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2 mos ago
Current I just wanna sleep...
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5 mos ago
Just one more day again...one more...I hate long shifts...
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10 mos ago
One more day on shift...then a half day to feel human again...adulting sucks.
3 likes
1 yr ago
Starfield may have been the sci fi game I needed to replace Elite Dangerous
1 yr ago
My community needs an enema -.-
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@Zillanilla@Searat@Blackmist16@Aristocles

As the goblins arrived they are greeted by the roar of a the forge. And the sound of the hammer striking metal. The old smith Koglan Ironweaver working away. But unlike sometime ago where he was frenetically banging away making iron rings he's working on something a little more practical. A axe head billet in the fires, and twenty four rings of iron setting on a counter, of varying widths true but enough to fit around an ankle or wrist.

But now it's an axe. He pulls it from the fire and sets it to his anvil. As the first strike falls he hears the call from without. He lifts his hammer again and before he lets it fall calls out, "Enter or stay out, either way works. If you've come for a weapon well..." He briefly gestures at the wall of weapons he has set up for those who need it. Axes, sabers, scimitars, spears, knifes and hammers line the wall opposite Koglan. His inventory had been ordered open when the worry of war had arisen. All his surplus of weapons ready to be used.

His hammer falls again, he turns the axe head and it falls a third time as he works at the axe. He hums then looks over at the goblins, "What brings you all to my forge? Come to trade? To speak? Come say your piece." And then he drops it, Griz, Brendan and anyone else familiar with him likely feel it coming, but those who aren't may not be prepared as he finishes with, "I have spoken on this."
The hammer fell...Blang!

It struck the metal upon the anvil...brang!

A practiced hand lifted the loop of cherry red metal up off the anvil and into the fire once more. A pull of the billows. The woosh and flare of the flames.

Koglan looked into the fire watching the metal. He has to keep it hot while he works at the loop, if he doesn't it could cool in the wrong position. He pulled the billows again, sending another wave of heat through the forge. It had to be just right.

he pulls the loop from the fire and sets it to the anvil again. His hammer falls again. This loop one of many in a set he's making. He had promised Siwa something some time ago. Chimes, or bells, but here he is making rings of cast off iron, which he intends to make into dancing rings, to ring pleasantly while the young goblin dances.

He's a fool to say he may love her. No he's too old for that and too wise and wily. No, but he does care for the young female surely. He raises his hammer again and brings it down with a crash. And because he cares he will do something fine for her here now.

He takes a moment to rub his brow, sweat from the fire smeared across his brow. And in that moment looking over to the paw he claimed, claws, fur and bones having been separated from the tough meat within. That meat drying now near the forge in the heat. Yes it's all part of his next master work, though humans would likely call it little more then a trinket, Koglan found this idea, truly masterful. Those claws and the fur, are all part of the idea. And the bones will surely be put to work as well.

He looks back to his work, raising hammer again. He hums, "More, eight is only barely enough, she must ring like a goblin goddess when she dances." He brings his hammer down again, lifting the cooling ring, "Good good. Now...more." He grabs another piece of iron scrap, and begins to file off the burrs, his well practiced hand making quick work of it.

Soon there is another woosh. Causing the interested young goblins outside come to watch the smith work to gasp in awe as the flames jump and the heat grows. Powerful arms work as the old goblin performs his art.

Soon again the hammer raises, then comes down...vang!

Yet more work to do, weapons and armor can wait abit, even in the face of possible war, weapons and armor can wait for a little bit of art.

And the hammer falls again...spang!
Carl walked in shoulder to shoulder with Ross and Jenny, he looked around to watch the Titans over on their side working to get their armoring and arms ready.

Carl stopped for a moment as he watched Victor step up and into the legs of his suit. With a few pops and hisses the seals were put into place. He then shrugged on the top of the armor, sealing it up like a jacket and a pair of snow pants. After that he moved of so easily in it. like there wasn't a few hundred pounds of steel, titanium and kevlar set around him.

Carl look over at his own suit, kevlar and aramid plates and fabric sewed together, but it did the job, the times he's counted the bullets he'd been hit with, and finding hundreds dug into the armoring well there were alot. Carl walks over to the side of the hanger assigned to the Juggernauts. He looks over at Ross and smiles, "I'm good Boss. A little hyped up...I know it's bad to say this, but being part of an operation like this. it's only once in a lifetime pretty much right?" He rubbed the back of his head knowing how that sounded. Until Victor pipes up, "You get used to them though..." Carl hums, "Oh that's right, you were doing some really redacted shit back in the Army and Marines right?" Victor nods, "Still hush hush to this day so let's not go too far."

Carl nods as he lifts his M249, popping open the loading breech and looking down into it, blowing out some dust, "I'm also a little nervous, this is...pretty intense. But I'm not going to back down."

There's a clack as Nolan had lifted his Tac-50, worked the bolt back and looked over the inside of his own weapon, "I think we're all a little nervous at this point. This isn't low-jack. It's not a bunch of jihadists in a pit in the desert. These guys took over a military installation." He works the bolt again and checks the suppressor on his own rifle, he's not too big on the idea, a rifle like this it's hard to silence in anyway. The sheer power of the weapon is likely to break a suppressor easily enough.

Victor walked over with a heavy thump thump of his armor and picked up the Denel off the table, no one man should be able to carry something that big that easy! Carl stops his prep to watch as Victor hefts the weapon up, opens the breech to stare down it's tube, then with a clack-crack lets the loading lever fall back into place. The backpack of ammo for the light GMG is thrown onto Victor's back like it weighs nothing.

Nolan meanwhile picks up his Hi-power and his Vector .45, holstering them into place on the webbing under the ghille he's also put on. Prepared for the cold and snow outside. He smiles, "We've got an interesting time for us out there my friend. I hope the inflitrator can pull his weight."

Nolan jumps a little when Eric grunts out, "Oh don't you worry I can pull my own weight. I may be half blind, but I can still fight." Nolan blinks as he hadn't seen Eric enter. Eric grins, and is slotting his own gear into place, his stealth suit already on, and his knife, pistol and a tooled down short barrelled HCAR that he's sliding a magazine into that has a little beaver stenciled onto the side, the beaver having two smaller arms raised and middle fingers raised. A Red dot and an amplifer flip sight added to the top too. With a suppressor tacked on just for luck. He nods, "I'll be ready." He salutes the two titans, "Boss, Madam, you call I'll be there." He grabs the last of his kit and heads out.

Nolan hums, "Let's go Andrew. We have a long way to go and much work to do." He slaps a magazine into his Tac 50, "Let's go and show these stains what real operators can do."
All are welcome in the cantakerous and forthright smiths forge. Just prepare yourselves.
I'm trucking away on a post for another RP right now.

Koglan is busily working away on something, and I don't have anything right now I think to input until Koglan is needed for something.

Been keeping track though.
Mistikohman grunts looking at the boy, and he's about to say something when he spots the three at the end of the car, he grabs Zeke turns and places him firmly in the corner of the car, behind a large desk, "I'll tell you later. Stay here. Do so, and I'll reward you later." He then turns, for all his kindness in that moment, the gentle look in his eyes, the almost fatherly tone, the war cry he gives out not just to try and scare the three at the far end of the car but to psyche himself up, reverberates through the air!

The squat native man is then charging down the car, taking the distance to his bow still up above his former seat, in a about five long striding steps. His quiver of arrows is quickly hung over his shoulder. The beaded and feathered bow in hand. And quickly he's in the middle of the aisle, an arrow nocked, then flying. The first arrow punching into the wooden frame of the train right next to the first of the bandits near the door. The arrow itself is nearly a yard long. The Bow a good almost 4 feet long. It may as wel be the predecessor to the the rifles some of the bandits carry. And he's already got another nocked to the bow as he stares the three down. And yet another arrow held in the forward hand.

He chuckles darkly, "I can nock and fire twenty arrows in a minute compared to your pistols and rifles. Do you dare come this way? Or maybe you'd be safer just leaving the train."
@Aristocles

I'm Canadian, I had my Thanksgiving a month ago.

But Happy Turkey day to everyone else!
@Blackmist16

Welcome to the RP good sir. And may our interactions be interesting.
As the scout party had returned with their kill, and begun to celebrate as it was split up. Koglan had vanished into his forge for a time. But shortly returned. Hefting a huge cleaver blade. And before all with a large mad grin on his face he'd brought it down with a hard grunt of effort. The blade crashing through flesh, bone and meat with crazy ease. The paw just up to the joint falling free. He'd grinned, "Yes fine indeed. A simple price."

He'd looked at the scout party, "When you are ready come see me and I will repair your gear. No other price but this." He grins, "Yes this will do fine." He'd of course accepted a little of the meat, as it was passed out, but he'd not taken more then he was offered. Within hours of returning he'd removed the robe, and hung up the paired warhammers among the armory in the forge. Ready to be used again by anyone who came to ask. But no he'd donned his smiths apron again. And the forge had blazed back into heat. Heat haze rising from the top.

Powerful arms, gained from his work, those same arms that had swung those hammers so well not all that long ago had swung a different hammer. A look of glee on his face, "Yes this will be a new masterwork for me!" Had been heard many times as the old Smith had worked.
I just don't want to post so soon after my last post

If you want I can rocket into another post.
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