POOHEAD189

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

"Well, I mean, I got blackmailed and I figure you'd want to be next in line," Neil said, shrugging. Stedder was a reasonable man, but he wasn't a very trusting one, even to someone as generally harmless as the 'thieving moonlighter' Neil. Tibs opened a door in the back and moved as stealthily as one could in stark eyesight, and Neil realized he was trying not to bother Stedder rather than be unseen by the unexpected guests. Neil wondered just how long Stedder would keep this kid around. Neil got into the thieving business by necessity, though admittedly, he learned to love it very quickly. He wondered when this kid would make the choice to make it a life or not.

"Well I appreciate it, but I don't appreciate it." Stedder said back with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Neil didn't blink at the facetious comment.

"I'm serious, Sted." Neil admitted apologetically. "I guess I could maybe offer you some...fish? We got a lot of that. I can offer you information on a certain inspector that's been snooping around. But at the end of the day, either you help me or I help him with you." Stedder opened his mouth, moving his hands as if to get a better position on his chair when he heard the telltale 'click' of Neil's pistol from behind the jacket he had taken off and placed in his lap. Stedder gave him a look that seemed half warning, half surprise. Neil raised his brows. He wasn't going to take a chance. "Wouldn't you just rather me pay you?"

Stedder's face was unreadable. He only glanced at Emmaline once, but otherwise just kept his eyes on Neil until he relaxed a long, drawn out second later. "Ok, I can see something's pushing you. You wouldn't do this, otherwise." Neil nodded, and Stedder sighed. "Ok, what do you want to know?"

"You're familiar with the gunnery college explosion, right?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah. There was a shipment of twenty tons of black powder from the Grey Mountains that disappeared a fortnight ago before the siege. It disappeared in the city." He could really use a drink, come to think of it. He loved discussing future business. Neil, however, didn't bandy words. "Where is it?"

Stedder blinked, incredulous. He looked around, as if he was being duped. "Are you serious? I'll help you with that, Sigmar's balls." Stedder laughed, shaking his head. Neil even heard a bit of his native Middenland accent in it. At Neil and Emmaline's confusion, he clarified. "I'm pretty sure it was taken by cultists, and not the well-to-do sigmarite kind."

"What?" Neil started, taken aback. "Why didn't- oh yeah." The cogs were practically moving visibly in his charming little head.

"They're in a barge. One of the ones commandeered by the countess."

"Hold on, wait. Let me guess." Neil started. "The barge came into the port and signed in as a gunpowder shipment. Since it's black powder week, they kept it on board to keep it from being mixed with the experimental ordinance. When the siege happened, they had a crooked guard-"

"Two."

"-Two crooked guards," Neil corrected, holding up two fingers. "To commandeer the vessel, kill the dockmaster in the confusion, declare the barge held other goods, and now in order to steal it, it's guarded by the very government that needs the goddamn blackpowder from right under its nose?"

Stedder's nod had Neil laughing. "Fuck!"

Video Games: The General Discussion & Community Thread Number Two

Last chance

Video Games: The General Discussion & Community Thread Number Two

I'm just gonna say let's stop rn

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

1st of Last Seed 3E 433
Kvatch Square
1:30 PM

---

"All practitioners of daedric magic are familiar with the almost impenetrable barrier between our world and Oblivion." Martin said to Beren with a gesture of his hand, the two sitting on a pew and sharing cups of tea. They had spoken for the better part of two hours now. The pilgrim had expected a holy old greybeard, but Martin, though around 4 decades old, spoke to the younger man as a peer. He had a humble, intelligent manner, and Beren did not feel worried explaining his dreams to the priest. He felt the same necessity to do so as telling a doctor the symptoms of a recurring sickness. "There are many ways the people of Tamriel view Akatosh, my friend. Auri-El of the elves, Alkosh, the One, some even say he and Alduin are one and the same. But he has spoken to the mortals more directly than any save Talos himself. Akatosh was quite clear, Oblivion cannot connect to Mundus."

"So you think they're just dreams?" Beren asked tiredly, placing his cup down on the small table they had procured. He dared not hope, and even if they were just dreams and not portents of doom, that did not solve all of his problems. He shook his head. "I've never been here in my life, Martin. The furthest west I've ever gone is the Imperial city. But my dreams showed me the way here. I could see this place in my mind and it was just as I envisioned it. How is that possible?"

"Maybe Akatosh does speak to you." Martin expressed. "And it is your fears that have conjured up this vision of fire and death. The Gods touch is rarely gentle, Beren. Perhaps he is trying to tell you something more mundane, and it has coalesced into these dreams?" He smiled, as if they had known one another for years. Martin would be an incredible public speaker or diplomat, Beren realized. His voice was sonorous and strong, but gentle. Some said similar things of Beren's, he remembered. "If Akatosh, God of Time and Endurance, does speak to you, it seems he favors you more than me! I suppose I do not blame him. I have only been a priest for a dozen years, and much of it as an acolyte."

"If they are just dreams, that doesn't help me sleep." Beren replied with a short laugh. "But I suppose I have been sleeping well. The dreams don't wake me up, but they do make my mornings shakier than I would have them, Martin."

"I'll tell you what," Martin said, placing a hand on Beren's shoulder. "I am not an alchemist, but we are required to learn the restorative arts with poultices and spells. Allow me to make you a brew." Martin rose to his feet, walking behind him and moving over to grab a cloth. "A poultice that works wonders. Brother Flavias makes them best, but he's taken a trip to the Imperial City. I'm sure mine will work for you. If these dreams are from Akatosh, it will at least calm your nerves. If they aren't, it should keep them away."

"Thank you. Where would be a good inn to stay at?"

"Well...you're free to sleep here for a few nights if you'd like. But Brominar's Room & Board might have a room, if you're lucky and want a well cooked meal. I doubt they'll have another place to sleep, but we only have ham, some cheese, stale bread and...well no, we have fresh bread now, don't we?"

Minutes later, Beren stepped outside. Martin had just begun the brew, but he said it would take hours to finish. Beren felt the hot sun on his tanned complexion and gazed around, only half a dozen dozen people were in sight, most keeping to their own business. The town truly had been sucked into the arena and the festival surrounding it, had they not? He wished he could get rid of those dreams, and the trepidation on finding out if Akatosh truly called to him was filling him with an anxiety he hadn't expected to experience. What if the God was speaking to him, and all of this was coming to an end? The warm sun now felt like a harbinger of doom, as if the very flames of it could reach out and awash Mundus in flame.

"Fuck," he breathed, lost in his anxieties. Martin had calmed him, and the temple had been a tonic for him, but now out here, he felt exposed somehow. As if Kvatch, the place of his dreams, was an entity all its own. He needed to do something. Something to knock him out of his fears and... wait.

Beren ran off, and minutes later Colyne Valcal had knocked on the great doors of the temple.

Martin stepped away from his brew, the water now close to a boil, and he opened the door for the second time that day. But he closed his mouth when he noticed the heavily armed woman, one part wariness and two parts concern on his face.

"Greetings warrior, do you require healing or absolution?" He asked her, beckoning her to come in.

---

Athrelor was busy as could be! Busy busy busy. Finished with his deliveries and heading back to the bakery to set up the mid afternoon shop for the festival! His feet pitter pattered on the ground like a small dog's tip tap toes. The bosmer skitted around one of the fences in the road, reviewing receipts of the day's purchases with a quick eye. If only he had better prepared for the day with two extra employees, he thought. Then again, he had done all the work anyway and he needn't pay anyone but Misela back at the shop, so maybe that was just the old mer in him.

As he approached the market square for the umpteenth time, across the way down another path he saw Sigrid the mystic, a pretty blonde haired nord woman who always surprised people with just how much northern grit she had. He didn't know what kind of magic she specialized in, but he did know she was a member of the mages guild in Kvatch. He never liked the mages here. He always suspected they had a way of conjuring up their own bread, though it wasn't nearly as fresh or well tended as his own superior baked goods. Sigrid was in his good books, however. The alchemist had helped give him a nice recipe for carrot cake once, and a savvy business man never forgot a partner.

Oddly enough, she had a focused look to her, walking markedly towards a gaggle of strangers who had suddenly converged at the square, looking at Kvatch as if they sought something outside of normalcy. She strode up to them, and though none of them seemed to be together, she spoke to all of them as if they had walked up to her holding hands.

"If you are looking for the arena, go to the big building that isn't the castle or the temple. You are either tourists or thieves or mages guild applicants. I would know which before I go about my day."

Arthrelor barked a laugh, but clamped his hand on his mouth before it grew too loud. The ornery mage was going to make a scene! And while normally it was entertaining, Arthrelor felt like he wanted one more win this day, and he sought to make some more potential customers. Jogging over and puffing out of his wide face, Arthrelor waved his hand like a tree branch whipping in a typhoon.

"Hail! Yes, hello friend! Yes, hi!" He called, drawing their attention. Sigrid raised an eyebrow as she regarded the baker.

"Do you have business with them, Arthrelor?" She asked, her accent as thick as her behind.

"Yes, they are my guests." He assured her, planting his hands on his hips and gazing at the strangers up and down. They were clearly travelers, but each of them had a very unique and strange look to the bosmer. Dunmer, Dunmer, Redguard, Altmer, and Imperial. Only a motley band of misfits like them would be here to see the games, and they would have the best seats in the house. "Come friends, follow me to my shop! You'll have cakes and baked goods and grand seats for the coming fights of the day. Andonlythreegoldforthepleasure but let's not discuss that now! Follow me!" He began to jog in place, before he realized they were to follow. Then he sped off like a fat, thin limbed chipmunk.

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

It had begun to snow. One of the last bits of snow before the new spring arrived. Neil would have loved it if he and Emmaline were holed up in their tower, but as it were, they were now a few blocks away from the docks, waiting out in the cold for Neil's contact to arrive. He never actually thought he would need to hail Stedder as a 'contact' rather than an drinking buddy and partial acquaintence, but here he was...

Luckily they were prepared for the cold, Neil sporting his jacket and Emmaline wrapped in a fur coat, one of the few things she had kept from her tenure as the Lady Marguritte von Vissenbach. Still, it only made the chill bearable, not comfortable. Neil saw her squirming within to get warm and he pulled her close to him, hearing her murmur in complaint.

"Don't worry, we'll be inside eating fish in no time," He told her, playfully bumping her hip with his. "Besides, this is something that needs doing."

"Didn't know you were such a Wissenland sympathizer," she joked, snuggling closer to him. It made them both warmer and more comfortable, at least for the moment. Neil blinked against the blistering wind, the day overcast, the sky grey and forlorn. If he were a bit more superstitious, he would have thought this sudden winterstorm was brought on by something daemonic. Luckily, he wasn't very superstitious, just normally-stitious.

"I'm not, love. But if this city falls, we probably will too. I'd rather they have guns to use, yeah?"

The wall opened.

It was a door of course, but it was made very much to look like a wall. Neil had known it was there, but there was another door opposite Emmaline might have thought they were waiting on. Either way, a wide faced man with the hair and mutton chops of a wild animal waved them inside. Neil and Emmaline hustled in, the spacious building, that at first glance looked to be just an entrance into a building full of apartments and business, was actually one huge floor with only a few doors leading to other, likely smaller rooms. It looked like the central room they were in was some sort of workshop for thieves. Ropes, bolts, knives, as many pieces of equipment as one might manage was set up and laid out as if for sale or display. There were a few chairs to sit in, and two Dwarfs rifled around, carrying sacks of what was likely contraband and moving supplies from point a to b.

"You've picked a hell of a time to see me, Neil. I'm about to be busy as hell when shit hits the fan," Stedder said, pulling at his collar, glancing at the Dwarfs. They looked like brothers, brown bearded and wearing matching outfits. "At least, I think. You never know in a siege. And who the hell is-"

Emmaline gently pulled her hood off of her face, and the man blanched like Neil had just brought in a cultist of tzeentch. He pulled Neil aside, but still so close Emmaline could hear regardless. "You brought a woman into my headquarters!?"

"This woman can outthief most cock-havers in the city, numbnuts." Neil replied, poking him in the chest with his finger. "She's a thief too, and I want information. Tell me where the gunpowder was stolen and by who, or I'll have to tell a few inspectors about your little outfit here."

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

Neil blinked in surprise when Emmaline walked over with a huge, curved basket filled with dead fish. They didn't smell like flowers, but they hadn't yet started to truly stink as of yet. He had let her in through the left side of the double door entrance, having already plugged up the right one. He had done a remarkable amount of work in a short amount of time. It seemed Neil's time as an engineer helped him be generally competent with tools, either that or he had a background in carpentry or construction. He had stopped hammering a nail on the carefully laid boards along the only two windows below and tilted his head, much like a confused dog.

"Babe, we've still got plenty of food but..." He began, before he realized that they would need all the sustenance they could get over the next few months. He shrugged, smiling at her. There was something close to love in his eyes. "Guess we're having fish tonight." He walked over to help her carry it, unburdening her with the weight and carrying it over to the casks and barrels. He stepped over a pile of timber he had procured from the small basement below nimbly, but he jerked to the side, two fish plopping onto the stone heavily. There had been a voice behind them.

From outside.

Emmaline made a gesture that he assumed was arcane. Neil put the basket down, dropped the two fish back into the basket, and grabbed the hochland rifle leaning against one of the utility shelves.

"Bar the door," he told her, placing his left hand on the barrel as he hustled up stairs, racing to the second floor and the lower balcony. He and Emmaline were usually at the top floor where the bed was, but this room too had a fireplace and a few lumpy chairs, though it was more or less abandoned, with cupboards tossed to their sides and a broken desk left on the floor. Neil nearly tripped over it but caught himself with a small jump and made it to the balcony, opening the door and placing his hochland rifle on the balustrade.

Before him was a man, wearing a nondescript coat and a wide brimmed hat, but he held no weapons or showed any sign of movement or surprise. He wasn't the witch hunter they had seen the last few weeks, but he did bear a brooch of some considerable worth, and Neil thought he spied a sigil on there he didn't recognize. The twin comets were easy to identify, but the fiery heart was not. Neil made sure to aim left of it, at his heart.

They waited there, seemingly at an impass for a few moments. Neil decided he was too curious to play that game.

"Hi, can you state your name, please?"

"Neil Edwards," He said, making the thief rock back on his heels. Neil took a moment, then made a 'hm' sound from deep in his throat.

"Interesting, are we related?"

"You are Neil Edwards." He said, and Neil saw he bore a pair of spectacles on his face, resting on his robust nose. "Formerly an engineering apprentice, recently pronounced dead and resurrected, graduate of the gunnery college, and known criminal. I am Inspector Leizbauhnor. We have been watching you for some time."

"Well, Inspector, you're not making a good case for why I shouldn't shoot you, just in case you were wondering." He said, matter-of-fact. Neil was now intensely curious, but he meant it. If people were following him, his first instinct was to eliminate any and all who were doing it. He then realized how very dark that was, but he guessed he had a criminal girlfriend to take care of now. "What is it exactly that you want?"

"Just your cooperation in acquiring some goods for the order. You wouldn't want Heinriech to find out miss Von Morganstern could be a potential apostate, nor would you want to be evicted from your...home?" He asked, then chuckled. The inspector raised an eyebrow as he appraised the makeshift structure. "You do realize people were going to show up eventually to use it again, right?"

"I was planning on being gone by the summer." Neil replied, reiterating the man's proposal in his head. "Are you saying we could stay here legally?"

"Not strictly, but we won't bother you and make sure no one else does, either."

Neil was certain this inspector and his bureau or whomever, wasn't as omnipresent as he would have liked Neil to believe. He likely had a few well trained men or women posted in certain areas to give back information on his whereabouts and likely was only privvy to Neil's vagueries. But even that was a bit much for Neil, and the young man sighed.

"Why do you need me? Aren't you busy with rooting out those Chaos weirdos?"

"We need you because we need a criminal or two, to help us out in rooting out another. And we need it to help with the 'Chaos weirdos.'" He said, and laid out his terms. Neil had to go downstairs and tell Emmaline that tomorrow they would steal some stolen gunpowder back from one of Nuln's syndicates.

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

Working on a post now. I'll see if we can get everyone to post before I send it. Also great posts everyone!

P.S. I posted a neat interactive Oblivion map in the beginning OOC post.

[1x1 RPs] How much should a character do in a post?

As unhelpful as it is to say, it really depends on your partner. I wouldn't generally move someone else's character, but if my partner let's it happen then call me the puppet master.

Oblivion: Wrath of Akatosh

Yo sorry that took me a while, I didn't quite know what I wanted to do as an intro, thought I'd give a bit of context as to the exact kind of piece of shit Gav is lol

@Kassarock

You did well, my son.

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

"What do we do!?" Emmaline gasped as she was pulled along.

"Nothing! I'm just glad we got our shit!" Neil cried as he hustled them out of there, even picking Emmaline up in a heroic scoop as he ran. Neil was fit, but it was still a strange sight seeing a slim man carrying a few dozen pounds of ordinance and his buxom girlfriend out of the smoke of a partially collapsed gunnery school. Neil just knew the authorities would be sweeping in soon and they would turn his misdemeanor into a felony now that the explosion had ruined much of the city's powder. The last of the stone had stopped falling or rolling, leaving cries of desperation and likely a few bodies to be picked at within the next hour.

A mile away, Neil finally let Emmaline down as gentlemanly as he could and heaved a lungful of air. Wearily he leaned against a wall just as cannons cracked and roared on the walls. A beggar ran across the now empty street, a bundle of carrots in his arms and a cat on his shoulder. Other than that fellow, Neil would have believed Nuln was deserted. Regaining himself, Neil hacked a small cough and began to jog again, looking back at Emmaline as she hustled to catch up. She seemed two parts fearful and one part uncomfortable with the exertion. He had to laugh quietly to himself. They were likely going to be inside for a long period of time, it was good to get her exercise, he thought to himself wryly.

They made it to the pier soon after, turning past the maelstrom of activity as barges were being commandeered for military service and others were being hastily roped up so they could flee before the authorities or chaos caught them. Luckily the longboat they took wasn't going to be in anyone's way or wake judging by the flow of the Aver. Neil and Emmaline found the longboat and leaped it, and though the engineer was constantly afraid some chaos spawned terror from beneath would rise up and snatch their veritable dingy, they made it over safe and sound.

Within the confines of their tower, Neil put his sack down and frantically began throwing things as he looked for tools and unused timber.

"Ok uh... you go up top and keep an eye out." He said, nabbing a hammer and slinging it into his belt loop. "See if you can see them from across the river, or if there's anything weird happening. I'll start boarding up everything so we don't have to worry about plunderers in the night."