The Grey Dust

Oh My Gods!

We are still waiting for the Kingmaker I believe.

Zhystkrexas will call the assembly into order shortly.

--- "I believe enough of us Essentials have arrived to preside over this assembly. Those of us who can spare the hours in abandoning our function... Hence we shall begin and the others who come now shall have their voices drowned in their own choices made."

And yes, the ellipses are him taking a pause to munch on his apples. He still has to eat after all.

Oh My Gods!

@ScreenAcne

Sure thing, go ahead Thanks for asking but you're the GM here XD

🦄 Duplicity - D&D Style Fantasy Rp Adventure (Completed)

Thomas Richard Harrison

Location: The Tower Stairwell
Interacting With: Stairs!

---

A stairway to Heaven?
Or a highway to Hell?

The perfect choke point. Trickling in like lambs to the slaughterhouse, their formation did not bode well. The footing of the stairwell gave the enemy the high ground, and gods knows what below waiting for them. Maybe it was time to turn back? And yet it was too late, they were fully invested now, to go back would be just as much a labour as going over. Yet to wade in a river of blood was far easier than a sea of bodies. Ahead of him was Keystone, Satilla, and the furry behind of a Bear, giving the boy not much room to squeeze past and ascend the perilous stairs. Thus whatever chaos ensued above them would have to wait for now, until a break in the line and they all inched forward to their certain doom. Alas the true enemy were the stairs, capable of congesting all traffic into a room, sealing them off as all combatants rushed the stairwell as fast as possible. Halfway up now behind Keystone, waiting for the rest to move on out.

With only three spells left, Thomas would not be a too useful if there were more summons found above. Maybe they could strike the summoner down quickly and all would be well. Disappearing as the concentration broke by the caster, but then again this necromancer seemed far more dangerous than first thought. Summoning minions? More so than the mere undead at his disposal but infernal boars and evidently centipedes. Maybe they should ignore the smaller targets to focus on defeating the necrolord? Without the caster, most summons disappear back from whence they came. Each needed a conduit to materialize them after all, if they could take out the source...

Oh My Gods!

Is this still a thing?

Just checking if there was still interest here.
We need more gods

D&D 5e - Titan Hunters

"Lady Mavros, that is no way for a noble lady to conduct herself!" A stern and almost growling voice rang out across the dining table. Far more fatherly than the Duke, the sharp lash of a disappointed paternal figure rebuking a child having snuck off late at night only to return in a state of total inebriation. "Abdicated or not, I expect you of all people to take the defense of Mavros with the appropriate amount of gravity required. Now off to bed with you, I'll see to preparing tonight for the morning. I thank you for the dinner Lord Mavros, now to rest these old bones." One last swing of mead from his tankard of sobriety, and a final spoonful of lentil soup. A simple man with his meals, needing no luxury nor great amount at his senior appetite, Kethan ate his fill of the Hero's Feast, fortifying himself for the adventure to come tomorrow. They have set their destinations, as all the information pooled created each team's destination. Though as the old cleric dipped his hands in the washing bowls and waved off the servants waiting to take the wizened one's to his chambers, Kethan took a side venture into the garden to walk in the mountain air. Eyes cast up into the night, pondering the stars and heavens for answers as to why. This cataclysm could be easily solved by the powers above if it were an ordinary invasion, and yet...

"Ah, Miss Lonett of Caernath... Rest well." Kethan nodded as he passed the monster slayer on his way to the Stables. He knew not the codes for their destinations, they get changed every few years, and it has been sometime since Kethan traveled outside his library. That and Kethan's memory was beginning to decay. The ravages of time and the function of age, and while Ada may forget her foolishness tonight by the morrow, Kethan found himself losing his recollections. The magical band around his head kept his mind decent enough, yet it was merely a crutch, one that he needed more than the symbolic cane he used on his evening stroll into the stables. Giving the owlbear a cautionary look before walking slowly down the corridor to find an emptied stable. There was a good chance they would venture there by foot. Or rather in this case by whatever mechanism of travel they had. Many among them had a fine steed, but Kethan took the long scenic route, stopping by to enjoy the local favourites and recall his days. Alas nothing was quite like the memory of itself nowadays. The times have chanaged, a decade ago the younger Ada would never be so crass as to publicly intoxicate herself. Perhaps Kethan had misplaced his trust in the ancient elf to keep his 'niece' from trouble, especially with that troublemaker... Jamie was it? The one from this morning that looked shifty, yes he would need to keep a close eye on him, although Jamie wasn't the rascal's name... Was it?

"Good Evening, Zaphkiel." The cleric of Ioun tapped his staff against the ground. Once, twice, and finally a third time before the celestial light bathed him. From the light, the spirit summoned, named by the Elder to be called forth from the heavens. A spirit taking the form of a white winged horse, an old friend Zaphkiel, one of Ioun's own. "We have a long journey tomorrow, Caelmarth, rest well old friend. The most powerful spell a mortal could cast, bending reality in nearly anyways Kethan pleased, although this time merely summoning forth a trusted steed to undertake the journey to Caelmarth with. The swift wings of his celestial mount would take Kethan there faster, although the others would have to find their own rides most likely. With his preparations complete, and a good bit of walking done to keep his joints loose and limber to keep up with the youth, Kethan finally entered his chambers, a comfort of bed and luxury. To refuse such down was to reject the bowl of lentils, thus such finery provided found itself carrying the weight of a sleeping old man. Uttering his prayers in the night in preparation to purge the undead alongside great heroes of legend.

Oh and something to cure Ada's possible hangover.

mechanics

Kethan Casts Wish: Duplicating Spell - Find Greater Steed.
Greater Steed: Koppatiai - Celestial Pegasus

Oh My Gods!

I await any reactions prior to posting again.

Stretchers, Stethoscopes, and Scalpels: A Hospital RP

Dr Zachary Lee Sinclair MD

Zachary Sinclair

Zac | Drac | "Z"

---

Zach

"Never trust a man who takes tea with milk and lemon"

---

CMH Personnel File

Name

Zachary Lee Sinclair

Birthday & Age

May/27/1988 | 29 | London, UK.

Gender & Sexual Orientation

Male | Closeted Homosexual

Other Labels

"Brit" | English | Agnostic | Moderate

Occupation

Neurology Senior Night-Float

Appearance

Dapper and debonair, whether in scrubs or a shirt & tie. Slim and slender, long and lanky, a runner's build on the lither side of sport usually helpful when running around the facilities on late night consult call. And despite his nickname, Zach's skin is far from the pale, coming in with a fair peach tone, combined with his expressive chocolate brows and quiff. The exquisite cheekbones, full lips, and defined jawline tipped with the slightest suggestion of scruff completes the tall, dark and handsome appeal in whatever he wears or isn't wearing. Although his steely grey-blue eyes gaze far deeper than most, looking past your optic disks and down the optic nerve straight into the brain to see the content of the mind. Perhaps it is these eyes and the highbrow that gives Zach his cerebral appearance. That or the sophistication he takes to meticulous grooming and attire, which merely add to the English Gentlemen mystique.

---

"It was many years ago that I became what I am"

---

CMH Psychological Evaluation

Personality

The Positive:

• Eidetic Memory
• Mild-Mannered
• Industrious

The Negative:

• Indecisive
• Detached
• Insomniac

Evaluation Observations:
Never seems to leave the hospital. Zac gives off the illusion of living at the hospital as a resident ought to. A quiet man of diligence and mystery, an unspoken intellect keen to observe rather than speak. A few quips of wit sardonically tossed in so casually that they are easily missed amongst the tea-fueled frenzy of his work. Maybe it is the accent that he carries that lends to him an exotic charm, a gentlemanly sort of proper-ness that calms the airs around him by knocking them down a peg every time he opens his mouth and speaks in RP. Zac is a private man, he never quite speaks his mind, and would rather talk about someone else's brain and few actually know personal information about him as he gives out so little in what time he has to idly chat about himself. Most impressive is his ability to seemingly remember every patient and case under his service with such an amazing degree of accuracy. He would make for a brilliant attending, if he wasn't so nocturnal.

Actual Personality:
The international man of mystery conceal his secrets well. Few staff see him leaving for his apartment, only to return in a few hours. Fewer still are the friends that know the man behind the passive act, understanding his need to compartmentalize. It's easy to put on the mask at work, carrying on with stiff upper lip, but the bitter crash comes at the cost of his psyche. His insomnia stems from both inside and out, stresses which he copes with by working over hours. The patients he can do nothing about, gnaw at his physician's guilt though he never lets it show to others. And of course his hidden sexuality, which he fears will get him ousted by the powers that be. He's worked long and hard, and won't risk everything for a moment of truth. So why not feign interest in the ladies that fancy him? Better over-brewed tea than no tea at all.

History:

Some were born with a silver spoon in hand, others had to earn it. Zachary fits into the former, born into a social class above, but embodies the spirit of the latter. Born a mongrel between a fair Welsh lady and her English business tycoon, Zachary Lee Sinclair came into the world as heir to the ancient legacy of Clan Sinclair. Not that such history matters, but certainly never going hungry on the streets and ample opportunities did. Yet despite all the grooming to take his father's small empire of real estate, hours of preparatory and years of being introduced to business partners, the boy took no interest in economics. Instead he graduated Oxford with sights set on the neurosciences finishing his forms before turning his attention to across the pond, much to the chagrin of his family. Wanting to get away from it all, Zach found himself accepted at the University of Michigan Medical School as an international student. Living in the states for four years on PR as he left his city of London for the collegiate Ann Arbor, his graduation conferred him the title of Dr. Zachary Lee Sinclair MD. Of which his residency program matched him to CMH and whisked the import to another side of the States, having barely kept in contact with his family back home through a series of emails and telephone calls. Neurology seemed to be the appropriate calling for him after three years, claiming the title of senior and being entrusted with the position of night-float due to his prodigious memory for better hand-offs. In two years, he may yet climb higher and become an attending past his fellowship.

---

"The world seems full of good men - Even if there are monsters in it." Bram Stoker

---

Off the Record

My Dreams

What are dreams even? Simulation of waking events occurring in REM sleep? Or desires of the self projected into the illusion of reality? The fickle nature of a dream makes the memory nothing more than a grasp at falsehoods. But if there was such a thing as a future vision, the idolized goal in life which all must stride forward to, for Zach it would be to return to his native roots. Living out of the UK, out in the Welsh countrysides in a quiet early retirement with a partner. A rather modest goal for all the work put in, but then again it is the journey that is often more amazing than the end result. It is after all such a complex pathway the signal must travel in the brain to achieve an desired action as simple as such waving your hand hello.

Fears

• Professional Failure
• Intrapersonal Rejection
• International Infamy

Likes

• Tea (Earl Grey), Hot
• Cacti & Succulents
• Fencing (Sport)
• Noodles & Pasta Al Dente
• Classical & Classic Rock Music
• Dogs
• Interesting Neurological cases

Dislikes

• Tea (Sweet American), Cold
• Coffee
• Sleeping
• Limp noodles & pasta.
• Bright sunshine
• Evangelists
• Cats
• Curbside consults

Reputation

Walking EMR & Neuro-Textbook and Possible Vampire or Zombie who never leaves the hospital

Stretchers, Stethoscopes, and Scalpels: A Hospital RP

It's the color code for Iced Tea XD

Stretchers, Stethoscopes, and Scalpels: A Hospital RP

@Dirty Pretty Lies

Done.

The original Color was Blood Red since Vampire Black was difficult to read...
Now the current Color is a joke.

Stretchers, Stethoscopes, and Scalpels: A Hospital RP

Dr Zachary Lee Sinclair MD

Zachary Sinclair

Zac | Drac | "Z"

---

Zach

"Never trust a man who takes tea with milk and lemon"

---

CMH Personnel File

Name

Zachary Lee Sinclair

Birthday & Age

May/27/1988 | 29 | London, UK.

Gender & Sexual Orientation

Male | Closeted Homosexual

Other Labels

"Brit" | English | Agnostic | Moderate

Occupation

Neurology Senior Night-Float

Appearance

Dapper and debonair, whether in scrubs or a shirt & tie. Slim and slender, long and lanky, a runner's build on the lither side of sport usually helpful when running around the facilities on late night consult call. And despite his nickname, Zach's skin is far from the pale, coming in with a fair peach tone, combined with his expressive chocolate brows and quiff. The exquisite cheekbones, full lips, and defined jawline tipped with the slightest suggestion of scruff completes the tall, dark and handsome appeal in whatever he wears or isn't wearing. Although his steely grey-blue eyes gaze far deeper than most, looking past your optic disks and down the optic nerve straight into the brain to see the content of the mind. Perhaps it is these eyes and the highbrow that gives Zach his cerebral appearance. That or the sophistication he takes to meticulous grooming and attire, which merely add to the English Gentlemen mystique.

---

"It was many years ago that I became what I am"

---

CMH Psychological Evaluation

Personality

The Positive:

• Eidetic Memory
• Mild-Mannered
• Industrious

The Negative:

• Indecisive
• Detached
• Insomniac

Evaluation Observations:
Never seems to leave the hospital. Zac gives off the illusion of living at the hospital as a resident ought to. A quiet man of diligence and mystery, an unspoken intellect keen to observe rather than speak. A few quips of wit sardonically tossed in so casually that they are easily missed amongst the tea-fueled frenzy of his work. Maybe it is the accent that he carries that lends to him an exotic charm, a gentlemanly sort of proper-ness that calms the airs around him by knocking them down a peg every time he opens his mouth and speaks in RP. Zac is a private man, he never quite speaks his mind, and would rather talk about someone else's brain and few actually know personal information about him as he gives out so little in what time he has to idly chat about himself. Most impressive is his ability to seemingly remember every patient and case under his service with such an amazing degree of accuracy. He would make for a brilliant attending, if he wasn't so nocturnal.

Actual Personality:
The international man of mystery conceal his secrets well. Few staff see him leaving for his apartment, only to return in a few hours. Fewer still are the friends that know the man behind the passive act, understanding his need to compartmentalize. It's easy to put on the mask at work, carrying on with stiff upper lip, but the bitter crash comes at the cost of his psyche. His insomnia stems from both inside and out, stresses which he copes with by working over hours. The patients he can do nothing about, gnaw at his physician's guilt though he never lets it show to others. And of course his hidden sexuality, which he fears will get him ousted by the powers that be. He's worked long and hard, and won't risk everything for a moment of truth. So why not feign interest in the ladies that fancy him? Better over-brewed tea than no tea at all.

History:

Some were born with a silver spoon in hand, others had to earn it. Zachary fits into the former, born into a social class above, but embodies the spirit of the latter. Born a mongrel between a fair Welsh lady and her English business tycoon, Zachary Lee Sinclair came into the world as heir to the ancient legacy of Clan Sinclair. Not that such history matters, but certainly never going hungry on the streets and ample opportunities did. Yet despite all the grooming to take his father's small empire of real estate, hours of preparatory and years of being introduced to business partners, the boy took no interest in economics. Instead he graduated Oxford with sights set on the neurosciences finishing his forms before turning his attention to across the pond, much to the chagrin of his family. Wanting to get away from it all, Zach found himself accepted at the University of Michigan Medical School as an international student. Living in the states for four years on PR as he left his city of London for the collegiate Ann Arbor, his graduation conferred him the title of Dr. Zachary Lee Sinclair MD. Of which his residency program matched him to CMH and whisked the import to another side of the States, having barely kept in contact with his family back home through a series of emails and telephone calls. Neurology seemed to be the appropriate calling for him after three years, claiming the title of senior and being entrusted with the position of night-float due to his prodigious memory for better hand-offs. In two years, he may yet climb higher and become an attending past his fellowship.

---

"The world seems full of good men - Even if there are monsters in it." Bram Stoker

---

Off the Record

My Dreams

What are dreams even? Simulation of waking events occurring in REM sleep? Or desires of the self projected into the illusion of reality? The fickle nature of a dream makes the memory nothing more than a grasp at falsehoods. But if there was such a thing as a future vision, the idolized goal in life which all must stride forward to, for Zach it would be to return to his native roots. Living out of the UK, out in the Welsh countrysides in a quiet early retirement with a partner. A rather modest goal for all the work put in, but then again it is the journey that is often more amazing than the end result. It is after all such a complex pathway the signal must travel in the brain to achieve an desired action as simple as such waving your hand hello.

Fears

• Professional Failure
• Intrapersonal Rejection
• International Infamy

Likes

• Tea (Earl Grey), Hot
• Cacti & Succulents
• Fencing (Sport)
• Noodles & Pasta Al Dente
• Classical & Classic Rock Music
• Dogs
• Interesting Neurological cases

Dislikes

• Tea (Sweet American), Cold
• Coffee
• Sleeping
• Limp noodles & pasta.
• Bright sunshine
• Evangelists
• Cats
• Curbside consults

Reputation

Walking EMR & Neuro-Textbook and Possible Vampire or Zombie who never leaves the hospital