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Recent Statuses

16 days ago
Current If you don't have a clue, you can still resort to glue in order to fix things.
3 likes
17 days ago
IBANs have proven not to be annoying enough. Let's kill both metric and imperial systems by expressing everything in Planck units.
1 like
24 days ago
Where's a whip, there's a way!
1 like
2 mos ago
I don't know where to even start when it comes to just how ruined my weekend has just become.
1 like
2 mos ago
Having jaw ache due to a lymphatic node swelling ain't fun.
2 likes

Bio


Welcome to my profile page!


Who the hell is this person behind those many miles of fiber optics and copper cable ?

  • I'm a 34 year old guy.
  • ... who's working as a software developer
  • ... and enjoys roleplaying as a casual hobby to distract himself from ongoing stress


And into which hell will I descend with you participating in one of my roleplays?

  • I'm a fantasy addict: medieval high and low!
  • I'd consider myself to be a low casual roleplayer, 3 paragraphs per post on average.
  • My schedule varies. It might happen that I won't be able to post at all for a week, but then again it might happen that I'll reach a sweet spot inside which I can go on a posting rampage. I'd say one can expect 1-2 posts a week from me, depending on the lengths involved.
  • English is not my native language, but so far I've not encountered anyone who had had trouble with me over that :)


Want to RP with me ? Shoot me a PM, but don't shoot me!



Thanks for visiting!

Most Recent Posts

Fyr looked at his axe for an instant as he realized that he had just lost his family heirloom a second time right now. It was only a tiny bit of hestitation however as way too many things were happening just now all around him, including a sword directly aimed at him.

It seemed though that the man wielding it experienced an equal amount of misfortune. The blade missed though it still came very uncomfortably close to Fyr's skin.

Bereft of his primary weapon due to his very own actions, Fyr reached for the spear he had obtained from the demonfolk back in that ugly cave and pushed the long weapon forward towards the second assassin.



The metal tip punched what looked like all the way through the man's thigh and, once Fyr started to pull back, started to exhibit some quite asymmetric behavior. In other words it acted as sort of a barbed hook and caused even more bloody destruction in the process. That leg would not work again anytime soon and, assuming that radical treatment wasn't applied very rapidly, would probably pull the rest of the man's life down with it. At least that was how Fyr thought.
Týfurkh


Týfurkh, once in the private quarters that had been assigned to him and Jen, couldn't help but find the degree of smell emanating from the other man to be rather disturbing. He didn't mention it though for he had plenty of reason to assume that he himself wasn't in any better state. With the sweat of the men combined however, the olfactory aspect of the air inside the room quickly ascended to a level of potential mass destruction. Good thing that they both had probably become relatively immune to it already. Even if not though, using the bath tub was not a viable option: Given the 'art' of food prep they all had witnessed already, Týfurhk would not really have been surprised if the servants had mixed up fresh, hot water with water taken from the sewers. That was assuming that this place actually had sewers, however...

After having put down his armor and other gear in order to don some light, textile clothing, Týfurkh had trouble falling asleep. Chres' familiar whizzed through his thoughts just as she did through the air for real. The incident at the dinner table had lowered the bar in terms of Sil's accountability a lot further and he couldn't get rid of the thought that something more... serious ?... might happen in the future. Good thing for him he didn't witness Sil's mishap with the water bucket!

His head ached and the dim light coming in through the window was still too much to spare his eyes from some pain as they tried to adapt, coming from the complete darkness they had just been in with their lids closed. Wasn't this Lord Ru'Tev even able to arrange for some ruckus in the middle of the night not happening ? Or was this even the middle of the night already ? Týfurkh didn't know. He could only hear some male voice distorted by the walls and corridors it had to get through along with the dampened trampling of feet. Not suspecting anything malicious at first, he didn't want to wake up Jen and tried to get out of the bed as carefully as possible in order to have a look outside.

With the door open, he could hear much more clearly. These were Karina's and Chres' voices accompanied by the sound of fists and weapons clashing! He shut the door firmly again immediately, his heartbeat taking a sudden jump. There were no bars or anything else installed, at least not from the inside, so the only way of locking the door was to block it with something else.

"Jen! Jen! Wake up! We've been set up and need to fight!" He needed some moments to get his gear ready and assumed that Jen would be happy about some slight preparation as well, so while shouting, Týfurkh started moving some spare furniture he could find towards the door. The last thing they needed now were some assassins stumbling inside while they were still half asleep. Needless to say that this action created a lot of noise to wake up the other man, too.
"If you wish, I could certainly show you a trick or two." Valentin offered, though deep inside him he knew that this far from an entirely altruistic offer. He just really hated having to defend somebody else that wasn't him as well and, from what they both had heard so far, this mission was bound to include some serious trouble. Experience dictated that way and he had learned not to toss his own gut feelings into the wind.

Finding the way out proved to be a lot easier than the other way around, but only due to the fact that they could always use the look out of the next window in order to orient themselves and find the most likely route back into the courtyard again. The soldiers there had apparently undergone some sort of shift change, but Mr. Reinhardt made his presence still felt by snorting at them. Halfway unconsciously, Valentin reached for Amara's hand in an attempt to drag her along a tad more quickly in order to get away from the man's unnerving presence.

"So, all of this sounded to me like we don't have much time at our disposal. What do you think about grabbing our supplies and meeting at the stables again ? Given the smell I'd imagine they're over there..." and he gestured towards a wooden addendum built adjacently to the main wall surrounding the courtyard. There were obvious signs of many hooves tramping the ground around it.
Fyr barely had enough time to raise his hands as a protective barrier in front of his face before the blast hit them all. He was partly thrown over the table, partly rolling himself across it in an attempt to build some distance even as disaster already was in progress. The result was a bleeding nose or at least that was what he could diagnose himself given the lack of time -- there was probably more he couldn't feel yet. And of course he picked up plenty of weeks, if not even months old dirt from other people's shoes as he hit the ground hard.

Great! He had hardly been given the opportunity to get rid of demonfolk blood splattered over his chest and now he was already struck by bloody scraps of intestines again! That was not to mention a few pieces of broken glass from the many bottles that had also suffered. Had the greatest pirate off all time's stare just been way too intense and energetic or had that really been a boob bomb giving everybody goose bumps ? This tavern was a damn booby trap! The sound of more footsteps came closer and a distinct and no less eerie glow could already been seen reflecting slightly from where the floor was actually polished, so quick action was in dire need.

Where had his trusty family heirloom gone ? It was quite the heavy thing, but the explosion had displaced it considerably still. Fyr was on the verge of launching himself towards it, then felt a foreign hand touching his shoulder. He heard Arthur's voice over the chaos around them, some words he couldn't understand at least verbally. Yet the unfamiliar warmth beneath his nose decayed, the bleeding was no more and so some of the other things he hadn't even been aware of yet. A very short appreciative nod was all Fyr could return before the other man's attention was drawn elsewhere again though.

So now to retrieve and use a proper weapon, finally! Only now Fyr's vision skimmed across the remainer of the room: This was not a slaughterhouse, but an extreme caricature of such! He rubbed the axe's handle against the nearest piece of halfway clean cloth he could find. It looked like some now dead man's clothes, but he needed a firm grip not weakened by blood acting as a lubricant. Five hostiles were there, three acting as backup while two apparently thought nobody would stumble across the idea that they might have more than a dagger each at their disposal.

No, certainly not after this overture! It would be them who'd be cleaved in two, not even more innocent patrons!

Fyr felt a big stone rolling off his heart when his exlanation of how things happened apparently was accepted. Fighting against all of those simutalenously ? Would definitely not have been easy to say the very least! He wasn't so sure though about whether challening the thug's traning scheme had been such a good idea because now they had an open invitation to make him their new training supervisor. Dealing with these thugs for a longer term was not exactly the prospect Fyr had been looking out for.

Aside from that though, this Oasis and its town actually started to look better in his eyes than before. Dal and Ashe made a quite good job at entertaining people and he could see and hear coins being tossed towards them. Maybe the greatest pirate of all times was the greatest entertainer of all times instead, but didn't want to admit it ? Fyr made a quick mental note about using this as a means to tease the man when needed, then opted to choose his drink: The first bottle looked as if containing either very fluid honey or fermented camel pee if that was a thing. The second bottle was a massive flask made out of intransparent glass, its contents unknown until poured. The third one had just been put onto the stove so to make its contents vent steam. Some sort of tea, perhaps ?

"I... take the second one. I like things that look as dark and abysmal as my heart!" he tried to make a joke to reinvigorate himself.

And what kind of liquor came out of that black hole of a bottle! The barmaid had barely taken off the cork when the air already seemed to be replaced by something tormenting and flammable. What was this ? Pure alcohol mixed with fresh tar from the pits or had the inhabitants of this desert figured out something even more radical ? Yet now there he was, surrounded by thugs and with at least half of them grinning as they eagerly expected their newcomer to start drinking what probably was both harmless and a significant achievement in terms of destillery once one managed to get past its revolting stage.

Fyr took the first gulp and it felt like lava flowing down his esophagus. The thugs were cheering while he thought that his vision had just became slightly blurry. And... wait... what was that ? As Fyr shook his head in a futile attempt to get rid of the drink's initial side effects on the unaccustomed, he inevitably got the rest of the counter into his view again. Was there really a naked woman standing around or had his mind started to fail ? It was at this point when Fyr actually felt thankful for the thugs being there for some of them shared his own, slightly bewildered expression in spite of having made a different choice of drink.

So this was real!

"Hey you!" Fyr's voice was loud enough to be picked up easily and the horizontally arranged trunk that was his muscle-laden arm pointing at the woman should be seen easily enough as well. In theory, that was! "Could you be a bit less daring, perhaps ?" That was not a question, more of a demand.

Fyr blinked several times, but the slightly blurry vision didn't go away. Still he had the gut feeling that something else was going on. Had the thugs cheated him by making him drink a poison or the like ?

"How can you even think about this not being an accident ?"

Fyr had trouble holding back the disdain he almost instantly felt for what he saw. This king of gangs, they only rarely occured where he came from yet here they had had to run into one of them right away. Curse this bad luck!

"First of all, it was your friend who challenged me for a round of arm wrestling and not the other way round, and he had plenty of opportunity to look at whom he was dealing with. Second, I think we all agree that any participant in arm wrestling is supposed to deliver as much strength as is necessary in order to defeat his opponent, right ? And last but not least it's a matter of fact that one can only exert as much force on someone's arm as said arm is able to resist, any more than that and the arm starts dropping to the table and the game is over. So..."

Fyr sighed slightly before coming to what he hoped to be the ultimate conclusion:

"... in essence, your friend had enough strength to break his own bone. That can happen if one's focused too much on looking bulky and not doing what's needed for the rest of the body to catch up and deliver real strength."

At this point, he couldn't resist prodding the injured man gently with his index finger.

"Can be dangerous for the heart, too! Arm wrestling puts some serious stress on that as well. So maybe you should keep looking after him for a little longer ?"

He really would have liked to tell this gang leader exactly the same thing for the man seemed to fall into the very same category of 'it's all on the surface' in his eyes, but didn't dare to do so just in case that would enrage all of them.

"Is this explanation acceptable ? I haven't eaten well for weeks and am half starved, so I could really use the gold coins I've earned right now!"

Valentin could feel both the officer's and Amara's eyes rest on him briefly, too briefly for him to get behind the reason for that, but also briefly enough for him not to bother with that awkwardness any further once it had ended.

"Once very two weeks. This seemingly rather relaxed schedule has been chosen because we got two important things to consider here: First of all you might end up in a quite remote region where distances a long and poopulation is sparse, and secondly every time you make contact with us in order to report back, we all run the risk of you being followed and tracked by other persons we are competing with so to speak."

Valentin turned his head to the side to toss a glance at Amara, wondering what she thought about that. He himself was very blunt about that soon enough: "So I hope you can fight well."

"Like said, don't expect any significant reinforcements from our side. We need for all of this to stay under cover."

"So can we leave now ?" Frankly speaking, Valentin had started to become bored by this all too formal conversation. They had the parchments and they had the instructions, so what else required them to stay here any longer ?

"Yes. I do not have anything more to add unless you have any further questions ?"

"I do not. You, Amara ?" As he spoke, Valentin already lifted himself off the chair and took the liberty to have a brief walk through the officer's room towards the window into the courtyard. Soldiers training could still be seen down below -- good thing he didn't have to endure that. With one ear he still listened to whatever exchange of words Amara and the officer might have.
Fyr

Fyr did not exactly feel well as he listened to Lapis' proposal. On one hand he knew that they just had to come to some sort of agreement after the sheer amount of hospitality the woman had already given them, but on the other hand he didn't like the word 'loot'. Just at this point had he or Ashe pointed out that they were some sort of scavenging adventurers digging through people's still warm corpses in order to pick up their former property ? Or was this all Dalious' fault ? Fyr had no trouble imagining the pirate telling stories about both his own greatness and that of being a freelancing enterpreneur of the very special kind.

"I will be happy to share whatever kind of coin I will make on our ways with you, knowing that I have to redeem myself for your services offered." Fyr replied after a brief moment of thinking, hoping that this was the kind of answer that was both honest and abstract enough not to raise some crude expectations he didn't really like. Sitting on the chair was seemed to be relatively close to the brink of collapse, Fyr watched how Ashe and Dalious had already gone much further than just enjoying their first drink like he did.

Having some shadow shining onto one's scalp was a nice thing after having spent days openly exposed on a camel. Speaking of the latter, Fyr had to remind himself about asking for the coins he had earned when winning Ashe's bet. One first step towards paying Lapis! He looked forward to having a bath that would wash away what bloody remainders of demonfolk still hung on to either his skin or his clothes and maybe there'd even be a trustworthy blacksmith around in this settlement he could ask for a wheatstone for his trusty axe...

Halfway into his ale though, Fyr's relaxation was disturbed by the floor vibrating beneath the steps of a large male approaching him. One of the thugs he had seen right when entering the main hall it seemed and the individual spoke up to him right away: "Hey! You look like someone who could outdo all the petty competition here! Want to fight me ?"

Fyr dropped his ale back on the table and looked at the male in an irritated manner. "Fight ? Here ? Why should I be that dumb ?"

He earned a burst of laughter from both the male and the other thugs at the counter who had heard him as well. "Oh! Our man from the north apparently doesn't know what we mean when we say 'fight' here!" Fyr's conversational partner subsequently made a gesture imitating the typical moves involved when arm wrestling and he finally understood.

"Oh... Well, if you want! What's the stake ?"

"Two. Real gold!"

The other thugs at the counter had gotten moving towards another table that had been vacant so far. They started cleaning it from the remains of a previous and apparently quite lavish meal, but they did it so hastily that it earned them a quite sceptical look and other signs of profound disapproval from the barmaiden. Fyr was gestured towards said table then and took a seat there, facing his opponent.

With the thugs' friends surrounding the table and watching, there was little too see for the rest of the tavern. The excited cheers could be easily heard though as the duel dragged on and on. Would Fyr win or would his lose the coin he had earned from Ashe's bet again right away ?



The cheering and shouting was drowned out by a bursting scream all of a sudden as something important gave way. Fyr himself could only watch in shock as all of the resistance his bulging arm had been facing vanished too quickly for him to reduce the amount of force exerted. The thug's hand slammed onto the table very hard as it was no longer experiencing proper support from the arm it belonged to and its owner was in obvious, great pain.

"That cheater! He must be a berserker... all on weird herbs and mushrooms! He broke my wrist!"

"You don't even have the slightest idea!" Fyr snapped back, raising from his chair in a near instant as he anticipated some sort of escalation. "You just lost! How could I have known you're weaker inside that you look outside ? Also it was you who challenged me and not the other way round!"

The small band of thugs became quite loud and agitated now, discussing about something like a 'code of honor' among them and that 'a bet was a bet'. And of course they looked at and inspected their companion's mishap with as much medical (in-)competence as they could muster. Fyr didn't even want to look at it, but found himself surprisingly alone now in spite of still standing so close to the scene. His eyes searched for Ashe, Dal and Lapis hoping that they could help him or the situation somehow.
Týfurkh

Had it not been Tayla, Týfurkh might not have made the decision to risk personal contact with the food in fromt of him after the statement she had made. Since it was Tayla however he just had to take a sample himself in order to make sure it was really as bad as she claimed it was, because Tayla had already proven to be a person without even the slightest amount of respect or decency.

He reached for the knife -- or rather for the petty piece of sheet metal that was barely more sharp than, let's say, the piece of butter it was supposed to slice through --, and made the honest attempt to cut away a chunk of flesh small enough to fit into his mouth. It remained an attempt though as the dried flesh could hardly be impressed by a tool whose design had been watered down by excruciating security measures against the divergence, so in the end Týfurkh just used the fork to rip off a piece by means of sheer force.

And how certainly he soon wished he hadn't! He managed to stop himself saying this publically, but his facial expression made clear there probably was more water to be found in the desert sand than in this piece of charcoal hiding behind his closed lips now.

"I... will try some of the wine."

Quick! Before this piece of meat would balloon and get stuck in his mouth or even worse his throat forever! Týfurkh poured the red liquor into his wine glass rapidly and swallowed one large gulp without even really taking the time to taste properly, but that didn't stop the aftermath from impacting him. The man grimaced as if he had just swallowed a handful of raw pepper.

"I think they might refine the recipe and put more poison into it next time. Might make it more... how shall I say... enjoyable ?"

That evening was pretty much ruined. If it wasn't a problem with the cook but with food here in the divergence in general, Týfurkh knew they either had to get out or starve to death quickly. What hit him even more though was the thought that all of those living inside the divergence must already have grown accustomed to this sort of horrible food or otherwise they would not be here anymore.

Then, he turned his attention to Sil whose failed attempt to hit him with some mashed potatoes had not gone unnoticed.

"How about we just don't eat this food but cook our own ? The supply of bread, meat and wine might not be the most favorable here, but let's not forget that we brought some much more reliable sources of meat along ourselves!"

A sheepish grin appeared on Týfurkh's face and now he started looking at Chres' familiar, too.

"Personally I do enjoy raw meat as well, so we might even be able to bypass the entire process of cooking and thus deny the divergence any opportunity to mess things up again. Think about it... Ripping off some of those tasty, juicy wings and digging into that dilicious muscle! Or this well trained tongue! Peppered and salted by years of foul words spilling all over it! Delicious!"

Týfurkh raised himself from his chair and reached out across the table towards Sil in one quick move, trying to grab the familiar. Of course he had not the slightest intention to actually use Sil as a food source, but if Sil thought he could provoke him at any moment no matter how inappropriate, then he could have back some of the shock as well!

"You will make for one big, dilicious puddle, Sil!"
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