POOHEAD189

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic was a bit more used to stink than Camilla. Smelling the armpits of a Norscan as you grappled for your life was about as bad as the sewers, though he had not had the pleasure in some months so it took him a moment to be truly used to the smell. He decided to rip off a piece of his tattered shirt, and he was going to wrap it around his mouth, before he decided to give it to Camilla, wrapping it about her lower face as she took his other pistol. He nearly snorted. She looked like a brigand.

Cyrdic heard Von Koneinswald speak of Sigmar, and he felt an intense surge of righteousness flowing through him as well, only for Ulric. He felt a warmth coming from his sword, and his broad chest swelled, jaw clenching. He knew that up ahead was something that needed to be slain, and swiftly. He caught himself from charging forward when Camilla squeezed his shoulder, and he glanced her way. She was saving his ass even when she didn't realize it.

He was surprised at himself. Usually he was calm and collected, albeit strong in nature. He'd not felt passion in such a wild and violent sense in a long time. He noticeably sighed, and then willed himself to his normal calm, soldier's reserve. He stepped forward, keeping in front of his two companions with their pistols at the ready.

He could almost imagine Skaldi muttering about the shoddy humanwork that led to the crack in the wall. Surprisingly, Cyrdic could tell what parts were carved by men and what parts were Dwarf in nature, from the designs that he caught with the lantern-light. Up ahead, the musky scent grew more powerful, and he turned off his lamp as he moved forward.

Oddly enough, he didn't need it. A sickly, green light emanated up ahead and bathed the next hall of filth in an unnatural light. His breath caught, and he moved forward more slowly, his face looked to be carved from stone.

Once the three rounded the corner, they would see a grey-furred Skaven, with a horned helm. He held aloft a small glowing rock, that seemed to warp reality around its paw. Luckily, it was not very large and not nearly as potent, but it was dangerous nonetheless. Before the Skaven was a man, cloaked and hidden, reaching for the stone. Six other Skaven flanked the leader, black furred, armored, and carrying wicked halberds.

"This shall do excellent," the man said in Riekspeil.

"Be not greedy, man-thing! Tomorrow is the time, not yet. Man-thing must not forget our deal..." the horned one replied, chittering and lashing its tail.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

"I can't agree more," Cyrdic said to the Witch Hunter, wincing again at the pain before scooping Camilla up and setting her on her feet along with he. The Ostlander cleared his throat, and felt the wind stinging against his near bare-back. But he felt more than ready to kill chaos filth. Not only had they been suspect and killed a (mostly) innocent woman, but they'd ruined his night. At least their attacks had led a lead for the three of them.

He picked up his fallen sword. "It's not a Beastman," he said. "It's a Skaven."

"I know." Koneinswald said, examining the corpse. Cyrdic was taken aback, surprised. The Templar chuckled darkly. "Yes, I know most don't believe they exist. Most Witch Hunters don't either. But I've seen them once or twice. Middenlanders swear they exist, and keep up daily patrols under the sewers for them. Or they had, up until a few months previous when the Sewer jacks were reduced severely. Only someone high up could have called for such an action, though I am certain it was not the Graf. His exploits against Khazrak One-Eye are well known enough." He shook his head. "No, the heretic is someone else. But someone close..."

Cyrdic absorbed the information. He understood now why the Witch Hunter had deduced someone high up had been a follower of chaos, and why such heretics were within the city. Middenheim was far too powerful to be beseiged from without, or below. Unless someone weakened its soft underbelly, and infected it from within.

He lifted his pistol, standing at the ready. "I was hoping to go alone, but if you two are here already, you might as well accompany me below. That is, if you wish to find some answers in this cursed Fortress city."
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic cursed when he thought he'd lost the trail. The Ostlander was certain that the short man had gone this way. Both his surety and sense of danger rose when he heard the gunshot from behind him. He spun, sword leading to fend off any would-be attack, only for him to bear witness to two separate things.

He saw Camilla above him on the roofs, which wasn't too surprisingly now that he had the split second to realize it. It was what she had shot that surprised him. It was short and covered in a cloak, but he saw the unmistakable brown fur and worm-like tail he had grown to loathe. He didn't know what Skaven were doing here, but he needn't worry about this one. It was on the ground, writing and bleeding. He was about to finish it off when he heard Camilla let out an awkward cry from above.

She hit the roof, and began to slide downward. His eyes went from the Skaven who began to pick himself up, to Camilla. "Shallya's tits!" he cried, sprinting for all he was worth out of the short alley and into the next one, just in time to see Camilla sliding off and free falling two dozen feet to the hard ground.

He dropped his sword and leaped, big arms catching her at the last moment. She was light, but even a light person was a heavy object when falling from such heights. He grunted, and had to jerk his body in the air so he would land below her, skidding across the street along his back. He could feel the stone digging into his skin from behind, but he gritted his teeth.

He let out a groan of pain, and coughed as the dust settled. Camilla would be more or less ok, but Cyrdic's shirt would be shredded and his back would be cut in a few small places. Despite this, he laughed weakly. "I don't think Middenheim agrees with you," he said. He felt another stab of pain, and sat up, Camilla's body sliding down onto his lap. "Or me." He said. He was about to get up, but his body was sore. He needed another moment.

"Thanks for saving me," he breathed. "Ulric's beard, that was a Skaven."
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic's head lifted up, and he approached Camilla from behind. His eyes widened when he looked over her shoulders, and he coughed from the shock of seeing Bella dead, almost gagging. He'd seen far worse, of course. But when one didn't expect it, and when it was someone whom he'd physically admired not days before, it was an odd and unsettling experience to see them dead, black, and bloated.

"What's the meaning of this?" a voice called down from the end of the hall. The Inn keeper had squinting, bloodshot eyes as if he had just been awakened. "All of this yelling in my establishment. I'll-" he stopped mid sentence when he saw the corpse, and he breathed 'by Ulric' to himself. Cyrdic shook his head, heading past the corpse and to the opened window.

The wind ruffled his linen shirt and caused his hair to sway, but his eyes steeled and remained true. He knew he had seen movement two alleys down, a shadow that had caused a disturbance in Morrsliebs light. It must have been a trick of the eyes, but he was certain he'd seen a tail. Behind him, he heard the renewed wailing of the lover, crying out Bella's name.

"Dammit," he uttered, and turned to Camilla. "I saw someone. I'm going." he said. He didn't know if she was or was not up to go out. When she tossed him his sword, he grinned when he caught it. "And who ever said Bretonnians aren't helpful?" He joked darkly, to keep up the charade of their guises before the distraught citizenry. With that, he leaped down onto the first floor's roof, and then leaped off that to hit the stone street by his boots, charging off into the dark.

He had not checked to see if Camilla was behind him. He felt like they were an effective team, but he'd also have been relieved if she'd stayed for now. Either way, he charged forward like a wolf on the hunt, turning into the alleyway just in time to see the barest hint of a shadow disappear to the left. He kept running, turning this way and that as the chaos moon loomed down from above. It wasn't long until he had reached a dead end, and no killer in sight. Merely a sewer hole.
@Penny

The Valencia - [High Fantasy, Pirates]

Not a long post, but I made it so whoever wanted to have a drink with Galen, could.

The Valencia - [High Fantasy, Pirates]

Galen the Quartermaster

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Sailor / Duelist / Swordsman Extraordinaire

@Sputnik@BurningCold@SuperNova9000@LordofthePies@Sabotage@LadyTabris

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Galen chuckled at Fujin's comment. "Just not the notable worth of trouble," he corrected himself with. "A pirate's trouble in a new port'll only give you a rope around your neck." He leaped, and landed amid the crew members as they'd gathered. He gave sailors a wink. "I for one, have far more ambitious plans."

With that, the Quartermaster made his way into the town. He might by wily, and perhaps even a bit rogueish, he wouldn't have been recommended as Quartermaster if he wasn't a responsible man as well. He kept check of the sun to determine the time of day. He wouldn't be late for the gathering of when they'd go off into the wilderness. He felt keen on meeting their new healer as well. He'd met a few, and knew they were always in high demand.

Other than gathering a few supplies, and winning a small knife throwing bet that brought him a few coins, he'd not done much about town. Soon he found himself in the local Tavern, having himself a drink. He'd sit here until it was time to head further inland. He had a few more coins to spend, so why not?

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

Just a heads up, the collab I posted for Dervs and I is actually a two-part collab. We're working on getting the second half up here soon.

@MacabreFox

Hiya! GM sporting a large caste of RP'ers here!

@The Executive92Hello! I am not a mod on the site, but as someone who migrated over to this site from an older one that used to use multiple threads, I know it can be a tough transition. But it's surprisingly easy once you get yourself into it. An easy way to differentiate posts is to use the [hr ] code.
Like so

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It creates a separate space to post with.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic's brow furrowed once more, staring at his ale as she spoke about her experience. He'd wasn't entirely sure if he had ever experienced what she was describing, but he had heard chaos was never coherent, or experienced the same with anyone. Perhaps that was why it was named such. He looked back up to her, and listened intently.

"Anger had always helped me. I suppose I'm not as learned in such matters, despite my past. Most chaos worshipers I've fought slaughtered innocents in the open. I was never quite lured in with such a manner," he said, chuckling in embarrassment. His grin faded when he felt her hand fall upon his.

His face grew hot when she stared into his eyes and thanked him. Immediately the realization he'd had on the street came flooding back into him. His tongue seemed a bit too big for his mouth, and he didn't know what to say even if he could speak. He felt like he looked the fool, but his lips parted, and he was just about to move closer as well until he was broken out of his reverie from a loud banging from the door.

He blinked, looking about as confused as a hound whose master had only acted like he'd thrown the ball. He exchanged a look with Camilla, and told her to stay there as he went to open the door. The powerful and lean sergeant headed for the entrance, and unlatched it, before opening it fully.

He immediately staggered back from a punch. The man who'd thrown it looked between Camilla and Cyrdic's age. Young, but strong. Cyrdic was sure he'd seen him before in passing. He punched at Cyrdic again, only for the soldier to catch the fist with his forearm, and headbutt the man in turn. Cyrdic's head split the man's lip, and he was soon doubled over by a strong hit from Cyrdic, who had him on the ground with another strike.

"What the hell do you want," Cyrdic demanded, standing over him. He placed a boot on the man's back, and the Middenheimer grimly looked up at Cyrdic with hate filled eyed. "Who's the whore?" he asked, spitting in the direction of Camilla. "Haven't you had enough with my woman?"

Cyrdic blinked again. "Explain."

"Oh, already forgotten eh?" he asked, and shoved Cyrdic's boot off him. Cyrdic backed up, standing between the obviously insane man and Camilla. The attacker cracked his knuckles as he rose, but made no more moves against Cyrdic for the moment. "You and my woman, Bella."

"I don't know a Bella," Cyrdic said.

"Don't give me that! Ulric, she's been your waitress for the past week! I've seen how you've looked at each other. I've heard her giggling with the other girls about you!"

It dawned on the young sergeant what he was implying, and Cyrdic snorted. "Listen, I've not touched her. And even if I had, why would you be blaming me and not her? She'd be the one cheating," he said bluntly.

"Don't give me that!" he cried.

"You oaf, why would I go after your girl? I've already-" he began, waving his hand toward Camilla. He was about to dismiss and use the lovers story as to why he and the Brettonian lady were living together. But when his grey eyes fell on Camilla again, it didn't quite feel like a story anymore. He looked at her, his next words breathy. "I've already found someone."
@Penny

Dungeons and (Krayt) Dragons, Star Wars: The Price of Freedom

I'm going to be the muscle.