POOHEAD189

Current Mood in One Gif

Illustrious Illustrations by Poo

Pit Fighter

Hider

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

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"You'd think at such a prestigious school, they could afford humane transportation." Kayden muttered as the carriage leaped yet again over what had to be a rock the size of his head. He nearly bumped into Derec's back with his knee, but caught himself on the side of the opened window, seeing his fellow classmates look as miserable as he felt. He wished the teachers had asked the students if any of them could ride a horse. Kayden would be enjoying a bright day rather than this unending nightmare. He could also do without the smell, though whether it was the horses up front, someone's nighttime sweating, or someone decided to perform biological warfare, he couldn't guess. Perhaps that was the smell of peasant up close, though he would like to think he gave them more credit than that.

The morning had begun delightfully, with a full breakfast and a sword routine in the courtyard. It always helped to practice the basics, his master-of-arms had iterated to him every day. It was why he didn't mind hearing the same boring thing over and over during his history lessons or Michail's military education. Yes, he knew most of what they taught, but he was reminded of crucial aspects and there were a few kernels of new knowledge he did well to note. Though the announcement of a trip had him ready and willing to leap out into the world, seeing it as a grand way to get to know his classmates and hone his combat skills. Now he just wished that the Goddess would show mercy on a handsome, humble prince such as he. He did have to admit he admired the fortitude and restraint of the other students during this haul.

Once the cart halted, Kayden awaited as patiently as he could for the others to spill out, giving Derec the right of way because he couldn't imagine sitting ass first on the floor of the carriage. Though he did decidedly step out before Auberon just to be petty, even if he chastised himself silently for such a childish notion as soon as the sun kissed his skin again. At that, his mood and demeanor gradually seeped back into the intelligent, skilled, and intensely good looking man that he was.

"Agreed," He said, referring to Lienna's declaration. The debonair prince strode up to stand beside her, placing a hand above his eyes to shield the sun so as to better view what the others were looking at. "I think an edict on the construction and distribution of carriages is way overdue, judging by our recent journey." As he spoke, the riders drew nearer. He didn't think they meant harm, but he didn't entirely blame Auberon and goodman Kellen for being concerned. He noted there were two riders, likely fleeing from somewhere. Not that it dismissed them as a danger, mind. Kayden tried to read their expressions and clothing, for he had sharp eyes, but he was somewhat distracted as the sweet girl Imogen found the inclination to leap ahead of the group in the path of the approaching horsemen.

Kayden blinked, looking at the others and wondering if anyone had the same sinking feeling he did. He gave a harsh sigh. "Ugh, dammit." He breathed, and suddenly realized he was now running. He hoped no one saw him in the act and thought he was charging headlong into combat, because they'd either join him or think him an idiot. Rather he was using his long legs to make good time to Imogen's position, skidding to a stop in front of her. He could feel the riders bearing down on them, but he couldn't just have her here exposed!

"Imogen, we need to go back. This is business for the professors." He said breathlessly, looking between her and the riders. She might not be on his team, but she was a fellow student and a damsel in possible distress. Kayden attempted to keep the concern from his face and voice, so he uneasily offered. "Um, allow me to escort you back? Preferably immediately to behind the teachers?"

Gold & Glory: AU thread

"Lower the mainsail!" Markus called to the deck, which Morgan promptly repeated in the crew's ears. It was good fortune they had made good time, lest they might have hit the rocks in the dead of night without any warning. Brod and Holdman rushed to do the captain's bidding as Sketti walked up the stairs that led to the aft castle, his mohawk cresting the rise first. Strangely, the Dwarf's stump hand was now fixed with a hammer. He should have known the eccentric Slayer could make modifications accordingly. Behind him, Klaus the scholar, who had surprisingly decided to remain with the crew, followed in his wake with a book clutched in his manicured fingers. Markus was a bit busy at the moment, placing his hands over the rail and calling to Eckard, who had taken out the lead line and dropped it into the water below. "How deep are we!?"

"Fifteen fathoms, captain!" He called up. In contrasting fashion, the lookout's voice rose to his ears from above. "A mile from the opening, captain!"

"Ye ever been here, lad?" Sketti asked, smoking he pipe he had no doubt nicked from Sartosa. The wind drove the smoke into Klaus' face, the fellow sputtering and moving to the other side of the squat engineer.

"No, have you?" Markus asked as Klaus raised his hand to speak.

"Heard the stories. Them rocks are perilous in more ways than their jagged edges." He rumbled. Markus walked past him, Klaus yet again raising his hand to no avail. "If you'll excuse me gentlemen, I need to take the helm." Klaus followed him as he turned the wheel of the ship, making for the spot he had aimed them for. A jagged, maw-like opening that could fit two ships the size of The Hammer abreast, if they were careful.

"Twelve fathoms!"

"S-sir." Klaus pipped up beside Markus. "Captain Flintbrooks, there could be pirates here."

Markus turned his head to look at him.

"Point taken, but there's further dangers. I've read extensively on the coastline of Tilea during my time employed by the Duke Estaban, of which I and your blonde bint had been previously associated with. There could be monstrous creatures in there. Merwyrms comes to mind, though during my ecological studies I did discover that such beasts frequented the Sea of Claws in greater numbers, but there's something else you should take note of..."

The ship entered the crack in the rock slowly, quietly. Only Eckard's call of "Ten fathoms!" rose, and yet even that call seemed to choke in the heavy silence. Markus gazed around, hawkeyed. He expected brigands to be nestle among the rocks, or vast tentacles to snake out of the crevasses or waterways at any moment. The men huddled close together on deck, though Halfdan and Eckard kept close to the sides to keep watch.

Klaus cleared his throat before continuing. "Sir, there's also mermaids."

The intimidating silence and the perilous rocks that he had to weave through made the scholar's comment so outlandish, Markus snorted and then laughed. "Mermaids? The beautiful sea women?" He asked incredulously. "If we find a few we'll divvy them up among the lads."

"Yes, but! But, they are cruel and revel in the death of men. I've found they are spirits of drowned, scorned women." He looked around warily, doubtless afraid of any of the three monstrous options of foes, though Markus could not for the life of him understand why he mentioned the third. It was at that moment that a keen voice rose over the fog that seemed to creep into their line of sight. A beautiful, ethereal sound that serenaded the heart and beckoned the senses. It encompassed and bounced off the walls of rocks around them, increasing in volume. Markus had never heard something that touched him so since last he was in love. The captain turned to Sketti and the scholar, Klaus looking pale with fear whilst Sketti plucked his pinky into his ear, more annoyed than anything. The Dwarf seemed not effected at all, but Markus didn't care. Markus wanted to find the source of the voice. He needed to feel the soft fingers of the sirens on his neck, their lips on his.

His system jumpstarted, and he realized his mind and heart was racing. He stammered toward the railing, holding his head to try and keep his mind from being led into the song, but he knew he couldn't fight it forever. Below him, Morgan yelled up at him, something stuffed into his ears. But Markus couldn't hear him over the singing. All other men save Morgan seemed even more enchanted than Markus. Emmaline looked curious but unaffected, and that was the last thought that passed through his mind before the elation gripped him again.

Gold & Glory: AU thread

"Sheet a jib" Markus echoed aloud, though whether he was amused or impressed at the lack of understanding, it was hard to tell. He and Morgan stood there, Markus with crossed arms as the men behind him scrambled and slipped over one another at their duties.

"I'll ask you this one last time, lad. You sure about this lass?" He asked, eyeing Markus like he had an enchantment spell cast on him by the woman. "A woman, a sorcerous one at that...bad luck."

"She's useful in unexpected ways." The captain explained, turning to his friend. When he saw Morgan's knowing look, Markus glared at him. "To the crew, not to me...Stop looking at me like that. Move, old man. These lads can't handle the boat so we'll need to till they get their wits about them."

Markus and Morgan, along with what crew were coherent sailed the rest of the day. The Captain showed he had lost none of his potency at sailing, nor had the old sea dog of a quartermaster. It was as the sun set that they turned northwest, and though they saw no pursuit, the setting sun at their fronts would blind anyone looking in their direction. Once night had engulfed the world, Mannslieb and Morrsleib were high in the sky, casting a gale of light upon the sloshing seas. Markus spent much of the night sitting in the messhall with Morgan and Sketti as the other men slept off their hangovers.

The next day, Markus awoke to find he had fallen asleep in the messhall. Not one to fret, he hopped to and whipped the lads to work without mercy. The sun, once it rose, was bright and relentless, yet the sea gave cool wind that blew strongly from the east. Markus could only hope that favored them more than any pursuit, which so far had yet to be seen. They likely weren't to see any, at least on this voyage. No one would suspect them to travel through the Fools Rocks. Once the sun was but two hours from midday, and with the wind with them, Markus began a small exercise he hadn't tried since he had begun sailing.

He took empty bottles of rum they no longer needed (and a full one for himself), and he would grab them by the neck and throw them overboard, shooting them with his pistol and shattering them to a thousand pieces before they hit the water. The men weren't startled after the first, but anyone unused to it and near would hear successive shots and the breaking of glass. It was a credit to his skills, hitting eight out of ten on his first go round, draining the last of the rum he had brought and tossing it next. He hefted his pistol and aimed as it careened toward the sea. Almost too late, he fired. The bottle broke and fell into the waves like shrapnel.

Dungeon Builder Monster Extraordinaire

@Mae I would like to incant a ritual using my INVOKE

Dungeon Builder Monster Extraordinaire

@Mae I am brainstorming on my downtime action as we speak!

Gold & Glory: AU thread

The woman tumbled bodily off of the anchor as it was hauled on board, though Markus caught her before she slammed onto the wooden deck. The captain shook his head, wiping her face with a cloth and picking the seaweed out of her hair as he muttered something she couldn't quite catch with her waterlogged ears. He hadn't the time to carry her to his cabin and leave his men, so after a moment of her regaining her strength, he asked her, "Can you stand?"

"Yes," She said.

"You're sure?"

"Yep!"

He set her on her feet and let her go. Her body swayed and her head seemed to weigh as much as the anchor before it whipped down toward the deck. Markus caught her again with a groan of effort, still injured from the previous fight. "Okay girly, let's take you over here." He told her, setting her rump-first against the deck railing of the ship so she could sit and gather her strength. She wasn't the only one loopy, and she would recover within a minute when others in the crew wouldn't. Half of them were three sheets to the wind, so all they need focus on now was making it to open ocean.

"The lot of them have been crackin' jenny's tea cup, eh?" Morgan said, the men behind him fumbling for the oars to keep rowing until they could come about and fix the sails with the wind.

"Sink me, they have." The Captain sighed, running a hand through his mane of hair. It shined even darker in the sunlight, much like his newly acquired accursed sword. He watched the sailors for a moment, but found a smile when Emmaline got to her feet and brushed her hair a bit, now a bit less disoriented from the magic and the sea.

"Where we going now, lad?" Morgan inquired, thinking two steps ahead as a good quartermaster should. "The men'll need supplies in a fortnight, so we'll need to make all speed. I suggest Araby, considering the course you plan for us."

Markus shook his head, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword as if eager to use it again. Not on Morgan, but anyone that dare approach he and his crew. "No, old friend. We're going to Tobaro, the City of Fools. Even Von Roberts and Jaego Roth wouldn't go there with those dangerous rocks. But we will."

Gold & Glory: AU thread

Markus discharged his next firearm through an opponent's stomach, the gun in question stolen from the belt of a deadman during the melee. The exit wound was as large as a kumquat, the bullet and fleshy shrapnel bursting out of the man's lower back. He gasped and sagged, Markus merely sidestepping coldly so the man's last moments of life were filled with the taste of dirt and blood in his opened mouth.

"Demon! He's a demon!" A few of the fleeing men cried, and though the remaining thugs that weren't busy with the slave guards clearly didn't have that opinion of Captain Flintbrook, they had lost their morale and paymaster and withdrew steadily. Markus picked up another pistol and aimed at a fleeing man, only for it 'click' audibly and fire not at all. He holstered it and bent down to wipe his sword, only to notice his blade was as clean as if it had been scrubbed down and dried thoroughly.

It was only then when he noticed some blood, but it was dripping down his brow from a cut he had received. Wincing, he felt something moving in his side, and gingerly he reached down to feel what it could be. His fingers touched a small bullet wound, wet, warm blood kissing his fingers. But a moment later, the pistol ball that he was sure would have been lodged at least a few inches into his body popped out and fell into his waiting hand, still slick with crimson lifeblood.

Grunting, he squared his shoulders, the cuts and bludgeoning he had received seemed to be on a quick mend, though somehow he knew they wouldn't disappear. It was the sword's blood magic. It simply had to be, and he would find out why and how later. As of now, he wouldn't question his good fortune, lest he be in the same position he had been before Emmaline had 'healed' him a week ago. Sheathing it, he turned and spotted the man Emmaline called Rajad with a bloodied sword standing beside the blonde who tried to scramble to her feet.

Despite the healing, Markus still looked a bit rough and battle-worn, though his body was hale and his eyes weren't dimmed of their cunning, dangerous light in the slightest. A quick check and he still had the coins he had been given in the selling of the dark elf arms and armor.

"Back to the ship, we'll sail as soon as we're able. We can buy provisions in the next town. We have enough for a few more weeks." He told them, stalking over the dead bodies and helping Emmaline to her feet.

Gold & Glory: AU thread

Fool enough? Markus thought sardonically, glaring daggers at Von Roberts. The man had the audacity to presume to dictate his whereabouts and with whom he pleased? The thought passed his mind far less eloquently and far more quickly, producing a scowl even before the pistols on his adversary's baldric went off. He didn't even deign to look at Emmaline as she made her 'debut' as a sartosan sorceress, which he was going to wallop her for since he had told her not to out herself as one just last night. As it stood...

The guns misfired and Von Roberts roared for his men to attack. There was a brief moment of hesitation from his men before they started to move. One who watched Markus would doubtless see the man's cunning gaze. A look a hunting cat would be jealous of. Smoothly and without hurry, he unholstered his flintlock pistol and aimed past the score of men making their way around a fruit cart to kill him and his two companions. His weapon discharged with a crack! No man fell, but a wooden stand collapsed under its own weight. Nineteen hundred pounds of wine barrels rumbled out of a weird contraption on the second floor of a surrounding structure, doubtless used as a clever way to make a tap for party goers at such celebrations such as last night. Markus had seen many things in his relatively young life, but the way four of them men had their bodies bent and twisted under the weight of a barrel falling from ten feet up was an odd sight. Three other men were tripped up from the rolling and the bodies.

Another pistol went off aimed in his direction. A member of the slow moving crowd behind Markus fell with a cry, blood pouring out of his chest. It caused the rest of the crowd to disperse rather quickly. Another three shots went off, Emmaline ducking behind spice barrels while Sketti open fired himself, breaking the legs of a man that wandered too close with his stump arm. Like as not he would have done it to even an innocent man that wandered too close, but thankfully it was an attacker that had his eyes fixed on Markus rather than the Dwarf.

It was then the men reached him, and Markus unsheathed his dark elven sword for the first time in mortal combat. He could feel the blade's thirst emanate off the weapon as he drew it, the blade even blacker under the sun than it would be in shadow, as if to spite the very light of day. Black save the red runes like veins that spread across it like roots. As he pulled it out, the movement alone sent it slicing across to take the arm off the screaming, leading man, Markus stepping past him to hack at a blade flying at his head from the next assailant. The two swords met, grey iron and black steel clanging. The pirate hadn't anticipated Markus still holding his discharged pistol within his off hand, following the slash of his sword with the pistol butt. It cracked into the head of the man, sending him to the floor.

He spun quickly with the movement, tossing his pistol to hit the third man in the chest, staggering him for a second so Markus could duel the next pirate, a surly man with one eye now milky white. He narrowly blocked a chop to the head with his hilt, taking the one eyed man's best surprise attack away from him. He pulled his blade down in a draw cut across the scalp of his opponent, inadvertently bloodying his other eye and sending him screaming back. As the wave of men crashed against him, he cut and thrust furiously, working on pure muscle memory and instinct to stay alive in the maelstrom of fists and blades.