*Ganondorf, this looks a mite bit neato mosquito*

*I'm preparing a delicious character as we speak*

Quote from Little_Red_Hunting_Hood >>

Quote from The_DragonTamer >>

Quote from Little_Red_Hunting_Hood >>

*Link!*

On the edge of the oasis’ waters sits a youth of indeterminate age, wearing a white silk toga detailed with patterns and flourishes of gold. His hair falls down around his head in rich, dark brown curls. Wearing golden bracelets and anklets on each limb, as well as a similar gold necklace, his form almost shimmers in the sunlight. The upper half of his face is covered by a white veil, but a smile full of perfect teeth is visible. His skin is dark and tanned, with not a single blemish, scar, or imperfection.

He’s feeding a flock of birds breadcrumbs.

The drow woman walks up. "Hey, do you have any idea what this place is?"

 He lazily looks up. “What was it called again?… oh, yeah, the Siren’s oasis, lovely place.”

He turns around, dispersing the nearby flock of birds, and reaching down and touching the edge of the water. Golden flecks of light dance beneath the surface around his hand, illuminating the waters below.

"Where in the world is the 'Siren's Oasis', then?" She seems irritated by his response somehow.

Quote from The_DragonTamer >>

Quote from Little_Red_Hunting_Hood >>

Quote from The_DragonTamer >>

Quote from Little_Red_Hunting_Hood >>

*Link!*

On the edge of the oasis’ waters sits a youth of indeterminate age, wearing a white silk toga detailed with patterns and flourishes of gold. His hair falls down around his head in rich, dark brown curls. Wearing golden bracelets and anklets on each limb, as well as a similar gold necklace, his form almost shimmers in the sunlight. The upper half of his face is covered by a white veil, but a smile full of perfect teeth is visible. His skin is dark and tanned, with not a single blemish, scar, or imperfection.

He’s feeding a flock of birds breadcrumbs.

The drow woman walks up. "Hey, do you have any idea what this place is?"

 He lazily looks up. “What was it called again?… oh, yeah, the Siren’s oasis, lovely place.”

He turns around, dispersing the nearby flock of birds, and reaching down and touching the edge of the water. Golden flecks of light dance beneath the surface around his hand, illuminating the waters below.

"Where in the world is the 'Siren's Oasis', then?" She seems irritated by his response somehow.

 “Mm. Dunno. There’s a portal to the plane of water down there, but I don’t have a map on me. Got here through a fey crossing.” He grins. “You alright?”

he gets a bit closer to the water, stepping in.

Quote from Little_Red_Hunting_Hood >>

Quote from The_DragonTamer >>

Quote from Little_Red_Hunting_Hood >>

Quote from The_DragonTamer >>

Quote from Little_Red_Hunting_Hood >>

*Link!*

On the edge of the oasis’ waters sits a youth of indeterminate age, wearing a white silk toga detailed with patterns and flourishes of gold. His hair falls down around his head in rich, dark brown curls. Wearing golden bracelets and anklets on each limb, as well as a similar gold necklace, his form almost shimmers in the sunlight. The upper half of his face is covered by a white veil, but a smile full of perfect teeth is visible. His skin is dark and tanned, with not a single blemish, scar, or imperfection.

He’s feeding a flock of birds breadcrumbs.

The drow woman walks up. "Hey, do you have any idea what this place is?"

 He lazily looks up. “What was it called again?… oh, yeah, the Siren’s oasis, lovely place.”

He turns around, dispersing the nearby flock of birds, and reaching down and touching the edge of the water. Golden flecks of light dance beneath the surface around his hand, illuminating the waters below.

"Where in the world is the 'Siren's Oasis', then?" She seems irritated by his response somehow.

 “Mm. Dunno. There’s a portal to the plane of water down there, but I don’t have a map on me. Got here through a fey crossing.” He grins. “You alright?”

he gets a bit closer to the water, stepping in.

"No, I'm not alright. I'm supposed to be stealing a precious scroll from a dragon turtle's lair! That [GP]ing teleportation spell sent me to the wrong place!"

*trying to decide between committing to this or just watching in silence.*

*Sidon my king*

Zaahir Is wandering the bazzar, trying to find a place big enough to set up shop

Quote from Capatin_Crunch >>

Zaahir Is wandering the bazzar, trying to find a place big enough to set up shop

 

 *Is he possibly an airbender?*

*I'm thinking about how to bring in a hungry ghost from the icy mountains.*

*I probably shouldn't worry too much about the logistics.*

Quote from StereotypicalDungeonMaster >>

Quote from Capatin_Crunch >>

Zaahir Is wandering the bazzar, trying to find a place big enough to set up shop

 

 *Is he possibly an airbender?*

 *nope. desert cyclopes*

*Link*

*This character is based on many things, but think of Gabriel from Ultrakill.*

A large paladin, dressed head to toe in thick red gilded plate armor, steps out of the water as if he had emerged from the trenches of the very bottom of the waters. He picks up the hem of his water-logged cloak and hums a low note, the cloth instantly becoming dry as radiant energy dances around on motes. His helm covers his whole face like a mask, a cross on the front delicately carved into the gold metal. His hooded head is covered from the beating sun, the red fabric stitched with beautiful depictions of angels falling to hell. He strides across the ground, heavy metal-clad feet moving quickly despite his size. 

Someone with an oversized backpack, baggy pants, medium curled hair, a small hat, a scarf, goggles, a flowing shirt, a belt with pouches, and several other pouches is wandering around the desert, looking around with wide eyes.

Quote from tarasque2897 >>

Someone with an oversized backpack, baggy pants, medium curled hair, a small hat, a scarf, goggles, a flowing shirt, a belt with pouches, and several other pouches is wandering around the desert, looking around with wide eyes.

 The paladin watches before walking over. They raise their hands, signing in Common Sign Language, to them. 

'Hello. Far from ministry. Where is here?'

Quote from Bananer28046 >>

Stumbling into the oasis is a small person, a few feet tall, with sharp ears and bright blue eyes. Their skin has hints of blue flecks, and their veins, which are incredibly common, are a deep storm blue. Their hair is blonde and tied into a short ponytail, wavy and filled with curls, and their figure is lean and soft, their face feminine despite clearly passing as nonbinary. They wear a white tunic and brown pants, with a fancy blue vest covered in golden buttons over the tunic. They look incredibly thirsty, and the second they enter the oasis, they rush over to the pools of water surrounding it and start to gulp up water incredibly fast. They seem deep in thought as they lie on the ground, probably tired, and you notice blue stains all over their clothes and a cut on their forehead dripping with blue blood. 

Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

*Link*

 

*This character is based on many things, but think of Gabriel from Ultrakill.*

A large paladin, dressed head to toe in thick red gilded plate armor, steps out of the water as if he had emerged from the trenches of the very bottom of the waters. He picks up the hem of his water-logged cloak and hums a low note, the cloth instantly becoming dry as radiant energy dances around on motes. His helm covers his whole face like a mask, a cross on the front delicately carved into the gold metal. His hooded head is covered from the beating sun, the red fabric stitched with beautiful depictions of angels falling to hell. He strides across the ground, heavy metal-clad feet moving quickly despite his size. 

 He hears a whisper, an intimate sound wrapped in a sheath of static. Solaire, my beloved... Why do you fight my kindness? Must I wake and face you myself?

...

...I want to dance. But I can't bear to stand.

Where are you?

Quote from Baalzeboop >>

Quote from WendigoOfLore >>

*Link*

 

*This character is based on many things, but think of Gabriel from Ultrakill.*

A large paladin, dressed head to toe in thick red gilded plate armor, steps out of the water as if he had emerged from the trenches of the very bottom of the waters. He picks up the hem of his water-logged cloak and hums a low note, the cloth instantly becoming dry as radiant energy dances around on motes. His helm covers his whole face like a mask, a cross on the front delicately carved into the gold metal. His hooded head is covered from the beating sun, the red fabric stitched with beautiful depictions of angels falling to hell. He strides across the ground, heavy metal-clad feet moving quickly despite his size. 

 He hears a whisper, an intimate sound wrapped in a sheath of static. Solaire, my beloved... Why do you fight my kindness? Must I wake and face you myself?

...

...I want to dance. But I can't bear to stand.

Where are you?

 It looks around, as if searching for the voice. He hums lowly again, his mind a muffled thing of sounds of noises. He places his hand over his masked face, thinking.

'Wake. Wake. Wake.'

Quote from Bananer28046 >>

Stumbling into the oasis is a small person, a few feet tall, with sharp ears and bright blue eyes. Their skin has hints of blue flecks, and their veins, which are incredibly common, are a deep storm blue. Their hair is blonde and tied into a short ponytail, wavy and filled with curls, and their figure is lean and soft, their face feminine despite clearly passing as nonbinary. They wear a white tunic and brown pants, with a fancy blue vest covered in golden buttons over the tunic. They look incredibly thirsty, and the second they enter the oasis, they rush over to the pools of water surrounding it and start to gulp up water incredibly fast. They seem deep in thought as they lie on the ground, probably tired, and you notice blue stains all over their clothes and a cut on their forehead dripping with blue blood. 

 They hear a murmur and a heartbeat, the swirling of currents around their head as if they were underwater. A tall, burnt man, dressed as a chef but with no lips or eyelids to speak of, approaches, manifesting from the wavering air. "You are strong. Don't let anyone tell you different." He holds out a hand, the fingers blackened and skeletal.