POOHEAD189 is a Moderator. They assist users and keep the forum running smoothly. They have power across all forums.


Recent Statuses

10 hrs ago
Current Submitting a story piece to the Black Library today. Let's see if my guardsmen make it into the big leagues!
2 days ago
Well the fuckboys you knew in school probably had fuckboy kids.
3 days ago
Dredd 2012 is an underrated movie
1 like
3 days ago
Just a few more updates on my RPs, then I can get back to finishing my Novella the rest of the week! If I keep this up I should be done before Halloween.
4 days ago
That's crazy. One sings and one plays drums.


About Me

Name: Ben
Username: The one and only. Dare I say?
Age: 28
Ethnicity: Mixed
Sex: Male
Religion: Christian (Nondenominational)
Languages: English, Japanese (Semi-fluent & learning), I also know some Scots Gaelic, Quenyan (Elvish), and Miccosukee (My tribal tongue)
Relationship Status: Single (Though generally unavailable unless I find I really enjoy someone).

Current Projects/Freelance work

  • I am a voice talent and script writer for Faerun History
  • I have a much smaller personal Youtube channel that I use to make videos on various subjects. Only been making videos for a year, but it's growing!
  • I am currently working as a small time Author for Suntarynn Campaign setting, though the first story is still on its first draft. Will be published soon!
  • I am also the Character Artist and Script writer for a shitty game me and a few friends of mine are making.
  • Am going to be interviewed by the Dungeoncast at the end of June!

Interests (Includes but is not limited to)

  • Writing/Reading (Love writing and I own too many books)
  • Video Games (Been a gamer for close to 23 years now)
  • Working Out/Martial Arts (Wing Chun/Oyama Karate mostly. Some historical swordplay as well.)
  • History (Military History is my specialty)
  • Zoology
  • Art (Mostly Illustrations. Used to be good. Am picking it back up)
  • Voice Acting/Singing
  • Tabletop Gaming (Started late in the game. Been at it for 3 years. I was the kid who bought the monster manuals and D&D books just for the lore for the longest time. I've played 3.5e, 5e, Star Wars D20, Edge of the Empire, PF, and PF2.)
  • Weaponry of all kinds
  • Anime (mostly action/shonen. DBZ & YYH being my favorites)
  • Movies (Action/War/Drama films being my go-to)
  • Music (Rock of all kinds, as well as historical folk songs, sea shanties, pub songs, a bit of classical music, etc)
  • Guitar (am learning to play, but being left handed leaves me going slower than most would)
  • There's more but if you care enough you can PM me :P

Roleplay F.A.Q.

  • Fantasy, Sci Fi, and Historical are my genres. Fantasy being my favorite and Sci Fi/Historical being close seconds.
  • Advanced / Nation / 1x1 / Casual (only in certain circumstances)
  • I generally write at the 'Advanced Level' meaning 4+ Paragraphs with good grammar.
  • I am usually busy with many projects and RPs, but if you wish to do a 1x1 with me, you'll need to present your case. Those I already do it with have my trust as a Roleplayer.
  • I generally don't do full smut, though semi-smut and steamy scenes can be very fun, as long as they're for character/plot development.
  • I love many, many fictional universes so me trying to list them all is an effort in futility!

Regular F.A.Q.

  • I am a site Mod, as you can see. Do not hesitate to PM me with any problems you have!
  • I love animals.
  • Favorite Fantasy Races are Dwarves and Lizardfolk. I don't hate Elves though I'll act like I do.
  • I do my best to be as kind and cordial as I can be! I realize everyone is flawed in some way, and I do my best to be understanding. I'm an idealist after all. Though if you push me past my limits, you'll find me rather redoubtable.
  • Favorite Disney Movie is Aladdin, with Hunchback and Mulan as second favorites! But I love all of the Renaissance era films.
  • I love meeting online friends at cons, and going to cons in general!
  • Favorite Color is red (as you might have noticed)
  • If you wish for my Steam/Blizzard Account/Xbox live account, PM me. Though I use the same username everywhere and if you send a request and I know you, I'll likely accept. I am available on the Offical Guild discord as a mod, and I am also available on Skype for people who wish for that info (and I trust you enough to give it)
  • I have a Tumblr and a writing/art reference Side Account.
  • I have a pinterest too! Lots of images I use for stories and roleplays!


Most Recent Posts

Roland collected himself as best he could, regaining his senses in what seemed like an eternity. He blinked, his vision still hazy. He had to move. He needed to move. He felt for his sword, but he couldn't find it. The webbing that had gripped him has slid off his sword and gauntlet. Briefly, he tried to yank out the sword from the webbing, but he didn't have the time.

He noticed that the Dark Elf was busy gloating, chittering to Iseldis in her wicked voice that carried like a foul smell. Roland gave a quiet growl, growing not only tired physically but emotionally. He had never felt such an urge to end something else's life before. If he could take her out, he knew that the world would be better for it, and more importantly, Iseldis could be saved. Roland surged to his feet.

Savagely, quickly, Roland rushed at the witch. So busy was she in her monologue of torture that she didn't notice until he was already on top of her. Her spider-like legs gave her an advantage, and so he attacked her humanoid body. "You think humans are frail?" he asked her as his muscled arms wrapped around her neck, squeezing the air out of it. "By Eruvar, I will break you like a twig!" He roared and squeezed tighter, his biceps bulging as she began to thrash.

It was clear she was not used to being out of control of a situation, her eyes were wild and her arachnid legs kicked and tapped upon the stone. Roland was almost hopeful that this was going to work. That he would emerge the hero, and that all would turn out well. But as she thrashed, she raised her hands and a shadow substance appeared in her hands like a dagger. With desperate strength, she stabbed his arm and he cried out, feeling the hideous shadow inside him for but a second. He let go, hitting the ground.

The Dark Elf, her windpipe now free, hacked and coughed. If Roland didn't know any better, he would have thought she was embarrassed at being so helpless, even for a moment. "You wretched maggot!" she seethed, her horrible gaze falling upon him and black lightning crackling at her finger tips. The last thing he felt before he lost consciousness was a thousand thousand shards of shadow piercing his body.
Neil atm
Neil laughed nervously, shaking his head. He picked up one of the ice cold beers and pointed at Sayeeda. "You know I usually like it when you're crazy, but don't joke about that." he told her, reclining back and taking a long swig of the brew. It burned going down in a pleasant sensation, and he gave a gasp when he was done. Indra seemed at the edge of her rope, with all of their plans coming up short. He didn't necessarily know what to do to make her feel better, but he felt the same way. Junebug's idea could never work, it...

"Wait..." he said, feeling a sense of wonderment as he plotted, realizing he had been thinking through this the wrong way. Junebug did have a good idea, even if it would have gotten them all torn into a trillion pieces and devoured by RIP beasts. He just needed to make it work. It was impossible to teleport to other systems, and it was impossible to send transmissions accurately instantaneously as well. But if they could somehow get on one of those ships without being noticed, they could hitch a ride.

"What?" Sayeeda asked, looking at him expectantly. Neil hadn't realized he had been quiet for some time. He was still doing the math in his head, calculating on if they had the right equipment, theorizing on how this would effect the RIP tide, if it would at all. It was almost as crazy to attempt what the Captain had suggested anyway, but this might make it possible to try it if they could get this to work.

Junebug snapped her fingers in front of his face, and sighed when he was still contemplating. Indra shrugged, not knowing what was wrong with him. "Neil, I am giving you an order to start talking." she said, leaning forward over the table, alcohol on her breath. "Answer me!"

Neil's mind finished processing, and he could almost hear an audible 'ding' once he realized it was possible. Neil could not contain his excitement. He suddenly grabbed Junebug by the hair and suddenly kissed her. Not giving her time to react, he looked right into her eyes. "You are a godsdamn genius, Junebug!" he exclaimed. He stood up and down the last half of his beer, giving an audible burp once he was finished.

Indra raised a hand as if she were in a classroom. "Um, excuse? What is happening right now?" she asked, somewhat taken aback but morbidly intrigued. Neil clamped the bottle back on the table. "Look, a RIP jump can't take more than a conceived, estimated amount of mass, right? So we couldn't dock on a ship, Sven owned or no, if the converter cannot take us through the RIP. So all we need to do, is to make sure we have no mass. Right?" His hands began to spin, signifying a rotating electron, though that would be lost on anyone but himself. "To do that we need an anti-gravity generator, because anti-gravity creates our own separate reality. Following me?"

He didn't wait to see if anyone was actually following him, and he continued to think out loud. "If you understand the full range of quantum mechanics, you can make anti-gravity. The tricky part is you can't observe it or you'll be entangled in the quantum field, and done in an anti-gravity machine can...create...a black hole..." he waved that away, dismissing the catastrophic possibility as if it was nothing. "But that's not going to happen. What will happen, if we transfer most of our remaining power to the generator is that it'll form a small reality where we float in real space, within the generator of Sven's ship. So it will be as if we have no mass. Goddamn I am a genius, and you are too!" he pointed at Junebug. "Gideon save me, ok we need to get started."

The following minute was spent with Neil explaining what types of scrap and lenses he would need, with Lonney filling in the blanks of Neil's techno-gibberish, though truth be told it was less techno and more Neil gibberish.

Roland had been almost too tired to acknowledge where he was or what was happening as the sweat poured down his body, but it all came rushing back in when he felt a palpable wisp of air from his right. He spun, and he bore witness to a nightmare in living form. The thing was massive, all eight legs the size of saplings, with a bulbous body that could crush a man under its weight. But it's terrible maw and its dozen, baleful eyes that pierced Roland's soul.

Hideously, it sucked in a form of webbing as it drew Iseldis toward its fanged mouth, retching shadow and heaving back its gluttonous form to further yank her closer. A part of him believed this was the end for her, and he was helpless to do anything as she would be devoured. But another part of him fought against that fear, and something deep welled within him as he grabbed his sword. Later he would realize it was her calling out his name that got his muscles to move and his heart to steel itself. For now, it seemed like the call of the Gods.

He drew his sword, and despite his fear he gave a roar, fierce and loud, but hoarse from how fatigued he was. Still, the chittering thing stopped its advance on Iseldis (after having shaken off the light shield) and regarded him with its eyes. Roland pointed straight at its eldritch face. "By Eruvar and Baelyr, I will not suffer you to live!" he cried, and the monster flinched as if struck. Roland did not hesitate. He charged forward, knowing if he didn't now, he never would. Briefly, his sword glimmered in the light of the mushrooms that had not been dulled by the creature's essence, and he stabbed forward, piercing the thing's thorax.

Screeching, the thing shot a web at Roland, taking him by the arm and flinging him at the mushroom behind him. He hit the trunk hard, knocking the wind out of his body and dazing him, his mind ablur with images of his training. He couldn't die now...it was getting closer...
The terrain was even more desolate and harsh than the other areas of Morrowind Dax had the misfortune to travel through. No wonder the Dumner needed slaves. No workers would immigrate here willingly. Then again, he supposed Blackmarsh was almost as inhospitable to most landstriders. One of the Dark Elves up front smacked Dax on the back of the head, grinning fearsomely. "Behold, beast! The city of the House of Redoran! The greatest warriors in all of Morrowind dwell here. You will enjoy your stay."

As the cart bumped along, they passed another slave cart going the opposite direction through the south road. A figure obscured by a cloak was awakened by the carriage's jostle, and one of his fellow slaves remarked. "Hey, you're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Aldmeri ambush, same as us, and that thief over there. Damn these Dunmner!" The rest of the conversation faded into the background as Kris and Dax were drawn through the gates.

Inside, the scene shifted abruptly. Harsh ash and rock turned into beautifully carved architecture, with straight lines and lush, bulging curves to grant space for windows or archways through doors and the like. There must have been some sorcerous trick to keep the ash from falling into the city, because while it did have a blemish here or there, it was far too clean for its proximity to the mountain of fire. The gate fed into a storefront, and the pair were led by an officer to continue on for a block. Within the cobblestone street, Dunmner citizens and workers stepped out of the way as the wagon they had just hopped off progressed. A child clutched her mother along the left side of the street, but there was mostly men out and about.

Kris led Daixanos forward, the Argonian moving obediently, still remaining submissive in manner as they waded further into streets until Kris found the turn she had been looking for. A compound rose out of the building pattern like a boulder among rocks, and guardsmen argued vehemently within, even through the windows it was evident as they shook their fists and ordered one another about. No wonder the child had been frightened earlier. Turning the corner, there was a small alley where a compartmented corner connected to the backdoor of the compound, where Vorn likely was. Dax's tail fidgeted excitedly as they slowed to a stop. "Give me my axe and let us finish this." He said to her, his voice low.

He would rather burn the place down rather than searching for Vorn. If they simply burned it down, Vorn would likely be dead. But he could respect her wishing to be certain he perished, and once the Argonian felt the haft of his axe, there was a palpable feeling of trepidation in the air. Dax would stay behind her, at least initially. Seeing an Argonian armed, they would attack him without delay, but they might have a slower reaction to seeing her.

"Let us say hello." Kris said.
In the corner of the dungeon, the other men clung to the corners of the stone walls, whispering and eyeing Cyrdic as if he was a Daemon. Cyrdic did not know if they were right. He could smell the hint of presperation on their skin, and the heightened heartbeats within their breasts pounded against his body in light waves. It was unremitting, and yet he could not remember being without such sensations.

The only inmate that gave no exception to him was an elderly man, lanky of limb and gaunt from age. Both eyes had been taken from him, as had many of his teeth. He muttered so silently that even Cyrdic had a difficult time deciphering his words. He twitched and giggled, spouting strings or Brettonian litanies when he was not catatonic or asleep. Cyrdic was not convinced he wasn't an hallucination in his own head.

As the sun rose in the east, Cyrdic blinked as he felt a tingle in his sinuses. Something tugged at him, be it within his physical senses or something more etheral, but he knew something was occurring that tore at him like hunger in a starving body. Suddenly the elder awoke from his stupor, and laughed. He laughed madly and uproariously, so loud that his thin chest looked as if it would throw his back out and burst. Even through such insanity, Cyrdic heard the din of battle in the distance. He had been in too many battles to mistake the sounds.

His manacles were suddenly broken. Had he broken them? Yes, he had. The tingling in his wrists had shown him. But now the cell was open, and the stairways leading out of the dungeon were flying past his vision as he moved with a swift, loping gait that carried him past the guardsmen in a flurry of muscle and power, sending him headlong out the door and past the screaming Lord D'Elbiq to where Ulric demanded his presence...

Renard was a beacon amid the mist, his body glowing like a lantern of divine might. No undead seemed to stand against him, skeletons and ghouls being cloven in two by his cross-hilted arming sword of bluish energy. But even his light was blotted out as the horde of abberations smashed into the lines of Camilla's makeshift strike force. Men and zombies hit one another like water rushing through the opening of a floodgate.

The soft, wet grass beneath them was now even slicker with blood and marrow as the battle commenced. In the distance, a horse whinnied in fright. Camilla's elvish sword rang like a lullaby, inspiring the men around her almost as brightly as Renard's glowing form. The broken monastary they fought around was fully engulfed in the battle. One squire-sergeant held a dozen men of similar equipment and rank within the crumbling stonework as yeomen fired from behind their shields with fiery arrows drenched in oil.

Camilla was nearly run down by a confused group of Knights, thinking every thing that was in their path was undead, so thick was the enemy horde. One of the knights was torn from his horse by a billhook wielded by an armored wight. Camilla hacked and cleaved, pivoting like a dancer amid the chaos while men fought and died around her. In the distance, she heard a howl in the din of battle.

A howl...
The sergeant seemed unsatisfied, but he also wasn't about to stick someone who brought back in one of the slaves. The other dunmer in the room looked intently on Kris and Dax until their sergeant gave them a dismissive gesture. For his part, Dax kept his head down and his breathing soft, though he did make a few agitated noises. One would think they were made by an injured slave when in fact the entire ploy was grating on him, but other than that he never broke character.

Kris pushed Dax none too gently. "Go into the corner, dog." she said, and he complied as she and the other Dunmer began to discuss the prices on his head.

He checked his bondages one last time, gently tugging to make sure they were still loose in case one of the Dunmer got any ideas. Luckily, after the minutes of discussion had gone by, nothing seemed to amiss. Though that had him on edge too. Plans often went awry after you assumed they were going to go well.

Kris thanked the sergeant, who didn't seem overly welcoming but he gave her a grunt in acknowledgement and sent her on her way. She had recieved word one of their guard wagons was about to head into the settlement, lightly guarded and loaded to carry back supplies to the station later that day. Whatever they were going to do, they had better do it quickly. Dax was here for a distraction for his kinsman, not this Vorn, even if he would shed no tears for the traitor's death.

Within a minute, Kris was prodding him into the wagon outside amid the ruins. Dax complied without complaint, and he gave her a look when he turned to sit.
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