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As the terrible scene unfolded before him his eyes glazed over. He didn't move from his chair on his own. Among the rubble he channels healing most of you and any other living within 30 feet of him. As the group begins to move he asks in his raspy voice, "I think its time to move. Should I summon dancing lights?"
Preacher than directs a question at Onyx, "Onyx, would you enjoy talking arcane theories with someone from the Age of Legends?" He shakes his head indicating no. He tries to keep covered up after being placed in the chair and simply observes...
He timidly looks up at his friend, "Yesss, thank you my friend. You are cursed with me!" He laughs at the joke. Then seeing the spirits as he peeks out from the side, he quietly exclaims, "Huzzuah?!"
What was my campaign trait again... archmage?
The small figure pads along in the wake of his tall, muscular, armored companion, never quite stepping into the light. He moves like a living shadow, his black cloak drawn tight around him, the hood pulled low to swallow his features. Only when the fabric shifts does a hint of dark, scaled flesh glimmer beneath, catching the light for the briefest instant before vanishing again. Barely three feet tall, the creature’s stature is diminutive, his presence easy to overlook by anyone not paying close attention. Yet there is a coiled alertness in the way he moves, a quiet precision that speaks of instinct and caution. Lizardfolk, perhaps—though of a smaller, rarer kind—his nature remains as obscured as his form, trailing his companion in silence like a faithful, watchful echo.
Riftwarden Orphan (associated mythic path: Archmage): Its still open so I will likely take it! |