POOHEAD189

NaNoWriMo 2020

I'm certainly participating in NaNoWriMo this year, but I've never been good at discussing my stories until they're completed. I think I'll try it though and I'll try and be available to help others as well!

The Blackwood

@Luminosity You'll get a Tuesday post. Sorry for the wait.

@Duck I'll look at your character within a day or two, but you 1) still need to be grouped with @Romero, and 2) you won't be able to change characters again unless your character dies.

The Sinful Stars

Orion Pentecost's initial response would have been 'what are you playing at Annika?' but it would have been entirely too familiar and too accusatory. The Knight's face spoke volumes however, not entirely knowing where she was going with this or whether it would stain his honor by following, but quickly a thought occurred to him. Perhaps the Gargoyle of Nowhere was the place where he might find spiritual guidance after he leaves the baron's service. He had longed to be relieved of his distant cousin's court for years, but now that the duke was seeing to it, he knew not where to go. Technically Annika was his confessor rather than he playing the role of her bodyguard, and stupidly he realized that she hadn't said she was going there at all. Only this man whom he didn't entirely trust.

Briefly he wondered if he had some weird, delayed version of the Sathra effect.

At the end of his deliberations, he decided he would acquiesce to whatever she was suggesting, when she suggested it. He and Ragnar had not risked life and limb to save her only to denounce her now, though it seemed a suspicious affair. He was certain she had a good reason. He'd once met a mercenary member of house Xanthippe, and the sister Annika had a look in her eye much like the mercenary had.

"Every man deserves a chance at forgiveness," Orion declared with surety, though he felt painfully arrogant proclaiming the word in front of the Mother Superior. "If that is the pancreator's will. And only he may decide, yes?"

"Yes, of course," The Mother Superior replied, emphasizing each word so as to convey she was growing tired of this little exchange of theirs. Her eyes fell upon Annika once more. "Sister, he can go where he likes to seek solace or forgiveness, but I do expect an explanation as to why you found it prudent to speak to him under my sanctuary without my knowledge, and I'm certain your Knight here is also curious as to your...methods. Estakonic's are known for breaking the mold, as it were. Perhaps the confessor can dole out a confession for once."

She cleared her throat, halting any further reply. "Well, we can discuss everything tomorrow. You, Logan Christopher? You can spend the night in this cell or under heavy guard if you prefer to sleep elsewhere, or you can get out. It's your decision, but I will take my leave."

The Blackwood

@Duck Well seeing as I'll have a severely reduced player number soon, sure! You can make another character.

The Knight's Song

The Knight pivoted on his foot, swinging a backhanded swing that broke the collarbone of a cloaked fiend. He expected a squeal of pain, but the figure simply buckled under the blow, trying to swing a shortsword. Fortunately the fiend's arm did not complete its swing before the figure collapsed, floundering like a fish on the floor. It would have been sad if it was a normal man, but whoever followed this count was undeserving of mercy.

As he swung and struck the thing, another assailant darted in swinging a club. Torm turned and raised his shield to block, parrying the blow before another swing of a cudle knocked the mace out of his weapon hand. It flipped in mid air and landed far in the background. Torm shieldrushed the fiend he blocked, knocking it off its feet as the others rushed in, sensing weakness. It was impressive with which the speed Torm unsheathed his Aculeus longsword, crucifix-hilted and robust of blade. Double fullered to make it lighter with a strong center suitable for cutting, it gently transitioned to a lenticular cross section at the last third of the blade.

Needless to say, the first two attackers that got within range were cut down with one great swing. Torm felt the familiar resistance of the blade biting through bone and flesh. Had they been armored with more than cloth, it might have taken a bit more effort, but Torm was young and strong, full of vigor. His next stabbed missed, the fiend ducking under the jab. Instead Torm redirected his momentum and brained it with the circular pommel of his sword. The thing fell like a poleaxed ox, his field of view now more clear when the figure fell out of his vision. Torm suddenly realized a young, lithe woman was in the courtroom, acting unlike the others. He saw her scream and tear an old arming sword off the archaic suit on the wall. He recognized her as one of the musicians when he'd entered. She'd broken the spell!

"Lycurgus!" He cried, the word not even fully escaping his lips before he felt the rumble of shodden hooves. Cloaked men and women were trampled by the destrier as the warhorse charged to his master. Torm slid his shield out of his arm and lashed it to the saddle. He clicked his tongue twice as the 1,500 pound horse reared up. With a whinny, it shot forward through the crowd, knives and cudgles not nearly enough to seriously harm a beast with such mass, particularly while it was garbed in a modicum of armor itself.

"Take the shield and get on the horse!" He called across the court to her, swiping his blade two handed like a whirlwind of steel, keeping the servants and dancers at bay. He'd taken a vow to always honor a lady in need, and it rubbed him the wrong way when some of the female dancers sent knives at his throat. He would need to confess to a cleric once this was all over, and reluctantly he ran one through with his sword. The Count's mood was palpable, a pressure buzzing in the air from his displeasure at his servant's lack of success.

"Come to me..." He ordered, gnarled hands turned to face upwards, fingernails half as long as daggers raised as he beckoned. Immediately Torm felt a thrilling, inexorable call in his mind to fall to his knees. To be subjugated. That all of his dreams and desires would come true in perfect harmony and beautiful music if he but give in. He nearly dropped his blade, backing up from the advancing horde that menaced him as he fought his inner battle.

"Gods be with me!" He moaned in denial, breaking through slowly. Too slowly.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

As the sun peaked over the horizon, leaving Mannslieb and Morrslieb to fade away until the next night, Amal and Emmaline stirred on the bed. The two of them stretched languorously, sighing contentedly and feeling their naked bodies pressed, stirring further desires they had to go at it again until there was a knock at the door. It vexed Amal to leave Emmaline's embrace, but the promise of danger and the potential of profit stirred his limbs and he slid out of Emmaline's greedy grasp and placed two feet on the floor. Another knock.

"Mr. Ali Baba sir?" Greta's voice called urgently.

"Be there in a moment." He replied as he put his trousers on.

"The guards are downstairs, and they're sort of eating us out of house and home. They're also boasting on breaking this door down when they're done. You might want to-"

"One moment. We'll be out." He said firmly. Emmaline wiggled like an annoyed serpent, unwilling to get up. Amal laughed at how cute he thought she was and then he leaped onto the bed, bouncing her a foot off the mattress, making her squeal. She reared up and glared at him, but was unable to stay mad when he smiled. They both got dressed within minutes and were downstairs. Emmaline, with her disheveled blonde locks drew some leering gazes from the guards, but the captain seemed more professional than the others at least.

"It's about time you two got up. The Baron awaits you." He said, gesturing for his guards to push them forward. When one attempted, Amal grabbed his hand and shoved him back before he even touched he or Emmaline.

"I think we get the picture." He said, taking Emmaline's hand. "Come honey, let's go and clear our names so these common thugs leave us alone. Your country is so barbaric."

"Ugh, indeed," Emmaline replied, playing along. She had the facade of an innocent, albeit posh mistress. "The service here is terrible. They didn't even offer us coffee."

Amal did his best not to snort, ushering her along outside with the watchmen in tow, muttering. One took one last apple, without leaving payment obviously and stepped outside. True enough, Adolf Vandershute was awaiting them just out the door. He looked even more severe than yesterday, likely from being kept waiting. Amal almost would have felt bad were he not planning on killing the man within the hour.

"I take it you had a fine rest? You might not get another chance for some time." The Baron declared. There was no mocking humor in his placid voice.

"On the contrary, we'll be back here before noon. It is your men that need worry. I suspect they have not faced beastman in years." Amal replied confidently.

Amal had their belongings in a moderately sized pack that looked like simple traveling gear. They weren't supposed to be walking far, but the men chalked it up to being the naivety of a foreigner. Their magic carpet was curled within, ready to pop out at Amal's instant call. More than likely they were going to use it to escape if the two of them couldn't kill the six men that were to set out.

Without further interruption they headed toward the southern edge of Delbertz, drawing the gazes of any passerby and shopkeep. Some might have thought he and Emmaline were being escorted like aristocracy with the Baron showing around his honored guests. Most likely it looked like they were walking into an execution. Either way, within minutes they stepped onto the forest path...

The Blackwood

Ok, this weekend I am going on a camping trip with my dad and little brother. I guess we want to get out of all 3 of our respective homes. My point is, if you haven't posted by the time I get back to civilization, I'll consider you no longer being interested in the roleplay. Lumi and Romero are exempt because they have since replied to my latest updates.

Describe the person above you in three words or less.

Very nice person

Discord DnD 5e New players Welcome

Sorry, we don't really allow discord advertisements on the site unfortunately.