they blast “Deus Ex Machina”. 20,000 power points. 671
The enormous being staggers back, taking a knee. Then he begins to laugh as he pushes himself back to his feet. "Have a little faith, morsel. I wouldn't suffer a traitor like you to live a moment more."
90,000 power points. 12222
He reaches into the sky, piercing the cosmos. He rips something out of a hole in the sky, and a torrent of caustic, rotting red liquid roars down from the heavens. "You are the type to beat and scream at their child with the excuse of 'making them stronger.'"
He hurls the fistful of meteors he grabbed toward Happy Chaos. "The type to kill themselves rather than face the consequences of their actions."
While the moon-sized projectiles block vision, he lunges with his fork, attempting to impale Happy and pin him to the earth. "But you don't even have the strength or consideration for that, eh? You decided you'd make someone else suffer for your own weakness again instead of dealing with the real problem."
On a successful pin, he drags his long tongue along Happy's chest. "You aren't even worth skinning, let alone eating."
(Average is 405000)
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.
*Howdy y'all. I have a dance later tonight so I'm pleased as punch.*
It is an especially hot day in Crotalus's desert. The heat wiggles the horizons and bakes the stones. The sands sizzle and all the waste critters seek shade touched nooks for comfort. It's the sort of day that you know Crotalus is walking through his land.
The desert god roams the cactus fields, plucking needles from the plants. With a dagger made of sunlight, he harvests the longest, thorniest branches of the desert. He reaches under sun baked boulders to pull rattlesnakes and scorpions from their den. He plucks the hair from a sleeping coyote's tail, gathers a hat full of sand, and harvests the black widow's web. He's collecting fragments of the desert, but why?
Rulundra is hanging out in his makeshift casino in the desert.
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.
*Howdy y'all. I have a dance later tonight so I'm pleased as punch.*
It is an especially hot day in Crotalus's desert. The heat wiggles the horizons and bakes the stones. The sands sizzle and all the waste critters seek shade touched nooks for comfort. It's the sort of day that you know Crotalus is walking through his land.
The desert god roams the cactus fields, plucking needles from the plants. With a dagger made of sunlight, he harvests the longest, thorniest branches of the desert. He reaches under sun baked boulders to pull rattlesnakes and scorpions from their den. He plucks the hair from a sleeping coyote's tail, gathers a hat full of sand, and harvests the black widow's web. He's collecting fragments of the desert, but why?
*Heya, Dark! Good to hear it!*
*I probably won't be around for long today. How've you been Baalz?*
*I've been good. My brother is sharing his pizza with me, and he just told me he thinks my characters are cool, which makes me happy.*
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.
*Howdy y'all. I have a dance later tonight so I'm pleased as punch.*
It is an especially hot day in Crotalus's desert. The heat wiggles the horizons and bakes the stones. The sands sizzle and all the waste critters seek shade touched nooks for comfort. It's the sort of day that you know Crotalus is walking through his land.
The desert god roams the cactus fields, plucking needles from the plants. With a dagger made of sunlight, he harvests the longest, thorniest branches of the desert. He reaches under sun baked boulders to pull rattlesnakes and scorpions from their den. He plucks the hair from a sleeping coyote's tail, gathers a hat full of sand, and harvests the black widow's web. He's collecting fragments of the desert, but why?
a dust storm kicks up "what are you doing, freind?"
"Harvesting my desert. I've need for the materials." He says as he collects a tumbleweed.
"for what?"
"Due to recent events, I've realized I need a true artifact. I've been too content to mind my own business but I know now that I need to be armed so I can continue to go about my own affairs unharmed. Most folks here ain't as polite as I'd like." He reaches into a nest of fire ants and the colony swarms up his skeletal arm into his poncho.
His eyes shine even brighter, the light nearly blinding. "I wasn't talking about the Altered." He raises the ludicrously oversized cleaver over his head. "You've got good in you, deep down. I'm glad you realize what has to happen."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
“Unfortunately I can’t die without a fight.” He reaches for his revolver, but remembers that it was taken by the snow angel. He hold out a hand and a bright blue magic sigil appears above them “I’m sorry about this one. Good luck.” A pillar of light blasts down on them. 3,000 power points. 104
*Completely non lethal btw. Although it does dust the landscape to an absolute wasteland with magical power.*
The Great One's stance breaks slightly, weakening his blow. But it's abundantly clear before the cleaver even strikes: this isn't meant to be a fight. It's meant to be a murder.
10,000 power points. 10353
The ground shatters, creating a ravine where the blade struck. Altered and debris go flying all over the wastes.
(if the roll doesn't work, take the average:10350)
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Howdy y'all. I have a dance later tonight so I'm pleased as punch.*
It is an especially hot day in Crotalus's desert. The heat wiggles the horizons and bakes the stones. The sands sizzle and all the waste critters seek shade touched nooks for comfort. It's the sort of day that you know Crotalus is walking through his land.
The desert god roams the cactus fields, plucking needles from the plants. With a dagger made of sunlight, he harvests the longest, thorniest branches of the desert. He reaches under sun baked boulders to pull rattlesnakes and scorpions from their den. He plucks the hair from a sleeping coyote's tail, gathers a hat full of sand, and harvests the black widow's web. He's collecting fragments of the desert, but why?
*Szeru is not going to be happy about that.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Heya, Dark! Good to hear it!*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The blade sticks deep into his shoulder with a violent explosion of force. He shouts “I said kill me! Try harder!” He takes the power he gave from the universal will, proving this will be his final fight. Hundreds of blue digits appear around Szerucharz and all blast heavy beams at the same time with unrelenting intensity, he says softly right before they blast “Deus Ex Machina”. 20,000 power points. 671
*How did he do 10,000? Just curious, he’s destined to die anyway so dying to someone more powerful than him seems only fair.*
a dust storm kicks up "what are you doing, freind?"
hi
mourn the flumph. enter the galaxy, join the planetscape! yep. do you like ravenloft?
new thread coming eventually.
bye
*I probably won't be around for long today. How've you been Baalz?*
*Well every mortal around does survive the blast. It is meant to cause damage but not kill anyone.*
"Harvesting my desert. I've need for the materials." He says as he collects a tumbleweed.
"for what?"
hi
mourn the flumph. enter the galaxy, join the planetscape! yep. do you like ravenloft?
new thread coming eventually.
bye
A colossus with an equally gargantuan swordspear is walking through the desert, the mane of his armor grazing the ground, each step making a groove in the ground as he walks. The desert shakes with every steps he takes, his armor rumbling as he moves. A giant storm follows the man, lightning striking his body as he moves.
The enormous being staggers back, taking a knee. Then he begins to laugh as he pushes himself back to his feet. "Have a little faith, morsel. I wouldn't suffer a traitor like you to live a moment more."
90,000 power points. 12222
He reaches into the sky, piercing the cosmos. He rips something out of a hole in the sky, and a torrent of caustic, rotting red liquid roars down from the heavens. "You are the type to beat and scream at their child with the excuse of 'making them stronger.'"
He hurls the fistful of meteors he grabbed toward Happy Chaos. "The type to kill themselves rather than face the consequences of their actions."
While the moon-sized projectiles block vision, he lunges with his fork, attempting to impale Happy and pin him to the earth. "But you don't even have the strength or consideration for that, eh? You decided you'd make someone else suffer for your own weakness again instead of dealing with the real problem."
On a successful pin, he drags his long tongue along Happy's chest. "You aren't even worth skinning, let alone eating."
(Average is 405000)
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Rulundra is hanging out in his makeshift casino in the desert.
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's not actually new. He's been gaining points in the background this whole time. I lost track, so I just wrote down a big number after a while.*
*But he's going to be seriously winded after this fight anyway.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*I've been good. My brother is sharing his pizza with me, and he just told me he thinks my characters are cool, which makes me happy.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Due to recent events, I've realized I need a true artifact. I've been too content to mind my own business but I know now that I need to be armed so I can continue to go about my own affairs unharmed. Most folks here ain't as polite as I'd like." He reaches into a nest of fire ants and the colony swarms up his skeletal arm into his poncho.