/builders/ - Hero and Nation Builders!

I wil be updating this game, but I request that while it occurrs nobody posts in between my udpates as that would significantly make it more likely I miss a post

>>2276

>>2279

You line up your hostages in plain sight of the enemy, the fearful peasants and aristocrats that were lucky enough to escape the lust of your forces, hoping that perhaps they might cease the bombardment or seek parley for the civilians.

They respond and their answer sings, literally. A cry shouts from the war witch, in tune to the shrieks of a wall of rockets that apparates from the hills and crashes into the walls of the city once more, incinerating civilian and lizardman alike with fire and thunder as another day of barrages continues.

Clearly the fate of the civilians is already decided. As is everyone inside this town, in the eyes of the enemy.

As wave after wave of rockets ascends, your lizardmen retreat back to the trenches as the mages do what they can to shield them from both the incoming rockets and the shrapnell and fires that erupt all over the city. Your mages do what they can, but as before they can hardly hold back the sheer tide of magic and firepower. The very city burns and crumbles around them in a huge inferno, the woooden buildings turning entire blocks into furnances, and some of your forces succumb to the flame.

-1 Lizard Mages

-47 Elites

For the most part though, your lizards are experts at underground dwelling and hide beneath the city in the sewers and dug-out caves, quickly filling with the slime of cum and seed. Meanwhile, Lorenth and his generals meet in a makeshift war-room, as a great discussion occurs.

—

“The only option available to us that does not result in our immiment destruction is to pull back from the city. We cannot hold it under current conditions. We're losing men to their artillery just sitting here and we don't have sufficient force to attack them.”

“We cannot abandon the city of which we have spent so much manpower and resources already. Do you suggest we give away our first victory? Retreat with our tail between our legs?”

“We have fulfilled our original objective that is to take the city. We never planned to hold it indefinitely. We have hundreds of slaves and the loot of the city, we can leave in the dead of night and take our spoils.”

“And risk leading such a massive army to our very homeland, are you daft?”

“What other option do we have? Our men are specialized in camoflauge, we snuck into the city and we can sneak out of it. We are losing men and are going to grind us down to nothing at this rate, and we don't have enough men to fight off such an army.”

The debate goes on, as your two chief generals argue, your other officers butting in with retorts to support or denounce the other. But even as the debate continues, the Lizardmen and Lorenth still take their fill of the spoils of war.

Underneath the war table and the map of the city are breeders and humans both male and female, bound in stockades, serving as cocksleves to the officers.

>>8678

The Breeders take it as they always have and always will, spilling the endless milk from their gigantic breasts that came in spurts timed each thrust of a lizardman pumping into them.

They lie bounded in their stocks, their mouths opened with rings as you and your officers pump their face and asses with their huge members, cumming and filling their guts or jerking off white globs of cum over their faces and asses. Some of the Officers use their tail to fuck the asses of the women while their cock pump into their pussies, others do the opposite, the women feeling the tail penetrating their pussy while their ass is stretched and stuffed by huge cocks that cum and cum and make their bellies swell a bit more every time. Even their breasts were not left untouched, as the ones being fucked in their asses soaked up the cum up their intestines that magically flowed into their breasts, as officers gladly groped the weighty mammaries squeezing them with hands or tails as the women saw their own tits spurting milk for the first time, more than even cows should be able to. Semen and saliva and milk spills onto the floor, collected by mages who monitor the orgy, a side dish while matters of war are discussed.

Even the males are not neglected, many feel their ass being fucked for the first time by something that was just too big to fit yet did find its way up their bums. Their screams are drowned in their throats by a thick lizard cock and sealed with another spurt of cum that they swallow in between gasps for air. Their cocks are milked by the tails of your officers, twisting around and jerking them or squeezing their balls until they unload onto the floor, while others experience their first prostate orgasm, their cocks growing stiff from being assfucked and spilling onto the floor. At least one of them is placed behind a breeder, as a lizard fucks his ass he is pushed forward and into the pussy of a happy birthing slut, her joyous moans stifled by the welcomed cock in her mouth.

The human slaves who were brought before them were at first terrified and then demoralized and broken as their world consisted of being fucked by oversized meaty cocks no human was meant to take, but the magic cum and mages molding their bodies and making them take it, their flesh being saturated with it and their brains bombarded with unnatural pleasure and magic. As their minds were shattered, the hollow shells were filled with growing lust as their entire being was changed.

Even Lorthenth while paying attention to his generals war dicussion indulges. When all the civilians were captured, stripped, and fucked the one with the biggest member was pulled aside. Unsure whether to be afraid for his life or relieved at salvation his question was answered when mages descended upon him, prodding him with needles and magic as he was bound and only able to watch and then salivate with hornyness as his very cock and balls were being pumped with with felt like liquid fire, growth hormone filling him. It his balls felt like sacks of rice and looked like they were glowing with heat and lust, his rigid cock thumping the floor as it outgrew his own legs. His screams of fear were now replaced by groans and yells of despair, as he ached to satisfy the the monstrosity that was grafted between his legs, shouting signals of lust into his mind.

When finally brought before lorenth, his member was so large and massive Mages needed to assist him as they made a chair with handlebars and leg spreaders and rolled him underneath Lorenth, who as calm as day stood up and then placed his buttocks over the thick log of flesh. The mans eyes grew wide and he growled with demanding anticipation, watching Lorenth spread his cheeks and sit down. The moment he felt the scaly touch of his asshole on his tip, the man gripped the handlebars of his chair and with all his enhanced strength thrusted up into Lorenth's ass, yelling with glorious relief as he fucks the Godlizzard with all his being.

Lorenth enjoys the sensation of his deepest reaches and intestines being pushed upward by the new toy he sat on, as the man thrusted upward into him Lorenth wiggled and scootched down allowing him deeper.

This orgy beneath the officers, the humans being broken literally beneath the lizardmen, a display of what their ultimate goal would be, continued as did the talks of war.

>>8679

“…You know what, you're right, we don't have enough men.”

“Exactly”

“We don't have enough, but we can get more.”

“How do you propose that? We're blockaded and there's no reinforcements on the way.”

“We have several thousand slaves and civilians at our disposal, and enough Mages and Elites to convert them all into soldiers if we put our backs into it.”

There's a murmer now from your generals, as this revelation hits them. But not all are convinced.

“Even where we to bolster our forces with their numbers, this is only the better opportunity for us to escape and grow our strength. We can use them to carry more loot and supplies back home, and then prepare a proper army to fight them.”

“We HAVE a proper army. The new soldiers would be led by our elites and mages, we can strike back at them and repulse them and use this city to grow our power!”

“You expect us to fight THAT and survive? In open combat? They still outnumber us and outgun us.”

“Fighting them head on is suicide which is why we won't, we'll use our best strategies, we'll fight them at night, ambush them through tunnels. If we kill the leaders and the rest will crumble and all the more we have slaves to grow again.”

“The enemy have displayed technology and magic clearly superior to our own, I have no doubt the security of their leadership is not only a prioirty for them, but our mages can tell that their general and his witch are heavily enchanted.”

“That is why we will succeed, their leadership is vital to them. Remove it and their soldiers will falter.”

“Even if the gods are on our side and we somehow win, I do not feel that a victory here will aid us. We will have lost too many, and the prisoners will be few. Now is the time to pull back and grow stronger and the next time we fight them we will win with better odds.”

“Enough! Let us see what our Commander has to say about this. Clearly some of us in this room need it.:”

“Yes. Great leader, please, speak some sense now when we need it most.”

>>4273

Saved crit. Will be used at my discretion

– DO NOT POST —

>>7703

The Ravens fly from Castle Vayserys, sending a message of calls for aid in the face of this terrible enemy.

And to add upon this the head of the house himself Victor rides in his carriage at full pace, headed for the council. By his side Alyver stands by, idly chit-chatting, as Victor asks as much about the Council as he can.

After some days, they approach the ancient Vampire capital, deep within in the lands of house Dracon.

Castle Dracul.

Built by the first and last Shadowking himself, the mightiest fortress in all of the Shadowrealms. A gigantic structure built out of a mountain itself, and carved from the same stone. Also the most empty fortress in the shadowlands. Ancient, abandoned, and quiet, a remnant of the old Vampiric empire since that blasted crusade by King Robert, forever fragmenting the four families. No familiy, not even Dracon, ever had sufficient claim on it nor could hold it during civil war. Few had the manpower for it, and two families would be sprtretched to hold every section of it.

The carriage and escort make their way through the huge gatehouse almost the size of Vayserys court, and parks within a gigantic underground room that echo's every footstep and sound. There is a small town within the castle, or rather, an tiny section of the castle that is constantly inhabited by the so called “Guardians of Castle Dracul.” Amenities are available from Blood taverns to hotels and some shops that serve both the Council and the inhabitants. Its borders are marked only by closed doors and hallways no lit up by torch, though Vampires have no problem seeing in the dark regardless.

Arriving early, and servants having already unpacked and prepared your bed chamers and luggage, Alyver says he must go meet up with the rest of House Vlannister's envoy suggests you just head to town and relax a bit. You never know who you'll bump into, and maybe you might hear some juicy gossip.

>Free action: Do you go to town?

>Con't everyone else don't post

>>9872

Are you actually gay, or are you just gay to git gud?

The “town” such as as it is, is an immensely large hallway with various rooms converted for different needs. Your personal guards trail you glance around, looking at various signs leading to shops, and feeling somewhat conscious of being the only person on the street with a guard.

Shopkeepers in particular try to sell a great multitude of things, many of which are still being scavenged from the inner depths of the castle by explorers. Many trinkets and artifacts catch your eye, and you're sure if you decide to go shopping here you're bound to find something, whether it be junk or treasure is anyone's guess.

Guards in ancient armor and cloaks stand at attention almost everywhere, occasionally straightening up as you pass by. They where the icon of house Dracon, but not the official or modern one. It looks far older, and they all where black, where as house Dracon's colors are white.

Seeing as you're not in the mood to shop, and a bit hungry, you might as well visit the tavern and grab a bite to eat and some drink. You head inside, being greeted by a young tavern woman, who offers you a menu detailing a great number of blood and blood dishes which are prepared from stored cold barrels, or for extra cost harvested from live human or mutant employees in the backroom and kitchens. You all order your food, fresh, and priced well enough that a lord can afford it with ease (though you're not exactly a wealthy lord), and in a while you and your guards are sipping on some blood ale while your food is being cooked.

Your attention is suddenly diverted by the sound of horses neighing, and heavy iron boots hitting the ground outside. Your men grip their swords as the sound clinking of armor enters the building, as an armored figure backed up by several other equally iron clothed guards walks to you. Considering how your men aren't nearly as armed or armored, you're debating whether to run or call for help when they stop before you.

“So, you're the head of House Vayserys.”

A deep booming voice comes from within the helm of the knight standing before you, slightly taller than yourself.

“Don't draw your sword, I'm not here to harm you.

I came to take your measure.”

That's when you notice his armor. That's the crest of House Dracon. The real one!

>con't

>>9913

You're still unsure whether you should be running or talking, and before you can decide the knight speaks. The Knight just continues to look at you, evidently gauging you.

“I am the heir of Vladislaus VII, Lord of House Dracon, and heir to the house of Dracon. I came here to make sure I got to you first before those other buffoons. I'm supposed to believe you're the one who killed that fat fool of your previous sire. If that's true, I would commend you for having the balls to do what should have been done ages ago. The old man got tied up with those Vlannister snakes who drained him dry. But from what I hear, you're just following in his footsteps. So far, I am not impressed.”

The Knight steps closer, unafraid of your guards or you.

“Listen here. I don't care what you and your entire house does. As long as you keep the peace in the realms, we will have no problems. Go ahead and damn yourself to hell with debt for all I care. I'd only wish you had a better choice of allies.

House Dracon are the true descendants of the line of Dracul, we have fought for the unity and prosperity of the vampiric realm for over 1000 years. Time and again when great danger threatens the land it is our house who are called to fight. When the Empire sent its next crusade since the cursed King Robert, we fought them off. When the Brood invaded for the first time, we purged it. When the Dragon Lords tried to conquer us we killed them.

When my father grew too old to fight I took up his sword.

I wear my battle scars with pride. They remind me of what I fight for. To bring the Vampires out of the shadows and into the moonlight. I'll fight for a time when we stop bickering and squabbling in fear of greater powers in our own ruins, and band together as one people, the true rulers of the Shadow-lands, as we were under the Shadow king. I will not let anyone get in the way of that.

Even you.”

The figure reaches around the neck, unclasping several bolts and locks, and pulls away a helmet. Out of the helm flows long, pale white hair, and a gloved hand parts the mane to reveal a face.

Staring at you now is one deep red eye, the other hidden behind a decorated eyepatch, on a face with two great gashes and scars which run up and down from forehead to chin. Some of the ear has been chipped off, as is a tiny piece of nose.

It's the face of a woman! Her toned face stares back at you with her one good eye, her face in an expression of determination. She points to herself, and speaks to you in a voice no longer muffled and deep beneath its helm, and only that much more feminine, but still bearing the sound of a voice made hoarse by battle commands and shouting.

“Remember this face, this is the face you will be speaking to on the Council. Don't forget it.”

>If you want to respond, feel free to do so

>Con't

>>9914

Sometime later, Victor is unsure when, but he finds himself. . .drawn towards the old Church in town. As though a force stronger than wonder and more potent than curiosity compels him to visit, as he brings his guards with him into the doors.

There beneath the bloody glow of moonlight shining through crimson stained glass, atop the bloodied steps leading up to an altar, an elegant form stands, cloaked and facing against you, showing only what promises to be a buxom and curvacious body beneath, and long dark hair the color of ravens streaming from behind her head. Her arms are prostrated to the sky, a knife in one hand, and a golden goblet in another. Strange and mysterious chants emanate through the room in a language you do not understand.

Looking past her you see the altar, where lies a human male naked in form arms and legs spread, but not bound. He lies there of his own volition, almost as if a smile on his face, staring into the bloody sky as she finishes her chanting, and in single graceful motion almost faster than even your own vampiric eyes can see, the knife plunges down.

The human does not even flinch as blood spurts in an almost impossible manner into the air. Impossible indeed, as you can see the red streams fly through the air as if being written by pen on invisible paper, in letters and symbols, before streaming into the hidden face of the figure, flying toward her. Your eyes continue to amaze you as you see the human not shrivel as you surely believed he would from such blood pouring from him, but you swear you see his very form and body weep into red liquid, until his entire form as become blood that flies through the air and disappearing into the robed woman. Until at last the altar lies emptied, and completely devoid of blood, dry as if nothing had ever occurred.

Save for her Goblet, which some of the blood has flowed into. She raises the cup into the sky, uttering a final chant, before pouring it onto the altar, as it spills over and onto the steps.

Slowly, the robed woman turns around to face you and reveals herself. From behind, the size of her hips and rear foretold of a fine body, but this was beyond anything even you could have imagined. She looks every bit what you would imagine when you think of the word 'divine beauty'. The curves of her lower body flowed upward to her chests which held ample breasts that extend from her chest, perfect in shape and form as though they were the fruit of the gods. Her robes which only so barely covered herself reveals the soft pale skin beneath. Your eyes linger on her supple chest as they trail past smooth curves and contours of neck and chin and finally her face.

If there was ever the face of a woman that approached the word “perfect” it would be hers. Not a trace of blemish nor scar was upon her exquisitely defined face. Luscious lips of a dark blood red shade that blended in beautifully between curved cheeks, and two eyes of a deep crimson glow gazing back at you between fluttering eyelashes.

And all the more you look at her, the more you can't but help want to do. . .something, anything to her. To reach for her, touch her, grab her, hold that incredible body of hers with yours, that form that so taunts your every flesh and brings it to life, reminding you almost of your human days.

And then her eyes meet yours as you stare into the fire in her pupils, and your blood runs hot.

She begins to step down the stares, her hips swaying with each gentle, graceful step that seems as though she floats rather than walks. Her gorgeous face breaks out in grin like that of a hungry goddess, and you see her fangs are particularly sharp and having an almost crystalline shine to them.

“Darling! I am /so/ happy to see you! The blood gods foretold you would arrive”

She bows before you and pulls her robes in a curtsy.

“I am Cassandra the Sitxh, Lord and Lady of House Carmile, and chief priestess of the Church of Darkness and Blood. It is such a pleasure to finally meet you dear. I've heard much about you. Taking your place as rightful leader of your house, and oh, how awful it must be, to find out that the vile Brood is upon you! I received your distress letter of course."

>con't

>>10023

"Have no fear but faith darling, the gods send us these trials and tribulations to test us. Perhaps coupled with a few errs in our judgment, such as not devoting them proper tribute . .”

You're almost certain that was referring to the unfinished temple.

“The Brood is vile, it attacks our bodies and our being, corrupts it for its own purpose. The body is weak and fallible, easy to fall victim and prey.

But it is the soul of the Vampire that gives him strength. His soul which he derives all his powers from. Our bodies need no food, nor air, nor the necessities of the living, and it is not our bodies that hunger for blood, else you would feel it in your stomach as the living do. It is the soul that desires blood, for blood is the currency of the soul.

Blood is the currency of the soul. Faith makes the strength of the soul strong. Guidance by the gods renders the soul invincible. These are the paths to true power.”

During her conversation, or more aptly monologue, you watch as she speaks with great vigor and determination, the way she moves her hands as she speaks and her body language showing off a feeling of absolute conviction in a righteous cause. It's as though she were speaking to a great crowd in the church. You almost feel emboldened by hearing it.

Her eyes return back to you the zealous fire in them cools to a remembered attention she is supposed to give to you.

“Tommorrow on the council, we are to meet again as the heads of our families. Right now, I'd like to meet you as myself and you as yourself. To be true to each other.

I tell you this truth. We are not brutish fighters like the Dracon, nor moneylenders and leeches like the Vlannisters, nor abominable like Bloodwing. House Carmille is blessed of the gods, our magical power is unmatched. In a gesture of my finger tips I can do more than any of their armies could even hope to imagine.

The Brood will be vanquished by the true power of vampires, magic, as it was in the old days. I have seen it.

I am a servant of the gods, and will help a fellow follower of them and their ways. Remember this, tomorrow, when see each other again darling.”

>Con't

>Found this in muh notes

>>4275

Ruikus display of his mastery over the magical arts was spectacular in it's sheer mediocrity.

Despite all the resources provided to him from cadavers of humans and small animals, to samples of the elements, even asking just to make one little flash, he failed to summon a single ounce of magic.

His interview was cut short, and he was quite quickly pushed out of the room to go with the “other's of group D”.

Group D turned out to be the group of those whose magic potential had not shown or had very little aptitude for the magical arts or had trouble “fitting in”, although their more common name by the other actual students was the “Misfits”.

Whether by coincidence Ruikus at least found some of those who he had already met. Illyana was there, and unsurprisingly she too had great difficulties summoning any necromantic powers at will. Johnathan was there too, and while Pyromancy is supposed to be one of the most easiest of arts to learn, where even basic novices tend to summon torches from their hand, all he could do was snap his fingers and have a candle light. And it seemed whenever he did that he would be so engrossed in the tiny little flame, he'd be too distracted to try anything else.

If anyone represented the misfits more accurately, it was the same robed girl with the nice voice. You don't know what happened to her, only that when interviewed she refused to take off her robes or perform any magic at all, and this sent her here.

The four of you gather as you await what is supposed to be the start of your school year, and whereas others have already been selected for certain classes, none of you have been chosen for. . .anything. You'll have to make an effort to find teachers willing to take you as apprentices, or studying up the magical arts in libraries and training grounds yourselves.

>con't don't post

>>4278

>>4277

I've got good news and bad news.

The good news is, the decoy worked like a charm. As one of them started raping the poor innocent Drow of his senses and sanity.

The bad news is about that escape on ship. Turns out, they beat you to it.

You managed to find a spot to hide as you watch the deranged monstrous lizards unleash themselves on your crew desperately trying to fight back. The crew attempt to fire the cannons, only for the giant turtle creature to deflect the shots, while the dragon rushes forward and unleashes a spray of fire that melts your cannons. The dragon charges forward, grasping one of your female pirates and impaling her on himself even as he flies about in the air you can hear her screams. The he rest of the crew desperately try their best not to be raped, mounting a defense against the ever encroaching turtle beast while the giant enhanced Lizard-woman unceremoniously walks up to your ship and plugs up the hole to your quarters, spraying a terrified and still tied up lucene with her spew.

Looking behind he see's the mages trying to recover in various states of semi-consciousness, slipping on the wet and soaked floor. This whole place is a mess.

Better do something Captain before your own ship is taken from you.

>>4279

As far as Olivia can tell, she can't be sure the Witch escaped at all. There is nought but the book of her which remains.

But the witch did remind her of something. The witch mentioned using her voice to cast a spell on the plants.

If the plants could be bewtiched by that witch. . .perhaps a Siren might sooth to them.

But therein lies the problem, with the vine down her throat, feeding air in and out of her own lungs, she couldn't so much as pipe a tune. All she could do was sit and squirm as every now and then the vines would come to live and writhe inside her, thrusting in and out and bringing her to orgasm while filling her with seed. During those times, all she could do was squeeze in a few whimpers and moans when the tentacle in her throat spurted down her gullet, releasing a stick substance that would sit there until she swallowed. It didn't seem to be able to fill her lungs with air while she swallowed, and when that happened, and had to wait for her to swallow it all gulp by gulp, and there would be a few fearful moments where it felt like she couldn't inhale a breath, only exhale. All she could do was endure as the vines extracted waste out of her body, pulling it from her quivering sphincter or that infernal tiny tendril up her pisshole which danced in her bladder.

For many hours, maybe even a few days in total darkness, she searched and struggled for a solution. Every night, she would try to lull herself to sleep thinking of the lullabies sung to her by her mother. And whenever the tentacles came down her throat, and she swallowed she tried to shut out the sensation, she hummed the tune to calm her.

And the tendril responded by going slack! For a few moments Olivia felt like it actually retreated!

That was when inspiration hit her. If she could hum, even for a few moments when the tendril came down her throat, she could sing to it.

So she waited, until the tentacle would “feed” her again. This time when she felt it swell and start to unload in her mouth, she hummed in her throat, the vibrations sending the tendril into a frenzy as it unloaded spurt after spurt of thick rich spew in her mouth.

And while she swallowed she focused on humming with all her effort, willing the tendril to grow weary and sleepy. The tendril responded to the sensation of her humming by releasing more cum, but this worked to her advantage, the more of it she had the more time she had to sing. Swallow and hum and swallow and hum. When it seemed like she would run out of opportunity at last it happened, the tendril went slack. For good.

Olivia quickly tore it from her throat which felt incredulously sore as she coughed and spat. But her voice was free now.

And she had better hurry the fuck up with another song because it looks like the tentacle is stirring again.

>>4290

>>4291

Senzar Kuro approaches the outpost, to deliver his message as the armored incubus strides toward it, metal boots stomping the earth as he walked.

He was about to shout to the outpost when a force punched his helmet sending him hurtling onto the ground, his entire helmet ringing. There was a cracking noise followed by what seemed like sledgehammers smashing onto his armor. It didn't penetrate, but the blows continued to come. In anger Senzar crawled up and away from this, looking to see flashes and explosions coming from the town. Abruptly there was an even louder burst and the tree next to him was shredded into splinters.

In anger he called forth his army which immediately began to charge. Even as they did, he saw they were being cut down by more of the towns weaponry, but it was clear the numbers he brought up would win the day.

The Goblins swarmed up the walls even as more of them fell, to engage in melee with what was now confirmed to be rat people. From the watch tower above, some kind of rapid fire weapon mowed down huge swaths of his goblins, but bit by bit they made their way into the small settlement.

Until at last the final defenders were captured in the last bastion, and the outpost taken!

>Gained: [Small Skaven Outpost] [Skaven Firearms: Some] [15 Skaven Males] [11 Skaven Females]

>Lost: [350 Gretchin Rabble] [200 Goblin Rabble]

—

In other news, the Spiderling's eggs have hatched! Their spawn sired through you crawl for the first time.

Maybe you should feed them? The spiders suggest some gretchin rabble and some corpses would do well.

+[1000 infant spiderlings]

>>4293

1-2. Khaza contemplates on the art of Tantric Medition, uniting with another in body and soul, and truly growing closer to your beloved god. However, she is fraught with failure and frustration.

You know the concept, and in fact, it's not at all hard to do.

+[Tantric Meditation]

But despite your best intentions, practicing it with another doesn't seem to work.

And so you pray, seeking Karametra for guidance.

"My child, the thing you try to do is a good one and I shall reward you for it.

But this is not something you are able to do right now. Not for lack of ability, but lack of the most important thing: love.

You must unite not only in body but in spirit. Not just in flesh but in soul.

Many of your followers love you, for you have brought them my peace and my love, and so in turn they love me.

But you must find someone that truly loves you for who you are, not a priestess, or a prophet, or a leader.

You must find someone who will love the tiefling named Khaza Marai. And when you do, and unite with that person, you will find my true power.

It will not be easy, and I cannot do this for you, but I can give you the opportunity."

And so your god whispers where you might find this one to love you. And you feel in your heart several directions.

There is a lost soul in the Darklands, that infernal place, living a life bereft of care, joy, trust, and most importantly, love. If you find the bravery in your heart, go to them, and bring them peace.

In the Shadowlands far away, there lies another soul, one who lives in a world fraught with turmoil and troubles, who is sorely in need of someone to love him not for his power, his wealth, or title but for who he is as well.

But then, it is also possible, that you have your eyes set on someone. If that is so, go to them, but now I am the one who asks you who that person may be my child. And I may help you.

The choice is yours my child. Perhaps you find it in your soul to unite the woodland realm from here, or perhaps you find it in yourself to go out and spread the word to the world. It is a big world, with many people bereft of love.

I will say this, you will not regret making friends in many places.

Bonus: Diamond in the Rough

All the running, hiding, sneaking and other physical activity combined with choice food thefts has given you a healthy and toned body aged with a young woman's grace. You are very physically fit and skilled in sneaking!

Your body is also the kind of thing quite a lot of people would find pretty, sexy, or pretty sexy, especially for slavers. Clearly by your name, and your features and pale skin tone even when tanned, you are not a native born here Luckily, you hide it behind a cowl or a rag, but if anyone finds out. . .

The Sultanate of Tzeen, without a doubt one of the oldest kingdoms in the world, many here say, the oldest. “The cradle of mankind was in an oasis” they say, and every day the endless dunes of the vast desert reveal more ancient ruins and wonders than history can ever truly remember, only to hide them away by dusk.

A colossal graveyard of ancient empires, the more skeptical say. Surrounded to the west by the hordes of hell, east the Amezun jungles and to the north by the other Empires of man, on paper one may wonder why they have not been so easily conquered.

It is the desert that is both their protector and their jailer, keeping the invader away, but always striving to limit their potential for greatness. In the day, the sun scorches the land with heat that the winds stir up in winds that carry the sands like shards of baked glass, and at night from the south the chilled winds of the frozen ends of the earth bathe all flesh in a deathly cold. The only relief is found in the oasis, wells of not only water, but magic.

There is magic in the Sultanate, ancient and mysterious, spells whisper in the wind and echoes of the conversations of spirits. In the oasis, where there is life, man is able to channel these magics. Four main elements of magic rule the Sultanate: Water, Sand, Glass, and Fire. Some of the greatest sorcerors hail from these ancient lands, and some of the greatest sorcerors have died and been forgotten among the dust. But the true power of the Sultanate's magic lies in their greatest magical asset.

The Djinn. Spirits and demons of hell itself, captured and bound by contracts of strong to their masters. Broken and obedient, they are made to serve man until their contract is up.

But even the greatest of magics could not truly hold such demons bound forever. The Tzeen attribute their ability to bend demons to their will to there god, Tash, the sun god, the avian god, who watches and rules over all things. Vast temples and sacrifice chambers are erected in Tash's name, and in Tash's name the Sultanate prevails over all. Agains the great Satan in the west, the infidels in the north, and the barbarians to the east,

Tash protects.

Truth be told, all of this is somewhat irrelevant to you, if you know much of it at all. You're just a thief, a street rat scuttering about the corners and alleys of the city of Tzeen, the capital of the Sultanate, built upon it's greatest Oasis. You have never seen more than glimpses of the gold gilded towers and spires that rise to the heights of this city, but you have had your fair share of spoils and treasures, if they sadly where not snatched away from you. Now once again, the slate and your horde have been wiped clean, and you find yourself penniless and in desperate need of your next meal

>>16466

>>4537

link

>>4298

>>4292

Alixia's naked form is surrounded by demons, each surround her. However, rather than fight them, she stands perfectly still. Her mistress is arming her to fight.

They approach with items Alixia has nought seen in hundreds of lifetimes. Her armor.

Her once blessed armor gifted by the Kings smithy's themselves. But no longer the shinig symbols of light, they are now twsited and black.

The breast plate locks around her breasts, sharp indents within giving a hint of both pain and pleasure to each breath. Demons spread her legs, the metal pants an inverse codepiece which enters her loin and rear, metal bits clinging and holding her most vulnerable parts, toying with her body and flesh with even the smallest movement bringing some part to be pinched or tickled or vibrated. Finally the helmet, her once proud headpiece now in the form of a demon's skull. As she watches the demon bring it, she see's within an a hollow phallus. Her jaws are pried open, the metal gag sliding into her mouth to the back of her throat, her tongue tasting the bitter metal. Every breath, every voice, every yell is twisted in the gag to sound like a demons dark voice.

Her shield now sports a demons face, and her spear is tipped in barbs no matter which part of the shaft she grabs.

When all is put in place, something happens in her armor. Dark lines of infernal flame appear and seem to link the pieces together, locking them in place, simultaneous to this her sensitive parts feel a slight vibrating that brings a constant obscene pleasure. It is comforting as it is humiliating, but it dulls the other pains. A dark glow appears from an odd gem in the center of her breastplate.

Alixia is once again an armored Knight, now serving a much darker master. Her misstress speaks to her from a balcony on high.

“Remember girl, win this and you might just get to see your friends again.

Lose. . .well, you'll get to see some other surprises. I have a little fun laboratory just for you!”

>Gain:

[Corrupted Armor]

[Corrupted Shield]

[Corrupted Spear]

[Strange Corrupted Glowy thing in the Chest plate]

—

Rikard and Alexander approach the castle, wondering how exactly they're going to breech the big wooden door. Alexander prepares some explosive, when the issue resolves itself.The massive wooden drawbridge lowers, as the castle opens itself to them.

Out walks a demonic Knight, a shield and spear in hand, a sword to his side. Dark fire surrounds the Knights body, as it breathes and heaves and growls at you.

Alexander grins.

“Just one for the welcoming party huh?” He says, drawing his rifle and pulling out a strange bullet. It's an adamant round, inscribed by priests and mages with the holy words of light. He loads the bullet into his rifle and aims, just as the Demon Knight raises his shield instinctively.

“Have a taste of Armor Piercing!”

Alexander fires as a golden round of light erupts from his gun towards the knight. Before you can react you hear a tremendous ringing noise and a burst of dark flames erupt from the Knight's chestpiece, and Alexander falls to the ground gripping his leg, bleeding.

The bullet ricocheted of his shield!

“Argh! Dammit. . .”

Alexander is down!

Now stands the Demon Knight and the Paladin before each other. Two warriors of Dark and Light. No one to interfere or intervene. The one standing in the way of their lover, the other standing in the way of their friends.

POST POST POST POST POST

Rolled 32, 82 = 114 (2d100)

>>16574

>>>Name: Alixia Demagaci, The Mad Knight

>>>Race:Human

>>>Fluff:In the Darklands time is irrelevant. It doesn't matter if its been a day or a year or a life time. Its always torment. The Darklands have been around since the first race learned to keep track of time and it will always be around. Many have tried to seal it in such as the bastion, but some have tried to destroy it from the inside. They have all failed. When Alixia was sent in she was part of a group of knights standing 10,000 men and women strong, each the best and brightest the world has ever seen. They were all dead in what felt like seconds when they came across 3 wandering demons. Of the 10,000 only 3 remained. Each were taken by the demons out of an act of boredom. Alixia is one of them. Her mistress tormented her with insidious tortures. She was scarred beaten and raped until her cruel mistress grew bored of her and flung her into the Darklands to watch her struggle. With only corrupted versions of her armor and spear and a brand allowing her demon tormentor to watch her she was cast into the depths with very little of her sanity left and only the faintest memories of anything that's happened to her. Her mistress was kind enough however to whisper that her former compatriots are still alive and that her goal is to be cured. Now if her tainted mind can comprehend that then maybe she has a chance to escape.

>>>Health: Healthy

>>>Money: 5 Gold Coins

>>>Belongings: Clothes, Rucksack,[Corrupted Sword

>>>Level: 0

>>>Fame/Infamy: (You earn this in game)

>>>Skills:

>>>Equipment:

[Corrupted Armor]

[Corrupted Shield]

[Corrupted Spear]

[Strange Corrupted Glowy thing in the Chest plate]

>>>Followers:

>>>[Bonus: Infernal Immortality] - You are immortal. Your body is but an instrument of pain, and cannot be destroyed by even the harshest torments. But pain is drawn to you like a knife is drawn to blood and there are other side effects

>>>Location: Darklands

>>>+[Brand of the Wretched]

1-2: In a moment of clarity among waves of confusion, pain, and never ending agony Alixia is able to pull forth enough of her sanity to piece together her tongue of old "Revertimini stulti tantum desperatio incendebat et dolore exspectare te huc adducit" And with that she raises her sword and begins to slowly advance on the intruder.

Rolled 75, 83 = 158 (2d100)

>>16574

>Name: Rikard Vidtersung

>Race: Human

>Fluff: A young Paladin and the youngest in the noble Vidtersung family, loyal servants of the Paladins of Brohman for generations, Rikard has little to his name save natural ability as a Paladin and the achievements of his forefathers, including his near-legendary Father, slayer of a great, impure evil, who he lives in the constant and massive shadow of. Rikard wants nothing more than to make a name for himself and honor his family line by cleansing all that is impure in holy flame.

>Health: [Healthy]

>Money: 5 Gold Coins

>Belongings: Clothes, Rucksack

>Level: 0

>Fame/Infamy: [Demonslayer]

>Skills:

+ [Synergy (Wolfheart) - You and this companion gain a major bonus when acting together in unison]

+ [Average Swordsmanship]

+ [Average Aquilla Holy Words]

+ [Average Strength]

2/5 [Weak Burning Light]

+ [Weak Lay on Hands]

+ [Endure Elements]

1/5 [Create Water]

1/5 [Create Food]

1/5 [Barrier of Purity]

1/5 [ Bed of Iron]

+ [ Synergetic Mental Fortitude (Wolfheart)] - Whenever you think of your close friend, you can't help but stay strong for them. The same applies to her.

>Equipment:

+ [Paladin Armor]

+ [Longsword]

+ [Holy Aquilla]

+ [100 Gold Coins]

>Followers:

+ [Loren Wolfheart]

Skills:

[Average Aquilla Holy Words]

[Good Daggerwork]

[Great Marksmanship]

>Bonus: [House Vidtersung] - You are trained of the best and most experienced Paladins in fighting off the demon menace, and have their financial backings and that of the Empire to aid you as well.

>Location: Bastion of the Alliance

1/2: Rikard calls for Alex and almost moves to help his downed cousin, but realizes he cannot, not with the demon so close by. "I'll down the beast for you, cousin." he instead says with a wink at Alex's side, straightening himself to face the demonic monster as it comes towards him. Steadying himself, the brings his longsword to blow, mentally preparing his counters, magics and attacks against this beast. The glowing beacon in it's chestplate would surely be of great benefit to destroy, if a way could be worked to strike it!

+ [House Vidtersung}

+ [Average Swordsmanship]

+ [Average Aquilla Holy Words]

+ [Average Strength]

+ [Synergetic Mental Fortitude (Wolfheart)] - Whenever you think of your close friend, you can't help but stay strong for them. The same applies to her.

Rolled 93, 9 = 102 (2d100)

>>11426

>Name:Elkantar Vrammyr

>Race:Drow

>Fluff:A pirate of the sea he knew that in birth that he will love the booty of the drows in fact he always believed that driders are blessed because of the giant booty so he's exiled for his radical ideas but he somehow got a following between other drow and some humans for his emphasis on the booty and he's a pirate

>Don't fill this this:

>Health: Healthy

>Money: 5 Gold Coins

>Belongings: Clothes, Rucksack

>Level: 0

>Fame/Infamy: (You earn this in game)

>Skills:

>Equipment:Flintlock Pistol, Rapier, Pirate's Galley, Mysterious Spear, & Imperial Destroyer - 15 Cannons

>Followers:Motley Band of Drow, Humans, and a few miscellaneous & [45 Wannabe Pirates].[Grunt,the Cyclops], [Grotslag the Gunsinger], [Ssolmass, the Lamia], [Horka, the Orc Woman], [Lianna Crossbones - Skeleton Lass], [Attitide & Lilia - Enhanced Lizard Women], [Former Captain Lucene], &[Asb'el the Badass First Mate]

>Bonus:[A Pirates Life fer me] - You are a pirate, skilled at sailing, killing, but most of all, stealing all the booty.

>Location: Pirates bend

Hey Grunt I got a job for ye. Grunt attack the abomination and if at all possible it dies you shall get double rations. Rest of ya get off this ship and Grotslag find Mr. Crossbones and if they are done and want this other ship you have absolute permission to sink it

1-2 TRY TO GET THE CREW OFF THE SHIP EXCEPT FOR GRUNT. THE CREW MUST GET ON CAPTAIN CROSSBONE'S SHIP LEAVE THE LIZARDS BEHIND THEY ARE UNSATISFACTORY IN THE EFFORT.

Rolled 2, 67 = 69 (2d100)

>>11425

>Name: Ruikus

>Race: Human

>Fluff: Ruikus was a peasant who's uncle was a wizard who wished for Ruikus to be his successor and to be the greatest wizard in the land. So Ruikus's uncle placed a blessing/curse on Ruikus's mind so that Ruikus will be able to learn and gain magical and physical power at an incredible rate, with some hidden downsides of some sort. Unfortunately his uncle died when he was still young, placing the enchantment on him when he was a baby, and Ruikus grew up just a strange peasant child, who wished for nothing more than to raise beyond what he was.

>Health: Healthy

>Money: 100 Gold Coins, 10 silver coins

>Belongings: Clothes, Rucksack, [Smithy]

>Level: 0

>Fame/Infamy: (You earn this in game)

>Skills:

+[Blinding Flash]

+[Blacksmithing]

+[Weak Four Elements]

>Equipment:

Shovel

Peasants Garb

A bag of Shit (Manure)

Your favorite stick (you don't know why you like to keep it, but you do. You swear it does things)

Mithril Knife

>Followers:

+[Undead Fairy]

>Bonus: [Yer a Wizard Ruikus] - Thanks to the machinations of your uncle, you have an affinity to magic rivaling that of even born wizards! Be ware, for many creatures and many things will want to harvest you for that power. You're also built like a brick shithouse, towering over the other farmer boys.

>Location: Somewhere in the Holy Brohman Empire

1&2. "Well no use waiting around here moping. How about we head to the library? My Fairy friend here should be able to help us find the books we need." Either way Ruikus was going to the library to search on books on elemental magics. He had started learning them in the forest, and he was so close to learning the more advanced techniques.

Weak Advanced Elements 6/10

5/7 Average 4 elements

>>7705

>>16574

Did I get missed or are you just not accepting new players?

>>17115

Eh, no I'll add you in. I just couldn't tell if you were active or not.

>>2827

[Clovis]

“Fredrick Evilsbane.

Your name and house was once revered throughout all the land. The house of Evilsbane was the bloodkin and close relative of the house of King Robert himself, and you were the champion and famed adventurer of your house. While King Robert lead his crusade to cleanse the whole world of evil, you and your band of what was once the greatest party of adventuring explorers the world had ever known. With your partner Shagorith the Wizard, Venee the assassin and your love, and Scoborn the magical warhound you party slew dragons, conquered demons, and protected the realm from the evils that lurked within. Bards and poets used to sing about your adventures in the streets, about your magic sword, your bloodline's blessed powers that protected you from the forces of darkness.

Until your final battle against a powerful Lichlord, where when you least expected, Shagorith betrayed you, taking the very Lich's staff, and casting your body to the ravine along with the broken phylactery of the dead Lich.

But as your body died, your soul screamed in rage. Filled with anger and DETERMINATION your soul began to fill that broken phylactery, absorbing the ambient necrotic powers and your rage. Centuries would pass, until at long last gained enough hatred and power to embed itself in the chest of your skeletal corpse, and sustain your form and consciousness in unlife.

Rise from your grave, lichlord.

He that hath been wronged shall live again and extol his vengeance.

Your family, your name, your flesh, all is now dust. All that remains is your undead soul, ready to return to this world.

You awake to find yourself in a tomb within the great Shadowlands, that great and dark realm where the sun never shines. The ancient home of the Vampire, the battleground of necromancers, and the breeding ground of monsters, giants, and mutants. Darkness rules the lands here

Bonus: Demilich

You are a Demilich, your body is weak but your soul is strong. And with the nectrotic powers at your disposal, you find undead magic and the summoning of minions is much easier. However, beware, for the powerful phylactery now embedded in your chest is your last link to this world.

>Get an extra makeup turn. POST NOW

>>3684

[Worldmaster]

The old witch smiles at your offer, pondering it, then opening her mouth in agreement.

“I won't trade you for the boy. He is mine.

But I will take up your offer to come with me. Just to show you, I have no malicious intent for him.

However, if you do this, you will have to abide by my terms.

You will be with me for no less than 1 year, under my beckoning. And be my servant, to be subjected to any demands I make. Is this understood?

Take my hand.”

The Witch extends her hand in a grasp, and you can feel there is a magic in the room and her hand.

>Get an extra makeup turn. POST NOW

>>17536

Salino was, hesitant to shake the hand, unsure if the witch will betray her, or exploit her selfishly… Nonetheless, Salino slowly went to take the witch's hand.

"I agree… I only hope that you do not have malicious intents for myself…"

>>7705

[Junika]

You are one of the rarer species of monster in the depth, a creature of tendrils, suckers, and eggs. Both human and merfolk are not very enthused about monsters, and especially not very enthused about mating with them, but your body insists you find a mate somewhere.

Thus you have taken upon yourself, since these mermaids swim. . .very fast, to find a mate on land!

Bonus:

Creature of the deep-

You need water. At least once a day. You will probably shrivel up and die without it. You also have very strong tentacles!

Time of the season-

Your body is laden with eggs, eggs which need to be fertilized by something. . .anything. Your species has very long ovulation times, so there is no explicit rush, however while you are heavy with eggs your hormones will play haywire with your body and mind, making you incredibly passionate about the task at hand.

>Get an extra makeup turn. POST NOW

Rolled 69, 40, 8, 53 = 170 (4d100)

1.2. Find a Tavern and flirt with a woman there. That is how humans do things right? Though the last woman I tried to talk to ran screaming. Maybe I should be more subtle then whispering in her ear that she would look wonderful with my eggs stuffed in her womb.

3.4. I'm on land and I'm a sea monster. A bad combination if it comes down to hostilities… so time to practice fighting on land. Develop those land legs so to speak.

>Name: Junikia

>Race: You don't know.

>Fluff: Normally you wouldn't be caught dead on land. People stared at your tentacles. They stared at your lack of hair, and the stared at your nakedness. You just wanted to flee back into the safe and dark waters. Only you had no choice. You were heavy with eggs and all the mermaids were avoiding you. Perhaps you had been a bit forward with your attentions but that was no reason to flee on sight even when you just wanted to talk. And damnit you weren't going to mimic your long-gone mother and force someone to bare your eggs. A child deserved caring parents. You weren't bitter at all on having to raise yourself after your surrogate mother abandoned you after birth, nope.

Don't fill this this:

>Health: Healthy

>Money: 5 Gold Coins

>Belongings: Clothes, Rucksack

>Level: 0

>Fame/Infamy: (You earn this in game)

>Skills:

>Equipment:

>Followers:

Bonus:

Creature of the deep-

You need water. At least once a day. You will probably shrivel up and die without it. You also have very strong tentacles!

Time of the season-

Your body is laden with eggs, eggs which need to be fertilized by something. . .anything. Your species has very long ovulation times, so there is no explicit rush, however while you are heavy with eggs your hormones will play haywire with your body and mind, making you incredibly passionate about the task at hand.

>Location: Sea of Sirens

>>17537

[Worldmaster – Makeup Dialogue]

You take the witches hand. There is a flash of light, and then you percieve no more.

—-

You awake to find yourself in a bright lit house, surrounded by lavish furniture, there is the sound of birds outside and a cool breeze.

You look to find yourself. . .changed. Good Todsanger, what happened to your body?

Your body is. . .young again. You look like you did when you were at the very most 19, the muscles and scars of age and battle are gone! And you also appear to be naked and lying on this bed.

Salino hears a noise, and turns to see the door to the room open, where walks in a woman she has never met before, even younger than her. Behind her walks the young man both of theme seem to be the same age. The boy is wearing simple long robe that his arms and legs stick out of, but the girl is wearing a much more elaborate dress. Was this another kidnapped person?

“Good” says the young woman, who stares at you “you're awake.”

That voice. It's much younger, but you instantly recognize it from her accent. This is the witch!

“Welcome to my home. Get used to it.

I imagine you're wondering about your age. Like I told you, I invested a considerable amount of magic into the lad. This boy will be my manservant now, and my apprentice. He will attend to my needs while I train him. I've made myself younger, to give me time and youth teach him everything I know as he grows up as well.

You however” she says, now staring directly at you “will just be my servant. “

Before you can protest, she tosses a long robe similar to the one the boy is wearing in your face.

“Get dressed, I will have much work for you and those muscles.”

>Post. Actions or persuasion attempts will be in roll-action format

>Name: Unknown (for now)

>Race: Elemental (Metal)

>Fluff:

Everything was dark. The Elemental cried out. "Why it so dark? Wasn't I just… wait, who i am I again? The elemental gazes upon the nearby area and spots a note. the note just has three words. DESTROY ALL HUMANS, immediately blacks out

When waking up he realizes what can he do with his body. He can manipulate metal and change himself to be any metal that he discovers (and obviously inheriting it's properties).

>Health: Healthy

>Money: 5 Gold Coins

>Belongings: Clothes, Rucksack

>Level: 0

>Fame/Infamy: (You earn this in game)

>Skills:

>Equipment:

>Followers:

>Bonus: Based on fluff

>Location: Don't care

Rolled 29, 66 = 95 (2d100)

>>13367

>Name: Senzar Kuro

>Race: Human Incubus

>Fluff: Death and Ruin. This is how you would describe Senzar Kuro, Bane of Life, Tyrant of Desolation. Kneel before him or follow him to your death, this is the Ultimatum he gives.

>Health: Healthy

>Money: 5 Gold Coins

>Belongings: Clothes, Rucksack

>Equipment:

[Dread Armor]

[Dread Mace]

[Dread Spiked Shield]

>Level: 0

>Fame/Infamy:

>Skills:

>Equipment:

[Skaven Firearms: Some]

>Strongholds:

[+Spider Lair]:: [+Sylvia the Drider Queen]; [603 Goblin Rabble]; [1403 Gretchin Rabble]; [1000 Infant Spiderlings]

[Small Skaven Outpost]:: [15 Skaven Males]; [11 Skaven Females]

>Followers:

[21 Well Armed Loyal Goblins]; [10 Goblin Rabble]

1-2; Offer the Skaven a place in my army if they pledge their souls to me. If not, kill them. Begin expanding and fortifying the Skaven Outpost. Have the gretchin scavenge and hunt food for the spiderlings. Not one of my servants will be harmed without my say so or else.

test

fuck you

>Name:Vynnrenn

>Race:Human

>fluff: Raised amongst the nobility of the holy brohman empire, as a child a dark figure was found on several occasions standing near him in his sleep, vanishing whenever someone attempted to make contact. Vynnrenn began an education at an early age, and was also taught swordsmanship, he aged found he preferred a bastard sword and a tower shield. in a time of crisis he was drafted into the army, and quickly climbed the ranks, but his comrades often wondered why on several occasions his comrades have died so close to home on the return trip, rumors were spreading of a horrible demon that spewed a caustic slime, and raise the dead, whenever this is mentioned to him it feels vaguely familiar, memories of certain battles in which he was the only survivor are hazy.

as a teenager he found a blade whilst swimming in the river, it was surrounded by corpses and a green fluid, upon making contact with it he passed out, and woke up inside the city walls, several people he disliked vanished in the period of his sleep

>bonus:

>Health: Healthy

>Money: 5 Gold Coins

>Belongings: Clothes, Rucksack

>Level: 0

>Fame/Infamy:

>Skills:

>Equipment:

>Followers:

>Name:Santhrel

>Race:Human Incubus

>Fluff: Santhrel was born from a farming family, his mother however was a succubi hiding under a visage to try to get to the king whom the father personally supplied food to, in his infancy a tyrannical king had been installed and his father was executed for attempting to assist a rebel groups entry into the capitol(pushed by santhrels mother to do so). As a child he was mauled to death by a pack of wolves, all of the wolves died on the spot, shortly after he died of bloodloss the god of death had visited him and gave him his blessing, to only return in important portions of the timeline, he had returned to his family farm that had been sacked, his mother had shed her visage and was dead, only identifiable by her face, his wounds were fully sealed after the walk back however and he managed to sustain himself into adulthood and mastered the art of necromancy with the blessing of the god of death(whom reaps the souls of those he reanimates, leaving a portion in the corpse until it rots through and collapses), and gained high proficiency with double shortswords, bears a heavy resentment of the king; blaming him for the problems of his childhood

Don't fill this this:

>Health: Healthy

>Money: 5 Gold Coins

>Belongings: Clothes, Rucksack

>Level: 0

>Fame/Infamy: (You earn this in game)

>Skills:

>Equipment:

>Followers:

>Bonus:

>Location:somewhere in the outskirts of the holy brohman empire

>>19724

I see paradoxes everywhere in his bio.

Rolled 78, 28 = 106 (2d100)

1/2 Billy goes around asking the people of how there days been, and how they feel about asss stabbing

bumperino

>>46203

Me too

>>46880

really makes me think