Last Name: She does not remember
Size: 6 ft 11
Skin: Radiant White
Hair: White (Dyed Black)
Eyes: Fiery Gold
Bust: Proportionately busty
Figure: Intimidatingly muscular.
Teeth: Like a goat.
Scent: Bathwater and deodorant. Occasionally blood and death. Leather. Metal.
Role: Top-happy and randy goat
Detect Alignment: Currently NE
Legend Lore: Lots of stuff about Arthas you likely never wanted to know.
Scrying: Rudimentary scrying detection. Expect her to peek back. And maybe send something nasty.
At first glance, Karaatu is but tall, imposing figure in carefully refurbished armour baring the old, jagged sigil of the Lich King upon its chestplate, with the rust red mark of the Horde painted crudely over it. With powerful, digitigrade legs, cloven hooves and a long, whiplike tail adorned with metal spikes at the end, the towering, horned space goat may well even appear positively fiendish. The luminescent, golden glow of her eyes however is almost reminiscent of a celestial, though, a keen eye may note a tendency towards fiery flickers and the odd spark of other colours fresh from the rainbow, as if the light emanating from her eyes had a somewhat puckish nature or was fickle in just what colours it may well want to display.
For the most part, the Eredar is a comfortable room temperature, especially when idle. During heightened activity, she can heat up considerably, as if there were a furnace burning under her skin. When exerting herself, she is also prone to glowing like a proverbial lightbulb, especially when casting willy nilly.
About her well-sculpted, muscular flame, she sports a bounty of tattoos, in varied colouration from gold over orange to red. They seem to move under her skin, flickering like literal fire, as if she were burning on the inside. Her veins and arteries are, by and large, a distinct golden colour, though that hue may fade into white at the fringes, or, when engaged in something strenuous, provide for most of the glow described above.
One might wonder what the massive bulge in her crotch would do, then. What horrors could someone impaled upon her freshly revived pillar of lightforged fuckflesh birth from their womb? The only way to find out would be to have a heart and indulge the flared monster of a cock. The equine organ, while usually sheathed, drips with the essence of the raw virility. Her hyper-virile, mind-numbingly masculine seed is a luminescent white and prone to dribble from a set of coconut-sized cumtanks in her crotch that clearly don't see half as much action as they should. Ever. Even if she'd had nonstop sex for three days straight.
Whites: Bimbos, Faggots, Depth.
Greens: Ramming her massive fuckspire into something warm. Magic (that involves some form of source material), Corruption, Mad Science (that can be logically followed...), Tasteful Horror, Brute Force, Pet Play, Cock Cultists, Lots of jizz on and in you. Bestiality (usually involving wildshapes/animal companion on the partner). Watersports.
Yellows: Vanilla erp, vanilla heads on your character. They will be bagged.
Reds: If you don't have lights, I'm highly unlikely to engage. Please at least list reds. If you approach me with no lights, I will assume you do not have any.
Faploggers. "I'm bored".
If you are involved with Saban, I won't erp you, period. I'd prefer not to RP with you either. God- and metagaming are turn-offs.