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#2
04-10-2011, 09:17 AM
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37th year of the Malazan Empire The ships finally bounced off of the docks of Genabaris, mooring lines snapping taut. The second army had arrived, envigored by the presence of a few thousand new recruits, but tempered by the campaign in Quon Tali. Squads had been separated for the voyage in the interest of safety, but that hardly mattered for the remains of a few battered forces, cut down to one or two soldiers. 'You will be reassigned upon landing,' the pen pushers had said. Boarding planks were thrown down between the ship and the docks. "Get up here, yeh bellyachers, we're disembarkin'" shouted a voice from the deck. The bunks emptied as soldiers made their way to the deck, to be greeted by a mellow predawn light. On the deck, lines were forming. Soldiers were eager to get off the ship after a long voyage. In the line in front of one particular plank in the chaos, a peculiar collection of individuals shuffled their way forward. Prancy, Feverfew, Pricks, Kindle, Tranquility and Sweets. Each one of whom's ties to their previous squads had been broken in the heat of battle, or were altogether wide eyed, marking themselves as recruits. Not yet a squad, officially. In fact, not really knowing each other beyond what is common on large ship, it never the less opened a few eyes when with the sway of the boat on water, Kindle tripped, his kit bag spilling small clay balls all over the deck... Last edited by kelly; 04-10-2011 at 09:18 AM. 
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#3
04-10-2011, 01:54 PM
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Prancy stops dead. The big marine is heavily laden with a huge pack and all his fighting gear, amounting to over three hundred pounds of dead weight in the line. Unless there's a concerted push right away from behind, a pileup is sure to develop.
__________________A strong smell of ripe leather and stale sweat begins to settle around him again now that he's no longer moving. He speaks in accented but clear ? is there a list of languages somewhere that someone's found?Malazan. "Damn! Crazy! Sapper! You're going to kill us all. Stop jumping with yer fleas and pick that crap up!" He doesn't look like he's planning on helping. The grunt appears to be using all his energy on intimidate +4, or +7 if the 'strength for intimidate' variant rule is allowed herelooking mean, though a trickle of concern about imminent explosions is evident by the occasional flick of his eyes towards the clay balls that have rolled closest to him.
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#4
04-10-2011, 06:19 PM
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She laughs as Kindle's bag spills over the deck. Her voice is low with a Seti accent; the long roll of the plains accompanies every word, "Ah, yes, by all means blow it up." In the scramble to get away from the sapper's munitions, an opening appears. Using it, Feverfew slips forward and down the plank.
__________________Once off and free from the stink of mold, sweat and worse, Feverfew had to resist the urge to throw herself upon the earth's embrace; muddy and stamped deep by countless feet as it might be, it looked sweet. She can smell the rich soil, relieving the queasiness in her stomach. Her hand goes to her prize, a chunk of petrified wood worn smooth and strung on a yellow ribbon. It hangs low, warm under her armor and red linen. Clasping her totem, Feverfew touches her warren, just the lightest brush, and pulls a small vial from the beaded leather pouch at her throat. Scooping up a bit of earth from a miraculously untrod patch, she caps the vial and replaces it. Spirits of this ground, welcome me. She is not so naive to think that they will but with a bit of their flesh in her grasp, they cannot oppose her so strongly. Stepping into line, Feverfew begins to hum. Last edited by jessylynn; 04-10-2011 at 06:33 PM.
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#5
04-10-2011, 08:51 PM
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Jamil swore under his breath. This god-damned sea had had him half sick and half scared out of his wits for most of the voyage. And now this unnatural waterbeast was trying to drown him even as he was finally making his getaway.
__________________He saw the clay balls spill out of his kit, and lay very still on the deck for a moment. He then heard Prancy's usual shouting, and picked himself up. He licked his lips and bent down to grab a banger that had not rolled far. He stood still momentarily without reacting to Prancy. The pictures in the privacy of his mind showed how one of the poppers had hit a nail while dropping, and sent the whole ship up in one beautiful pyre of flames and exploding water, with black shapes shrieking, being thrown about or flailing their arms while trying to get off. He sighed, a smile on his lips for a moment, before a slight slinger of the ship brought him back to reality. He lightly tossed the banger in the air. He turned around to look at Prancy, without meeting the Heavy's eyes, and then started to pick up the other munition pieces. Hearing the Seti mages words, Kindle just uttered a little "Don't tempt me." Last edited by Finch; 04-10-2011 at 08:52 PM.
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#6
04-10-2011, 10:41 PM
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“What the hell is going on up there? Get your butts moving or I’ll see how well some of you recruits can swim.” Sweets tries to see around the broad back of the Heavy standing in from of him, but it’s no luck. The muscled Barghast is just too large and completely blocks any view of the commotion up ahead. “Hell if you can’t even successfully get off this damn boat, by my hairy balls, what good do you think you can possibly be to the Marines?”
__________________The combat veteran snorts in disgust at this newest crop of recruits with which he’s been saddled. His scarred fingers rub across the grizzled stubble covering his jaw and chin trying to vent some of his frustration before he does something ugly. His one good eye darts around the harbor checking the shadows with the stare of a man who has seen too much death or perhaps even worse. Once again staring at the broad back of the Barghast in front of him, Sweets lets a growl of impatience escape from between his lips. “Hey big guy, put your head down and get us a clear path off of this stinkn’ rat trap.” † Last edited by Chrystrom; 04-10-2011 at 10:43 PM.
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#7
04-11-2011, 12:14 AM
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Pricks looks about at the harbor mouth, only impressed by the number of troops disembarking from various ships. Pricks then joins a line to leave the boat, and just so happens to be behind the clumsy sapper who drops his munitions to the deck. "Good going lad, you didn't blow us up yet. I suppose you'd expect me to fix you up after blowing yerself up all the same." Having had some experience with the devices, Pricks knew that if it didn't explode right away, one was in little danger unless you where stupid enough to step on dropped explosives.
__________________Hearing the one-eyed-vet's curses from behind him, Pricks just lets it past him, knowing that he would likely have a chance to "heal" the rude man at some point. Pricks then waits patiently to get off of the tub of a boat. Last edited by Keairan; 04-11-2011 at 02:58 AM.
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#8
04-11-2011, 04:38 PM
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As the munitions cleared from the deck, the push from the Barghast's back grew stronger, soldiers eager to onto solid land.
__________________The slow moving mass of soldiers around Feverfew did not allow for fast travel. The reason was readily apparent; up ahead, a group of men holding wax tablets was making notes of every soldier who passed, recording various information. Already, the stacks of tablets were enormous, and over half of the fleet had yet to dock. The sun exposed itself from behind a cloud, unleashing a wave of heat over the muddy ground. Last edited by kelly; 04-11-2011 at 05:10 PM.
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#9
04-12-2011, 06:52 PM
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As the press of soldier’s in front of him begins once again to slowly creep forward, Sweet’s temper cools back down. Hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait. I swear I’ve spent three quarters of my life standing in some line waiting for something ever since I joined the Marines.
__________________The sun splits the dreary cloud cover that had been hiding it all day causing the shadows to darken and deepen. If anything with the coming of the sun, Sweet’s one good eye begins to more quickly shift from shadow to shadow peering into them like a man searching for an ambush. Reaching out to the vast back still in front of him, the grizzled soldier prods the Barghast’s shoulder. “Hey big guy, did you see something moving over there in the mouth of that alley? I would have sworn…no never mind. Of course there’s nothing there just the shadows tricking my eye. Yes, that’s it I am sure of it. So any way, know what squad you’re gettin’ assign to?” †
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#10
04-12-2011, 11:24 PM
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The Barghast blinks. "Alley?" He turns his head slowly to observe the shore. "Dunno." Does he not understand what an alley is? Or just not see it? Or just not care?
__________________Or was that second part about the squad? Suddenly, something shifts beneath the big man's beard, jiggling bone and feather fetishes about. It might be a smile. It apparently has nothing to do with shadowy alleys. Prancy turns towards the clumsy sapper, who has by now recovered most of his supplies. "Fumbles, friend, stop yer juggling 'til we're ashore. Hood'll have enough opportunities without you sinkin' the ship before we're even off." He then turns back to Sweets and whispers in a conspiratorial whisper, "See that smile? Crazier than a ratter in heat, that one is. Mark my words. Last 3 readings in a row, he pulls the Fool...."
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#11
04-13-2011, 01:35 AM
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Feverfew hums softly to herself, shifting from foot to foot as she waits. The grumbles around her make her smile. Her pack is light enough, the sun is out and she's no longer feeling like spewing up her guts aboard that ship. "It could be worse." She murmurs and a cloud passes overhead, mimicing her mood. It soon will be.
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#13
04-13-2011, 03:24 AM
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Feverfew overhears and chuckles. "At least you aren't cursed out whenever something goes awry." She shakes her head, oiled hair barely moving. The streaks of paint on her temples have begun to run with her sweat, sending tendrils of red and yellow down towards her chin. "They won't blame you, healer, they'll blame me."
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