Zizzle Ziff the Poetic Peddler, Deft Dealer Extraordinaire

Role

Chapter 3

It all started with an Idea. Not a giant, over-ripe and too-sweet melon
of an Idea, but a small, wet-and-ready-to-germinate seed of an Idea.
A lovely, crunchy, delicious tidbit of an Idea. Zizz'Guron Zirifa'n,
fresh from Underdark exile, would lie to people's faces. And he
would get paid hansomely for doing it.
...
Nobody missed Zizz'Guron Zirifa'n when he died, brutally murdered
by the Idea. Equally, nobody noticed the suspiciously-similar looking
drow who took his place. What people did notice about this new drow
was that he was charming and folksy. He had attended and later taught
at a good school--what was the name of it? Ah well, it doesn't
matter, but it was a good school. But not -too- good. And the name
wasn't very memorable. In any case, everyone knew the Doctor, or
"Ole Doc Zizzle Ziff" as he preferred to be called. Well, anyone
who wasn't too close to any major civic centers at any rate (taxes and
customs agents being what and how they are). Indeed, the good Doctor
made quite a name for himself in Thera's countryside. It seemed the
good Doctor had traveled widely, to Thera's darkest regions, studying
with the wisest monks and partaking in tribal rituals with the forgotten
tribes of lost continents. Luckily, all of the Doctor's travels had
practical applications that were easy to bottle and sell at
steeply discounted prices.
...
Then, as it always does with these things, Ole Doc Zizzle hit a roadblock.
It seemed the city folk up in Hamsah had hired a Miskatonic mage to
see if a few of Ole Doc Zizzle's Olde-Tyme Miracle Creams had contained
as many miracles as advertised (10 per cannister). And equally it
appeared that the only miracle was that the cream found its principle
base in Khalid River dredgings and that more people didn't get ill. It
was time for a new line of work (at least for a while) in a new city.
...
Now, the heat has died down, and Ole Doc Zizzle has retaken the mantle
of the righteous miracle dealer (with the occasional dabbling in adventure
and anything else that had the potential to amuse and tantalize his
overactive and devious intellect). Zizzle was convinced his Idea remained
as delicious as the day it was fomented. Who knows what the future holds
in store for Old Doc Zizzle Ziff? Stay tuned, avid readers!

Role

Chapter 2

Greetings again, dear reader! It has been far too long
since I last related the fickle fable of Ole Doc Zizzle
Ziffs's intrepid Idea. You see, despite finding its
genesis in Zizzle's labyrinthine lobos, the Idea, it
doing its damndest to get our plucky palavering physician
killed!

--------------------------------------------------
Vignette: "The Sale"

"Zounds!" gasped Doctor Zizzle Ziff, intrepid adventurer
and purveyor of Thera's finest magical machinations
(although in truth, they were simply rebranded perennial
favorites taught en masse by the Transmuter's guild).
Zizzle looked down in disbelief at the five glittering
gobs of gold the Imp had given him in return for a potent
potable that clearly had been faultily fulminated.
The Doctor had realized soon after he had put pen to
scroll that the hebitudinous humans he had contracted
to manufacture his Embiggening potion had mismeasured
the recipe. And contrary to his ubiquitous advertising
the recipe. And contrary to his ubiquitous advertising
assault, Zizzle Ziff, to his chagrin, had no talent for
bottling his own Minor Miracles.

But still, he was living, and he was five gold richer,
having stuck to his instincts and yarn. The Imp had
poked and prodded, niggled and naggled, but Zizzle's
smile had never waivered, his voice remained cheery and
true, and the Imp had, apparently, been at least amused
enough to leave the major bits of important anatomy in
place. Ole Doc Zizzle Ziff had dodged one heavenly
thrown stone, it seemed. But would there be more? Would
he learn his lesson? Until next time, stay tuned, avid
reader!

Role

Chapter 1

Greetings again dear reader, and welcome!
When we last left Ole Doc Zizzle Ziff, his heart was
pounding fit to wake the dead. He had survived his
Impish interview. But had he learned his lesson?

____________________________________________________
role + Vignette: "The Curse"

"Eeeeek!" squealed Zizzle Ziff, the debonair Doctor and
Thera's most verbosely intrepid adventurer. It seemed the
Doctor, usually stoic and stalwart, had incurred a small
papercut whilst shuffling through orders for his fine
magical machinations and potent potables of all sorts!

You see friends, our irresolute if plucky protagonist
had been cursed by the Gods (or at least some sort of
semi-self-aware feline-inspired deity) for failing to
*give away* (Zizzle begins to sneeze violently at the
very thought) a rather fine ring he had pillaged from a
rather dead Isendor. Despite divine commands, the Doctor
had refused to comply without remuneration. Thus, in a
dyscrasian deluge of divine distemper at this
disobedience, Baerinika ripped away Zizzle's courage the
way Zizzle's Masticular Muscle Mascerator rips flesh
(available at quite the lowest price in the lands,
friend!).

Looking woefully at his cut and jumping at every loud
noise, the Doctor knew that Fate had frowned its fearsome
face at our hero. Will he find a cure? Will he
recover? Tune in next time, dear reader!

Title History

Immortal Comments

Immortal Comments

PK Gank-O-Meter

PK Statistics

Skill List

PK Wins

PK Wins

PK Wins

PK Wins

PK Deaths

Leveling History

Timeline

Mob Deaths

Edges