POOHEAD189

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

This week has been a shitty one, but everyone shall receive a post tomorrow. And while I am not changing the posting schedule, I ask that people post as soon as they feel they can so we can add morty to the game!

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

"Some rest?" Drimbold echoed, and then huffed through his beard. He'd come back over and signed the damned thing, now the manling thought he was at his beck and call. Grimnir damn that, he was going to go back to the drinking table. And so he did, drinking and reveling in stories of old. Even naming the 136 names of Gold he knew in a bawdy song. Thankfully, once he grew tired of manling company, he did decide to get a few hours of sleep.

Most men and Elgi would sleep the night away after such exertion. Drimbold was made of stern stuff however, and he rose just when he needed to. He grabbed another drink for good measure, along with some hearty ham, his pack already strapped to his broad back. His muscles granite and his skin thick as leather, even with only a few hours of sleep, Drimbold would march until the others stopped to rest their legs. That or, until he needed to take a piss or vomit since he had a small drinking binge the other night.

Here's hoping this mercenary expedition would provide enough gold for him to fawn over, and spend more money on beer. And hopefully he could get better beer than the manling piss water!

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

@POOHEAD189 That's what happens when countries have two major parties that sometimes seem to cooperate while competing. Maybe the greens, libertarians, independents, and others should muscle in to resolve this.

@catchamber

You'd have a better chance of the Bull Moose party making a comeback. But yep, a two party system is just inherently biased.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Neil raised an eyebrow at the proclamation, only for his mind to catch up with him. "Oh hell no, not my ship." He declared, and started to run, not even bothering to look back to see if the two women were following him. He turned the corner of the vast palace wing, looking around for any of the telltale signs of the hanger. He remembered what it looked like. But it was probably miles away in the palace.

It was about two miles he had run, many of the palace retainers and councilmen he had passed looking at him in utter bewilderment and incredulity. He deeply hoped none of them had vid-casters on them, and he knew there were probably cameras above him, capturing him vaulting over priceless busts and vases in realtime. However without any real information on why he was doing it, there would only be a small gossip piece on the 'wild man' Neil.

He stopped when he couldn't run anymore, though he was certain he was close. Neil turned on his comm, knowing he needed to slow down whatever was occurring. He knew he couldn't say anything directly to Lonney or it would perhaps be overheard. So he decided to speak 'english english.' "Lonney, Skive it! Cock-up. Throw a spanner in there, arse over tit!" he said, followed by a brief pause over the comm.

"...Know your onions, eh? Not nicked yet. Bob's your uncle!"

"Oh thank god." Neil said, relieved. The pilot placed his a hand on the marble wall and caught his breath. Whatever was happening to Lonney, the systems would lock in an emergency anti-theft bypass. The bypass itself could be bypassed, but it would take time. Time enough for the three companions to make it around the next bend where Neil was certain the hanger bay would be. As the other two women caught up, Sayeeda having only just broken a sweat and Taya nearly dead, he told them the situation was handled for the moment.

Neil then reached under his shirt to where he kept his weapon and cocked his revolver.
@Penny

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

That looks so much like a town I once lived in (water and all).

@Penny

If it was in America, I have a feeling it was in the South.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic watched in rapt fascination as the Chaos wraiths crashed into the pike wall of the Imperial spectars, huge Chosen hacking apart southern armor with weapons he could only guess were enchanted with foul magics from beyond the wastes. The pikemen made a good accounting for themselves, shifting ranks and keeping their distance. Many of the northmen were spitted on the pikes, and the cannon battery silently belched into the air, the greenish smoke wafting from it so very real.

"Cyrdic," Camilla whispered, grabbing his attention with a shake. The Ostlander turned, reluctantly looking away from the battle to see the hill that stood so very close to their rise. The stone column that loomed over the wooden structure... "That has to be it." He whispered. He knew of no barrows within the northern Wastelands.

"Let's get this over with." The Justicar said, pushing past Cyrdic brazenly and stomping down their small rise, the snow crunching beneath his feet audibly. Cyrdic could clearly tell this whole trek unnerved him, and the Ostlander found couldn't blame him. However they needed to be smart about this.

"Hold." Cyrdic ordered, his hand up to halt the Justicar. Thaddeus Von Eikenhouser shot the ex-sergeant a look. "I will not. We're here for your friend. If we can't find him at the entrance to this thrice damned tomb, we're leaving and a warrant will be put out for his execution should he be found again. I made no vow to enter the tomb."

"No one told you to come." Cyrdic growled.

"I was not-!" The Justicar snapped back, or tried to before a low cracking beneath their feet interrupted him. Suddenly, the two men felt weightless, and darkness swallowed them up, followed by a hillside of snow. Camilla would suddenly hear further cracking approaching her position not a pace away, and the ground giving way. It was a short drop, but a hard one. The tilean courtesan landed on something a bit softer than granite. In the moonlight that filtered in, she would see she had landed on Cyrdic's chest.

"Sigmar damn this place!" The Justicar cursed, rising from the snow and beating the wet and the debris off of him. Cyrdic sat up, giving a nod to Camilla. Both of them rose and did likewise, though the Ostlander seemed to stiffen. His sword pulsed with a wild energy. He had not felt it so strongly since Middenheim, when he had been within the vicinity of such a vast amount of warpstone that Camilla had collapsed. The memory and the howling of the sword sobered him from his fall, and he was as keen as a knife's edge once more.

"Does anyone have a torch?" Thaddeus asked.

As Camilla fished in her pack for one, Cyrdic could see the room they were in quite clearly. It was a dark catacomb, with two skeletons having been hung by their necks still swaying upon the eastern edge of the room. Behind the fallen hillside and the companions, stood an elaborate throne upon a curious three sided dias that curled upwards. In fact, the entirety of the architecture felt wrong. The throne was clean but unnatural, the back of it ended at a razor point and its arms were curved in disturbing fashions, the end of each held orbs that glowed a murky purple that burned the retina to gaze upon. The sign of the Crow was at the center of its back, and the bottom was clad with what Cyrdic knew to be mammoth furs.

For once, he agreed with Thaddeus. "Let's get this over with."
@Penny

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

@POOHEAD189 My brain, after watching him try to lie about: the scope of his victory, the crowd size and weather at his inauguration, a terrorist attack in Sweden that didn't happen, why he fired Comey and Tillerson, and being the only person that can fix the USA's problems.

@catchamber

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

Trump's a fucking moron. Can I get fired now please?

@catchamber

Source?

WARHAMMER 40K: THE TARSON INCURSION

whar are da posts!? WOT U LOT DOIN?

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Neil patted Aiden's shoulder. "Them's the brakes." He said, winking at him. The pilot then slipped under the table to sit opposite of them, grabbing one of the drinks on the table. "So, what do you got for us? Might as well get used to this whole retainer thing." Neil then took a hearty sip of the wine Aiden had. Taya did not seem entirely happy, of course. But she felt glad there were things that could distract her while they attempted to fix their luxurious situation.

The handsome prince seemed to consider for a moment, his hand in a closed fist, lightly resting along his mouth as he looked between the crew. "I suppose you have a point." He sighed, and cleared his throat. "Allow me to be clear that I want no harm to my brother, or to anyone you can help."

"I hear you." Neil said, raising his glass. Aiden nodded. "Alexander's suite is on the northern side of the Palace, to the east of my parent's section. If you could find out if he has any suspicious workings or dealings with insurgents, please report it to me. If you could, finding out what he is planning in general would be immensely helpful. This isn't just about my position, but I want to halt any complications. Terrorism and civil wars...If there is a better king than I then so be it. But Alexander..."

"We getcha, don't worry." Neil said. To further emphasize the point, Sayeeda was already reloading her submachine gun, drawing their gazes once more with an audible 'clack' of the clip being inserted. Aiden shook his head, but he smiled. As the doors began to open to reveal Ranald and the other council members, Aiden leaned over to Junebug. "I'd like to speak to you privately tonight, if you would." He said.

As he leaned in to whisper to her, Taya had on a grin while Neil was a bit busy making sure the approaching figures weren't Alexander goons coming back before he realized who they were.

"Thank you very much for seeing me." Aiden told the crew, a clear indication they needed to depart for now.
@Penny