I like short and sweet sometimes. It puts a strain on my principles to devote more than a mote of attention to killing mass amounts of NPCs.
Doc Doctor
Member
(The Document Doctor)
STATUS: Moved to Discord. Visit my YouTube channel (ArtyPickles PvP) at m.youtube.com/channel/UCVer… 5 yrs ago
-
Last Seen:
0-24 hrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
- Posts: 2229 (0.57 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- Doc Doctor 11 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
The Orange Gato,
SkyeOfStars,
Divorarel,
N3v3rM0r3,
Bork,
LeeRoy
Status
Recent Statuses
5 yrs ago
Current
Moved to Discord. Visit my YouTube channel (ArtyPickles PvP) at m.youtube.com/channel/UCVer…
Bio
Call me Doc. I prefer RM, UM, or LP fights, with human or peak human hand-to-hand or swords & sandals being my speciality.
Challenge me to a match any old time!
Arena Characters: http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/87852-docs-characters-no-posting/ooc#post-3105991
Challenge me to a match any old time!
Arena Characters: http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/87852-docs-characters-no-posting/ooc#post-3105991
Most Recent Posts
Amidst the melee stood Gonad, proud and tall. A vast pile of kest had already begun accumulating behind him. He had figured out a very effective way if dealing with the blighters. Let them run up, grab them, and kill them. It was so simple that it defied logic.
When one thinks of a monster's lair, usually a vast and yawning cave comes to mind. Much like the witching hour, many would be incorrect about this. Deep in the woods there was a hole. A little stony outcrop surrounded by willows and timothy grass, like the dwelling of a gremlin in some fairy tale. It went down much farther than any gremlin hole. A cold, rancid breeze flowed from it now. Air from the depths, brought up by something squeezing through the tunnels. It smelled humans, ones much more substantial than the girl.
It erupted out of its dwelling, surging along the damp ground like a vast adder. It took minutes for it to cross a distance that would have taken hikers an hour. It stopped beneath a tree, curling about the trunk so tightly that the bark creaked, and gazing up with blind eyes at the woman resting upon a branch. Like any animal, it looked for advantages first. A lioness did not simply leap out in front of its prey. A lioness preferred to hunt in packs to minimise the chance of failure. All things were an enemy Shashous-Throth, but an enemy of your enemy was a friend, so long as that enemy existed. The prey it scented was formidable enough to warrant insurance.
It erupted out of its dwelling, surging along the damp ground like a vast adder. It took minutes for it to cross a distance that would have taken hikers an hour. It stopped beneath a tree, curling about the trunk so tightly that the bark creaked, and gazing up with blind eyes at the woman resting upon a branch. Like any animal, it looked for advantages first. A lioness did not simply leap out in front of its prey. A lioness preferred to hunt in packs to minimise the chance of failure. All things were an enemy Shashous-Throth, but an enemy of your enemy was a friend, so long as that enemy existed. The prey it scented was formidable enough to warrant insurance.
Any idea on when the tournament will be?
@YamiNoNeko2341Shash will meet Jazmine after she makes her appearance.
They say midnight is the witching hour. The time when spooks are at their strongest, when the demons and ghosts come out to play. Those who would say this are incorrect. It is always darkest before the dawn. When all the daylight creatures are in the deepest phases of sleep, when the insects are silent and the dew has just begun to settle, when the moon as reached its zenith...
That is the witching hour. Who would wander into a forest dubbed forbidden at such a time? Those that ventured carelessly in such endeavors sometimes found themselves led astray by the dim lights of the deepwoods and were forever lost, and sometimes they found worse things than wisps. Sometimes out there in the dark, things might speak to you. You may see things walking that should crawl, and things flying that should walk. You may stumble upon a deep, rocky hole in the ground just large enough for a man to crawl through on his hands and knees, and for some strange reason you may want to go into it.
Men fancied themselves at the top of the world, and from a certain standpoint they were. But there are two worlds to every life, and two lives to every world. Reality and dream, reason and madness. Man may rule his sanity, but none may claim sovereignty over that which by its essence embodies a lack of control, though they may try. The forest was not sane. But, concepts are just that. They mean nothing by themselves. What matters is reality and the ways in which the human mind can or cannot process it. The reality is that five days ago a little girl was swallowed up by the forest. The reality was that her parents were pulling their hair out with grief, and that the town council was willing to reward the ones that found the child. The reality was that she would never be found. Still, someone had to go looking. Someone brave, someone of solid conviction and stout spirit. Surely no less could make it out of that place alive.
That is the witching hour. Who would wander into a forest dubbed forbidden at such a time? Those that ventured carelessly in such endeavors sometimes found themselves led astray by the dim lights of the deepwoods and were forever lost, and sometimes they found worse things than wisps. Sometimes out there in the dark, things might speak to you. You may see things walking that should crawl, and things flying that should walk. You may stumble upon a deep, rocky hole in the ground just large enough for a man to crawl through on his hands and knees, and for some strange reason you may want to go into it.
Men fancied themselves at the top of the world, and from a certain standpoint they were. But there are two worlds to every life, and two lives to every world. Reality and dream, reason and madness. Man may rule his sanity, but none may claim sovereignty over that which by its essence embodies a lack of control, though they may try. The forest was not sane. But, concepts are just that. They mean nothing by themselves. What matters is reality and the ways in which the human mind can or cannot process it. The reality is that five days ago a little girl was swallowed up by the forest. The reality was that her parents were pulling their hair out with grief, and that the town council was willing to reward the ones that found the child. The reality was that she would never be found. Still, someone had to go looking. Someone brave, someone of solid conviction and stout spirit. Surely no less could make it out of that place alive.
A flat no would suffice.
How about the Forbidden Forest? 
The team whose members all die loses, and each player must response to their opponent's last post within 48 hours or forfeit. That way some of us won't need to wait a week or two for a reply and risk forgetting about the whole thing, which I've seen happen countless times.
The team whose members all die loses, and each player must response to their opponent's last post within 48 hours or forfeit. That way some of us won't need to wait a week or two for a reply and risk forgetting about the whole thing, which I've seen happen countless times.
© 2007-2026