Avatar of POOHEAD189

Status

Recent Statuses

24 min ago
Current Triss > Yennefer
1 day ago
The Ant King did not understand the infinite potential of humanity's malice
5 likes
2 days ago
Pothead is the most common typo tbh
3 likes
2 days ago
That sounds amazing. Could I join you or would I count as people to deal with?
1 like
2 days ago
Yeah, I am far south enough to where its 10 degrees F but north enough to where there was no snow to keep me out of work.
1 like

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

Time to think of a character! Any CS template or are we free to make one up?


There's a 0th post CS template in the CS tab :)
Character Information


Local & Relevant Information





We don't have much room aboard, but yer money's good so we can find somewhere to pack ye. Galena's Mercy only knows why yer going down to the Cutlass Coast, anyway. What? You know the tales, it's why yer here ain't it? No use hiding it, no one that pays to board is doing it for honest reasons. Yer hoping whatever yer running from won't have the balls to come follow ye there. It's a pretty safe bet, I reckon. Only the mad or the desperate go to the that devil's land. Which one am I? Bit of both, maybe...maybe I'm the reaper of souls, myself. Ha! Don't let the grim humor get to ye. Ye'll get used to it before long. It's a two week trip to Darkwater. Just keep your eyes to yerself and yer nose out of me crew's business, and things'll run smooth as rum. Welcome aboard the Skirmisher. We'll get ye there safe n' sound.

-Captain Cole Burnside. Port Nyrothlenaen, 11 days before it all went wrong.



Welcome to the Southlands! The New World, some call it. A land of beasts and death, but rich rewards for the lucky few that live. You find yourself in the Black Delta, a peninsula much like the Congo or Pre-Colonial Florida in our world. Only in this land, dangers worthy of Conan, mysteries of Cthulu, and peoples worthy of Warhammer dwell here. It's hot, wet, but beautiful in a way. Make sure you dress appropriately.

I expect advanced level posts, pulpy characters, and a willingness to want to collaborate a grim and fun adventure together! I'm excited and so should you be.
<Snipped quote by POOHEAD189>

Of course. Part of my intention with this RP is that folks can join and leave freely, since the Caravan is always dropping people off and picking up new people. So yeah, no rush. Good luck with your recovery, my dude, you're in my prayers.


Thanks Tort! I appreciate it, my friend :D
I'm just starting a few things and I am still recovering from a surgery, but is it possible if the caravan can be joined mid-route?
Neil nabbed a length of rope from the juniper desk and used it to tie up a sackcloth to place in the loot they had gathered. He wished he could keep the chest, but they needed to hurry as is. He placed the chest down as Ibrahim grabbed the last of the horses to take, Calliope watching him like a hawk. As he placed the chest down, a small compartment in the wood creaked up from within. Neil raised an eyebrow, suspicious of a trap but too curious not to check. He grabbed a small utensil from the desk and pulled the small pocket open, and within was a small dagger with a jeweled, ivory hilt. He shrugged and took it, sliding it within the folds of the rope and heading out into the sun.

"Let's go, we need to get out of here before Hakim and the others return." Calliope said, holding the reins of the horse as if she were born to the saddle. Both he and she would need new clothes, but even her bedraggled and ruined dress from Bania still fit her well, and the furs added to the panache. Ibrahim clung to the saddle, and Neil merely hopped on and let Calliope ride them out of there. The palms threatened to scythe them as they rode, but she weaved through the trees quickly and a few ducks later, the party was out of the small patch of life amidsts the arid sands.

"Where are we going, again?" Neil asked.

"Ragbah Shahir! The greatest city in the world!" Ibrahim exclaimed, though his excitement did not seem entirely genuine when he glanced back at the isle of date palms fading away, likely wondering if he did the right thing there.






Amidst the Golden Gulf lay a city, larger than any in the world. Riches beyond measure lay within its walls and the greatest minds from across the world dwelt in its Academy of Wisdom. It is said the Djinni made the city as the center of their power on Torek, or whatever that meant. The boy talked a lot, clearly wanting to show off and impress his new 'friends.' Neil wasn't sure how much was truthful or not, and he was certain the Basilaens would have something to say about Basilos not being considered the greatest city in the world, but as long as it had good foot and a soft bed, he was happy.

It was the next day now, and the horse loped over the sand with a ginger trot. The ground had grown less soft, more sure of itself. Small tufts of grass began to appear, and soon birds were seen flocking and making great shapes in the sky. The air, though hot, grew less dry, and soon in the distance if one looked north, they would see a line of ocean that shimmered in the sun. Neil only gave it a passing glance, more impressed with the city that now loomed on the horizon. The kid had been bluffing a little, but it was still impressive.

Massive spires of white stone with golden domes towered over the landscape, and larger albeit more squat buildings of coppery color were cut open with arches the shape of broad sword points. Sandstone buildings with vengefully colorful tarps and drapes caught the eye, and every other color under the sun was displayed by flags or great works of artistry in the stone, and Neil could see all of this from the small glimpses he caught before they entered the walls. If nothing else, the city was grandiose and loud about it.

The wall was a huge structure, sunbaked but smooth as if made of marble. Grim faced men wearing lamellar armor and sporting helms with sharp spear points patrolled and guarded the three large entryways, holding large spears. The thief caught either moon-bladed axes or cruelly shaped maces at their belts. Each gate they defended was made from some different material. Bronze, Iron, and Brass if Neil had to guess, but he didn't ask. As they lazily approached, Calliope looked curious, her sharp eyes darting around, but kept herself from speaking. Ibrahim knelt behind Neil, warily looking at the men who watched them approach. Neil followed his gaze, and realized he wasn't looking at the normal men.

There were figures there, standing head and shoulders above the normal soldier. They were slightly lighter of skin, but still suntanned. They sported great beards and red eyes that glinted malevolently. Horribly, every time Neil saw one speak, he heard three voices. It must have been a trick of the crowd.

They weren't the only ones on the road, of course. Once the three of them had crested the hell, caravans and what seemed to be peasants and refugees swarmed like ants besides what one might call the 'mound' of the city. Though they were glared at, they were not stopped. Most cities in the west would have stopped them and asked to give a tax to enter, but either they had given up that practice here as a generous policy, or more likely the riches of Al’ardbahja lay elsewhere. Immediately their nostrils were assaulted with wonderful spices and perfumes, and as they continued, hookah smoke wafted from windows and opened doorways.

"Ok, now what kid?" Neil asked, and Calliope raised an eyebrow to showcase she was listening.

"We can go to the bath houses..." He said hesitantly. "You both smell."

"I want somewhere comfortable and more private." Calliope insisted.

"Good idea, we can go on our third date." Neil jested, mostly trying to be a tad silly. Though he was getting a little impatient on it. Calliope just winked at him subtly, but watched Ibrahim. The little boy nodded and nodded.

"I know just the place. It overlooks the bazaar and part of the gardens. It's called the Brass Lamp. Good bath, good food, great arak or...so I'm told." He said shyly. "Just keep to the side of the street. You never know if one of the Sultan's relatives is showing off their elephants or tigers."
Neil felt like his head was full and his body waded through molasses, just until Calliope's hands pressed against his flesh. The ground, or the horse more accurately, leaped up and Neil felt everything go from sluggish to weightless, and he flipped over. His head hit the ass of the horse and before he knew it, his body hit the creek with a splash. He sucked in some water involuntarily, and then yanking his head out, he hacked as he tried to breathe in precious air. His soul might be in the realm between life and death but his body was very warm and alive, and he wanted to keep it that way. At least until he'd die doing something fun.

"Good, you're awake." She said, crossing her arms and gazing around them.

"I agree," He deadpanned. He wasn't certain if they were going to make it, and now that they were here he was bewildered they had attempted that dreadful crossing. He got off his knees and sat down in the pool, taking handfuls of the water and drinking greedily. He was careful so as not to shove more water down the wrong pipe, but he felt parched. He hadn't thought of where they were, but he didn't really care until he felt something sharp prickling his skin below the neck.

He stopped drinking, freezing in place and slowly looking up. For a moment he thought Calliope had turned on him for some reason, but instead he saw two riders swathed in tan linen, with leathery faces and dark beards. If he had to guess, they wore chainmail under their fabrics. One held a long saber in his hand, mounted on a short pony. He glared at Neil in a very familiar way; the city watch had given him that look many times. The other man was atop a strange, humped creature with an elongated neck. A kameel? Camel? One of those, and in his hand was a wicked looking whip. He had a scimitar sheathed, but he seemed to favor the longer weapon.

"Ma hi kalimat alsir?" The one threatening Neil demanded harshly.

"No thanks, I'm on a diet."

He pulled his sword away and struck Neil hard with the pommel. Red flashed across the thief's vision and he realized now wasn't the time to be clever. He caught himself before he slapped into the water again, tougher than he looked. The thief contemptuously wiped blood off his lip, blinking away the stars.

"What is the password?" The man asked, now in the northern tongue.

"Password for...for what?" Neil inquired. Yet again a wrong answer. This time it looked like the man would strike blade first, but just as he went to cleave Neil from collarbone to chest, the saber hit something unknown. A small pocket of blackness, and through it the same saber had cut through. Only now, it had chopped into its own user's head. Neil watched dumbly as the man gasped equally as dumbly and swayed, blood now dribbling down his head. A few seconds later, he collapse into the water. Calliope looked at her nails as if she were bored with the whole affair. Neil scrambled to his feet just as the second man recovered and uncoiled his whip, and instead of going for Neil, he glared at the dark woman and snapped it at Calliope. Too quickly for the witch to do the same trick twice. Luckily, Neil was smooth on his feet as always.

"Insolent wench!" He yelled.

The whip was suddenly caught by Neil's forearm, wrapping around it like a constrictor. The raider had attacked something with some physical strength, which he likely wasn't used to. With a heave, the dark haired scoundrel yanked the man off the strange mount. It snorted and groaned oddly, but did not panic as a horse might have. As the man fell, Neil reversed his arm and punched him in the face as he fell, adding to the momentum of the hit. The desert dweller lay moaning in the pool.

"Thanks," She said and laid a hand on his shoulder. Neil found it was coming easier to her, at least. He gave her a wink, and with the gusto of a man who made things up as he went along for most of his life, he did not mount the pony or the horse, but deftly climbed atop the Camel. The beast complained but didn't bolt, and Neil offered a hand to Calliope. When she took it, he grinned. "You'll be happy to know I have a plan."

"It's what I pay you for..." She said, and then paused. "When we get paid, that is."

The next ten minutes was a flurry of activity in what Neil and Calliope discovered was an oasis. The Camel and the two intruders had trotted off, and a wailing, undulating cry in the native's tongue blew into the wind. The Camel they had procured burst out of the undergrowth of hard ferns and tropical trees and galloped into a sea of endless sand and dunes, the sun looming over the land like an ancient god. Soon, men on camels and stout ponies whooped and chased the camel in pursuit, scimitars and other blades flashing as the sand kicked up. They would overtake the beast in less than an hour at this pace, if Neil had to guess.

Luckily, Neil and Calliope watched with interest from the safety of the bushes. At Neil's insistence, they had dismounted the Camel at the edge of the oasis and he had slapped its ass so it would make headway into the desert, kicking up sand and making it seem as if the two had made for the wastes in a mad dash. Now they watched as seven mounted men had trailed the camel, and all 8 figures had disappeared over the nearest hills of dry nothingness.

"Now let's go see what exactly they're guarding here," Neil said with a playful nudge of his shoulder to the woman, the two kneeling under the ferns conspiratorially.
Over the weekend, I'll set up the OOC. Thanks for the interest! 6 is the perfect number of people, though I might need to make it smaller. We'll see with the characters!
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