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ABRAXAS
Welcome back! We hope you enjoyed that sixty-three minute bagpipe and cowbell rendition of Simon and Garfunkle’s Sounds of Silence as played by the K’Bold cover band, Blow My Cow. This is Gowan Sukiht, K’bold reporter with the next interview in our ongoing series about the orphan creating band of treasure grubbers and habitual masturbators (allegedly) that have been running around Murderer’s Castle. The Blessed Corfard has a higher purpose for all the downtrodden races and these ridiculous mouth breathers are storming from room to room perforating kobolds, goblins, and even hobgoblins, putting a real damper on our good benefactors work.
After the last session, a number of you had contacted us asking why we wasted our time with the facially born waddling pubic hair, Kovid, as our first subject. Truthfully? He was cheap and available. But for this program we have reached deeper to bring you the heavy hitter of this quintet. As you know, the best fighters are also the best leaders, guiding the clans and tribes with their strength of arms, sterling character, insightful wit, and even temperedness.
This galumphing sack of wine seems to be missing every one of those traits. Let’s welcome, Abraxas Salazar. Hello and welcome.
“Um. Do I have to wait to roll for initiative?”
No. This isn’t a combat situation, just an interview.
“I think I want to declare an attack. Can I use a quick action to draw my espada?”
Haha, no seriously. There isn’t any fighting going on here.
“I don’t hear the initiative dice rolling. Does this count as la sorpresa round? I serious want to punalada you, hokay?”
Tell you what, manmeat, let us get through this travesty and I’ll make sure you can poke something.
“¿Promesa?”
Sure. *sigh* So, let’s start at the beginning. You’re not a local boy are you?
“No, no. I do not live here in thees ruined castle.”
Yeah, I guessed. But I mean, you aren’t from around here.
“Um, no. *louder and slower* I..do..not..live..here..in..thees..ruined..castle!”
Grrr. You were born in another country, yes?
“Si! Not here!”
Where, if I can ask.
“Si, you can ask.”
Ask what?
“Your question. I am waiting.”
For what?
“I don’t know. This is your interview. I am merely waiting to stab you as soon as I hear los dados fall.”
You know what, forget about it. That should be easy for you. So, how tall are you? A lot of our listeners were under the impression you were pushing 6’ 5”.
“Non, that is the buildup they do before shows by adding height to make the fighters seem larger than life.”
Truly.
“Si. I am 5 foot, 10 inches, and ¾ inches tall.”
Didn’t know they could stack shit that high.
“Pardon?”
Nevermind. Wow, not even six feet. I guess your profile says 6’ plus though.
“Mi perfil is seen from the side, Senor Gargon, and the ladies have never complained.”
Unlike our listeners. So, you look pretty built.
“Si! Before we left me casa, I weighed in at 234 lbs.”
*whistling noise*
“I like to think I’m pretty built, I don’t work out or exercise and get most of my resultados working on zee docks.”
Lots of lifting?
“*nods* Also, I try to pick what I eat, I am a simple man…”
No shit.
“Pardon?”
Nothing, go on. Simple…?
“I eats meats, bread, cheese, alcohol, fruits – and tomatoes, which I was told recently is a fruit, but that is loco. Most of my meals come from ships and vendors at the docks. Helps to give me my athletic build.”
Can’t argue with results. You seem pretty plugged in to healthy eating.
“Sometimes, mostly I just try to live a good life. When I am spending my pesos on cervezas and putas, I want to have the energy to pound la perras cara abajo and not get winded.”
Yeah, I can see them lining up to meet your meat.
“I like to think of myself as something between Antonio Banderas in Desperado and Gaston from Beauty and the Beast.”
I have no idea who any of those people are.
“Ha! No one fucks likes Gaston, no one sucks like Gaston…”
Please, please just don’t.
“Bah, great song. But I know I am a catch. Oscuro brown hair, eyes like chocolat, skin like toasted olives. I keep my cabello long, but tied back, non? Good idea when fighting greenskins and anklebiters and Roberts.”
That’s just rude, you know? I’m right here.
“But you don’t count. None of you do.”
Wow. Such a big dick.
“Non, that is my belly, not my polla. I gots a bit of extra meat on my skin, but that keeps me real.”
I noticed you couldn’t bother shaving for this meeting.
“Normally yes, I am clean shaven, but this trip has me growing some stubble and I do not like it. Makes me look dwarvish.”
Not unless you spend another 9 months growing that. 3 years if you were Dean.
“Now I do not know who that is.”
Not a problem, he’s no one. Seriously. So, all in all, you are a simple man with simple tastes and likes simple things, correct?
“Si. I make no secret of who I am. I am a dockhand who lifts all day, every day. El Sol beats on me, agua salada all around. Mis manos are callused, mi skin is tough y you can count on me to give you a big smile.” *clattering noise* “Was that dice? I attack!”
Worry not listeners, your august reporter Gowan Sukiht was unharmed and let’s just say, his sword had little steel in it. We did get lucky enough to also get the overall impression of this mildly retarded baby killer from two of his companions, the skunk weed smelling toymaker Wyn D’Endee and the pedovan dodgeball victim Lannis Offop. Their longer interviews will appear later in the broadcast.
First, the rambling barely identifiable mumblings of the inbred fairy, Wyn:
“Monseiur Salazar? I ain't much know your what he be lookin' like. *shrug* He always got dat 'elmet on! Dough I do know he be one big bruisa of a 'uman. Dah type that usetah pick tings up en put em down for a livin'... probly be still doin' dat job cept for dee Tensa's floatin' disk accident by dee docks.”
“En for some reason I picture 'im wit a big ol' beard... dough I don't know where he be 'iding it under dat 'elmet. Brown 'air. Brown eyes. Paler skin den you'd spect from a 'uman dat works outside... but be de vikin' blood I been 'earing bout.”
As you can see, little to say about another party member but that is to be expected from a race of people who get carpal tunnel syndrome in their eyes from looking at the mirror 22/6 if given the chance.
Following we captured this portion of Lannis’ thoughts about his fighting companion:
“Abraxas is a big, brutish man with a farmer’s tan. I haven't seen it yet under the armor and what not, but it’s clearly there. Tall and muscular, he clearly spent the time that I spent training my mind lifting heavy objects. Barrels, by his own admission. An admission I expect to be at least part lie, since last I checked most barrels don't teach one the skill at arms that he seems to possess.”
“While we're talking about lies, I'm pretty sure that accent is fake, it sounds ridiculous. Not sure who convinced him that bed head was a good hair style, can't imagine that working on a woman, should they get past the accent somehow, but I imagine it was the same person who told him that adventurers don't have to shave when out on a quest.”
“He takes care of his equipment well enough, so I suppose he decided to act professionally for some parts of this adventure. I've certainly met worse, and he's seemed happy enough to get stuck in when needed. Too happy, perhaps, but certainly better than the alternative.”
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