POOHEAD189

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic pressed his blade to his throat a bit harder for a moment, then withdrew his broadsword and sheathed it. He'd already begun walking downstream. "Gilbrecht, hail the Pride and get this man onboard. We'll go ahead." The Ostland soldier didn't look back as he spoke. Gilbrecht shook his head. "If you think I'm going to just follow-"

"Do it now," Cyrdic said, turning to him. His voice was commanding and confident. He'd spent three years ordering footsoldiers about, and he knew how to keep someone from arguing when need be. That, and his rugged, Ostland 'brutishness' gave him quite the intimidating look when he needed to present himself as such. Gilbrecht glowered, and cast a look at Camilla, before nodding.

Skaldi snorted, and hefted his shield and Cleaver. "I sense no danger, manling. Not that it'd stop you, nor me," he said to Cyrdic. "Been too long since I wielded a weapon. Me ancestors must be spittin' on me," he intoned. Ivan gave a hearty laugh, seemingly overjoyed at their continuing the mission. He gravitated toward Camilla, his huge paunch almost hitting her quite a few times as they moved forward, following the river.

It was not long before they heard voices up ahead, and the companions had slipped into the treeline to get a better look without announcing their arrival. A tall, haggard pirate stood next to three long boats, barking at the remaining brigands who had fled back to their landing. Behind them was the river, the Talabec flowing as it always did to the west, though over a bend in the river, they could make out masts and a looming hill made of stone. A cove?

They needed to get to the longboats, but the brigands could easily cast off without a fight if they presented themselves. "Ve need bait," Ivan whispered (if he called that a whisper) and Skaldi looked at Camilla. She was far too legsy and boney for him, but he'd been around humans enough to know they thought she'd be attractive.

"C-...Vivvienne, we'll find a different way. If we rush them, we can grab the boats." Cyrdic said, reluctant to volunteer his companion into danger.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic had heard Camilla hissing in her native tongue, and he dearly hoped neither Ivan nor Skaldi spoke either Brettonian or Tilean. Instead, he did his best to act as if she had uttered Brettonian by completely ignoring it, instead focusing on his very real anger at this pirate here, accusing the villagers and making excuses for wanton murder. The cold steel of his broadsword pressed upon the man's neck had the brigand's eyes wide with horror.

Luckily for Cyrdic and Camilla, Ivan and Skaldi seemed perplexed at her sudden native outburst, but nothing came of it. The great Kislevite knew very little of the southern nations, and all manlings were manlings to the Dwarf. It was the last Sailor alive that seemed suspicious. A man named Gilbrecht, a long time sailor who audibly vied for the Quartermaster position on the Imperial Pride, but never did quite seem to make the cut to Captain Schmitt.

"Watch your tongue," Cyrdic said to the pirate, though he hoped Camilla heard it as well and took the hint. His next words were, of course, aimed solely at the Brigand. "If you fancy living, I'd give us an explanation, and the location of your hideout. Or if you'd prefer, I could give you to the horse lover."

"No need for name calling," Ivan comically replied touchily, the word calling sounding like 'Khal-eenkg.' Meanwhile, the Dwarf 'cook' sniffed the air, staring into the forest like a hound.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

A score of men was not good odds for them, Cyrdic thought darkly. But he'd be damned if he ran from common Brigands. Ivan roared like some great bear, and leaped into the fray like a whirling madman. Skaldi charged in like some short, ugly bull, shield leading. He must have broken two men's legs just by his bullrush. If one looked closely, you could see the cleaver hacking up and down within the mob of men.

Cyrdic had carefully aimed his pistol, and fire into the heart of them as they'd rushed the lesser group, scoring a kill. He was no marksmen, but he was good under pressure. With that, and cried out "For the Empire!" which, in hindsight, was a bit odd considering the Empire wished him imprisoned or dead. The muscled Ostlander cut unto the small line of brigands that had their attentions elsewhere, before engaging in smaller duels, blocking with his shield and splitting stomach and skulls when the opportunity presented itself. It left the flanks wide open for Camilla and the other two Sailors.

To the would-be murderer's dismay, the group did not seem to be going down quite so easily as they had hoped. A few of the men in the back began backpedalling, which left the men at the front that much thinner in numbers. Cyrdic knew a route when he saw one, and cried out a premature roar of victory as he hamstrung one of the fleeing pirates. His punched him with the hilt of his broadsword, sagging the man to the ground. They would need someone to question...
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

An hour later, Cyrdic, Camilla, Ivan, and three Sailors who had claimed combat experience had hopped on two of the dingies and sailed to the northern shore of the Talabec. The Dwarf Cook had joined them, wielding a cleaver and a Dwarf shield he must have kept in his own quarters. He introduced himself as Skaldi Forgehammer. The eight unlikely companions had taken two small dingies, the boats having been dragged back across to the Imperial Pride via ropes having been attached to them.

The forest was thick and heavy, and if Cyrdic had to guess, they were within the lower reaches of the Drakwald. Maybe not as life-risking as traveling further in, but a dangerous place to be. He'd only been near the upper reaches once, but the stories of the monsters he'd heard made his experiences with the Norscans seem tame. Bullmen made of cast iron, Chimeras, Dragons, not to mention Orcs and Beastmen.

He suddenly felt as if he should have taken his bastard sword. Somehow, he felt it would have protected him from the more otherworldly beasts. Still, he'd never met something he and his broadsword had not gotten the better of so far, and into the dark they traveled. Cyrdic made sure to never go too fast, keeping Camilla close so he could protect her. Not that she was harmless, by any means.

Skaldi trudged through the thickets as inexorable as a bull, chopping clean through any roots that dared tried to impeded his feet. He seemed tireless. Ivan strode as far ahead as he dared, the big man's short legs surprisingly nimble, though he had a rolling gait as if he was so used to riding horses, that walking on flat ground was unfamiliar territory.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

The man coughed up water mixed with blood, eyes glazed from the loss of so much bodily fluid. One of the sailors kept him upright by Cyrdic's request, and the soldier bent down to examine the wound. He was no physician, but he'd seen arrow wounds before. "Hold still, man." Cyrdic told him. "We'll get you back to the boat."

With that, he ordered the younger sailors to row back, and he told Camilla to keep a lookout for any other live ones as they returned to the Imperial Pride. Cyrdic lifted the man over his shoulder to hand to the sailors aboard. He knew if they could clean the wound and keep him from losing too much blood, he'd live. "Hold..." the injured man croaked weakly. Cyrdic and the sailors halted for a moment. "Pirates ahead...hit us from the trees...and the water. Thought they were a merchant ship...My Brumhilda...where is she?"

He passed out as they carried him below decks. Cyrdic reached down to grip Camilla's hand, helping her onto the deck just as they were making landfall on the southern side of the Talabec. He patted her shoulder somberly.

"Sigmar's fucking hammer," Schmitt said. "Make all of the precautions you can, and brigands will not only ruin the trip, but slaughter good imperial men and women."

The Dwarf cook muttered something in Khazalid, his burly arms crossed as he watched the scene before them. His brown beard was intricately braided, his hair long at the back. "The ship needs some repairs anyway, Cap'n. Nothing too much, but she's long overdue for some basic look overs. That and the sudden stop unhooked a few of the finer linings."

"We'll need men to clear out the blockade, Cap'n," a sailor said from atop the main mast.

"And we won't go no further unless we're sure'n its safe, right Cap'n?" another said.

"I'm not Sigmar man! Give me a minute to think here..."
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic had missed Camilla's gaze, but there was no way he could miss the bottle. She'd thrust it into his face just when he donned the cloak. He blinked, and grabbed it. He'd never had the money for Tilean wine, so why not try it? The rugged soldier took a swig, and the drink caressed his taste buds with what he perceived to be the far off land his companion hailed from. "Tasty," he admitted. "Not as strong as I'm used to. But I'll say this much." He smiled. "I can't imagine something better for barge travel."

The next day or so was relaxing. It was almost unnerving to him, having been traveling the countryside to fight for the Baron of Ostland, and then surviving both his escape of said Baron, and the middle mountains. It seemed a bit too easy for him the first day. Though as the second dragged on, he began to feel himself relax. If only he and Camilla could speak to each other without feigning identities, it would have been 'lovely.' A word as foreign to him as Araby.

He'd just finished a meal on the 2nd day when the excitement happened, and he was nearly yanked off the Barge from the sudden stop. "That's more like it," he muttered sarcastically. It was one thing after another, he guessed. Still, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't made for this kind of life. His muscled arms had gripped the side railing, holding him in place for the most part as the barge had jerked.

The barge halted and drifted in a short spin, drifting close enough to the huge wall of flame that Cyrdic could feel the heat from it. "Ulfric's beard, Captain!" he called to Schmitt, the man barking orders now turning to Cyrdic. "We need to send some dingies out to help them!"

Schmitt halted for a moment, but only a moment. "Good man, Reiner. My men are beholden elsewhere, but if you find a few willing, Grab a few of the lads and head out there to help! You're on your own until I can secure the ship to shore."
@Penny

Into The Dark: Mercenaries (Heroes of Fame and Fortune)

4 days to go for everyone!

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

"Indeed I did, Fraulien," he said to her as he stepped on board. He had on new traveling boots and dark brown, baggy breeches, but had waited to change into his other clothes below decks, following Camilla downward into their small room. He hauled the pack off his back, and set it down. It must have weighed nearly as much as Camilla, but he had placed it down as if putting down his tankard.

"Hey, you're the one with the crown," he joked lightly, winking at her. His spirits had lifted quite a bit since their recent surplus of funds, and the exiliration that they had so far survived both the authorities, and monsters from the deep of the world. It gave a man confidence, or at least a better appreciation at life. "No trouble. Once or twice I nearly ran into guardsmen. Not that they would be looking for us yet, but it pays to stay under their radar."

He opened the pack, and then stripped off his ripped shirt. The cloth fell off to the side, revealing hard muscle and far too many scars for someone his age. He fished his hand in the bag, producing a new linen shirt, following by a handsome vest, along with a green cape with tan and red hemlines that gave him the look of a forester noble once he donned it. He placed on himself his old chainmail, just below his vest. He'd buy more expensive armor when they were further south.

"Also, saw this in the market. Thought you could use a treat," he told her, handing her a bottle of old Tilean wine. He himself had bought some hearty, Ostland ale. "I've got some food too. Cheese, salted beef, honey and bread if we need it...Taal willing we move quickly. Middenlanders need all of the Mercenaries they can get I hear. The Drakwald is full of beasts."

He drew himself up, and strapped on his broadsword. He'd keep his ornate bastard sword below decks. Shouldn't draw too much suspicion or wonder at the moment. He gave her the almost grim nod of a comrade. He'd been surprised when she had decided to stick together with him. Though honestly, her spirited personality clashed with his gruff views perfectly. They soon felt the barge shift from beneath them.
@Penny

Warhammer Fantasy - Call of Chaos

@Andreyich AH YES. I remember now. Sure, as long as don't take Ostland or the Moot, Marienburg is fine.

Warhammer Fantasy - Call of Chaos

@AndreyichIf all you have is the Moot and Ostermark, then take Marienburg as well. Though I'd like to know how you own two-three different places that aren't connected lol.