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4 mos ago
Half of Blink 182 is Wink 91.
1 yr ago
A Freudian Slip is when you mean one thing but fuck your mother.
1 yr ago
A baby chicken is a chick. An adult chicken is a hen. Chick-hen. Clever bastards.
1 yr ago
When I was heating up something in the microwave it sounded like World War 2, but even then it still came out cold.
1 yr ago
About time, we haven't had a major world event in almost 24 hours. Man... 2016.


Well, since you're here, might as well take a seat.

... not that there are any.

Psst... I'm not saying that you don't know, but the pics are clickable

"I like it when the center is wet."

"You're the biggest bitch I know, but you're funny sometimes, so it's okay."
Friend of mine

Most Recent Posts


Yup haha.

I'll be posting the link of piratepad in Discord, so just get on whenever

Edit: Just in case

Me and Didact plan on a collab, you in buddy?
@Fat Boy Kyle

Take your time, the slower pace of this rp is pretty good for moving n stuff I think.


Looking forward to it.

@Fat Boy Kyle

Currently in the process of moving between countries while being in an intermediary country, it's fun.

Hey no worries.

Also thanks haha! Festive Halloween spirit y'know?

Since your character's going for the drowner contract, feel free to interact, and if you want I can jump in for a quick collab.

Niavak Delthrane
Jolly Lion Inn - City of Telchar

His now cold meal was all about finished. The silent prattle now beginning to liven up as the day continues to amble by. Two of the more louder individuals catching the eyes of a few patrons, with a man that seemed to be out of it, and a woman feeding him some... concoction. It was an interesting sight to behold for a moment or two. From behind his ale, his eyes began drifting aimlessly through the sea of faces, stopping and landing directly on a quirky twosome that had just entered the inn- particularly the man who holstered two blades on his hip. Even if Niavak himself does similarly, it was still an odd sight to find another individual who carries two swords. Niavak's brow rose as his eyes followed the man; noticing the stranger's gait, he had summised that this man is an experienced swordsman. It was easy to miss the way he carried himself proved so. Niavak's varied experience had trained his eyes to find the finer movement of individuals, being able to easily discern between an expert and a competent user.

Interesting, this city does live up to it's tales, he mused wordlessly behind his tankard. As he got up, his swords buckled under his feet, and after taking one last look at the stranger he walked to the door. It was time for him to follow up on the leads. His eyes narrowed at the blinding light, the day was much to bright for himself. His gaze meandered through the rows of houses, looking for any signs of the 'Town Hall' so that he could take up the contract. He also wouldn't mind company in this contract as drowners come in packs. After a few wrong turns he took to asking a random passerby. He handed the man a few bronze coins as he pointed towards the general direction of the town hall.

He made his way to the hall, his leather boots sinking slightly in the recently muddied roads. His thoughts ended up wandering towards the witcher executed here, the few and far between hearsay and rumors speak of it being unjust execution with no real trial. This city is darker than Niavak initially realised. A few more minutes of walking led him to the doors of the hall, which looked cleaner and fancier than the tens of creaky houses he had passed by. With a strong gaze upwards, he went into the hall. He was led in by a person to the office of Captain Artorias and Monroe.

"Greetings." he said, his voice slightly coarse having not spoken that day as of yet. With a light cough he continued, "I have caught wind of a contract about a workshop's girl disappearing, and I would like to take it up. Of course I wouldn't mind waiting on a few more individuals as I've also heard it was a gaggle of Drowners that took the girl."

Niavak Delthrane
Northwall -> Central - City of Telchar

A sigh of relief escaped Niavak's lips as the caravan passed through the familiar, rickety gates of Telchar. For better or worse, Niavak had been tasked to guard the trader and his goods by himself. It had been a four day journey from the rambunctious city of Turr, the caravan had slowed down their trek by a day. Luckily it was only a few scant untrained bandits, and a pack of wolves that had slowed their journey. The bandits were quickly dispatched off as they had no formal training, with the only damage he received being boredom and disappointment; the wolves scattered as soon as more than a handful perished under his gleaming blade.

He rubbed his slightly aching leg as the trader spoke with the guards, and they were let in. The trader then patted himself off, handed him a bag of crowns, and went off- disappearing into the sea of faces. Odd fellow, pleasantly pleased that he didn't try to converse to much through the passage, he thought, sliding the dusty sack into his inner pockets. Niavak rolled his shoulders, taking a long look at the city, coupled with the city's hustle and bustle, the city gave off an air of normalcy. "Is this really where they ended that poor sod off?" he muttered almost inaudibly to no one in particular, "Smoke and mirrors, huh?"

His steps took him to Central, eyeing for the 'Jolly Lion inn'. A hearty meal, and a nap would do good to the man's mental physique. After a few moments of pacing aimlessly in the central he finally located the inn, the loud chatter and the lingering smell of ale gave it away. Stepping in he was nary cast a look, his creaking steps through the old oak smothered by the clamor of the establishment. "Room please." he asked, placing crowns on the counter. As the woman scraped off the coin, she led him to his room upstairs. As he settled in the woman handed her his keys, and left finding her way back into the ground floor. The door locked with a click, and he began taking off his murky cloak then his steel armor. "Damned long day."

With his body heavy, and his eyes failing he slowly drifted off into a rare, relatively restful sleep.


"Listen Niavak," A blurry cloaked figure called out from the stern of a wooden ship, the storms were unlike anything Niavak had ever witnessed "You have to g-" The man's words were cut off by a crackle of white that barreled down the mast of the ship, simultaneously lighting on fire. A large wave then thrashed the already barely held together ship, with the force violently thrashing the young Niavak into the dark depths of the ocean. The fiery ship that lit up the night soon bled into nothingness as the black and red of the sea slowly began to envelope his sight.

He woke up in a cold sweat, heaving lightly as his eyes swam nervously around the wooden walls of the inn. Outside the window, he noticed it was about sunrise making him decide to get up. His joints cracked as he got up, sluggishly equipping his armour then his tattered cloak. Niavak wasn't exactly a morning person, making his way to the ground floor to grab a bite to eat. Luckily it isn't as noisy as it is at night, the only people up were a few patrons dead asleep on the counters, and a gaggle not-so morning people like him. He spotted an empty table, and slowly sauntered towards it. Waving over the 'waitress', he ordered for the generic special for that fine morning.

"Hey, y'heard of the workshop's daughter gone missin'?"
"I 'eard, say he let up a hefty contract- two hundred crowns for her return."
"So ye feel like takin' it up?"
"Nah, I 'eard it was drowners, ain't my thing."
"Bet you would if ye coul' shag her."
"Ey fook off, you'd piss yerself silly infont of the drowners."

"Here's your food." she said snapping Niavak out of the conversation to the table next to him. She placed down a steaming soup with soft bread, and meat on the side. He slid some copper in her hand and she left him to his devices. He began slowly consuming his meal, his mind drifting into the drowner contract the two unsavory fellows spoke of, "Might be worth a little look."

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