POOHEAD189

A Chartered Course: Medieval Trading League RP

"I can sing a bit, well, from what I'm told." Aldrik said, his cheeks laden with bits of potato. He hid his mouth behind one hand as he reached for more butter. He had the voice of a singer, and maybe the face too. Both additionally did well for a salesman, but he had rings under his eyes. Faded, as if he had spent long nights studying and was attempting to catch up on sleep. It was probably the most dangerous thing he had to deal with for most of his life. Until the assassination attempt an hour ago, of course. "But I can't carry a sword to save my life, quite literally."

They started with small talk. Aldrik had a charismatic, easy going way about him while Inez sported a forthright, honest manner of speaking. It was a good combination, they found.

"No, I wasn't born in Argethafen. I've lived in four places, three since I started my apprenticeship." Aldrik rubbed his chin, staring at his half eaten potato, very much appearing like he was thinking of past events. "I was born in Eisenmark, moved to Visamyrce when my mother passed, and I never knew my father. Went to live with my aunt and uncle, and they didn't have much patience for me. It was stay with them or find a trade." He didn't mention he was seven at the time. That sort of stuff hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things. "I remember hearing from someone... I don't remember who it was. My mother or grandmother, maybe, that I could talk my way into getting anything. Whoever it was likely meant I was just a cute kid, but it stuck with me and I made my decision. I found an associate at the local yard for the League. They let me in after I begged for three days, then after a few years there, I was sent to Hoehenshtauf by the river. Only there for a year, but I liked it. From then until now, I was at Argethafen."

"And where to now, boss?" Inez asked, popping another bit of potato in her mouth. She had seen fit to make sure there was plenty of dressings on the little dumpling. Aldrik didn't know if he would get used to that moniker, and he looked at her briefly as he thought and reached for his drink.

"Yhesra." He said.

---

3 weeks later...

Built on a promontory, Yhesra was one of the twelve great coastal cities on the eastern side of the Central Sea. Even miles away from the ship, its walls and towers could be seen easily by all with but the worst eyesight. The walls were reputedly twenty three miles long and thirteen strides high, and the city bore two great "docks" called Cothons. Artificial, protected inner harbors, both guarded by two keeps with weaponry Alrik wasn't certain of. This inner harbour was circular and surrounded by an outer ring of structures divided into a series of docking bays for ship maintenance, along with an island structure at its center that also housed navy ships. Each individual docking bay featured a raised slipway. Above the raised docking bays was a second level consisting of warehouses where oars and rigging were kept along with supplies such as wood and canvas.

Aldrik had never seen such ingenuity and commerce. The cothon could house perhaps three hundred ships, and he saw what looked to be half the population of Argethafen was bartering, socializing, and working before his eyes as the ship skimmed through the waters towards one of the areas cordoned off to dock. The Captain had finished ordering his crew, the mainsails lowered and the anchor getting prepared to drop. Men eagerly awaited shoretime and getting a cut from the small-time trading they would accomplish.

For Aldrik and Inez, business was just about to begin.

Maverick Malediction

Well, Neil didn't have a lot of willingness to rest after that. He didn't usually worry about theft, and perhaps it wasn't the catalyst for his lack of sleep. However, he was so tired he couldn't sleep, which was a dreadful combination in any situation, much less this one. He thought about what she needed from him, and he supposed he could just steal whatever he felt like, but eventually the warmth of the fire and the rhythmic breathing of the woman beside him caused him to nod off.

At some unknown time later, Neil gradually woke up. His eyes opened first, slightly just to peek and gauge there was no one else in the room. Once that was discovered and he felt safe, he blinked and cleared his throat, sitting up. The windows were black, and the only light was from the fire that still crackled in the hearth. Empty soup bowls and half-empty bottles of beer lay on the table next to biscuit crumbs. Beside him, Calliope still slumbered peacefully.

Her back was curved and her face pressed to a pillow above her arms. Neil had been to a royal enclosure before where great cats from the Arad Luin and the Southlands were set in cages to display the magnificence of the crown. He had seen a leopard sleep like she did, and the comparison suited her. Beautiful, soft looking, but deadly. As he looked at her, he realized something. He blinked and knew what he needed to steal, which was something he knew wasn't possible.

She stirred, and he could see a smile on her red lips.

Once he got outside, he'd think about that. Maybe running was the best option. Whatever she was planning it was going to be something wicked. Then again, self preservation was once again overridden by his affair with danger and the very real but strange realization that he had a thing for her. Pulling up his newly found coat, snow drifted lazily down from an endless black sky. No moon or stars were in sight, the only light accompanying him were torches and lanters raised across roads every, what he guessed, were 10 strides apart. Every now and then a guardsman or the fearsome streltsy marched pased him, but he managed to evade being detected by halting his progress far too often for his liking. The snow's crunch was way too loud for his tastes.

Eventually he made it to the edge of the square, where the temple loomed. He couldn't exactly call it a church, the structure only superficially resembling the more familiar temples and structures of the trinity faith. It had the look of a strange longhouse with a tower at its apex, and brightly colored supports at its sides set up to have the visual look of leaning. Even now, Neil could smell smoke and see a bit of a haze lazily floating out of the temple. It gave him an idea he hated, but there looked to be only one entrance and he had to get in.

"I do?" He whispered to himself, questioning again why he was doing this. Wow, the cold really sapped his normally gung-ho confidence. Then again, he was still doing it so he apparently had a lot of willingness, regardless.

Once Neil had reached the top of the timber and brick tower, he peered into the opening just below the sharp top, and saw a small fire alight about eighteen feet down. Taking in one last breath of fresh air, he scrambled in and pressed against the walls to shimmy down. He went slowly, and once he was man-height above the fire, he stopped to try and hear if anyone was walking around within.

Silence.

He dropped down and spread his legs to land and miss the fire. In front of him was a long, chapel-like room where a priest soundly snored on one of the pews.

"Oh," he mouthed. He could have just picked the lock and walked in then. Well, water under the bridge. Now about that looting...

3 hours later...

Neil sat by the fire, his arms criss crossed under his armpits to heat his hands up with his coat still draped over his shoulders. He had wanted to get a fresh beer, but he didn't want anyone to think he had been up at all during the theft. He merely finished one of the two bottles they had, and ate another biscuit. The night was still dark, and likely would be for another few hours if he had guessed correctly. He had sat there for a good half hour, and had just about dozed off again when he heard Callipe stir behind him.

In the corner of the room, two items glinted. A gilded mirror, with its frame carved into snarling wolves and big enough to showcase the upper half of one's body. Beside it was a glass chalice, silver vines snaked across its outer shell as if its base were roots and the cup itself was foliage reaching for the sun. Neil was warmed, but since the outer edges of the room was still cold, he shivered slightly and turned to regard the naked woman but obviously warm sorceress draped in the covers.

"I hope you like shiny things as much as I do." Neil remarked sardonically.

Sails and Spells

Malcador felt he needed to be more careful than he already had been. Every move he made, these girls were watching him, which of course, was understandable. Though they could certainly trust in his self interest and admittedly, his libido. As it was, as tempting as the gold was, he knew if he played along he would get a cut of it. Getting out of this partnership alive was mostly what he desired, however. It always paid to be pragmatic.

Malcador started to grab whatever gold and jewels he could put in varying pockets and pouches of his mage apparel, which was not quite a robe but it did have a flowyness and was made of varying overlapping weaves of fabric. Some might call it a robe, but Malcador knew the difference well enough. Either way, it gave him a lot of places to stuff things and so he did, making sure none of the sharper diamonds were anywhere near his nether regions. Once he was halfway through his collecting, the women caught his attention.

Why did they have to take their shirts off and make him stare? With a will he focused more on the gold, but it was only seconds until they caught his attention again, this time by name.

"I mean..." He started, shrugging. "I can cast my magic if you'd like, I just figured you wouldn't trust me to use it. But very well, as you wish." He gave a low bow, which caused some gold to spill out back into the pile. He paid no attention to it and began to rhythmically chant, waving his hands back and forth as his voice took an echoing, powerful quality to it. Sparks jumped from his fingers for the briefest of moments, and with a flourished he called forth with a word of power.

The pile of gold that had yet to be collected (except for a few small mounds the other girls could easily grab) began to float and coalesce around the mage, as if they were bees and he was a bear attacking their nest, though they never touched his skin. Instead they merely floated there, and he thanked the Gods he had learned the accompany spell. He couldn't do everything but it made this a whole lot easier.

"I'll swim first, because if you touch these, there's a good chance some of them might be dispelled. But come behind me and gather up the ones that fall. We should have them all out of these caves in half the time, now. Yes, yes, I know, I am hansdome and amazing." He said, giving a grin that showed his white teeth.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

"They're after this?" Cyrdic asked skeptically, holding up the piece of timber. It seemed unremarkable and even old and worn, unsuitable for use with most pieces of furniture or other woodcraft. Cyrdic had seen his fair share of strange occurrences and magics in the world, but this seemed a bit weird even for him. How would the doctor even figure they were after this very average piece of kindling? Could the treants find it in a pile of other bits of wood, even?

"Sounds like elgi nonsense to me," Thor said offhandedly. As he smoked, the dirty blonde-bearded dwarf ran his thumb over his axe to make sure the blade was keen. He talked a bit less than his companion, so when he did speak people tended to listen. "There are tales of 'elves' in woods close to this one. I bet they had something to do with it."

"Aye, weird magics." Gunir added. "But it makes some sense it looks like that. What better way to hide a magic craft than to make it look mundane. Makes it easier to hide."

"Why don't we just break it?" Cyrdic suggested, half a serious question and the other half a ploy to see how the doctor would respond. Almost immediately, he did get a response from Von Michenkomph, who looked like he was about to go insane from the very prospect of the deed. Cyrdic raised an eyebrow at him, and someone banged on the door again.

"Help!" the doctor cried.

"No, mi amor," Camilla said, placing a hand on Cyrdic's thick forearm. "We don't know what would happen. The trees might never stop."

"Or it could solve our problems," Gunri said, stroking his beard.

Finally the door caved in, three armed men in the lord's tabards holding billhooks walked in, as did a myriad of the doctor's servants. The two Dwarfs stepped infront of the intruders and Camilla aimed a pistol at one of the guards as she held her rapier out in a low guard. Cyrdic held the piece of wood up and had his sword out in a flash, the point of it at the neck of Von Michenkomph, who stopped his screaming when he realized he was very close to the cold blade of Cyrdic's broadsword.

"The doctor has something to confess to you and the baron, I think." Cyrdic said bluntly.

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Cyrdic glanced at Camilla, who in turn looked at the Dwarfs. Cyrdic didn't need to be told twice, he was going to do it anyway unless his lover had a different suggestion.

"Don't look at me, my legs are too short." Was what Cyrdic heard from behind him when he dropped his norscan shield and stepped up to the window. In the gloom, he saw a very muddied Konrad Von Michenkomph scrambling away. He looked to be limping as it had been a four meter drop, but Cyrdic doubted anything was seriously wrong with the man. Sigmar, he hoped the man wasn't a charlatan and this was worth it. He pushed off the window sill and sailed down, catching himself by hitting the ground with his feet and bending his knees to redirect the full force of the fall to all four limbs.

With muddied hands, he raced after the pitifully slow doctor. Cyrdic had good night vision, and with the vague lights from the ruined settlement blazing from windows and street lamps, it was impossible for him to lose the good doctor. Twenty meters and Cyrdic caught up to him by a tree at the edge of a paved road. Instinct told him to elbow the man and send him to the ground, but that might actually cause more damage than would have been necessary. Instead, Cyrdic grabbed the squealing fellow's nightshirt, yanking him up like an eagle catching a hare.

"Ack! Let me go you brute!"

"Don't make me get the sword out," Cyrdic warned, which led to a less energetic panic but he still squirmed. The chase was quick, but it was a long trudge back to herr doctor's quarters. Once they arrived back, Camilla and the Dwarfs were still in there, the Tilean woman cleaning her nails with a dagger she had just sharpened and the Dwarfs were passing the time smoking pipes. Cyrdic shoved him inside the doorway, closing the portal behind him.

"Run again and I'll get the buckshot." Cyrdic warned him, and the doctor quaked sufficiently enough to where he felt confident he would flee, and just to be safe, Cyrdic stood by the window with his big arms crossed.

Maverick Malediction

Neil watched her flick the coin, and wondered where the sorceress had kept it.

"Don't they have like, witch trials that tend to see the woman dead?" He asked her.

"Only if the woman is innocent." Calliope said casually, popping some bread into her mouth. Neil was glad she seemed undisturbed by the entire thing, and that she was eating well enough to get some of her strength back. Neil lay back on the couch at that, staring up at the ceiling as she ate. She must have sensed what Neil was thinking. She added: If a woman is a real witch, she'll probably live getting dunked under water for five minutes or being crushed by a rock. I swear, the tests they make are so uncreative..."

"Agreed, I have far more creative plans for what I'd do with you." Neil smiled and winked.

"Everybody wants me," She rolled her eyes, though he caught the smile on her lips. She gestured with a handful of biscuit. "But they'll want you too. If they think I'm a necromancer, you'll be in just as much danger."

"But if they find out you're not, they'll trust us, right?"

"Yeah, but well still need to afford to live here until we can leave." She said, wiping her mouth with one of the cloths provided.

"And we won't be able to leave if the undead surround the place." Neil added with a sigh. Running through the snow with a zombie horde hot on his tail wasn't his idea of fun.

"Might just be easier to take the town from the stapan," she said without putting too much thought into it. But she blinked, and glanced at Neil. He saw her look and raised an eyebrow. She had a wicked look, and even though it would have quelled many men's desires or curiosities, Neil liked it a bit too much, and he was more than a little interest.

"Stapan?" He asked her.

"The mayor." She explained.

"Well if we survive tomorrow, I'm behind you. Besides, can't have our third date until you have the energy to walk around."

Hey, hey you! Come read me please!

Welcome! I bet you'll enjoy your stay :)

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

What a peculiar woman, he thought. Skilled and intelligent and pretty, but she sought for someone else's gain and not her own. Somehow, he marveled at how easily she just thrilled him at the smallest things, the lightest touches, the most minute gestures. It was one thing to find a girl he found cute and he pursued, but already there were boundaries he had to admit he found arbitrary, whilst she wished to get closer to him but not too close. He also was of sound enough mind to realize she had not forbade his flirtations, and her own compliments back were welcoming. He wouldn't do anything to or with her that would compromise her, but she certainly gave him a sidelong glance he had seen other girls give him before.

This was going to be strange, he conceded. He did smile when she blushed, though he tried to hide it. He failed to hide his own blush, as well. It was a bit awkward there, in the stillness of the mist and the silence between them.

"Well, I would be foolish to not accept your tutelage, I think." Galt admitted, running a hand through his thick mane of hair. He never would have called it 'kingly' or any sort of 'stately,' but he supposed people would start seeing him in a fairly new light, particularly as time went on. He didn't really like it, but he supposed he needed to get used to it if he wanted to keep his position or get even more, or at the very least survive which was definitely on his to-do list.

"And I appreciate that," referring to her comment on Galt being a desirable husband-to-be. "As I said, you'd make a great wife and queen, even. But alas," He gave a facetious, theatrical tone to his voice. "-like most men I'll have to settle for you being but my teacher." Galt gave a well acted look that spoke of a forlorn hope dashed against the rock.

"Ah and yes! Thank you for the financial help as well. Er, financial advice. I've never had more than what could get me a meal, and I don't exactly know how to manage money. Wow... I actually don't." He said, looking inwardly at his own admission of it. Some merchants children could claim to know more.

"I will grant you some advice, though." Galt said suddenly, lifting his head to regard her. He gave a smile that lit up his dark eyes. "If we're to 'fraternize' or whatever word you would like to call it, be yourself with me. I'll be far more receptive if I'm learning from someone I can claim is a friend rather than a business partner. Business partners or 'people I know from work' have always been men and women who would stab me in the back for an extra cut, or just to save their own skins. I would rather have someone who is honest with me. Deal?"

Warhammer - Tilea - A Dogs of War RP

I've been waiting for this

The Sunday Group

Malcador Ravenwood

---

Malcador brushed himself off, growing irate at the little lecture. He was used to Jaelle, but Gods he had just come back from the literal realm death. He was not in a mood to debate or throw clever jabs.

"Your moral priorities are commendable Jaelle, but the longer we're here, the more danger the Petersons are in. We were the targets, not the bloody couple. If we don't leave now, they might bring in reinforcements or attack with renewed vigor. We're leaving." He said, and the suave mystic opened his eyes to see Jaelle already floating away. He sighed and searched for his cellphone. Had something so esoteric even made it from one dimension to another? Oh wait, his work one had.

Thankfully, it could survive anything. It was a Nokia.

Mal searched through his contacts. Being less than ten, it wasn't difficult to find the delectable person he sought. He found Emmaline in the list entitled "the fun one" and called her up. He cleared his throat, placing a hand on his head to stall what threatened to be an oncoming headache.

"Emmaline? Yes, I'm alive. I'm ok, I swear. No, yes, no I did see Eleanor I think. Oh... Wait, she just... well I regret to say we are in need of a ride. Jaelle and I are stuck here at the explosion site and we need a ride and...perhaps an ambulance? No, not for me. I'm ok! Ok... wait, belay the ambulance. Everyone looks ok that I can see, and the authorities will be here soon anyway. Just make sure we're out before they get here. Aha, you know, I'll keep them entertained as we wait. Alright, bye babe."

He turned the phone off, sliding it back in his trousers. A vast pillar of smoke still billowed into the sky, the mage smelling it even from fifteen meters away from the husk of the gas station. He trudged tiredly across the charred asphalt into the grass thgat had miraculously not been swept up into a wildfire. He dearly hoped the Peterson's had insurance on the place, he thought as he saw the pitiful state they were in. Elders held a special place in Malcador's mind. Wisdom with years was something to be prized, and these two had learned much and worked hard throughout their life.

As self interested as Malcador could be, he did have a heart.

"Someone's on their way," He assured the couple and Jaelle, giving an uplifting smile. "Rough days make rough people. No one could mess with us after this, I bet."