do we level up? ;)
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- knighthawk 12 yrs ago
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Oso
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10 yrs ago
Current
Been sick last 4 days.
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10 yrs ago
Laptop's wireless is fried, need to take to shop, using friends tablet for now.
10 yrs ago
Cannot post for up to the next 7 days.
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10 yrs ago
BUSY weekend for me, Reno today then valentines weekend.
11 yrs ago
At hospital for the night, no postings.
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Most Recent Posts
Yes.
Sorry! Post I had worked on a few days ago got lost amidst the work, Birthday on the 30th, holoween, housework and now the car...OI!
Posting now.
Posting now.
Mint
Penish watched on at the exchange, silently casting the spells he did know to read the surface thoughts, insight is worth its weight in gold. He waited for the leader to leave before approaching. He kept the safe distance of her reach and her reach again in case she found a cudgel or started practicing her throwing skills.
If she didn't try to brain him, he tried to get close enough to speak softly as far from the guards at the front as he could. There was still the risk of some sort of eavesdropping device, but it would have to be a calculated risk.
"I'm an outsider as is, and you are a bird of a gilded cage. Even if one of us tells on the other, its suspect at best. So, how about half rations, apple and cheese and I'm out of your hair. But, perhaps you can explain to me why he's keeping you. He's keeping me here on promise of new magic to learn. But if all you want is out, and you help me get what I want, I can help you on your way."
Lob
Lob was ignored by the dwarf with her old pack, and now he was sat beside by the shaman of the group. He reached down and pulled out the glowing green stone as the fermented mares milk was given to him in a massive serving bowl. He took it up in both hands to tilt back for guzzling in long lapping gulps before wiping his face on his hairy arms.
"You no like Lob. Many go, you no go. Why stay?"
Any hopes of Lob secretly being a brilliant alcoholic went out the window as he basically drank a whole bottle of wine in a single sitting that others would take to drink just a glass. He set the bowl back down and looked over at the healer and waited for her to respond. He looked over at the dwarf again and tried to understand what they were talking about, but it escaped him at the moment so he looked back to the elf.
Posting...
Anyone willing to listen. ;)
He was late, 'engine trouble' would be the simplest answer. If by engine trouble meaning he had to get two cups of dirt out of the air intake so he didn't throw a rod, then sure. As it was the treaded hearse plowed along at a comfortable speed with minimum kick-up thanks to the dustflaps keeping everything as subtle as can be. As he road, he had one ear jacked into a delightful little device, about the size of a smoke pack and all black. It took the sun and made music, sun there was plenty of, so there was plenty of music for him to listen to as he made his way to the cracked ship.
He wasn't the only one coming so he hoed they wouldn't all be lonely, or nuts. All in all, he arrived with as little ceremony as he could, watching the standoff as if it were nothing new. "Quit trying to see whose is bigger, anyone with a shotgun or rifle is compensating. She's bigger." This is said as he shoulders a shotgun and a rifle over each shoulder and walks the rest of the way into the split vessel. "I've got a crate of shotgun, a crate of rifle, a crate of pistol. A fifty-five of aqua and two hundred MRE. I can take it with me, you can shoot me and take it but I'm taking someone with me. Or I can leave it here and we can all not die together for a couple of weeks."
He wasn't the only one coming so he hoed they wouldn't all be lonely, or nuts. All in all, he arrived with as little ceremony as he could, watching the standoff as if it were nothing new. "Quit trying to see whose is bigger, anyone with a shotgun or rifle is compensating. She's bigger." This is said as he shoulders a shotgun and a rifle over each shoulder and walks the rest of the way into the split vessel. "I've got a crate of shotgun, a crate of rifle, a crate of pistol. A fifty-five of aqua and two hundred MRE. I can take it with me, you can shoot me and take it but I'm taking someone with me. Or I can leave it here and we can all not die together for a couple of weeks."
Updated, review please.
@knighthawk
Looking good so far but still not finished
Not finished, but broad brushstrokes. I had to hit enter earl to save it before my comp restarted on me.
Name:
Paul
Nickname:
Haul
Old Job:
Army convoy operative
New Job:
Driver
Sanity:
Shaky but kept together with militant discipline
Appearance:
On the road:
Off the road:
Personality:
"Fear, fear leads to panic, fear is the mind killer, fear is the death just beyond your sight. If you fear, you die. I have feared once, I have died once, I will not fear again."
"There is a structure to the world, a chain of command, even if it is the food chain. Some bind themselves in the chain, others are bound by another. We are the ones who break the chains."
History:
Before the ruination, he was a third generation army child. ROTC, west point, all of that. When he got into the real military, he was saddled with a cushy job driving trucks to keep him out of 'real' danger. But he proved himself to be more than competent in driving the trucks and was soon driving far more interesting trucks. Eventually the world did collapse and all his family meant nothing 3000 miles away as the bombs went off.
He lost himself for a time but eventually came back to reason when he decided to do more for himself that live for himself in the moment. He needed to uphold what came before him, even if it was all alone. Eventualy his loneliness was lessened by the others who he would come to call friend and family.
Your ride:
Depending on function or size of tribe.
Meant to be similar to the bullet farm leader's vehicle, a treaded wagon/ambulance/herse for hauling what we need.
Perhaps the first upgrade for the tribe. Our own Semi with a trophy car strapped to its hood.
Another possible choice to plow through the enemies while carrying tons of cargo.
Weapon of choice:
Shotgun
Specialty:
Driver of otherworldly skill, Crafting master
Other:
Paul
Nickname:
Haul
Old Job:
Army convoy operative
New Job:
Driver
Sanity:
Shaky but kept together with militant discipline
Appearance:
On the road:
Off the road:
Personality:
"Fear, fear leads to panic, fear is the mind killer, fear is the death just beyond your sight. If you fear, you die. I have feared once, I have died once, I will not fear again."
"There is a structure to the world, a chain of command, even if it is the food chain. Some bind themselves in the chain, others are bound by another. We are the ones who break the chains."
History:
Before the ruination, he was a third generation army child. ROTC, west point, all of that. When he got into the real military, he was saddled with a cushy job driving trucks to keep him out of 'real' danger. But he proved himself to be more than competent in driving the trucks and was soon driving far more interesting trucks. Eventually the world did collapse and all his family meant nothing 3000 miles away as the bombs went off.
He lost himself for a time but eventually came back to reason when he decided to do more for himself that live for himself in the moment. He needed to uphold what came before him, even if it was all alone. Eventualy his loneliness was lessened by the others who he would come to call friend and family.
Your ride:
Depending on function or size of tribe.
Meant to be similar to the bullet farm leader's vehicle, a treaded wagon/ambulance/herse for hauling what we need.
Perhaps the first upgrade for the tribe. Our own Semi with a trophy car strapped to its hood.
Another possible choice to plow through the enemies while carrying tons of cargo.
Weapon of choice:
Shotgun
Specialty:
Driver of otherworldly skill, Crafting master
Other:
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