POOHEAD189

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic winked at her, and then turned back to the killer who's face was now stark white with terror. "You best have good information, or we'll be cooking a murderer tonight." the soldier said, his voice's surety pretty much hammered the nail into the coffin for this man. "I never seen their faces!" he cried, hyperventilating.

Sweat beaded down his bloodied and bruised face. "I've been working for these chaps the past few months, see? They knew where to find me. Knew I was someone good at getting things down without asking questions." Cyrdic glanced to Camilla, and then turned back to the thug. "Go on."

"Most of the time I'm given letters and such on what to do, with payment inside. This time I get met by someone. Only the second time I did. Only this chap was different than the first. He spoke all posh-like. Told me I was doing the Graf a service, and gave me an extra gift. A-A seal. Told me I'd need it to get in here and talk to the pretty girl!"

Cyrdic asked where it was, and when the man told him the back pocket, Cyrdic produced a wolf seal just as the ones Camilla and Cyrdic had. "Said I'd use it to convince the girl to take me to the room, so I could ask her about you two."

"Torture her." Cyrdic corrected. The man squirmed. "I was just following orders!"

Cyrdic's next punch knocked the man out before he could even cry out. It was so powerful that it knocked his chair back after snapping his head to the side, and he fell onto the ground. Cyrdic let out a breath, obviously fuming from the plea of innocence from such a man. That, and all of the danger to Camilla, and being roughed up himself. He growled, and tried to calm himself, closing his eyes.
@Penny

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

I must agree with @IceHeart. While I am all for people of different races (I'm mixed, myself) being portrayed in media, recently they've compromised media in order to promote an agenda. Movie studios are casting people specifically because they are minorities, instead of casting the best actor choices.

@mdkHonestly Idras Elba being made into Roland was the dumbest thing. He's literally modeled after Clint Eastwood, and they went with Idras Elba because he was black. That's the most base example of compromising media.

Honestly, I feel like this is just as bad as casting actors because they are conventionally attractive. Like the Dwarves in the Hobbit movies. Those are not the Dwarves from the Hobbit (I should know, I used to read it once a year in school. Read it about 6-7 times). Yet they cast these male models, and these very skinny men, into Dwarves. I fucking hated it (I'm a huge Dwarf fan if you cannot tell).

All I want is consistency. Just be accurate with who you cast, and stray true to what the story is. Don't bring politics or sex appeal into a story, at least to the point it compromises it.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic felt intense sympathy for both Camilla and the young boys. He met Camilla's eyes, and gave her a nod. His look told her to be strong, and she was doing all that she needed to do. "Boys," he said suddenly, and headed over to them. He placed his hand on the younger one's shoulder.

It was an odd thing. Cyrdic might not act like it, but he was still quite young himself. It was his powerful voice, and the scars, that made him stand out. That, and being a personal guest to the Graf and an adventurer didn't hurt. "Good job. You two should be proud." he said, bolstering them in their time of mourning. "Now, one of you get the lady her ink and pen, and the other set up a pair of baths. There'll be good coin in it for you." His reassuring smile got them to their feet as much as the clear order he had given.

And then, the 'older brother' figure turned into a wrathful soldier of the empire, his eyes grimly set on the captured man. "Get up," he growled, grabbing the man by the shirt and lifting him up. As the young men went off to do their duties, the big man now saw his chance to break free, and attempted to shove Cyrdic to the ground.

The Ostlander sidestepped and kicked the legs out from under him, anticipating the move. He smacked into the wooden planks of the floor, until Cyrdic lifted him back up and slugged him. "You think I've never dealt with prisoners before?" he said, gripping the man's arms in an iron grip and shoving him into an empty room. Before he strode in there, he told Camilla to write the letter and not to worry about the prisoner. He'd deal with him.

A few hard punches, and a broken finger later, the man looked ready to break down. Still tied and bound, only his gag had been removed.

"Alright! Alright!" he cried after his nose had been broken. Cyrdic wiped the blood off his knuckles. "Talk, or your neck breaks next."

Camilla entered the room as he said it, and Cyrdic casually asked if the bath was ready.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic's eyes were wide as he saw the unholy magic being unleashed. The Ostlander gazed down at his sword, confused as to why he had just stood there. Even eager to meet the magic head-on. Yes he had been caught unawares by it, but even at the last second, he had chosen to face it instead of getting out of its way. He was just glad both of his companions had the weight that could knock him to the side.

Cyrdic thanked Camilla and herr Koneinswald, checking if they were ok before making his way back to the mouth of the sewer, and peered inward with the torch.

Nothing. Cyrdic breathed a sigh of relief, glad they had at least dealt some damage to those chaos lovers. If there was one thing he'd never get tired of, it was that. His shirt was tatters, his back scraped, and his body covered in grime, but he felt satisfied with what they'd accomplished, even if it wasn't nearly enough to make him comfortable.

Tomorrow night, there would be an attack on the city, and the Count's ball. Cyrdic and Camilla needed to tell the Chamberlain. Though who this 'red lady' was, he couldn't guess.

Koneinswald cleared his throat, and helped Camilla up before dusting himself off. "Vile filth," he spat. "Why any man would break bread with a ratkin is beyond me." The Witcher checked his remaining shot and powder, speaking almost casually. "I assume you two will be at tomorrow's daemon summoning?"

Cyrdic snorted at the joke. "We'll look out best too." he said.

"I'll be searching the poor district, though I might show myself there as well. Unseen, of course. If I were to walk in, the time for subtlety would be over."
@Penny

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

The bellowing of the confused Troll was drowned out by the shrieks of the bloodthirsty Rogs. Some leaped into the green fog, only to stumble back out coughing and sputtering. They wished nothing more than to eviscerate the group that now looked to be fleeing. Beren nodded his 'your welcome' to Settionne, and led them down three alleyways as towards Calanon. "I'm not sure what way it is, ask him when we see him," Beren said breathlessly, referring to Calanon. His tanned and muscled arms were covered in grime and blood, belonging to him and the Rogs.

Argon could move almost as fast as Ursaren, able to lope about on all four of his legs as well. His body moved side to side like an alligator or monitor lizard, but he stood upright and unsheathed his sword once more when he made it to the group. "Friendssss! I wish not to run from these pesssts, but I sssshall follow you!" he declared, and guarded the rear as they moved, mirroring Ursaren's vanguard action.

"Don't worry, lass. If we're to be goin' underground, I'll keep ye safe," Geradin said, his beard bouncing as he trotted along with the party. He was actually running as fast as he could, which was merely a quick jog to the rest of them. He muttered something about 'cursed long legs' in Dwarvish, which had Beren laughing.

Their fourth turn led them into a much wider street, akin to the last one that had subsequently turned into a battleground. Across the way, they saw Calanon perched atop a building. A building who's first story had collapsed inwards, leading into a tunnel twice as wide as the alleys they had just traversed. Beren shrugged, and looked to Alice. "At least it's roomy," he joked.

As he spoke, Brogach the Elk trotted out of the underground passage way, shaking its shaggy head. Calanon leaped off the building, landing easily on his feet. "I've searched it for a bit when I found it. I thought if I was lost from the group, might do well to search. It's a long tunnel."

Beren wasn't very keen on going underground, but he knew if they stayed above ground, the Rogs would track them down. "Alright, take a minute to bite something to eat and light your torches, we gotta go."
@Banana@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen@BCTheEntity

WARHAMMER 40K: THE TARSON INCURSION

@Rithy You dare question the Empress? HERETIC!

Hider

Also I'm swamped with RP's but I was totally tempted to PM you about your 1x1. Good luck with it btw :)

The Lord of the Rings: The Age of Men

@omni023 I do not think it's possible to erase it. Please put it into a hider, if you're going to post it.

The Elder Scrolls: Oblivion - Crimson Skies

Gonna be getting a Bardeck post 'ere soon enough, lads and lasses!

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic exchanged a surprised look with Camilla. He took a moment to absorb all of the information, and it still made little sense. Why would he and Camilla be specifically...odd to their machinations? The soldier sighed, and realized it didn't pay to dwell on such things. The best thing to do was to act, but at the same time he didn't want to be discovered. If they thought he and Camilla were either none-the-wiser, or dead, best to keep these ratmen and this heretic that way.

But Ulric and Sigmar be damned if he was going to let them escape, too. He knew their vision in the dark was too good for his face to be hidden. It was when he looked back at Camilla that he had an idea.

"I'll not be letting these chaos-filth leave here alive," Von Koneinswald said. Cyrdic ripped another part off his shirt and wrapped it around his face to conceal his identity, just as Camilla had on hers. "Nor me, herr Templar." Cyrdic said grimly, and hefted his sword. He gave a nod to he and Camilla. "Keep your face covered, and stay close behind me," he told her.

The next few seconds happened far too quickly. Cyrdic stepped out into the hall, flashing the Skaven and man with a sudden light. "Oi lads! I found them!" He cried. He wasn't as good at impressions as Camilla, but he felt he caught the low-born sewer jack drawl. He waited until the sewers were filled with the smoke and cracks of gunpowder weapons from behind him, and he charged with his sword leading.

The man cursed, and promptly tried to leap across the filth, barely grabbing on to the otherside, scrambling up as he attempted to flee. The grey-skaven screeched, a bullet in its gut, courtesy of the Witch Hunter. He cried for the remaining skaven to attack, calling them Storm Vermin in broken reikspeil.

Cyrdic desperately wished he had brought his shield. The first halberd thrust from one of the remaining Storm vermin nearly stuck him. He knocked it aside with his sword and closed in, hacking at its neck. The thing ducked, magic metal meeting the black steel of its helm. Cyrdic kicked, knocking it back and staggering it long enough for him to run it through in a vulnerable spot in its armor.

He unceremoniously shoved the dying vermin into the drink. There were three Stormvermin left, and one dragged away the leading Skaven as the other two attacked.
@Penny

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

@Fetzen@The Fated Fallen@BCTheEntity@Banana@Sypherkhode822
I host D&D Wednesday nights, but I am still planning on posting today! If it is impossible, tomorrow before work for sure.