POOHEAD189

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

I think what Dynamo is inferring is, don't put all left wing stereotypes on people whom you see as leftists. If you're talking to Dynamo, then speak to Dynamo and only hold him to account of things he has said, not an entire ideal/party that he/she might not be apart of. Then again, I think Harbinger is guilty of this a lot more than anyone. But then again, if he didn't go off topic and make assumptions on people based on a Trump news site, he wouldn't write 9 paragraphs each post.

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

@mdk No that's disingenuous, I'm not near any slippery slope of intellectual inconsistency or rabbit holes of left wing nonsense. Put your strawman voodoo doll away. What I said was 100% correct, that some White nationalist racists use harmless things such as milk and frogs as meme symbols, I made no other claims. Anything else you are inferring about the way I think is fantasy I'm afraid.

You're sounding paranoid, you hear something anywhere close to something some left wing idiot has said and you start tarring with brushes. I've seen you do it before, you've mistaken people in this thread criticizing trump as somehow being sympathetic to Hilary, you've mistaken people in this thread attacking the alt right as some how being supportive of Antifa, you deal in black and white extremes and I want no part of it, attack MY ideas not some imaginary buzzfeed strawman.

@Dynamo Frokane

Silver Marches: Forgotten Realms

Rhaak handed her the knife he had found, giving it to her as a sign of trust. Of course, he'd still watch her very carefully. But it would help neither of them if they both distrusted one another. He wanted out of this dungeon, one way or another. Besides, he also didn't need the blade to be effective if they ran into anything dangerous. As he handed her the knife, he took the cup from her and sipped it greedily, the water quenching his parched, muscled form.

He let out a gasp of satisfaction, and wiped his forearm across his lips. "No, but we'll need to look." He told her, placing the other items in his pockets. He'd give her any of the coins if she asked for them, and then he nodded for her to follow him.

They walked for merely a minute, through the initial archway and down the corridor. The walls were lined with stout stonework and chains hanging limply. Rhaak walked in front of his new Elven companion, as he had the torch, though he glanced back at her often. Even if he believed she was there to get out like he was, someone he had just met and just armed was something to watch. That, and it was also to make sure she was not harmed from some unknown trap.

Soon the corridor turned to the left, and they found themselves looking at a (somewhat) larger room, with six Goblins hauling stones onto a small cart that was then pushed onto a railing, fleeing sight. They then began to fill another cart with building stones as well, working with grumbling reluctance. A large Bugbear stood watch over them, a whip in his clawed hand. The cavernous room looked to be carved out of natural stone, with various entrances out of it across the expanse of the room from where Rhaak and Morwen peeked in. Rhaak pulled the Elf back, whispering so as they couldn't be heard.

"What do you think?" He asked her, his breath hot on her ear from the cramped hallway.
@FreeElk

WARHAMMER 40K: THE TARSON INCURSION

The Arbites, Herold Ortega, was torn during the argument. On the one hand, he was merely a tool of the Emperor's will, which meant he would follow the Imperial superiors who led him to the letter. However, the Deathwatch Astartes, while speaking of out turn, had a point and voiced what everyone must have been thinking about the Psyker. He was glad the Celestian knew not to condemn the Astartes on the spot, but merely lecture him. They would need the armored super human very soon.

The group ran toward the armored bunker, the Arbites just beside them. Rain spattered off his carapace armor and dribbled down his half-face helm. He licked his lips, glad that this world didn't have poisonous rain in the atmosphere. His thundering boots thudded into the already ankle-deep puddles as he hustled into cover. Before he arrived in the dryness of the bunker, he had his combat shotgun primed and ready.

Just as soon as he vaulted over the first window-sill, bullets from shootas ricocheted around him. He grunted and planted himself below the cover, his companion began readying themselves to fire back. Herold checked to make sure he still had his grenades, before he grimly lifted himself off of the ground to face the lumbering and howling Xenos that even now bore down on their position. He lifted his shotgun, aiming the powerful weapon like most guardsmen would aim a rifle.

Herold was no Space Marine, but he was still imposing for a human, and the kickback from his combat shotgun was minimal in his grip. He fired off a slug, accurately taking an Ork in the collarbone. His next slug punched into the Ork's throat, causing the bestial Xenos to tumble and gasp, clawing at the wet ground in his death throes. Herold pumped the shotgun, and took out the Ork behind that one was well, ripping off apart of its huge head.

His next few shots were more general in direction, meaning to provide cover fire for the others more than anything. Missiles streaked past his shoulder, courtesy of the Krieger troop and the Astartes. Herold saw this spurred other Xenos to an even greater frenzy, even as their comrades died and their armor was blasted to bit. Herold began to fire more accurately once more, putting slugs into every Ork that made it closer than 30 yards, reloading with a swift, practiced ease when needed.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Neil scratched his chin, at a loss on if they had the cash to find a transport. Then again, he supposed they didn't need to buy one of their own. Maybe rent, or pay someone to use theirs to drive them into the jungle. Then again the latter version probably wouldn't want to go balls-deep into monster territory for some punk kid he had likely never met, or for Sayeeda and Neil for that matter. They could potentially ask a favor of Val-kan Hatcher, but Neil had a sinking suspicion that Sayeeda would hate that kind of plan.

Neil spun in his chair, placing an elbow down on the counter and asking the bartender a question. "Can I get your name?" He asked her. She raised an eyebrow, clearly unused or unamused at people trying to get to know her. "Why would you want that?"

"To be...po...lite?" He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She blew a few strands of her hair out of her eyes, and replied with 'Braenala.' Neil enjoyed the way she rolled her 'r's.

He blinked, and then looked at Sayeeda as he spoke. "That is beautiful." He took a sip of his drink, and cleared his throat. "Braenala, I have a proposition for you." Neil said, meeting her eyes. He seemed to catch them in his own, brown orbs. "If you let us know where we can get a cheap, or better yet free transport for a few days, not only will we do our best to get your land-drifter back, but I hear there's salvage out there. We will..." He reached up to her, and the monstrosity at her side lurched forward, until Neil's hand flourished beside her ear to produce a coin. A small sleight of hand gesture, but it seemed to impress the backwater woman. "-give you 25% of whatever we manage to haul back here. Not only that, but we'll boast about you to our esteemed employer, who just happens to be the father of Ferenhall."

Braenala blinked, and looked between Sayeeda and Neil, gauging their face as she thought of that. She was clearly on the brink of a decision, as Neil piped in. "You might have enough to take a day or two off..."

Within three hours, Neil and Sayeeda had purchased a dirt cheap land-drifter from a junker named Roklemore.
@Penny

Between the hammer and the anvil

<Snipped quote by POOHEAD189>
When did Miri fall down? O.o

@Pumpkinbot

I thought she was the one that was grabbed by the Goblins in Kelewen's last post. If that's not the case, I can edit.

Dragon Age: Oathbreaker

Oathbreakers. Word.

Between the hammer and the anvil

Kayden sped his horse forward, seeing the distant tumble Wren took through the foliage of the trees. He grit his teeth, spurring his steed to greater speed as he rode it with practiced skill. Only, he didn't count for the Goblins in the way, nor did he expect them to have another of their group. He cursed, and saw the Goblin leveling an arrow in his general direction. Kayden decided to turn his horse directly at the Goblin, and suddenly the little creature found 1500 pounds of horseflesh bearing down on him. Jek panicked, and shot wildly, missing his target before he was trampled by Kayden's horse. The Prince's sword sang out, cutting the ear off the other Goblin, causing it to run about in confusion. Miri seemed to have a chance at escape, but Kayden didn't have time to help her up. The next minute, he found Wren in the dirt, scrapes abound on her. "So, will you take my offer for a ride now?" He jested, though it was in good humor. He dismounted and helped her to her feet, brushing the mud off of her face. "You're ok." he confirmed for her, easing her mental state.

Elsewhere, the Goblins seemed to have started to lose their spirit, as this prey proved far tougher than they had anticipated, and half their numbers were either dead or dismembered. @Kelewen

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

Everyone know milk is the true symbol of white supremacy

@Andreyich

Here is the primary source:

Between the hammer and the anvil

Be posting tonight!