Razor

A giant of a man clad in a metallic suit of plate armor. From that armor protrudes all manner of sharp ends and points, eluding to how troublesome attacks made against him must be. Those jagged edges also portray his manner of combat, using his body where most would utilize a weapon. The endless bog seems rather uninviting to say the least, as stagnant pools glint vaguely under undercast skies. The woods themselves provide little solace, and the stagnant stench was unpleasant and abrasive to the senses. "THIS SMELLS LIKE BUTTCHEEKS. THE RAZOR IS DISCOURAGED FROM PROCEEDING." The man booms imme

Battle Healing +4 HP There was still a small little speck in the distance still standing on the boulder. Realizing that that was the ring master, the one that was sending all those maniacs to attack him. He would give a glaring smile, pull up his pants and start walking toward him. "YOU, YOU MUST DIE” was all he said. Sitting at the bar stool at the counter with a pounding of both fists on the table this time. “THE RAZOR IS STARVING AND MUST HAVE THE EGGS IN A CUP AGAIN. GIVE THE RAZOR EGG CUP” The thought of pulling all the limbs off, then the head, then smashing the body of the tin

Battle Healing +4 HP The dust storm would begin to settle but the Razor would not. They all had to die, every last one of them. Then and only then could he get more food in his system. Almost out of breath he would stop moving and sit up. Glancing around his immediate area there was nothing there but rock chucks. He felt a little sore and his armor was a bit dented but that was to be expected. He would just have to crack the dents out with his fists later when he was not in a field of nothing. Getting to his feet, hoping that he was almost done here. His stomach would not shut up. If you

Battle Healing +4 HP Quickly laying on his back, rolling left a few times then back tracking a rolling right. “THE RAZOR DEMANDS THAT YOU ALL DIE” it sounds muffled given that there is a lot of movement going on right now. He was starving again, it feels like he has been here all day. He would eat the rocks themselves but he knew that it was not in his food group to do so. At the very least he was getting his exercise for the day. He was already sweating up a storm and he could only imagine how he must smell to others that he might stroll by to get to said bathing area. All these things h

Battle Healing +4 HP The more he killed, the more they would spawn or show up out of seemingly nowhere. It was an endless battle of stupid. More so because the dust storm actually became a storm because of all the spinning dirt around. The simple reason why Razor had not stopped yet was because he could not see a damn thing in all these makeshift clouds that he made. Getting a cramp in his hip from being in a circle for so long, he would collapse into a tumbling mess taking a few out with him. Laying on his back now looking up and seeing nothing but brown above him, he could feel tiny vib

Battle Healing +4 HP When he got close enough the tiny shiny golem raised its small round rock hand and yelled something in a weird language that he could not understand. It was then that he felt the ground begin to shake under his feet as what looked like a dust storm was heading straight for him. Pointing his pointer finger out toward the stampede, “BRING IT ON TINY LIFE LIKE ROCKS, THE RAZOR WILL CRUSH YOU” saying as he would pull his pants slightly up, readjust the armor pieces connecting to his shoulders, takes a deep breath and started running right to them as fast as he could just

Battle Healing +4 HP One by one they bust into nothing. Small glowing shards were falling slowly in front of him. It was pretty in its own way. At one point he would even try to catch them with the attempt failing miserably. When they were all down and gone he would look around for more. It was then that he realized that this tree was the last standing up right. All the others were broken at their base. “DID THE RAZOR DO THIS?” His eyes follow each tree through his helmet that was dead or slightly slanted by his rolling expedition. Shrugging his shoulder as he would continue trying to fin

Battle Healing +4 HP Holding a hand to the tree trying to keep his balance as he glanced around in the area to find more. Getting pelted in the head once more, he would look up at several that managed to get onto the tree branches. They were jumping up and down, there were about 20 of them that he could count. Glancing to the ground to see what they were throwing at him, it was tree bark. How the tiny golems managed to strip the tree’s naked with nothing more than rock fist as hands was beyond him. “THE RAZOR DEMAND YOU TO COME DOWN AT ONCE” saying in an angry voice the echoes into the no

Battle Healing +4 HP Making his way to the trees, he sets his vision on a smaller boulder. Taking a seat, it would almost instantly crumble with the pressure of his weight causing him to fall ass first to the ground. He would hear what sounded like a screeching sound then feel a pop underneath his butt. “THE RAZOR HAS FOUND YOU, COME OUT AND PLAY WITH THE RAZOR” he would say in such a loud voice that some of them would scatter in different directions to get away from him. Smashing his hands against the ones that he could see without turning in any specific direction. He would then roll ba

Battle Healing +4 HP One would climb up his leg, he would kick up to fling the mini golem in the air before smashing it with his fist, like a baseball bat against a ball, causing it to shatter into nothing. Another would crawl up his back, he would fall straight back onto the ground and roll backwards up using the momentum of his weight for help. It would crush under his armor. The other two leaped onto both shoulders but before they could stop they impaled themselves on his spikes. It was quiet for the moment. There were no others around, still wondering how that could be. There were lit

Battle Healing +4 HP He saw nothing in front of him. This made him a bit confused as to where they all went. They were just here, how could they just vanish like that. Completely confused at the fact, he suddenly gets pelted in the back of the head. “THE RAZOR DID NOT LIKE THAT VERY MUCH” calling out as his head turns to see a small group of them just standing there watching him with tiny pebbles in their hands getting ready to throw them at him. It was like a staring contest between Razor and those little beady eyes. All of a sudden they all chuck the ammunition all at once and instantly

Battle Healing +4 HP “THE RAZOR IS DONE WITH THE BEES” calling out as he gets up to his feet and leaps forward belly first. From just his weight alone the poor thing shatters into pieces underneath his frame. Razor could feel a few pop under his armor. Glancing up he was staring right at one of these rock golems. They really couldn’t be more than a few inches in length and width. His calculations could also be a bit off because anything smaller than him literally felt something equivalent to a dime. “YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF THE RAZOR’S TIME” saying as he brings a fist swiftly up, straight i

Standard Recovery +1 EN, Battle Healing +4 HP Like throwing snow balls at a rapid pace during a snowball fight, Razor was throwing little rocks with beady eyes at their friends. “THE RAZOR WILL WIN, YOU DO NOT STAND A CHANCE AGAINST THE RAZOR!” He burst out as more escaped from just over this small cliff side he was sitting in front of. They would run and launch themselves off the little incline, Razor would catch them and swiftly throw them back like a baseball player would when playing ball. Finally getting up, he was moving his shoulders to make the horns on his armor connect to the th

Standard Recovery +1 EN, Battle Healing +4 HP Eyes to the ground following the trail. They come to an end in another hole that seemed to lean nowhere. Raising his head, smacking it on a rock above him. Razor was wondering why it had gotten dark so quickly, now he knew that it was from a rock that oversaw his frame while crawling. Moving backwards just enough for his back to be revealed, Razor would feel a bunch of somethings jumping on top of him. Back pedaling faster so that he would have a view of the culprits. It was the weirdest feeling, like pop rock candy on his back. When he finall

Standard Recovery +1 EN, Battle Healing +4 HP “THE RAZOR ROCK SANDWICH” calling out as Razor belly flops on the entire group. Razor could feel each single pop of them dying. “YOUR TICKLING THE RAZOR, STOP IT” saying as he rolls around on the ground to smash what he could. Razor did not like that feeling that the tiny rocks were doing, Razor had to stop them. After a while Razor would stop rolling and look back to what Razor had destroyed so far. There was nothing there, was the Razor imagining that they were there and flopped onto nothing? Right in front of his face there were tiny round

Standard Recovery +1 EN, Battle Healing +4 HP Turning to see what the status of the hole was, there was a swarm of them coming out and running at him. It was almost like he poked the bees nest. “THIS MAKES THE RAZOR VERY HAPPY, COME TO THE RAZOR.” Readjusting something on his armor, he would bend his knees slightly staring out at the rocks stampeding toward him. One hops at him as Razor throws his first forward, hitting it square in its tiny circle chest. Eventually instead of socking them he starts using his arm as a bat. “THE RAZOR WANTS YOU TO BRING IT BETTER.” These simpletons were do

Standard Recovery +1 EN, Battle Healing +4 HP “THERE, THE RAZOR MADE IT EASIER FOR YOU” maybe sitting still would help them. It did a few times. He would feel a few lunges against his back, it didn’t phase him. Not even a jerk forward, he was a billion times their size. They had no chance in hell of making him move even an inch in their favor. Smashing his fists against the ground on either side, that was when the razor realized that they were all standing behind him. Flopping backwards, curling himself with all the momentum that he could muster up crushing every small simpletons behind h

Standard Recovery +1 EN, Battle Healing +4 HP Backing up for a moment, there was nothing. He had to figure out something else. Using his extreme arm span he grabs the boulder, picking the entire thing up and chucking it ten feet to the right. Seeing a hole in the middle of the divot. Taking a water bottle out, opening it and pouring it in the hole. Razor would hear them clanking together. Backing up “YES COME TO THE RAZOR, YOUR ABSENCE IS MAKING THE RAZOR BORED” remarking as they climb out seeming like they were huffing and puffing. After a few moments they start to run around him. They t

Standard Recovery +1 EN, Battle Healing +4 HP One dives out of the hole the moment he shows his face. It would cling to his helmet, he would smash his face against the boulder. It would burst and he would get blinding slightly from the shiny shards that float to the ground “THE RAZOR DOES NOT THINK THAT WAS VERY NICE” saying in an outrage as he started to play whack a mole with the remaining that were coming out one by one. He was using his feet as the hammer and the hole was what the heads popped out from. If he had an audience, one would think it to be rather entertaining. It was almost

Standard Recovery +1 EN, Battle Healing +4 HP Glancing around seeing more coming from a hole in the side of the rock. He would run toward them as they ran toward him. “THE RAZOR WILL SAVE YOU THE TROUBLE” as he jumps at the small group on rock things, belly flopping on one of them. He would begin to roll back and forth as the creatures crumble under his weight. Getting to his feet, looking for more. There were small rock piles everywhere that had not yet burst. “WHAT IS WRONG, IS THE RAZOR TOO MUCH FOR THE LITTLE GOLEM’S?” he would say really loud so that hopefully they would hear him. Sm

He might have gotten maybe three or four full eggs into his mouth. He could hear laughter behind him but the joke was on them, he didn't give a shit. Taking the cloth that the man behind the counter was using, he cleans off the front of his helmet and dumps a handful of col on the service before slamming the cup on the wooden top and walking out of the bar. He had stuff to do today like try out his new gear. Walking out into the large clearing somewhere on floor 5, there had to be things out here somewhere that would attack him. Tiny rocks looking things start to run at him at full speed.

Kicking open the bar door, people were looking at him like he was crazy but he just walked right by the round tables to sit at a bar stool. “THE RAZOR REQUIRES FOOD” was all he said as a fist bangs on top of the counter top. The bar keeper just stands there staring wide eyed holding a glass with a cloth in the other hand half way inside trying to wipe it clean. The man behind the counter sets the cup down, turns and sets a tall glass on the counter in front of him. Opening the small fridge behind him, he would pull out a carton of eggs. Cracking 6 eggs open and into the glass, he would push th

Strolling out of the woodwork like a giant jagged pinecone that fell out of one of the palm trees. Because that clearly made any sort of sense. A man clad in an utterly downright excessive plate mail with all manner of sharp angles and bits of protruding metal that screamed to all that bore witness 'Please, lose an eye here.' like the business end of a bb gun on Christmas. A glance to all the smattering of players of colors a plenty, like box of mike and ikes the colors and flavors were a proclamation of diversity. The music playing was honey to the eardrum, a swan song. Or in this case a seag

An absolute brick house of a man sat perched in the middle of a field, legs folded as he lay on his back. A collected pile of rather sharp looking armor sat in a smattering to his right side, as he rested on a black mat in the middle of that clearing. Only thing still on was a small black speedo and his helmet. The repeated repetitions would play out in grunts, as his skin glossed with a mixture of sweat and wax. Elbows held out to both sides as he'd fold his abdomen and pull himself up to his kneecaps, turning his core twice tapping his chiseled elbows in the opposed before falling back down.

The jagged peaks of the mans armor continue to rake and jab at every object that he passes by, like a fist full of knives clutched in the most obtuse and dangerous way. Quest boards, door frames, buckets you name it. The sheer sharpened edges of the man would cut everything, so much so that other players usually gave him a wide enough distance. Into a tavern the man enters and he positions himself on a barstool, the countertop being scratched up and the stool itself impaled on the points on his backside. A barkeeper approaches the porcupine of a player, notably a few extra paces from him to av