POOHEAD189

Hi!

Welcome to the Guild! It's very lovely having you :)

Damned to the Depths

The crew found themselves on deck not hours later, with every bit of the outpost either pillaged or burned. All of the booty was then collected and piled onto the boat, save the two cannons and ballista they received from the fort, that were all now being placed down on the gun decks. Calliope had been right, they had been willing to surrender after that display of magical force. Even beforehand, they had been losing too many soldiers to retain any cohesion or order. They just hadn't know it yet.

Killing hostages was bad business. Particularly soldiers and men of worth like the commander of the outpost. You could ransom men like that, or give them a spot on your crew if they so wished it. But this commander was a bit too highborn to accept ransom, and a bit too lowborn to be worth much. And by the way he was acting, spitting at Markus' feet and claiming Calliope was the daughter of the devil, Markus had little choice but to make an example of him.

Markus had seen it before, but he had never ordered keelhauling. Jim tired a rope to the Commander's hands and tossed it over the mainmast, and over the entirety of the ship. Halvar and Corsica pulled at Markus' order...It only took fifteen minutes, but once they lowered the Commander's soaked and bleeding corpse onto the deck of the Weather Witch, the other soldiers, tied up and unarmed, were willing to cooperate.

Halvar had been in dire straits, having been shot in the stomach and cut across the collarbone. But they had found the cache of healing potions, salves, and herbs the outpost kept and saved him. Everyone expected him to be bedridden for a few days, and he did indeed look weaker. But the Norgardian was made of strong stuff and still stood with the crew while they divided up the booty, the tied up men of the outpost watching helplessly as their belongings were quartered off. Grimey's share looked almost as big as her.

As Markus distributed the wealth, Corsica looked a bit put off, raising an eyebrow and standing tall, her hands on the hilt of her sword. "Do you think because you lead us that you deserve more of the treasure?" she asked, dangerously. Scythians were known to be clever for barbarians, but they were also blunt as hammers.

Markus looked at her. "Is this your first time on a pirate ship?" he asked her. She nodded after a moment's hesitation. Markus held his hand up to halt the snickers.

"Captain and First mate get double shares. Quartermaster gets a share and a half. That's how it's always been." he said. "Unless you see fit to challenge me for it."

There was a flash of eagerness in her eyes, but it disappeared after a moment. "I wouldn't want to hurt such a pretty face." she joked, and Markus grinned. The Captain called for Sron, and the Gnoll was finishing hauling the last of the rum they had requisitioned, and he motioned them over to the piled bottles of the stuff. "This is freely and evenly given," he said. Before he had even finished, the crew were running over to it. "We sail tomorrow, hangovers or no!" he roared.

Sketti stood beside him, chuckling darkly. "They're a fine crew, but a bit boisterous."

"As long as they can sail and fight." Markus replied. The Dwarf nodded. "Aye. What of the prisoners?"

"Take them to the brig, I'll speak to them tomorrow." Markus said, turning back and walking over to the rum pile. The tripplettes moved out of the way as if they were the parting sea, and Markus grabbed a bottle and tossed it to Calliope, motioning her to follow him to the cabin. Once inside, Markus would reach into his coat and take out the amulet he had gathered from the chest. It was an obsidian-looking ruby, carved and cut a thousand thousand times, as black as coal and attached to a silver necklace. What's more, it was in the shape of a Dragon's head.

"You did fine work." he told her, placing the amulet on the desk and sliding it over to her. "I don't have the skill to see what this does, but you earned it."

Info

Amulet of the Black Drake
Inside residents the life essence of one of the descendants of Rugamesh the Abyss, the oldest known living black dragon. Grants the wearer a reserve of magical power. The downside, the soul could take over your body after long exposure through mental intrusion. The upside, if you conquer the soul, you gain increased abilities and Dragon characteristics, their strength, senses, and greed, and you could perhaps even transform into a small Drake at will. But only if you truly master it. Can be sold for quite a pretty penny to the right buyer. Calliope might or might not know the entirety of this information.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

A few of the strike team seemed uneasy by the way they stood, even if their faces were neutral and hardset. If Neil hadn't already worked with soldiers in the past, he wouldn't have noticed. But he did, and he couldn't blame them. "Oh, it's my party now?" he asked audibly, then stepped forward, feeling the ice particles beneath him crunching until he made it to where the the grenade had fallen short. He held out his right hand.

Nothing.

"Other hand." Junebug seethed.

"Oh yeah." Neil replied, and held out his left hand.

The grenade detonated.

The group crouched and held their hands in front of their faces, though they were too far off to be effected. If Neil had been standing 10 feet to the right, he would have been consumed, but miraculously he was ok, other than a few scratches from the smallest bits of shrapnel, and a ruddiness to his right side having felt a sudden, intense heat. He lay face first in the snow. Woods and Taya rushed over to him, the soldier woman aiming her rifle at the woods as she knelt down by Neil, and Taya shook him. "Neil, are you ok?"

He lifted his head, a bit cut but alright. "I guess we know that the technology works now." he deadpanned.

Saxon growled, as if disappointed that Neil was still alive. In all probability, he was disappointed. York shook his head, though he did have a smile on his lips. The light hearted feeling of the group, and the success of the tattoo, was short lived. It was replaced with fear and wonder as the earth beneath them began to shake for a few, heart pounding seconds before a shape began ascending from the ground not a dozen paces north of them. A vast shape, as large as the Highlander, that split and lifted the tall pines. Small Xenos animals began scurrying away into the dark recesses of the forest in shock and fear.

Lights, both red, white, and green, began to flicker from the smooth, impossibly smooth, multifaceted building that surfaced, and a large red scan began to filter down across the group. Woods quickly grabbed Neil's hand and held it out, and when the scanner motioned over it, a door, the shape of half an oval, opened up from the center. Everyone stopped for a moment, unsure of what to do. Even Sven, the near emotionless cyborg, gaped in awe as he drank in the sight, as if he could sense the level of technology that dwarfed all that he had yet seen in this life.

Neil gathered himself up, dusting the snow off of him and helping Taya up. He took out his heavy caliber revolver. "Well, I'm ready when you're ready."
@Penny

The Elder Scrolls: Swords and Snobbery

Markus tried to gather himself as best he could, but to his surprise he saw Raelynn throw caution to the wind and saunter over to his cell as if this was a conjugal visit! He didn't have enough wits about him to stand up immediately. "What are you-" he asked, before her eyes bored into him and she knelt down, placing her hands on him as she began to perform healing spells. He felt the restorative magicka flowing through him.

He couldn't look away from her eyes, the blue orbs swallowing him up. His own dark eyes would look even darker, akin to chocolate shadows of night. Once she was done, he placed a hand to his chest and steadied himself, letting her scamper off. He had never felt odder than that moment. That wasn't what he would fantasize about a woman as beautiful as her, but it was nearly as pleasant. In fact he felt vaguely uncomfortable, because it was so pleasant and intimate, and it was in such contrast to the woman he thought he had gotten to somewhat know.

He turned in time to catch the sway of her hips as she entered her cage. "Thank you." he said breathlessly, though it sounded all too soft and quiet for the large favor she had just done him. Perhaps she had wanted to get even, for him taking a beating for her. Maybe she simply wanted him at peak performance to escape? He didn't know.

Yes...they would wait for nightfall. Markus declined onto the sidewall, resting his head. It wouldn't be long now...

---

The moon had risen, and the cool air of Skyrim had turned far cooler. Many would call it frigid, and even inside they felt the nip of the chill. The guards moved about methodically, their footsteps audible over the stone. And in the spellsword's cell, Markus stirred and opened his eyes, having kept his gaze away from looking further within the jail to let them get used to the dark. He had no idea if Raelynn was ready, but he gave one snap of his fingers.

To anyone not privvy to their plan, it would sound like any creak, or crackle of fire, or any other mindless, numerous noise of the dark. But it was close enough to feel keen in Raelynn's ears, and to Markus' hearing, he had just stopped hearing the guards movement down the hall.

The time was now.

Damned to the Depths

A third chop of the Axe opened a large, gaping hole in the doorway. Two muskets poked through the hole, and Markus could see the eyes of them men, and he could hear the order of "fire!" The Captain leaped over a desk, feeling the air whip by him as the musket balls slammed into the wall a moment previously. The blademage felt a small pressure on his side. Had he been hit? He didn't have time to check. Instead, landing on the floor he saw the curtain drape across the window opening.

Desperately and without hesitation, he rose and grabbed a hold of the curtain. He tugged on it to make sure the weight would hold, and then pulled himself up, sword sheathed and climbing. Behind him, more shouting and another blow of the axe.

Calliope would see a callused hand grab the edge of the balcony railing, and Markus would crest and tumble onto the balcony floor, taking deep breaths. There was a cacophony of sounds in the courtyard below, but he didn't have time to check on his crew members. Hopefully they were not engaging too hard or they would be dead. Instead he gathered himself and took measure of the room. A wicked grin spread across his face when he saw Calliope holding what had to be the groaning Commander and chanting a spell. For a former tyrant, she knew how to take matters into her own hands.

He passed her by, and rummaged through the room for a torch, or anything he could potentially burn. There were papers on the desk, and the painting of a heavily rogued mermaid behind the throne-like chair looked flammable. On the wall by the door that men were more than likely running up to in a matter of minutes, he saw a torch. His eye scanned the room further, and at the foot of the bed, there was a chest. Markus went back and fished for the keys in the man's pockets, producing two. He stepped away, leaving Calliope to her incantation. He felt slightly jealous and underwhelming. He only recognized two syllables of the magical language she was now spilling out as if it was her mother tongue.

Unlocking the chest at the foot of the bed, he opened it to reveal personal items. Letters of Marque, a pocket watch with a woman in it, a crumpled hat of old, and a contrasting, fabulous captain's uniform. No gold. "Damn," he said, but caught himself. No, he knew. He made his way to the desk and pressed his foot below it, feeling the carpet give slightly. He felt an instant wave of relief, knowing that if they had no gold to show for this farce, his crew would shatter to the seven winds or mutiny.

Taking the rondel dagger, he carved out bits of the carpet to find a small trap door. He opened it and hauled out another small chest, unlocking it to reveal what he guessed had to be a stone weight in gold and twice that in silver, and a necklace with a ruby pendant that caught the eye enchantingly. Markus immediately grabbed the necklace, not to keep, but to be quartered off to whomever deserved it the most. They would open the chest together on the ship and they would all want that first. He then lifted the small chest up and placed it on the desk.

Calliope's spell was reaching a crescendo, and Markus knew there was little time. He vaulted the desk and did what Calliope did below, pushing a cabinet in front of the door. He grabbed the torch and lit in, moving over to the balcony and hauling up the curtain. He swiftly cut the curtain's rope to separate it from the cloth as a whole, and then burned the cloth itself, lighting a large fire that beckoned into the night as if a beacon.

Moments later, as Markus collected the small bit of rope he cut off from the curtain, the gun batteries of the Weathered Witch opened fire. Cannon balls punched through the tavern and barrack, two shots for both buildings. Markus went to gather the loot from within the room.
@Penny

Casual rp me and a friend.

Sorry bud, Casual RPs are for RP's on the guild, not discord!

Cara's Originally Titled OoC Hangout Thread ♥ (Still)

Oooh, Scotland was on my list of places to visit. We just never did. Rainry country, vulgar language, great alcohol... It sounds perfect!
I have a Danish buddy, as generally skeptical as he is he makes his country sound amazing. And I have another friend currently living in Norway. Oh, two friends living in Norway....
How did I collect so many friends?

@Carantathraiel

You sound like me, loooool
But indeed, travel is the key.

Damned to the Depths

"Aye." Markus breathed, too busy to stop and wipe the blood off of his backsword. "No wonder they chose to be pirates rather than city thieves." Markus turned to leave, before he heard a grunt behind him, and stopped for a moment. He turned back around to see the man with a hole in his chest weakly reach for the pistol strapped behind his back, and in an instant Markus moved to simply cut the man's hand off.

But he hesitated, and caught himself. It wasn't too long ago when he was a soldier, both for country and for hire. After a second of contemplation, he ran the man through the neck to end his life quickly. A soldier's death. "We need to get to the top floor." Markus said. They both moved in unison, rapier and backsword out, moving through the short corridor lined with golden and crimson banners, and finding the stone stairs. The thick wooden door opened to reveal six men, four with muskets and two with large axes. Two muskuteers were at the fore.

"Matar a los bastardos!"

Calliope ran a musketeer through before he could get his gun up. Markus cut one's arm in a flash with his offhand rondel dagger, causing him to drop the primitive firearm. The rakish corsair caught it, spun the musket until its butt struck the soldier in the chin, and he shot into the crowd. The smoke and shot in such close proximity bought them some time and Calliope slammed the door shut, blowing a few loose strands of hair out of her vision. "That way is a bit too crowded for my tastes." she said dryly.

The door they had come in from suddenly opened, and another three men stepped out. A crossbowman with a scar over his lip, and two younger pistol wielding soldiers. Likely they had heard the earlier musketshots. The crossbowman was ready, firing a bolt and nearly hitting Markus, the bolt struck the wooden door, quivering, mere inches from his face. "And that way is a little hostile." He replied, and the two turned around to the northern end of the hall at the center of the corridor, the only area soldiers had yet to burst out from.

Markus raised his hand and uttered a quick word of power, and fire sudden burst forth from Markus and engulfed the two pistoliers and crossbowman, the pistols cracking as they shot wildly. The door they had been holding suddenly burst open, but Markus and Calliope were already moving, the Captain holding his First Mate's forearm to help her move in the confusion, just in case. Two musket balls ricocheted off the stone walls just as the two slammed the door behind them, finding themselves in what looked to be a darkened office.

Calliope cursed, realizing the only way out was behind them, unless they wished to leap 30 feet to the hard ground. Markus made it to the window, opening it up and looking both down and up. Behind him, Calliope used her weight to knock over a cabinet in front of the door. She was answered by bullets and crossbow bolts puncturing the all too thin door, scything into a wall. "Any other bright ideas?" she asked Markus.

Markus ran his hand along the stone window bottom, checking to see if it was wide enough to stand on. "Here," he bade her breathlessly, adrenaline keeping him honed to a razor's edge. She moved over to look out at what he was gazing at, and looked up to see a small balcony above them, a man's height away with thin openings in the stone pillars that held the embroidered railing aloft. It was too thin for Markus, but Calliope...

"You'll need to squeeze those breasts through, but..." he said, trying to make light of the situation. Another volley rang into the room, and an axe blade suddenly pierced the door. Markus quickly knelt down and raised his hands to let her get a boost out of the window. If Markus could climb the outer wall, Calliope could with her slim fingers. "Find some rope when you get up there," he told her, trying his best to sound steady.
@Penny

Warcraft: War of the Ancients

Bump for more peeps to join!