Grey Knight

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  1. "Dra dit peppern gror," Bulveye growled. "The day I am a distraction for a man with a popgun is the day I go to helsikken." He spat to the side. "But the sound, I can provide." He grabbed his storm bolter- a massive, two-barreled pit bull of a gun- from where it was mag-locked to his thigh. The roar of the bolter would deafen everyone in the cave. For the beast, it would be much worse.
  2. The boy smelled... fine. Barely a hint of the awful stench that had hit Bulveye just seconds before. The only thing special was a hint of floral water on him, and even that was weeks old. The fop probably bathed in the stuff. Which meant that the parasite wasn't on Rig. Bulveye looked toward the pool, mind racing. He might be old, but even a pup couldn't have missed a scent that strong. So the danger had to have come from something else, something that the boy had once possessed. The clothes. The boy had been wearing a suit and trousers before he'd changed. What had he done with them? They weren't by the pool anymore. They weren't by the pool anymore. "The boy's clothes," Bulveye said. "The finery he had on before. They're gone. If that smell was coming from them..." @ZincAboutIt @TrailRunnin
  3. Thank you for being my first friend on the Shard, Mac, and thank you for all the memories. May you find success in the real world.
  4. "The fop," Bulveye growled. "He smells wrong. Like spilled guts and birth fluids. There's something on him, something alive, but I can't tell what. Maybe a parasite." @ZincAboutIt @TrailRunnin
  5. Bulveye stared around the cavern. This was... beautiful. Like Fenris. There was no other way to describe it. The air was stale and scentless- unlike the oily, rich smell of the Worldsea- but the glowing stalactite at the center could have come right from the underwater caves of Fenris's pole. It was alone, a single beacon circled by things prowling in the dark. A foul stench suddenly hit Bulveye's nose, interrupting his memories. He looked down and saw a young male standing by Corette under the stalactite chandelier. His clothes were obviously well-made, but even from a distance Bulveye could smell the rot and filth seeping through them. And... something else? Bulveye leaped off the platform and landed by the Director with a loud crunch, the sound echoing through the cave, and unlimbered his ax. The stalactite shivered, and patches went dark as the moss pulled itself inside the rock structure. "Director," he said, nodding towards the newcomer. "I think we have a problem." @ZincAboutIt @TrailRunnin
  6. "The city?" Bulveye asked with a snort. "Unimpressive. Despite the fact it seems to have been built at the center of the world's battegrounds, there's not even a proper wall. Non-natives enjoy all the wealth and pleasures of the city, while everyone else scrabbles for firewood outside. The infrastructure is a mess, the poor are ignored and mistreated, and the ruling government is tainted by maleficarum." He spit to the side. The stone sizzled where it splashed. "All in all," he said, "it's no different from every other world I've had the pleasure of seeing. Now, hive-worlds, those are real..." He trailed off, sniffing. Fear-scent was in the air. Lots of it, and from the woman he had been just talking to. He turned towards the hole in the ground, narrowing his eyes. @AonEne @ZincAboutIt
  7. "Not 'Iron Island'," he said, glancing back at her. "It is properly called the Isle of the Iron Masters." Bulveye shrugged. "And Fenris, my home, is far, far from here. Practically in another galaxy. But, as your eyes are frozen, your ignorance can be forgiven." Fenris. The Fang. Even after two decades of separation, Bulveye still missed his home. The intensity of that longing surprised him. @ZincAboutIt
  8. "My blood runs hot," Bulveye said, "and my blade is sharp. A Seawolf could not ask for more." He hefted his axe, Morkai, onto his shoulder, and smiled at the small human. "I am Bulveye," he said. "I am called Ghost-stalker and tyrant-killer, and I made my first kill on the shores of the Iron Island. I have fought xenos and heretics alike for three centuries, and been a Wolf Guard for one more. My saga is legend, and my deeds are worthy of Russ himself." He paused, waiting for her reply. @AonEne
  9. "Hah! The day I get lost in a simple cave," Bulveye said, "is the day I kill myself and join Russ on his Great Hunt!" He grinned at Deb. "Keep your tracker, Director. Save it for those who need it." He turned away, sniffing the air. Though his nose wasn't what it used to be, his senses were still far beyond any mortal's. The air around Deb was tinged with excitement, mingled with a little fear. That was recent- probably from his dramatic entrance. There was another hint of fear-scent, slightly older, coming from a woman farther down the slope. With a loud grind of servo-gears, Bulveye lumbered over to her. She was fingering a yellow object and frowning at it. "Heil ok sæl," he said over her shoulder. "How are you, stranger, on this fine day?" @AonEne
  10. Bulveye, stalker of tyrants and slayer of darkness, jumped over the crater's edge with a wild roar. He slammed into the ground with a loud crack as the stone shattered beneath him. He kept pumping his legs, turning a near-fall into a loping gait that sent him barreling down the slope. He grinned, exulting in the rush of the wind and the sense of momentum. Blood of Broddja, but it felt good to run again, even if he was separated from his pack. Sparks flew from Bulveye's feet as he ground the stone beneath him, sliding to a halt. He panted, looking at Director Stancel with a grin. "Heil ok sæl, Director," he said. "Have I missed the party?" @ZincAboutIt
  11. Alright. Let's try this one again, shall we? @I think I am here. @MacThorstenson
  12. I would like my character's point costs looked at, please. How much would he be?