Quadrophenia

Monty Python's D&D Innkeep

I'll probably get the bio up tomorrow, it's quite late right now and anything I write right now will be too short and too bad to be proud of.

Monty Python's D&D Innkeep

Name: Atticus Warren 'The Magnificent'

Age: 62

Sex: Male

Race: Half Elf Half Human, mostly human though if that makes sense.

Class(lol): Vagrant/Warlock

Bio: Atticus' early life was very different from his later life. From a young age Atticus was taught the ways of magic from his father and mother, two very rich and very powerful wizards. Back then the magic economy was booming and you could get enough money to feed three goats and a cow from about just an hour of work. They sent Atticus to a prestigious wizarding academy when he was around eight and he stayed and studied there until he was about 16.

After he left the academy, he could have done practically any job involving wizardry available even though he wasn't really all that better than your average mage and probably shouldn't have been trusted with any position as high as "Assistant to archmage" or equal. He eventually got a job as the wizard in a generic adventuring group consisting of a rogue and a warrior of the same age as him. They pretty much done all the little tasks that big barbarians or snow-based-bastards were too important to do. One task they often had to do was fighting oversized rats in underground dungeons along with clearing away the bodies after doing so.

They continued doing these sorts of jobs up until they reached their early 20s, when they caught their big break. The big barbarian I mentioned earlier was going up a particularly gruesome dragon whom he thought he might have a small bit more trouble with if he didn't have a small group of backup fodder. Basically he treated them like garbage and made them carry his collection of loincloths and polish his oversized and impractical swords up until the actual fight happened. During the fight, the barbarian basically did everything while Atticus healed his friends and threw a couple fireballs, the rogue shot a few arrows at the dragon and the warrior jabbed at the dragon's knees. Nevertheless it earned them quite the bit of renown and the barbarian was too occupied with the dragons head during the fight that he couldn't actually see the amount of damage the trio were doing and took it for more rather than less.

They started to get much harder and more well paying jobs and as a result, began to hone their skills a lot more. A lot changed during the rogue, wizard and warrior economic crash that happened soon after they had done a few of their jobs. They decided to part ways and find new walks of life after the crash and Atticus soon lost contact with the two. For about 25 years he done general wizardry and healing while travelling, earning petty cash and barely paying his way at inns. He soon found himself a homeless vagrant and only managed to buy himself the bare essentials for the next 15 years. His wage has gone up and down every now and then and he has managed to buy himself a shiny new staff to channel magic through. Atticus has now found himself in the North, selling fire spells to the people there.

Picture or description of character: Atticus

The Bloodstained Flags

Uh, i'm going to have to drop out. Also, Laggia your grammar and spelling is awful along with your character personification and creation, please use a spellcheck in the future so my eyes don't try to commit hari kiri on themselves.

See you all in different RP's probably.

Monty Python's D&D Innkeep

Bum-Healer

Techno-help needed

why can't you just return the DVD when it arrives and order another with the right region, unless it's from ebay or something they should allow returns.

Question on Signatures

I recall there being some sort of rule of thumb where if your sig was bigger than your thumb it probably wasn't great. I'm not sure about any limit but if it's not big enough to disrupt a page I think it should be fine.

The Bloodstained Flags

Uh, Pathfinder, my character is from Liverpool, he's not really African-American.

The Bloodstained Flags

Craig watched as 'Green bullet' or so he put it began the introductions between the group. To Craig the idea of a false name was stupid, it wasn't like he was anybody before and if he actually done something in the war effort he'd probably become sort of pub legend at his regular pub. How he yearned to have a game of pool with the lads and knock back a pint in between games.

That time was long gone now and the terrors of war overtook. The only person he'd practically ever talked to in his first few weeks in the trenches was a young Polish lad named, Jarik. Jarik suffered around the same amount of racism as Craig had and they got on stupendously. Jarik was a little dumb at times though, and find English a hard language to master which made conversation a little hard. The only word that Jarik really knew fluently was 'Sausage' something Craig liked to joke about regularly.

"Metahumans, is that what they're calling us?" He grinned
"My names Craig, I don't have one of them other names so just call me Craig." He adjusted the sling on his gun so that it wasn't pointing into his side, it was now hung on his back.

The Bloodstained Flags

Craig woke up. He stared the ceiling of the room he had slept in it was painted a bright orangey colour a dire contrast to the dirt and dark rotten wood of the trenches he had been sleeping in just a few days previous. He got off the bed and got dressed before surveying his room. Men were fighting and dying on the front lines while they sat and made plans in some cushy villa in the north of Spain. He picked up his submachine gun and slung it over his shoulder before holstering his pistol on his leg. He picked up his rounded helmet, but rather than putting it on just carried it to his destination.

He made his way out of his room and into the corridor opposite it. He had a small wander about the villa, it was rather quiet for now par a few of the 'metahumans' that were making their way into the room they had been summoned to the night previous. He really couldn't be bothered discussing plans or whatnot, he was just your average follow orders soldier, which is probably why he was placed in the trenches, other than the fact that he was black too. He wondered how the metahumans would react to seeing a black man among them, even at the trenches he wasn't welcome for the first few weeks or so.

He finally made his way into the small room filled with the other metahumans. He stood amongst strangers, ready to receive orders from some bloke he knew nothing about.

A Sci-fi Special Forces RP interest check and discussion.

Interested as a rifleman.