#flintlock fortress

[dxppercxdxver]

*tomska voice* FLINTLOCK FORTRESS IS BACK BABEYYYYYYY. anyway uh. clapping pots and pans together You People Like Sniper/Spy? Come Get Your Sniper/Spy

[chiropteracupola]

I would LOVE to hear about assorted flintlock fortress and kissing the homies 2: bro hookup

FLINTLOCK FORTRESSSSSS!! because we haven't talked about this one in a while I shall give it a reintroduction -- this is @dxppercxdxver's and my yearslong project of putting the team fortress men in the 1770s-1790s and seeing what they do. so far this has included such fun activities such as 'we give everyone smallpox.' anyway here's our engineer heading north in search of his favorite seditious pamphleteer.

“I can fix that, if you’ll give me a hand.” “Think you can? Well, have at it, then,” said the carter, and Daniel Conagher knelt in the rutted road and put his hand to the stuck wheel. Not a broken axle, or a spoke put awry, but something in the mechanism gone wrong, something splintered and needing replacement. That was well enough — Daniel had mended wagons before, and with the carter there to be another hand to him, they two were hauling up the wagon from the ditch where it had lain slanted. “Turnabout’s fair play,” said the carter, swiping away sweat from beneath his hat. “I can’t pay you, but I can take you as far as Wilmington, if you’re going north by this road.” And he stretched out his hand to Daniel, and Daniel took it, and sat beside the carter on the bench as the road rolled on through forest and fen and farmland, up toward the city. Wilmington was a fine fair city, and Daniel found work soon enough, as clever young men often do in port towns. But the docks smelled of turpentine, barrels upon barrels of it, and with every surface he touched, his hand grew sticky with pitch and his clothing stained with tar. Besides, there was no work of the kind he wanted to do — no small things he might tinker and fiddle with, no type to set and no wheels to grease. At least there were the pamphlets, still — always with the little black unicorn stamped above the title, and always written in a way that made him want to jump up, and run, run, down the line of every word, until he found who it was at the end. It would be a long road yet before Daniel Conagher knew who had set the type and who had held the pen.

kissing the homies 2 is a sequel to a sharpe fic I've not yet finished, the entirety of which is likely going to be harris and cooper having bad mutually unsatisfying sex. and also harris wearing a dress.

“Well, if you wish it,” said Harris, a crooked smirk beginning to play about his mouth, and he took a deep drink from the flask still in his hand before he shoved it into Cooper’s hands. It was so sudden a movement that Cooper nearly dropped it, and would have wasted the rather soured rum for his clumsiness, if it were not for Perkins reaching to steady him. But he was looking up again, not paying attention to anything other than the sight of Harris with his hands all full of skirt, so that his hems were raised nearly to his knees.

[gwen-the-assassin]

Writing Charles Lee can be so funny, cause I hate him so much and I can show how much of a straight up bastard he is. Here is an insert below of my next chapter I am working on. He is having an inner monologue moment here, where he is justifying why he doesn't like my OC.

------Charles Lee felt the impotent sting of annoyance as he rode his horse through the crowd. After just leaving a meeting with Thomas Hickey as well as William Johnson. Thomas Hickey had just arrived in the city to help find the damn Precursor box, but the arrogance and unseriousness of that man always beguiled Lee. His frustration wasn’t just with Hickey’s blazon incompetence at times, but with the fact they were attempting to babysit a teenage girl.

He steered his horse through the crowded street, weaving around animals and pedestrians. The Templar’s mind reflecting on the frustrated by how the girl had slipped away. The sheer embarrassment of Catherine Cormac getting past him stung, the same child he once saw stick her fingers up her nose, accompanied by a marble.

The memory felt an twitch of annoyance, he felt that Catherine Cormac had always been in the way. In one shape, or forum.

During the seven year’s war, when the templars goals of securing the artifact, as well as finishing Achilles brotherhood. The moment he had see that unorganized tiffed of red hair coming from an toddler, accompany by her mother, Rose Cormac. From his point of view, it had brought an sense of disarray to have a toddler, and mother in Fort Arsenal. Granted, they were safer in the fortress then other location.

Master Kenway saw to that while Shay Cormac had gone out to do the Order’s bidding.

He didn’t dislike children in general; he just couldn’t stand that particular child for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the crying, the way she clung to her mother’s skirts, or the fact that she had once interrupted a meeting—one that Lee had borne witness to—where Shay Cormac, completely unfazed, held the toddler on his hip while delivering his debrief on the Assassins. The child made obnoxious, slobbering noises, yet Haytham, unlike Lee, was composed enough to tolerate such a disruption during an important meeting. The Grand Master even showed a hint of affection toward the toddler, making a remark about her

Children are meant to be neither seen nor heard when it comes to the affairs of adults, especially when it concerns important matters of the Templar Order.

Yet, seeing Miss Cormac all grown up at the Green Dragon was a stark contrast to the toddler she once was. Now a young woman, she was properly dressed in skirts, a blue cloak, and a dark green scarf draped over her shoulders. A ribbon adorned her hair, which cascaded down her back, almost emphasizing the innocence she still possessed. He, of course, was polite to the girl—she seemed to have some manners, at least.

He might have been able to tolerate her more if he had met her like this—no longer a sniveling child but a proper young woman. Yet, despite his feigned politeness during their initial reunion, there was something about her that he simply could not stand.

Deep down, perhaps it had always been about her mother, Rose Cormac. The Cormacs’ past as Assassins was not easily forgotten. While he regarded Captain Shay Cormac as a man who had made profound contributions to the Templars, his wife was another matter entirely.

Seeing Mrs. Rose Cormac, formerly known as Rose O’Brian, was not their first encounter. He remembered her well, a much younger woman who had once tried, and failed, to kill him. His flintlock had saved his life that day, the bullet tearing through her shoulder.

It was strange to see his would-be killer in such a familiar light, but for the sake of decorum, neither of them ever spoke of it. And yet, one does not simply forget an attempt on their life.

The irony was not lost on him, the very same gun that had commanded a British firing squad to execute her was the one he had once used to shoot Mrs. Cormac years prior. There was no denying that her death had been his doing, though it had never been personal. Or so he told himself. Yet, somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, an unsettling thought took hold, one he dared not acknowledge. Had it brought him satisfaction?

Charles Lee would never speak the words lingering on his tongue. Especially with the youngest Cormac out there.

The girl had every right to grieve her mother’s death, but surely there was a better way to handle the situation than running wild across Massachusetts. Acting unhinged in the streets of Boston. Now that Shay Patrick Cormac had returned, Lee hoped the man would instill some discipline into his daughter. If he were her father, he would have long since put her in her place.

The thought of a belt briefly crossed his mind.

At this rate, it might be beneficial to marry her off to a man with a firm fist, someone who would keep her in line. A thought shifted in his mind, erasing what he thought about her being lady like in the tavern and remembered how he saw her at the Green Dragon, almost getting into a bar fight, and how she presented herself….so unladylike. ------ Charles Lee ladies and Gentleman, hater of small children. Don't mind it though, I am still working on it. I am trying to write irrationally thinking here.

[onesentencemusings]

Mirrorverse Character Concept - Cutler Beckett

Flavor Text: The Commanding Corpse

Appearance: Tri-corner hat slightly burned with a few claw marks, powdered curled white wig, Face half-burned off revealing part of his skull, glowing green dots for eyes, bright red officer outfit. Dark blue cape with glowing rune patterns on the back.

Class: Range

Play style: Produces Turrets

Special Trait: Currency is Currency - For every 100k gold the player has, Beckett starts an encounter with an attack buff stacking up to 10.

Ultimate: All Hands! - Beckett takes out his flintlock and shoots it in the air. A skeleton in period clothing appears knelling with a musket and auto-fires at the closest enemy for the rest of the round. The skeleton turrets cannot receive buff or debuffs, do not move and have limited health.

Bio: As cold in undeath as he was in life, stately Lord Beckett dominates the battle field with ruthless precision. With a literal skeleton crew at his command, and a debt he can't afford to not repay, there is nothing Beckett will not do to get whatever HE wants.

Story Relevance: Coming from his world with nothing but the clothes on his back, a flintlock and his cutlass, Beckett was nearly lost to the Sand Sea before the Ruler of Crossroad Canyon found and save him, bringing him to the only paradise the land had to offer. However, Beckett soon took ire with the Ruler's laid-back, bare necessities-focused approach to ruling and challenged the woman for control.

Beckett was beaten badly by the Ruler's magic, nearly even dying at her hands, but she instead revived him into an undead state that requires her personal magic to be sustained. He was then banished to the outskirts of the known territory, charged with managing the supply ships to and from the Canyon, under threat that should he be found non-compliant, the Ruler would not recast her revival spell and Beckett would eventually die for good.

This failure, much to Beckett's displeasure, serves only to strengthen the Ruler's hold on the Canyon; proving to the heroes she can protect them and showing the villains she can and will fight to the death for control, leaving him with no one to ally with in his silent war against the woman.

But not all was hopeless for Beckett; the very spell that now sustains him also partially revived the dead around him, creating a mindless army of skeletons that obeyed him without question, just like the Fractured. Although his army would be useless against the Ruler and her allies, he is still one of the biggest threats of the Sand Sea, should one cross his path.

The Guardians find a drifting island with a large ship yard and land to fix their stolen vessel, which by now had taken several beatings from wandering Fractured ships. Trying to find people willing to bargain with them, the Guardians fight undead from the Shipyard to a mighty fortress on the top of the hill.

When they get far enough to find Beckett, he welcomes them in like friends, claiming he thought his skeletons were fighting Fractured, not real people. He happily agrees to help the Guardians fight the Ruler but when he talks about using the Fractured Mirror to seize power in other worlds, the Guardians refuse, wanting to just stop the Fractured, not use them to rule themselves.

Beckett then fights and when he loses, he sails back to the Canyon to warn the Ruler, gaining some small amount of her favor and getting his revival spell reinvigorated.

[ao3feed-tf2ships]

volta (take him by the teeth)

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/61510375

by mxpauling

Pursing his lips, Julien steadily picked his way toward a foyer-esque room, if only to attempt—perhaps in vain—to regain his bearings, but as he walked, he became distinctly aware of the whisper-faint echo of bootheels on the boards. He pressed on, but his fingers danced across the handle of his knife, now, just in case.

 the spy discovers he is no longer alone

Words: 2594, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of Flintlock Fortress

Fandoms: Team Fortress 2

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Spy (Team Fortress 2)

Relationships: Sniper/Spy (Team Fortress 2)

Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - 18th century, American Revolution, Alternate Universe - American Revolution, what does that mean, Angst, no plot only vibesssssss, also, Dubious Consent, Don't Worry About It, lads what does it mean when your nemesis/coworker/certified little freak, follows you around a spooky ass house late at night, surely only good things

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/61510375

[redeemers-and-dragons]

Redeemers: Greenest in Flames Part 1

Narration: The streets of Greenest were cast in dim light by the half-moon above, choked in smoke as the town burned. Bursting forth from an alley, three children quickly help a limping man across the street to the safety of shadows. Their mother follows close behind them with a blood spattered round shield and a broken spear, she whirls around and faces the direction from which they came. Eight kobolds stream out of the alley on the family’s heel and fan out around the peasant woman, whose hand shakes as she holds the jagged pole against the creatures.

Child #1: Mama!

Linan: *Doesn’t take her eyes off the kobolds who slowly encroach on her with blades and spears.* Don’t look back! Take your father and go! *Her eyes welled up with tears.* I-I won’t let you have them!

The Kobolds: *They’re scaled reptile lips stretch with malicious grins as they edge each other on to strike the woman first. Just as one looked like he was going to charge he suddenly falls flat onto the ground with a crossbow bolt in the back of his head.*

May: *Looks down on the group from a rooftop as she pulls back the string on her heavy crossbow.* Cowards…

The Kobolds: *Look at the dead kobold on the ground before something large and hairy bulldozes pass straight through them, sending half of them flying*

Adam: *Screeches to a halt and plucks the kobold hanging onto dear life on one of his horns. Adam then proceeds to crush the creature’s rib cage in one hand like a yogurt tube.*

Kobold: *Tries chucking a javelin at Adam.*

Neon: *She intercepts the javelin with her nunchaku, sending it soaring upwards, before executing a swift spinning kick that propels the javelin directly into the kobold's chest.* Finally! Some ass to kick!

Cinder: *Strolls up the street and headshots a kobold with a firebolt spell.* Barely even a warm up, really.

Kobolds: *Start panicking when a loud thunderclap sounds, and two kobolds are sent flying through a store front window.*

Reese: *Blows arcane smoke from her magic flintlock pistol. Her eyes glint with mischief only a goblin could.*

Kobold Looter: *Quickly starts running with a heavy sack of stolen treasure before bumping into one of his squad members who suddenly slays him with a dagger.*

Neo: *Drops her magical kobold disguise and cleans off her dagger before she starts sifting through the loot sack.*

Last Kobold: *Drops his weapon and starts running for his life.*

Cinder: Looks like one got away.

Jaune: *Rounds the corner trying to find his party.* Guys? Where’d you go?

Last Kobold: *Hits his shield like a brick wall and is immediately knocked out*

Jaune: *Stumbles.* S-Sorry! Are you-? Oh. *Pokes the kobold with his foot before looking up* There you are.

Neon: Good catch, Blondie.

Adam: We saved these civilian’s lives. The quest is complete.

Reese: Yeah, can I go home now?

Linan: *Still holding her broken spear out before her knees buckle, staring at the party of adventurers with wide eyes. Her family rushes to her side, enveloping her in a tight embrace. Tears stream down her cheeks as she looks up at the group of adventurers who had just saved their lives.* Th-Thankyou. We owe you everything.

Cinder: How much is “everything,” exactly?

Party: *Stares at Cinder*

Cinder: What? I was joking, obviously. It’s called “Dark Humor.” Lighten up.

Jaune: *Notices the wounded man and rushes to his side.* Hold still, sir. I can help you. *He holds out his palms and they start to glow, magically healing the wounds with holy healing.*

Children: *Stare on in wonder*

Jaune: *Smiles gently* There, that should be better. Do you all have a safe place to stay until this is over?

Linan: W-We were trying to make it to the keep. It’s the only safe place left in town.

May: *Hops down from the rooftops.* It doesn’t seem that the raiders have established an effective cordon around the fortress yet. If we’re quick and lucky, we can get there before it’s too unsafe.

Jaune: *Nods and stands* Then that’s where we’re heading. *Looks to the civilians* Are all of you good for traveling?

Narration: Linan and her husband, Cuth, both nod and each pick up one of their children, leaving Jaune to pick up the third. The party heads out towards the keep, doing their best to keep a low profile and quickly dispatching any invader that stumbles upon them. By the time they party makes it near the open fields surrounding the keep, they manage to pick up another ten civilians.

At the heart of Greenest, towering stone walls of the fortress known as Greenest Keep stand as a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. The front gates stand wide open for any fleeing peasants fleeing the onslaught. Stationed guards usher refugees in as archers line the ramparts to rain down on any enemies that get to close. The main road between the Party and the Keep is guarded by a platoon of about thirty enemies, a mix of kobolds and mercenaries seemingly being directed by strangely dressed men and women in dark purple garbs and colorful reptilian masks.

Reese: *Whistles* Well shit, that’s a problem.

Adam: I think we can take them. They haven’t impressed me with a good fight so far.

Neon: With all these people with us? Our best chance is to sneak around.

May: It’s an open field around that fortress. The second we make a run for it those raiders will be on our tail. We need a distraction.

Cinder: Creating a distraction could take too long. Whatever we’re doing, we better do it quick before even more enemies surround the keep.

The Party: *Look at Jaune.*

Jaune: …What?

Neo: *Gestures for him to speak up.*

Jaune: You’re asking me what we should do?!

Neon: Yeah, aren’t you, like, our boss or something?

Cinder: You’re the only one here who technically has any real authority.

Reese: So what’s the plan?

Jaune: *A single sweatdrop falls along his face as he scans over his Party and looks over to the scared civilians with them. He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and takes careful consideration of the situation.* Alright then. I think we should…

[red-eldritch-warlock]

✦ Basic Oc info:

Name: Eberwolf Saskia

Class: The Warlock, Support class mercenary

Nicknames: Sorcerer, Mage, Wolf

Age: 25(?) [To be determined, rumoured to be immortal]

Height: 6’4

Birthplace: Graz, Austria

Gender/pronouns: Trans male, He/Him

Personality: socially awkward, solitary, reserved, neurotic, work oriented, cynical, easily flustered

Hobbies: palmistry, reading, collecting records, bookkeeping

Loadout: spellbook, sacrificial dagger, flintlock pistol

The lore(W.I.P)

Other stuff(W.I.P)

✦ Tags:

#Eldritch Invocations - Warlock post

#A gift from my patron- Warlock reblogs

#Whispers from the void - Answering asks

#Warlock antics - Rp starters

#Eldritch blast - Rp tag

#Eberwolf lore - lore tag

#Stag posting - mod posts

#Stag found this - mod reblogs

#Stag answers - mod asks

#Stags silly scribbles - Mod art / writings

Any sensitive topics will be tagged accordingly

!!Ooc and character description below the cut!!

✦ Blog info:

Warlock is an oc for team fortress two :)

I took inspiration from both dungeons and dragons warlocks and magic users, and @the-jack-class (specifically serpie and a bit of jasper) for this oc, and they deserve the credit(serpentine my belerpentine teehee)

I would like to keep this blog to be strictly 16+ with little NSFW. I have pretty bad anxiety, and receiving incredibly suggestive asks will most likely make that spike, and I don’t want to stress over my blog, this is for fun! Feel free to flirt and whatnot with Warlock, but anything i deem too far will get deleted or blocked based on severity.

i would prefer if minors did not interact, this blog may have sensitive topics discussed. or at the very least they do not interact with posts discussing said topics.

Mod is a self shipper, and is open to multishipping!

Mod uses he/him pronouns, and you can refer to me as Stag!!

Mod follows from @transfrogwithcoolsocks

Mod has insane social anxiety so i apologise if i come off as awkward or rude (i’m just a little guy)

Mod has the worst memory known to mankind, so if i send multiple asks it is because i forgot that i already sent one(i am sorrgy)

Any photos i use in posts will be found on Pinterest.

My other RP blogs are: @canineriot-fenrir @meet-the-trapper-tf2 @redhead-string-shredder @crutches-n-stitches @ultimate-exorcist-chyrche @darling-idol-hoshiko @dutch-bunny-rabbit @stupid-fishbait-moray @aussie-menace-dingo @kerosene-n-gasoline @lt-morse @hurricane-tsunemasu

✦ Rp info:

Rp will look like this:

[Actions and such go here]

“Talking will be like this”

✦ Physical description of Warlock:

Warlock is 6’4 with a lithe and lean physique, with toned arms and shoulders, slim waist and thighs and a generally lanky frame.

His hair is jet black and very curly, and is cut to shoulder length, usually tied back when fighting.

Warlock has fairly androgynous features, a sharp jaw, tired eyes, roman nose, sickly and pasty skin and bright violet eyes. He has some slightly unkempt stubble on his chin, and deep set eye bags. He also wears half moon glasses, and on occasion red tinted round shades.

His usual attire is a dark red velvet button up shirt with bell sleeves, a black leather corset, black flared jeans with a book holster on one thigh, heeled ankle boots and white satin gloves. He also wears a pocket watch necklace that has an octopus engraved onto it.

Mod is not the best with remembering to respond so I apologise if I forget about a thread or do not respond to an ask very quickly.

✦ Interact list:

Please do interact:

Tf2 Rp blogs

Rp blogs in general

Anons

Tf2 ocs

Other ocs(from any fandom!)

Nice people

Do not interact:

Basic DNI

Pedophiles

Transphobes/homophobes

Racists

Creeps

Hai friends :3 (sorry for the tags, i love y’all!!!)

@eagle-head-charge @wastelandtherapist @conductor-on-grn @sly-daffodils @red-demo-tf2 @rengineer @thenumberonerascal @averagebioweaponslover @meet-the-civilians @meet-the-net @tf2-nurse-is-dreaming

[rea-grimm]

Dragon of Masyaf 2

warnings: blood and injury

Your training and various exercises sometimes took place outside the fortress and outside the city itself. Together with Altair, you went to the desert, where a small enemy camp was supposed to be located.

The plan was to stay the night in the desert, reconnoitre the enemy's territory and get the flag from there, which was located in the very centre on high ground. After that, you were scheduled to go to Jerusalem, where the Grandmaster was supposed to have a meeting with the Rafiq there.

You had travelled some distance from Masyaf when the enemy camp that Altair spoke of appeared in front of you. You camped not far from it and it was up to you to get the necessary information. 

Altair often taught you about the mistakes of his past, so he made sure that you used your intuition, but that you found out the necessary and correct information.

When evening came it was up to you to prepare the fire. You got wood and everything, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get the fire going. You've probably tried all possible methods. Using sticks, stones... Nothing. You were slowly running out of patience.

“I'll do it,” Altair said after a while of you competing with the flintlocks. You nodded in agreement and handed him the rocks. Altair slammed them together a few times and you thought you didn't see any spark.

But he crouched down to the hearth and began to blow into it. You watched curiously as you noticed what seemed to be a flame coming out of his mouth. Suddenly, smoke appeared from the hearth and the fire was on. You couldn't believe your eyes.

“Thank you, Master,” you finally said, swallowing your other questions. How? What it was? Etc. He taught you to question, but right now you were questioning your eyesight.

"You're welcome. And Y/N? Just call me Altair," he said and you felt like his eyes were shining gold. But you attributed that to the illusion created by the flames.

You wanted to execute the infiltration plan at dawn when the guards were changing. You got in without any problems without anyone seeing you. You got to the flag and you had the impression that it was suspiciously easy.

Your suspicions were justified because as soon as you touched the flag, an arrow pierced your shoulder. You immediately pulled back and focused on the direction the arrow had come from. You noticed the archers. Looking around you found yourself surrounded. So they waited for you. It was a trap and you fell into it.

You broke the arrow so it wouldn't get in your way and even with the flag in hand you ran away. Now that you've had it, you're not going to leave it there. You jumped off the lookout tower and ran away. 

You ran around the tents so they wouldn't see you, but when you got to the gate they were already waiting for you. They've completely blocked your path.

You drew your sword in your good hand and were thankful that you were learning to fight with both hands, just in case. Enemies rushed at you and you were clearly at a disadvantage.

Although you always tried to focus on the one closest to you, spotting who would attack and the like, despite that you knew that this was a problem. Fortunately for you, Altair was watching the whole situation and as soon as you were hit in the hand, help was on the way.

Just when you were starting to feel like you couldn't handle another attack, an assassin swooped in. He deflected one attack with his sword and blocked the other one aimed at you with his hand. You saw the sword go through his uniform, but you didn't see the blood. However, you had to focus on your opponents.

Together, you finally managed to kill the bandits and get to safety. At a sufficient distance, when you reached your camp and horses, you wanted to look at his hand. After all, you saw how the sword hit him. Altair showed her to you, but there was no injury on her. You looked at his hand in confusion.

"A lot was going on at once. Maybe someone else got hurt like that," he said, focusing his amber eyes on your shoulder, which was still bleeding and had a piece of arrows sticking out of it. "I'm more concerned about your injury," he said, inspecting it.

He carefully tried to help you out of your uniform, but it only got worse. A sharp pain shot through your shoulder and you looked unusually pale and exhausted. He didn't like this at all. This injury required proper treatment.

"We'll head straight for Jerusalem," Altair ordered. "Can you stay in the saddle?" he asked you worriedly. You nodded in agreement. After all, this little injury won't put you out of the game, right?

Unfortunately, you couldn't have been more wrong. After some time in the saddle, fatigue began to overtake you and the pain began to spread like a contagion throughout your body. 

At one point you had the impression that your eyelids were made of stone and that you couldn't keep them open any longer. You blinked and then blinked again. 

Then you could no longer open your eyelids and the peace of darkness enveloped you like a pleasant blanket. It wasn't until too late that you realized you fell asleep. It only dawned on you when a pair of hands grabbed you.

"You'd better ride with me," Altair said firmly. You nodded your head in agreement. He helped you onto his horse and settled behind you. He tied the reins of your horse to the saddle, held you around the waist with one hand so you wouldn't fall, and held the reins of his horse with the other. You leaned comfortably against his body, which warmed you pleasantly. Before you knew it, you fell asleep again.

You only woke up to the noise of people who were also heading to town. You stopped away from the main gate which was guarded by guards on each side.

"Can you get in?" Altair asked you as you regained your senses and surveyed your surroundings. Your shoulder still hurt, but you had already stopped bleeding.

"I'll make it. I'll blend in with those monks over there and sneak in with them undetected," you replied. Altair nodded his head in agreement. He helped you off the horse and onto the ground, putting his cloak over your shoulders. He didn't want your injury to attract unnecessary attention.

You did as you said and got through the guards to the city unnoticed. There you sat down on the bench and waited for the master, who joined you after a while. Together you walked through the alleys to the district where the base was located.

Normally you would have gotten there via the roof using parkour, but now you didn't want to risk making your injuries worse. Plus, you didn't want to risk running into the archers patrolling the rooftops.

When you finally reached the base here, you sat down on a bench in front of the building while the master made his way there via the roof. There was also a secret entrance, but only the local Rafiq knew about it. When you finally got inside, your injury was the priority.

Malik, the local Rafiq, with Altair's help, got rid of the rest of the arrow and tended to your wound, which began to bleed again. You were given the day off and rather your task was to rest. That wasn't a problem for you.

You lay down on the soft carpet that was littered with pillows and closed your eyes. You thought you were going to fall asleep again, but you probably weren't that tired again. 

You still had your eyes closed and were listening to your surroundings. Nothing very interesting. That is until you heard the voice of the master and Rafiq. They were talking about something.

"…It was supposed to be a simple mission. I went to check it out myself. I have no idea where they turned up. If I wasn't sure myself, I wouldn't have sent her there," you recognized your master's voice.

"I see. I'll try to find out more in the city," Malik replied. There was silence for a moment.

“Now tell me since when have you personally been training the novices?” Malik asked in a different tone. Altair didn't answer.

"Does she know about it?" was Rafiq's next question.

"No. I didn't tell her the real reason. Besides, she indeed has potential," finally replied the Grandmaster.

"Just be careful," Rafiq said finally.

"I know. But sometimes I have this urge..." you didn't hear the end of that sentence. Overall, the conversation was weird and didn't make any sense to you. 

Sure Altair acted strange at times, but what other reason could he have chosen to keep an eye on you? But now you had the impression that you wouldn't find out much. You'll have to go about it differently.

You left Jerusalem as soon as your shoulder healed. You surveyed the surrounding situation, Malik, who you found out was Altair's best friend, was overseeing your training for a while. Even so, they kept nudging each other. Malik kept calling him a novice, even in front of you, and it annoyed Altair.

Unlike the Grandmaster, Malik taught you in maps, documents, and generally in that direction. A proper assassin should develop both body and mind.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Assassin's Creed Masterlist

[whencyclopedia]

Battle of Kings Mountain

The Battle of Kings Mountain (7 October 1780) was a significant battle of the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783), fought in the backcountry of South Carolina between large parties of Patriot and Loyalist militias. The battle exemplified how the American Revolution could often take on the characteristics of civil war, as most participants on either side were Americans.

The Subjugation of the South

On 12 May 1780, the city of Charleston, South Carolina, fell to the British army after a grueling six-week siege. It was one of the greatest British triumphs of the war so far. Charleston was the largest and most important city in the American South, and its capture provided the British with an excellent base from which to invade the rest of the region. Sir Henry Clinton, commander-in-chief of the British army, did not believe that the subjugation of the South would be a difficult feat. It had long been rumored that the South was replete with Tories (or Loyalists) who felt oppressed by their new revolutionary governments and yearned for the return of royal authority. Clinton believed that the mere presence of British soldiers in the region would trigger a massive revolt of thousands of southern Tories, who would help the soldiers reconquer the South in the name of the king.

Once Charleston fell, Clinton immediately turned his attention to prodding South Carolina's Loyalist population into action. To achieve this, he appointed Major Patrick Ferguson as Inspector of Militia for the Southern Provinces, tasking him with the recruitment and organization of Tory militias. The Scottish-born Major Ferguson seemed to be an excellent candidate for such a task. A career soldier, Ferguson had entered the British army in his teens and had fought in the European theater of the Seven Years' War (1756-1763). He had patented a new kind of breechloading rifle that allowed for a higher rate of fire than the standard flintlock musket, even in wet weather; his British comrades, however, preferred the familiarity of their 'Brown Bess' muskets, and only 200 of Ferguson's Rifles were ever manufactured. Major Ferguson also had a sense of military honor. He claimed that during the Battle of Brandywine (11 September 1777), he had had an opportunity to shoot an American officer that he believed to be George Washington but had declined to do so, believing that it was dishonorable to target officers.

Ferguson was still only a major after his decades of military experience and was eager to prove himself worthy of his new command. Shortly after his appointment as Inspector of Militia on 22 May 1780, he rode to Tryon County, which was heavily populated by Loyalists, and spent the following months recruiting Tory militias. By August, he had raised around 4,000 Tory militiamen from across the South Carolina backcountry; while these numbers were impressive, they fell far short of the total number of Tories that Clinton had expected would rally to the British cause. But Ferguson made good use of what he had. During the summer of 1780, his Tories performed well in a series of skirmishes with Patriot militia that took place in the territory between the fortress of Ninety-Six and the North Carolina border. By the end of August, Ferguson had successfully driven most Patriot partisans from the northwestern part of South Carolina.

Ferguson's success against the Patriot militias was soon bolstered by an even more significant British victory. On 16 August 1780, the main British army under Lord Charles Cornwallis decisively defeated an American army at the Battle of Camden. The battle not only secured British control of South Carolina but also cleared a path for Cornwallis to launch an invasion of North Carolina (Cornwallis had taken over command from Clinton, who had returned to New York to keep an eye on Washington's army in the north). In early September, as Cornwallis prepared to march his army to Charlotte, North Carolina, he ordered Ferguson to enter the state first and begin recruiting and organizing militias of North Carolina Tories. Ferguson was then expected to defend the left flank of Cornwallis' army as it commenced its invasion. The Scottish major quickly rode into North Carolina to fulfill this new mission, eager to help play a role in Britain's subjugation of the South.

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[himogi]

Sharpshooter (or Sharpie)

Just a small idea I came up with. Highly flawed, doesn't even have a design, and probably wouldn't entirely fit TF2 but idgas.

Primary: Bayonet Rifle

-Works as both a melee and mid-range weapon

-Does not follow the same gimmick as the other

Weapons

Secondary: Revolver (I know it's strange since it's

Spy's 'primary but it would fit better than the pistols Engi and Scout have).

-

Can be switched out for other Revolver options as well as the:

Secondary (load out): Flintlock Pistol.

-Works similarly to the primary bayonet rifle but fires faster, does less damage, goes a long with her gimmick, and doesn't work as a melee

Melee (?): Throwing Knife(s).

-A psuedo melee weapon that can be thrown at the opponent

isn't as reliable due to its need of accuracy, but is worth it if you can aim.

Other: Gatling Gun (Could either become a fourth slot, primary loadout, or removed entirely because

I'm not sure about it).

-A mix

between a wrangled sentry and a minigun: has to be manually used (by using it while it's mounted and/or held) to shoot through the enemy team

-Has the same about of health as a level 2 Sentry

Other Mechanics:

Will have the 2nd highest amount of health and the 3 lowest speed (don't have anything exact though)

Gimmick: Any hits to the lower torso will crit

Lore (probably dumb ash):

Story: Born in the Western U.S., her young mind was infatuated with westerns. Because of this, she became an outlaw, stealing any old timey stuff she could find.

Personality: Basically a calmer and less smarty version of spy. She's probably the nicest and most reasonable person in the group, but she's definitely not sane.

Thats basically it. Like it, don't like it, give comments on it, shit on it, completely ignore it. I do not care.

#TF2 #Team Fortress 2 #OC

[dxppercxdxver]

what's that? is it a bird? is it a plane? no! it's more flintlock fortress! featuring my beloved judith! read posthaste!

[chiropteracupola]

WIP Game - blade, sun, or delight?

sharpe-wears-a-dress fic I still don't have a more succinct name for:

With Teresa’s hands on him, carefully manipulating his jaw between her palms, turning his head in whichever direction she pleased, he wanted to lean into her, to let his mouth fall open and moan in contentment. But he could not — the least movement might send the blade astray, and Sharpe would bear another failure-mark in a cut across his face.

henry v werewolf au:

The oldest of Exeter’s nephews was at the head of the group — taking the lead, as Henry king of England was always wont to do — and he stopped, seemingly unsure of his next step. Sunlight caught his hair, left free from cloak and hood, as he turned, scanning the trees and undergrowth for any movement. A squirrel chattered from above, and a scattered flock of crows passed, wheeling and weaving, through the expanse of dawn-grey sky — had the birds taking flight been the great rustling movement they had seen?

flintlock fortress julien/judith fic*:

Her hair was threaded with silver-gilt that could not be owed to powder now, a ripple of frost running through their sweet-ripe summer’s-end where he had been so pleased to run his fingers through her locks. And he had delighted in her disassembly of him, the way she unfastened the ribbon holding back his hair and played with the long curling locks of it. Her narrow fingertip traced the scar that spanned his cheekbone — under Judith Thornton’s touch, it was a badge of honor, silken scarlet like the favor a lady might grant her knight.

[hmrhodes]

Comparison of the Gunpowder Empires and their usage of gunpowder

As mentioned before, the Ottoman Empire adopted firearms early, such as around the 14th century. They had skilled military men, such as the Janissaries and the Sipahis. The Janissaries played an important role and were a driving force of the Ottoman Empire, but the Sipahis were the heart of the Ottoman cavalry. They also dominated the Mediterranean Sea with their navy, which contributed to the empire's expansion of territory and control of trade routes.

The other Gunpowder Empires, such as the Safavids and the Mughals, embraced firearms within their military and had well-trained units as well. They also had a strong cavalry in both empires, such as the Qizilbash cavalry being strong within the Safavid Empire and also known for their loyalty to the Shah. The Mughals also had a strong cavalry which was significant in their military conquests. However, they did not have as good as a naval presence as the Ottomans. They did not play a role in maintaining the Mediterranean and focused more on land-based military campaigns. Despite the Ottomans being well-known for their usage of siege warfare, the Safavids and Mughals also engaged in it. They, however, did not have the same level of expertise as the Ottomans, such as with terrain, but were able to capture fortified cities and castles.

However, all three of the Gunpowder Empires had different tactics to work with since they all had different terrain. The Ottoman Empire was a large empire that had control of parts of Europe, Asia, and Africa, which posed several different geographical challenges and required a large military force. Especially since they needed protection from multiple angles, both on land and sea.

The Safavid Empire was mostly a landlocked territory that only had to worry about the Arabian Sea. They also had a smaller territory which spanned over the Middle East. Their geographical location influenced their military strategies and priorities, such as not having a navy (or a strong one) due to being mostly surrounded by land and mountains.

The Mughal Empire was another empire with a large territory in South Asia, which also had diverse geographical features such as fields, mountains, and deserts. They posed several different challenges and required a large military force as well.

However, with them all being Gunpowder Empires and having access to gunpowder, they were able to develop and advance strong firearms such as muskets, pistols, and cannons. All three empires had units specifically for handling special types of artillery, such as the Janissaries, Sipahis, and Qizilbash.

Cannons made siege warfare a lot easier as large caliber cannons could break down walls easily and quickly. They also led to the construction of new fortresses and tactics, such as star-shaped fortresses to withstand bombardment. With the increasing firearm power, it changed the way wars were fought and the outcomes of them.

Overall, gunpowder was able to advance technology such as going from swords and sabres, to muskets, to flintlock muskets, to pistols, and to cannons that could either break down walls or be on the move. It also allowed them to expand and upgrade their military, like the navy and cavalry, which only allowed them to grow stronger before all three fell.

[creatuesfromthedeep]

In my lore, dragons (typically) train in their clan of origin or find a clan with an appropriate trainer in order to get strong enough to survive the journey to the Fortress of Ends. The more ambitious dragons will train for longer, the less ambitious dragons will train for shorter amounts of time. The treasure they give is also semi-canon, as they're paying for training, lodging, etc, while in my clan. Though in my lore, the treasure goes directly to the dragons they were paying, not the main clan treasury

Since my clan is in the Cloudscrape Crags, the journey to the Fortress of Ends is a long one! According to the World Map, the length of travel would be roughly equivalent to going from the center of the Windswept Plateau to the Flintlock Fumaroles in the Ashfall Waste. That means most notably trekking through Reclaimer's Glacier, which I imagine to be an important part of the spiritual journey to Exaltation. Sure, one could technically sail to the Fortress of Ends (good luck climbing those cliffs from the sea), but they wouldn't really be proving their worth to the Icewarden that way

Additionally, I do think that the more southern you go, the harder it becomes to fly for long distances. The winds are too intense and the threat of frostbite on vulnerable wingtips is too high. Which is another reason why Gaolers and Tundras are perfectly suited for this journey; their thick fur coats and more grounded lifestyles (in the physical sense) mean that on-foot travel is a bit easier for them

Once they get to the Fortress of Ends, they go through the process of becoming Exalted. I think of it like joining the military. They'll be assessed, trained, and given a role in the Icewarden's forces. It might mean they become a secretary, or they might become a spec-ops agent fighting lingering traces of the Shade all around the world -- it depends on their skillset and what the Icewarden needs

I've actually got some dragons who's lore is that they're Exalted, and they're simply in my clan's territory for their work. I like the concept that Exaltation isn't something that causes dragons to disappear forever from public life. Is it much more common to see more Exalted dragons in certain circumstances than others? Yeah, but you'll see more soldiers at a military base too

It does signify some pretty intense levels of devotion for dragons who don't end up Exalted to their home element. A Nature dragon traveling all the way to the Southern Icefield to Exalt themselves to the Icewarden is pretty rare in my lore, just because 99% of Nature dragons aren't going to make that trek

For those who consider exalting canon to their lore, I have a question

How does the act of Getting Exalted go? Like, when a dragon says "yep, I'm all done with my Training To Get Exalted now," what's next? Tell me!

[ao3feed-tf2ships]

(teach me to be) a winter's blossom

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/61788940

by mxpauling

He truly had not meant for her to know, had assumed it would have been easier on them all to simply disappear, morning fog off the waves with the breaking of a new dawn. After all, Judith would find herself in far more trouble if Julien stayed by her side, and he had duties across the ocean whose importance tugged at him with an urgency that had far superseded his affections for one woman and her as-yet-unborn son.

 the spy must leave his love behind

Words: 2112, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Flintlock Fortress

Fandoms: Team Fortress 2

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Scout's Mother (Team Fortress 2), Spy (Team Fortress 2)

Relationships: Scout's Mother/Spy (Team Fortress 2)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - American Revolution, Alternate Universe - 18th century, Alternate Universe - Historical, American Revolution, Angst, Tragic Romance, listen. listen. justice for one million years for scout's mom, i think about her. a lot, what if you have had a miserable life and you meet someone who makes you so happy, and then he has to leave and you know he has to leave but him leaving will destroy you, well. read on and find out ig, judith :((

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/61788940

[sawbones-showdown]

DISQUALIFIERS WILDCARD ROUND

several people sent in doctors that don't actually fit the terms of the bracket, but certain of them felt like that they'd either be Suitable or Funny to include, despite their lack of qualifications for the actual competition going on. but in the end, a 42nd doctor was needed to make up an even number of contestants, so we'll accept one Disqualifier Doctor into the prepared bracket!

[note: this concerns Victor Frankenstein from 'Young Frankenstein' (1974) specifically, Victor Frankestein from the original novel will appear elsewhere in the bracket]