<div class="floatright"><div align="center"><strong>Methu the Imbiber</strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=283007.msg13921897#msg13921897)</div>(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/4/4d/Methu_01.jpg/404px-Methu_01.jpg)<br/><div align="center"><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Quick stats</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>HP:</strong> 366/366 (+30 THP) <br/><strong>AC:</strong>47 <strong>Ini:</strong>+33<br/><strong>Spot</strong>+59, <strong>Listen</strong>+57<br/>Daily Buffs<br/>Darkvision, True Seeing, Mind Blank</div></div></div></div>Vholdran's answer wasn't very satisfying, but ultimately, it wasn't of importance. The ogre was correct that the chair was what had been luring him to this place; the fact that he had an audience, or that Vholdran had some advance knowledge of it didn't dissuade Methu. It was clear the chair was his, and the overwhelming confidence that it was safe and genuine was enough to sate even the paranoia that should have come from being so confident to begin with. The reactions of those who did take their seats should have been one of caution; provoking at least more investigation if not outright flight. It all seemed correct though, like an angle shifting to suddenly have vision through the trees.<br/><br/>He drifted up and over the table towards the seat that was undeniably his, regardless of the ascetic. Barnabas' chair was decadent in all the wrong ways. It was made of thick pieces of adamantine, the back standing tall to form wicked spires above even Methu's tall height; almost like a jagged crown in the background behind him. It had no padding or silks, no color or embellishments, which made the fact that it was made out of precious metal seem all the more like a waste. Barnabas had always been in armor, a pillowed base would have done nothing. Methu settled down into the seat, adjusting to try to find comfort, until he paused and the memories rushed in.<br/><br/>He could feel slick warmth all around him, and immediately he recognized the scent and feeling of being drenched in blood. While it had been something Methu had engaged in before, Barnabas' experience was different. Methu's experience was fully intentional, and while Barnabas' experience was hardly accidental, it was a symptom more than anything. Where Methu's bathing in blood was one of many indulgences, for Barnabas, this was his peak, his only vice. Memories rushed into his head through the cloying blood he could feel on his skin, his back straightening, head tilting up, and lips pursed in thought as he took it all in.<br/><br/>He spoke a moment later, "Well. Certainly interesting to see what sort of... potential we all have." Barnabas was powerful and great, but he was flawed and ultimately -- only human. Methu was more. If Barnabas was the pick of the litter, Methu was the pick of his litter; the second generation of refined potential and strength. He still had growing to do, but it was easy to envision surpassing his past deeds -- and for the others to do the same.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Soul Casket Powers/Choices</div><div class="spoiler_body">Castle Ability: Methu (or any other Archfiend in his absence) can control the environment around the castle as per a Control Weather spell, with no limitations based on Season. Archfiends and the Castle itself are immune to any negative effects or damage that might come from weather generated. <br/>Selected Ability: Methu will take 'Project Image.' <br/>Personal Area: TBD (mostly baths/comfort though)</div></div>