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About ModeratorD

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  • Birthday November 3

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  • Location
    The Spruce's Sap bar in Predator's Keep, Terrenus
  • Interests
    Harry Potter, MLP, Pokemon, Fantasy, Role play (obviously,) Lore, Adventure
  • Occupation
    A travelling trader

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  1. "Hey, good guy, Wisegem." Seeming to still hold the common sense to understand the bar wasn't an inn, he made his way out and manually carried his cart from the parking lot towards the general store. However, he was drunk, and stumbled numerous times. Anyone could see that. Alas, as intelligent and powerful as George Chapman was, he had his own severe weakness; drunkenness. Anyone, at this point in time, could easily take advantage of him. Perhaps a fake guard may get a second chance?
  2. "I've used cow blood every time the bandits send their dogs after me." He said. "I've had it in the most excess at the time. I've been told any animal blood will work though." He pulled out a map of Terrenus. "The person who taught me this potion actually had the same name as you Noddendody- I mean Trevor." The trader rubbed his forehead. "Sorry, I was looking at this map and the name of those hills just worked into my head. It's the alcohol speaking."
  3. George took out a glass bottle from his bag and poured some wine in it. "Hey barkeep, y'know where the nearest brewery is?" He asked. After receiving the directions, George turned back to Trevor. "There's a unique potion of mine called the hound's fall potion. Once you drink it, you don't smell, your footsteps are lighter, and best of all, moving through water is nearly silent. But..." George handed the bottle to Trevor and started writing something down. "I'm too deep in with the alcohol. It isn't a lot, and I'm actually quite sober, but a simple mistake with this potion can make it deadly. So I'm going to have to let you make it yourself. Retrieve any supplies you need from my cart." He handed Trevor the instructions: heat wine to a warm temperature where the bottom of the container it's in has bubbles, but the wine doesn't boil, add two tablespoons of sugar, one teaspoon of blood, and a pinch of bluebirch bark splinters.
  4. "How appropriate. Mermaid's kiss. Get it? They're going to be trying to kiss you." George smiled wryly at his own immature joke. "Well, I do have something that could help you avoid making contact whatsoever with mermaids. That is, if you can sneak." He ordered a bottle of wine from the barkeep and turned to Trevor. "Tell me, do mermaids use their sense of smell underwater?"
  5. "Weeeeelllll..." He continued to drink. "I was thinking of selling catapau beans. But since I'm always travelling, I'm not going to get time to grow the things... Ah, wait, that's not what I was going to say..." The Trader picked at the splinters of his mug. "Er, that blood rune guy. Yeah, didja find him yet? Rather, make any progress? You needed the ectoplasm or such to get him right?"
  6. George said something to the barkeeper, who prepared a coffee-like, cocoa-like drink which is brewed from a foreign bean. It's rich, dark, energizing, and flavorful. It was called catapao. "I discovered this drink in my time at the bazaar in Blairville. It only grows in high elevations like mountains or the floating continent, Reno-something-io, and is slightly expensive to ship. These supposedly came from Blarg mountain, and is completely healthy. I'm giving you a real treat here." He eagerly took large swig of his cold rum. He pulled a face at the bitter result. It was like a mix between sugarless lemonade and chicken grease, in the physical form of syrup. It burned his throat and stomach slightly, but he was drawn to the alcoholic item. "Heh." He chuckled, the smoky sexiness of his voice faltering slightly. "Kids're always more responsible than us older ones." He seemed to forget the truth of Trevor's age that he had learned at the tavern of legend. "So, ah..." He thought for a moment.
  7. Dropping his horses in the stable, he tipped with a gold coin (coins being smaller than nuggets) and parked his cart in the lot outside a bar called The Spruce's Sap. It was heavy parking the cart manually and without horses, but the task was accomplished nonetheless. As soon as he stepped into the bar with Trevor, their eardrums were overflown with sound. Rowdy lumberjacks, drunken singers, and hoboes littered the messy tables. The owners hadn't even bothered to clean the place up. However, George liked this enviroment. He wasn't sure about Trevor though. Paying with a full nugget this time, George told the barkeep to bring him a "classic molastic rum." Fully aware of gold's value, he knew Trevor's drink could be covered by the nugget easily. He beckoned to the menu with a wide and careless grin. A grin unexpected from his elegant grace and fine manner of speaking when it comes to business, but comepletely expected if you've stuck around with him after hours, aware of his quite boisterous nature. "Pick something, and then I'll let you get washed up in their restrooms."
  8. The name was incredibly stupid. Forest goblins? They can live in many places besides a forest, thank you very much! That's exactly the nature of the forest goblin clan, the Spriamans. A clan of forest goblins with many shamans. They originally did settle in the cedars, due to its mystical nature in the spring, but the winter brought much disaster and bloodshed. Since then, these goblins have created a hideaway in the hidden valley, a haven that had taken days to discover. In it, they have built what is the likeness of a longhouse. This was decades ago, however. It was fall now, the season to start stockpiling goods into the hideaway. However, one goblin would not be doing that this season. A goblin previously named Bongib, but now renamed Moddle as a goblin insult, sat crying at the edge of the cedars. He was incredibly softhearted and a big baby, although his sneak and combat skills would be on-point. He had been forsaken not only by his family, but by his entire clan, as he had helped a human family escape the season before. It took a long time for the goblins in the clan to decide on punishment. The group assigned on the raid wanted life imprisonment for poor Moddle. His family even called for death! But due to the morals of the wise shamans, and the visions of future providence for Moddle, he decided the forsaken goblin to be better off exiled. So here he was, a small, 2"8' goblin crying amongst the cedars on a crisp, fall day. And all he had in his possession was a dagger with a handle of bone.
  9. "I don't know what to tell you, Wisegem." The trader winced as he put a small cut in his arm. As the blood gathered to his cut, he turned it over so it dripped into a small glass vial he had ready. "I can help with senses, skills and abilities, but i can do squat about your feelings." He said an incantation aloud that sounded like a mix between "gather" and "ghouls," but was utterly incomprehensible, and a newfound light could be felt emanating from the cart. The enchantment that casted the ghouls had been lifted. The vial was now empty. "I need to find a bar to get some good rum. I need something heavy and hard-hitting, and a molasses-based alcohol is the best thing for that. If you need me, you know where to find me." He began to lead his horses to a nearby public stable.
  10. Simply put, I need to know how to tell what season it is in Terrenus. It has been difficult looking for it, and I'm unsure whether Valucre uses real world yearly calender or what. The reason I need to know is the Cedars. My new character is a goblin name Moddle, and, forsaken by his clan who lives in the hidden valley, he has been dropped off at the Cedars. According to it's page, the seasons are very important circumstancially, so I want to know the best way for keeping track.
  11. George shook his head. "I have an assortment of foilage, plants, and fungi, both magical and not. But I highly doubt I have anything from a mermaid town in my possession." He led his horses nearer to a general store. Unlike the bustling Blairville, Predator's Keep had no bazaar. He was going to have to make gold here traditionally. Turning to Trevor, he beckoned his cart with his head. "I'm kind of a jack-of-all-trades, if you know what I mean. I definitely brew you a gill growing potion and the antidote. Do you need it? And don't accept just to try and make me feel useful, I'm far more than happy with what I've contributed do far."
  12. "I told a few kids you were an epic wizard who could teleport. I imagine that 'overpowered' ability is causing quite a few arguments in some children's games now." He cleared his throat, and he spoke in his best imitation of a child's voice; "That's no fair! You can't just teleport behind my character and kill him like that! That's against the rules!" He chuckled. A very ruffled guard came out from the cart with the mage carrying his comrade. "Y-you can go ahead now... please." And with that, George led his horses through the gates of the enormous walls. And with that, they were in view of many, many wooden buildings and carts carrying lumber. "So, uh, what did you need to visit me for exactly?"
  13. Race: Forest GoblinGender: MaleName: ModdleNickname(s): Mud, Bongib, Moon-EyesAlignment: Neutral GoodHair Color: Black (stubble on the top of the head)Skin Color: A Dark GreenMustache (if any): N/ABeard (if any): N/AEye Color: Grey-ish BlueTeeth Situation: Pearly whites (with fangs)Height (On Arrival To Valucre): 2"8'Wieght (On Arrival To Valucre): 87 PoundsAge (On Arrival to Valucre): 14 (that's mature, according to his clan. He's considered to be an adult.)Body Type: Very tiny and skinny. He has huge ears that extend away from his head on either side. (kind of like dobby from Harry Potter, but considerably longer.)Occupation: None as of yet (to be edited/changed in the future)General Skills or Practition: He can be incredibly stealthy when he needs to be, and he can jump really high. He only knows a small bit of earth magic.Lover: He is SingleUpper Body Clothing: A leather vest (it shows his stomach as he has no shirt)Lower Body Clothing: Wool PantsVoice: Very low pitched, slightly croaky and tearful Background: Known to many, it is a common fact that forest goblins are gold-obsessed filthy pillagers and robbers. Although most of the time weak, when grouped, they can be deadly, and many sneaky. (though not all.) Manually grouped in unique clans, goblins live their lives travelling, normally in forests with pelt tents. Moddle was originally named Bongib, rough goblin-speak for "bone give." He usually handled a bone-handled knife and jumped on the necks of his enemies before "giving them the bone," thus, the name his people gave him. On one raid, he felt pity for the human victims, and helped them escape with a considerable amount of loot. This made his leader fall into considerable rage, and Moddle was forsaken by the clan. Renamed, as "muddy," abandon by his (willing) family in the woods, he lives alone. He has grown immensely soft-hearted and he is heard crying quite a lot. (Like, a lot. It's pretty much his character gimmick.) He hates cruelty and is nice to everyone. He has huge, grayish eyes which led to the uncommon nickname, "Moon-eyes," and he always carries his bone-handled dagger.
  14. Within the next hour, my "about me" page will be updated! With what you ask? I new character! I wonder how he'll go down in the books...? Hehehe

  15. The guard nodded as George informed them not to touch anything in the cart, or enchantments would cast punishment on them. They headed two soldiers into the cart. George turned to Trevor. "I plan to find an inn to stay in, oh I don't know, for maybe a day. Get some good rum and food in my stomach, get some trading done, but most importantly, get a new carving knife and a metric ton of wood. A lot of my business is the carvings I sell to children, and I hear this place makes business in the millions on nuggets when it comes to wood. So I thought coming here would be quite profitable. As for the ectoplasm, what did you need it for again? I completely forgot." A guard stepped out of his cart, running towards the gate as George was speaking. A mage came running back out with the guard in tow, and they entered the cart. Fearsome screeches could be heard inside. "Seems they've gotten a taste of my ghouls. If any living hands touch my loot, the result is petrification. That is, until i use my own blood to break the enchantment." George let out a hearty laugh.
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