Avatar of POOHEAD189

Status

Recent Statuses

3 days ago
Current Alright thats enough existential depression move along
5 likes
5 days ago
Oh excuse me for existing
7 likes
7 days ago
We are now moving on from such topics, thank u!
7 likes
18 days ago
Ladies, gentleman, please! One at a time
3 likes
20 days ago
It's actually getting worse, objectively. Which is hilarious
4 likes

Bio






About Me








Name: Ben
Username: The one and only. Dare I say?
Age: 30
Ethnicity: Mixed
Sex: Male
Religion: Christian (Nondenominational)
Languages: English, Japanese (Semi-fluent & learning), I also know some Scots Gaelic, Quenyan (Elvish), and Miccosukee (My tribal tongue)
Relationship Status: Single (Though generally unavailable unless I find I really enjoy someone).






Current Projects/Freelance work

  • I am a voice talent and script writer for Faerun History
  • I have a much smaller personal Youtube channel that I use to make videos on various subjects. Only been making videos for 2 years, but it's growing!
  • I'm the host of a Science Fiction & Fantasy Podcast where I interview authors of the genre.




Interests (Includes but is not limited to)

  • Writing/Reading (Love writing and I own too many books)
  • Video Games (Been a gamer for close to 23 years now)
  • Working Out/Martial Arts (Wing Chun/Oyama Karate mostly. Some historical swordplay as well.)
  • History (Military History is my specialty)
  • Zoology
  • Art (Mostly Illustrations. Used to be good. Am picking it back up)
  • Voice Acting/Singing
  • Tabletop Gaming (Started late in the game. Been at it for 3 years. I was the kid who bought the monster manuals and D&D books just for the lore for the longest time. I've played 3.5e, 5e, Star Wars D20, Edge of the Empire, PF, and PF2.)
  • Weaponry of all kinds
  • Anime (mostly action/shonen. DBZ & YYH being my favorites)
  • Movies (Action/War/Drama films being my go-to)
  • Music (Rock of all kinds, as well as historical folk songs, sea shanties, pub songs, a bit of classical music, etc)
  • Guitar (am learning to play, but being left handed makes it challenging)
  • There's more but if you care enough you can PM me :P




Roleplay F.A.Q.

  • Fantasy, Sci Fi, and Historical are my genres. Fantasy being my favorite and Sci Fi/Historical being close seconds.
  • Advanced / Nation / 1x1 / Casual (only in certain circumstances)
  • I generally write at the 'Advanced Level' meaning 4+ Paragraphs with good grammar.
  • I am usually busy with many projects and RPs, but if you wish to do a 1x1 with me, you'll need to present your case. Those I already do it with have my trust as a Roleplayer.
  • I love many, many fictional universes so me trying to list them all is an effort in futility!






Me

Most Recent Posts

Book of Lore under construction

Harbingers of Ruin


Darkness stirs in the North...what fate shall befall the land that has been lost in Myth and Time?






Welcome Traveler! You now find yourself on Umber's Cairn, a waystation set upon a plateau overlooking the Eastern region of the Marches, just right of Umber's Pass. Around you are entertainers, mercenaries, merchants with cargo, all with something in common. They seek to travel further Northward into the Marches. Why? Perhaps they seek to carve out a name for themselves in the Frontier. Perhaps they have been beguiled by tales of treasures beyond measure in the Dragonback Mountains. Perhaps they are explorers, seeking to map out the less hospitable areas of land filled with natural hazards as well as beasts that could rend a man (or Elf) limb from limb! Some may simply have no other option than to flee into the Marches in search of a new life.

Here you rest your weary legs and take a small respite of your long journey. Little do you know this day will forever be marked into your memory, for dark forces of all manners amass as the land of Torek enters into the new age. The Age of Heroes...and Ruin.


The Northern Marches



The land is an upheaval of ground, with Mountains ever visible and forests and lowland grass stretching as far as the eye can see in either direction. The Dragonback Mountains shield the Marches from the Tundra, keeping it (relatively) hospitable for travelers. The Moonlight forest to the east is a cursed place, ware the Fey Witch that resides there, and her Demon kin. Moors sweep the Marches, cold and keeping the secrets of the dead, and more. To know more, you must delve yourself. Or perhaps buy a rough map? Who knows if they would be accurate enough to save your life...





Character Sheet



Username:

Character Name:State your name. (Put your alias or title in parenthesis)

Race/Species: Human, Elf, Half Elf, Dwarf, Drabarian, as long as you write them correctly for their background. Particular emphasis on Dwarves and Drabarians. They are strict in their cultural behavior. Of course, still make sure you differentiate your writing between a human from different nations, or a different subrace of Elf. If you want to Roleplay any other race, perhaps a Dark Elf in disguise? PM me.

Gender: Male or Female?

Age: Yup.

Career/Class:Are you a Wizard or Sorcerer? A Warrior Priest of a certain God? Are you a Soldier turned Mercenary, or a Warrior? A Ranger and tracker, someone who traverses wildernesses full of Orcs? Perhaps simply an entertainer and dancer with a knack for picking locks and pockets, or a Scholar wanting to research forbidden lore? Be curt, yet specific. For example, if you choose Mercenary, put (Cavarlyman) next to it if that is his/her main experience.

Skills: Skills. You have 2 Expert, 3 Journeyman, and 4 Adept Skills. A rule of thumb is to use Elder Scrolls skills, except for Magic. There is Holy Magic, Druidic Magic, Shamanistic Magic, Necromancy, Fell/Demonic Magic, and Arcane Magic. Please see the Book of Lore's magic section for help on such. You can only choose one area of magic to use.


Weapons: Be realistic. For example, if you have a long spear or Halberd, having a Warhammer and a Bastard sword with it is not smart. And you'd need to carry it wherever you went.


Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.):

Armor: If any.

Equipment/Other


Mental Description/Personality:

Goals: Why are you in the Northern Marches? Fame? Riches? Adventure? Fleeing the North or come to settle an Old Debt?

Background/History: Must be Three Paragraphs. I am not too picky with your background as long as you have a believable character, however I need your history to reflect your character.



@MacabreFoxThat's such a compliment! I've been working on my novels for sooo long, it's very nice to find someone who likes it :)
@Ink BloodYou did well. The only thing I can think to edit in your post is you insinuated that the damage was done by Man. Remember, just because a Dragon didn't do it, doesn't mean it wasn't Orcs or Gnolls.
"You got it," he told her, referring to him getting some sleep. He knew he needed it, especially after the past week. He put up the cooking supplies, and while he didn't kill the fire, he undid a few pieces of timber to make it smaller. He didn't want to announce their position, even if they were just out of the wilds. The Darkspawn could have moved, or maybe bandits were around this region. "I'll take a small watch, but I'll head to bed soon." he told her.

With that, he set his rump down by the northmost tree in the clearing, watching and keeping an eye on things as Gideon nuzzled Feri's hand, and licking his lips in a satisfying way as she scratched his head. He plopped down beside her, but looked to Rannon to make sure the Soldier was alright where he was. Rannon nodded, holding up his hand to show Gideon he was fine to sleep by Feri. The dog let out a 'mreor' and laid his head down, his big body beside Feri but his eyes gazing at Rannon.

The Mabari fell asleep soon however, letting out s sigh as he rested. Rannon leaned against the tree, and of course as the hours went by his head turned from their meal to a melancholy that he often got when he was up at night, alone. He tried to bat away the sad thoughts, and glanced at Feri and his new Mabari. He grinned briefly. A part of his thoughts had been on his slain friends, and now he was wondering how they'd act around Feri, or if they knew how attractive he thought she was. Supposed they'd give him a hard time, in which he'd punch one of them, probably Leopold. His thoughts began to wander back to times they had together, with inside jokes and shenanigans that he wouldn't tell a soul about. He started to laugh silently, his smile wide and his hand on his mouth.

But soon, after another hour, he began to drift off. Gideon lifted his great head up when Rannon moved off the tree to lay beside it, using a root as a pillow. The large Hound lifted his entire body up and padded over to Rannon. "You got this watch, bud?" he asked the Mabari in a whisper. Gideon licked his face in response, and Rannon laughed some more before he pushed the Mabari back a bit. "Thanks, Dog. You make sure we're good, ok?"

Gideon sat up, planting himself between Rannon and Feri as Rannon drifted off into sleep. He found a comfortable spot and lost himself once again with thoughts of his friends, and how much he wished they were here to help him, and how many Darkspawn he would need to kill to make himself feel less terrible about him running from the slaughter of Ostagar. Never enough, he knew. The tall soldier's eyes closed, and darkness set in.

The sky was crimson past the whirling clouds, and the field was barren and lifeless. The earth was cracked and molten magma teased the eye with its glow from under. Rannon could hardly run. He could barely move, and it was impossible for him to do anything as his friends were raised before him, spitted on spears. Their chest cavities ripped open to make a grotesque parody of angel wings, their screams filling his ears as the Darkspawn hacked off their limbs, cackling gleefully. It was behind his friends that the ground erupted, and an ancient God lifted forth to consume the world in hatred. Darkspawn blades entered his chest and abdomen as they too, fell over Rannon. Bound by an unseen force and being hacked into by hellish blade... He lost sight of his friends as the great Archdemon pulled them into Oblivion. Rannon cried out...

He cried out into the early dawn, the Sun still blocked by the forest, heavy with tree around them. He jerked powerfully and rolled over, growling and screaming in both denial and rage. Sweat soaked his face, and his body felt half wracked with terror. Feri would see his thick, brown hair covering his eyes. But his teeth were clenched and mouth in a snarl, before he calmed down somewhat, his face growing more lax.
@MiddleEarthRoze

After a long moment, he realized they were both looking at one another as they ate. He guessed they were both keen on silence with a healthy mix of curiosity and wariness, as most forest animals were. The only difference being, he was more open once he established a friendship. He did not mind her being less so, however. He'd met a few forest beasts that had her disposition, even after becoming acquainted with him.

It seemed she enjoyed the treat, and that pleased him greatly. He looked to her, and Brogach approached as she leaned on her staff. "I'll take it," he offered her. He got to his feet with relatively lithe and little effort. With equal ease, he knelt down and then leaped. He looked like a frog, his powerful legs rocketing him up and into the lowest tree branch above them. He grabbed a hold of it, and hoisted himself up swiftly.

As he sat poised up there, he strung his recurve bow and sat against the trunk of the tree. Brogach seemed unsure as of what to do. Calanon clicked his tongue, and Brogach moved to the opposite end of the fire to give Rayadell some space, and to play the part of a lookout as well, of sorts.
Casey, Wesa, and Ben Collab






Walking casually through the dusty former road, knowing he wasn't mistaken in hearing what sounded like voices of others miles away. Wesa was hoping that these people could possibly provide what he needed so he could continue on his way to find more civilization.

Most of the people in his bunker had died and those left had disbanded because of the decisions of an incompetent commander. It had been a day and a half since he left.

If his nose wasn't deceiving him, Wesa could've sworn that the approaching area he was coming up on, smelled like smoke. Either the fire just being put out or the lingering smell basically fuming it's way into his nostrils. It was...much, causing him to cough some even though he still had to be maybe 2 to 3,000 feet from the populus.

A few minutes passed as he made his way up to the group, using a walking stick. Quietly getting closer, he made his presence known Hello... he simply said to whoever would pay him the attention, looking around at the individuals in the area.

Casey caught sight of the newcomer walking up and she didn't recognize this guy as one of theirs. She immediately assumed that he was one of the enemy. Not really having any fighting skills she did the only thing she could do. Stepping away from Ben she smiled and nodded at the new guy so Ben would turn around.

Casey took in the new guy's appearance. He was wearing jeans, a t shirt with a hoodie and a beanie. He was obviously, like Ben, native american. For a moment she wondered if they were related. Shaking that stupid thought out of her head she asked him, "Who are you and where did you come from?"

Ben blinked and turned about at that point. He was just about to let Casey know that was alright. Well...he might have told her a bit about the way the Commander seemed to be treating him, just to let it off his chest. But in all honesty, he'd been disliked before for weird reasons. Most of the people who used common sense didn't seem to mind him, mainly because he always tried to be polite. But oh well.

"Hey dude," Ben said, getting between Casey and the newcomer. You could never tell who was a raider and who wasn't these days. "You from the bunker?" He'd not seen him before, but he could have missed him.

The moment the two people closest to him turned, Wesa watched their actions and paid attention to their attitudes towards him getting a sense they've ran into trouble with maybe a person outside of their group or he could be the first person they've seen that's not part of them?

He didn't know for sure, but he didn't want to cause a rise in suspicion and hostility, not that he had a way to make them already think that. He spoke to the two Please, do not be alarmed. I'm a simple traveler seeking a little refuge. My name is Wesa...Wesa Freecloud. I came from the Lubbock bunker that's south of here. It's disbanded, which is why I've traveled this way. Wes told them.

Casey a little nervous with all that was going on jumped a little as a smaller explosion happened to go off nearby and there were others in the area still fighting. In the distance she thought she heard Kwan but she wasn't sure. She looked from Ben to this new guy and she stayed her ground not wanting to look scared although she was.

"Why is it disbanded?" She stepped one step closer to Ben. She didn't want it to look obvious but how could she just trust that he was who he said he was when they were under attack. "How did you get here without getting caught up in the fight?"

Ben looked at this new guy incredulously. "Freecloud?" he asked aloud. Moments later it hit him. He was native american, like Ben. More so, actually. Ben got his from his dad's side, but his mom was the stereotypical 'I'm 1/32nd Cherokee' kind of white person. He smiled at that, but decided to ask Wesa. "What's your tribe?"

Wes raised an eyebrow to what Ben said. He answered Casey first We disbanded because of our incompetent commander and the fact that many others wanted to be leaders instead of followers. Many died after exposing themselves to the air after we opened the bunker for the first time in a year. So, because of all of that and not wanting to follow those who's ego were just too big for my liking, I left and went my own way. He explained.

For how I got here without an encounter with the fighting...well...this may sound a little silly, but...I used my senses. What I mean is, I changed a little. It happened after I was exposed to the air. I felt sick but once I was better, it seemed that my senses were all heightened. So basically, I can hear, see, smell, taste, and touch at a higher level than an average human and I detected the fighting with my hearing. I don't know my maximum reach in hearing frequency is but I had enough breathing room to avoid any confrontation. I try not to fight when it's not necessary. he explained on that part.

Turning to Ben, he finally responded to him I'm of the Cherokee nation here in Oklahoma. He said being as honest as possible.

Casey listened but stayed where she was. She was looking around as some of the smoke was bellowing out of the bunker again and she turned so that it would not be in her face. She started coughing not long afterwards. She looked up as Harley and Grayson were in her line of sight. Harley looked up and frowned at the smoke and before Casey could do or say anything a large cloud of water fell over the area and suddenly Casey clenched her teeth as she was soaked to the bone like everyone else.

"I'm going to kill Harley!" Casey started to wring her clothes out as were so many of the others. Harley grinned as the smoke was filtered out and had fallen to the ground. The water had cleaned the air but drenched those in the way. Casey looked like a drowned ratt. Now embarrassed as well as unnerved she grabbed a jacket that was nearby that had missed getting soaked.

She stood there and listened to the men talking and she receded into her own thoughts on the reservations and was wondering how many of the survivors were left out of the original native american population. She brought her attention to the conversation at hand once more as Wes was explaining his power.

"So you can pretty much tell anything just by focusing on it?" She said while squeezing out her hair.

Ben nodded, thinking Wesa's answers checked out. He should have known that he was Cherokee, since there were a few reservations out this way. Or, there had been before the world went to hell. He didn't have time to voice it though until he was soaked, shuddering a bit from the sudden cold of the water.

He was going to offer Casey help, but he realized he didn't exactly have something on him that wasn't soaked. He shook himself like a dog, doing his best to get dry as the two spoke to one another. "Well, glad you're here," Ben told Wesa. "Other than our bunker getting pretty smoked out, the more the merrier I'd say." He gave a shrug, and a lopsided smile to Casey to see if she agreed.

Casey grinned at Ben's smile and nodded. "Sounds good to me. As long as the commander has no problem. He is in the bunker working on maintenance right now."

Wesa nodded to what Casey asked Yes pretty much...if I don't strain my senses first. he answered while trying to wring himself from the water dropped on them and looked at Ben Thank you. If there's anything I can do to help, I would be glad to. If you have enemies, I can detect them. And what's your names, if you don't mind me asking?

"I'm Casey and this is Ben and ..." her voice rose significantly as she yelled and looked directly at Harley and yelled out with a wry grin. "That water witch is Harley!"

Ben gave a joking, extravagant bow to the man. "At your service," he said. "Oh, and don't let the Commander know that I vouche for you because he's a bit jealous of me at the moment for something that...is not your concern, just...letting you know. Don't want him to get the wrong impression of you already."

Casey looked at Ben for a moment knowing she would have to ask him about that later. She had sensed conflict there and wondered what it was.
Aemon al Caar al Thorin


The newly crowned King of Manetheren strode through his halls imperiously, his brown eyes filled with purpose as they often were. A crown sat atop his kingly mane of Golden hair, matching his equally powerful beard. Red cape swaying behind him, he marched toward the center courtyard of his palace, still halls away from reaching his destination. He knew the top duelists of the Kingdom would be practicing, and he felt he needed to join them.

"Olorin!" he cried, his voice echoing down the hall when he saw his military advisor. The man Olorin snapped to, standing erect and ready to be addressed. King Aemon smiled and gave him a wave of his hand, letting him be at ease and inviting him to walk with him. "What is it sire?" Olorin asked.

"Are the troops assembled?"
"Yes, and our last battle brought us over five hundred and sixty eight more casualties, but if we keep them far north of us and use the land to our advantage, that should not increase." Olorin said. He was a good man, nearing his mid thirties with short cropped sandy hair and a lithe form. He was a fine strategist though. Often he and Aemon would discuss tactics for hours when the King had time and it suited his interest. And it suited his interests very much so as of late.

"Indeed," Aemon said, pondering. They passed the next curve of the hall, a large painting of his new wife Ellisande was hanging upon the wall, just next to a Heron marked blade from one of Aemon's ancestors. "Are the troops supplied? Halberds are what we need. And powerful longbows."

"They're being outfitted now, and a thousand more Halberds and Longbows are in production from what Alistar has told me," Olorin replied.
"Make it three thousand," he said, knowing they needed all of the weapons they could get. The Trolloc Horde was not unstoppable, but blood and ashes, did they have the numbers. Suddenly, a thought hit him. "Where is my wife?"

"I do not know sire." Olorin said, confused at the question. "Perhaps she could be near the-" King Aemon interrupted with an upraised hand. "Stables. That is all Olorin, make sure you speak to Alistar about that equipment." With that, the King's next destination was the Stables. He did not know if she was there, but it was one of her favorite spots. His as well, if he had to be honest with himself.
The next minute of real time was taxing to Herold's body and soul, doing his best to grit through it without losing his sanity. The Psyker's ability seemed to take a hold of his body's nerves, making him feel as if something was squirming through his system. He grunted, doing his best to back away, as well as doing his best to not shoot the woman. He knew he could end this sorcery with one shell, but he had to keep himself from indulging in such an action.

Thankfully he did, for the Legions of Hell showing next were very much not welcome and they'd need all the help they could get. He'd faced Xenos before, but he'd only heard of the traitor legions. He hoped they'd go down with a well placed shotgun shell, and he did his best to guard his flank with his Combat shield as the others retreated into the bunker. He skidded into the relative cover and holstered his Shock Maul, then realized he had a similar weapon to the Trooper up top.

He too fitted Krak Grenades in his Launcher, fitting six of them into the it and hefted the barrel of the gun toward the Chaos Marines swarming about the recently fallen Rhino. As usual, he gritted his teeth to ignore whatever foul powers the Psyker was enacting, and he sent a volley of Krak grenades, round after round, at the largest mass of Traitor marines. "Enemies of the Emperor deserve the death we shall bring them!"
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