POOHEAD189

Cinnabar Forever! (RCN)

The ship certainly didn't look good from the outside. Once an impeccable and expensive, albeit baseline ship of the line, the Vickie now looked closer to a pawned off older model sold at half price to pirates. The hull was marred as if great beasts from the seas of old earth had clawed at it. Even now he saw a sail, half shorn and hanging by a veritable thread from it's base, lightly flapping in what solar winds it could catch so far out here in the boonies. Kaiden knew it would take a huge sum of money to clean up, but at the end of the day it was mostly cosmetic damage. None of the ship's integrity had been compromised, all guns in tact, none of the main sails had been damaged. Port side seemed to have gotten the worst of it, but it was nothing more than being hit by a light, unexpected asteroid anomaly. More annoying and more concerning beforehand than the results that occurred afterward.

Kaiden made his way back from the portside to reconvene with Sabatine at the center of the aft to report damages to one another. He saw her coming slowly from the distance, still bewildered he was finding the woman he wanted to never see again as more and more of someone he needed to depend on again. Kaiden himself was planting another fuel gauge that gone loose, twisting it shut in the vacuum of space and lifting himself to his feet, now face to face with Sabatine.

"How's your end, Sabbie?" He asked, the glass of his helmet pressed to hers. "From my end it's workable, if we keep from getting any more hull damage."
@Penny

The Blackwood

Within five hours, Emilio and Wēlanandaz found themselves setting up shop as the sun began to set in the distance. It would have been a good time to get a bead on their fellow merchants, but their day was winding to a close. Thankfully, Emilion and Wēlanandaz had gotten a great location thanks to Emilio's lawyerings and the Dwarf's impeccable craftsmanship. The architecture around them was clean and well carved, and at the center of a small courtyard was a large fountain where the small amount of citizenry enjoyed spending their time.

As the two of them cleaned their shop, which was a larger shop area with a counter, and an area to hang up whatever items they might have, there was a knock at the door, and without waiting for an answer a slim woman wearing a business suit entered, looking around. Her hair was cut short and her eyes were covered in spectacles.

"Yes, is this the...are you Emilio and Wēlanandaz? Here are the contracts you wished for. You will speak to the lords tomorrow to give them your answer on their offers of discounts or supply." She declared, handing Wēlanandaz the papers. She seemed to never smile, scrutinizing the two of them as if they were unwanted feral dogs that happened to wander into the fortified town. "I have been told you two have two rooms to accommodate you here. The lords are being quite generous to you both. Do appreciate it."

The most prominent area that Wēlanandaz would appreciate was in the small area in the back, where a small place for a forge had been set up. Unfortunately, there was only a bloomery out there. They would need to purchase the anvil, the coals, and the tools, unless they had already brought any of them via their donkey and their cart.
@Tony Pajamas@Jb

---

The forest around them was deathly quiet, which merely served to make their struggles seem louder. Or his struggle more like. The fellow that was running seemed a bit too well fed to be out and about in the Blackwood alone. In real time, he tripped over what was an easily surmountable and visible root stuck out of the ground. He clawed his way forward before evidently not wishing to die with his backturned, rolling over to pull himself backward.

"No, please! Don't kill me, foul woman!"

The woman was certainly following him, but she made no move toward a weapon, or even had a stance that betrayed her being aggressive save the fact she seemed greatly annoyed by the look on her face.

The fat merchant saw Torsten and his two companions step out of the wood, and he looked as if the Gods had answered his prayers. Cheeks flushed, he called to them. "Please kind sirs, save me! She is a werewolf! A foul northern witch of Norgard I say! Kill her before she speaks!"

The woman stopped when Torsten ordered, but she did not answer him immediately. She crossed her arms. "Am I a witch or a werewolf? Which is it you oaf." She stepped forward and reached out to him, and as he scrambled away she grabbed at his coinpurse and hefted it in her hands. Turning to the newcomers, she held out her other hand defensively. "This man tried to cheat me at cards. I saw through it and beat him at his own game. For some reason he thought it magic."

"It was sorcery, I swear." The merchant pleased, breathing heavily. "I saw the card change in my hand! Even my fellows were bewitched to her."
@Gunther

The Blackwood

@Tortoise@Duck You both still here in the RP?

Myling says hi!

Welcome to the site!

The Knight's Song

The cultist's nose shattered in a spray of visceral blood, Torm pivoting on his foot and cutting off a woman's head at the base of the neck, her face a perpetual parody of ecstasy as her head bounced onto the castle floor. The minstrel had a good view of the Knight scything through them like wheat, looking only partially injured from the myriad of blows the desperate thralls attempted upon him. Other than a bruise under his armor and a gash across his forehead, Torm looked and felt as hale as ever. But the servants of this ruinous power had to be dozens upon dozens, and it was only when Lycurgus burst through their lines and broke the circle around him that he felt he might make it out alive. To his relief he saw the woman atop the beast, trying her best to hold on, having given up on giving his steed orders. Surprisingly a knife appeared in her hand and she slashed a man who reached for across the face, causing him to stumble back.

Torm didn't delay, mounting his horse in front of her. Knowing his master's wishes, Lycurgus spun, knocking aside various occultists surging in with insane fury, the press of bodies like a single, living entity. Torm impressively held his longsword in one hand, stabbing and pull cutting as he spurred Lycurgus forward half a dozen feet.

"What are you doing!?" Julliette yelled, seeing them wading further in rather than making a run for it.

"We have to kill the fiend!" The Knight exclaimed, wincing as someone cut into his leg with a butcher knife. The thrall took a pommel to the head for his efforts, causing his body to fall limply under the tide of his fellows. To better pave their way, Lycurgus whinnied and lifted the fore of his powerful body upwards, causing the minstrel to cling to Torm. Her mouth was very close to his ear when she exclaimed-

"We need to get the devil out of here! You're a bloody knight, save me!" She screeched.

Her words and the very real possibility that his failure might result in her death too gave him pause. Somehow he didn't feel she was the damsel in distress type, but anyone unwittingly facing death in the face would be a bit hysterical. He had come prepared to fight, whereas she had simply been under the accursed one's dominion, seeing a chance to escape when he arrived.

With a growl of frustration, he spun Lycurgus around once again. At the corner of his eye, he saw a rope being flung at their direction. On instinct, Torm shoved his forearm in the way, the rope entwining loosely around his hand. When he felt the rope go taut, he simply yanked on it and sent Lycurgus charging. The woman placed both her hands on Torm's head and turned it forward, causing the Knight to see the large doors closing before them. He felt a cold dread in his throat, quelling it when he kicked Lycurgus into action. The horse brayed and charged, lowering its head as if Torm expected the steed to burst through the thick oaken doors. They might be able to if they wished to break most of the bones in their bodies, but that wasn't a favorable prospect to anyone.

As the gateway swung closer and closer to closing, the minstrel tossed her last dispensable knife at one of the gaps beside the door hinges, slowing it just enough for the two of them and Lycrugus to burst into the torrent of wind and rain, nearly sliding and breaking their bodies as Lycurgus did his best not to slip along the wet stairway leading into the court yard, keeping balance just by making a desperate leap. Torm felt the rope he had go lax, glancing to see no one holding onto it as the doors closed with the finality of the gates of hell.
@Penny

Cinnabar Forever! (RCN)

Kaiden pushed himself onto the bridge, unwittingly sending a cadet to the ground. Whirring alarms and shouts of incoming missiles didn't give credence to just how bewildered his men were. He had heard Sabatine and Micha's encounter even as he stepped on deck, his senses sharpened to a razor's edge from all reports. He held his hand out to the cadet who he pushed, seeing it was Randals. As he pulled him up, he called for Otis to review the enemy's positions. Captain Micha was struck frozen in the corner, shaken at their situation and mumbling to himself. A case of the nerves that would likely see him relieved of his position.

"Halifax redeployed Lieutenant! 110k away and closing! K-12 102k and swinging round!" Otis shouted over the noise of the others. Ensign Enrique kept Bushman and Harwen controlled and on task keeping the ship steady as the guns shook the entirety of its structure. Randals ran back to his post, and Kaiden had the distinct impression that if he hadn't run into him he would have abandoned his post. He'd speak to him on it later.

"What do we do sir!? Orders!" Howarth asked. The man wasn't stricken with fear but clearly Sabatine had her hands full maneuvering the ship while Micha was as useless as an Alliance Diplomat.

"No Captain ever did wrong by attacking." He quoted, a paraphrased motto from a long lost commander on ancient earth. They needed a better position, however. The images on screen displayed a blinding display of fireworks that kept them all alive. Goddamn Sabatine was good. "Take us down! Dive!"

"Land!?" Midshipam Otis balked.

"No, dammit! Just down!" He ordered, taking a position at the center of the bridge, holding onto one of the decorative poles emblazoned with the Cinnabar colors to keep himself balanced. He switched to the two way link. "Hold tight Sabbie, this will be rough." He informed her as they swung and dropped three kilometers. He heard Sabatine cursing but she didn't relent. He trusted her more than anyone in this sort of situation.

"Sir, we can't outrun these missiles." Bushman remarked incredulously.

"Bushman, Harwen, Randal. Get ready on the plasma thrusters."

"Sir we're not in the atmosphere." Enrique said, clearly thinking the Lieutenant hadn't noticed what had transpired earlier. "There is no orbit."

"Enrique you are temporarily relieved of your position." Kaiden said coldly, causing the Ensign to blanch. The cadets and spacers glanced at him, but the prince's strikingly dark blue eyes blazed with a baleful light. Kaiden didn't skip a beat as their ship plummeted to the surface, picking up speed from the pull of the celestial body's gravity. "Thrusters, on my mark!" Meanwhile, anti-orbital guns were redeploying and aiming at them yet again.

"Sir, 55,000 kilometers away from the surface! They've fired all missiles!"

"Port side thrusters!" He commanded, the ship suddenly lurching and shuddering immensely as it's superstructure was pushed to the breaking point, missiles streaking past them. Normally the thrusters would have been next to useless in the open expanse of space, but the moon's gravity had given them the support they needed whilst being an unforeseen factor in their enemy's missile trajectory. Even now they had a good view of three missiles having missed completely, striking into the moon and ripping into the lunar rock beside the Hikendorf and anti-orbital guns, tearing half the guns to shreds. With any luck it took the Hikendorf out of order.

"K-12 40,000 miles from us sir!" Otis cried. Kaiden grinned, switching to the two way comm.

"Sabbie, now would be a good time to fire the missiles."
@Penny

The Pavonis Campaign - Warhammer 40000

The Corporal had his back pressed to the wall beside her, the passing torches shifting Connor's face from shadow to light every moment, making his features seem both chiseled and grim. He felt the Commissar was very unlike the other he had known on Lorn V, and he found that was fortunate. Maybe he could feel good about being 'advised' by her rather than being made to out of the chain of command. That is, if they lived to see any days past this one. The column of rebels not ten meters away walked in a rough fashion, clearly untrained, but there was a rhythm to their march that made him uncomfortable. They wouldn't be the mindless peasant uprising some had said. Their experiences earlier today had proved that much.

"Sewer systems?" He whispered aloud, but he knew before she even disavowed it. They didn't know the layout. They just knew the general direction based on where they had fled from.

Connors peeked around the corner once more, watching the men and women yelling and raising their fists in their air through the street. The line must have been half a kilometer long and that wouldn't be the last of them. The corporal blinked in surprise when he saw an Ogryn, or what he assumed was an Ogryn walking beside the citizenry, wielding a flamer and sniffing the air. It's tree-trunk thick arms and ugly face would be enough to intimidate any imperial soldier save for an Adeptus Astartes. A low flame flickered at the edge of its barrel, the unwieldy gun connected to a backpack behind the beast. Flamers weren't as volatile as melta weapons, but they were prone to accidents every now and then.

Connor suddenly had an idea, and he had to keep a smile from his lips when he thought of it.

"I have a thought, ma'am. But we need to hurry." He whispered, clearing his throat. "Take off your hat and jacket. Give me your jacket and keep your hat hidden..."

She looked at him hard, and he realized it was an odd request. "Do it." He said. "Punish me later, but I can't explain in time. Do it!"

As she did so, he took off his helmet and hid it in his pack. She handed him her jacket, and he turned it inside out and slid it on himself, the coloring and threading making it very much like a wool jacket a poor man might wear. He grabbed his gun and eased up out of the wall just a hair, his barrel steadying and his finger on the trigger. He was about to take matters into his own hands when he realized how stupid it was. Any survivor would see the laser and what direction it had come from. Not only that, but he had no idea if such a tactic would work with lasweaponry. He set the weapon down and looked to the Commissar. "Bolt pistol." He whispered. He did not doubt she had reservations of handing him the pistol, but reluctantly she acquiesced and handed to him. Connors took it and aimed carefully, right hand on the trigger and left hand steadying the weapon as he held his breath for the shot.

POP. FFFWOOOOMP

The bolt slug hit the gas tank behind the Ogryn, and the reaction was instantaneous. The sheer force of the explosion sent Connor flying back, knocking him on top of the Commissar in a very unbecoming position as the street ignited in the hellfire of the emperor's wrath, incinerating dozens of men and women and knocking back twice that many. Screams and cries erupted in the street and the odd gunshot rang out in the confusion. No doubt any rebel would come swarming to their position soon, but Connor didn't expect them to stay here for any length of time.

He pushed himself off of her, embarrassingly clearing his throat and handing her the pistol back. "Let's go." he said, straightening her inside-out jacket and walked out of cover, his flak vest covered by the jacket and Katiya's messy blonde hair and hard set visage akin to someone who worked long hours.

"Free Pavonis! Down with the government!" Connors screamed wildly as the crowd surged and cried out similar sentiments, some desperately looking for an enemy whilst others simply wanted to get away from the flames as quickly as they could. Connors shouldered past a one-eyed man with a strange, eldritch sign caved into his forehead and nearly bowled over a young couple, the woman holding a baby. It surprised him how full of rage and the lack of self preservation they exuded. The mass of bodies was so thick, even scattered, that Connors nearly had to hold his breath until he and Katiya stumbled out of the throng. In all likelihood the explosion was deemed an accident, and as they made it across the street and into the next, darkened alleyway, they heard more guns barking ammunition, either at one another or into the sky.

5 minutes later...

Their foots softly banged along an aluminum, industrial walkway as they entered an abandoned factory. Now they had little to worry on regular marching and contingents as the whole of the rebel forces this side of the city would be converging at their last location. Now they just had the odd criminal or wayward patrol to worry on, at least if they made good time. Now in the darkened chamber of the factory, Connor stripped off Katiya's jacket, holding it out to her.

"Apologies ma'am."
@Penny

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

The road had not been hard on the young prince, despite the journey stretching the breadth of the empire. He had not been able to travel as far as he would have enjoyed in his youth, but his father had sent him on no shortage of meaningless errands reserved for the most brown nosed of courtiers. 'Diplomatic missions' he had called it, but Kayden had to see the wisdom in it. Meeting the nobles he would one day have to forge friendships with was not an entirely unreasonable idea. He was far more excited for this outing, to be sure. Hard country marred by mountains had fed into rolling hills, Kayden often at the head of his contingent to enjoy the windswept beauty of the country he would one day rule. With a retinue of twenty knights and assorted bannermen, they had found no trouble on the trek save for weather. A storm and muddied ground had halted his men at the Southern Church above Hresveig, staying there for a day to recuperate and let their horses rest before they made all speed to Varley and from there, Garreg Mach. Two weeks later and his curiosity not having lessened, he had said farewell to his men and had sent them to enjoy themselves in Varley before they were to arrive back at Enbarr within the month.

Now, standing within the holy basilica of the central church, he held himself in a quiet reserve as the young Archbishop spoke. For some reason Kayden felt very aware of his surroundings here; a crisp clarity gripped him within the hallowed walls. He decided he wanted a wider view of the room and so watched from the back, leaning against the stone wall as the Archbishop addressed him and his new classmates. He had figured the young head of the church to be more austere in manner to command respect, but he guessed he was simply projecting onto Archbishop Ioannis. The church likely needed a softer touch, and he chided himself. Here he was evaluating the Archbishop when he should be listening, and once he took the holy one and his words at face value, he found he did think he was a natural at his position. Maybe one day they could be acquaintances, if his goddess willed it.

The crowd was dismissed, and they were separated within their rooms by nation of origin. Kayden wasn't entirely certain on how things were to go or how the school was to be run. He had been given a few stories by some of his knights and courtiers that had attended or known others that had. None of them had told him that the Tomai Malathice was to be his teacher! Kayden had thumbed through his book and had read a few chapters here and there when he had the time. A fascinating scholarly work. He should have known the writer was a pretty big asshole.

"Uh...I don't know what I expected." Kayden said aloud after the professor had walked out. They had the whole day to do absolutely nothing? He wondered how much he'd need to rely on professor Malathice and the whole homeroom situation. He'd find out eventually, he supposed.

Kayden took the opportunity to turn himself around in his chair, crossing his arms to rest atop the back of his chair. So far there were twenty others in the class. He might have expected a bit more from the Black Eagles, but they would make do. "Well," He remarked, clearing his throat and regarding the closest three. "I don't exactly know my responsibilities as class leader, but I'll do my best to find out. Let's start simple. You likely know who I am. Where do you two hail from in the Empire?" Kayden had the vague notion of having seen them before, so they were likely nobility. He was good at keeping faces in his memory.

That was when he realized.

It was a distinct possibility they would serve Garreg Mach Meat Pie for lunch, and he felt far too hungry. He had only enjoyed a light breakfast on the road. He hid it behind an open and attentive face, but he hoped their introductions were quick. He got snarky when he was hungry for long.

IRL you vs Internet you!

I'm pretty similar, though I'm probably a bit snarkier and more prone to making jokes IRL. I think my major difference of how I act is whether I am at work or not. When I'm working I'm quiet and focused (unless I'm having a bad/stressful day then I'll likely talk to myself for some reason) whereas if I'm with someone and I'm comfortable with them I'll talk and joke.

The Blackwood

The next day...

It was an hour after sun up, and the entrepreneurial town filled with hard working men and women had already begun their work-days. As it was a frontier settlement for travelers, protection, and supplies, there was a lack of poultry and small time farming, so what woke Mari up would be the sun peeking through her windows and the distant calls of merchants rather than the sound of any rooster crowing. If or when she made it outside, at first she would see no one in her group. But thanks to the rising son and her sharp eyes, she would recognize Kane if no one else in the distance, speaking to a man on horseback by the northern gate before the man trotted away, deeper into the forest.

If she drew closer, she would notice the party waiting patiently. In fact they seemed at ease, as if waiting for more than her. It became evident that Po wasn't there just yet. As it were, Orek and Phyrrae had taken a seat on the very last porch before the gate, right before a store that seemed to be selling small items of pottery and knickknacks for good luck or ornamentation. They were playing a strategy game on a small wooden board, called 'Thrones and Conquerors.' It was a war game with a heavy emphasis on calculating your opponent's next move.

As Kane approached the group from what he had been speaking to the rider of, Orek heard his footsteps and looked up to notice Mari too.

"Mornin'" He called, not noticing Phyrrae changed a small piece on the board which Mari could point out if she so wished. Phyrrae had very quick hands, evidently.

"Taking the north road through the Murkrift would be best." Kane rumbled. In the sunlight, Kane looked even more formidable than the night previous. It was something else seeing one of another race, but one of such muscled bulk and bestial features as a Drogotar was still intimidating.

"That's..." Orek began, blinking at the board and then eyeing Phyrrae. "That's not right... er, Kane you do know what lurks there, eh?"

"I've heard Orcs have mobilized in the northern forest. Something calls them." He said.

"What lives in Murkrift sleeps." A voice declared behind Mari, revealed to be Po along with another fellow, mustachioed and apparently wielding a rapier, sheathed at his hip. They both walked by her and stand beside the others. Po gave Mari a smile, before speaking to the group as a whole. "With luck we can get through it. But that still leaves the problem of the water being acidic."

The other fellow openly appraised Mari with a raised eyebrow, taking her hand and kissing it if she let him/was too surprised to pull away. He spoke Vrettonian, and clearly the entire party was unamused. Orek looking to the sky as if begging the gods to smite him while Po looked blankly ahead, as if embarrassed he even brought the fellow this morning.

"No one told me such a beauty would be going on this trek." He remarked, heavily accented in his speech. Po tapped him on the shoulder and interrupted him.

"Why don't you talk business with Orek, Sinclair." Po said, and when he saw the look Po gave him, the man did, complaining under his breath in the foreign language.
@Luminosity