POOHEAD189

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic woke up late in the morning, the sun almost at its zenith in the sky. He felt Camilla's arms around his chest, her legs intertwined in his. The sellsword smiled to himself, and rubbed her thick head of black hair a bit with his hand. His mother's necklace hung loosely off her chest, pressed to his side. He hated to wake her, and honestly last night felt far too good, he almost didn't want to get out of bed or it would seem like it was over. He remembered her speaking her native Tilean, and the warmth they gave off still lingered.

But he still had his soldiering traditions, and old habits died hard. Most of the time he would be the one to get up before anyone else and kick new recruits into gear, yanking them out of bed if they dared grumble at him. He would have scolded himself not months ago. He chuckled at the thought, and slipped out of bed as best he could, putting on his trousers and tying them onto his waist. Once she awoke, she'd find he had breakfast out for her, and some water as well.

A knock reverberated off their door, and Cyrdic was admittedly a bit paranoid. The last two times they'd shared a room together after getting close, a Middenland man punched him in the face, and they were summoned to fight for their lives for a crime they never committed. Now that they were together and had shared a bed, he suspected to open the door to a rifleman squad. The Ostlander slipped his shirt on, and opened the door only slightly to keep Camilla well covered in the bed as she ate.

"Yes?" Cyrdic asked. The man before him was one of the servants.

"Yes, my Lord. Someone is here to see you. Indeed they've been waiting all morning, but I was told by the Duke not to disturb you until midday."

"My Lord? You must-..." He began, and then spaced out. He was a lord now, wasn't he? Technically. "Go on, man. Fetch him."

"As you wish, Marquess."

He closed the door, grunting. "I'll need to get used to that, I guess..."
@Penny

Between the hammer and the anvil

@Kelewen I think that's a very good idea, tbh.

What Are You Listening To?

Current Mood in One Gif

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

Okie dokie peeps. Make a small post for before the cavern entrance, and then transition to a preferably bigger post once you head in.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

Beren chewed his jerky without hurry, seemingly withdrawing into himself as if he was performing a standing meditation. Indeed he had his eyes closed, standing tall but with his arms crossed, and chewing softly. To contrast, Argon's slobbering gnawing and crunching was loud and obnoxious. He seemed to have found a dead possum through one of the alleyways, devouring great chunks of flesh, and oddly enough, gnawing sweetly along the stripped possum's limbs.

Meanwhile, Geradin was inspecting the cavern entrance with a professional air. He entered into the cavern a bit, though still close enough to be within the sunlight. The Dwarf ran his hands over the rock, sometimes knocking against the stone with his knuckles once or twice and placing his ear to the rock. He grabbed one of the smaller stones and crushed it slightly, before checking the chips of rock it had shed. Smelling, touching, even tasting a bit of the rock, he then waddled out of the cavern and nodded. "This cavern'll go a few miles at least or I'm a bearded Gnome. It either stops after a few miles, or it enters something much wider. I reckon the latter, but I'm only tellin' ya what to look out fer."

Calanon strung his bow, still moving tirelessly without pause, and he climbed the nearest building between their group and the Rogs. Brogach pawed the building with his hoofs, before braying lightly and clopping over to the cavern entrance then. Calanon called down less than a minute later, saying the fog was dissipating slightly. They all took as a cue to move, and Geradin roared he should be up front. Of course, Beren and most people with longer legs started moving, inevitably passing him after 30 feet into the cavern. Indeed, the troop had little choice but to go Into the Dark.

---

2 hours later.

The cavern was stuffy and at some points cramped, but survivable so far. The group had taken little time to rest after their very short break up on the surface. Torches had not been used, for fear of pursuit from the Rogs. Instead, Beren had put on the silver pendant Vanya had provided for him and the others. It was not as good as a torch, but it helped his eyes better see in the dark. It was as Vanya described it, traveling upon a field under a full moon with naught a cloud in the sky. Calanon could see far better than he, but still wore the pendant just in case.

Geradin moved as if he was walking on the surface world, and Argon seemed to get around well enough, though even if he couldn't see very far, he wasn't one to complain regardless. Sett would need a torch or his pendant, as would Alice, and Ursaren in his bear form had a good enough sense of hearing and smell to not be totally lost. An-Hasst could see less well without sun than with, and indeed he would need his pendant to see if there was no light. But he still had better vision in the darkness than a human would, say.

Winding and twisting, sometimes left and right and other-times in a sharp decline and a slow incline, the cavern stretched. That is, until they made it to the very end, which as Geradin predicted, wasn't an end, but an entrance to a far larger cavern that stretched too far for the eye to see. In fact, they found themselves upon an underground cliff, with paths going left, and some going right, hugging the cavern walls. Indeed a perilous road moved forward above a sheer drop. All around them was an dark chasm that fell into darkness.

@Banana@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen@BCTheEntity

The Lord of the Rings: The Age of Men

I'll edit, my friend^^

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic laughed at the joke, and couldn't help but laugh more as she threw her arms around. He wrapped his muscled arms around her, grinning back as she pressed to him. It hurt a bit, but he truly didn't care at this moment. "No, it's not," he said, his grin positively wolfish. But then it faded, and there was something in his eyes that grew warmer and softer. "It's the easiest thing in the world." He whispered to her.

Cyrdic pulled her onto his lap, holding her gently as she got comfortable. He was glad the chair he sat on was comfortable. His hips still hurt a bit, but he wasn't about to complain. They had all day tomorrow, and indeed the rest of their lives to hack apart Beastmen and save the Empire. For now he felt just nice holding her here, in the warmth and peace, and quiet.

He pressed his forehead to hers, nuzzling a bit, and then he kissed her longingly. He held her a bit tighter as he did so, drawing her closer and breathing through his nose. They sat there for many seconds, before he leaned his head back a tad and reached over to the table, grabbing a piece of the meal. It was a pomegranate. "I saw you eyeing these," he said playfully, giving it to her.

The sudden shift in their weight caused him to grunt in pain, and he had to quickly explain it was his fault, not hers. "Hey you think um, I can sleep in the bed tonight? For once, the ground does not agree with me." He almost looked embarrassed.
@Penny

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

Yay TFF!
I am free this thursday, I.E. this day, so after a sleep and some work, you're getting a post.

The Sunday Group

Manny opened his eyes slightly, gazing around his cramped apartment without moving a muscle. Years spent hunting things most people didn't believe in gave one a healthy paranoia. He learned never to groan or even breathe differently once he awoke. It freaked out more than one woman, he recalled with a snort of amusement.

As soon as he had moved here, he knew it would be a bit less roomy than his last place. Apartment sizes were often larger with numbers, and they got progressively smaller the more reliant on letters they were. Apartment A's were usually shitty basement apartments, private restroom optional. When he was sure that no one was in here with him, he leaped out of the bed.

He scratched his unkempt hair and groaned, using his free hand to turn the TV on. His big toe touched the power button to his 360, and suddenly it zoomed onto the screen. He clicked 3 buttons, and his playlist came on. Breach Birth suddenly popped up, and he headed towards the bathroom, passing by one of his posters. His shower was quick, and luckily it didn't seem to be full of iron tasting water this time. Must be his birthday.

He put on his pants, and buttoned up his shirt before he took a look outside. Two white males working. He recognized them from his daily scope outs. Not hard to figure out. One seemed to have a significant other, the lankier one. He had the distinct feeling the lankier one was a cultist of some sort. The sulphur in the dumpster he frequented was a fair clue, as was the 'new age' books of wiccan spells he'd seen through the window. Nothing he couldn't handle. He'd check later, but for now, business called.

He put his effects in his pockets. He checked to see his pistol was full, and placed it into easy reach on his person, grip poking into the small of his back from within his shirt. His switch blade was in his sock. "Time to start trouble." he said to himself, opening the door and sliding out. He needed food, and decided he'd go out and get some early breakfast before heading to the meeting that was sure to be a good lead. Even in text, he could tell Ellie had something real for them.

He walked into the office with an egg and cheese bagel, and some orange juice in a cup. Paid to be healthy, he told himself. "Pays to be nitpicky too," he whispered when he saw Kennedy.