POOHEAD189

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Amal smiled brightly, eyes glinting. "Yes, exactly!" He said, and shifted a bit on the settee. "Why can we not be rich? We deserve it more than those entitled fools..." He recalled just how cutthroat he was and cleared his throat. "Well, you do at least. I think I deserve it more than some. I might stab a man but I will not throw him into servitude." He realized he was thinking aloud rather than actually conversing. Perhaps it was a bit of both.

Amal placed his strong hands behind his back and sat up, his thick hair a bit wild. He stretched, his strong arms prominently sculpted as he did so. Amal felt much better, after having eaten particularly. "But yes, we are rich, as weird as it is to say." He remarked, thinking back to his days in Al-Hiekk. Never in his life did he think he would have been in any such place as this as the owner (or renter). "There were times I would sneak into the palace and pretend I was rich. Forgetting for a moment who I was..."

He shook the thoughts away. Instead, he turned and grinned, reaching for Emmaline and sliding her on his lap. She giggled and the thief slid her hair to the left so his chin could rest to the right of her neck. "But it doesn't matter. Now we are rich, yes?" His arms held her by her waist, though not before he grabbed one of the bottles of wine. Judging by the merchant's rumor, the wine made in Delberz was very good indeed. He uncorked it with a dexterous movement of his thumb, smooth as silk. He took a swig of the bottle, feeling the sweetness of the liquid on his tongue and feeling the tingle of it sliding down his throat. The thief thought it was actually quite good, handing it to Emmaline next to enjoy. Pulling her closer, he kissed her neck. "What would the wealthy Emmaline like to do?" He asked, and kissed her neck once more. "We could go and see the town below...see what it has to offer...or perhaps we could make use of those silk sheets? I simply wish to be with you, my troublemaker." His pet name for her did not sound too out of place in Riekspiel.
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Amal practically inhaled the broth and bread, filling his stomach to his content. The Arabyan looked particularly dark and exotic wearing the white linen shirt he had bought. Rolled up sleeves, if she hadn't known him he would have looked like a foreign sailor having traveled inland to spend what wealth he had. He couldn't hide the small scars or the roving thief eyes, however. Even in their relative prosperity, he still thought of nabbing what he could. Old habits.

Amal cleaned his chin with one of the cloths Greta had brought, and released it onto the table. Casually, he spun and gently laid his head on Emmaline's lap, legs hanging over the side of the settee. He wondered about the big cities of the Empire and where their vaults were held. Perhaps once they ran out of sums they could go to one of these capitals and steal from under the head northerner or whomever there was. But that was just his imagination. For now, they should enjoy where they were. "I like it as well. Of course, I'm sure danger will follow. I think we have that quality about us." He said wistfully, playing with her hair that now draped beside him. He still marveled at just how smitten he was with her. "It's sexy on you though, don't worry."

He grinned viciously, the same grin he had before he made love to Emmaline or slashed the throat of someone who had wronged him. The former was far more likely, though someone could burst in at any moment he supposed and ruin their moment.

Recommend some music.

@Hyde What music do you like? It'll be hard if we don't know what you've already heard

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Amal watched Greta leave, though she gave the room one last look before closing the door behind her as if she expected mischief. 'She had no idea' was the phrase that came to mind, though Amal had nothing truly planned at the moment. Rather he merely wished to enjoy the moment. By the time the door closed, the next second the carpet was draped over the settee and Emmaline had already been scooped off her feet. She squeaked and Amal chuckled, holding her close in his arms.

"Well, we took a scenic route northwards. But we made it, Spring of my Heart." He declared. Even after all of their travels, he felt as if they had just began seeing one another. They kissed for a lingering moment, before he marched over to the mirror with her still in his arms. He smiled when she saw their reflection, clear delight on her face. "So, shall we stay here a few weeks? I don't know the country, but as long as no one tries to force us into servitude and we don't get hands chopped off for minor things, I think it is a fine vacation spot."

Emmaline's snake slithered off of her leg, having curled up around her thigh for the journey. It grooved off of her and nestled close to the unlit fireplace, gilding itself once more. It likely sensed Emmaline and Amal were once again getting rather physical with one another. But there was a knock on the door, and after two quick moments Greta waltzed in with the wine and their hearty stews. She found Emmaline on the settee, hair somewhat wavy and wild from Amal's quick movements whereas the 'Arabyan Merchant' seemed to be admiring himself in the mirror.

"The Oaks very finest!" She said, presenting the food only to have an incredulous look planted on her face a moment later. "Er, well..." She decided not to press the point, nor did she ask about the new snake circlet on the ground next to Amal's feet. "I hope you both enjoy. Where did you come from, again?"

"A long way away-" Amal said.

"Carroburg!" Emmaline piped in at the same time.

Greta blinked, but decided they had no reason to lie. "That is quite a ways! You must tell me of your travels tomorrow once you're rested. Ok so enjoy, and do let us know if you need anything ok? Oh! V-Very well I'll see you both later." Amal had already begun ushering her out, the smell of food causing his stomach to rumble like Settra's wrath.

"Thank you, and have a tip!" He called to her, flipping a full gold peice her way. She squealed and tried to catch it. Whether or not she did was lost on Amal as he'd already closed the door. "That smells almost as good as you look."
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Finding a money lender was difficult in the relatively modest town. Finding a few merchants among the various sellers upon the central road willing to give ludicrous sums of money for the golden trinkets and strange foreign coins they had accumulated. Of course they bought clothing first, eagerly provided by a traveling Ostlander merchant. He'd only been able to provide men's clothes, but it led them to both sport fine breeches and loose work-tops one could roll their sleeves up for. Their shoes were made well and sturdy as well.

By the time they were done, they had a small fortune in gold schillings, and they only kept a few of the items to keep as reminders and souvenirs. The gold they had was placed in a special leather bag they had bought, zipped up and unlockable only with a key that had been provided for them. The man who sold it to them seemed a sullen, dark sort. But that only led Amal to think he really knew what he was selling, plus the thief could simply pick the lock to get in if it truly came down to it himself.

Finally after an hour of bartering, the two weary travelers were pointed to the Great Oak Inn; a large three stories structure mastered by the Murmann family. It sported a huge imperial oak arbored to the front of the place, hence its name. Inside, Amal and Emmaline looked far less conspicuous, but Amal did stick out a bit for his skin tone, and Emmaline her beauty.

"Dev Murmann, how can I help you."

Amal hadn't known where to go, but at Emmaline's insistence he found the front desk, where a middle aged man, hairy on the arms, made it back from running some errand to speak to them. The booth he stood behind was well made with a display of charging horses carved just under the desk-top. Behind Amal and Emmaline, the common room was moderately full and with customers from all across the empire (at least it was evident to Emmaline). The town itself seemed a waystation for traveling merchants and people looking to flee the attentions of the Drakwald.

"Hello yes er...I would like your largest room. With your very best wine and a two course dinner."

Dev Murmann blinked, eyeing Amal and then glancing back at Emmaline. "You one of those southern merchants herr...?"

"My hair is my busines-"

Emmaline slapped her palm on the oaken desk. "Yes! Yes he is, and I am here to assist him! He's very rich and demands only the finest as you can well see." She slipped between Amal and he, clearing her throat. "We hear your wine is particularly good and he wishes your best bottle to taste. Only the best for Ali Baba!"

"Yes, I am Ali Baba!" Amal said, crossing his arms to make his already impressive biceps larger. "I am very rich! And handsome too, just ask my assistant."

Emmaline blushed furiously, and tried to laugh it off. "Yes, pardon him. How much would that be?" She pinched Amal when she saw his eyes focused on the ornate brass bracelet Dev had on his thick wrist. Amal cleared his throat, pounding his chest with his fist. "Oh and silk sheets with many pillows."
@Penny

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

The next day...

If Amal had told his family back home about all of his adventures, they wouldn't have believed him. And not just because he didn't have a family or a home. Mostly it was because he couldn't believe the situations he found himself in after finding the love of his life, and he wished to tell someone who'd never experienced them with him. He didn't know which God to pray to or if Allah was listening, but he did wish Sir Brenly the best on his adventure. He would have stayed, but holy quests weren't his style. Plus, as much as he loved danger in his life, and Emmaline did as well to his delight, he knew she needed a break. Perhaps it would be nice to stay somewhere for a short while, eat well and make love until they tired themselves to sleep.

Speaking of which, Amal nudged his companion awake. Her arms draped around his midsection and her head pressed to his shoulder, having fallen asleep as the carpet flew over the Albion channel towards the land Amal knew to be called 'The Empire.' He'd call it a pretentious name, but Araby had no shortage of them so he supposed he couldn't judge. Men were men, and he guessed they were pretty much the same everywhere.

As the sun rose over the hilly land below them, he still couldn't quite understand just how green the land could be. Hills gave way to forests, and he even saw various settlements far below intermingling with the river systems that served as the veins of the countries. He almost envied this country for such plentiful water. The only reason Arabyans really only lived in the six great cities was the water sources, but here they snaked across the ground and brought green wherever they went.

"My beautiful love, hello?" He whispered in his native tongue to stir her awake. They were just now gliding lower to the ground, having passed the tree line to a massive forest that covered the land as far as one could see. He nudged her and even nibbled on her ear a bit lovely, hot breath spilling over her neck. "You must wake, my love. We just about to land." He chuckled, and if that didn't waken her, the sudden dip the carpet made would have.

Picking up speed, they twirled faster and faster until Amal cling to Emmaline to keep her from flying off. The trees about them spun as the world did until the carpet merely hovered above a small forest path just outside of a major settlement. Amal had no real idea where they had ended up, but they would both soon find out they were in Middenland, in the town of Delbertz.
@Penny

Friendships

You guys are making friends?

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

"Wot you finkin'?" Ugrek muttered to Kroga, burly hands clutching one of the large rocks they hid behind. Pig-like yellow eyes focusing intently on the Goblin shaman and the circle he had stepped within. Ugrek was the second largest Orc in the mob, just behind Bolg the Warchief, who was out on the sea at the moment. His best mate Kroga was just behind him, and though he'd butcher him if Kroga were to challenge his position, until that day he'd eat and sit next to the nob.

"Dunno," Kroga said, shaking his thick skull. Their shoulders were so broad it was hard to keep them both fully within the six feet of clustered rocks. The rest of the lads were huddled behind the trees, cheering the shaman on. Kroga glanced at the circle. "I dunno who dem humies dere up on dat circle is either. Whoever dey is, dey strong. Too bad we didn't get dere before ol' Galzeez, but rulez is rulez eh?"

Meanwhile within the circle, Amal was unsure of exactly what was transpiring. All he could deduce was Emmaline's powers had been jumpstarted and likely the same was about to happen to this strange goblin mystic. He quickly attempted to try and formulate a plan, his mind racing with a plausible scenario of survival. If nothing else, he knew how to get out of situations alive. He was brought out of his thoughts by the screeching of the Galzeez creature.

"Galzeez!" It cried out, before giving a chant in its foul tongue. The only word Amal caught that he recognized was 'Gork.' The Arabyan did not know the significance of the word, but he wished he had, as he saw a spell more terrible than anything Emmaline had ever wrought materialize before his eyes. It came in the form of a greenish light coalescing in the form of a humongous Orc. So large in fact that it dwarfed even the Giant that had nearly taken them out of the sky! He didn't know what it was made of other than 'magic'. Damn, he wish he knew more about that shit!

"By the Lady!" Sir Brenly exclaimed as Gerard and Douglas called to their own pagan gods.

The towering Orc aberration rose its arms the size of sea worthy ships in the air as if it were hooting and hollering, and without warning it lifted its ginormous foot thirty feet high in the air, the massive appendage now hovering above the rock formation. Amal's eyes widened and Emmaline squeaked in fear. The thief moved on instinct, crouching and spinning, his hand grabbing the handle of a fallen axe. At the outset of his spin, he let it fly to cut across the air.

As the axe flew, he scooped up Emmaline as if she were a sack of flour and leaped on the carpet. "Brenly! Everyone!" He called, and thank Allah the elder Knight was close enough to leap on as well. Douglas leaped and grabbed ahold of the carpet's rungs, but Gerard tripped over a fallen Orc. The next second was the longest second Amal had in weeks. Turning he saw the Galzeez Goblin now crying out, its arm severed from the thrown axe. The foot didn't stop falling, and Amal did not keep Emmaline nor the others from flying out of harm for Gerard's sake. In his heart of hearts, the thief didn't care what happened to the bastard.

The last sound Gerard ever made was a cry of helplessness, and it was cut out by the sound of powerful wind as the carpet sped off like a lightning bolt. Behind them, the foot landed upon the ground, everything within the circle crushed to a bloody pulp. Amal paid it only a moment's notice before he realized just how powered the carpet had become. It thrummed with energy beneath his feet, and he kept himself from openly grinning.

"Douglas, I am sorry for your friend. We will go and drop you off at your village and never bother your people again! Emm, let's make it to the mainland, yes? Brenly?"
@Penny

Scum & Villainy: Black Market Runners

The display monitor on the ship shows everyone the opening of the hanger, revealing an endless void of blackness and stars before you. Rico seems eager to get moving, though there was a nonchalance to him, as if all he needed to see was the image of space to feel right at home. He sets coordinates to the Garneki Station, merely 0.57261 Light Years from your current location and sets the flight plan. "I'm not as intimate in detail on this job of yours as say...well you guys. But I'm pretty certain the ship is the main payment and they'll add a bit more for your trouble to keep you from bailing." Rico informs all three of you as you two forge the documents.

Your journey is uneventful, smooth sailing throughout. In fact it lasts merely fifteen minutes, moving at around 0.001% of your optimal speed with your lightspeed engines. Jumping out of hyperspace, you three see a vast installation, somewhat similar to the one you just left, at least in overt style. The shape of the architecture looks somewhat like a slowly spinning top, with your destination being on the very, very bottom. Rico flies you in effortlessly, speaking to the comm once you're hailed and using a guest's landing code which gives you a limited window to 'park.' Clearly he's done this before and it's lucky you lot recruited him.

You fly in closer and slide into a far more sophisticated hanger than the one you just left. It's guarded by a shield of energy that allows ships to fly in and out seamlessly without exposing anyone within to the void of space beyond. As you park, you get a quick glance of your surroundings on the display. You are located in subsection B16 of the station, with five spots to land in but three are already filled up. You see two Hedgemony troopers casually walking across the inner railing, with various engineers and utility workers milling about fulfilling tasks that would no doubt bore you.

At the very left of the hanger, after you climb the stairs to the walkway, is the entrance to the Station proper, guarded by two more SDO's (Stationary Defense Officers).

---

You are now in the belly of the beast. What is your first course of action?