Recent Statuses

15 days ago
Current Fried of mine, commenting on November: "...very high depression risk!" Me thinks: Nah, not me again! Me, two days later: Okay it got me.
1 mo ago
Screw the Ocampa, I wanna go home!
2 mos ago
"In case of a fire the smoking ban is lifted!"
3 mos ago
Can anyone give me the precise suicide burn time for a KSP2 landing ? I need to save fuel for this!
4 mos ago
I'll try to get pending replies out tomorrow.
1 like


Welcome to my profile page!

Who the hell is this person behind those many miles of fiber optics and copper cable ?

  • I'm a 30 year old guy.
  • ... who's working as an embedded system's engineer.

And into which hell will I descend with you participating in one of my roleplays?

  • I'm a fantasy addict: medieval high and low!
  • I'd consider myself to be a low casual roleplayer, 3 paragraphs per post on average.
  • My schedule varies. It might happen that I won't be able to post at all for a week, but then again it might happen that I'll reach a sweet spot inside which I can go on a posting rampage. I'd say one can expect 1-2 posts a week from me, depending on the lengths involved.
  • English is not my native language, but so far I've not encountered anyone who had had trouble with me over that :)

Want to RP with me ? Shoot me a PM, but don't shoot me!

Thanks for visiting!

Most Recent Posts

Setariél had still busied himself for a while, but ultimately had decided that panicking now would not help in any way. Paying attention to detail and with his ultimate goal continuously lingering in the back of his mind, the man from Linmark had continued to enjoy the festivities. That was only until the ceremony had started, of course.

And how it could go wrong in probably one of the worst and most unexpected ways imaginable...

At first Setariél had just stared at the scenery, trying to figure out which part of it was actually still part of the ceremony and which part was clearly evil and worth fighting against. The question was answered immediately when the demonic creatures appeared. They were threatening everyone around them, trying to kill the most important people around here and then, afterwards, probably all the rest ? And then there was this other man... It dawned upon Setariél that he might be the person mentioned in the visions. Who else could it be ?

The decision to engage was made. Somewhat rudely to the outside onlooker the big man freed himself from the crowd, evening going as far as pushing people aside violently in order to speed up his approach. He couldn't draw his long sword and start fighting in the midst of people, but he also had to hurry. Needless to mention there was a stream away from the scenery that made things more difficult. Finally, having freed himself of the last people blocking his way, Setariél picked the very first demonic looking being he could find and pulled his weapon out of its sheath.

"C'mon you beast! Pay attention to me!" He didn't even know if this creature could understand his language, let alone his accent... But anyway, it was worth a try!
My reply's gonna come up tomorrow. Just didn't have the time so far :/

edit 4 days later: Apologies for the delay. I encountered some problems over the weekend.



To say that things were not exactly going well for Týfurkh maybe was a little bit of an understatement, given that he was stuck at the bottom of a tower that had just collapsed internally with most, if not all of its uninvited guests surviving. Why couldn't the bell have just crushed a few of those ? That would have greatly reduced the problem of getting out here alive and with no piece lost...

Týfurkh's bleeding had stopped, allowed him to see clearly again. So far he had not dared to move anywhere, but had merely listened in on the conversation in an attempt to figure out the individual positions and the best route to go. Things had seemed as if his appearance had not been noticed, so he held some hopes of the crowd just dissolving at some point and thus potentially making things much easier for him. Also the dialogue going on between Tayla and the other person -- whom he could not identify -- was quite interesting, if not even amusing. So the same Tayla that had made such a proud standing at the top of the tower now was being ranted at ? If this just could go on forever!

Of course it didn't... and by the time Týfurkh had decided to set up one if his acoustic traps in front of and close to the exit door before making a run for it the unidentified voice mentioned 'having a guest'... He could not hear the wicked magic of elongated fingers approaching him, so they came in as a surprise that immediately triggered the urge to just run. Týfurkh tried to make an evasive maneuver, not knowing if it would actually succeed and hoping that, if it wouldn't, his huge momentum still would pull him free of any insufficient grasp. He knew where the trap was set, but the owner of the unidentified voice hopefully did not. If just he could make it out of the building he would have a lot more places to hide and run away from.

If you have any questions or so feel free to hit me up :)
Make that 72 hours but at least I've done it :)
Linmark was a cold place, a very cold place. Those people born there were accustomed to snow falling winter and summer, to the sun never reaching as high above the horizon as it did in other regions and to the ubiquity of ice. Setariél, despite his other self that was as undesired as it was rather new, was no exception to this. He had felt quite comfortable beneath a thick layer of cloth and fur as long as there had been chill winds and dark nights, but the further he had traveled towards Khrousahvell the more rare these conditions had become. His body just wasn't equipped for this kind of warm environment, so despite not having to walk himself but sitting on a horse-drawn cart Setariél had started sweating. By the time the man had reached what was bound to be the epicentre of the festival he had actually disposed of as many clothes as one reasonably could without breaking common societal rules.

Not hindered by any kind of sleeves, sunlight continuously pounded the skin around his tremendous bi- and triceps and did the same to the major part of his legs. He'd probably regret this within hours, but not exposing his pale skin to too much sunlight meant that he'd have to expose his body to too much heat and he held silent hopes for the former problem fixing itself much faster by adaptation. On the plus side of things it didn't seem like many people were paying much attention to his appearance. Apparently they had too much else to do or they thought of this actually being some kind of costume based on a lot of mere paint Setariél imagined.

Setariél had mixed himself into the very heterogenous and no less large crowd of people who were paying attention to the plethora of attractions, businesses and other things the festival had to offer. The slow current of people was pushing him into more or less chaotic directions, but at least he was able to see over the other people's heads and keep track of where things were going. How many mead drinking contests had he already passed while struggling with the temptation to try and beat them ? If it had not been for the awesome artistic performance of some of his countrymen and -women distracting him he would certainly have given in to the last one. Anyway... a large bag of sweets had already found its way onto his elbow and greedy consumption had set in. He'd probably come out of this festival a little bigger than he had come in, but still this was much preferable to ending up totally drunk.

After all, Setariél tried to remind himself, he had serious business to do. He was not here for indulging himself, but rather because of investigation that required a clear mind. Those visions were discomforting, he didn't want to have those unasked interruptions! Still Linmark had no lack of people taking magic and supernatural stuff serious and he himself had no intent to just ignore the message they delivered. Well... at least they delivered one and weren't just random nonsense. And then, just as the giant male was about to toss another piece of candy into his gaping mouth, it hit him:

“… You… You are here! A… Oh how wonderful! Please… Please find my child…! Aaaalll… All will be made, clear… you must trust me.”

Setariél started coughing the hell out of himself -- candy was no good it one's respiratory system. By bowing forwards and clapping onto his back with his own hands as hard as he could, he pushed aside the crowd around him vigorously. Those... damn... visions! The nicely colored piece of sugar finally came out flying and Setariél sat down on the ground in order to calm himself. Now what to do... What kind of child had this voice been talking about ? Finding any kind of person during this festival felt like a challenge being next to impossible.
Othen noticed that she was struggling with actually shaking his hand, so he silently decided not to prolong this any further then absolutely necessary in order for things not becoming awkward. Having retracted his arm, he patiently waited for her meal to be served and for her to dig into the first bits of it.

"What brings me here ?" he repeated, buying himself one more moment of thinking before actually providing an answer. "Maybe you have already considered it, but I am a blacksmith from a small village close to the border. Normally I have a lot of very ordinary business to do: Horseshoes, nails, prongs and a great variety of farming tools. Sometimes however I receive more special requests since it seems I'm the only talented blacksmith in the neighbourhood and then I have to get some higher quality ingots or even different metals then steel in the first place. Eversong, despite the long travel, still is the best place to get this. There are vendors in other towns that are much closer, but sometimes they are sold out and I'm under time pressure."

Othen was both confident and satisfied with himself. That cover story was good -- and not that overused yet. Part of him hoped that Branna wasn't the kind of person who'd not stop drilling until having asked every imaginable question, but another part hoped for a nice conversation and actually felt regret for so blatantly lying at her.

"I think that explains why almost nobody has seen me here before. I just don't live here usually. Do you ?"
"What I say ? Well... I'd say that I'm not worried about traveling, but more about the lich. Have you even a glimpse of an idea about how difficult it can be to take down a lich ? I'd say that four people are the absolutely and bare minimum we'll require and that is only if all of those four are very talented to say the least. In some way or the other at least..."

Vadym could only wonder why not more ressources were to be allocated to that task. Had the administration really become so rotten in these lands that nobody but some small private trader cared about this ?

"No, you're tiny!" the gargoyle answered more spontaneously then very well thought about. In immediate retrospect his words probably only helped to aggravate the situation.

"Well then, let's see..." The gargoyle grabbed the rope tying up Blake's hands as carefully as he could. It barely took more than a very easy looking movement for his claw to split it into two much less restricting pieces.

"That was easy. The question is... who did this to you ?"
- please delete this post -
Almost weekend time, so almost post time for me. I'll try to get stuff up in 24 - 48 hours :)
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