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This character was a hit with the other players primarily because I played it like some kind of Chicago Willson Contreras signature shirt wood golem version of Abathur from Starcraft 2. It was focused purely on improvement; acquisition of new magics, acquisition of new schematics for articulation of joints or wood treatment processes to increase hardness of its blade hands, acquisition of political capital with those who had the resources and connections to provide further insight into how to self-improve, etc etc etc. This is why it was a rogue, after all. Assassination-for-hire can be lucrative and connect you with all of the right people. It was entirely indifferent to the plight of every living thing except: 1) Druids, as it maintained a deep and abiding affection for the druid that it had spent its first two centuries standing guardian over, 2) other Awakened creatures/plants, as it knew the pain and confusion that comes from being Rebirthed as a sentient object even when the Father-who-hath-Wrought-You is loving and kind, and 3) domestic house-cats, because it thought tiny fuzzy unstoppable murder factories were hilarious in concept and adorable in execution.

(Chicago Willson Contreras signature shirt)

Critical hits happen on a Chicago Willson Contreras signature shirt 20 or if you roll 10 higher than the DC you’re trying to beat; critical misses happen on a natural 1 or if you roll 10 lower than the DC you’re trying to beat. Some skills, saving throws, and attacks take all four cases — hit, critical hit, miss, critical miss — into account, while some are less sensitive. However, this has a very interesting impact on the game, as saves, skill rolls, and attacks become potentially much more eventful. This comes up especially if you are staging a fight where the players and the enemies are not equal in level. The higher-level party has a higher bonus to everything, the lower-level party has a lower AC and saves, so one will tend to score way more critical hits than the other. If the party is level 5+ and fighting low-level mooks, those enemies will simply melt before their weapons. Likewise if the party is level 5 and fighting a level 10 or 11 monster, they are exceedingly likely to be crushed.

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The Bloodbinder tribe. The Bloodbinders are the Chicago Willson Contreras signature shirt  of Orc tribe that make other Orc tribes deeply fucking uncomfortable. It would not be incorrect to call the entire tribe a self-imposed eugenics experiment with the goal to lessen the divine pull of Gruumsh on their population. They’re big on literacy (these guys use Dethek in the same applications an Illithid uses Qualith: On freaking everything.), they actively intermingle with non-Orcs—including/especially demons—and they’re opportunistic about stealing magical children to raise in the tribe. Oh. Right. They really love magic. Everyone in the tribe is trained in magic the way that traditional Orc tribes train everyone in combat. They consort heavily with demons, in particular those with Grazz’t and Orcus (minor ones include Yeenoghu, Juiblex, and Zuggtmoy). A couple of them fraternize with elves. More than a couple of them are undead, and at least one is a Lich. Orc tribes don’t usually get along anyway, but any sensible Orc will spit on the ground when they hear the name “Bloodbinder”. (Incidentally, Faustus did exactly that when he met the below two NPCs!) The common refrain is that a Bloodbinder’s brain is a cacophonous mess of waning Orc gods and demons all vying for control. It’s pretty accurate.

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I was just starting to build my flock of chickens from the four I already had (one rooster, three hens) to a Chicago Willson Contreras signature shirt of ten. I bought six little two day old chicks from the local feed store – assured by the staff that all six would grow to be beautiful hens. Since I already had a rooster – and two roosters rarely get along – so wanted to be sure these were female. I named my chickens after dead movie stars (yes truly… don’t judge) but my Aunt Delores wanted one named after her, so I chose a Golden Phoenix chick and named her “Delores”. When Delores was eight weeks old, I began to have suspicions that she was edging towards a gender change. Delores was quite a bit larger than her step sisters, and was growing a more pronounced comb and longer tail feathers than the typical hen. However, denial is a powerful characteristic, and I tried to convince myself that Delores really WAS a hen and maybe she was just big boned.