• Graded • Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Is Zipper the worst blackguard of them all? (spoiler alert: yes she is)

With the escalation of hostilities between Etzos and Rhakros, a series of small walled towns is being established as a network of early warnings and defenses against Rhakros' reprisals. Only the very bravest and most formidable of characters should risk themselves on the Witches' Wilds frontier.

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• Graded • Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Postby Oberan » Thu Nov 02, 2017 11:21 am

The 25th of Vhalar 717

Note: Zipper and I have given each other permission to 'godmod' each other's actions, and as such all 'godmodding' here has been read and approved by the both of us. We are partners in crime, just like Bonnie and Clyde, though minus the part where they get shot in the end.


“Shhhh!” Oberan hissed at no-one in particular, more than a little annoyed by the tugging at his bedsheets, the knocking on the walls, and items being pushed off of his shelves. They responded to his emotional state and general well-being, growing more restless and agitated if he felt under the weather. Hangovers were included in this. Thankfully, they stopped, and a moment of peace and quiet returned to the darkened room, causing the Mortalborn to sigh in appreciation. He needed his rest, if possible he wanted to get back to sleep for a couple extra breaks. Maybe he’d wake back up without a splitting headache and a feeling of nausea wrecking his stomach. The rest was short lived though, as after a few bits a potted plant on top of the closet slowly began moving closer to the edge, then dropping to the floor with a loud bang. The pot shattered in hundreds of little pieces, dirt strewn all around the room. As if it was a start signal, other items began moving as well, and the tugging at his bedsheets resumed --worse than that of any woman he’d ever shared the bed with. The knocking began anew as well, soft knocks, hard knocks. Sometimes a rhythmic rapping, sometimes completely random. They knocked on walls, on cupboards, on the floor, and on wood.

Oberan hid underneath his pillow, covering his face and ears with it in hopes that it would drown out the noise. It didn’t. If anything, he could hear a thunderous banging on the door to his room. Louder than the others. Harder too. He could hear it shaking in its hinges, straining the metal latch that kept it closed and locked. “Stop this damned knocking!” he yelled from underneath his pillow, tasting the cotton of the cover.

Little did Oberan know that some of the knocking wasn’t exactly caused by the spirits of mischief around and about him. That same source of knocking soon got rather tired of knocking and, per her usual style, went for the direct approach. If Oberan weren’t so bamboozled by a night of overdrinking, he would have noticed that the door to his room… slowly wasn’t. In a matter of moments, it transitioned swiftly from wooden entrance to rotted plank of wood to, well, it was now a door in the same way a dog was a wolf: a sad, domesticated caricature of a once proud thing.

And like an abusive dog owner, the source of the knocking kicked the once-door down.

This wasn’t right. Never in his life had he experienced such aggression and power from the spirits that seemed to follow him around. Not when he’d been furious, not when he’d been paralysed with fear. Not once had the spirits knocked down a door or any other piece of heavy furniture. Jerking up to an upright position --a big mistake as he felt the world started to spin-- Oberan could clearly see a young woman casually strolling over the sad remains of his door. He frowned, staggering out of bed, half-naked. It seemed that unbuttoning his pants had been too difficult for him last night (or had it been this morning?) which was probably a good thing considering there was an invader in his room. “Did you have to break down the fucking door?” he scowled, looking terrible due to the lingering presence of the booze. “The innkeep will be fucking pissed!” A frown. “And I’m fucking pissed too! Get the fuck out.”
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Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Postby Zipper » Thu Nov 02, 2017 11:23 am

[Note: Help, help, I am being coreced into this. I agree to be subjected to a specific power of the shinenegan sphere or whatever it's called.]

“Actually,” Zipper said, sounding as wonderfully pleased with herself as she seemed to be capable of. “The innkeep was the one that snitched on you. Service providers these days, huh? Not an ounce of fuckity discretion in this fuckin’ line of work.”

Oberan spat on the floor, a thick and green blob of mucus that tasted vaguely of the shit they served here instead of whiskey. “What did he snitch then? And who the fuck are you?” He glared at her, squinting hard. “Haven’t I seen you before somewhere?”

“No sir, we’re meeting for the first and last time.” Zipper… had spent time among too many drunks to play their ‘where did my memory go I swore it was just here’ game. She didn’t care whether he remembered the incident on the boat or not, only that she got what she wanted. “Shall we go down the list? She said you were, I quote, a public nuisance, not too fond of the bill, very eager to start bar fights and - get this part - made everyone dance for 5 whole solid fuckin’ minutes in hell. Ridiculous as a crone in heat, isn’t it?”

The man chuckled, looking quite surprised, not unpleasantly so if his grin was any indication. “I did? That does sound like me…” He stroked his goatee, staring off in the distance. “And what are you here for then?”

“There’s the long answer and the short answer, and I believe brevity is the soul of efficient sex.” To demonstrate, she took a step to the left and pressed her hand against the wall…

“Well, in my experience, the longer the-- What the fuck?”

Reacting to her touch, the wall lunged out at him like a huge, mould covered snake and binded him from chest to toe, a sudden fluidity that resolved itself into rigid shackles made of wall-stuff once again. She walked over him and rest her hand on the bed, and ether drew the wood to life, finding Oberan’s hands and drawing him down to be bound against bed frame.

“Hey Oberan.” Zipper said.

“The fuck is this?” he spoke, nostrils flaring, and struggling against his bonds. “Fucking mages with their fucking magic! Unhand me this instant!”

“For you? Let’s just call it ‘torment the naked prisoner.’” Zipper said, putting a pair of gloves back on; an ominous sign for anyone who knew her. “For me? It’s called ‘What the hell is Oberan the drunk?’”

“Firstly, I am half naked. I’m wearing pants. Secondly-”

“You’re not a mage, that’s been made abundantly clear. Unless some gloriously fucked up mutation has taken root-”

“You think you know everything there is to know about magic, girlie? I’ll have you--”

“Enough to know you ain’t one of us, one of us. No, you’re something erratic. Now, I’m half-tempted to make a generous donation to the tower with your name attached to the box, but they’re kinda cunts too-

“Erratic, sporadic... Suck my balls.” And with that the wall-snake simply released the prisoner, dropping him unceremoniously onto the floor. “I don’t have time for this bullshit, and I’m not in the mood either.”

Zipper was completely taken aback, but she rallied quickly, raising her hand with a quickly charged ether missile. She was starting to believe she should have brought Robin but… Complications, complications. “Not much of a mood gal myself.”

“You do look like a sour cunt, yeah,” Oberan challenged, rising to his feet, a bit of spittle on his lips.

“Eh,” Zipper said, before driving the full force of the half-charged ether missile into his leg. “No big argument there, sir cunt.”
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Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Postby Oberan » Thu Nov 02, 2017 11:23 am

The mortalborn cussed and swore, colorful curses aimed at the mage in front of him rolling from his lips. A waterfall of bad words that not even a thousand bars of soap could scrape from his tongue. “You fuckin’ bitch,” he ended weakly, unable to find anything more … imaginative. “I’ve just about had it with you!” If only the spirits would do something useful for once… but they were rather bashful among strangers, especially when watched. Grunting in annoyance he raised a hand to eye level, a threat she might not understand. He snapped his fingers with enough dramatic flare to base a play on, and a blast of energy rushed forth, tugging at hair and clothes. Apart from that, there seemed to be no immediate effect however. Oberan frowned, confused at the lack of shenanigans going on. By all means that should have worked… else it wouldn’t have activated in the first place.

“Performance issues,” Zipper sneered. “Happens to the best of us. I know no magic in Idalos that lets any single cunt both dominate a group of people into dancing idiots and-” her eyes narrowed. “Negate 3 defiers all at once.” And one etherist. She doubted even Torvyn could have done it as efficiently as he had. “To say nothing of the-” she nodded at the bed. “-that. Let’s start again, yeah? The fuck are you?”

He grinned slightly, taking her words as high praise. “I knew I’d seen you before! The boat, yeah? That could have ended badly for me.” Truly, he was quite glad the Sphere had been useful for a change. It wasn’t much of a weapon, and even as a defense mechanism it was only so-so. “Well then, you want to know what I am? Let’s play the guessing game. Three wrong answers and you’re out.”

“Sure, sure, sure, anything for my favorite cunt,” Zipper’s bright tone did not match her scowl. “I’ll go first. Let’s start with: do you know what flaying is?”

His own scowl matched hers. The word brought nasty memories with it. “I would hope you’re taking about the non-magical version of the word.” Neither was very pleasant though, from what he’d heard.

“I would hope so too - I met this nice shadow lady a couple of trials back. Real good with a whip. Some Vice-queen of Augiery or whatever called Odessa. Betcha she could-”

“Odessa?” The name did ring a bell. Vaguely, but still. A Vice-Queen, huh?

Zipper didn’t seem to hear him. “-flay the skin off the back from yards away.” She looked him straight in the eye. “That’s not the flaying I’m talking about.”

“Unfortunately so. How hot was she?” His stalling was not very subtle.

The effect used was picked by, and agreed upon by both myself and Zipper as the premise of the thread, therefore, no die was rolled.

45.When an affected person looks into a reflective surface, the mirror-image will climb out of the reflective surface. (Only one clone per person can exist at a time). Their personality is the complete opposite of that of the affected person, and they will be unable to be more than 10 meters apart from the affected. As long as the clone exists, the affected will have no reflection. (the clone ceases to exist after 3 trials, and the effect wears off after 3 trials as well)
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Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Postby Zipper » Thu Nov 02, 2017 11:24 am

“On a scale of 1 to 10, I would rate her around a rough gauge of I AM GOING TO FLAY YOU IF YOU DON’T SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU ABSOLUTE WASTE OF CUM-DERIVED POWER.” Would she? She despised addicts - and flayers, and their more institutionalized cousins the Aberrants, were junkies of the worst kind. Still, this Oberan fella was a rare breed… a thing clearly outside Domain magic. She wondered what Qualities she could dig out of him - unlikely, but she wasn’t a Transmutator if she didn’t try. Giving him to the tower was not an option, nor was handing him over to the Black Guard; it was the same thing, just with a few more steps.

It always went back to the Tower when it counted.

A rumour -several rumours, in fact- had passed around that the last very special specimen that those cunts got their hands on was spotted ravaging frontier towns.

What a waste of a good monster.

“Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I’ll shut up instead of answering your question then, eh?” He was taunting her still, the moron. Did he even realize what kind of situation he was in? She saw his eyes flitted around in their sockets, searching for a way out, no doubt, and watch them come to rest briefly on the glass window.

Her response, ever carefully considered, was to raise her hand and charge up a 2nd ether missile.

“Don’t need your legs, yeah?”
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Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Postby Oberan » Thu Nov 02, 2017 11:24 am

“I’d rather keep them, if you don’t mind.” His gaze went to the window again, and his expression changed to surprise. His reflection was walking up to the glass, carefully attempting to touch it with a finger, though it passed through instead. Then it stuck its hand through, and then the rest of its body. It was the same man from she had a missile aimed at, though this one was actually dressed.

“Please excuse my tardiness, I thought it best to put on a shirt first,” he spoke as he slowly walked over to the original, hands in the air. Oberan was baffled.

Zipper’s first instinct was the soldier’s instinct: sending her ether missile straight into the second Oberan’s head. His head exploded into a sizzling mess of scorched ruin, he fell to his knees, his ruined mess of a head smashing into the ground shortly after.

And then he vanished.
“Please, miss, it is prudent that we come to a truce. This acrimony is unbecoming of noble gentlemen and ladies like ourselves.”

Oberan still had his eyes on the window, and another doppleganger--or rather, the same one from before-- was exiting it a second time, shirtless now. Oberan himself --the original one-- wasn’t too sure what was happening, but one thing was certain: it was two on one now. While the doppelganger distracted the woman with his politesse and talk of truces, the mortalborn swiftly closed in for a punch to the jaw… which was stopped by the clone right before it could hit. “The fuck are you doing?!”

“Please, both of you cease this senseless aggression,” the clone spoke, loosening his vice-like grip. “I wish for us to reach a sensible compromise which will benefit all parties involved.” Oberan stared at his clone as if he couldn’t quite fathom what in the blazes was going on. This was supposed to be him, but it certainly did behave not like him at all! “I believe the lady asked us a question?” the clone spoke questioningly to the woman.
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Postby Zipper » Thu Nov 02, 2017 11:24 am

Zipper’s mind puzzled through every single possibility she could fathom, every single domain magic she had ever chanced upon, read about, or encountered in her time as a Caster for both the army and the guard - and that was her problem, wasn’t it? Even she could see it by now: the sum of the world’s wonders she could only conceive in the terms of a mage’s ether.

It had occurred to her that she had never met a God before. It also occurred to her that if this Oberan was one, if he was the standard by which the divine measured up, then Etzos would have long won their war of heavenly aggression.

But… Arcane nullification, duplication, puppeteering an entire tavern to dance, a yet alleged 4th incident where every blade turned to grass. What the hell was he? Some of these defied arcane principles-

There she went again

And what the shite was this posh clone talking-

She blinked. He was addressing her. Very politely. He had blocked Oberan’s first punch. Now he was calling for a truce.

… Was his shtick ‘eerily polite serial killer?

What the actual fuck was happening.

“Um,” Zipper said. “Yeah, I asked a question.” Sure, why not. Her ether was flexed, her guard was up. “What is he -you guys- really?”

“We are Audrae’s son--”

“Don’t tell her, you fuck!”

“Mortalborn reigning over--”

“Quiet!” The original Oberan tried to silence his doppleganger by kicking at him, but the clone dodged easily.

“This is either an incredible self-emasculating con by a pair of twins or-” Zipper smiled. “Ya know what, I’ll bite. What’s a mortalborn?”

“You happy now? She’s asking more questions now.”

“Every single time, Oberan. Every single time. There’s only one common factor to the crapfest you pull up: you get fucked by it too. Every single time. You ran, didn’t you? You ran from the boat because whatever hit us hit you too and-”

She looked behind her, half-expecting her clone to show up too. Nope. No such horrid luck.

“-What’s a mortalborn, friend?” she said, turning back to the clone.

“Mortalborn are the sons and daughters of the Immortals,” the clone explained, evading all attempts made by the original to silence him. Eventually, the first Oberan just gave up. “Half-Immortals, if you will.”

“Before you continue, do they have the-” She nudged an eyebrow at something below polite! Oberan’s belt. “The cocks and the cunts, or do they just regurgitate you all from star stuff.”

“They do fuck, yeah,” normal Oberan answered, rolling his eyes.

“Nope. I wanna hear it from him.”

“I can rephrase that in a less vulgar manner, if you wish?” the clone replied. “They do engage in acts of copulation.”

“Sounds like whale on cat action. Condolences to the kitty.” Zipper flexed her hand a little. The charged ether underneath was cramping it. “So all this - this still makes no sense. The Firelord commands the sun, sleeping Treid commands the moon, your alleged mother rules over shadows - but you have rule over... “ she paused. “Do you rule over inconvenience? Because you are the sorry master of that.”

Doppel-Bran gave a polite smile, though it did not reach his eyes. “Inconvenience… that’s a nice word for it. But no, this scamp here--” he pointed his thumb at the original “--is the mortalborn of Mischief. He believes his pranks are ‘funny’.”

“They are,” Oberan retorted. “For me.”

“Said nobody,” Zipper snorted. “Right, so… here we are. An immortalspawn and his clone in Etzos. In Etzos.” she repeated again. “I should waste you -pardon, not you-” she glanced apologetically at dopper-Oberan. “-straight away.”

“I would rather have you restrain yourself, miss,” the clone spoke, sighing slightly. “If you attack us I will be forced to defend myself. I can understand that you do not agree with his antics, and frankly, neither do I. However, I don’t feel like that is any reason to straight up snuff out his life. Immortal heritage aside, we are human too.”

Barely, Zipper thought, but she bit her tongue for now. “The son of Audrae shows up just as Naer Vice Queens ride into Etzos. What the hell are the shadows planning?”

Oberan shrugged. His clone elaborated. “We haven’t heard from our mother in … how long? Decades?”

“At least.”

“I’m afraid we don’t know anything at all.” He shook his head.

Zipper stared, taking it all in. “Three defiers,” she said again. Apparently she was really hung up about that point. She couldn’t even bring herself to say he nullified her too. “Just like that.”
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Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Postby Oberan » Thu Nov 02, 2017 11:26 am

Oberan grinned widely. “You better believe it. The limit to my power reaches far beyond your imagination.”

“Only if you’re lucky.”

“Shut up.”


“So it’s random?” Zipper asked. “How many times per day?”

“You’re not telling her,” Oberan hissed. “You’ve blabbed too much already. You want no violence? Learn to negotiate. As soon as she knows what she wants to know, she’ll attack.”

“As much as I dislike to agree with him, he does have a point.” He sighed. “Let us make a deal.”

“I’m listening.” Zipper said.

“Firstly, could you stop that,” he pointed at the crackling ether around her hand and fingers. “In return I can promise you I will stop any trick he tries to pull.”

“Secondly, I want to put on my clothes.” Oberan didn’t even wait for her consent, just walking over to the windowsill, where the garments were haphazardly thrown around. Most disturbingly was the fact that the mortalborn did not appear in the reflection of the room, nor did his clone. he gave the doppelganger a strange look, then began pulling on his boots.
“Why are you following me around? Go stand over there.”

“I can’t. I need to remain by your side. Anyway, miss, what are your demands?” the clone spoke, drawing the girl’s attention to the two Oberan’s and the window behind them. “We wish only to leave with our life--”

“--and all our limbs.”

“And that, yes.”

“No extra holes in us either.”

“What he said.”

“And give the Innkeep a hard slap in the face.”

“You can’t do that!”
He coughed in his hand. “Now, barring that last bit, is that agreeable?”

“It’s not,”
Bran interjected. “Put freedom in there too.”

“Shhhhhh,” Zipper shushed. “I’m thinking.”

“If that’s your thinking face, you’d better stop. It’ll get stuck.”

And maybe that was the final straw that broke the camel’s back, but the ether missile flared to life again, hurled at Oberan’s head. It bore a hole in the wall where his head was but a trill ago, and she threw a 2nd one, this time shattering the window, scattering glass shards all over the room.

She readied a third ether missile, but someone grabbed her hand.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” a chipper voice said. When Zipper turned around, her anger turned to confusion, then fear, then straight back to sheer rage. She was face-to-face with her own clone: only one that positively exuded radiance. “No violence in the bedroom! Please? Pretty please? We’ve been horrible to the decor.”

“About time,” Oberan grumbled, “I’ve been on the back foot for far too long.” Hopefully this clone would be as detrimental to the woman’s efforts of vaporizing him as his own clone had been to his attempts at not spilling secrets.

“Finally someone reasonable!” Oberan’s clone exclaimed. “Welcome, miss..?”

“O’Connor. Please to meet you.”

“Let go of me!”
But the clone would not budge for Zipper. It smiled its too-pleasant smile, the kind you see on the faces of recruitment posters prior to a war.
“Zipper, you can’t be rude. You gotta let them go out free into the world. Like baby foxes all grown up.”

“Baby foxes?” Oberan blurted out incredulously.

“An apt metaphor,” his clone nodded sagely.

“NO, IT’S NOT,” Zipper shouted. She charged an ether missle in her other hand and all but rammed it straight into the skull of her clone as she shot it forth, who smiled all the way to her messy death.

“Woah. Brutal.” Oberan’s clone wasn't as impressed, instead he looked disgusted, making a face of immense disappointment and disapproval.

“Yes, I agree.” said polite-Zipper, popping out of another shard of glass, her own ether missile prepped and ready. “Go free, young foxes! Go free! I’ll save nature with my life!” She placed herself in between Zipper and the Oberans. “Fiona Zippormaria O’Connor, I am a servant of the secret Ether, the flame of Emea. The dark ether will not avail you.”

“NO, DON’T YOU DARE. DON’T YOU FUCKIN’ DARE, YOU CUNT.”

“You,”
Clone-Zipper smirked the smirkiest smirk that ever smirk. She somehow made it classy too. “Shall not pass.”

Oberan had seen enough, and knowing that this probably was his only chance, he strode to the broken window, looking straight down at the street below. It wasn’t too far down… there was a crowd gathering, attracted by the destruction. While not ideal for a quiet escape, he could use it to disappear. Preparing to jump, a hand on his shoulder pulled him back.

“You can’t just leave her!” the clone urged, pointing at the battling Zippers. “She’s sacrificing herself for us!”

“That’s the point!”
he growled at his clone, then rethinking his strategy. “Look, if we don’t make use of it, her sacrifice will be in vain. And there will be violence. Lots and lots of violence! Also, she’ll just return anyway.”

That seemed to win the doppelganger over, though he still protested. “At least take the stairs. You can’t just go jumping out the window.”

“Yes I can,”
Oberan spat, dropping from the windowsill to the street below, not giving his clone a chance to stop him. A frustrated noise escaped the doppelganger’s lips, but he had no choice but to follow. The both of them broke their fall with a tight roll, quickly got back to their feet, and rammed themselves through the wall of people, the clone apologizing all the while.

A shard of stone lanced out at them, aimed to kill, only to be turned aside at the last moment by a second surge of either: a sign that the little clone spat above had moved far beyond tossing energy back and forth.

In the coming trials, a boatload other people --most of them guests at the same Inn Oberan had stayed in-- were reported to walk around with a twin of their own. Some people witnessed them crawling out from mirrors and windows, sometimes from the water’s surface, or from the blade of a knife. Demons, they called them, though most clones turned out to be well-mannered and polite --a sure sign they had come to drag the soul of their target to hell. People tried killing them, though they just popped back out of another reflective surface, causing some to desperately avoid every reflective object they could, sometimes reclusing to a dark room for several trials. Oberan meanwhile spent three trials in extreme annoyance as his clone did his utmost best to have him living a proper and normal life, thwarting all attempts at larceny, drinking, and mischief. He was more than a little glad when the three trials were over and the clone vanished into thin air.

And Zipper…

Zipper took it worst of all.
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Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Postby Pash Raj'oriq » Mon Nov 06, 2017 11:48 pm

Thread Rewards
Mmm. I did so very much enjoy this thread. Between Bran’s habitual mischief and Zipper’s mouth, there really was so much going on. Y’all crazy. I laughed a lot through this thread. Thank you.



Zipper
Points : XP:
15 | These points can be used for magic.

Fame:
-2 Public use of magic, -1 Destructive tendencies
Loot : Zapper, your adorable annoying clone for 3 trials. She seems like a winner.
Injuries + Overstepping : N/A
Knowledge : Skill Knowledge:
Transmutation: Ether Missile: Shooting to kill
Transmutation: Ether Missile: Firing consecutive Ether Missiles
Transmutation: Shapecraft: Twisting wood and stone
Transmutation: Pathway: Striking blindly far out of personal range
Intelligence: Getting a tip-off from a Foster’s Landing innkeep
Intelligence: Gathering available intel on a target before a confrontation
Intimidation: Inflicting harm to coerce obedience
Intimidation: Shouting down your attacker

Other Knowledge:
Mortalborn: Children of the Immortals
Mortalborn: Flesh and blood
Mortalborn: Possess their own personal Domain of power
Immortals: Reproduce the old fashioned way
PC - Oberan
Audrae: Immortal of Shadows
Oberan: Son of Audrae
Oberan: Mortalborn of Mischief
Oberan: Hasn’t met his mom in decades
Oberan: Possesses a a Mischief-derived power with randomized effects
Oberan: A Mortalborn of many unreliable powers
Oberan: Possesses the ability to supernaturally escape bindings
Oberan: Uncertain limitations to his power
Oberan: Cunt
Oberan: Has a very polite mirror clone
Oberan: A drunken scoundrel



Oberan
Points : XP:
15 | These points cannot be used for magic.

Fame:
-3 Clone catastrophe, -1 Destructive tendencies
Loot : Your clone, Antibran, for 3 trials. He seems chipper.
Injuries + Overstepping : Burned leg that will take several trials to heal.
Knowledge : Skill Knowledge:
Unarmed: Punch to the jaw
Endurance: Walking with a scorched leg
Acrobatics: Dodging an ether missile
Acrobatics: Jumping from a window
Acrobatics: Roll to break your fall
Acrobatics: Walking after a night of drinking
Endurance: Enduring a hangover
Deception: stalling for time
Stealth: disappearing in a crowd

Other Knowledge:
Zipper: Abrasive Mage
Zipper: very angry
Zipper: Wants to know about Immortals
Zipper: Her clone seems nice (<— LOL!)
Zipper: foul mouth
Zipper: Can shoot ether from her hands
Zipper: can turn the wall into bindings
Odessa: Vice Queen of Augiery
Odessa: the name sounds vaguely familiar
Shenanigan Sphere: Not an offensive or defensive ability
Shenanigan Sphere: Random
Shenanigan Sphere: Not really helpful
God Key: Loosens binds
Oberan Clone: Will answer questions truthfully



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Rakahi | Rakahi Pidgin | Common | Xanthean

Because of his Competency in Empathy magic, Pash exudes an aura of calm emotion that is always "on." While it's not strong enough to overcome extreme emotions and it also loses strength the more people he's around, it's still up to you how that affects your character in whatever situation we're in. PM with questions!
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Pash Raj'oriq
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Posts: 1207
Joined: Fri May 05, 2017 1:31 pm
Location: Where th' wind takes me.
Race: Biqaj
Profession: Tankbard
Renown: +315
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