Walter is a loser. A green loser . a 5'11" 40lb green loser.
Likes maidens (fair and unfair).
W@lter Jerbr@lter is a loser. Not only is he a loser, but he’s a green loser at that. Yes, W@lter is in fact a goblin from the forbidden realm of darkness. He was sent to earth by the goblin king because he failed to be a good goblin. So here W@lter stands, a stranger in a strange land.
W@lter looks at his puny pink house that the goblin king exiled him to. It has no bathroom. Crap. He finds some old boards in the back where the previous tenant had destroyed the back of the house due to a zombie infestation. He builds an outhouse. As he admires the ugliness of his new fecal retaining facility he notices the neighbors. They’re human. Even more crap. “There goes the neighborhood,” he thinks. Its not that W@lter is racist. Its just…
Before W@lter could finish his thought he notices that a mob of filthy humans had started to accumulate. “INSIDE!” W@lters brain screams to him. He quicky escapes the terrifying encounter. They attempt to beat down his plasterboard door. “Their strength is minimal but their numbers are great.” W@lter muses and he baricades the door with his plastic picnic chair.
After a long restless night of constant knockings and goings on W@lter rubs his somnolent eyes. He takes in, once again, his newfound pigsty of a dwelling. Bathroom. W@lter peeks out his window before slipping quietly outside. His door latches. W@lter Jerbralter turns and is immediately nose to nose with his worst enemy and fear…HUUUUUUUMMMMAAAAAAAANNNNN!!!! W@lter turns quickly back to his door and tries to open. LOCKED!?!?! The filth ridden rat of a primate touched W@lter’s shoulder. “DARKSPIRAL AURA!!! Immediate interrupt, 5d6!”. A giant blast of rainbow colored necrotic energy blasts from his puny hands.
Unfortunately….or fortunately…magic in this realm that he had been banished to had a different effect than normal. W@lter attempts to stand. Instead he painfully meets the ceiling. W@lter tries to gather his direction. Apparently his direction is scattered on the floor. Something smells purple.
W@lter opens his eyes. A wizard stands over him. “Wh…” The wizard interrupts him by shoving a healing potion in his cracked lips. “You are in the Hall of Shemesh. I am Layla the wizard of night. You appeared on our doorstep last night turned completely inside out. It took alot of magic but we think we have you sorted out but the medical bill will be 2 platinum coins. Do you have insurance?” W@lter, puzzled, tries to ask what insurance is, but a health potion bottle still in his mouth made him unintelligible. “If you can’t pay,” the wizard starts before W@lter can get his mouth out of the bottle, “then you can work for us. We have some things that still need to be taken care of. First the bathrooms are filthy and we need some cleaning potions. Go to the town of Fallcrest. They have some there.”
W@lter, as soon as he is able to walk again, sets out.