In between clases
Sacrasm, Barbarian Rage Posting
Silverymoon in the Summer, Sandpoint in the Winter
English, Elven, Dwarven, Infernal, and Draconic.
Random Silly Facts
• Star Wars fan
• Reads Spider-Man comics
• Has read and collects all of Robert E. Howard's Conan stories
• Director of FRRR (Forgotten Realms Refugee Relocation)
• MMOs Played: SWG, WoW, Rift, Tera, GW2, TSW, Neverwinter
• MMOs Playing: SWTOR, STO
• Currently Playing: Star Wars The Old Republic
• Anticipating: Xbox One and Playstation 4
• All-Time Favorites: Zelda 3, Baldur's Gate, TIE Fighter
• Trish Stratus fanboy
• The original unapologetic Arilyn, Seoni, Aribeth fanboy.
• twitter.com/sirurza <- I actually use this btw.
• Uses Urza because he played Magic the Gathering in 1996
• No longer plays MtG. Continues to use it for consistency.
• Big fan of Forgotten Realms
• Likes D&D 3.0/3.5/3P/4.0, but won't play 4e Forgotten Realms
• Didn't play enough of AD&D, has played original D&D
• Plays Conan The Rolaying Game (D20, Mongoose)
• Prefers Star Wars RPG D6 by WEG over D20 by WOTC, Loves Saga edition
The Year of Pain (2007) (wtf Mrs. Marvel 2012!)
• One More Day
• Spell Plague
My take on Pathfinder RPG Clerics ( Mon, May 19, 2008, 05:18 PM )
A sunny day. Children laugh and play. The adults gather and celebrate their good fortunes. Harvest had been good.
No one noticed the stranger enter town. He walked to the center, disturbing none. The figure halts, he utters a dark word to his god. Town folk around him fall to the ground, dead and silence. Dark energy emanates from the figure, crackling the air like static [Channel Energy].
The towns folk look at the figure and the children fell silent. Their celebration and good fortune forgotten. Outrage begins to build within the townsfolk. Foolish courage fueled by fear prompts the less prudent into action, taking up stone and club.
The figure looks around at the gathering mob. Anger and hate fills their hearts. They curse and spit at the figure but none dare advance. The mob is silenced as the figure tilts back his head and laughs. A dreadful laugh. His hood slips back, it does not reveal his face, only his eyes. Those eyes.. those glowing yellow eyes.
The figure stops laughing and gestures speaking two dark words. The bodies of the dead begin to twitch and rise [Quicken Desecrate & Animate Dead]. Panic replaces courage, terror replaces fear. The dead have returned.
Smoke rises from the town. A lone figure walks the road. The children laugh no more.