Assallya

quest of questionable heroes

Name: Nyala
Age: 21
Gender: Female
class: Barbarian
race: Human
weapon(s): Three swords, two hand axes.
Outfit: As illustrated
Allegiance: The Njord. Barbarians of the North
bio: Nyala was born amongst the northern tribes. Some say she was born to one of the Weyr, those that change shape into beasts. As a result, while she is totally human she is partially wild, is most comfortable in the wilds and seems nearly unperturbed by any harshness of the elements.
History: Nyala is new to battle. She has sworn her life to battle against the Yotun and other creatures that wander the Frontier. Her mother is very proud of her overcoming the stigma of being "beast born", as his her adopted father. They were not surprised by her taking the Oath of Battles and leaving the village.

quest of questionable heroes

Would anyone be adverse to my claiming the Barbarian?

Faster way to unsubscribe to threads?

A better notion would be the tried and true selection box method followed by a confirmation elsewhere on the page.

Outlaws of Varisia (Pathfinder)

No disrespect to the GM, given last week's travails I completely understand occasional difficulty with getting online, but we could continue without if necessary.

Outlaws of Varisia (Pathfinder)

Well, at this point I suggest flouting causality, querying the group, seeing who remains and starting up a scene with the interested party.

On the plus side I now have internet back. For the last week the construction crew next door kept cutting the cable every time they repaired it. Apparently they didn't like the cable hanging in front of that house.

Saint's Row: A Return to Ass-Kicking

I can haz Internet!

Saint's Row: A Return to Ass-Kicking

"Ain't long," Carlos yelled over the sounds of the fully throttled engines and chopping waves, "Guards got to get home to their families an' all that bullshit."

Carlos was considering their next step. After all, this was about as far as he planned and if it hadn't been for his partner he knew he wouldn't have gotten this far, especially not with the helicopters and boats. Now he had to figure out what to do next. It was a shame about her. She still didn't know about the Saints. Where was she going to crash?

"After that we gotta split up. They'll be licking for a beaner and a white chick together even if we ditch these orange pajamas. I'm onna jack a car. Learned that collecting for sharkies. When a mark don't pay their dues you get creative getting payments. Blood soaking into the pavement don't fill the wallet. You get me?"

Outlaws of Varisia (Pathfinder)

Concubine? Assallya didn't relish the idea of returning to that life. While certainly she had been pampered and fawned over she had been nothing but a prized pet, an investment, a mere object and something shared amongst friends. No she had no yearnings for that. To be able to wander where she willed was something she'd grown to love. It had been worth running away and dancing atop tables in taverns until she'd enough coin to establish a proper profession- or rather, set of professions.

For a moment she considered plain open defiance, considered telling him Urgathoa could go drown in her own blood drenched carcass for all she cared. However, this one sounded somewhat reverent and that lent her pause. One didn't meddle in the beliefs of zealots, at least not without caution and a suitably good disguise with which to impersonate a divine intervention.

Then his hand caressed her jaw and her fingers clenched, and she resisted the urge to slap him. He, from what she gathered, would bear no reluctance towards striking her in return and with far greater efficiency. She considered dazing him, rendering him helpless for but a moment but then... where would she go? If she called for the guards would they do anything? In her estimation, it was as likely they would goad the large zealot on.

"I will not return to that life," she said simply, keeping her cold blue eyes on his, trying to eke out anything beyond total submission. She didn't hold out hope for much but she had to try. "A partnership perhaps?"

Outlaws of Varisia (Pathfinder)

The man's approach sent chills down her spine but she did not relent. Standing proudly, haughtily before her fellow captive she followed his every movement. When his palms kissed the stone, encircling her in his muscular confines- a cell within a cell, she merely glared back at him. She could conjure a spell to place her cellmate to sleep but such would only prove a short reprieve and worse, it likely would spill outwards into other cells and possibly draw the attention of the warden. Such scrutiny would be problematic unless she decided instead to give up and make her stay more comfortable by taking the warden as a lover. She wasn't there yet. She'd had her fill of being imprisoned, had spent her first few decades of life as a slave in a household.

It took nearly everything she had, concealing her cowardice. What she truly wished was to flee but to where? She felt the urge to toy with her long golden tresses, to adjust her ill fitting outfit, to do anything to distract herself from the confrontation hazarding her.

"You assume much," Assallya Kressair stated as she stared the man fully in the eye, as unflinching as the storm before a caravel "I let those that took me assume my magics were spent down to the last circle and what little remains I would reserve for an escape. I would not care to explain your charred corpse to yon guards for surely I would be better searched and my few remaining reagents plundered. How then would I escape?"

Saint's Row: A Return to Ass-Kicking

The latino youth groaned, clutching his head, shook it and then looked over at the woman beside him yelling orders. At first the words made no sense, then he played them back in his mind and realized what they meant. Opening the door he got out and stood, circling the crashed vehicles, stopping only momentarily to kick some poor idiot in the face.

"Gotcha," he replied and followed.

As he hit the dock he pulled the pins on those last two grenades, ensuring that nobody would by following them from this dock at least. Any who tried would have to brave the gas to get at any of the boats moored there. Then he moved on towards the indicated boat, jumping smoothly onto the rear deck and then, at her direction, into the pilot's cabin.

"Watch it homes," Carlos said as he turned the key in the ignition, "Don't fall off the back of the boat now."

Gunning the engine, the prow immediately rose up into the air as the black and white police boat launched forwards. The aft simultaneously lowered, the rim of the deck almost hitting the water's surface as the boat launched itself up on the plane.

"Yo!" he proclaimed suddenly, "Beware Stilwater, the red tide is a coming in!"