Player Search Results

A little dwarf glares right back at you and says, 'Stop that.'
Naturally, you are puzzled by what he wants you to stop doing.
As you try to figure it out, he throws up his hands and yells,
'I SAID STOP THAT! How would you like it if people stared at you?'
'I guess it is better than trying to step on me, and then
thinking that a muffled 'excuse me' makes up for it.'
He crosses his arms and glowers at you. 'Well, it doesn't.
See how you would take it if people were always trying to
step on you, and then you'd treat us little folk better, says I.'
The last part was said as he walked away, seemingly
forgetting mid sentence that he was talking to someone
other than himself. Suddenly, he looks over his shoulder,
grumbles something about rude big people always staring,
and then utters some arcane words and suddenly disappears before your eyes!

.

. __________________________________________________________________

.

. '||''''| | '||''|. | '|| ||' '||' '||''|.

. || . ||| || || ||| |||. .||| || || ||

. ||''| | || ||''|' | || || ||| || || ||''|'

. || .''''|. || |. .''''|. || ^ || || || |.

. .||. .|. .||. .||. '|. .|. .||. .|| ||. .||. .||. '|.


. Faramir was once a tall, imposing warrior but now his stern face

. is pallid and wrinkled, his eyes sapphires of ice. An eldritch air

. emanates from the bones of his fragile frame and curls in clouds

. at the borders of a ragged, sorcerer's robe. A flash of unkempt,

. white hair is visible beneath the silver of a chilling, winged

. circlet. Strapped to his left arm is a circular shield, on the

. surface of which lies the intricately engraved image of a tree. A

. great sword occupies Faramir's right hand. Its blade of deepest

. anthracite is disturbed only by pulsing, fluorescent blue veins.

. Pinned to his robe is a small glass vial which drives spears of

. magical light into your naked eyes and illuminates the doubt which

. drifts upon the waters of your soul.

. __________________________________________________________________

I am <color> Mr. Munshun<color>
Head talent scout for the Crimson<color> <color> King<color>
We surch for ze talented childrenz to take back to ze innerworld<color>.
Ze one zat are not geefted ze King<color> geeves to me.
I love to make ze childrez<color> cry<color> and scream<color>.
For i am ze Munshun!<color>