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About Milke

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    New York
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    Roleplaying and story crafting mostly. Also music!
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  1. Thanks for taking an interest in my insanity writing yo I appreciate that.

    Once  my Star Forge gets constructed crazyness is gonna go down yo its how we roll!

    I'm trying to see how fast I can crunch out a 100+ post monster thread entirely on my own hahah.

    YES I have too much time on my hands but at least I am using it well.

    Thanks for passing by my corner of V and showing an interest, totally appreciated!

    1. Milke


      Hell yeah bro! Don't even mention it!

  2. Owen begins to sport an uncharacteristically sheepish expression, as Gwen takes notice of the disticnt absence of a bear pelt in his possession. The mountaineer pushes his forefingers together and casts his gaze aside in embarrassment. "H-Heh, funny you should mention that. Y'see...I didn't actually kill the bear miss." The lad reaches out and gently secures the small bag from the bar maid, taking a strap from the pack on his back and tying the hare-filled pouch to his person. "I beat 'em real good, sure. Ran him off too! However, killing that poor beast? I just couldn't bring myself to do it." With a curt nod and timid smile he waves her off as Gwen goes to tend to more pertinent matters, serving food and drink. The surprisingly softhearted mountain man thanks her for rewarding his efforts. "Ignatz? Ne'er heard of that place...maybe that'd be a good place to look?" Owen murmurs underneath his breath before shuffling off to find a seat. He starts to ponder his next venture before the talk of his homelands catches his ear. Genesaris? How good it is to hear a familiar name so far from home!
  3. After a rousing round of adversity and adventure, the partially painted face of Owen Sloan peeks back in through the tavern doors. The mountaineer who'd set out to settle the small matter of a wild and unruly bear has returned alive, all his limbs intact too! It would seem all he's got to show for his encounter are the three streaks cutting across the leather chest piece of his armor. All things considered the intrepid and bravely foolhardy boy's returned relatively unscathed. Without missing a beat, Owen struts right up to the counter and calls out; "Ello? I just wanted to let whoever was looking to have the matter of the bear handled know, your request has been handled friend! Folks can travel with a lil' more piece of mind now." @Csl
  4. @vielle Owen pushes his chest out so Pervarus can easily access the wound obscured behind his tanned hide armor, sighing as his wound starts to seal with a single motion of his companion's staff. Nice! Now he'll just need to find someone to sew the parted pieces of his leathers back together, if he'd be so inclined. He thinks the scratches add a little character to the drab, brown armor. He nods back to other man before looking towards Elora, nodding to answer her question. "Aye! There's a tavern just a lil' ways away. That's where oul' Pervarus and I met up, before settin' out to handle that bear. 'Tis a fair and friendly little tap. Missy Gwen would be mighty touched to have ya--I'm certain! You can crash there until you get yer bearings again, I'm already staying there meself." Reassuringly, he gently slaps his palm against the elf's back. "Chin up, Elora dear. You'll get back on your feet eventually." Owen starts marching, intent on leading the way back to the tavern from which they came. His part fulfilled, the boy tosses his branch aside into the underbrush now that he's no longer got a need for it. The inscribing stone is in turn stuffed back into his travel bag. "Another successful hunt I'd say! Just hope they don't give me stink for not offin' the beast, h-heh." He scratches his cheek, before casually resting his hands behind his head as he walks.
  5. @vielle Owen softly snickers as he takes the Elven woman's hand, carefully helping her out from the spot in which she'd previously been hiding. No, he's not very bear-like it would seem, the poor traveler wasn't going to be troubled any longer. "Aye! Don't worry 'bout that devilish beastie none. Pervarus o'er there and I ran it off, hopefully for a good long while." With a jerk of his head he gestures to the kindly giant, apparently oblivious to the musing whispers of his invaluable companion. His smile is as bright as ever, even as he looks over the poor woman's wound. "Hmmm, still wouldn't hurt to get this taken care of miss. Mind telling us your name? Mine's is Owen, Owen Sloan." He'd help her up, doting delicately over the injured area of her arm. Owen's movements are gradual and gentle, trying to alleviate the elf's nerves. Though his efforts are given some pause when she points out the slashes in his armored leathers. His gaze flicks downwards to the tears streaking across the tough fabric, all the while he aids the unnamed camper over to Pervarus. "This? Nah, 'tis ain't nothing!" He takes a single hand and digs his fingers into one of the gashes, feeling out the full extent of the damage to his gear. "Methinks the beast's blades only bludgeoned me there, don't feel any--AH!" One sharp wince later and Owen's pulling a gloved hand back out of the divot left by the claw's wake. The tip of a single finger is decorated by the smallest trickle of crimson. Owen frowns a tad, still trying to tough it out. "O-Oh! Err--maybe he did just knick my skin...that's all fine and dandy. Me leathers are thick; it's probably not even a flesh wound! Let's get you fixed up and back to safety, miss." The lad's jollity and optimism return in droves as he flashes a closed-eyes smile to Pervarus. "I think 'm just lucky that beastie didn't dig any deeper!"
  6. @vielle As Owen sits with a slightly pained wince spread across his face, his sanguine and cheery smile turns into a frown at Pervarus' words. Not for any confusion or wavering on part of his stark optimism and gentle nature, but moreso out of distressed befuddlement. The mountaineer is no stranger to hunting, gathering, skinning and tanning animals. However, something about simply killing this beastie doesn't sit well with the lad. "It is right there, ready to be killed for its fur pelts..." No. To kill for such petty gain, to take not for necessity but out of pure want or retribution. That's not the way the boy was raised; thusly, Owen shakes his head at Pervarus' inquiry, the mighty hunter fancying himself a merciful sort. "Where I'm from, humankind is an extension of nature, just like the birds of the air and the beasts of the woods." The boy starts to sit up despite the discomfort in his chest, a hefty sigh heaving from the very depths of his being. "As generous as the offer is fella, I cannae kill this bear nor would I wanna take credit for takin' its life. The bear is my brother and I his. Just like I'd trust a person to take their lickin' and run, I trust this beastie too. Even if he did knick me somethin' nasty! I believe the bear has purpose for acting out like this, animals ain't exactly malicious." His peppy smile and demeanor returns full force as he looks off the whimpered cries beneath the crag. "I'm sure you understand my reasoning better than most. Killing...it can be needless sometimes. So, please let 'em go? If this one ain't learned 'er lesson I'll foot the bill for its damages, come back, then whip 'em into shape myself!" He declares, beaming up at Pervarus with a thumb pointed right into his chest. "There's an old mountainkin proverb; "An eye-for-an-eye leaves the whole world blind", y'see? Maybe it's just my soft heart playin' at me..." "In any case, there's something important we gotta take care of." Owen brushes himself off, canting his head aside as he notices three claw marks going down and across his armor. Seems his brief encounter was little closer than he'd thought! Nevertheless the optimistic lad shrugs this off and starts heading towards whatever poor soul was hiding away from the bear. He peeks underneath the crag with a warm smile, hand offered forwards into the dark. "Hello? Don't worry, you're safe now." It appears Owen likes to prioritize helping others. "Are you hurt? I have a friend who might be able to help if you are."
  7. @vielle "Finish it off!" Those three words echo in the young man's mind, bringing a sudden lucidity and calm to his actions in the heated midst of Pervarus' inclination. The beating of one's heart could sometimes become the loudest sound, rocketing off from within the chest and hammering directly into the brain. A lurid rush of adrenaline, the harsh pumping off blood, hoarse and haggard breathing. Owen doesn't hesitate, it's now or never! Owen rockets off the forest floor in a burst of speed, flourishing the branch at his side as he rushes down the raging flurry of fur and muscle! There! The scar on its snout, perhaps a wound from prior territorial disputes? It would certainly follow that such a towering monolith of a monster was no stranger to combat. Taking advantage of the sore point on the bear's countenance, Owen finishes his rune with deftness, dexterity, and haste! A familiar burst of cold envelops the branch mid-swing, encasing it in a layer of hardened frost before the bitter beatstick swings right into the restrained beast's scar! A resounding THWACK rings out over the trees, the bear once again given pause at the sheer shock of being repeatedly battered in quick succession. Except this time the brute got the message loud and clear, pain proving to be an excellent teaching tool. Owen's blow follows through, the momentum continuing along the arc of his swing and even drawing blood which spatters through the open air! After this, that bear hits the ground with a dull thud, not dead but gazing up and between the pair with wide eyes and frenetic energy. Although it's normally impossible to tell, perhaps these two wild men an be afforded some brief insight into the beast's state of mind; it's afraid, of them no less! The nature of its struggles against the vines has shifted; now it's doing so in a desparate bid to get itself free and flee for its life! It's breath is raspy and infrequent, guttural roars of panic filling the space above its head as Owen is kicked away! The hind paw of the bear catches his chest piece and pushes him onto his back, eliciting a meaty grunt from the boy as his back makes contact with soft soil and damp detritus. However, he's in no further danger it would seem, the bear far too concerned with attempting to scramble away rather than continue this bout. Owen sits up as quick as he can, looking to Pervarus and giving him a small nod, and an even smaller smile. "Methinks he's had 'enough fella, let 'em loose!"
  8. @vielle Owen digs his heels into the ground and raises the supercharged tree branch over his head, seemingly unflinching even as the half-ton mass of fur, claws and muscle barrels towards him and his companion. The young mountaineer is nothing if not bold and with a penchant for dramatics; he seems to simply enjoy the act of heroics, despite the overbearing peril of facing down inexplicable terrors such as this one. "I see 'em!" With a flick and swipe of his stick, an arc of lightning fires straight into the bear's chest! The shock is enough to shoot pain throughout the hairy, hulking monstrosity, but not enough to kill of course. Even now Owen is adamant to carry out this task with as little bloodshed as possible. A shame then that the bear doesn’t quite share that sentiment, the painful jolt upsetting the poor beast more than intimidating it. Owen’s stick has lost its electrical faculties, the magic he’d infused it with spent up after firing that stinging current! The bear stumbles during its charge, giving the lad just barely enough time to dodge, tuck and roll out of the way to the side! “Oi! We’re just pissing it off! You got a way to put the fear of gods in ‘em!?” Owen starts frantically scribbling down another sequence of runes down the side of his branch, sweat dotting his brow as he intensely splits his focus between his impromptu weapon and the angry animal.
  9. a coin's flip chance to hit the bear (1 = hit, 2 = miss)
  10. @vielle With fleet of foot, Owen takes off without even a moment's hesitation. His focus is narrowed and expression furrowed, as the soil underneath his boots propels him along. "Aye! 'Tis probably not keen on making kind, this bear! I'll teach the brute some manners!" The lad looks over his shoulder to give Pervarus an affirmative nod as they dart down the trail left by the monstrous bear. The brave and brash boy dashes right into the tree line with his hunting partner in tow, dodging, ducking and weaving around slender trunks and hanging branches. His steps thump furiously, crunching and snapping leaves and twigs underfoot as he thunders across the forest path. Owen takes it upon himself to point out to Pervarus, the large claw marks nicking up some of the thicker oaks and spruce. "A territorial display, no doubt. Look at the size of 'em things! It's gotta be a grizzly or somethin'! A really BIG one!"; his announcement is cut short as the young man comes to a screeching halt. All that noise he'd been making between running through the woods and hollering his head off ceases, and in its place the sounds of a large and frustrated animal can be heard. Guttural growls quake the earth beneath the intrepid pair, the bear's bellows echoing across the bent and broken stumps of the surrounding woods. A resounding thwack marks the contact of sharpened claws scraping against stone, the sheer power carried in these sounds enough to chill the average man to the bone. While Owen is unsure he thinks he can hear a fearful scream amidst it all. Once again he doesn't even spare a second thinking his way through his next course of action. No thinking, just doing. Owen's body moves on its own, shunting forwards with powerful strides until he breaks through the brambles with a leap! His legs held up and arms draped over his head before finishing with a tuck and roll! If Pervarus is still in tow, he and Owen both would bear witness to the large shape of a towering brown bear trying in vain to reach something cowering beneath a narrow, craggy rock ledge. "Hey ugly!" Owen announces their presence to the bear, striking his runestone against the stick he's been carrying. With this single motion he finishes the runic sequence he'd been preparing while they walked. Like a swelling storm, the branch suddenly crackles to life with teeming, arcing electricity!
  11. Owen's brow quirks and dances above his eyes inquisitively as the ever-curious young man watches, listening to arcane utterances with intense focus. His sharp and uncommonly attuned senses easily discern the very hum and thrum of magic amidst the unknowable words Pervarus speaks, his expression even seeming to light up with a smile as he watches the flowers sprout by his companion's feet. The magic of nature and life engendered with such a simple gesture; it's enough to charm the lad. "A druid, eh? I guess that makes yeh a bang on outdoorsman, maybe I don't even need ta strike this poor beastie! Maybe yeh can talk 'em down." He returns Pervarus' teasing with a wink of his own. Upon their emergence through the narrow gap of the tree line and into a proper clearing, Owen's attentive gaze is allowed to wander the camprounds. He takes in the ramshackle and makeshift nature of the scene, nodding to Pervarus with a small frown as he notices the torn and tattered cloth strewn about. "By the gods...I hope nobody was cut-up 'ere!" After a short spell of scanning the area, the boy's attention is grabbed by a peculiar sight. Quickly, Owen runs up and skids to his knees in the grass, before fussily fawning over ostensible indentations in the ground. A nervous lump forms in his throat, a little sweat dotting his brow naught for affliction by heat, but fright. "Oi! Check these out. Drag marks." He calls out his findings to Pervarus, brushing aside the shredded fabric to better uncover the trail. Looking towards the direction it leads, Owen traces the length of the trail with the end of his branch. "Recent, not too deep too. I don't see any blood so...if 'twas a person the thing drug off at least they ain't injured." The young warrior suddenly stands tall--he dosen't look so laid back or lethargic from the heat anymore. Fierce determination colors his countenance, brow furrowed and glare deathly serious. "...but we don't know how long they have. We should hurry." His hands ball into tight and quivering fists, the few visible knuckles turning a little pale as their circulation falters. Owen looks over his shoulder right at Pervarus; the lad doesn't say anything further, should the druid meet his gaze that would tell him everything he needed to know.
  12. @vielle A permissible smile graces Owen's lips at his companion's curiosity; he holds the rune-scarred stone up for Pervarus' viewing pleasure as they both walk along. With their destination only a short ways away, the lad hastily begins to explain his abilities as best he can. A swift swing sees the branch tucked beneath his arm; he pinches it there so he can free up both of his hands for the coming explanation. Owen points his index and middle finger towards the glowing blue rune emblazaned upon the hand-sized stone. "I'm a Rune Knight...or well a Rune Knight in training at the very least. Me grandfella was teaching me all the ins and outs of the practice; it's a secret and sacred art held in high regard among our people, so you won't see nothin' like it in flatlands and valleys." He taps his fingers against the stone, a small, crackling current of arcane energy arcing between its surface and his fingertips. "An inscribing stone bears the mark of creation. With it I can draw any rune I like..." As an example, Owen carefully scribes a sequence of runes down the front of his armor. The line of runes marking his chest softly ebbs and glows, until it disperses on the thick, leather surface of the lad's chest piece. A hardened layer of frost forms in a flash, adorning Owen's overcoat in thick icy sheets as steam rolls off the magically formed armaments. "...and in turn I can give me gear a bit of a boon! That's a pretty handy trick. innit?" As their boots tread on against the beaten path, softly thudding across the loose dust and soil, the conjured cluster of ice begins to wane and fade underneath the sweltering summer heat. At the very least it seemed to be keeping Owen nice and cool. He sighs; "It ain't an easy path to walk but...grandfather said it's the one that'll never lead me astray. As of right now I've only managed to master the simple sequences, hopefully if I survive the run in with this bear here I'll be able to continue learning." He shakes his head and removes the stick from underneath his arm, once again holding it in his left hand before bringing that inscribing stone the branch now. "What about you? That staff you got there has a pretty stone at its head; you a mage of sorts fella?"
  13. Milke

    Hello everybody

    Hey @Mickey Flash! Thanks for the warm welcome. Yeah, I hope Owen can really make a splash here! I've always enjoyed the more Tribal/Germanic/Celtic look for my fantasy characters. As for Owen's bravery, they always say there's a thin line between courage and stupidity 🤣 I also tend to be wordy, so that's something we do indeed have in common. 😋 I look forwards to seeing more of each other down the road! Thanks again.
  14. @vielle Phew! As the sun beams down on the pair, Owen is left high and dry, considerably less resilient against the lurid bearings of the summer stanch. The boyish mountaineer was dressed for the cold, harsh environment of his mountain home, not the pleasant warmth he shared with Pervarus here. Despite all his faculties the boy feels like he'll melt if he stays out in the heat too long! Wiping the sweat from his brow with a be-gloved hand, the young man manages a meek smile for his hunting partner. "I usually use a sword, fella. However, I like to avoid killin' whenever I can." Softly, Owen swings his branch hither and tither. "If we can beat some sense into this bear and run 'em off, I'll be happy." The lad kneels down and doffs the bag from his pack, hands plunging and fishing through the clutter and cluster as he searches for something in particular. "Oul Gwen wasn't pulling your leg or nothin' though! I am a fighter of sorts. Name's Owen Sloan; do you happen to know what a rune is? Aha!" Whatever he was looking for, Owen seems to have found it! Owen holds up a pointed, ovular stone, bearing the image of a softly glowing blue arrow on its flattest side. The stone gently hums with an enigmatic and arcane energy, as the hardy lad holds it up and above him in one of his rugged hands! The entire time he beams just as brightly as his ostensibly treasured rock; "Don't worry, I ask quite a few questions meself! So I don't mind answering some from time-to-time." Standing tall, the strapping young man points the end of the stone highlighted by the runic arrow towards the branch after he's returned his pack to his back. "This...is the weapon I use the most--my trusty inscribing stone! We'll trounce that bear no problem so long as I've got this beauty. Though these hands got plenty strength in 'em too!" He gives a hearty laugh, slinging his stick over his shoulder. "So don't count me out if I wanted to wrestle this beastie with my bare hands! No pun intended~" Suddenly feeling the heat beat down on his brow again, Owen tugs on the collar of his burlap shirt beneath his heavy overcoat. "We should get a move on; otherwise I'm gonna faint out here in this heat, before we even get to the bear!"
  15. Oh! You can go ahead and start the new thread, gives me a chance to get into the swing of things 😆
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