POOHEAD189

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

He gave a mischievous grin, moving a thick fringe of dark hair out of his ways from her hands having ruffled it. "Are you kidding? You look born to it. Me? I'd be labeled a stowaway in a minute." After he said so, he thought for a second. "You know, they likely wouldn't be wrong."

"The thought crossed my mind..." Emmaline wrinkled her nose, but they found they couldn't stay apart for much longer and within seconds they began to kiss again as if they would drown without one another's tongues in their mouth. The carpet and Emmaline's animated snake sat a few meters away, the former somehow rolling its eyes without eyes to roll and the snake shrugging its vestigle hood. The two scoundrels didn't notice, the clothing they had found so appealing earlier now seemed unimportant as Amal's hand slid within Emmaline's pants to grip her bare rump as her back arched.

Amal was famished for her, but in the midst of his lower self standing on end, there came an awful smell. The two were even reluctant to pull apart then, but it grew so overbearing they stopped kissing. Amal looked confused and sniffed the air again, and Emmaline sat back up and held her nose.

"It wasn't me." She insisted. He wasn't thinking that. No human could make that smell, in the dark there came a chittering as twigs began to break and leaves began to bend and flap. The two turned to see a multitude of eyes dotting the treeline, beady and reflecting the light of the moons. There had to have been two dozen of whatever they were. As horny as he still was, Amal's honed instincts for survival kicked in and he pulled Emmaline to her feet and moved her back, shoving the sword sword in her hands. It was lucky they weren't unclothed this time.

"Man-things!" Something squeaked.

"What do?"

"Kill kill. Quick quick!"

"Five days," Amal whispered under his breath. For five days he had been waiting to have sex with his new lover, and this happens now? Was Settra's curse still upon him!? He would have claimed it was so when twenty rats that walked like men leaped out of the tree line. A few even squeezed through the thick wall of trees they had been kissing beside. Emmaline gasped, eyes wide in disbelief at the sight of what Amal knew was the dreaded Skaven.

He had never seen one before, but they weren't considered a mere myth in the lands of Araby. Simply another horror of the world, even if they were uncommon at the most numerous of times. Tunneling beneath desert was risky business, he had been told. It seems the wisemen had been right about many things. He wished he had listened more when he was a child. Their stench had never been mentioned, however. Considering how bad it was, it was a glaring oversight. The ratmen were armed with tiny daggers or shoddily made but cruel tipped spears.

"Face my blades." Amal said, flourishing the daggers. Outnumbered 10 to 1, he was far too pissed that his night with Emmaline was interrupted to truly care. "Come! I've not eaten rat in months!" He cried menacingly, being his usual uncouth self in his honesty.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Amal's belly filled with food and water, for the first time in near a week he felt comfortable. Even in this strange land, where the night fell late and the air felt strange and humid. He had taken all three weapons to carry over to the area they had chosen for camp. Behind them the trees were thick and hard to navigate through, even for Amal, so an attack from there would be unlikely. In front of them was the wide open ocean, and the twin moons of the world stood tall, bearing their reflections down on the soft waves that slid over the sand with a calming rhythm.

As Emmaline had been reading the Brettonian letters, Amal had initially been throwing a roughly circular rock towards the sea, watching to see if the carpet could catch it before the stone hit the water. It managed to whisk away the stone close to a dozen times before it wasn't swift enough, the water 'plunking' into the surf as the carpet spasmed in a fit. It zipped over and huffed, flattening on the ground on the other side of the fire.

"Come now, it happens to everyone." Amal said, but it was unwilling to perk up again except for a perfunctory wave from its fluffed arms.

After that, Amal had examined the daggers. Some weapons were jeweled because they were mere ornament pieces, but he knew blades well. These daggers were sharp and combat ready, the blades being a hand and a half tall by his reckoning, two hands tall by Emmaline's he guessed. The short sword was nearly twice that length, though it didn't look as finely crafted. It would do in a pinch, made from good steel and likely castle crafted. Setting the sword down, the thief lay back, head resting upon the log as he took a small piece of driftwood and used one of the daggers to idly carve its length.

Perhaps it was because he missed home, or perhaps because he couldn't take his mind off of Settra's curse that stranded them here, but he began to carve a Sphynx. Deftly maneuvering the knife along the soft wood, a rough shape began to form as the minutes passed. Despite his lack of education, he was skilled in more ways than looting and violence, with a quick mind and an attention to detail. He wondered if this was how the elders felt when they had retired from their duties. To sit by a fire calmly and whittle away at something trivial but fulfilling to give the long hours meaning.

These musings flew away when Emmaline turned and leaned against him, her book closed and her fingers walking along his bare chest. Amal's eyes ran along her jawline and her lips, immediately feeling a stirring below the belt. He leaned in to kiss her, only to stop and perk up, looking back behind them like a hound. He had heard nothing, but he needed to make sure. Long years alert told him to check, but also the fact that the boat collapsed last time before they could cuddle irked him.

A long moment passed before he relaxed his posture again, not giving Emmaline time to question it.

"One another," He answered, cupping her chin and kissing her greedily, having been nearly as famished sexually as he had been in other areas.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Amal and Emmaline ate together, but once the two had their quick fill of the strange edible, Amal decided they needed some more. With a slight modicum of his strength back, he decided to be an enterprising man and searched the beach until he found a particularly sharp rock. It made him lament losing his favored dagger in the wreck of the El Cargador, but it was no use dwelling on it now. The stone was weighty in the hand but fairly jagged, and he used it to poke into the next hard shelled treat until it was then pried open, and he and Emmaline ate some more until they felt the bottomless pits of their stomachs had grown slightly less chasmic.

Satisfied, with their asses coated in sand, the two made their way over to the wreckage of mottled wood that stood as a ruin along the beach. It was an old ship by the looks of it, but not ancient. If Amal had to guess, it was a Brettonian vessel judging by the writing on its side and the coloring of the outer planks. He had never left the Southlands, but he had seen many ships in his time. Before they looked, they both waded into the sea for a moment to clean themselves of the rocks and sand that caked their skin.

"Let's find some clothes," Emmaline said tiredly, lifting out of the ocean in water that tickled her hips. "If the Gods are merciful there will be some."

Amal grabbed her hand, and she turned to see him with a glint in his eye. "I agree, but since we have some of our strength back..." His eyes explored her body, and she snorted when her mind caught up to her.

"I think survival and then fun is the most responsible course of action, even a risk taker like you can appreciate that." Despite her words, she gave a little extra sway of her hips as she stepped out of the water. Amal couldn't help but grin, despite his disappointment. The two stepped out and found themselves under the torn canopy of a fallen mast, long years and constant exposure to bugs and the elements giving it window-like holes where the beating sun pierced into the sand.

Amal was afraid to press to hard on any of the fragile wooden structure that rose out of the sand, lest it all fall atop them. There were two chests that lay covered in sand with crags scuttling across them, and fallen cupboards sat prone besides skeletons of unfortunate lost souls. Emmaline could not sense anything magical in the area, though Lustria had a strange polymetric quality to how the winds of magic flowed, as if there were intensely powerful magics further inland like the astronomers described the fabled 'black holes' in space, with density greater than suns that drew all matter around it. It was faint, however, and unimportant next to her find of relatively clean (save a few cobwebs) set of clothes inside one of the cupboards.

Within minutes, Amal and Emmaline looked like two deckhands, brown breeches and lowcut, unimpressive cotton tops that had a simply string at the neckline to tie up and cover their chests. Their boots were hardened, having been wetted and dried numerous times throughout the years, but they were certainly better than nothing.

After days in the merciless sun, even Amal felt clothing on his body was welcoming feeling. Emmaline practically squee'd in glee, eyes brightened and hands shaking. The Arabyan thought if she had more strength back she would be leaping. As she spun to tell Amal how grateful she was, the sorceress saw Amal holding an aureate tricone hat with an extravagant plum atop it. It was so large it looked nearly ridiculous. With a light humor, he placed it atop Emmaline's head and gave an equally extortionate bow.

"Yoeu look sew a-beautiful, mademoiselle." He performed in his modestly bad Brettonian accent. "Now if you will ekesxuseme, I will check if zese chests 'ave any eh-treasure."
@Penny

Cinnabar Forever! (RCN)

Despite the previous night's activities, Kaiden had managed to make it back to the ship in a timely fashion and collapse on the bed. Waking up was far less graceful, but after a good shower and the usual hangover routine, he dressed accordingly and made it out on deck at 0545. As he was new to the vessel, he immediately reported to Micha to see where the Captain would need him.

Micha was at the bridge when Kaiden approached him, the Captain giving a smile at the approaching Lieutenant. "I see you're up and at 'em, Lieutenant. I hope you found last night enlightening and morale boosting." His manner was jovial and Kaiden couldn't help but give a smile despite the headache. "I had a bit too much, but I certainly felt the pride of Cinnabar in me as well as the alcohol. Shall I go oversee the men?"

"Yes, do. And when you're finished, get Lieutenant Hickoring as well. I'd like reports from both of you to make certain we're good to launch. I-" His mouth snapped shut when he received an incoming personal transmission in his earpiece, and he blinked, laughing in incredulity. "Lieutenant... did you invite a bloody reporter onto the ship?" He looked not entirely displeased, but completely flabbergasted. He actually looked impressed. "You do get around, don't you?"

For his part, Kaiden looked completely confused. Yes he remembered offering it to Tilda, but he told her to decide before he returned, and he also did not expect her to say yes! Well, he couldn't exactly go back on his word if she had decided, but if she was here to simply make a scene he would drop her like a spent magazine.

It was less than a minute later when Kaiden met Tilda Savari making her merry way up the gangplank. She looked just as attractive when Kaiden was sober, which was very impressive. She had on workmans trousers that hugged her hips and a black top with a keyhole neckline, her hair bound in a bun of very meticulously tied curls. "Well, I'm ready for my debut." She said, but Kaiden didn't exactly show his approval just yet.

"You're not going to convince me that you quit your job overnight and decided to throw it all away because of my wit and charm." He challenged, his face set like granite with his arms crossed.

"Well, not only that. The money helped too." She said without skipping a beat. "So, can we go now or are you going to stare at me until we cast off?"

After a moment's hesitation, Kaiden pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're right. We could very well use your help, Ms. Savari." He conceded, and then tossed her a bag which she caught awkwardly, her casually attractive face now mixed with surprise at the sudden turn. Kaiden grinned. "You can wash my clothing first, and I expect it all pressed as well. I have an image to maintain. Meet me on the bridge at 0630."

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

Hot and heavy

The Sunday Group - Bumps in the Night

@Penny Airborne I say

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Amal had needed a vacation away from Araby, but this wasn't exactly what he had in mind. His muscles ached and he still felt every breath was precious despite being well above the water. The carpet landed beside him, and while it was still clearly a threaded cloth, he knew it would likely be as miffed as Emmaline's serpent if he or she were to use it to cover their genitals. Luckily, he had not dreamed; only faded in and out of consciousness as the waves roiled around him.

"Usually that doesn't happen when I'm with a woman," He replied, trying his best to smile and keep their spirits up. He never thought seeing a naked Emmaline wouldn't immediately make him speechless, but this was extenuating circumstances even if she did look ravishing sitting atop the wood. It was at that moment his stomach grumbled angrily and he realized he had spent the time he could have been eating with Emmaline. The thief shrugged. "Worth it."

"Hmmm?"

He shook his head. "I'm simply thinking. How long were we out?" He asked, but neither could rightly tell the answer. All night it seemed, and they had only been a few days at sea. The frigate was likely just beside Brettonia it collapsed, which even Amal had some inkling of the geography there. It did not explain why the sun even behind the clouds was beginning to become sweltering. He groaned and got to his feet, naked as the day he was born and looking around the horizon. He didn't know if it was the sun peeking out of the clouds that blotted his vision, or if there truly was no land in sight.

The sound of the gently bobbing water that buffeted the small raft beneath them was palpable and made him feel very alone, even with Emmaline and the magical items right here with them. He heard Settra's mad laughter in his mind, and a fire grew hot within him. The realization made him angry, and the hunger just drove him to rage even moreso. The Arabyan shook his fist in the air. "The next time I find you Settra, I will steal more than your crown!" He cried, his voice echoing across the water. "Do you hear me!?"

He plopped back on the wood, being all too aware of a few splinters on the underside of his legs. Placing his face in his hand, he sighed. "I guess we lost the jewels to the crown as well... fuck." Amal lay back on the wooden planks and looked up at the clouds. He had gotten out of dodgy situations before, but being stranded in the middle of the ocean with no food, water, shelter, or clothing was a new one. "I doubt our luck could get much better." He stated facetiously.

The water puddled atop the wooden planks for a moment, and the raft shook lightly from the wind. A wind that Amal did not feel, even on his bare groin that was, at the moment, the most verticle thing about him as he lay there. He blinked and raised himself up on his elbows, turning to see Emmaline clutching the serpent's mark on her chest, staring wide eyed past her new lover. Amal followed her eyes and saw a ridged, webbed crest upon a serpentine body sliding out of the water in a coil. Amal's breath was stolen from his body as he watched the flowing, huge serpentine body disappear with a flash of a forked tail.

"Allah preserve us," he whispered.

Another crest rose out of the waves, but this time it was beneath their small raft that looked dangerously fragile compared to this beast that was as wide as Amal and Emmaline side by side. The thief caught the briefest glance of Emmaline's tattoo, and it looked as if it was writhing before both of them had to hold on for life as the raft was suddenly yanked across the water like a whip. Even the carpet uncoiled and held onto the slits in the plankings.

The raft went back and forth in great sloshes of water, threatening to toss them into the depths. But after a minute Amal glanced at the sky and realized they were head generally west. Not that they weren't going to be pulled under the water and devoured at any moment.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Map of Lustria

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Meanwhile, another crewmember swung at Amal and managed to give a glancing blow to his shoulder. The cutthroat spun with it and kicked out, cracking the man's knee with a well aimed heel. Roughly, he grabbed the man's shirt, pulling his face into Amal's elbow, breaking his nose and sending him unconscious into the ground. Amal leaped over him, grabbing the fallen dagger from the ground. Thoughts of protecting Settra's jewels were overridden by fear over Emmaline. It figured, just as he had found the riches of a lifetime, he found a girl he cared for even more.

"Guard the stash!" He yelled, and to the last crewmember that was running away from the crazed naked man it sounded even more insane. Truth be told he was talking to the magic carpet, which he heard beginning to rummage as he leaped up the stairs as quickly as his feet could carry him. He reversed the grip on his dagger as he ran, calling for Emmaline desperately as he ascended the stairway that ran with a small stream of water even now. He shoved a surprised crewman out of the way, sending him tumbling down the stairs with a cry. Soon Amal found his way on the foredeck, leaping out to slide along the rainslicked wood, in awe over the maelstrom of rain and wind that surrounded the ship in a deathly spiral.

To his horror, he saw the mainsail toppling with an echoing crack, and it slowly fell towards the crewman that was trying to throw Emmaline overboard. "No!" He screamed with more despair than he ever had since his mother had sold him into slavery, and he leaped with all of his strength. The mast was falling, a dozen meters away and moving what seemed to be two seconds away from crushing her and the crewman. Amal tossed his dagger just as the man reared Emmaline back to toss her overboard, eight inches of steel entering his back and stealing the breath from his body.

He couldn't make it with the jump. The length was just too far. So instead he landed on his knees and slid along the wood, catching Emmaline's falling form to slide just out of the mast's path. Skidding to a halt, Amal held her protectively, moving her hair to see if she was harmed at all. "You think you can get away from me that easily?" He asked, his words filled with true concern. The wood under them began to splinter, and the men who had not fallen overboard were now praying to their gods or being buffeted against the walls from the waves that leaped onto the deck as tentacles from a malevolent monster. The light of the clouded sky was suddenly blotted out as a wave more monstrous than any previous rose up before them. Holding her legs and back with as much care as he could, Amal knew what he had to do.

He slid his hand into her hair and kissed her passionately as all turned to darkness.
@Penny

The Sunday Group - Bumps in the Night

I mean, it certainly fits