POOHEAD189

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic was glad Camilla had found a place for him to hide. His first instinct was to hide behind the door and then bash the back of their heads in with his sword hilt, and then tie them up. He supposed this was easier. He briefly thought Ricardo was going to get caught, but like a rodent he slid into some corner, and the two that entered conversed without pause or complaint. Cyrdic held himself completely still, one arm around Camilla.

Once the two were out, he stayed by the door to make sure he heard no more footsteps. Little did he know that his eyes needed to be elsewhere...

He whirled, sword leading when he heard the unfamiliar voice. When he saw who had been clapping, his breath caught. The voluptuous and enchanting woman lounged on the back chair, watching them. Even pushing herself up stirred something within Cyrdic, and he wondered how a person could be this beglamouring. He shook his head, trying to undo whatever effect was on him. Was it even an effect? He was a man but he wasn't usually this overcome with lust and admiration.

The woman's mocking laughter was haunting, her dress glimmering in the faint light of the room. She placed one pointer finger on the other, beginning to count down as she spoke.

"You remained unseen, you rappled across the rooftops. You moved gracefully and with an air of nobility I daresay." She said, her eyes falling on Camilla. "Very impressive. As are your companions. This one moves almost as well as you," she said, gesturing to Ricardo. The Tilean followed her hand as if it was a piece of meat to a starving man. She seemed bemused at his hungry gaze. "Though he's not quite the 'specimen' as the one in the back."

Her eyes bored into Cyrdic, and the Ostlander felt a hammerblow to his psyche as he tried to look away. But every sense in his body begged him to give into this one's will.

"What do you want?" Cyrdic asked, shaken.
@Penny

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

Well we've got one post!

Current Mood in One Gif

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic did just that, easily holding her weight and gently lowering her down until she was close enough to do what she did best. Once that was concluded, she called to him to let her go. Just as he was about to do that, Ricardo whispered to him. "Let her go, Imperial." Cyrdic snapped his gaze at Ricardo as he let Camilla drop, about to comment the man didn't give him time to even respond to her. But he decided against it.

Once the three were in the office, Cyrdic knocked some dust off of himself. He didn't share their smile, instead his head up and alert like a wolf's. He did have a gleam in his eyes though. He always felt home in danger, despite this being a different kind than he was used to. He saw Camilla's happy visage, and he had to remind himself she was with him by choice, even if a voice in the back of his head whispered she'd be happier here.

Shut up.

"Got it," he whispered softly to Camilla after she had opened the door. He had slunk behind the courtesan sellsword, and decided to take point as he often did when they were entering somewhere dangerous. He didn't unfasten his shield, but his sword was out as he stepped lightly into the hallway. The lack of light wasn't too stifling, and in fact he must have gotten used to the dark across the rooftops. He could see the shape of the hallway and the figures of busts and paintings along the sides.

He felt the others behind him, and even a small grumble from Ricardo. Something in Tilean that seemed disapproving of what was going on, though Cyrdic didn't catch it. He waded over to a very ornate looking door. Or he believed that was how it looked, from the robust framework.

He tried to open the door knob, but it was locked. Cyrdic grimaced, and motioned for Camilla or Ricardo to come over the check the lock. As Camilla did so, Cyrdic heard the tiniest clinking as she worked. After a few moments, the sound was drowned out by footsteps coming from the eastern part of the hallway, and the dim glow of a distant torch that had not yet turned the stone hallway yet.

"Hurry," Cyrdic breathed, his entire body tensed.
@Penny

Underrated and Overrated Video Games

Anyone ever played this gem?


I still own the guidebook to this day, though it's ratty as hell. Ogre Battle 64 had you taming beasts and recruiting troops to fight an insurrection against crown, as well as more nefarious foes later on...

Such a good tactics/strategy game!

In Defense Of The Genre [Part II]

@POOHEAD189 For the complaints that you claim to have gotten about me, nothing was ever done. Nothing was ever brought to my attention. That's because there was never any substance to them. You don't have to like me yourself but surely you understood that the complaints you're referring to are meaningless so there was no point to bringing them up as a general if you weren't gonna have specifics. It's comments like that which perpetuated a myth of "j8cob is toxic" without any proof, something I normally wouldn't mind but since it ended up helping Mahz rationalize his own actions it clearly became a problem.

@j8cob appeal 2

I like you, and I have nothing against you. I am sorry things seemed to look as if I was pointing a finger at you, but I was simply saying why I thought that there was a chance you might have been banned because of what I had seen. That did not hold any sway to how you were actually banned, or what I think of you as a person. Like I said, I did not know the reason you were banned at the time, if there ever was one.

I love messing with you and I enjoy your humor. I can see how you'd see it as me trying to condemn you, but in all honesty I was replying to what Odin said. The fact he didn't understand what I was saying, was why I repeated it, not because I had any goal in seeing you banned, or even to hurt your name. I honestly hope you get un-banned, dude. Like I said, I like you.

In Defense Of The Genre [Part II]

I think it would kind of feel hard to not feel attacked a bit. Not from you though @Cyndyr. You've been understanding and calm.

If we want to get things done, the best thing to do is leave egos at the door. That includes myself. I tried not to be, but I was a tad passive aggressive as well, or I appeared that way (I was with Pugbutter though).

Now, if Mods can admit they make mistakes, the first order of business is to forgive if they profess it, and to help them move forward from there and work with them.

If users have made mistakes and admit it, same thing.

At the end of the day, we're all here to have fun in roleplays and hang with friends. Working together is the best thing we can do. We just need to admit there is some cognitive dissonance and lack of understanding between each side here.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic tied the rope to his waist for extra security, scolding himself for letting his emotions get the better of him as Ricardo and Camilla's silhouettes stood together across the expanse. With a slight leap, he sailed forward. The feeling of his weight at the end of the rope on his waist and his arm wasn't a comfortable feeling. He wasn't a lumbering giant, but he was powerfully framed and larger than the Tileans. He let out an audible sigh as he landed next to them, unfastening the rope.

As they gazed down at the complex, Cyrdic snorted at the gaudy men walking around. Sigmar knew he didn't understand fashion, but even to him that was just an odd sight. The defenses looked well formed, however.

Once a plan was figured out, Cyrdic warmed at the squeeze from Camilla. "You got this," he said with a smile, and watched her shimmy over expertly. This time, he didn't comment when Ricardo marveled at her. He decided that was best, particularly during such a dangerous mission.

"I can manage," Cyrdic said bluntly. He might not be as nimble as them, nor as light. But he wasn't hefty either, his waist leaner than his chest. He could lift his body weight quite easily, and as long as he favored his less injured shoulder, he felt confident of it. "I'll go next." He said, making sure all of his weapons and gear were fastened tightly, before making his way onto the rope. Ignoring the sense of weight, and not looking down, Cyrdic was slow going.

But he was steady, and managed to crawl across the large expanse with ne'er a complaint, though the shifting of the rope in the wind was testing his reserve.
@Penny

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

Sean Spicer will get lobotomized, because Scaramoucci stabs you where you least expect it. Most stab in the back, he gives the patented front stab!

Between the hammer and the anvil

Kayden listened intently to the instructions, keeping tabs not only on their objectives, but the mannerisms of his team. One curled finger at his lips, and his other hand idly toying with the fork he'd been given once he had finished. It paid to know who you were dealing with, and who was dealing with you.

He found his room accommodating, the prince tired enough not to care overly much the conditions of his bed. It was far better than the dungeon, and after a bath and good food, he found the bed heavenly. He could have used a woman though, but then again he couldn't exactly have everything.

When he awoke, he found a bucket of water and washed his hair, loosening the small string that tied up his shoulder length hair as he did so. His dark hair was thick and unruly, and he fixed it up again once it was dried. Some might say it was mere vanity, but longer hair did not help out in a fight if it got in the way. Now why he didn't cut it? That was vanity. Stripped to the waist, he was fit and trim, albeit with a few scars from years of fighting. He donned his chainmail and leather trappings, before heading out to the stables.

He'd asked Oldrik for some small provisions, as well as a shortbow and about twenty arrows. He was no incredible archer, but he knew a thing or two. "Morning," he said lightly to Wren, reigning in his horse as she walked up.