Avatar of MacabreFox

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

@Leidenschaft@MacabreFox@MiddleEarthRoze: finish the titanpad collaboration asap. You will publish this Sunday latest, no matter how far you get.

@Graviloquence: you need a post by Sunday too; Bharzak gets skipped if you don't.


Been sick, and busy with work, but Fri-Sun I will have plenty of time!
Kyne’s Tear


Being onboard a ship always boosted Leif’s morale. To him, being surrounded by the open waters, with a wooden deck beneath his feet, gave him power. Power in the sense that he had spent nearly eight years sailing, it was like second nature to him. Not to mention the breeze coming in off the sea felt marvelous on the seared portions of his face. He made an effort to check on Elmera every once in awhile, and took it upon himself to heal the burns himself. For the most part, Leif continued to avoid Do’Karth, although some of his hatred towards the Khajiit had dwindled, mainly because he made an effort to forget. His heart still ached for Sevine, however, the rejection there would not subside. At least not yet.

In the meantime, Leif spent his time helping out with ship duties. It was such, that when he had a moment of freedom, he wandered over to inspect the massive ballistas. Overall, Leif was impressed at the sheer size of what looked like to him, a giant firing crossbow. Needless to say, after he gave them a once over, he stuck to volunteering around the ship. On occasion, he crossed paths with Do’Karth, but he didn’t pay him much attention. He had more important things to do than to squabble with a cat. Most of his thoughts now, were focused on the present task at hand, surviving and returning to Dawnstar, and finding comfort in the arms of some maid. He spotted Solveig and Sadri sitting beside one another, and while he witnessed her throwing her arms about him, he felt a sense of esteem towards the two of them. Even though Solveig had chosen a knife-ear, she was a fierce warrior, and a respectable Nord woman, just like Sevine. The esteem came from the fact that he hadn’t loved her like he had Sevine, and the fact that she hadn’t stomped on his heart. It was by this time that the winds of change had arrived.

The distinctive sound of the war horn blowing caused him to scan the horizon. While he couldn’t immediately see any sign of danger, he soon discovered that the sailor in the crow’s nest had sighted a Kamal frigate. As if on cue, the plated ship emerged on scene from the port-stern. His heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach. How in the world did the Kamal’s find them so soon? He cursed under his breath, and jumped into action. Ducking below deck, he fetched his leather armor, helm, and longsword, where he strapped it to his back. When he re-emerged, the frigate had closed the gap between the Tear and themselves. Hargjorn barked orders, trying to prepare those onboard for imminent contact with their enemies.

While there were those on deck making ready for battle, Leif joined the sailors in their work to pull the two ships together. He heaved with great effort alongside the men, muscles straining, and sweat running in rivulets from the strain. When the Tear sidled along next to the frigate, close enough for those attempting to board, Leif moved between preparing the bolts by lathering them up with oil, and bringing more fire salts to those launching them at the frigate. For the time being, this is all that kept him occupied. Should the Kamal try to board the Tear, Leif would dive into action, and see to it that they might a fiery end.
Ok guys, we're far enough into this game to have made many memorable moments. So in celebration of all our wonderful writing, we will be bringing to light the best of FoC. In the next seven days, we will nominate and vote for the following:

-Most emotional tear jerker
-Best action sequence
-Finest dialogue
-Most unexpected twist
-Funniest comedic moment
-Dankest meme

Winners will be featured in a 'Hall of Fame", on the front page.


For clarification, are we nominating and voting for other players to go in these categories? And are all players available for nominations, or is it restricted to those of us that have been here since the beginning?
@RokkuHoshi

Ah, my mistake. I wonder if my wording is confused or misdirecting in some places. Sorry you got confused!

@MacabreFox

Don't worry about it bud, it's great! Hope you enjoyed your trip, by the way. :


I did ^.^ my favorite part was probably the tiny desserts they served us during the formal dinner. Plus my boyfriend and I were recognized for our promotions in the company.
@MiddleEarthRoze Small post. I promise that in the next round of posts I'll have something more with substance!
Soon after disposing of the first scamp, Brona had little time to butcher the next scamp that propelled itself towards with a terrible, guttural screech. She drew up the blades of the iron short swords to fend off the attack. To her surprise, a hound of impressive stature tackled the devilish beast to the ground, a set of yellowish fangs turned orange, then red as the blood from the creature mixed with its saliva. Panting, Brona took a step back. She had seen the hound inside the chapel, and the owner, a rugged Nord man with wavy black hair, finished off another scamp.

“Thank you!” She called to him with a weary smile. It was then that her eyes flickered to the gates, they had opened!
As the hound finished its bloody work, the Nord called to him. “Wait! Wait for me.” Brona called, running after him. She didn’t want to be alone after that last scamp. “Look,” she said catching up to him, “the gates have been opened. That woman made quick work of getting them open.” She commented, all the while keeping her eyes peeled for anymore creatures that she felt were lurking in the shadows.
After the meeting with Schwarz, Adina and Evelyn ventured out together to a local shoppe. While she initially found it difficult understanding the woman’s German through her Hungarian accent, the two managed to converse with ease after much patience. It took little time to find a dress in Evelyn’s size, a black dress suitable for the gala.

Remaining in her company, Evelyn kept a wary eye on her companion, always suspicious. For the most part, she made damn certain to keep her words in check after their excursion out on the town. Secretly, she allowed herself to admit that Vienna was indeed a beautiful city. One filled with history. A place she would never forget.
Once finished with packing, the two women made their way to the train station where they joined Stephen and Nafiz, arriving only five minutes later than the three amigos. She soon discovered that the men, that being Stephan and Eshref, shared a room across from Adina and her. She wasn’t overly surprised that Schwarz had made arrangements for a first class room. Evelyn claimed the top bunk, believing that if Adina, or any other unsavory folks tried to eliminate her, they wouldn’t do it while she slept soundly. Of course, that just came with her paranoia.



Discussing freely the important steps on the plan around a dining table, Evelyn became critically aware of the Turkish man’s speech. His German wasn’t bad, she’d give him that, but she restrained the need to correct him herself. After dinner, they gathered in Schwarz’ cabin, as displaying their inventory of weaponry would arouse suspicion from the innocent passengers around them. When she handed over her Mauser Zig-Zag, she could see the reluctant look in his eyes, to which she shrugged and commented quietly, “I never asked to wield a weapon, Mr. Schwarz, it was given to me by a German officer.” Suffice to say, at least she had plenty of cartridges, a question that arose when he glanced over Eshref’s weapon of choice.

Regardless of the concern for the potential lack of ammo over the Turkish man’s gun, they moved onto the subject of driving. For once, Evelyn had hoped that she wouldn’t be the one to drive. She thought back to the fields of battle where the other field nurses and her drove across the plains to retrieve the wounded. Truly, the numerous times they chanced the drive, she fretted inwardly over the idea of being struck by a shell, driving over a landmine, or being apprehended by the Germans. Which ironically, is how she found herself in this situation to begin with. Of course she kept that tidbit to herself.
As their handler delegated who would be in charge of driving once they arrived, Stephan made a rather irksome suggestion, one that left Evelyn biting her tongue. Did this Austrian think himself a better driver than her, just because she was a woman? To her delight, Schwarz chose her in the end to manage the driving.

“Yes of course, Mr. Schwarz.” She said with some degree of formality. “I’d rather drive on this mission, then take a chance with land mines any day.”



Adjourning from Schwarz’ first class cabin, Adina led them back to the dining car where the four of them gathered around a table. Just in time for the late evening snack, however, Adina immediately excused herself, leaving the three operatives alone for the first time since the meeting back in Vienna. She turned her gaze to the unfurling scenery just outside the window’s pane. There were far and few between villages now, and a steady rise of snow-capped mountains in the distance.
It was Stephan who quaffed the growing silence between them, wherein he commented on her fluency in German, going further to inquire if she had the opportunity to study in Germany. Coincidentally, she found it highly intriguing that Mr. Burkhart had actually travelled to Bath. She made a mental note to inquire on the subject later on. “Unfortunately no, the chance to study in such a place would be an opportunity of a lifetime. You see, my grandfather, my father’s father, brought his family to England. It was through my father’s insistence that I learn the language. He encouraged me to study German literature, and to speak with him as much as possible in his tongue. To say the least, it has come in handy, or so I think.” Just then, the familiar figure of Adina returned to the dining car, where she joined them at the table, modestly suggesting that she had excused herself in need of the loo.

To her surprise, one which she kept hidden through a mask of indifference, Adina hinted at the curious behaviour exhibited by their handler, of which Evelyn said not a word. After all, her prerogative was survive and return home. Though, were this Mr. Hahn Schwarz behaviour to turn, she would do damn well to make sure she didn’t forget this. The Hungarian woman conveyed the message that should they need to contact them, they do so from a safe location. A group of men sauntered past their table, the smell of liquor struck her with a grimace. Hadn’t they any common sense on how to compose themselves in public? Plus the comment of danque mêméx puzzled her. Was this some type of insult? She brushed it aside as Adina proceeded to capture her attention, something of which she began to wish hadn’t happened. She wanted nothing more than to keep to herself, yet she answered the question as politely and without attitude as one could allow.

“Please, there is no need to call me lady, Evelyn or Miss Grey is just fine.” She began with a terse smile, “It depends on who you ask, in regards to Irish nobility. Originally, yes, there were indeed Irish nobility, though there were three ways to inherit or obtain that title. As for my ability to sing, I assure you, I am rather qualified.” When Adina mentioned the song by songstress Ada Jones, she lifted her eyebrows in acknowledgement, “Yes, I am quite aware of the song. I believe Ms. Jones now resides in the United States.”




By the middle of the second day, they bade farewell to Adina and Hahn, and they boarded a transfer train, one that seemingly spoke French, bound for Toulouse. After settling in her room, one of which she now shared solely with herself, much to her delight, she went across the hall to check in with her companions. There was much to discuss. Once inside, they reverted to German for comfort.
On a peculiar note, Stephan revealed to them that he delved into reading fantasy novels, of such, he pulled out a book that bore an English title, Jorwen the Red-Bear. “If I find I have nothing else to do, Mr. Burkhart, I’ll take you up on the suggestion of reading it.” After all, a female character with the name of Sevine the Huntress certainly sounded intriguing.
For the rest of the evening, she attended dinner, but primarily kept to herself. From the comfort of her lone cabin, she had the opportunity for once, to reflect quietly on the course of events. Her thoughts trailed back to that day on the battlefield, when they had received word to head out to retrieve the wounded. She frequented the images in her head, wondering if she had had the chance to run away, how far she would have made it, and where she would have gone thereafter. Quietly admitting defeat, Evelyn turned her attention once more to the French countryside. Evidence of the war dotted the landscape, from empty edifices, to the maimed soldiers. She figured that some of those men she could have treated at some point in time, as she did not limit her nursing capabilities to just the British, but often treated the wounded French.

On the last evening aboard the train, she let Stephan and Eshref control the conversation, reserving herself to poke at her food with a lack of appetite.




They changed trains again, this time, one that was full of Spanish speaking occupants, bound for Seville. From her understanding, as she had often read what newspapers she could on the front lines, Spain struggled with an influenza outbreak, one of which had taken a deadly toll on its citizen’s. The remainder of the day was uneventful, as they took their late lunch together inside the dining car, that was, until a cluster of railroad authorities descended on them. Evelyn restrained an agitated sigh, and kept her wits about her. An Austrian man, English woman, and Turkish man had drawn few stares until France, but now, they could not evade the curious gaze of the authorities.
Focusing their attention primarily on Stephan, they began to interrogate the poor man without much consideration. Eshref and Evelyn came to his aid, as she first began to plea in soft Italian. She knew the language was similar to that of Spanish, but eventually she resorted to speaking plain English for her own sake to avoid insult. Finally, either the authorities settled on them not being a threat, or they had other matters to attend to, they were left alone. She sighed in relief and sank back into her seat. Evelyn couldn’t wait for the end of the train ride now.

When the second day of traveling through Spain had come, Seville was visible on the horizon. On the upside of this situation that she found herself in, Evelyn relished in the idea that she had traveled more than anyone else in her family. From England to France, from France to Germany, from Germany to Austria, from Austria through the Swiss Alps, back through France again, and now into Spain. If she lived to tell the tale, her future offspring would be impressed at the adventuring their mother had accomplished.
The meeting with Acosta, or rather his wife, or perhaps cousin, or rather all of the above, of which Evelyn was uncertain of either, left her feeling a bit confused, and slightly angry at the notion of having to part with some of her own personal British pounds. Now, satisfied, and after some persuasion from Eshref, she passed the keys of a Model T over to them, to which Evelyn readily claimed. To be fair, she had a rocky start on getting the car going, but that was due to the fact that she had never driven a Model T before, only the field ambulances. Nevertheless, she soon settled into a smooth ride over the road to Gibraltar. She drove for the better part of two hours before she succumbed to Stephan’s insistence at letting him take the wheel. She had preferred Eshref sitting next to her in the passenger seat, he was a quiet companion, one that she favored. Regardless, once she was seated as comfortably as possible on the rear bench, she let her gaze wander out the window, trying to recall the lyrics to Irish Blood, she had no idea what song she would sing at the gala, but settled on the idea that she might as well perform that song.

When they stopped for the night, three hours away from Gibraltar, Evelyn was elated to see that their sleeping quarters at a rustic, and cozy lodge, was perfectly suitable than sleeping in a train car. Yet, as they made their way inside, there on the outside wall was a sanitation poster forewarning citizens on the symptoms, and precautions of influenza.
It was midday when they reached a checkpoint just outside of Gibraltar. Her heart began to beat in anxiety as soldiers in bland beige uniforms approached their car, requesting identification and their destination. She took a chance and opted out of announcing their destination, but handed over her British passport with a simple, “Here you are, gentlemen.” Now if only Stephan could keep his cool.
<Snipped quote by MacabreFox>

That, and security against counter-boarding.


@MiddleEarthRoze Working on another post for another RP, when I get that post up, I'll start working on my post for here.

@POOHEAD189 Thanks for including Brona in your post! I will include a response from her in my upcoming post.
I'm in the process of getting a post up for Evelyn.

© 2007-2025
BBCode Cheatsheet