POOHEAD189

Fortune & Glory: Grimdark Pulp RP

"Can you even read the runes?" Beren asked her, curiously. The two humans in one of the adjacent rooms, using it with the excuse they had a good vantage to overlook the undercity from the open window to their left. It felt more like an indoor porch made of stone, had that not been underground and without the usual elements of the surface world.

"No..." She remarked, a tad defensively. "But it's dwarven runes, you get credit for trying. I'm certain someone knows-..." She stopped her walk of appraisal, eyes popping open wide. "Wait, you know how to read these!"

She rushed over to him and leaned close, and Beren leaned back, one part holding his ground and one part trying to change the subject. "I do, but that's because I earned their trust. And because of that, I have to stay and fight with them." He said, and Jocasta sighed, shaking her head. Beren threw his arms out wide. "I can't just leave them to this alone!"

"I get it, and I won't leave you here alone!" She said suddenly, but after a moment she looked away from him and seemed to realize what she had declared. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and crossed her arms. "Besides, it's not like I would survive long in the underworld alone anyway."

Beren grinned, suddenly standing very close to her. She tried to hide behind her hair, but he had leaned in close enough to where she couldn't avoid him. "That the only reason?" He asked her teasingly.

A guttural clearing of the throat drew their attention, and the two turned to see Gurin standing in the doorway, almost filling it with his squat and armored frame. He raised an eyebrow, and Beren made a show of looking past Jocasta's shoulder to peer over the edge of the windowless gap. "Coast looks clear," He remarked absently.

"That's because the beast approaches." Gunir said, and his mouth quirked in a half smile, though his eyes remained hard. "The lass knows a few tricks, aye? We were hoping ye would use them for a small distraction if the beast ever seems to have too much time on his hands. And as for ye, lad, it's time to get yer axe. We've slaying to do."

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

"Just hold on a minute!" A gruff voice growled, his voice rising above the whispers of the crowd. Out of the rough phalanx of town guard, a burly man in the only (relatively) well-made tabard stepped forward. His mustache was thick like his chest, and his eyes were small but fierce as they gazed at us, the veritable refugees. His eyes scanned Camilla, and unlike his men, he didn't oggle, merely looked suspiciously, before they moved to myself and dare I say, he seemed even less enthused to see me. I couldn't imagine why, I might not have my robes on me, but I did not carry a weapon save for the symbol of my office on the staff. He leveled his gaze. "Who are you and where do you come from?"

This seemed like an interrogation, and a very real means of keeping my lover and myself out of the village. Luckily I was used to such aggressive behavior.

"Why," I chuckled amicably, placing a hand on my chest and giving my most handsome smile. "I am but a humble priest of our lord Sigmar, coming to heal the sick and feed the poor. I have heard tell of how many of the afflicted live in this verdant land, and it shocked me to my very core. I, and my lovely assistant, have traveled many miles to grant absolution and blessings to your modest township."

"Gustav, we should let them in," one of the men said.

"Oh, and let a potential spy from Bradolf walk into our streets?" The lieutenant said. I cordoned off the information, but kept myself in 'character', holding up my free hand and closing my eyes, concentrating. The large soldier looked back our way. "What are you doing?"

"I sense a presence a... a daemon..." I said breathlessly.

Gasps erupted from the crowd, and though a few looked disbelieving, the potential of the prospect settled on their minds. Gustav tried to hide his stress with fury. He began to deny it, but I simply opened my eyes and strode past him with a purpose, my hand in the air, acting as a probe. He went and grabbed for my shoulder as the other men parted out of my way, but Camilla kicked him in the left shin, causing him to yelp and spin left. She slid to the right as soon as he did so, slipping beside me before he could do a full spin around to see who was responsible. Even the crossbowmen on the steps overlooking the walls watched us with curiosity and interest as we strode into town, the villagers before us stumbling out of the way, nearly dropping what baskets or cartons they carried.

"Worry not, it seems a small daemonic presence. Merely a curse," I declared, halting at a well with a bucket full of water and a ladle draped within. "I am quite certain Zinoca is as clean of heart as its drinking water." I scooped the ladle in the water and lifted it to my nose, sniffing. I gave a face and a muted 'eugh' and dropped it back in, not to be dissuaded. "Hrmmm, yes...yes I am getting closer."

The buildings were not tightly packed, with enough space between them for small gardens or refuse piles. Most of the architecture was a single story, with simple thatched roofs and only a window or two to speak of. As we drew deeper into the town, the crowd following us like ripples in a clear stream, the buildings grew larger and shops began to appear, along with larger residences. My eyes shifted back and forth, and once I found one that satisfied me, I frowned and stopped just before a two story home. There was even a stone base in its construction. I turned back to the crowd, my visage clouded with grim certainty.

"Here, this is where the daemon resides!" I announced, drawing more strangled gasps. One man in particular wailed, running out of the crowd. He wore a feathered cap and a well to-do jerkin, and seemed to be well manicured and groomed. He had a small brass ring with a signet on his left hand.

"Say it's not so, sir priest!" He cried with an imperial accent, worried.

"Who are you, my son?" I asked him, my eyes filled with concern but my smile kindly. I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I am Gregor von Ludendorf, the alderman. Is it truly as you say?" He asked, and before I could even say 'I am afraid so' he leaped to the next question. "What am I to do?"

Camilla bit her lip, and I nudged her with my shoulder to keep her face straight.

"I sense you have had bad luck recently, sir. Not everything in your life has gone as expected, yes? Yes, I see. It can be fixed quite easily, herr Ludendorf. Tonight my companion and I will stay the night, and I will perform the necessary rituals." I raised my hands and staff, as if a beam of light was expected to pierce the heavens and fall upon me at that very moment. "By morning, the foul presence will have been banished!" My voice carried over the crowd, and as Gustav watched with suspicion, I leaned in and whispered. "_{Oh, and for your tribute we require food and strong drink, preferably whiskey, and a comfortable place to sleep.}"

"Yes, yes of course!"

Caravan: An Episodic Fantasy with Worldbuilding! [Always Accepting]

Is there potentially room for another?

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

Part 2

Power Plays

---

I was tackled by the brutish greenskin, which gave me the misfortune of losing my breath just before I plunged into the frigid knee deep water. The clear blue sky above was suddenly obnubilated by a cascade of bubbles and foam, and a big green silhouette that leered down at me from his perch atop my prone form. I was not the most thick-bodied man, but I was not small either. I managed to kick the orc's legs out and have him slip into the river as well, bellowing another stream of bubbles as his warcry was drowned by the water. I swiftly rolled atop him, doing my best to keep him under, but I was too busy taking in a lungful of air. I was unfortunately thrust straight back into the water, and the big orc managed to get atop me and keep himself there. I couldn't hear his roar of victory other than a muffled shout, but I saw him grinning down at me with cruelty in his eyes.

The orc suddenly lurched, and bright drops of blood began to stain the river water as the greenskin slowly unhanded me and began to topple into the water. A lithe arm shot into the water and took me by the hand, and with some help from myself I was pulled out of the water, coughing up liquid as I tried to regain my breath once again. Camilla withdrew the blade of her rapier from the back of the orc's skull, cursing in Tilean.

"You have never been sexier," I told her, and she dazzled me with a smile. I grabbed my fallen staff, smiling tiredly.

"Yu alwees say that," she replied with her lovely accent, dark hair still amazingly styled despite the rough traveling the last week, not to mention the subsequent fight. I would have kissed her, but I spied something hulking past her shoulder, her keen eyes catching my own widening causing her to duck. I stepped past her, running my hand up the length of my staff to brace myself as the cleaver-like weapon that had been meant for Camilla's head was parried by the holy staff. I swiftly flipped my weapon, shoving the butt of the staff into the Orc's nose. It squealed like a stuck pig, but raising its head gave me the opening to thrust my staff into its exposed throat, collapsing it. It gave a pitifully small, hoarse cry as it topped into the river with its other two companions, the first dead from an oath granted to me by holy sigmar.

"Are you alright?" I asked, this time giving Camilla the helping hand. She took it gratefully, her hair glistening from dipping into the rushing river, but somehow it just enhanced her natural beauty.

"I wil haf to git thees rah-pi-air cleaned," She lamented.

"If we get through these mountains alive, it will be my treat." I offered, though my proposal was swiftly drowned out by a chorus of shouts from within the forest, screaming a phrase everyone in the old world knew portended doom.

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!"

There must have been dozens of voices, perhaps even over a hundred. Camilla and I spun to the treeline, watching like hunted deer. I grabbed Camilla's hand, entwining her fingers in my own as I pulled her along, moving the other way. "Let's get out of here, shall we?" I asked, and she needed little encouragement. Together the two of us fled eastward, past the river and into the opposite woodland that rose higher and higher as we raced into and under the shadowy canopy. If the old map was right, we were close to the pass that would lead us into the borderlands and out of these sigmar-forsaken mountains.

I nearly stumbled from a gnarled root, but my staff caught me and I raced on, Camilla running alongside me, bounding over obstacles with a dancer's grace. My legs soon felt like lead, and after a few minutes of running full sprint uphill, I felt like I had run hours. Having finished our food the day previously was doing no favors for my stamina either, and I prayed to holy sigmar we made it out of these mountains, if for nothing but Camilla's sake. I was little better than a lecherous thief, but she was certainly the most interesting and worthy woman I had ever met, and that was no small boast on my part.

More roars erupted, this time to our left and right. By the grace of the gods none were ahead of us, and though I thought every shadow was a greenskin lying in wait, I did nothing but run straight forward, thinking somehow we were falling into a trap. Even the ground leveling out seemed deceptive, as if the mountains themselves wanted me to relax my guard. But suddenly the canopy opened, and light sprang forth as the two of us leaped out of the woods into a small crevasse; a breach in the rock wall that towered over the forest. We launched ourselves through it and nearly lost our footing. It was Camilla's sure-footedness that kept me from rolling down the slope that fell just before our feet. We both breathed heavily and wearily, but to my relief, the cries had grown quieter and less frequent, and though the slope was steep, beyond another thicket or two of trees, we saw dozens of smoke pillars rising from a walled village a mere handful of miles away.

We had made it to the land of opportunity.

We had arrived at The Border Princes.

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

Galt felt strange. He wasn't sure if it was nostalgia. He could barely recall having dinner with his family, and what he did remember, it wasn't nearly this warm. His family all loved one another, of course, but there was a lot of bickering and childish fights or his overworked parents yelling. Here, he somehow felt more at home. Silke did the heavy lifting in that respect, but even her father and Vincent had a familiarity they shouldn't have. While it confused him, he wasn't about to complain and the thief decided not to dwell on it.

He also had to make a mental note not to pocket the expensive silverware. Not a good impression for a husband-to-be.

His eyes did widen a bit when the conversation started to veer toward Silke's marital status. It wouldn't be noticeable unless someone was looking intently at him. Fortunately, he gathered himself by the time Vincent's eyes were cast in his direction, probing him for any sign of guilt. He pretended not to notice, and smiled warmly at Silke when she offered more of the appetizers. He gave a breathless chuckle at her jest on Vincent's behalf, and plucked a few more from the tray she offered. Galt tried to focus on that singular moment, how nice it was sharing food and talking to Silke, how he would do most anything to keep it going, even announcing it in front of the table of various lords.

He took her cue, giving the barest hint of a nod and a look to Silke that spoke volumes. He breathed out through his nose, and before he even touched the appetizers he had been given, he turned to the head of the table. He cleared his throat gently.

"I've known Silke for what seems like quite a while, but truthfully it's only been a few months. But Lord Kasper, you have raised an incredible daughter." He began, and all the chewing in the room stopped. Lord Bryne watched with interest, brow raised. Vincent looked on intently, face unreadable save for a growing alarm, though whether mere anticipation or dread it was hard to gauge by Galt's estimation. "This entire world is new to me. I've done things I've had to do to survive, being a lowborn. I've lived in squalor and hunted for food on the street. And then I get thrust into the aristocracy by the grace of the Duke and our wise King..." Galt shook his head, trying to keep his thoughts from crumbling.

"One might think that would have been the greatest blessing one could get in this life. But I have to confess, even with all the wealth, food, and warm comforts, I would give it all away if I could spend just another moment with your daughter. She is the most intelligent, thoughtful, and lovely woman I've ever known, highborn or low. And that's why today, before our ride in the rain, I asked her to marry me, and she said yes..."

Lord Bryne was grinning, clearly trying to hold in his glee so as not to interrupt the drama. Vincent looked shocked, aghast at the pronouncement. He tried to speak but he merely managed to mumble something incomprehensible. Galt's gaze was transfixed on Lord Kasper's face, who studied Galt with an intensity, trying to decry any lie in his words. Galt had lied much in his life, but this was not one of those times. Finally, Galt glanced back at Silke, and gave her a shaky grin. He was nervous, but he had still be waiting for this moment for some time, even if most of it had been in his fantasies. He turned back to her father, head held high.

"I would ask for your blessing, my lord."

RPer Appreciation Thread

@Penny Best writing partner I've ever had, and a really good friend. Has great ideas, characters, and she can write circles around me. Here's hoping for another 10,000 1x1s in the future.

Darkhearts: A Forgotten Realms RP

Amal was often considered somewhat of a maverick, even in the guild. Most thieved because they could do nothing else, or because they were good at it, and others because they had the life thrust upon them. Amal was a product of all three, but most importantly, he enjoyed the life. The danger was addicting, and doing it for so many years had him take other parts of his life with such recklessness. He had been quite serious about the drink, though he doubted she would acquiesce even if she did happen to be on the surface. The reason she was above ground (or, was, before she was thrown down here with Amal) was a curiosity to him, but he decided they could talk more about it later.

He crouched beside her, giving a grin. "I do not know where you are from, but cities on the surface are not always open to all, even humans. Some leave beggars or thieves at the gates, and others require a tax or an endorsement by some lord or patron. And if I am traveling with you, their opinions of drow might extend to their companions as well." He shrugged as if it 'was what it was.'

"Last thing I remember was being on the deck of the ship, and there were pirate sails on the horizon. And some sort of flash..." He whispered, trying to recall what he could. "I had thought it lightning, but now that I think of it, the sky had been clear and blue. Perhaps it was a wizard's lightning, or maybe I was just hit from behind. I don't know. I guess I should thank Ibrandul I wasn't killed or maimed and just brought here."

They crept forward, following the goblin's directions. The cavern was roughly hewed, but easily traversable. They moved in near silence until they reached a fork in the tunnel, and Amal peered down the right tunnel, letting his eyes adjust from the now distant light of the brazier behind them. The air was slightly cooler now, and it irked him to guess the colder it got, the closer they were to freedom. He would need some thicker clothes.

He turned and gave her a roughly displayed hand sign that showed the coast was clear. In the near-darkness, her womanly silhouette looked fetching, almost sensual. He pushed the thought aside, the cool air brushing against his caramel skin bringing him back to reality.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

"Wow," Neil breathed as he checked the impressive readings of the planet. It was .93 the size of earth, giving it a very comfortable amount of gravity for the inhabitants, and one a terran or spacer could get used to very swiftly. Its continents were moderately sized and verdant, and its oceans were a cerulean blue and filled with abundant life. Coupled with that, the atmosphere was very slightly more oxygen rich than ancient terra, which made the inhabitants lively and the animals were marginally larger than they might be initially. Neil wished his own wartorn homeplanet was this lovely, and for the first time he began to contemplate that he might have had a rougher upbringing than Junebug.

Whatever happened after she left her homeworld, it had spat out a woman tougher than iron and colder than the void of space.

He was glad for it though. It made her into his girlfriend.

The Highlander approached in a meandering pace, receiving a hailing frequency about two million kilometers from the planet. Neil was surprised when it popped up. Normally they would be hailed fifty million kilos away, not two million. The planet must be used to relaxing when it came to defense.

"Identification number and ship callsign?" A sonorous man's voice chirped over the feed.

"ID number I593794, callsign Highlander. Here for refuel and resupply." Neil replied, lowering power from the sublight engines with a few choice button presses so they could cruise the next few hundred kilometers. "Requesting permission to dock."

"A-ffirmative! Just head in to dock 34D and enjoy your stay on Celandine, sir."

"Uh, thank you." Neil said, amused at the friendliness. Most places they docked they were speaking to either computers or overworked dock dispatchers. Taya laughed a bit, but she noticed Junebug's severity and furrowed her brow. Neil was none-the-wiser, eyes focused on the display. "Think we'll be able to go to the beach? I been meaning to work on my tan, and I haven't swam in water that wasn't chemically unstable in way too fucking long."

"The beaches here are nice," Junebug said in a tight tone, as if she were begrudgingly admitting to it. "But we shouldn't stay longer than it takes to get resupplied if we want to make that payday at Gliese 876. I'm not gonna take a quick holiday over a few million credits."

"Yeah, true. But I'm sure we'll have an afternoon. Your family won't take up too much of our time, right?"

How high can we count before a mod gets involved?

At The Edge of The World

"Erm, yes of course." The councilor said, reaching his hand out to the left to gain the attention of a tired woman wearing a stately, handsome dress. "Irma, please find the physicians. Tell them we have six men in need of care."

"Five. I appreciate it but I just need a bath too, and something to eat." I said, not wanting to be busied over when other men were in more dire need of care. I had a few extra cuts, but that was about the extent of it. I crossed my burly arms and nudged Emmaline, who tried to remain officious but gave me a small smile she was clearly trying to keep from blooming into a wider grin. Truth be told, I wanted to show Emmaline around the city, but I had never been here in the company of an aristocrat. Perhaps she would garner special treatment of some kind?

"Thank the saints for you sir," One of the protostates said, patting my shoulder.

"And to you my lady, we are at your service, if you would have us." Another, Titus, said to her. He tried to kneel but Emmaline swiftly put a stop to it. I was at his side immediately as well, keeping him from the ground. He might not have been able to rise again from his injuries.

"Just get better. If I need to, I shall call upon you Legionnaires." She remarked with all the surety and grace of a queen. Their faces lit up, and most of them looked to me as well, as if I too had stood beside her on the pronouncement. Granted, a good boyfriend supported his girl, but I did not feel I should take much credit. I just did what I could when I could. Emmaline was the amazing one, as far as I was concerned.

"And might I garner a name, my lady?" The councilor asked her, a quill now in his hand as he fingered a small piece of parchment.

---

Across the thoroughfaire, a few off-duty dock workers stood together and smoked pipes, one laughing like a uproariously in a strange, high pitched cadence that did not fit his burly frame. The smell of freshly cooked meat and an assortment of other savory foods wafted in the air from a collection of windows in every direction, and colorful birds sat upon clotheslines and on rooftops, letting out hoots and caws of every kind imaginable. A gang of freebooters with the bowling gaits of sailors and the scars of pirates passed by us as we absorbed all the sights and sound, a few of their eyes lingering on Emmaline. I had the urge to step between her and their leering eyes, but both Emmaline and I were tired and if I started a fight for a look, I think she would consider it more trouble than it was worth.

Honestly it was nice being back. I loved the smell of the water and the look of the city, and the people here were fun, though notably dangerous I had to remind myself. Still, the sun was shining brightly, and from another street we heard the delectable, rhythmic tunes of local music.

"Quite a city for being so far south." Emmaline commented, impressed.

"Yeah, it's all the trade and spices, and a lot of people are explorers or the descendants of them who made a living here. At least that's what my dad told me." I replied, feeling a bit nostalgic. Briefly I wished he was here. He had been the last time, introducing me to some of the lords and ladies, and the magistrate. Being a notable priest was not well paying in coin, but you did rub shoulders with some of the rich.

We passed through one of Darkwater's squares, a wide area with a central fountain of cascading clear water. A group of people congregated around it, some tossing in small copper coins to make wishes and others marveling at a brown-skinned aradian man and his pet leopard, the spotted beast yawning lazily. A few stepped back as the gesture revealed its long fangs and strange tongue. I always had a large urge to pet animals that allowed me, but Emmaline knew that and she prodded me forward gently. I gave her a guilty smile, and across the square we reached the inn we agreed to stay at temporarily while we awaited a summons to court.

The Stuck Pig was more of a restaurant and brewery than an inn, but there were a few rooms upstairs for special guests, and I knew the owner. Olly Gormson had been the owner of the establishment for almost as long as I had been alive, and he was an old friend of my father's. Though honestly, I was most excited for his pulled pork loaded potatoes. The thought alone had me salivating, but that could wait until after Emmaline and I had cleaned and gotten settled. We passed under the expansive awning, the outdoor tables under the shade in an open space in front of the building. Men and women enjoyed spiced drinks and spoke of local rumors, and once we passed inside, it restuarant was flavored like a northern tavern from the Sea of Swords. Kegs and notched, round tables, along with the timber walls gave the entire room a rich coloring of mahogany brown. I made a B line for the counter, seeing who I wanted to without hesitation.

The man there was balding, with chops of hair only above his ears. Below his nose, a wide grey mustache stretched like two arms spread out to their full extent. I knocked on the table surface, and he drew his head up from the orders he was reviewing. "Hey Olly, how's business?" I asked.

Olly blinked, peering at me for a moment until it clicked in his brain. "Beren! My, boy, you've grown! And I don't just mean taller," He said, making a show of flexing his arm. "I can't even believe it. Is your father here?"

"No, but I do have this..." I responded, handing a small slip of paper. Olly adjusted his spectacles and read the note carefully. He seemed equal parts amused and startled. Glasses clinked and someone called for more sweet sauce in a small span of seconds before he spoke.

"I assume this has to do with your lady friend?" He said, and with a nod, he gave Emmaline a kind smile. "We would treat nobles as directed, always. But if you're with Beren, we'll give you a bit extra on the house." He told her with a wink.