Avatar of The Grey Dust

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5 days ago
Current Protip. Next time when some young punk challenges you to a boxing match, tell them you first have to beat Mike Bison/Balrog from street fighters.
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6 days ago
If you're happy and you know it clap your hands!.... Seize them and cut off their hands!
3 likes
7 days ago
A true Caesar salad is eaten piece by leafy piece by stabbing each lettuce leaf with a knife.
3 likes
19 days ago
It's Erection day in America! Go to the Poles!
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20 days ago
Don't forget to exercise your super American right to vote for whoever you want to ruin your country next. Who am I kidding... telling Americans to exercise?
4 likes

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It appears we aren't so much Gods as Demigods in most cases.




"It is settled then! We camp here tonight." A nod at the rest of the group as the warrior woman reached into her bag of holding to withdraw a set of handaxes. Taking one in each hand with the obvious intent of murdering a nearby tree. A tilt of the neck to either side came with audible pops, a roll of her shoulders, all in preparation to be the lumberjack. All she needed now was to wear plaid flannel and grow a gristly beard, and with her body she'd convince anyone she was a frontiersman, emphasis on man. Fortunately her feminine curves reduced the stark visualization, if only mildly so as her wet over-the-shoulder hair. Walking past the breaking group the Valkyrie headed towards the treeline, similar to the Anna and Harridan albeit "Prepare the camp grounds, pitch your tents ladies, I'll go grab us some wood."

Settling into the forest, no enemies were in sight, save for the trees themselves. Selecting one among them to fall, Alex began her work, undisturbed by the falling leaves as the tree's rebuttal against her strokes. Unwavering strength with each blow, splitting the bark hack by hack, the might of her honed body shining through the workout. With nary a sweat broken, the forest lost a tree, crashing down amidst the thicket with a quaking thud. Yet the work was not quite done as the female lumberjack continued to butcher the verdant corpse, splitting apart the trunk into a manageable pillar of wood. Sap like blood oozed and splattered out the axe cuts chipped away into the pith. Until at last it was finished, and finally the muscular woman found herself perspiring, a single tree was more effort than the witch or zombies combined. Wiping her brow off before hoisting the massive totem over her shoulder with a grunt, a feat of strength beyond lesser men with a burden of close to quarter ton, the barbarian zealot marched back towards the campground, axes freshly dripping of sap but their magic nature kept their edges still keen.

Returning to camp about an hour after her departure, Alex found her shield-brother grazing on the grass of this strange world. The trees were not so different, nor evidently was the grass as the Unicorn glanced at the haul of wood the Valkyrie carried. She'll need to cut it down to campfire size, a single tree trunk was quite massive, although perhaps the spearmaiden had ideas to make furnishings such as a table for them share meal with. Though there was a distinct lack of ale or mead to go around, perhaps the merchant had some? If she returned they would have to trade certainly, coin was no good in the wilderness, food and drink were more important. The cat-kin seemed more interesting however, another devotee of the divines, sure Mila had mentioned something but there was something admirable about a faithful servant that Alex could admire.

"You follow the Raven Queen then? I have heard of her. She is no goddess of mine. But she seems to be similar to Hel, among the gods I serve." A conversation started as the human set to work on restructuring the great piece of wood with her single handaxe. Between the rhythmic sounds of wood being chopped, the casual conversation between strangers forced together, "Where I come from, the goddess Hel rules the dread afterlife for those who fall of disease and age. Valhalla and Freyja's Field are reserved for those who died in glorious battle. I pray that one day I may be worthy of entering the gates of Valhalla." An quick explanation of Alex's understanding of her pantheon's afterlife policies. There were complexities beyond them, but those were for those higher within the ranks to explain to the lowly folk such as her. Even a Templar could not fully explain the cosmos, but was it not the truest faith to believe in something that may not even be true? "We are both women of faith, and I wonder, if the gods have brought us here. But I am no priest or seer, so I must ask of you if my thoughts may be true."

A few pieces chucked into a growing pile, plucked clean and stamped down by Adal in preparation. He was the only man for Alex, for truly they knew each other well so much as for him to prepare a patch of bare earth for the campfire. Touching the pile with his horn the flames ignited. The many uses of druidcraft, the fire crackling soon enough, and the half-hewn long-hall table set a few feet before the burning flames. Taking a seat by the fire to warm and dry the remains of her damp clothes, her hair slowly curling back into a wild tangle as the Valkyrie motioned the Cat-cleric to sit by the warm inferno of Muspelheim and discuss her thoughts.
Probably about right. He does have to eat a bunch. I'd imagine he's forced to be continually eatting... Never stopping unless he starts to eat himself...
@ScreenAcne

By nature Zhystkrexas is essential.

Hunger is a drive which motivates.
He is the necessary evil of the world.
Without an urge or impetus to want something more,
The world falls into a stagnation of stoicism.
Where nothing moves because there is no desire to move.
mortals would not eat nor drink nor breathe.
The very atoms would fail to react as they lose their atomic principles...
Causing all chemically reactions to cease to be governed by the simple need of electrons...

Edit: Of course without him the world is doomed to succumb into lawless chaos. And with him? All the same. The point is to satiate the insatiable such that he walks the fine line and keeps devouring but never quite swallowing his meals.
Thomas Richard Harrison

Location: Second Story (Not the book kind)
Interacting with: ???




One down. Struck dead by the arrow of Atalanta. Or Sana who embodied the legendary figure all the same, all she need now was to skin the dead beast and for Keystone to- Oh dear. What a mess, it seemed Keystone had taken quite a hit. But on the bright side Cyne seemed to be doing okay, or at least the undead hadn't quite risen yet to overwhelm them. That said Nor seemed to finish off the boar he rode on (like a proper dwarf) delivering quite the hair cut. All was well on this floor, and to the victors the spoils of ham and bacon. Holding on a bit of a breather as Thomas relaxed for a moment confirming the area was seemingly secure before remembering their party was split in half. Kyra and Satilla and Ash were still down below them, or at least for all Thomas knew down below, and not teleported magically into another plane from which they could never escape. Keystone would need Satilla's help with that bloody gash. Satilla had Kyra though right? surely they'd be okay. Thomas dreaded the thought of losing Satilla, as their group healer. That and honestly the boy had some fe-

And that's when the seizure hit.

Just as he turned towards the door to rush downstairs, the synapses fired. Something wrong, a march through the neurons, firing off inappropriately as his coordination failed him. His thoughts relinquished to the dark stars, visible as his visage blanked and eyes rolled back into his brows. His feet buckled, the cortex in disarray, the motions in discord, as if falling to grasp a golden apple from his path. But alas at the very last moment his body shifted, the cerebellar pathways jerking his body back as the vertiginous tumble was reflexively corrected. Caught in a state of near dreaming, unconscious as the magic in his blood overwhelmed him as he thought of earthly ties. His mortal coil displeased his astral brethren, who puppeted him so with their retribution. Acting him the fool as his body was no longer under his own control but theirs. A punishment from above, randomly plucking the tonic-clonic jerks as if Thomas was inebriated. Taken to the left, taking the wall, a spin, and a near levitation as his spine and head seemed to be lifted up into the right before his hands gripped his own hips. All of it culminated here, most shamefully, as the young sorcerer sprung his coiled knees out, thrusting the vacant air like some mad hip-hop artist.

There it ended as Thomas was ejected back into his own body, eyes returning to their normal gaze as a shock of what happened left him still light-headed and woozy. Wizards were weird, and Thomas so far was quite the oddball, at least as far as the party knew him. This wasn't the first time he, had reacted strangely. Falling down at last in the postictal state of his starry-space-seizure, Thomas' muscle stiffed with a paralysis, flooring him as small twitches signaled the reorganization of his circuits. Unable to quite talk or move for a moment.

At least Satilla wasn't witness to this.
With the system as it is, I found X difficult to justify.

Hence I went with the more fun of the two: Zhystkrexas.

Seems a bit convoluted but okay.

So how many abilities do we get?

Or is it 4 stat points, 4 ability points?
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