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Anfini!
Anfini has scored a STAGGERING CRITICAL hit.
A victimised intruder's flesh has withered beyond tolerance and it collapses to the ground in a heap
of decayed flesh.
A victimised intruder has been slain by Anfini.
You gasp with the realization that Anfini has reached the level of 99.
Anfini smiles in satisfaction, but the smile suddenly freezes on his lips and is overtaken by a look
of pure horror. Unable to help or hinder, you watch transfixed as Anfini's body begins to swell and
grow, his arms elongating and his skin stretching and taking on a translucent grey sheen. He throws
back his head and screams, the incredible sound driving your hands to your ears defensively. The
scream dies down and you stare, speechless, at Anfini. He lowers his gaze to fix upon you, and you
realize in horror that his eyes now appear empty and haunted.
An agonized scream startles all into a brief hushed silence as Anfini finally transcends the mortal
body, assuming the hollow form of a Tekal.
Anfini picks up the corpse of a victimised intruder.
(Spinesreach): Moirean says, "Well done, doctor."
You shout, "Congratulations Anfini!"
You see Anfini shout, "It is DONE!"
(Before)
He is a prudent Mhun, a lanky, well-cut man who must be seven feet tall, at the very least. He is
peppered lightly with a long life's worth of natural scars, etched against corded musculature that
defines his lithe shape. He tends to wear loose clothing, his shirt often unbuttoned, revealing the
fat, circular scar just beneath his sternum, centered perfectly at the apex of his gut. His angular
face is framed by a chaos of white hair, kept clean but handily neglected. Two narrow eyes, thin
lips, and a long, patrician nose make his face knife-edged, handsome and boyish, but lined with
marks of age. Where one of his eyes is a rich orange color, the other is dead, fogged over with
cataracts, milky blue in coloration. He wears a smattering of piercings all over his face, silver
rings or studs chosen at random, embedded into his eyebrows, nose, ears, or lips. He walks with the
blessing of Severn.
(tucked in, cuffs cinched) : a simple beige dress shirt
(buttoned once, naturally) : a regal golden vest
(tucked into his boots) : a pair of brown leather trousers
(making each step a clink) : a pair of gray armored boots
(residing in his vest pocket) : a chain bearing a brass compass
(draped about him austerely) : a formal longcoat of the Cabal
(slung from shoulder to hip) : a silvery sash of the Cabal
(around one wrist) : devastating hardy enhancing bracers of endurance
(After)
He is an experienced Tekal, a brutish mass of muscle, an exaggerated and distended manshape of incredible breadth. He's nine feet tall if not even more, tall enough to make doors a real trial. His body, grey-skinned and shot through with dim veins, is widest at the shoulders and chest, tapering down into a well-built but considerably narrower torso and legs. Narrow eyes with no iris or pupil are set into deep sockets above a nose like a granite carving, his face defined by sharp-edged cheekbones and a powerful jaw. Pale blonde hair, very nearly white, explodes from his skull like a ball of flame. At the topmost part of his gut, a dark, scarlike mark writhes and twitches, a puncture of festering black against uncolored flesh. He walks with the blessing of Severn.
(tucked in, cuffs cinched) : a simple beige dress shirt
(buttoned once, naturally) : a regal golden vest
(tucked into his boots) : a pair of brown leather trousers
(making each step a clink) : a pair of gray armored boots
(residing in his vest pocket) : a chain bearing a brass compass
(draped about him austerely) : a formal longcoat of the Cabal
(slung from shoulder to hip) : a silvery sash of the Cabal
(around one wrist) : devastating hardy enhancing bracers of endurance
5
Comments
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(The Front Line): Daskalos says, "<-- artifacts."
He is a wise Idreth, extraordinarily tall and lithe, graceful in his musculature. His flesh is pale and cold-toned, without blemish or scar. Long arms reach nearly to his knees; slender, tapered pianist's fingers terminate into clean and shaped nails. His face is severe and blade-edged, with a long, patrician nose, thin lips, and a pronounced jaw. His pale, orange eyes are almond-shaped, deeply sunk beneath his brow. He has no hair on his head or face to speak of, with a bald, pronounced skull.