Running... Running... Running.
Your life so profoundly expressed, torn to its very essence and purpose, to run.
From Love (Ickgil my life, my one and only...)
From Hatred (Slut! Whore! You witch you killed him!)
From Life (A cold chilly mountain cave, small flurries of snow lick your face as you huddle for warmth)
From Death (A small lowly street urchin accepts the hand of a man in black, and wanders of with him, past the city gates...)
You instinctively block these ancient thoughts, but the torrent of grief never ceases within a mind so wizened, so tormented
A drained lifeless body, pale and yet a glimpse of life still in his handsome features, a smile on the frozen face, a playful loving glint in his eyes, the eyes you fell in love with, cemented in time, and in the eyes of a young girl and her murderer of a mother. The Voices come stronger than ever.
Whore! A slap to the face, you crumple to the ground in the snow on a cold obsidian day.
Slut! Stones, each one imbued with different hate, different feeling, different rage.
Mistress? An echoing voice from the darkness beckons you.
Tramp! The hands grip you, drown you in grief.
"Mistress!"
one of your thralls snaps you out of your trance, you glance over and nod for him to continue. "The sun dips low mistress, and night is almost upon us. Shall we prepare for a raid?" He continue in his monotone, droll voice ("How pathetically weak, the thralls reflect the mistress do they not?" Say the Voices) You look upon your thrall, a male human from one of the barbarian tribes, and the three others you enslaved from the very same tribe, then glance down at your map of the Meandering Desert to select a target for the nights raid.
Stats:
Name: Ercassiel Turotstral
Physical:
Health: Perfect
Energy: 100%
Vampire:
+2 Strength roll
+2 Intimidation roll (Negated if subject is unaware of vampirism)
+2 Charisma roll (Negated if subject knows of vampirism)
Ability to ensnare thralls
Sunlight is detrimental to health and energy and halves bonus to all rolls
Must drink blood to survive
Garlic causes allergic reaction resulting in moderate paralysis if exposed to juices
Ability to regenerate lost limbs while sleeping, however energy capacity is reduced by half for a while after doing so
Aversion to all benevolent Religions, exposure known to cause burning of skin and intense pain
Swordsman:
+2 to rolls involving swords
Mental:
Mentally Disturbed: Grief / regret related
Magical:
MP 10/10
Spells
Ensnare Thrall: 5 MP
Followers:
4 Human Thralls, Poorly Equipped
Stronghold's
Outpost - Collection of tents and a well
Author
Topic: You are a Bandit Leader (Read 4009 times)