POOHEAD189

Have At You!!! A Game of Swashbuckling Adventure

Herri Smallthumbs gave a smile with his too-wide mouth, a number of his teeth replaced with silver and ivory. Neil had once heard him say if someone ever lent him a gold tooth he would make them a captain of their own galleon. Neil would have done it, but Herri had rejected 8 gold tooths, insisting they wouldn't fit. He was well known, but not well liked. Only Neil and a handful of others who had no qualms dealing with someone who stank like dead fish and acted worse could stand him. Neil actually liked the scraggly old sea dog.

"So you survived that job on Castell Fiore. I was hoping to see you again." Herri said in a way one couldn't help but question the validity of. He was good at that. "How was it?"

"Lot of fire, lot of shot, more swords than you'd expect.." Neil shrugged. "About as dangerous as that night at the summer solstice. You remember the one, when we-"

Herri grinned. "Yeah, and then the mule when he-"

"And the prince drank with-"

"the blind orphan, right!" Herri cackled with laughter. Neil laughed with him. Truth be told, Neil remember the night only vaguely, but the flippant memories were wilder than anything he could realistically make up. But he knew Herri had been there, and when Neil dragged him out from under the roof of the ruined tavern, they had been comrades ever since. Neil had only just started his life of crime off solid ground, and Herri had lost one friend too many.

After their jovial mood died down, Herri took a sip of his brandy, and gave a satisfied sigh. He then dropped his smile, and leaned forward. "You wanted a score, right?"

"I'm not in it for the food."

Herri produced a piece of parchment, and handed it to Neil like it held the location of Barnabus Isaac's treasure. Neil took it and raised an eyebrow, opening it up speculatively.

ADVENTUROUS SOULS WANTED: To accompany an expedition into Aeternian Empire ruins on the Azul Islands. Handsome rewards and historical credit to those who assist in this bold enterprise. Contact Sir Edmund Lawrence at the Golden Cove Hotel for more information.

"I heard you can make incredible gold on such a venture. Might want to check it out. They should still be here another day or two, then the contract is gone like piss in the ocean."

"Do you know how long the voyage is? Daily pay? Working conditions?"

Herri Smallthumbs gave a faux 'whatever' look. "Sure, I can play with your ass too if you want."

"Is that how you got the nickname?"

"Get outta here!"

A Hard Rain - Urban Fantasy RP

Behind the glass, the television flickered, the excess power from the unleashed energy slowly peeling away the cords as Rupert idly watched the explosions cut off the feed. They coincided with a muted, blunted noise far away. The ground gave the faintest tremor, but what little civilians went about their lives around him stumbled as if the earth shook like a wet hound. He glanced behind him as men and women and children began to murmur with discontent, some cautiously moving toward the direction of the explosions, and others hurriedly walking away to keep to their own business. Rupert was curious, but not enough to attach himself to the migration of people that scuttled like mice to and fro to beg for the news of what had just transpired.

Under his wide brimmed hat, he gave a feral grin. The life or death of Mateo Cassalaro and his bride-to-be Sophia Tattersol was inconsequential to him, but it made things interest. Big events shook old hinges loose, one that should have fallen long ago. He might have no stake in terrorist attacks, but the inevitable fallout would flush some quarry out of hiding, potentially. It was a scavenger's life, but it was a role he played well. Maybe tonight's unexpected festivities would bring out some game.

Rupert turned on a dime and stepped into the street, confident there was no chance of a mishap, all of the cars on the road having stopped so the drivers could get out and ask one another redundant questions on what had just happened. South street turned into Wallhaven, with its closed shops and abandoned basketball court. Next was Riverward where the men of stone made their work, and he turned into a small alleyway to find a nice nook to stop and light a cigarette. Maybe it would help him calm his nerves so he could better see.

Rupert produced a pewter lighter with bronze filigree, a latin inscription reading "And God Said" on the broadside. A cigarette fell out of his sleeve and into his waiting hand, and the knave thumbed the lighter once, producing a flame to light the stick in his lips. Breathing in deeply, he took a moment to himself. The old man had been quiet of late. He wondered why that was. It was not unwelcome, but it only made him feel trepidation at what he was cooking. His thoughts fled when a cough drew his attention, and he turned indifferently down the alleyway. The light of the moon cut the darkness like a knife, and a figure stumbled towards him, half concealed by the sharp shadow. Briefly, Rupert felt he might need to keep on edge, but lo and behind, his eyes did not deceive him when the bloody Winter Knight almost fell at his feet.

She staggered into the wall, a gaping wound in her side she was desperately trying to hold with her hands. Her fair face ragged with stress and sweat, she coughed wetly and slid down the wall, her ass hitting the grime-laden pavement. He had seen her a couple of times before, albeit distantly. She was more likeable than her predecessors. Her hair was incredibly thick, blonde with a tinge of forest green that beglamored the senses. Her eyes were molten bronze, and she was a statuesque woman, taller than most men. Her fashionable cargo pants tucked into her black combat boots, she wore a crimson croptop with suspenders. He'd heard a human familiar describe her as 'a fit worth a thousand ships.... a retro style as deadly as her claymore." Rupert was only half confident he knew the terms, but he understood the spirit of it.

"Not a good night for a walk," He remarked with a menace to his voice. Rupert took a slow drag from his cigarette. "Parties don't seem ideal, either."

"I didn't do it..." She replied, breathing heavily. It gave a sense of desperation to her.

"I'll pretend like I know what you mean, but what you did or did not do doesn't matter. I haven't done many things. It's never what's at stake. The only thing you need to worry about is people's expectations." Rupert remarked sibilantly.

To his surprise, the Winter Knight gave a soft chuckle and a devil-may-care grin. "I'll pretend like you don't know what I mean. There was a bombing at the gala. They think I did it. I swear on the Queen that's not true."

"Then how'd you get the wound? You just stumbled and swooned. Your blood and sweat festooned. Don't lie." Rupert said.

"I know who you are." She said with an ironic smile of victory on her blood-flecked lips, her eyes drooping. "The man out of time who rhymes. Lucky me, I guess."

It was the last thing she said before she lost consciousness, sliding onto the floor as the grip on her side loosened. She hit the alley street softly as blood began to bubble on her side, and Rupert was left with a choice. Do something about it, or not. He took another slow drag from his cigarette, before flicking it into a puddle. The knave reached into his pocket and produced a silver rupee, twirling it across his fingers to flick up with his thumb. He caught the rupee mid-air, and checked the results.

"Interesting..."

Hider

Rupert finds the Winter Night who professes her innocence.

Hello all!

@Solairo I see you're a man of culture as well

Hello all!

@Solairo Glad to meet you!

A Hard Rain - Urban Fantasy RP

I'll post asap

Have At You!!! A Game of Swashbuckling Adventure

I'll give an update this weekend

Anyone interested in a pirate roleplay?? 1x1

@Adeline what plots and tropes do you like?

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Emmaline-with-false-modesty and I walked as quietly as we could with Demick, keeping our eyes peeled for any movement or noise that was out of the ordinary. It was no small task, considering the jungle itself was filled with the noises of strange beasts and the rustling of endless ferns and undergrowth beneath the canopy. I had my sidearm out, though only to keep up appearances. Much like this dreamscape, my autopistol was not real, nor was any danger in the merc's memory. My Emmaline did her best to hide her disgust and lack of enthusiasm slinking behind us.

Demick sneezed loudly, and I could tell he seemed absolutely horrified at the notion. For a brief moment I wondered what problem it could cause, considering the screeching of bugs and the distant hooting of unknown fauna. But I was quickly reminded of my own upbringing on Demaratus. The long summers and the beasts that had become specialized at hunting men. Even if that weren't the case, a sneeze was a strange noise, unlike the repeated calls. It would draw curiosity if nothing else.

Still, after a few tense moments, it seemed like nothing would happen. Demick began to move forward again, taking a few careful steps. Like a shot the jungle came alive as a tall, lanky avian humanoid screamed like the birth of slannesh and leaped at Demick with an uncontrollable barbarity. Demick cried out in fear, and only by the emperor's own luck did he manage to throw himself out of the way of a ceremonial club that would have broken his head in three pieces. I recognized the thing. It was a Kroot, one of the indentured servants to the Tau Empire. I was not of the Ordo Xenos, but I knew enough to realize I would expect Demick to be dead and consumed had we not seen him at the party mere hours before. The Kroot broke a sapling in two and whirled around with movement somehow both sinuous and weighted. I watched as Demick crawled along the ground, before uncovering a fern to find the red light of a proximity mine flashing.

"FRAK! Get out of here!" He warned us, and scrambled to his feet as the Kroot loped after him. Demick got eight feet from the mine before it detonated, right between the stick-like legs of the xenos warrior. I flinched and reached for Emmaline out of instinct, and she did the same as the bloody shrapnel of the Kroot was flung across the reeds. Demick had been thrown half a dozen meters before a tree stopped his flight just as suddenly as it had begun. He hit the ground, and the scene began to waver. I held Emmaline protectively.

"Are you alright?" I asked Emmaline-with-false-modesty, turning to her.

She seemed somewhat startled, but played it off. "Nothing I haven't seen before," she remarked, and looked at me. Our gazes lingered at one another, but then I felt something odd. Something intrusive, but not wholly uncomfortable. There was a pressure, before Emmaline's blue eyes swallowed me up and there was a-

FLASH

I was in the Tiddusdowns, chasing my boyhood friends through the gullies. We were six and seven, mostly. I forgot which I was at the time. My brother Marius was waiting for me, tumbling down the leaf covered decline and cutting me off. I skidded to a stop and scrambled up the slope as both parties of my friends turned to pursue, desperately trying to tag me, before I heard a deep roar emanating from the woods. I turned in time to see my friends stop cold and gaze at the saplings that bended-

FLASH

I was thirteen, dancing with my classmates at the spring equinox scholam ball. Parents and teachers had joined us, the auditorium a whirlwind of movement and the sound of clapping feet. On Demaratus, you lived as if you were going to die young, and the youth had to learn how to live just in case. A girl named Chandra danced with me. My best friend Galanand retired to go hang out with some of the boys out back. I did not go, I wanted to keep dancing, until Chandra left and I followed. Thunder rolled in the distance, as we-

FLASH

I fired seven shots, my firearm still too loud in my ears. Kronus watched with speculative expectation, hands behind his back. I was sixteen. I reloaded clumsily, nearly firing at the floor. Kronus took my autogun from me and gave me an anecdote of a Krieg trooper who had killed his own comrade during the invasion of Armageddon, and was left to hang along the walls as an Ork invader. I nodded, my eye still smarting from our sparring session not an hour ago. I was hungry, but I would not admit it. I needed to piss, but if I said so I would come back to a relentless challenge. The last had been two buckets of scalding water balanced on my hands as I ascended the stairway of the Indomitable.

FLASH

Lazarus tinkered with the Salamander, explaining in detail every different model and useage of this particular chassis known in the Imperial records. He noticed after recollection thirty two that I had begun to drift off, and warned me I could lose my rank as interrogator if I was not duly focused. I was seventeen. I helped him, watching him rerout the power cables to increase the engine efficiency. Afterwards he allowed me to eat as he began to tell me of his days in service to the Omnissiah. I drifted off every once in awhile, but his metallic chuckling of a small anecdote always brought me ba-

FLASH

Nineteen years old. Last year I had killed my first heretic. Kronus had finished teaching me on how to ritually banish a low-level warp entity with a small incantation, and I was restless. I was an avid reader, but that night I could not concentrate. I found Selencia in the hallway, and we spoke for awhile. She was a handful of years older, intelligent, attractive. She looked at me in a way I was not used to, but I enjoyed it. I had never kissed a woman before. That night was my first, and more. We never spoke of it to anyone.

FLASH

I was twenty five. Kronus had trusted me on a third assignment as he conducted business in the Ultima Segmentum. With my sanctified relic and a few well placed shots, I had ruined an underhive daemon worshiper's ritual. His lips cut off, he wore a necklace made of sewn tongues and the canines of children. He screamed in frustration at my as of yet unused name of Blasius Deckard, before the maelstrom of warp energies flowing out of the desecrated sacrificial circle. I will never forget aiming at his head, only to watch the hands of the warp reach out, and bore witness to his soul being ripped out of his body so violently I was stunned. The maelstrom had consumed him, and his fallen husk hit the floor as his mutants scrambled away. I knelt down to check the pulse of a hostage. She was dead-

FLASH

I wept over Kronus's body, having killed those responsible, and yet knowing it could not bring him back. For the first time, I had considered dabbling with warp treachery. Surely the end justified the means? Surely a man as stalwart as him could benefit the Imperium for another century. Why did the Emperor take our best, and leave only me?

FLASH

Brother Bracchus and I had killed the cultists, and I held my gun in the face of a naked courtesan. She was blonde, blue eyed, and scared. But I felt I detected more. Something-

FLASH

She was brilliant, beautiful, but unorthodox. She tripped but kept crawling. She laughed when she shouldn't. She drank too much. I helped her to her room after eating and dancing with her. Maybe I should recruit her myself. She did have some talent.

FLASH

We kissed under the moonlight, our dancing and banter unmatched. Her lips were soft, her sighs were intoxicating. Even the longlas that nearly took our heads did not ruin the realization I was infatuated. She was what I wanted, what I still want.

FLASH FLASH FLASH FLASH FLASH

I held her injured form more times than I could remember, under fire from the soulless necrons, pinned down during a chaos raid, hiding behind flimsy material cover as immaterial daemons rampaged in our direction. Each time she looked up at me, and she felt self. And I felt whole. I was shot, but she cried my name, and cared for me. Willing to risk her immortal soul to keep me alive. We faced a chaos marine, and killed my dark mirror, Tertius Vorn. We made it back to Pacitus. I wanted to keep it a secret. I wanted to ask her to-

FLASH

Emmaline and I found ourselves in gloom, a dank underground room with strategically placed lights, as if the power would cost too much or its consumption would garner too much attention. Demick stood there, or rather he was on a knee with two dozen others as a masked man spoke to them with a commanding tone. Demick had been stitched up, but still held minute burns across his visage. Somehow I knew this was weeks later. The room did not look evident from a hive, it was too civilized. I could not make out the masked man's words. I was too enraged. I looked at Emmaline, who had drawn back from me. She seemed unperturbed, but wary. "What did you just do to me?"

"Nothing much," she remarked coyly, but from my eyes she drew back another step. "I did not mean to see all of it. I just wanted a small peek. I"... even her false modesty was breaking as the implications flooded into her, and her sapphire eyes brimmed with tears. "I love you! Well, it's not like I love you, but I... I do! But I didn't mean..." She shook her head and reached for the sapphire choker at her neck, a gift I had given her on Moldar.

"The governor of Haephestus was not without his gratitude." The cloaked figure boomed, cutting us off. "The operation was a success. The Talons of the Black Hand appears to be one as well. But now it is time to put you to the test." In the back, men in shadow stood vigilantly. "You will have two days to sup and prepare, before the shuttle will arrive and take you to a Von Hagen vessel. Your destination is Moldar..."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

I admit, I was concerned.

Having given Emmaline my trust and the near endless resources on which to devote herself to perfecting her psychic abilities, she had found a way to cordone off and compartmentalize her mind in order to keep herself safe from the toll dabbling in the warp enacts on the mind. I would have to talk to her about it later, more for her own safety than any concern of heresy, despite her proclivities. I figured something out of the ordinary would occur, however, so I adapted with a herculean effort, despite the myriad of Emmalines surrounding me. Truth be told, I had experienced a similar dream before, without the mercenary chained up and pleading for death. It was unexpectedly erotic, though I found my outfit flickered from my suit, to my battle armor, to my own nude form. The Emmalines all looked at me and blushed. I closed my eyes, or my fascimile's eyes and focused, letting all thoughts leave my mind before I placed an iron clamp on my mental projection. I opened them, and I wore my naval-cut inquisitor uniform, resplendent with the fur cloak signifying my ascension to Kronus's position.

"How did you learn how to take his mind to question?" I asked the Emmaline that seemed inclined to elucidate various matters. In my years of study, I had heard of similar skills, but Emmaline had learned it rather quick by my estimation and concern. Before she spoke, Emmaline-who-is-guilty appeared, her hair unbrushed and her evening dress marked as if she had just gotten out of a scuffle.

"I've been reading a small bit of Leiber's Treatises of the Mind." She said. I made certain not to sigh, noting it as a tome I had warned her about delving into. It was not strictly heretical, but it had been banned by various segmentums for being too loose on protocol and too stringent in how one describes dabbling in chaos, using technicalities and half-truth to justify very dangerous practices. It was the perfect book for Emmaline, I thought to myself.

"You're not mad are you?" Oh throne, you're angry, right? Don't be, please..." Emmaline-who-worries-about-things pleaded, clutching my sleeve. As if she worried it would wrinkle the fabric, she let go and shrank back.

"Don't fret, I'm rather impressed," I admitted, smoothing my coat.

"Don't be, I'm certain anyone could do it." Emmaline-with-false-modesty gently admonished.

"Let me go!" The man cried. "Burn you all, just let me die!"

"Silence!" I roared, using my will. Or, I attempted to. The dungeon vibrated gently, the Emmaline's flickering for a moment, but returning steadily. I apparently could not use it in here, but the effort did cause my voice to rise three times louder. That alone cut the man off from speaking, and I approached his cell. The two Emmalines-who-guard stepped aside with parade ground discipline and stood at attention. My eyes burned with righteous fury. "You will speak when spoken to, and when you speak it will be to answer our questions. You have turned your back on your species, you have assaulted a member of the Emperor's most holy inquisition," I said, my voice filled with quiet menace. "And worst of all, you attacked the woman I love."

Behind me, Emmaline-who-loves ran to embrace me, wearing the same black dress and hairstyle when we shared out first dance and kiss. Emmaline-who-disciplines, wearing a black justicar bodyglove and wearing her hair in a severe bun stopped her, holding a cudgel out to keep the other from reaching me. That was fortunate, and I turned to the mercenary, who looked horrified. I was uncertain if striking him would work, but I took Emmaline-who-explains-things advice. "Very well, we'll pierce his mind and find his secrets. Which Emmaline comes with me?"

It was the wrong question to ask. Immediately the blonde women began to bicker, trying to yell over one another. Even the worried one and the infatuated one showed wrath at the other Emmalines. The Emmalines-who-guard brandished their weapons, but it didn't seem to inspire any fear. Emmaline-who-explains-things lectured the others as Emmaline-who-loves slapped aside another Emmaline and waved her hand, trying to garner my attention.

As much as I wanted to experience my lover in such naked affection, this was not a social visit. I stroked my fascimile's chin and considered. Emmaline-who-explains-things would be useful, but the others were not adverse to explaining. Emmaline-who-disciplines and Emmaline-with-false-modesty seemed to be the most professional, and I almost chose the former before I felt we did not need two hard touches. I pointed at Emmaline-with-false-modesty. "You, Emmaline, come with me. You and I will go inside his head."

"I wasn't expecting to be the best choice, but I suppose it makes sense." She said with a barely suppressed smirk, gently fixing her hair with a swift tug of her hand. She sauntered up to my position, and I nodded, turning to the man.

Blackguards of The Moonsea

As the drow vomited what little food she had been given from her time in jail, Malcador looked up at the sky and deduced they had landed on the eastern side of the city. He recognized the minarets, and not for the first time did he feel the irony of being locked up in a city known for its independent values and it's freedom of trade and philosophy. He guessed there was a reason the biggest cities were full of rogues and pirates. He supposed he was one, now, in a certain way of thinking.

Malcador was tired, hungry, swathed in rags and undeniably irritable. However, he did have to move or be locked up again. He was used to teleportation, at least enough not to vomit. However, it was still never easy, and his stomach still smarted from the knee to it. Not to mention the smoke and cuts from the whole ordeal. It was just the beginning, however, and he rallied himself, pulling himself up to his feet and running his hands through his dark brown hair. He loosed his hair out of the small loop behind his head, letting his mane fall freely as he approached Serphia.

"Let me see that," He said more gently, getting down on one knee tentatively. He was still wary around her, but he was starting to believe she wasn't playing a game with him. She had the perfect chance to kill him right when they landed, even nauseated. "Remove your hand, I'll cauterize it. It'll have to do until we can get a real bandage on that."

To his surprise, she reluctantly allowed him to aid her. When her slim hand moved, he summoned the weave again. It was fortunate he had recently perfected a few flame spells, however he needed to be careful. The smallest flame would do, and he did not wish to hurt her, surprisingly. He liked to think it was because of his sense of loyalty to a partner, and it partially was that, but it was also because seeing her in the light, he was even more attracted than he thought he might be. Shut up, you idiot. Don't even think it, he scolded himself. He banished the thoughts away as he began to incant the spell, and within moments his hands were as hot as cinders. They emanated a soft glow, simultaneously darkening like coals.

Gingery he pressing his hand against her wound, and the blood turned to steam as he pressed into her skin for two heartbeats, before pulling his hand away as swiftly as he could. "Sorry," he remarked. He gave her a few seconds to recover, and glanced at Arloke before taking a deep breathe. They needed to move. "The bastards don't know what side of the city we left, or even if we're out of the city, so we have a head start. We need to go. If we hurry, we can make it to the next village in the middle of the night, find a barn and maybe some new clothes."

Malcador was surprised at how correct he was.

They moved through the brush, keeping away from the road as much as they could, even when out of sight of Thentia. As the minutes turned to hours, the wizard imagined once or twice he could hear pursuit. The neighing of horses and the words of men carried on the wind, but he never saw anyone. If the assassin heard, she gave no sign. Before Malcador knew it, night had fallen, and only as the moon rose and the sun dipped past the sea did they finally see lights in the distance. A village!

They both knelt behind the brush at the edge of the treeline, watching the quaint little town he believed was called Thenton. There was a single watchtower, but from their position it looked unmanned. The village lacked walls, being so close to Thentia to get regular patrols and commerce. Even if they had money, they couldn't stay at an inn. It had to be at a farmhouse, and with the drow's keen vision, they spotted a suitable location. The two circled around town to a farm on the northern edge of the Thenton, slipping past the lights inside the occupied farmhouse. Malcador nearly tripped into a wire, but ducked and realized it was laundry. He and the drow nabbed a few items of clothing, and then trekked to the barn near the outskirts, past grazing cattle. With an effort, he opened the vast front door open and let his companion slip in with her spider, before he shut it.

With a word of power, he summoned a wan light source to float into the center of the two story barn. Bales of hay and collections of tools were splayed out, and more of the same were likely up the ladder.

"Well, it's not exactly Castle Never, but we'll have to get used to that for a bit." He said with barely contained frustration. He was tired and hungry, and the last water he had was when he had dunked his head in a small stream a few miles out of town.

"I'll need a spellbook and some food, or I might as well be cursed with anti-magic like in the jail. I believe my light spell is the final in my repertoire until those needs are met. How are you? Holding up well?"