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About P.N.See

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  • Birthday 08/15/1994

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    Land of Cold Spring and Expensive Chocolate
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    Student (Automation)

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  1. Ruto o Torimasu | Taking Root - Laying the Foundation

    Vincent's Arc - A Matter of Trust - 2/10 @Al Sa-her @Chappu @LorSanTekka @Metty @ChaoticanWriter All Vincent could do is just watch. The vampiric aide-de-camp was residing under the shadows provided by tents. The sun had been already high and enough to make Vincent’s sensitive skin itch and evaporate. Like many of his kind, he was forced to keep inside the improvised buildings and restrain one’s movements. Thankfully, the campground was organised in such a way that the shadow coverage would allow the vampire lords to traverse across the whole site so that they would manipulate undead workers day and night. Perhaps, Lady Mina deserved some credit for that trait, Vincent would think to himself. As for himself, he wasn’t much into commanding the bunch of brainless drones, while a living mind holds so much secrets. And those two from Tilia were certainly puzzling him. The dwarf was predictable: a greedy bastard who could sell his own mother for a dime. Sure, he could make some fortune under the ever-loving emperor’s wing, but it is unlikely that he would witness the rise of the empire in his rather short lifetime. Or even un-lifetime. But the other one, the human… It was an almost clean slate, filled by some unknown tribe wisdoms and dwarven “fairytale”. An iron heart with a shallow mind… If driven correctly, he could become a valuable asset for the empire… or their biggest problem. Vincent’s train of thought had been interrupted as two figures suddenly flew from the harem tent. Everyone’s attention had been got by the brawl between two women. Among them Vincent recognized Lady Mina. But before he could get to her, something bizarre happened. The sky in his eyes darkened, the air got colder and the shadows beneath his feet lengthened. Then he came. Very few had seen him before in their feeble lives, yet one glimpse was enough to recognize who he was. The god among gods stood above the draconian assailant being struck down. Ever vigilant. Never forgetting. Ready to seal her fate. From this day forward, no matter where you are, nor what you are doing, you will belong to me until the day I die! “And I will belong to you until the day the sun dies with you...” - he whispered. Not even dragonborn could stand the chance against him. Him, whose spirit transcends beyond the material world. Him, who would challenge the High Lords and reign supreme. Him, who would conquer the sun and sink this world into the darkness… Darkness! Oh, what a tempting desire! Oh, how he despised his own humanity! Oh, how he hated this everlasting sun! If only he could scratch it out from the reality - his reality… There would be no light, no humanity. Only the dark. And him. And the Empire. And… No. No-no-no-no… Not that again! Vincent shook off his head, ashamed of his own thoughts. This wasn’t the first time his conscious got sucked by a blind devotion to Emperor Koji. And it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The thing so alien, so disgustful for the telepath’s rational mind… and yet, the thing so necessary to survive in this brave new world. So far Vincent hadn’t shown any reason to be distrusted: it would be foolish to lose the trust he had been literally dying for since he had been hunted. The vampire focused back on the scene to see that the deed was done: the draconian was dead - only to become an another puppet in a moment. Lady Mina, being badly injured, had been treated by a human doctor that appeared out of nowhere. It seemed that the emperor didn’t mind, now that he was alone, aside from a young tiefling and a draconian corpse. Of course, Mina wasn’t in the right condition to discuss anything that relates to her projects. And Vincent knew that well like no other. Thus, all he could do is just watch.
  2. Ruto o Torimasu | Taking Root - Laying the Foundation

    Tobruk's Arc - Spark Among The Dark - 2/10 “This is your home now, human. You like it?” “By the gods...” If it was the way for Tobruk to explain the mess he was currently in, it probably would be this: a stray drake came inside the forge and turned everything upside down before taking the nap, then broke the rest of the rest after being shooed. Either way, the blacksmith’s tent was in rather unpleasant condition - not without a kicked out anvil and an emptied furnace. “The last guy was a conflicting one.” - The quartermaster explained. - “So you gotta clean that up for him...” “...But what could have happened here? That is clearly not the man’s doing...” “You don’t wanna know.” - the demon muttered and came toward the pile of some instruments. - ”Now about that assignment of yours… We’ve been ordered to make some tools for our woodcutters. Check it out.” From the pile he pulled out an iron axe and threw it at Tobruk. Much to the quartermaster’s surprise, the one-eyed blacksmith managed to catch it with relative ease. He watched carefully at the cutting part and slowly slid his finger on its rage. “This is terrible.” - Tobruk exclaimed. - “It is not even sharpened.” “That’s the actual problem!” - The quartermaster growled. - “We can’t rely on the imported tools long-term, and we are behind the woodwork schedule! There are twenty toothpicks in that pile. You’re oughta make ‘em sharp enough to cut through pines, or - by seven hells - you’ll meet that other guy… PERSONALLY!” The demon made the emphasis on the last word as loud and threatening as possible. Anyone passing by would feel how the air around was trembling. Yet, there was only a concern on Tobruk’s face. “You mean, the old blacksmith is here? Didn’t he leave? Can I talk to him?” After a brief pause and a brief staredown, the demon waved away. The old blacksmith’s bones were thrown to the emperor’s hounds long ago. And yet, the human standing before the quartermaster did not get the threat seriously - whether it was intentional or not. But who could blame the demon, if there was no executions in Tobruk’s world? There was no use of talking any further. Before leaving Tobruk on his own, the quartermaster looked back with his tired eyes. “By the evening it should be done. Don’t test my patience.” It had taken a while before Tobruk made his new workshop more or less suitable for his work. The sun just rose above the ground, so the blacksmith had enough time to get accommodated and get to work. He watched at the defect axes left behind by the previous master, checking their durability and sharpness. It was noted that the pieces were prepared in an unexplained hurry, thus wasting most of the material for naught. Perhaps the reforging might be the solution for the given problem. Unfortunately, there would be much less axes remained after that. Given the current state of those 20 pieces, only 1 valuable piece could be obtained. Maybe, two. But it might be worth the try. While the furnace was heating up, Tobruk thought about the previous blacksmith’s fate. The quartermaster’s tone in his mind and the mayhem at the workshop were telling him something terrible had happened. Of course, they would look for the new blacksmith because the old one had failed to do his job. If Tobruk only had more knowledge about what might happen… With that in mind, Tobruk started to look differently at the surrounding camp in general. He could feel there was something wrong. Something that was putting Bofrak, such a good, noble man, in such a pitiful situation. The local people and those who was in charge were not like any people he had encountered. Moreover, in some extend, it was hard even to describe some of them - liveless, twisted, mutilated - as human beings… But the alarming thought had faded away and Tobruk completely dived into the work. The familiar heat from the furnace, the molten metal floating down into the frame… This was the part of the tribal world he came from. This was the part of himself, resounding across the reality with the metal clank. This was his nature.
  3. Ruto o Torimasu | Taking Root - Laying the Foundation

    Bofrak's Arc - Climbing The Corpses - 2/10 Upon entering the quartermaster’s tent, Tobruk and Bofrak were surprised to see that the interior was resembling more of a well-furnished apartment than one of a self-made construct. Instead of leather canvas, there were solid dark wooden walls. Instead of a grassy floor, there was a firm stone pavement decorated with a crimson carpet. At the opposite side of the room (it was difficult to call that a tent) there were several bookshelves full of account books and otherworldly trinkets, and a broad writing desk. Behind that desk, a massive red-brown figure was gazing back at those who dared to enter its lair. The figure was wearing a waistcoat tailored specifically for his extra large size. His pitch black hair were combed in such manner that his back-twisted horns were barely visible beneath them. “A new addition, I see.” - The low-pitched voice rumbled across the room. - “Spit it out. What do you need?” Poor Bofrak had been shaking out of the dread ever since the arrival, yet such an enormous visage by its own means managed to reduce dwarf’s self-esteem down to the level of a lowly worm. Given how miserable and insignificant he felt, he could not let out a single word. Tobruk was slightly confused both by the quartermaster’s bizarre appearance and the mentor’s reaction. Nonetheless, being the man that never saw a demon before, he stepped forward and spoke straight as it should be. “We came here to answer the emperor’s call. Mister Sarvalis told us to---” “That comedian...” - The demon growled, clenching his massive fists. At least, the vampire wasn’t lying about their complicated relationship. - “Cut to the chase already! I don’t have time for you meatbags!” “They say you need a blacksmith.” - Tobruk continued, speaking with all that short Genesarian vocabulary he had in mind. - “I am a blacksmith.” The quartermaster looked at the muscular human and hummed. His glowing eyes scanned Tobruk’s body from head to toe, fixating the sight on the blacksmith’s eyepatch. Then he hummed again and scratched his black sideburns. “A blacksmith, huh...” - The demon sighed. - “That’ll do, that’ll do. And what about YOU, shorty?” - He leaned down toward petrified Bofrak, staring into the dwarf’s eyes. The merchant felt a scorching breath of hell blowing throughout his beard and face. It would be a suicide to even try fooling this beast. Still, his tongue spontaneously moved himself in fear, making him spit out a bunch of barely distinguishable sentences. “W-we-well, I-I-I… am a m-merchant… like… very rich merchant… I-I-I have con-n-nections! The t-tr-trading c-c-c-companies from Shrine C-city know m-me well! I could a-a-ask ‘em for g-goods… s-supplies… s-slaves… I-I mean…” The quartermaster smirked in response to Bofrak’s blubbering. It was clear as a day that puny midget would cheat in order to keep his head intact. On the other hand, anyone aside from vampires, demons and the emperor’s goon would throw gibberish before the imperial quartermaster. No wonder that slick Vincent had been bugging him because of that… “A dwarf on behalf of trading company...” - The demon snorted. - “You think I emerged from seven hells yesterday to believe that obvious bluff of yours?” “He-heh… Heh...” - that was all that Bofrak could spell before getting into mental breakdown: something was pumping out heavily inside his chest, aching to burst out. “Mister Bofrak is a good, noble man!” - Tobruk suddenly stood up. - “He earned respect from good people. He earned respect from me.” The demon raised his brow. He seemed stumbled by the human’s bold position regarding this dwarven fool. Either a devoted of a delirious one, he might think. Once again, what kind of idiot would send mortals on the servitude to the monster king? And yet, there they were, standing still in front of him, ready to give their all - and even more - to the common cause. There was something needed to be done. “If that’s the case,” - the quartermaster straightened himself, arising above the visitors again. - “I might need to send the request regarding your business. Sure, those big-headed bloodsuckers would crack you open instantly, if you’re lying. But I...” - He leaned back on his chair, letting out a wide grin. - “I would have a more personalized approach for you, shorty.” Dwarf tried to keep himself silent. Any word, any squeak coming from him could be used as an excuse to be flayed alive or whatever this fiend might do with him. The fiend himself stood up from his desk and limped toward Tobruk. The quartermaster appeared to be one head taller than the blacksmith. “Now let us get down with your business, human. Follow me and do not lose your track. As for you...” - He turned back to the dwarf and pointed at him with his curled finger. “STAY. HERE. DO NOT. TOUCH. ANYTHING!” Bofrak could do nothing but to bob his head in response. Having rolled his eyes, the demon left the tent, and Tobruk silently followed. Finally, the dwarf had been left alone. As his heart had stopped pumping so fiercely, a former confidence and curiosity came back. Though the feeling was weaker and being influenced by a persistent dread, it was there, making Bofrak think carefully about the escape plan. For starters, the demon was right: nobody in Shrine City ever knew (yet!) there is a dwarf named Bofrak Goldfoot. Luckily, the checkout would take some time, so before the bluff opens up, he would work his way up the local social ladder until he would become untouchable for the quartermaster’s wrath. But the dwarf needed a headstart - something that would help gain the emperor’s trust. Something that would show them how much of “a good, noble man” he was… And, by the way, that was a nice-looking pen. Bofrak’s little eyes got fixated on one of the demon’s writing utensils. It was an ink pen decorated with a gold ornament and encased in a ruby tube. The dwarf quickly evaluated that it costs an enormous amount of money. “Taking out this pen for myself would be utterly stupid.” - The dwarf thought. - “I’ll let some idiot do this dirty job for me...” That was only leading to the question: where to find a living idiot for that? Aside from Tobruk, of course…
  4. Sorry, we serve only pepper steaks. Welcome to Valucre. Cause no trouble. No, I mean, a reasonable amount of trouble.
  5. Ruto o Torimasu | Taking Root - Laying the Foundation

    Bargain with the Dragon Act I. A Thoughtful Delusion In a little Midland town of Tilia, a mysterious stranger preached about the rise of the new nation and brought Datsuzoku’s call for volunteers. The majority of townsmen refused the offer, mush to the visitor’s dismay. However, a few people - the wandering blacksmith Tobruk the Magmahide and his guide and mentor, the insidious dwarven merchant Bofrak Goldfoot - had shown interest in realizing emperor’s dream in exchange for a solid reward. Along with the visitor and few other volunteers they traversed through The Midland to the campsite where the construction of Capitol takes place... The construction camp build in the middle of a designed city was creating quite a civil and organized impression. There were workers, designators and coordinators moving from side to side. They were talking with each other, arguing, bargaining about estimated time, supplies shortages and recruiting. Inside the couple of large tents there were emperor’s officers responsible for provisions and organization of the construction. For a brief moment Bofrak felt at ease, as if he was about to make a rational deal with the man, not the devil. He watched at the build site of a royal palace and admired the scape of the emperor’s dream about to become fulfilled. Having being focused on the palace, the dwarf hadn’t noticed a tall figure carrying the pack of twigs. Both of them had hit the ground, followed by the sound of a cracked wood. “Deepest apologize.” - Bofrak blurted out, while standing up and cleaning his jacket. - “I was just looking for the quarterma---” “RRRRAUGH!” - The dried noseless face of the man twisted in an intimidating grimace, causing Bofrak to fell down again in fear. The illusion of safety had vanished instantly: he was still among the monsters. The undead ignored the terrified dwarf and picked up the remainings of his cargo. After that, it walked away like nothing had happened. “He seems to be tired.” - A deep voice came from behind. Bofrak reoriented himself and noticed Tobruk firmly standing before him in a travelling attire. His worn-out fur vest looked a bit inappropriate for the climate of The Midlands. A huge bag full of forge instruments was bouncing on the back with each step Tobruk was making. Behind it, a massive halberd of an unknown origin was strapped tight, demonstrating the wielder’s might by its scale alone. “Oh, Tobruk, my friend...” - the dwarf groaned. - “I don’t think that thing could feel anything.” “But why should they work like that? My people used to care for sick ones and old ones...” Bofrak looked at the tribesman with a faint smirk. Couldn’t distinct a zombie from your average slave, could he? It sure is hard to impress that big buffoon. “It’s a bit complicated, Tobruk.” - The dwarf replied. - “You see, that man is from a very distant tribe way below the ground. Despite of their… unsettling appearance, they proved to be quite tough...” “Oh, my dear mister Goldfoot!” - a familiar tenor rang in one’s ears. - “Why making such a simple matter so complicated?” Bofrak shuddered. This long-coated freak had been accompanying them since Tilia. He had been brainwashing them with sugary speeches about the emperor’s benevolence and patience, varying topics from god-like riches to some sort of “unforeseen consequences”. “If you want to let the stranger know about the world, do it properly.” - the vampire continued. - “Explain by using his own tongue.” “I have my own methods of teaching, mister Whatever-You-Call-Yourself!” - Bofrak muttered. The vampire suddenly slapped himself on the forehead. “Ah, where is my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. Vincent Sarvalis, the emperor’s aide-de-camp, at your humble service.” - He performed a curtsey with a gentle smile, lowering his head down to the level of Bofrak’s head. The dwarf sprung back away from the vampire: such gallantry was getting on his nerves. Tobruk, while unaware of the etiquette, still appreciated their guide’s behaviour and gave a silent nod. “I suppose you were going to the quartermaster’s office for an official assignment.” - Vincent remarked. Bofrak nodded. “And provisions. We were just looking for whereabouts of the--” “Right there.” - the vampire extended his arm in a the direction of one of the tents. - “The office is resided right there. I’ll be waiting for you here while you’re dealing with the papers.” “Aren’t you coming with us?” - Tobruk asked, breaking his silence for once. “Well...” - Vincent stopped smiling. - “Me and the quartermaster have the relation… of a matter not suitable for a discussion.” “Pfft.” - Bofrak snickered. - “I bet his face is even more uglier than yours.” “The fact I might agree with, mister Goldfoot!” “Hrrm… Let’s go, Tobruk.” - The dwarf blurted out. - “This guy is giving me creeps.” Bofrak was barely keeping himself in an obviously hostile environment. Vampires, zombies, even simple people that answered the emperor’s call - everyone was giving him creeps. The wisest decision would be to run away, maybe even leave Tobruk in this freak circus. But the promise of the reward, an imaginary golden mountain rose about the earth, whetting the dwarf’s appetite. He would just need to bargain with the quartermaster to get a profitable trade route open for a blatant fraud. As for Tobruk, he was thinking only about performing his duty. Even back in old times he had never paid much interest in the politics and the power balance. Even though, being able to help people of any reachable nation would help him to expand knowledge about the world he had been thrown in. “Mister Tobruk!” The blacksmith was following Bofrak on his way to quartermaster’s tent, when the alluring tenor called him back. Vincent still stood behind them, indicating by his expression that their conversation is not over yet. “Just if you wanted to know… That man was the undead. A revived corpse risen from the grave against its non-existent will. Or rather stolen from his eternal mountain home, if you prefer a tribal terminology...” Tobruk immediately stood in shock. He was stunned not by the fact that the dead one could live and breathe again (though it was still beyond a tribesman’s comprehension). How that stranger could know his tongue? Tobruk hadn’t seen him before, though he could remember anyone who had visited his… his… “But do not bug yourself with such trivial thoughts.” - Vincent replied soothingly. - “Once you get used to our big happy family, that would be the least of your concerns.” Staggered and confused, yet feeling strangely calm, Tobruk left the vampire in the middle of the yard and walked toward the quartermaster’s tent.
  6. Taking Root

    Much appreciated. Still, I need to do a separate introductory post for this particular quest. A-a-and I'm still working on that one.
  7. Taking Root

    Now that I think of it... I might need a companion (or rather mentor) to lead him to the site. Exploiting his scarce knowledge about the world might do the trick. Here's very huge backstory on that matter. I've decided to add another (technically expendable) character to add some flavor.
  8. Taking Root

    If you, by any means, still need a blacksmith, you know where to find me. Anyway, Tobruk may be a potent candidate.
  9. Dunno if it is a good time to tease something being in unfinished condition, but...


    1. P.N.See


      It gets worse


    2. jaistlyn
  10. To Gamers: What are you playing currently?

    It would be much appreciated, if someone could drag me out from Neverwinter Online. If someone else is playing it too - tough luck: my character is locked to Russian server. Also, completed Hiveswap recently.
  11. Interested at all in drawing cartoons with this kind of style and simplicity?


    Since I'd need to rig it for animation any way, I'd vectorize any sketches you'd make--let me know if you'd be interested!

    1. Show previous comments  2 more
    2. P.N.See



      Here's my attempt on simple head turns. Obviously, I have tough times keeping things tight and clean. Also, Photoshop leveling. But still, some basic principles on perspective matter are present (as far as I understand them), such as eyeball's relative scaling, positioning and so on.

    3. P.N.See


      BTW, all you said about Character Animator does sound neat. Unfortunately, my income (as well as my schedule and life choices) wouldn't allow me to afford the Creative Cloud subscription. I know there is other way around, but I don't think if that's tolerable in US.

    4. Off Topic

      Off Topic

      Going to try and rig this tonight or tomorrow! I'll show you

  12. Welp. There goes my head start for my storyline... @deadcasketburied, I wish you good luck with that one.
  13. The Best Blacksmith Valucre Has To Offer!

    That's right. I'm back. Still interested. Really to roll.
  14. Aelindra? What a magical turn of events. Wanna this, too.
  15. I remember that @~Harlow. PMed me to greet me as soon as I got registered here. There were also several people with whom I RPed as The Eyeless. Could recall @William Sytherian Grimm and @B2BBear for that one. However, the person with whom I truly met was, of course, @SabersFire, also known as FlamingTraveler, also known as Flamey, also known as That Crazy Cake Gal.