hey guys sorry for the super long delays. I'm not gonna blame testing or holidays because I've been able to work around that before, I just haven't been quite happy with my draft because they don't feel long enough in my opinion. but in knowing that I should get one done so i will try to get one out soon and cast my post length caution in the wind for the next one. again I am really sorry to leave y'all hanging like I have, it wasn't right to have y'all thinking I was about to post.
Jollan
Member
"let's devide by zero!"
(queue apocalypse)
STATUS:
doing trade school online is like reading about a sport and expecting to be able to play it without practice.
6 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 1 yr ago
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 1959 (0.44 / day)
- VMs: 1
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Username history
- Jollan 12 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
6 yrs ago
Current
doing trade school online is like reading about a sport and expecting to be able to play it without practice.
7
likes
7 yrs ago
Trade > bachelors
1
like
8 yrs ago
Desire to type "git gud" intensifies...
2
likes
8 yrs ago
okay, watched the first episode of goblin slayer, not nearly as bad as what it was made out to be. Still a bit depressing but hey, saved 2 of 4 rookies, coulda been worse.
2
likes
8 yrs ago
So i figured out, as much as id love the equivalent of an anime doom guy slaying goblins, i dont like seeing the lovely anime chicas catch a case of the mutilation.
Bio
Why hello, you little stalker. As you can see above I have recorded your visit for potential future stalking purposes. In that list you may find some other recent stalking victims. You may wonder, "Oh no! I've been caught! Whatever shall I do! What will become of me!" Well... I can assure you nothing....as in really...nothing. Except the fact that you may have wasted a precious few moments of your life with this bio. In this, I can say for every person that reads this, I have stolen that moment in your life that you could have been doing something else. Anything really.....Are you still here? Shouldn't you...I don't know, be posting in one of your RPs? I'm sure somebody is waiting for your response, it might even be me. You are procrastinating aren't you? I know I am. At the very moment I typed this I was supposed to be writing papers for class. See? Now I've been wasting time on both our accounts. Look what you made me do.
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...
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Ok, that is enough stalking...
...
There really isn't anything else here...
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I'm gonna call the police...
...
(What's the number for 9-1-1?)
Most Recent Posts
In
Rites Of Passage (a High Fantasy/Forgotten Realms Adventure)
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10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Or...apparently... you can just walk right in, even breaking the door in to process. Not even skipping a beat, as soon as Allard had finished knocking the door, it was kicked out from in front of him. He recoiled a bit at the sudden impact and was surprised even more-so when he couldn't find the culprit, that is, until he looked down. Of all things to kick down that large door it was a gnome, and one with a fancy prosthetic leg at that. To increase the peculiarity even further, another gnome, assumingly the leader, casually walked in and straight for the person at the long table near the other end of the large hall. Allard noted that he sent his comrade, Tiny apparently, back out to speak privately, as to which Allard chuckled considering they had just kicked the door open and broke it while he was standing there. None the less Allard decided to respect what privacy the gnome had asked his comrade for and decided he should just wait at the now broken doorway. He leaned against the archway that the door was just ripped from. He tuned out their conversation and awaited his turn to speak, no wanting to interrupt. Instead he thought about why he was even here.
Allard crossed his arms as he thought. It was more than just because of Mable's suggestion, he knew. He also knew the the real reason he was in this town in the first place. He became a wanderer looking for Andred troops to kill, though they were gone before he was able to find them. He fell upon this town to rest and somehow ended up staying here. Maybe it had something to do with that bar girl. Maybe he was just tired of roaming. He wasn't sure. Now, Allard is a some guild hall waiting to see if he can sign up to be a merc, something he had never saw himself doing. He kept telling himself that he was going to do it just to pay Mable and Cooke back for the years they looked out for each other, but he was sure, that if he did this he would surely be tempted into awakening the past that still haunts his memories. He wanted to make the kingdom of Andred pay. He wanted the ones responsible for the deaths of his family to die on his blade.
Allard shook his head. It wasn't something he should be thinking about now. He looked over to Kayden to see if he was still talking to the gnome. If he was done, Allard would give him a friendly smile and quick stationary wave before heading over to introduce himself.
Allard crossed his arms as he thought. It was more than just because of Mable's suggestion, he knew. He also knew the the real reason he was in this town in the first place. He became a wanderer looking for Andred troops to kill, though they were gone before he was able to find them. He fell upon this town to rest and somehow ended up staying here. Maybe it had something to do with that bar girl. Maybe he was just tired of roaming. He wasn't sure. Now, Allard is a some guild hall waiting to see if he can sign up to be a merc, something he had never saw himself doing. He kept telling himself that he was going to do it just to pay Mable and Cooke back for the years they looked out for each other, but he was sure, that if he did this he would surely be tempted into awakening the past that still haunts his memories. He wanted to make the kingdom of Andred pay. He wanted the ones responsible for the deaths of his family to die on his blade.
Allard shook his head. It wasn't something he should be thinking about now. He looked over to Kayden to see if he was still talking to the gnome. If he was done, Allard would give him a friendly smile and quick stationary wave before heading over to introduce himself.
In
Rites Of Passage (a High Fantasy/Forgotten Realms Adventure)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
alright, now that thanksgiving with the family is done, i have to just help put lights up. so, expect a post tonight! woot woot!
In
Rites Of Passage (a High Fantasy/Forgotten Realms Adventure)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Roleplay
whooooooaaaaa shiiii-
sorry I was thinking maybe it wasn't my turn. I'll try to get something out post haste when I can get to a computer
sorry I was thinking maybe it wasn't my turn. I'll try to get something out post haste when I can get to a computer
Haha, cool, I'm not the only one. I do make a point though to make my character before seeing everyone else's because of this. don't want to subconsciously try to make my guy have that unrealistic edge on anyone.
and I don't know why I just now remembered, but I'm gonna go take a peak at that other rp of yours too,@POOHEAD189
and I don't know why I just now remembered, but I'm gonna go take a peak at that other rp of yours too,@POOHEAD189
is it weird or wrong that in all my rps, after I finish making a character I always think about what could happen if he got in a fight with the other characters. not that they have ever fought friendly people or want them to fight, I just ponder it after making them and then going back and looking at other people's characters
Terra nodded as she fell in line next to Morgan and Cilia, that was, until they both turned to shadows. "Uh, guys? I can't do that." She then noticed a black spike coming for her and used her staff to deflect it. Instead, the black spike deflected her staff and with a shriek, Terra dove to the side to dodge it.
Dremmick started spinning his chained dart for momentum and then threw it toward the woman, sidestepping the black spike as he did so. If it hit, great, if not, then he would use it to pull himself closer and close the gap between them so he could fight her with his dagger. The black spike however, catch him slightly off guard. Without knowing what the persons powers were till now, and with the sudden act within such close quarters, the spike did catch him in his right side. However, he was able to move enough out of the way for it not to hit anything major, but cause a large gash in his side.
Though, not all was normal. To anyone around him who would be able to pay attention to it at the heat of the moment, may notice that he wasn't using his cursed magic to repress the bleeding of the wound. And unknown even to Dremmick and the others as he pulled on the chain to launch himself forward, under the wraps and the mask... he was smiling.
Dremmick started spinning his chained dart for momentum and then threw it toward the woman, sidestepping the black spike as he did so. If it hit, great, if not, then he would use it to pull himself closer and close the gap between them so he could fight her with his dagger. The black spike however, catch him slightly off guard. Without knowing what the persons powers were till now, and with the sudden act within such close quarters, the spike did catch him in his right side. However, he was able to move enough out of the way for it not to hit anything major, but cause a large gash in his side.
Though, not all was normal. To anyone around him who would be able to pay attention to it at the heat of the moment, may notice that he wasn't using his cursed magic to repress the bleeding of the wound. And unknown even to Dremmick and the others as he pulled on the chain to launch himself forward, under the wraps and the mask... he was smiling.
aaaaaaaannnnnndd pooooooooosteeeeeed!
Cripes that felt amazing.
Cripes that felt amazing.
In a tiny little side street in the slums of Starkvale lies an incredibly small tavern. The tavern was comprised of two small round tables, six chairs each, and a bar with another six chairs. Behind the bar where a door should be, was just a doorway that led to the very limited kitchen. To the left of the bar was a staircase that led to a loft that held the living quarters of the barkeep/barmaid, a fiery lass in her mid twenties who was left in charge of the tavern while her father was away.... for the past few years. Normally she would be a little concerned of the security of this place with just her and her older brother, the cook. However, for the past few years, things have been a little safer than they used to be. Speaking of which...
The doors flew open as a man went flying out, landing face first on the street. The man groaned and just stayed on the ground, too drunk to pick himself up. Allard closed the door and turned around clapping his hands together as if dusting them off, "Well, that makes about three in one night. Must be a full moon out," he said with a slight chuckle. He made his way to the edge of the bar and sat in one of the stools, stooping a little to avoid the headboard. It was short to him, but just right for Mable, the barkeep. Her family wasn't halflings or dwarves or anything, they were just short.
Mable handed him a wooden tankard of ale, which would have gone to the other gentleman had he not got himself thrown out, to which Allard gladly accepted. "You know," she started, "I heard a new mercenary guild has just popped up close to the gate. Heard they were rewarded their own hall after defeating a death knight and rescuing a Lord."
"Busy people, eh?" Allard took a swig from the tankard, as he knew where this was heading.
"You should check and see they have any openings," Mable suggested, leaning over the counter and looking up at Allard,who was already shaking his head. "Why not? You could at least go and look at it."
"I've told you before, Mable, I'm not interested in joining a guild. Much less a Merc group. They are normally in it for themselves and will slit a throat for the highest bidder so that they can afford their next pint of ale."
Now it was Mable's turn to shake her head as she straightened up with a sigh. "Look, I know you don't like them all that much. But I've known you for five years now, and all you do is help other people, normally at your own expense. You deserve to be a little selfish now and again. you should have your own place to call home."
"What's wrong with where I am now," Allard asked setting down his drink and crossing his arms.
"Al," she started, a little exasperated, "Its a small shelter in an alley where you decided to string up a hammock. Its not exactly home sweet home." She undid her bun that she had for work and started braiding her long brown hair as Cooke, the cook, came out from the back and locked the front door, grabbing a seat himself. They were closed now, since they weren't an inn, they shut down around midnight.
Allard rubbed the back of his neck and looked away for a second. She wasn't wrong. He came to this town with nothing but his personal belongings and so far that's all he still had. "But what about the tavern, I wouldn't be able to keep an eye people for you and toss them out when things get hairy." Though, as ever, it seemed she had an answer to that as well.
"We can manage as we did before you got here. I think everyone has forgotten how nerve wracking Cooke can be with his kitchen knives. Hes got a good arm, that one."
Cooke just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Its true," he said with a smile. "I think its the clever that really strikes fear into their souls though," he finished with a short laugh. "I think we'll be fine here. Besides, its not like you are leaving town. You'll still live here."
Allard turned to Cooke in disbelief. He was usually the one that sided with him in arguments. "Well, I can't believe you both want me gone so badly," he said in a fake dejected tone. He even added extra theatrics as he placed a clenching hand over his heart.
"Oh come off it," Mable cut in as she finished her hair. "Look, we just want to see something done right by you for a change. At least go up there and check it out. For me. Alright?"
Allard looked down and grumbled before looking back up to meet her and Cooke in the eyes in turn. "Alright I'll do it, but this is the last time. No more, alright?" he questioned, particularly toward Mable as he pointed a finger at her.
She smiled and chuckled at her victory, however small it was. "Alright then, out out out. We've all got an early day tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep."
Allard smiled in return and poured the remaining ale into his flask until it was full and downed the rest. "Alright, but don't be surprised if I am here tomorrow saying 'I told you so'," he said as he unlocked and headed out the door.
"Don't worry, we will, and we will have some stew and ale here for ya. Good night, Allard," Cooke said as he closed the door. Stew and ale, good as it is, it really is all they serve.
"G'night, Al," Mable called as well.
"Good night," Allard waved as the heavy wood door closed and locked. He chuckled once again as he stepped over the now snoring man he had thrown out earlier and made his way back to his, uh, 'abode'.
---
The next day, around lunchtime, Allard finally dragged himself to the doors of the guild. He had made a decision last night. If he found himself joining this guild, he would use it to support Mable and Cooke's tavern. Maybe even afford her a new one some day that would make their father proud, whether upon their father's return or from the afterlife that is.
Upon walking up to the doors he caught the scowling eye of a couple guards at the gate, to which Allard just raised an eyebrow waved as they turned away. Although Allard didn't know it, those guards in particular had to pick a drunk man off the street last night outside of a bar that they knew Allard frequented throwing people out of.
Allard decided that the best coarse of action would be to knock on the large doors instead of opening them without notice to anyone inside. Just randomly busting into a guild's hall seemed like something that could get you skewered, which was not the kind of attention he was looking for. Even if the guards may find it hilarious. With that thought in mind, he gave the large door three sound knocks, hoping anyone inside would be there to hear, answer, or safely beckon him inside.
The doors flew open as a man went flying out, landing face first on the street. The man groaned and just stayed on the ground, too drunk to pick himself up. Allard closed the door and turned around clapping his hands together as if dusting them off, "Well, that makes about three in one night. Must be a full moon out," he said with a slight chuckle. He made his way to the edge of the bar and sat in one of the stools, stooping a little to avoid the headboard. It was short to him, but just right for Mable, the barkeep. Her family wasn't halflings or dwarves or anything, they were just short.
Mable handed him a wooden tankard of ale, which would have gone to the other gentleman had he not got himself thrown out, to which Allard gladly accepted. "You know," she started, "I heard a new mercenary guild has just popped up close to the gate. Heard they were rewarded their own hall after defeating a death knight and rescuing a Lord."
"Busy people, eh?" Allard took a swig from the tankard, as he knew where this was heading.
"You should check and see they have any openings," Mable suggested, leaning over the counter and looking up at Allard,who was already shaking his head. "Why not? You could at least go and look at it."
"I've told you before, Mable, I'm not interested in joining a guild. Much less a Merc group. They are normally in it for themselves and will slit a throat for the highest bidder so that they can afford their next pint of ale."
Now it was Mable's turn to shake her head as she straightened up with a sigh. "Look, I know you don't like them all that much. But I've known you for five years now, and all you do is help other people, normally at your own expense. You deserve to be a little selfish now and again. you should have your own place to call home."
"What's wrong with where I am now," Allard asked setting down his drink and crossing his arms.
"Al," she started, a little exasperated, "Its a small shelter in an alley where you decided to string up a hammock. Its not exactly home sweet home." She undid her bun that she had for work and started braiding her long brown hair as Cooke, the cook, came out from the back and locked the front door, grabbing a seat himself. They were closed now, since they weren't an inn, they shut down around midnight.
Allard rubbed the back of his neck and looked away for a second. She wasn't wrong. He came to this town with nothing but his personal belongings and so far that's all he still had. "But what about the tavern, I wouldn't be able to keep an eye people for you and toss them out when things get hairy." Though, as ever, it seemed she had an answer to that as well.
"We can manage as we did before you got here. I think everyone has forgotten how nerve wracking Cooke can be with his kitchen knives. Hes got a good arm, that one."
Cooke just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Its true," he said with a smile. "I think its the clever that really strikes fear into their souls though," he finished with a short laugh. "I think we'll be fine here. Besides, its not like you are leaving town. You'll still live here."
Allard turned to Cooke in disbelief. He was usually the one that sided with him in arguments. "Well, I can't believe you both want me gone so badly," he said in a fake dejected tone. He even added extra theatrics as he placed a clenching hand over his heart.
"Oh come off it," Mable cut in as she finished her hair. "Look, we just want to see something done right by you for a change. At least go up there and check it out. For me. Alright?"
Allard looked down and grumbled before looking back up to meet her and Cooke in the eyes in turn. "Alright I'll do it, but this is the last time. No more, alright?" he questioned, particularly toward Mable as he pointed a finger at her.
She smiled and chuckled at her victory, however small it was. "Alright then, out out out. We've all got an early day tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep."
Allard smiled in return and poured the remaining ale into his flask until it was full and downed the rest. "Alright, but don't be surprised if I am here tomorrow saying 'I told you so'," he said as he unlocked and headed out the door.
"Don't worry, we will, and we will have some stew and ale here for ya. Good night, Allard," Cooke said as he closed the door. Stew and ale, good as it is, it really is all they serve.
"G'night, Al," Mable called as well.
"Good night," Allard waved as the heavy wood door closed and locked. He chuckled once again as he stepped over the now snoring man he had thrown out earlier and made his way back to his, uh, 'abode'.
---
The next day, around lunchtime, Allard finally dragged himself to the doors of the guild. He had made a decision last night. If he found himself joining this guild, he would use it to support Mable and Cooke's tavern. Maybe even afford her a new one some day that would make their father proud, whether upon their father's return or from the afterlife that is.
Upon walking up to the doors he caught the scowling eye of a couple guards at the gate, to which Allard just raised an eyebrow waved as they turned away. Although Allard didn't know it, those guards in particular had to pick a drunk man off the street last night outside of a bar that they knew Allard frequented throwing people out of.
Allard decided that the best coarse of action would be to knock on the large doors instead of opening them without notice to anyone inside. Just randomly busting into a guild's hall seemed like something that could get you skewered, which was not the kind of attention he was looking for. Even if the guards may find it hilarious. With that thought in mind, he gave the large door three sound knocks, hoping anyone inside would be there to hear, answer, or safely beckon him inside.
sweeeeet! One question though, will the new characters already be in the merc guild or will they be picked up by the leader?
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