Full Name |
Xastur |
Race |
Great Old One |
Classes/Levels |
GM/ You Don't Need To Know. Move Along |
Gender |
Male, Female or Other? |
Size |
Varies with my diet. |
Age |
Ageless |
Special Abilities |
Ensnaring Twisted Plothooks, Babbling Inanities, Vile Cuteness, Spew Forth Irrational Non-sequitors |
Alignment |
Bah! Morality and Ethics do not apply! |
Deity |
Agnostic |
Location |
Beyond Space. Beyond Time. |
Languages |
English, a little French, some German, a touch of Latin and a smattering of Rongorongo |
Occupation |
Cosmic Overlord/ Student |
Strength |
123 |
Dexterity |
456 |
Constitution |
789 |
Intelligence |
999 |
Wisdom |
0 |
Charisma |
18 |
About Spawn of Rovagug
A vast and incomprehensible intellect housed within a small fleshy bi-pedal vessel, the one known as Xastur (not to be confused with He Who Must Not Be Named, if merely for legal reasons) has long sought the elusive mystery known as 'meaning'. Still it quests in its spacious (if barren) domicile located upon the slopes of an imposing mountain, surveying all who dwell below as the insignificant sheep that they are (Mmmm, lamb).
In its alter ego, the unassuming yet mercurial carbon mammal known as <censored for your sanity>, it peruses the infosphere looking for tasty morsels of esoterica it can join to its conglomerate being. Delighting in its discovery of the occluded group known as "roleplayers" it has found numerous unsuspecting and all too willing victims to fuel its hunger, merely by assuming the role of Game Master.
"I'm like a drug. Your first hit is free, but after that, you gotta pay."