POOHEAD189

At The Edge of The World

I had to be honest, I would have very much loved to go in and explore if I was alone. One of my flaws is an enjoyment of danger, and a curiosity. Deadly circumstances mean little to me and I'm fully willing to leap into it, but I had people I was responsible for and I was raised to do my best to help people. But even with my reservations, it seemed like they were interested in going in too. I wouldn't mind leaving the conquistadors to their fate, but I did take their money and we all needed a place to stay, and so the group inevitably went in.

I walked in first, to make certain there was no danger. I was unsurprised to see there was, in fact, danger.

I stepped closer...and closer... My dark eyes looking left and right and up, and then stepped again.

The portcullis dropped like an anvil, the 'teeth' literal dagger blades that glinted in the sun. I threw my shoulder forward and rolled, stricken with a cold feeling in my chest as I expected to be skewered, but the Evergod was with me. I felt the woosh flying past me, and it stabbed into the ground. Dust flew from when I skidded to a stop and looked back, nearly hitting a small pillar with an oblong shaped handle. I blinked, watching the portcullis raise back up again slowly from some mechanism.

"Uh, no one cross the gateway yet." I deadpanned.

I took a minute to look at the spine of the carving, trying to see the source of the gate's power. I hadn't been privvy to many dwarven engineering projects during my time with them, but I had picked up one or two things. Still, I couldn't find any sort of chain or mechanism, but my brain redirected its thoughts and I turned back to the pillar, which on closer inspection looked like a dias or some sort of control mechanism. I told everyone to back away, and once they did I pulled the oblong handle. It gave easy enough, and then I stepped back to the gate, on the balls of my feet, and then slid my leg under the gateway as I had earlier.

Nothing happened. I breathed a sigh of relief, and the others filtered in with uncertainty. The gate did not act on its own again, and once they were inside the walls, they needed to decide where to go. The conquistadors seemed to eye the ziggurat to the east, but I didn't trust them obviously. Emmaline eyed the surroundings with interest, but didn't speak up. So I suggested we go to the nearest minaret. Once I started moving, the others followed like ripples in a stream. In my experience, as long as people had a direction, they could be led into hell and they would still follow. I hoped I wasn't doing that to them.

There spire was made of tanned stone and brass linings that cascaded upwards into a mosiac of a serpent god's fall from grace, casted exquisitely in the light of the setting sun. Even dwarves would have a hard time making something so well crafted. Even Fletcher stopped and lifted his spectacles to give a 'my lord' in appreciation. I patted his shoulder and gestured for him to continue in under the large, open archway, shielded from the sun.

Inside it was cool, the floors made of smooth stone, though small plants had managed to wring a bit of their slender stalks through. Tables made of some gilded steel had been flipped and chairs scattered, and vines lined up the walls with the energy of a jealous lover. Snaking around the base of the minaret was a long, sinuous stairway that winded up higher and higher until it likely reached the pinnacle. Across the breadth of the room was a small doorway that fed into a hall, darkened by shadow.

"Ok, let's make camp here." I told everyone, and went over to pick up one of the heavy, overturned tables. With a grunt, I lifted the thing off the ground and set it right at the doorway to block the hall, being as careful as I could be. Callibel watched me move it appreciatively, as the table was about twice as heavy as a big man. Once I placed it down, I saw Fletcher and a conquistador rip off vines and place what small bits of kindling they could next to the archway in preparation for another fire.

"I'm going upstairs to check what's up there. Anyone want to come with me?" I asked.

"I'll go," Emmaline volunteered, sauntering over. My heartbeat quickened, and I remember at the time I felt she wanted to check things out as much as I did. Looking back, she probably didn't want to be left alone with the mercs. Either way, it was good she came with me and we started to ascend.

Ill Met in Ostland

"It was at that time, when the battle was surely lost, that he stepped to the front and defiantly raised the Standard of Ostland. From that moment, the day was ours."

-From The Chronicles of Captain Schweisteigger by Christophe von Peache

Marius Schwarz had always liked that quote. He had always been an avid reader of adventure books and military expeditions in far off lands. As a child he had dreamed of sailing the coasts of Lustria or rescuing Brettonian damsels, perhaps performing wonders in front of an Arabyan sultan and being gifted with his most beautiful daughter and a palace of his own. When he had gotten his first sword, he had practiced every day on how he would kill a beastman or behead one of the foul greenskins that plagued the empire. Every trip with his father on a river barge, he wondered if he would see mermaids or have to defend himself from rampaging river trolls.

Growing up, after so many day-dreams and books, he almost felt like a veteran of adventure. It was now time to settle down, enjoy a taste of the business world. Money was the grease that kept the empire flowing afterall, more than even faith in sigmar or good manufacturing. The men of the old world were all in it together, and Nuln seemed like the pinnacle of human development. The booms of the famous gunnery school and the fierce debates over literature in the university were the talk of all Wissenland, and even in the times he had visited Altdorf, he did not feel inferior to the Rieklanders, but a peer in knowledge and sophistication.

The world was his oyster, as they say. And if that was the case...

How the fuck did he end up here, pinned to the ground by footpads that smelled about as good as an autopsy where the subject had shat themselves? Marius had struggled, and for his troubles he had the wind knocked out of him. He could have given them his gold and went on his merry way, but he had to try and talk his way out of the situation, and then had the model idea to cut his way out. His sidesword had been knocked out of his hand from his blindspot and one of the bandits had been a bit over zealous in tackling him to the ground.

"Herr bandit, you don't have to do this. That's the last of my money. The roadwardens will not stand for this. I saw one just this morning!" Marius said in a tone he tried to keep neutral, but it sounded very pathetic on the ground. Marius was never one to be deterred, however. "Sir, plea-"

"Shut up, southern git!" A boot was planted atop his head and grounded his face further into the sludge of both snow and frozen dirt. He felt his dried lip crack and there was a spot of red on the slush. Marius gasped for breath. Around him were four highwaymen, wearing makeshift coats and extravagantly striped pants like they were middenlanders or fops in a play. The air was frigidly cold, and Marius realized he had made a mistake. He should have gone to Tilea or Estalia, not to Ostland of all places.

"I'm just trying to get to Wolfenburg!" Marius cried through the snow shoved into his mouth. It was muffled, but they heard him. He expected them to mock him, but the laugh that came was harder than he would have expected. One of them looked confused, and it only made the others laugh more uproariously. Marius lifted his head up, spitting out dirt and snow. "What is so funny!?"

One of the men with a goatee and an easy smile knelt down in front of the poor waylaid merchant. He gave a smile that showed his teeth, and in his hands was a dagger that looked freshly sharpened. He snickered before he spoke. "This is the north road, you idiot. Wolfenburg is half a day the other way. You passed it." He remarked, and barked a laugh when he saw Marius's confusion. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, I'm not." Marius admitted, downtrodden by the information. He could have been in a warm tavern right now, making business inquiries.

"So what do you do, other than cartography?" The bandit asked the pinned fellow.

"I'm from Nuln. I'm just looking to make my fortune up north. Starting a business, perhaps. You gentlemen wouldn't be interested?" He asked hopefully.

The bandit made a show of thinking about it. He scratched his chin and raised his eyebrow, looking up at the sky as he let out his best 'hmmm'. Once he was bored of the act, he showed the sack of coins they had procured from Marius's belt and jingled it before him. "No, I think we'll just take the money."

At The Edge of The World

I smiled, crossing my arms. "If they are looking, they won't attack." I said with confidence. This wasn't my first encounter, and I placed my hand on my cut arm. The bleeding had stopped and Callabel had wrapped some cloth around it. It occurred to me I had never been in a situation that had involved the beasts that hadn't let to a wound of some kind, and that was still counted as lucky. "They don't do well around fire, and they'll smell their own dead."

"Well that's good," She said, knowingly making an understatement. I laughed, glad I hadn't embarrassed myself the way I had feared. Attraction or not, we still had a few days travel left if we were going on the right path. I felt confident we were heading in the correct direction, but I had never been here before. The old tales from Owyn the huntsman were what I was navigating by, and my general knowledge of the direction of the outpost.

I had very good discipline. One of the tenets of my faith was the forging of an impassable will, which the dwarves could appreciate highly. I was just about to summon that, because I figured she would have wanted to change the subject. But she caught my eyes with hers and subtly moved her body in a way I didn't really perceive, but it caught my attention and more. I know what you're thinking, and no, this wasn't my first time dealing with a pretty woman. But I had only been with one, and it had been awhile ago. Other than travelers, you don't see many people in these lands, especially not in the village I lived. It didn't boast even a thousand people, and almost none of them were around my age. I couldn't read her mind or intentions, but I still had an inkling of what she was doing, and I definitely obliged. The impenetrable walls I had been building crumbled biblically, and I let my eyes slid over her hips and chest.

"Social acquaintances... that what they're calling it across the pond?" I joked, though my brevity came out breathlessly. I placed my hands behind back to lean on the ground, letting my corded arms grow pronounced like my chest did, showing definition through my top.

I had been told I was handsome before, but it never really was something that stuck with me. It was like pointing out that a lizard could regrow its tail or that the sun brought heat. The significance didn't really hit me mattered very little to my day to day life, but for the first time for as long as I can remember, I was glad I had it. The lady Emmaline scooted a bit closer to me, letting me get a marvelous view of her chest that did unrelenting things to me, until a glance at the side showed me the mercs had stopped their talk and eyed us.

"So uh," I cleared my throat and gestured to the mercenaries with a small nudge of my head. "Care to tell me about your estates back north? I don't think I've met many noblewomen heading south." I said, taking a deep breath. Gods I was hot and bothered, but I shoved that aside. We couldn't get familiar on the trail. It complicated things and would give credence or at least fervour to whatever the conquistadors would accuse us of. Plus, I thought, once we reached the outpost, the contract was done. I wasn't a one-night-stand kind of guy. She likely had other obligations and people to marry.

After some time talking and some brief flirting, we and the other groups drifted off to sleep.

The next day, we awoke to a light rain that turned into a downpour accompanied by roaring thunder. Luckily for us we had the stone walls above to shield us, but it kept us immobile for a good few hours before the skies cleared and we could start to move again. We went slow going over the slick rocks and the muddied ground until the earth went even again, and we could begin moving at a better pace. The rest of the day was spent marching, and other than a few smiles I shared with Emmaline, we didn't really converse beyond a few words. Luckily we saw no dangerous predators either, though we did bump into a water buffalo and its calf amongst some tall reeds that we gave a wide berth to.

It was mid afternoon when everything changed.

I had taken my axe out, and despite our differences, the conquistadors and I had begun working in unison, hacking through the leaves, ferns, and brush to cut our way through the dense jungle before we suddenly hit nothing but air. I heard one of the Dre Costan's gasp when he stepped forward past the last tree, and I quickly followed and felt my brows raise as I bore witness to a spectacle I had never seen before.

Walls thrice as tall as a man stood like a cliffside before us, bricked from some unknown material, with sinuous patterns carved into it that harmed the retina to follow and made one dizzy in the attempt.The rest of the group followed in our wake as we approached the wall, and a call of "Senor!" to my right drew my attention. Past another vast tree, we saw the opening in the barrier that was even more impressive and yet wholly terrifying.

The gateway was a massive serpent's maw, opened wide enough for an army to march through. Its teeth were the teeth of a rusted portcullis, opened wide for anyone to pass through freely. I saw its eyes twinkle in the bright sunlight, glimmering as if they were made of precious stones. I let out a whistle as the others joined me, and there were gasps all around.

"Esto es lo que hemos buscado para estos meses, Ricardo." One of the mercs said to the other. As the others whispered amongst themselves, I noticed a flak of something along the wall next to the serpent gate. I walked up and brushed it, and my eyes widened as my hands wiped what I had thought was stone off the rich hue of the material the wall was made of. On it were ancient pictograms I couldn't decipher, but once my shock was gone I realized just what I was looking at.

The walls were made of solid gold.

"What is this place?" Callibel asked, poking her head past the great fanged mouth to peer into the settlement. Spires and ziggurats of stone, gold, and brass towered into the sky, and through nature had reconquered much of the inner city, the roads were still well paved and framed by waterways.

"I don't know..." I admitted, perplexed.

"You don't?" Fletcher asked, astounded at how such a place could go under the radar of any local.

"Tzecholitchi" a voice said from behind, and all eyes turned to Emmaline. The mercs looked at her as if they were about to run her through then and there.

"I've heard of that," I said, memories flooding back to me.

"Really? I was just sneezing." Emmaline lied, blowing her nose.

Gold & Glory: AU thread

The elves looked as if they were about to explode with violence, though whether at Markus or dark elves, the Captain wasn't sure. Still, that fire was good. They would need it before long.

"We're here, we're in the belly of the beast. If you weren't prepared to do what was necessary you would have stayed on the boat, now quit fretting and let's go." Markus told Indrin and Sulandar in no uncertain terms. It wasn't exactly what they wanted to hear, but it was needed. They didn't acknowledge Markus after an initial scowl. Instead they started to walk forward, and the other followed in their way. Morek's face was grimly set, his corded muscles ready to rip apart the slim bindings he had on at a moments notice.

They passed a small jetty and an small outpost structure, though mercifully no one was at their station. The wind was harsh and the rain almost unbearable, but the fire behind them wouldn't be quenched so easily and what drucchi there were on duty flocked to the commotion even as the ship's wooden planks began to crack and the masts swayed from the wind and burn damage. Emmaline slipped and fell, hitting the smooth pavement of the dock but thankfully landing on her hands.

Morek helped her up, and Markus turned around in time to see it. He cursed.

"Dwarf!" Markus cried, eyes stabbing at the bearded one. Morek looked at Markus with a confused expression, and the Captain switched his gaze to the north at the spires above. If even one elf had seen a slave help up a plump dark elf without reprimand, or even a dark elf slipping on stone... Even in this weather, elves were graceful beyond what humans were capable of. Just to save face, Markus ran up and backhanded the dwarf. Morek's head didn't snap to the side, and honestly Markus felt like he had struck a stone statue, but the dwarf did grunt and glare at him dangerously.

"I had to," Markus whispered. Morek glared at him, but eventually stepped back and bowed his head.

"I'll get ya for that later," The dwarf said.

Markus helped Emmaline keep her feet and then hurried on to catch up to the elves, who walked as if the wind did not touch them. They were almost at the tunnel that led into the underground quay.

At The Edge of The World

The next few hours were relatively uneventful. The jungle floor skittered with small, furry creatures and huge centipedes that clung from branches and boughs and wiggled their antennae as the group passed. Large snakes curled around branches lazily, and we even passed a fresh carcass of some porcine beasts that had its stomach ripped open and excavated. Once it grew to night, we camped in a bare clearing with only a short fire that lasted long enough for us to cook what little supplies we had. I didn't want to risk a lot of smoke from the moistened wood and we needed to rise early if we wanted to make good time. The conquistadors spoke to one another in their mother tongue, and while I did not know her very well, I decided to keep close to the lady Emmaline so they did not get any funny ideas of witch burning.

After a restless sleep with no incident, we arose and continued on. Luckily we found a clear stream mid-morning and we filled our canteens, though I made sure to tell them we would need to boil the water just in case. They groaned but accepted the logic, and I made sure to cross the stream first to check for alligators. The huge beasts loved laying in wait in any water source, and even though they preferred larger ones, many used the small channels to travel from one swamp to the other. Luck was still on our side and the coast was clear, and we continued to trek across.

I found out the woman in the apron's name was Callibel, and the older merchant was Fletcher Heronmark of the Heronmark estates. Callibel didn't seem very interested in tell me why she was in this Black Delta, but Fletcher informed me it was his job to check out new prospects for his family's logging business. He wanted to go on one last trek before he passed, and insisted he used to be quite the adventurer. It was hard to see, but then again I probably wouldn't be the best judge.

Around early afternoon, after we stopped to boil some water for a bit and drank to our leisure, we heard what sounded like a bird call. The others paid no heed to it, but my blood ran cold. I recognized exactly what that was, and though I only whispered, there was an authority in my voice that gave everyone else pause.

"Stop. Stop moving," I said to them.

They wheeled on me, giving looks that ranged from annoyance to incredulity. Emmaline began to form a question, but even as she did so, there was a warning snarl from just up ahead, and then a guttural growl that threatened us to our left. The group unsheathed what weapons they had, but I didn't back away. I knew we were about to be herded. "No no, keep going forward." I urged them, and when they hesitated I marched at the head of the group and stepped just beyond the vines where the snarl had originated, axe at the ready.

Nothing.

My eyes caught alien shaped, human-sized prints and I turned back to the others. "We need to keep moving. They're trying to get us to go east into a tra-"

"Beren!" Emmaline cried. I blinked and spun, just in time to see a two-hundred pound raptor leap from its ambush spot behind the trunk of a black-barked tree. As tall as a man and twice as long, with a thick tail for balanced and razor sharp fangs and claws, it was a creature out of nightmare to most anyone. My staff spun, but I only gave the thing a glancing blow from a quick hit across the snout as it's rear leg kicked up, trying to disembowel me. I backstepped, sweat beading as it did not relent, snapping its maw at me. I lifted my staff to block and its teeth sank into the odari wood of the pole. Intelligence gleamed in its eyes as it shoved itself forward, trying to rend me with its claws as I held it at bay.

I leaped up and kicked out with my foot, striking it at the center of its powerful neck. The blow caused it to wheeze, but it was intent on the kill. I felt a white pain across my arm and a small trickle of blood bead out of the wound into the ground. I grit my teeth, knowing if I let up my guard it would rip me to pieces but not knowing what else to do. Where were the fucking mercs!?

A scream erupted from the side, and a wide brimmed hat rushed into my vision to the right of my shoulder. The raptor gave a clicking screech and staggered from some attack, and when Emmaline withdrew I saw her sword covered in blood. I couldn't see the abject panic on her face she had, so I assumed her eyes were set like any veteran of combat. I didn't waste the opportunity, withdrawing my staff from its mouth and striking it across the head as hard as I could, the beast now slower from the terrible wound. It swayed as I withdrew my axe, and a whirring cut to the side of its skull sent it to the ground, dead.

We both panted hard, and I looked at Emmaline, who by that time had regained her composure and gave me a look of satisfaction.

"You're fearless..." I marveled, suitably impressed at her quick thinking.

"Like killing orcs back home," She said with a smirk, lying through her teeth I would later find out. She looked back to the dead dinosaur, her expression now hidden again. "What now?"

The others stepped into view, and one glance at them told me they had been too scared or confused to help. The mercs tried to hide their fear with a stone-visage, and they now looked at Emmaline in envy at her apparent bravery.

"We killed one of the pack. Their plan didn't work, so they abandoned this one. But we need to keep moving." I said.

"Witch. She probably summoned the things-" The first conquistador began with an accusatory gaze. Before he even finished the thought, I didn't know whether to laugh at the ridiculous accusation or not, so I settled for punching him. Any one look at me tells you I'm a strong guy, and while I didn't knock him out, he did get some air from the sudden strike. The merc backpedaled unceremoniously and hit a tree, before slumping to the ground.

"Better being a witch than a little bitch," I said to him, and regarded his friend who did not know whether to draw his sword at me or not. "Pick him up, we still need to cover some ground."

Hesitantly, he did so. Callibel and Fletcher strayed away from the two Dre Costans, hovering closer to me and looking at the dead dinosaur like it was a slain demon. I knelt down by its corpse, and decided to make the best of the kill. Three chops, and we had the thing's tail. Dinner for later...

That night, there were three fires. This time we had found a ravine near a waterfall, where the rock wall almost acted as an awning over the group. We figured we could have the luxury of a fire, and to make three just so any watchers figured we were a much larger group that they should probably avoid. The waterfall cascaded not ten paces away, filling the air with a nice spray that reached our sensibilities but not the fires, hidden from the north and east by the stone walls towering above us.

I sat with Emmaline. Earlier it had been from obligation to keep her safe, but now I was honestly wanting to talk. Snakes were scared of her, and she had fought the murk beast and helped kill the raptor. It had only been a few days but I was thoroughly impressed, not to mention she was pretty. I might be a monk, but I had a taken in a good view of her extravagant backside throughout the trek, as much as I tried to push the thought away. I made it a point not to fraternize with customers, or any northerner. They didn't tend to stay long and that was a different world to me. Plus, she was a baroness! I was a blacksmith who moonlights as a guide for hapless travelers.

"You ever had dinosaur tail before?" I asked her, handing her a stick piercing a steaming piece of raptor steak. She took it and looked at it dubiously, before taking her hat off and shaking her long golden locks. It looked like waves of flame in the dancing firelight. She bit into it just as I did, and it felt a bit stringy, but it was juicier than one might expect. She shrugged, and then turned the stick on its side and placed it in her teeth, much like the raptor had earlier in the day. Unstrapping her baldrics and belts, she took her coat off and thrust her chest out as she said "needsh shome shaushe."

"Yeah, that's what IIIIIIIIWwwwwooooouuuhhhh-"

It was probably the dumbest, most ignominious thing I had ever done on one of these treks. When I saw her take her jacket off and reveal just what assets she had, my brain just died and my tongue went limp. I swear, that wasn't normal. But I was not expecting it at ALL, and gods forbid I could have gotten a warning. I saw her eyes look at me, and my eyes went to hers and met the gaze. My face colored and I looked away. If I was alone I would have laughed my ass off at how stupid I was, but I wasn't alone.

"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat. I stood up, guiltily. "That was uncalled for and unneeded. You don't deserve that, especially from some guy you don't know. I'll just take my dumbass and leave..."

I was fully about to walk away.

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The Elder Scrolls: Endless Night

Life was full of ironies.

Even after these past years, he still marveled at how his youth had been spent fretting over Imperialist occupation of his homeland, and here he was, a Nord in the very heart of Imperial land as one of those 'foreigners.' What's more, he earnestly cared about the people of this town. The men and women who just lived their lives and tried to make a living, and it filled him with contempt and anger that someone was killing them. Something he would have done himself once, with very little thought to it to boot.

Yes, ironies and dark thoughts. He was no stranger to such musings, but they plagued him particularly poorly this day. It was a sure sign he had been working too much. It was a sign he needed a bloody drink.

Hakon stepped into the tavern, his face lined from working the bellows. He hadn't even noticed the early setting of the sun. He felt tired enough for it to be night, and it set much like when it might back in Rorikstead. The warmth of the torches felt nice, and a familiar face he saw brought a laugh to him. Down the first three steps into the common room to the left of the main body sat an Orc, Thurgred. The green, brawny Orc had scavenged a small meal at a table for four, but as usual he saw Hakon before the Nord had even announced his presence, turning around to give him a smile that showed his tusks.

"You started without me," Hakon said, patting his friend and pulling out a seat just next to him, the chairs grating along the floor.

"Do you see a drink in my hand? I wouldn't grab any grog before the prince of the north arrived." Thurgred remarked with his grating voice. The ribs he had on his plate were cleaned almost as thoroughly as if a dog had taken to them. Hakon politely called for the passing waitress to bring them two mugs of mead, and more ribs. She was a familiar face and Hakon gave her a smile in thanks as she sauntered off.

Thurgred and Hakon began to speak of their day, making the occasional joke or jibe. It wasn't obvious, but Orcs and Nords tended to get on quite well when given the chance. Both had strong work ethics, abrasive senses of humor, and both cultures prized warriors and combat very highly. Hakon was a somewhat atypical Nord, but he found he acted more like his father when around Thurgred. After their drinks arrived, they both took a hearty swig and began to speak of more serious matters.

"You've taken time off your busy day to hear about the last killing?" Thurgred inquired.

"I have." Hakon said grimly, remaining silent for a moment. "They seem random to me, but they've all been men as I am. Still, I would keep your axe close." The Nord took the moment to turn his head to survey the crowd, and he spotted a few familiar faces. He spotted the healer step through the door. Granuile? He had only seen her in passing. The old Dereno had walked past him on the road, and now he sat down alone at a table. He had always liked him. And perhaps that was Uriel at the bar with his head down...

"Strange things abroad. Something about this night bodes ill." Thurgred said as Hakon turned back to him and finished his first drink. "I don't like it, Hakon."

"Well, it's early yet." Hakon told him. He meant nothing by it, but it felt like the tightening of a noose.

At The Edge of The World

The woman with the apron had wisely leaped out of the raft, treading water toward the shoreline. One glance showed me she was going on the correct side which was good, though a small measure of comfort as the large raft began to tip, it's right side submerged and its left side sliding up into a 60 degree angle. The merchant hit the water, as did most of his supplies and merchanside. The mercenaries fired their weapons into the monster, but their wild shots only bloodied it or pierced tentacles. It gave a loud, undulating screech as it opened its maw.

"Eep!" Emmaline squeaked, and then screamed as she lost her grip on the raftboards and slid swiftly towards the monster's many-teethed mouth. Looking back, it was lucky aristocrats and adventurers both wore many belts and baldrics on their person, otherwise it would have turned out very nasty for her. My right hand holding the side of the raft that tipped upwards, I made a grab for her belt and managed to slip three fingers through the leather loop, her scream ending in a panic gasp when she felt her weight returning and her large rump was no longer sliding precariously closer to the monstrosity. A tentacle slapped at the boards just below her dangling feet but couldn't reach her, and she curled her legs up and looked up at me hanging on like an ape.

"I told you you'd be alright." I said to her with a reassuring, if strained smile. Like a dwarf, my word was my bond. I wouldn't let a thing happen to her after I said it, though that was the plan for everyone when we first set out. Unfortunately, I couldn't keep all of them alive.

The mercenaries had scrambled, one having successfully hacked off a tentacle with his sidesword before diving into the water. The other was clumsier, falling ass-first into the river but surfacing a moment later, making strong strokes toward the shore. The third conquistador was less lucky, having been caught on the center of the craft as it upturned. He slid towards the monster, and though I saw him manage to grab at a board, he was ensconced in tentacles and unceremoniously shoved into the monstrosities mouth. It was like watching a shark swallow something like a snake would.

"Eugh," Emmaline and I said unison, dangling above the maw. We looked away as the man's screams were engulfed by his form sliding down the creature's throat.

"Pull me up! Pull me up!" The lady Emmaline cried. I didn't need to be told twice, hauling her up and telling her to grab onto me with a 'hold on!' Unfortunately, she did it a bit too well, her arms wrapping around my neck as tightly as a constrictor. My neck was strong, but she had the desperate strength of survival and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. The raft began to crack, and I wheezed a 'too tight!' as I clambered up. Her grip lessened marginally, but she wrapped her legs around my waist, her buxom form pressing against my hard body. Normally I would have been hot and bothered, but I found it was probably the best thing she could do in that situation.

Desperately I raised a leg atop the raft's side, and just as the wood collapsed I made a leap like a frog. Emmaline squealed as we sailed through the air, but my aim was pretty well made. My fingers found a bough covered in moss hanging over the river, my powerful arms moving swiftly as I used my hands to move us from over the river to where dry land awaited. The monster behind us groaned, but it did not make another sound. After being so wounded, along with a stomach full of mercenary, it was likely content to stay away from the group now. The last I saw of it, the raft fell atop its mass as both sunk.

What I was curious on was why it had even been here? Those type of creatures did not go to this part of the river unless something had moved it from its den. Of course, there are always rare sightings and flukes, but it did not sit right with me. I pondered this as we swayed back and forth with the movement of my arms, and once over the hard ground of the riverside, I dropped. I bent my knees to lessen the fall, but an 'oof' escaped my lips from the added weight of another person clinging to me.

Trees crowded around us, vines and moss hanging from branches like threads to tug on. The ground was covered in dead leaves and dark soil, and to my relief I saw the rest of the group. The woman with the apron coughed out water, but in her hands she held my staff and she seemed to be relatively alright. The merchant wrung his hat out, water spilling out of it, but for a posh old man he did not seem to dispirited from almost being devoured.

"It's that bitches fault!"

The other two mercenaries were the only ones standing, drenched in river water and bleeding from various swipes from the tentacles. The lead one's mustache drooped like the moss hanging above. He still had his rifle, though the powder was no good, and both still had their swords. They glared daggers at Emmaline, who's face hung just above my shoulder. I glanced back at her and then glared at the mercenaries.

"It's no one's fault-" I started, but he cut me off.

"You're just saying that because you want her money! I should never have come on this expedition!" I saw a glint in his eye I didn't like. I also found it humorous he claimed I wanted her money when the only thing I took from her, I immediately gave it back. Then again, he didn't know that. The mercenary continued. "Where do we go from here, eh? Any advice mighty guide?"

"There's a trail a few miles north, but it doesn't end anywhere I know of." I admitted, thinking of our options. "But it does bring us closer to the outpost. We can hack our way through after it ends, if we must."

At The Edge of The World

Emmaline Von Morganstern!? I had never heard of a more haughty, illustriously lavish name in his entire life. Just hearing it made me see courts of posh aristocrats and high born popinjays flocking to one another to see who had the bigger stretch of land. I tried not to laugh, and thankfully I succeeded with a will. But a smile still played on my lips. Gods, I really did escort everyone on these journeys, didn't I? Maybe next time I'll would meet some Lord named Duke Constantius Von Hohenstaufen or something.

Still, despite the profuse name, she was a woman traveling alone and wielding weapons. He had to respect it. Hell, she even held a dwarf weapon, or so it looked like. There were very few flintlock firearms out there, after the supposed extinction of the gnomes and the dwarves halting their trade of black powder weaponry. Even with connections, I wondered how she managed to grab one. It was more advanced than the conquistador's firearms, for certain.

Once I handed her treasure back to her, she seemed to lighten up and saw fit to grace me with conversation. I couldn't hide my wry smile at her comment on how I knew the river. Maybe she wasn't used to speaking with someone as uncouth as me. I was probably practically barbaric, or the an image of the 'noble savage' I had heard from certain Andredian works.

"Well, my lady Von Morganstern..." I began, gently pushing the pole into the soft riverbed to swing us to the right. My manner was purposefully easy, but my eyes were on the trees and waters before us. "In this land there are no guarantees, but if you stick close to me, I'll give you my word you'll make it to your destination safe and sound. I was born here and made this trip many times." I finished my pledge by pushing the raft to the left, my muscles growing large from the exertion.

"I've noticed you've been avoiding going under certain trees. Why is that?" The blonde woman asked. She was sharper than I gave her credit for. I guess nobles did get expensive educations. I didn't fathom it was because she was used to her own extensive use of tricks and slights of hand.

I sighed, somewhat enjoying the answering of questions but also not wishing to start a panic. I looked up, and then to the left at a curve in the river. I redirected the raft to meander across a deeper section of river, past a decaying skeleton of a large beast even I could not recognize.

"You certain you're not imagining things?" I asked with a grin, clearly joking whilst also being extremely transparent about stalling for time. Emmaline gave me a knowing look, and I gritted his teeth and exhaled. Well, I didn't want to cause any sort of panic but... "There are these trees called Makishan Trees. They... well you don't want to be under them. They uh... they drip acid."

Silence filled the boat, save for a few gasps. I could feel their growing worry, could see it in their eyes. I took a deep breath. "It mostly just happens when it rains, but the water and the sap together fall off and can burn through clothing, skin, and maybe the raft if we're not careful. Don't worry, they aren't everywhere. They're only on this section of the journey. I just want to be safe."

"You wan- You want to be safe!?" Emmaline balked incredulously, standing to her feet and placing her hands on her shapely hips.

"And you like this land!?" The woman sporting the apron asked with disbelief from behind them.

"No wonder the old Empire could not hold here for long." A conquistador muttered, gripping his arquebas tighter.

"Sit down and don't yell," I told them, especially Emmaline.

"I say sir, I do believe we might benefit for some lunch!" The old merchant in the back exclaimed, oblivious to the current conversation. I looked back to tell him to be quiet like I told the others, but my words died on my lips when I looked back. A tentacle-like appendage had risen out of the waters, small pincers unlatching from its hide to form into a grasping protuberances. It suddenly slapped down on the old man's shoulder, gripping into his skin and flesh and yanking him into the water with unbelievable force.

"Murk beast!" I cried, dropping my pole and taking out my axe. Even now I could see a serapod-like head rise out, filled with saber teeth and malevolence in its near lifeless eyes. I had never seen one before, but I knew all about them. Many tentacled abominations, both reptilian and cephalopod and yet neither all at once. It's main body was the size of an ox and they were intensely territorial.

And perpetually hungry.

Fortune & Glory: Grimdark Pulp RP

"I do?" Beren asked, surprised. He shook the noble's hand firmly, as all polite greetings warranted. The Baron winced at the shake and swiftly drew his hand back, and Beren tried not to show that he knew he should have been gentler. Sometimes he didn't know his own strength... The Baron's smile returned instantly, however, most likely to save face as to also be polite. Beren owed this man a lot, he would definitely let him have it.

"Yes," he said, babying his hand after he slid it behind his back. He held his head high to act as if it was merely a pose. "The delectable lady here was dreadfully worried about you. She stayed by your side throughout your affliction. I would consider myself lucky you've got such a smart, beautiful woman to care for you."

He laid it on so thick Beren's face flushed, but Jocasta used the opportunity to laugh and wave her hand dismissively. "Please, Lord Marius, Beren has saved my life more than once. Besides, he's so handsome." She said, snuggling up to Beren's arm. The monk knew she was playing a part, but he also had the distinct impression she was using the ploy additionally to toy with Beren and speak some truth. He'd get her for that, later. But he also couldn't deny he sort of enjoyed it.

"If you'll excuse us, my lord." Beren said, inclining his head. "I believe I need to borrow Jocasta for a moment."

"Of course, enjoy your evening. We'll shall speak soon," The Baron said with all the authority of his station, waving them away. It would have been rude had it been from a commoner, but from him it looked as natural as breathing. Beren and Jocasta gave a bow, and then made their way over to one of the standing tables.

"You didn't tell me you had a surprise for me," Jocasta said facetiously.

"You didn't tell me you could do magic when we first met. Surprised the hell out of me," He said with a smile.

"I like to keep you guessing," she winked. Beren couldn't tell she was trying to hide some pain, deep within herself. She could act well when she wanted to. She stepped in front of him. "Now, what would you like to tell me?"

"First, let me get some drinks and some of the free food. Stay here and hold down the fort, ok?"

Once she gave the nod, he waded across the banquet hall to the buffet. The food was steaming, well-done steak cut up into chunks wrapped in bacon accompanied by hashbrown casserole and assorted veggies, with water and red wine to wash it all down. Potato salad, creamy and rich, lay in a large bowl and lightly dressed with spices, and even more! Beren took his time, and as he did so, a signal was made.

The tall, statuesque Lord Vandenhardt stood speaking to Gloria Hawkmoore and Lord Glimburg, but his eyes had followed Beren's tracks. He pulled out a small mirror from within his jacket and fiddled with it, letting the light of the oil lamps flash across it twice, indicating now was the time. A shapely woman with red hair, spun and tied intricately, sporting a ball-gown that hugged her slim waist and full bosom, strode over to where Jocasta waited and lightly touched her arm to gain her attention.

"I'm sorry," the woman said breathily. "I was wondering... I've heard of your companion, the hunky one?" She pointed at the buffet. "I've been watching him the last half hour and I have to ask, are you two... together? Because if not, I think I'll ask him to dance. I hope you don't think I'm being boorish, but I have to ask."