RE: Black Zenith [Adventure RPG / Chapter Four: Fires of Heaven]
04-18-2015, 12:33 AM
Watson, who had been pondering endlessly about magicians, has been plagued by them once again! That's what he gets for standing around foppishly. Even in the seconds after being terribly skewered, he didn't feel in a position to do anything standing around helplessly with blood pouring out of his gut. But with the healing aid of the bunnykin, he now feels up to landing hits of his own.
Watson puts on his brand new pendant because jew'lry always looks absolutely princely on him. This goes for anything actually. Especially when he charges towards someone with magically-fired shoes and breathes a column of flame over their head.
His body shines a crystal-clean radiance, his lungs out-pouring a munificent ruby wind before him, a large ancient gourd materializing in his hands. It brims to the top with rejuvenating fluids. The liquid glows a neon-red, a sacred substance from another plane of existence. Thankfully, that plane of existence can appreciate a fine merlot. But no, not this simpleton. Why, he wouldst not tell the taste of a Gouraine Catroux if it hit him over the head!
Maybe Watson should give him a chance at identifying the subtle nuances in its taste.
By throwing the large gourd at Renzo's head in the most unsubtle way possible, the gourd smashing against his head, its contents splashing all over the unfabled artist. He will initially experience a sharp pain and momentarily soiled clothes before having his tongue scraped of all foreign substances which may impair his judgment of the wine, his liver cleansed of other intoxicating fluids in order to prepare him for the Gouraine's effect on his body, and his brain's myelin sheathing soaked in a fine varnish. After Renzo's palate has experienced the raw flavour and relishment that is the millenia-old vino, his body will feel like an oaky finish dampened with strawberry and ginger-snap.
Watson puts on his brand new pendant because jew'lry always looks absolutely princely on him. This goes for anything actually. Especially when he charges towards someone with magically-fired shoes and breathes a column of flame over their head.
His body shines a crystal-clean radiance, his lungs out-pouring a munificent ruby wind before him, a large ancient gourd materializing in his hands. It brims to the top with rejuvenating fluids. The liquid glows a neon-red, a sacred substance from another plane of existence. Thankfully, that plane of existence can appreciate a fine merlot. But no, not this simpleton. Why, he wouldst not tell the taste of a Gouraine Catroux if it hit him over the head!
Maybe Watson should give him a chance at identifying the subtle nuances in its taste.
By throwing the large gourd at Renzo's head in the most unsubtle way possible, the gourd smashing against his head, its contents splashing all over the unfabled artist. He will initially experience a sharp pain and momentarily soiled clothes before having his tongue scraped of all foreign substances which may impair his judgment of the wine, his liver cleansed of other intoxicating fluids in order to prepare him for the Gouraine's effect on his body, and his brain's myelin sheathing soaked in a fine varnish. After Renzo's palate has experienced the raw flavour and relishment that is the millenia-old vino, his body will feel like an oaky finish dampened with strawberry and ginger-snap.
![[Image: Iv0bTLS.png]](https://i.imgur.com/Iv0bTLS.png)