Nock an arrow, friend, and hear this bow speak in elvish tongues “swift defeat to my enemies.” Making an Attack while speaking the Command phrase, "Swift death to you who have wronged me," will result in the bow declaring the target its Sworn Enemy. It swore an oath, and your enemies will bow. No, this article is all about boosting that 1d8 piercing damage without touching your characters attributes, but more importantly it is about cool items and that sweet, sweet lore. “But Chris, a good class has nothing to do with magic or cool weapons, it is all in the character build.” Well, listen here illusory effigy of an outraged and argumentative commentator, we aren't talking builds today. Here are 10 bows to eldritch blast that cantrip spamming, robe wearing, demon lover back to the front lines so you can do what you do best, and Let 'em FLY! Lackluster in combat in low levels, and out shined by the warlock at higher levels, the poster-class for Legolas fans could use a buff or two. The Ranger is so often passed by that even after 10 years of nearly weekly play I have never built a dedicated master of the bow. The Ranger, a classic image of a Dungeons & Dragons character if there ever was one, is not as often maligned as their unarmed friend, the Monk, but is perhaps more overlooked. No one was safe, mortal or immortal, and he knew it.Pick up these bows the next time you're in town, and bring your damage game to the next level. In that moment one thousand years of self-control went up in flames, setting a dangerous predator free. A low growl rumbled in his throat his pale eyes glowed a feral red. On stage, two assistants began chaining her, their hands touching her soft skin, their bodies brushing hers. Hunger rose sharply, dangerously, ferociously. The beast raised its head and eyed her, marked her, claimed her. He let the pain wash over him, through him. His fingers curled slowly around the back of a stadium seat, digging deeply, leaving visible impressions of a man’s fingers in the metal. His body swelled, hardened, every muscle taut, hot, aching. His pale eyes slid over her small, perfect figure, and need slammed into him. Nothing but the growing darkness, the stain spreading across his soul. Nothing but the crouching beast, hungry, insatiable. He had endured nearly a thousand years of black emptiness. Savannah Dubrinsky, one of the world’s greatest magicians. Her trademark dark glasses concealed her eyes but drew attention to her lush mouth, perfect teeth, and classic cheekbones. Small pearl buttons down the front were open from hem to thigh, revealing enticing glimpses of shapely legs.
DND DARK MIND MAGIC FULL
A white Victorian lace gown covered her body, cupping high, full breasts and molding her narrow rib cage and tiny, tucked-in waist.
Thick blue-black hair cascaded in waves to her slim hips. Mystical, mysterious, a mix of innocence and seduction, she moved with the grace of an enchantress. Then she emerged from the mist, every man’s fantasy, every man’s dream of hot, steamy nights. He blended into the shadows, his pale silver gaze riveted to the stage. On stage a column of mist rose eerily from the spot where, a moment before, the magician herself had stood. The magic show-combining feats of escape, disappearance, and mystery-was almost finished, and a hush of breathless anticipation had fallen over the crowd.
He walked past the guards without hesitation, secure in the knowledge that they could not detect his presence. The stadium in this modern city was huge, with thousands of people packed inside. He already had enormous power and strength, and he knew that the rush, addicting though it might be, was the same illusory high the humans’ drugs provided. After all his centuries of walking the earth, he knew the whispered promises were empty. The city was the perfect hunting ground.īut he had fed well that day, so even though the blood whispered to him, tempting him with the promise of strength, power, the seductive rush of excitement, he refrained from indulging his cravings. Their scents were strong in his nostrils. He walked among them, unseen, undetected, moving with the fluid grace of a jungle predator. The night was alive with the heartbeats of countless people.
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