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

Status

Recent Statuses

4 days ago
Current Oh, Im gonna be tired all day, aren't I?
7 likes
8 days ago
You know since I am in the mood to make more of my invented languages, I should capitalize on that.
1 like
8 days ago
Why would we make more
3 likes
9 days ago
Damn, talk about going out for a pack of smokes
2 likes
12 days ago
*something clever*
6 likes

Bio






About Me








Name: Ben
Username: The one and only. Dare I say?
Age: 29
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 2 years, but it's growing!
  • I'm the host of a Science Fiction & Fantasy Podcast where I interview authors of the genre.




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 makes it challenging)
  • 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 love many, many fictional universes so me trying to list them all is an effort in futility!






Me

Most Recent Posts

New Orleans-style has some big historical feel, but I wouldn't mind Charleston-like.
<Snipped quote by POOHEAD189>

Indeed I was, Mr. I Don't Take Orders From Orc Maggots.


Well I had to be cheeky in some way
@POOHEAD189

You need to list all your debts, though you don't have to decide who they are too just yet. At least one of your debts should be to another player, though more than that is also fine. You can also use your debts to create npcs in the city.


I'll add the last two ASAP then^^

@rush99999 You were right, bud. My B!
You forgot to list your other two debts.







I thought I could just have one. I'll let Penny decide, since she previously said he was accepted.
You know, that's not a bad name
Markus felt a bit sore on his backside, and a sense of vertigo had washed over him for a brief moment until he got his bearings. The telltale clinking of gold had halted, save for when he moved his hand, sending a small avalanche of coins tumbling down the veritable hill of gold that had accumulated in his cabin. It filled almost the entirety of his floor, covering his desk and even shoving into the underside of his cot. Markus rubbed his head, blinking as he adjusted. The sun was now almost fully lowered in the sky, so he gathered himself up and went to reignite the oil lamp beside the door.

As the flame kindled, he heard a groan behind him. Emmaline, stark naked atop the pile of gold, looked slightly hurt but very much healthy and alive. Beside her on the ground was the brass lamp, as still as if there was naught in it but air. Markus idly locked the door behind him so there were no more interruptions, and he knelt down beside Emmaline to check the small scratches on her lush form.

"I didn't think he would harm you, I'm sorry." He told her, sliding his callused hand softly over her stomach and up her chest. The captain looked past her at the very siezable treasure they had and snorted. "I think this is payment enough though, don't you?"

He produced her sapphire necklace out of his cloak fold and gently slid it over her head to hand about her slender neck. "Let's stay in the ship for the time being, ay?" He said, and then gave a wicked smile as his hand cupped her chin. "I wonder how we'll pass the time..."
There was pounding on the door behind them. A dim voice called questioningly, and another, louder bang was heard. Markus cursed, though he knew he should count himself lucky that the princess had locked the door behind them. That, and Emmaline seemed to be back to her old self. Once they got out of this mess, he'd give the witch her the necklace back, he reminded himself.

The blades flashed in the lamplight, sending shadows and light spiraling across the chamber. It was briefly halted by Emmaline's launching of various peices of furniture. The first one Mavikim ducked under, which meant it was flying at Markus. The pirate leaped out of its path just in time before it shattered into the ground. "Hey-!" He tried to call at Emmaline, but he was too busy to continue as she continued to throw various objects as he waded in and out of combat. His boot audibly scraped along the ground after another lunge by Mavikim, who was beginning to look a bit more desperate. He had the look of one that wasn't used to not being in complete control of the situation. How did that work for his Eunuch outside? Markus thought wryly.

Meanwhile, the Arabyan woman had slunk away from Emmaline's position, eyes still intent on the lamp. The action of the two men fighting had kept even the asp's attention from her, though it seemed Mavikim was acutely aware of her position. Abruptly, Mavikim made a wild sweep of his curved blade, swiping across Markus's guard. It was a bit less skilled than his previous attacks. Had Markus been a lesser swordsman, he wouldn't have been able to recover so quickly, but Mavikim's intentions became evidently clear once he made a dive passed Markus, grabbing for the lamp within the coils of the adder. Jahazra screamed in denial and scrambled for it as well.

Markus lashed out with his knee, crashing into the diving Mavikim's chest like a hammer. It stung the pirate, but it sent the Arabyan Pasha flying off course into a rough tumble along the hard floor. The asp hissed, but halted once it felt its lengthy body losing the item it had been wrapped about from a sudden lift and a shake. The Princess had more confidence than she had before, it seemed. Like a child yanking a toy out of their younger sibling's hands, she let the snake fall to the floor and held aloft the small brass item, giddy as could be. In fact, she looked positively wicked in the fiery light, cackling.

"Yes!" She cried, raising the thing high into the air above her. Markus had to admit the light and the sudden nefarious turn to the once demure woman was fairly alluring in a way. She smiled wickedly, rubbing the faded brass along its side with her diminutive palm. "The power is mine! The power of the dreaded Djinn that only sultan's wield! Mightly Djinn, kill all in the room save me and make me the Pasha of this land! Do my bidding under Allah!"

The pronouncement sent echoes across the room, and Mavikim looked utterly defeated; horrified even.

But after the seconds passed, it eventually became clear that nothing had happened. The asp flicked its tongue in annoyance and slithered lazily over to Emmaline as Markus sheathed his backsword. The tension and fear mounting in the princess, who now realized she had shown her true colors, was palpable. Markus smiled with a smug expression, letting it slowly sink in that she held a small pot, rather than a lamp.

"This must be embarrassing for you," Markus tsked, shaking his head and drawing out a brass lamp from the folds of his cloak. Emmaline cackled in surprise whilst the Princess's jaw dropped. The pirate chortled, unable to halt his amusement at the two Arabyans utter defeat. "You know, I wasn't entirely certain how to use this thing. I figured I'd wait and let things play out, so I did a small switch. Thanks for letting me know that you need to rub it..."

With a wicked smile, he did so.

An unseen force popped the top off of the lamp like it had been flicked derisively. Despite his bravado, Markus was a supersitious man. He did his best to hold his dignity in check once the swirling torrent of smoke and flame leaped out of the small brass lamp like a Tilean Typhoon! Up and up it went, gathering in size and splendor, filling the very top of the large bedchamber with its girth as the storm coalesced into a being the shape of a herculean man. Markus blinked, not entirely knowing what to expect. A part of him thought it was a daemon of the north, but Emmaline didn't seem frightened, only enraptured by the sight. The thing's skin was the color of blood and coal, depending on where the light hit it. Bangles were clutched to his forearms, and its beard and hair were braided and long. Its blazing eyes gazed about the room, emitting a deep rumble from its belly that erupted into a full blown laugh.

"So!" It said, its voice echoing with immense authority. It pierced the very mind and commanded obedience, though Markus knew it was a ruse. The pirate was not the slave here, so he raised his head high as the Djinn spoke. "My master and that woman whom I stole have been degraded! I have waited many years for such a sight. Who is it that summons me to such a treat?" It demanded, glinting with lusty interest at Emmaline until it followed the path of the smoke to Markus.

"Great Djinn!" He cried to it. "I have heard tale you do the bidding of any who hold your lamp! But I do not wish to enslave someone so great as you. Let us parlay, mighty one!"

"Parley?" The Djinn remarked, thinking. Its massive hand, somehow both gaseous and solid all at once, stroked its wispy beard. Markus gave another wink at Emmaline. "What would you wish of me, northern one?"

"I wish you send both me and Emmaline Von Morganstern back to our ship with all of the gold in this palace!" He cried, and an evil smile spread across his face. "But I do not desire for you to be without compensation, as your previous master had so rightly denied you! Do that, and I shall allow you to acquire both the pasha and the princess as your own slaves! To help you pass the time in your millennia of bondage."
"It is the Pasha's orders." Markus declared, face once again wrapped within the strange Arabyan helm.

The two guards, less armed and less large than the elite men outside, glanced at one another. Despite being of a lesser variant in height, they clearly were (to your average man) dangerous by the way they held themselves. The two eyed the Princess that stood before them, the lithe woman attempting to appear both subservient yet brusque in manner, at least as far as she could. She had spoken to Markus only briefly; too soon to gauge on whether he was a threat. She had to admit if he wanted her dead he could have done it far earlier, and likely to greater benefit unless there were strange circumstances about.

"Hurry and move, slave." She snapped at them, drawing both ire and confusion from how she spoke. "My love had ordered me to come and see him. Yes, I know of the foreign whore, but I still do as he bids, as you do. Hurry or your lives will be forfeit!"

He knew she was a native to the land, but Markus wished he sounded as fluent as she did. He saw their will collapsing, breathing easier once he realized they were about to let them in. Until they heard a muffled yelp and a frustrated cry through the oak and brass door, and not that of a woman. Markus couldn't help but smile at that. Only Emmaline could make a man sound like that, which meant she was still alive!

The moment passed and the two guards turned, Markus grabbing the Princess's forearm so she didn't do anything rash. He watched as the left mamluk fumbled for the leather thong around his neck where the doorkey lay. Hastily the guards went to opening the door, pushing against the heavy material and swinging it in to reveal the situation in the room. A fit, dark man wielding a sword searched high and low for something no one could guess whilst a naked Emmaline was bound and strapped across the room, a long cut and a few bruises on her fair skin. The Princess gasped, but Markus elbowed past her and ran the first guard through whilst his back was turned, his backsword blade erupting out of the man's chest. He didn't hesitate, yanking it out and slashing the next guard across the face as he turned, sending him screaming onto the floor of the room.

Markus pulled the Princess along, telling her to close the door behind them in harsh Arabyan as he saw Mavikim finally noticing them, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Jahazra?" He asked incredulously, blinking. He seemed almost too amused to be mad, but there was indeed a simmering rage beneath his visage. "You dare betray me? Is this your pathetic attempt at a coup?" The pasha held his sword in the practiced stance of a dervish, glaring at the Princess in a way that promised a slow and painful death. She shrank back behind Markus, who remained unmoved save for the quick downward thrust that ended the door guard's life.

"No, it's mine." Markus said in Reikspiel, pulling down the scarf to reveal his suntanned but clearly unArabyan face. He gave Emmaline a wink, and despite her injuries she seemed ecstatic at his sudden arrival. The look on Mavikim's face was priceless, though it was nothing compared to the look he gained when an asp slithered along the floor just before Markus's feet, an old brass lamp in the coils of its tail. Both swordsman glanced down, and then at one another.

"Jahazra," The Captain told the woman, eyes never leaving the dark man that approached. "Free my lover while I kill the pasha."

That was what set the scene in motion. Mavikim suddenly leaped with impressive grace just as Markus bent down to scoop up the oil lamp with his offhand. Mavikim thought to halt the move, but Markus merely rolled out of the way, Mavikim's scimitar slamming into the smooth floor with a 'clang!' The Captain rose up from a new position and grinned, raising his backsword up in a block from Mavikim's next attack that sent sparks flying.
My vote is either for Chicago or an unnamed custom city.
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