Posted by Macheath on July 14, 2000 at 11:48:28:

In Reply to: Re: A Role posted by Ulrikis on July 13, 2000 at 20:19:10:

> A damned fine role indeed. I am just now begining to learn how to use a role in such a way. If perhpas more people posted roles such as this, then others would also seek to improve their standards when fleshing out a character. Just wanted to say good job cause it takes no small about of work to come up with a role such as this. Hope to see him around.

> > <100%hp 100%m 100%mv> role
> > Your role is:
> > Added Fri Jul 7 10:14:37 2000 at level 11:
> > Roerich Gottlieb Klopstock Krumm was born eighteen years ago in the tiny village
> > of Aturi on the Day of Deception, thirty-fifth day of the Month of Futility.
> > And that is the story of his life.

> > Perhaps he had been intended for greatness. Perhaps fated for glory in war, or
> > renown and celebrity in some other worthwhile pursuit. Surely a boy born
> > squarely in the middle of the legend-making Month of the Dragon needed no
> > prophetic declaration of his own. Llorenthos, the famed 'Executioner' of the
> > Empire... the magnanimous Apostle Saerin... the almost obscenely dedicated
> > Leader of the Tower, Mijzu... Kantherion, the last paladin of the Iron-Bound
> > Gauntlet, fearsome and tyrannical Arbiter Lord... all of them were born in the
> > great Month of the Dragon, were they not? In fact, a great many of Thera's most
> > influential heroes and villains have their deepest roots in this noble month.
> > Roerich Krumm does not.

> > He was indeed slated to arrive in his mother's bedchamber on the sixteenth day
> > of the Month of the Dragon (or thereabouts) until she took dreadfully ill, at
> > which time a premature birth was induced by the village surgeon's attentions.
> > All in Aturi praised the doctor for saving the life of both mother and child,
> > and when she was well enough to dance, a lavish celebration was held in their
> > honor. The implications on a certain newborn babe's life to come went largely
> > unheralded.

> > Born on the last day of the Month of Futility, held from majesty and repute by a
> > tether of ailing flesh only a few hours long, Roerich's life began with a
> > festival.

> > Added Sat Jul 8 15:36:35 2000 at level 11:
> > -THE CLEANING WENCH-

> > At the top of the Seantryn Modan magic academy, housed within the awe-inspiring
> > Tower of Sorcery, a cleaning wench went about her job as normal. Tiny droplets
> > of sweat formed upon her tiny svirfneblin forehead as she dutifully mopped up
> > the chunks of flesh and pools of blood which decorated the Stairs to the Astral.
> > Flesh both mortal and extraplanar was strewn about by the failed conjurations of
> > the men and women of the guild on this, the uppermost floor.

> > Unlike most buildings, which expand outward or not at all, the Tower of Sorcery
> > continually adds new floors. Those who find themselves on Hemlock Road during
> > the pre-dawn are often shocked to discover a taller tower after such an
> > expansion. The conjurers' guild was just such a surprise. While Seantryn did
> > its best to 'grow accustomed' to its new Tower-floor, conjurers repeatedly added
> > a bit of spice to its life in the form of massive fireballs containing Ancient
> > Demon Lords materializing occasionally directly over the city's epicenter.

> > The svirf maid cleaning the Tower on that day had heard quite a splendid joke
> > about the guild, in a bar that morning, involving three angels and a homonculus.
> > She failed to see the humor in it, as svirfneblin are often wont to do, and had
> > plans to report it to the guildmaster as soon as he arrived. As she was slowly
> > descending the Stairs to the Astral, she planned how to approach the lofty
> > guildmaster. While scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain on the Stairs of
> > Acid, she quietly composed her opening greeting, and the first few sentences of
> > her meticulously planned speech were forming just as she finished the Stairs of
> > Faith. Working her way down the Stairs of Flame, she put the penultimate
> > touches on what was certain to be one of the finest extemporaneous briefings
> > ever heard, and it was quite finished as her wet mop met the lobby floor.

> > Only as her cleaning tool made the satisfying squishing noise of contact with
> > cold stone did she realize that in her preoccupied state of mind, she'd left her
> > mopping bucket at the top of the tower. Horrible enlightening realization made
> > its slow spread across her mind like a cold blanket. Without fresh water
> > renewing her mop's effectiveness, all she'd managed to do this whole time was
> > spread a disgusting trail of blood down the entire length of the tower.

> > Added Sat Jul 8 15:37:48 2000 at level 11:
> > -THE DEMON-

> > As the thaumaturgic circle suddenly snapped into place below Feeble's feet, he
> > shivered in anticipation of what was to come. He'd show his guildmaster his
> > true worth, and show the entire guild that he didn't deserve his ridiculous
> > nickname. Feeble had pilfered a scrap of paper with some terrifying-looking
> > symbols on it the night before. He'd no idea what it said at the time, but gold
> > could buy many things on the streets of Seantryn Modan during the twilight
> > hours. Finding someone to translate the chickenscratch hadn't been a problem.
> > Finding enough capital to pay the gypsy had proven more difficult, but she'd
> > grudgingly accepted half the amount originally requested when Feeble brandished
> > his dagger in her direction.

> > He smirked lightly despite his intense level of concentration. Keeping his eyes
> > closed, he began incanting the words the gypsy woman had helped him learn. It
> > was a powerful chant, a phrase capable of summoning a more fearsome demon than
> > his guildmaster had yet discovered. Surely THAT would impress the old crank.

> > As he finished the words, he found himself disappointed to have heard neither a
> > thunderclap nor the sound of a roaring Arch-Duke of Hades... but when his eyes
> > pried themselves open for the tiniest of peeks, he found himself face to face
> > with a terrible slobbering black-winged demon. Its huge eyes bulged outward
> > from its misshapen face, glowering at him in a manner which chilled his soul.
> > His knees quaked as the winged morosa demon grinned morbidly and arched its
> > horned wings over its head, stretching them to fill nearly the entire width of
> > the laboratory.

> > Suddenly, remembering the thaumaturgic circle of protection, Feeble regained a
> > small measure of his composure and demanded that the demon obey him. It
> > fluttered its huge, heavy eyelashes at him in what he could only determine to be
> > a confused blink. The zephyr stirred up by this massive motion of meaty demon
> > eyelids stroked Feeble's cheeks and forehead. And Feeble wondered why the demon
> > was turning to walk out of the laboratory. He took a step to follow,
> > overwhelmed by the discordant situation, and abruptly the demon rounded on him.
> > His last thoughts before being eaten were: 'Ah, yes. Darkbind. How could I
> > have forgotten? How very feeble of me.'

> > When the winged morosa finished its meal, it turned its attention back toward
> > what had attracted it to the stairway. The scent of blood was heavy there, and
> > it hungered for a corpse to sustain itself. If it couldn't find a corpse at the
> > end of this trail, it would merely find a way to make one when it got there.
> > Simple enough.

> > Added Sat Jul 8 15:39:43 2000 at level 11:
> > -ROERICH-
> > For the past several months, Roerich had been subjected to every kind of
> > embarrassment and agony fathomable, and some kinds which were simply
> > incognizable. Uncanny bad luck seemed to follow this undersized, underdeveloped
> > boy - barely into his teens - wherever he went. He was by nature small and
> > frail, a willowy youth at best. Around the time that his thrice-broken arm was
> > nearly burned off by a very close-by lightning strike (on a clear day,
> > nonetheless), Roerich began to suspect something. Indeed, he became quite
> > suspicious about the way fate had laid tragic events upon his doorstep, one
> > after another.

> > And so, finally, Roerich slipped away from his overprotective mother for an
> > evening, and warily picked his way along the road to the perilous city of
> > Seantryn Modan. There, he met covertly with a shamanistic woman of questionable
> > lineage in order to discover his predetermination. She gesticulated her way
> > through all manners of archaic, druidic, cabalistic, occultic rituals, finally
> > heaving her chest mightily with the effort and delivering a resolution with an
> > uncomfortable shift of her rump: Roerich had been blessed with a great vision -
> > a vision of unclouded truth. Within him lurked the ability to divine the bleak
> > sense behind all of creation, weave it together into a logical progression, and
> > understand what the gods had done with the world. Predictably, some gods of the
> > mighty pantheon were angered by such an unexpected development and thus, he had
> > been cursed as well. In order to expedite his demise and the disappearance of
> > his unrealized talent, he had been smitten with unthinkably bad luck.

> > After this chilling encounter, Roerich found himself stunned and wandering the
> > streets of Seantryn with no particular destination in mind. As he stumbled
> > along, his mind raced... how long could he survive, cursed as he was? Why had
> > he been given such a burden to bear, and what in the name of Asgaard was this
> > ultimate vision of truth he was supposed to be having? Eventually, and some
> > might say inevitably given his predisposition, Roerich found himself directly
> > in front of the Tower of Sorcery, staring straight into the gaping maw of the
> > mystical heart of Seantryn Modan. There, he was jerked from his nightmarish
> > reverie by a scream which made his blood run cold.

> > Squeezing its way through the front entryway of the Tower was a massive creature
> > with horns and wings, black as night with wispy tufts of shock white hair all
> > about its person. Hideously, it was busily stuffing a pair of tiny feet between
> > its jaws. Slowly masticating upon its sumptuous meal, the demon coolly regarded
> > Roerich, who found himself riveted to the street with fear. Thick tendrils of
> > fear, in fact, were forcing their way into his every orifice and invading his
> > already shattered peace of mind with a suffocating grip. The demon, having
> > newly supped upon two corpses, had no further need for sustenance. Instead, it
> > decided to save Roerich for later, bundling him up in its massive arms, and took
> > flight to the north.

> > Added Sat Jul 8 15:42:53 2000 at level 11:
> > When Roerich regained consciousness again some time later, he found that he did
> > not like his predicament. Sitting in a pitch black cave, his sense of sight
> > entirely deprived of input, he relied on his ears to sense what might be nearby.
> > He heard the light rustle of leaves mingling with the sound of crashing ocean
> > waves, together softly and sweetly underlying the filthy, rasping, rattling
> > noise of mucus-impeded breathing which seemed to gurgle out from somewhere
> > behind him. And then, a demon's voice abruptly sounded out. It was an
> > atrocious screaming sound, which seemed to come from a hundred parched and
> > bleeding throats all at once. At the same time, however, Roerich heard
> > perfectly formed words resonating inside his skull:

> > -*You'll make a poor meal, human.*-

> > That was it. That was the message that had come specially to Roerich through
> > nine circles of the Abyss, for which he had been abducted and much blood had
> > been shed. 'How perfectly fitting,' he thought. Roerich began to hope that the
> > demon would simply kill him, poor meal or not. It would bring him much relief,
> > and certainly, a little known runt such as himself would be missed by no one.

> > -*You are Roerich Krumm. I have heard the name.*-

> > Silently, Roerich screamed to himself. He could not have screamed out loud if
> > he'd wanted to.

> > -*You are blessed, and also very deeply cursed. I smell the taint upon your
> > soul.*- Roerich imagined he could hear the demon smirking in the dark, inches
> > from his own face. The demon's breath felt like a fist on his cheek. -*I have
> > made the decision to end your life for you. Are you pleased?*- For a moment,
> > Roerich's heart leapt with joy... and then cold reality set in. -*It will,
> > however, not be so easy as that. Inflicting suffering is sometimes much more
> > enjoyable than inflicting death. Particularly in cases such as yours.*- A
> > chuckle which sounded like snapping bones ground its way through the air. -*You
> > will die... but no time soon, I'm afraid. When you come of age, you may begin
> > to fear for your life. But after that, your death may come in the form of a
> > murder, or in the form of a falling tree. It may come in a day, or in a
> > century. When it comes, though, it will be... amplified by my touch. And you
> > may be assured that I will be there to watch and escort your soul to Hades for
> > an eternity of torment.*-

> > And then, just as Roerich began to fear that he might suffer either permanent
> > deafness from the demon's voice or madness from having its words planted in his
> > mind, the nightmarish creature was gone. It had not announced its departure,
> > and its leaving was accompanied by neither flash nor bang nor sudden rush of
> > air. Roerich took advantage of the unforseen stillness by lying down to weep.

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