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| Gurgurant the Bereft; (Work in Progress) | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sat Nov 15, 2008 5:38 pm (106 Views) | |
| Nevermore | Sat Nov 15, 2008 5:38 pm Post #1 |
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![]() [One of Gurgurant's more popular, widely known masks] Name: Gurgurant "the Mask" Gender: Male Race: Undisclosed; most likely shade or other unholy thing. Class: From what is seen, the authorities have narrowed it down to sorcerer, assassin, or warrior. They think. Alignment: Chaotic Evil Element: Darkness Secondary Element: Death Age: 31 Height Six-foot one. Weight: 167 lbs. Skills: Blade, Alchemy Flaw: Cruelty, Dark Secret, Masochism (to an extent; not physical), Paranoia, Derangement (to an extent; it's sort of inexplicable) Feat: Assassin Starting Equipment: - Longsword | - Cloak | – Detect Alignment~ He was startlingly thin, verging on anorexic. However, that wouldn't have been a surprise... Regardless, Gurgurant's alabaster skin contrasted greatly with his bright red hair, a trait he loathed but tolerated anyway so that he could be feared. Another distinguishing feature: pulsating nails and screws embedded in his skin shone malignantly in even the darknest night. They could be repulsed, he supposed, as weapons when he learned a spell to do so, but for now they were a sadistic decoration bestowed upon him at birth. He wore no mask, right now, but instead let his pale, kaleidoscopic eyes that seemed to watch time like one would see a path illuminate the world around him. "You are here," he finally breathed as from beneath the dying tree their came a spectral creature with a crooked neck and eroding flesh. It was dead, or had been once. Some Necromancer's voodoo had brought it back from the grave. However, before it could touch him with one decaying tendril of rotten flesh, Gurgurant spun and cleaved off the thing's head with a single strike from his longsword, allowing a malodorous aroma to waft into his nostrils. However, as the unholy blood that was shed from the flesh touched his black cloack (which was in turn ceremonially etched with crimson clouds to signify his status as an adolescent in his nomadic tribe, where all races pulsated into one community that travelled as brethren) and stained it, his anger became uncontrollable. Rage kindled in his body at how such an unworthy being had managed to dirty his attire, and though he was seething he whispered in a calmed tone, "I had hunted you and did not receive a challenge. The one who sent me on this quest will be doubly punished for such a thing." Removing his general spellbook from where it was hidden in one of the many pockets scattered about his cloak, he muttered an incantation that purged his garb of unnecessary bacteria and turned, leaving the corpse of a corpse to siletntly revitalize itself and continue wandering in search of a meal. |
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- Longsword |
- Cloak |
– Detect Alignment
7:25 PM Jul 11

