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  1. #1
    It's what's for dinner daelrog's Avatar
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    254 (x5)

    A Tribute to Lost Fates

    The Arena Characters

    #1 Black Bart
    Arch-Lector
    Sword of Fate
    Van Horstman’s Speculum
    Shield of the Gorgon
    Barded horse

    Several years ago, the town of Rock Ridge (under the governship of Cumferenceberg) was attacked by the Mondologs- a fierce tribe from the north that marauded the village; burning their crops, pillaging their treasures, stealing their women, and raping their cattle.

    Sir Cumference did not sit idly by, and he despatched a new sheriff for the town. The sheriff was Sheriff Bart- an Arabyan who had been granted a Visa from the Department of Refugees and Immigrants. There was much controversy over this appointment, as the town of Rock Ridge were extremely xenophobic, and Bart had almost no experience as a leader.

    However, Sir Cumference's wisdom proved to be correct, and though Bart was treated at first with great hostility (especially from the Johnson clan), and Bart was able to repulse the tribe, through clever use of explosives, seducing a stripper, and rallying the village into action (and building a fake village).

    As sheriff of Rock Ridge, Bart is a charismatic law-enforcer, able to maintain peace, and raise a standing army at the drop of a hat (quite literally, for dropping one's hat is a gesture of a challenge in this village akin to the more common glove-slap).

    However, he is not above executing prisoners of war, despite the recent shifts in politics and laws, and has earned himself the nickname "Black Bart" for his ruthlessness.

    #2 Benge - The Shadow King
    High Elf Archmage
    Level 4
    Talisman of Saphery
    Folariaths Robe
    Silver Wand
    Lore of Death

    Only spell 2(Steal Soul) and 6(Drain Life) can be cast in combat, the only ones that do damage anyway. So thanks to silver wand I'll always get one of them. Only cast one of them a turn on two dice. Steal Soul has priority over Drain life

    -Benge the Shadow King is an Elemental that has been unleashed by a massive earthquake
    -He had been locked away for millennia by the High Elves after he nearly wiped out half of Ulthuan
    -Being alone for so long has left him totally insane
    -For all intents and purposes he is literally smoke with no true body to hit (explaining only being able to be hit by Daemons or Spells)
    -He does have a bodily shape and his face can be seen etc, it literally is black and the only thing of different color is his eyes, blood red they be lol.
    -To attack, energy literally erupts from him. Beams of red fly from the depths of his soul ripping and tearing all they hit

    #3 The Dark Lord of the Beasts
    Vampire Lord
    Lvl 3 Upgrade
    Sword of Might
    Nightshroud
    Crown of the Damned
    Talisman of Lycni
    Forbidden Lore (Beasts)
    Hunter in the Dark
    Summon Creatures of the Night

    Around three hundred years ago, he was a mere Druid, a hermit caring for the beasts in the wilds of Stirland, no bother to anyone or anything. But of course things changed (or where would the story be). It was an unfortunate Geheimnisnacht that found him that year, taking shelter against a storm in a small cave, his meager powers providing what warding they could against the evils that have always been said to roam on that night. Although his protective sigils kept roaming ghouls at bay, they could not prevent the ghoul's master from wandering in.

    When the dawn broke, it joined the whimpering druid. The next year was pure torment for the former druid, feeding off his former charges, and degenerating into a beast more dangerous than any natural animal. Over the following years, decades and centuries, he crawled his way back to a semblance of humanity and control, to accept his new existence.

    Where once his druidic powers were paltry, the centuries have honed them, enhanced them, and allowed him to expand his control over the undead to that of beasts.

    Swathed in a robe of hundreds of undead bats, the Dark Lord is nigh impervious to harm. They swarm any foolish enough to attack their master, usually giving him more than enough time to slay the foe; unfortunately their swarming protection occasionally blinds him to his enemy's location, preventing him from delivering the deathblow. (Counts as Nightshroud and Crown of the Damned)
    .
    #4 Standing Corpse
    Dark Elf Dreadlord
    Cold one
    Sea dragon cloak
    Shield
    Pendant of khaeleth
    Armour of Servitude
    Deathpiercer
    Additional Hand Weapon

    Standard equipment:
    Infinite hatred
    Hand weapon

    In a great battle many thousands of years ago the hordes of the mighty Chaos smashed into the lands surrounding it, not least those unfortunate inhabitants of the land of Naggaroth. One by one they fell, first the outposts, then the farms, then the towns, and finally the army reached the famed city of Naggaroth. Opposing them were tens of thousands of Druchii, clad in the traditional purple robes. Battle was met. For three days it raged, until the last, weary elves fled into the citadel. Then the pillage began. One by one the streets were destroyed, and one by one the civilians raped, killed, warped or even eaten. Finally, the horde reached the gates of the citadel. But the time spent looting had given the Elves a chance to regroup. Thousands upon thousands of screaming Slaneeshi devotees hurled themselves at the gates, only to be cut down by the massed fire. Then, a monstrosity appeared, an Avatar of the Gods. It roared, and with one mighty hand, smashed open the gates. With a second swipe it killed hundreds of defenders, and with a third, the commander of the garrison, Lord Kalto. The defenders fled and the beast raised his hands to the heavens and roared in triumph. But then, behind him, something moved. One blood-soaked elf stood up, and dragged himself over to Kalto. Picking up the fallen champions mighty lance, he called in a low voice. The beast turn to face him, and the lance smashed into him. Before the eyes of the beleaguered elves, the army of evil fled, leaving only the elf. History has forgotten hi name, his home, his rank. From that moment on he was Saro Sarath, the Standing Corpse.
    __________________


    #5 Grixis, Prince of Thralls,
    Vampire Lord,

    Frost Blade.
    Eternal Hatred,
    Beguile,
    Avatar of Death
    Heavy Armour, Shield
    Dark Acolyte.,
    Magic level +1 (profile upgrade)

    Grixis shook his head, and stared at the lamb in front of him. It was bound to the ground, braying and trying to escape. He made no attempt to arise, and recalled what he could. He..was in an arena, ran by...Lacrima. No..Lacrimosa! He had won, and..had..
    No.
    He had lost to that..Saurus!
    Thoughts of rage filled his head as he rose in anger. GAR ITZA!!
    Wait. Where was he?
    Grixis examined his surrounding, he was in some sort of temple, stone columns rising to the ceiling. It was free of blood, and golden tapestries hung from the ceiling. He was standing on an altar, a pile of ash heaped where he just lay. The mask must of saved him, teleporting him..here.
    His eyes passed over the sword that had seemingly avoided him. It was covered in frost, and had dug a good 3 inches into the pedestal it was resting on.
    The lamb was now desperate, realizing that the thing had awoken.
    "What an incredible sword" Grixis swung it round his body feeling its weight.
    "It's a gift to you, Orcy Ness" A female voice resounded through his head.
    "My name is GRIXIS! That name is weak"
    "Whichever, I have brought you here, and saved you from ultimate demise. You owe me"
    "I owe no one nothing!"
    "Wrong answer"
    Grixis felt the blade whip around and point to his neck, 1 inch away from his windpipe. He felt the chill pass over him.
    "Fine, I'll hear you out"
    There is an arena happening 15 leagues east of here, travel there, win the tournament, and we'll see where it takes you"
    "I'll think about it"
    Grixis looked at the lamb and licked his lips, he was starving for blood.
    The lamb looked up at him, eyes wide and scared. A wave of remorse washed over Grixis, it felt strongly human. He cut through the chain holding the lamb, and watched it leap into the sun outside.
    Grixis followed it, and felt the sun on his face, and stared at a trail of smoke in the distance. DINNER.


    #6 Falantor
    treeman ancient
    spites:
    murder
    netlings
    radiants
    lamentations

    Falantor forest was one of the most northerly deciduous forests, and it and the nearby town were viewed as one last haven before the wastes of chaos. this was because of the ancient spirits, who had made the forest their home, diverting the forces of chaos elsewhere, but unfortunately, they could not resist forever, and when a great chaos incursion began, the warriors marched into the town and forest, and began to burn them. As the flames burnt their beloved forest, the spirits fled to the centre, where they entered the great oak in the middle, animating it to fight against the evil warriors. amongst the burning trees, the warriors of chaos were killed and crushed by the great tree, the spirits making their own lethal attacks in addition to the shattering blows.

    By morning, all of the forces of chaos who had come to Falantor were dead, but the forest and town were utterly destroyed, leaving only the great oak, which now roams the old world, seeking vengeance.

    Falantor is (surprise, surprise) a treeman of oak, and his spirits should be represented by groups of dark shadows attacking his opponents.


    #7 Balloch, the Unknown
    Chaos Lord.
    Mark of Khorne.
    Juggernaut of Khorne.
    Chaos Armour, Shield.
    Glaive of Putrefaction.
    Word of Agony.
    The Beguiling Gem.
    Pendant of Slaanesh.

    After years spent wandering the chaos wastes, killing anyone and anything he encountered, Balloch has decided that to further spread fear and terror it might be good if someone actually witnessed his power and lived to spread the word. He heard of a new arena starting and thought this might be ideal, and who know he may find worthy foes and new magical items to enhance his powers.



    #8 Kibbles (Kibb)
    Arch Lector
    heavy armor
    barded warhorse
    van horstmann’s speculum
    shield of the gorgon
    sword of fate

    Kibbles the arch-lector strode down the road, his inordinantly cheesy items jingling in the wind. he came upon a poster for a no holes barred arena allowing all items and goodies.
    he quirked an eyebrow and grinned at the obvious opportunity to explain why such items are banned.

    #9 Brahthor Khaalin
    Vampire Lord
    Barded Nightmare
    Bloodline Powers
    Infinite Hatred
    Red Fury
    Dread Knight
    Magic Items
    Cadaverous Cuirass
    Cursed Book
    Crown of the Damned
    Balefire Spike

    Brahthor, despite his power and martial prowess, is only an acolyte serving another Vampire more powerful than he. Thus far, he has proven to be ferociously loyal to his master and Sire, but his position as an underling has become… unsatisfactory. Brahthor is well aware of his power, and the ambition within all of his kind is beginning to rear its head.

    Brahthor’s initial thoughts of betrayal were ill-conceived and swiftly discarded, but his devious mind has begun to weave a flawless and fatal trap that will soon ensnare his Sire. Brahthor awaits this day with barely contained excitement, eager to be the one that finally destroys his master.

    In the meantime, however, the opportunity to test himself against other worthy foes, and the temptation of riches to be won, has presented itself in the form of a strange and mysterious arena. Brahthor has donned his finest armour, taken up his deadliest weapons, and ridden forth on his most fearsome steed to do battle, ever certain of his abilities. He will win the arena, and be back in time to assure his master’s downfall…
    *

    The master reclined a little in his high-backed chair, regarding the female before him, “So, the whispers reached his ears, just as you said they would?”

    “So it would seem.” The woman smiled, “Brahthor rides to the arena, and to whatever fate awaits him there.”

    “Hmmm.” The master gave a small, tight smile. “You have played your part, then.” He reached to a side table, taking up an ancient, dusty tome shrouded in a scarred, black-leathered cover. He extended it carefully to her waiting hands, mindful of the power within it, “Your payment, as requested.”

    She sank in a low bow of thanks, “It is appreciated, sir. Now, forgive any doubts I may cast on your abilities, but I feel I must ask; what if Brahthor should survive this contest? This has been a profitable exchange, and I would not wish to lose so valuable an associate…”

    The master considered for a moment, “It matters not. I have plans of my own regarding my supposedly faithful servant. We shall just have to see which of us has been more… thorough.”

    “Well,” a smile graced her lips, “should you require my services, or those of my companions…” she hefted the pulsing, arcane tome in her hands, “this should more than guarantee them.”

    The master gave a low, harsh cackle that sent bats swirling amongst the rafters of his keep, “Well, if you are offering… perhaps there is one more thing you can do for me…”
    *

    Brahthor rode on through the night, a wry smile revealing his fearsome teeth. The animals of the night scattered before him, and no mortal dared face the darkness. Just in case there was one like himself abroad.

    The flight of those creatures amused him. He could chase them if he wished, and he knew there were none that would evade him. For now, though, he would conserve his strength for the arena, where there would be plenty of foes to hunt.

    He laughed into the darkness. The arena. It would be the turning point of his life, when the young acolyte he had been for so long finally showed his promise, and returned triumphant to his master… only to then topple him, and take his place.

    The victory of youth and ambition would be sweet. It was a prize Brahthor could barely wait to taste.

    Soon…

    The arena first… and then his Master. It was all so easy, for one of his kind. A peerless warrior, a cunning strategist, and a Vampire.

    The arena, his Master, and then… Well, then, he would be unstoppable.

    #10 Kruk the Raging
    Savage orc great shaman
    Level 4
    Boar
    Skull wand of kaloth
    Amulet of protectyness
    Biggeds kickin boots

    Spell choice order:
    Bash em lads
    Gorks war path
    Fists of gork
    Waagh
    Headbutt
    gaze of gork

    Kruk had been angry. Full of rage. Bursting with hatred and vengeance. Those pesky elvish buggers had ruined everything again, and yet for all his skill he could not kill them.
    basically he got so annoyed he started trapping people in his staff, but became constantly angry.

    #11 Kharleth Skinflayer
    Dreadlord
    Sea Dragon Cloak, Hydra Blade, Pendant of Khaeleth, Heavy Armour, Shield, Potion of Strength, Cold one

    Kharleth is a slave ship captain, looking for mighty warriors to row is ship as the last few have 'displeased' him.

    This Arena should give him the opportunity to enslave his wounded, and then, enslave the fools who watch him. Soon, they will be taking him back to his ship, covered in glory.

    #12 Krug
    Savage Ork War Boss
    Boar, Warboss Ironclaws Waaagh! Cleaver

    A bloody and brutal Savage Orc Warboss who goes straight to the point regarding the leadership of his clan, and how to run it with anyone who has irked him, imagined or otherwise, is kicking or punched to the ground, and dismembered for having the affront to annoy him.
    After raising his blood spattered axe, fresh from dispatching his last victim Krug looked around the castle wall tower, the evidence of a grisly fight splattered and laying about the chamber. His steadfast yellow gaze stopped on the doorway leading to the wall above the main gate, and without hesitation he charged towards it, raising his right foot to smash into the lock and with a deep crunch the door flew wide open, splinters of wood flying in all directions. The sounds of battle filled the room instantly and made Krug's stomach leap. A smile appeared on his face, showing his yellowed teeth in a menacing snarl.
    Three armed men stood shoulder to shoulder on the walkway, lowering their spears towards him in unison, in a attempt to block his further path along the wall, defending their comrades who were desperately loosing arrows towards the horde assaulting their gate. Krug bellowed, his deep voice booming out as he charged forwards, swinging his raised axe from right to left in a downwards slash. The axe cut through the first spear just short of the tip and with his forwards momentum carried on through to the middle man, striking where his neck met the shoulder. The soldiers Steel chestplate and chainmail neck guard offered no resistance, as his axe sliced through the man, exiting above his right hip, his armour not even slowing the blow down, cleanly cut without offering any resistance. The man appeared to pause for a moment, then blood welled out of his body, turning the flagstones slippery before he even hit the ground. Krug's momentum carried him crashing into the group, with the spears that should have rightfully pierced him deflecting away with contact, one showering sparks as it screeched over the blue daubed paint applied over his body.
    Krug brought his right elbow back, raising his elbow towards the man with the broken spear, who had dropped the useless weapon and was drawing his sword. Krug's elbow thudded into the man's chest, the sheer force carrying the man off his feet, as he flew off the battlements, a look of shock flicked across the man's face before he screamed out, flailing as he dropped towards the floor below, the screams stopping with a sickening, metallic crunch as he met his fate. The soldier to his left dropped the spear, drawing a knife out of his left gauntlet he then joined his hands, raising them and pushed against the wall bringing all his might into the blow aimed at Krugs Neck. Krug opened his right hand, his arm now drawn back and grabbed the man by his wrists, stopping him mid-blow, their heads meeting eye to eye just inched away. A look of shock crossed the man's face before Krug Smiled, and raised his head back, bringing it forwards into his opponent's face, denting his helm and flattening his nose. A spray of bright coloured blood flew out, and the man fell limp, unconcious.
    Krug looked to his right, still holding the man high, along the wall full of militia, the closest of whom had noticed him and were turning their bows towards him. Krug lifted the unconcious man up, and stepped forwards, swinging the soldier around in a arc, striking the first archer squarely in the chest, causing him to flip over the crenellations onto the screaming, clamouring greenskin masses below. Still charging forwards, with the unconcios soldier behind him, he swung him with a overhead arc, releasing him so he flew along the battlements, his armour adding weight to the blows against the lightly armoured archers, who fell about in disarray.
    Dissapointingly, the fight to the gatehouse was going to be easier than he imagined.


    #13 THE FLYING NINJA SKINK O' DOOOM!!!

    Skink Chief
    add. HW
    Blowpipe
    Light Armour
    Scout
    Blessed Mark of the Old Ones
    Dagger of Sotek
    Maiming Shield
    Glyph Necklace
    Gleaming Pendant of Chotec (Use ASAP, i.e round 1 if possible)
    In addition (non Arena specific items):
    Cloak of Feathers (Purely for fluff purposes only)
    Virulent Poison (Any opponant slain by the Skink in the Arena will be be open to permanent shame and mockery )

    #14 Lord Zapagap
    Chaos Lord
    Shield
    Mark of Khorne,
    Juggernaut,
    Bronze Skin of Zhrakk
    Crown of Everlasting Conquest
    Sword of Might
    Word of Agony

    Chaos Lord Zapagap gets angry when his models don't stick together! He goes into a RAGE!

    Lord Zapagap fights in the buff except for his shield and crown. He has extraordinarily tough bronze skin that gives him a 4+ armor save which keeps him from chaffing his nether regions when he's atop his Juggernaut.

    When Lord Zapagap flies into a rage because his models fall apart, the hair ALL over his body stands on end. It's downright disgusting and scares the bejeezus out of his enemies, even more than the juggernaut scares them.

    #15 Gorehack
    Daemon Prince
    Mark of Khorne
    Many Armed Monstrosity
    Un-natural Swiftness
    Axe of Khorne

    #16 Tzotzomatzin

    Blade of Revered TzunkiAura of Quetzl
    Blessed Spawning of Itzl
    Light Armor and Shield
    Cold One Mount

    Tzotzomatzin comes from deep within the jungles of Lustria. He is a massive beast of war that has been blessed by the Old One Tzunki, from his spawning to the weapons he wields. No one is quite sure how long Tzotzomatzin has been prowling the jungles of Lustria keeping the relics of the Old Ones safe, but he has been quite effective.

    He has mottled blue and green scales, and webbing between the talons of his hands and feet. If you look closely gills can be seen on the sides of his neck. He wields a massive sword carved from tempered obsidian as his weapon of choice, and his only thought to defense beyond his natural scales is a gold gilded shield adorned with the fangs of a cold one.

    Having survived one Arena, he has been sent to enter this contest of champions, for it is the mysterious will of the Mage-Priests that drives this hulking warrior.

    Last edited by daelrog; November 20th, 2008 at 20:05.
    I am heading off to the Peace Corps. It is bery likely I will not be back. Good luck to all of you endeavors.

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  3. #2
    It's what's for dinner daelrog's Avatar
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    Introduction

    Soft footsteps echoed down the azure, marble corridor. Hints of mint and saffron lingered in the air in snow white wisps of air. The air tasted of sugar and candy that had yet to coalesce. The little girl turned her head to the left and crooked it.
    “Hello Lute Player. Play me a song?”
    Resting his head upon the wall, the Lute Player twitched ever so slightly. He shifted his crossed, lanky legs. He removed his hands from the back of his head. The man’s face was hidden behind a wide-rimmed, black, floppy hat that covered his face as a veil, revealing only a clean-shaven chin.
    Lazily he set himself upright, and bent low to pick up his lute. He strummed a few minor thirds then paused for a moment. The man glanced up for one brief moment to look into the sky blue eyes of the little girl. His pale green eye shot back downward and began to play a soft, tune of discords a bright harmony.
    The little girl continued forward. Her arms waved to and fro in a playfully dramatic gesture. She was drawn over to a small little sound. “Laughing Fox, is that you?”
    Out from behind an ancient suit of armor the laughing Fox hopped into view. It appeared to be an ordinary, red, white-tailed fox save for its wide smile and incessant laughing.
    “Why are you here today? Do you want to play along as well?”
    Laughing Fox only rolled around laughing even harder, throwing its paws into the air.
    “Very well, you know you part little one.”
    The little girl brushed a single golden strand of hair from her eye left eye. She felt the soft, silky strand on her wrist as she moved it back into its place.
    She took but a few more steps until she was at a glorious set of doors. White alabaster carvings of heroes and villains littered up and down the edgings. It was not just that, but monsters battling one another, heroes who should have been companions, even friends felling each other on ancient blades. It was almost as if the statues were still fighting, almost moving yet not. One could stare at these doors for an eternity watching as the stories unfolded, yet never seeing one change.
    As she leaned her small hand on the doorway she heard silence behind her.
    “You as well? You are not welcome in my home.”
    A marionette dropped down from the ceiling, a tear drop painted on its face.
    “Do not be coy. We both know why you are here.”
    The puppet flew into the ceiling amongst the shadows. It dropped back down to reveal the same puppet, amber and violet checkers swirling around cherry and sapphire stripes. Its face, ivory and perfectly carved revealed a malicious grin.
    “Then watch. If you will excuse me then...”
    Before the Marionette could reveal its next mood she pushed the doors open and closed it behind her. She turned around to look at the stars, dancing brightly, leaping wildly around her. They all seemed the same at first, but her bright, blue eyes revealed their details.
    They were all so beautiful, yet so many of them were dwindling. So perfect, yet so lost, blindly following along their paths. The little girl could see as each path shifted and churned, crossed just briefly. The possibilities there, was endless, yet there was to be only one course.
    “You.” Her finger shot out and pointed to a bright spot. It stopped in mid stride and floated towards her. “Such a brave spirit trapped in a town that does not love him. Better than those whom he serves. Righteous and pure, yet so close to falling down, and down, and down, you will find your fate.”
    Her finger shot in another direction. “You.”

    So it was that an arena was started. One like no other, one that only those select few who were chosen would know of, and the world would be none the wiser.
    I am heading off to the Peace Corps. It is bery likely I will not be back. Good luck to all of you endeavors.

  4. #3
    gone fishin' avatar of khaine's Avatar
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    great stuff there!
    Avatar's Arena #3 let the games begin!
    The Outsider And Kae'Tyr-necron fluff

  5. #4
    ...or is it? Attila the Hun Jr's Avatar
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    Awesome write-up, but I don't think Standing Corpse is the latest version of Standing Corpse. I'm pretty sure he has a couple of minor changes.

    Who is fighting who?

    Quite a variety you've got: 3 Vampires, 2 Lizardmen, 2 Chaos Warriors, 2 Orcs, 2 Empire, 2 Dark Elves, a Wood Elf, and a High Elf who I'm pretty sure will win.

    Wait: His equipment states that he can't be killed, due to not being hit by the mundane AND the magic weapons; HOWEVER: WFB rules state you can't cast a spell into close combat unless the rule for the spell specifically says you can.

    There is ONLY close combat in an arena of death, and the only High Elf spells you can cast into close combat cannot harm individuals .

    Folriaths' robe, the talisman that says magic weapons have no effect ALSO says that the High Elf cannot perform close combat attacks (or shoot, but you can't do that either).

    A paradox! He cannot kill or be killed! Surely this character should be illegal?
    Last edited by Attila the Hun Jr; November 18th, 2008 at 00:13.
    Worshipper of Dice
    Last game: Victory Dark Elves vs High Elves & Orcs & Goblins
    WDL: Dark Elves:37/6/8 Space Marines:7/3/3

  6. #5
    gone fishin' avatar of khaine's Avatar
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    Atilla, while i don't understand the character at all, i recommend you go and read the arena rules.
    Avatar's Arena #3 let the games begin!
    The Outsider And Kae'Tyr-necron fluff

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    I hate Ultramarines RobtheGuru's Avatar
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    Magic is allowed aslong as you cast magic spells that can be cast into combat, of which, there are very few.

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    Senior Member tuxedo clank's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by daelrog View Post
    stealing their women, and raping their cattle.
    Love that line...love it.

    Black Bart sounds a lot like Sheriff Bart from Blazing Saddles. am I right?

    What, no dwarfs? Have you no shame?
    Last edited by tuxedo clank; November 17th, 2008 at 23:03.

  9. #8
    Sir Proofreader Deadstar_MRC's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by tuxedo clank View Post
    What, no dwarfs?
    You must be this tall to fight in the arena.

    Though how the Skink got in I'm not sure... he is a Ninja, though, so I suppose he just slipped past the guards.

    Great intro, good to see all the characters who've answered the call!
    Rabbit; Our Tau community has the talent of figuring out how to turn a feather into a timebomb. Macgyver would be jealous.
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  10. #9
    ...or is it? Attila the Hun Jr's Avatar
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    Sorry, I thought he wrote High Elf Magic, not Lore of Death. My point is invalid. He's also going to win, you know.
    Last edited by Attila the Hun Jr; November 18th, 2008 at 00:13.
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    It's what's for dinner daelrog's Avatar
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    No, in all honesty I doubt Benge will win. All three vamps have quite a bit of magic. Plus a couple of characters have natural magic attacks that shouldn't be affected by the talisman of Sapphery. We are checking into that right now tom ake sure that that is the case.

    I also updated your character. I couldnt' give you the biting blade because you already had a magic weapon. There is also nothing that can affect the deathpeircer that wouldn't also affect the biting blade in the exact same way, so it won't hinder Standing Corspe in any way.

    The way I see it going is rock, paper, scissors with the vamps, dameon prince, etc being the rock, the Shadow King being the scissors, and the arch-lectors being the paper. Then again, this is how most arenas work.

    Good luck to everyone and I will try to have the first intro up before I go to bed tonight.
    I am heading off to the Peace Corps. It is bery likely I will not be back. Good luck to all of you endeavors.

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