POOHEAD189

~ BLACK FLAGS OF THE ABECEAN ~ (A TES pirate and privateer RP…) (Interest Gathering/Potential)

oooooooooooooooo

Black Serpents: Warhammer RP

Wissenland was a rugged, boring stretch of land. Old Solland was a haunted wasteland, and the rest of the province was naught but raw resources and the men and women who got dirty to collect them. Riekland's many ports and walled townships gave innumerable places to visit. However, Wissenland was almost devoid of that kind of life. Every aristocrat that was not ostracized or not required to give direct supervision over their estates inevitably spent the majority of their time in one of the two places in Wissenland that had any real value: Nuln, the black jewel of the Empire. Word had it the Countess Emmanuelle wanted nothing more than to make it's status as an Independent City State a more permanent position, and to cut ties from the province entirely. So far, the Emperor Karl Franz has put off his decision, and so the good Countess has decided to leave the running of Wissenland to the local aristocracy, particularly the Toppenheimer family of Pfieldorf. Instead she reportedly throws extravagant parties and entertains guests from across the Old World, and despite her hands-off rulership, the people of Nuln love her.

Much of this Kayden had heard, but a corporal named Bertolt had grown up near the West Gate, and had intimate knowledge of the layout and the general news of the area. Last he heard, not much had changed for the four years he had been away. Various wealthy and high profile men and women from across the empire, and even a few from Brettonia and Kislev made semi-permanent places in Emmannuel's extravagant court. Much of them were successful merchants, Nuln being a hotbed for both trade and manufacturing. That bit became evidently clear, as Kayden, Calliope, and their two respective forces approached from the South Gate, the least of the gates that was typically used for trade and not much else. Immediately within the gate were the two least sophisticated areas: The industrial area, where all the raw goods were processed, and the Faulestadt District, where all of the trades that were deemed 'too smelly' to tolerate be conducted. Tanneries, Butcher shops, the lesser taverns, those sorts of businesses.

When Kayden had informed Calliope, Sir Otto seemed aghast at the notion, urging her they cross the reik at once and come in through a more auspicious entrance. She seemed to consider it, before glancing at Kayden. Otto's face went red, the knight commander and Kayden having nearly come to blows multiple times over what Kayden had to guess was his lady's 'affections.' Yes, it was true Kayden found her quite attractive, but the man had wanted him dead or gone before Kayden had even considered any fantasies on that score.

"The men are tired and eager. I feel it would be best to grant them leave first, and in the place they can make the least trouble." The Prince Captain advised her. "There is a poor quarter, but I don't want brigandry at or from the men, and it would suit you and your men to lose the...shackles of mine, and arrive across the central bridge in style."

Calliope pursed her ruby lips, and Kayden could see her calculating. Despite her beauty, she had an almost reptilian coldness about her when she was thinking. It unnerved him, and only made her dark magics that much more off putting. Despite it all, however, she was a joy to play chess with and have as a debate partner for much of a night. And he could also recognize the look of recognition she gave before agreeing with him.

"Very well, that sounds adequate." She said, glancing at Otto to warn him of any protestations. "Of course, Captain Kayden and a few select men of his will be joining us."

"What!?" Otto stammered.

"My lady..." Kayden began, but she shot him a look just as reproachful, and he immediately gave up. Kayden had been looking forward to relaxing, perhaps visiting one of the famous academies and bedding a few wenches. He heard Myrmidia and Verena worship was more tolerated here, even sporting a few temples. Calliope had promised him he could relax, but he supposed he had to wait just a bit more. Though he played it well, cutthroat politics and banquets were not his idea of a good time, unless he was throwing the parties himself of course.

Well, at least it would give him a chance to drink, he supposed.

The city was closer now, the walls easily forty feet high and built with immaculate workmanship. Anyone but a dwarf would be impressed by how imposing and well crafted they were. The gate, though vast, did look somewhat puny compared to what it could have been. It was even guarded by somewhat antiquated bolt throwers, rather than the famous cannon Nuln was so well known for. Two watchtowers, with murder holes and a squad of Nuln patrolmen with their famous pikes stood vigil over the various smaller cargo trains traveling in and out. Past the walls, large plumes of black smoke rose languidly over the horizon, no doubt from the many refineries.

Kayden had no real idea what she was planning, but a raven suddenly appeared and landed on her shoulder, and the sorceress looked at Kayden expectantly.

He inclined his head and bade her forward. Even his horse seemed to lower its head, somewhat.

"Welcome to Nuln, my lady."

A decade late and a few (a whole bag actually of) expectations short

@ihinka Welcome back Ihinka!

Discovery: A Broken Galaxy

<Snipped quote by POOHEAD189>
Challenge accepted.

@Xandrya

Discovery: A Broken Galaxy

WIP

Neil Edwards

Gender

Male

Age

26

Appearance

Dr. Edwards is a nondescript, caucasian man at first glance. Dark hair with eyes to match, trim in build, with a wiry musculature. It's easy to lose him in a crowd, but he has an easy smile and a way about him that helps him stand out. He doesn't bother with fancy attire, preferring casual clothes. He sports a scar or two, he has soft laugh lines. One look at him, you might assume he was former delinquent. However, he has a boyish charm about him, and a grin one does not forget.

Personality

To say Neil is eccentric is...well, that would hit the nail on the head if it was not an understatement. His casual devil-may-care nonchalance with life can be electrifying, and more than a few psychiatrists have felt he does require some form of help. However, he's intelligent, one might even say a genius in his field, and cunning on the fly. Prone to sarcasm, snide remarks, unorthodox behavior, and just good old fashioned explosions, he's a mixed bag. He's a born jokester, though behind his charming yet insufferable demeanor belies a keen mind, and to those he enjoys, he does tend to have a big heart.

Role

Chemical Engineering

Skills

Chemical Engineer: Neil has a working knowledge of various technologies that utilize chemical mixtures such as fuel cells, hydrogen power, nuclear reactors, and most importantly...

Explosives Engineering: A long-time pyromaniac, he was cunning enough to turn his lunacy into a profession. During his brief stint in the military, he was granted the lead in the 'EOU' (Explosive Ordinance Unit).

Basic Firearms Training: Neil can point and shoot a gun. Useful! He knows how to field dress a weapon, as well, but he only pulls that out to impress the ladies.

Scrapper: He received basic close combat training, but he tends to rely on his experiences on the streets. It gave him a few good moves, but a tougher skin.

Nimble: While he can fight, Neil's best asset is avoiding danger whilst being extremely close to it. He can duck and dodge with the best of them. Twitchy reflexes are a great help in surviving explosive mishaps.

Personal Belongings/Equipment

personal belongings/equipment here

Background

Dr. Edwards graduated with a Master's Degree in Chemical Engineering from Neo-Mecca's most prestigious university, and he did so by the skin of his teeth. He could recite the processes and the chemical components with the best of them, but keeping his attention in a class that was more theory than fieldwork was tough. He decided to remedy that, and eschewed a job offer from Alpotech and joined the Colonial Military on the Asteroid Colony Lambda-78 approximately seven million miles away from Mars. Their primary goal was to quell insurgencies and rebel factions near the Asteroid Belt. Neil couldn't care less about the politics, until it came to bite him in the ass.

One of the rebel cells sent a woman operative to infiltrate his unit, and of course he slept with her. She took the access codes to the explosives, and though Neil and his unit stopped her in time, he was discharged due to gross negligence. He spent a few short years doing odd jobs, entirely bored, until a classmate of his contacted him, and briefly mentioned they had been privvy to a secret project on deep space exploration. One thing led to another, and Neil managed to stow away on the Arcadian, masquerading as a civilian some nights, and a deckhand others.

Until he got a little too curious...

Miscellaneous

miscellaneous here

Malleus Maleficarum: Tales of the Grim and Macabre

The last time he had seen her, she had been hurtling down the road, but he had a sense of these kinds of chases. As soon as the black riders had peeled away, Will had doubled back and tore his way through the brush to reach the old mill and the creek. It wasn't an area he was too familiar with, but the tail end of the stream was close by the inn, and so he figured it was his best bet. Running into Emmeralda in a crash of flesh was not exactly how he had figured to valiantly find her, but it would do.

His head plunged under the water, and with her weight, it took him a few seconds before he could gasp for air again.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Emmeralda professed.

"Damn, girl!" He complained, his cloak and trousers soggy, not to mention his whole head. He got an eyefull of her soaking chest, the clothing clinging to her soft skin. It only took him by surprise for a second, though, and he pushed her up and helped himself to his feet. The day was cool, the rain was cold, but the creek water was frigid. Will coughed up some of the drink, but he was none the worse for wear. He shook his head like an old hound, but noticed her fatigued look. He softened. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, appreciating the question. Within seconds she was back to her salacious, sybilline self. "Takes more than a few blackguards to get rid of me," she boasted in jest. Will's eyes widened, which was the only warning Emmeralda got before Will pulled her down and spun. The saber of the cloaked figure cut across Will's shoulder, Will eliciting a yelp in pain after having flung himself in the way of the blow to protect her. Idly, he realized the cut would not have been fatal to her, and was likely aimed to wound and disorient, but when Will got in the way, it had been intended to cause more damage. Luckily his heavy cloak and jerkin kept him from the worst of it.

A fistful of gravel and sediment was thrown into the man's face, Emmeralda obviously too flummoxed to have any magical tricks ready on the fly. He cried out and grabbed at his eyes with one hand, flailing his sword with the other. However, even with the wound, Will was deadly with his blade. It was out of the scabbard in the blink of an eye, and Emmeralda watched him parry a wild swing, and she covered her eyes just before he killed the man with a thrust to the neck. When she peeked again, the figure was half in the water, red seeping into the creek. She saw Will grimace as he rolled his shoulder, softly cursing in his native tongue. The overcast of the day gave him the forlorn look of a wounded wolf.

"Are you alright?" She asked, echoing his words from not minutes ago.

"Aye, I'm good." He assured her with a pained grin. "Let's not wait for them to come back, aye? Got us a horse, by the way. Seems you went horse thievin' on your own."

"I am a self made woman, after all." She joked, and they kept close as Will escorted her to the black gelding. The horse seemed calm, and Will insisted he helped her onto the steed. She tried to take the reins, but gave a squeak as the horse kicked for a moment. Will grabbed the reins with a quick hand, smirking. "You're not stealin' this one, gypsy."

Blackguards of The Moonsea

Luckily it seemed their combined skills killed it, but Malcador was still shaken. The power he had displayed was unfamiliar, and the spells esoteric. Serphia's safety was nice, if unexpected. Certainly she appeared a bit more banged up than when last he saw her, but he would have imagined a dark elf to be the primary target of any enemy that came across her. Then again, she could either be lucky or the devils could feel some sort of small kinship with her. Though admittedly she was a far more attractive sort of evil than they.

He blanched when her eyes cut to him, but at the tongue lashing he grew defensive. "I AM a coward, and I'm an alive coward as well. Pardon me for keeping myself in one piece before I found my way back to you." He responded, brushing himself off and strapping the tome's leather cords to his belt. Which was a redundant, as he was then ordered to strip and change into the black leather and iron of the attackers. He could have told her to stuff it where Deneir couldn't find it, but she had a point. It was safer if he was dressed like one of them.

"Okay," The handsome man breathed, acquiescing. He unbuckled his belt and stepped tentatively over the dead devil. Its blood smelled of sulphur and brass, rather than the normal metallic iron scent of human blood. He would have to consider that later. Malcador stripped himself of his robes and cloak, rolling them up and shoving them in his small leather sack. He still bore breeches, but his upper body was lean, yet toned. He kept himself maintained for nothing if not vanity, with fair, cream colored skin. He donned the armor as quickly as he could, but nearly protested to put the helm on before he forced himself to do so. He didn't see any distinguishing marks on the corpses of the men he found, but he did not want to risk it.

He opened the visor, however, and examined the ring he caught. He was lucky enough to have seen it coming his way. "Hrmmm, no, I don't recognize it. Though I am not too familiar with the Moonsea's aristocracy. It'll come in handy, however." He assured her, hoping he was right. Knowledge was still something to get paid for, if nothing else. If they found out who it belonged to, a wealthy cousin might give them a reward for the return of the item and news of their family member's demise.

"Alright, I think I'm ready to get the hells out of here, if you are." He told her, dropping his visor and pocketing the ring. He only had a few spells with the limited time he was able to study the tome, but if push came to shove, he could at least perform a few tricks. Arlocke crawled up Serphia's leg and wiggled his thorax as if to goad them on.

The violence outside could only last so long. It was best they left while it was still going, or the chances of them being spotted was raised significantly when there were no other distractions. Or worse: They were actively looking for those who sought to escape. Mystra be praised, there was still some commotion on the street, so that had to count for something.

>:3

welcome!

Malleus Maleficarum: Tales of the Grim and Macabre

"-and with the revenues, me wife up and left, and even took the damned goat..."

Will shook his head solemnly, showing the fellow just how much he agreed with the sentiment. It had all been an act, but the ex-soldier knew all too well the flaws inherent in the system that the whole island had to deal with now. Even stableguards weren't exempt from being victims of the latest land litigation. Will clapped a hand on his shoulder, the ale sloshing in the wooden mugs from the brief contact.

"Won't be this way forever, my friend. The king's son is on the continent. He'll set matters right, I think." Will replied soothingly. It was treason to say such things, but the stableguard was already inebriated, thanks to the muddlehead poultice Will had slipped in it when the Albanic had offered the brew.

The guard waved it off. "Won't bring the wife back, or my favorite goat, but aye. 'Least there will be some reckoning." He paused a moment, before the tears began to brim, and he took another swig of his mug. Will was impressed at how quickly he finished the pints, and did his best to catch the fellow before he tumbled over, already beginning to sway. "Make- HUC-... make shure nbo one shteals ny hors...hhorses..."

"Werry no' on tha'," Will replied, his accent returning as he helped the man to the hay covered floor. "Jest go t' sleep, me boy." Soon the man was snoring, and Will knew he needed it. Muddlehead only caused someone to sleep if they hadn't in a long while. It saved him the trouble of knocking him out, at least. As he pulled the man into an empty stable, he looked up and spied the guard's discarded musket leaning against a wooden rail. Outside, thunder crashed and the horses whinnied nervously as he went for the weapon. On closer inspection, it was technically a musketoon, or the shorter carbine version of the standard wheelock. It would serve on horse, and shouldered it before finding a nice black gelding, calming the beast as thunder rolled in the distance once more with soft words of his mouth tongue.

"Socair a-nis a bhalaich, bidh a h-uile càil gu math." He whispered, running a hand over the beast's snout. There were old tales that the men of Alban could speak to the beasts of the forest like old friends, and it lead to them being fine horsemen. Much of the rumors came from old takes from a thousand years ago, and kept alive by the Albanic's themselves. Truth be told it was mostly rubbish, as far as Will was concerned. No language could soothe beasts better than another. Still, he felt more comfortable with his mother tongue when speaking softly, and so he used it when speaking to skittish horses or dogs. It seemed to work here, and soon he and the gelding were out of the stable, and Will thanked Saint Finbar there was no rain as of yet.

"Alright, now let's let you meet the missus that'll-" He started, interrupted by the clatter of a wagon. A team of horses streamed past he and his new mount, with Emmeralda hanging on for dear life in the back of it. Will's eyes met hers for a brief moment, and before three heartbeats passed, out of the darkness of the trees came three riders clad in black. Their cloaks billowing in the wind, they chased after the runaway carriage as it careened down the road.

Will took a full two seconds to overcome his stunned reaction. Had Emmeralda not been thirty meters down the road, she would have guffawed at his expression. He had never met a woman who was such a contradiction in great luck and the poorest luck imaginable. The juxtaposition was driving him up the bloody wall. He groaned audibly. "By the solemn blood of Bartholomew Bracha!" Quickly, he made up for lost time and mounted the black gelding, setting the mount off at a gallop, hoping beyond hope the wagon wouldn't crash or the riders wouldn't catch up to her in time. They wouldn't shoot her, he theorized. It took too much effort to capture her for them to simply kill the woman, but it was small comfort at the wild situation.

Discovery: A Broken Galaxy

@Theyra I was thinking of being a stow away that could also be found to serve a purpose, but if that destroys the narrative, I can simply replace an NPC