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Ezekiel
Pizza Box
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Hos
rush99999
tadcfnaf
Syrenrei
Zeus23
Penny Member
STATUS: Ethical issues aside, AI prose is just really bad. 16 days ago
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Recent Statuses
16 days ago
Current
Ethical issues aside, AI prose is just really bad.
3
likes
24 days ago
She wanted to read, she wanted to write, but the main thing she wanted was something to fight
4
likes
1 yr ago
Make it clear that you don't need him to be reading Dante tomorrow. Also suggest it would be fun if you had a private language that you could use to mock English speakers in secret.
5
likes
2 yrs ago
Luckily history suggests an infinite ability for people to be shit heads ;)
1
like
3 yrs ago
Achmed the Snake
1
like
Bio
Early 30's. I know just enough about everything to be dangerous.
Most Recent Posts
It seems fairly obvious that these guys are doing that trick from Riften since only but a couple were stopped and not the whole group. They just want their silver.
I think the con-artist may know a con when sees one!
They obviously know better than to try to play a player!
[quote=@Fetzen]
Does anybody know how frustrating it is to have to try and wrap such bad rolls into posts that make sense somehow ?
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[/quote]
If its any consolation I was thinking that lecturing guards about tax policy and casting suspicion on other members of the group was a strange tactic before I saw the roll :P
Does anybody know how frustrating it is to have to try and wrap such bad rolls into posts that make sense somehow ?
[/hider][/quote]
If its any consolation I was thinking that lecturing guards about tax policy and casting suspicion on other members of the group was a strange tactic before I saw the roll :P
"That's right! Run you sorry bastards!" Thalia shouted, fitting another arrow to her bow and sending it after the fleeing foe. The arrow struck the rump of one of the fleeing horses. The horse screamed and staggered but didn't spill its fleeing rider. Phaedra leaned far over out of the saddle and pulled a cloak from a dead Khareed. With quick economical motions she cleaned her spatha and slipped it back into her leather sheath.
"That would probably be for the best," Phaedra agreed dryly.
It took most of the rest of the day to ready the army to march. The general plan was to move west rapidly till they encountered other Imperial forces and figure out exactly what in the name of the Huntress was going on back in Komnnea. They spent the day performing the hundred minor tasks required to move an army. Fortunately Brasidas appeared to be an excellent logistician. Phaedra had seen the more aristocratic Imperial units take days or weeks to get ready to march, but Tychon particularly was a terror when it came to motivating troops to load wagons.
As night fell Phaedra felt reasonalby confident they were ready to march out and settled down for the first sleep she had been able to enjoy in several days. Seemingly thirty seconds later Zoe shook her awake. Phaedra's hand flashed towards her sword before she realized it was her Tetrach. Even in the dark she could see that the scout was concerned.
"Enemy?" she asked, as she clambered to her feet. Zoe shook her head, then nodded it, then shrugged her shoulders. Phaedra arched a tired eyebrow.
"Its easier if I just show you," Zoe said wearily. Zoe lead Phaedra through the town to a small inn which had been commandeered by the Miravet. Several worried looking riders were at the door, all of them were armed and all of them were casting worried glances towards the buildings controlled by Brasidas and his men. Phaedra opened the door and froze.
"Go get Brasidas," she said without turning to Zoe.
"First... should we..." the scout commander began.
"Right now Zoe. Bring him alone, but right now."
Fifteen minutes later Brasidas was escorted through the door, looking none to pleased to have been brought here under the Huntress knew what pretenses. Phaedra was sitting with a dark skinned girl in dusty but extremely expensive clothing. A pair of well dressed servant girls, all but wringing their hands in fear.
"This is Tachmeena Al'Suren Daeva," Phaedra said without preamble.
"She is the daughter of the the Satrap of Sidris, the niece of the Great King," Phaedra said grimly.
"And she says she has come to enlist."
"That would probably be for the best," Phaedra agreed dryly.
It took most of the rest of the day to ready the army to march. The general plan was to move west rapidly till they encountered other Imperial forces and figure out exactly what in the name of the Huntress was going on back in Komnnea. They spent the day performing the hundred minor tasks required to move an army. Fortunately Brasidas appeared to be an excellent logistician. Phaedra had seen the more aristocratic Imperial units take days or weeks to get ready to march, but Tychon particularly was a terror when it came to motivating troops to load wagons.
As night fell Phaedra felt reasonalby confident they were ready to march out and settled down for the first sleep she had been able to enjoy in several days. Seemingly thirty seconds later Zoe shook her awake. Phaedra's hand flashed towards her sword before she realized it was her Tetrach. Even in the dark she could see that the scout was concerned.
"Enemy?" she asked, as she clambered to her feet. Zoe shook her head, then nodded it, then shrugged her shoulders. Phaedra arched a tired eyebrow.
"Its easier if I just show you," Zoe said wearily. Zoe lead Phaedra through the town to a small inn which had been commandeered by the Miravet. Several worried looking riders were at the door, all of them were armed and all of them were casting worried glances towards the buildings controlled by Brasidas and his men. Phaedra opened the door and froze.
"Go get Brasidas," she said without turning to Zoe.
"First... should we..." the scout commander began.
"Right now Zoe. Bring him alone, but right now."
Fifteen minutes later Brasidas was escorted through the door, looking none to pleased to have been brought here under the Huntress knew what pretenses. Phaedra was sitting with a dark skinned girl in dusty but extremely expensive clothing. A pair of well dressed servant girls, all but wringing their hands in fear.
"This is Tachmeena Al'Suren Daeva," Phaedra said without preamble.
"She is the daughter of the the Satrap of Sidris, the niece of the Great King," Phaedra said grimly.
"And she says she has come to enlist."
"Use us in other ways?" Phaedra asked innocently, controling her restive warhorse with practiced ease. Mounts bred for combat were not always ideal for such formal tasks. The smell of steel and leather made the horse brace itself for battle. What the beast made of the envoys perfume she had no idea. The envoy glared at the Miravet commander with beady hatefilled eyes. In Atvari society women lived highly proscribed lives undert the control of fathers and husband all of their lives. Even a widow would find herself under the thumb of an adult son.
"You debased Imperial women are suitable only for Atvari recreation," he sneered.
"Right but you have some plans for us after that first thirty seconds right?" Phaedra asked with an angelic smile. Both of her cataphracts snickered and Brasidas' pair made choking sounds as they tried to stifle their own laughter. The envoys pudgy face went white with fury and he lifted his fly whisk and struck at her. Things started to move very fast. A spatha, and the huntress knew how Thalia had drawn it so quickly, flashed down and intersected the envoys wrist. The overhanded blow lopped the hand from the envoy with the delicacy of a pairing knife cutting away an apple core. The envoy shrank back, his eyes wide and flicking from the bleeding stump to the severed hand that lay in the dust, still clutching the fly whisk.
"Freedom is that way!" Phaera shouted to the bearers of the envoys palanquin. By now the occupant had begun to scream and the Khareeds whose reactions seemed slow but in truth had taken less than a second, were drawing their own weapons. The slaves stared at her with wide eyes, then one of the great black men dropped his pole and bolted across the dirt. The others hesitated for a second but the fleeing man shouted something in his own tongue. Whatever it was the remaining slaves dropped their poles and joined him in flight, spilling the envoy to the ground.
"Charge!" Phaedra shouted, knowing there was no way they would outrun the cavalry bows of fifty Khareeds. Suiting action to word she whipped out her own spatha and kicked her horse forward. Not that she needed to have bothered, the warhorse knew the smell of blood even better than that of leather and steel. The stallion rode over the squealing envoy, seeming to take a murderous pleasure in trampling him under hoof as it leaped forward. Thalia, the cataphract who had started the fracas already had her sword out and followed at Phaedra's side, Alkmini, her second bodyguard, was only a second behind, taking position on Phaedra's right. As she had hoped the sudden charge through the Khareeds into disorder. She stabbed her spatha down into the neck of one of the great stallions and then yanked it free, turning the momentum into a back hand cut which knocked another rider from his mount. At nearly five to one odds, their only chance was to drive through the enemy and confuse them long enough that the rest of the army could even the odds. Fortunately horns were already blowing back at the village and armed riders were already beginning to race across the three hundred yards towards the one sided fracas.
"You debased Imperial women are suitable only for Atvari recreation," he sneered.
"Right but you have some plans for us after that first thirty seconds right?" Phaedra asked with an angelic smile. Both of her cataphracts snickered and Brasidas' pair made choking sounds as they tried to stifle their own laughter. The envoys pudgy face went white with fury and he lifted his fly whisk and struck at her. Things started to move very fast. A spatha, and the huntress knew how Thalia had drawn it so quickly, flashed down and intersected the envoys wrist. The overhanded blow lopped the hand from the envoy with the delicacy of a pairing knife cutting away an apple core. The envoy shrank back, his eyes wide and flicking from the bleeding stump to the severed hand that lay in the dust, still clutching the fly whisk.
"Freedom is that way!" Phaera shouted to the bearers of the envoys palanquin. By now the occupant had begun to scream and the Khareeds whose reactions seemed slow but in truth had taken less than a second, were drawing their own weapons. The slaves stared at her with wide eyes, then one of the great black men dropped his pole and bolted across the dirt. The others hesitated for a second but the fleeing man shouted something in his own tongue. Whatever it was the remaining slaves dropped their poles and joined him in flight, spilling the envoy to the ground.
"Charge!" Phaedra shouted, knowing there was no way they would outrun the cavalry bows of fifty Khareeds. Suiting action to word she whipped out her own spatha and kicked her horse forward. Not that she needed to have bothered, the warhorse knew the smell of blood even better than that of leather and steel. The stallion rode over the squealing envoy, seeming to take a murderous pleasure in trampling him under hoof as it leaped forward. Thalia, the cataphract who had started the fracas already had her sword out and followed at Phaedra's side, Alkmini, her second bodyguard, was only a second behind, taking position on Phaedra's right. As she had hoped the sudden charge through the Khareeds into disorder. She stabbed her spatha down into the neck of one of the great stallions and then yanked it free, turning the momentum into a back hand cut which knocked another rider from his mount. At nearly five to one odds, their only chance was to drive through the enemy and confuse them long enough that the rest of the army could even the odds. Fortunately horns were already blowing back at the village and armed riders were already beginning to race across the three hundred yards towards the one sided fracas.
Emmaline stared skyward in rapt wonder. She had some vague memories of the discussions about how different alchemical solutions could be used to make different colored flames. Normally such discussions took place between the other Gold apprentices, most of whom were fussy studious types who bored Emmaline to death. Albrecht usually found better uses for her than lounging about with her fellow apprentices however, and his own instruction was haphazard at best. She had never imagined that such boring academic knowledge could be put to such good use. Each bursting crack thumped in her chest an each flash of color dazzled her.
"It is incredible," Emmaline gasped, feeling the warmth of the vodka flowing through her body. She had taken to crushing berries into the potent liquor to give it a slightly sweeter flavor and her belly felt pleasantly full from the food she had consumed. Since she had become ALbrechts' apprentice Emmaline had rarely gone completely hungry, but there had been times when they had eaten such poor fare that she hadn't been able to quiet forget the privations of her childhood. Her own voice sounded muffled in her head and she reached over and pulled out the other piece of cloth, working her jaw to equalize the pressure. Reluctantly she had to admit that perhaps not everything in Nuln was inferior to Altdorf afterall.
Emmaline popped another of the berries into her mouth and chewed. Down on the Reik below they could see hundreds of boats, many illuminated by lanterns. It gave a beauty to the river that the muddy reality of daylight would dispel. She rolled up onto an elbow to turn sideways, resting her cheek on her palm.
"You sure know how to show a girl a good time," she grinned, gesturing to the remains of dinner as well as the pile of gold.
"It is incredible," Emmaline gasped, feeling the warmth of the vodka flowing through her body. She had taken to crushing berries into the potent liquor to give it a slightly sweeter flavor and her belly felt pleasantly full from the food she had consumed. Since she had become ALbrechts' apprentice Emmaline had rarely gone completely hungry, but there had been times when they had eaten such poor fare that she hadn't been able to quiet forget the privations of her childhood. Her own voice sounded muffled in her head and she reached over and pulled out the other piece of cloth, working her jaw to equalize the pressure. Reluctantly she had to admit that perhaps not everything in Nuln was inferior to Altdorf afterall.
Emmaline popped another of the berries into her mouth and chewed. Down on the Reik below they could see hundreds of boats, many illuminated by lanterns. It gave a beauty to the river that the muddy reality of daylight would dispel. She rolled up onto an elbow to turn sideways, resting her cheek on her palm.
"You sure know how to show a girl a good time," she grinned, gesturing to the remains of dinner as well as the pile of gold.
Jocasta relaxed as the credits appeared into her account. The heavy revolver she had selected had been no accident. There wasn't much short of anti-material rifles that would punch through dirks armors, or Volkavax's scales, but the capacitor fed heavy laser might have had a shot. She was just as glad she didn't have to find out for sure. It wouldn't make sense for Dirk to kill her now, the encryptions on a credit account were terrabytes in complexity, something that even quantum computers would need hundreds of years to crack.
"Well that went well," Jocasta commented, waving at a bar tending robot. The droid turned a sensor towards her and a drink menu flashed up in her augments. She ordered three shots of pepper whiskey and a sandwich with shaved protein. A hovering delivery drone arrived a minute later with three shot glasses still smoking with the vapor of the liquer. She tossed off one shot right away, then took a sip from the second before setting it down on the bar.
"So do you always work alone?" she asked, downing the second shot before picking up the smoking sandwhich and taking a bite.
"Not big on guns myself," she said around a mouthful of meat and bread.
"Too chancy," she explained.
"Well that went well," Jocasta commented, waving at a bar tending robot. The droid turned a sensor towards her and a drink menu flashed up in her augments. She ordered three shots of pepper whiskey and a sandwich with shaved protein. A hovering delivery drone arrived a minute later with three shot glasses still smoking with the vapor of the liquer. She tossed off one shot right away, then took a sip from the second before setting it down on the bar.
"So do you always work alone?" she asked, downing the second shot before picking up the smoking sandwhich and taking a bite.
"Not big on guns myself," she said around a mouthful of meat and bread.
"Too chancy," she explained.
Emmaline wobbled, more top heavy than normal, as the skiff slid away from the treasure ship. Within moments they lost amidst a hundred other similar ships. If anyone had seen them shimmying down the grappling hook no one remarked on it as they focused on the flash and roar of the distant gun fire. Emmaline stared somewhat morosely at the surface of the river which had stolen the majority of her coins. She shifted her chest with an obvious clinking sound. Reaching down her bodice she retrieved a coin and set it on the rowing bench. She repeated the procedure plucking coin after coin from the sagging fabric of her dress until nearly fifty pieces of gold were laid out in twos and threes. She reached down into her bodice and searched around for the final few coins that were caught where the corset wrapped her dress.
"Uhhh," Neil interjected. Emmaline looked up and realized that she had managed to free one of her breasts in her attempt to retrive coins.
"Oh," she said, hurriedly pulling her dress back into place. She glanced around the river and saw that no one else seemed to have noticed her momentary exposure.
"Well it isn't a fortune," she admitted looking at the small pile of gleaming coins, "But it is a fair days work." Grinning with pleasure she picked up a battered canvas hat which had been under the rowing bench and swept the coins into the hat with a series of satisfying clinks. She sighed lustily at the sound, casting a regretful glance back at the ship.
"Uhhh," Neil interjected. Emmaline looked up and realized that she had managed to free one of her breasts in her attempt to retrive coins.
"Oh," she said, hurriedly pulling her dress back into place. She glanced around the river and saw that no one else seemed to have noticed her momentary exposure.
"Well it isn't a fortune," she admitted looking at the small pile of gleaming coins, "But it is a fair days work." Grinning with pleasure she picked up a battered canvas hat which had been under the rowing bench and swept the coins into the hat with a series of satisfying clinks. She sighed lustily at the sound, casting a regretful glance back at the ship.
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