Death of a Dragon Cult (19/10/16) Edit
Everyone found each other at the entrance to Thundertree and we were talking about what we were going to do when Naka noticed a squirrel and promptly began trying to put it in his cloaca. The squirrel turned out to be the Druid Reidoth and when he turned back into a human, Naka was none too pleased with himself. Reidoth is a bit hard to understand but gave us lots of info about the Dragon Cult and Venomfang, the young green dragon who inhabits Thundertree. Reidoth told us that if we helped him clear out the dragon, then he would split the dragon's loot with us. Seems only fair and no one in the group had anything bad to say about the arrangement.
Reidoth split and Naka thought it a good idea to scout out the area but in taking off he made quite a ruckus and a couple of zombies were alerted to our presence. We killed them with holy magic and chopping their heads off. Then wen't to have a conversation with the Dragon Cultists. Davorin seems to know one of them, named Favrik.
Talking to the Dragon Cultists revealed nothing except that they believed to be in control of Venomfang and they split away from Brucifer to work for Nezznar a.k.a. The Black Spider. So we trapped them in their house and burned them alive with dragon's breath and an Eldritch Blast.
When the cops showed up me and Dre stood next to a burnt down house. With a can full of gas and a handful of matches, still no one found out.
Davorin found their magical dragon's skull and put it on. The rest of us found a three diamonds in the ashes of what appear to be a box and several pieces of parchment. Probably nothing important written on them.
As we left the embers, Venomfang revealed himself. Davorin quickly took control of him with some magical words and he was ours. He offered us weapons and magical items in exchange for the mask. Little did we know that he was merely toying with us. As soon as we were in a good position for him he blasted us with his poison breath. Several of us hit the ground immediately, unconscious. As the wave of poison rushed over us we felt a second wind rush over us, a newfound source of energy if I may, it feels almost as if we were ... level 4.
Writing Prompt Edit
Describe your character's appearance, clothing, armor, weapons, figure, hair, face, usw.
Davorin (Lorkoris Wolfsbane) Edit
Lean and lithe. Davorin is quick, nimble, and quiet, rather cat-like. He wears dark clothes and only simple leather armor--anything heavier and he'd be hindered by its weight.
Being half elf and half human, he has a human build with elven features. He is shorter than your typical elf, but broader in the shoulders. still, if you looked at his face, you'd see the long facial features typical of elves, including the long dark hair that sits at his shoulders. You'd also probably see a hint of a smile, for Davorin is always thinking of how to get the best of a situation.
He carries a shortbow and arrows, two concealed daggers, and the talon longsword.
Durkon Beerfist Edit
Durkon is old and grizzled. He has a long, thick white beard. His skin on his face is wrinkly and leathery. He is stout but built. Though not as strong as he one was in his younger years, Durkon still has some muscle left.
He wears modest garb under his sweet ass chain mail issued by his tribe in honor of his position in the military (General). His hammer is chipped and beaten from years of use, but is still as shiny as the first day he got it.
Muh fuggers act like they forgot about Dre.
Killgore the Trout Edit
With the exception of his boots, leather breeches, and leather bandolier, Killgore is naked. He is about 7 feet tall and exceptionally muscley. He looks like a human but has a light green tint to his screen that betray his orc ancestry. He has two rings on his finger. One that has a black spider on it and the one that controls Droop. Killgore's weapons are stored on his back, handles up, ready to fight.
Killgore's face bears the scars of many street brawls down on the docks and his ears are also pointy belying his orc heritage. His jet-black hair is pulled back in a pony tail with brass rings every few inches to make sure it stays out of his eyes.
Anyone who looks at Killgore, though, has their eyes drawn instinctively to the necklace he's wearing which appears to be a chain hanging with dicks of many different shapes and sizes. The one that appears to be his prize possession is the newest. He fingers it casually and absentmindedly.
Nox the Collector Edit
Nox is a sunken-eyed dark blue skin elf with square lines through his 300+ year old face. Tests of necromancy, mortal scarring, and the curse of his God has left him with a golden tinge to his body and his emerald eyes also a burnt match to his skin. White hair slicked back around his ears. Black oils have treated his light leather armor; more so for weatherproof utility than fashion. He carries various bangles, ornaments, and components around his robes and armor; from the dull to the ornate. A crossbow swings from a shoulder holster hidden well. Various parchments and scrolls peak out from his trusty scholar pack. His dark grimoire of necrotheurgia is bound tightly together with a white mesh. It sits taut against his thigh.
Once a relatively well built elf for the Underdark, a highly skilled merchant and trader; an untimely encounter with a rotting King has since left him atrophied physically. Strength seems to be a daily struggle. The glass staff that he now occasionally rests his weight upon is a brilliant sight. Thick but still light enough to handle, the core is bifurcated repeatedly into a fractal clear kaleidoscope structure; the notion of any worldly "glass" material seems to be only a superficial label. Light seems to emanate but also become absorbed in the manifolds.
Rigo the Spicy Edit
At a glance, Zharik looks like any other Wood Elf with his beautiful chestnut brown skin, full-bodied light brown hair, and blindingly green eyes. Years of meditation and commune with the trees of his homeland have given him an annoyingly youthful demeanor and innocent, near-constant smile. While not physically intimidating, he clearly takes care of his body and even in the most harsh of lighting his muscles glisten tastefully from the natural oils of his kind. In his natural environment amongst the trees, Zharik would gleefully run around shirtless while wearing form-fitting, homemade breaches that leave his manhood properly supported.
After setting out on his journey, Zharik realized that the prudish nature of the Sword Coast denizens would require him to fit in by adapting to their local styles. He now wears a simple and well-fitted pale green tunic and slightly less tight breaches. His feet are covered by boots made of what appears to be a natural plant leather dyed to match normal cruelty-borne leather. In his pack he carries a small plant leather breastplate and complementing greaves.
At his waist he has a simple scimitar and a small pouch tied to his woven hemp belt. The sword does not appear well-maintained and it clearly causes him some discomfort as he walks. The pouch is quite worn and is sticky and stained a deep violet around the opening from manipulation of a massive quantity of berries of the goodly variety. Small seed husks are also embedded in the makeshift jam, implying that he carries with him an impressive seed stock.