Hero

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Rappscallionn 6

level 127
trader level 13

The ~ƒ was I thinking...?

Age 8 years 3 months
Personality vicious
Guild The Forsakens Lament
(wretch)
Monsters Killed about 793 thousand
Death Count 208
Wins / Losses 132 / 17
Temple Completed at 06/12/2016
Ark Completed at 11/11/2017 (450.3%)
Pairs Gathered at 11/17/2019
Book Written at 02/19/2023
Souls Gathered 31.16%
Shop “Rumshackle”
Pet Stag of holding Luneshine 26th level
Boss Headhaunter with 121% of power

Equipment

Weapon Thor's jackhammer +141
Shield silver surfboard +141
Head seven veils +141
Body waist of thyme +141
Arms engagement wings +140
Legs landing gear +141
Talisman coping mechanism +140

Skills

  • mass effect level 145
  • iron vortex level 137
  • bad breath level 136
  • falcon punch level 128
  • effect of the groundhog level 128
  • instant hairloss level 125
  • shiny heels level 114
  • frost bite level 113
  • cash whistle level 104
  • asynchronous swimming level 101

Feats

  • ⓷ Get featured in the newspaper as a famous hero
  • ⓶ Feed hungry tribbles with regular ones
  • ⓵ Die to a monster and lose 15k gold

Pantheons

Might951
Templehood17979
Gladiatorship595
Storytelling247
Mastery934
Taming3123
Survival831
Savings716
Destruction255
Arkeology1135
Catch1262
Wordcraft642
Soulfulness636
Unity6
Popularity6
Duelery6
Adventure7

Achievements

  • Honored Animalist
  • Honored Favorite
  • Builder, 1st rank
  • Fiend, 1st rank
  • Freelancer, 1st rank
  • Invincible, 1st rank
  • Martyr, 1st rank
  • Moneybag, 1st rank
  • Savior, 1st rank
  • Scribbler, 1st rank
  • Shipwright, 1st rank
  • Champion, 2nd rank
  • Dueler, 2nd rank
  • Hunter, 2nd rank
  • Raider, 2nd rank
  • Soulcatcher, 2nd rank
  • Careerist, 3rd rank
  • Miner, 3rd rank
  • Scientist, 3rd rank
  • Seadog, 3rd rank

Hero's Chronicles

So my Goddess told me the origins of my beginning. This was all she told me: “So yeah, I was totally wasted, and I thought, hey, it’s like, a great idea to like, just pick some random dude, to be, like, my hero and whatnot.” Except I don’t even know if her thought processes were even as coherent as that. I assume it was more like, “Hey? Who’s that dude? BAM. You’re my hero now, so like, do stuff.” So voila. Here I am.

Woe is me. Don’t misunderstand. I mean, my goddess and I, we’re of like mind. We both prefer spending our days separated from reality, inebriated past the point of functionality. Just every once in a while, I’m like, hey, you’re supposed to be the god, right? Isn’t there, like some sort of responsibility that comes with that? But no. Noooooo. That’s not how it works I guess. I think my goddess is worse than me. Oh so much worse. I’m like, the epitome of maturity and sobriety when it comes to her. What’s with this? Whatever. Where’s the flippin’ nearest tavern anyway? I need to forget about this crap and just focus on the good stuff in life. Bartender! Give me a quadruple shot. NOW.

And ever since those early days…well I can’t remember. ’Tis a blur, a swirling mess of nonsense. Just how I like it.

Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa. Slow down, trying to think here! Wait…who am I talking to? Oh yeah, myself. Hey there, you again. Wuz up? Nothing new, eh.

Okay then. Enough of letting my hero ramble by himself. He’s out cold for the moment anyway since I got a little too lightning-happy… Oopsies. Anyway, before he solidly establishes his reputation as nothing but an utter fool, in this singular moment of magnanimity I’m feeling, I would like to relate just one of his exploits for which I’m actually rather proud of him. Loyalty is a beautiful thing after all(Well…this is a stretch, but). It was an amusing night to watch at least, so where credit is due I wanted to commemorate the tale to memory.

And thus, a nightly excerpt from the life of my hero.

The day had been long, weird, and dangerous, as per the usual. And just like every day, the only way to make the end worth it was a bit of prime time at a local bar. Rappscallionn stretched his weary shoulders and cast off the cares of the day, strutting up to a promising looking establishment. The building was worn and decrepit, the door itself hanging crooked on broken hinges. Lights and noisy din filtered through the splintered gaps with a familiar, boisterous welcome, and Rappscallionn accepted the summons.

With a fond kick, he slammed the door open. A few heads from those still vaguely aware turned at the motion, but otherwise there was little reaction. That sort of entrance wasn’t unusual. Rappscallionn breathed in an appreciative whiff of the pungent air, ripe with a plethora of smells better left undescribed. This was the moment he lived for. The day was done, the night was beginning, and standing on the enticing brink between sobriety and inebriated splendor- the moment was obliterated in an instant. A grim sight jarred Rapscallion’s senses, a stark fact that brought his anticipatory high crashing down.

There was someone sitting in his seat.

A smoldering fury bubbled up from the shallows of Rappscallionn’s soul. True…he’d never been to this bar before, but it was a personal habit, a RULE, that he always, always, sat in the left corner barstool, right along the counter strip. The offending occupant was now sprawled with his face planted in the table, clearly unworthy of the coveted position. Rappscallionn mustered his composure, and strode over. “ Excuuuse me,” he addressed the man, barely repressing the seething anger in his voice. “But I must inform you that you happen to be sitting in my seat.”

The man raised his head blearily, wobbling a bit. He stared squintily back at Rappscallionn with a gaping mouth and drool working itself down his chin. “Huh?”
Rappscallionn didn’t have time for patience. He hadn’t even had ONE drink yet. Not since brunch, and that was far too long ago. “I said,” this time not hiding his irritation, “that’s my seat. Move.” The drunk stared some more, blinking in slow motion, before elaborating, “Wha…ths…”

Well, he’d given him a chance. Without further ado, Rappscallionn used his toe to hook the stool’s bottom rung, and jerked. The man went crashing to floor with a satisfying thud, laying still, and Rappscallionn didn’t give him a second thought. Righting the stool, he assumed his rightful throne. All was as it should be now. He jabbed some coins onto the table and ordered, the bartender meandering over with a raised brow and a shot glass. Rappscallionn swigged it, the familiar burn settling nicely. Yes, all was as it should be, and just getting started. The refill was already on its way.

Heavy, ominous shuffling sounded behind him, and after chucking back another heavy shot, he turned to look. A swaying bunch of glaring heroes were lined up menacingly, three to be exact. They all leveled a threatening glower at Rappscallionn. The biggest, most coherent looking one spoke. “That was our guildmate you just dumped on the floor.”

Rappscallionn considered for moment. Turning nonchalantly back to his glass, he tapped for another round. The bartender complied, with a rather resigned look. Another chug, and Rappscallionn finished reflecting. It was a little early, but this development was fine and dandy within itself. He turned to face the wanna-be adversaries. A grin stretched across his face, an amicable feeling of generosity warming his senses. Time to squelch that.

“Is that so? I am… so very not sorry,” he said, looking pleased. Even as their faces darkened, Rappscallionn was slipping off the stool, turning to grasp the seat’s edge with both hands. Without looking, he spun, swinging the chair in a wide arc. A jarring crunch and sound of cracking wood reverberated through his body as it connected with two of the intended victims, glancing off the first and landing solidly on the second, knocking both into each other to collapse bloody and screaming to the floor. The third, the big one, had just barely managed to stumble backward out of harm’s way.

The effect upon the room was instantaneous. A dead silence settled, aside from the wailing victims and one off key singer humming obliviously to himself on the other side of the room. Every head still functioning turned toward the spectacle. Rappscallionn laughed, and the remaining man straightened himself out, rage reddening his face to an unhealthy hue. Words were an obsolete concept by now, and the man issued a garbled bellow as he rushed headlong at Rappscallionn. Rappscallion’s dodge was a bit unsteady, but he was still in a better state than the attacker, who succeeded in ramming the counter face-first. The floor welcomed another guest. Rappscallionn giggled, and lurched over to grab the nearest neighbors drink right out of his unsuspecting hand. He downed it before the surprised customer even registered what happened.

Not enough. The desire to fight had his blood pumping and brain swimming, and that had been nothing more than mere amusement. Time to spark some real entertainment. It wasn’t a night worth mentioning until it was worth forgetting.

The guy robbed of his precious drink honored his wish. A fist cracked into Rappscallionn’s jaw, sent him spinning into the next table over. Exhilarating pain. Rappscallionn’s weight hit the table’s rounded edge and flipped it, sending utensils and beverages flying, scattering former bystanders. Bystanders who were quickly assimilated into the mob mentality. An uncoordinated effort to attack Rappscallionn all at once resulted in clashing heads and mis-timed swings, and more than one comrade fell to friendly-fists.

The ripple effect began. Compromised judgment, opportunistic revenge, and poor aim compounded the violence, sucking in the nearest gawkers one by one, transforming the entire room into a fumbling mass of confused, angry bodies and breaking furniture. A spray of blood here, inarticulate screaming there, inane laughter everywhere, a drunken brawl exhibiting its full glory.

Rappscallionn was currently still on his back amidst the broken remains of the table, straddled by and grappling against an assailant who was determinedly trying to bite. Supremely unnerved by the repeated gnashing of teeth only inches away, Rappscallionn summoned a surge of energy to flip the enemy over his head, using the chance to scrabble away. Working his way back through the flurry, dealing and receiving blows, he finally arrived back at his original corner.

Already covered in blood and bruises, panting heavily, he scrambled atop the bar’s counter top to better observe his handiwork. Most were already down in a writhing, moaning heap, but a few stragglers were still stubbornly wandering around throwing weak swings at the air. Magnificent. Rappscallionn slid down along the wall, slumping on the counter. The bartender was occupied at the other end fending off other attempts to steal bottles, so Rappscallionn helped himself to the shelf next to his head. Twisting the cap off a randomly selected bottle, he took a long, hearty drink. Done, his eyes wandered over the disarray again. A dazed smirk spread over his face, and he raised the bottle high. “ To the Forsaken’s Lament!”