POOHEAD189

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

"Does this happen a lot in Wissenland?" Emmaline asked worriedly, looking around with a sheepish air as Neil showed the guard his identification. The gunnery college was bustling with activity, though it wasn't flooded just yet. It seemed as though the situation of the attack and entrenchment outside hadn't quite hit the normal populace yet. The guard allowed them admittance and opened the door. Neil grabbed Emmaline and hustled her in.

"No, of course not." The thief said with a disbelieving chuckle. His eyes didn't show the usual jovialness, he was at this time all business as they moved into the stone hallway. Though even when completely serious, there was a hint of mischief about Neil. The way he moved and the subtle emotions on his face made it seem as though nothing terrible was truly going to happen. Somehow, it was to be just another day. "And we need to figure out just what is going on so we know where to stay."

"Where to stay? Not at the tower?"

"We can stay there if we're dealing with beastmen or orks. Of course we'll have to board it up anyway, but I doubt they'll swim that far. If it's something a bit more civilized, they might have some boats and reach the island."

Neil turned into a corner room, just past a bust of what had to be a famous inventor, and pulled his girlfriend inside. He told her to shut the door, and once she turned around, she saw loads and loads of guns, cartridges, munitions, mixtures, and crates. Neil began filling a napsack with seemingly whatever he could find. "I need a new knife too," he mumbled quietly.

"Well considering we just saw fiery beastman melt people, I would say chaos." Emmaline Von Morganstern deducted, picking up a strange stick contraption out of sheer curiosity, like a miniature club more fit for throwing. Neil plucked it out of her hand and stuffed it in the bag. The two theives were cruelly interrupted as the door swung open, a red haired man in a green tunic under his apron swept his gaze across the room as if searching for something before whipping his eyes back to Neil and Emmaline, though his gaze fixed on the engineer.

"Neil? What the hell are you doing in here?" He asked suspiciously, then motioned to Emmaline, eyes falling to her breasts. "And who's she?"

"Just fetching supplies for Master Urthen. What are you doing in here?" He replied, not bothering to answer the query on Emmaline. Neil raised an eyebrow, suspicious all on his own.

"Grimmin needed a count of all our munitions..." The man asked, as if questioning his own actions. Neil shook his head and patted him on the shoulder.

"Good, then you can count now that I'm done so you've got accurate calculations." he remarked, swinging his bag onto his back and moving out of there, taking Emmaline by the hand yet again. "Come on, apprentice. Let's get these to Master Urthen. Be quick about it, Heinrich! We're under siege you know!"

Corsairs of Fortune: A Sword & Sorcery RP

Rayth Garek

---

The city was awake and vibrant, if a bit lazy considering many took their lunch at this hour. Calls of commerce and social affairs filled the air as they moved southward, walking amid dealers and their wares. One pock mouthed woman hefted large melons in front of her chest in a comical attempt to draw the eye as a hefty, black haired man waved a sea bass around, shoving it into everyone's face who dared get within a dozen feet. They were truly within a stone and wood jungle of thatched roof structures, the streets tight and packed, shadows crisscrossing the ground from lines of fabric above their heads.

"Did you hear?" A voice said. "Grigor has lain siege to Tribartum."

"Katherine would love this." Another piped in. "You know how she gets about chocolate."

"The Duke said pirates murdered a watchman down Lorner Road, is that true?"

Rumors and chit chat flooded the air about them. Rayth had perfected the art of drowning out the noise whilst simultaneously nabbing any information out of the air that could be useful later. Rayth pulled her along, keeping her close. Partly because he wanted to make sure no one stole anything off of her or got any ideas, but mostly because she was gorgeous and he was far too into her for having been around her for such a short time.

They entered Markham Square, aptly named for the square shape of the courtyard, the designs on the fountain and stones beneath their feet filled with right angles and hard designs. A flock of geese aimlessly waddled, and whether they were domestic or had decided to just take a load off, they seemed used to humans. A few honks here or there accompanied them. One child tried to pet one before it bleeted and the kid ran away to his mother's skirts. Commoners, laborers, and merchants alike either hustled or lounged, there was no inbetween. Rayth decided they should lounge, and so he led Akilah over to the fountain, taking a seat beside the bubbling water. At its center, the fountain held a masterfully sculpted statue of Rán, lady of the sea.

"Well now that I have you alone," he joked. The square was sparsely populated, but there was still at least a dozen gazes passing them every few moments from the crowd. "I would be remiss if I didn't ask, where you would like to go? Or, what would you like to look at? I know where most things are in this city. Books, clothing, even scrolls for spells."

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

I think I'll wait for a bit before the discord then. Also if I post within the next few days, don't be alarmed if you haven't posted yet. The 'chosen' will arrive throughout the day. I might just move it along an hour or two.

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

Should we have a discord, or is OOC enough?

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

Neil cut the arm of a beastman, who instantly redirected its swipe in a backhand strike. Neil ducked, three hairs on his head were singed, bringing an acrid smell to the air. Neil buried his knife into the thing's abdomen, and though the act gutted it, the knife began to melt from the liquid flame running along its blade. Neil let it go before it harmed him and rolled away as the beastman fell to its knees, wheezing until it vomited up what looked to be putrid, bio-organic magma. Once he completed the roll, he uneasily got to his feet and took the gun back from Emmaline. "Thanks babe."

"Ok now, do your thing." She said, raising her hands toward him vaguely.

"My thing?"

"Yeah, the thing you were wanting to do with the silver bullet. Do it."

Neil held the gun up, shaking it. "Oh no, we should run. The silver bullet is in case we get caught in something and I want one to go down permanently."

"Oh," She said simply. They took one another's hand and sprinted away. Behind them, the Witch Hunter was dragged away by two halberdiers as the rest swarmed in, piercing the beastmen's flaming hides, butchering the main force slowly and methodically as only veteran soldiers could. Even still, dozens upon dozens of citizens littered the streets, mutilated and burned, and the beastmen moved with a brace that belied their savagery. More than a few dodged and slid their way through the guardsmen ranks and the outlying buildings.

Three followed Neil and Emmaline, seeing them as easy sport. One was unarmed, preferring to use its claws and fiery aura to slay its prey. The other two wielded swords that seemed strangely icy in quality compared to their wielders. They tried to remain quiet as they pursued, but their hoots and grunts were easily heard by the two crafty thieve, Neil turning the corner into a slim alley, thrown in disarray by overturned crates and broken wood from some previous altercation.

Neil pulled Emmaline along for twenty paces, hearing the beastmen hit the wall and bounce off it in animalistic pursuit.

"Neil!" She cried just as he spun around, leveling his pistol until his arm was parallel to the ground, steady. The monsters raced preternaturally fast, closing the distance quickly. Too quickly. But Neil simply waited the three breathes he needed to before he pulled the trigger, and the silver bullet punched through the lead one's sternum, cutting into the neck of the second one, before burying itself within the last, eating it from the inside out. They each breathed hoarsely and fell, one after the other until all lay on the ground, alighting the kindling of the alleyway in smoke and cinders.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Neil only had a cudgel, partially matted with blood from breaking the acolyte's nose. The two had tumbled onto the floor, giving Neil a nasty bump on the head but otherwise causing no real problems. He had a thick skull, anyway. His opponent did not, so he lay unconscious in the room the pilot had just walked out of. As he stepped out into the corridor, lights automatically flitted on. He glanced up at the potential, visual alarm of his progress.

"That'll cause some problems." He deadpanned, but decided he couldn't do anything about it, anyway. His vision was still a bit swimmy and his head light, the lithe scoundrel stretching his neck and rubbing it as he began to walk. He wasn't getting old, but all that time in R.I.P. space before wrestling within a normal atmosphere had weird effects on even a young human physique. Rivets of overlapping plate on the walls whistled with air as the ventilation suddenly turned on. That was surprising, considering it meant someone here could at least access some of the power, or else they had found a generator somewhere and hotwired it.

Flipping the cudgel to ascertain its weight, he felt confident it was a good enough implement to throw if someone showed up with a gun and he needed to make a quick getaway or dive. The hall was ominous in quality, every shadow holding a cultist or some xenos subterranean species to Neil's mind. The flickering lights and the fact some did not cut on as he walked by also seemed to indicate that not all the power was evenly distributed. He could fix up the place if he had the mind to, which was more than he could say about whoever was maintaining the sleeper ship.

Instead of running into a cultist again, however, one of the doors he passed by slid open when Neil's passage set off its sensors. A light suddenly poured into the gloom of the corridor, causing Neil to blink and shield his eyes.

Once his eyes adjusted, he found something he truly did not expect. It was a large, relatively well cleaned chamber, Strange mutants, half man, half machine grumbled and moved about in slow gaits. Every left eye was a grafted visor and every right hand was mechanical, with their bodies a mix and matched jumble of limbs, steel, and flesh. There were only five that he could see, and none looked his way when he peered through. Upon closer inspection, they weren't maintaining power nodes like he assumed they had been. No, they were pods. Pods with infants inside of them.

Neil squinted as he began to think, whispering to himself.

"Am I above holding a baby hostage?"

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

Apologies for not posting yet.

Something, let's say major, has happened in my life last week and I am trying to get things settled which proves quite difficult.

@Fetzen

Just do what you can, when you can, my friend.

Great posts so far by everyone! I am excite.

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

The chaos of the situation was mounting. Neil doubted they were unlimited in capacity or number, but as the beastmen that dripped flame continued to stream out of the collapsed heap of the building, he was justly concerned for the people in the near vicinity. They screamed in a wild, haunting manner as they raised black iron axes, eviscerating men and women. Dozens of commoners were burned or cut down, and even a noble with cavaliers flanking him was overrun. Three brawny mutants with flame-flecked lips brayed and leaped like mountain goats, bowling the men over and burning them to death even as they hacked their bodies apart, their iron weapons clipping the stone, parting the blood smears.

Emmaline back up a step, arm up as if to shield herself from the reality of the situation. She turned around, eyes wandering hurriedly to find Neil before she realized he was still right beside her.

"Neil, we should go." She advised him, putting a dainty hand on his arm. He didn't say a word in response. Instead he methodically loaded his custom-built black powder pistol. What guards there were within a mile began to hurry over. Some held shields emblazoned with Emmanuele's house symbol, but most had the famous Nuln-forged Halberds. They were given pause when they saw the flame radiating off them and the mutilated corpses burnt in the street, but most held their ground and made a quick formation.

"Last night was great." Neil muttered to himself, venting. "Fucked all night, had a good morning, the world felt like it was sunshine and happiness. Beautiful girlfriend, graduated as an engineer. Then this fucking place burns to the ground and we're getting fucked over by beastman? Can't I just have a good time and let it lag before we get the shit end of the stick? Is that too much to ask?"

"Neil?" Emmaline asked, bit more worriedly. She glanced left and right, from the struggle of the beastmen to Neil calmly loading his gun. "Let's go!"

"Em, please." He told her, finally meeting her in the eyes. "We'll go back as soon as we're done here. But do me a favor real quick." The scoundrel handed her his gun, letting her take it in her hands awkwardly as he took out a long knife from within his left sock. There were still a few casualties to be butchered before the beastmen not engaged with the guards would get to them, but the line of civilians was thinning. "Change the iron bullet in the gun to silver, please? Or bronze, maybe. Tin might even work. Wait, no no. Silver."

When she looked at him blankly, he just smiled and said. "Trust me."

Corsairs of Fortune: A Sword & Sorcery RP

Rayth Garek

---

"We really haven't known each other very long if you think I am an honest man." He said, eyes lidded from the sun peeking through the windows. It gave his brown eyes a caramel, almost golden quality. Strangely, despite the fact of his statement, he looked earnest. "But I won't lie to you." He admitted. "A lot of men lie to women they like. I find that never works well. I lie for money and profit, and I'll get neither from lying to you."

Rayth took her hand in his and kissed the back of it, his hold on her lingering before he swiftly changed gears, getting up with all the swagger of a cutthroat who just won a game of dice and moving out of the Tacklerock. He passed the Captain and have a curt nod. The Captain mouthed 'first thing in the morning' but he didn't need to. Rayth was punctual when it came to work, nefarious or honest. Particularly nefarious, but he'd make sure with this one as well.

Stepping out into the sun, he felt the heat on his skin. He began to plan their afternoon, trying to discern exactly where Akilah would like to go. If she was paying the tab, he was going to do something for her, particularly if it was a date. His sly mind began to churn, hand idly toying with the hilt of one of his daggers as he plotted and waited for her to come join him.

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh