Everest's page

Everest seems pensive. "A mechanical cult? That's... interesting."

He gestures to the statue of the hippogriff and jovially adds "But not as interesting as this fine specimen. My. What craftsmanship..."

Using his gleeful exterior as a front for his cold and calculating interior, Everest tries to get a read on entry points and cover areas in the museum in case a battle erupts.

"I was only leveraging my uniquely intimidating appearance. No need for congratulation."

"Good idea," Everest says, and checks his coin purse.

After the rumor mongering, he turns to the others, expressionless, and says "I'm not sure what sounds more interesting-- what do you all think?"

Everest takes the opportunity to flex, then admonishes them for mobbing him. "Please, children, save your admiration for later. You may scare my pigeon."

Everest picks up the ball without response and returns around the corner. Giving a searching look to the others, he hands the ball to the children. "Enjoy," he says mirthfully, and makes his way back to the group.

"Shall we continue?"

"My designation is Everest," he says plainly. "Nice to meet you."

"I am an automaton. My primary protocols include maintaining security networks, team dynamics, the live capture of perpetrators of infringement upon the law, efficient lethal take-down maneuvers and general social pleasantry."

"One moment," Everest says, and quickly approaches where the older children scurried off to, his expressionless visor scanning for them.

Not on my watch.

I vote that the we end up at the same place even if we are ostensibly heading to different locations.

Plus one!

"It's symbiosis," Everest says quixotically and then disappears into a crowd. Well, not quite disappears. The pigeon is quite visible for a few moments.

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

Everest stands up, brushing himself and the book off. "Oh, my."

Everest holds the book in one hand, and the nightstick in the other. Giving it a long look, he shrugs. The mechanical man watches both of the other recruits assault the half-orc with unchanging features, and then applauds the book and the rod together as they both give it their best effort.

"I will now attempt to bring about the completion of my mission parameters," he announces in an exuberant voice.

"I apologize if this brings harm to you," he says to the half-orc. "I can see where training and old wounds intersect-- there, across your side-- to make a particularly tantalizing target of opportunity and am very keen on impressing you through physical posturization."

"Again-- apologies. This may sting."

Favored target!

Melee Attack: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 5 + 1 = 25
Damage: 1d6 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 2 + 1 = 6

Farewell, acquaintances.

Sometimes connected threads can be very finnicky. Contact forum support and they should be able to help fix the thread.

Turning in his seat rigidly, Everest addresses the red-faced changeling and the drunken aasimar. "Greetings. My designation is Everest."

He holds the two-sided pencil out to them in two fingers. His face looks like it should be smiling, but it is still woefully blank. "While it's nature has significantly changed, this object remains a pencil. You seem to have an ocular abnormality; You are devastatingly inebriated. Do either of you request instruction or assistance on filling out your form?"

To Kvell:
He nods once. "My power supply requires sustenance on par with an organism of my size in order to remain fully operational. Poison such as alcohol will not suffice, however. A biscuit or other small, compact foodstuff is the ideal object for my needs."

Everest continues, his entire body still yet his voice pleasant and mirthful. "And it was no large expenditure of energy on my part. I'm simply following my Code of Conduct. I'm pleased to have been of service."

To Celenna:
"Ah! The very nature of my pencil has been changed. Interesting-- thank you. I apologize for accusing you of destruction of property."

"Either of those sound like plausible job security titles, miss. However, I must warn you that a pencil is not a suitable replacement for normal dietary nutrition."

Hazel's face turns slightly pink. Of all the things she'd expected to do today, explaining clothing cultural norms to a centaur hadn't been on the list.

"I agree with the young female on the topic at hand," Everest says flatly. "This explanation seems to fit well in-line with accepted societal norms in Absalom."

The mechanical man continues to coach Kvell. "Then, there, is previous employment. I assume the request is for your job title. I suggest using exaggeration to make yourself seem more important. For example, my last employment was as a traveller. I wrote down 'traveller.' For argument's sake, this is a bad example."

Everest slowly turns to stare at the drunken woman.

"I apologize. I do not recognize these speech patterns as language."

"Address. The form is asking for the code that denotes your domicile's current physical location, in example 661 E. Tavern Road."

He points a finger at the paper. "And afterwards, we are currently within the city boundaries of the city of Absalom. Traditional female garb is not required for the occupation of security personnel."

Glancing around, Everest seems on edge before flatly saying "Oh, my. We've become surrounded. Greetings, varied sapient species. My designation is Everest. Is everyone here applying for the town guard?"

Updated it.

"My apologies. I am not a thing. My designation is Everest. Please, refer to me as such in further conversations."

He sets his form out in front of him-- completely filled, signed and notarized entirely in extremely rigid penmanship. Taking a seat, he points to Kvell's paper.

"The first section, titled 'name', is for your name-- including middle and surname if applicable."

Celenna doesn't surprise him-- he turns and looks at her apathetically before answering energetically "Perhaps your olfactory glands have suffered internal error. I smell like leather and old steel, like a well-worn sword. This sentiment has been expressed to me before."

He turns his other pencil upright, holding it out rigidly towards the new woman. "You are in need of a writing instrument. The code of charity dictates that I must allow you usage of one of these pencils."

"Pardon the interruption, centaur. I have possession of two pencils and you are in need of one. The code of charity dictates that I must allow you usage of one of these pencils."

The man speaking is a tall, thin overdressed creature in strange full-body armor, a ragged longcoat draped over his arms and shoulders. A wide-brimmed hat paradoxically sits upon his plate helmet. A soft light-- perhaps from some sort of magical implement-- glows just behind his visor, illuminating nothing. He stands with perfect posture, despite the backpack hanging from his arm and the armor no doubt weighing him immensely. The word 'EV-ER-5T' is written across his left pectoral in wide painted stencil.

Everest holds out an armored hand, with a stick of charcoal flat on the palm like a salt lick.

He notices the entry of another mammal, no doubt the woman's male companion by its tone of voice, and directs his attention to the centaur. "The likelihood of a centaur being well-versed in the nuances of the common Taldane dialect is low. Do you request instruction or assistance on filling out your form?"

Everest wrote:

I'm not hiding that he's the CE assassin to my LN lawman.

Slayer is a very funny class that's all over the place, but they fit this character concept very well.

Say what again? It says you are LN, not CE.

And I am! He's the CE assassin. I'm a LN lawman.

I'm like a vulcan. A cold, emotionless vulcan with a longbow and a broadsword.

I'm not hiding that he's the CE assassin to my LN lawman.

Slayer is a very funny class that's all over the place, but they fit this character concept very well.

Almost everything but human. The mammals in this play-by-post are wildly varied. Must remember to study anatomy of Centaurs, Catfolk and Kasathlings. Locating arterial veins and nerve clusters as well as leverage points and soft spots is of utmost importance.

For... reasons.

... Deadly reasons.

It's so weird that the ARG says that Changelings are so short when their introductory article in Carrion Crown book one AND Bestiary 4 says their average height is five and a half feet.

Just bizarre. Or... illogical?

Here's a weird character for consideration. Everest, the android slayer. His language is law.