Hero

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Strapping Lad 551

level 128
trader level 4

Get your skirt on, Alfred

Age 13 years 3 months
Personality neutral
Guild Godlike Slugs
(chief master)
Monsters Killed about 835 thousand
Death Count 238
Wins / Losses 118 / 17
Temple Completed at 12/09/2011
Ark Completed at 10/30/2014 (528.3%)
Pairs Gathered at 07/16/2019
Words in Book 88.3%
Shop “Thousand Things”
Pet Inner demon Stitch
Boss Hypnogriff with 72% of power

Equipment

Weapon extra large sword of compensation +137
Shield incognito mode +137
Head eleven-gallon hat +138
Body suit of l'amour +137
Arms shoulders of fortune +138
Legs jingle belt +137
Talisman pendant of immorality +137

Skills

  • teeth gnashing level 163
  • flying bird level 155
  • heel grip level 150
  • selfish interest level 150
  • fake smile level 144
  • save-load level 141
  • street magic level 134
  • cry of horror level 133
  • exhaust of the dragon level 120
  • opacity control level 118

Feats

  • ⓶ Feed hungry tribbles with regular ones
  • ⓵ Die to a monster and lose 15k gold

Pantheons

Gratitude7
Might1152
Templehood186
Gladiatorship796
Storytelling96
Unity387

Achievements

  • Honored Favorite
  • Honored Shipwright
  • Animalist, 1st rank
  • Builder, 1st rank
  • Hunter, 1st rank
  • Invincible, 1st rank
  • Martyr, 1st rank
  • Moneybag, 1st rank
  • Raider, 1st rank
  • Saint, 1st rank
  • Savior, 1st rank
  • Champion, 2nd rank
  • Coach, 2nd rank
  • Fiend, 2nd rank
  • Freelancer, 2nd rank
  • Renegade, 2nd rank
  • Scribbler, 2nd rank
  • Careerist, 3rd rank
  • Scientist, 3rd rank

Hero's Chronicles

Why of course. Thank you for asking. It would be an honor and a pleasure.

Just think, not very long ago, I was sitting quietly, nursing a nice lager, feeling sorry for all the lugnuts hauling themselves over hill and dale completing meaningless quests, groveling for gold bricks, all in service to beings that I didn’t really believe exist, or, if they did, rarely seemed to do anyone any good.

And now I’ve been duped into becoming one of them. It is a small world, after all. A small world and a cruelly funny one.

I was minding my own business, not doing a stitch of harm to anyone. And then she comes into my life, all coy smiles, batting eyelashes, warm light, and ponderous vocabulary, asking for just one little favor. Well, what was I supposed to say? As if you would do anything different in that same situation.

Why couldn’t she just leave me to lead my own life? She doesn’t even know my name. She just calls me “strapping lad.” I ask so little – just to be left alone, in my quiet corner at the tavern. And she shows up with her cool hands and soothing voice, purring about needing someone strong and brave to share news of her awesomeness with all of Godville. And I had to go and tell her that it would be my pleasure.

And now I’m trapped. Trapped like a rat. What else can you say when someone like that asks you such a thing? I most certainly will not share news of your awesomeness with all of Godville? I’ll see you in hell before I share news of your awesomeness with all of Godville? Why, thank you, I’d love to, but I’ve got tickets for the arena championship? No. No, there was nothing for me to do but say it would be an honor and a pleasure. I’d love to share news of your awesomeness with all of Godville.

I expected we’d find a bamboo grove, or maybe a hay loft, whichever was closer, and “lose track of time” together. Then I’d have a nice story with a nudge and a wink to share with my mates or anyone else within earshot, plus a phone number to etch into every bar rail from here to Herolympus: “for a truly awesome time, call YEG…”

I’d love to share news of your awesomeness with all of Godville. I’d love to have my wisdom teeth out. I’d love to die in a fire. Well, it’s too late now. Oh. Oh, dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Oh, this is even worse than I thought it would be. I suppose that’s the one thing on which you can depend in this life – everything is worse than you thought it was going to be. Oh, if I’d had any real grasp of what I was getting into, I’d have held out for that surly toadfish of a barmaid.