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Sarabas Neverneverland
Male🍆, Clan of Scholars🤓, Diplomacy, Literacy, +2 to strength💪, +2 to endurance🧡, +1 to agility💨.
A door as old as eternity but as solid as a mountain range swings open with a kick from a leather boot — it's Sarabas Neverneverland coming to visit his fellow scholars from their shared interest club.
- Yo, dodjiks! - That's what the members of this club called each other, though by now no one even remembers where the name came from. - So, how's life, how's it hanging? How many witches have you banged, how many enemies have you drowned in blood, how many monsters have you skinned? - After looking around and not seeing a single epic cloak or any other similar item, the speaker nods knowingly. - I see, zero. But that's no surprise. This turf isn't ours, us nerds', right? Good excuse, gotta hand it to you. All our comrade is good for is reading little texts and looking at little pictures. - Contrary to his disparaging speech, there was no arrogance or contempt in the intellectual's eyes. - I see you're all still grinding away at that tabletop game, creating characters, writing biographies for them — good on you, I approve, it's a useful pastime. But life is also a game, and the most important thing in it is taking action. If you don't take action, you don't live — or rather, you live, but not like a human, more like some kind of mushroom. When you've got nothing to your name, falling into depression and thinking life is meaningless is all too easy — such a cliché way of thinking that it's almost sad. But once you get something — powerful muscles, a badass house, standing in society, money, professionalism in some craft, anything at all — then your appetite for life starts to awaken and grow rapidly, you'll get ravenous from that feeling alone. You'll want this, and that, and a fifth thing, and a tenth — your imagination won't be enough for all of it, AND your hands won't be either — after all, life isn't a woman's breasts, two won't be enough. Well, why are you all silent? I'm not some mighty warrior either — I can't even swing a sword properly, I'm not a super-wizard, and not a seducer of kings, but just the same kind of dodjik as you — it's entirely possible I'll walk back out that door and get eaten by a monster, struck by lightning, or something worse will happen, but I'd rather take that risk than gather dust and mold waiting for the inevitable end. So think about it, while I go grab fate by the horns. Or it grabs me — depending on luck.
Male🍆, Clan of Scholars🤓, Diplomacy, Literacy, +2 to strength💪, +2 to endurance🧡, +1 to agility💨.
A door as old as eternity but as solid as a mountain range swings open with a kick from a leather boot — it's Sarabas Neverneverland coming to visit his fellow scholars from their shared interest club.
- Yo, dodjiks! - That's what the members of this club called each other, though by now no one even remembers where the name came from. - So, how's life, how's it hanging? How many witches have you banged, how many enemies have you drowned in blood, how many monsters have you skinned? - After looking around and not seeing a single epic cloak or any other similar item, the speaker nods knowingly. - I see, zero. But that's no surprise. This turf isn't ours, us nerds', right? Good excuse, gotta hand it to you. All our comrade is good for is reading little texts and looking at little pictures. - Contrary to his disparaging speech, there was no arrogance or contempt in the intellectual's eyes. - I see you're all still grinding away at that tabletop game, creating characters, writing biographies for them — good on you, I approve, it's a useful pastime. But life is also a game, and the most important thing in it is taking action. If you don't take action, you don't live — or rather, you live, but not like a human, more like some kind of mushroom. When you've got nothing to your name, falling into depression and thinking life is meaningless is all too easy — such a cliché way of thinking that it's almost sad. But once you get something — powerful muscles, a badass house, standing in society, money, professionalism in some craft, anything at all — then your appetite for life starts to awaken and grow rapidly, you'll get ravenous from that feeling alone. You'll want this, and that, and a fifth thing, and a tenth — your imagination won't be enough for all of it, AND your hands won't be either — after all, life isn't a woman's breasts, two won't be enough. Well, why are you all silent? I'm not some mighty warrior either — I can't even swing a sword properly, I'm not a super-wizard, and not a seducer of kings, but just the same kind of dodjik as you — it's entirely possible I'll walk back out that door and get eaten by a monster, struck by lightning, or something worse will happen, but I'd rather take that risk than gather dust and mold waiting for the inevitable end. So think about it, while I go grab fate by the horns. Or it grabs me — depending on luck.