POOHEAD189

The Pavonis Campaign - Warhammer 40000

His ribs ached like absolute hell, but the medicae had done a thorough job. In fact, he had found an emblem of the Orders Hospitaller next to his bed, once the Catachan left. He couldn't have been in better hands, unless the Emperor himself appeared and healed him with a wave of his hand. He wondered what warranted the special treatment, but he felt in the pit of his stomach the reasoning. He had done some gak-brained maneuvers out there, but somehow he had been blessed with keeping his life. The Imperium likely wanted him out on the front lines as soon as possible so he could keep at it.

"I'd rather Katia find me wanting." He said, using the polite term for front-line commissar execution. He doubted he was through with the military, but they had always fed him some lines of working your way up the ranks to get a safer posting. Hopefully that was soon.

He used his crutches to vault over the doorline, entering into the scholam-turned command center. Zeb's dark thoughts fled him as soon as he saw Hagman, Skald, and Rikkard coming up the back. He wished Prax was there, but the grief wouldn't wash over him just now. At least some of them had made it out a live. They greeted him and messed his hair playfully, some acting as if they had lasguns even now, hipfiring to mock his exploits from the other day. After some ribbing, Katia approached. Zeb sobered up, clearing his throat.

Whenever Katia walked, people looked. The squeaky stand that followed her, feeding her an IV somehow did not diminish the cold, powerful look. Though without her greatcoat, she did look far more womanly. She raised an eyebrow, as if she could read his mind and found the thought unsatisfactory.

"Sergeant Connors." She said tartly.

"Commissar Petrovska." He said, and truth be told, he was glad she was alive. "You look well."

"As do you. Well enough to see the colonel, in fact."

Zeb blanched. "What?"

She pulled the IV out of her arm as if it were a small nuisance, tossed it aside and tied her long hair into a bun, before grabbing her hat and solidly planting it on her head. "We're due in five minutes. Follow me. Men? Keep an eye on the place, will you?"

Cinnabar Forever! (RCN)

The Vickie jumped out of system without delay. Kaiden felt his plan going off without a hitch initially, which meant the gasket that would inevitably blow would be that much bigger, if his past luck was anything to go by. He'd gone off the map of his reality, having commandeered a vessel, both civilian in a sense, yet hostile in another. But Higgs and the rest had leapt to stations at his call and it appeared they had all settled into this new reality. More than likely as long as they were kept busy, it seemed business as usual to them. Kaiden often sneered at the aristocratic notion that the upper classes having the 'real' burdens of society, which was his main motivation for joining the military and insisting on no favors from his family. However, he did feel that might be an inkling of truth in his heart of hearts. The idea that all of this was happening on his command was...unsettling. The ship had roared internally before bursting out of their current location.

"Higgs, give us 5 degrees left of the current location of MX-2341's moon from our position." Kaiden remarked.

"Done, sir!" He cried. Kaiden swiveled his head to his right and saw Tilda amongst the men, shapely legs crossed on a chair and professional, albeit sly look in her eyes. Kaiden didn't have the time to pay too much attention to it and barked again.

"Steady as she goes, we want the Nestor to follow us without being left behind."

Tilda spun in her chair and rose, plucking the pen from behind her ear and approaching Kaiden. She wore a smart suit and a pencil skirt that hugged her form, but to Kaiden's chagrin she always wore clothing just professional enough to not warrant comment. She glided over and stood with him, flipping the cover off a small notepad. "Lieutenant Caladwarden, feel free to answer in your own time." She began as a disclaimer, before he complained now wasn't the time. "So how does it feel to be spear heading Cinnibar's efforts into a new galactic conflict?"

"Oh, it's thrilling. I've dreamed of this since I was a boy." He said, albeit sardonically.

"Can I quote you on that?" She asked neutrally.

"Absolutely not. Harwen! Bushman! Look lively!"

"Might I remind you, you're the one who brought me on here." She said.

"Might I remind you that many things have changed since then. You're quite lucky I did not leave you on the base." He admitted.

"And why didn't you?"

"Because I felt you would wait for this until after my shift." He said, using 'shift' as the layman might, unable to be humrously charming to an attractive woman, even when annoyed. She snickered, but added: "This is the greatest story in a century, I figured I would ask your thoughts as they were occurring."

"I will hold my 'thoughts' and when we reconvene with Lieutenant Hickoring, we can give a report together if she so wishes. Danzetti, realign us for entry!"

Heyo! (might be rlly long-)

Nice to meet you!

Pirates - Ye Be Warned

"Sorry for not listening," The Captain said, though it was said so casually he knew she wasn't actually apologizing. Not that he was expecting it, anyway.

"I might be a thief, but I'm an honest thief." He said with little satisfaction. He had the uncomfortable feeling that he was in a story, and he was nearing the end of the novel. Just around the time the entire band of pirates was eaten alive by the amphibious creatures below in some dark ritual to their heathen god. From this vantage point, he could see the beasts far more clearly now, though they were still quite far away.

Their heads and necks were serpentine, though it was difficult to tell if they resembled eels or some snake-like barracuda. The sinuous neck was connected to a crab-like carapace, and Galt could not tell if that was some armor they had made, or a soft shell that grew naturally on their forms. Their legs were missing, instead their large bodies were propelled by massive tails, but their arms and hands were undeniably humanoid, albeit reptilian and with four fingers instead of five, at least if Galt's eyes did not deceive him.

"We need to find the men," Galt concluded, seeing at least forty of the creatures either patrolling or... he did not know. Some congregated in small groups and conversed or chanting, it was impossible to tell.

Jess grabbed his shirt with a strong hand and pulled him down to her level by the collar, their noses touching as she glared at him. "Shut up." She said, and then pushed him away, turning to make her way over to the trail that led down the mountainside, pronouncing: "We need to find the men."

The feeling to push her off the cliff crept in his mind, but he quelled the urge and followed her. "Yes, Captain."

Cinnabar Forever! (RCN)

The engagement was over before it had begun.

The Vickie was generally judged as no match for an alliance cruiser, even though Kaiden would claim the crew could take on any opponent. But even if the Vickie was under a different crew, the merchant vessel wouldn't have stood a chance. They had laid in wait, and as soon as the vessel was 120,000 kilometers off, they approached bearing their guns. The Vickie usually had twenty missiles, but they could only restock five after arriving at Delta-3-7, which gave them a grand total of 13. However, they had 4-inch plasma cannons in turrets on the dorsal bow and ventral stern, giving her four guns in total. Fairly average for a corvette of its size, but easily able to outmatch any merchant vessel in what they had assumed had been a clear shipping lane.

"Bring them in Higgs," Kaiden said, turning from his vigil on the bridge.

The surly Bosun opened the hatch. Tilda sat chewing on a pen, watching with interest as the captain of the merchant vessel The Nestor was brought in under guard. Kaiden guessed he had a kind face when going about his daily business, but he looked more grave than he likely had in years, thinking he was about to be executed or sent to some unforeseeable doom. Kaiden wanted to dispell his worries immediately, saluting the man as if he was a peer.

"Greetings Captain. First Lieutenant and acting Captain of the Viceroy Kaiden Caladwarden. I apologize for the need to requisition your vessel, but you have my word you nor your crew will be harmed if you follow our orders accordingly."

"Acting Captain?" He asked curiously, then noticed the Prince was gazing at him expectantly. The striking blue of Kaiden's eyes was always captivating or commanding, in whichever situation suited him. "Er, yes. Captain Dobbs of the Nestor. I hope you know what you're doing Lieutenant, you could very well have started a war, you realize."

Kaiden hid a smirk. Either the merchantman did not know, or wanted to play dumb. Either way, he wasn't going to grant him an inch. "We'll see. Let's work together to make sure that does not happen, shall we? Now, if you follow my Bosun, he will show you and your crew to your quarters for the time being. Except for three handpicked by me to help navigate your ship."

Pirates - Ye Be Warned

Wilderness, including beachside terrain, was not his specialty. But the guild had drilled him for most situations, and Galt was nothing if not resourceful. He trudged up the hot beach, the white sand scalding and even now seeping into his boots in small pinches. He was glad he had been given a different garb than the usual black. At the current moment he looked more like a deckhand, brown breeches and a tanned linen shirt, unbuttoned to help with the heat. He still wore his 'work' boots and kept his belt, with the clever pockets one could sequester away poisons and other, more pragmatic tools for on the job.

He was not entirely sure why she trusted him to go with her, but after thinking for a moment, he guessed it was smart for her to keep an eye on him. She was clearly a bit more clever than most of her crew, she didn't want Galt giving them the slip or undermining her in some way. He had to admit he might have thought to do either, but after the whole 'ghost' attack, he just felt glad he was traveling with mortals who could get him to the mainland at some point.

As Jess finished lashing the ropes together, Galt peered into the dense jungle. It was overgrown and filled with long shadows and bright spears of light, concealed further and further as the layers of the trees came into view.

"Is there a cutlass for me?" He asked her as she finished tying the knot. Her men had already stamped north up the beach, their laughter and guttural curses fading into the wind.

"Not on your life," She said casually, unsheathing her own broad bladed sword.

"Yeah, I suppose that is the gist of it." Galt replied, stepping aside so she had room to hack apart a vine. As the blade separated the green tendril, Galt imagined the vine coiled away as if it had a mind of its own. The thought brought him back on edge, but Jess boldly strode forward, slashing at any foliage that happened to stand in their way. He did his best to guard her flank, moving aside thicker brush and trying to keep an eye on their tails. The jungle had swallowed up the small path they had made after wading just a dozen meters in. The air was heavy and humid, tight and filled with the scent of wet plants and the pungent odor of pulped vines.

A strange ape with four limbs swung from tree to tree, eagerly trying to avoid our path as it screeched. It gave Galt the impression it was the strangest creature he might see that day, but minutes later a hunting cat the size of a large dog appeared, its fur crimson save for the loud yellow color of its tail, but Galt was unnerved by its milky white eyes. It knew exactly where Jess and he stood, and gave a warning swipe of its claws before slinking back into the wilderness.

After around an hour, Jess wiped the sweat from her brow and leaned against one of the thousands of trees. "This island is bigger than it looks. Hey, make yourself useful and climb up. See how far the mountain is." She ordered.

"Aye Cap'n," Galt replied with his best seadog impression, finally glad he could do something he was good at. The thief took no time in finding a vine and using it as a safety cable as he ascended the tallest tree he could find, climbing fast enough to put the four armed monkey to shame. Briefly he wondered if Jess was impressed, though either because she was a pretty woman or the arbiter of his very life, he did not quite know. He found the canopy and slithered up the tangle of boughs until he reached the top with a yank of his hand on the last branch.

His head poked out of the jungle, meeting the open, cloudless sky. The sun nearly blinded him, but he found respite for his eyes when her turned and almost fell out of the tree from surprise.

The peak loomed above them, just half a kilometer to the north east, bent like an old man stooping to look down on him with disappointment. Well, that was good news at least. He gave a sigh, but his mirth was soon taken from him. He squinted, spying movement along the rock. Some... some humanoid slithered along the rocks, disappearing into a a hole; a cavernous maw at the side of the peak. He felt his heart thunder in his chest, wondering what by the gods he had seen. It was a snake man, or an eel man? Maybe something entirely different, or perhaps it was too far away for him to see a regular man clearly. But then that begged the question, what in the bloody hell any of Jess's crew were doing there?

The professional rogue decided to climb down and tell her about it.

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

The afterbirth of rain? That is quite the metaphor :P

@Penny

Hey, a smelly rancid alleyway requires colorful description

Narrator: But he was, in fact, a medievalist.

Alcander wishes he was on my level

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

Alcander ran his hand over his head, moving the fringe out of his face. He gave Teajay a look and gestured for her to follow.

The alleyway was dirty, as one might expect. The afterbirth of yesterday's rain still clung in small puddles where the rancid liquids of whatever trash had been tossed casually away accumulated in a thick soup. Al idly kicked aside an old can of beer as they approached the dumpsters. He had not expected the heavy objects to be on wheels, but it would have been a welcome sight. Still, he stopped at the first one and leaned left to get a better view inside. Black trashbags and the occasional loose refuse were piled together, but no sign of the black sludge. He sniffed a small, sardonic laugh and rolled up his sleeves.

Alcander set his feet firmly on dry ground, planting his hands against the aluminum siding. The dumpster was not entirely full, so he had confidence he could move it himself. Alcander was wiry, but he had a lean strength to him. A moment passed, and then the deep scraping of metal on concrete screeched, and Alcander grunted as he pushed forward, until he nearly slipped. His foot slid along an strange substance and his knee almost struck the ground, but he caught himself. Al fully expected to look down and see a trail of wet chicken grease, but instead his eyes caught something unexpected.

A small stream of black sludge leading just under the dumpster. But its path stopped right at a small pool of the stuff, staining the hilt of a strange dagger. Alcander stepped away, waving Teajay over.

"Hey, come look at this." He bade her, wiping his lip with the back of his hand. "Ever seen a blade like this before?"

The dagger was a around a foot in length, the steel of the blade almost bluish in coloration. It looked incredibly sharp, wrought in a single edge that smoothly transitioned into a keen stabbing point. The hilt was abyssal black, so dark it was almost impossible to tell where it ended and the sludge began. A small fuller ran down the length of the blade, but it did not look like a modern KABAR or Bowie knife. Alcander was not a medievalist, but it had the look of a thick bladed, single edged rondel dagger.

back to sinning

Welcome to the guild!

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

"You're Imperial, are you not?"

The question was innocuous, but surprising to me nonetheless.

The alderman and I stood outside, drinking a small cup of wine as the sun set and the stars began to blanket the night sky in ubiquitous illumination. It was truly a wonderful sight when you were far away from a large city like Altdorf or one of the many Tilean city states. The few torches lit outside were set about as almost a fashion choice, lighting up the finery alongside buildings and keeping the main crossways alight. It seemed the guards set along the walls had to carry their own light source, some with torches and others with oil lamps. I wondered what utility a lack of structured light was, but no doubt it was for some purpose I had yet to ascertain. For his part, Gregor von Ludendorf had seen the inquisitive look on my face.

I gave him a smile. "Don't act so surprised. I can hear more than a hint of an imperial accent in you, herr Gregor."

His brow raised. The man chewed on something I did not catch him pop into his mouth. "You've got a good ear. I have not thought of myself as a citizen of the empire for years now. I've been in this land, oh... two decades? More? I came here as a refugee like many people."

"I'm certain there are many men and women born in these lands." I said, turning to look back at the greenery, now a deep blue from the long shadows over the land.

"You're right, but when someone is born here, they have a thirst for adventure and a wish to explore, to create! The settled folk are the ones that fled from somewhere else." He explained, and then gave a chuckle. "Unless you're a lord, of course."

"I hear this is the land of opportunity, is it not?" I pondered

"If you could have made your fortune where you came from, you would have. People only come here for a second chance, or to keep their heads on their shoulders. Which are you, herr priest?" He asked pointedly. I turned to regard him again, and not wishing to become too personal, I deflected. Though my mouth always ran away from me.

"Well, I'm always trying to keep my head on my shoulders." I quipped. "As for chances, I had mine and I squandered it, but that is a story for another time."

It would not do to tell him of Camilla and I were lovers. We had not introduced ourselves as such. That would draw too many questions, and we were still so close to Tilea. I doubted there were many itinerant priests who spat in the face of his liege and left the party he was duty bound to protect in order to elope with a beautiful Tilean dancer. The alderman and I shared a few more pleasantries, and he took his leave, wishing to check on his wife and the dinner they were preparing. I had to admit I was nearly famished. Ah! Yes, I needed to make my mark on the house. Tomorrow if someone asked how I quelled the daemonic spirits, I needed something to point to. I gulped down the last bit of my wine and set the cup on the porch, before taking up my staff and and knapsack.

I picked my way around the small garden out front easily enough, deigning to examine the house to sate what small guilt I had lying more than anything else. As I did so, I found I faced the near the back end of Zinoca, where the walls were thick and the traffic was little. Only a few storehouses and outhouses for the workers hugged the wall, with thick trees and foliage hugging the architecture. Even so, it seemed Sigmar was with me. As I looked, I saw a bit of movement. My eyes honed in, wondering why I believed I just saw something drop down the wall without a sound. I stopped, perfectly cloaked by the trees as what I imagined was the same figure flitted from one building to the other, dressed in dark clothing and moving like a serpent.

I found that quite suspicious.

I waited another moment, and then slunk out of the small bit of green between the houses and followed the figure, moving briskly but keeping back and to the shadows to keep my presence unknown. I held my staff like a spear, lower to the ground and ready to strike just in case. Seconds passed to a minute, and suddenly the figure rushed across the street, like a fox not wishing to be run down by an oncoming carriage. Luckily, they had traveled to my side of the street, and I awaited in the shadows. The figure, a man's size, stepped into the alleyway I hid within. Even veiled by dark cloth, I saw their eyes go wide when I stepped into the light.

"Evening," I said, or I tried to. The flash of steel against the light was the only warning I had, but fate had it that my weapon was longer. The head of my staff rammed into their head even as they ducked, but to their credit they recovered swiftly. I spun my weapon to keep him at bay, but they timed their dodge perfectly, ducking and dodging before taking a leap, knife point out to gut me. They had not counted on the butt of my weapon however, and I slid it under their legs like a martial artist from Cathay. The figure tripped, falling to the ground. Even as they spun to try and catch themself, my staff flipped and I helped gravity along, slamming the heavy head of the staff into the back of their head. They hid the street like a sack of potatoes.

Ugh, now I was even hungrier.

I knelt down and took the knife from their nerveless fingers as a precaution, but oddly enough, there was a message wrapped around the hilt. Gingerly I unrolled it, and I gasped.