Avatar of Gentlemanvaultboy
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    1. Gentlemanvaultboy 12 yrs ago

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I guess my comfort zone is "eccentric side character."

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Seki spied his staff, taking a quick step forward to kick it back up into his hands before brandishing it in a defensive stance. If either of the assailants stepped forward to attack he would bring it down on them. He wanted to help the orc to his feet, but dared not lest the attackers take advantage of his open back.

"I'm here to help." He said to the orc. "Are you injured?"
Divine providence was a strange thing.

Though the myriad of small gods Seki served and cared for were weak, nigh powerless, they were nonetheless demanding. Many, in ages long past and forgotten, had been lawgivers. Protectors. Guardians. The things people looking out the entrance to their dwelling in the dark of night, imagining a countless number of evils and dangers, wished for in a god. Their diminished status had not changed this nature, and in times they worked together to meddle. A whisper of an idea here and there, setting up signs that they trusted their devoted follower to interpret correctly. Gently leading him down the path to where he needed to be.

Seki had no idea if that was the case in this instance, but so used was he to this type of meddling that when he heard something such as a scream that contained all the markings of a cry for help he was primed to believe that he had been meant to hear it.

"Please excuse me." He said hastily to the dwarf as he shouldered past the man that had cut him in line and vaulted over the counter and into the back. He spotted the man who must have yelled almost instantly (only an orc could make that much noise) but it took him another moment to realize what was happening. He'd never been in the back of a smithy before, but it surly wasn't that unusual to walk around with weapons? No, no, that wasn't right. From the way they were moving...

It dawned on Seki that the orc was under attack, and in that moment he spun his staff up into one hand and threw it like a javelin at the nearest attacker before taking off at a dead run toward him to follow up with a flying knee.
Seki spotted the little dwarven woman coming out of the shop, read the sign she carried in her hands, and looked down at his arms. "You do not have to do these things for me," he said lovingly to the little discs, "But thank you all the same." He grabbed up his staff and made his way over.

The slight moment he took to thank divine providence may have been a mistake, however, as it seemed every person on the street had chosen this moment to make their way to the shop. Were they all looking for a job? No, at least the man speaking to the woman was a customer.

He walked up behind this man and waited patiently. He didn't know if he had any skills that would be useful to the blacksmith, but there was no point in making a poor impression by interrupting her while she was with a customer.
Name: Seki Shram Bishop
Age: 37
Race: Human
Appearance: A tall, tan, muscular man in a robe and sandals. His hair is a long black braid the extends down his back. Wound around his arms are small wooden disks that clack together as he walks, many of which have different symbols or designs etched into them in a variety of colors and styles.

Class/Station: Wandering Monk

Brief Background: A chance encounter with an old forgotten shrine deep in the forest near his temple introduced Seki and an old forgotten god that had lost all its powers. It had a profound effect upon the young man and as he grew he resolved to do everything in his power to help it and others like it. He's walked the earth in search of Small Gods ever since, introducing them to those he believes are compatible.

Ten Word Personality: A kind, generous man who lives for something greater.

Equipment:
-A walking staff
-A small pack around his waist holding whittling tools, some rice, a journal, a quill, and different colors of ink.
-A waterskin
-His holy symbols, the little wooden disks.
It was the most enjoyable thing, Seki thought, to watch the town awaken. He walked the streets, the click-klack-click-klack the wooden discs decorating his arms announcing his presence long before it was seen. He had just come ashore from a long sea voyage aboard The Throttled Noah, a grand ship now resupplying at the dock. It had been a simple arrangement: labor in exchange for passage off the Zukane Archipelago. It wasn't the first such arrangement Seki had made, but he nonetheless always found himself grateful when good solid earth was once again under his feet.

It wasn't long before he came to a small market square. Stopping to think for a moment he reached into his bag and pulled out a small bag of rise. He tossed it in the air a few times, weighing it, before sighing. His provisions were getting fairly low. There was surly a job he could find here that would let him buy a little more food. Being on a holy mission was all very well and good but what would happen to his charges should a starve to death in a ditch somewhere.

He walked past the blacksmiths shop, waving a cheery hello to the dwarf already hard at work, exchanging nods with the dwarf who stumbled past as though he were still at sea, before finding a cozy little space on the wall. He leaned his staff against it and pressed his back against the cool stone. Across from him a man sat on a porch, looking pensively at the shops. Seki gave him a slight bow.
Name: Seki Shram Bishop
Age: 37
Race: Human
Appearance: A tall, tan, muscular man in a robe and sandals. His hair is a long black braid the extends down his back. Wound around his arms are small wooden disks that clack together as he walks, many of which have different symbols or designs etched into them in a variety of colors and styles.

Class/Station: Wandering Monk

Brief Background: A chance encounter with an old forgotten shrine deep in the forest near his temple introduced Seki and an old forgotten god that had lost all its powers. It had a profound effect upon the young man and as he grew he resolved to do everything in his power to help it and others like it. He's walked the earth in search of Small Gods ever since, introducing them to those he believes are compatible.

Ten Word Personality: A kind, generous man who lives for something greater.

Equipment:
-A walking staff
-A small pack around his waist holding whittling tools, some rice, a journal, a quill, and different colors of ink.
-A waterskin
-His holy symbols, the little wooden disks.
Speaking of, Rest In Peace, Darwin. We hardly nu you. :3


He's fine, I figure they're basically indestructible.
*Edit*

Whoops again.
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Whoops.
I'm uncertain about what "yes, and" entails.
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