Player Search Results
| Name | Level | Class | Desc |
|---|---|---|---|
| Michael the wandering scholar | 38 | Mage |
You see a plain looking man limping down the dusty road gripping
a gnarled staff. He wears a worn leather duster and a battered hat. As you get closer you realize that you can't place an age to him. At first he seemed old and withered, but he has the features of a young man. Until you look into the eyes. His pale eyes open into a void that makes you quickly look elsewhere. As he limps closer, you wonder what sort of trials could break the body and soul this way. |
| ShadowHawk whispers "the masked Anti-Bot rides again !" | 91 | Warrior |
What are you looking at, furface ?
|
| Tardling the NutCase<color> of Magic<color> | 91 | Mage |
. /=====================================================
. | | . | ... this incessant stubborn dying<color>, | . | this living death<color>, | . | that slays you, oh God<color>, | . | in your rigorous handiwork, | . | in the roses<color>, in the stones<color>, | . | in the indomitable stars<color>, | . | and in the flesh<color> that burns<color> out<color>, | . | like a bonfire lit by a song<color>, | . | a dream<color>, | . | a hue<color> that hits the eye. | . | | . | <color> ... and you, yourself<color>, | . | perhaps have died eternities of ages out there, | . | without us knowing about it, | . | we dregs<color>, crumbs<color>, ashes<color> of you<color>; | . | <color> you<color> that still are present, | . | like a star<color> faked<color> by its very light, | . | an empty<color> light without star | . | that reaches us, | . | hiding | . | its infinite catastrophe... | . | | . | There is no death<color> for us: no hell<color>: no resolution<color>:. <color>| . | Only the<color> essence<color> split and folded from the essence<color>,<color>| . | <color> Halving<color>, and, again, halving<color>. <color>| . | Till strength<color> and intellect<color> lie shared into dust<color>, <color>| . | Too small to think<color>, remember<color> or compute<color>: <color>| . | Pinhead specks of hatred<color>, loss<color> and sorrow <color>| . | Where half-words from a lifetimes memory echo. <color>| . | Now silence<color> pits dark<color> against nothing<color>. <color>| . | Weight renews forever. <color>| . | | . ==================================================== / <color> |
The description and title values are not finished. The information is still in the profiles, we're just having display quirks.