Description
This svirfneblin stands with a lean grace, small as a child yet coiled like a
spring, all sinew and shadow. His skin is the color of old slate, slick with
dampness, gleaming faintly beneath the breathless cavern light like wet stone
polished by time and sorrow. His face bears the clever, sharp-boned cast of a
fox, cheekbones high, jaw tapering to a blade. There is mischief in that
face, and more than mischief. His eyes are pale and sly, glinting of someone
who has seen much and just smiles at most of it. His silver hair is wild,
defiant, a thicket of dark strands twisted upward as if by storm or spite,
yet there's method in the madness, a practiced disarray that lends him the
air of one who could charm a knife into your ribs with a compliment. His grin
never quite shows its teeth, always curled at the edge, sly and unspoken,
like the whisper of silk sliding off a bed.
Role
It was Ninch
Added Sat Jun 7 20:52:25 2025 at level 14:
Ninch wasn't even his real name. It was the name left after the others were
gone. A name stitched together from ruins, from whispered things said by
children with broken teeth and grown men with broken minds. It wasn't
amnesia. No, that would have been kinder. He remembered plenty, just not the
way he used to. Not the way he had remembered. Not the way the man before
Ninch had clung to it all, like driftwood in a storm.
That man had it all. A family, a home carved out of stone and hope, a
business passed down from father to son like a curse pretending to be a
legacy. He wore duty like a noose and called it purpose. Kissed his wife on
the cheek, checked the ledger, taught his children not to ask why. Every day,
the same polite nightmare. A heartbeat beneath someone else's skin.
Then it started to rot. Quietly. A late payment here, a lie uncovered there.
His wife, colder with each season. His son flinching when he raised his
voice. The business bleeding coin, and him bleeding pride to keep it upright.
Eventually, she took the children. Then the house. Then the name. Left him
with echoes and dust and a lockbox of letters he never opened.
That's when Ninch happened.
Ninch wasn't born. Ninch arrived. Crawled up from the deep places like a grin
with too many teeth. Ninch didn't cry or beg or blame. Ninch smiled. Ninch
thanked the loss. Ninch looked at the ashes and said, "Now we can begin." He
didn't mourn the man who had everything. He killed him. Buried him under
silence and chalk symbols and laughter that didn't quite reach the eyes.
Now he walks. Laughs. Steals names and gives back truths no one asked for. He
doesn't build. He unbuilds. And when people say "Ninch," they don't say it
with affection.
Ninch knew it all along. Not in the way most people know something, the way
they know how to boil water or smile at the right time. No, Ninch knew it in
his bones, in the cracked marrow where the old man's regrets used to live.
Whoever he'd been before? That poor bastard thought he was unlucky. Thought
the world had just picked him for punishment, and he'd taken it like a
martyr, wringing his hands, biting his tongue, watching everything collapse
while still trying to sweep the ashes into neat little piles.
Some called it self-sabotage. Ninch just called it clever.
Missing coins down the floor grate. Pissing on his wife's clothes and blaming
the dog. Giving raises to the lazy ones and firing the loyal. Crashing the
books with glee and spite, flipping off his father's portrait on the wall
while the accounts bled dry. He'd say it wasn't him, that it wasn't him, and
technically he'd be right.
It was Ninch. It had always been Ninch.
New World. Same Problems.
Added Sat Jun 7 20:52:50 2025 at level 14:
The part of him that whispered, What if we just stopped pretending? And when
it all finally burned, he stepped out of the wreckage grinning like a man
seeing the sky for the first time.
He took up shapeshifting after that. Made sense. Wearing other skins felt
honest, somehow. Better than wearing his own. His was too full of
expectations, promises, faces. Every form taught him something.
That was freedom. That was the truth buried under family heirlooms and
wedding vows and business meetings. You're not your name. Not your job. Not
your children.
You're what's left when it's all gone. And Ninch? Ninch likes what's left.
When he got to the surface world, he saw it everywhere. The same tight
collars. The same long faces. People pretending they were free because no one
was holding a knife to their throat, never noticing the one they kept pressed
to their own heart. The same lies repeated with different accents. Different
flags. Same rut. Same rot.
They were all just earlier versions of him. Him-before-Ninch. Swallowing
their rage, collecting trophies that didn't mean shit, buying things to prove
they were real. All of them waiting for permission to fall apart.
Man, what a drag, he said.
They needed what he had. The good stuff. The venom. The release. Maybe he
could help them. Yeah. Why not?
He started small. A few whispered truths in the ears of beggars and guards.
An anonymous chalk mark at the edge of a temple wall. A bag of coin left
beside a corpse, just to make someone ask why. He didn't want followers. He
wanted disruption. He wanted cracks. Because cracks let the light in, and
sometimes, if you're lucky, they let everything else fall out.
Ninch was never a prophet. He was a push. He didn't preach salvation. He
offered matches. All you had to do was strike.
And if someone burned down their life and wept in the ruins? Well. Ninch
would pat them on the back and say, Good start.
Walking the Knife's Edge
Added Thu Jun 12 18:40:27 2025 at level 51:
So, Ninch was a Sentinel now. Not because he believed in balance. Because he
knew no one else could be trusted with it.
The Reavers were easy, they came screaming. Ash on their breath, eyes full of
zeal and soot. They thought fire was cleansing. That the world needed to be
cleared. The Wardens weren't better. Whisperers. Dreamers. Building gardens
in a graveyard, hoping something would grow besides ghosts.
And both sides wanted to win. That was the problem. Ninch didn't want to win.
He wanted the game to stop making sense.
He didn't dress different. Didn't start giving speeches. No feathers or
tattoos or antlers blooming from his spine like the others. He kept to the
edges. That's where balance lives anyway, on the knife's edge, not in the
middle.
That the world wasn't fair. That the tree didn't care who planted it, only
whether it grew.
He learned to speak in the pauses between words. He started showing up when
neither side expected him. He started to feel it then. The tilt. Not of
power. Of the world.
He didn't want to destroy order. He wanted to tilt the floor. So gravity
stopped making sense. So people looked up and saw roots instead of stars.
That's how you make change last. You don't fight the rules. You make them
irrelevant.
Aevylen was a good example.
A provincial magistrate. Lettered, lacquered, law-bound. The kind of woman
who spoke in verdicts and exhaled rules. Now she couldn't finish a sentence
without swallowing a sob. Her armor didn't fit right anymore. She twitched
like an overstrung puppet, half-spell and half-regret.
And of course, it was always Ninch. He didn't break her. That's the part that
matters. He let her break.
That's his art form. Not cracking skulls, not throwing fireballs, letting
things come apart the way they were already going to.
The Artform
Added Thu Jun 12 18:40:52 2025 at level 51:
Sometimes he gave them a little nudge. A whisper. A question."Do you ever
wonder what's under the uniform?" "Is that spell yours, or theirs?" "Why do role + you clench your jaw when no one's talking?"
Aevylen used to walk like justice had a spine and she was it. Now she sat
with her back to walls and stared at her hands like they'd started lying to
her. Ninch wasn't sorry. But he wasn't done.
See, chaos is a nice start. Fire, madness, tears, fun for a night. But Ninch
wanted legacy. The kind of rot that looks like growth if you don't stare too
long. That's where Rahsael came in.
The God of Loss didn't teach sermons. He taught erosion. He taught absence,
that echo where your name used to be. That ache in your chest when you
realize no one is coming to fix it.
And Ninch? Ninch was a student now.
He started visiting old places. Graves no one prayed at. Shrines with cracked
mirrors and dried blood on the altar. Listening for that silence Rahsael
loved so much.
He thought about his Outlanders while he did it. Thought about what he could
teach them.
Ninch wanted them sharper. Stranger. Less right and more aware.
Not fighters. Not leaders. Not good or evil. Just tilted. Just aware. The art
of unmaking without lifting a hand. And soon, they'd all learn it. One way or
another.
Aevy's Death
Added Sat Jun 21 10:51:12 2025 at level 51:
Ninch hadn't planned for it to end like that.
He told himself he just wanted to scare her off, shake her loose from that
tower, from the duty, from the lies. But when he found her with those chains
in hand, already trembling, already ready... some part of him cracked. That
soft old thing he kept locked in the basement of his skull muttered sorry.
Actually muttered it.
She said she had to. Said he had the Scales. Like that explained it.
He told her she could have left. Could have started over. Could have lived.
But deep down, he knew she wouldn't. Knew she couldn't. Knew he'd already
pushed her too far.
Still, he tried. He said he wanted to save her. Not convert her. Just take
her out of the fire. Away from the game.
And then he folded. Fell to his knees. Called himself a failure. Called her
another lost thing. Said she didn't belong in a world meant for ash.
And then she asked if she was just another project.
That's when the cold came back. That's when the smile started to curl again.
That's when ol' Ninch crawled out from the dark and dragged the broken parts
back under.
He stood up. Brushed the dust from his knees. Grinned like he always did.
Told her it was better this way. That she was the only one who saw him for
what he really was. The only one who made the mask feel thin.
She smiled. Told him he was the only one who ever saw her cry.
And Ninch secured his hold.
Because there's power in endings. In being the last voice someone hears. In
sealing a truth you chose over the one they needed.
Because now? Now no one else gets that part of him. That failure was buried
with her.
It's who he is.
PK Wins
Jun 7, 2025 |Lv 17|East Sumner's Road|Beccura vs 3: [19] Merilayk (17%, piercing venoms), [17] Pynni (65%), [17] Ninch (16%)
Jun 10, 2025|Lv 47|Ruins of Maethien|Xalaei vs 1: [47] Ninch (100%, bite)
Jun 11, 2025|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Mevnush vs 2: [51] Pionice (40%), [51] Ninch (59%, KB)
Jun 11, 2025|Lv 51|The Eastern Road|Ruumozai vs 2: [51] Ninch (100%, claw), [47] Tuergruz (0%)
Jun 11, 2025|Lv 51|The Imperial Palace|Draynil vs 2: [51] Kraittosus (60%), [51] Ninch (39%, KB)
Jun 11, 2025|Lv 51|Fortress of Light|Xalaei vs 4: [51] Kraittosus (5%), [51] Ninch (51%, claw), [51] Draynil (12%), [51] Ruumozai (31%)
Jun 11, 2025|Lv 51|Fortress of Light|Draynil vs 3: [51] Kraittosus (43%, serpent strike), [51] Ninch (53%), [49] Xalaei (3%)
Jun 11, 2025|Lv 51|The Dwarf Forest|Vexeria vs 2: [51] Ninch (51%, claw), [51] Rthar (48%)
Jun 11, 2025|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Dhurrean vs 2: [51] Czecseth (20%), [51] Ninch (79%, bite)
Jun 12, 2025|Lv 51|Ayr'Trinil, the Arial City|Rharak vs 1: [51] Ninch (100%, punch)
Jun 12, 2025|Lv 51|Galadon|Aevylen vs 3: [51] Ninch (10%), [51] Romshwar (39%, slash), [51] Kraittosus (50%)
Jun 12, 2025|Lv 51|Desert of Araile|Eladoness vs 3: [51] Ninch (13%), [51] Kraittosus (66%, pierce), [51] Romshwar (19%)
Jun 12, 2025|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Hucei vs 1: [51] Ninch (100%, claw)
Jun 13, 2025|Lv 51|Forest of Prosimy|Draynil vs 3: [49] Dondonxa (24%), [51] Ninch (34%), [51] Romshwar (40%, divine anger)
Jun 13, 2025|Lv 51|Forest of Prosimy|Draynil vs 3: [51] Ninch (35%), [51] Pionice (49%, crush), [51] Romshwar (14%)
Jun 13, 2025|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Draynil vs 3: [51] Romshwar (19%), [51] Pionice (46%, crush), [51] Ninch (33%)
Jun 13, 2025|Lv 51|Forest of Prosimy|Aevylen vs 3: [51] Romshwar (13%), [51] Pionice (40%, claw), [51] Ninch (45%)
Jun 14, 2025|Lv 51|Forest of Prosimy|Azmari vs 1: [51] Ninch (100%, bite)
Jun 14, 2025|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Dhurrean vs 1: [51] Ninch (100%, claw)
Jun 14, 2025|Lv 51|The Spire of the Blood Tribunal|Hucei vs 1: [51] Ninch (100%, punch)
Jun 16, 2025|Lv 51|Ruins of Maethien|Xalaei vs 1: [51] Ninch (100%, bite)
Jun 16, 2025|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Dhurrean vs 3: [51] Ninch (38%, slash), [51] Kraittosus (38%), [51] Romshwar (22%)
Jun 16, 2025|Lv 51|Arkham|Aevylen vs 3: [51] Kraittosus (63%, bolts of lightning), [51] Ninch (18%), [51] Romshwar (18%)
Jun 16, 2025|Lv 51|The Fields of Balator|Gebba vs 1: [51] Ninch (100%, claw)
Jun 16, 2025|Lv 51|The Imperial Palace|Felyndiira vs 1: [51] Ninch (100%, claw)
Jun 17, 2025|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Dhurrean vs 3: [45] Wolriq (17%), [51] Kraittosus (34%), [51] Ninch (47%, KB)
Jun 17, 2025|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Hildt vs 2: [51] Ninch (24%), [51] Kraittosus (75%, black light)
Jun 17, 2025|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Hildt vs 2: [51] Kraittosus (81%), [51] Ninch (18%, bite)
Jun 17, 2025|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Aevylen vs 3: [51] Czecseth (7%, claw), [51] Kraittosus (45%), [51] Ninch (46%)
Jun 18, 2025|Lv 51|Forest of Prosimy|Aevylen vs 2: [51] Ninch (50%, claw), [51] Vamnar (49%)
Jun 18, 2025|Lv 51|The Spire of the Blood Tribunal|Dhurrean vs 4: [51] Pionice (18%), [51] Kraittosus (40%), [51] Ninch (24%), [51] Romshwar (17%, divine anger)
Jun 18, 2025|Lv 51|Forest of Prosimy|Paxell vs 2: [46] Wolriq (35%), [51] Ninch (64%, bite)
Jun 20, 2025|Lv 51|The Imperial Palace|Wrinsthul vs 2: [51] Xalaei (53%), [51] Ninch (46%, bite)
Jun 21, 2025|Lv 51|The Spire of the Blood Tribunal|Larusae vs 4: [51] Czecseth (2%), [51] Kraittosus (0%), [46] Wolriq (11%), [51] Ninch (86%, KB)
Jun 21, 2025|Lv 51|Lost in the Mists|Rthar vs 3: [51] Ninch (42%), [48] Wolriq (38%, bite), [47] Ilric (19%)
Jun 21, 2025|Lv 51|Galadon|Pinnewyk vs 2: [51] Quelin (30%), [51] Ninch (69%, claw)
Jun 22, 2025|Lv 51|Mount Kiadana-Rah|Rthar vs 3: [51] Sylren (7%), [51] Ninch (92%, blast of flame), [51] Solucei (0%)
Jun 22, 2025|Lv 51|The Galadon Sewers|Spuzlo vs 2: [49] Kaydra (51%, claw), [51] Ninch (48%)
Jun 22, 2025|Lv 51|The Spire of the Blood Tribunal|Wrinsthul vs 3: [51] Romshwar (9%), [51] Ninch (84%, claw), [51] Kraittosus (5%)
Jun 23, 2025|Lv 51|Mortorn|Dondonxa vs 3: [51] Kaydra (21%), [51] Czecseth (35%), [51] Ninch (43%, KB) *Disemboweled*
Jun 23, 2025|Lv 51|The Lower Voralia's Tears|Dhurrean vs 3: [51] Czecseth (2%), [51] Romshwar (37%, divine anger), [51] Ninch (59%)
Jun 23, 2025|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|Dhurrean vs 2: [51] Ninch (55%, KB), [51] Czecseth (44%) *Disemboweled*
Jun 24, 2025|Lv 51|The Spire of the Blood Tribunal|Paxell vs 3: [51] Wolriq (17%, brilliant radiance), [51] Kraittosus (18%), [51] Ninch (64%)
Jun 25, 2025|Lv 51|Mansion of Twilight|Xalaei vs 2: [51] Romshwar (36%), [51] Ninch (63%, KB) *Disemboweled*
Jun 26, 2025|Lv 51|Galadon|Vornisca vs 2: [51] Romshwar (55%, asphyxiating cloud), [51] Ninch (44%)
PK Deaths
Jun 11, 2025|Lv 51|The Jade Mountains|Ninch committed suicide
Jun 16, 2025|Lv 51|Galadon|vs 3: [41] Xaenov (13%), [51] Aevylen (25%), [51] Hildt (60%, punch)
Jun 21, 2025|Lv 51|Ruins of Maethien|vs 1: [51] Rthar (100%, claw)
Jun 21, 2025|Lv 51|The Outlander Refuge|vs 2: [51] Dondonxa (93%, claw), [45] Zilga (6%)
Jun 23, 2025|Lv 51|Udgaardian Plains|vs 2: [45] Xaenov (51%, virulent venom), [51] Dhurrean (48%)
Jun 23, 2025|Lv 51|The Consortium|vs 1: [51] Sumae (100%, claw)