Penny

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

Emmaline had spoken truthfully when she told Neil that the manor had been very effectively cleared out. Even dousing spells did not reveal caches of gold hidden in the walls or under the floorboards. There was a pleasant residual glow in what might once have been the strong room but not a single loose gelt. There were a number of small valuable objects, a carved snuff box, and a writing set inlaid with jade which had gone into her small pack of possessions. Not for the first time she considered the case she had stolen in Nuln and the pieces of warpstone inside. How much might they fetch when they reached Altdorf. The thought made her groan with almost sexual excitement.

Fortunately the family had been less successful in removing more fungible supplies. The larder contained several pots of freshly churned honey, dark bread, wheels of cheese, even a ham and a side of bacon. As Neil made his way up from his grisly task she headed down the stairs and into the wine cellar, which was completely stocked. She was no expert on wines so she simply selected several of the fanciest looking bottles and carried them clinking up to the sitting room where she had laid out her impromptu dinner of ham and cheese. It was more than she was likely to drink, but she intended to be well provisioned when they began the long trek to safety in the morning. The thought of all the walking made her legs ache, but unless they could find a boat by the side of the Reik there wasn’t anything for it. The mansion had a stable but it had been emptied of horses when the family fled to safety in the city.

“Still have the top on,” Neil commented in a tone of manufactured disappointment as he emerged from the stairwell, his grisly task complete. It surprised Emmaline that he had bothered to bury the nameless servant, something which had not even occurred to her. She wondered what commentary that was on their respective ethos but as always with questions of morality, the curiosity passed quickly.

“The night is young,” she teased, shaking her considerable expanse of bosom to make the purloined necklace clink. Neil grinned and deposited his armful of firewood into the stone fireplace against the wall. He looked around for flint and tinder then jumped back as a spell from Emmaline spontaneously ignited the timber into a merry blaze.

“Sigmar’s balls!” Neil gasped then shot her an accusing look which she deigned to ignore. As an afterthought she waved her hand and spoke another jaw breaking syllable, confining the smoke to the chimney so that it wouldn’t advertise their presence. Even so the fire was something of a risk, but it might be long days before they could count on it being safe to light one.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Junebug looked around, saw she would get no back up from her crewmates and sighed. She strode out of the concourse away from the security men despite the fact she had no inkling as to where her mother had parked.

“Neil, Taya, this is my mother Farah,” she said, completing introductions and allowing her mother to lead the way to a sleek black air speeder which lay among scores of broadly similar vehicles. Every few seconds there was a tone and a low pulsing note as one of the vehicles lifted or landed, carrying passengers too and from the star port.

“Any friend of Sayeeda’s is welcome here of course,” the older woman burbled as she climbed into the pilots seat, gesturing them to sit on the luxuriously upholstered seats inside. The buzz and roar of the spaceport shut off immediately as the tempered glass wings closed around them with a soft pneumatic hiss. The vehicle rose smoothly and boosted away. Farah turned her seat to face them, the vehicle set to the automated pilot beacons which allowed sky traffic to flow without constant accidents.

“Now when you say business partners…” Farah pressed eyes bright.

“Yes, Neil is my boyfriend,” Junebug responded to the unspoken question. Farah clapped her hands together delightedly.

“Oh wonderful, and so handsome, do you have a wedding date? Any children?!” she ejaculated. Junebug’s face remained the expressionless mask that it did behind a gunsight.

“I can’t have children Mother,” she replied. Farah’s face became pettish.

“Oh everyone says that but…”

“I had a partial hysterectomy six years ago,” Junebug responded. Her mother gasped.

“Sayeeda Selene Cykali! Why would you do such a thing!”

“Selene?” Taya mouthed to Neil but was ignored by mother and daughter.

“I mean you have to make your own decisions but you know I love grand children and…” Sayeeda interrupted the diatribe by lifting up her shirt to reveal a knot of scar tissue on her muscular stomach.

“A uranium penetrator hit my LAV and spawled off a six inch piece of the inner hull,” Junebug reported, tracing the old wound with a finger tip. Her eyes were like gun muzzles, their focus years and light years away.

“I spent three weeks in the autodoc at Base Alpha,” she concluded. Farah’s face blanced with shock and then relaxed to a scolding disapproval.

“Well, I did tell you not to get mixed up in any of that,” Farah said, somewhat lamely.

“The countryside is beautiful,” Taya injected smoothly into the awkward silence that followed. The cityscape had faded away and vast arboreal forests, cut with streams and green hills flashed below.

“You sound surprised,” Junebug said, grateful for the change of topic.

“I just always assumed that….” Taya trailed off, clearly unsure how to proceed.

“That I came from some hell hole, red of tooth and claw?” Junebug asked, obviously amused despite herself. Taya shrugged her shoulders helplessly.

“Pretty much,” she agreed a trifle lamely.

“Celandine is a beautiful place,” Farah agreed as the vehicle banked close to an impressive waterfall before curving away to the south.

“I don’t know why anyone would ever leave it,” she added. The older woman shot a meaningful look at her daughter but Junebug was already laying back in her seat, eyes closed in a veteran’s cat nap.


About an hour later the air speeder settled onto a private pad on the outskirts of a glittering city of pleasant white buildings and green parks. The Cyckali residence was typical of its type, several acres of gardens around a large single story structure with three distinct wings. A gravel path linked it to the tree lined boulevards that served pedestrian and ground car traffic. Three figures, an older man and a younger couple were already standing on the moss lawn as the flyer settled onto its gravel landing sight. Junebug started awake, eyes wide and hand reaching for a holster she wasn’t wearing. A moment later her eyes focused and she relaxed. They climbed out of the car and the trio came over.

“Sayeeda, it has been a long time,” the younger woman greeted her. The older man, a stocky powerful specimen with thining hair and a devil may care grin rushed past to enfold Sayeeda in a hug.

“By the Goddess it is good to see you girl!” he boomed. Sayeeda smiled inspite of herself as she returned the hug.

“It is good to see you too dad,” she surrendered.

“This is my boyfriend and pilot Neil Edward’s, and my friend Taya,” she introduced. The young woman who had spoken was introduced as Sayeeda’s sister Miranda and the other man her husband Tomaz.

“Aunty Sy!” a voice shouted as a red headed child of perhaps seven years erupted from a nearby hedge. She pounded across the gravel, shedding leaves as she came before throwing her arms around the mercenary. The child shared some facial features with Sayeeda but was paler and had some of the muscular build of her grandfather.

“If it isn’t little Madge!” Sayeeda crowed, scooping the girl up and spinning her around. The girl giggled and Sayeeda set her down, making a desultory effort to brush leaves and dirt from her clothing.

“Don’t call her that,” Miranda said in the tone of someone fighting a losing battle.

“If it isn’t Madge,” Sayeeda replied, deliberately misinterpreting the instruction, “all big now.”

Sayeeda’s father had crossed to deliver a formal kiss to the back of Taya’s hand before gripping Neil’s hand in his own and pumping it vigorously.

“I am Ibram Cykali,” he introduced himself, “but you must call me Brahm.” A robotic servant had emerged from the house and begun unloading what little luggage they had brought.

“We have lunch prepared in the dining room, come, come,” Farah clucked, attempting to get the party moving.

“Margaret, why don’t you go and wash…” Miranda began but the girl was already moving, deftly slipping behind Taya to cut off her mothers attempt to grab her before fleeing back through the hedge to her own entertainments. The younger Cykali daughter glared after her child but apparently thought better of attempting to coral the girl as the party headed into the pleasantly cool interior of the house.

“You must tell us of your self Master Edwards,” Brahm enthused as they entered a dining room dominated by a long table of dark polished marble, places already set.

“Sayeeda has never bought a man home before, so you are something of a novelty!”

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

@Naril you are welcome to make shit up but it will appear that the goo covered man came down from the roof. You will also find the camp of the homeless man abandoned amid the dumpsters

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

@Atalanta Any local you speak to will be able to tell you that there was a loud crash at around 11pm the previous night, followed by screams and then a squeal of tires. You might also learn that there is a homeless man who normally lives in the alley but is currently missing. You could track him down for more eye witness details.

Penny's Pencils

Fortune & Glory: Grimdark Pulp RP

"Uhhhh..." Jocasta replied, inspiring little confidence in her allies. She wracked her febrile brain for something that would be more useful than coat the enemy in a liberal splash of bacon grease. The screaming mass of beasts hurled themselves against the barricade. If the obstacle had been on flat ground they would have swarmed the defenders in seconds, but the steep climb up the stairs and over the bodies of the fallen was hampering them. Jocasta saw a clawed talon grab the top of the stone in an attempt to pull its owner over, only to see Buri's axe take the appendage off at the wrist in a spray of blood. The thing hissed hatefully and Jocasta's ear twitched as she tried to figure out the syntax of its language.

"Any time now!" Beren shouted as he drove a bare palm into the face of one of the creatures, smashing its nasal bone up into its brain. Jocasta put her hands on her hips to retort that she wasn't a battle mage but trailed off as her eyes fell on the jagged sword that lay at her feet. The ugly weapon was the jawbone of some kind of giant bettle, black and glossy except where it had been sharpened against bare rocks. She picked it up, wincing at the lice ridden grip, and began to etch patterns in the ground infront of her. Arrows were falling around her now, the angle was too steep for a direct shot, so the beasts were trying to drop the points on them by bouncing them of the roof.

"Don't be so impatient!" Jocasta shouted back, making a number of small adjustments to the sigils she had scratched on the floor.

"I'm not, but I cant speak for our other guests!" Beren shouted as he seized on of the creatures, lifted it over his head and pitched it back into the mass of its fellows, carrying score of them to the bottom of the steps in a snapping hissing heap. Jocasta made a few more scratches then dropped the sword and began to chant. There was a sudden crunching sound followed by screams of agony the flow of monsters slacked but the screams of rage and pain redoubled.

"What did you..." Beren asked and peered over the barricade. The narrow corridor was now crisscrossed by ribbons of black insect carapace each one extended from a sword or spear tip to form a glittering lattice of sharpened chitin. The gundarogs at the rear of the pack were still trying to surge forward, unaware that their weight was forcing their companions into the net of blades in much the same way that cheese is forced against a greater. Within a few moments the panicked front ranks had turned their weapons on those behind them to avoid being forcibly dissected the internecine fighting continued for a minute or two before the penny dropped and the whole group of them fell back in snapping frothing fury.

"Why didn't you do that before?" Buri asked gruffly, cuffing blood from a superficial cut above his eyes.

"Maybe I just have a flare for the dramatic?" Jocasta suggested peevishly.

"Can they get through that?" Beren asked, partially interested, partially trying to diffuse an argument.

"If they have wizards, or they get hammers or something to break it out of the way," Jocasta admitted. Chitin wasn't really very strong, especially if you came at it laterally.

"But we might have a few minutes to catch our breath..."

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

Let me know if you want any information for your posts.

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

@nightmare medx You can absolutely find camera footage if you have an approach to one of the local bussinesses, if you decide to get it ill let you know what you find.

Also you can find traces of the black ooze along the alleyway but not beyond it.

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

Also you are probably a little freaked out from that time someone cut her off in traffic and she grew a tail.

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

You are welcome to know as much or as little about each other as you like but you likely have some notion of everyone's capabilities. For instance you might or might not know Blythe is a demonhost but you would know some of the broad outlines of what she can do.