POOHEAD189

Gold & Glory: AU thread

"With me," Markus told them, leading them up the planks in their gear and onto the deck of the ship. Two drucchi were up top, folding rigging and keeping an eye on things, though the last thing they expected was the need to be alert for anyone save the watch captain finding they were meandering about. Unfortunately for them, Markus and the two elves, once on board, approached them straight away. The two drucchi saluted in their strange fashion, but the three did not answer with words. Instead their blades sang out, catching the drucchi by surprise and ending their miserable lives before they could even cry out.

Morek rushed forward, grabbing one of the fallen drucchi swords. He spat on the weapon with distaste, but ran forward with it to the stairway leading into the brig. Emmaline followed at Markus' orders, wanting her to use her expertise in metallurgic magic to free the crew and quickly. As Indrin and Sulandar stood watch to replace the drucchi they had just killed, Markus dragged both corpses to the back of the ship and dumped them over, relieving them of their knives and swords beforehand. As Markus returned, he heard Indrin whisper. "They're almost here!"

The two elves moved back from the ship's railing, taking positions back on the aft castle to keep themselves visible but out of immediate scrutiny as Markus hurried downstairs, just as Emmaline and Morek were opening the chained door.

"A bloody dark elf!" Sketti roared when Markus elbowed past Emmaline, but when he removed his helmet, the dwarf engineer's ire was cooled, and he let out a sudden and hearty laugh, bellowing "Captain!" Sketti had some cuts along him, but nothing a dwarf couldn't handle. The rest of the crew followed suit with cheers and laughter. Morgan looked relieved and proud, thankfully looking none the worse for wear save a few whip marks. Markus would normally be happy, but instead he merely tossed what weapons he had to the floor. He was too pissed off to even pretend he was glad to see them. They were only halfway done.

"Brod, Edard, Frankfurt, and you Sketti, take these. Halfdan, take the chain from the door. In a few heartbeats we'll have a dozen dark elves here what thinks you're still slaves. On my signal we rush them up top. Care not to hurt the two on the aft, they're Ulthuan elves with us." He said, unsheathing his own accursed blade. There was a short, pregnant silence. Emmaline started to speak, but Markus cut her off with a murderous look. She pipped up, and he turned back to address the crew. "We can celebrate later, but right now I'm no mood for drink or merriment. We will wash the Hammer in drucchi blood before we set sail out of here with their corpses laid on the side of the ship. Leave no one alive or so help me I'll kill you myself and feed you to the sharks."

"Aye! You heard 'em!" Sketti said, his cheery disposition replaced with an expression of grim determination. The other men got to their weapons quickly, and those that couldn't stretched their taut muscles. Morek tossed the chain to Halfdan, who measured the length of the heavy object in his big hands and slung it against the ship wall for good measure, nearly splintering some of the wood.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

"I imagine that's a wise course of action," I said, inspecting the assembled group with muted consternation. We had donned what costumes we could and went over our roles again and again, but despite the months since our first encounter and the weeks en route to Kamden and Havenos, any other inquisitor would consider this a ragtag group at best. Retroactively, I wished we had been given more time on Pacitus, but selfishly I had gotten restless. It was good to be back in the field, even if it was potentially a short jaunt to find my missing agent and subdue a low-life named Nagrip.

I led the group from the central road down a splinter street of mudbrick, heading towards a trading shed with the look of a run-down chalet. Pelts and fetishes hung over a wooden marquee, swaying in the light wind as pioneers looking for game or to make a name for themselves conversed in low-gothic, sporting autoguns and thick-bladed knives at their hips. A few of them looked our way as we approached. I admit it was hard not to notice us, as I was in the company of three attractive woman and a giant in armor. I, for all my supposed charm, could better fit in I had learned. I sported a coarse jacket and a wide brimmed hat in the fashion of game hunters, my autogun at my hip and a combat shotgun at my back, sawed short to conceal its military grade fittings with a conventional gun-case.

We stopped at the front, if one could call it that, and I motioned for Salencia to stay there, glancing at Lucius who wouldn't be able to fit through the door unless he tore the roof apart. "Keep the good woman company. Make sure these fine gentlemen don't get any ideas." I remarked at the adventurer's expense, and winked at Salencia. She took my meaning, though I could tell she likely wondered why Emmaline wasn't staying out here to keep watch on the occasionally murderous post-human, but I needed her inside in case her psychic powers would be of use to gather information. Clara would be our back up.

The door creaked open, banging the wall with the rattling of a closed shutter. Tables with set collections of knives, bullets, energy packs, recoil dampeners, enhanced magazine capacitors, and vox-casters were laid over grox skins and ambull carapaces as phylodar teeth hung from the ceiling, glowing ivory in the lantern light. Three men in rough leathers and flack jackets stood in the corner, one holding a long gun as the other appreciated the smithing of the weapon. Another clung to a bio-scanner as if it were an STC. An older man with a jaw made of metal, bio-mechanically connected to the joint ligaments of his jaw, walked out of the back with a tray with three bottles of rotgut booze.

All four turned when I entered with Clara and Emmaline, the boisterous chattering coming to a stop. I tipped my hat to the proprietor, approaching him with my heavy boots. Emmaline followed suit as Clara hung back, the brunette's eyes glancing back and forth to ascertain any hidden defenses, though her eyes caught sight of the equipment laid out and she eyeballed her fair share of the military grade equipment.

"Excuse me," I asked the trader as he set the tray of booze down for the previous customers and approached. He was thin, with eyes that spoke of either kindness or meekness.

"What can I do for you, sir? Madam." He gave Emmaline a nod of his slowly revealing bald pate, fixing his short-brimmed bush hat to cover up the spots once again.

"Know where we can find any Carnodon in these parts?" I asked, leaning against a table and setting a hand to rest on my belt, the other idly lounging atop the holster of my weapon. He looked somewhat surprised, but quickly realigned his stance again.

"Carnodon? That's some big game, sir. Yes, yes uh, I remembering hearing about some sightings due east of here, near the Jroakan Valley. Seems there've been some attacks lately, too."

"They were confirmed Carnodon attacks?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Emmaline tilted her head, looking inquisitive, highly interested in the old timer and what he had to say. She knew how to play her part, at least.

"Well, just what I hear. There have been sightings of them over in those parts most recently." He said, glancing from my penetrating gaze to Emmaline's sparkling blues. "As for the attacks, I just know a few people haven't come back from the valley and the locals are smart enough not to go after us folk. If it's big, green, and tastes good, it's a grox, catch my meaning?"

"Who's gone missing? Off-worlders like us?"

"Is this an omni-scope?" Clara asked from behind us. I turned and the captain of my guard, one to whom I entrusted my life, was holding up a weapon attachment and looking at it as hungrily as Emmaline might gaze at a bowl of icecream.

"Why, yes it is!" The tradesman declared proudly.

"How did you get this?" She asked, intrigued.

"You'd be surprised what desperate men sell when they got nothing else. We get all kinds here, madam. Looking to purchase?"

I cleared my throat.

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

Galt was perceptive, but he couldn't begin to understand her hesitance there. Many were unaccustomed to learning something that brought them into such close contact with an opponent. Bows, crossbows, polearms, even swords kept a level of distance between yourself and whoever you were fighting against, but knife fighting was the most up close and personal form of combat there was. At least, that involved blades. It made sense she would be hesitant, though he did see a small spark in her eyes when she saw him twirled the dagger before her. Maybe there was hope for her yet? He would ask her again later, perhaps once they had gotten to know the other better.

"As you wish, my lady. I just wanted to offer you the same kindness you showed me," He explained, presenting himself in a stressed formality to add some whimsy to the awkwardness.

---

On the appointed day, Galt found himself feeling a bit of trepidation. The ex-thief had gotten used to meeting with people he wasn't entirely familiar with, having gotten the basics down on when to scrape and when to bow and when to graciously welcome someone into his presence. He had even entertained Queen Morgase for a short time the other day, when she had been visiting to speak with the good Duke Valdemar of Mrugalstern whilst the king was entertaining guests from Grand Empire of Peregon. Galt had managed to find out from the most auspicious lady of the land that she had been the daughter of the rival of the current Emperor of Peregon. Galt had said something witty, gods he couldn't even remember it, but evidently she had gushed about him to King Heraclad III. Galt felt that was good.

Right? So he hoped, at least. As he bumped along within the carriage, he recalled how making a reputation for yourself on the streets was either an extremely good or a horribly bad aspect to gain. Fear and notoriety helped one to do a job, but it also put a target on one's back. He wondered if word had gotten out already, and if Silke's brother would be more or less pleasant with such knowledge. Either way, he would suck it up and learn the bow if it was the last thing he would do.

He glanced out the window as he entered the gates of the Kasper residence, passing by iron embellishments in the shapes of lions and statues of mythic creatures he did not have the pedigree to recognize. Eventually, the carriage was dragged by the well manicured ferns and brush of the front lawn, and a stately looking man, likely a chamberlain, awaited him by the stone stairway leading up to the large oaken door once he slowed to a stop.

He wondered about her brother not being present to greet him, but he supposed it didn't overly matter. Galt didn't know if Silke was here or not, and though he imagined she was on the premises, he couldn't guess if he would see her. He hoped he would, as it always made the time go by quicker. She had said she wouldn't be present for the lessons, but he guessed he still rather held out some hope for it.

If only he had bow lessons with the Queen.

Ill Met in Ostland

Marius placed his hand on the bedclothes, telling her to relax as he helped stall the bloodflow. She was making light of the wound, but she wasn't entirely wrong either. It was a big cut, but not too deep. The blood would stop shortly if they simply kept the pressure up. Natasha winced, but didn't complain about the pain. At least, not that Marius could tell. She was muttering in her native tongue and looking at the corpse on the ground. A corpse he had put there himself.

Marius Schwarz, the murderer.

Killing beastmen was one thing. Something one might even call heroic, no matter the context. But this? Should he have gone as far as he had? Would people believe him when he said it was in defense of his friend? Was she a friend? He supposed she was, but everything else still churned his stomach. The blood, the death, the predicament. Natasha seemed more annoyed than anything, which he couldn't fathom but at least someone had their head on straight.

Slowly, the pattering of the rain grew louder, until Marius realized it was a separate sound. Boots thudded across the hallway floor, announcing two company guards with chestplates and puffed up hats, one with a pistol out and the other with a sword. The gun-wielder looked aghast at the scene, looking from the body to Natasha and the thoroughly bloodied sheet at her side. The other man looked cooler, as if he had expected some sort of trouble.

"What happened here?"

"I'll tell you." The swordsman said, shaking his head. "We invite these two into our silo and provide lodging and they kill one of our own. Shoot them!"

"What?" The other one asked incredulously.

Marius stared, wondering for all the world what should be done. Thankfully, his tongue found the right path even in such a hard situation as this. "My companion is hurt and we're in her room. Do you think if we were to go and kill your men we would take them in here and do it?" He asked, letting his voice carry. "I was asleep when two men attacked her. I heard a noise and got up, and one of them has escaped. You've got a murderer on the loose but it's not us!"

"Shut your lying tongue!" The swordsman said, his beard catching the flickering light of the lamp as it bobbed up and down with his words.

"No. No, he makes sense Junter. There wouldn't be cause for them to do this. We would catch them no matter what. Why do it here?" He asked aloud. "This other man, did you get a good look at him?"

Even as the pistolier asked, Marius watched in horror as his fellow guardsman lifted his sword and pierced the man through the neck with his blade. Even Natasha was surprised beyond words. Marius drew himself up, pressing his hands to his chest as if he might have an extra pistol on him, but of course he didn't. The killer unsheathed his blade from the flesh of his former comrade and looked at Marius darkly.

"There's a lot of money to be gained here. It's nothing personal." He told him, and stepped forward.

A hole bloomed and bloodied goblets exploded out of the man as a gunshot roared like the thunder outdoors. The would-be assassin looked down at his chest and saw a sundered area near the weaker part of the plate, just at his kidney. He idly felt at the wound, but could only pull his bloodied hand back and look in shock before he too, fell to the floor. Marius whipped his head to the side to see Natasha holding her smoking carbine.

"Peyerheps we shuld leaf." She said, lowering the stock and reloading her weapon.

"Once the rain subsides, I'm with you. For now, let's lock the doors, yeah?"

Ill Met in Ostland

Lightning pierced the skies, heavy rain thudding onto the roof as Marius awoke with a start. He felt he had been falling, but he supposed that was a silly notion. Beastmen were within a days ride and he was here, checking on a a falsified report of a ransacked silo with a barbarous woman, but Marius would never be dumb enough to get that close to a cliff. Ugh, now that he was awake, he felt he needed to take a piss. The Wissenlander cleared his throat and slid off the bed, making his way down the hall to the lavatory. Passing by Natasha's room, he heard some sort of noise and froze, and a muffled cry of what sounded like a moan coming from behind the door. Some bumps were audible, and he chuckled softly.

He supposed life was short and winter was long, as they say. Natasha moved fast though, probably bedding some guard while she had the chance. He wasn't sure if he was uncomfortable with the thought or not, but decided to brush it away and continue to the privy.

Once he felt better, he strode down the same hall, scratching his wild head of hair and yawning. Another noise erupted from the wound, but this time it was a bit more high pitched, and then a man speaking.

"Fucking stick her already!" Came the voice.

Alright, that could also be indicative of some sort of sensual act, but it didn't sound like it. He paused, looking at the door, wondering what to do and coming to terms with the fact he had already decided he needed to burst through now dawning on his sleep addled mind. Sigmar, he hoped he was right! He grabbed the knob and opened the door, stepping into the room and seeing a standing figure, naked steel glinting in the soft light of a lightning bolt crashing into the earth outside. Another two figures were wrestling on the bed, and though he had only been in the act a few times, he was certain they were doing it poorly.

With a growl, Marius hurled himself at the figure watching. He was a broad shouldered thug of a man, and the merchant felt it was the kind of fellow who he would rather hire than fight. But with the element of surprise, Marius managed to get him off his feet and crash into the desk, knocking aside an unlit candle and a glass of half-supped water. Wildly, Marius grabbed the man's head and shoved it into the wall, knocking it against the timber like a hammer. The would-be assassin elbowed Marius, but the Nulner was holding on for dear life, trying to keep the man's blade from being realigned in his other hand for a better strike. Wven with no breath in his lungs, Marius bludgeoned him. He smashed the man's head into the wall again and again, and soon the blade fell out of his fingers and the man slumped, wet, warm blood on Marius' fingers.

"Faucker!" Natasha cried out, kicking her assailant who had just managed to draw a blade. Marius furiously grabbed the backsword on the ground and held it up, shaking but pressing to the man's side.

"Unhand her or I'll kill you where you stand, cur!" He cried with fear and anger.

Request for my existence to be acknowledged.

Welcome!

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The next day...

The Prelate Voss was a Cobra-Class Destroyer of the Imperial Fleet. Like most of its kind, it was a quick escort ship with a large ordinance of warheads which allowed it to somewhat punch above its weight class. Still, it was smaller than most 'larger' Imperial ships, at just 1.5 kilometers from hull to stern and around 5.7 megatons in weight. 15,000 personnel combed and labored in its depths, but my retinue was given private quarters to inhabit.

I had not quite given up on the name Blasius Deckard, but I decided to play it smart and prepare a different name, going under the guise of Meliton Thracius when it became convenient to do so. At the moment, it was simply nerve-wracking enough to pass off Lucius as an astartes on this trip, much less these past months. It was fortunate no one he knew had ever truly seen a space marine in the flesh, else they would know he stood fully two feet taller and had a far more broad frame. The Imperial personnel did not question it either, other than asking the prudent question of why an astartes was aboard anyway. Luckily, the normal excuse of 'prohibited mission' was enough to see him through.

Clara had come with an assortment of weaponry, laying out all manner of guns for our party on her cot for me to take note of. Combat shotguns were next to long las rifles accompanying a 40mm grenade launcher which sat just beside a plasma pistol across from the solid slug sub-machine guns. Long knives were arrayed at the foot of the bed, and she even produced a catachan fang, which she did not deigned to elaborate on where she got such a unique item.

As I inspected the armory, Lazarus approached with a datapad. "Sir, I have taken the liberty of finding all of the fauna of the world and picking the most reliable game for you to 'hunt'" The tech-priest handed me the datapad and I opened the device. It showed a photograph of an enormous predatory animal, felinoide from the looks of it. Lazarus continued with: "The Carnodon, a large species of mammalian felinoid native to the planet Gudrun. Shipped out onto other worlds in order to keep its population from diminishing due to damage of the planet's atmosphere, they've become quite the invasive species on Havenos."

"Lazarus, I know we are not truly hunting these things, but couldn't you have picked a less deadly animal? This thing is six meters long." I deadpanned.

"It would be the most cognizant explanation of why you are carrying such heavy weaponry and protection, and it is also a noteworthy beast to kill, as it's spread is threatening the populations of the local antelope." He explained, somewhat smugly.

"Very well," I sighed.

Ill Met in Ostland

The company tavern was small, only made to accommodate the guard and the laborers in alternating shifts. Luckily, while spartan, it was well run. The barman had a plethora of kegs lined up with a nice, if predictable, selection. Marius had been to a few alehouses like this before, where the taproom was moderately well stocked but regulated to keep the price of providing well-stacked in the books. A few rough looking guardsmen and some laborers sat in ubiquitous seats. One man, a one-eyed guardsman with the plumed hat of a halberdier glanced his way and glared sullenly.

"I don't like this," Marius said under his breathe.

"Da, someting dos naut smeel right." Natasha said, taking a seat like a panther that had just decided she had found a nice place to lounge.

Marius had initially meant the ill-looks of some of the 'employees', but he also had to concur on his companion's meaning. "Er, yes. Quite strange." He remarked, taking his seat across from her, setting down her drink for her and taking his own flagon in his hands. They had been given small tokens so as to receive complimentary drinks, but the way Wilbrecht had smiled when he had given it, Marius thought the man trying to butter them up for some reason. "What reason would Grunson have to lie to us? We're just simple customers. Why send us out here to have us find out he was feeding us a false narrative?"

Natasha had deigned to drink her entire cup as Marius spoke, the merchant only seeing her drain it on the very last bit of his questions. He looked at his drink, and then sighed. No, he would just drink it like a normal person. He smiled, thinking of how Grunson would handle an irate Marius and a pissed off Natasha. And then his thoughts turned to how weird it was this woman saved his life and now here he was with her, yet again, in a tavern with strong drinks and another problem to deal with.

"Vat ah you tinking?" She asked him.

"The look on his face when we get back and you punch him in the face." He said. Natasha smiled, and then raised her fist as if she could see it happening before her eyes.

"The Face? Ha! I go lower."

Marius started snickering. She blinked, her brain whirring to meet her own words. "Hey! No innuwendo!" She declared, slamming her fist on the table.

"Wouldn't think of it." He said, hiding his chuckles in his drink.

Elden Ring: Age Of The Erdtree

Man I wish I had the time for these RPs!

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The dining hall was a long chamber, lit with warm light from above accompanied by elaborate candles placed along the table. The windows were closed and dimmed, with darkly lacquered wooden shutters contrasting the lightly tanned color of the walls. Paintings and rosaries hung between the windows, an aquila and a painting of Inquisitor Kronus on the opposite wall. The table was made of expensive mahogany and the chairs were cushioned and sturdy, but light. The freshly cooked duck and grox cutlets at the center of the table, with potato sliders and chopped, steamed vegetables of varying kinds. Amasec and Rahzvod were available to drink, courtesy of my private stock as a little thank you for my staff's good service.

I stood at the head of the table, awaiting my staff as they arrived promptly together. All save Emmaline, who had accompanied me personally to the dining hall. Lazarus took a position just at my flank, Emmaline taking a seat to my right, though when no one else sat down she promptly stood back up. She wore a delectable blue dress and a black sash that hugged her waist, her blonde hair in an eloquent braid.

Demetrius stood behind the chair to my left, the elder wearing a comfortable but splendidly embroidered jacket befitting his station over a smart suit, his greying beard recently well-trimmed. A few of his new assistants accompanied him to the table, and even my communications officer Quintin was there further down. Clara Strong was invited, and though she did not wear her flak jacket, I noticed her evening dress had a holster with a laspistol, as if even now I or the residents of the villa might be in imminent danger. Selencia Aethil sat to Emmaline's left, a striking contrast to the more lightly colored woman, just as beautiful with entirely different colors.

I raised my cup of Rahzvod, and everyone raised their glasses to accompany me.

"To us! To your hard work and dedication these many years, under Kronus and myself. For putting up with me, and everyone and everything I bring home, be they astartes or new members of the team." I said, giving a smile and a subtle look Emmaline's way. "I regret to confirm what you already know, that I must depart again. I'll miss the cooking and the friendship, though one can do without the commentary." The joke brought a few knowing looks and grins, though I saw the new members of the staff frowning, not quite getting I was jesting with old friends. They would find out eventually, next I came back.

"Sarcasm is just a free service we offer with our compliments." Demetrius laughed, bringing a mirth out of me as well.

"You did not wish to bring Lucius to the toast?" Lazarus asked from behind my shoulder, apparently in one of his tactless moods.

"The chairs wouldn't fit him and I felt it good to leave him with his own dish, specially made in the kitchens." I informed him, though I also wished to speak freely with my staff without worrying about spooking them. Lucius Raj had been exceptionally well behaved for a Thunder Warrior, but that had still resulted in three broken walls, a smashed ground car, and a broken arm from one of his periodic bouts of rage. "I'll be taking him with me on my errand, which brings me to my next topic. Selencia?"

"Yes?" The clever woman asked, raising her eyebrow inquisitively.

"Without Urien or the Caledonia and their medical officer, I'll require a medical assistant. I would ask that you accompany us, if that is not too much trouble." I humbly asked. I could have ordered her, of course, but she did have many responsibilities and I could put my trust in whatever medic I had on hand on our requisitioned freighter or a local one on the planet Havenos. "It might be dangerous, so don't take the request lightly."

"Hadrian, I might not look it, but I'm twenty years your senior. I've seen a few things. I've twice followed Inquisitor Kronus one his jaunts. I can handle it again." She assured me.

"Very good-" I began, but Clara spoke up.

"You'll be without your usual retinue. You'll need another gun."

"I'll have myself, a tech-priest, a potent psyker, Selencia, and an astartes." I told her.

"Permission to speak freely, Inquisitor?" She asked casually.

I would regret it, but I said: "...granted."

"So you, a bucket of bolts, clumsy Emma, doctor Aethil, and a crazy giant as liable to kill you as the enemy?" She asked without scruples. I simply sighed, and my gaze swiveled to Emmaline on her opinion. Lazarus let out a small screech of binary to show his displeasure at the pejorative.