In the far north of Faerie lies the frosty city of NeverEnding, it's circular streets confusing the few tourists who aren't instantly mobbed by three-dozen beggars with silly accents upon arrival, before being serially assaulted by an assortment of irritating ninnies who've lost various magic rings, inexplicably got into debt with someone who lives halfway across the world, or discovered that their only daughter is in love with an insane old wizard.
That's now, of course, but in the days of the reign of Lord Nitwit Alligator, of course, things were different. I suppose things began going downhill with the Great Plague. It was terrible. People dying in the streets, burning carts everywhere, the police inexplicably herding people into ghettos for little or no reason.
The clerics were at a loss as to how to cure it. It was almost as if Tryte had abandoned them, and few had any clue what to do about it. Even the blessings of Dexter and the Order of the Ruddy Great Hand did not heal the sick. But in the darkness there was hope - for the mage Wizzlet The Somewhat Bemused scried, and looked into magic mirrors, and dropped raven's eyes into magic wells, and consulted with the trees and the birds and the earth-gods, and concluded that four ingredients were needed to solve this crisis: The underarm hair of a Lessor or Herbacious Backson; the pancreatic fluid of a Silverback Starloom Harpy, the toenail clippings of a vampire-count, and the foot of a Dire Canteloupe Ogre's +23 Wild Staff of Misgivings of the Oatcake.
And so High Grand Paladin, the Lady Anoin'Teth opened the Hero's Guild, calling forward every thug between NeverEnding and Lustin. She hoped to train enough heroes that they would find and bring these ingredients before it was too late. And from among them, came Our Intrepid Hero (tm).
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Roles to play available at present:
DM, minor NPCs - me.
Anoin'Teth, High Grand Paladin - Inyri
Lord Nitwit Alligator, Lord Protector of NeverEnding - Sabretooth
Felt-Tip Warts, Elven Ninny and toyboy of Anoin'Teth - Rogue Nine (by edict of the Quorum)
Dexter Indejungel, an offputting High Priest Elect and President of the Board of the Order of the Ruddy Great Hand - Samuel Dravis Esq.
Dimflaw, a very disturbing Monk of the Lingerie Psychosis - Master Archon
Ailing Bend, Lord Alligator's spymaster - Bee Hoon
Aditzi Snappyl, a purveyor of potions - Corinthian
Hollyhock Finkle, an extremely annoying gnome and not-very-good sorceror - Cyborg Ninja
Lino Lanu-Lee, a Valley Girl and sorceror who worships Cyalis Starknife - jmac7142
Our Intrepid Hero (tm) [Mylennia Quickbattles] - Tysyacha
Please post a full character sheet for whichever character you'd like - this is especially important for OUr Intrepid Hero. I reserve the right to reject you without reason.
I would like to become Lord Nitwit Alligator, Lord Protector of NeverEnding, if that is not a lot of trouble. o_Q
I would also like to know the full scope of this role and potential for career expansion.
The part is yours, sir. The character development options rely entirely on your imagination and mine.
I wish to lay dank and insigeuos claims upon Dimflaw: "A very disturbing Monk of the Lingerie Psychosis" - Please. If it is profibidal to you, of course, my good man.
Although, you may want to insight to me, of what exactly you mean by Lingerie Psychosis, whether it be a psychological fear, love, or D) Other, of said Lingerie. Does Dimflaw like to wear lingerie? Or does Dimflaw despise it? That is what I'm asking. Or as D) Other, would suggest, does Dimflaw like others in Lingerie....hopefully, and namely, females, if Dimflaw be male that is? Or does Dimflaw like (or loathe) Lingerie in general?
Or is the answer: Q) All Of The Above?
Our Intrepid Hero (tm)-- Mylennia Quickbattles, a tall Vikingtyp Lass who is quite good at STARTING fights, of course, but she gets very easily distracted in the middle of the skirmish and wanders off to go look at that butterfly in the distance or burst into a fit of dancing at the latest tune that she hears from a Bard (even dirty limericks). Mylennia is not stupid--far from it. She just doesn't see why her fights should have to take so long, by golly!
Age: Perpetually twenty-nine, by order of her deity Viril Youngblood
Appearance: What else do tall Vikingtyp Lasses look like, by Jove? There is something strange about Mylennia's looks, though--she has a tattoo of a jester's cap on her right cheek, acquired during one of her whirlwind romances with Flightypants the Farceur. He ran off, of course, but not because he didn't love Mylennia--he was just as distractible as she was!
Philosophy: "War is awesome if you win, and--wait, where was I?"
Best Fight: The only one she ever finished, with a big mammoth steak.
Worst Fight: The one against her fur underwear--always too tight!
Biggest Weakness: Mylennia prides herself on being not only chaste and unmoved by men, despite that one time with Flightypants, but also rugged, tough, and most of all, completely unwashed. Sweat, to Mylennia, is the land's greatest perfume. It helps her fight monsters (and people) off due to her not-altogether-unpleasant body odor. When she was born, an evil Faerie said that if Mylennia were ever approached by a conquering warrior and soapily scrubbed down by him like his steed after a very long ride, in every single place Mylennia ever had, then she'd be his bride and second-in-command. She considers this a curse, and hygiene is for wusses anyway!
Biggest Strength: Oddly, counting to 1,000 in 1,000 different tongues.
Favorite Bard Song: "There Once was a WHAT From Nantucket?!"
Most-Hated Bard Song: "Onward Pious People, To Heaven We Go Now"
Can Mylennia Dual-Wield Weapons? Yes, a sword and a stein of ale.
Theme Song that Plays When Mylennia Fights: "The 10-Second Waltz"
(Like her? :))
Dexter Indejungel, an offputting High Priest Elect and President of the Board of the Order of the Ruddy Great Hand - Samuel Dravis
YEAAAAAAAAAH
I would like to add that I reserve the right to, at any time, include a cameo by Drunken Skolbelcher, a small lizard who thinks he is a bard. You know, kind of like Mushu thought he was a dragon.
Drunken's performance as a bard is often impeded by vast quantities of ale.
Lord Nitwit Alligator
Name, Pronunciation & Etymology
Lord Nitwit Alligator, fashioned as Lord Nitwit Alligator, the Lord Protector of NeverEnding. Pronounced Lord Nit-Wit Al-lee-gay-tor, with the "tor" rhyming with "gore" and not anything else. The name is hereditary, derived from his father, Nitwit Crocodile, his grandfather, Nitwit Salamander, and so on. Other sources note that he did not, in fact, have a father and that the etymology is incorrect; the Lord's name, has in fact, no etymology.
Birth, Origin & Rise to Power
Lord Alligator does not belong to any common species; he is in fact a summoned creature. Legend has it, that hundreds of years ago, a lesbian faerie was banished from her land for practising arts most occult and heathen. Troubled for being not able to find a mate, she spent her days in Four Caves, a mountain region known for its trolls that speak incomprehensible languages, follow unusual customs and have trouble identifying each other, which has resulted in them referring to everyone as Anonypuss.
This witch, copied an illustration that came with certain instructions; namely to immerse the copied illustration into a Java Cauldron and boil it, to achieve what the Trolls called "Defecation of Bricks". When the witch did so, Our Lord was born.
After suffering considerable sexual abuse from the witch, out Lord was assisted by a furry bird and dropped in a nest, where he learnt the ways of the outside world and then slew the witch. He would then go to NeverEnding and organise a military coup out of thin air, destabilising the relative peaceful government with a corrupt, feudal regime.
He would also surround himself with female "paladins" and "spymasters". Having reigned for some 600 years, this is no doubt, a plural.
Our Lord Today
Today, Lord Nitwit Alligator is aged. He would be 50 in human years, and is starting to show signs of aging. He has become somewhat unconcerned, absent-minded, deaf and even slightly blind. Yet, his mind is razor-sharp, his courage infallible.
Appearance
Picture our Lord Nitwit Alligator, posing nude before the illustrious illustrator Illustra, his head held up heroically high, his fists on his hips, his feet in accordance with this aesthetic; one foot upon a stylish ottoman, the other upon another ethnicity.
We shall start by describing his face. Being reptilian, he has long, dark green hair. Their colour is similar to that of a lush swamp in a gay spring afternoon, after all its inhabitants have finished dumping their waste into the spoiled water. His snout, a foot long and showing off his garish, decaying yellow teeth, unbrushed since the beginning of time.
His facial hair - grey-black from age and dyeing respectively. A handlebar stretches around his mouth and off his snout, a glorious moustache for a glorious leader. A great goatee stretching well upto his chest emerges from below his lower jaw; a goatee envied by many goats.
His eyes, lizard-like, and yet very human; having not the coldness of his lizard heritage, but of his human creator. They inspire courage into friends, fear into enemies and indifference into indifferent people.
His body, covered in scales is meaty, thick and similar to that of an aloe vera plant. Shining scales that are brushed daily by his scrumptious slaves; they follow him to the tip of his thick tail, which has not only served as an extra limb in some occasions, but as an extra pleasure toy.
His hands and legs and muscular and large; glistening with sweat and well-experienced in war and combat, as can be seen by the scars and marks. His claws are sharp, but just soft enough to assist in his tender acts of copulation. Taking advantage of the fact that he; being a summon, can never contract the Great Plague, he does not refuse to maintain relations with many of his subjects.
But How Can A Summon Be This Intelligent?
One story states, that in frustration of having a seemingly innocuous mating partner, who did not respond to the witch, the old hag abducted a wandering young man and stripped him of his sentience (after stripping and abusing many other things of his) and imbued it in Alligator.
With an acute, cunning mind that is both inspirational and despicable, Lord Nitwit Alligator is the fearless leader of NeverEnding.
Some Quick Facts
Height: 5'11", usually augmented by a top hat or people's perceptions.
Weight: Forbidden to Measure
Age: Usually considered to be 665, while some people suggest that he is, in fact, over 9000 years old. These are the same people who blame him for cattle mutilations, Unidentified Riding Objects, unwarranted surveillance and a global conspiracy extracted through milkmen and salesmen.
Deity: Tryte
Biggest Strength: Sexy appearance that floors people on sight. Usually seen wearing nothing but a thong; but wears armour when necessary.
Biggest Weakness: Everlasting phobia of wildlife enthusiasts with a habit of ending their sentences with "mate" or using the (now forbidden) word "crikey".
Philosophy: "Feeeelowsssssofee? Now whatever is that supposed to mean?"
Name:: Aditzi Snappyl, AKA Gordon Shineman, AKA The Mad Potter, AKA Timothy McManstein, AKA Aras Da Aveis AKA Lord Kandear IronfistThe God-Emperor of Faerie, AKA Elizabeth Arcel, AKA H'kro Mon'kar, AKA Bronzebeard Dwarfaxe, AKA Apothecary/Potioner/Druggist/Herbalist/Healer. People got tired of guessing. He probably has at least several dozen more names, but those are the ones he's best known by.
Appearance: The light of madness shines in this man's eyes. MADNESS. Ahahaha!
Ahem. Excuse me. As I was saying, he's obviously quite loony, his face periodically scrunching up like he just smelled something truly horrendous. His eyes flit about like he half expects someone to leap out of the bushes with a dead chicken in one hand and a bloodstained axe in the other, screaming 'Blood for the Blood Gods!' This has not occurred yet, however. So he continues flitting. The man is skeletal and gaunt, with a tendency to rap his fingers against his knuckles. His hair is long and raggedly cut, except for when Elizabeth Arcel takes over, in which case it quickly gains a glistening, magnificent dark shine and long, luxurious locks.
Height: 6'7.
Weight: 120 pounds. When you've got at least four personalities with eating disorders, getting some meat on the bones becomes very difficult.
Age: Do you want his chronological age, his mental age, his biological age, or his spiritual age? We'll start with chronology. The Apothecary is some Fifty-Nine years old. Mentally...His ages hover somewhere between three and several thousand years. Biologically, he sticks somewhere in his mid to late fourties. Sampling his own stock has given him an artificially increased lifespan, in addition to various other side-effects. His spiritual age falls within the purview of philosophy, and Aditzi doesn't indulge. You'll need to come back when Aras or Gordon is around.
Deity: All of them, and none of them. Aras is an atheist, Aditzi believes in literally everything, and his other personalities run the gamut between. Kandear is probably the most noticable, believing that he himself is a God. Not just any God, but the Head God. The Big God on Campus. The God-King. The King-God. Whatever.
Personality: Oh boy. Which one would you like to start with? This could be a long list. Here, let me just sum it up quickly. The Apothecary has an unknown number of personalities, apparently only limited by the time it takes one to manifest and the time left for existence. Also, not all of them are male, and not all of them are human.
History: *Sigh* I hate my job. The interviewer is never appreciated, but this guy...he spills his beans about everything at the drop of the hat, and then when I come back to verify a few things, he changes his story completely. First a get the usual song and dance about him growing up in a small village, parents were killed in an orc raid, learned the healing arts because of his guilt, blah blah blah. Then I come back, and he tells me that he descended from the Heavens and is here to bring a righteous fury upon the Earth. And on my third attempt, he gave me a LITERAL song and dance routine.
Finally, I understand why my predecessor on this case drank hemlock. And arsenic. And probably some other stuff. And then stabbed himself.
According to eyewitness accounts, however, the Apothecary originated somewhere to the distant East. Certain parties insist his real name is Bertram Harmall, and that he developed his madness after inhaling too much mercury fumes while making hats. Or potions. The stories can't get themselves straight. He arrived in our lands somewhere between eight and fourty years ago and quickly set to work burning down the city of Sharisa while juggling a number of explosive potions while drunk on his newest Cure-All Poison Treatment. He was quickly banished.
Trouble seemed to hound him, as he showed his penchant for harsh justice, finding a pair of hoodlums vandalizing a sign with clubs. After repairing and re-painting the sign a bright crimson, he left his now-notched axe embedded there to paint a grim picture of what would occur to troublemakers now that God walked the Earth. However, these reports cannot be confirmed and I have received no comment from the Shaledeep City Guard about the East Crossing Murders.
He seemed to make a positive impression upon the people of the small town of Willowsby, curing an epidemic that was sweeping the city while simultaneously restoring order to the town. Willowsby officials were unavailable for comment, but I received a message from the governors of the various afterlives that they had, quote 'Not forgotten the Apothecaries' contribution to their present state.'
It is unknown what brings this madman to NeverEnding. Perhaps this is simply where his wanderings have taken him. Perhaps he believes his unique brand of Street Cleaning Justice is needed. Or perhaps his incredible alchemy skills will be put to good use. No matter what his dream is, he's probably going to forget exactly what it was as soon as he arrives.
Biggest Strength: He's absolutely bloody brilliant, with an I.Q. that varies between 50 and 200 depending on which day it is, and who is in charge. He probably knows everything ever about Alchemy and a lot of other stuff, but it'd be pretty difficult to check.
Biggest Weakness: He's absolutely out of his gourd. He has several dozen personalities with none of them apparently dominant, and almost all of his personalities have their own psychological issues, ranging from catatonia and tourette's syndrome to overpowering homocidal urges, dementia, and schizophrenia of all different kinds. That's right. Some of his personalities have extra personalities.
It gets a bit crowded up in his head.
I'll take Hollylock Finkle, an extremely annoying gnome and not-very-good sorceror if the gnome is still available. If I can have the part I'll edit my post later today with the character sheet.