About: Miidera   Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : dbkwik:resource/V9mkEDrziPcskFBisi408Q==, within Data Space : dbkwik.org associated with source dataset(s)

It was dark and very dusty in the Sailor's Den, as usual. Two sailors, Aquilonians and pirates no doubt, were sitting together on a dirty bench just off to the side of the fight pit. They were deep in conversation talking just loud enough to hear each other over the drunken cheers of sailors and other regulars watching the current brawl happening within the fight pit. They were careful to be not too loud to be overheard as they discussed what was most likely their latest haul of booty from a merchant ship they had raided. One of the sailors a scrawny man with sunkist, leathery looking skin and thin blond hair stood up quickly, he was angry about something his companion had said and seemed ready to throttle him.

AttributesValues
rdf:type
rdfs:label
  • Miidera
rdfs:comment
  • It was dark and very dusty in the Sailor's Den, as usual. Two sailors, Aquilonians and pirates no doubt, were sitting together on a dirty bench just off to the side of the fight pit. They were deep in conversation talking just loud enough to hear each other over the drunken cheers of sailors and other regulars watching the current brawl happening within the fight pit. They were careful to be not too loud to be overheard as they discussed what was most likely their latest haul of booty from a merchant ship they had raided. One of the sailors a scrawny man with sunkist, leathery looking skin and thin blond hair stood up quickly, he was angry about something his companion had said and seemed ready to throttle him.
Alignment
  • Chaotic Neutral
REQUIREDclass
  • Dark Templar
REQUIREDgame name
  • Miidera
REQUIREDrace
  • Aquilonian
Eyes
  • grey-blue
Picture
  • Miidera1.jpg
Age
  • 27(xsd:integer)
Hair
  • white
dbkwik:wiccana-aoc...iPageUsesTemplate
Weight
  • 195(xsd:integer)
Height
  • 1.0
Build
  • Large, Musclar
Skin
  • pale
Gender
  • Male
Professions
  • Mercenary
REQUIREDcharacter name
  • Miidera Sect
abstract
  • It was dark and very dusty in the Sailor's Den, as usual. Two sailors, Aquilonians and pirates no doubt, were sitting together on a dirty bench just off to the side of the fight pit. They were deep in conversation talking just loud enough to hear each other over the drunken cheers of sailors and other regulars watching the current brawl happening within the fight pit. They were careful to be not too loud to be overheard as they discussed what was most likely their latest haul of booty from a merchant ship they had raided. One of the sailors a scrawny man with sunkist, leathery looking skin and thin blond hair stood up quickly, he was angry about something his companion had said and seemed ready to throttle him. Just then as the two sailors seemed to be at the peak of their argument a deep, dark shadow seem to envelop the entire den. Everyone in the place could not supress a violent shudder when a bitter cold fear wracked their bodies as they looked to the entrance at who or what caused the sudden darkness. The scrawny sailor that was now standing let out a faint gasp and sat back down quickly and turned towards his friend. "That's him...the one I spoke about the other day" he whispered to his friend making sure not to look up and make eye contact with the newcomer. In the entrance stood the silhouette of a tall rather large man. As the door behind in the entrance hall closed and he stepped into the faint light of the den his features became more visible. He wore heavy armour made up of iron plates, chain mail and hides of various rare and exotics beasts he had no doubt slain in combat. A curved sword hung at his side and a large blood red shield was slung to his back. He was quite muscular but pale and as he removed his ornate black metal helmet a shower of white hair fell down around his face. His blue, grey eyes glinted in the dim light as he surveyed all in the den, his eyes finally resting on an empty bench in the far corner of the den. As he walked towards his destination all he passed shrank from him as a aura of dread and death followed him. He smelled of a mixture of blood, battle and sweet flowers, a scent many found revolting and contradictory. When the newcomer reached the bench he sat down placed his helmet on the table and waited for the barmaid who reluctantly made her way over to take his drink order.
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