POOHEAD189

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

When the Ostland mercenary hit the ground, he'd been knocked into unconsciousness for many minutes. He knew nothing but darkness, and for all he knew he could already be dead. But then he felt an ache. And moisture along his face, and a soothing voice drifting into his ears. The young man opened his eyes, the floor underneath him as unforgiving as his wounds. He felt stabbing pain and aches every time he even testing shifting.

"I'm glad you're alive," he murmured, still looking terribly out of it. He must have been dreaming, he told himself. Surely no one could have survived the Chaos onslaught and the Dragon. Not he, nor Camilla. This must have been the realm of Morr, he thought to himself, until the pain in his body stung him yet again. He didn't think he'd have kept the same broken form in the underworld. Which meant he must be in one of the cellars...

He coughed, actually trying to laugh in disbelief at their surviving. The mirth was good. It woke him up a bit more, and he realized after collecting his thoughts, Camilla had been taking care of him. The sergeant reached up, and took her hand in his, before kissing it. "Thanks," he told her. The warmth in his eyes spoke volumes, before he gritted his teeth and did his best to sit up.

"Sigmar," he groaned, realizing he must have had several broken bones. A rib, perhaps an arm, and possibly a hip.

Still, he wasn't about to leave his partner without help. They were a team after all, if not more. He wasn't quite sure. But then again, they hadn't had the time to talk about it. He opened one eye as he sat up fully, and saw the predicament they were in. "Figures," he grunted. "Are you alright?"
@Penny

Vaults of Karak Zorn - [Warhammer Fantasy Dogs of War RP]

I'm thinking of either a group of Slayers, a group of Dwarfs that were rivals of the clans of Karak Zorn so they aren't too picky about picking through the treasures, or a mixed bunch for a regiment, with a Borderlander Prince at its head.

Vaults of Karak Zorn - [Warhammer Fantasy Dogs of War RP]

Count me in, Umgi. I love the idea of commanding a Dogs of War unit.

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 took a swig of his drink, lounging at one of the chairs of the desk. One of his boots rested on the outer cropping of one of the table's legs. He'd asked for a hearty whiskey, wanting something to bullrush his senses a bit. Or at least clear his sinuses. He'd felt a tad stuffy whenever he'd gone below decks to check all of the inventory the crew had. The spray of the sea helped somewhat, but he'd not had a good drink in awhile. Or any drink for that matter.

The company's welcome too, he thought to himself when Sylvi, the statuesque woman sauntered over to him. He scooted over a bit, giving her some more room after she plopped down beside him. He sipped his drink as she spoke, giving a grin at her comment before speaking. "So you've been here before?" He asked her, eyes glinting with curiosity. "Last time I was here I didn't stay long enough for a drink. Too busy being harassed by navy ships," he explained, setting his mug down and regarding her.

Galen was about to say more, but he saw Fujin walk in and raised his mug at the man. In truth, Galen had seen far worse crews in his life, and he was glad to have some competent people under his watch. He still needed to think on some promotions and titles for various members. Sylvi, he had an idea for.

"Sure could have used a sailor like you back then. You handle the ship well," he said with a wink. Despite his flirtatious air, his words sounded sincere. Galen was, after all, first and foremost a professional quartermaster. He might be easy going, but he knew a good deckhand when he saw one and made sure they knew it. "Tell me, what's a warrior like you doing out here as a sailor? If you don't mind my asking."

Between the hammer and the anvil

The dungeon was unlike any prison he'd spent time in, and he had the misfortune of visiting a few in his travels as a sellsword. Kayden was disheveled and dirty, but he supposed he should just thank the Gods he was alive and merely imprisoned. At least for now, he thought to himself. Fingering the ring on his opposite hand idly, he leaned against the wall and had nearly fallen asleep when he heard the scream echoed across the stone.

He jolted awake, and peered through the bars of his cage as the man was hauled off. The disguised prince almost couldn't believe his eyes when he saw who walked along the cages. He knew of Dulcena, and had heard more than a few unsettling rumors of the admittedly comely woman. He watched with interest as various figures agreed to accompany her on whatever mission she was asking for.

When she approached him, he sighed and stood up, brushing himself off and meeting her gaze. "If it gets me out of here, I'll do whatever you need." He said, fingers intertwined in his lined leather belt. "I accept." His voice was strong, showing his resolve had not been tempered with time in this dark dungeon.

Between the hammer and the anvil

My Character

Character Name: Kayden Aberglen.

Race/Species: Human (Borderlander, from the Kingdom of Eilean)

Gender: M

Age: 24

Career/Class: Mercenary Captain

Weapons:

• Arming sword
• Hunting Bow
• Hunting Spear

Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.): A lean, fit, but refined man with dark hair and eyes, with a navy blue tunic over chainmail (covering leather) and loose fitting dark brown trousers. With the sword strapped to his hip and the bow strung at his back, his forearms wrapped in purple cloth, connecting to golden rings along his middle fingers. On his left hand, his ring finger bears an expensive diamond. He dons a single earring on his left ear. Has black tattoos along his forearms of a coyote and a dragon (covered by the purple cloth), indicating he is an heir of Eilean. Considered quite handsome by many a maiden.

Armor:

• Chainmail hauberk
• Leather armor
• Leather bracers/pauldrons

Equipment/Other

• Sword sharpening/cleaning kit
• 30 arrows
• Water Jug
• Herbal remedy to halt light bleeding
• 3 pounds of beef jerky

Mental Description/Personality: Kayden's charismatic in various perspectives. He knows how to command men in battle, and he knows how to woo women into his bed. It's quite funny, because strong willed women are what he is most attracted to, yet it's what he is most shy with. He has a problem with authority, getting quite agitated if he is being ordered on what to do for more than a small length of time. He's determined, yet frustrated, proud of who he is, yet forsaken his family name. He enjoys leading men into battle, but hates himself for it, for he knows it's nothing more than toying with their lives. If he could escape a position, no matter how highborn, that he did not enjoy, who was he to lead men to their deaths? He has an astute and tactically brilliant mind. He has the intelligence to remain hidden, yet the arrogance to not change his name or remove his jewelry.

He often enjoys drawing, if he can get his hands upon a quill and some parchment. It was a skill that came naturally to him, however he decided to pursue it to clear his mind and show himself he could do more than what his father wanted him to. He's an avid and skilled chess player as well, his strategic mind translating well upon the board. Kayden fears being captured and taken back to his father, but his true fear is the meaning behind it. He fears a life of mediocrity, a life lived un-authentically, and to trade in his freedom of choice for 'security' and 'duty.'

Goals: Kayden's goals are to seek his own fame and fortune, through his own skill and determination. He wants to live as a free man, outside of the pointless bickering of the court.

Mass Effect: The Ephyra Incursion

Ah fruit, stuff came up. Y'all will need to go on without me for now. Might be able to join in the future.

Servants of the Dark Lord

I apologize, but I do not have time for this RP!

Escaping the Blight: A Collaboration of POOHEAD189 & MiddleEarthRoze

Rannon was impressed, to say the least. He knew she was a foreigner, and was bound to have a story about her. But being born outside of any nation was something he'd never even thought of. The pirate aspects about her made sense as well, by the way she moved. He'd only seen the sea once in his life, but he'd met a few sailors before. Those men weren't like her in most ways, but they had a certain walk that suggested they were steady on their feet even in an earthquake.

Still, most pirate stories he'd heard of were less than honorable. He'd even had a few notions in his head on what he'd do if he found a pirate with his weapon. The last thing he expected was teaming up with one, or trusting one for that matter. Not for the first time did Rannon feel like his life was taking a turn for the unexpected. He gazed into his drink, and then lifted up his mug to take a long sip from it.

Setting it down, he had a small smile on his face. The flames of the torches within the tavern caused light to dance along the scar he had on his left cheek. "That's unlike my life by a bit," he said. He shook his head, reminiscing suddenly. "Training, fighting, formations, and orders." He paused for a moment. "You'd think I'd be lost with what to do without all of that. But I still have orders in my own way, I guess. Guess I have the nose of a hound." He must have sounded like he was rambling, he realized. His thought process was on how hounds were single minded and didn't stop until they caught their quarry. He guessed the only reason he wasn't lost now was he still had Loghain to kill.
@MiddleEarthRoze

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

Gonna be postin' in a day or two. Stay tuned!