A red sky is cast over the city of Estark and from this sky begins to fall rain. Red rain stained with blood. What ill omens does this hold for its citizens.
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Originally commissioned through High~Light Studios
Devlin looks outside at the rain and pulls out a large bowl from somewhere in his clothing. He runs outside and begins to dance in the rain, catching the bloody mess and throwing it at buildings and at any passersby.
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The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving, control-freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sado-masochistic, capriciously malevolent bully.
A newcomer walks into the city. Something about him prevents the guards at the gate from challenging his presence. He is dressed in clothes that have clearly seen better days, and they look to be covered with the burns of ripped magic and spellfire. His face is uncovered, his eyes smolder, and his hair hangs down in rats and dreads, though it is surprisingly clean. Atop all this montage is a hat: tatty, wide-brimmed and similarly charred as his clothes.
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Never forget: there's always someone bigger, better and stronger than you.
Someone once asked me why, when I talk about House Dimir, I don't put the word "the" in front of it.
At the time, I had no answer, but it just came to me.
Do we put the word "the" in front of God?
Quote from Me »
Stupidity cannot be tolerated. Idiots thrive on the indulgence of society's "understanding."
Quote from Fenris »
PUPPIES AND BUNNIES!!
A Storyteller is not a GM. A GM is God. God is one of the Storyteller's little minions.
Quote from Me »
Everything I say is fully substantiated by my own opinion.
From its glow comes a youngish woman, human in appearance, bearing a rapier that seems to glow with its own inner flame on her right hip. She's dressed like a traveller, world-weary and experienced, but she scans the area with interest. Her hair is long and dark, swept into multiple small braids on the left side, gathered into a ponytail and left to trail down her back.
And yes, no incantatrix for you. Or anyone. That class makes puppies cry. Mostly because they are the former Big Bads who have been Baleful Polymorphed into said puppies. By you. Because you're an incantatrix.
Quote from Yukora »
This is Deraxas we're talking about.
Remember, the girl that just killed an aspect of herself before literally consuming her?
Yeah, I don't see her handling a pissing match in any way other than a duel.
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Yes mistress...
Quote from About epic-level D&D »
There are only so many epic, psuedonatural barbarian/blackguard half-dragon akutenshai vampire balor paragons they can throw at you, right?
Quote from Concerning breeding habits of humans in fantasy games »
I suppose it's true. Though the logistics implied in a human/Great Wyrm Prismatic Dragon pairing makes me shudder.
...Something tells me that even should all arcane casters in the world unite, that the Grease spell would NOT be sufficient.
Erynn woke up in House Shadonia. She stretched her arms and opened her eyes. What she found, however, will forever be burned into her retina. Draped across her body was the rotting arm of the Phyrexian bastard that had recently abducted her. Her screams were so loud that she could be heard throughout the entire House.
Within minutes, she was attended to, and members of the Boros Legion and Azorius Senate were called to investigate the strange phenomena.
The bustle of the city picks up dramatically as merchants, nobles, kings, and peasants from around Estark flood in. Everyone can feel the buzz and excitement in their bones. Festival is here!
There's money to be won and spent. Spectacular matches to watch and fighters to cheer on. Already the tents are rising up in the plaza and around the Arena. Soon the winter tournament would begin...
A red sky is cast over the city of Estark and from this sky begins to fall rain. Red rain stained with blood. What ill omens does this hold for its citizens.
M.R. NOT.
O.S.A.R.C.M.WANGS?
L.I.B.M.R.DUCKS.
Someone once asked me why, when I talk about House Dimir, I don't put the word "the" in front of it.
At the time, I had no answer, but it just came to me.
Do we put the word "the" in front of God? A Storyteller is not a GM. A GM is God. God is one of the Storyteller's little minions.
From its glow comes a youngish woman, human in appearance, bearing a rapier that seems to glow with its own inner flame on her right hip. She's dressed like a traveller, world-weary and experienced, but she scans the area with interest. Her hair is long and dark, swept into multiple small braids on the left side, gathered into a ponytail and left to trail down her back.
"Where is he..."
"I am in the arcane, and the arcane is in me."
Official Matron Mother of Clan Planar Chaos
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Deraxas, Dark Maiden of Shimia,, still oddly obsessed with a mindmage.
Within minutes, she was attended to, and members of the Boros Legion and Azorius Senate were called to investigate the strange phenomena.
The second explosion is even bigger, and nobody missed that one.
There's money to be won and spent. Spectacular matches to watch and fighters to cheer on. Already the tents are rising up in the plaza and around the Arena. Soon the winter tournament would begin...