Kaziil

Well, Madam Morrible. Take MM, flip it around…

Wicked Witch!

We all have our parts to play. If you believe yours is being Glinda, then you—. Oh, you mean the theatre.

You should audition!

I don’t think anyone would stop you from changing your name, friend.

Raphael

— lord of the house of hope.

𝙎𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙧𝙢, 𝙨𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙧𝙢.

- he/him
- +21 writers please!
-Bisexual muse. With chem please!
-I am Emma. I am +25. I also write tulip Baldur’s
- #bg3rp #baldursgate3rp

𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙬𝙨.

+ path behind gone, his only choice was forward.

Kaz gave it another moment before continuing his stride. Only the animals made themselves known. If one was to attack him, he would be ready… but perhaps they were more fearful of him that he thought at first. A deer, or something akin to it, stood ahead, grazing on the lush vegetation.

With the +

+ I would prefer to meet you than brawl, but it is up to you where this meeting goes.”

Perhaps it was an animal, perhaps he was being paranoid… or perhaps he was right. Perhaps he was being watched.

An illusion? A trick? Or was this a dream? Had he stopped for camp, slumber bringing these strange visions.

He could feel eyes on him, watching his movements. Kaz stopped, fists clenched at his sides with practiced strength.

“I do not wish to harm you but that does not mean I am defenseless. +

+ been crossed. Literally, metaphorically: it didn’t matter. Something had changed in the woods around him. The birds seemed to sing in a different key, the dirt crunched differently, and it smelled… sweeter, almost sickeningly so.

+ of the roads travelled in a fortnight.

The sound of birds carried through the leaves, brought on the winds of fall. Not long now and it would be frost and snow that the wind brought, a reminder of Auril’s fury. It was thoughts of the goddess that were cut off as Kaz felt it. A threshold had +

@shadeofthewillow.bsky.social The path through the woods was not peculiar, not in any way that would’ve made Kaz think such things. It was like so many before, this one fairly flat save for a rogue root or fallen branch. In fact, the tiefling would have considered it one of the more well-trodden +

+ of the coins.

“I’d be happy to,” he answers, mirroring the unnamed stranger’s actions and taking a seat across from it.

“What are you interested in? Beasts? Places? People?” Kaz took a moment to think back to the days of traveling, the kindness of strangers and of the beauty of nature… and the opposite sides +

𝙇𝙚𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙞𝙚
𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪
𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨...

#MVRP • #OCRP

Aww, thank you! You made my day!

A label-maker? Is that a machine or a laborer?

I’ve been told that my mouth easily outpaces my mind. You can refer to yourself however you like. I wasn’t trying to put labels on you.

+ letting me rest my feet.”

It was a fair question, one he had expected some form of. “I am on a pilgrimage of sorts. Not so much lost as… wandering.”

“In my experience? No. I wish it was but the limited few I would consider friends is proof enough.” He hummed thoughtfully, thinking back to the others at the monastery.

“That being said, it becomes much harder if I refuse to extend even the most basic of niceties to a stranger… especially one +

Beastmaster, that is what we would call that here. Though, I suppose there is no right or wrong name.

Sorry.

Guess that’s true.

And is that what you do? You’re a Monster Hunter?

Bigger beasts, bigger challenges. Our monsters must seem like child’s play.

… now I’m curious, where are you from? Not the Sword Coast?

Do you have a favorite?

+ “My friends call me Kaz. You may as well, if you’d like.”

Kaziil placed his bag down before taking a spot near the flames. “What should I call you?”

This Dragonborn seemed more predator than man, the eyes watching him with an invisible gleam, like a wolf watching from the bushes.

“I said unarmed, friend, not defenseless.” As a monk trained in the way of the Open Hand, there was little weapon that would have been more effective for Kaz to use. +

I think everyone does.

Ah, dragons. I wish we could just lock the rotten ones in a dungeon somewhere.

+ moment?” His feet ached in his sandals, and sweat ran down his brow. Even the autumn chill couldn’t chase away the heat accompanying his exhaustion.

The Dragonborn was large, white scales underscored by a crimson, like fresh blood in the snow. “I am unarmed, if that helps sway your decision.”