Jarl Coolgruuf

WE ARE HIS CHOSEN!! (Warhammer Age of Sigmar roleplay, can accept 1-2 more people)

Name: Kar'ak the Ravenous

Gender: Male

Race: Human?

Appearance: Tall and rather muscular with almost no body fat to speak of. He maintains his physique with a steady intake of flesh and blood from those he has slain. This diet also contributes to the ungodly reek of blood and raw meat that hangs about him at all times, even more so than other pit fighters. It is said that his breath can kill a man at arm's length. His mouth and hands are perpetually stained a visible red from years of feasting on those who didn't manage to kill him; made even more noticable by his pale complexion. Bits of his past meals can often be seen wedged between his crimson teeth or trapped under his grime and gore covered finger nails. Adding to his ghoulish fisage is the complete lack of hair anywhere on his entire body. From his toes to his non existent eyebrows, not one single hair will grow.

Iron from the knee down, leather from the knee to waist. Kar'ak wears no other armor, wanting as little barrier as possible between his skin and the warm ichor that pours from the flesh he rends. Even his selection of weapons is centered around his need to feast. He carries two gore-caked machetes into battle, but not just any machetes. These wickedly sharp hunks of iron end in bladed hooks that easily strip meat from bone with a flick of the wrist. Another of his favorite techniques is digging the hooks into an opponent and pulling them toward his gapping maw so that he might sample them before the main course. The Ravenous One also carries an assortment of carving knives he ground into form and sharpened himself. These are not for battle and he takes great care in keeping them pristine so they smoothly unzip skin and separate the finest cuts of meat from the rest of the corpse.

Ambition: "I bring them flesh for strength, skulls for the pile, blood for glory! I feast in their name! A day will come when I prove worthy of their favor. With their power I will drink from the throat of the False God. Drink! Drink and become!"

WE ARE HIS CHOSEN!! (Warhammer Age of Sigmar roleplay, can accept 1-2 more people)

I'm up for this. Just give me a bit to organize my ideas.

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

@POOHEAD189 I'm currently working on a collab with @Stormflyx

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

@POOHEAD189 Yes please.

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

@POOHEAD189 Sweet! Thank you!

Mobile Suit Gundam: LIFELINE

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Dannie's grin could be heard through the commlink as she replied.
"I always do."
She positioned herself right in front of the door, gripping her spear firmly.

Everything happened in a flash, but Dannie was more than ready. Bullets pinged off Recompense's shield as Dannie charged straight at her group, using their gunfire to navigate through the smoke. A savage warcry remained trapped within the cockpit as she drove her spear through one of the Redcoats, skewering it. She brought the spear in close and used the mobile suit as an additional shield to block fire from the Tommy as it attempted to flank her. The robotic shishkabob attempted to break free but this struggle was short lived as three megawatts of electricity ripped through its chassis. The entire suit went rigid as the metal around the spear began to liquify and ooze from the entry and exit holes. If the pilot inside wasn't dead already, the flurry of rounds from the Tommy slamming into their back might've done the job. Dannie retaliated with a small metal cylinder that folded up onto Recompense's left shoulder and swiveled toward the offending hail of bullets and unleashed a trio of rockets at the Tommy.
TH-TH-THUMP
Every rocket found its mark and exploded in a shower of white-hot slag that engulfed the front of its torso and head unit. The pilot inside reeled as the very paint of their suit ignited with brilliant colors; the pigments inside burning away under the infernal heat. With the Tommy more than distracted, Dannie took the opportunity to disconnect from her spear of charge her remaining opponent. A burst of gunfire ricocheted harmlessly off her shield as she reached for a handle on her mobile suit's lower back. A salvage processing saw roared to life as she swung the fiendish weapon at the Redcoat. Metal shrieked as the alternating teeth ripped through her opponent's arm in a shower of sparks, severing it in moments. The arm, and the gun in its hand, both crashed to the floor. The pilot inside barely had time to register the horror of what just occurred before  Dannie raised her left arm, pressing her suit's palm against the cockpit, and unloaded two armor piercing shells into it from a wrist-mounted scattergun. The pilot inside died instantly.

Two mobile suits lay broken at her feet, their pilots dead, but the Tommy's pilot decided their  faith in Zern wasn't strong enough to save them from Dannie. They were right. As they attempted to flee, she dropped her saw and reached for a metal disk at her waist that split into two thinner disks connected by a metal cable. She spun the contraption a few times before slinging it at the fleeing mobile suit. The cable tangled around its legs, causing the Tommy to skid a ways as it tripped. It tried to stand but not having the use of its legs proved to be too much of a handicap. Dannie wasted no time in rushing at the downed Tommy and unceremoniously stomping on the torso until the cockpit caved in. Then twice more just to be sure. She took a moment to recollect her weapons and hook her spear back up to her suit's reactor before turning her attention to the rest of the battle.

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

@Stormflyx Yes, I'd love to. I accidentally wrote up a whole post without even reading your post my bad.

@POOHEAD189 Sorry about the post clutter. I didn't read the OOC before adding to the IC and tried to edit my post at first but accidentally posted twice. Sorry about that whole mess

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

Renar stared at Baldivar's offered hand, visibly uncomfortable. He nodded once, stiffly.
"Yes, you too. I have to scout," he replied quickly.
And that was all he said before swiftly turning on his heel and silently disappearing into the undergrowth around the camp. It was a lie, of course, but such details were best kept to himself.

He returned half an hour later with a fistful of wild onions and accidentally spooked one of the cooks with his sudden and soundless appearance from the trees directly behind him. There was a mumbled apology before Renar took a bowl of soup and sat down away from the rest of the party in the shade of a tree. He didn't say a word as he shoveled soup down his gullet between mouthfuls of onion stalk. As he ate, he observed the rest of the party from a safe distance and took mental notes of who and what they were. No bit of information that reached his eyes and ears was too trivial to forget.

==========

The trip to the keep had been uneventful, at least for the sorceress. Her feet were sore, and she was starting to tire of the days events. Life in the courts of Lyria had left her unprepared for work such as this. The woman gave a light shrug of her shoulders as she thought over the whole situation. She’d been observing the others too, thinking each of them over - from what she could gather of them so far. The Aen Seidhe had been conversational, but he had been the only one she had formally introduced herself too. She kept an especially fair distance from the Witchers - both, she felt, had regarded her immediately with distrust and one of them had a spectacularly heavy energy about him that she wanted to avoid at all costs.

Still, there was work to be done, and the sorceress set about to the courtyard at Balidvar’s command with her gloved hands held at her sides, fingers positioned and ready to form a spell should the need arise. Her steps were stealthy, but confident, and if everyone else had apprehensions about the place, they were not shared with Avery. She simply wanted them to get on with it, so that she could settle in for the rest of the day.

“Well, Winnie… Looks like we have our work cut out for us,” she breathed out with a shake of her head, placing a hand on each hip as her eyes tracked the sight of the yard. Hay strewn everywhere, weapons abandoned. As if on cue, the small, hairless cat hopped out of the satchel down onto the ground, performing a long and regal stretch and hissing viciously as she did so. “Oh stop it, ungrateful beast,” Avery mumbled with a smirk before reaching down a hand to rub the top of Winifred’s head. “We’re to wait for Renar so don’t you-” before she could finish the sentence, the cat had scarpered off and away on her own accord. Avery merely sighed and shook her head, waiting for the scout to join her in her exploration.

No sooner than the sigh escaped her did he make his presence known from just outside her peripheral vision.
"The cat looks sick. Don't eat it," He warned with a voice, low and coarse from lack of use.

The scout reached into a pouch under his cloak to retrieve a sling and a rock half the size of a fist. He chewed his lips nervously as he loaded the sling. Best to be prepared. With his free hand, he reached up to stroke the hawk perched on his shoulder with two fingers, gently running them along the top of its head. The raptor pressed its head up into his hand as he pulled away, seemingly wanting more attention. The scout refused and rolled his shoulder once with a single word.
"Away."
The hawk took flight without protest, disappearing over the tree line with a quiet flap of its wings. He'd rather it stay with him where he could protect it, but who knew what dangers lurked in the darkened halls of the castle? On his own, Renar avoided large, abandoned structures at all costs. Experience told him that bandits and highwaymen are some of the least terrible things that shelter in crumbling, forgotten towers.

"Well I don't think I'll get quite so hungry for a while," Avery answered, turning her head to glance over the cloaked individual. "I'd sooner eat the bird," she added with a wink, implying that she meant no malice or anything serious by it. She chuckled under her breath before placing her hands out in front of her. "Feels rather safe to me, no signs of life in this courtyard except for you and I," she said with a sigh. "Renar, was it?"

"My mother called me that and not every threat is alive."
He believed whatever magic she performed, but still his eyes never left his surroundings. His mind conjured images of bear traps, trip wires, pitfalls, and arcane runes under every pile of leaves and attached to every rusted sword. Then he moved on to ghouls, rotfiends, devours, and more. None of them truly alive, but all very, very dangerous. People often spoke ill of paranoia, but Renar found it to be a commendable trait indeed. He'd seen far more paranoid soldiers survive perilous situations than reckless ones.

Avery blinked in his direction, at the clipped tone that carried his words. He was a quiet one, but perhaps less so on the inside and she regarded him in that moment with curiosity in her eyes.

"The dead are not silent to my ears," the sorceress said softly before heading further through the courtyard, paying attention to what she could feel around her, fingers twitching in response.

He nodded in approval. Hearing was one of the best senses in his opinion. Sight only revealed what was immediately in front or just to the side of oneself. Ears can observe things behind the listener, obscured by obstacles, or even what's cloaked in darkness. He was quickly lost in his thoughts and the work of scouting for danger. Had he seen the curious look she gave him, he likely wouldn't have known what to make of it anyhow.

"From where do you hail, Renar?" She asked, busying herself with idle and polite chatter. It was also simply a way to learn more about the man, of course, already she had ascertained that he was the quiet type and that perhaps he stayed away from conversation but she wondered of the conversations he had with himself. His internal monologues. "You seem far from a city dweller, or a village dweller in fact. Why, I wouldn't even bat an eye if you told me you were from Brokilon forest!"

"I never asked where," he replied, stopping to use a broken board to nudge a suspicious pile of rotted fabric. "You ask many questions."

Perhaps she wanted something from him? Probably not, most who wanted him to do something for them asked simply and paid fairly. If she wanted to hire him she would've asked by now in all likelihood, but she was employed by his employer as well. Where was she going with this line of questioning?

"And you're a very suspicious man," she answered, slightly perturbed at his lack of an answer, and more so by his comment. "I'm just curious," she explained with a nonchalant wave of her hand. "If I'm to spend so much time on this mission, it's nice to know who I'm with but fine. I'll be quiet," she murmured while examining part of the wall of the courtyard.

He couldn't help being relieved at her temporary vow of silence. Still, she almost seemed upset by his question. Why would she be? But was she? He couldn't tell. Every time he interacted with others he found himself wishing everyone would just say how they felt rather than using arbitrary combinations of facial expression and voice.

That vow was soon broken as Avery's fingers traced the wall, as if she was following a trail of something only she could see. Something beyond the brambles that had grown wild around it. "This courtyard was once a happy place," she commented. "Parties… Celebration," she continued. "Nothing like a city ball of course, but, people were happy here," the sorceress said with a sigh before removing her hand from its place on the stone. "Were," she repeated delicately - the implications clear as crystal before she stepped away entirely, almost timidly, and off in the other direction.

Renar tried his best to filter out her idle chatter as his eyes swept over the grounds once more. If anything lurked here, it was hidden from both his eyes and ears.

Warhammer 40k: It's A Wonderful Life! An Imperial Guard (40K) RP

@Jb I've come to purge with you again