POOHEAD189

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Skaldi dropped out of the opening, and for one so heavy and solid, he made very little noise on his landing. Cyrdic was constantly amazed at Dwarfs. The Elves of Ulthuan were often the ones that were given awe and reverence for their innate skills and abilities, but somehow even after all of this running and lack of food or water, Skaldi still seemed as if he could take more without complaint. He drew himself up, and glanced at what Camilla was pointing at.

As Cyrdic dropped down next, Skaldi spoke in a hushed tone. "The writing is bastardized." He said, stroking his beard thoughtfully, though with obvious distaste. "But it reads 'sacrificial offering' by my reckoning." Behind the two, Cyrdic caught Dietrichia, helping her down to the floor, having been lowered by Yantz. Then Yantz followed, and behind him Konrad. "What do they sacrifice?" Cyrdic asked no one in particular. Briefly he had the fear it was people, but there was too little opportunity actually gather people to cut up. His thoughts were probably darker than the reality.

Skaldi opened the barrel in question, and suddenly an overwhelming smell washed over him. He cringed, and the odor reached Camilla. It smelled like old game, having been chopped up days ago and left to its own devices. That was a bit odd. "I've heard tale they'll sacrifice sentient creatures like you or I, but that must be on special occasions." The Dwarf muttered, and without hesitation he reached into the barrel and pulled out a slab of meat, still somewhat bloodied and smelling like an open wound.

Dietrichia vomited at the smell and sight of Skaldi taking a bit out of it. Meanwhile, Ivan seemed nearly stuck from the top entrance, being the last one above after Boris had descended. It took Cyrdic and Boris to pull him through. Despite his belt being a few notches tighter from their journey, he was still the largest member of the party. "It seems Dwaf tunnels do not suit me, eh?" Ivan exclaimed as quietly as one could exclaim something, trying to be boisterous for the rest.

"Och, stop yer whining, witch!" Skaldi said. "It's better than dust and bone. Now..."

He tossed a few pounds of cut game on the ground. Cyrdic was curious at what exactly the Dwarf was planning. "Be useful and hit them with yer lightning to burn 'em. You, lad," he said to Konrad. The Greatsword had knelt down already, even the four foot fall making him wish to sit. "Aye, good Dwarf?"

"Look around for something to drink. I doubt we'll find Bugman's here. And take a care not to take a drink of whatever you see. They could have barrels of blood. Or worse." The Dwarf tossed some more meat onto the ground. The Witch had regained her dignity, and glared at the slabs of flesh with distaste, though her stomach growled loudly as if on cue. It was with great reluctance that she tried her best to summon her powers.

"What's worse than a barrel of blood?" Cyrdic asked.

Skaldi looked his way. "Dawi Zharr Ale! They get the formula all wrong. Tainted bastards."

Ozone filled the air as Dietrichia shocked the flesh on the ground with as controlled of a blast as possible, though the effort visibly strained her. She suddenly collapsed, Yantz catching her before she fell onto the ground. Steam rose into the air, and though any reiklander would say it was still beyond rare...meat was meat. Cyrdic had already (secretly) felt an intense hunger from the raw meat, but now? He grabbed up a slab and began to gulp down in great bites what looked to be a five pound piece.

"Water!" Konrad whispered excitedly to the group, having uncovered five barrels. One held an odd wine, the others had more meat, though they still had hair and hooves attached. But the fifth had actual water. "It's dirty as Sigmar's balls, but it's water, by the Hammer!"

"Wazakrok!" A cry echoed down the hall, and the clip clop of what sounded like hooves in the distance. An unintelligable exchange was transpiring not 12 paces away down another curve of the hall, but the group couldn't help themselves. They ate and drank at least a bit, as quitely as they could. It was filled with dirt and blood, but it would keep them going for the moment. Cyrdic reluctantly tossed aside what was left of his slab, knowing to fill himself too quickly, even starving, would hamper him more than he would want.

"Dahzah, fur kol naltorkag," one of the gravely voices barked, and soon a slow approach by one of the Dawi Zharr was evident.
@Penny

The Enemy Within: Warhammer 40K RP

It took Heironymus a second to believe his eyes, and the man rolled out of the way of a swiping sabre, catching himself and firing into one of the paintings come to life. Unfortunately, his shots brought the same results, save for splattering a tiny bit more paint onto the wall for his larger rounds. He was equal parts fearful and frustrated. He should have known it wouldn't be as easy as three shots to finish off the demonic taint in this place.

"Damn!" He cursed, and did his best to shoot the daemon that was attempting to rub away the chalk as well, to no avail with his two shots. He thought quickly, and his sharp mind didn't disappoint him. He shot at the closest abomination's feet. It did little damage to the painting, but the bolt rounds exploded and ripped into its feet, causing its entire form to fall and hit the ground, undoing the entire warp creation in but two well aimed shots.

He would have kept using that tactic if he had the time and distance, but they were all simply too closer to administer it. Instead he pulled Silvana along toward the exit of the room as she continued to fire at the anomalies, taking one down before Heironymus pulled her past the archway of the door. To his satisfaction, Silvana had the frame of mind to kick the door closed. It all happened within moments, half a dozen arbites sprinting up the stairs, lasguns at the ready at whatever they may find.

Seeing the two adepts covered in pain was the last thing they expected.

"What in the blazes?" The Sergeant asked. Heironymus took no time in explaining. "Sergeant, I need you and your men to increase the power in your lasrifles and fired through the walls into that room. Now!"

The arbites looked at one another uneasily, unsure of what to do. An Adept of the administratum did have seniority over them, technically, but there would be little in the way of reprecussions if they saw fit to disobey him, at least at the moment. However, there was something in Heironymus' voice that compelled belief. The Sergeant gulped, hoping the Lord did not blame him for ruining his house. "At attention men, get into lines and do as he says!"

The Arbites shuffled forward, organizing themselves in a rough line and aiming their lasrifles. "Fire staggered," Heironymus ordered. "Shoot as fast as you can!"

The Sergeant lowered his hand "Fire!"
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Initially, Cyrdic didn't know what to say. The very air was rough to breathe and cold to the core. He felt a wheezing crackle in his massive chest. The same hunger gnawed at him, yet to perhaps an even greater degree. The blessings of Ulric had its downsides, and Cyrdic's hunger nearly drove him mad. Though he knew Camilla seemed to be wasting away. He had to be strong for her. Even with his respect for her skills, and all they had been through, she had been a courtesan and duelist first. These past weeks had been nothing like she could have ever experienced, and even Cyrdic only had had a taste of it before he had flung himself into the wastes.

"We'll be ok," he told her. Promised her.

He was afraid as well, but his fear was nowhere near as powerful at his anger. Something he had to keep in check far more than usual, with the lack of food and water, and the odd obsession of the world with throwing them into terrible situations. He had the intense urge to find what being had decided to curse them, and bathe in his blood. With a will, he swallowed down the images. No...I will not be lost. The Blood God would not have him.

Instead, he nuzzled into Camilla's hair and held her, even his strong arms tiring. "We just need to go into that temple, and we'll be fine. We can do it, right?" He asked. Cyrdic waited for a long moment, and her muddied hand gripped the back of his. "Right," she said with a conviction. He kissed her head.

Konrad looked every part forlorn, though he gripped his greatsword with a strength born from desperation. Even Ivan seemed somewhat slower and more tired, and Boris looked as if he wished to charge out into the wastes of the Dark Lands and simply end it with his sabre in hand. Yantz seemed on the verge of violence for having to wait any further. Only Dietrichia and Skaldi seemed somewhat calm, though they both had an edge of wariness to them.

"Now is the time." Dietrichia said, standing up. Her red hair fell in waves about her, though the sweat of the day caused it to staick to her shoulders and back. "Lead us on, good Dwarf."

Cyrdic groaned, and helped Camilla up. Konrad had to use his sword to stand up, but down they went. The group hugged the crags and knelt as low as they could behind the rocks. Skaldi glared at the temple constantly, and they were not sure if it was he looking for the ventilation, or simply his hatred for his dark kin. The howls of beasts filled the air in the distance, seemingly carried by the faint wind.

"There," Skaldi called, pointing toward the southern end of the temple. His thick finger aimed at the left side of it. Camilla and Cyrdic would spot a small, square hole that hugged the rocky ground. It took Cyrdic a moment to realize it had been cleverly made to look like a uniform curvature in the deceptively blocky architecture. No matter their differences, these Dwarfs had the same eye for detail as their kin in the World's Edge Mountains.
@Penny

Warhammer Fantasy: The Guild of Esteemed Sellswords - An adventure in the Warhammer Fantasy world! [REBOOTED] [FULL]

FOR THE KARAZ UNKOR

The Enemy Within: Warhammer 40K RP

"They have been up there for quite awhile," The Lord remarked, having just finished explaining the year and painter that was responsible for the skillful artistry of the Sebastian Thor painting. As he had spoken, explaining the high price of the piece, and that he had received it from Friederek Kalo, a renowned painter of the ecclesiarchy, Heironymus had been pondering if there was any sign of corruption within the household.

From what he could tell, the Volantus family seemed pious enough. He could find no taint in the house, and if there was any, he had the suspicion that it would have been brought here by whatever had taken their Leopold. "Yes indeed," the Adept Baldemar said absently.

"May I offer you and your companion a drink?" the Lord asked, though at that moment Heironymus was noticing another sound. The telltale clack of shoed feet stepping down the stairways of the house. Around the corner, the Lady Sarkonad revealed herself. "Ah, Adept Baldemar was it? Do you truly think you can find him?"

"I swear by the Emperor's grace, we shall do our best." Heironymus said, giving an uneasy nod. "A-And I do believe I will take that drink n-"

He stopped, feeling a pressure at the edge of his skull. A brief echo that he dropped his defenses for, for but a moment. He heard his name within his own thoughts, and then he felt it. Something very off about this place, and he clenched his jaw. "If you'll excuse me, I shall go and check on my companion." He said.

"Shall I take the drink up to you, then? I have servan-"

"No!" he ordered, startling them. "I will be back down shortly."

It took all of his will power not to reach for his bolt pistol immediately. He did not turn back toward the couple as he turned the corner and stalked up the stairs, retrieving his weapon and unhooking his cloak. He did not know what to expect. He truly believed it was most likely he would walk in on Silvana at work, and she would ask why he disturbed her in her fashion.

The halls were well embroidered upstairs as they were downstairs, though there was a distinct difference. There was the faint smell of sulphur in the air, and a presence he found unholy yet tantalizing, causing his facade as the amused adept to fall away, and the grim faced Inquisitor revealed himself. He readied his pistol, out in front and kept it steady. Two doors down, the door was ajar. He stepped in front of it to see Silvana splayed out on the floor, and an iridescent rift within reality upon the wall before her.

"Emperor's mercy..." he breathed, as the leg of a daemon stepped out of the rift. A clawed hand reached outwards, and out stepped something he had only heard tell of in the darkest books of study. A Daemonette of Slaanesh, both hauntingly beautiful, yet with a hermaphroditic wrongness to its form, its
eyes firmly set on Silvana's still form. Heironymus knew it was by the grace of the Emperor that she had not been possessed outright. The young Baldemar had never seen a true Daemon. He only froze for half a moment as it stepped forward to grab her.

He shot it in the side, the blessed bolt of his gun
piercing its skin and body, ripping its arm off. It moaned with what seemed a mix of pain and pleasure, its head whipping to regard Heironymus, a movement that was terrifyingly instant. It's tongue slithered out of the Daemonnettes full lips, and it called Heironymus' name.

The Interrogator shot it in the head, and then into its chest once more. The warp rift suddenly began to lose clarity, but he wouldn't leave that to chance. On instinct, he reached for the holy emblem underneath his shirt and held it aloft, chanting a prayer to the divine emperor as the portal began to tear itself apart, and fade into nothingness as if it had never been. He breathed for a few moments, collecting his thoughts. "Goddammit," he breathed, sure that the commotion upstairs would surely have reached below, and he tried to wake Silvana up. "Silvana!"
@Penny

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 2 (Completed)

Dax is gonna push that werewolf to the

BRINK

Warhammer 40k: No Pity, No Remorse, No Fear! - A Black Templars RP

Thanks to the machine spirit aiding his Mark VII Power Armor, Tiberius heard, or rather felt the faint tremors along the floors as a veritable horde approached the group in droves. It was his instinct that told him their allegiance, and the large Adeptus Astartes held himself against the wall to strike in their midst rather than before them. It was in the split second when he saw the mutant at the fore that he knew his intuition to be correct.

He stepped out into the main hall, his powersword now lit and thrumming with a fury that matched its wielder. His very steps wrought destruction, crushing some smaller heretic's legs as he waded forward. With a strength beyond them, and a blur of movement, Tiberius had sheared through three heretics and a mutant. "By the Emperor's creed, you shall be punished!" he cried, hacking apart four more and using his free hand to literally bash the skull in of a heretic.

He felt claws and makeshift weapons itch across his armor, but it did little to harm him. Even the autoguns at full capacity gave the lightest of dents in his armor. "To me, brothers!" He called to the other Black Templars, carving a way back toward them, allowing them to spearhead into the enemy's ranks and exploit the chink of weakness in their lines. With a final hack, he had cleared the way, blood pooling along the floor.

It still was not enough for Tiberius' reckoning.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

The nearest volcano belched forth, spewing magma and ashes into the air. It was horrifying, and yet almost mesmerizing to watch, and it took Skaldi barking at them in Khazalid to get the companions moving again and out of harms way. Konrad tripped over some rock, and Dietrichia fell from the shaking ground, but Ivan and Yantz caught them and set their feet steady, the group moving as quickly as they dared over the uneven ground.

"Where's the closest temple!?" Cyrdic yelled over the tumult of the raging earth. He seemed to be talking to Skaldi. The Dwarf scowled at that. "Why would I know where the next blasted Temple would be!? I don't come here on vacation!" They vaulted over a stone that jutted out of the ground, and it reminded Cyrdic of the ever moving earth within the Chaos wastes, something he desperately wanted to forget.

However, Skaldi spoke up moments later. "Uzkulak!" He spat, as if the very word left a foul taste in his mouth. The volcano roared as well in seemingly mock distaste. "North of us is a dark port the Dawi Zharr use called Uzkulak. It's the only place I could think of. Me kin in the North have to deal with their machinations!"

"Let's hope that there's a temple outside of the city itself," Cyrdic muttered.

"I long for za clear vind of Kislev on my face! And a horse underneath me!" Ivan lamented, clearly growing tired of having to be away from his native land. "Ve should have never taken the sword vith Nordland." Boris said. "I vanted to gain saum loot, not visit all thrice poxed lands within a pair of months!"

"Vear not, ve are almost there." Ivan said, giving a jovial wink even as they passed through a thick cloud of ash. The roars continued however, in a strange, jumping sort of sound. It took Cyrdic a moment to realize those were not noises made by the mountains of fire. He...felt an instinctual connection to them. "Wolves?" He said aloud, only for Skaldi to glance his way, and then curse. "Hobgoblin riders!"

"By Ranalt, look!" Camilla called, pointing down a small valley that lay beneath them. A small ziggarut rose from the earth, the color of the stonework even redder than the earth it rested upon. However, it looked well hidden. "You have fine eyes, indeed." Konrad said to the woman. They merely needed to traverse a few crags and not be caught upon the sabers of their pursuers. Cyrdic also had a distinct feeling even if they made it inside, it would not be a matter of simply walking in...
@Penny

The Enemy Within: Warhammer 40K RP

"As you will, sister." Heironymus said, giving a slight bow to Silvana as she and the Lady of the House went upstairs to perform her business. His eyes lingered on them for a moment. He wasn't entirely sure if trusting her was the right idea, but then he scolded himself mentally. He needed to trust Inquisitor Alrik to trust her, and so far she had been nothing but helpful. Unfortunately, a psyker with the best intentions can still be corrupted by the warp. He had a small sense of sadness as he saw her ascend the stairway. He disliked having to be wary at all times around one who still wished to serve the Imperium.

"Shall I show you the central room?" Lord Volantus asked, and Adept Baldemar turned to regard the man with a sympathetic smile. "By your leave my lord," the young Interrogator replied. "Why I daresay we may yet find clues even within the main area of the house. How often did he leave his room? Was he a recluse?" The young Baldemar placed a hand on the Lord's shoulder as they both strode into the next room. Above them, a depiction of a crimson raven over a horizon of steel was portrayed upon the ceiling. It only took the Interrogator but a moment to realize what it stood for.

"Well the lad enjoyed his privacy," The Lord said, and he took a load off by sitting down on a very comfortable looking chair of swelling cloth. "But no, he was not a problematic loner. He would often come down and spend time with his family, and he was always quite fond of his sisters."

"Ah he has siblings. Where are they now? How old are they?" Heironymus ran a finger over the front wall, feeling the smooth surface and looking for any oddity. Xenos or Chaos driven, there were many subtle ways to infect a home of the Imperium. Behind him, the Lord spoke up. "They're receiving their education at this hour, both younger than Leopold. They were devastated when he disappeared, perhaps even moreso than myself or my wife. They were-are quite close."

The room was large, hexagonal in shape. Despite the very bland coloring of the walls, it was covered in tapestries and paintings to add much more life and color to the area. The largest painting of which was of Sebastian Thor, one of the most influential saints of the Imperium from the 36th millenium, having saved the Imperium from the Tyranny of Goge Vandire. "A marvelous piece..." Heironymus said as he examined the painting.
@Penny

Warhammer 40k: No Pity, No Remorse, No Fear! - A Black Templars RP

@Jbcool Noted, good sir!