Reijingu Feza's page

"BAH! Too much talking! The strength of a true warrior is in their ability to fight. May your battles be glorious and your enemies defeats bring the attention of Our Lord in Iron!" opines a scale-mail clad bird-person. "Let the fires of war be the judge of your character!"

"Hopefully there will be the chance for GLORIOUS BATTLE! Our Lord in Iron be praised! WILL YOU FIGHT?"

"Is it TIME TO FIGHT? REIJINGU IS READY!"

"Grand Lodge promised lots of Order. Liberty's Edge promised a chance for most GLORIOUS fighting for OUR LORD IN IRON!!"

My monks are all about the ragin' furor!

"GRARRRRRRRR!!!!"

"Our Lord in Iron calls us to battle! Staunch your wounds and grab your blades! Those who are blessed will carry the day, those who are not will join him in glorious battle on another plane!"

And last but not least I have no idea what this is..

"You want the Pie? You can't HANDLE the Pie!"

The barbaric tengu snorts a bit as Kraww moves over, drinking more from the mug and watching the Lodge for worthwhile adventures to go on...

"WARK! Institutionalized racism if you ask me. WARK! Are you going to eat that green, bloodshot eye? WARK!" Kraww asks of a patron in regards to their drink's olive.

"No. They can't handle the tengu."

The metal-clad savage bird gets an ale from the bar and tosses some of it back.

"Gah. Not orc blood-beer. It'll do."

The tengu glances over at the skald and his eyes light up...

"Buddy, that's a lot of stones. You a follower 'f the Drunk? 'cause if you ain't, y'should prob'ly 'pologize t' the Cap'n. Y'don' spit into the wind an' y'don' cut on Our Lord in Ir'n's steel. If it was my place, 'd shove y' into th' kitchen an' have you doin' the cleanin'. Just sayin'."

"Level, little one, is earned with combat or skill on the Society's missions. Your newbs is at 'one', from what I've heard. Core is muscle building technique working on center body!"

Couldn't resist.