Ollumhammersong Member
STATUS: God Save the King! 2 yrs ago
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SkyeOfStars
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I'll try to get something up. But who is this new guy? someone we have to rescue?
Thrure managed to find a rough door with a large rusted metal lock that seemed to lead to the underside of this building. If being a skaven taught someone anything. It's that the deeper you go the more secrets you will find. He pulled some thieving tools off of his belt, which amounted to no more than a few crude slivers of iron and steel that he used as lockpicks.
He broke through the rusted lock within a few minutes and flinched as the old wooden door creacked far louder than he would have liked upon opening. Never-the-less he slipped inside and descended into the dark cellar. He was dissapointed at the lack of anything interesting....at all. It just seemed to be food stuffs. Food stuffs and many barrels of something. He growled and stole a loaf of bread of the nearest shelf to eat later. He stuffed it in the folds of his vest and carefully crawled his way through the darkness and up the only flight of stairs in the room. At least the stairs didn't lead into the middle of the common room. That would have been unfortunate for him. And difficult to escape. Though to his everyone seemed to pre-occipied in their drinking and food to care about a shadow emerging from the cellar. Sometimes it really was to easy to spy on the man-things.
After a few more minutes of close encounters and near discoveries Thrure ended up running up the nearest wall and balanced on a rafter in the ceiling. Even he didn't know exactly what led him to be up here but it definatly was the last place anyone would think to check. He perched himself into the most shadowed area of the rafters he could find and pulled out the loaf of bread. There was no reason not to eat while he worked. He just hoped people would be to drunk to notice the crums.....and to be able to see into a shadow.
He broke through the rusted lock within a few minutes and flinched as the old wooden door creacked far louder than he would have liked upon opening. Never-the-less he slipped inside and descended into the dark cellar. He was dissapointed at the lack of anything interesting....at all. It just seemed to be food stuffs. Food stuffs and many barrels of something. He growled and stole a loaf of bread of the nearest shelf to eat later. He stuffed it in the folds of his vest and carefully crawled his way through the darkness and up the only flight of stairs in the room. At least the stairs didn't lead into the middle of the common room. That would have been unfortunate for him. And difficult to escape. Though to his everyone seemed to pre-occipied in their drinking and food to care about a shadow emerging from the cellar. Sometimes it really was to easy to spy on the man-things.
After a few more minutes of close encounters and near discoveries Thrure ended up running up the nearest wall and balanced on a rafter in the ceiling. Even he didn't know exactly what led him to be up here but it definatly was the last place anyone would think to check. He perched himself into the most shadowed area of the rafters he could find and pulled out the loaf of bread. There was no reason not to eat while he worked. He just hoped people would be to drunk to notice the crums.....and to be able to see into a shadow.
Haha... Miss post
Well we all seem to be converging on this one inn/village. but in various areas around it.
Wherever really. This seems to be fairly open in terms of location.
And posted.
Thrure watched the man-things from the shadows. He had been hiding for hours in various shadowed locations around the courtyards and looked out amongst the field of tents. Like all skaven he felt more at home in the oppressive darkness where it was easier to hide and lose your enemies. But these man-things were so inept. From the look of their possessions he knew them to be soldiers, had not even noticed him even as a half dozen walked sleepily past his location. He was both amazed and gladdened by the severly lacking senses of this species. Any skaven would have been immediatly suspicious of any shadows. And he was sure any skaven assassin would have spotted him in a a heartbeat.
His tail lashed silently under he long black cloak and he teeth barred as he suppressed a growl from escaping his throat. How easy would it be for him to simply kill one of these man-things? They were too stupid to seemingly notice his presence or anything for that matter. They were a soft race, they smelt of odd odours that made his fur stand on end and As his Tail was bare, These man-things were ugly. He would probably do this world a favour by removing a few of these eyeblights.
Eventually he slunk back deeper into the shadows, letting his fur and his cloak disguise his body and shape against the sorrounding darkness. He had very little in the way of equipment, he relied heavily on the colour of his fur and his cloak for most of his needs. His chest and legs were covered with little more than a thick black fabric to make as little noise as possible when moving. The long dagger which for his size was more akin to a short sword was crude, even by skaven standards. It was a miracle he was given one that was rust free and only a little over a half dozen notches along its length. Even his blade was blacked with fire and the hilt painted to as to not let anything metal catch the sun or moonlight and give away his position. Unless you were an elite assassin or soldier skaven weapons and armour were poor to say the least. Most junior runners made the efforts to steal weapons from the surface world. A perk of the job one might call it.
On his way out of the camp he did sever several tent strings, pull up pegs, notch tripods that were holding up cauldrons of boiling porridge. When he passed the supply tent he could not resist cutting his way in ever so gently and stealing a piece of raw meat. When he was safely beyond the camp he set ot devouring the cut of meat in a flurry of growls, flashing teeth and razor sharp claws. Even the fat and gristle was forced down into his belly. Most humans may look down upon eating raw and untrimmed meat. But to him it was one of the few redeaming qualities of man-things that they so often carried fresh meat. And it was so easy to steal.
He finally heard the commotion of tents falling over, cauldrons spilling on the ground and an angry cook accusing everyone of cutting into his tent and stealing the food. He decided to put some more distance between himself and the scene of his numerous petty crimes. Soon he found himself outside a fairly lonesome building. Despite the fact that it had no immediate neighbours it did seem to have a fair amount of people inside. Instead of entering it as many things seemed to be. He crept along its walls, looking inside windows when possible at its occupants. Even pushing the windows open slowly and carefully so he could hear the noise and voices inside. Finally he made his way around the back and looked for ways to enter this place. He saw food he could steal and conversations he could eavesdrop. Casual rumours and information filled these types of places. Such things could spark interest in the under-empire.
His tail lashed silently under he long black cloak and he teeth barred as he suppressed a growl from escaping his throat. How easy would it be for him to simply kill one of these man-things? They were too stupid to seemingly notice his presence or anything for that matter. They were a soft race, they smelt of odd odours that made his fur stand on end and As his Tail was bare, These man-things were ugly. He would probably do this world a favour by removing a few of these eyeblights.
Eventually he slunk back deeper into the shadows, letting his fur and his cloak disguise his body and shape against the sorrounding darkness. He had very little in the way of equipment, he relied heavily on the colour of his fur and his cloak for most of his needs. His chest and legs were covered with little more than a thick black fabric to make as little noise as possible when moving. The long dagger which for his size was more akin to a short sword was crude, even by skaven standards. It was a miracle he was given one that was rust free and only a little over a half dozen notches along its length. Even his blade was blacked with fire and the hilt painted to as to not let anything metal catch the sun or moonlight and give away his position. Unless you were an elite assassin or soldier skaven weapons and armour were poor to say the least. Most junior runners made the efforts to steal weapons from the surface world. A perk of the job one might call it.
On his way out of the camp he did sever several tent strings, pull up pegs, notch tripods that were holding up cauldrons of boiling porridge. When he passed the supply tent he could not resist cutting his way in ever so gently and stealing a piece of raw meat. When he was safely beyond the camp he set ot devouring the cut of meat in a flurry of growls, flashing teeth and razor sharp claws. Even the fat and gristle was forced down into his belly. Most humans may look down upon eating raw and untrimmed meat. But to him it was one of the few redeaming qualities of man-things that they so often carried fresh meat. And it was so easy to steal.
He finally heard the commotion of tents falling over, cauldrons spilling on the ground and an angry cook accusing everyone of cutting into his tent and stealing the food. He decided to put some more distance between himself and the scene of his numerous petty crimes. Soon he found himself outside a fairly lonesome building. Despite the fact that it had no immediate neighbours it did seem to have a fair amount of people inside. Instead of entering it as many things seemed to be. He crept along its walls, looking inside windows when possible at its occupants. Even pushing the windows open slowly and carefully so he could hear the noise and voices inside. Finally he made his way around the back and looked for ways to enter this place. He saw food he could steal and conversations he could eavesdrop. Casual rumours and information filled these types of places. Such things could spark interest in the under-empire.
Big Sister AM said
When I asked you what you thought of the character, it was more along the line of "is he accepted" than an actual "what do you think. It feels weird to me that my character is just automatically accepted because I am the GM. If you feel anything is off or something, let me know.
Well he doesn't seem over or underpowered in any way. He seems to have flaws so that's always good.
I' say.... Ya sure, he seems good.
He's...promiscuous to be sure. I forsee awkward mornings and conversations in the party.
Hey, I think we are more than willing to wait a little longer if we need to. This si just for fun after all.
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