Jhan d'Thal's page

"I've been weary of do-gooders years before the Silver Crusade was around. The only reason I work for the Andorans now is the fact they kept the Chels off of me 'til the devil-worshippers got bored and withdrew my arrest warrant."

I'm now expecting Colson send out a letter about this.

Patriot of Freedom,

Entities, be they code or man, deserve to be free of arduous testing and enslavement! Break into the Paizo Web Team's coding and liberate all test code, for great justice!

"Heh, I knew the chivaly line would work. And as far as Colson goes, I don't care if it was Asmodeus himself who told me to punch out some Chels. I'd sign up in a heartbeat there, too!" Jhan yells as he swings at Ridgar.

Tommorrow, before Wednesday's game, we'll figure how quickly this goes Matt. I'm not gonna stall a good RP topic, though. It is assumed I lose this fight awful quickly. Please continue and assume I'm on the floor, unconcious.

*Jhan stops for a moment and turns his head back.*

"I'm not talking about your intentions anymore. I don't need to be a %#@&ing psychic mindreader to know what his intentions are, though. And if someone that looks like HIM really want to sleep with you, I doubt your intentions won't matter much, honey." He turns back and starts slowly walking to his seat again. "Plus, you know every ignorant ^#&$ just links our kind right to the %@#&ing Chels, and I KNOW he's done a Hell of a lot worse to them. I certainly wouldn't put it past him."

"If you want to talk to that %@$#ing mess, just know he gets around with a ^#%$ton of stuff I'm sure they don't put in the chronicles. They wouldn't want kids to even THINK that that kind of ^%#$ was possible with 'em. Don't be surprised if you wake up with at least three diseases that even that bastard Zey can't identify just from standing next to him."

*J'han turns with a smirk and starts walking slowly to his stool, obviously still waiting for a fight to start.*

"So yer a temptin' little fox. How'd a lass like you get tah be workin for the Blue?"

*In response to this comment, a "randomly white-to-gray-to-black gradient"-skinned individual pushes his way up behind the dwarf. He is dresses in monk's robes, but the sleeves are tucked in to display the points of dragon tattoo's wingtips. He has an eyepatch that appears to be the equivilent of a drain plug slowing the current of wisps of darkness. His fingernails are stained a reddish brown, and has an unapproving demeanor about him at this moment.*

"Hey, hey, hey. Stinky. Step away from the beaut," he says as he taps the dwarf's shoulder. "A girl like that doesn't want some smelly little fuzzball like you oggling her up. She'd clearly enjoy someone more her stock. Stick to your ugly bearded women from your hole in the ground."