Ah, Reverin. You had mentioned in an earlier post that his name was known in this city. Keystone is in an area surrounded by mages. If he was hated, working for him might not be something to share. If liked, choking him out also might not be something to share. Playing it safe until I know how he was viewed in Telflamm.
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STATUS: Malfunctioning Space Toilet (favorite death post in RPG) : roleplayerguild.com/posts/4… 8 yrs ago
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He is a very occidental monk, if the term monk can be assigned to him in the classical sense. Monk without a monastery, taking lessons from several, unaffiliated teachers. Maybe one day he'll go back home and start a school proper.
While not insane, Keystone is certainly impulsive when not in his sphere of competence. Most things magical fall outside of this sphere.
Focusing my attention on the one wizard, true. I figured his prominent position at the front meant he was a sort of information desk, as it were. It's why I was asking about where to go for information. If there are many such desks/booths/wizards hawking wares and hanging out shingles, it'd be a great idea to get his prices and then shop around a bit more. Like comic con, but with evil mages. Sounds good.
While not insane, Keystone is certainly impulsive when not in his sphere of competence. Most things magical fall outside of this sphere.
Focusing my attention on the one wizard, true. I figured his prominent position at the front meant he was a sort of information desk, as it were. It's why I was asking about where to go for information. If there are many such desks/booths/wizards hawking wares and hanging out shingles, it'd be a great idea to get his prices and then shop around a bit more. Like comic con, but with evil mages. Sounds good.
It came to me at work. My colleagues thought I was insane, cackling off and on throughout the day, and it refused to leave my brain until it was typed and posted.
Upside, I have an idea for a deity for my next game session here at home.
Upside, I have an idea for a deity for my next game session here at home.
@DMZ
I'd just like you to know that I'm sorry, and I think you're a wonderful person. Read on.
I'd just like you to know that I'm sorry, and I think you're a wonderful person. Read on.
He grabbed a lit candle from the desk nearby, and solidly thunked it down between the slender mage and himself. Turing about, he dropped trou and aimed his posterior toward the flickering flame, confident in his decision to commit to the action which was to follow.
He summoned a foul wind from deep within himself, unclenching his innards with the muscular control of a practiced aesthetic. The first intestinal herald's horn blew, it's single bass note propelling a horror, birthed of road beef and dried fruit, upon the open flame. Slowly at first, as not to extinguish the precious fire, the staccato tearing sound was joined by a whoosh of flame growing into a vomitous inferno. This was his signal.
Growling, eyes bulging, and summoning an inner reserve of stamina unseen in the Realms outside of bardic drama, Keystone pressed his brown vapourous gale, pouring on the magnitude of the blast until it became indistinguishable from an archmage's assault of desperation, immolating and rendering septic everything in its cone of destruction. The low pitched rectal scream of this Armageddon continued, the sound approximating the droning of an infernal mantra and the ripping of a hundred canvas sails with unerring yet terrible synchronization. Drops of horrible flaming fluid sprayed from the edges of the cone of fetid hell, catching ablaze the very stone of the walls and running down to the floor in thin, oily rivulets of corruption. Sweat beaded and poured down Keystone's face, the tang of liquid salt insinuating itself onto his tongue as his mouth stood agape, bellowing a wordless shout of dominance; a battle-cry of unnamed rage and potency.
The desk was aflame. The scrolls were aflame. The shelves, and magical goods thereon were aflame, sending away sparks of eldritch energy. The mage was aflame, begging for the blessed relief of death.
Keystone abruptly ended the cacophony of misery and catastrophic methane, lest the fire be taken within. Already the odor of singed nether-hair joined the swirl of olfactory belligerence, prompting an end to the ham-flapping fusillade in fear of the unbridled power consuming its creator.
Pulling his pants back up with one hand, Keystone thrust his other fist skyward and proclaimed in a booming, demonic bass, surpassing in volume even the roar of the flames and shrieks of the dying,
"I am Animus, God of All Things BESTIAL!"
***
He snapped back from his daydream, and shook his head slightly. Had it only been a second? That was odd... Despite the sudden flash of depravity, Keystone maintained his outward professionalism. Noting the monstrous figure in the shadows of the shelves, he continued speaking confidently - though took action as if he were speaking to a display of armed guards.
"I have a dagger on my person, I would appreciate being identified." He flashed a quick smile and nodded slightly before continuing, "I'm getting it now." Keystone slowly and steadily brought his left hand behind him, where he had stuck the dagger into his belt earlier near his one of his own, mundane street cutters. He brought it back around, grasping it by the guard and sheath rather than the handle, and set it next to the two scrolls on Meriv's desk. "I am interested first in how much you would offer me for each of the scrolls, and the cost of identifying the blade, sir."
Keystone decided to keep Reverin's ring under wraps for now, until he knew more about people's attitudes toward the wizard in this city. Unsure about the finer workings (or any workings, for that matter) of magic, he didn't want to be associated as either a man who works for, or had a hand in dispatching, such a wizard just yet. Such as it pained Keystone to admit to himself, he needed to find a mage he could get to know and trust. The "trust" part was important.
He returned his hands to a clasped, neutral position, and tried to comport himself in his guardlike, professional demeanor, despite the images from his daydream blipping into his forethought. If he chuckled, all pretense of seriousness was done for.
His thoughts turned to something embarrassing - What if Kaylee was privy to his lapse into fantasy? ...bugger...
He summoned a foul wind from deep within himself, unclenching his innards with the muscular control of a practiced aesthetic. The first intestinal herald's horn blew, it's single bass note propelling a horror, birthed of road beef and dried fruit, upon the open flame. Slowly at first, as not to extinguish the precious fire, the staccato tearing sound was joined by a whoosh of flame growing into a vomitous inferno. This was his signal.
Growling, eyes bulging, and summoning an inner reserve of stamina unseen in the Realms outside of bardic drama, Keystone pressed his brown vapourous gale, pouring on the magnitude of the blast until it became indistinguishable from an archmage's assault of desperation, immolating and rendering septic everything in its cone of destruction. The low pitched rectal scream of this Armageddon continued, the sound approximating the droning of an infernal mantra and the ripping of a hundred canvas sails with unerring yet terrible synchronization. Drops of horrible flaming fluid sprayed from the edges of the cone of fetid hell, catching ablaze the very stone of the walls and running down to the floor in thin, oily rivulets of corruption. Sweat beaded and poured down Keystone's face, the tang of liquid salt insinuating itself onto his tongue as his mouth stood agape, bellowing a wordless shout of dominance; a battle-cry of unnamed rage and potency.
The desk was aflame. The scrolls were aflame. The shelves, and magical goods thereon were aflame, sending away sparks of eldritch energy. The mage was aflame, begging for the blessed relief of death.
Keystone abruptly ended the cacophony of misery and catastrophic methane, lest the fire be taken within. Already the odor of singed nether-hair joined the swirl of olfactory belligerence, prompting an end to the ham-flapping fusillade in fear of the unbridled power consuming its creator.
Pulling his pants back up with one hand, Keystone thrust his other fist skyward and proclaimed in a booming, demonic bass, surpassing in volume even the roar of the flames and shrieks of the dying,
"I am Animus, God of All Things BESTIAL!"
***
He snapped back from his daydream, and shook his head slightly. Had it only been a second? That was odd... Despite the sudden flash of depravity, Keystone maintained his outward professionalism. Noting the monstrous figure in the shadows of the shelves, he continued speaking confidently - though took action as if he were speaking to a display of armed guards.
"I have a dagger on my person, I would appreciate being identified." He flashed a quick smile and nodded slightly before continuing, "I'm getting it now." Keystone slowly and steadily brought his left hand behind him, where he had stuck the dagger into his belt earlier near his one of his own, mundane street cutters. He brought it back around, grasping it by the guard and sheath rather than the handle, and set it next to the two scrolls on Meriv's desk. "I am interested first in how much you would offer me for each of the scrolls, and the cost of identifying the blade, sir."
Keystone decided to keep Reverin's ring under wraps for now, until he knew more about people's attitudes toward the wizard in this city. Unsure about the finer workings (or any workings, for that matter) of magic, he didn't want to be associated as either a man who works for, or had a hand in dispatching, such a wizard just yet. Such as it pained Keystone to admit to himself, he needed to find a mage he could get to know and trust. The "trust" part was important.
He returned his hands to a clasped, neutral position, and tried to comport himself in his guardlike, professional demeanor, despite the images from his daydream blipping into his forethought. If he chuckled, all pretense of seriousness was done for.
His thoughts turned to something embarrassing - What if Kaylee was privy to his lapse into fantasy? ...bugger...
@Herald
All of them. I am allowing duplicates, as long as they are not carbon copies.
All of them. I am allowing duplicates, as long as they are not carbon copies.
@Necromancy
Thanks for letting me know. Will keep the door open, if you want to jump in later.
@Shoryu
That is a very in depth character. Way too powerful, way too complicated. I'm looking for B-list heroes just starting out their careers, possibly with a comical hang up of some variety. The heroes no one calls on because they're immediately discounted or completely unknown. The Other Guys.
Approved characters so far include an otherwise average accountant who is thus far unaffected by blunt trauma, and another that can extend his fingers to moderate lengths because of a magical octopus.
It is an excellent character, but doesn't quite fit the setting.
Thanks for letting me know. Will keep the door open, if you want to jump in later.
@Shoryu
That is a very in depth character. Way too powerful, way too complicated. I'm looking for B-list heroes just starting out their careers, possibly with a comical hang up of some variety. The heroes no one calls on because they're immediately discounted or completely unknown. The Other Guys.
Approved characters so far include an otherwise average accountant who is thus far unaffected by blunt trauma, and another that can extend his fingers to moderate lengths because of a magical octopus.
It is an excellent character, but doesn't quite fit the setting.
@Herald
Good character. Toss into the CS, post using the guidelines above.
Two more people, at least, and we'll have ourselves a full party again.
Good character. Toss into the CS, post using the guidelines above.
Two more people, at least, and we'll have ourselves a full party again.
The man, seemingly bookish at first, now struck Keystone as an interesting financial operator. Reminded him, just a bit, of a used cart salesman from back home. Growing up amongst thieves, the thin man's sudden shift in demeanor caused the larger man to be more on guard, not less at ease. He endeavored to look for the loophole that may screw him.
"Thank you, good sir Meriv! I appreciate your time with this. I have had offers on the scrolls already, I just need to see if you can better them; appraisal not really necessary. I may have one or two items though, need to be identified. If you would sir, before we get to exchanges, what is your charge for that?"
"Thank you, good sir Meriv! I appreciate your time with this. I have had offers on the scrolls already, I just need to see if you can better them; appraisal not really necessary. I may have one or two items though, need to be identified. If you would sir, before we get to exchanges, what is your charge for that?"
Very intimidating locale. Keystone thought it best to adopt his Business Voice and professional mannerisms for the occasion. Respectful, assertive, and well-postured; aware of his surroundings. He entered the enclave with perceptive eyes and a grim set to his wide jaw. Approaching the desk of the unremarkable grey skinned man, he politely cleared his throat to announce his presence.
"Afternoon, sir. I'm interested in speaking with someone on the subject of Necromancy." The last word was somewhat enunciated, reflecting the infrequency with which he spoke on the subject. He produced the two scrolls from his pack, and set them down gingerly "I am also keen on making a sale, scrolls. Finances permitting, an appraisal as well. With whom should I direct my inquiry?"
He stood tall, with a polite but neutral expression, hands clasped in front.
"Afternoon, sir. I'm interested in speaking with someone on the subject of Necromancy." The last word was somewhat enunciated, reflecting the infrequency with which he spoke on the subject. He produced the two scrolls from his pack, and set them down gingerly "I am also keen on making a sale, scrolls. Finances permitting, an appraisal as well. With whom should I direct my inquiry?"
He stood tall, with a polite but neutral expression, hands clasped in front.
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