POOHEAD189

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

"What the fuck?" Miguel whispered on his comm. Neil could tell Miguel wasn't really passionate about taking risks. He was a 9-5 kinda guy. Still, the pilot was confused too, seeing Junebug heading down the ridge with a thirteen or fourteen year old carrying a rifle right behind her. He knew it was a kid but if he decided to turn that barrel on Sayeeda she'd have no chance of surviving. Taya behind the both of them should have made him feel at ease, but lo and behold it didn't. They might not be too far off, but with the sun glaring down on Neil he wasn't the crackshot he usually was.

"Who the hell is that?" Neil called to her when she was in earshot, vaulting over the back of the junker they'd been driving.

"Who the hell are you!?" The younger kid said, pointedly trying to make Neil not talk past him. Far from it, actually. Neil was a big kid himself. He knew kids were far smarter and more wiley than people gave them credit for. That being said...

"Who the fuck are you talking to!?" He yelled at the kid.

"Down boy. You're here to be pretty, not speak." Junebug remarked, trying to hide a smile from him. Neil gave her a look, knowing she was just trying to demasculate him in front of the kid. Taya had arrived to stand by the young shooter, and Neil thought they were pretty much the same size. It nearly made him laugh, but he decided to just poke Sayeeda more to explain what was going on. She acquiesced a moment later, taking the sling of her rifle off her shoulder and placing it beside her seat in the junker. "We're taking this kid back to his place."

"Is that cool with the boss?" He asked.

"We were hired to protect the caravan...we protected it. What does it matter we're a little late to making it back? They don't pay us to kill kids."

Neil tongued his toothpick, hefting his own gun in the sunlight. "You got it, Captain."
@Penny

Sup

@Future King Welcome to the Guild!! Let us know if you have any questions.

The Blackwood

@Flagg@Gunther You two still with us? No biggie if you're not, but you need to tell me so I can give other people a chance to join. I'll need a post before Tuesday if you're still in the RP.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Amal took the mug she handed to him, and he indicated she sit on his lap again. She grinned and did so, and once there they 'clacked' mugs together and took deep gulps of the draught. Amal could get used to hearty northern alcohol, not that he wouldn't miss a good glass of Arabyan Arak, but judging by how rich they were (and how rich he planned on them getting) he could always order some from the very elusive city of Marienburg.

"True as always, spring of my heart." He agreed, still unconvinced of tomorrow going smoothly. He did not doubt the Drakweld or Drapwalk or wherever they were held many beastmen. But the entire town seemed to believe the Baron, and unless they were escorted by four guards or less, they might have some trouble fighting their way out if things turned south. "You know, you would make an excellent Queen were you born into it." He said sincerely. Granted his main experience with rulers were those wanting to enslave or execute him, but he was still certain she was smart enough for it.

It dawned on him, and he gave a low chuckle just beside her ear. Placing the mug down, he slid his long knife out of its sheath and presented the blade before her eyes. Back when they had first met, he remembered doing something similar to intimidate her, or at least make her wary that she should trust no one. Now, all of these months later a thousand miles to the north, he did it with her, knowing full well they trusted one another with their lives.

"You know...perhaps the Baron will come with us tomorrow. Maybe on the journey we do happen to run into beastmen." He whispered suggestively, grinning. "Perhaps we make it back, the both of us, alone to tell the town of the horrid news. Or-" He tossed the knife in the air with a deft flick of his fingers, catching it by the blade and flicking his wrist. The Knife embedded into the wall right below a brass making of the 'Hammer' many Sigmarite rooms had. "Perhaps I go tonight and kill him without anyone the wiser. In the morning they'll be too terror stricken to care about our small lie. Maybe I steal a bit of his wealth too? Coupled with ours, we could buy his mansion and live like royalty."

Amal looked sly as ever, gauging her reaction with his dark eyes and full lips curved into a smile. He wasn't dead set on any course of action, but if nothing else it was something to consider.
@Penny

The Hyborian Chronicles: Of Sword and Sorcery

At first Abelard considered this a dream or some wild vision granted by Asura. But his skin watered from the humid heat, feeling it course and rough to breathe in. He felt itchy from the brushing of the long fern-like grass, and the microscopic insects clinging to his ankles. The Priest had seen many wonders of the gods; vast cataclysms and eldritch spells given to him within visions and dreams. But what manner of magic this thing was, was daunting to his sensibilities. He sensed that the Opal was not far off, however, and that was what they would need to cling their hopes to.

"Ware and steel yourself Barbarian woman," He said to her, clutching his staff in both hands now. Twisting his hands, the spike at the end protruded again and he changed his stance as if he held a spear, which he practically did. In the distance a grinding roar lifted in the air and a porcine squeal echoed. Abelard had heard tale of the great southern jungle cats thrice as large as a man, and felt their potential all too real at that moment. "Whether we are in the Black Lands south of dreaded Stygia or some nether realm, we must retrieve the Opal at all costs."

The two of them crept warily, Abelard with his spear at the ready. Somehow he felt less suited to the situation that Anya, for the woman seemed just as home here as she likely was in the frozen north. Abelard nearly tripped over what he had perceived to be a log at one point, until he realized it was the midsection of an enormous python, resting in the brush. So large was it, it moved too sluggishly to give he or Anya any notice, and the two stepped over it carefully. Likely it was savoring a recent meal, which brought many uncomfortable questions they needn't dwell on.

After cutting through thickly draped vines and undergrowth that clutched at their hips, the two of them burst into a clearing. Anya landing as any skilled warrior would, and Abelard moving like he preconceived where the correct places to step was to keep his footing. The jungle glade was about fifty square feet with turfts of exotic blades of grass mingled with dirt. Sunken bones of both man and beast jutted out of the soil. What was slightly more concerning and significant was the Opal of Power set upon a dias of tied bone at the very center.

Introduction of Ginouxe

@Ginouxe Lovely to meet a fellow medieval/fantasy fan! Let me know if you have any questions on anything. And love the Eris avvy. She's the best :)

The Sunday Group - Bumps in the Night

Edgar felt the flames licking his skin, and the screams of those long dead still haunting his memories. He had to tell himself not to cover his mouth, for the air around him wasn't thick with smoke or embers that were scattered from fallen debris. It had been nearly two hundred years ago, on pentecost at Grue Church in Skulstad, on a bright morning when the fire had started. It had ended the lives of one hundred and thirsteen people on that day, the deadliest disaster by fire in Norwegian history. Only Edgar had escaped alive, and only he had discovered it was started by demons. The wizard clutched his shirt, trying to shake away those memories from so long ago. The elderly man was not there any longer. He told himself he was in the Seattle-Tachoma International Airport, and the panic around him was of the making of strange monsters, yes, but not the fire he had experienced so long ago in his childhood.

He opened his eyes, and he was no longer the child caught in the fire. Flame was his tool and under his command, as were all of the elements under the sun. He did not have his grimoire handy, but he needed it not. He glanced Eleanor's way, watching the afterburn of her hex on the crowd and understanding the goal of her spell, even if he wasn't entirely certain of the end goal of how it would effect the monster-men attacking his comrades. Knowing Mael and Clive, they'll give as good as they get in most instances of danger. He needn't worry on them overmuch.

His would-be apprentice on the other hand, was a different matter. At the corner of his vision he saw a brilliant flash of light from a ruined storefront, a sparking sign with DELTA CONVIENCE in large words died of power as he watched Val crawling away desperately from the monster-thing. Clearly it wasn't a norse beast, but he'd fought more than those chronicled by the Northmen. He started walking, making his way past screaming men and women tripping over themselves, grim as Odin himself. The wizard's casual-ware gave way to his arcane robes, brightly colored and etched in runes of old. He saw the thing reared itself up, spreading its arms wide to engulf Val in its embrace where it would devour her alive.

Edgar, now around a score of feet away, flung his arm in the direction of the thing. Impossibly, a spiked chain shot out of his sleeve just under his arm. The spike impaled the demonic thing in the chest, causing it to wretch up ichor and bile onto the tiles just before Val's feet. The thing looked powerfully built and beyond his strength, and yet the chain held and despite the thing's desperate yanking, it was stuck with the chain impaled in its torso.

"I banish you to Hel, beast. Know you not who wrought this chain? Made for Fenris himself it was, and you nor any other being on earth save the Christian Leviathan might even test its strength!" He declared, producing his shillelagh from behind his back. The creature, simian in build and demonic in visage, turned to screech at him. Instead it received a sound 'thump' as Edgar's blessed stick cracked its skull like a walnut, and it hit the ground noiselessly. Whether it was dead or not, he didn't know. But it wouldn't move from this spot so long as the chain bound it here. Even now Val saw the chain in its chest connected to some eldritch hole in the floor.

"Get up girl, by Grimnir!" He chastised. "We have no time for you to be playing with these troll-spawn."

Hider

Edgar teaches one of these things a lesson in manners and saves Val

The Blackwood

It's been a week since the game started and a lot has happened so far. I'm enjoying it.

2 of you are close to leveling up, by the way.

Scum & Villainy: Black Market Runners

Once you three make your plan, the elevator/lift door opens to reveal a hall much more utilitarian and barren than the almost eloquent and brightly furnished upper foyer. There's no carpet on the floor, giving everything a very purgatorial and uniform look. You do notice it has a lot of good lighting, and you see two SDO's making their rounds walking over to the elevator, likely curious on who was coming down, or at least being told to confirm your location.

One waves at you, but it seems they knew someone with the right clearance was coming down because they simply turn the corner and go left down the hall. The forward hall leads...well forward, with four other halls intersecting. Two on the left and two on the right, likely leading into different areas with different cells.

You see a terminal just outside of the elevator door, which looks to be a list and catalogue of all the criminals and undesirable people they have locked down here. A large touch keypad is laid out on display to be used at your convenience. However, you need a password or you need to hack it to start it up, or it might be easier and less suspicious to simply start walking. You know by the map in your possession that anything that has to do with core units of the ventilation system is through the right hall.

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Make your rolls and decisions, ladies and gents!