[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=b8860b]Reginald Keystone[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/8dc58e9c-1548-4a96-8184-e838e475e422.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=darkgoldenrod][b]Location:[/b][/color] Athribis (Underground)
[color=b8860b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] Observation [/center][hr][hr]

	Having completed the monologue of a tired, battle-tossed soldier, Reginald looked forward to the area in front of them, now representing the only recourse of travel open to the group. Things seemed increasingly tense, which made perfect sense considering that this cheerful little side quest of their happy, adventurous boatride up the Nile had probably just damned them, even after it might have just claimed the life of their guide. Reginald did not like the explanation given for any of these phenomena, though at present was willing to go along with things as the were because of a continued lack of anything other pertinent to do. 

	That was when the smell finally came to him, or rather, back to him after the big change to their surroundings. A thing well known to him from his decades and decades fighting for the Crown an on behalf of the Empire. It was the price for the glory of battle, such as glory could be pulled from a battle in most instances; recently become more prevalent because of the use of poison gasses bearing certain chemical compounds derived from or containing it. It and the sickly pallor of the ill and soon to expire. It was the odor of war and old death, of burning sulphur dioxide in a rich stew of other irritants and sickly concoctions. [color=b8860b]"Brimstone..."[/color] he mused aloud. There were other people to worry about down here, rather than just himself. [color=b8860b]"We must get a move on, and quickly."[/color] Perhaps an understatement. Definitely on everyone's mind. Still needed to be vocalized. 

[hider=Roll Request]
Characters current location: Athribis, Underground
Characters attempted actions: Remaining alert
Any and all skills being used: Observation
Why each skill is being called: Dangerous situation, keeping eyes and ears open
Desired location: Along for the ride.
[/hider]

[center][hr][hr][h1][i][b][color=bdb76b]Haring Reddish[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/f00cb42d-37a1-4194-bdd2-9a6b0b4ec02f.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=darkkhaki][b]Location:[/b][/color] Benha (Sun Deck) 
[color=bdb76b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr]

	Again, only marginally satisfied that the boat remained untampered with while the entire world around them was changing, Reddish's mind went back to his primary training as a soldier. It was a default, granted; a sort of security blanket for when things began to get unpredictable and dangerous. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, granted, as there were very few security blankets that trained one in close quarters combat and the use of repeating rifles, let alone gave him experiences that had fractured and re-mended bits of his sanity enough that horrifying, sweeping changes to his environment and/or the wanton desecration of the human body (by bullet, blade, artillery, explosion, or the ravages of scavengers and decomposition) so that when terror-inspiring things did occur around him, his psyche had become desensitized enough to have formed a callous against it all. The nightmares and occasional bits of social anxiety were (albeit arguably) worth it, as he was less fazed than those with whom he kept company. 

	But to point, the last time all hell was breaking loose around him, he had options. None of them were very good options, but you did what you had to do. Here, there were actually fewer options available than when he was in the Great War. He took in a deep breath, blew it out, and spoke. [color=bdb76b]"Ladies, if I may?"[/color] he began sweetly, beaming a little smile that looked just a little bit like he was holding back a torrent of some unpredictable emotional state, [color=bdb76b]"Let us review. Hmm... Whilst off doing our part to continue the archaeological pursuit and follow up of what's been about with our collective missing goods, things start a'glowing on your bodies, yes? Yes. Now, [i]just as soon a that happens[/i] everything changes, like it's years gone by, one direction or another, and a [i]lost bloody city[/i] up and magics itself out of the desert."[/color] He shrugs, giving a goofy little smile and a head bob, like he was a puppet trying to entertain an easily amused toddler. [color=bdb76b]"Bear with now, please - and [i]shadows[/i] are coming out from it, regardless of where the sun is in the bloody sky [i]NOW[/i] I can't be the only one who's thinking we ought to prepare for the worst, before whatever is [i]there[/i] comes [i]here[/i]."[/color] 

	[color=bdb76b]"Though so long as we're asking what that smell is, I'd say it's someone [i]ripping profound arse[/i]..."[/color] He'd gotten a little caught up in the moment, and just realized that he'd made a rather lowbrow reference to someone expelling post-digestive gasses without an ounce of shame. He quickly tried to recover, [color=bdb76b]"Hoooo. Um, a, ah... arse-enal! Yes, a profound [i]arsenal[/i] of sulphur, I'd wager."[/color] Yes, smashing. Quick, to change the subject: [color=bdb76b]"And no, I've no recollection of any of the staff of this [i]fine[/i], fine vessel on our way back. P'raps it's just the soldier in me talking, but I say we get to personal stores and our provisioning in Cargo and equip ourselves for every conceivable eventuality. It could just be the four of us left, and we must look out for one another, wot bloody wot."[/color] 

	That last part probably went too far. Further, Reddish knew full well that he being more assertive than his social status should politely allow in the circumstances, for the people he was with. [color=bdb76b]"I [i]sincerely apologize[/i] for speaking out of turn, and among my betters, but I shan't have opportunity to apologize and flog myself for my transgressions if we're all done in by forces unnatural."[/color]