POOHEAD189

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

When Emmaline stepped in, she had nearly caught me in a state of undress. I had just slid my trousers on, and she just saw a glimpse of my hardened abdomen as I slid on my dark dress shirt. I rolled the sleeves up stylishly, looking in the mirror as I fixed my collar. I knew she was in the room, but I didn't focus on her until I saw the woman in the mirror. Immediately my heart skipped a beat and I wondered how she was always so immaculate looking. She was smiling, and I couldn't help but return with one of my own.

I turned and walked up to her, holding my arms out for her to examine. My clothing was dark in order to keep a low profile, but it handsomely fit my form and looked fashionable enough to keep anyone from thinking I was doing something other than taking a casual stroll.

"Very handsome," she said as she smoothed one of my sleeves and tugged at my collar. I was about to speak before she pulled me down for a hungry kiss. It made me not want to leave.

"With that seal of approval, I believe I'll take my chances," I said, and we held each other's gazes for a few seconds longer than mere comrades would before I pulled myself away and stepped out into the central room. The two barbarians were in the midst of their game, but Urien had known me long enough to know the various ways I carried myself. He granted me a salute and I returned the gesture before walking out into the corridors of the Ignatius manor.

The house was large, but I had a fine memory and retraced our steps from the tour we had been given just a few hours ago. I passed by two dinner guests and made pleasantries as they each made their way back to their respective rooms, and gave a greeting to one of the servants, but as I descended stairs, the rooms were less filled with light. Some were entirely dark whilst others were dimmed, though the foyer and main halls were likely perpetually lit. I felt it in the air and grew more cautious, finally finding my way back to the hall where I knew the door lay. As I approached it, I heard a voice behind me tell me to stop. I turned and saw one of Julius's militiamen eyeing me curiously.

"What do you do here, my lord?" He asked.

"Oh, I'm just a curious sort. I figured there was a gaming room down here. I'm a betting man, you see." I said shamelessly. He did not seem convinced.

"Sir, the upstairs is for guests or those who are about to leave."

"You did not see me," I said to him firmly, using my will. His face crumpled up as his mind was twisted into my point of view, and he nodded in agreement. He turned around and walked away. I reverted my gaze back to the door until I heard a bland 'I didn't see him,' from his mouth and whipped around to see another man in uniform step into the hall, looking between his comrade and myself.

This man was smarter. He would not say anything to me without his weapon out. I didn't let him get that far. As his posture shifted, I lunged at him. He reached for his gun and pulled it clear of his holster, but he never got a shot off. I pushed against his hand that went for the gun with my offhand as I used my left hand to chop him in his exposed neck. The man's eyes popped out like he was thrown into the void of space, and with a quick tug at his shirt, he sent his head down to crack into the hallway table, knocking him out cold. With Emmaline and the two feral worlders backing me up, if he remembered what happened to him, my alibi should be sufficient, at least at face value. The Lord and Lady admittedly knew I wasn't to be trusted.

I searched the militia's pockets, finding a half empty bottle of amasec. I popped the top and poured the rest out in a potted plant before placing the empty bottle in his hand as added insurance. With that done, I could proceed.

I picked the lock on the door swiftly, opening the small gateway to show a long stairway descending down a hall of stone. I looked behind me, and then moved downwards cautiously. The air smelled somewhat dank, but not wholly unfresh. The stairway was used often enough, it seemed. No lights above me, the only source was at the bottom. I wanted to draw my pistol, having left my staff with Urien and my sword with Lazarus, but no. I needed to be as discreet as possible. Once I reached the bottom, I swiftly changed my opinion.

To many it would have the look of a storage facility, a wide hall with varying industrial rooms with no doors to close between areas. Boxes of unknown contents, likely items the Ignatius family shipped filled at least four of the relatively spacious rooms. The building had the feeling of being just the tip of its potential area, the corridor ending in large doors that were built for a hangar or a high end warehouse facility. As I made my way further in, every opening had a marking on the wall spread in blood. The same terrible marking I had found on that heretic on Tallarn. I curled my lip in disgust, and nearly stumbled into the planning room. I would have if Ignatius hadn't spoken up.

"-will have it before the week is out." He said. "There's little to worry about. Even the Imperial Navy couldn't halt us now."

The next voice was a voice that was filled with malice and unreal power. I had heard it before as well. Every word was a promise. Every pause was a weight you would hold forever. I had never heard such hatred from anything save a true daemon.

"There will be no paltry navy. Tzeentch has shown me the true ending of these matters. The key will find us as I have told you, Julius," Bahometus said. I could barely keep my rage from taking over. Bahometus had not killed my mentor, but without him, Hykophan would never have been there to pull that trigger. It was all the sorcerer's plot.

"How fortuitous it is, then, that we have found a few peculiars to-"

I stepped out into the doorway, my gun aimed at the two. Tall Ignatius and Bahometus swathed in robes of purple felcloth, feathers, and what I imagined human skin stood over a hologram of the Segmentun Tempestus, Moldar on display with red highlights around the ring-like city walls across the beautiful world. I didn't speak, instead shooting the power supply to the hologram. It sputtered to nothing. Ignatius seemed surprised, but he quickly took stock of himself. Bahometus was unreadable behind his warp-spawn mask.

"Officer, how nice of you to join us," Julius said theatrically. He looked at me with his usual arrogance, but when his companion did nothing to me, he glanced at Bahometus.

"This one has more than bullets to use," The sorcerer warned. I smiled ruefully.

"Holding heretical meetings at your place of residence, Ignatius. How stupid can one be?" I asked him, no humor in my voice. My eyes held death.

"Speak for yourself, officer. I knew young men often have a weakness for a pair of tits, but you did not catch me as the type of man to be blinded by a woman, as delectacle as yours is. She isn't what you seem to think."

I grinned, about to tell him she wasn't what he believed either. But instead, I felt an intense flash of pain, and darkness took me. Vaguely I was aware of falling, and it wasnt until later I realized I had been knocked out for several hours. I had a few more bruises when I woke up, and during interrogation days later I was informed I had awoken briefly as they were moving me and I managed to break a leg and dislocate an arm before I was beaten into submission.

---

I was aware or shackles on my hands, my arms feeling pulled into aching tautness and my body felt wholly unwell. Slowly my eyes adjusted to the light of the room, a very large room that held a strange device in the center. A device that looked partway between an energy pylon and a plasma generator, and something else that felt wholly alien. Next to me, I was chained with Urien and Bolskar, both looking worse for wear and bruised.

"Ah, you're finally awake, along with these thieves here," I heard. Standing before me were various people, including Bahometus and Julius along with his sister. I looked around for Emmaline...

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

I went through a myriad of emotions during our embrace. When on the job I tend to be as single-minded as a hound, and her kiss took me off guard. It was a surprising albeit pleasant experience, and after a few moments as we sank to the ground, I vaguely had the inkling this was a front for something, though I suspect we both enjoyed it regardless. However, when her thoughts coursed through my mind, I fumbled a bit and nearly pushed her off of me. I didn't have the mind to consider what she said for a brief few moments, and the contrast between the intimate embrace and heretical business threw me for a moment. I had to remind myself that she would not be telling me this if she was as she claimed to them, and relaxed, my anxieties draining for the moment. I could tell she was nervous, as well.

Interesting, I thought before her. I'm unsure as to why they would assume that of you, but telling me was the right thing to do. Perhaps we can use this, if you don't mind a little more subterfuge.

Urien and Bolskar would be getting antsy soon, and eyes were everywhere. I needed to gather my thoughts, and did so with the will I could still muster.

In an hour, I'm going down into the locked gate we saw mid-afternoon, I remarked, referring to one of the doors that Julius had tried to usher us past quickly. It was at the base of the house, and I bet it fed into the mountain's core. If you could distract them for a time, I could get some answers. The Ignatius house is the seat of some conspiracy, but if I called in support and exposed myself, the rats would flee. We can finish this tonight, if you wouldn't mind humoring me a bit more.

Gently I pushed myself up, smelling the night air. I knew I was about to delve into something dangerous, and one always had a strange appreciation for things before the plunge. The scent of the ferns, the crispness of the mountain breeze. As Emmaline began to get to her feet, I pulled her down and kissed her again, more deeply than before. There was a lot to the kiss, and this time I suspect I surprised her.

What was that? She asked whimsically.

In case things go south, I told her. I had no idea just how true that was.

Sails and Spells

On the one hand, shivering in water that was slowly being diluted with blood did not do wonders for one's libido. On the other hand, Malcador was not necessarily like most men. Horror mixed with arousal was an unplanned for and strange, but an oddly compelling feeling. He could feel his heart pumping, and evidently it was working double time to send a lot of blood to another part of his anatomy. The fluttering lashes and the swell of their bosoms were a welcome sight to the overworked sorcerer. Normally he was suave enough to charm the girls without needing to think on it, but pledging himself to a pirate crew?

Well, he guessed it beat dying, and the benefits...

"Yes!" He cried, raising his hand like a boy that was called on at the academy of sorcerers. No no no, don't be too eager. Women can smell eagerness. He cleared his throat, regaining a bit of his dignity. "I mean, I would be honored to be including in such an auspicious crew. You are too kind, Captain."

He didn't know anyone's names yet, but that could come later. Instead, he waved whoever wished to follow to join him in the water. His spell would last roughly another minute, but it was honestly close enough to swim without needing the likes of a spell. He just liked to have it for insurance. Malcador was 'aesthetically' fit, as in, he was lean and trim of muscle and could be athletic when he needed to be, such as when he was required to swim swiftly. However, he wasn't 'functionally strong.' Get him to haul crates or pull men up from the water and he would be exhausted pretty soon after the experience.

Oddly enough, he didn't have that same problem in bed.

"Also, I am called Malcador Ravenwood. I am an adept of the Mythrim Tethir." He replied auspiciously. "I would bow before my new crew, but I don't want to slap my face into the water. Plus there's treasure to gather, ladies. Shall we go?"

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Later that evening, after being escorted about the house and its surrounding lands, as well as being given a quick look at our guest quarters, we were humbly invited to dinner. Urien and Bolskar had been left out and given food within the central room of our quarters, and I had the feeling they wanted me gone as well. However, Julius and his sister seemed less bemused at my presence when we entered the dining hall. I had some inkling of other guests on the ground, and it was very much a lesser get-together than the Grand Banquet Hall the other night, but it was still more populated than I had expected.

Around a dozen business partners of the Lord Ignatius, along with close to ten cousins, uncles, aunts, and perhaps even a son or two were present with their trusted aides. Not to mention the cadre of servants hustling past those that entered to be seated and talk. Six tables had been arrayed within the hall, the heaters above rumbling to regulate the temperature from the cold mountain air. In the distance, there was thunder, and muted flashes in the window promised of rain. The dinner was a type of roast bird, succulently prepared with half a dozen sauces and varying fruits bio-organically bred to be sweet as nectar. The drink was not amasec, but something a bit more fruity and local, though not lacking in strength.

Emmaline and I had been invited to the head table, though she had the honor of sitting beside the Lord himself. I was across the table, finding myself beside a fat but almost humorously droll banker of some repute. To this day I can't recall his name, but we spoke at length about old histories of the Segmentum Tempestus, obviously styling himself as an amateur historian. He had a very Caietanusian view of the last handful of millennia, likely having just read his more famous work, Scions of the Impenetrable Stars. It is a volume of three thousand pages, but in brief, it speaks of humanity's ability to take the fallen empires of the xenos, purge their greatest strengths and redirect it into the imperium as true successors, crediting our expansion into Tempestus because of the tools we could utilize from other segmentums. In the theorums, they believe the emperor was never a man, but an agent of a long forgotten species of near-humans super beings who seeded mankind to uplift it.

A heretical theory, of course. Caietanus had been exiled for his pagan thoughts, and would have been outright killed if not for his staunch belief in the emperor's divinity. It was required reading for my peers to know just how not to attribute the success of humanity. I had to write a dissertation on the subject. I felt I knew I would kill this man, but at the moment I played my part. Perhaps he did not know of Caietanus' downfall and merely wished to impress a guest, I thought. Kronus would have called me soft, and perhaps I was.

As the evening wore on and our bellies were filled, I placed my third Moldarian drink down, satisfied and at my limit of alcohol before I knew I would lose an edge in matters. I had only spoken thrice to Emmaline, calling across the table to pipe into one of her conversations with the Ignatius family. She and I had been introduced to varying members of the clan as they came to the table, curious on the unexpected guests. It was after meeting the forth cousin that I stood up and bid the banker goodnight, striding over to the head of the table and interrupting Julius who was in the middle of a bewildering tale of a haunted planet called Danubis. I suspect I made my entrance just as he was getting to 'the good part.'

"My lady, I am quite tired after filling my belly so ravenously. Would you walk with me or shall I go find rest alone?" I asked Emmaline, offering her a hand. If she were to take it, we would talk, and if not, we would go about our duties as planned. I wanted to give her an out in case she felt in over her head. And admittedly, the longer I pondered it, the more uncomfortable I was becoming over her 'role.' If she refused me, at least my guilt would lessen.

ELDEN RING

Yeah, I say go with option 3. A narrative of a group of tarnished sound cool.

ELDEN RING

<Snipped quote by POOHEAD189>

Hey Ben. Any answers to the questions I posed?

@Hank

Not yet, friend. But I'm thinking on it...

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The wind cried out in a whistles as I stepped off the shuttle, an arrogant smile on my face. Urien and Bolskar wore the suits of courtiers and were instructed to keep their mouths shut unless spoken to directly, and Bolskar was encouraged to speak out of the two of them. They flanked Emmaline and myself, standing at attention like guardsmen. I pretended not to notice the Lord Ignatius's less than enthusiastic welcome, striding up and shaking his hand with both of mine, the little fact he had not offered a hand a mere pittance to Blasius Deckard.

"It's tremendous to be here," I said with relishing surety. "The good lady has told me vastly about you, my lord. When I heard you had invited her and her escort, I was thrilled to visit your home."

"Yes, well.." the hawkish man said, clearing his throat. He seemed to still be searching for his ability to lie about his pleasure I was here, but he spoke the words even if he did not act the part. He motioned for his honor guard to redeploy as ushers to bring us inside. "I am honored to have a Jovian Elite visit my home. Now, if you would be so kind, the wind can be quite rough in such heights."

The Lord Ignatius led us into his home, which seemed more like a complex that was built around half of the mountain. The foyer was huge and immaculate, with busts of long dead Moldarian philosophers and a picture upon the northern section of the wall that displayed Julius himself. At the front of the entrance, a handsome woman in a silver dress awaited, her smile practiced though her eyes fixed upon myself, Urien, and Bolskar as she, too, was likely not prepared for our arrival. The woman recovered far more quickly than the lord had, and gave a curtsy.

"My sister, the Lady Jezebel Ignatius," Julius introduced.

"We are honored to have you in our home." She confessed, her brown hair in glorious curls that did its best to hide the grey streaks within its folds. The two led us further in, walking down a long gallery with pictures of ancient battles and prominent members of the old family displayed, some even in expensive holo-picts. The archaic tapestries artifacts displayed, war trophies and old items of imperial stature, and the sheer livery of the carpet along with the scale of the house was staggering. It even more extravagant than anything I had yet introduced to Emmaline. In fact, it would be impressive even to certain areas of the Sol system, and I gave it my due looks of awe when I was duly galvanized.

"I must say, you have quite the extensive history of your lineage, my lord." I baited him, striding beside the man as he introduced Emmaline to what I imagined was a broken but highly prized STC. An odd device that looked vaguely like a jet turbine and a mechanical wheel of infinitite. What it could do was anyone's guess, likely including Ignatius himself. "To what do you credit your wealth, dear Julius?"

I saw he did his best not to scowl at me. He was becoming a better liar as time went on. Likely he thought I wouldn't notice regardless. He was far more mystifying in Emmaline's presence.

"Moldar's dynasty was founded by the Ignatius family." He said, a bit of pride seeping into his voice. He was an exceptionally tall man, and made a display of looking down on me. "Maximus Ignatius settled here, settling in what is today Gralinmakke and forming the first colony. His grandson became the commander of the subsector when he served with distinction in the Hironeiden Crusade. For a thousand years my family safeguarded the realm and brought it prosperity, but nothing lasts the wastes of time. Eventually we were mere Moldarian planetary governors, until two centuries ago when my ancestor Pontiphicus Ignatius was disgraced and ousted. How far we have fallen."

"You are still the second more powerful house on an impeccably beautiful planet." I reminded him, and gestured to Emmaline. "You certainly impressed the lady Von Morganstern."

ELDEN RING

No promises because of my schedule but you got my attention.

The Sunday Group

The world as he knew it was no more. Death had taken him, in a manner temporary but vastly worrying. Mal had stepped out of the bounds of the universe and strayed beyond the threads of time. He looked at his hand, so vague and yet distinct all at once. He saw with eyes that were not eyes, heard with ears that were not ears. Had he come here as merely a spirit, perhaps he could survive for a time if he was not plucked by one of the dreadful denizens, but as he came here physically, his body began to waste. It was a race against time, like a drowning man that had just sucked in his first lungful of water. And yet, Mal felt a serene calm that beckoned him. Had he been a normal man without arcane knowledge, he would have simply let it take him.

Luckily he was too clever for that.

Briefly he looked up at the world cavern, letting himself take a precious three seconds to admire the horror of the death realm. Rock of some unknown substance filled the horizon as far as any eye could see or grasp, higher than the sky and beyond scope. Great roots the size of small countries snaked out of the broken cavern top, monumental in range and wholly significant beyond Mal's small existence. Had Mal been able to breathe, his breath would have caught. Oddly, he was aware of some cosmic light that kissed the stone and roots, originating to his right. Somehow he thought of it as north, but he knew directions like that were impossible in Hel.

Turning, he saw the maw of the tunnel feeding into some other chamber. The light ebbed and flowed off the wall as if it were alive. Mal had theories to its origin, but he decided he could study such things later. Gripping his talisman, he closed what eyes he felt he had and concentrated, his spirit stirring within his discarnate breast and gathering itself for a final gambit. The light in the chamber pulsed slowly, and he felt something tremble as if it had awoken. Mal called to Odin, his voice noiseless. He knew the God could hear him, regardless. Grimnir had other plans for him, Malcador knew. He had spoken as much. Seconds passed, and as his soul bucked in its death spasms and the light began to grow brighter, Malcador finally felt the tug of his pendant pulling him.

He was hurtled out of Hel and back into the mortal plane faster than light or information, and yet it felt like an eternity.

Malcador gasped, opening his aching eyes. Vaguely he was aware of pavement under his body, but at the moment he was like a newborn babe. He had forgotten how to breathe, and choked for a few key moments until his entire being returned to his vessel and he felt his nerves and body returning to normal, the flesh arising from its labyrinthine prison of the underworld. It was an experience he couldn't describe to anyone, and he hadn't exactly planned for it to happen. He gave a word that succinctly defined his current thoughts of returning to real-space.

"Fuck."

Clutching his chest, he blinked and struggled to push himself from a prone position. Distantly, he heard his name being called by a familiar voice. Jaelle, yes. He remembered Jaelle, but what led him here?

Oh, the spell, and the men irritatingly immune to his magics. That wasn't possible, but somehow they had been. Malcador lifted himself up unsteadily and called out to Jaelle. "I'm here! Over here!" He yelled with gusto, clearing his throat. Damn, he was thirsty, and he felt he could eat a horse. Mental note, if you're going to cast Mund-spilli, make sure you had aetherial ties to the regular plane if you planned on escaping its blast. It's a suicide spell for a reason, he told himself. Briefly, he saw a man across the gas service stations at the convenience store running into the street. He thought it was the same man that had survived his attack. Well, for once in his life, he wished he had a goddamn gun or something.

When Jaelle got there, he would send them both back to headquarters. This place was getting tiresome.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

They seemed to be in a situation old Lord Myrthawnean would call 'quite the pickle.' Gusts of wind, almost certainly magically induced, separated the fog and allowed a volley to fly into their midst from the archers on the rooftops just long enough for the fog to return once the arrows had been loosed. A good strategy, Kayden had to admit. The assault that happened after the shafts had reigned down was as predictable as it was effective. He could not do much with his sword, and almost as little with his wit. He did decide to grace Veronica with a smile that showed his white teeth.

"Didn't you say you were the best archer?" He asked the future princess-consort. Truthfully, Veronica was quite good with a bow. If there was someone he wanted to guard his back with such a weapon, it would be her. Which was, in fact, the only time he wanted her around. As the aerial attack began, Kayden gestured to the pegasi that barrelled towards the group. Better to make Veronica determined and focused to prove her insufferable husband-to-be wrong rather than afraid. "Time to prove it."

The sword that nearly took the life of an instructor caught Kayden's eye, the flash of steel causing him to whirl as the four swordsmen in the ground assault moved forward. Idly, he thought they would be more effective fighting in a bulky unit. Surrounding wasn't the greatest idea when you lacked numbers, and there were only enough swordsmen to keep their group's attention. Still, Kayden would protect Kellen as he had bade, as well the others. The footman closest to him swung at the prince, only for his blow to be a feint for a quick stab to the gut. Kayden's block was redirected and he leaped back in time to knock the thrust away with a clang of steel.

Rather than giving the footsoldier time to realign his attack, Kayden pressed his own. A diagonal slash that would have taken the footman down were it not for his armor. His opponent blanched for a moment, but once he realized he was not wounded he cut at Kayden's midsection. The prince parried with the strong of his blade, the two now in a match of muscle. Kayden was fit, but he was lean. With a shove forward as if to try and strong-arm his way in, Kayden suddenly relaxed and let the footman's blade fly past him.

There was more to a sword than the blade. If the footman had forgotten that, Kayden reminded him. Stepping into his reach, Kayden moved behind the swing and slammed the pommel of his sword into the man's helmet, ringing the footman's helm like a gong that reverberated over the fellow's body. Like a stunned animal, the enemy slashed wildly. Kayden yelped at a small cut across his leg, but did not relent and suitably returned a more practiced cut to fell the man with a duelists grace. The prince then kicked him across the chest, letting him fall to the ground, his sword clattering where it lay.