ArenaSnow

MTG, DnD, Need I say more

An intruder! Right, lemme just load up this ER-

Wait, cookies. Dammit. Alright... you can pass...

Murr!

Welcome ;)

Hey there...

Welcome ;)

Would you live with me?

Wha?

The Folly of a Felicitous Prince [CLOSED]

Mmm... to join or not to join...

'Edge of the World' Multiverse Tavern RP [Multiverse Shenanigans with Booze]

A few minutes later, Artholath stared at the inn from under the hood of his brown traveling robes after disembarking the odd carriage that had taken him there. An inn, of all things. He hadn't known what to expect when the fires of the archangel's blade had engulfed him; truth be told, he hadn't the ability to think anything at the time. Prior to that event, he could only speculate what rested beyond the realms of life. Either archangel blades had interesting teleportation properties, or he was in fact well and truly dead. An odd thing, death was. It didn't feel a bit different to him.

His human form seemed trivial, yet he remained in it for the sake of playing along, for he didn't imagine that a demon walking into an inn would be a common sight - even in the afterlife.

He needn't have worried, as the very first thing he saw upon entry was the true form of a demon that easily rivaled his largest cousins, a being that resembled a half-shifted dragon, and a creature that looked as though it had just walked out of the forests he had strode through what felt like a mere two days before. Of course it wouldn't be an ordinary inn. Such is the oddity of death, he thought in a way that seemed very wise in his mind. It made him feel better after he made the unwise mistake that brought him here.

Removing his hood, Artholath sat at a table near the bar, looking over the other guests. Some appeared to be mortal, and as he had observed earlier, others quite the opposite. Plainly, death didn't judge. Which was fine, he would. He couldn't stand the sight of humans anymore. Now, the demon was interesting, and obviously a high figure. He wondered how that one would compare to the other two he had been in service of.

He pulled out a small arrowhead with purple stains from the folds of his robes, staring at it for a while, contemplating it and his new state of death.

'Edge of the World' Multiverse Tavern RP [Multiverse Shenanigans with Booze]

Artholath

Name: Artholath

Age: ~1125

Appearance: Human-like with a tall, lean elven body stature, with pitch black hair and extremely pale skin. He wears loose brown robes of a traveller, and has deep, striking blue eyes. Concept image for true form. He has a notable long white scar on the inside of his left leg, regardless of being in human or demon form.

Personality: Cunning, curious and with a rather strong dab of cowardice "survivor's instinct", though he would never admit to the last one. He presents a marginally charismatic exterior but approaches all things with an idea and strategy, with little to no sense of loyalty - though he can be an effective mercenary if the task and end reward benefits him. There is little he is incapable of doing, few crimes he wouldn't commit, and few souls he wouldn't damn for eternity if it meant his advancement.

Powers or Abilities: Physically, his true form has many physical tools, including spikes, claws, and horns, largely tuned for combat and infused with a burning cold to the touch. His specialties are speed, lurking in the shadows and ultimately, assassination. He is particularly fond of creating ice spikes from his claws and manipulating the energy to form various shapes as he desires. He has a few limited spells, now useless, that allow him to cheat death at the hands of most enemies. Yet his death was not caused by "most enemies"...

Equipment and Weapons: His body and innate abilities are his primary weapons and protection; that said, he carries with him at all times a small pitch black arrow head with small purple stains upon it that has no apparent magical properties that he keeps in his clothes.

Universe of Origin: He has been to two realms in his existence, but his origin realm is best named Harrowmount. Both are easily summarized as relatively traditional fantasy realms including their own unique sets of demons.

Bio: Artholath was not born or spawned; he was created. His existence should be credited to a member of "The Warlords", a set of powerful mages in his homeworld that created many powerful magical things, spells and creatures... including a potent army of demons.

Artholath was not notable, either as a warrior, magic user or leader. Indeed, one could consider him the runt of the litter; weaker than most, referred to by the "favorites" as "little cousin" and given barely a passing glance from his creator. Others at his own level were typically skilled in special fields; Artholath was skilled at being blamed for sometimes ridiculous acts. No, his life was far from one of privilege in the ranks of his kind. Perhaps that alone saved him when the Warlords turned on his kind and imprisoned them all, while Artholath alone snuck away and wandered the world as his own were shoved down the gullet of a massive volcano and sealed in with spells considered unbreakable even by archdemons of other realms. But then, no being of that level has actually made the attempt.

For many years, Artholath had a dream to be the one to save his kind. He even came close when he found a human experimenting with much the same concepts as his own creators had. Alas, it was not meant to be. The human was eaten by his experiment, and his experiment was slain without much trouble at all. Trapped below ground, there was one way out - a portal designed by his own creators that lead to the cosmos. Seeing no choice, he entered.

What he found was another world, much like his own, with demons as strong as the best of his kind and a select few wiser and with more skill than even the Warlords. He learned things from two of them; he learned that there was much more to the nature of demons than he had imagined, and he learned tricks to preserve himself from all but the strongest of attacks. He used of them one, in fact, when confronted with a bit more than he could chew at the time. It was successful, but forced him to regenerate from scratch for several years.

Less than a year ago, he followed the path of one of those to defeat him. He discovered that his foe was dead and that the one to slay him was in possession of a blade more powerful than any in that realm; the blade of an archangel.

He followed the path of the blade's user, and the rest is history (that is explained in the next section).

Cause of death: It was simple to kill the blade's wielder in the night. What he didn't expect was to have his very energies incinerated by the blade upon physical contact with its hilt. The effect was so strong that it threw off any hope of split second escape or regenerating in the Abyss and sent him to the realm of the truly dead. Hellova way to go.

'Edge of the World' Multiverse Tavern RP [Multiverse Shenanigans with Booze]

Well shit, look what the death cart dragged in

Name: Artholath

Age: ~1125

Appearance: Human-like with a tall, lean elven body stature, with pitch black hair and extremely pale skin. He wears loose brown robes of a traveller, and has deep, striking blue eyes. Concept image for true form. He has a notable long white scar on the inside of his left leg, regardless of being in human or demon form.

Personality: Cunning, curious and with a rather strong dab of cowardice "survivor's instinct", though he would never admit to the last one. He presents a marginally charismatic exterior but approaches all things with an idea and strategy, with little to no sense of loyalty - though he can be an effective mercenary if the task and end reward benefits him. There is little he is incapable of doing, few crimes he wouldn't commit, and few souls he wouldn't damn for eternity if it meant his advancement.

Powers or Abilities: Physically, his true form has many physical tools, including spikes, claws, and horns, largely tuned for combat and infused with a burning cold to the touch. His specialties are speed, lurking in the shadows and ultimately, assassination. He is particularly fond of creating ice spikes from his claws and manipulating the energy to form various shapes as he desires. He has a few limited spells, now useless, that allow him to cheat death at the hands of most enemies. Yet his death was not caused by "most enemies"...

Equipment and Weapons: His body and innate abilities are his primary weapons and protection; that said, he carries with him at all times a small pitch black arrow head with small purple stains upon it that has no apparent magical properties that he keeps in his clothes.

Universe of Origin: He has been to two realms in his existence, but his origin realm is best named Harrowmount. Both are easily summarized as relatively traditional fantasy realms including their own unique sets of demons.

Bio: Artholath was not born or spawned; he was created. His existence should be credited to a member of "The Warlords", a set of powerful mages in his homeworld that created many powerful magical things, spells and creatures... including a potent army of demons.

Artholath was not notable, either as a warrior, magic user or leader. Indeed, one could consider him the runt of the litter; weaker than most, referred to by the "favorites" as "little cousin" and given barely a passing glance from his creator. Others at his own level were typically skilled in special fields; Artholath was skilled at being blamed for sometimes ridiculous acts. No, his life was far from one of privilege in the ranks of his kind. Perhaps that alone saved him when the Warlords turned on his kind and imprisoned them all, while Artholath alone snuck away and wandered the world as his own were shoved down the gullet of a massive volcano and sealed in with spells considered unbreakable even by archdemons of other realms. But then, no being of that level has actually made the attempt.

For many years, Artholath had a dream to be the one to save his kind. He even came close when he found a human experimenting with much the same concepts as his own creators had. Alas, it was not meant to be. The human was eaten by his experiment, and his experiment was slain without much trouble at all. Trapped below ground, there was one way out - a portal designed by his own creators that lead to the cosmos. Seeing no choice, he entered.

What he found was another world, much like his own, with demons as strong as the best of his kind and a select few wiser and with more skill than even the Warlords. He learned things from two of them; he learned that there was much more to the nature of demons than he had imagined, and he learned tricks to preserve himself from all but the strongest of attacks. He used of them one, in fact, when confronted with a bit more than he could chew at the time. It was successful, but forced him to regenerate from scratch for several years.

Less than a year ago, he followed the path of one of those to defeat him. He discovered that his foe was dead and that the one to slay him was in possession of a blade more powerful than any in that realm; the blade of an archangel.

He followed the path of the blade's user, and the rest is history (that is explained in the next section).

Cause of death: It was simple to kill the blade's wielder in the night. What he didn't expect was to have his very energies incinerated by the blade upon physical contact with its hilt. The effect was so strong that it threw off any hope of split second escape or regenerating in the Abyss and sent him to the realm of the truly dead. Hellova way to go.

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Edit: It appears the deed is done.