POOHEAD189

Ill Met in Ostland

Marius's explanation of loaning etiquette was something he could handle. This miniature siege he felt wholly inadequate to perform admirably in. As soon as the window was broken, Marius fired his horse pistol and the guardsman's pistol into the din, sending smoke and the stench of powder wafting through the hall.

"Doon't feyer unless you hef a shoot." Natasha cautioned with a cool tone. It irked Marius how collected the woman was. In the midst of his furious reloading, he managed to glimpse her slowly placing her chin on her carbine, inhaling and slowly exhaling as she took a shot. A strangled cry went up in the din, and she smirked.

"Good job," He admitted, breathlessly. She gave him a wink, but before he could share a moment with her, something hit Marius's shoulder and sent him flying back against the side of the corridor. He found himself pinioned to the wall by something sticking into the cloth of his cloak and vest, just beside his neck. He pulled himself off the wall, ripping his top but luckily the merchant found he was uninjured.

"Sheet! They haf crussboos." She said, ducking just as a quarrel broke through another window, embedding into the wood above her head. Marius could guess why that was a problem. They might not have the punch of a musket ball, but they were quiet, with good range, and they didn't need powder. Natasha rolled forward and knelt before Marius, taking one of his pistols to help reload. "Gif me thet."

The two reloaded together as more quarrels and a few scattered gunshots splintered the wood around them. Marius fumbled the powder, but managed to catch it before it was fully spent and continued to pour it in. Just as they were finishing, there was a large knock just downstairs, followed by another, and then a third.

"Theh ar tekking ex to duur." She said, getting to her feet in a flash. Marius reached out to grab her hand, surprising even himself. "No, wait! You stay up here. I have an idea."

She looked at him incredulously, but nodded. Marius took his pistols and turned the corner, hurrying downstairs as quietly as he could. He ran past the barred front door, even then seeing an axe head chip through and rustle the chairs stacked against the timber. He ignored it, heading into the kitchen. This wasn't the most clever idea, but it was something. He opened the cabinet, pulling out flour and jugs of spices, then searching the doors to the counter. He scrambled to the table and shoved it aside, finding nothing underneath.

"If I were greedy guards, where would I keep the bloody alcohol?" He asked aloud, his thoughts having only the chopping in the next hall for company. Swiftly, it dawned on him. Marius knelt and whisked away the carpet in the kitchen, revealing a small door. He grabbed the iron ring and yanked the portal back to reveal a stairway leading into the darkness. Marius coughed at the sudden stuffiness but climbed down anyway, reaching the bottom of the cellar and finding three well stocked shelves of varying brews. To his utter disbelief, he also saw a sliver of light across the cellar.

"Sigmar's mercy..."

Marius grabbed all of the alcohol he could, pouring it over the door and the hallway as more shots rang out.

"Marioos! Waut ar yuu doing?!"

"One moment!" He called up, spreading the rest of the powder on the floor to add a bit of kick to his plan. Once four bottled were empty, he felt it was an adequate amount of flammable material, and he sprinted up the stairs to Natasha, who shot once more through the window. There was another strangled yell even as Marius grabbed her arm.

"Come with me, I know a way out." He told her.

"A wey oot?" She asked, confused.

"Yes, come on!"

The two grabbed their belongings and weapons and hurried downstairs just as the door was about to give way. Gun barrels were shoved through the holes and gunshots rang through the hall, whizzing by the two companions and they fled across the corridor to the kitchen Once they were there, Marius pointed to the cellar. "Get in fraulien. There's a door that leads outside. As soon as I give the signal, you need to go and run for the horses."

"Tha seegnal?"

"You'll know it!" He told her, urging her to go. She nodded, not understanding but knowing he had a plan and dropped down into the dimness. Once her black haired head disappeared, Marius gave a small prayer to Sigmar, his hands holding the two pistol barrels against his forehead. Sweat beaded down his brow, and he realized with embarrassment he felt very close to soiling himself.

He let out a yelp when the door to the main hall burst open, and loud voices rose as big men shouldered their way through. Marius turned the corner in the far doorway to the kitchen, poking his head around to see five guardsmen wearing Grunson colors marching in with axes and guns, one holding a readied crossbow pointed up. Their eyes swiveled to him as soon as they saw movement, and they hefted their weapons as one cried. "Give it up and it'll be painless!"

"Unfortunately for both my father and you gentlemen, I don't give up." Marius remarked theatrically, lowering his pistol at the gathered pile of blackpowder just a few paces away and exhaling as he pulled the trigger.

Things seemed to move in slow motion after that. Even knowing what was coming, Marius was taken aback by the explosive force. A concussive shockwave hit him even as he yanked himself around the corner, and he saw a glimpse of the guards faces just as the fire leaped up. One of them had the wits to look horrified, but the rest still looked either confused or simply angered. Of course, they were very dead now, but it was a snapshot he would remember for a long time. Heat billowed into the kitchen as Marius slid across the floor from the blast, flames leaping into sight. Screams outside showed that there had been more men hot on their heels. His ears rang and his head swam, but true to his previous statement, this Wissenland merchant was as stubborn as any Ostland bull. He pulled himself over to the cellar door and unceremoniously fell inside like a fallen rock. He coughed and felt ill, but light streamed from the left, and he heard a horse whinny. Marius pulled himself up and staggered across the cellar, holding his evidently damaged shoulder, bruised or harmed likely from having hit the ground so hard.

"Marioos!" He heard her voice.

Marius burst into the light.

At The Edge of The World

I looked at the snake bracelet, that had used to be a snake armlet, and had also decided to be a tattoo, and truth be told I was a bit lost. I sat there, big arms crossed and one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"So...that doesn't happen often, right?" I asked her.

"Not even once before, no." She said, though I could tell as she said it, she was questioning on whether it had ever occurred before without her knowledge or notice. At least she did not seem concerned, and that had to be good enough for me. While I knew some of my fair share of lore, magic was an enigma to my experiences. Then I had a thought, and I felt like she wouldn't like it, but I had to voice it anyway. "Do you think since you're up now, you can take watch and I can get a bit of sleep?"

She hid it well, but I could see the loathing in her eyes. Not at me, but at the fairness of the question, which I still felt somewhat guilty about even if I shouldn't. "Sure," she said. "It'll give me some time to see what exactly is going on with this snake talisman thingy anyway."

"Thanks," I told her, and settled in on my bit of cloth I had lain for a nap until sunrise. I felt Emmaline was a hero, even more experienced fighting monsters and trekking across untamed wilderness than I was. But at the time I guessed my homeland didn't suit her. She seemed off-put being out here now, after our first stay in civilization. I knew we couldn't reliably stay at the outpost when the rain and typhoons showed up. We would run out of money and food and likely lodging. That waystation was not meant to be used year-round. Even the innkeeper closed The Maw for two months out of the year, and often times boarded the place and left before the rains hit. Not to mention the reptilian beasts of the river grew more bold as the waters rose.

She would much prefer Darkwater, I knew for a fact. Good food, drink, music, and even art and culture. I was looking forward to going back, for sure. The last time I was there was a decade ago with my dad. I wondered if things were the same. As I drifted off to sleep, I decided I would see about getting Emmaline something notable when we got there. If we were together, I wanted to treat my girl. Just seemed natural to me. My world went dark as I wondered what it would be...

3 days later...

We had made good time. My arm got a good workout with having to hack through foliage and ferns, and Emmaline made sure to widen the path at my flanks as we moved. At one point, we found a clearing where a herd of reptilian behemoth's dwelled. They had three horns on their vast, shield-like heads. They were built like dwarven steam tanks, and one even looked our way. But none chased us off as we hugged the treeline and passed the impressively peaceful beasts.

Twice we had to traverse past waterways. The first time was a relatively clear stream Emmaline and I waded through, naught but fish and small mussels as company. We filled our canteens and restocked our supplies with a bit of fishing on my end. Well, I thought it was fishing. Emmaline was endlessly entertained when I stripped myself of my shirt and speared a few for dinner, watching me in a way that made me mess up in my attempt once or twice.

The other instance we had to cross was the problematic one. As we had hiked around a small cliff, climbing up an incline using a rope I had to fastened to a tree at the top of the slope with a well aimed swing, we found a river with what appeared to be large, darkly colored floating logs. I knew better as soon as I saw them, but my companion hadn't the experience I had in this area of the world.

Emmaline looked like she was ready to go across to just get it over with. "Well, at least we can use one of those logs as something to float across. Maybe there's a woodman's camp nearby? With beds and drinks..." but just as her foot touched the water I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back.

"Hey! What are yo-"

"Those aren't logs, babe." I said simply.

She wriggled for a moment, insisting I was crazy under her breath, but her eyes fell on the large objects in the water, and she gaped when one of the 'fallen trees' opened its eyes and then sunk into the water on its own accord.

"Oh..." she breathed, feeling a bit guilty for her lack of trust. She smiled remorsefully and turned around to a kiss on my lips. "Thanks. Glad to have a boyfriend with good eyes."

Her approval made me smile. "We're almost there. Across this river we just have two more days of walking and we'll be on clean sheets and I'll take you out to dinner at a nice place." I promised. She stepped back and I grabbed my rope and hook, double checking to make sure it was fastened and its integrity wasn't compromised before I started eyeballing the potential trees I could fling it at to use as a swing across the river.

"Once I find a spot, you go first. Just hold on tight and then toss it back." I told her, the hook already twirling over my head.

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

The next day...

Emmaline and Neil had a fitful sleep. The kind of slumber that one got when they were so tired they could barely sleep, intermittently waking up every few hours to check there was no mutant standing over them with a battle axe. Neil finally woke up for real to an overcast sky, thunder or cannon fire or both, he didn't know, rumbled in the distance. Emmaline shot her head up when he stirred, her blonde hair frizzled and wild, awakening in mid-snort. She had bags under her eyes and drool on her lips. She looked like Neil felt, and judging by the sounds, the battle was still raging out there.

"Ugh...fuck it." Neil said, swinging his legs over and getting up out of the bed. They hadn't even had the energy to make out much less make love last night, and now the giant centipede, lack of sleep, and the overall existential dread of whether or not beastmen would break into the city had Neil grumpy, which was a rarity. He was a happy guy usually! He rubbed his left eye, scratching off bits of flaked, loose material that had coalesced over night and groaning.

"What babe?" Emmaline asked with a yawn, curling up atop the covers like a cat.

"I said fuck it." He relayed, chopping his hand out as if to cut a metaphysical cord that connected him to his bad mood. "Look, we've saved this city twice, we've almost died a bunch of times, I'm still considered dead and your cover is too and people here have mostly treated us like shit." He shook his head, as if what he was about to say was the most natural thing in the world. A cannon shot rang off just before he said it, the whistle of the ball high in the air. "Let's go looting."

Emmaline's full lips tried to articulate a question or response, but nothing came out other than a "huh?"

"Look," He said, turning around and placing his finger on the bed. "I know where some of the best booze in Nuln is, right now. The guards are too busy with the siege and the other looters and whatever beastmen can swim. We're not going to take anything that starving people will need, but I want to get drunk, have another party with you, and then if we can we leave the city..." He shrugged, "and if we can't at least we had a good time before we had to start fighting for our lives. Let's just go and grab the biggest haul of alcohol and chocolate that we can, bring it back here, and eat it right on this bed. Don't we deserve something nice? That sounds good, right?"

"Well it's not my usual manner of work, but... yeah, that sounds good." She admitted.

"It's not mine either, really. And by looting, I mean we should still be subtle about it. But it sounds cooler to call thievery looting. I think in a city under siege, legally we are obligated to call it that."

"I don't know if that's really the case..." Emmaline said, though she did smile a little.

"And after we loot and party and drink and fuck, I'll take us out of here and I'll give you Karl Franz's palace like I said." He told her. It was hard to imagine he was being serious, but it was always hard to tell with Neil Edwards.

Gold & Glory: AU thread

"With me," Markus told them, leading them up the planks in their gear and onto the deck of the ship. Two drucchi were up top, folding rigging and keeping an eye on things, though the last thing they expected was the need to be alert for anyone save the watch captain finding they were meandering about. Unfortunately for them, Markus and the two elves, once on board, approached them straight away. The two drucchi saluted in their strange fashion, but the three did not answer with words. Instead their blades sang out, catching the drucchi by surprise and ending their miserable lives before they could even cry out.

Morek rushed forward, grabbing one of the fallen drucchi swords. He spat on the weapon with distaste, but ran forward with it to the stairway leading into the brig. Emmaline followed at Markus' orders, wanting her to use her expertise in metallurgic magic to free the crew and quickly. As Indrin and Sulandar stood watch to replace the drucchi they had just killed, Markus dragged both corpses to the back of the ship and dumped them over, relieving them of their knives and swords beforehand. As Markus returned, he heard Indrin whisper. "They're almost here!"

The two elves moved back from the ship's railing, taking positions back on the aft castle to keep themselves visible but out of immediate scrutiny as Markus hurried downstairs, just as Emmaline and Morek were opening the chained door.

"A bloody dark elf!" Sketti roared when Markus elbowed past Emmaline, but when he removed his helmet, the dwarf engineer's ire was cooled, and he let out a sudden and hearty laugh, bellowing "Captain!" Sketti had some cuts along him, but nothing a dwarf couldn't handle. The rest of the crew followed suit with cheers and laughter. Morgan looked relieved and proud, thankfully looking none the worse for wear save a few whip marks. Markus would normally be happy, but instead he merely tossed what weapons he had to the floor. He was too pissed off to even pretend he was glad to see them. They were only halfway done.

"Brod, Edard, Frankfurt, and you Sketti, take these. Halfdan, take the chain from the door. In a few heartbeats we'll have a dozen dark elves here what thinks you're still slaves. On my signal we rush them up top. Care not to hurt the two on the aft, they're Ulthuan elves with us." He said, unsheathing his own accursed blade. There was a short, pregnant silence. Emmaline started to speak, but Markus cut her off with a murderous look. She pipped up, and he turned back to address the crew. "We can celebrate later, but right now I'm no mood for drink or merriment. We will wash the Hammer in drucchi blood before we set sail out of here with their corpses laid on the side of the ship. Leave no one alive or so help me I'll kill you myself and feed you to the sharks."

"Aye! You heard 'em!" Sketti said, his cheery disposition replaced with an expression of grim determination. The other men got to their weapons quickly, and those that couldn't stretched their taut muscles. Morek tossed the chain to Halfdan, who measured the length of the heavy object in his big hands and slung it against the ship wall for good measure, nearly splintering some of the wood.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

"I imagine that's a wise course of action," I said, inspecting the assembled group with muted consternation. We had donned what costumes we could and went over our roles again and again, but despite the months since our first encounter and the weeks en route to Kamden and Havenos, any other inquisitor would consider this a ragtag group at best. Retroactively, I wished we had been given more time on Pacitus, but selfishly I had gotten restless. It was good to be back in the field, even if it was potentially a short jaunt to find my missing agent and subdue a low-life named Nagrip.

I led the group from the central road down a splinter street of mudbrick, heading towards a trading shed with the look of a run-down chalet. Pelts and fetishes hung over a wooden marquee, swaying in the light wind as pioneers looking for game or to make a name for themselves conversed in low-gothic, sporting autoguns and thick-bladed knives at their hips. A few of them looked our way as we approached. I admit it was hard not to notice us, as I was in the company of three attractive woman and a giant in armor. I, for all my supposed charm, could better fit in I had learned. I sported a coarse jacket and a wide brimmed hat in the fashion of game hunters, my autogun at my hip and a combat shotgun at my back, sawed short to conceal its military grade fittings with a conventional gun-case.

We stopped at the front, if one could call it that, and I motioned for Salencia to stay there, glancing at Lucius who wouldn't be able to fit through the door unless he tore the roof apart. "Keep the good woman company. Make sure these fine gentlemen don't get any ideas." I remarked at the adventurer's expense, and winked at Salencia. She took my meaning, though I could tell she likely wondered why Emmaline wasn't staying out here to keep watch on the occasionally murderous post-human, but I needed her inside in case her psychic powers would be of use to gather information. Clara would be our back up.

The door creaked open, banging the wall with the rattling of a closed shutter. Tables with set collections of knives, bullets, energy packs, recoil dampeners, enhanced magazine capacitors, and vox-casters were laid over grox skins and ambull carapaces as phylodar teeth hung from the ceiling, glowing ivory in the lantern light. Three men in rough leathers and flack jackets stood in the corner, one holding a long gun as the other appreciated the smithing of the weapon. Another clung to a bio-scanner as if it were an STC. An older man with a jaw made of metal, bio-mechanically connected to the joint ligaments of his jaw, walked out of the back with a tray with three bottles of rotgut booze.

All four turned when I entered with Clara and Emmaline, the boisterous chattering coming to a stop. I tipped my hat to the proprietor, approaching him with my heavy boots. Emmaline followed suit as Clara hung back, the brunette's eyes glancing back and forth to ascertain any hidden defenses, though her eyes caught sight of the equipment laid out and she eyeballed her fair share of the military grade equipment.

"Excuse me," I asked the trader as he set the tray of booze down for the previous customers and approached. He was thin, with eyes that spoke of either kindness or meekness.

"What can I do for you, sir? Madam." He gave Emmaline a nod of his slowly revealing bald pate, fixing his short-brimmed bush hat to cover up the spots once again.

"Know where we can find any Carnodon in these parts?" I asked, leaning against a table and setting a hand to rest on my belt, the other idly lounging atop the holster of my weapon. He looked somewhat surprised, but quickly realigned his stance again.

"Carnodon? That's some big game, sir. Yes, yes uh, I remembering hearing about some sightings due east of here, near the Jroakan Valley. Seems there've been some attacks lately, too."

"They were confirmed Carnodon attacks?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Emmaline tilted her head, looking inquisitive, highly interested in the old timer and what he had to say. She knew how to play her part, at least.

"Well, just what I hear. There have been sightings of them over in those parts most recently." He said, glancing from my penetrating gaze to Emmaline's sparkling blues. "As for the attacks, I just know a few people haven't come back from the valley and the locals are smart enough not to go after us folk. If it's big, green, and tastes good, it's a grox, catch my meaning?"

"Who's gone missing? Off-worlders like us?"

"Is this an omni-scope?" Clara asked from behind us. I turned and the captain of my guard, one to whom I entrusted my life, was holding up a weapon attachment and looking at it as hungrily as Emmaline might gaze at a bowl of icecream.

"Why, yes it is!" The tradesman declared proudly.

"How did you get this?" She asked, intrigued.

"You'd be surprised what desperate men sell when they got nothing else. We get all kinds here, madam. Looking to purchase?"

I cleared my throat.

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

Galt was perceptive, but he couldn't begin to understand her hesitance there. Many were unaccustomed to learning something that brought them into such close contact with an opponent. Bows, crossbows, polearms, even swords kept a level of distance between yourself and whoever you were fighting against, but knife fighting was the most up close and personal form of combat there was. At least, that involved blades. It made sense she would be hesitant, though he did see a small spark in her eyes when she saw him twirled the dagger before her. Maybe there was hope for her yet? He would ask her again later, perhaps once they had gotten to know the other better.

"As you wish, my lady. I just wanted to offer you the same kindness you showed me," He explained, presenting himself in a stressed formality to add some whimsy to the awkwardness.

---

On the appointed day, Galt found himself feeling a bit of trepidation. The ex-thief had gotten used to meeting with people he wasn't entirely familiar with, having gotten the basics down on when to scrape and when to bow and when to graciously welcome someone into his presence. He had even entertained Queen Morgase for a short time the other day, when she had been visiting to speak with the good Duke Valdemar of Mrugalstern whilst the king was entertaining guests from Grand Empire of Peregon. Galt had managed to find out from the most auspicious lady of the land that she had been the daughter of the rival of the current Emperor of Peregon. Galt had said something witty, gods he couldn't even remember it, but evidently she had gushed about him to King Heraclad III. Galt felt that was good.

Right? So he hoped, at least. As he bumped along within the carriage, he recalled how making a reputation for yourself on the streets was either an extremely good or a horribly bad aspect to gain. Fear and notoriety helped one to do a job, but it also put a target on one's back. He wondered if word had gotten out already, and if Silke's brother would be more or less pleasant with such knowledge. Either way, he would suck it up and learn the bow if it was the last thing he would do.

He glanced out the window as he entered the gates of the Kasper residence, passing by iron embellishments in the shapes of lions and statues of mythic creatures he did not have the pedigree to recognize. Eventually, the carriage was dragged by the well manicured ferns and brush of the front lawn, and a stately looking man, likely a chamberlain, awaited him by the stone stairway leading up to the large oaken door once he slowed to a stop.

He wondered about her brother not being present to greet him, but he supposed it didn't overly matter. Galt didn't know if Silke was here or not, and though he imagined she was on the premises, he couldn't guess if he would see her. He hoped he would, as it always made the time go by quicker. She had said she wouldn't be present for the lessons, but he guessed he still rather held out some hope for it.

If only he had bow lessons with the Queen.

Ill Met in Ostland

Marius placed his hand on the bedclothes, telling her to relax as he helped stall the bloodflow. She was making light of the wound, but she wasn't entirely wrong either. It was a big cut, but not too deep. The blood would stop shortly if they simply kept the pressure up. Natasha winced, but didn't complain about the pain. At least, not that Marius could tell. She was muttering in her native tongue and looking at the corpse on the ground. A corpse he had put there himself.

Marius Schwarz, the murderer.

Killing beastmen was one thing. Something one might even call heroic, no matter the context. But this? Should he have gone as far as he had? Would people believe him when he said it was in defense of his friend? Was she a friend? He supposed she was, but everything else still churned his stomach. The blood, the death, the predicament. Natasha seemed more annoyed than anything, which he couldn't fathom but at least someone had their head on straight.

Slowly, the pattering of the rain grew louder, until Marius realized it was a separate sound. Boots thudded across the hallway floor, announcing two company guards with chestplates and puffed up hats, one with a pistol out and the other with a sword. The gun-wielder looked aghast at the scene, looking from the body to Natasha and the thoroughly bloodied sheet at her side. The other man looked cooler, as if he had expected some sort of trouble.

"What happened here?"

"I'll tell you." The swordsman said, shaking his head. "We invite these two into our silo and provide lodging and they kill one of our own. Shoot them!"

"What?" The other one asked incredulously.

Marius stared, wondering for all the world what should be done. Thankfully, his tongue found the right path even in such a hard situation as this. "My companion is hurt and we're in her room. Do you think if we were to go and kill your men we would take them in here and do it?" He asked, letting his voice carry. "I was asleep when two men attacked her. I heard a noise and got up, and one of them has escaped. You've got a murderer on the loose but it's not us!"

"Shut your lying tongue!" The swordsman said, his beard catching the flickering light of the lamp as it bobbed up and down with his words.

"No. No, he makes sense Junter. There wouldn't be cause for them to do this. We would catch them no matter what. Why do it here?" He asked aloud. "This other man, did you get a good look at him?"

Even as the pistolier asked, Marius watched in horror as his fellow guardsman lifted his sword and pierced the man through the neck with his blade. Even Natasha was surprised beyond words. Marius drew himself up, pressing his hands to his chest as if he might have an extra pistol on him, but of course he didn't. The killer unsheathed his blade from the flesh of his former comrade and looked at Marius darkly.

"There's a lot of money to be gained here. It's nothing personal." He told him, and stepped forward.

A hole bloomed and bloodied goblets exploded out of the man as a gunshot roared like the thunder outdoors. The would-be assassin looked down at his chest and saw a sundered area near the weaker part of the plate, just at his kidney. He idly felt at the wound, but could only pull his bloodied hand back and look in shock before he too, fell to the floor. Marius whipped his head to the side to see Natasha holding her smoking carbine.

"Peyerheps we shuld leaf." She said, lowering the stock and reloading her weapon.

"Once the rain subsides, I'm with you. For now, let's lock the doors, yeah?"

Ill Met in Ostland

Lightning pierced the skies, heavy rain thudding onto the roof as Marius awoke with a start. He felt he had been falling, but he supposed that was a silly notion. Beastmen were within a days ride and he was here, checking on a a falsified report of a ransacked silo with a barbarous woman, but Marius would never be dumb enough to get that close to a cliff. Ugh, now that he was awake, he felt he needed to take a piss. The Wissenlander cleared his throat and slid off the bed, making his way down the hall to the lavatory. Passing by Natasha's room, he heard some sort of noise and froze, and a muffled cry of what sounded like a moan coming from behind the door. Some bumps were audible, and he chuckled softly.

He supposed life was short and winter was long, as they say. Natasha moved fast though, probably bedding some guard while she had the chance. He wasn't sure if he was uncomfortable with the thought or not, but decided to brush it away and continue to the privy.

Once he felt better, he strode down the same hall, scratching his wild head of hair and yawning. Another noise erupted from the wound, but this time it was a bit more high pitched, and then a man speaking.

"Fucking stick her already!" Came the voice.

Alright, that could also be indicative of some sort of sensual act, but it didn't sound like it. He paused, looking at the door, wondering what to do and coming to terms with the fact he had already decided he needed to burst through now dawning on his sleep addled mind. Sigmar, he hoped he was right! He grabbed the knob and opened the door, stepping into the room and seeing a standing figure, naked steel glinting in the soft light of a lightning bolt crashing into the earth outside. Another two figures were wrestling on the bed, and though he had only been in the act a few times, he was certain they were doing it poorly.

With a growl, Marius hurled himself at the figure watching. He was a broad shouldered thug of a man, and the merchant felt it was the kind of fellow who he would rather hire than fight. But with the element of surprise, Marius managed to get him off his feet and crash into the desk, knocking aside an unlit candle and a glass of half-supped water. Wildly, Marius grabbed the man's head and shoved it into the wall, knocking it against the timber like a hammer. The would-be assassin elbowed Marius, but the Nulner was holding on for dear life, trying to keep the man's blade from being realigned in his other hand for a better strike. Wven with no breath in his lungs, Marius bludgeoned him. He smashed the man's head into the wall again and again, and soon the blade fell out of his fingers and the man slumped, wet, warm blood on Marius' fingers.

"Faucker!" Natasha cried out, kicking her assailant who had just managed to draw a blade. Marius furiously grabbed the backsword on the ground and held it up, shaking but pressing to the man's side.

"Unhand her or I'll kill you where you stand, cur!" He cried with fear and anger.

Request for my existence to be acknowledged.

Welcome!

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

The next day...

The Prelate Voss was a Cobra-Class Destroyer of the Imperial Fleet. Like most of its kind, it was a quick escort ship with a large ordinance of warheads which allowed it to somewhat punch above its weight class. Still, it was smaller than most 'larger' Imperial ships, at just 1.5 kilometers from hull to stern and around 5.7 megatons in weight. 15,000 personnel combed and labored in its depths, but my retinue was given private quarters to inhabit.

I had not quite given up on the name Blasius Deckard, but I decided to play it smart and prepare a different name, going under the guise of Meliton Thracius when it became convenient to do so. At the moment, it was simply nerve-wracking enough to pass off Lucius as an astartes on this trip, much less these past months. It was fortunate no one he knew had ever truly seen a space marine in the flesh, else they would know he stood fully two feet taller and had a far more broad frame. The Imperial personnel did not question it either, other than asking the prudent question of why an astartes was aboard anyway. Luckily, the normal excuse of 'prohibited mission' was enough to see him through.

Clara had come with an assortment of weaponry, laying out all manner of guns for our party on her cot for me to take note of. Combat shotguns were next to long las rifles accompanying a 40mm grenade launcher which sat just beside a plasma pistol across from the solid slug sub-machine guns. Long knives were arrayed at the foot of the bed, and she even produced a catachan fang, which she did not deigned to elaborate on where she got such a unique item.

As I inspected the armory, Lazarus approached with a datapad. "Sir, I have taken the liberty of finding all of the fauna of the world and picking the most reliable game for you to 'hunt'" The tech-priest handed me the datapad and I opened the device. It showed a photograph of an enormous predatory animal, felinoide from the looks of it. Lazarus continued with: "The Carnodon, a large species of mammalian felinoid native to the planet Gudrun. Shipped out onto other worlds in order to keep its population from diminishing due to damage of the planet's atmosphere, they've become quite the invasive species on Havenos."

"Lazarus, I know we are not truly hunting these things, but couldn't you have picked a less deadly animal? This thing is six meters long." I deadpanned.

"It would be the most cognizant explanation of why you are carrying such heavy weaponry and protection, and it is also a noteworthy beast to kill, as it's spread is threatening the populations of the local antelope." He explained, somewhat smugly.

"Very well," I sighed.