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10 mos ago
Mahz finally picked up the milk.
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K A S S A R O C K
28 | M | GMT
Greetings friends, partners, enemies, acquaintances, and strangers. I am Kassarock, or just Kass if you prefer, welcome to my profile. Anyway, I am a 20 something male roleplayer from the UK and a long time user of the site, although I have come and gone a fair bit over my time here. I used to be more active on the old site, and I still am relatively active in the off topic sections today, as well as in the guild's discord. So you might see me around.

I generally consider myself to be an advanced writer, I pretty much always write multiple paragraphs, and will drop walls of text if the mood takes me. My grammar is okay, but not formally perfect, so I do not expect that from my partners either. I normally like quite dark and dramatic themes in terms of content in my roleplays, regardless of genre. Unless I have got an interest check up, or have messaged you, I am not usually looking for new partners to write with.

I think that covers just about everything. Message me if you want to know more.
Original Join Date: 07/04/2009

Advanced, Casual, 1x1, Nation, Tabletop

Historical, Fantasy, Sci-fi, Romance, Drama

Writer, Archaeologist, Cymro

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Current Roleplays and Interest Checks

Adventure Awaits! | CYOA | Fantasy | A mystery adventurer is sent to a mountaintop temple to rescue a missing woman.



Other Things

Current Avatar | Connor Fawcett

Check out my Character Archive for other/old character sheets.


Most Recent Posts

Righto after one final horrendous push because of coronavirus, I am now off contract and am only doing self employed work-from-home stuff until April at least, although the way things are looking that might be cancelled. So posting schedule so be a bit more normal/frequent. One plus to self isolation.
Ozragad watched as the Princess trembled before him, her white fingers clenched around a leather bound tome she had drawn from the shelves. What was this? Fear or anger? Did it matter either way? Just another manifestation of the rift between their peoples, between their countries, and between them as people. Then she spoke and all became clear, it was anger, of course it would be anger. I should have known that about this Eorzian Princess by now.

He felt her eyes linger over him as his own did the same. The black lace dress against her pale skin, it reminded him of the gown she had worn the night of the feast, the one that he pictured her in whenever the Princess crossed his mind. How different it was to the bright and gaudy colours he normally associated with the people across the border. There was something almost sculptural about it, the play between black and white, like marble and basalt. Regal perhaps.

Ozragad wondered then what it was that she thought of him...

Suddenly she looked away from him, at the book clutched in her hands. She was embarrassed? What by? Had she noticed the way he had been staring at her, looking her over? Perhaps she mistook it for a sign of desire. Ridiculous of course, why should he have any desire for an Eorzian Princess, other than for the sake of his people? She is my enemy, that is I think of her and wonder what she thinks of me, no other reason necessary.

He coughed into his hand and broke his own gaze away, walking past her and deeper into the library. When she spoke again and he turned once more to face her. And she was smiling, complimenting him on the great trove of books and scrolls assembled within the palace. The King could swear he that he felt a light flush in his cheeks. Why would that be? He hoped he was not coming down with a fever.

"Yes... well.. I cannot take credit for it. This was mostly the work of my mother, and my grandfather before her. I have made few additions." He frowned then, realising that was not strictly true. There was a large collection of Eorzian literature he had plundered from the Royal Library of Novrandt before he had burnt the rest. Perhaps this was not the best time to mention that.

The book she held up was one he was familiar with, Ysgollia's Genealogies of the Great Houses, it had been commissioned as a gift to his grandmother when she had wed the House of Gwydion onto the throne of Morganyth. It showed the lineages of all the ancient Formori nobles that still resided east of the Kazadum, and traced the roots of many of them back to the mythic Kingdoms and Queendoms that had once existed where now only Eorzian humans ruled.

It would no doubt be something of grim read for her. Wait why should he care? It will just lead to some other fight, some other conflict with her. That is why I care, nothing more.

"My cousin has a kind heart. But that is a dry and ponderous tome of history, Ysgollia was a diligent researcher but his prose lacks finesse. I would recommend 'Recollections upon the Queen's Court', less scholarly but a much but more colourful picture of life at court. More recent too..." He stopped. That book had been written near the start of his reign, most of those it mentioned were dead, and it had been written before her grandfather had even been born. "Relatively speaking of course."

It was his own turn to feel embarrassed it seemed. How long had it been since he had commissioned a new work to sit in here? Some of his retired generals had set down memoirs of his campaigns that they had generously sent him, but he had not chronicled a single year of his reign, not since the war.

Ozragad coughed and turned away again, pretending to examine whatever collection of books and scrolls happened to be in front of him. Which in this case were... the erotic poetry Idras of Iscarion. His face went pale. Thankfully most of it was written in old High Formori. She couldn't read High Formori could she? Wait! Why do I care if she could?!

He almost missed what she said, had he heard anything from Eorzia? Of course had heard from Eorzia, he had spies and scouts over the border sending dispatches, as well as envoys riding to and from the capital hammering out the exact terms of the peace treaty, the wedding, the dowry, the alliance that would follow, everything really. Then he saw the downcast look upon her face and realised she did not mean had he heard from Eorzia in that sense.

"There are envoys travelling between our two countries regularly now. Lord Chancellor Iria oversees our correspondence, I will no doubt he seeing him later today. I will ask him when I do."
Cool, I'll get something up tomorrow hopefully.

I been good, a bit hectic, working nights right now which is really fucking with my sleeping pattern and schedules in general. Hopefully should calm down next week a bit.
Working on something, would you like there to be letters for Elise from Eorzia?
Likewise, still alive, just waiting for my action to be resolved and another post to react to.
@Milkman Yeah been working on a sheet, will post it either tonight or tomorrow.
Again real sorry for the delay, I just couldn't find the angle I wanted to take with this, but its up now!
In the days following the feast, it seemed that Ozragad had little time to himself. The King was kept busy by his duties, the responsibilities of state and nation that would neither abate nor recede for any ruler. He sat long in council with his advisers, discussing the problems that had arising as a result of his proposed union with Eorzia, trying to quell insurrection before it happened. There were further riots in the Cirith Anyr, none quite as bad as the first one, but vexing none the less.

Worse than that, from further across his Kingdom messengers brought them disturbing news. Ozragad and his councillors had expected to at least partially lose the Ashlanders, but now there were whispers of spreading insurrection. Truculent lords marshalling troops in the Ash wastes were sending out messengers of their own to make common cause with those on The Bleak Coast, and in the Grey Mountains. It was the makings of a Civil War.

And beside these weighty issues there was everything else. A palace to run, a city to govern, soldiers that needed paying, peasants that needed feeding. And a wedding of course, a wedding that would need to be organised. His wedding. The King tried to think about it as little as possible. There were other, more important, things that Ozragad needed to do first. He set all thoughts of the Eorzian Princess as far back in his mind as he could manage.

Yet think about her he did. It was hard not to, when she seemed to be the root of so many of the problems he was dealing with, as well as being the subject of daily reports he received from the spies Manawyndan had set amongst her household. But even then sometimes he just happened to find himself thinking of her for no particular reason. The dark dress against her pale skin and golden hair. The thin veneer of courtesy that hid her temper. The flashes of fear and anger in those deep blue eyes. Whenever these thoughts came, he pushed them away again. She's just another Hydaelyn. Besides, even if she wasn't, no one could ever replace... her...

Ozragad pushed those thoughts away when they came as well.

One day when the King found a spare moment between his morning council session and his duties later in the day. To escape the throng of courtiers that vied for his attention and favour at times such as these, he went in search of somewhere they would not think to look. He thought of going down to the armouries or perhaps the stables, when a pair of large wooden doors caught his attention. The Library. Ozragad hadn't been in there in years, he had read most anything that had pertained to his interests in his youth, and he had not expanded its collection greatly during the years of the war. Something however drew him to the door, nostalgia perhaps.

He left his guards at the outer doors before he strode into the cavernous room. It was much as he remembered. There was an austerity about the library as there was about the palace in general. Few soft furnishings or composite materials. A place of carved stone and dark polished wooden shelves that stretched high up into the shadows above. Some of those shelves were filled with ancient Morganythian scrolls of epic poetry and history. Others were taken up by codices of stories, science, mathematics and philosophy.

It took a moment for Ozragad to realise he was not alone. She was here. The Princess. His betrothed.

"Oh." His voice was flat, emotionless. "Its you."

He hesitated for a moment, resisting the urge to step back out of those doors and go somewhere else. He had dressed simply that morning, a leather jerkin over a dark dark tunic. He felt strangely vulnerable meeting her without the weight of his armour. A sword and a dagger still hung from his belt though.

Why did she have to be in this particular room at this particular moment? Ozragad didn't want to do this now. He didn't want to have to deal with her. He had just wanted a quiet moment to himself, away from all the problems that beset him and his Kingdom. But he wouldn't show any weakness. He would not be the one to leave And why should I leave? Its my palace after all, I'm hardly the interloper here.

He took a step forward into the room.

"Admiring my collection?"

Yeah sorry that post is gonna be delayed, didn't finish it yesterday and I'm busy all today, will work more on it on Sunday.

Sorry the pace has slowed down so much, just had a lot of work during the week and busy weekends at the moment.
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