POOHEAD189

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

This next week I am moving us along, so get your posts in before I do!

Damned to the Depths

What seemed to have dragged on for a day lasted but a few minutes. The crew of the Weather Witch held their ground despite being outnumbered and surrounded. Later the Captain believed it was out of surprise and lack of cohesion from the enemy, due to the prison break in the midst of their triumph. Perhaps if Markus had lost, or even took another minute to slay Mahal, his crew would have been slaughtered.

Little did he know that Calliope had no small part in that victory. Though he expected just as much. He hadn't seen her, but he knew she was far too unpredictable and dangerous to be among the corpses. The new crew member Reginel had a nasty wound on his shoulder, and one of the triplets had a gash upon his head. But there had been no true casualties. That impressive fact, coupled with the grisly death of the Blood Axe leader had led most of the corsairs to fall on their knees in surrender.

Those that hadn't had either been stabbed in the back by their allies or they had fled into the twisting cavern system of the vast rock they found themselves in. At Markus' orders, Halvar and Sron had gone off to slay any they found, unless they surrendered themselves immediately. He wouldn't lose potential crew members due to a misunderstanding. For Jim's part, he had made it to Sketti and had given him Calliope's orders, and he had sent Jax back to the Weather Witch along with the wounded to keep it under guard.

When Calliope stepped out of the shadows, she would see the majority of the occupants of the cavern were dozens of meters up in the 'throne room,' but she found herself face to face with Sketti, who was ordering some of the men to check the Blood Axe ships for loot and hidden foes. The mad Dwarf did a double take when she walked out naked and covered in blood.

"Somehow I am not surprised!" He said finally, giving a small bark of a laugh as he shook his shaggy head. He pointed his brass stump at some of the loot, where some brown breeches and boyarina's travel top and accompanying jacket was presented. "Ye can put that on, or walk the stairs naked and get back yer sorceress attire. Either way you'll be going up stairs if you're looking for the captain."

With that he went back to work and dismissed her, needing to keep an eye on everything. They might have won but as far as the Dwarf engineer was concerned, they were still in the belly of the beast and any good Quartermaster didn't relax until the mead was poured. The First Mate still needed to regain her Sarong regardless. Once Calliope was sufficiently dressed and she ascended, she would find the Chieftan's Chamber filled with knelt Blood Axe Corsairs.

At the center of the backwall, atop the throne of skulls and ivory sat Markus, fine chin resting on a fist as each man approached and recanted an oath of loyalty to him. The Captain's visage was as deadly as his sword, and he heard each litany without emotion, save a measure of his gaze. Upon his shoulders were impressive pauldrons of a praelian lorica segmentum armor, and a black cloak he was told Mahal only wore on special occasions.

When Calliope entered, Markus betrayed his grim visage with a smirk. It might have been a grin but he likely didn't wish to appear soft, and he gestured for her to come forward.

WoT: The Dark One's Own Luck.

Alidren Baldyr's lips parted in awe as he gazed at the biggest town he had ever seen. A city! Bigger even than Terran's Ferry. No, it was a hundred times larger than Terran's Ferry! His da had been right, "with docks as far as the eye can see and marshes that can swallow the world." Ali had thought he was exaggerating, but the breadth of the settlement before him now was hard to fathom. At last he said. "I had no idea men could build such things..."

"Well," The merchant Royce said, pulling at the sack of goods on his back. "If you can believe the tales, it was build over the old Dorelle Caromon city, much as it is said Caemlyn was built by the Ogier. But no one really believes that. Such beasts never existed." He was an older man covered in a blue wool coat and brown leathers. He, along with his small caravan of like minded sellers and peddlars had run across Ali and Mave a scant few days ago on the road after they had jumped ship from Remen. Royce took off his wide brimmed hat and wiped the sweat from his balding head.

Ali glanced at the merchant. "Ogier exist. I've seen them."

Royce snorted, and he smiled, showing his poorly maintained teeth. "Ha! That's a good one boy. Let me guess, you've been hunted by Trollocs too and have been on the run, eh? Come now, young master. I wouldn't be saying such stories in the city. All manner of queer folk'll want to take advantage of you, or worse, they'll believe you. You don't want that kind of attention. Anymore than those eyes of yours will get. Nor would you want it for your lady friend either, I tell you."

The tall young man's face reddened at the insinuation, and he turned his head back to see the Aes Sedai at the rear of the group, walking with another woman and laughing. It had been a fortnite since they had stumbled upon the steading, and they had spent four days with the Ogier and over a week on the ship, and three days on the road, skulking and hiding when they could. They had little time to talk alone in the Steading, and even less time to truly speak as they traveled, other than what direction they should go and when they should hide. On the ship there had always been elbows and sweaty shoulders pressed between them. It had been fine days with the sights, but miserable nights.

He wondered if she had been to Illian before. It was where she had been trying to go since they had met. He still fancied her, but he wondered if her feelings had changed. Once they were in the city, would she abandon him? Light, he wouldn't blame her. He'd felt a bumbling fool the entire time they had known one another.

But looking back at the huge city, with the lower, outer town with buildings twice as tall as any in Edmon's Field, and further in where they grew exponentially in size. He wouldn't know where to go. Particularly if she left. He'd be hunted by Darkfriends and hiding among the crowds before he could maybe go light knows where. Camelyn?

Suddenly he jerked and looked around, eyes widened in fear. The quick movement startled the shorter merchant. Royce backed up a step, hands in the air. "Hold young master, what's wrong?" he asked, confused. The Maroon eyed youth looked behind him and in front, swearing he had heard what he thought. It was the same thing the past week. Something no matter where he traveled, he couldn't get away from. As if the Dark One himself haunted him.

"Did you hear that?" Ali asked breathlessly, a cold sweat brimming on his temple.

Royce placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder, looking at him cautiously but trying to smile. "Boy, you need to relax. There's nothing here."

Ali knew he was wrong. He had heard the mad laughter, and the whispers of a nameless fear in what had to be the recesses of his mind.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Amal nearly fell over himself. He was as tired as he could be, his heart still racing. But he felt like keeling over with surprise more than his fading fatigue. The Arabyan man couldn't understand how she had done it, but the guardians were no more, save for a few crawling, disembodied arms. He recalled the times in his life when he had gotten out of the most insane situations. On when he had caused the most trouble. This woman had surpassed him in those endeavors in the matter of barely two weeks.

"This is the woman I will marry," He realized, whispering to himself.

Reality came rushing back when he saw her collapse, and he moved quickly, leaping and sliding across the grass to catch her before she planted face first into the ground. The Cobra Staff clanged hollow against the dirt next to them, and to his relief it did not transform into the serpent. Gently, he pulled her back up and set the back of her head to rest on his lap, ripping off a bit of his vest and wiping the blood from her nose.

"Now, I've saved your life..." He looked up at the sky as he began to calculate. He remembered their meeting, the slavers, and a few other instances. He smiled and looked back down at her. "Let us say five times. You are catching up though. Not one to be outdone, yes?" There was a 'pop' as he opened his water jug, and she looked conscious enough to drink. He pressed it to her lips and she sipped gingerly, taking it away after a few moment. "At this rate I'm going to start owing you, and you don't look like one who I'd be comfortable with being in debt to."

He saw her stirring, and he finally decided to see if her head had stopped spinning. "Come on." He breathed, helping her sit up, albeit very slowly. "We cannot-"

His words died in his throat when he looked around and realized they were no longer in an oasis. He felt the weight of his rump and feet slowly sinking into sand that was one fertile ground, and even the buildings and guardians had fled. All save the skull of the Patriarch that had chased them. It sat not two meters away, gazing at them with blue witchlight eyes, it's elaborate headdress still atop the skull.

Amal gazed at the skull, raising an eyebrow, annoyed at the turn of events and scenery. Even with him being glad he saw the Carpet sway into view as it lazily flew over from a far sand dune, Amal still didn't feel comfortable finding himself in the middle of nowhere again. As their gazes met, and Amal could tell there was the same intelligence there as earlier, the thief finally spoke up, raising a fist threateningly.

"If you do not tell me what it is you want, I will dig until my fingers are but bone and bury you in the sand to be lost to time, you worthless skull." He warned.

HEED MY WORDS. The skull said, his voice echoing in both of their minds. The Skull's mouth opened as it mentally spoke. FIVE THOUSAND YEARS HAVE PASSED SINCE SETTRA THE IMPERISHABLE HAS PLACED ME HERE TO GUARD THE ENTRANCE TO BEL-ALIAD. MY TIME IS DONE, AS IT WAS FORETOLD BY ASAPH HERSELF. YOU MAY ENTER, BUT WARE THE DANGERS WITHIN. THE MAGICS BOTH WONDERFUL AND TERRIBLE WILL BE GUARDED BY MORE TERRIBLE FOES THAN I.

As the thing spoke, Amal noticed something. He shifted his vision, looking past the skull to what he had first believed were distant dunes and mountain peaks. Swiftly, he began to understand that over the next dune, what lay before them were the ruins of a city more huge and terrible than any he had ever delved into before.
@Penny

Warhammer Fantasy: From Small Beginnings...

Judging by the RP, I would have guessed we were fighting a contingent of renegade Johans

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

@Bazmund hmmmm...I will allow it.

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

All these awesome posts!!

Warhammer Fantasy: From Small Beginnings...

He had heard tell the men of the Empire enjoyed the rain. That the soft pitter patter atop the roof and on the windows was soothing to them and lulled children and adults alike to sleep. Burundi envied their small minds, as he couldn't find the enjoyment in hearing water fall from the bloody sky. Whenever something fell from above in a Karak, it was something to steer clear of, not comfort you! Even he, being a Dwarf from Barak Varr and used to hearing the ocean.

He had given the new Johan his equipment, keeping a small sack of supplies to himself. It was where he kept his storage of Gal he had collected over the past seven years as well. Waddling up the stairs like an ornery bulldog, he almost raced to his room so he could better count the number of coins he had again. That quick shot of Vodka had tempered him, but with all of this racket outside he needed to see his gold to fully calm his spirits.

So in a hurry was he that he nearly bumped into female manling that had just stalked out of one of the rooms, adjusting the strap on her revealing dress. Typical Umgi physique, lacking both the plumpness of breast and the rotund hips of a true woman. Her eyes widened when the Dwarf came down the hall in a low run, his hand pushing her aside. "Out of my way, flesh merchant!" He cried, and he heard her squeal and tumble back into the room she had just left when he was closing his own door. The muted argument that ensued in the hall was drowned out by the Dawi's desire of that most precious material.

Normally he wasn't that abrasive even to the Umgi, but what was known as the Gold fever had overtaken him. Carefully, he undid the thong on his small sack and pushed a chair forward, stomping over it and hopping up without grace to pour the Gold and Silver atop the weathered wood of the desk. It clinked enchantingly with weighted thuds, and he spread the coins out to count them exactly. Tonight he had spent one from his separate stash, but these were his 20%. These he would bring back to the hold to laud amongst his family.

"Gal... Galaz... Bryn," He muttered, meticulously counting every peice while reciting a different word for Gold in Khazalid each time. For the next few hours he would be at this task, recounting them all a dozen times, and with the silver he recounted six times. In the morning he would remember knocks on his door, and a Brettonian woman speaking of 'complaints' from outside. But he could not hear her in the throes of his earnings, until he had regained sense of himself and decided it was time for rest.

He decided to go to sleep by counting the gold another time.

By morning, Burundi Malgrimsson was downstairs at dawn, having eaten a breakfast of sausage and beer. Within minutes he was at the townhouse, standing there punctually with a Dwarfish disciplined that would be the envy of even the Rieksgard. Unfortunately, he realized almost a minute late that he was standing at the rump of the townhouse, foolishly thinking the sturdiest part of the structure would be the front.

He cursed in Khazalid and all but sprinted around to the front, seeing the three men and the woman discussing the boy and what news Margueritte had gleaned out of him. He announced his arrival by saying. "Couldn't be Grobi we're dealing with then," he said, letting them measure his words. "They'll simply eat you or butcher you without care. They've no need for pens other than to house their foul wolfish mounts."

He spat a very solid looking blob of phlegm onto the ground for emphasis.

If there were any looks of disgust, he didn't seem to take notice. The Dwwarf gestured with his weapon, nodding forward. "We taking the dog too? It's bound to become a Kazak out there if we're to bark at anything that scuttles in the deep wood." He counseled, not taking into account his own lack of subtlety when traveling. "I'd argue against the Kvinn coming along, but she's done more work than the lot of us."

Post a random fact about yourself.

In a year or two I'll be moving (probably to Miama) to get closer to studios to help my acting/voice acting career.

Dungeon Clearer! The Wonderful World of an Adventurer

@pugbutterNo trolling please. I have received a complaint and must insist.