POOHEAD189

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

In 24 hours, post fall like...like...LIKE MELONS.

Warhammer Fantasy: The Guild of Esteemed Sellswords - An adventure in the Warhammer Fantasy world!

Tromm

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

I'm fairly lucky I am white enough too to most peeps, thanks to mom's side. My brother is so pale no one ever questions it lol.

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

<Snipped quote by POOHEAD189>

I'm wondering if you can bring up your native heritage to argue that your ancestry has been here longer than his has, so you have a greater claim to any 'original demographic ethnostate' but I have a strong feeling he wont see that as valid for some reason.

@Dynamo Frokane

I believe the white man has claimed America through 'Right by Smallpox'
-Andreyich probably.

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

By God, what road shall he choose!?

Hider

Legitimately, I am wondering if you literally meant racial demography @ReonenMiruel Not that I think you meant anything else but still wanna make sure.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

@The Fated Fallen Awwww. Ok you get another day

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

Mdk doesn't want to make some people uncomfortable? What is he, some sort of arrogant asshole!?

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

"Lucky my gun's old fashioned then." Neil said in regard's to Junebug's malfunctioning submachine gun. He'd used plenty of state of the art weaponry before, most recently when he had the flamer during the Xenonid attack. But his old mech fighter had a revolving cylinder cannon for its main armament, so he had taken up a .44 magnum in homage to it. There was no strain on the chambers with the bullets, thankfully. It might not have as rapid of a rate of fire as many guns, but it was reliable and it had stopping power.

His hair and body were soaked, though the sudden warmth of the dying day changed that. He could already feel a mellow heat washing over him. He enjoyed heat more than most, but it had been very harsh here. It was more than welcome at the moment, however. He still did undo his revolver, taking it apart and making sure to dry the bullets. It might be reliable but you never know when water was involved. Even laser rifles had trouble with water.

"Quetzalli" the woman said, somewhat enchanted and elated that she had not only had escaped with her life, but she had helped the Starmen in doing so. Her previous gazes at Neil also showed a bit of what she was planning, but at the moment she was just happy to be free from Wetumpkah and being around such strange and wondrous people.

If Neil was reading her mind, he'd be grinning at how she'd feel about a full set of clothes and maybe some well cooked meals. Or a soft bed for that matter. But at the moment he was just putting the bullets back in his gun and strode over to the woman and Junebug. Neil's brows were raised as the woman looked to him and pointed to herself. "Quetzalli."

"Is that her name?" Neil asked, and Junebug gave a nod and a grin.

"Fuckin' sweet. I'm Neil." He said, then realized he spoke far too many words. "I mean uh..." He pointed to himself. "Neeeeeiiiil" he said slowly. She reached over to grab his hands, enfolding them in her own as she batted her eyes at him, her voice a sultry whisper. "Neil"

"Oooooh kay." He chuckled, trying to keep her focused on them surviving still. Honestly he felt like she was a cool woman, because she seemed about as crazy and exciting as him. But he'd just gotten out of a melee and he was still woozy from the bonk to the head. Might want to make it back to the Highlander before they picked out drapes. "Let's see if we can find some place to lie low." The pilot said, and though the woman was somewhat unfamiliar with this part of the jungle, it was not too hard going as they made it a few miles deeper into the woods.

"Taya" the younger woman said, giving a wave to Quetzalli, and the other nodded in turn.

Once the sun was fully down, two moons appeared above them. They had found a small glade to rest for awhile. Neil volunteered to climb a tree and see if there was any fruit up there, as Junebug had deciphered from who Neil called 'Zalli' that a pear shaped, pink fruit was good to eat. He'd just found a couple in the dark when they heard a roar that reverberated off the trees, sending a cold chill up each of their spines.
@Penny

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Just thought I add, I’m open to collabs with Brynja, so lemme know if you’d like to do one!

@MacabreFox

The Sorceress and the Slave

"I cannot fight them all and live." He stated, more out of giving advice than any sort of fear. Yes, he knew of slave revolts and had dreamed of it for years, as he had not been born a slave. This life of servitude had been thrust upon him, just as the chains on his wrists. However, there was a sense of destiny surrounding this woman, and he had seen her perform miracles. He was not to abandon her, even in such a state as this.

And as much as it grated him, he had also gotten used to having a master. One day, hopefully he would change that.

The Great Serpents lazily coiled and slithered across the illuminated cavern beneath them. One of them gazed up at the Sorceress and the slave, a tongue the size of Rhaak's arm flickering out as it tasted the air. Its iris was the size of his Scimitar, an endless blade of darkness. Rhaak had never before felt as close to a meal as he did as when the serpent looked at him. Though it did not approach, and he wondered why that was.

The stairway seemed large enough-
Rhaak's eyes caught the statues that framed the archway, and he decided to try something. With a look to Amira, he stepped forward cautiously, his every muscle tensed as he did so, before his foot passed the statues and stepped down upon the first step. The serpents that were not gazing his way were coiling and hissing, but the one that had watched them curiously suddenly drew itself up, and approached with sinuous grace.

Rhaak stepped back immediately and held his Scimitar defensively, and the Serpent halted its advance as soon as he re-entered the archway, seemingly uninterested. Rhaak looked to the statues, and wondered what to do.

"They are the pagan Gods Muhamara and Bresia," Amira declared, though her sharp, enchanting eyes showed a hint of curiosity at the strange behavior of the serpents as well. "We shall use them."

Luckily, the statues were not large. Merely a tad bigger than the busts that Praelians were so fond of, and Rhaak, at Amira's behest, ripped them out of the stone and held them under each of his arms. He then knelt down for Amira to ride upon his back, so both of them would be between the statue's warding powers.
@Penny