POOHEAD189

Legacy - Warhammer Fantasy-inspired War NRP

WHO HERE WOULD LIKE TO BATTLE THE DAWI!?

Valkyria Chronicles: Lions of the South

PFC Colin Nelson

He moved like a machine, letting off one shot after another, ducking down every shot or two. Bullets flew passed him, and before he knew it, every Imperial was dead. More than a few were from his own rifle, and not for the first time was he a bit perturbed at how easy it was for him to gun someone down. Colins chuckled uneasily at the realization that everything seemed to be going smoothly at the moment.

Corporal Hunt tapped his shoulder and told him to follow him to the first floor, and Collins nodded quickly, watching his comrade's flank as they descended and moved forward. He hadn't felt this accomplished in months. The orders to clear the forward barricades were welcomes ones at that. He reloaded as they moved out of the building, hefting his rifle and readying his next shot.
@Zarkun@Raven_Operative

Blood, Steel, and Gunpowder (Austronaut & POOHEAD189)

Cerdic waded through the crowds with the two women. Hilde seemed curious on their next move, but Isolde looked to be merely glad they had made it into a place of civilization. The Imperial Colleges were in Altdorf, but there was no harsh view of mages here. Such people were treated more or less respectably, despite the fact this was also home to one of the great Arch Lectors of Sigmar.

At first he snorted at Hilde's suggestion. Cerdic didn't care for ceremony or looks. He'd march up to the Countess half naked and covered in blood if he had to. Then again, that'd seem very much something a chaos worshipper would do, so on second thought...

"We need a place to live, and to think." he said. The crowds were bustling around them. A few curvaceous and heavily rogued women blew kisses to Cerdic as they passed a street, and merchants eyed Hilde and Isolde hungrily as both customers of fine jewels and perhaps to sate their own mannish desires. Most people gave them no notice however. There were many unassuming citizens going about their way of life. "Let's find a good tavern. I have an idea."

In the distance to the northeast, cannon echoes could be heard reverberating subtly through the city. In front of them upon the cobbled street, a man in rags stood atop a box, wailing that the end was nigh and that all who heard him should repent before they were consumed by the Demon hordes of chaos. "DO NOT LINGER! THOSE WHO SATE THEIR DESIRES OF THE FLESH AND DRINK SHALL FIND NAUGHT BUT DEATH AND DAMNATION! EVEN KNOW OUR EMPIRE CRUMBLES!" They passed near the docks next. A gruff and deep voice could be heard from around the corner. "I hate boats...I hate boats almost as much as I hate trees. And I hate trees almost as much as I hate Elves!" followed by a cultured sigh.

Isolde was very much happy to be free from her captors, with a chance at a new life away from her greybeard masters she had originally fled from. The attractive woman did her best to memorize the city so she could more casually survey it later on. The three continued down the next few streets, catching glimpses of the Countesses Palace in the distance. They had finally found a moderately sized Inn and Tavern dubbed 'The Gilded Tankard' a few streets later. Uproarious laughter could be heard from within, and a few squeals as well. Talking and footsteps and loud belches followed. "Let's see if we can get a job here." he said to them, stepping in.
@Austronaut

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@gcoldThat sucks. Hope you feel better soon

Game of Thrones

Excellent, the OOC is here.

Blood, Steel, and Gunpowder (Austronaut & POOHEAD189)

"Yeah" he said, his voice about as rugged as his ruddy face at the moment, so tired was he. He'd listened to her story, but he knew her tale wouldn't sink in until he had gotten some much needed rest. But he heeded her final words, and reached into his boot. He imagined he looked quite threatening when he yanked out a keen edged knife, but he got to his knees and crawled over to Isolde.

The woman was out cold it seemed, for she merely stirred as he cut through and around the bottom of her dress, the fabric making it up to a tad below her knees now. He cut the fabric and tied/covered both of his most serious cuts and wounds with both halves of it, grunting. As soon as he was done, he knew his energy was spent. His Knife dropped from his nerveless fingers, and he fell over, falling into darkness for the next few hours.

---

Reigynferlgar the Crimson mewled happily as she dragged the crate of eggs back out into the courtyard. Her sinuous, huge body so large that her tail still swayed near the treeline passed the breached wall. She would take these eggs back to her mountain home. She vowed that she would rend and tear every human within 100 miles of her home next time, to make sure there was no chance for her to ever have intruders again.

Dragons senses were keener than any of the sentient races, but so excited was she that the Dragon did not notice the pair of malevolent eyes watching her from within the Reikwald. Crovendiff languidly licked his lips, the bloodshed the battle and the Dragon had wrought being so very alluring to the mutated chaos follower. Somehow in the back of his head, he knew that Hilde was still alive. He could feel her presence. "Yes, soon my beloved."

Daylight was fast approaching, and the Beastman were now scattered. Time to get to work...
@Austronaut

TNT - The Nameless Tavern. (Always Open)

Ben let out a breath, and sat down at the counter once more. He gave the wraith a smile, getting used to such odd residents here. "Well met." he said to him, before turning to Willow. "Could I please get aaaaaa....meat lovers pizza?" he asked inquisitively. This place seemed to have everything. Did it really? "If you need to make it yourself from scratch, you don't need to. I'd hate to bother you like that." Ben looked over to Ayeka and smiled, waving her over to join him.@Varicke@Alisdragon911@SkeletonShadow

Blood, Steel, and Gunpowder (Austronaut & POOHEAD189)

He helped put Isolde on top of the Gambesons, and let out a groan as he suddenly felt like he'd been hit by an Ogre multiple times from how sore he was. His eyes drank in the dim view of the room with an otherworldly fashion from the lack of sleep he had received the past two days, as well as the constant fighting. Cerdic groaned, placing a torch on a holder, before leaning against a wall. Hilde made her way back into the room just as soon as he felt like he couldn't stand anymore.

He let out a chuckle when he saw the cheese, apples, and wineskins. "I knew it was good to keep you alive." he jested, though it sounded a bit mirthless from how tired he was. At her suggestion, he nodded and took off his tabard, then in turn did his best to unstrap his chainlink armor. It felt thrice as heavy as it usually did, but he managed to slip it off, letting it clink against the ground as he dropped it unceremoniously. Next, his linen shirt came off and he tossed that below him.

Bare chested, he hit the wall with his back and slid down it. His physique was muscled and lean of midriff, but scarred. In fact the only way Hilde could tell which cuts were recent were from the blood that seeped down them. Much of his skin had been bronzed from outside activity under the sun, and reddish blue bruises dotted his chest and shoulders.

He scarfed down some cheese before biting into an apple. He was going to say something about what had just transpired, but there were no real words for talking about the past two days. Instead he spoke to her about something else. "You have some field knowledge in medicine?" Cerdic inquired, his voice coarse. He drank some of the wine to help him on that account.
@Austronaut

Legacy - Warhammer Fantasy-inspired War NRP

Thundrim Kadrin Throne Room

The Throneroom was modest for a Dwarf High King, though it that still gave it a sense of majesty, grandeur, and craftsmanship no longer seen in this day and age. The stone of the mountain was hewn and shaped to fit a Dwarf King, the hall at least 20 Dwarfs high and 50 Dwarfs wide. Intricately carved, albeit stout and functional pillars lined the sides of the great room. Symbols of hammers, axes, and the Ancestor gods were etched upon the stonework.

The Dwarf messenger, along with Gorrick the Hearth Guard, strode down the length of the room toward King Bagrick. The Dwarf King was a powerful figure to behold, grim of visage and long of beard. He sat there doing what any sensible Dwarf King would. Counting his gold. The Reckoner Scribe sat beside him, marking down each gold piece as he placed them in the opposite pile. The heavy footsteps of his fellow Dwarfs echoed across the room. Bagrick did not look up.

"Who interrupts a King when he is counting his horde?" He asked. Two Dwarfs stood under him, holding up the table of Gold, standing as still as statues with the discipline only Dwarfs could muster. His Hearth Guard knelt before his King, the Dwarf's visage covered in his great helm. Only his brown beard was visible. "My King, an urgent message from the Manling lands of the Rhun." he said. "The Manlings call for something?" he asked. "No High King, but our Rangers report that Orruks and Beastman have begun to invade their lands in great numbers. The largest incursion we have seen in many years."

It was only then that Bagrick Grimbeard looked up from his great wealth. The gilded and bejewled crown of Gorrak'zuhm upon his head. It was said other than various powerful, albeit mundane enchantments were upon it, it gave the King the wisdom of all of the Dwarf Kings of Old who had worn it. With a rough word in Dwarfish, his table bearers moved the Gold out of his way, and the powerful King set his massive fist under his chin as he thought for a moment. "Send word to Grimbold in the Southern passes."

"War, my King?" the Hearth Guard asked. Bagrick shook his head. "No. I will not risk open war....not yet. But a reckoning is to be done on the past offenses of the barbaric races. How many Dwarfs reside in Barak-Kazul?" he asked his Reckoner scribe. The Dwarf looked up from his great book that recounted all of the gold, deeds, oaths, and grudges of the Hold. "Close to 50,000, my King." he replied. Bagrick nodded. That means they would perhaps have less than 30 thousand to fight. "Tell Grimbold to send five thousand Dwarfs to the manlings aid. He can lead the throng if he wishes-" Of course he would, Bagrick knew. Grimbold was known for his fierceness, prowess in battle, and hastiness (to be fair, hasty for a Dwarf is settling an argument before your great grandchild dies, so...) "and send back a report of their progress when they can."

"Yes, my King." the messenger said, and was lead out of the Throne room, making his way through the outer part of the great hold, before being lead up to the top of the mountain through the caves of Troll Hewing, named after the great slaughtering of Trolls that allowed the Dwarfs to take the peaks for their own. It was at the highest peak he took the 'trolley,' a room hung up by steel cords that allowed quick access across the holds. It led him to the Gyrocopter that would take him there.

Legacy - Warhammer Fantasy-inspired War NRP

@RisenDeadYE BLOODY MANLING, AH TOLD YE I WIZ FIXIN' TAE POST! I JIST HAD TAE TAKE CARE O' SOME THINGS. KEEP IT UP AN' AHL WRITE YER NAME IN THE BOOK O' RECKONIN'
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Don't worry we're still friends.