| This Character has been reviewed 3 times by 2 unique reviewers and has participated in 2 games. (note: we can only count games that have actually been reviewed) [View Owner Stats] |
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| Character's Role (Check all that apply) |
| Front Line Fighter |
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| Archer |
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| Rogue/Scout |
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| Spellcaster |
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| Healer |
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0% |
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| Character's Perceived Alignment (Check all that apply) |
| Good |
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| Evil |
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| Neutral |
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| Chaotic |
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| Lawful |
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0% |
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| Teamwork (Check all that apply) |
| This character was mostly a leader |
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0% |
| This character was a scout |
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| This character stayed with the group |
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0% |
| This character worked well with the group |
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0% |
| This character inappropriately dominated all conversations |
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0% |
| This character provided valuable ideas to the team |
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0% |
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| Roleplaying (Check all that apply) |
| I learned something new about this character in this session |
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0% |
| This character was too quiet |
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| This character was a serious character |
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0% |
| This character was a funny character |
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0% |
| This character was an outlandish character |
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0% |
the dusk sky blushes into a fluorescent pink as the pine tops sway to the winds song. Deep within the the great forest a pliable ribbon of gray smoke leans south from a swelling of leaves accentuated from the rest of the forest canopy, a steady thump emanates from the source. Comfortably nested underneith a collossal oak sitting on a jagged cliff was a wooden square portal veiled with a light green glowing moss that also covered the thick, tangled roots enclosing the secret cabin enterence. The reliable thuds cease portending to a few moments before the heavy oaken door slide open under the guidence of a large, caloused hand. The owner of the monsterous hand is a 7 foot tall robust man both grizzled and bronze. His black eyes are always smiling like he has never seen a rainy day. his bulbous nose is the mark of a man you likes his drink. His wide cheek explode with stark white wire that waterfalls down to his barrelled chest. If you were to see him from a distance he would look like a old tan dwarf. He steps from the mantle of the oak to feel the breeze as he wipes the sheet of sweat from his bald brow with a woolen cloth. though his stomach seems to have generous space for meals not a single pound of him wiggles. His broad frame is armored in sturdy muscle and width seems to hinder his grace none. He looks out to the open space from his natural porch of granite. The valley has submitted its variety of green shades to the dark gray green as the sky bruises a deep purple freckled with a few stars. The old man suddenly looks his age as he turns to the moon."I hear you northern wind" He speaks as if he were answering a challenge from the heavens. "It is time..." 
