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| Tweet Topic Started: Sat Sep 17, 2016 1:22 pm (8,270 Views) | |
| Anci | Tue Oct 18, 2016 2:52 pm Post #136 |
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Night of the Living Abominable Enkachilada The enkaida seemed frightened for the first two days she had been working at the circus. With something called a man-eater and a fairly abnormal appearance, Anci entertained few doubts it received about as much care as animals used in bloodsports did. The night it spoke to her was a surprise though, one that had a lot worse implications on the nature of what an enkaida could be. She didn’t know much about it, it could very well be dangerous but it hadn’t shown any aggressive behaviour. It’d mostly just went for the water she had been giving to it each night. As the way things were going it looked like she wouldn’t be working here much longer as it is, Nine Angels was getting in flocks of outsiders and just made it all the more likely someone would recognize them as a zakona. “Wait, okay? Just a little longer.” She finished up her tasks, drawing the time out so most of the others had gone home. When it looked like everything was relatively in order she told the enkaida to wait again for a few more minutes before checking out and getting her day’s pay. Freeing the enkaida might have felt like a decent thing to do, but it wouldn’t buy them food. Fistful of notes secured, Anci slunk back in and made good on her promise and opened the cage’s door. She swung it wide open and stood off to the side with it. She was still wary about what it might do. “They will be looking for you.” She kept her tone even and calm, the enkaida was probably going to be riled up and excited over freedom but she needed it to stay quiet so they could get out of here without issue. Slowly she moved her hand in a rhythmic pattern to draw the enkaida’s attention on her and more specifically her words. It was capable of speech, but just how intelligent it was remained to be seen. “Probably in the water if your appearance is anything to go by. You can not go there, not yet. I know a place you can go, less people out there and it will be a little safer than here.” There was one last thing she needed to figure out before bringing it back to the Castle. Gently and cautiously she held out her hand to shake its massive paw. “My name is Anci, what is yours?” Wholesome and child-friendly time spent with Lorica Anci hadn’t exactly been the best employee. She had been stealing straw as she could for use as padding on some makeshift mattresses. Better than sleeping on the floor, the ragged curtain used as a cover was mostly free of holes with a little little needle work and some spare bits of cloth. She laughed at Lore’s proposal. “Well I do not want to be accused of being one to waste time.” Later on Anci ran her fingers gently around Lorica’s eyes, tracing the black markings that had taken on a thorny appearance. The significance of the appearance wasn’t lost on her, and from what she had learned of the Ethereal plane their presence wasn’t lost on her either. “Is that where you have been learning these things from?” She didn’t say what the where was, the implication was clear enough. Anci was working to keep from sounding disappointed or distraught, she didn’t want to ruin these quiet moments but ever since the marks had appeared on Lore and Alex’s faces she had wanted to confront her about it. “What have you been giving it? You are not missing any pieces, I checked.” She gave a lopsided smile that was a little forced. If Lorica was regrowing body parts to cheat the ethereal plane, that seemed like a disastrous route. Anci’s own deal had not been physical or long lasting, so it was possible Lore’s payments had been ephemeral. She wasn’t certain which option was worse though. Lorica reached up and brushed her own eyelids, her eyes going distant. "It asked for a body part once, but I said no. I like the way I look just fine." She shook her head. "Nothing major. Negative memories, fears, betrayals. Luckily I have plenty to share." "The bad makes you who you are, just as much as the good. Are you not worried about losing your soul, piece by piece?" "Oh, it doesn't take the bad. I remember it just as fresh as always. More's the pity." "It took Alex's arm, put in a dark replacement. How do you know that memory you gave it is the same one you had before?" Lorica grinned crookedly. "Because the Ethereal couldn't come up with something as [removed]ed up as my past, Braids. I'm pretty certain it's not trying to change me... just know more about me." "You are making play with flames." Anci's face twisted as she wrestled with the right words and what she wanted to say. "Be careful. That is not how you do, but you have seen those middlemen. I do not want that to be you." Her stare was unwavering and her expression serious, Lore's grin had failed to be infectious. The Keeper's smile faded, leaving her expression grim. "I know. I'll be careful. I won't give it too much. Just..." She lapsed into silence for a moment, trying to fight the right words to express herself. "I... I'm not going to die here, Anci. Not in this [removed]ing hellhole, not some place that never sees the light of day. I can't. I won't." Anci took one of Lore's hands and held it with her own. "I told myself those things before when I was bound in a dark place. It was very bright, very hot, but do not misunderstand me. It was just as vile as this place can be. I watched some good people lose themselves piece by piece to the <Weavers>. Because they did not want to die there." She paused and took a breath, looking down the front of Lore. It felt uncomfortable talking about this, this close to someone. She wanted a safe distance. "I did not sell myself cheap. I am still mostly me. I lost some of myself there, but it was not cheap. We have each other to rely on, and the others. Promise me you will not let this place eat more of you up so much?" Lorica leaned forward, gently bumping her forehead against Anci's. "I will only give it as much as I must. I'll stay myself. For better or for worse." "With you, I will take this as a winning chalk." Recainrs: An Item Shop’s Tale Now that her days weren’t spent laboring at the circus, Anci found herself with a lot more time. A lot of notes burning a hole in her pocket as well. She had learned her lesson, opting to leave the majority of her notes tucked away back at the Castle. She couldn’t lose what she didn’t have on her! [laughingcreditors.jpg] She went with Lore who wanted to go talk to the Bearkiller, only splitting off near the destination and promising to meet back with her at the casino later on. Judging by the long line, Anci would be back well before Lore was done. There was a lot of interesting things for sale here. None of it stuck out as the gaudy and lavish things she had seen on display in some other more affluent cities, but there was a draw to the works and wares in Nine Angels even if they were on the macabre side of things. In a smaller curio emporium. She didn’t recognize the language the sign was written in or the bridgetongue on it. Inside the shop she felt a little more at ease to her surprise. Anci recognized some of the wood carvings from Choer, telling one of the more trimmed down and widespread stories concerning the death of the great land serpent Tzimpotchi. Seeing a set of Sulerian shackles hanging on the wall with some other pieces of crafted jewelry chilled her more than the cold air outside had. She didn’t dwell on it too long, her eyes drawn to some manikins in the back. Most of them she didn’t recognize, one stood out to her. The decorative vambraces and greaves weren’t the original, but the long feathered cloak draped over half of the manikin was. Even after all these years the vibrantly colored feathers stood out, the colors rippling as they appeared to change from the angle she looked at them. The half mask was the original as well, at least it was a shockingly well made replication. Running her hands over the metal filigree, she traced a slight imperfection where it had been repaired when it had been cloven in two. That particular wound had taken splot the front of her face and taken her lower jaw with it. “See something you’d like?” The voice snapped her out of the vivid rush of memories and sensation. Anci worked her mouth for a few moments to remind herself that everything was as it should have been. “How much for this?” “That’s a valued antique, worn by an honor guard from the Meclinarian empire. Not many of them are in exi-” She looked at the shop owner fully, they were short with mottled dark grey skin and wide, pupiless eyes. She didn’t recognize the patterns of his robes, but Anci was willing to acknowledge that the threaded patterns of greens and blues was nice. Inoffensive. “Do not lie. I know this is Sulerian in make.” He went to make a noise and she pointed at the other pieces, cutting him off with her own words. “The mask and the cloak are. These are not. You can tell by the metal.” The trader’s lids narrowed, his lips were pursed while staring at her in silence. It went on long enough Anci started feeling a little unnerved, shifting her weight by moving her stance snapped the trader out of whatever line of thinking her had been making. “You’re from Suler I take it? I couldn’t quite place your accent, but it’s noticeable.” “I wore this. I earned these.” The threatening tone in her voice surprised Anci herself. That she was so bothered to see what was essentially her legacy for sale in the backwater of Balefire, to see it labeled under a lie. It bothered her more than she thought it would. “How much?” The merchant paused again, not as long as he had the first time. She wondered just how he was appraising this sale. Anci had wisely made sure not to announce how many notes she had on her person. The last three times that happened everything cost exactly as much as she had. His answer made her face drop, just a little. Even without counting she knew it was more than what she had on her. It was almost all she had back at the Castle. She couldn’t very well throw every note she had away on just this. Pulling out the well worn notes she slapped them onto the countertop. Judging from the way the veins rolled slightly, he looked down at them and then back up at her. Clearly unimpressed. “This is all I have. I will trade with you for the rest.” The grey skin around his mouth pulled back in a grin, this close up she could see a secondary set of teeth behind the first. “What do you have to offer?” She didn’t answer him directly, pointing around the shop at a number of different objects and asking their relative costs. Some were ludicrously high, others were relatively worthless. “Some things are not valued right. Some things you are charging too much for, some things would be worth far more than what you are asking.” Anci didn’t really know how much they were worth in the grand scheme of this economy, but she knew at least by the standard this shop was setting he had some things that could be marked up. “I will tell you the real value of some things you are selling as junk, you sell them at a higher price. I get my old belongings? Fair?” “First tell me what you know, then I’ll decide if it’s worth a discount.” “No. We deal now or not at all.” He started staring at her again silently. This time she was ready and matched it. It seemed a little easier, staring into eyes without pupils. She spent the time counting the blood vessels visible in his eyes. “Fine. Deal.” She shook his hand, the elongated four fingers wrapping around her wrist. “If you cheat me, I’ll be selling you to the meat dealer.” She nodded quietly, wondering if she would have been better off to bring Lorica with her. A friendly cannibal was more trustworthy than a shady predator. The accord was found to be fair, although Anci had stretched the truth on some of the Choer and Sulerian trinkets found there. Just enough to make them sound better than they were. Afterwards she skipped on over to the casino and waited for Lore who had just entered the Bearkiller’s office. It took some time but when Lore emerged she didn’t look happy, she looked pissed. “What happened in there?” Trip to spoopstone park Anci was going to the spring, with or without anyone else. She took some time to pull a beast from the Otherside on over. The extra time and slow pace allowed her to make sure the bindings were tight and secure, and it was less physically draining on her. Anci asked if the enkaida would like to come, telling it that she was going to some water. Lore was rounding up others to crack some heads and take some gangs. She wanted to help, but it looked like quite a few of the others were as well so Lore wasn’t lacking for help. The dustup and commotion the other pariahs were making might also draw attention or keep others off the streets in the dark districts as she made her way to the spring. [/color] OOC
Edited by Anci, Thu Oct 20, 2016 1:35 am.
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| Keter | Tue Oct 18, 2016 3:33 pm Post #137 |
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Finding a place to rest each night between the stealthier members of the group did not take much time and helped close off a need almost as quickly as it arose. While others chose their rooms, Keter merely took to resting in whatever shadows he could nestle into, letting the outlines of his form melt into the darkness while he rested and relying on his Shade to keep a watch over his sleeping form as well as the inside of the so-called "Castle". Even then, he never had what could be considered a good night's sleep. The breeze picking up outside, a fellow Paraiah stirring in their sleep, even the subtlest movement of a shadow was enough to interrupt his slumber. For Keter there were enemies everywhere even on a good day, but these days were far from peaceful, yet he remained quiet. If any saw him in the shadows, perhaps they would wonder if he ever actually slept or if he just sat there watching the building in some sort of half-meditative state. The injuries accrued from the boxing matches did little more than occasionally mildly annoy Keter. They were moderate, but an expected result of getting into a series of tough fight. In truth they were not nearly as severe as he had been expecting, having gone to the gambling hall fully expecting that the other Wine River Pariahs would have jumped at the chance of fighting him, but instead they were set to fight alongside him. Oh well, they would simply have to find some time later to turn their grievances with him physical. Thanks to his union with the abyssal, Keter could essentially keep watch over the building's interior while he slept, and take shifts watching the outside world when he had the time to spare. His ability to detect shadows and motion coupled with his Shadow's ability to separate from him and patrol would surely prove helpful, but all that provided was an additional bit of security that could also be covered by other members. As was noted by the rest of the zakona group, they would need an alternative means of collecting money with so many people moving through Nine Angels. The plentiful collection of new eyes and the surge of zakona bounties being brought to peoples' attention would prove tricky to work around, but far from impossible. Kir Lantos, the knife-happy woman mentioned. That could possibly be considered the truest name of their common enemy, the person responsible for uniting a dangerous motley crew. He should have understood that gathering random strangers to use as scapegoats would be a dangerous play for a number of reasons, but still it was the one he had chosen, and the last lesson he would take with him to the afterlife would be of how foolish that decision was. One simple plan with what to do with their time was to handle the smaller, unaffiliated groups. Whether by simply deterring them from a life of crime, or taking them in as henchmen loyal through fear, the group of zakona could begin solidifying their place in Nina Angels by reducing the chaotic element of crime. Keter met up with Yurim after the thief was finished cleaning himself up and kept to the shadows. It did not take long to find a group of thugs waiting out of the corner of a normal person's sight to spring their ambush. Going in prepared was definitely a boon, and Yurim was the first to encounter them and to retaliate. "Beating them until they agree, isn't that more likely to scare them off?" Keter scoffed as stepped from the shadows behind the group, his hands buried in the pockets of his warm coat. If they had attended the Lucky Cleric's Gambling Hall any time during Keter's presence as a fighter there, then they might have recognized him even between the storm hat and the collar of the thick outerwear, "This sort of work is about money through strength of numbers and cleverness. Of course this setup is beginner-level, not much effort put in and not much money to be made, but we can show you how to change that. We need more men, and you need an actual plan that will keep you safe, it's a. . . Mutually beneficial. "A mutually beneficial deal. We can show you how to improve, we can teach you how to earn more money, and you can help us accomplish our goals. The only way to lose with this sort of deal is to reject it, because if you do that then it's like my friend said: We'll just start beating you until you stop being an obstacle. So would you rather be an employee, or an obstacle?" OOC
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| Tanya | Tue Oct 18, 2016 4:00 pm Post #138 |
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The day after Madame Tanya left Alkaev's house and the Lucky Cleric, she found herself with an unexpected abundance of time on her hands. She woke up early, as she'd been accustomed to doing, but now instead of hurrying off to keep Alakev's employees safe, she just sat in bed feeling restless. She cast a couple of healing spells on herself, closing as many of the wounds she'd accrued boxing as she could, but that was over in a matter of minutes leaving her once again with nothing to do. She was on the verge of heading out to take back her old job despite the risks, just to have something to do, when Caelum approached her and coughed quietly. "Yes, Caelum?" Lightning crackled on the elemental's forehead. "Would you mind me sitting, Madame Tanya?" She gestured to the bed beside her. He perched on the edge and swallowed. "Er... Madame Tanya, you know that bounty poster you found on the ship? The enchanted one? I was just wondering... Do you think we're on it?" Madame Tanya raised her eyebrows. "That's a good question. Would you like to check?" She rummaged through her bags and emerged with the poster. "Show me Caelum's bounty poster," she ordered it. Lines of ink emerged from the page. She and Caelum read it together. When he'd reached the end, he looked up from the poster, wide-eyed. "I wouldn't surrender! I wouldn't! I know I'm not brave, but I'd never sell you out, I promise. They have it completely wrong." Tanya chuckled. "I know you wouldn't. Caedis!" she called. The vampire grudgingly rolled off his cot and approached. "You want to see what you're worth? Show me Caedis' bounty poster." The drawing twisted into Caedis' face. All three read the words below it. Caedis stared at his likeness for several seconds. "Scapegoats!" he erupted. "They blame their problems on us... and we're their problem... and their solution. Everything is set up nice and neat. Just like a fortune teller. Why didn't I kill someone?" "I'm sure you'll get your chance, Twitchy," Tanya told him. "My turn! Show me Tanya's bounty poster." The poster dutifully morphed once again. She skimmed the description and set aside the poster, grinning. "You'd need to pay hundreds of thousands of notes to get this sort of advertising normally. I should've become an outlaw a long time ago." Her expression soured. "'Handyman', though... you know, you might think that ripping off my own arm to escape a shackle might earn me a nickname like, I don't know, "butcher" or "savage" or even just "Madame", but no, they went with the pun. Of course they went with the pun. How could I have thought they'd do anything else?" She picked up the poster and headed into the next room, where a discussion on strategy was starting up. Several possible options were offered, including selling her own services as an alchemist and healer. She nodded at the first few suggestions, but hesitated at the mention of cattle rustling. "I'll try to get the supplies to provide healing and medicine, and we should see what else we can get in on, but rustling sounds like a bad gamble to me. Aside from sticking us with a bunch of livestock, we'd turn the locals against us. We should try not to step on anyone's toes if we can avoid it. Oh, clarification: I don't mean we shouldn't piss anyone off. It's just that when we do, we shouldn't leave them in a position to retaliate. Don't step on their toes. Cut off their legs." She paused. "I'm leaning towards taking out the Gentlemen as a way to carve out a place for ourselves. It won't be easy, but I don't think we'd be pissing off any other major factions, and it would be nice to outnumber someone for once. We also know more about them than we do anyone else except people like Czajka and the Dalka brothers, and they're the closest thing to allies we have." She turned to leave, but then a thought struck her and she stepped back. "Oh--one other thing. I recovered this from the ship." She put her Magic Bounty Poster on the table and looked at the others. "It shows the bounty poster for anyone we want. Here's mine." She showed the poster around the group. "Ignore the nickname. Some sailor probably thought they were soooo funny..." She shook herself and let the poster's lines fade. "Anyway, considering how much the Dalcas' information on the other zakona was worth to Czajka, this could get us a great deal of sway if we act fast. We can get bounty information on anyone before anyone else. We'd just need someone who can track them down. Any of you interested?" She set the poster on the table and headed out to go look at the potion shop they'd seen coming into town. The minotaur kept a close eye on her as she edged past it, but didn't block her way. She went inside and looked for the shop's owner. "Excuse me. What do you have in the way of alchemical reagents?" The owner was a slender vampire. Staring at Tanya with piercing red eyes, she held herself slouched with spindly clawed hands drawn up. Head twitching, she forced her lips into a mockery of a human smile. "Oh. H-hello. Reagents, reagents... n-not much." Clacking her bottom two jaws nervously, she gestured toward the baskets of reagents nestled along one side of the store. Most were empty and few were more than half-full. All local types. Darkplants, wildlife parts, blood samples. "Wh-what do you want to make?" she said, tilting her head like an owl. Tanya checked the baskets, paying particular attention to the blood samples. "Anything I can, really, especially healing potions. My entire stock was recently lost due to unforeseen circumstances. Speaking of which, what is it that's sending you out of business? I got the impression a place selling things like healing potions would do quite well in this area." She looked over a few more reagents, testing them for freshness, before turning back to the vampire. "What are these blood grafts from? And how much do you want for the lot of these ingredients? Can I get a bulk rate?" "I-I can't turn a profit... living here has been s-so hard. E-even the youths think I'm an easy target. The guard is g-great but he-- he is expensive. I am st-stuck. So I need to g-go. I saved-- I'm g-going to ride the f-ferry to Balefire and buy a scorchline ticket to Cascadia a-and try to build a n-new shop. This one is w-worthless." She held up the brightly colored but worn-down parasol she had stashed behind the counter to show she was ready for life as a daywalker. The store owner showed Tanya the reagents with medicinal or healing properties. One of the most abundant available was Bright Creeper Root by the bundle. "G-grind it, soak it, whatever you like as l-long as you take it internally -- it gets r-rid of early-stage lycanthropy. Use w-within twenty-four hours of a bite or scratch from virulent strains. But... not much demand in a place with no p-packs. If you want it, mix it with something. It's b-bitter." "The blood is from the blood-p-peddlers. T-tested pure, no large deals made. Blood doesn't m-make a good reagent if it's p-polluted by the Shadow, of c-course." Tanya smiled. "Worthless? I take it you'd be willing to sell, then?" The price the shopkeep named was slightly beyond her means, but after scribbling a few messages on her runed paper to the other Pariahs, she was able to scavenge enough money to not only buy the shop but also keep the vampire herself on retainer. "Excellent! I look forward to making your acquaintance. Hopefully we can turn this store's fortune around. My name's Madame Tanya. What's yours?" After the shopkeeper replied, Tanya looked at the available reagents. "I assume you have a place to craft potions. What say you take me back there and show me what you know?" Used
Edited by Tanya, Tue Oct 18, 2016 4:32 pm.
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| Carmen | Tue Oct 18, 2016 4:27 pm Post #139 |
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Carmen took her time thanking everyone who was involved in finding their hideout, especially Zuraw, with whom she'd exchanged so few words to date. As she was about to leave the lycan, her face softened. "Zuraw," she whispered. "I don't claim to know how things were where you came from, but here with us, there is no alpha. And No omega. You're one of us, a Wine River Pariah, and that's all that matters." The half-werewolf made a shy smile and nodded. She then picked out a room for herself. Like a princess in her tower, Carmen's room was on the highest level of The Castle, spacious and with several windows that were thankfully unbroken. There was an empty armoire that she could already envision filled with fine silks and cashmere. The group collected to discuss their immediate plans, and afterward they dispersed, some to follow through on the preparations, others, like Carmen, to put some of their newly acquired money to use. She bought comfortable bedding for her room, magnificent royal-blue drapes for her windows, and a soft rug to cover most of the cold stone floor. The clothing available in Nine Angels left a great deal for Carmen to desire, and was mostly utilitarian in design. She bought boots and shoes, replaced her stolen clothes with equally warm substitutes, and had her warm jacket properly tailored. She swapped the mud-stained feathers in her capitano hat for new ones that were long and brightly colored. Then she bought a few dresses, white and green and red, each with ornamentation and elegant design, and had a seamstress alter them to perfectly fit her form. Later, hoping she was not being too intrusive, Carmen decided to accompany Tanya on her visit to the apothecary. She smiled politely at the minotaur, wishing him a pleasant day before waiting her turn to enter behind Tanya. When her gaze landed on the vampire, however, Carmen froze for several moments, struggling to force a word from her mouth before finally regaining her composure. "To make your tinctures," she said, "do you source your water locally? The river is foul, and even the well is polluted. Do you have the means to purify it, or is there another source?" She adjusted her hat and gave another friendly smile. "We wouldn't want to purchase anything without assurance to its quality, after all." "Oh, o-of course," the vampire said, nodding compulsively. "Th-there is a rain catcher on the r-roof. I u-use that mostly. For b-big jobs I usually p-paid the youths to go to the edge of town where th-there's a spring..." "I understand," Carmen nodded. She waited while Tanya got the details about purchasing the potions, remedies, and the property itself. It seemed that the Pariahs might have found their first local investment. "The spring," she asked when she was given the chance, and after the proprietor was given the distinct impression that her financial woes were about to end. "Is it far? Is the route dangerous? The locals all seem to use the well. There must be some reason that they don't travel to the spring." "It's just w-way too far for daily needs," the vampire said. "Basically the edge of town. And it's as d-dangerous as any route through the Dark District is. S-so they use the well whenever t-they're out of rainwater. Or if they c-can't afford to keep a rainwater collecting device from freezing on them. Or they d-don't think the well water will hurt them." Not long after, the Pariahs had secured the potion shop as their own. Carmen, for better or worse, was nominated to run the store, while the others were busy trying to secure the freshwater spring, intimidating the youth gangs, or both. Carmen wore one of her new dresses as she stood behind the counter. She'd used an incantation to alter her appearance, taking on the guise of a deep elf, like the ones she'd seen in the caverns not so far from Nine Angels, but her ability to persuade and influence remained unchanged. Outside the establishment, a new wooden placard swung from the signpost, reading 'Under New Management'. She invited Ansgar to act as the new guard, since the minotaur had been dismissed, but whether or not he would was up to him. Tanya and the former owner were in the back, discussing elixirs and chemistry and all sorts of alchemical art of which Carmen desired no knowledge. The vampire gave Carmen chills down her spine, and the less she had to look at that woman the better. She drummed her fingers on the counter, waiting for customers, or news from the rest of their loosely-knit group. OOC |
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| Tian | Tue Oct 18, 2016 5:12 pm Post #140 |
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After some time collecting things that were needful to him, Tian stepped back into the room he had claimed for himself at The Castle. It was almost a name worth laughing about, with its humble beginnings, and there was no assurance it wouldn't end in blood and fire before it was all said and done. The only thing he knew for certain was that, when it was all over, he would walk away from it alive. Again. Endlessly alive. The room was small, and it was spartan. A narrow, hard bed with blankets and a pillow, all drab and cheap, set in a corner with a tattered rug on the floor and a small dresser that would serve to store his small clothes and such things as he needed to mend his armor and maintain it, and would also double as a desk, not that he had much need for it. It was a working man's room, and held virtually no personal touches. It was a place to sleep, and a place to seek solitude with his thoughts, which were dark. Very dark. Of course, there were touches here and there. A section of the wall that he had hollowed out and covered n such a way that only someone that knew it was there could find it, and currently empty of anything except a few notes. He had given his earnings from Alkaevs to the group to secure a shop that he affectionately thought of as 'The Front', and it was a place he had every intention of fencing things from if the opportunity arose. The conversation with the group hadn't really gone anywhere. He was in favor of dealing with the Gentleman, but had to concede that gathering strength was imperative. So was gathering intelligence, else they find themselves biting off a lot more than they could chew, too quickly. Mostly, he did his shift at watching The Castle and its boundries, slipping from one dark place to another, eyes piercing the darkness as easily as if it were fully light. No one would approach unseen, and any such worthies would be dealt with as harshly as he could. The idea of frightening people off never occurred to him, because such people would speak, and they needed to keep a low profile for the nonce. And there was the continued prying for information. He was not done gathering such precious gems - they were worth easily as much as money. After his general information gathering, he could now be more specific, and he absolutely was. It was the Quiet Road he hunted for information on, and an intent ot find out how to speak with Barek if at all possible. Finding out as much as he could about the Scribe, and setting up a meeting that the Pariahs could attend if it sounded a good idea...that was hist motivation and, aside from guard duty, his contribution to the group. Originally, he was going to join the group press-ganging the wandering gangs into service, but there were plenty of people to handle that kind of thing, and he didn't feel the need to spend all of their resources handling that particular task, or the spring. As an additional lark, though, he noted the mask that one of the others had worn, and grinning, adopted his own personal touch. It suited him well enough; illusiion crafted to keep his face permanently hidden in darkness, except for his eyes floating in darkness. |
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| Glug Photall | Tue Oct 18, 2016 5:48 pm Post #141 |
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"Ladies, gents, and otherwise, I have something to share." His flatbrim pulled low, his cloak pulled about him, he was a shadow among shadows. The only thing completely visible was the glowing fire from his burning cigar until the others were called into the room. He'd decided not to utilize a single room, but to shift his place to bed down each night. He didn’t trust anyone at this point, though he was willing to work with them if he must. He stepped forward, though he remained cloaked and his hat continued to shade his features, and listened to what Lorica has to say. Lorica tapped the black scratches around her eyes before speaking again. "So long as we're stuck in this shithole together, you may as well know: Antonio Krupin isn't real. Or at least, it's not who we met with. Remember that alfha Kir Lantos that got the Dalcas all riled up? That's who we're dealing with." She grinned wolfishly, her eyes dark with the promise of violence. "We chose this path. We're gonna need silver if we want to put that [removed]er's head on a pike." Glug wasn’t pleased but he added the name to his list. Antonio Krupin might not be behind this whole thing, but he was involved nevertheless. He had three names now...Krupin, Keter, and Kir Lantos. Yes, he would definitely need some silver for his arrows before he could truly get to work. But the blonde girl spoke up next. "Kir Lantos and Antonio Krupin are the same person. Krupin is his human name." Zuraw nodded at that. Glug glanced over at their “silent partner” but said nothing, instead focusing on the others who were speaking. He didn’t say anything at all for a while, as people discussed what to do next. Yurim seemed to agree that they needed some silver weapons as well as a source of income. ”I'd say we should go for fruit. We can make a deal with the Ivory League; not only would they be happy to help but we'll probably be able to make some decent cash." The goblin nodded at that, his flatbrim dipping momentarily. The smoke from his cigar obscured his eyes as he spoke. "What about rustling?" he inquired. "Should be able to pick off a few here and there. Cattle's tough to deal with, big as it is, but if we can get it here and hide it somehow..." He paused long enough to draw on his cigar, letting smoke pour out as he spoke, which only served to obscure his features further. "But we'd have to be able to prove that they aren't sick. Some kind o' plague in Halasz. Seeing as this is all river country, I doubt anyone would want anything from any of us that they don't know for certain is clean. And that's another problem: we aren't known, and any name we make for ourselves will only put us on a narrower precipice." Tanya spoke up next. "I'll try to get the supplies to provide healing and medicine, and we should see what else we can get in on, but cattle-rustling sounds like a bad gamble to me. Aside from sticking us with a bunch of cattle, we'd turn the locals against us. We should try not to step on anyone's toes if we can avoid it. Oh, clarification: I don't mean we shouldn't piss anyone off. It's just that when we do, we shouldn't leave them in a position to retaliate. Don't step on their toes. Cut off their legs." She had a good point. ”I'm leaning towards taking out the Gentlemen as a way to carve out a place for ourselves. It won't be easy, but I don't think we'd be pissing off any other major factions, and it would be nice to outnumber someone for once. We also know more about them than we do anyone else, except people like Czajka and the Dalca brothers, and they're the closest thing to allies we have. Oh--one other thing. I recovered this from the ship." Tanya put her Magic Bounty Poster on the table and looked at the others. "It shows the bounty poster for anyone we want. Here's mine." Lines of ink emerged from the poster to form a sketch of Tanya's face along with her name and details including the nickname “Handyman”. That was slightly unnerving to Glug; did that thing only display existing bounties, or could new ones be formed on it? He was right to have only shared the most pertinent information he’d found with her via that communiquill she’d given him. "Ignore the nickname. Some sailor probably thought they were soooo funny...anyway, considering how much the Dalcas' information on the other zakona was worth to Czajka, this could get us a great deal of sway if we act fast. We can get bounty information on anyone before anyone else. We'd just need someone who can track them down. Any of you interested?” Glug spoke up at last. “Yeah…I’m a tracker,” he said. “Gimme the info, and I’ll find them. Take them out, too.” Time to not be selfish…he might take a small portion of each bounty, but he didn’t need much upon which to live. So the rest would go to the group as a whole. “As to other matters,” he continued. "We want Bacek out of prison and on our side, yes? Why not have her help us take down the Gentlemen? Or better yet, work on two fronts: removing the Gentlemen might gain us some allies here, and with Bacek at our disposal, we could more easily move against Krupin. The only ones to really worry about then would be the local mafia...right? Or what about the Dalca Brothers? How influential are they here, really? "But if we can get rid of the Gentlemen, that would be one less obstacle. Cascadia's the only one treading on Bacek's forces, but the last thing we want is the Gentlemen getting in our way once things start happening. So yes...we need information on the Gentlemen so that we can get them out of the way. At the same time, an operation to free Bacek and reunite her with her forces must be conducted. When everything's set, we should go after the Gentlemen. That'll endear us to the locals, perhaps even Czajka, whom people around here seem to respect enough not to piss her off." Another thing came up as well - the issue of purchasing the local potion shop and hiring the vampire who ran it as well as the minotaur who guarded it. Glug puffed on his cigar, not saying a word. He had no interest in any kind of potion shop, as he had no stake in alchemy or anything like it, so he had no reason to give up any of his hard-earned money for that. The mention of the spring came up as well; it seemed that the water in Nine Angels was filthy and people either collected rainwater to drink or else made a journey through the Dark District to the only clean water in the area. That was definitely a possibility…taking that, maybe even recruiting local gangs - someone else’s suggestion - could give them an unprecedented advantage here. If they remained at least somewhat organized and managed to take the spring for themselves, they’d have one abyss of a hook into pretty much anyone that wanted clean water when it wasn’t raining. So when the meeting came to an end, Glug spoke briefly with Tanya to get an immediate lead on his first bounty. Then he left to bed down for the night. The next day, he set out before the sun had fully risen. He drew upon the information that he knew already and the information that Tanya had given him to track the bounty. Upon his return, he retrieved the bounty and then sought Tanya for the next one. OOC
Edited by Glug Photall, Tue Oct 18, 2016 5:50 pm.
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| Storyteller[ST] | Tue Oct 18, 2016 11:21 pm Post #142 |
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Lorica You go with Zuraw to visit Two-Claws Stanimir, the local arms dealer. After tracking him down, you make it to his office. Zuraw tenses upon sight of him. Lorica, have you ever seen a Gloomwood beastkin before? He's a white-faced opossum, but not in the kind of clean, fluffy, animal-walking-on-two-legs way. His body proportions are so wrong that his hands almost brush the ground and his steps are more of a lope than a walk. He keeps his shoulders hunched and too-long neck tucked in. Patches of fur cling to his ratty tail. His skull shape is that of an opossum, but his black gums are far too crowded with needle-teeth. The white fur on his cheeks has grown out into a shag almost evoking human facial hair. Bone spurs form ridges of spikes along his backbone, stretching his clothing. Stanimir's eyes are pale green and a bit unsettlingly human compared to the rest of him. Then there's the scars. One of his hands is chopped apart, pieces of fingers missing, leaving only two with the claws intact. The exposed fur around his clothing is peppered with bare patches of scar tissue. "Oh, heh heh, you came to the right place if you're looking for silver." His lip twitches, making his whiskers quiver. He has a thick Bridgetongue accent. "Don't worry, Lorica. Your little secret is safe with me. Money is money, even if from zakona." The unspoken platitude: happy, trusting customers are also repeat customers. Two-Claws' attempt to reassure you is coupled with a baring of the teeth like a smile. "Now what kind of silver armament are we looking at? And what dilution of silver?" Lorica, you learn the following about silver weapons. You and Zuraw also take it upon yourselves to share this information with the rest of the Pariahs. Information - Silver Weapon Purchasing Alexandra You're riding on a noisy, visible device alone through the Dark District in order to reach the spring. You reach it unharmed and without being accosted by anyone, but you get the distinct feeling you're being watched. You're about halfway to your next destination before horsemen swarm out from the nearby streets: a half-dozen all riding bareback. The apparent leader is a teen-aged girl with silver eyes and deformed feathered wings. She starts talking to you in Bridgetongue, but sees that you can't understand and flips to broken, mispronounced Common. "Our water. Stay away. Since these two nights, it is Outer Street Paladins. This is one warning." Another highwayman issues a demand to his boss in Balefire's official language, but the winged girl just waves her hand and says something reassuring to him. She turns her eyes back to you. "If you or friends come back, we will hurt. Do not forget." Anci The enkaida abides by your request to wait. As you finish your shift, one of your co-workers remarks that Gigantius the Man-Eating Enkaida is being a lot more alert than usual. When you return later in the night, Gigantius is leaning with its face pressed between the bars, looking utterly defeated. It perks up upon seeing you. "Friend. Didn't lie. They always. Lied. So happy. Happy." When you let it out it darts out, coiling and uncoiling as it shifts its weight back and forth excitedly. You remind it to calm down -- a good call. You also tell it that people are going to be looking for it, so it can't go to the water. It needs to hide. When you extend a hand, you shake its big bear-like paw. "Friend. Anci. Hello. Drote. Cliffwatcher enkaida. I am. Cliffwatcher Drote." [Cliffwatcher Drote has joined your posse.] Information Gathering - Tian Your search for information on the Quiet Road is, oddly enough, as arduous as the efforts of your allies to subjugate local gangs. You're being forced to put together snippets of hearsay and separate legend from reality. And when it's all said and done, your search brings you to an unlikely location. The Church of the Infinity Flame is a modest stone building. At the center is a thirty-foot tower where a bright red torch is ever-burning, even in the area's infamously bad weather. Have you ever heard of this religion, Tian? It used to be considered a cult, but has picked up momentum recently, especially in the greater Gloomwood region. They're monotheists who worship an abstract concept called the Infinity Flame, sometimes equated to the Elemental Plane of Fire itself. It is a god of longevity, warmth, hospitality, hope, trust, and responsible use of power. The kind of god a place like this needs most. Operating on your intel, you enter the church and ask to see a friar named Garmeaux. The priests are not surprised by the name and are quick to usher you down a spiral staircase and into the bowels of the church. You reach a torchlit chamber with nothing but a table and some chairs. On the back wall is a thick iron door reinforced with steel beams. It groans open and a man in a crimson robe, mantle and flatbrim walks out. He looks human -- except for his head, which is that of a black-backed jackal. Istani language characters are printed in white paint against his cheeks and forehead, but he wears no finery. He folds his dark brown hands in front of him, assessing you. "My routes are almost full as it is. What do you want?" [You can now interview Friar Garmeaux. Post IC questions either in a reply in this topic or in Discussion if you'd like to do some mid-round RPing. ST makes 1 IC post in Discussion every day until the next round.] Footpad Confrontation - Yurim and Keter You express a need for the map of Nine Angels to be redrawn to better suit the Pariahs' uses. Zuraw interprets that rhetorical as an order and nods. You all will be receiving her version of the Nine Angels map later on. You run out to town to do some errands. You buy some new duds -- always good to look presentable! Nine Angels doesn't seem to have a public bath, but it has the next-best thing: a public sauna. You grab a bucket of water and a scrubber and enter a dark, hot, steamy room. The other men in the sauna keep to themselves. Warm, clean and ready for action, you take to the streets with Keter in search of petty criminals to subjugate. In a town like this, that doesn't take you long. You're ambushed by a group of toughs carefully hidden in the shadows of an alleyway, but you turn it around and issue them an offer. They either need to work for you or get the crap beaten out of them. "Yeah, right," one of them says to your claims. You can hear the nerves under their attempt at bravado. "If that was true, we'd have recognized you." The ones who aren't speaking are looking at you intently, Yurim. You've seen it so many times before. The way someone looks when they're about to run. "What about him?" Another points to you, Keter. A few look between each other, muttering about boxing. Keter, you take this time to add to Yurim's offer with an even more diplomatic plea. One of them mutters a curse. Now everyone's looking to one person in the gang: the apparent leader. He grumbles. "Okay. Fine. We don't want no trouble. But if you screw us over, we're out of here." And with that, the Pariahs have scored some footpads -- with no bloodshed, even. "What are you gonna do with us? Who are you people, anyway?" Spring Visit - Anci, Drote Since you were likely warned by Alex about the Outer Street Paladins horse gang, you lie low for a bit and wait for a good opportunity to visit the spring under their noses. For a horse gang, they're not very numerous, just aggressive and mobile. Their claim to the spring in question strikes you as more of a "Because I said so" -- the same kind of weak possession-by-force the Pariahs themselves are attempting, though hopefully more effectively in their case. Drote the enkaida walks alongside you using an undulating gait of its whole long body. It's not very fast on land, about as fast as you. You also bring support in the form of a summoned creature, adding to your numbers. "Protect. Friend. Anci," Drote instructs your summon. As it is, the presence of the enkaida and the otherworldly creature alone is enough to deter most people in the Dark District who might have otherwise started crap with you. This same deterrent, unfortunately, also makes you more visible. Drote is spotted a couple times. The enkaida starts to lead the way. You pass through some ruins before entering a trail marked with broken stone steps. The sides of the trail are sloping and covered in dark blue moss. "Water. Water. Water." You can tell Drote is excited even though it can only speak in a labored monotone. It bounds up several steps at a time until the trail cuts next to a small drainage creek leading downhill toward the Wine River. At the very top of this: a crack in the rocks where water is flowing out into a pool. Drote jumps in. It's too big, so it has to slither and coil and wriggle around to get it whole body wet. "Water. Happy." Once it's satisfied, it leaps out soaking-wet and makes no attempt to shake itself off. Drote looks south. "More. Water. Underground-- caves." Gang Attack - Lorica, Alexandra, Mira, Zuraw Lorica, you initiate the interception of a local gang. Ansgar isn't able to join you, since he's busy guarding the Pariahs' new territory acquisition. This gang of footpads is different from the one Yurim took on alone. It's more numerous than you expected, and filled with young non-humans too confident in their racial abilities. You tell them that they're going to join you, either the easy way or the hard way. The two boys in front scoff, but before they can answer Mira adds some attempt at economic logic. They look confused by the specialized money-related vocabulary, which delays their response even more. The group steps so they're closer together, watching all of you. "You think we've never had some people wave around a blade at us?" says one of the boys in the front. "You don't scare us, human. Neither do the rest of you. So either back off, outsiders, or find out what it's like to fight people who've lived here our whole lives." Thugs in the background start to crack their knuckles and brandish scavenged weapons. You're outnumbered three-to-one. Fewer people than you thought ended up joining you in this endeavor. The fight starts. Your enemies make a particular racket of it, hollering as loud as they can and drumming their weapons against makeshift shields. The reason is clear within the minute; you hear hoofbeats. More shouting in Bridgetongue, a language neither Lorica nor Alexandra understand, accompanies the appearance of a half-dozen horsemen around the battle. Their apparent leader is the same teen-ager with deformed wings you met earlier, Alexandra. Holy energy is already crackling off her sword in fractal blasts, hitting the ground. The horsemen encircle your forces, slamming into your rear. Zuraw stays close to Alexandra, brandishing her claws but not attacking. She might be waiting for an order on whether to kill or spare these opponents. [All but the leader of the Outer Street Paladins is fodder.] Alchemy Shop - Tanya, Carmen, Ansgar "You... y-you'd give this place a chance? Even me?" The vampire's shock is clear in her voice and demeanor. "T-to be honest, I-I was a little scared... the sun sounds t-terrifying. Oh, wh-what was I even thinking? Setting up shop as a newcomer in Cascadia? I'd end up in the slums. Th-thank you, Madame Tanya. My name is Farethi Kaczka." [You've acquired new territory for your faction. This business will generate passive income.] You ask her to take you to her workshop, which is in the back. She explains all the equipment she has and some of the methods she uses to create her concoctions. It's everything you already know [Your Alchemy skill cannot increase above Master], but still good to know. The setup is not bad for Nine Angels, but a bit limited. "You're w-welcome to anything," she says. "Boss." Carmen, you've been nominated to manage the store. Farethi is effectively your employee. Whenever she's unavailable, you have the option to either cover for her or close the shop. At the moment, you're covering for her. Ansgar is hanging out just inside the entrance. He's wearing a new greatcoat over his fancy shirt and trousers. Since his antlers prevent him from wearing a flatbrim, he's taken to obscuring his identity as much as he can with a bulky scarf wrapped around his shoulders and the entire bottom half of his face. After some time in silence, the draconid speaks. "You're not like the others in our group. The way you speak, the way you carry yourself... it reminds me more of my countrymen in Abnathea than one of the locals. Where are you from? And what got you into this mess?" Bounties - Glug Glug, you definitely head out before the sun has fully risen because the sun never rises in this place. There's an occasional glimpse of the stars and moon between strips of choking blackness, but that's it. Using Tanya's enchanted poster, you pull up the wanted listing for a zakona last spotted in Nine Angels. The bounty is [3 money], which you hope is low enough that there won't be much competition. You set out into the city completely alone. It's not as easy as you expect. Not by a long shot. While you might be imagining a quick capture and return and then asking Tanya for another, that's not how it looks like it's going to go down. The streets you walk are crowded. Someone's dragging a bounty down the street, and two others are breaking into an abandoned house to flush out the homeless people bedded down there in hopes of one of them being a zakona. A double-decker Wine River Transport Company wagon turns a sudden corner and would have run you over if you hadn't stepped aside. As you continue tracking, you keep bumping up against the same couple bounty hunters over and over. Then all three of you converge on the same woman. She thought she was hidden in plain sight in the Traveler's District, among the dregs just outside the Bartosz & Broz Circus. (The circus is in chaos, but you're not worried about that right now). While your competition descends on the zakona at the same time, you're accosted by an additional two bounty hunters. One aims a net-shooter at you while another straight-up tries to spear you through the gut. If you fight back, so will they. "Glug Photall?!" one of your competition bounty hunters screams from a little down the street. He abandons his former quarry completely, yielding it to the other hunter, and turns on you too. [Not a single bounty hunter in Cairns is fodder unless/until otherwise stated.]
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| Arthur | Fri Oct 21, 2016 12:03 am Post #143 |
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Arthur had stayed back in the castle instead of going with any of the others At least for awhile. He cleaned his weapons and armor while he waited in his own little corner. Then after awhile he got bored. It was not like him to stay in place for any length of time. So he stood gathered his weapons put them in the pocket dimension. He would not be needing them right now or so he hoped. Arthur shapeshifted into a small fly dragon with black scales. He knew it was ill advised to go out alone but he was tiny enough and quick enough to stay out of the way of people. So he took off from the top of the castle and soared building to building using them for cover. While he did so he kept an eye and ear out for anything that might pertain to them and Castle. It was easy enough to hang below a window or on top of a chimney and gathered anything that might prove necessary to them. No one seemed to notice the small thing that darted here and there. Soon he needed rest and decided to land on a very large chimney. He was in the Light District that he knew. But exactly where he was unsure. He would return to Castle by dark but for now he would rest and catch his breath. |
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| Glug Photall | Fri Oct 21, 2016 12:06 am Post #144 |
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Even with all his skill at remaining undetected, he had somehow been detected. Perhaps those hunters were using means other than those mundane ones available to Glug. He turned and disappeared into the crowd quickly, slouching and using the crowd to conceal his route. Thinking fast and hard, he wondered...the barrier between planes was said to be thinner in and around Balefire and the Gloomwood; he wondered whether the barrier was just as thin in and around Nine Angels. After all, there was the Dark District to consider. But making deals with a plane of existence...that didn’t sound...safe... Still, he'd obviously been too long away from the goblin cities in which he was raised - far too long. He'd messed up. He couldn’t go back to the Castle; that would lead the hunters to the other pariahs, which meant that vengeance would never come. Even if he wasn't the one to execute it - and he'd love to be - he could probably settle for Kir Lantos being humiliated and destroyed by someone else. That wouldn't happen if he endangered the other pariahs. No, he was running out of options quickly. The odds were severely against him, even armed as he once more was. He wondered... So...ethereal. Well...time to take the plunge. Bad situation. Heh. Never much been one for praying. Doubt you even really exist the way others claim you do...but if so...I wonder if there's a way you could help me out here. Can't lead these fools to the pariahs...no way to get a bounty here...limited inventory...running out of options quick. He only hoped this wasn’t going to cost him something vital that he couldn’t get back... He recalled all too well his times in the goblin cities. Even after being separated from his fellow greenskins and forced to enter a life of survival in a hostile world, he had returned years after that - just another goblin in the mix. Nobody knew him; nobody recognized him. But he was a goblin, and that was all that mattered. It was an attempt to return home, a place where he could belong. He’d found the goblin cities to be even more dangerous than the odds that he’d somehow beat. Yet beating the odds hadn’t made him feel at home in those cities. Still, maybe he could beat the odds again…but if there was a little help, it would be a lot easier. He wasn’t a child anymore. He had options now - even if he didn’t necessarily like them. The Ethereal Plane slipped under Glug’s skin like frozen tendrils caressing his soul. It wanted to know what Glug wanted so that it could help Glug get what he wanted. Did Glug have a specific question, desire or target? If not, Glug could settle on his original "help me out here" - but such loose intent might be dangerous. Glug got the distinct feeling that the chill dancing up and down his spine had nothing to do with the breeze off the river. Need a way to get rid of these bounty hunters...maybe make them forget they ever saw me, and prevent them from ever seeing me again. If I'm here, they've gotta suspect the others are here as well. Can't take on four at once; don't like the odds. But maybe if the odds were more in my favour... What say you, ethereal? I don't know what kind of offer you can make, aside from information...and information wouldn't help me much right now. The Ethereal…it wanted something from him…something specific…a memory…a traumatic one. He wasn’t comfortable with that. But if those bounty hunters caught up to him, he wouldn’t be comfortable with very much at all for very long. He tossed it about in his mind for a moment or three, moving through the crowd and the alleys to get away from them. Finally, he came to a decision. He didn’t like it, but it seemed that the Ethereal Plane was somehow willing to help him, after all. A traumatic memory… He recalled it at once, as though it was there all the time, just waiting to rise to the surface. He recalled the wholesale slaughter, the fire, the death…recalled the raid, the attempt to take all that gold. The noblewoman had been asking for it, bossing everyone in her own party around. Everyone wanted to show her that they weren’t there just for her to treat them horribly, yet none dared lay a finger against her. He didn’t even remember who it was - some random noblewoman moving from one place to another with all her gold and finery and possessions… The greenskins struck fast and hard, yet they hadn’t expected such a stout resistance from so few people. They had three times their number, and yet, the humans were fighting back. He was too young to fight…really fight…he was just given a dagger and told to stab any humans that found him. He’d been a scout…but the humans were fighting back on an epic scale. Then one of them found Glug. He recalled the struggle, the way the knife was knocked aside, a sword stabbing him in the side…and then in the shoulder…and then narrowly missing his skull. The fight was over. He was picked up and thrown in a cage…the noblewoman and most of her coterie were dead. They were taking him somewhere…where, he didn’t know…his life waning, blood spilling out between the bars…weak…desperate… Some city. They pulled him out, and that’s when he launched himself at one of them, taking his nose off with his teeth. There was a scream, but he bit into the arm of the other one. He ran. They hounded him, chasing him through the woods…he managed to elude, them, but he didn’t know for how long. He fell into the spring…and was unconscious… Looking back on it now, he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to find the spring again. He’d awoken hours later, starving, thirsty, and desperate - but his wounds had healed, or were close enough to healed that he didn’t even really feel them. It had been the beginning of his desperate struggle for survival. He’d raised himself after that, somehow beating the odds and surviving well into adulthood. He recalled that memory now. It was the reason, years later, that he had founded Glughob - along with other experiences thereafter, of course. But that was the incident that had set him on that path. He still didn’t fully understand everything that happened…why he’d been taken instead of left for dead, for example. But it didn’t matter. That traumatic enough for you, ethereal? OOC
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| Lorica | Fri Oct 21, 2016 2:27 am Post #145 |
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Lorica laughed as the cavalry arrived (literally), Balefire horses encircling her small party. The Keeper was in the process of knocking one of the youths to the ground. She calmly ducked underneath the strike of a horseman. Her eyes went to the one who appeared to be in command, a waif with twisted wings and silver eyes. Her blade sparked with holy energy, briefly reminding her of Keelin. She shoved thoughts of the angel hunter at bay and focused on the task at hand. “Oh, are you in charge, then?” She grinned widely. If the disadvantage in numbers worried her there was no sign of it. “See, I was kind of hoping to run across someone more important than these fools. I thought I’d have to break a few bones before they went running for mommy; thanks for saving me the trouble.” She pointed a curved, serrated knife at the winged girl. It hummed softly. “These men are yours, right? Prove that you deserve them.” Her lips were pulled back in a feral grin. “Have a duel with me… Unless you’re scared.” Duel: Lorica vs. the Paladin Lorica stood over the defeated angelborn, her expression cold. With the duel over the rest of the gang members were starting to edge forward, no longer respecting the one-on-one fight. Despite the encroaching threat Lorica couldn't look away from the girl with the twisted wings. She was huddled, frightened, scared. The Keeper felt a pang of sympathy. She knew that she could end this threat right now, cementing her domination over the waif… But she couldn’t. It was like looking in a mirror, just like how she’d felt upon first seeing Zuraw. Lorica continued to ignore the other gang members, settling down on her haunches. She reached out, picked up the girl’s weapon, and pressed the hilt of the short sword into the girl’s nearest hand, forcing her fingers to curl around it. Then she gripped her the girl by her armpits and bodily hauled her to her feet, making sure she was stable before letting go. She would still be splattered in mud, but very much alive… and armed by Lorica’s own hand. She was hoping they would recognize the gesture: you don’t arm your enemies. “This is the hard way,” she told the rest, raising her voice. “I beat you down, then I pick you up. That’s how you grow stronger.” She rolled the shoulder that had taken the brunt of the holy energy, the fabric charred. “I might be new in town, but I know that people don’t give you the respect you deserve. Don’t mock her. She was the strongest of you. She deserves respect. All of you do.” “We’ll give it to you. We’re gonna leave a mark on this town.” Her cheeks pulled back in a feral grin. “I’ll give you one more chance to join up. Or the first mark I’m gonna make on Nine Angels is the impressions your skulls will leave when I crush them into the mud.” If they didn’t fold, she would be more than willing to follow through on her threat. The angelborn didn’t look to be in any state to stop her from smacking around the rest of the youths. Regardless of her success with the rest of the youths, Lorica offered to buy the angelborn a drink. She took the girl up to the Howling Dogs, leading the waif over to Czajka's table. Lorica was suddenly aware of the scratches around her eyes, but she didn't particularly care. She still had all her body parts, so she didn't think the bounty hunter would be too angry. OOC Conversation with the Paladin (Czajka translating) Lorica’s face split in a genuine smile. “Good, good. I’d feel pretty shitty for just stealing your gang out from under you. I’ll take you to where we’re squatting in a bit.” She waited for Neriah to excuse herself to use the privy before leaning close to Czajka. “What’d ya say to her, Bookworm? I better not find out you twisted her arm. I meant it when I said I’m not trying to take advantage of her. I won’t be a part of that, not even if it’s because I can’t understand a word you just said to her.” Her eyes smoldered with anger, and something more, something sharp and wrong. “I told her joining you would be a good idea.” Lorica went silent, simply staring at the bounty hunter. Eventually she nodded and threw her drink back, draining it. “Thank you,” she muttered, too softly for any eavesdroppers to hear. When she spoke next it was with genuine cordiality. “I owe you one Bookworm. You seem to want to do right by these people. Don’t try to stab me in the back and I’ll offer you the same courtesy.” She spied the Paladin working her way back across the common room and stood up. “Oh, and Czajka… If joining us is such a good idea, I would recommend you do the same.” She chuckled and threw another wad of notes on the table. “Have another drink on me. Don’t lean too close to the text. It’s bad for your eyes.” She waved at the angelborn. “Come along then, Flappy. You ruined my clothes, so I have to go shopping. We can clean you up too.” Lorica hit one of the general stores for clothing. She picked up a long-sleeved tunic, trousers, then a fur-lined vest, boots, and gloves. To this she added a thick overcoat with a mantle hanging over her shoulders. She told Neriam to pick out new clothes too, if she wanted them (using the proprietor as a translator if necessary). Instead of putting the garb on immediately she took them to the public saunas, taking the opportunity to scrub the reek of the backswamps off so it wouldn’t immediately permeate her new clothes. The only thing she kept from the barge was her flatbrim. She’d grown fond of the headgear. Clean and better-dressed, she returned to the Castle with Neriam in tow. Lorica introduced the girl to anyone around the hangout. “Neriam here is one of us now. She only really speaks Bridgetongue, so keep that in mind.” She nodded to the angelborn waif. “She apparently has quite the mouth on her, so don’t get offended if she calls you something unsavory. Czaka positively blushed when she was translating earlier.” She turned to Neriam. “Go ahead, pick a room. You can bring anything you want here, or anything you steal.” She spoke slowly, enunciating each word clearly to help the waif understand what she was saying. After Neriam settled in she took the girl to visit their first acquisition, a small apothecary shop that Tanya, Carmen, and Ansam had taken hold of. Lorica didn’t need any alchemicals, but she knew Carmen could translate the slippery Bridgetongue patois. She repeated the round of introductions, letting the Pariahs meet their newest minion. “Yo, Prissy, mind helping me out here? I’d appreciate some help talking to Flappy here.” They settled in for a conversation. “Alright, so you said being mounted is important with the Dark District gangs? How can we get mounts? I’m not very good with horses… Will any sort of mount do?” She pursed her lips. She wasn’t super familiar with the fauna in Gloomwood. All she really knew was that the animals tended to be sensitive to light and had developed hunting behaviors dependent on the Ethereal plane. “Could you help me find a good animal to use? And, uh, help teach me how to ride it?” She wasn’t too ashamed of the admission she wasn’t much of a rider. There was only so much time in the day; she couldn’t be good at everything. Edited by Lorica, Fri Oct 21, 2016 2:27 am.
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| Keter | Fri Oct 21, 2016 5:30 am Post #146 |
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The Black Monkey marked up how well the encounter went to the edge of notoriety. The offer was little more than what his fellow Zakona had offered up, but rewording in a more rewarding way, turned to seem like it was a better deal than it might end up being without any grand promises. Either way, it got a small group of footpads out of their way, and even better it gave them a new resource to utilize. Of course it was still a sudden shift for the small group, going from a normal night of thuggery, to an encounter with a readied mark, to making a deal with a boxer who had only worked a few nights but had shown some frightening skill in a fight. They could be out-thugged by just two men, and they were having to gamble on a deal with strangers. "Okay. Fine. We don't want no trouble. But if you screw us over, we're out of here." The Leader-Apparent said, "What are you gonna do with us? Who are you people, anyway?" "Screwing you over would make this a waste of time." Keter assured the footpads, "You can call me Monkey. What should we call you?" "We don't have a name. We're just a group of friends." The commander of the footpads responded. "Well, 'Friends', we are your new bosses." Keter replied, "We'll give you orders, and you'll follow our orders, and you'll be rewarded finer than with your little ambushes. We need help that you'll provide us, and you'll need training that we'll provide you. It's a very simple trade of time, effort, and if all goes well, money." Fear was simple, employment was easy, but loyalty would be trickier. Fortunately loyalty was not something quick to earn, so while planning for it could start as soon as possible, it would be rather distant from an immediate concern. What was an immediate concern would be bounties and bounty hunters, shadows help anybody who was foolish enough to put themselves in the crosshairs of bounty hunters. At least Keter's getup could aid somewhat in anonymity with his otherwise average silhouette obfuscated slightly by shadows, which just made him look even more normal in the land of darkness. "For now, keep your heads down, your ears to the shadows, and your eyes on outsiders. When you next meet one of us, tell us about anything interesting you've come across, and don't try to attack anybody until we tell you otherwise." Keter suggested to the footpads, trying to consider extending their short lifespan at least until the Wine River Pariahs were done with them, "It's getting too dangerous to cause trouble right now, but we'll teach you how to work around that safely in time." "Anything you'd like to add?" Whispered by a trick not of light but of sound to the ear of his companion on the other side of the footpads. OOC
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| Tian | Fri Oct 21, 2016 10:51 am Post #147 |
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He was ill at ease in churches, of course. He knew very well what many religions considered to be gods, and couldn't help but disapprove of it. After all, the so-called gods tended to end up being quasi-deified beings like himself, only much more powerful and much, much more likely to use their power over those who were weaker than them. He wasn't at all surprised that all of the information he had carefully picked up and strung together had led him to a place like this. He made his way inside, and followed the directions given. Conversation with Friar Tuck He made his way from the Church, and as soon as the first deep darkness enveloped him in its embrace, he vanished. But he did not go very far, not very far at all. Just into the darkness surrounding the castle. And he sat, and thought for a very long time. Something needful, notoriety, or a job done. A job done would be freeing Bacek herself, of course, but it was a daunting task if the organization headed by Bacek had failed as yet to succeed. But it was something needful. And it might be as stupid as trying to take on the Gentlemen too early. In truth, he did not like what he was about to do. All of his encounters with the nameless creature, nay, realm, had been sour and unfulfilling at best. But, short of actually going to the colony - a risk - he could not know. Emptying his ageless mind, he quested for the darkness. After all, the shadows were much like a lover of his, comforting and mysterious. Unwillingly, he opened his thoughts to the Etherial. He kept his guard up, because he did not trust what he did not understand. I know you are listening. I know you never go away. I know you wait...hungering... I want to know what it would take to have a chance at succeeding where yon Friar and his cohorts have failed. Retrieving Bacek, and beginning the real work of bringing Kir Lantos and his posse of putrid pups down a peg or thirty... It was listening. Did it ever stop? The choices were bleak, of course. As he knew they would be. He could give up his flesh - now, wouldn't that make the Ethereal happy? The flesh of, for lack of a better word, and immortal. Even if he wasn't all powerful, that was still a steep trade. His belongings were another thing, too. As were his skills. He could hardly part with the tools of his trade, especially considering the circumstances he was now in. Tian considered carefully, and very nearly refused the offered deal yet again...only, he knew they needed this. And he burned for the cause of retribution. Very few people who had thrown him under a cart in the past few centuries had ended up having a pleasant experience out of the deal, and a smug prick like Lantos wasn't going to be one of the rare exceptions. You, ....sir?... are an unbelievable bastard. But I need this information. We need it. Burn me for a fool, but... And he took a trip down the long hall of memory lane. A memory stolen... There was no physical pain associated with the loss of the memory. Tian did not shed a tear, though he felt like it, as that special recollection of a better time slowly burned away like it was fog in a summer sun. No, no physical pain, but it twisted him inside worse than being stabbed in the back would have. The moment of anguish was temporary of course; the memory was replaced by knowledge, and it was very useful knowledge. He couldn't recall what it was he felt so horrible about, now, but echoes of sorrow still dwelt within his mind as he headed back to the Castle under cover of darkness. He would relay this information to his companions. If any of them pressed to hard where he had come by it, he would cut them. A lot. |
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| Mobster Man | Fri Oct 21, 2016 2:03 pm Post #148 |
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Yurim had to admit, Keter was not half bad at recruiting these low-ranked mobsters, but when they said they were a group of friends... Yurim felt a memory stir. He remembered his own friends back when he was a Guild Rat... a child thief having to pay protection money to a thieve's guild. Luke, Sharky, Gerald... and himself, all Guild Rats that became big names... for all of two months. Luke lost a hand and his life when he tried to use his blade in his offhand, Gerald had tried to sell out Sharky, Sharky killed Gerald, lost a lung, and was now so off his rocket on Devil Dust that the limping shark-man swore to kill Yurim before dying. He was taken out of his memory when Keter spoke to the crew and nodded, "Yeah, we can train you to be better informants, thieves, and improve your ambush tactics. We can get thugs and bashers anywhere, we need people that can get us information, so you're it. As for me... call me Hasenka." Half-Shadow... heh, it would work for now, but once they saw him in his One Shadow getup they'd probably recognize him, or at least he hoped they did, it'd be quite the blow to his pride if people hadn't at least heard of the One Shadow. Yurim stepped into the nearest Shadow, "And remember, just because you can't see us, doesn't mean we can't see you." With that he sank into the shadow, his eyes meeting theirs, he to used his Shadowdancer skill to speak to Keter as he sank into the shadows. "See you back at Castle." ___________________________________________________________________ When he arrived Tian shared some information and Yurim found it... a bit disturbing. One was obvious, the other... not so much to Yurim. He clicked his tongue as he shared the fact that Keter and himself had recruited some thieves for spy work and information gathering, they should at least know that the Monkey had helped, they needed to focus on the Alpha Werewolf, not a monkey. |
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| Carmen | Fri Oct 21, 2016 3:59 pm Post #149 |
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"You're not like the others in our group. The way you speak, the way you carry yourself... it reminds me more of my countrymen in Abnathea than one of the locals. Where are you from? And what got you into this mess?" Carmen smiled gently at Ansgar, glad that he finally broke the silence that had lingered over the storefront for far too long. She beckoned him closer and waved an open hand at a cushioned stool sturdy enough to bear his considerable weight. "You are right, you know," she said, her eyes drifting from Ansgar to the windowpane, her focus distant. She rested her elbows on the countertop, arms together, and made a cup with her hands, in which she rested her chin. "I am not like them. I have tried, for a long time now, to live among people like these. I have tried to be one of them. But I am not very good at it, I think. I wanted to get used to this lifestyle. I even lived in a cave in the northern reaches for a time, but I couldn't make it last. It's a product of my upbringing. I was. . . I am. . .too. . ." Spoiled ". . .refined," she said. Then she turned her head away and down, and whispered "Be quiet," seemingly to herself. Carmen looked up at Ansgar again, her warm expression returned. Her eyes glided over his striking features and his bulk, trying to imagine how he might better fit in with the general population. "I am from Taras," she said in answer to his question. She couldn't be quite sure why, but she trusted this man from afar, more so than she did several of the other Pariahs, especially Keter, whose treachery had eventually become known to her. "I grew up in Castile county. As for this mess. . .I fell into this because of. . . family ties," she said, playing her cards close to the chest. Her growing trust in Ansgar was still not much more than a seedling. It would need nurturing before it flowered. "And you? You are from Abnathea. I've met the Emissary, Liksa Baugot. I helped her once, months ago. I'll tell you about it, if you’d like." ((Carmen recounted the events of The Congressional Gala, from her perspective, to Ansgar, if he's interested in a story.)) "Ah! Yes, Ambassador Baugot! Believe it or not, we are from the same home town. A border town with Rejevi, devastated by war. We all did our part, I think." The draconid looked wistful for a few seconds. "I would love to hear your experience with her. As you can see, I have plenty of time to chat." He listened to Carmen's regaling of the gala-turned-murder-mystery with intense interest. "What an exciting story! Do not worry about your refinement, Carmen. I think it's a blessing, not a curse. Even in a place like this, I trust you'll adapt without losing your quintessential self." Ansgar gestured to the practical garb she was wearing as a way of illustrating his point. "Who knows. If we can climb this ladder of influence to the top, you'll be able to put that Tarasian upbringing to good use as you select only the finest goods for our... castle." He chuckled. "All these ruffians will thank you for the pointers." Carmen watched Ansgar carefully as he reflected on his past. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened in their town, how they had coped, and what circumstance had led Liksa to prosperity and him to Nine Angels. "Tell me something," she said, her eyes soft, almost vulnerable. "Do you miss it? Your home, I mean." "I do. In spite of everything that has happened, I do." After he'd answered, her expression went somber and she looked to the window again. "I didn't miss mine. Not for a long time. Or at least, I didn't think that I missed it. But I wonder now, these past few days, if that is entirely true. My father taught me how to lie. He taught me so well, I think I lied to myself, and I've been doing it ever since I left. I don't want to see him, but the rolling fields, the orchards, the forest, the vineyard. . . it was all so verdant. Warm and fertile. The towns flourishing. The land so beautiful. I look around Nine Angels, and it is as if my home were turned upside down. This place is cold, harsh and unforgiving. I have not seen my home in a long time. I don't think I am ready yet, but someday I will return. I have to." The look in Ansgar's eyes was sympathetic. He nodded, staying quiet, letting her think. She turned back to him, refocusing on his face, a smile returning to hers. "I will decorate your room first, if you'd like," she said, her voice much more merry than a moment before. "Hah! Glad to hear." "If I might ask you another question, and please tell me if I pry too much, but I don't want to see talent wasted. Is this, being my bodyguard, what you are best suited for? I do not mean to offend; if you are a skilled warrior, I respect that absolutely, but if you think you have gifts or abilities best used elsewhere, please don't hesitate to let me know." "I am not above shift work," Ansgar said, "it's definitely better than my... 'profession' before Balefire. However, please know that if you ever enter a situation where the enemies are powerful and the odds are stacked against you, I would like to be there. Every day I'm searching for a way to achieve death, and I think I can fulfill that goal by continuing to follow the Wine River Pariahs. Not because I think you'll all screw up and get us killed -- it's because I think you'll be able to use your actions to bring me closer to the most dangerous enemies in this entire region. I mean it as a compliment!" "If ever I am faced with such a scenario, I too hope you are there to help, Ansgar." She looked him over and had a sudden thought. "Do you have everything you need to fight at your best? Is there some weapon or armor or equipment that we might procure for you? Our enemies ought to see your worth." Carmen didn't want to see Ansgar fall in battle. Her question was carefully posed so he might think her goal was in keeping with his. Truly, however, she wanted him to fight his best so he would live, not so he might die in glorious combat. "I need to be light on my feet whenever possible, and I already have my trusty sabre. No wants from me. Thank you for asking, though." As the day waned, Carmen closed up and locked the shop tight. She asked Ansgar to escort her to the saloon, and she stayed very close to him as they walked. Once they arrived, she brought him to Czajka's table, hoped the bounty hunter remembered him, and asked if she might take a seat. "You said to wait a few days, and then you would accept some help writing that letter," she said after she'd sat down. "I know you don't recognize my face, but the offer still stands," Carmen continued, careful not to remind Czajka of her name, or what she'd looked like before. Any hunter worth their salt would recall it regardless, she thought, but the caution gave her some measure of confidence. "Is now a good time?" She fetched the quill Tanya had provided and waited with an eager smile. |
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| Tanya | Fri Oct 21, 2016 5:44 pm Post #150 |
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The vampire, who said her name was Farethi, was thrilled by the Pariah's offer of employment, and the two alchemists headed into the back to begin work. There wasn't enough supplies or equipment in the shop for Tanya to fully restock her supply of potions, but that was hardly surprising. Some of the potions that she'd lost on the boat had taken her weeks of preparation. She began crafting a few batches of her simpler potions. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Kaczka," she said as she worked. "You know, if you'd moved to Cascadia a few months ago, you might have ended up working with me anyway. That's more or less what happened to Caedis. I'll introduce him to you when he gets here." She set aside the batch she was working on to scribble a message to on her runed sheet, telling him to meet her at the store. "How did you come to start the store here?" "I-I was born in Halasz, but my family m-moved here when I was still adolescent," Farethi said. "You'll find the locals like me d-don't travel far." Her eyes dodged around. "My, um, st-strain of vampirism is hereditary and not contagious. Just letting you know." Tanya nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you for telling me. Have you been using the blood peddlers to feed as well as for alchemy?" "Um, um, yes..." Farethi replied in response to the question about using the blood peddlers to feed. Caedis arrived at the store some time later, after Tanya had finished making her potions and moved on to picking a blood graft. "Ha! Would you look at that? Another vampire. Don't worry, Handyman, I'll call you over every time I meet a human. Or a mostly-human. Or whatever it is you are." Tanya scowled at him. "This is Farethi Kaczka. She's working for us now." Caedis grinned at the shopkeeper. "Hello, Farethi. I'd shake your hand, but Tanya made me leave mine at the Castle." Farethi gave Caedis a nervous greeting, restating her own name. "N-nice to meet you. If you n-n-need anything, let me know." "Ooh, I have a question! What would it take for you to turn on us?" The smile fell from his lips and he stared intently at the shopkeep. Tanya's first instinct was to reprimand him for harassing their new employee, but she let the sharp words die unspoken on her lips. "Actually, that's an interesting question," she said, turning to Farethi. "It's blunter than I would have put it and I don't mean to imply that you're not loyal, but the truth is we've made a lot of enemies. And some of the things we're going to have to do to fight them won't be... savoury. So we need to know now whether or not you're with us all the way." She drew up a small measure of oily blood with a syringe and injected it into one of the veins in her arm, taking a few other interesting samples for future use. She'd miss being able to heal herself more rapidly, but exhaustion was more of a threat than wounds for the time being. |
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8:40 AM Jul 11

