Dragos Vaako's page

there are evil people in Lastwall fighting off the hordes of Belkzen. But, if we have some priests who are willing, they could cast "undetectable alignment and that could work. Or, we could try and acquire rings or wands of undetectable alignment.

Confronting the dwarves sounds the most exciting, but would be the least strategic move at this time. I would welcome the challenge of fighting an entire citadel of dwarves, but it would not be secret, and we must remind hidden in the shadows until Tar-Baphon is released. But with careful practice, we could find the heirs of Tilernos and make them speak.

Dragos quickly downs his vial and closes his eyes. For a moment, the inky black fluid sits on his tongue. Then, as though with a mind of its own, it slithers down his throat leaving an oily slick that stains his lips. He grabs his throat as the oil blocks his lungs from pulling in air and collapses to the ground, mouth working in mute agony. His veins blacken with the oil and the whites of his cloud over.

Tiny liquid-black children flayed of skin claw and tear their way out of his body along the blackened veins. They grab hold of the ends of the wounds with tiny hooked hands and pull outwards and back, drawing and stretching the skin over his armor, pulling it completely free. One of the flayed figures bursts into flame. The dark metal of the armor glows white hot and runs like water over Dragos' thrashing form. Blackened blood oozes forth from the wounds, covering the armor in a slick patina that vaporizes in a thick mist that smells of blood. Two more flayed children burst from Dragos' eyes. They hammer and pound at his helm, cutting and reshaping the faceless helm into a perfect likeness of Dragos' face.

As the flayed ones work, they pull out various spikes and razors from their bodies and thrust them easily into and through the armor, clearly riddling the dark paladin's body with the metal piercings. Other flayed ones take Dragos' skin and pull it tight over his shield.

Their work nearly done, the children climb back into Dragos. Two through the holes in his eyes, and the others into his mouth and wounds. Each grabs the ruined flesh of his body with their hooks and talons and cruelly pull the wounds shut. A single flayed child remains behind, and fills four small glass vials with Drago's dripping blood before slitting its throat and contorting itself into a straightened pole.

Dragos breathes deep and stands from the ground, his tattered red cloak hanging from spikes rising out (and partially driven into) his pauldrons. The rest of the armor is an exact copy of his flayed body with every sinew and line of musculature exposed to see. It is covered with numerous and intimidating spines and razors that look more directed inwards than out. Clearly, they harm the wearer more than his opponent.

The helm is an exact copy Dragos Vako's face, with the mouth pulled into a beatific and sublime sublime smile.

Thank you, Dark Prince, for showing me your love and grace! Dragos holds out his armored hands, flexing and moving his body to get used to the new armor. I shall send many joyful noises to You this night! His voice is filled with wonder contentment as he returns to his seat at the table. He leaves red footprints in wake and his armor still glistens wetly in the candlelight.

Do any of these people have surviving heirs we can question? \

I like ABP

Ya, ion about halfway. I need to consider feats, skills, and gear

It would be a great mortification to suffer the effects of this vial. But, should I obey, I will have the chance to remove even greater weaknesses from this world.. Dragos ponders the vials before him and then nods. Aye, I accept. I will drink your vial.

I am a weapon. An instrument to bring mortification to the world. I only seek a hand strong enough to wield me. I care little for philosophy pointless speeches. Dragos keeps his seat curious to see what his summoners will do. Perhaps one will prove strong enough to hold his leash, if Tar-Baphon cannot from his prison.

ya.. i played DND 2e-3.5.

loved the heck out of Vecna and Asmodeus.

Shar was one of my favorite vilalins, while we're talking about evil gods. HEr and Moander for some reason.

The Dark Prince teaches us to endure mortification of the flesh, that we may be corrected and better appreciate our own strength and talents. Dragos sets his cup to the side. If you wish us to prove our worth, so bet it.

Dragos is in love with the grave knight. Seriously, wants to ask for pointers.

As you each take your seats and become acquainted, yet more "guests" make their way through the shimmering portal. This time, however, it is not quite what you expect. A retinue of skeletons clad in plate armor and carrying longswords and steel shields march into the extra-planar dining hall. Their bodies drip with gore and blood, leaving red-stained trails of grime in their wake. The move to encircle the entire table, turning to stand at attention upon reaching their destinations.

Then, a skeleton the size of a giant steps through the portal, crouching to fit. It is clad in armor as well, though its hands end in sharp claws that mark it as having belonged to something clearly other than a giant in life. Immediately behind it, strides a man clad in black full plate, the armor adorned with markings of silver filigree skulls with chains wrapped about them. His glowing red eyes survey the scene, before walking around the table, two more armored bloody skeletons flanking him, and taking a seat opposite most of those gathered. The skeletons that had accompanied him take up positions behind him.

Next to enter a moment later is a creature that is clearly a lich. It slowly walks around the table, never acknowledging anyone that is present. Its staff echoes throughout the chamber until it finally arrives at its own seat. With a wave of a skeletal hand, the chair slides out from the table, and the lich sits.

Strangely enough, the next pair of bodies to enter the chamber again to appear to be of the living. Two women enter, their clothes torn and in tattered rags, their arms clasped behind them in manacles. One is a raven haired human,...

Dragos nods to the assemblage. He remains calm, although keenly interested in each of the newcomers, and clearly marks their entry and where each of the bleeding skeletons stand. When the armored knight enters, Dragos eyes follow his every movement, clearly impressed with the figure's apparent martial prowess. As the necromancer sits, Dragos stands and bows to all of them. May the Midnight Lord bless you this evening. I am Dragos Vaako, a humble servant of Our Lord in Chains.

DM Jelani wrote:

Just want to say that Aleksei is probably going to be an a-hole most of the time, but that I'm not. Please keep in mind I'm RPing his character, but that I'll try to make it as unannoying as possible.

Steth is a CE Cleric of Rovagug; I'm an administrator for a chain of medical offices.

I think it's safe to say, neither of us are playing ourselves this game.

heh.. I don't know what you guys are talking about. I wear spiked plate armor all day and try to contact Cenobites for a living.

The way of the Midnight Lord, good Sir. Dragos smiles drinks from his cup of water. What is the Whispering Way? I have never heard of it.

Dragos nods politely to the aged man. Again, the Way is mentioned. I assume you speak of the Whispering Way?

Plain old Common is considered Taldane. Otherwise, your dialect needs to be noted.

do we get the dialect for free?

Like, guy from ustalav would get Varisian for free? Or do i need to pay for that through linguistics and brains?

also, what languages are we speaking? Is Taldane assumed to be common or.. something else?

i found a mistake when i was calculating my Perception. I corrected the error. I'll log in to Roll20 when I get honme. Work tends to frown on me logging into these types of things

hey, i just caught the stuff on background skills and alignment.

i'll adjust the skills for background skills tonightl, and i'd like to switch from CE to LE for alignment

Congrats! To all and good submissions! I really wanted to see everyone play

Stil interested

It would be an honor to bring about one who caused such wonderful mortifications to this world, yes. Dragos tightens the celise about his arm, a few fresh pinpricks of blood well up from where the device bites in to his skin. He shudders for a moment and then sighs. If it is true, I would be most pleased. Few in this world could be as worthy as he for my service. I will send many joyous noises to the Midnight Lord tonight to show him my gratitude.

He takes another sip of wine and finishes his plate of food. Once the cup of wine is finished, he switches to water.

What is the Whispering Way?

caught a mistake in my submission.

He has the Knight of the Sepulcher archetype. Nothing changes until level 5. so that's probably why i forgot it.

Dragos returns the polite bow. I, too, am curious to learn why I was summoned. The message said that I was to free someone imprisoned in Gallowspire. Perhaps, the Whispering Tyrant brought us to him,that we might release him?

A dark figure in blackened armor and tattered cloak strides into the inn. Dragos is an imposing man. He stands nearly six feet tall and walks with the sure grace and measured steps of a seasoned warrior. He has broad shoulders and thick arms, and he gazes intensely from beneath a dark helm. His armor is covered in cruel spines and razors. The plates and bars of his scale mail mold perfectly to the contours of his body and bend perfectly with his every movement like a second skin. Two celices are wrapped around each bicep, which are bereft of armor. Every movement reveals small pinpricks of blood. A spiked shield is strapped to his back and a long sword hangs from his belt.

Without speaking, he pulls his helm off and hooks it to his belt, revealing pale skin and piercing hazel eyes. His hair is a dark black gelled into severe spikes on the top of his head. The sides of his head have been shaved down to the skin, and the top of his hair grows down to a mane at his shoulders. He walks about the room and examines the silken banners about the walls.

Fascinating. The skulls are quite intricate. His voice is deep and commanding, but quiet. It’s the kind of voice that carries across a room without needing to be raised. It is the voice of a man who is confident and sure in himself. He is someone who can do great violence, or prevent it. Dragos’ eyes never soften as he surveys the artwork, despite his approval. Once he has has examined the work to his satisfaction, he turns on his heel and gives a respectful nod to the others in the room.

Greetings. I am Dragos Vaako. He seems unaffected by the tone of the room, although his hand never strays far from his sword. May you ever hear Joyous Noise. He nods his head again, it's not quite a bow, but not abrupt enough to be rude. He takes a seat at the table and motions to the ghostly servant to fill his plate.

Whew! made it under the wire!

Dragos Vaako reporting for duty!

He's an antipaladin of Zon Kuthon.

This is Daelric, Dragonofashandflame's character submission. Here's hoping I did everything correctly.