Recent content by Euthanor Nachimar

The frustration of the she-orc was not lost in the Plague Doctor. On the contrary, his mind registered the simplicity of her, attributing such mentality to her culture, of which he knew nothing of, for the time being. Another fine exploration, this would be, he thought to himself. He nodded to...

Euthanor placed the wooden rod infront of him and rested both his gloved hands on its top. His body, though covered by layers of black cloth, hinted nothing to any tension, or sentiment by the Plague Doctor. He simply observed, listening in what seemed bottomless reserves of patience. Whether he...

The Plague Doctor's beaked mask nodded to Vyona's inquiry. He still evaluated her as a character and potential ally, knowing full well she served as an asset in the mystic Night Court. She was a woman of action; A mere barbarian, to Euthanor's eyes, and yet this wasn't here nor there. She had a...

The Night King's domain was swelling by each passing moon, in a rate much to Euthanor's surprise. The Night Court's efficiency in battle, combined with the elegantly structured labyrinth of administration and fiefdoms, all blending in to a rather chaotic mix, for one first eyeing the...

The lights flickered. As the lantern openned, against the wind's furious lash, wax melted dripped hot down from it, freezing long before its droplets cracked by their impact with the cobblestone. The man shrugged, never truly noticing the falling wax, as he simply closed the lantern again...

Each step was a carefully calculated action. Each motion, made with mathematic precision. Euthanor unbound the thread around his throat, letting the heavy black cloak slide down the soil, revealing his true identity. His beaked masked gaze turned North, his mind numbering each of the Hobgoblin...

The streets had become desolate in this district. Wherever the gaze turned, there were emptied market stools, scrolled tents and weeping cloaked figures, as the Plague Doctors carried the dead to the Black Maria; The wooden cart repurposed as a corpse carrier, roaming the streets pulled by oxen...

@TheThird The viles turned white of the steam emitted from the brown-green liquid's boiling over the small candle. The wire stand allowed the vile enough space from the thin yellow tongue so as the glass remained solid, yet the vile's bottom was darkening from overuse. Several elixirs, samples...

The methods of war in Sparnia differed little when compared to the Central Erovan battlefields. Much less use of artillery and rifles, perhaps, yet Euthanor reasoned that the Sparnish were much younger a culture on that regard. Central Erova had experienced some of the most bloody and important...

A certain sense of unease grew in Euthanor, while the Iron Priestess rode off. He patted his steed, seeing the apple fed was eaten, before he jumped up the saddle mounting. After adjusting the reins, he pulled, moving the horse around, as the embasy returned to the Espadan host. Always by the...

Euthanor observed, remaining dismounted. The etiquette of a parle before a contest of armies was still respected, it seemed, and so did Marcus respected it in turn. There was a spike in barbarism across Erova, and the Plague Doctor knew to keep a mental note of the practice. "House Skyrra" He...

"Not the best sight, right?" the Plague Doctor inquired to the black horse next to him. He held the stallion by the reins, yet did not ride throughout the most of the campaign. His abnormal stamina, result of his mutations, was based on practice. He prefered to walk and train his body with...

The Abhartach was aware of the Plague Doctor's quest, or at least the vague nature of it. Euthanor could be all but assured of it, given the way the monster spoke. His would be a dark and most difficult trial, which he had to endure. To betray the Cult was the greatest blasphemy he could commit...

Fuernburg, few years ago... The glass visors of the Plague Doctor reflected the long tongues of the burning woman, as her voice slowly turned to a dry growling due to the flame's effect. A large "V" was carved on her bare torso with the silver blade now sheathed on the belt of the crow-peaked...

The very weight of the arcane energy gathered around him felt like a possession entirely. Euthanor struggled. His mind at start refused to give in, and yet, as more and more moments passed, the limbs begun yielding to the foul magics for which the Plague Doctor was not prepared for. Panic, swept...