POOHEAD189

Between the hammer and the anvil

Kayden had commanded fighting men before not months ago. As the woman opened his cage, he inspected his allies and drew up a few conclusions of his own. Mostly that it was a far more unique bunch than he was used to, which was saying something. He often allowed anyone into his free company, no matter their nationality. As long as they were loyal and did the work.

Then Dulcena held out her hands to unshackle him, and he held out his wrists in turn for her to do so. The look she gave him was something he hadn't expected, but there was a glint in his eyes as his gaze met hers. It wasn't an unwelcome prospect, and his days spent in the dungeon had been incredibly dry. Apart of him counseled against it, mostly because of the rumors surrounding her. But he often ignored such things. What was wrong with a bit of danger?

Rubbing his wrists, he gave Dulcena a wink and a bow, before catching up with the rest of the group. "I think it matters to the man," Kayden pipped in casually as he fell in beside the others. He shrugged. "But I suppose all we can do is care about our own fortunes, eh?"

Kayden hopped into one of the carriages, almost perturbed to sit inside a small enclosed space again. But if it led to food and a good rest, along with perhaps a bath...

The Sunday Group

Meanwhile, Miss Lawyer is just like "What am I doing here? Why did I come here?"

@FantasyChic

I'm sure our characters will help cause problems for one another.^^

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

The journey was slow going, and the aqueduct was much further than either would have thought. In fact the two slept twice during their foray into the darkness. It reminded Cyrdic far too much of the Middle Mountains, and oftentimes he had trouble sleeping because he suspected Ratmen or Goblins to charge from some unknown corridor in the darkness. But speaking to one another and joking, eating the provisions they brought, and helping one another walk, they made it to the edge of the cavern. A makeshift door was at the top, and with both of them pushing, the door burst open and they fell into soft earth.

Once they collected themselves, they saw the two of them were overlooking a sizeable town below the sloping hill they stood on, and a massive river in the distance. Past that, huge walls and looming spires covered what Cyrdic knew must be Altdorf, if his guess was correct. Which meant this town below them must be Carroburg.

He didn't care if it was Praag in the middle of a Chaos incursion. He just needed a bed, and some food, and the wind on his face was far more pleasant than he had ever remembered it being. He also needed a bath, he decided.

6 hours later...

Carroburg was a veritable maze of twisting streets and stairs. Since water and waste travel downhill, the more well-off the residents of a neighbourhood are, the higher up the hill they would be Cyrdic learned. The bottom tier of the city practically felt the lapping of the river Reik flowing across their boots. He could have done without the stairs, truth be told. He had healed much quicker than he had anticipated, but he still felt far too stiff for his liking.

Once they had reached a tavern, they had set about contacting the Carroburg authorities so they could send word to Altdorf about their package. Unbeknownst to them, the cousin of Boris Todbringer, Leopold von Bildhofen, Duke of Carroburg (and rumored relative of Magnus the Pious), heard of their arrival. In true blunt Middenland fashion, he immediately invited them to his house as guests. If Cyrdic had doubts of this being Carroburg at first, passing the famed Greatswords of Carroburg that stood on guard at his estate was an eye opener.

Leopold von Bildhofen had them regale their tale to him, guffawing with horror and barking with laughter at every turn of the story. He claimed he wouldn't have believed it if it were not the fabled heroes of Middenhiem. Once he was satisfied, he offered them a place to stay in his cousin's estate, next door. Boris never truly visited, but as the Count of Middenland, he had a vast palace to live in this important trade city.

It was an ancient mansion, tall with narrow windows and no entrances to the residence on the ground floor, oddly enough. Cyrdic heard rumor it was so that the mansion would be harder to storm from rioting peasants. He didn't want to think about a wrathful and powerful man like Boris Todbringer fighting peasants who dared insult him.

Baths and food had been provided for them. Cyrdic had gotten out of his bath first, and had made it to their room to check and clean his equipment. He still found it funny they couldn't use the Graf's room. Not that he felt he deserved it, but if they were here and he wouldn't be for months, he did not see the problem. He guessed he was used to sharing room with soldiers.

His feet killed him and his legs were sore, but he didn't relent wiping his sword, shield, and treasures of grime and wet until they were clean. The food that had been provided for them was set on the table next to the huge bed. Cyrdic wore new, loose fitting trousers that were quite comfortable to wear, and a soft linen shirt lay across his shoulder, not yet on his body. Once Camilla walked in, she'd see his scarred back to her as he finished wiping his Norscan shield. The food smelled extravagant. It must have taken some will for Cyrdic not to dig in before her.
@Penny

The Sunday Group

@ihinka Or doggies riding around too.

Most badass mother fucking thing

The Sunday Group

@Poohead189 - One of the best books about Chicago that I've read is Devil in the White City, by Erik Larson. It chronicles the 1893 World's Columbian Exhibition, an event that still informs quite a lot about Chicago to this day, and the monstrous man who made the World's Fair his hunting ground as America's first widely-known serial killer. While the story concerns itself with things that happened over a century ago, you still get an amazing view of how Chicago operates that is directly applicable to today.

I should point out that Devil in the White City is pure nonfiction; everything in there actually happened and the book is a chronicle of real events and real people. That the story rather reads like urban supernatural horror is part of what makes it so terrifying.

@Naril

Interesting...I've not read much nonfiction lately, other than Under The Black Flag which is merely just research for a pirate story I'm writing up. That's really intriguing honestly, that Chicago is still relatively the same to this day. I'll see if my library has it, thank you!

@jasonwolf Always pays to be informed. But yeah, I'm certain we'll be more concerned with the ghosts and vampires and not the geography in our posts.

The Sunday Group

I feel like I'm going to need to read up on Chicago to catch up with you peeps, haha.

The Sunday Group

I want a chopper, so Malone's gonna have a chopper

@ihinka

Same...

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

He gave her a grin that he would often give to new recruits. It was the kind of smile that said 'nothing we can't handle.' "I'll be fine. Ulric knows I need some bed rest, but..." With a supreme force of will, he placed one hand on his knee, and then got to his feet, ignoring the cuts, scrapes, and broken rib. They still had work to do. "We need to get out of here first."

He placed his hands on his hips, and looked around the dimly lit room. The lantern fire danced off his cheeks' scar, and gave his iron eyes the look of gold or bronze flecked within them. He gripped his sword hilt, and seemed to almost draw strength from it, as if the weapon itself helped him stand a tad easier than he normally would. Maybe he wasn't healing unnaturally, but he certainly seemed to have a fair bit of energy for someone who had been fighting all day.

"Come on," he told her, giving her a hand to help her up, despite his hip still very much hurt. He only winced at the movement. "Once we find a way out, I'm getting us a huge dinner and a comfortable room," he said. He gazed at some of the connecting rooms as he spoke. "We still have some treasures left.. Time we fucking used some." Cyrdic turned to her. "You think so?"

They searched the other cellars that were connected to this one. The first room had nothing but cheese and brandy. The next room looked to be a place to clean and maintain weapons. That would have come in handy if the battle above had turned out differently, Cyrdic thought cynically.

The last room was a dead end as well, it seemed like. There were apples and fruit lining all of the walls except the back one. Upon bringing their lantern further, Cyrdic could see a crack in the very fragile looking masonry...
@Penny

The Sunday Group

I've always wanted to play, but I never got the chance.

The Sunday Group

Y'all know my votes. Detroit or Chicago.
San Fran sounds neat, though I've never been there.