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MartinVole Ambassador & member of RPG for 8 years

Author Promethean Conversation Starter Inspiration World Builder Conversationalist Friendly Beginnings Novelist Streamwatcher Person of Interest Bug Hunter Visual Appeal Tipworthy Lifegiver Greeter Concierge

An OG in many scenes I suppose, I am a writer and sketcher with a preference towards monsters and the general bizarre and other-worldly. I like science fiction and fantasy mostly and mixing them.
212,044 words written.
646 total posts.
328 words per post.
12 posts per roleplay.
76 average days in a roleplay.
52 universes joined.
5.00 INK received in tips.

Basic Information

Username:
MartinVole
Groups:
Began Role Playing:
09 Feb 1995
Favorite Role Playing Game:
Hard to say
Game Master:
Yes

User statistics

Joined:
Tue Nov 25, 2014 5:11 pm
Last visited:
Mon Oct 03, 2022 9:34 pm
Medals:
16
Total posts:
Search user’s posts
(0.00% of all posts / 0.02 posts per day)
Most active forum:
Out of Character
(229 Posts / 487.23% of user’s posts)
Most active topic:
Pantheon: Whims of the Gods
(22 Posts / 46.81% of user’s posts)

Contact MartinVole

Elsewhere

Medals

Author

Author

Wrote your first piece in a universe!

Promethean

Promethean

Successfully created a universe for others.

Conversation Starter

Conversation Starter

Created your first topic!

Inspiration

Inspiration

Another user created a post in a universe you created!

World Builder

World Builder

Created your first non-default location in an RPG universe!

Conversationalist

Conversationalist

Participated in 10 different conversations on the forum!

Friendly Beginnings

Friendly Beginnings

You posted your first topic in the Welcome Forum.

Novelist

Novelist

Wrote over 80,000 total words!

Streamwatcher

Streamwatcher

Awarded for joining a stream!

Person of Interest

Person of Interest

Created a character that was later followed by another user!

Bug Hunter

Bug Hunter

You were the first to find and report a previously unknown bug!

Visual Appeal

Visual Appeal

Awarded for adding an avatar to your profile!

Tipworthy

Tipworthy

Awarded for receiving your first tip from another user!

Lifegiver

Lifegiver

Created a character in an RPG universe.

Greeter

Greeter

Responded to 10 different topics in the Welcome Forum.

Concierge

Concierge

Responded to 25 different topics in the Welcome Forum.

Universes

22 created.
0 active.
22 inactive.
0 completed.

Universes Created

Deep 17: Contingency

In the underground labs beings of all forms and origins, born and created, have been contained with the ideal of conditioning them towards advancing the world , making it greater. They thought they could keep it under control, that nothing could go wrong.

Sands of Oblivion

In a cruel and torn gray world that never was truly conceived, beyond light and dark, where memories are a precious commodity, resides a will to find meaning. Can life find meaning here, or fade to the nothing?

Most Tipped Posts

0.25 INK received for post #2778678, located in Lunalake Island:

"There was once another who made the blooms, who's dreams became gardens... do you remember, or have you forgotten the roots from which you were cast? The tree that became your solace from the abyss is her effigy," a voice whispered, as if its owner were right beside Drayden, a voice that spoke to him alone. It was a woman's voice, with an ambiguous coldness in her tone. Under the microscope, the paint began to shift as if reacting to the presence. "I remember, for it was from her seed I was grown, in a bramble of her lingering regrets, thorns of sorrow. Just as she, with a touch, I can plant a seed in the dreamless... just as I did with Malachie. And this, the paint of creation? I made it grow as well, and through it, my connection to you, Drayden. I am curious, you were there from the time before, were you not? You and Abdown... did you... simply watch as the Silence consumed my mother?"

The microscope shuddered, and from it, a portion of the sample leaked out into a trail onto the table, turning black as it did so, forming into a thorny vine, and at the end, an eye-like red bloom opened. It was a signature of the witch, Zilthai.


0.25 INK received for post #2823303, located in Nix Kingdom:

Image
A kingdom, one of the few bastions of order within a warped and hostile world. Built from a need for some cause, some banner to serve under, the Nix Lords of times past, and mostly forgotten, built this kingdom into a stronghold, a sanctuary of sorts for those lost. May they been called tyrants in other lands, ruling strict, but here they were the most fair as well compared to the savagery that exists outside its walls.

Within these halls, the current lord, Halloesh, sits upon a throne made in part of gray wood and in the other of purple fabric. The throne was adorned in the chitinous remains of some serpentine creature, it's head, dangling atop the resting rail, had a strange blade held within its jaws, just within the lord's reach. Halloesh himself sat, leaned back and relaxed, a goblet in one hand of some fermented juice of a red fruit that grows in the sands that was deemed, at least, safe enough.

Today he had gathered his most loyal and most subservient. To his side, Cordelia, his most faithful, a form barely identifiable as human, adorned in a purple cotton cloak, body covered in silken cloth, face obscured by a sharp shiny ornamental metal mask where only a gleam of a blue eye is visible, and decorated in blades. She knelt there silently, as best she can without arms. She was always close, possibly the most truly loyal, not forged of fear but longing. A pathetic creature, some say.

"I hear murmurs," he begins, his voice deep and steady, echoing through the chambers and breaking the silence. "...That I am without heir, that I will be the last lord. I will say, that is true."

There is a stir of confusion and disbelief. Even Cordelia shakes. But Halloesh taps the armrest of his throne and returns silence to the room.

"I will be the last lord, the last one of this long cold chapter," he continues, twirling his finger in his goblet slowly. "I had a dream, that the moon falls and the sun rises, that the serpent is torn. As I bring order here, as my fathers before me brought structure in this desolate world, our dream of prosperity shall too be realized. For you see, my most loyal, that in this dream, a great many emerged from the sand, against the Un, against the Ouroboros, and the moon moved and the tides of the abyss stirred and became blue, and light, true light shone through the gray skies. Let it be known again, that I Halloesh will succeed where my predecessors failed, and you, who follow, shall stand tall upon those who fell before you. Our salvation will come soon, by our own hands. And this sword, Void Howl, passed down from the lord before me, is the key."


0.25 INK received for post #2776444, located in Lunalake Island:

Abdown cast a glance at Vortahar as he left, deciding against pursuing him, for now at the very least. He assumed this was against his mentor's wishes anyways and would likely stir trouble, regardless of any good intent. Later perhaps a discussion was in order, over some tea.

The governor put his hand on his chin, pondering what to do now. An attack was staged so close to home, even if he felt no malice in it. It forced his hand, and he had to make a decision, one that'd certainly conflict with the coward of a mayor.

"You," Abdown said, turning in the direction of Raimondo. "I'm curious... what are your intentions with the Harlequins? I must say, it is rare to see those of us willing to take up arms, in your case, quite literally," he continued, giving a look at him, then over at Aeila, who also participated in the fight. "I feel I'm under pressure to make some... executive decision regarding all this, and the spread of Silence."

"Executive dec... decision?" the mayor muttered, a faint shimmer of some frustration in his eyes. "What? Haha... no, don't worry about it! You resigned yourself to advisory, remember?"

"Under the pretense," Abdown responded almost immediately, raising a finger and casting a piercing gaze at the diminutive mayor. "Of maintain the peace."

"Oh... oh! But nobody was harmed, all is well! B-besides it was... it was after you, right? Seems l-like a personal matter, right? No need...no need to involve..." the mayor responded, his tone getting quieter and shriller as he found Abdown's gaze increasingly... intense, shrinking back until no more words exited his throat.

"The Harlequins chose to pick up arms against the Silence, and some broke the taboo of killing others, even if they were infected, and overall, the Silence should be our greatest priority," governor Abdown said, turning back to Raimondo. "They are dangerous, don't get me wrong, and they have to be stopped, but they aren't exactly wrong, either. What does justice dictate in such a situation?"


0.25 INK received for post #2786678, located in Sevaecia:

A lone man walked the path towards the castle, dressed in armor that had been hastily strapped on, leaving him to adjust it every once in a while. His expression was sullen, trying not to make eye contact with those that looked upon him. They whispered to one another, keeping their distance from him like he were some ill omen. He was a strange man, of the like from a foreign land, darker complexion and eyes a hot yellow, messy hair black as night with a strange bluish glisten to it.

He had no real name, no lineage that was obvious to him, things that even a lowly peasant would have in comfort. Rumors spread about him, that he was born of a devil, or cursed at birth, and he wouldn't be surprised if they were right. They called him Editus Rayne, a bringer of misfortune. Ever since he could think on his own, he has known only a cycle of unending struggle, and the cruel cold within and without. He didn't even know why he had survived this long, or cared to do so. He was here, now, hand picked to be sized up for the role of knight.

Why am I even doing this? This is laughable, I'm not fit for a knight, they know it well, and yet... picked by the king himself? Why? he wondered as he scratched through his hair with slight visible frustration. From everything he knew, from what all people have said, the king wasn't the kind to pull such a cruel prank. They say he is a good man, a righteous man, concepts foreign to an unwanted child grown into a cynical man. Everything to him was a subject of suspect, as much as his own existence was. Just, what the hell even is a righteous man? he wondered in frustration. He wanted to see it with his own eyes, what is truly the brightest of virtues.

He looked ahead to the gate, taking a deep breath and exhaling, blowing his messy hair from his eyes. By no surprise to him, others had come before him, likely more enthusiastic than him. What sort would these others be? Glory seekers, looking for their slice of fame and fortune? Were they the noble sort that looked down on blots like himself, was there going to be a fight as soon as he entered their presence? He wasn't afraid of conflict, he wasn't afraid of battle, and he certainly wasn't afraid of being honest.

"Well then, o' noblest of parties, the stray mangy dog, Editus Rayne, now walks among you!" he cried out with an irreverent yet smooth tone, thick with flagrant disregard of even his own self. He then fished out something from his bag, a rolled up piece of parchment with the undeniable royal seal. "Perhaps I was mistaken and this is my arrest for some crime instead, but this summons I received seems to indicate that I was called for... service?"


0.25 INK received for post #2790196, located in Lunalake Island:

"Tea is a form of drink made from boiling water and steeping in the leaves of- you seriously don't know what tea is!? Having you been living under a rock y- Oh... right," Basalah said, giving time to ponder her words, realizing she is practically talking to a caveman of a more literal sense. She had taken a moment to assess the intellect of her comrades in more scrutinizing depth. For the most part it seemed that, besides the giant and one of the skeleton brothers... John... the others seemed average, more or less, with a few sparks in between. She rubbed her chin as she entered the surprisingly roomy elevator, a fancy one with a Victorian flair, blue with eloquent designs etched into the walls, the control panel was brass, fitted with a series of buttons. On the buttons there were no numbers, rather, some form of symbols. The lack of a strong female presence also functions in my favor of asserting my own, she thought. Though my current state makes that a... considerable obstacle.

"Well, down we go then," Abdown said as they all entered the elevator, placing his arms behind his back. He then pushed a button on the panel, prompting the doors to close with a clank, and, with a shake, it began to descend. It became apparent that the elevator also had an open view out the door, giving a free look out into the shaft for some reason. Through unseen speakers the sound of eloquent violin music could be heard softly playing. After a while of descent, they could see fanciful long hallway after another passing by the door, architecture that should be impossible to fit within the constraints of a tower. After about the fifth, the lights in the elevator flickered before going out entirely, and pitch black took the entirety. The speakers crackled, as something massive passed by the elevator. Basalah, fearless, looked out the door. The elevator was descending into what would be only described as an impossible space within the rings of a massive brass Armillary sphere, tracking the rotation of this world's islands around a core, the moon above that, and beyond that, something more complex and strange, bodies beyond visible space with strange markings etched within, blocked out by a rotating curved sheet representing the veil, the lettering glowing different colors on these rings with other series of smaller spheres carried within them.

"We had never considered before the first encounter the potentiality of infinite permutations beyond our sphere, more beautiful, or infinitely more horrible," he said this, as the rings began to pass by the door in a faster motion, the blur of them generating an image within their glowing symbols of a brilliantly colorful green-and-blue planet, then something ripping through its sky, a form shooting out like a comet, striking the moon taking off a chunk from its side then plunging into the planet, blanketing it in void and scattering pieces of land into the air. The image blanks out as they seem to enter back into a relatively normal shaft again, the music returning to normal and the lights flickering back on. The elevator descended into something akin to an eloquent spacious lobby, a series of stairs curving up into upper rooms, red carpeting with intricate designs in them, above them a crystal chandelier that jingled ever so softly, and before... before them was a table, at first appearing as ivory seemed instead a white wood grown into an eloquent design, likewise with the chairs with red cushions. On this rather large table was a pot of tea, cups, and some crumpets in plates already prepared with care, along with a fine assortment of marmalades to compliment. "Feel free to help y-"

"MINE!" Basalah suddenly shrieked, breaching her collected demeanor into a wild frenzy, lunging at the table and scarfing down on the crumpets like a wild animal.

"-ourselves," he finished, stroking his chin. "There's plenty, so no worries. Quite the... appetite she has."

"Appetites like that were not uncommon with the impoverished," Grimms said somewhat starkly. "Then again, she's also growing, so maybe it is that, anyways, my gratitude for your hospitality," he continued, his tone turning back to the more familiar warm cordiality, placing a hand on his chest and bowing to their host before making his way to the table. With a strange level of care, his massive fingers plucked up a knife and with patient care spread a seemingly strawberry flavored jam on it, before consuming it within his flaming jaws. He then, with equal finesse, took a cup, filled with with tea, and, pinky out, drank it. "Ah, magnificent blend."


Signature

Honor and arrogance are two sides of the same coin. We don't need standards like "honor," we just need mutual respect, and to do right by ourselves, as well as others.