POOHEAD189

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

Ok, so all we need is Morty and we can get going!

Into the Shadow

He felt somewhat awkward as she prepared his seat and handled the townspeople, but that was mostly his fault because she was doing exactly as she should have been. He just didn't want to move too much in case it would alter her healing powers for the wound in some way. Luckily that wasn't the case, and he sat down where he was bid and kept his head still, closing his eyes as she checked and healed the wound. It wasn't too deep, but it would be annoying and unnecessary to lose blood over a simple cut.

"I didn't know that," he admitted, referring to her powers being greater at night. He could barely comprehend how she could summon healing magic like that, much less how she powered herself with the moon. He had heard that members of his order could heal and summon fire at will, but that was far beyond his skills and probably forever would be. "I suppose I should have known it, though. With your order. Is it only if the moon is out, or does it simply get more powerful as the night continues?" he asked curiously.

Once she was done, he opened one eye to check, and then both. It had felt very odd being mended, but once the wound was healed, he felt one hundred percent again. He rubbed his cheek a bit when she asked her question. "No, I've only fought people before." he said. "My late master let me fight with him in two battles before he died. I was lucky to live through those, much less going into a lair of what could be filled with more Draugr but..."

Roland sighed and shrugged. It was their job, and he would see it through with a steadfast determination. "Let's get back on the road," he said, opening the door. "Before we-"

"Thank you!!!" a woman cried, which heralded a multitude of people cheering for them and offering them foodstuffs and places to stay for the night. Roland was effectively tongue tied. He would have refused outright, but he wasn't sure what was best for the both of them at the moment.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

20 minutes later, Neil stepped into the break room by the Cockpit access corridor where the crew usually ate their meals. Normally he would care about how presentable he was when in front of a pretty woman, and this one was more ravishing than almost any he'd seen. More beautiful than any remembered, at least. But he was just happy to have a shower and clean clothes.

His hair was matted and still glistening from the water, and the food and water in front of him he ate greedily. The harem girl sat across from him, her dark hair unkempt but somehow its softness was evident as it curled around her delicate shoulders in a thick, roughly tied stream. He looked up from his meal after a moment to see her looking at him, and he couldn't tell if she was simply watching how piggish he was being or if she was curious about something.

"Sorry," he croaked, and beat on his chest a bit with his fist to clear his throat.

She did the last thing he expected from her usual fearful demeanor. She laughed. "You're a high born gentleman compared to the last pasha. And you saved me, if you don't remember."

"I can't remember much other than sand at the moment." he joked, though there was more of a dry humor to it.

"Well, I am very grateful." she said with a small smile.

Junebug now entered, having changed into more comfortable, casual clothes just as Neil had. Taya was a bit too worn out, and before she even took a shower, she grabbed a few bites to eat and three large jugs of water and escaped into her room. Neil did not know where Saxon was. Probably in the cargo bay.

"So, your highness..." Junebug began.

"I'm just a lady, not a princess." Indra replied sheepishly, looking down. Neil could tell she had only come here because she had no other place to go. Well, she might be up shit creek without a paddle but at least that wasn't an uncommon trait among the crew, so she had good company.

Junebug nodded with good patience, though it was clearly running thin. Her and Neil might be up and about but they were far too tired to be agreeable or conscientious. "So, you say Sven is after you. You do realize that you being here compromises us... not that he doesn't deserve it. That bastard could..." she stopped, and Neil shared a look with her, clearly having though along the lines of what she was thinking.

If they gave him the girl, he would give them enough resources to leave the planet.

The beautiful woman took a moment, but she realized just what they were thinking and almost got out of her chair to run before Junebug's sidearm was trained on her. The woman clutched herself desperately, fear mounting again. "Please!" she gasped. She might not be a princess but she certainly played the part of a damsel. "You don't understand, if you rescue me my father would pay you handsomely! Please!"

"Don't worry, we're not that heartless." the Captain said. "But I can't have you fleeing at the sight of something not going your way."

"We should keep our options open." Neil said casually, and when Indra couldn't tell if he was joking she looked at him in fear as well. He held his hands up, calming her with his next words. "Whoa whoa whoa, don't worry. Look, I didn't save you just to toss you to the wolves again." She visibly relaxed. Neil had to consciously not look at her voluptuous figure when she did so. "But we do need a way off this planet. Can we brainstorm without you thinking we'll fuck you over?"

She nodded, too exacerbated to speak.

"Cool. Now, how far away is Cyclopia?"

"Cylonieka" she corrected him. "Its in a nearby system."

"If we radioed your father, would he be able to send us support?" he asked her, confident that if they were out of range, Neil could go to the city scavenge yard and see if he could upgrade the comm system. To his and Sayeeda's satisfaction, she nodded emphatically. Now Neil really needed to not look at her bouncing body. Thankfully, he was too tired to have the energy to fantasize about anything right now. He'd need a good sleep, or at least he felt like relaxing, but then they could get to work.

And maybe talk about selling her to Sven without her in the room if all else failed, but he'd rather not do that. Hopefully, Junebug wasn't lying and had similar reservations about human trafficking.
@Penny

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

@Gardevoiran@IcePezz

I forgive <3 :)

I do need some posties tho!

Into the Shadow

He had dropped his sword and drawn his dagger on pure muscle memory, more of a testament to those he learned from than himself. But it seemed he needn't, because his companion burst into action and ended the threat before it began. He might have been the one to save her earlier, but that move was a work of art in his opinion. He sheathed his dagger as she caught her breath, though his eyes were still on her for a few moments. At least until she grinned at him and he realized he was staring.

"Huh? Oh yeah." he said, smiling at himself as much as her. He reached up and felt the wet blood on his cheek. He'd almost forgotten he'd been cut. "Yes, please." He breathed, pulling himself a chair and taking a seat.

As she went to work he looked at thew Draugr corpses. He now could appreciate what they'd just accomplished, and he couldn't help but grin as well like she had moments ago. It was nothing out of the tales, but it was a battle with the undead. And they had aided distraught villagers. More than anything that was what was important, he reminded himself. As her fingers brushed his cut, he looked away and to his credit, didn't grimace. He knew she'd probably need him to remain still.

As the sounds of battle had faded, they heard a knock on the wall and a muted voice from outside.

"Oi, you lot still alive or wot!?"

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

To any of her troops, and even the brigands that excelled at stealth tactics, Camilla's footfalls would have been undetectable. Her riding boots stepped softly along the moist ground, missing every leaf that might cackle, and barely brushing the passing shrubbery or twigs that swayed in the cool night breeze. Her destination lay at the top of the forested rise, and even as she moved, she drew her sword without a whisper of a sound.

Her next few steps led her to the top of the climb, though she still hid in the leaves of a lowered tree canopy. Camilla's eyes pierced the gloom, but even still she couldn't see anyone. A part of her told herself to step forward again, and she was just about to move before she froze as if struck.

Something tickled her senses. Something was there in the wood, but she had no idea where it could be. A presence permeated the clearing, and what's more, she had the distinct feeling it was because whatever it was allowed it. If she had been the Elf's enemy, she would have been dead before her next heartbeat, and the cold sensation of steel at the base of her spine caused her to squawk, as she used to do with Cyrdic. The very noise constricted her heart at the thought of him.

"You have good instincts." the Elf said, interrupting her grief, and it took her a moment to realize he was not speaking any human tongue. When she turned, he would be gone. Instead, somehow he was now behind her once more. It irked her that he could move so effortlessly, and with a simple leap that spun her thrice through the air, she landed nimbly before him, standing face to face, her blade point near his chest. If he was worried, he gave no sign. "You hold the blade made by my kin across the water. Perhaps you are suitable enough to help save this land."

"What do you want?" she demanded of him, choosing now not to be the time to question how she understood Elven.

"Your pride is wounded." He stated, rather than asked. "Do not fret, even others of my kind cannot track me, save other WayWatchers. I am Aldaerion, and what I want is what you want. To see this land survive the coming threat. You would be the only human that would likely listen to me." He spoke without the haughtiness of the High Elves she had met in Kislev. Either the Elves of Athel Loren were less proud of a race (doubtful), or this one had spent far too long in solitude to retain the habits of his other kin.

"Stop speaking in riddles. Tell me what you came to tell me."

He nodded, accepting the simple logic. "The Red Duke rises."

Camilla shook her head, the image of the Ghastly form dispersed within the Fortress of D'Epee fresh in her mind. It was the last thing she remembered before Cyrdic had been lost. "No, we killed him."

"We?" The Elf asked, and at Camilla's grimace, he decided it was best not to broach the subject. "When exactly did you do this?"

"Four full moon's ago." she replied, having the counted the days since her self imposed exile and her campaign to aid the peasants of the land. The Undead attacks had grown ever since she and Beaumont had left the Fortress, harrying villages and killing passing merchants. "We killed his bride, and he was banished by the sorcery that bound them together. I saw his spirit flee."

After a moment of consideration by Aldaerion, the Elf looked at her directly. "You did not kill him." he told her, in no uncertain terms. "You released him."

---

It was a really strange turn of events to Cyrdic's point of view. That the mage would be treated better than the soldier, in Bretonnia of all Sigmar-forsaken places. They had been taken to the castle of the Baron D'Elbiq, which was simply a glorified keep with a small walled community, that overlooked the closest wood and marshland to the northeast, just between it and the Forest of Chalons that covered the horizon.

They had been chained and nearly dragged by the horses, or at least Cyrdic had. Hermman was small enough to be tossed over the back of one like a towel, but Cyrdic's bulk kept him from sharing a steed with another rider so he had to keep up with their trot. To the surprise of the Yeomen, Cyrdic did without complaint, further causing them to fear him for some pagan cursed beast from Athel Lore or the Grey Mountains.

Once they made it to the Baron's Castle, they were both shoved before the Baron, a stately man with a pointed nose and an overbearing mouth, who gaped at Cyrdic. The Knights present had drawn swords, and exclaimed to themselves in their tongue. "Throw this...this thing in the dungeons!" he cried, and Cyrdic was pulled away. Briefly he thought of struggling, particularly after he was kneed in the stomach for simply looking back at Hermman who now stood what looked like a 'trial' before the Baron, but he felt it wouldn't be right.

These were fighting men, doing what they had to with some Herculean son of Ulric they had found poaching in the woods. He had been in the wrong, so he would tough it out and take what they threw at him. What did it matter? The Knight pulling his chains stopped at the furthest jailed door in the lowest dungeon, probably a dozen paces below ground level. Cyrdic spoke up for the first time. "What's to happen to me?" he said in Reikspeil.

"Silencieux, la bête!" he ordered.

"Je suis un... soldat? Comme toi" he said to him, giving the Knight pause. He couldn't read the Cavalier's reaction, as he still bore his helmet. But after a moment, he called for the gailor to open the cell and looked at Cyrdic through his visor. "Par...your honeur?" he asked, indicating Cyrdic's chains. Cyrdic realized what the man was asking, and Cyrdic nodded. Truth be told, he could probably break out of them as soon as he entered the jail, but he wished to gain a measure of trust with the Knight, and once he unlocked his chains, Cyrdic obediently entered the jail cell.

It was somewhat roomy, considering. But there was no cot. Simply a small space to sit, and a bail of hay at the corner. The door closed noisily. "Quand la madam fille arrivera, vous serez jugé." he told the Ostlander, and left him there alone, with no word on Hermman or what his punishment was to be...
@Penny

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

"Well...this was fun." Neil said without spirit, looking vacantly out into the desert sands. It stretched as far as the eye could see, and without batting an eye. He seemed to have lost his spirit, and it was further evident when he was almost violently grabbed by Saxon by the neck, lifting him up seemingly into the sun. Neil didn't bat an eye other than looking somewhat surprised at the sudden 'attack.'

"Wait, stop! What are you doing?" Taya asked, trying to move across a small rise in the sand to get to Saxon, though she didn't know what she would do if it came down to it. Saxon and Neil didn't acknowledge her. Saxon pulled Neil down face to face with him, his bestial breath filled Neil's senses.

"As usual, all of this is because of you. I wouldn't doubt if I killed you here and now, our fortunes would improve."

"You're probably right." Neil said, clearing his throat. He knew Saxon could simply squeeze and pop his head clean off. He wondered what Junebug and Taya would do, though he guessed it didn't matter. He'd be too dead to see or care. He almost felt that way now, truth be told. He'd saved their lives, but they wouldn't have been out here in the first place if it wasn't for Neil. He got Sven to get them into this wild goose chase and now they were in a desert of unknown size and dangers. "Hey, when you kill me can you be sure to drink my blood to stay hydrated?"

"Put my pilot down." Junebug told Saxon, placing another clip in the receiver of her gun and aiming it his way. Saxon looked like a crocodillian then, eyes almost emotionless, yet somehow you could tell it sought to attack at any moment. Neil's voice spoke up next. "Aim for the lower back, just above the hindquarters. He's less armored there." Saxon's teeth gritted, and he shook Neil, silencing him. Still, after a few brief moments, he tossed Neil to the ground and shrugged his shoulders, though the move was an alien way of stretching the excess energy he had left in his system.

Neil hit the ground and blinked, his eyes stinging from the sand and the intense light that beat down on them. What did they have, one gallon of water left, between the four of them? Taya fell to her knees in relief. "Thank the stars." she said, sinking into the sand as if she was sinking beneath waves. Behind her, Neil lifted his head from the sand.

"How long is the day cycle on this planet?" he asked.

They all look at him. Well, Sayeeda and Taya did. Neil remembered on his own when they had flown in. 34 hours. "Wait no, what direction did we move in from Caneks?"

"Southwest." Junebug said.

"Once the stars are out, we can make it back." he said, as if he had just received a revelation.

"How would that work? We don't know this planet's constellations, Neil." Taya replied, shaking her head. Neil's look buttoned her lip.

"I do, though." he said, tapping his head.

"Why not, we have nothing else we can fucking do." Junebug said, falling onto her back in the sand and covering her eyes with her forearms. "But even if we get our bearings, we'll probably still die."

Hours later, the sun had dipped below the horizon agonizingly slow. Neil did his best not to watch it set. He needed his eyes good for the constellations. Saxon had taken residence in a smaller dune of sand about a dozen paces from them, having basked in the sun like any cold-blooded creature would. Taya and Junebug sipped their canteens fleetingly, talking to each other. Or, Taya talked and Junebug replied with the odd curse or slur, or gave a violent anecdote that had Taya skipping to different topics so she wouldn't need to dwell on it.

The sky lit up with stars almost as soon as the Sun had disappeared, and just as Neil had thought, they were as bright in the desert as they ever would be, no matter the planet one was on. He saw the two headed serpent, Zahhak to the left, and just below it was the strong man, Enkidu, bare chested and wild haired. But of course, right of them was Jawzarh, the largest and brightest collection of stars that formed a great dragon. He still had no idea how such information was in his head, but he wasn't going to question it.

"I know where we're going." He said, triumphantly. The sense of elation was pure ecstasy. Maybe they could make it out of this shit hole. They might not have the money to make it off world, but Neil had done shady things in the past to get what he needed. He knew they could figure something out once they made it back to civilization.

They walked all night where Neil indicated north, knowing they would come by a bedouin path at some point. Travelers riding the strange beasts they had seen in town, But when the sun rose again, they had no found a thing. Junebug did well keeping people moving, joking with Neil and reassuring Taya. Saxon moved without complaint or slowing, but he refused when Neil and Junebug asked him to let Taya ride on his shoulders.

Another night and day passed, and they still had found nothing. No shelter, or sign of passage. Saxon began to mutter that Neil had no idea where they were going, but the others knew better logically. They had gone southwest via transport, moving many kilometers an hour and had gone for several days. They had far too many miles to think about between them and the town, but still, they should have come by a sign of some habitation, and the lack of food and water had everyone on edge.
@Penny

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

Ok everyone, that is another 10 days posting schedule that only one person managed to make. Fetzen and BC are good bc they explained their reason for tardiness, but I am thinking I'm going to need to start meting out in-character punishments again or just extend the posting time to once every fortnight maybe...

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

I said my post would be up soon but it's been 6 days...

@The Fated Fallen

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

"Your life sounds very much like a Detlef Sierck Melodrama if I am being completely honest, only...far more violent than he would usually write. Even your noble beauty seems to kill droves of beastmen and chaos worshippers." Hermman the Wizard said, smoking his pipe under a gnarled tree as the fire crackled before him, lengthening the shadows of his studied face.

Cyrdic grunted, not blaming the man for finding his past adventures hard to believe. He sounded ridiculous to himself when he spoke it aloud. But he also could not help but grin at Hermman's comment on Camilla. "Just because she is a beautiful woman does not mean she isn't dangerous." he said to him, biting into the venison sausage.

The deer they'd hunted had by Brettonian law belonged to Baron D'Elbiq. But he was apparently too busy fueding with Baron Du Maisne and fighting the occasional Derelich that inhabited the rare ruin around the abandoned holdfasts of ancient Aquitaine. Cyrdic had always liked Venison more than most meats. He knew how to follow as much as lead, but he couldn't understand a land where even the animals belonged to the gentry.

"In my experience my boy, most beautiful women are." Hermman replied, giving a ghost of a smile as if remembering a painful but fond memory.

Cyrdic was too focused on his meal, even taking the bits of it that had bone in it. The cracking of the bone with his teeth was satisfying, even pleasurable. He suddenly found bone marrow almost as appetizing as the meat itself, and his ravenous hunger was untenable. Hermman was lost in thought for a few moments too long, and he would curse himself a moment later when a sword glinted in the firelight, the point of it reaching the Wizard's slim neck.

"You are under arrest for trespassing on the Baron's road," a man said in broken Reikspiel. It seemed whoeever spoke it could already tell they were foreigners. "and poaching upon his land."

A powerful man with an even more impressive mustache stepped out of the woods, hood over his head. More Yeomen stepped out of the woods, and Cyrdic was more appalled at himself being too hungry to even smell their obvious scent than surprised they were there, or in fear of his life. Hermman lowered his pipe, smiling guiltily. "Well, Captain, what is to be our punishment. I know the Constable of Bordeleaux, you know. If you hang me or my ward, he will see to it y-"

"Silence, knave. Or are you a warlock? The Baron D'Elbiq will decide your fate at the Castle."

Hermman sighed, and looked at Cyrdic apologetically. "Well my boy, at least we'll be sleeping indoors tonight."

---

Aldaerion's gaze pierced leaf and bark, traveling over the low hills of Aquitaine with sight beyond what any human could experience. The armored apes of the land, in their primitive and brutish ways did safeguard it better than most denizens of Athel Loren would admit. Beastman and Orc would ravage the land, but would be thrown back time and again over the course of many human lifetimes, and even the span of a few Elven ones. But this was different.

The power rising in the forest of Chalons was an old one. One that the Asrai had not seen for a long time. They would weather out the storm within Athel Loren, but as for the humans of Brettonia? Perhaps they would prevail again. But the Waywatcher doubted it. Aldaerion had seen the power of lone necromancers before, when they soiled the ancient cairns of the Wood Elves.

What could one of such ancient power wield, in a land rife with feuds and ancient dead?
@Penny