The jaguar stood at the door of the temple. The smell of blood from within assailed his keen senses. He placed one paw, and then another, over the threshold. The priest walked to the door, as the sun’s light faded, and greeted the warrior Tepiltzin.
The party had driven the beasts to the edge of the cliffs, the kill was swift. Tlilpotonqui smiled broad and warm. It had been a fine day. His smile faded as he spied the crescent Moon already hanging delicately in the sky. The west was fading to pinks and golds. In his excitement, he had forgotten the time. He fell back, letting the party get well ahead, and turned towards the cliffs. As the last rays of the Sun faded he dove towards the rocky waters below…
Darome Rikael. Not a name of fear, but rather one of pity.
Legendary hero, founder of the Bukdek Empire, fearless warrior and warlord, amoral barbarian, and vicious bandit.
Seldom will you see such a distinguished veteran: A man of action, who always seems to have what a soldier needs!
‘That’s a nice tunic you’ve got there, I think I’ll take it…’
Marv, the Brigand
A half-breed son of the Volgotoi, Vorodon seeks to find his place in a world that rejects his kind.
This is a codex to hold together all relevant submissions and articles for the Roleplay on the forums known as “Back in the Day” - GM’d by Murometz.
Shaft of heavens, burning bright. Gave us light amidst the night. Showed the means to reach our height. bestowed on us, Axtrami’s might.
There is a tournament and now the town is flooded with Knights. OR there is a huge group of nights the characters are interacting with. Now you have to fill out those personalities. Here is 30 of them.
The 30: The thirty miscellaneous people who are part of some group. These are drop and play personalities for a given group.
The champion of the Goddess of War!
Half robot, half vampire
Doomed by the Shadow…
My Queen should be pleased that Aurixia cannot grant me an heir, for if my dragon could give me a child I would have no use for the woman or her dubious charms…
Attributed to King Thyr, from the Book of the Black Rose
A legendary warrior of Ironspirit, and patron hero of the desperate stand.
My Sword is yours, milord…
It’s not a weapon that kills people, it are the poeple who do so…
If only the one wording such comment knew better!
Clad in black armor, perched atop a black destrier, Ourange is the image of the mercenary-lord…
Magic has brought us to this point of self-destruction,” the Captain said. “It’s the dichotomy of our curiosity and greed, which are ingrained—greed, because we had to survive because we were always hungry, so we had to gather things, and curiosity, which brought us out of the trees
Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat.
Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the “Ash-Wind” comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.