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Ben_Goten78's Personal Page
Ben_Goten78

Time With Zybez: 5+ years
RuneScape Help Position: Project Manager
Time Playing RuneScape: 4 years. Retired Jan 2006.
By the way, LG products suck!



  • Name: Ben
    • Birthdate: Feb 6th, 1989 » Age: 19
    • Location: South East Queensland, Australia
  • RS Name: Ben_Goten78 (retired)
  • Email: Ben@Zybez.net
  • Name pronunciation: Ben - Go - ten

Want me to stick around at Zybez?

About Me

These days I'm getting fit and healthy and doing a a Bachelor of Business/Bachelor of Information Technology at University. I have lost a lot of my interest in computers, and am always wanting to find something else to do. I'm going to try learning to windsurf and kitesurf. I've started learning to windsurf and I've gone about 6 meteres lol.

I enjoy going out with friends, partying and generally trying hard to boycot my computer.

My favorite TV shows are: Charmed, Stargate, Stargate Atlantis, Threshold, 4400, Heroes, Smallville, Gray's Anatomy, House, Medium, The Amazing Race, Futurama, and Family Guy. I hate The Simpsons - it wastes up to 3 hours of TV time a night! There are so many more FAR BETTER shows that could be repeated once, rather than repeating The Simpsons a hundred times each.

I'm on a fitness crusade, aimed at reaching a "fat free index" which for me is 18.5% body fat. I'm walking 8 kilometres a day, doing a bit of gym and on a low fat diet. I've found out just swapping from chicken fillet to roasted chicken saves 20g of fat! So I'm doing that now, lol. Foot long toasted roasted chicken on wheat with cheddar cheese, lettuce, tomato, capsicum, cucumber, carrot and salt & pepper <-- So delicious.

I love the Google Personalised Homepages. It's where I plan my parties, keep track of the weather and look at Nasa's Image of the Day, which are always awe-inspiring; I love how nice they can make outer-space with different filters.

I enjoy photography and have a Sony Cybershot DSCW100 and a tripod. My photo library currently stands at around 4,600 images.

Some history...

I joined RSC around March 2003; just before the "big hack". I joined runescape around February of 2002, and quit in January 2006.

I was voted SeMe of the Summer for 2004. I've retired RSC because Zybez takes up so much time, and I'd rather not be on the computer as much anymore.

I got SeMe around April 13th, 2004. Got my first rating from Thalador on March 14th, 2004. I received the mod rank in October 2004, and then Senior Mod in December 2004. I retired from RSC after 3 and a half years on September 10 2006.

On Sunday, April 11 of 2004, I created my popular Marketplace price guide on a windows 98 machine, with a busted floppy drive, and no USB ports. So I spent an hour connecting it to the internet, and sending it to my email. It took around three hours to create, and I have spent countless hours updating it since then. If I had to guess, it would be well over 700 hours. That text guide has been given a massive face lift and is now on Zybez with, thankfully, five or more people updating it daily. When it was moved to Zybez, it doubled Zybez's traffic.

I was very dedicated to Zybez in my prime-time. I have a RuneScape Image Archive containing pictures of a hell of a lot of stuff. My Archive currently stands at 673MB; 13,171 Files, 452 Folders.

Started many new revolutionary projects for RuneScape Help, which will be up in their own time. At the time we created the idea, no other side had anything like what we will have. There are around eight features planned for release... no idea on release dates though.



Player Bio
During February of 2002, I began my RuneScape journey. At level 3, I was a young and naive player. I knew nothing of the game, except for what my neighbor had taught me. I remember thinking that combat level was based on a random number of skill levels that I got. A few highlights of my Runescape past include: receiving my first set of full iron from a stranger; making a few really great friends; almost dieing in the wilderness at level 63, with a red party hat and 700k on me; getting membership for the first time in Christmas 2002, subsequently gaining over 300 levels in that month, and completing all the quests; training agility at New Years Eve of 2002 at the Barb agility course; breaking the 1,000 skills mark at Dec 27 2003; the party hat dupe; the scythe drop; the Santa hat drop; the bunny ear drop; staying up until midnight on Dec 1. 2003 when the RSII beta was released, and not being able to get on; the Seer's Village party hall dupe bug (during the beta); the release of the full version of RuneScape II (knowing if the full version wasn't released, I could have grown to level 85 mining in 37 hours, as opposed to 108 in rs2); making my first mil gp by selling my friend a red mask; getting my red party hat, then losing it.

Certifications

The following are certifications I have completed the requirements to be recognized for.

BrainBench





My Award Winning Short Story:

R E V O K I N G
C A R T E - B L A N C H E

While we live in subjugation and squalor, he lives in flagrant opulence. While we scavenge for morsels to feed our starving families, he dines on glorious feasts. While we toil day and night under the watch of ever-vigilant sentries, he derides us from the lofty perch of his darkened abode. He is Lord Baldev. He is the bane of our existence, a hedonistic, bloodsucking, overbearing tyrant; he is the man who is exhausting our land, our spirit: our future. The recently ousted merciless lords of the new monarchy forced him upon us. Yet Baldev remains; his heart is as black as the fiery ashes of hell. We have never reviled a human so deeply.

The pulsating screech of the arcane native Ospreys penetrated the tranquillity of dawn as a dagger through a heart. The Osprey, our deity, is the omnipotent protector of our people. It has been with us for countless seasons, with never its loyalty to bring in the new day waning. Moments after its screeching subsided, the village bustled into life, if it could still be called life; mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers all preparing for an arduous days labour in the fields under the supervision of Baldev's sentries, with their rawhide whips and jagged halberds. Before Baldev, we were a close community, devoid of mêlée and dispute. Now, however, arguments broke out with a frequency befitting those of Baldev's quarters. The lush and fertile land we once lived off now lay desolate and arid, picked clean by the putrid hands of the lord. The beauty that our village once was had been replaced by the hell that it now is. Though Baldev's hold over our lifestyle is palpable, no one has the valour to challenge him; we had all conceded the intense sensation of unqualified defeat. Due to this terrible existence we now, for the most part, have to live off each other and the traders who frequently traverse our village, as that is all we have left.

The season of extreme frost had come and gone, the wintry tundra masking the village had thawed, and the bands of nomadic traders were returning. The villagers pursue these merchants in hopes of purchasing rudiments such as sandals, tools, assorted garments and other desirable items reminiscent of a time long since gone. This time, there was something different about the group; an odd feeling seemed to hang around them. Securely veiled amidst the horde of habitual traders wandering through the town centre, was a man of a recondite nature. The manner in which his billowing, otherworldly robes shrouded his physique made him almost aphotic; it was as if no solid being existed beneath the mans darkened exterior. The otherworldly man slowly drifted from the crowd, making his way to the now dilapidated village tavern.

The moment the man entered, a mood of foreboding appeared to permeate the souls of the occupants. All noise suddenly extinguished, his mere appearance suspending us in fright.
"Do not fear," he declared in a soft, yet rumbling pitch while surveying the pub's inhabitants, "I have been sent by the Sentinels to bring peace to this village."
While the younger of us were dumbfounded, murmurs of sheer incredulity resonated amongst the elders, "The Sentinels have not approached us for centuries; enlighten us with their call." To that, the otherworldly man gracefully raised his arm, stretched out his palm and uttered a handful of famed words: "Ex polus nos adveho, per populus nos altivolus," Latin for 'from the heavens we come, with the people we soar;' it was the call of the Osprey, the Sentinels. A bright emerald-green flash rapidly illuminated the tavern, followed by what, unbelievably, appeared to be an aurora consuming the space above us. For a few fleeting moments, the unmistakeable screech of the Osprey resounded throughout the tavern, the majestic contour of our deity soaring amidst the vivacity of the aurora before disappearing in a flicker of dazzling light. The pub's occupants were in momentary awe, and then one villager spoke.
"H-how?" stuttered one of the occupants, still feeling slightly perturbed by the otherworldly man's appearance, "how c-can p-peace be brought to our village?"
He responded with such an inspired oration, the likes of which has naught been heard by our people for centuries; it was as though the mere resonance of his words would free us of Baldev's shackles. His words also roused emotions that had long since been oppressed by Baldev's callous governance, leaving us with a collective sense of vitality.

The next few days saw our newfound vitality surreptitiously reaching each family in the village, as though an epidemic was passing through town. Taking care not to arouse suspicion of the sentries, the men and young lads tentatively gathered metallic tools, mud bricks, and stones, stockpiling them in dugouts beneath their huts. Dusk was settling on the eve of the vernal equinox, the sky was tinted a dazzling cobalt blue to the east and a deep vermillion to the west. The village's ambiance of profound liveliness was strengthened by the flight of the Osprey from west to east, epitomizing the dawn of a new age for our people. The sentries were returning to the castle for a traditional celebration with Baldev when we ambushed them, hurling mud bricks and pelting stones at them. Seizing their whips and halberds, we returned to the tavern where the remainder of the village had gathered.

It was time: time to take back our freedom. Led by the otherworldly man, we collected our armaments and hid in the shadows by the entrance of Baldev's quarters. After a few minutes, it seemed Baldev had realised his sentries had not yet returned from the village. As he passed through the gateway, we surrounded him, every man clutching a whip, halberd, scythe or hammer.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Baldev in an enraged tone.
"The Sentinels have bestowed these villagers with the inner fortitude to realise your transgression and revolt against you!" bellowed the otherworldly man. "There's a stake in your fat black heart and the villagers never liked you. Your tyranny must stop now! Leave, or we will make you leave."
Everyone roared in agreement, shaking Baldev to the core; his stout, darkened face turned as pale as the moon. An air of transient despair seemed to radiate around him. Then, without warning, he flung himself through the crowd and disappeared into the darkness.

Baldev affected all aspects of our culture. Now his reign is over, we can breathe easy; we can reclaim our freedom and begin the process of rebuilding our culture. We will fortify the boundaries of our village and our souls. We will stay close and strong. We will regain control over our land, our spirit, our future.

© Ben_Goten78 2006+

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