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4 mos ago
Current A quiet day is a good day, especially when it doesn't have to be productive.
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1 yr ago
I made a new RP for the first time... In years. roleplayerguild.com/posts/5… please give it a look!
5 yrs ago
Fallout Tactics has death claws that can talk, scary killer robots, and the ability to have a tank. It just doesn't... Sit well with the rest of lore.
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6 yrs ago
Very sick, will post when not hurting.
6 yrs ago
I'm awake at weird hours again.
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Bear Island, Mormont Keep


Cley Stark had come at Karlen's summons, finding his cousin yet again set in his books this time with something to show for it he hoped, over six months here they had little to show. Karlen had learned all his father a master of the knowledge of the old gods could or would teach him. Though he had little understanding of it all he knew enough, Cley however believed he might learn these gifts. Stories of old kings using magic and gifts to perceive the world he wondered if he might get the chance to use those gifts himself if Karlen was to be believed they grew rarer every year. Yet stories states it was in their blood, that Brandon Snow his uncle had claimed he might smite a dragon with naught but weirwood and Old Gods might, ever intrigued the two young men the power of the old gods might have that might protect their homeland from Dragons should they go from benevolent to tyrannical.

Cley entered the room, standing a good head taller than his cousin his frame blocking most of the light as flames cast a shadow of the mamps. His mother had been Mormont, the second wife of King Torrhen, so visiting his cousins had been an easy way to bring Karlen back North without his father knowing. Karlen kicked a chair back for him, the younger of the two place a mug of warm all down for him. "We have things to discuss cousin, first of all. Where we might find the knowledge you seek... Many things were lost to the first men in the upheaval of ancestors from the South."

Karlen's dark brown hair was shaggy and uncombed, his eyes fierce but focused moving along the old maps as his cousin pointed out spots, old keeps and ancient sites that might hold clues to secrets once lost. Cley felt his eyes lose focus a ringing voice filled his ears as Karlen's voice slipped into the fade the whisper of it came through clear. Follow the ravens cries, the voice gave in soft tones as if it something whispered by a figure beside him. Karlen spun, looking to his right... Sending his mug clattering to the floor and ale across the wooden floors of the library.

Karlen stopped his rambling, his hand fell on his cousins shoulder, Cley breathed only then that realized it had seized in his lungs. "You heard it again... Didn't you?" Asked the Mystic, the voice had been loudest at Winterfell... It had given him dreams of death and destruction for his family, siblings, and others... Even shown him glimpses of his father's first wife and her traitorous children she bore. He had left Winterfell to train with the Karstarks... Then again to house Dustin... Then House Manderly before coming here to Bear Island... Running from the voice and all the doom it would whisper yet... Could he do anything with it? Was it madness? Prophecy? Or just the wishes of son so far from the throne he might never see. Since he'd met Karlen he'd been able to brew teas and set up little wards of weirwood that calmed his mind.

Cley was about to speak when a knock at the door came, a servant spoke interrupting the pair. "Your cousin is planning to ride to the coast, a ship from Lannisport has come." She spoke before seeing the beer spilled along the floor, rolling her eyes she turned to get a rag and a bucket. Karlen looked over his maps a moment, then back at his books. "Go... Getting out of here for awhile will do you some good. I'll work on all this... And brew you a fresh pot of tea, it tastes like a hags hair but seems you'll need more of it."



After meeting Lorelai...



Cley Stark slowly helped her down, Gwayn having made the introductions he decided to clarify. "Cley Stark... Eighth Son of Lord Paramount Torrhen." He was as Northmen were described tall and full muscle, yet there was a kind if tired grace to him. His eyes met hers only a moment before turning away not of dislike but with nervousness whether from the ravens he'd seen watching him or from the beauty of south that currently held his hand he gently released her once she was firmly on her own two feet. The Wanderer as he was known being hosted and raised in Northern Keeps across the nation.

"I thank you from my family as well Lady Lannister of Lannisport." He spoke eyes moving up and down her as walked back towards the horses they had arrived on, the future lord of Bear Island might catch his cousin blushing after he took a stolen glance at the blonde. "You are lucky the bears did not find you... In Spring they eat and hunt all they want. The number of them nearly triples as well, though I suppose all things grow better in fine weather... And the snows here are not as heavy." He added before looking over towards Gwayn and Margery with a pause. "We brought three horses, she'll have to ride with someone else." The grin from Gwayn as pressed an elbow in Cley made him groan.

"Fine... Bloody Bear. Lady Lannister you may have my horse. I'll walk." Answered Cley, clearly to embarrassed by the idea to have her ride clinging to his back. Gwayn giving a groan and roll of his eyes at the noble and honorable son the lord Paramount to nervous to come onto a woman after having finally found one he fancied.
Paladin


Paladin had checked his rifle for the third time unloading and clearing it as he ran over the rifle with practiced hands. Having first encountered the weapon in the Middle East he'd found the FN FAL was truly a wonder of mid-nineteenth century tech that at least for him made the AK and AR platforms seem almost foolish. Clicking it back together the red headed giant looked over at the Canuck and slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Well Kid, I was with eighty-second airborne, then off to ranger Ranger school, Green Beret, French Foreign Legion, and most recently mercenary training Ukrainians. Now, professional extra-terrestrial exterminator." He explained with a confident smirk clicking his headset camera into place then tapping his mag against his helmet an old good luck ritual before slotting it home.

As the craft rocked in the storm the southern American shifted his posture to keep up right. Years of jumping and fast roping out of perfectly good aircraft had trained him how to keep steady even in bad weather and it did not get much worse than was going on outside. Glancing over the crowd his eyes settled on the Belarusian a moment. "Понадобились ли инопланетяне, чтобы объединить российский и американский спецназ?" He asked in Russian, as he turned himself to look at her, while they weren't in their uniforms you could always spot a special forces soldier from the rest. Her accent had given away her nation of service much like he imagined his own would give him away to anyone, the Appalachian accent was something he had yet to shake. He remembered how the French had teased him endlessly for how he spoke.

Shaking his head he waited for the response as he listened the movement of the Osprey, part of him wondered about the whole project. He noted plenty of NATO gear and nothing Eastern Bloc, well at least whoever was in charge knew where to get their toys from. Personally he was hoping they might get something... Bigger than rifles, perhaps some howitzers or gunships? Certainly be nicer in the field to have some real firepower backing them up instead of just depending on small arms. It reminded him of a quote, 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from a big gun.' Or something to that effect, either way if these things came from another world with lasers and plasma in flying saucers he hoped they had the fire power to deal with it.

While part of him wondered if should start rewatching Stargate when he got back just to add irony to the whole aliens are real thing being laid on him... He caught himself just about to start pulling the weapon apart again they were to close for that now. Small talk only, no losing himself in repetitive actions to kill the time.

















































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