POOHEAD189

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

He could empathize with her dismissal. Being a soldier was his only real option in life. It just happened to be Heldenhammer's grace that he was a natural at it. "A minstrel," he replied to her. "Though they often draw attention. Or attempt to." His eyes switched to the tapestry she had worn to warm her. "Speaking of which, when we make it out of here, you staying cloaked might be the best idea. And we'd need a story on who we are. I don't even think the Baron knows my name, but just to be safe I'll assume a name until we reach past Middenland."

He never enjoyed lying. Life was so much simpler when you just spoke what was. "Minstrel or Mercenary, both travel," he said with a shrug, his broad shoulders rose and fell like an ocean wave. "Not sure where I'll travel. Only I'd need to keep moving, too. Only way to get money, and to make sure I'm not discovered either. I doubt I would be, but I don't intend to die before it's a time of my choosing."

Abruptly, he came up with a name. "When we're on the Talabec, call me Reiner. I could be your bodyguard, if anyone asks."
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

He let out a snort at her attempting to speak with a gruff Imperial accent, and the ridiculous line she spoke. He actually started to chuckle. Cyrdic had to admit he must sound very odd in Tilea, or anywhere south of the World's Edge Mountains. But she'd traveled more than he. He'd definitely not be able to speak Tilean. Briefly, he wondered if he'd need to learn it at some point. Maybe the Empire wasn't big enough to escape a Baron's wrath.

"Suppose that's lucky," he replied, poking the fire with a stick. He'd begun to down some of the Nordland jerky himself. "To be given a place to stay. Though the services..."

Cyrdic shook his head. "I guess I'll be a Sellsword. Work for anyone who'll pay me. Fighting is all I know, so..." He shrugged. "I've not got much of a choice." He began to think aloud. "But, I guess it's not all bad. Mercenaries make their own hours, travel...long as you don't mind going hungry every now and then, you can manage. I can manage." He sounded as if he was speaking to himself. What he'd need to do would be to sign up with any outsider noble to whatever province he was at. No, start low. Maybe a sewer watchman.

"But you're able to do whatever you want. Outside of Ostland that is. What's your plan?"

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

He grinned at her, and he patted her on the head. Not in a dismissive way, but in a warm way. "I've seen you duel. Not half bad, honestly. That and your morale? You'll make a fine adventurer, I'd say." He said. He didn't mention the Damsel part, because he thought she played that part quite well. Though whether he was quiet because it might either offend her, or him not wanting to admit he was attracted to her, he didn't rightly know. Didn't matter anyway. She certainly had the spirit for this dangerous road.

As the fire glowed, Cyrdic sat down opposite of Camilla. He often kept quiet when he wasn't barking orders or giving snappy comebacks to fellow troops. He took the time to gaze around the room. Elven work was something else. Dwarf was utilitarian, but ornate. Human work varied, depending on the province. These sculptures flowed and twisted with a barely perceptible grace, far beyond human craftsmanship. He briefly wondered if they used witchery to carve the statues and desks. The stories of Elves capturing his countrymen for slaves brought a spark of anger in his visage for a moment.

"Hmmm?" He replied, his ears twitching from the unexpected question like a hound. One muscled arm rested over a raised knee, the other leg out, his free arm resting on his lap. Until he reached up to his face once again, to brush a finger along scars both old and new. "Well, apart from my helping you, I don't think they'd welcome back a soldier that failed to protect the Baron's son. It was my duty and I failed. I...I'm local to Ostland. But I've been around. Sometimes the Baron sends us to aid provinces he wants to make nice with."

His thoughts drifted, and he found his brown eyes lingering on the fire as well. In the flames, he saw spurts of blood as his memory took hold of him. "I've fought the Northern Barbarian's twice. The Chaos dogs from across the sea. Norscans. First time was in Nordland, and the second time at home on the coast. It's how I got the shield," he said, and patted the robust round shield lain next to him. "But I'm sure my stories would bore you."

His eyes left the fire and fell on her, the flames dancing on his eyes. "Do all people speak like you in Tilea?" He asked bluntly. Cyrdic's queries often sounded like he was questioning people in a challenging way. Perhaps Camilla would be used to it by now (or simply think it was an Ostlander thing) but it was just how he spoke. He never meant to seem too rough. "How did you come by Ostland? Do you have a home in Tilea?" Suddenly, the thought crossed his mind. "Is that why you're heading south with me? To head home?"
@Penny

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

All @Penny is saying is that it's a scientifically conceivable theory that has not been disproved, and many scientists are considering it as making sense. She even conceding since we don't know all of what nature has in store for us, that it might be disproved. I'm not certain if we've gained more understanding in this field since last I checked, but people use Quantum Physics, which do/did act outside the laws of what we perceive as logical, to dismiss the 'no free will' theory. But Idk now.
@mdk

Also goodnight! @SleepingSilence

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

@SleepingSilence XD. No worries. Also don't feel so alone. I'm a Christian, myself.

Also I'm an Independent, politically. And by that, I don't mean I vote for the Independent party. They've given Independents a bad name, recently. I mean I vote without party affiliation. I wasn't overly fond of Hillary Clinton becoming president, but I will happily say I voted for her because I was/am anti-Trump. I don't hate the guy, but he's a clear fool. His last 120+ days have proven it all over the board. Though I'm starting to think I'd rather him than Mitch McConnell handle our healthcare.

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

@SleepingSilenceThere's many scientific theories out there on whether or not we do or do not have free will. Some theorize that the universe expands and contracts in the same exact way, therefore you and I could have been born and dead a thousand times over without us ever knowing it. (I.E. meaning the big bang has happened multiple times, and we are none the wiser) Because since the universe would, theoretically expand in the same way as it always has everytime, and contract in the same way, all things in every expansion have been the exact same. It's just different theories. Doesn't have anything to do with their faith (sorry I used an elaborate example).

WARHAMMER 40K: THE TARSON INCURSION

Sounds like a good idea to me.

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

<Snipped quote by Penny>
In part.

and once more, racism is prejudice towards, not hate of a race

@Andreyich

I think hate is pretty prejudice.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Most of the women he's grown up with were country folk. Hardy and sharp of wit, but pragmatic and even less educated than he (at least after his service with the Quartermaster). He'd never met a woman who had read or attended plays, much less foreign ones. At least, he'd never met one that didn't immediately look passed him for his humble origins. It was odd having one for a travel companion, but not unwelcome, he realized. Even if he didn't understand the appeal of gaudy actors up on stage.

He blinked when she spoke of the eyes, and he turned to gaze around the room. "I don't know," he said. He almost found himself embarrassed of those words being his every other sentence, but this was something he'd never seen before. This place was obviously Elven, but he'd never heard of Elves living in the Old World. He'd thought only the Dwarfs made refuge here. The only tales of Middle Mountains he had heard were of Orcs and Goblins, and those tales seemed all too real now. The lack of eyes was disturbing enough, but the scratch marks along the eyelids brought a cold chill up his spin.

He saw Camilla jump a bit, and he wasn't surprised she was frightened. It took him a moment to realize her intake of air was suddenly halted. "Camilla?" He asked, and when she didn't, couldn't, answer, he leaped to his feet. "Norscan's balls, ok Camilla hold still!" he ordered, and he wrapped his powerful arms around her waist. He kept her steady, and then suddenly pressed into her lower abdomen. Nothing. He did it again, and the second time shot the jerky out of her throat and onto the floor.

When he heard her gasps, he breathed a sigh of relief. "You ok?" He breathed in her ear. And he thought he'd have to worry about Orcs. This woman gave him enough worry, it seemed.
@Penny