POOHEAD189

Game of Thrones

@RubyYou're doing good, girl. It's us that's dragging. Hope your hand feels better soon <3

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

@The ZAXThanks for telling me! I was about to say you had one day but since you let me know, we can wait. I'll speed y'all along soon and then we can be off on the adventure!

Blood, Steel, and Gunpowder (Austronaut & POOHEAD189)

"We don't have the money for-" Cerdic started, but one look at the Dwarf and he knew they couldn't exactly turn back that offer now. The stunted warrior would have thought they were making fun of him. Cerdic would rather not tussle with someone who looked like he needed to throttle something to calm himself.

The Dwarf turned one eye on them, visible through the visor of his great winged helmet. He stared right at Hilde, and then gazed at Cerdic for a moment. "Your ale, sir." the barkeep said behind him. The Dwarf grabbed it, and bent his head back as he guzzled the entire pint down his throat. The act had Cerdic's eyes widening a bit.

The Dwarf wiped his mouth with his burly forearm, ordered another drink, and then hopped off the too-tall-stool and strode over to where Hilde and Cerdic had sat. "My thanks for the Ale, piss poor that it is. Not your fault, I suppose." he said. His voice was deep and grating. Cerdic nodded to Hilde. "It was her that bought it for you, Bearded one."

The Dwarf nodded once, appreciating Cerdic's honesty at the least.
@Austronaut

A Pirate's Life For Me {Angel & Poohead}

"A dream?" Will asked, somewhat stunned for a moment, though quite obviously delighted. "About me?" His gaze was locked on her eyes as he smiled. The Governor coughed. "Come now, that's hardly appropriate." he told her, clearing his throat and ushering the shy one to come closer with a beckoning hand. The Governor's words did not seem to deter the young Blacksmith, nor his daughter's gaze.

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

Dax is just going to be happy to go on the hunt once more.

A Pirate's Life For Me {Angel & Poohead}

Years later.
Pop. Realization flooded over Will Turner that he had just ruined the gilded candle holder after giving it the slightest handling. He blinked, and looked around uneasily. It wouldn't do for someone who at least attempted to be a proper gentlemen to be caught in such a way. Not to mention him being in the Governors house in general, ruining his things.

A servant strode in, Will giving him a smile that only betrayed slight nervousness. The man ignored him mostly, passing him by.

"Ah, Mister Turner." he heard from the side, Governor Swann and another servant at his flank approaching. "Good to see you again."

"Good day sir" Will said quickly, placing the box he was carrying upon the nearest table. "I have your order."

He took the lid off the container and presented the ornate and exquisitely made rapier to his liege. The Governor examined it.
"The blade is folded steel. That is gold filigree laid into the handle." He gestured. "If I may?"

The governor handed it to him. "Perfectly balanced. The tang is nearly the full width of the blade." he flipped the sword expertly, startling the Governor for a moment, but the man had always been a kind, albeit posh man.

"Impressive, very impressive." Governor Swann said. "Commodore Norrington will be most pleased with this. Do pass my compliments onto your master."

Will paused for a moment. It was not his place to say, but it was he himself that forged the blade and not the oft-asleep man he worked under. "I shall." he promised. "A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated."

Valkyria Chronicles: Lions of the South

Will post in a day or two, friends.

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

Tending Wounds and Post Fight Greetings

Dervs and Poo Collab.

---

Daixanos jerked his Axe out of Farid's chest, and spent a long moment looking at the man as he toppled forward into the dirt. It was odd, for the Argonian. He had felt like he had known him already, despite only seeing glimpses of him in the crowd now and again and never actually having been introduced. Perhaps in a different setting, this fight would have been for sport, and ended in less final terms. He gave Jorwen a nod at the big man's comment.

The Argonian let out a breath from his nostrils. They still stung from the Redguard's hits. He waited for Do'Karth to finish paying his respects. “This one offers his services to mend your wounds. You fought well.” the Khajit said to him. Dax did not speak at first, and instead knelt over Farid for a moment, placing his hand on the dead man's chest. "May your Gods guide you." he intoned. The Hunter was not entirely sure how to pay respects to one of a different faith, but it was all he knew to say. He stood up at that, and gave Do'Karth a grunt of acceptance. "My thanks." His nostrils waxed and waned as he breathed silently, setting his Axe down beside his fallen bow and standing before his new comrade.

Do'Karth gestured for the argonian to follow him, leading him away from the circle and towards a front-facing deck with some chairs on the nearest building. "Sit, and remove your armour. This one needs to see the wounds before he can do anything." he instructed, setting his equipment down on a nearby table. The whole motion was very mechanical, and he tried not to think of the circumstances that led to this all too much.

"Are you in pain?" he asked, not turning around as he laid out some fresh bandages, a sewing needle and thread, and a candle and tinderbox he'd plucked from elsewhere in the village earlier in the day.

Dax's armor was moderate, giving adequate protection but giving him a fair amount of free movement as well. He removed his Iron breastplate, and nordic guantlets and bracers. They dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. Next he peeled off his linen tunic, and allowed the Khajiit to examine him. "I am in some pain, but nothing I have not felt before." he said simply.

Do'Karth knelt before the argonian, checking the most obvious injuries, the slash wounds on Dax's arm. "Normally, Do'Karth would caution against infection, but he understands that is almost non-existant of a concern for argonians. Makes this one's work easier." Igniting the candle with a flint and steel file, the khajiit ran the needle through the open flame, as if he were roasting a rabbit over a fire spit. The silence hung heavy, but Do'Karth felt he needed to break it. He needed to understand exactly who Daixanos was.

"This one understands you have only very recently joined our ranks. Why risk your life in a trial by combat? Do'Karth does not understand why you chose to do such a thing. Few know who you are, and this action is what people will know you for. One does not gather faith or trust with his comrades if they feel you are prepared to cut them down at a moment's notice."

Daixanos glanced up at the Khajiit, his expression unreadable as most Argonian expressions were if one did not look close enough. It would have been fairly neutral either way, however. "I was under the impression Farid of Hammerfell committed murder." he said. "My life has been a constant test of my strength in arms. I do not relish killing, nor do I hold your former comrade ill will as I had said before the contest began. But from what little I know of the situation, he was someone who demanded to fight a champion for Ashav. I did not see it as a chance to kill one at a moment's notice. I felt honored to be able to fight for a cause that was just, and had not had much by the way of Mercenary work since we began." He paused for a moment.

The Argonian spoke up once more. "My people believe that when we die, our soul travels back to our sacred Hist to begin anew when another hatchling drinks from the sap. My time from hunting and war has brought me little fear of death. Besides, I would think that it would have been worse for the rest of the team if Farid had killed or been killed by one whom you had grown to know such as he."

It was a point worthy of consideration, Do'Karth conceded. Either Dax was being genuine or was gifted with diplomatic language. He did not judge him for what he did, but rather he wanted to understand him better - whether to trust him as an ally, or to keep his distance. Life seemed all to quick to be erased at a moment's notice these days, especially if one didn't watch their steps. "The crime was dealt with as per the company custom. It is not Do'Karth's place to say if it was just or not, simply that it occurred. This one did not know Farid particularly well, so it is not as if he lost a friend." he replied neutrally.

His ears pivoted with interest at the argonian's view of the afterlife, it was always quite strange, even by a feline that took form based on whatever the moon phase happened to be at the time of birth. Argonians were rather alien to the other races of Tamriel, and it probably was a large reason why the dunmer of Morrowind had historically enslaved and slaughtered them. It was easy to kill an animal, less so a person. Things were much simpler if you did not allow that line to blur. "Pardon this one's bluntness, but if you had been reborn time and time again, why is it no argonians have memory of what came before? Does it not make life seem rather cheap and worthless if it simply never ends?"

"Perhaps it is the fact that we do not recall that makes life more fulfilling than it otherwise would be." Dax replied. "If it is what the Hist wills, then it is so. Visions of things past, and of things perhaps yet to come do we receive from them. It was they that give our people form and purpose. With their help, we overcame our enslavers, as well as the Daedra themselves. I do not question on the reasons for the purpose of such things. Or...I do not often do so. I simply attempt to live as best I can with this life I find myself in. I simply live with the purpose I have." He paused again, almost uncomfortably so. "I do not often speak unless it is with my Hist brothers, forgive me. Even today reciting my past actions, it was simply for form. But your bluntness is not seen as..." he didn't quite know the word to use. "-rudeness. Worry not."

"You are not comfortable associating with other races?" Do'Karth asked with a long blink. "What drove you to Skyrim, to this company in particular?" he asked, curiously so. Holding the needle just above the gash, he cautioned, "Steel yourself. This may hurt." After being sure that Dax had time to absorb that bit of advice, he drove the hot needle through the scales and softer tissues as he began his work. "Do'Karth has never really had the opportunity to speak to argonians before this month, he is afraid to say. There is an air of uncertainty about you, and he feels somewhat ashamed of it." he admitted, working with steady, delicate hands. He knew that working quickly and talking was the best way to distract form the pain.

Dax's jaw clenched at the sudden searing pain, but he merely grunted though his fangs were clamped shut within his mouth. "I am not used to it." he admitted. "Landstriders are often as strange to me as I am to them, I believe. Even the few years I have been here, I have mainly visited the town of Rorikstead to sell my skins or find more bounties. I need only the land and beasts for company. Though it can be a welcome opportunity for comrades, at times." He breathed in and out, letting the pain subside a bit.

"I do not know what compelled me to leave Black Marsh, at least in its entirety. I do know I felt compelled, however. After fighting the Dunmer, I simply attempted to make my own way with what skills I possessed as a hunter. I wound up in the north. It was after various trials in southern Skyrim did I think Dawnstar and the Reach would provide me with new grounds with which to hunt. I received word of Ashav and his group shortly thereafter, and gave him 3 bandit bounties. He allowed me in." He was going to finish his story there, but continued after a moment. "Perhaps it was the Hist that guided me here...before you and your comrades returned, I halted a ship that was carrying Argonians to be enslaved in the south. This place does not look fondly upon my people. If I am to do good in this world for my fellow Hist brothers, perhaps it is here, with your group, that I begin."

The wound was close to finished up, so Do'Karth continued on and cut the thread before preparing another before speaking again. "This one had not heard of the argonian slaves, and slavery is not something Do'Karth abides." He said earnestly, shaking his head in recollection. "The way the Jarl in this hold treats the argonians, keeping them away and enforcing it through steel is something that this one finds quite distasteful. It reminds Do'Karth far too readily of his own people, the lost and misguided trade caravans, that are denied access to the cities, condemning them to wander the dangerous roads for what very well may be their entire lives. This one suspects the only reason he is tolerated in these lands is because of the company. Barring this Hist you speak of... why not travel West or South? This one found Hammerfell quite agreeable."

The Argonian nodded. There were tensions between his people and the people of Do'Karth, he knew. But Dax had never felt any animosity on his part. They often went through the same prejudices. "Perhaps I will one day." Dax said. "I suppose Skryim was an agreeable choice, for the land is untamed with beasts to hunt, and the conflict of Skyrim brings out many bounties to collect." He let the words hang in the air. "How did you come to Hammerfell? Or this Company?"

Do'Karth smiled. "Do'Karth walked." he said, beginning on a new wound with the needle. "This one has wandered, never staying in one place for long. There is much to see in Tamriel, so many different places that defy one's imagination and all manner of customs that are so strange and wonderful. It seemed a crime to simply stay where this one was born when there was a world calling for him. Do'Karth came to Skyrim because he foolishly wanted to see a dragon, or to see the sky dance in the night. The Nords are fascinating people, he rather likes them, although the feeling is seldom mutual... with strong exceptions." he chuckled.

"I feel similar, on the Nords at the very least." Dax replied. "They are hardy for menfolk, but often times look down on others. It makes my respect of them lessen somewhat, other than a few notable friends I have made in Rorikstead and Markarth. Perhaps one or two in Whiterun as well, but I seldome travel there to sell my wares."

Dax decided that, while he had time to speak, it was a good time to find out information. "How do you feel on the companions were have in this company?" he asked. "Do they work well together? Are there others that would perform such deeds as Farid did?" It was a blunt question, but he was too tired to be subtle. Not that he was usually subtle in speech, only in stalking prey on the tundra.

"They are a people of strong passion and conviction, things will be one way or another with Nords... there seldom is a middle ground. They stand firm for what they believe, which is commendable." The khajiit noted, finishing his work and setting his tools down for the time being, rolling back into a sitting position, his back against the ash bannisters behind him. He considered what he would say in response to the inevitable inquiry of what he thought of his companions. How could one find sufficient words to sum up the outfit? How would he possibly know the intent of those he had not met? It was a difficult thing to ponder, but he tried, anyways.

"The people are what one would expect from sellswords. Most are concerned with money, many have questionable histories and moral standpoints, and many are shaken from what we had endured since Windhelm. There have been grievous losses, many good men and women cut down by an impossible foe, and Do'Karth would like to think it's brought the survivors closer together, but strains are occurring. Farid may only be the first of many who break under the strain. While this one does not know many of the company personally, for he has only been among them for only a few short weeks, there are a few he trusts without reservation. They are his family." Do'Karth said definitively, feeling both proud and defensive of the people he was serving alongside.

Dax listened with a cool reserve, letting him speak his mind and holding no judgements. When Do'Karth was finished, the Argonian stood up slowly. "Good to know." he grunted. His reptilian eyes examined the khajiit for a moment, before he held out his relatively noninjured arm out, hand extended toward him. "I do not know if you viewed Farid as a friend, but I did what was required of me. Let it be known that I believe you to be true, and that I trust you as a comrade to fight with me in the future." Dax was not so easily trusting with his life, but he would also not lie. Do'Karth seemed to be a decent sort from the Landstriders he has seen. If Tsleeixth trusted him as a friend, Daixanos would as a companion.

There was a moment's hesitation as Do'Karth regarded the offered hand. How Dax carried himself in conversation was certainly different than in the ring, but it was still too early to tell what his true intentions were. After a moment's decision, the khajiit grasped the offered wrist in a shake. He did not know what to make of the argonian, and the way he analyized him was discomforting. "We all must do our duties. You need not concern yourself with Do'Karth's intentions or skill at arms. This one has survived much, all without armour or intent to kill. He has had to make adjustments in other aspects to cope, but the results speak for themselves." he smiled tersely.

Dax gave a curt nod, much like a fellow soldier would. "Thank you for tending to my wounds." he said. "You honor me." The Argonian was now patched up, and retrieved his fallen equipment. He would be sore for a bit, and some of his wounds would sting to high heavens. But his Argonian regeneration and resiliance would have him feeling healed in no time. He headed out.

Do'Karth was left to his own devices. It had been an interesting introduction to the new member of the company, one who had announced himself in a rather explosive fashion at that. He'd mended Dax's wounds and he seemed pleasant enough, but time would tell if his words proved to be genuine. With a sigh, the khajiit found himself on his feet again and decided to make himself available to the commanders; word was they had more assignments lined up, and it seemed that time without action tended to make people make rash and regrettable choices.

All he could hope was that wherever they were taken next kept them far from the sea as possible.

To Cure a Curse

The young Elf knelt down before the Altar, legs crossed and arms atop his knees with a poise that bespoke honor and respect. Two small candles framed the small shrine, illuminating Calanon's visage and trailing wisps of smoke twirling into the cooling air of the night.

He breathed in...and out. His keen senses raising to new heights as he focused upon his meditation before the small shrine that represented his Gods of the forest. For near an hour he had sat there, his truest friend and steed behind him, idly chewing on thick tufts of grass while he remained in his reverie.

He found he had to do this more often than not these days, ever since he had been tainted by the artifact of the Dorcha. He could feel his anger and hatred lessening, and therefore the pressure upon his arm was lessened as well. He truly needed the recent guidance as well, for he had received a mysterious letter not a day ago about a retrieval quest he was to perform if he so chose.

He would not say no without giving it due attention, and in truth he needed something to occupy him. He had spent too long chasing Orcs in the underbrush of the woods the past few tendays. The forest was his calling, but he longed for new places to go and faces to see. Brogach, his Elk, was of similar mind it seemed. For as he thought of such things, he could hear a snort in the background. A calm, small smile spread across his face. He turned to Brogach, his thick hair swaying. It was of a reddish brown hue, only darker than one would expect, oftentimes mistaken for true chocolate brown.

It seemed the Gods had spoken to him through his companion, and he felt that there was no better way to bring a message across. "Ready, my friend?" he asked. The Elk perked his great head up, staring at Calanon alertly before striding over to him, touching their noses together in a sign of friendship. Calanon smiled brightly and patted his friend's mane. "Let's go."

The two moved in unison, and the fit, nimble ranger leaped upon his steed's back, and they galloped forward. The trees before them were no obstacle at all for they, as the two had traversed thick forest paths for many years. They were only two days from the small village of Caldavail, and would be out of the forest thickets by morning tomorrow if they kept the pace steady.

Game of Thrones

<Snipped quote by POOHEAD189>

Do you boo boo.

@Asura

I dun wanna cheat on you. But we gots ta get goin'