POOHEAD189

WH40k: Warspite - An Astra Militarum Adventure

Maybe... though it is getting close to the holidays.

Hi...

@pyramidsoup Glad to meet you. Hope you enjoy your stay here :)

Feature Request Thread

>I'd like to see a video insertion button added to the bar at the top of the text editor. That way we can just click and insert a [youtube][/youtube] tag in a fashion similar to image and URL links.

@Zyx

Now THAT is a helpful addition.

Feature Request Thread

As much as I agree with a lot of what you guys are saying, none of this is a feature request.

A cultured [INSERT TOPIC HERE] discussion thread

Khorne

♡ A new Plaything enters the chat: ━ ♡

Welcome!

Sails and Spells

Malcador helped where he could, keeping the arcane weaves flowing and hauling what treasure he could. Three trips were made, and halfway through the third return swim, he was growing tired. Surfacing again, he gulped in air and floated for a moment. His strength, both physical and magical, was growing weak. He tried his best not to show it, however. Plucking a gem out of his pocket, he examined it, and then wiggled it for the women pirates to see as he raised his eyebrow in a suave manner.

The Captain's suggestion drew his attention away from showing off, and he tossed the gem to her and gave a tongue-in-cheek salute.

"Your wish is my command, Captain," He told her with a voice of silk. Granted, this was probably the last real spell he could cast before he had a meal and a drink, but it was hopefully all that was needed from him. He waded out of the water and trudged to the shallows, before he began to cast his next spell. An incantation flowed through his lips like a lullaby, and moments later, the coins began to slowly move towards the containers.

A few were wobbly, but thankfully the power went into the invocation and not the doing. The magic had already been cast, and so it would perform its due. Just to add some flair, Malcador closed his eyes and waved his hands like a musical conductor at an aristocratic orchestra. At the crescendo, the last of the treasure had filled the pots, and he opened his eyes. The women behind him crawled out of the pool to join their fellow crewmates.

He sighed somewhat tiredly and brushed some of his fringe out of his eyes. "So, I hope I have served admirably enough. But I am pretty spent as it is, at least magically. Is there more I can do for you, Captain, perhaps in a different fashion?"

He didn't mean to make it sound suggestive, but it did leave his lips that way. Well, if she was willing he wasn't going to argue. He noticed Runa glaring at him, however. He wondered what her problem with him was. So far he had been nothing but a help. In his own self interest, yes, but they did have a knife to his throat in a very real sense. Wouldn't they all do the same?

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

Galt collected himself well, giving her a smile and crossing his leg in a masculine fashion when she took her seat. For most of his life, when he was meeting someone of import (which was rare), he usually would always be ready to leap up and flee at the slightest provocation. For him to be sitting here and getting more comfortable was rare and showed his trust in her. He didn't even do this around the Duke or the King, though he didn't think she knew that. He took the ledger gingerly, thanking her as he gave it a cursory look.

He wasn't thrilled at the prospect of all of this 'book learning,' but he knew he wasn't dumb. And he needed to learn this, else he would be quite unprepared for a lot of scenarios he would have to deal with soon. He took a quill and placed it atop the ledger to prepare himself, but rather than begin, she asked him a question he didn't expect.

"Those bandits? No." He assured her. "Other bandits, maybe."

A few faces flitted through his mind. Images of hard me he knew who would do anything to get money if they felt it was plausible or profitable enough. Galt didn't feel especially worried, however. They would go after anyone of the aristocracy, and only Galt knew of their usual hangouts and modus operandi. He was probably the safest count this side of the Imperial Peregon.

"The ones that went after me didn't plan on the Duke, at least until he had already pretty much landed in their lap. They knew a caravan was coming by, but the Duke would have been assumed a commoner and gutted likely." He said, shaking his head at the thought, running dexterous hands over his freshly shaven chin. "A few of them might have recognized him. I know I did. But as far as I know, Halstag and his boys thought the Duke Valdemar was a merchant. Plus, I think Ildeth has a bigger problem with upjumped cutthroats. Say what you will about this Kingdom, but our nobles know how to fight as well as keep a good guard."

Galt had traveled around a bit, but he knew more from war stories than actual experience. From what he could tell, the Ardeland Nobles went to battle alongside their troops. Not many other nations could boast the same, save for some martial barons and military commanders who were appointed as such. "I think the only reason they or anyone else would come after me specifically would be self defense, and I don't even know if they know where I am. If I were in their shoes, I would know there was a new hotshot count, but even having my name wouldn't make them think it was me. Far as I know, my situation hasn't happened before. But let's talk about that another time, yeah? I'm ready to learn."

Maverick Malediction

The next morning...

Neil had only caught glimpses of what Calliope had been dealing with. A few serfs in awe here, a military escort there. He knew the local priest had checked her for 'purity' and by whatever standards he held, she had passed. He didn't know the custom or the abilities the Banian priest held. He had chanted before her and thrown some sort of spices in the air, and Neil had to admit he felt a tingle in the on his skin from the religious rites. However, the rapscallion was certain if the woman been examined by an adept of the Mythrim Tethir or a priest of the Trinity, Neil was certain they would be running for their lives about now. Maybe all the people of this land really cared about or were trained to see were magics of a necromantic or lynathropic kind. He didn't think it was good to guess, and he was pretty relieved they hadn't checked him for such things. He wasn't undead as far as he was aware, but he was something out of the norm.

The Boyar had moved Calliope and Neil to his estate before sunrise, giving them a small wing in his humble, frontier manor. It wasn't as large as a moderately wealthy merchant's home in Kalx Molaris, but it was a farcry better than the two small rooms they had at the Gilded Bear. The Boyar had smiled when he saw Neil, who was more concerned with Calliope's state of unconsciousness than anything.

"You are the Gresni who bloodied a few of the men when they tried to hustle the Sybil out." He said, Neil parting some of Calliope's hair out of her face. She was still breathing luckily. "I should reward you as well. You must have a magic cock too. She is still gifted by the Gods after you two have made the beast of two humps."

"Uh, thank you." Neil told him. "New clothes would work, and some food."

"All of that and more, my new friend. You are from Sebrovna, yes?" The Boyar asked. He had a large, dull beard contrasted by bright, intelligent eyes. He was swathed in a red cloak that was likely made of cotton that was extremely rare for this side of the world.

"She is."

"It is sad to hear what happened to the town. But favor shined on us, bringing you both here."

An hour or two later, Neil had eaten and had been gifted new, purple and black clothing. The vest showed more than he would have thought of his upper chest, but the furs draped over his shoulders helped keep him warm. After the aforementioned visitors of soldiers and peasants, he was finally allowed to see the 'glorious boyina' in all of her favored glory. Calliope sat on a chair, like a thone in Neil's eyes, at the center of a room in their new wing. She was covered in mink furs and the same black clothing she had donned a few hours ago. The chair was cushioned, and her hair had been styled, likely at her request, in a highly twisted low bun akin to the style a baroness would wear receiving guests.

Neil opened the curtain audibly, drawing her attention so she turned and saw him leaning against the wall with an eyebrow cocked and his arms crossed. He wore a deer hide belt that had a script engraving "boytoy" upon its copper buckle in Banian.

"Well your gambit worked. A little dramatic, but I can appreciate that." He quipped, a smile growing on his face despite himself. He's one to be talking, after his own performance. He looked at the empty, fur lined room. It was a meeting chamber, like an office but without a front desk and the chair was raised by a few steps. Talismans hung from the ceilings and the only rooms connected save for the locked door were to lavatories or dressing areas. "So what now? Got something devious or should I wing it wherever we go from here?"

New here.

welcome to the site!