@SilverSilver Considering on my first day of DnD I rolled three nat 1's in a row and almost died, lol... I'd like to try a coin flip with Enri, please! He's got a bit of lore in his bio. :D
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TOPIC | Roll a die, get a surprise! [PINGLIST]
@SilverSilver Considering on my first day of DnD I rolled three nat 1's in a row and almost died, lol... I'd like to try a coin flip with Enri, please! He's got a bit of lore in his bio. :D
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=31651353]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/316514/31651353_350.png[/img]
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@JourneyThePanda
Magnanimous rolled: 12
You get: a limerick
Here yearns a dragon who loved the stars,
Yet transfixed by earth, he fell from Mars.
On the tallest spire,
He does strum his lyre,
Though he kinda wishes it was a guitar.
[emoji=tundra tongue size=2]
@JourneyThePanda
Magnanimous rolled: 12
You get: a limerick
Here yearns a dragon who loved the stars,
Yet transfixed by earth, he fell from Mars.
On the tallest spire,
He does strum his lyre,
Though he kinda wishes it was a guitar.
Magnanimous rolled: 12
You get: a limerick
Here yearns a dragon who loved the stars,
Yet transfixed by earth, he fell from Mars.
On the tallest spire,
He does strum his lyre,
Though he kinda wishes it was a guitar.
@SilverSilver
That is so intriguing!
I'd like to roll a die for my shy amber girl
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=27014355]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/270144/27014355_350.png[/img]
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@Calibris
Troubadour rolled: 13
You get: 3 random headcanons
Troubadour rolled: 13
You get: 3 random headcanons
- Having grown up with a demonic heritage, Troubadour has had to deal with a number of… what most dragons would call curses. Foremost (and most notable) among these is the fact that he cannot speak as most other dragons do - he is forced to speak in rhyme. While he’s a fair hand at remaining legible - perhaps even sophisticated - given enough time to prepare his thoughts, casual conversation is his worst enemy. As a result, he tries to go out of his way to avoid talking to strangers.
- Troubadour does remember the events around his death and harbors a deep resentment of Mephistopheles. Nonetheless, he’s accepted that he probably won’t ever be able to do anything about it - and, hey, he’s a demon already, so being dead could probably be a lot worse. He tries to put his frustration to other uses, such as letting ants into the pantry and kicking over trash cans. You know, low-level petty evil.
- Troubadour is always luminescent from the hellfire bottled within his skin. He does have the ability to control how brightly it burns - although he can’t hide the effect completely. He can’t do much to control any other kind of fire magic; that was an ability he only had when he was alive, and these days he can only really use the same abilities with shadows as most other demons. He swears up and down that it doesn’t matter. Have you ever given someone a papercut under their talon? That’s way worse than any burn.
@Calibris
Troubadour rolled: 13
You get: 3 random headcanons
Troubadour rolled: 13
You get: 3 random headcanons
- Having grown up with a demonic heritage, Troubadour has had to deal with a number of… what most dragons would call curses. Foremost (and most notable) among these is the fact that he cannot speak as most other dragons do - he is forced to speak in rhyme. While he’s a fair hand at remaining legible - perhaps even sophisticated - given enough time to prepare his thoughts, casual conversation is his worst enemy. As a result, he tries to go out of his way to avoid talking to strangers.
- Troubadour does remember the events around his death and harbors a deep resentment of Mephistopheles. Nonetheless, he’s accepted that he probably won’t ever be able to do anything about it - and, hey, he’s a demon already, so being dead could probably be a lot worse. He tries to put his frustration to other uses, such as letting ants into the pantry and kicking over trash cans. You know, low-level petty evil.
- Troubadour is always luminescent from the hellfire bottled within his skin. He does have the ability to control how brightly it burns - although he can’t hide the effect completely. He can’t do much to control any other kind of fire magic; that was an ability he only had when he was alive, and these days he can only really use the same abilities with shadows as most other demons. He swears up and down that it doesn’t matter. Have you ever given someone a papercut under their talon? That’s way worse than any burn.
@SilverSilver Rolling a die for this lady
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=45965110]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/459652/45965110_350.png[/img]
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@SilverSilver could I roll a die for this child?
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=53325758]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/533258/53325758_350.png[/img]
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|
 Waywind Wanderers We will wander wherever the wind takes us. |
@dd2900
Chihiro rolled: 16
You get: an action-oriented passage
--
Feet are stomping down the hall on the other side of the doorway.
Many, many feet, from the sounds of it.
“Oh, we’re in for it now…” Chihiro mutters to his familiar, a hainu who only presses reassuringly into his side. He feels a warm tongue against his arm and blindly swats at it.
He wishes he hadn’t dropped his lantern in the treasure room, but really, he can’t be blamed for it when he’d come face-to-face with a guard. Not just any guard, either, but the ostensible and honored king of these lands, a dour-faced Imperial who’d looked none too thrilled to see him holding a sackful of treasure and ruby-encrusted gauntlets.
Well. Maybe more than a guard, but really, what’s a king but a glorified guard of a lot of things?
“Shh, shh,” he hisses to his familiar, trying to peer under the door. More footsteps rush by, raised voices, then silence. He twitches his tail, focuses harder. Nothing. Hopefully they’d all stayed in a pack, each hoping to gain some glory by catching the thief first.
“Good luck to ya,” he breathes, wiggling his way to the handle. Hopefully this wouldn’t be like the last time where he’d locked himself in a storeroom. At least there had been food that time. His breath had smelled like cheddar for a week. This time, however, it seems like fortune is taking a little pity on him, for the door glides smoothly open. He pats his bag, throws it over his shoulder.
“C’mon,” he whispers. “Let’s fly.”
Chihiro rolled: 16
You get: an action-oriented passage
--
Feet are stomping down the hall on the other side of the doorway.
Many, many feet, from the sounds of it.
“Oh, we’re in for it now…” Chihiro mutters to his familiar, a hainu who only presses reassuringly into his side. He feels a warm tongue against his arm and blindly swats at it.
He wishes he hadn’t dropped his lantern in the treasure room, but really, he can’t be blamed for it when he’d come face-to-face with a guard. Not just any guard, either, but the ostensible and honored king of these lands, a dour-faced Imperial who’d looked none too thrilled to see him holding a sackful of treasure and ruby-encrusted gauntlets.
Well. Maybe more than a guard, but really, what’s a king but a glorified guard of a lot of things?
“Shh, shh,” he hisses to his familiar, trying to peer under the door. More footsteps rush by, raised voices, then silence. He twitches his tail, focuses harder. Nothing. Hopefully they’d all stayed in a pack, each hoping to gain some glory by catching the thief first.
“Good luck to ya,” he breathes, wiggling his way to the handle. Hopefully this wouldn’t be like the last time where he’d locked himself in a storeroom. At least there had been food that time. His breath had smelled like cheddar for a week. This time, however, it seems like fortune is taking a little pity on him, for the door glides smoothly open. He pats his bag, throws it over his shoulder.
“C’mon,” he whispers. “Let’s fly.”
@dd2900
Chihiro rolled: 16
You get: an action-oriented passage
--
Feet are stomping down the hall on the other side of the doorway.
Many, many feet, from the sounds of it.
“Oh, we’re in for it now…” Chihiro mutters to his familiar, a hainu who only presses reassuringly into his side. He feels a warm tongue against his arm and blindly swats at it.
He wishes he hadn’t dropped his lantern in the treasure room, but really, he can’t be blamed for it when he’d come face-to-face with a guard. Not just any guard, either, but the ostensible and honored king of these lands, a dour-faced Imperial who’d looked none too thrilled to see him holding a sackful of treasure and ruby-encrusted gauntlets.
Well. Maybe more than a guard, but really, what’s a king but a glorified guard of a lot of things?
“Shh, shh,” he hisses to his familiar, trying to peer under the door. More footsteps rush by, raised voices, then silence. He twitches his tail, focuses harder. Nothing. Hopefully they’d all stayed in a pack, each hoping to gain some glory by catching the thief first.
“Good luck to ya,” he breathes, wiggling his way to the handle. Hopefully this wouldn’t be like the last time where he’d locked himself in a storeroom. At least there had been food that time. His breath had smelled like cheddar for a week. This time, however, it seems like fortune is taking a little pity on him, for the door glides smoothly open. He pats his bag, throws it over his shoulder.
“C’mon,” he whispers. “Let’s fly.”
Chihiro rolled: 16
You get: an action-oriented passage
--
Feet are stomping down the hall on the other side of the doorway.
Many, many feet, from the sounds of it.
“Oh, we’re in for it now…” Chihiro mutters to his familiar, a hainu who only presses reassuringly into his side. He feels a warm tongue against his arm and blindly swats at it.
He wishes he hadn’t dropped his lantern in the treasure room, but really, he can’t be blamed for it when he’d come face-to-face with a guard. Not just any guard, either, but the ostensible and honored king of these lands, a dour-faced Imperial who’d looked none too thrilled to see him holding a sackful of treasure and ruby-encrusted gauntlets.
Well. Maybe more than a guard, but really, what’s a king but a glorified guard of a lot of things?
“Shh, shh,” he hisses to his familiar, trying to peer under the door. More footsteps rush by, raised voices, then silence. He twitches his tail, focuses harder. Nothing. Hopefully they’d all stayed in a pack, each hoping to gain some glory by catching the thief first.
“Good luck to ya,” he breathes, wiggling his way to the handle. Hopefully this wouldn’t be like the last time where he’d locked himself in a storeroom. At least there had been food that time. His breath had smelled like cheddar for a week. This time, however, it seems like fortune is taking a little pity on him, for the door glides smoothly open. He pats his bag, throws it over his shoulder.
“C’mon,” he whispers. “Let’s fly.”
@Silversilver AAAAAAAAAAAA d20 again pls
[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=53951189]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/539512/53951189_350.png[/img]
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@c33213
Lancaster rolled: 5
You get: aesthetic drabble
Heavy lies the crown, yet heavy lies your soul - in this frigid wasteland, what justice shall you uphold? O shapeshifter king, have you seen the empty courtyards, the vacant halls, the unjust clamoring in their graves? Alone you prowl and curse, keeping your eyes uplifted to the heavens, waiting for the wolves to come home and keep your hall once more - waiting for those who bear your shield to wake and heed your cry.
[emoji=full moon size=1]
@c33213
Lancaster rolled: 5
You get: aesthetic drabble
Heavy lies the crown, yet heavy lies your soul - in this frigid wasteland, what justice shall you uphold? O shapeshifter king, have you seen the empty courtyards, the vacant halls, the unjust clamoring in their graves? Alone you prowl and curse, keeping your eyes uplifted to the heavens, waiting for the wolves to come home and keep your hall once more - waiting for those who bear your shield to wake and heed your cry.
Lancaster rolled: 5
You get: aesthetic drabble
Heavy lies the crown, yet heavy lies your soul - in this frigid wasteland, what justice shall you uphold? O shapeshifter king, have you seen the empty courtyards, the vacant halls, the unjust clamoring in their graves? Alone you prowl and curse, keeping your eyes uplifted to the heavens, waiting for the wolves to come home and keep your hall once more - waiting for those who bear your shield to wake and heed your cry.