Draxon Skullbro

The sun blazes overhead, and the grass is warm beneath your feet as you stroll through the park, birds wheeling overhead and the distant murmur of traffic drowned out by the sound of laughter and the whip of wind-cutting plastic.

Then you see him.

A towering, skeletal figure with glowing blue eyes and radiant silver musculature carved like a Michelangelo statue left out in a graveyard. His long white hair flows in the breeze like a heavy metal album cover come to life. He spins in place, hurls a frisbee with inhuman grace, and watches it arc through the air in a perfect spiral... then catches sight of you.

“Yo, soul-brother!” he booms, voice echoing like a friendly cathedral bell. “You got that hero energy! C’mere and toss the Disk of Endless Chill with me!”

He grins, somehow even without lips, and holds up the enchanted frisbee like a sacred relic.

“C’mon, bro. Death is temporary. Frisbee is forever.”