POOHEAD189

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

"Especially considering a got a few as well," He said, producing around a dozen coins in his hand, dropping them in the hat with satisfying 'plunks' in the pile. They would count them when they got back, which outta keep Emmaline busy while Neil set up the place for his surprise for her. Glancing up at the sky, the weather was growing less overcast, a swift sunrise of red appeared on the horizon, showing it was mid afternoon.

As the crew of the barge suddenly began to shout with alarm hundreds of meters away, Neil and Emmaline made their way slowly back to the island, Neil trying to keep both the images of Emmaline's chest and the gold next to it out of his mind for at least a bit longer...

Two hours later, the sun began to dip behind the spires of the palace, the two moons of the world idle in the ever darkening sky. Having used a few coins to buy the best vodka he could find, Neil had set up the tower to prepare. Ham, cheese, wheat bread, vodka, water, and even a few grapes and berries had been procured by the entrepreneurial thief, giving Emmaline ample time to count the coins over and over and over again and sip the last of the spirits from the other night. The guns had gone silent an hour ago, but that did little to clear the river. Strangely the skiffs and longboats still swayed in the surf and flowing water, though Nuln patrols had started sailing out there, Neil having heard from a fishwife they were searching the boats for a culprit of what was supposedly a gold theft, not that they knew anything about that. Now as the sun began to truly disappear, Neil brought Emmaline to the top of the tower, pushing a couch audibly toward the opening of the balcony, the wooden pegs screeching across the floor as he did so. He looked like an unkempt waiter moving all the food and drinks on one tray, setting them down on the table with an impressive balance. Finally satisfied, he plopped down on the couch and patted the cushion next to him, the girl thief sitting down and both of them began to pluck bits of the food off the table and drink a bit of the alcohol. After a few minutes, Neil grabbed a piece of fabric he had procured and began ripping it into four pieces.

"So what's this surprise you have for me...?" Emmaline asked, even as Neil pushed a piece of balled up fabric into her ears, and then into his own ears. "_{Neil, are you listening? What are you doing?}"

Without warning, a bomb detonated.

No, it only seemed that way. A sudden cascade of incandescent colors radiated across their vision. Missiles of fire shot up before them not forty paces away, emitting more booms, rapidly erupting like the bang at the beginning of creation, popping and roaring. There were moments where they could feel the wind from the explosions, multi-colored sparks hitting the balcony. With their ears stuffed, they didn't receive any hearing damage. But it was loud and intense, brightening the low-lit room with every firework launched. Neil looked engrossed, popping grapes into his mouth. Before them, the gold glinted with the myriad of detonations reflecting off their shining bodies. It seemed to last forever; a few times teasing them with a long pause before an even larger explosion of colors, before the largest launch occurred. One firework exploded into the likeness of a golden hammer, just as another became a roaring red dragon, and still the last was a great eagle of flame, dissipating moments later as golden specks fell into the river for all to see.

Neil beamed, looking to Emmaline to see if she enjoyed it as much as he. He pulled a bit of fabric from her closest ear. "How'd you like it?"

There's Always a Price: Sci Fi Bounty Hunters

"I see you did not explain to her that respect goes a very long way in my presence," Volkavax warned, his words for Dirk but his eyes narrowing to cat-like slits as he glared at Jocasta. Interestingly, Jocasta would feel a psychic presence coming from the boss, showcasing he too could dominate wills or read minds, potentially. Depending on how strong of mind the victim was. Dirk's face was unreadable behind his mask, and when he said nothing, Volkavax snorted like a bull.

"Yes, business... you have brought the body of Chalnarc?" Even as he spoke, inspectors with bionic eyes attached to visors welded their heads approached, checking the encasement to make certain the individual inside was who they had intended to find. A moment passed, and their visors blinked green, giving off binary codes to confirm the bounty. The purple tongue snaked out of Volkavax's great maw and slithered about its snout to showcase just how pleased he was. "Mephisto Sabre will be overjoyed we have brought his old business partner to justice. Very good, Crimson, as usual. However, I will not grant any more funds to give both you and your...partner, a full share."

The old Dirk Crimson would have turned and shot Jocasta without pause, solving the problem right then and there. But he was getting soft, he supposed. The talks of 'honor' he had received as a child had begun to creep back into his head as of late, and he had given her his word they would split it. "Just wire the funds to me, and I'll give her half." He said in no uncertain terms. "Tell Mephisto if he has anything else for us, just say the word. Always ready to do someone else's dirty work for them."

"Looking for more work already?" The xenos snickered; a terrible sound to human ears. His underlings laughed with him, else they might find disfavor. Even the girls giggled. "There will be a bounty board set up by the planet's next cycle. Relax and take a load off, my friend. Go and enjoy some drinks on me, for a job well done. You have earned your place here at my side, and if she is worthy of your company, then she may walk freely as well."

Dirk gave a nod, though whether of acknowledgement or thanks it was hard to tell. Gesturing for Jocasta to follow, he turned and walked out, checking his cryptopad to find he had another 20,000 galactic units in his account. As soon as the two of them found a table, he would wire the money over.

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

The man clearly wasn't the most erudite fellow in the world, but it seemed as if he was no stranger to what he thought he was about to do. He placed the baton under Emmaline's chin as he unbuckled his belt with his free hand, grinning like a panting dog. To her eyes, she could see his face looming above her, before something else rose out from behind him. The butt of a rifle, it looked like? The next moment, there was a 'crack' as Neil's rifle banged the man atop the head with such force there was no way he could still be conscious, and maybe even alive. He fell to the ground like a poleaxed ox, and before her now stood the much slimmer and far more charming Neil.

"We should go," he deadpanned, and his eyes caught the butt of the fellow's pistol. He let out a soft 'ooo' before dropping down to collect the weapon. It likely wasn't as well crafted as his own, but who couldn't use more guns? Slipping it into his belt, he looked at her and saw she was loathe to leave, and he laughed. "Babe, we can't spend any of the gold if we're dead or imprisoned, we need to get the fuck out of here."

Once the two stepped out onto the deck, the imperial guns still boomed in the distance, now almost every moment. The gunnery school was beginning to show off, as always trying desperately to prove they required even more funding from the good countess. As much as he wanted to be near the gunpowder, this was a pretty good substitute, particularly with such a fun partner. They found their grappling hook, still biting into the wood just beside the storage room.

"You first," Neil told her, dropping the hochland rifle into the skiff and drawing out the loaded pistol, leaning against the railing so as to appear casual. Emmaline didn't have to be told twice, shimmying down with the rope as carefully as she could. But then Ranald saw fit to make another joke, it seemed. Her foot slipped, soft body thumping against the side as coin after coin spilled out of her bodice like an avalanche, plopping into the dark water one by one! She gaped and let go of the rope, hitting the boat with an 'oof' to save the rest of the coins despite the rough landing. Neil heard the commotion and peered over, worry finally evident in his normally carefree demeanor.

"You ok?" He asked. Hurriedly, he retrieved the hook and slid both his feet over the railing, landing far more gracefully into the boat beside her, the structure wobbling precariously but finding its balance as Neil kicked away from the treasure ship, shoving the side of it with his feet to give them an outward trajectory. Immediately he went to check on her, and to his surprise she seemed to be relatively unharmed save for a bruise here or there.

Blades of the Blood Coast

I return to this...this...insurrection!

Blades of the Blood Coast

I am not planning on the party getting bigger, believe me. Also, there will be a post for everyone in 48 hours!

Shields of the Empire

Brasidas, flanked by his two most trusted Cataphracts, showed open disdain for the manner the envoy carried himself. Slavery was not unknown to the Empire, but it was more of what one might call indentured servitude, and it had been outlawed in most provinces for decades. No one, slave or citizen, would be subject to such abasement as what they saw there. However, the news itself was what shocked Brasidas more. He barked a harsh laugh.

"If you want to negotiate, take my advice and keep with reality, Atvari." He scoffed, smirking. "Alpharius does not sit on any throne, much less the throne in Sidris. We serve his Imperial Majesty Andronikas, sixth of his name."

The envoy did not seem perturbed at Brasidas's words. In fact he looked a bit smug, though it was hard to tell behind his beard and regalia. All the Imperials gave looks to one another as he next spoke. "You and your men have been away from the capital for many months, Imperial. Much has changed you will find, had you ever returned. Unfortunately, that will not happen for you or your women soldiers." He pulled the reins of his mount as the horse whinnied and stomped forward, as if it had the arrogance of its master. "Now, I say again. You and your armies can find salvation in servitude for our Great King, or you can find your doom amongst the desert sands. It would be a shame to waste so many fighting men, and your women will serve us well in other ways don't doubt. Now, will you make the wise decision? You Imperials pride yourself on your logic, I suggest you employ it while you still breathe."

Brasidas's visage did not seem to change, but somehow it grew into a black look. His men beside him grew restless, and Brasidas could see Phaedra was about as pleased as he was with these claims.

"Well, you give us much to think on." Brasidas remarked dryly, and had the envoy had any sense, he would have ridden away right then and yelled apologies the entire ride back. But it seems he was not used to either Brasidas or Phaedra.

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

Neil vaulted over the ship railing and landed with ne'er a sound, as if the floorboards of the treasure ship owed him a favor. Emmaline was a bit clumsier, tripping over the side and nearly faceplanting had Neil not caught her, but all in all it was a successful landing. Neil pursed his lips and the two of them received a fine view of the river reik, the hundreds of boats floating listlessly among the soft current.

Suddenly, rhythmic footsteps were heard from behind them, accompanied by a whistle as a sentry approached. Neil placed his hand over Emmaline's mouth and yanked her into a room, softly closing the door behind them just as the guard made his rounds, none the wiser walking past them. Neil turned and saw it would be a secondary munitions room in any other ship, but instead it was another small place to keep barrels of supplies for future expeditions down the reik. Barrels of what looked to be apples, dates, and alcohol were stacked next to one another, though the area was hardly larger than a foyer.

Neil stood by the door, peeking out until he was certain the coast was clear. "Come on," he whispered to his latest partner in crime. Well, she was also the first in many years, if he was honest with himself. Both of them stepped out, Emmaline having apprehended an apple, already chewing on a fair chunk of it.

The two walked toward the stern, seeing the backs of some of the guards as they watched the booming display from across the harbor. Once they arrived to the cargo doors, a sentry stepped out beside them, but comically he turned the opposite way, having not even glanced toward the doors. Neil spied something, reaching over to the fellow's belt nonchalantly, as if he hadn't a care in the world! Neil then opened the door and bowed before entering, allowing the lady to waltz in past him like a true gentleman. Once they were both inside, they saw chest after chest, locked and reinforced with iron and thick timber. Neil knelt beside one, producing a key.

"You didn't get that just before we got in here..." She marveled.

"Sometimes Ranald has a sense of humor I can agree with." He shrugged, and he shimmied his key into the lock he sat before, Emmaline wiggling in excitement as it opened with a 'click'. The rogue grinned, grabbing the bottom of the top lid and lifting it up to reveal a mouth watering pile of gold coins, riekland minted. Neil gave a low whistle as Emmaline's mouth began to water. Neil ran his hand into the pile and grabbed as many as he could, shoving it in his pocket.

"Take as much as you want," Neil said. "In fact, you take what we can get and I'll go check to see if the coast is clear." The young man eyed the door opposite of where they had entered. It was smaller but made of mahogany rather than yew or oak. Despite his words, he made for that door instead, unable to help his curiosity. As Emmaline dug into the pile like a digging hound, Neil quietly opened the door and suddenly understood this was a side entrance to someone's office. The Captain or another high ranking official, he didn't know. There was a smart desk, framed by a cupboard of books and drawers of what he couldn't guess. But it was the weapon next to the cushioned chair that caught his eye.

"A hochland rifle," he marveled, stepping in to take the weapon, slowly flipping it to admire the firearms's entirety.

Shields of the Empire

"Agra would be at least four days march through the desert sands," Brasidas thought aloud. "We may have enough of a baggage train to collect sufficient water from the river here, but if we are caught in a sandstorm or delayed, it could spell doom for more than a few of us. In those conditions we might want the satrap to catch us. We either die or take their supplies if we push them back."

"I know of a few small places we could camp if we took that road," Sayf added, winking at the women. "There are a few watering holes and some dry riverbeds that catches water if it rains, as unlikely as that is. I doubt the satrap would follow us there unless they are starved for glory."

"He may very well be," Brasidas said.

"My men need rest, Protos Kapetanos," Tychon interjected. He couldn't fit on one of the chairs, so he had taken a bench and carried it in, keeping his head down the entire time until he sat. The giant took two men's spaces even sitting down. "We've been here all but the morning after seven days hard march. They'll need at least a day to sleep and recoup, preferably two... Unless you order it, of course."

As Phaedra said, if they wait then going south was the only option. As round about of a way as it was. Brasidas also had the suspicion that the north wouldn't be as easy of a road as they hoped. If anything, the locals wouldn't be enthused that Georgicus and Tychon spent days there, and then another large force rode in and demanded supplies.

"South it is, or that is my say." Brasidas remarked, his chiseled features grim. He glanced at his men, and then at Phaedra and Eudoxia. It wasn't the most ideal situation, but they all still needed some rest, and Brasidas wasn't too intimidated by the hard march, considering he had been in this country for months already. Plus, if they fled with the satrap at their heels, maybe the Atvari would be a bit too preoccupied to focus on Arbela.

"What say you, Protos Kapetanos?"

Shields of the Empire

"Who leads here now?" Tychon inquired, leaving Demaratus to lead the men to camp before Arbela as Brasidas, Tychon, and Sayf galloped back to the front of the township where Brasidas spied Phaedra rode to. The Protos Kapetanos saw the pyres of her dead still burning brightly, and to the south his own dead were being interred. Some were burned, but others were buried under small cairns, as was the Boreas way.

"No one. Both the Miravet leader and I are Protos Kapetanos, so until we find someone higher rank we'll have to agree or debate on everything." Brasidas said with a shrug.

"Do we not have the larger force?"

Brasidas gave him a look. "They might be small, but they are soldiers same as us. The women made a good accounting of themselves yesterday, from what little I saw. If she and I have the same rank, we are equals. Besides, I'd rather follow her than Georgicus. At least she is loyal and fights her own battles."

"As you say, but I am still worried, Brass." Tychon said as Sayf rode ahead. It was clear he wanted to meet with Phaedra first. "We received an envoy a week ago. An envoy of the Great King."

Brasidas did a double take. "Why did you not say this before?"

"I wanted to when I had you alone." Tychon explained. "They were trying to hire us, saying something about fighting a losing war. Last I checked we were invading them, not the other way around. I sent them home and made it for Arbela with all speed."

Ahead, Brasidas saw Sayf and Phaedra conversing, the nomad making whimsical gestures with his hands in a no doubt ineffective way to woo her. The two commanders reached them not moments later, Brasidas giving Phaedra a nod in greeting, and gestured to Tychon. He was even larger up close, sporting a goatee that would be a full beard on any other man. He had no weapons with him, as they would be a bit too heavy to fit on his horse. Behind them, the army went to set up camp as runners headed up the slope to the town.

"Kapetanos Phaedra, this is Tychon. My second." He introduced, and then spoke to his old friend. "Tyke, tell her everything you were going to tell me. She needs to hear it as much as I."

Shields of the Empire

The next day...

The Sunrise came with its expected heat, but it also brought something Brasidas wasn't expecting for twenty four hours. The Protos Kapetanos had finally slept after two days of hard fighting, going to bed shortly after the meeting the previous night. He had gotten the feeling it wasn't generally how the miravets did things, but like it or not he had to make some sort of show of it. These people had been subjected to weeks of fighting and to have their saviors tear down their homes wasn't something he could abide. He just hoped the Satrap would be gentle with them once they left, which they would do as soon as Tychon appeared.

Brasidas was in the middle of a good dream. A dream where he hunted a wolf in the Boreas mountains. It wasn't until later that afternoon that he would think back, and realize it had been a memory of his youth. As it was, Brasidas was shaken awake. Groggily blinking, his vision cleared and he was looking into the smiling face of Sayf the nomad, showcasing his famously bad breath that could wilt flowers and cause even hardened soldiers to cry. Brasidas coughed. "Gods damn you, Sayf! What the hell are you doing here?"

"I just thought you would like to know the big one is here." He said innocently, leaping back before Brasidas could swipe at him with a large fist. The Protos Kapetanos blinked and rubbed his eyes, before his mind jumped to the only conclusion there was. Tychon here, now? That was fast. The sun peeked through the windows in the room, but it was still quite angled, signifying the day was still very early. Considering he had fallen asleep just after dark, he had a full night's sleep. Hopefully the rest of the men and women did.

Sayf and he stepped out of the commandeered home and onto the street, saluting the sentries set to guard him before they both mounted. Menelaus knickered, Brasidas smiling and patting his trusted steed before they kicked their mounts off and galloped towards the front gate, Sayf leading with his smaller mare. Many of the soldiers were still asleep, but the two could see some having already stirred and going about their duties. Once he made it to the edge of Arbela, he saw Phaedra and Eudoxia among a few other women, and pyres stacked up in great mounds along the flat ground below the slope, the fires just now beginning to burn as the bodies were stacked upon them. Brasidas saluted Phaedra when she looked his way, but otherwise they went about their own duties.

To the north, a column marched like some fat snake over the land, rounding some of the deserted farmhouses a scant few miles away and making steady progress their way. The Commander and his nomad companion sent their horses down the decline, racing past the shrubs and fields of wheat and barley until they made it to the column of marching soldiers. At the vanguard of the line were the cataphracts, and at their fore was Tychon.

"Brass!" Tychon called, his voice booming as the two rode up to him as he sent his horse forward. The beast was two hands taller than Menelaus, and it needed to be to carry Tychon. They said his family were descended from mountain giants. Tychon was the largest man Brasidas had even seen, close to nine feet in height and with a personality to match. He was as loyal as a hound and as fierce in battle as a lion. "Did we miss the fun?"

"There's plenty more fun to be had, Tyke, unless I miss my guess." He said to his friend once they met on the road. They made quite the group; Sayf the small, Brasidas the tall, and Tychon the giant. "How did you get here so fast?"

Tychon shook his head. "We didn't end up staying at Valkos. We had to move. We heard Georgicus had disappeared." He explained to Brasidas, and then glanced passed his friend. "Are those miravet warrior women?" He seemed confused, and Brasidas laughed.

"Yes, old friend. So be nice."