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Recent Statuses

6 mos ago
Current Achmed the Snake
1 like
10 mos ago
It's kind of insane to me that people ever met without dating apps. It is just so inefficient.
2 likes
12 mos ago
One, polyamory is notoriously difficult to administer
4 likes
12 mos ago
I'm guessing it immediately failed because everyone's computer broke/work got busy/grand parents died
9 likes
1 yr ago
In short: no don't use basic acrylics.
2 likes

Bio

Early 30's. I know just enough about everything to be dangerous.

Most Recent Posts

Emmaline didn't look back as she fled up the stairs. The magic in the air had a stink to it that compounded her fear. She had never been in the presence of Chaos magic before but she had heard descriptions of it, both lurid denunciations from priests and more academic descriptions from Bright Wizards at their occasional public lectures back at the College. It was nothing she wanted to be anywhere near. She reached to top of the stairs and crashed through a much less formidable door and into a hallway of dark paneled wood with elaborate tapestries hanging to either side. A servant burst though a doorway holding a baton which he swung at Emmaline, she ducked under the blow and ran for the door he had entered from. Sounds of alarm were spreading through the house and she knew there were only moments before the whole place was in an uproar. Darting through the door she slammed it in the servants face and shot the bolt a moment before a heavy shoulder crashed against the door. A woman in a night gown stood by a large bed, Emmaline recognized her as the merchant's wife from the restaurant, the woman raised her fist and purplish light gathered in her fist. Emmaline squeaked in terror and tore of her cloak throwing it over the woman's head before kicking her over onto the bed. Her husband was climbing wild eyed from beneath the covers grasping for something to use as a weapon. Emmaline leaped up onto the bed and shouted a word. The leaded glass of the window exploded outwards and she dived through after the fragments, hitting the ground outside and then colliding with the stone wall. She sat dazed for a moment and the shoved herself up onto her feet running for the street and hoping Neil had the sense to have bolted already.
@Jarl Coolgruuf You are up!
"Well in that case we should get on with it," Emmaline declared breathlessly. They stepped into the garden and slipped quickly along the side of the manor house concealed in the darkness beneath the overhang of the second floor. The white coat was not particularly suited for the task but they would only be in the open for a few seconds. They reached the cellar door and Neil bent down over the lock for a few seconds. The engineer didn't need more than a few seconds to spring the lock and throw back the door. They stepped down into the darkness and found... another door. It wasn't the kind of heavy utilitarian door that would be expected in a cellar. It was fine polished timber that seemed to glint in the moonlight.

"What is this," Emmaline asked in puzzlement. Neil shrugged in the darkness.

"Maybe its a vault?" he suggested uncertainly and leaned close to the lock. His tools flashed and he jerked he hand back with an oath.

"Ranald's balls it had a trap," he said wonderingly.

"Did it prick you?" Emmaline asked in rising concern trying to think of spells that might serve against poisons. Neil snorted derisively.

"Not even close, just surprised me is all," he reassured her and then clicked the lock open. Emmaline touched the door and it swung open noiselessly. The interior glinted as moonlight struck metal. Emmaline stepped into the room, her nose wrinkling at a strange scent on the air. It smelled like a fire in a candy shop she had once smelled, combined with a spice merchants pots. Emmaline stepped inside and raised her hand, whispering an incantation. Golden light shone from the ring on her finger. The interior of the basement was paved with green veined marble and etched with symbols in copper. The walls were heaped with books bound in purplish leather and strange objects that defied description. Heads suspended in fluid, the twisted talons of great beasts, jars of strange powders. Emmaline's eyes widened comically as she took in the vista.

"Neil we need to..." the door slammed shut sealing the thief on the other side, arcane runs springing to light in pale fire. The fire spread down the walls and onto the copper sigils.

"Ranald's balls!" Emmaline squeaked turning to pound on the door. She felt the mystical energy gathering into a blue blur and felt her stomach turning as the spell raced towards completion. Something horrifying wrought in blue fire stepped from the center of the sigil reaching for the blonde wizard. Emmaline grabbed up a brass candleabra and smashed it across the things jaw then darted passed towards a set of stairs on the other side of the room, screaming as she went.
"Sounds like it might be kind of a handful," Juliette commented, tearing the leg of one of the roast chickens they had been given. They were in the stables preparing to ride out to investigate the last sighting of the creature. Juliette had outfitted herself with a leather coat and a shortsword as well as a small buckler and a shortbow. None of them were as fine as the weapons she had lost when she had been sucked into the the Cursed court but the were well made and serviceable. The took a bite from the chicken and chewed enthusiastically. They had been down to what they could hunt for the last couple of days and game had not been plentiful this late in the season.

"I've heard legends of laughing dogs, down beyond Arad Lund," she admitted, though she though they were fanciful tales. She stripped the bone with her teeth and dropped the bone into the a greased sack. The bones could be boiled to make soup particularly if they could scrounge some vegetables. She washed her hands with some of the rough saddle soap and rinsed them in a pale of tepid water. Then she unslung her lute and began to play a few bars of Sir Jackass, a tune which had been catching on like the red pox everywhere she had performed it. She digressed into a slight variation, decided she didn't like it and stuck it up in a more heroic melody.

Unfortunately Katia's confidence, proper and pious as it was, was short lived. Her humming powersword bisected a loading servitor with two vast magnetic claps for hands, dropping it to the ground in two parts which gouted biofluid in pressurized jets. Her leather parade boots slipped in the ruin of cables and she lurched sideways. The mistep saved her life as powerful tentacles of hammer wrought iron punched through the ferocrete wall in a spray of dust, whipping through the air she had occupied a moment earlier. A large figure clambered through the breech in the wall, nine of the hydro mechanical tentacles giving it an appearance of something like a spider and something like a squid but entirely neither. The creature at the center of the writhing limbs might have once been a tech priest, but he, or more accurately it had long since given in to the ruinous powers. The metal grill that would ordinarily have graced a priest of Mars had been replaced with a piece of carved blue crystal that duplicated the effect. The remainder of the face was in shadow but Katia felt that was rather a blessing. The eyes beneath the hood blazed with blue white light that didnt seem to illuminate so much as throw sharp unnatural shadows. The red robe was woven with patches of shimmering blue fabric and golden inlay that hurt the eyes to look upon. Katia noticed that even when his skeletal body was not supported by the tentacle things it seemed to hover an inch or two above the ground. An ozone stink bit at the back of her throat and the reeking stench of the warp permeating the air.

"Remove impediments from the formula, only by nines," it buzzed metallically.

"Warp spawn!" Katia shouted swinging her bolt pistol up into line and firing of the entire magazine in a flurry of bolt rounds. The Warp-priest swatted the rounds from the air with a single swipe of a mechadendirte, the metalized tentacles sparkling under the impact of the bursting shell casings. Another of the tendril reached for her and she batted it away with the blade in a shower of sparks. She backed towards Zeb, keeping the tentacles from her with a series of sharp savage parries.

"We need to get out of here!" she shouted to Zeb, ducking as one of the tentacles swept over head, dishing in a plate of 2 inch metal like it was tin foil.

Emmaline and Neil rose, dropping a few gold coins to the table to cover their own reckoning. They headed for the door but Emmaline paused at the doorway.

"Fetch me my cloak," she called to one of the servers. The servant looked confused and Emmaline guestured to a fine cloak of white fox pelts that was cinched with a gold chain set with a ruby. The server fetched the cloak and brought it over, draping it over her shoulders with an expert motion. Emmaline nodded her approval and then allowed Neil to lead her out and hand her up into the coach.

"That isn't your cloak," Neil observed.

"Afraid not," Emmaline returned with a smile.

------

"I think we will shall take a walk along this charming street," Emmaline declared as they entered an affluent boulevard lined with the houses of merchants. It was a reasonable request, many of the houses had open gardens which made the promenade pleasant, bright lanterns hung with expensive clean burning lamp oil. The driver obediently pulled over as Emmaline kept her eyes on the manor to which their marks carriage turned into. They climbed out of the carriage and joined the handful of other couples promenading. They took their time as they walked scoping out the area as they went.
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