POOHEAD189

Arena Chat Thread

Alright, let's reel it back in, make points clear and concise, and try not to be toxic.

Karak Eight Peaks RP Interest Check (Warhammer Fantasy)

Tromm

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

I hope you guys can live a few more days while I finish a few things elsewhere! Thank you for posting on time :)

WARHAMMER 40K: THE TARSON INCURSION

Also, love the shades

WARHAMMER 40K: THE TARSON INCURSION

I guess this would be a good time to say that I kind of need to drop out of the RP :(
Not because I dislike it, but I don't think I can give a good effort even without the post deadlines. I was wanting to say it days ago but I procrastinating because you guys are great and I've been here awhile. But it needs to be done.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

When the boy opened the door for them, Cyrdic didn't know what he expected. A blood slicked floor, a tangle of limbs as men and women writhed together, or perhaps the summoning of a daemon. Instead, there was a dim corridor that creaked as they stepped through it, and markings along the door of the opposite end of the hall. They were not even marked in blood, but some form of adhesive, it looked. He settled his mask along his face to better see, and the two entered the room.

It looked close to a banquet hall, with a large, curvaceous table that stretched across the room. Various men and women, both fat and slim and all wearing masks chatted and loitered, speaking to one another jovially. Some lifted their masks up, but only enough to take a sample of the delectable meats and fruits at the smaller tables. It was even brighter in here than in the hallway. Cyrdic wondered if Oleg was crazy after all. The attack had happened but...this couldn't be where Chaos worshippers went to connive.

Camilla tugged at Cyrdic's sleeve, and she indicated him look up. He did so, his confusion turning to dread as he saw the grisly fresco that had been painted upon the ceiling. A bronze warrior of intense hatred, a putrid and rotting monster, a crow headed mage, and an hermaphroditic temptress were descending upon a bastion of fading light, and brutal carnage and blood ringed the walls as they unleashed their hordes upon innocent woman and children.

"Ah, hello." A voice like silk whispered, and the Ostlander felt a hand on his other arm, the side where Camilla was not. He looked down to see a slim woman, her mask in the form of two horses rearing upon their legs hiding most of her visage. "Ah new one I see...much larger than many of the others. How are you?" Her voice had more than a hint of suggestion to it, and Cyrdic didn't immediately answer.

Suddenly, a glass was tapped by a spoon at the fore of the room, and all conversation ceased almost instantly. Even the woman, who had nearly run her hand across his chest, had stepped away and stood in perfect silence, intently gazing at the man who has made the noise. A darkly cloaked figure, his face covered by the mask of a bull-headed daemon. In a trance-like slowness, he set down the glass and spoon politely.

"Take your seats." the voice commanded. It had a compulsion to its tone that beggared belief, though it wasn't impossible to fight. It only made you open to listening, and the aristocrats did as they were told. Cyrdic led Camilla to an empty part of the large table to not draw attention.

"When last we met, the time was not right. Nor is it now. But soon our patience will be rewarded. The army of our masters forms, and we are the daggers in the dark ready to help cleanse this nation of Bear worshippers." The man said. He did not have a kislevite accent. It was one Cyrdic couldn't pinpoint. Reikland? "Next we meet, Morrsleib will be full, and the time will be right. As of now, your orders are where they are always kept."

Everyone, in unison reached under the table and pulled out slips of parchment. Cyrdic and Camilla needed to reach for a moment, but they felt something brush their fingers and pull them out. It was a list of names, 12 in all. Both of their notes had them. On the bottom right of the parchment was a mark of Chaos, and Cyrdic could not even bring himself to hold it any longer, placing it on the table before him.

"But before that, delve into the nether as you always do." the voice said, placing a hand down on the closest man's arm and unsheathing a knife. With a quick chop, he severed a finger, causing the man behind the mask to cry out until he was breathed upon by the Daemon-masked one, and he began to moan instead, and smeared his bloody stump across the skin of the one next to him. Everyone began to unclothe, and women from within the walls began to sashay out of the tapestries, as naked as they day they were born, except masked as all others were. "Please Slaanesh and Tzeentch." he said. "Khorne and Nurgle shall have their fills in the siege..."

"We need to go." Cyrdic whispered.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic shook his head, smiling wide. "The only thing that's too much is the girl wearing them, and I wouldn't have it any other way." he said. The Ostlander seemed to be the only one that wasn't breathless at the sight of her, but the truth was he had just gotten better at hiding it. Much like how he hid his fear during battle, or when faced with chaotic magics. He tried to straighten his jerkin, but it was a bit off around his shoulders. Camilla approached and tugged at it for him, fixing it almost immediately. Oleg snorted.

"Well, you both look the part I must say." he said, patting his belly. "And I am hungry. Everything is as it should be, it seems. Now! One last thing I must pay an expenditure on is your ride. You need to go there in a bit of style, yes?"

"Our ride?"

Hours later, Cyrdic regretted listening to Oleg with a will. His pants, though soldierly to an aristocrat, did not do well on the Kislevite horse he was riding. Camilla rode a mare next to him of similar class, much more gracefully. He had never been fond on riding horses. He had forgotten just how good his lover was at it. They seemed to have too much ease and strength for such a light steed. The Kislevites truly were born horsemen to control a steed like these. "I don't see how anyone could ride in these clothes." He said softly as they trotted across the cobbled street. Even in the nicer part of Praag, the devilish architecture loomed over them with a a near malevolent aura.

"Having trouble?" Camilla asked lightly, though her horse still wasn't completely under her control.

"I just don't like riding."

Camilla gave an impish smile that Cyrdic caught, and he rolled his eyes. "You're better looking than the horse." Camilla laughed at that and replied with. "I theenk they are pretty mounts."

After a few more uncomfortable minutes, almost nearly running over a middle-aged couple, the two made it to the Hussar's Hooves. A glorious establishment made of stone, with wooden and silver trimming to give it an archiac, legendary look. There was also no grotesque statues, with the only figure being a life sized Hussar carved at the front of the two-way, curved walkway that lead into the tavern. Inside, the fire promised warmth and good food. Cyrdic could smell the fine meals out here.

Now they just needed to find the stabled and dismount, something Cyrdic doubted he could do without falling on his ass.
@Penny

Will They Reign Supreme? {Whispers x Poohead}

Meldyr had to admit he felt very refreshed when he left the bath, and a more noble man than he did back at home, at least in a fashion. There was true nobility in fighting for the lives of your people and your fellow soldiers. However, he felt more aristocratic and...leader-like with this tabard and well fashioned, kingly robes on. He even had new armor to don when he required it.

"I do. Feel more Kingly, I mean." He said, somewhat bashfully. He had always eaten, slept, and drank as his soldiers did to share in their toils. Though he still felt that was the best way to do things, he couldn't help but feel a bit elated at the nice hearty meal, and what the new clothes represented. It also accentuated his broad shoulders.

Though he looked good, the Queen looked...amazing. About as good as the meal, which his stomach truly yearned for. However, when the commoner was thrown at his feet, he steeled himself, surprised he would need to sentence someone so early in his reign. He had done so before in his lands, but he had no real jewels to speak of. Only bandits or apple thieves. "A jewel thief?" he said aloud, letting a moment or two pass before he stood out of his chair and stepped over to the cowering man.

He never took a man's life lightly. However this was not someone stealing for survival, but greed. "I do not wish to kill a man a day after I am king. But we also must uphold the law..." he let out ominously. "Throw him in the dungeons. A few years in the cells will change his mind of thievery, I think. Do you agree, my Queen?"

Post Your Pikcha

Agreed :

Most anticipated Games of 2018-2019

@Dynamo Frokane Alright dude, this is the 2nd time you've gone off the rails with memes which is impressive. But the others in this thread are right, that is toxic. I am not the kinda guy that likes getting onto people, but various members messaged me for the meme and since it's within a 24 hour period between the last time I had to get onto you, I'll give you one more shot or I'll need to take it up with the other mods. You don't have the best discord record, try to keep it clean here, eh?