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<blockquote data-quote="The Patriarchy" data-source="post: 70869" data-attributes="member: 162">Before the words can settle, I step from the grave’s edge, my robe dragging through the sucking mud. Across the fog-drowned Restlands, a small figure stands upon the mound of fresh earth that will soon hold the Professor.The halfling claims the rise as if it were a throne. Platinum hair, unnaturally straight, falls like pale silk around a narrow face. His deep purple-shadowed eyes regard the villagers from seventy feet away, the distance kept like a moat between himself and their breath, their dirt, their ignorance.he rambles some schitzo garble that nobody understands, you think it might be intentionally elven at timesone of the pallbearers breaks the silence.“I’m gonna rip their dicks off and use them for fish bait!”The curly-haired slayer crouches like a hunting dog straining at the leash, black curls damp with fog. Beside him the broad-shouldered rogue shifts slightly, a light mace loose at his side, eyes flicking across the six men ahead.The other pallbearers close ranks.Across the field, Gibs’ face darkens. His companions move with him, hands dropping toward farm toolsThe fog tightens.Weapons are drawn.[USER=271]@Apollo Tenzen[/USER] [USER=1]@Memento Mori[/USER] [USER=544]@Schwarzwald[/USER]&nbsp; roll D20 and post combat strategyrolling for Rafaels card</blockquote>

[QUOTE="The Patriarchy, post: 70869, member: 162"] Before the words can settle, I step from the grave’s edge, my robe dragging through the sucking mud. Across the fog-drowned Restlands, a small figure stands upon the mound of fresh earth that will soon hold the Professor. The halfling claims the rise as if it were a throne. Platinum hair, unnaturally straight, falls like pale silk around a narrow face. His deep purple-shadowed eyes regard the villagers from seventy feet away, the distance kept like a moat between himself and their breath, their dirt, their ignorance. he rambles some schitzo garble that nobody understands, you think it might be intentionally elven at times one of the pallbearers breaks the silence. “I’m gonna rip their dicks off and use them for fish bait!” The curly-haired slayer crouches like a hunting dog straining at the leash, black curls damp with fog. Beside him the broad-shouldered rogue shifts slightly, a light mace loose at his side, eyes flicking across the six men ahead. The other pallbearers close ranks. Across the field, Gibs’ face darkens. His companions move with him, hands dropping toward farm tools The fog tightens. Weapons are drawn. [USER=271]@Apollo Tenzen[/USER] [USER=1]@Memento Mori[/USER] [USER=544]@Schwarzwald[/USER] roll D20 and post combat strategy rolling for Rafaels card [/QUOTE]

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