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7 mos ago
Current I published a book! jlbrightman.itch.io/ko-luhn…
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7 yrs ago
Discord crashed lads. Can't get back in.
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8 yrs ago
I've opened art commissions up, anyone who wants relatively cheap art PM me here or on Discord: LeeRoy#8459
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11 yrs ago
[quote=@Rilla] DID YOU JUST TRY AND CLOTHESLINE ME, YOU LITTLE SHIT [/quote]
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"If you kill a man, you scorn his wife. If you kill his wife, you scorn her child. If you kill her child, you scorn his village. If you kill his village, you scorn the kingdom. If you kill the kingdom you scorn an empire. If you kill an empire, then who is left?"

Most Recent Posts

A cold chill on his shoulder was nothing to a man who feels nothing but the icy grip of death constantly, though the chill was familiar. The Snow Queen was a frequent of Mab's "parties" and often seen consorting with her and the upper class of Winter Court. Viona apparently only recognized the champion as the champion, and not as someone she had met before. Fortunate, that means that he won't have to converse with her in the future. Unless some dire circumstance were to befall her or her posse. Viona is quite evidently the sort who enjoys manipulating people through clever wordplay, and Nikolai is quite aware of this sort of manipulation. As she attempted to ensnare his interests it was becoming abundantly clear that she at least knew how Nikolai felt about the lesser races. However, she was apparently unaware of his views on senseless violence. This would have visibly agitated the headless man, if his face was visible. Which it is not, as he is headless. "I am certain that your frigid escort serves as sufficient protection. Unless you believe he is some mere sprite, without the bite and vigor to engage in single combat." The head inside of his case smirked, the chain covering hid the emotion from the Snow Queen. "And that would be unseamly rude to your companion, wouldn't it, Lady Viona? You wouldn't want to offend him, to be sure."
Sorry, sorry. I'm writing up my post now, I've been preoccupied with life.
I'll try and get a post up by tonight.
In the far reaches of space, an elderly man with an excellent beard sits on a stump. He's listening to music two generations too young for him to be listening to, and enjoying every second of it. The old man's name is Kanitah, and he's taking a short break on a backwoods planet in the middle of bumfuck nowhere in space. After his past expedition into the multiverse, Kanitah's daughter fled from home with a powerful weapon in hand, the old man had to give chase. Otherwise his wife would never let him hear the end of it, so for the past year or so, he's been looking for her. Trying his best to catch her before she does something reckless and borderline suicidal.

Like her Father.


Kanitah, only three years after the rather exhausting venture into the Multiverse, had managed to recover fully from his injuries. The scars that had once impeded his movement and caused him pain now just an unfortunate stain on his 'perfect' aesthetic. On this little planet in bumfuck nowhere, he realized something. That he had been fighting for pretty much his whole life, and honestly, he didn't even regret it. These quiet moments alone with his thoughts are perfect, but the rush of battle is where a true man finds peace.

Defeating a powerful foe who stands in your way, or being the powerful foe standing in someone else's way. Either path is good, a challenge of any kind will always make the blood run hot in your veins.

The wind blew through his hair as the music banged out in his ears, the strange alien grass tickling at his exposed calves. (He had rolled his pant-legs and sleeves up to get comfortable while he rests.) Not a care in the world, aside from the fate of his daughter, but some slight tingle at the back of his neck kept bugging him.

Not a chance in the world that something could concievably go wrong in such an obscure little rock in space, but even so, the feeling just wouldn't stop bugging him.
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Hey, Didact. You can edit first posts now, so you can put the map in the first post.
I mean, I'm waiting on you. So...
In the Frigid Northern wasteland known as the Winter Court, two weeks prior to the wedding. A messenger from The Rus capital arrived at noon, shivering and covered in frost. The message bore news of a wedding between nobility from both Europa and The Rus. Surely joyous news, for them at least. Word was delivered to the Queen of Winter Court, she was far too preoccupied with more 'at home' matters to even consider arriving at the wedding. Several folk of higher standing were overjoyed, an event like this would surely improve their social status and make them seem more interesting. They loaded their carts and set out to the wedding. In the main hall, Queen Mab ordered Sir Nikolai to follow along. To serve as something of a substitute for the queen herself. To be sure, this had greater implications. Refusing an invitation to a wedding and sending instead a diplomat to record the events. Some would be insulted. However, not sending any word, or outright disregarding the invitation would be more of an insult. Nikolai obliged, leaving at once to ready himself for the long trip. There are no permanent roads in Winter Court. Only the path cut by those daring few who venture out into the cold. The journey to and from Winter Court is always treacherous, makes warring against them difficult. Invasion is suicidal at worst, stupid at best. It also makes general commerce difficult as well. I'm digressing. In Nikolai's personal chambers a sneaky peeker would see him donning a suit of skintight furs, from neck to toe it covered his body. Why is he wearing this? Metal armor on bare skin in the cold is the worst possible thing, you have no idea. The suit of furs was to insulate him and allow him to wear his armor at the same time. After slipping himself into the outfit he slid his armor on over it. The chainmail first and then the platemail, of course. After his furs and armor were donned, he pulled a robe over his armor, concealing it from view. Around his waist he tied the rope that his head hangs from, clipping the box onto the sling. To complete his wardrobe he slid a cloak around his neck. His hood was pulled up and held in place with some metal wiring, the hood also had a mesh frame in front of it. Behind the frame was a silk cloth, making it impossible for people to see his lack of a head. Another downside to being headless, it's surprising to everyone. After dressing himself warmly, he walked to the stables and mounted his trusty horse Pheidippedes. The colossal stallion was already loaded with feed, equipment, rations, and his weapons. The horse too was wearing a cloak of furs to keep him warm. Fast forward past all of the dreary snowy walking sequences, don't ignore the fact that a couple nobles died on their trip to the wedding due to a raider attack, and then you have Nikolai at the main gate to the city the Wedding is being hosted in. The horseman had a bit of trouble getting past the guards, explaining to them that he had a severe deformnity that would offend other people. Having to hide his actual head from them just to get past the gate. When the Dragons arrived, Nikolai positioned himself at the nearest inn and sat at the counter with hood raised. Not ordering anything, for obvious reasons, simply sittng there and listening to the conversations around him. For the next two days Nikolai rested in the inn, rather than occupying himself with the other nobility. They bored him, and honestly, if he had known about the ruckus going on with Prince Charming, he would have been rather upset that he had to stay here and participate with some stupid wedding.
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