POOHEAD189

Solid Wood Dining Set UK

I nearly banned you for being an adbot, lmao.

Into the Shadow

Roland planted himself on the left side of the door, checking the strap on his kite shield to make sure it was tight and steady. The shield was emblazoned with a hammer and anvil sigil signifying his order, and though he wasn't a full Knight, it did give people peace knowing he had been trained by men of the rank. He looked up from his arms and armor and met eyes with Iseldis. She didn't look as full of trepidation as he felt, but he supposed they were both trying to keep cool headed. He gave her a grin, almost fierce. As if to say 'this is what we are here for.'

He turned the Knob, and didn't give the 'creak' of the door the time to give away their position. Instead he busted in, strong shoulders leading with his shield, but rather than knock over a Draugr he bumped into a couch which hit the central table, sending it screeching across the floor. Though it did provide an obstacle for the Draugr that was within the central room, the ghastly thing turning and letting out a dust-filled breath from its decayed lungs.

It had almost nothing left in common with the man it had been in life, save its two arms and legs and a semblance of the equipment it had been buried in. What looked like a worn chain shirt and a helm of hide and bronze. It was its eyes that were the most unnerving thing about it, glowing with blue witch-light that exuded a malevolent intelligence. That, and its teeth were sharp but few, its gums protruding after having bloated in death.

It knocked the chair aside that had been shoved in its way, going round the couch to try and attack Roland, who waited for a moment as it approached before he had a clear shot, and shoulder rushed the thing again. It was stronger than it looked, pushing back, but it had little momentum and hit a desk against the wall, its hip nearly crushed. Roland was sweating, having never fought anything so unnatural in his short career. His skin crawled merely being in the same room as it.

The other Draugr appeared out of the kitchen door, at the foyer the front door had been opened from. It hissed and stretched its arms out, seeing Roland's somewhat exposed back as a sign to attack.
@Luminosity

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

The comm crackled like popped bubblewrap. Only in the briefest intervals would Sayeeda be able to pick up the odd word or two. Spoken in quick succession and to one another in their native tongue. The volume on the static too a downward spiral, and suddenly the frequency popped and then skyrocketed into a high pitch squeal of a sound, and then silence. Until a clear, cold voice spoke over the comm with an air of confidence.

"Hello." the voice said, obviously accented and rough, but still somewhat cultured in its inflection. "To whom am I speaking to?"

"Captain Cyckali of the Highlander crew." she replied. "Your name and rank?"

There was a silence for a moment, and then an answer. "Raoul Shajar. Colonel."

As Sayeeda was making contact, Neil checked the integrity of the "door" Saxon had made after slamming that slab shut, even welding a bit of it with his multitool to keep it steady, mouth grinning widely at the sight of the flames, giving the youthful man a terrible look to his otherwise charmingly sly features. Behind him, he could hear Sayeeda's answers growing more curt as she had to literally drag out the terms of ceasefire.

"Allow us to leave unharmed and unmolested, and no more of your men need die." She said.

"Or we could allow you to starve." the voice said back. Neil had a feeling whoever Raoul was, he was probably a disgraced Baron having fallen on hard times. "Unless you wish to join us, that is."

"We have a contract with another benefactor. I don't break contracts. Business is business."

"Then you can hardly blame me for not aiding your...benefactor by allowing you to leave."

"If you think-"

Neil had begun to explore the back of the chamber, a memory of a memory bringing him to look for another option. In the wall looked to be an enclosed archway, only there was no door here it seemed. Only the archway, with various archaic pressure points along the wall set in a hexagonal fashion. He gingerly pressed the third to the left, two feet above his head. There was a sudden exhalation of air from an unknown vent, and a small control chamber slid out chest height.

"Hey! Hey big guy!" Neil whispered, drawing Saxon's burning gaze. He motioned for him to come over. The Xenos did begrudgingly, stomping past the interlocking walls to the corner where Neil stood. "What do you want?" He sounded less than pleased, though that was usually the norm. Neil pointed at the wall.

"Bend down and pick it up, will you?" he said.

Saxon just looked at him quizzically. Neil's fingers almost sang a tune as he manned the control console. If his Aelahyne memory served, and it was technically uploaded knowledge so it would serve without fault like a machine. Just a few more seconds and he would have it, but he didn't have the strength to move it. Normally with a stable power source it would, but now?

"What are you bleating about?" Saxon warbled.

"Look!" Neil exclaimed, pointing. The Hexanagallion looked again, and sure enough there was a slit in the wall where there had not been, just next to the floor. Saxon gave Neil one last look of contempt before bending down and placing his great claws upon the fallen wall, lifting it up, inch by grinding inch until it revealed a small inner corridor, lit by a strange red glow that seemed to have no source. As Taya placed a hand over her mouth, Neil grinned wickedly.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic awoke in a sweat, fingers gripping what he knew to be dirt. The grass tickled his nose, and before he opened his eyes he could still smell the dew that had all but faded away into nothingness. He couldn't remember how he had gotten here, nor where here even was. Tall trees of yew, willow, and beech surrounded him, blooming out of a sea of bushes and vibrant ferns that had apparently been good at hiding his sleeping form.

He perked his head and listened, the birds and wind rustling the leaves, the beetles on the crackling bark, the soft padding of hares in the brush. All were caught in his keen hearing, though it was still subtle. So many soft sounds, he found it hard to think or focus. All he knew was his head felt like someone had split it with an axe.

Wait...

Desperately he felt his abdomen, but could only feel hard muscle. He reached for the small of his back and again, he found no scar. Had he dreamed being run through? No, he hadn't. He remembered the sword point that had punched through his stomach. Segmented, his memory began to flood into him, and as a it did, he looked around the area he slept.

Great mounds of dirt were torn as if by some massive hammer, and the tree he lay at had finger marks. Only...these marks had cut into the very wood. Not even iron tools could have done such a thing. They looked like bear marks. He remembered making them, and he remembered being in control of his actions. Somehow, he had felt the need to expend energy after having slaughtered the old Baron. He could still smell the stained blood.

The sun was warm, but he realized that the night cold had not bothered him over much. Cyrdic's only clothing was his ruined trousers. He had taken his boots off in the night for a reason he couldn't recollect. How long had he been out here? He felt a thick goatee had grown on his chin and above his lip, and his hair had grown wild and unruly. He felt naked, though not because of a lack of clothing. He wanted his sword. Where was it?

Camilla! Where was Camilla?

He gave a rippling growl as he abruptly sat up, which caused a yelp from further down the way. It sounded like a man, and Cyrdic blinked the tiredness of his eyes as he heard soft footsteps approaching. "Ulric, Sigmar; Wolf and Hammer" he grumbled, his voice scratchy from having not spoken in God's knew how long. Or had he howled last night? The Ostland man got to his feet, taking in a deep breath as a peasant man strode into view.

Covered in mud and almost as wild haired as Cyrdic, the man fell back in shock upon seeing Cyrdic standing there, something which almost confused him until he realized finding half naked soldiers in the forest wasn't an everyday occurrence. The man fell onto his rump, scrambling backwards. It was all Cyrdic could do to give a statement in broken Brettonian that he meant no harm. It did help a bit. The man stopped and asked Cyrdic what he wanted.

"Clothes and a meal would be good." he replied.

If only Cyrdic could see himself as the man saw him. Eyes of molten gold, and a sculpted physique even more powerful than he had been. All of this under a mane of wolfish hair.

Two parts fearful of his life and one part awe led the man to bring Cyrdic back to his hovel of a village, which looked to be in even more poor condition than the usual Brettonian fief, with houses made of stone and roofs of naught but straw and some support beams to keep it up, and dried mud to stick it all together. But a well was in use in the center of the settlement, and most of the women and children were somewhat washed. It seemed the men and the younger lads were the ones that were mostly filled with grime.

As Cyrdic was led into the small village, one woman screamed and fainted, and nothing simply stared, though out of fright or admiration at Cyrdic's bare chest it was hard to say. He was quickly led inside, his stomach now driving his entire mind and keeping its focus clear on the food he might get. It was a primal hunger.

"You. lucky." the man said, scrambling through half broken out-of-use boxes, finding a cooked chicken and an apple. "Death in land. Suis capable' get food, oui?"
@Penny

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

@The Fated Fallen It's true. All of the loud and obnoxious comes from @Stormflyx
But it's ok, she's too pretty to be mad at.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

I was just about to post, but I noticed our resident @Mortarion hadn't posted yet. Please do so when you can. It's ok if it's a little one!

Also everyone, we have made it through the weekend. Avengers, GoT, the lamentation of our women. I am proud of us.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

This is the biggest weekend of media the past decade tbh. Avenger's Endgame, and GoT's longest episode, which is also the longest filmed battle sequence in media! Love it!

Hi there.

@La Savant "A king may move a man. A father may claim a son. But that man may also move himself. And only then does that man truly begin his own game."

Love the avatar, my friend. Welcome to the site!

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Neil felt his head, and with a mild relief he realized he'd not received a concussion. Though the fall had been jarring enough to have him worrying he'd fall over again once he tried to get to his feet. Luckily, it was a hollow worry, and he stretched his right leg to get feeling back into it. "One thing after another." he whispered to himself, ignoring Saxon's entrance. Despite himself, he was still amused by the big guy. He knew Saxon hated him more than he could ever hate Saxon.

He approached the man Saxon had tossed to his death, and he gathered up the man's thrown assault rifle. Just a slug thrower, but it was better than none at all. He made sure the safety was on and he tossed it to Junebug, who caught it in her offhand and slung it over her shoulder. She still wielded her pistol in the close quarters of the inner ship. He didn't entirely trust Taya immediately with a gun, she was a tad shaken, though far less so than he thought she would be.

"Well, it's not an Aelahyne ship. It's an old Troxis ship from beyond the Palantine Void." he said, squinting past the bits of rock and dirt that crowded around the cavernous inner corridor. It lead away from the dank chamber they found themselves in. Saxon for his part lifted his head and gazed at Neil in what had to have been confusion. Taya spoke up.

"How can you tell?"

Neil looked at her, and then looked between all of them. "Does no one remember when 2 million years worth of Aelahyne knowledge was downloaded into my brain? No one?...When we were stuck in the last Aelahyne ship?"

"Ok, then what else do you know?" Junebug said.

"Well apparently from what the Old One's knowledge tells me, most Troxis ships are shaped like Hammerheads from Old Terra, if you've seen the Holos. We're in the loading bay, and down that corridor is the...Pherysian Room, which is a weird room where the Troxis would...somehow reorient subjective time dilation in order to help last long journeys through space." Neil blinked, beginning to understand the words that were pouring from his mouth. "They literally stepped into vats that would change time around them and their ship, and live as if a thousand year journey lasted a day...wow neat."

His last exclamation took the discovery awe right out of the group, and they still had a very real threat approaching from above. "We have to move." Junebug said, pulling Taya along as Saxon and Neil took point up ahead, barging through the broken stoneway into a wider chamber with, as Neil had guessed, broken vats half filled with a strange liquid of unknown dark coloration.

"Where to now?"

"The most defensible place would likely be to our right, if this is the same model ship I have in my uploaded memory."

Junebug moved without hesitation, her pistol at the ready as she took point this time, the others close on her heels as they cautiously entered a strange room with no other openings or exits, with various walls as tall as Neil's waist set up eight deep, as well as sunken premade trenches in the floors and a portcullis-like contraption at the entrance. Taya looked around wildly. "W-...what is this room?"

"This is the breeding room." Neil said, not wanting to delve any further into the strange Troxis anatomy that would cause a fortified room to be required for breeding. "Don't ask."
@Penny

Into the Shadow

Roland quickened his pace to receive the newcomer, holding his swordhilt, more to keep it from banging against his leg than to protect himself. The younger man looked harmless enough. He hadn't known what he expected from the lad, but two draugr being trapped in a home was definitely not it. Though he supposed it was better than bandits, depending on a few factors. He'd never faced beings wrought of dark magic, but he'd heard enough stories.

"Aye, I think we can handle that." Roland said, trying to keep the uncertainty out of his voice. It helped that he truly did think they could do it, but nervousness got the better of him. Though one of his good qualities was that he usually acted first and fretted later, and the young lad beamed at the proclamation.

"Oh thank you my lady, thank you sir." He said, giving many unpracticed bows.

There was a quick, guilty dismissal of the man as he really didn't need to praise them yet. Still, they agreed to help and he jumped at being able to guide them. He led them back to the small village area that seemed to pop out of nowhere through the thick trees. One could wonder what sort of things this forest could hide, if a whole village could be so hidden to not notice it until one stepped into the tree line.

The small houses made of timber and straw sat in a squat formation that made only three or four poor dirt roads leading into different goat paths into the forest. Smoke wafted lazily from makeshift chimneys, and the only place here that seemed sturdy enough to survive a harsh storm was a single old lookout tower made of stone that loomed thrice as high as the small houses. Townsfolk gathered round in the center of town, the men and a few elderly ladies squabbling among one another as the children and mothers sat on the porches with looks of both worry and excitement.

"I said we should have caved the tombs in years ago!" One man cried, and another man answered him with. "-They haven't bothered us until now, you think they were waiting for this? Something must have happened."

"It's Rottengild, the Crypt lord." an old woman foretold.

"Yer daft, it's old Therzun practicing his magics in the forest." The bearded blacksmith remarked. "He's the sort we need to go to the king about."

"Galena! Mistress of mercy, who is that?" a mother cried, pointing at Iseldis and Roland as they were led in by the lad, the crowd parting, no doubt thinking they were far higher rank than they truly were. But they gave them suspicious and odd looks all the same. The younger man spoke up. "I've found a Knight and a Monk o' the moon! By Baeldyr, they'll save us. Move! Let them through."
@Luminosity