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Recent Statuses

18 hrs ago
Current You know you're obsessed with fight choreography and martial arts when you recognize a move in John Wick 3 that they also used in the Matrix.
24 hrs ago
I'm pretty happy with mu bio. Though I am afraid people will get epilepsy from the first two DBZ gifs and won't continue to scroll down...
2 days ago
Yet the humans were able to evade your ships, land on the Sacred Ring, and desecrate it with their filthy footsteps!
6 days ago
I will be updating my RPs tonight!
1 like
12 days ago
"Colorado school shooting turns deadly." ... I dont think this news program understands the subtleties of gun violence.


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

I said my post would be up soon but it's been 6 days...

"Your life sounds very much like a Detlef Sierck Melodrama if I am being completely honest, only...far more violent than he would usually write. Even your noble beauty seems to kill droves of beastmen and chaos worshippers." Hermman the Wizard said, smoking his pipe under a gnarled tree as the fire crackled before him, lengthening the shadows of his studied face.

Cyrdic grunted, not blaming the man for finding his past adventures hard to believe. He sounded ridiculous to himself when he spoke it aloud. But he also could not help but grin at Hermman's comment on Camilla. "Just because she is a beautiful woman does not mean she isn't dangerous." he said to him, biting into the venison sausage.

The deer they'd hunted had by Brettonian law belonged to Baron D'Elbiq. But he was apparently too busy fueding with Baron Du Maisne and fighting the occasional Derelich that inhabited the rare ruin around the abandoned holdfasts of ancient Aquitaine. Cyrdic had always liked Venison more than most meats. He knew how to follow as much as lead, but he couldn't understand a land where even the animals belonged to the gentry.

"In my experience my boy, most beautiful women are." Hermman replied, giving a ghost of a smile as if remembering a painful but fond memory.

Cyrdic was too focused on his meal, even taking the bits of it that had bone in it. The cracking of the bone with his teeth was satisfying, even pleasurable. He suddenly found bone marrow almost as appetizing as the meat itself, and his ravenous hunger was untenable. Hermman was lost in thought for a few moments too long, and he would curse himself a moment later when a sword glinted in the firelight, the point of it reaching the Wizard's slim neck.

"You are under arrest for trespassing on the Baron's road," a man said in broken Reikspiel. It seemed whoeever spoke it could already tell they were foreigners. "and poaching upon his land."

A powerful man with an even more impressive mustache stepped out of the woods, hood over his head. More Yeomen stepped out of the woods, and Cyrdic was more appalled at himself being too hungry to even smell their obvious scent than surprised they were there, or in fear of his life. Hermman lowered his pipe, smiling guiltily. "Well, Captain, what is to be our punishment. I know the Constable of Bordeleaux, you know. If you hang me or my ward, he will see to it y-"

"Silence, knave. Or are you a warlock? The Baron D'Elbiq will decide your fate at the Castle."

Hermman sighed, and looked at Cyrdic apologetically. "Well my boy, at least we'll be sleeping indoors tonight."

Aldaerion's gaze pierced leaf and bark, traveling over the low hills of Aquitaine with sight beyond what any human could experience. The armored apes of the land, in their primitive and brutish ways did safeguard it better than most denizens of Athel Loren would admit. Beastman and Orc would ravage the land, but would be thrown back time and again over the course of many human lifetimes, and even the span of a few Elven ones. But this was different.

The power rising in the forest of Chalons was an old one. One that the Asrai had not seen for a long time. They would weather out the storm within Athel Loren, but as for the humans of Brettonia? Perhaps they would prevail again. But the Waywatcher doubted it. Aldaerion had seen the power of lone necromancers before, when they soiled the ancient cairns of the Wood Elves.

What could one of such ancient power wield, in a land rife with feuds and ancient dead?

It was all he could do to keep the Draugr's claws from trying to tear chunks off of him. His armor would protect him from the brunt of it, but time wasn't on his side. The harsh, guttural screeching of the undead thing filled Roland's ear, and he growled back, his eyes moving from the horrid zombified corpse to Iseldis in an even worse situation.

With the strength of desperation, he shoved into the Draugr again, snapping one of its legs and causing its body to lurch over the table, spilling letters and an unlit candle onto the floor. His fingers closed tighter around the hilt of his blade, and stepping back, with the Draugr retching at him as it nearly tumbled off the table, he hacked into its chest. The blade hit gnarled flesh and bone, and he had to hack at the thing another time to sever the spinal cord and run through the ribcage.

It collapsed into a heap, its head still screeching, albeit more quietly as the blue grew dimmer in its eyes. Roland wasn't sure if it was dying or simply weakened. He didn't give it much thought, instead rushing toward his partner to give aid. He hadn't known her for much more than a conversation, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to keep her alive. The Forged had a code of honor as every other Order did, and he'd see it upheld.

He wished he could slay the thing in one fell sweep, but she was too tightly locked with the monster. He dropped his shield and half-sworded, holding onto the blade near the halfway point with his offhand, and he cut into the thing's arm, severing it. Unfortunately, the hand that had enclosed around Iseldis' throat still squeezed of its own accord, and the Draugr, now free, struck Roland in the face, cutting his cheek and sending him staggering.

It was by instinct that he lashed out with his blade, cracking its left knee and sending it falling onto its face. He didn't question good fortune, and stabbed downward into its skull, cracking the bone but not quite getting his swordpoint through onto the floor. The creature died all the same, the light fading from its eyes, and the bony hand that held Isaeldis' neck let go, falling to the floor limply.

Roland breathed heavily, reaching up to wipe the blood pouring down his cheek with his forearm. "Are you ok?" he asked her, feeling the warmth of the liquid drip down his neck a bit.
@Elite Gamer You didn't. It was just a reminder just in case. There is no penalty or official warning. All good :)
Remember everyone, always fade to black in smut unless it's through PM. Thank you!
I think I'll soon give you guys something to do other than talk, since the others have been out awhile. But for now, I think introducing yourself to Pezz's character after making your way back into the tavern is good.
The Stone Giant, for that indeed is what it was, gazed at the newcomers with pupil-less eyes. They looked almost like perfectly carved orbs of soft stone, a lighter shade of brown than the rest of his body, where there was no grey at least. It flexed its hands, and took a slow step forward. The rock that had been crowded about its feet crumbled lightly, as if it had been dirt that had clung to the Giant's skin.

Argon's roar was abruptly cut off by Ann-Hasst and Alice's call for silence, and he seemed like an alligator basking in the sun with his mouth open and no sound escaping his gaping maw. However, his eyes looked more like a dog's when you grabbed its mouth and held it shut, wide open and curious as to why you were making him be quiet.

"Trespassers?" The Giant said, slowly. As if it weighed ever syllable. Its voice was as heavy as a fallen tombstone, or an ancient stone door slamming shut. Every word had a finality to it that was jarring to the ear. "You are not welcome here, but you may go in peace." Its words slowed when he heard another of their band had ventured forth further in. Blinking, it grumbled, its throat sounding like the grinding of rocks. It squared its slab of a jaw.

"The others will not like having their game interrupted." it said. It breathed through its nose, and dust billowed out of its nostrils. "My kinsmen take great pride in their game of... Hide and Seek."

Despite himself, Beren smiled. He had a boyish charm, even with his broad shoulders and warrior physique. He often spoke in a casual manner, but he had tried to speak in the scholar's way when this pretty lass approached to appear official. If nothing else, he felt somewhat responsible for this fortified hamlet of a town. But her manner of speech... she reminded him of how the Dwarven women spoke back at Thundrim Kadrin, and it was actually very endearing to him. That, and he'd be a fool to not think she was dangerously cute.

"I think we can help you with that," he said, referring to the whiskey. "Right lads?" His powerful voice carried to the guards who had been, as of moments ago, standing nervously with their spears pointed her way just in case. They jumped at the sound of his voice, nodding.

"Aye, we can fetch some." the one on the left said.

"Right, I think ol' Bolger has some in his cupboard back at the tavern, right?"

"Thanks, fellas. I-" Beren began glancing back, before it was his turn to jump. A slim Elf of Dorcha blood poked her head out from behind Beren's statuesque frame, eyeing the woman a few paces behind. It was clear she was a bit tipsy, but that didn't give the caramel-skinned monk pause. It was the fact the newcomer would see a Dark Elf out in the open sun without warning. To most people that wouldn't be normal. But perhaps she would be tempered by a priest guiding her, looking comically serious, and a Dwarf standing among the background, acting as if all was good.

Well...Geradin didn't seem pleased, but most Dwarves had a grim way about them. Beren was thanking the EverGod when he saw their oldest group member. "Ursaren!" he called to him, waving him over. The 'bear' of a man and the other oddities in the party probably lowered the sense of strangeness Aeryn's heritage might bring. "Come here!" Beren stepped halfway to him, meeting him in the middle and whispering to him.

"You think you can whip up some herbs to help with any hangover some might have later?" he said softly, inclining his head toward Aeryn and the new girl.

Within a minute, they'd find themselves in the tavern again, though with less people. It seemed the amount of commotion was too much for one day. They decided to go find shade in a room not lit by candles. Luckily there was plenty of aircooled water within. Beren saw fit to grab a few pitchers of it for them all. He made sure to get the two ladies extra large pitchers (along with whatever they would order from the bar keep). Aeryn needed water from drinking and Lynn obviously would from having traveled through the tropical jungle for however long.

At the center of the quaint tavern, there was a larger round table that could seat the lot of them.
@IcePezz@BCTheEntity@Stormflyx@Fetzen@Mortarion@Gardevoiran@The Fated Fallen
Hello! You've probably seen my around the forum, mostly moderating or GM a few larger RPs. I generally don't reach out for people for a 1x1 but I decided to make this interest check. Now, before I give the big premise, I want to say that I am quite picky, because my time is limited these days. I'm working a regular job, and also working on many numerous projects, one of them being a very new author. So, just know that if you contact me on this, and I am not satisfied on your efforts/posting style/ or I just don't think our characters will mesh well together, then it is nothing personal but I'll need to end it. I hate disappointing people but I will likely be very picky. Also, there will be dark themes, there will be plenty of backstabbing and warfare, and though it is a low fantasy setting, I expect there to be fell magic and horrible beasts at some point.

Abra-Romali: City of Princes

The Northern Realm is at war, with many great nations at one another's throats. Each seeks to gain power through violence, or religious support from the Archdeacon of Rumei. Meanwhile, the Kingdom of Volasi, the one Kingdom separating the Northern realm from the advancing southern Osmanli Empire, has been partitioned and quartered off into smaller Duchies, Baronies, and Counties. The Kingdom of Romali, the last true heirs to the wider Kingdom of Volasi, has suddenly lost its King, and his successor now rides from border skirmishes back to the capital, to take defend his claim to the throne. As the Baron's and Duke's gather, your character joins them, and is an unlikely ally to the Prince.

Note: This will be a low fantasy setting with 15th century tech.

@IcePezz hello!
Early the next morning, Cyrdic and Hermman rode out of Clermount, the Ostlander reluctantly riding the only other horse in the hamlet, given to him by a farmer that owed Hermman a debt of unknown importance. Cyrdic would have gladly let the man keep his steed, but Hermman had insisted. The man said he might have a way to find out just what was happening with Cyrdic's body, but they needed to make it to Bordeleaux where the mage had a few friends he could call favors on. Cyrdic had wanted to thank him, but the mercenary had a feeling the man's curiosity and desire to 'dissect' Cyrdic's state was enough reward. He wished he had his sword with him. Even if the man had not been threatening to him, he'd rather have a familiar blade near him just in case.

As they rode through the mud laden path, the small wood opened up into the wide, beautiful countryside of Aquitaine. Many who lived here felt the rolling hills of arable land boring, but Cyrdic could still appreciate it. He wished he could say the same for himself. He had cut his hair in the Imperial, soldierly fashion. Close cropped and professional, keeping a small goatee on his chin and upper lip, but somehow he still felt too hairy, and his blazing golden eyes unnerved him. What's more, his memories continued to creep back into his head.

He had murdered the Baron D'Epee and had assaulted his squire. He couldn't remember why. The thought still egged him, and the harder he tried to remember, the more elusive the memory. He felt it took all of his power to recall who he was as a person, much less his recent reasoning for violence. He needed to concentrate.

He enjoyed hard liquor and the occasional wry joke. He would rather earn his money by plying his trade than have it be handed to him, and not just because he still enjoyed fighting and war a bit more than he should. He disliked riding horses and speaking to Lordly company, and to soldiers he knew how to lead charismatically, and by example. He remembered helping his father in the fields when he was a boy, and enjoyed listening to the soft tunes of his mother as he drifted off to sleep.

He remembered all too well the bloodlust he felt in combat, and his days training in the Ostland army. He remembered rescuing Camilla and his exile, and he remembered the dangers they faced. One after another. The faces of the companions they had gained and lost. He also remembered falling in love with her, and she with him. The nights of passion mixed with the heated yet obviously heart-felt arguments they would have, and the cute way her lips snarled when she hacked apart the brain of a beastman or told off an arrogant Lord, and her skill as an actress that boggled his mind.

He missed her. But it was for the best she was Ulric-knows-where, probably thousands of miles from here. He couldn't trust himself anymore. Even now he could feel the wolf that had taken over his body lurking at the edges of his consciousness, as if waiting for his mind to be caught off guard to then pounce and do violence once again. Even when he had inhaled the entire chicken Remy had given him, he could barely contain his hunger. She was better off without him.

"How far is Bordeleaux?" Cyrdic asked the wizard.

"Fret not my bestial friend. We'll make for the River Morceaux and then the forest of Chalons. After that we'll make for the western road." he replied. "Have you ever had the wine of the Morceaux valley? Said to be the most delectable in the world."

"Tremendous." Cyrdic remarked, using the nuance of the word Camilla had taught him. It had baffled him that even though he had learned to read and write, there were still extra layers in Reikspeil to speak properly. He would never understand the pomp.

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