He had done it a hundred times, taken eyes. It was so easy by now, he rarely used a spoon or knife, but, with his own fingers, would pilfer those beautiful orbs from the skulls of the deceased...
The Master of Starlight, Player of Games; This Quizzical Fey knows Everyone's Names.
The Crystal Scholar is a feminine Quasi-Soul with a passion for knowledge.
Blonde is one cool dude.
"I pick your fleas, you pick mine. Well, that would be if either of us had fleas. Haha, right?"
"Attention, Flesh-beings! The time is now Sun-High-point-five, towards dark, 180 Units Past. Curfew in 30 Units. You are welcome."
Your Ultimate Source for all your Ooze Problems!
"One for you," He mumbled, pouring some rum onto his boots, "And a few gulps for me, and we’re off."
He took a large gulp from the bottle, put his boots on, and was out the door in a flash.
Hazenbrazen & Gribaldy: Two Necromancers taking over the world one corpse at a time.
Brine S’Vick is the Shark Lord, a giant man amongst the ocean curent.
Soft, squeezable, and potentially deadly. Mallow is to be cuddled and feared!
"Did you hear that? He speaks to those who would listen. Simply adjust your hearing frequency and you will hear his voice." - Audicus, Disciple of the Sound Mind and Body.
Patrick Greenbottle was once a normal halfling with a love of potions. Now he has been transformed into something much more.
An quirky Gnome with little patience and much skill with a flame.
These magical boots empower the wearer with several abilities at once. Wondrous leaping, water-walking, and even flying! Yet the boots possess an insidious curse upon them as well. A deep and almost unfathomable (by others) feeling of listlessness, boredom, and even apathy affects the boots' wearer at all times whenever they are donned. Magic will not dispel the effects.
And so while the wearer of the boots can perform great feats of action during combat or at other opportune times and key moments, they'll never really want to do so, complaining "Meh, what's the point of it all anyway?" or "I would fly up and save us all guys, but sigh, maybe uhm, soonish, mkay? Bit bored by this whole burning tower at the moment."
Naturally the boots wearer's fellow PCs will grow quickly frustrated with this arrangement. There have been numerous occasions when one angry PC literally tears off the boots from his companion's feet in anger, and dons them in turn, only to immediately suffer from the same effects.
The solution lies in constantly "motivating" the boots' wearer with successful rolls, involving threats, flattery, fiery speeches, or even bribery.