Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ralts Bloodthorne" data-source="post: 6286850" data-attributes="member: 6390">FrellaThe city has taken only moderate damage compared to what Frella has seen during the Crusade. The majority of the buildings are intact, the majority of the people who put down their weapons, did not fight against the Holy Empress's marines, or just plain hid are still alive, and hardly one in twelve buildings are on fire. While it is obvious to the Bishop that the city was built with make-do slapdash materials rather than the customarily accepted <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roman_concrete" target="_blank">caementicium</a> that the civilized world uses, the buildings do have their charm, made largely of reddish colored brick or black gleaming wood. A Low Marshall is overseeing his marines dumping the ill-gotten wealth of the pirates and barbarians in a large pile in the middle of the town square, making Frella smile. It is good to have seasoned and experienced men from the Third Crusade who know how to avoid the typical problems of distributing the ill-gotten wealth of the pirates to those more godly and deserving.The massive Shragma gleam in the sun, their oiled muscles playing smoothly under their thick hides (thankfully shaved so they look less like beasts), and their large tusks polished and gleaming, move the sedan easily through the city streets. The tuskininis being gathered up are being watched over carefully by Inquisitors to ensure that no man takes more than his due when the parcelling begins.The Shragma slowly climb the slight rise, where the palace is, passing by the stake where the body of the Lord Admiral still smoulders greasily, his soul, debased by heresy, having been carried to the heavens by purifying smoke and file. They move through the shattered gates of the palace, past the piles of pirate and heretic bodies stacked like so much cordwood. Several slaves are removing the heads of the dead pirates and heretics, carrying the heads to a large iron pot where holy oils are boiling to strip the flesh from the bone so that the skulls of the heretics can be properly displayed to warn others of the price of heresy.Once in the gate the young Lagoo again kneels down to allow Frella to climbs down comfortably and easily from the sedan."With your permission, your eminence, may I guide you to his most holy, the Lord Bishop?" The slave asks, keeping her eyes down and averted from Frella.SmytheThe axe whirls and takes off the ear of the Church soldier raising the musket to aim it toward Smythe. The man screams, dropping the musket (which goes off when it hits the floor, the bullet whipping across the room to put a hole in the mead barrel), and grabbing the side of his head as he sinks to the floor. One of the marines parries the musket with his saw backed blade, firing his pistol into the chest of the church soldier, who's leather proves no match for the close ranged shot. Another marine has drawn both pistols and fires them into the chest of one of the other church soldiers, dropping him to the floor. The one across from Smythe pushes aside a thrust bayonet with his beer mug and then drives the heel of his boot into the church soldier's crotch. The one with the missing ear just shakes his head, taking another long drink, the church soldier who was levelling the musket turning to aim at someone else. (Intimidate Check: Nat 20 for our one eared friend)Smythe raises the musket, seeing that four church soldiers have muskets readied, seven are grabbing for the muskets laying around, and one (an officer judging by the sash) jumps out the window. The Lagoo women are watching carefully, even as one matronly looking one rips off the hem of her skirt to tie off bullet wound in the other's arm.</blockquote>

Verification