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Cairns on the Wine River [FIN]; [ST05][Signups Closed]
Topic Started: Sat Sep 17, 2016 1:22 pm (8,266 Views)
Mobster Man
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Yurim helped Keter find the potions and white paste, helping injured Korso. After that he snagged enough of the werewolf-cure materials as he could before returning to castle.

Yurim was not exactly pleased with all of this loud nonsense, a small gang like their own needed to stay quiet until they became big, but now... they had gone loud. Again. He listened to Czajka and smirked, "I know I gave you that book but I didn't expect it to come to this."

Yurim sighed, "Well if our little prophet ally already knew where we were then I'd wager Kir's little shadow lover will be able to sniff this place out eventually. We should probably think about getting the Gentlemen on our side instead of killing them off for their golems. Thoughts?"


Czajka chuckled at the joke. It helped her come back out of her shell a bit more. Yevhen stared at Yurim.

His stare got even more intense when the half-senka mentioned 'our little prophet ally.' Viktor raised an eyebrow, folding his arms to match Ithuen's existing body language. "Prophet? Why you guys talking in circles?"

Czajka was the one to reply to Yurim's actual concern about the Castle being discovered using the Ethereal. "Information can be buried in the Ethereal. Made more costly to pull, just like making it cheaper."

There was also the issue of making the Gentlemen their allies, not destroying them. Ithuen pushed herself back so she was balancing on the back two legs of her chair. "Hah! We'd be just as likely to win as we were against the Wolves. You'd have to duel the Halmi couple or something. And that wouldn't be easy. No sir. Am I right, blaspheme?" Viktor just grumbled.


Yurim turned for a bit, concentrating on the Ethereal, it was time to make a deal.

"Hey." Czajka gently tapped Yurim's arm to get his attention. "I don't blame you for wanting to do that, but I gotta let you know it'll start wearing on you a bit. The Shadow, I mean." She touched the scratches around her eyes to illustrate her point. "You've made a few deals already, feels like. So this'll start to harmonize you. Just scratches for now, but more if you keep up."

Yurim looked back at Czajka and nodded, "Yeah, I figured, but I need to make sure at least Castle stays quiet."

Yurim opened his mind to the Ethereal, offering to share a memory of his past, a memory of the first man he killed, the kill that started his 'No Killing' rule. The ethereal accepted and he shared his story.

I was six... maybe seven years old. My Mother had taken us to some no-name town since her parents didn't want someone like me in the house. She took up being a barmaid and at night she... well, she slept with men or women for coin. One night she was picking me up from the little schoolhouse that taught the town's children, she was a bit bruised, but she seemed fine. She told me I was going to meet my Dad today, she had told me next to nothing about him, but I was excited.

She took us through a more sinister part of town where she did her... business. That was when the man came... no, not my dad, but her last customer. He pulled her, and myself, into an alley and threw her against a wall. He called her a cheat and grabbed her neck, throwing her to the ground. He jumped on her and began to strangle her, she cried out for help... but I was terrified, to scared to move. He hid as best as I could, but I heard the man say 'Your little freak of a child is next.'

I wanted to save mom... I wanted to run, I wished my dad was there to help, and a moment later he was. I felt the shadows wrap around me and a raspy voice ring in my ear, "Margerett doesn't have much time boy. I can't interfere at the moment, but I can help you."

I don't know how it happened, but a sharpened chunk of broken pipe appeared in my hands. I felt a new urge to rush the man, stab him, keep stabbing until he was dead. I hadn't even noticed that my mother's body had stopped struggling, I didn't notice the man had let go because his work was complete, he had killed my mother. I ran out of the shadows and thrust the pipe into his back, pushing it halfway into his body. Blood ran out of the pipe and splashed against my face and chest. I took it out and stabbed again as the man cried out for mercy... I kept on stabbing, over and over as I felt the shadows themselves encourage me.

Once the man stopped moving for... I don't know how long I stopped stabbing. My dad wrapped me in his shadows and said he would take me somewhere I could thrive. I don't even know for how long I was wrapped in his shadows, but I do know I fell asleep, still covered in that man's blood.

It was done, their hideout was safer, and in exchange he felt something like a thin blade crossing his flesh around his eyes. The markings seemed random, squiggly lines with odd angles here and there, like a child's doodle. When Yurim checked himself in a small mirror he frowned, "I guess the Ethereal thinks I'm some damn kid. Freaking squiggles, really?"

With that said he put out the supplies he had taken, "If someone can make the antidote for the werewolf disease I got some supplies. Also I just made a deal to make this place harder to find through the Ethereal."

When one of the Dalcas mentioned trading Silver for Water, Yurim nodded, "I'd say that's worth it. I'm fine with it if the others are."
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Lorica
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She'd always struggled with letting go of the Wellspring. It was hard to look all that power in the face and say: no thanks, I'm good. Ever since the font's corruption it had only gotten more difficult. She was shaky and irritable, an addict going through withdrawal. Most of the physical symptoms faded by the time she and Anci returned to the Castle, but none of her anger.

Why the [removed] didn't they run?

The Pariahs were treating this like a game. They thought they could hide ugly truths with pretty words. That was a good way to get killed. She had a bone to pick with several of them. Carmen for being too naive. Tian for being too passive. Yurim for being too fickle. At the moment it seemed like her list of complaints was endless. That anger ate away at her from the inside. She knew that if she spoke as soon as she walked through the door, she would end up regretting it.

So she didn't. Lorica stayed in the periphery as outsiders converged on their hideout. Not just Czajka and Ithuen, but the Dalca brothers too. "Thanks for the assist back there," she said to the outlaws. The former Keeper huddled in one corner, her clothes still splattered with muck and blood, the bags under her eyes so dark they almost hid the black scratches. On several occasions she opened her mouth as if she wanted to speak up, but bit her tongue every time.

Eventually she could hold back no longer. "That's not the only problem we have. We have to answer a question: are we a gang, or are we just a bunch of idiots stumbling in the same direction?" She gestured at the Dalcas. "Take Chuckles and Buckles here. Their gang, their name. They make the decisions, their men follow. No questions asked, at least not in public."

"We need that sort of unity. If we react a dozen different ways every time we're threatened, we won't survive. Lantos has a pack. We have a mob."
She looked away, but her eyes were bright with anger. There was so much more she wanted to say, but starting a fight would just make her argument look weak. "Think about it. We won't have time to cast votes every time we're in danger. This can't be a democracy."

She nodded to Yevhen. "I think that's a good offer. Water for silver. We can discuss the particulars later. If you two need our help with something, let us know. I don't want it said that the Pariahs don't treat their allies well." That sort of rumor would be ruinous. Gangs thrived or died on their reputation.

"Saving Nine Angels is bigger than all of us here. Even if the Dalcas agree to help us out, we need more help. I'd be willing to duel the Gentlemen to take over their gang, but that's a crapshoot. We need to focus on who Lantos fears." She tapped the scratches around her eye sockets. "He broke an alliance with Bacek. Betrayed her, put her in Starek. I think we should try to get her out and earn ourselves a favor from the Quiet Road." Not to mention her knives were probably at the penal colony. She felt naked without at least a dozen blades hidden within easy reach. "Chuckles and Buckles, do you have anything you can tell us about her? You guys all worked together under Torsten, right?"

She turned to Korso. "You were at Starek recently, right? Could you tell us a bit more about the place?"



Lorica took the first opportunity she could to draw Zuraw aside and speak with her in private. "I take it you heard what was happening? We fought against Lantos' pack. He... He asked about you." She didn't want rumors or half-truths to reach the woman. She needed to hear it straight.

"Sparky... No, Zuraw. You're a good member of this crew. We all want you here. But you're not a slave, not an omega that has to follow orders or be punished. You can choose what you want to do. Stay with us or go back..."

"Just know I want you to stay, alright?"
She grinned sheepishly, taking the half-werewolf's hands in hers and squeezing. "'Honor myself before others,' right?" She waited to see if the knight had anything to write in response.

What did he say about me?
"He asked if you were there. Said something about your 'attunement.'" Lorica had some theories as to what the alfha was referring to. Other people didn't seem to notice the half-werewolf. The Keeper wasn't sure why she was an exception. Maybe it was because she was used to looking for people who shied away from contact, for people who tried to stay unobtrusive and out of sight. She sought out similar body language.

"The choice is yours," she repeated. "But if you stay... you have to be sure. You have to know that eventually you'll be standing on the opposite side of a battleground from Lantos... and you have to come to terms with that."



She also took the time to find Czajka later, cornering the bounty hunter alone. "I spied on you," she announced without preamble. "I shouldn't have, but I did. I was a bit annoyed with you, to be honest." She self-consciously rose a hand to the scratch marks around her eyes. "I get why that might make you hate me. More than anyone else here. I haven't told them your secrets. I won't. Your past is yours."

"Still, if we're going to be working together... I have a message for you."
She licked her lips, nervous. She had no idea how the woman would react to this. "'You are not meant to break against the ice, but you will if you don't change your life quickly.'" Thanks to her prying on Czajka, she knew that the message was meant for the bounty hunter, even if Tian and the rest of them didn't. If they wanted Bacek out of jail, this message had to be delivered.
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Carmen
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Carmen had joined the discussion fashionably late, having taken the time to properly bathe, groom, primp, dress and perfume herself. She slowly descended the spiral staircase that led to her room just in time for Czajka to indicate that it was she who had written the letter of reply. Carmen beamed and nodded to the Dalcas, happy to write their missives as well, if they would like; the last one could have certainly used her help.

The discussion bounced between topics rapidly, and even Carmen found it hard to get a word in edgewise. She simply found herself a comfortable place to sit and listen; the important questions were being asked and answered by both sides, and it wasn't until the idea of trading their water for silver came up that she finally spoke.

"That sounds like it might be an agreeable arrangement for all involved. We will have to discuss quantities and timelines, of course."

The proposal sounded like it would cost them quite a lot of water, but thankfully the Pariahs had a lot of it to offer.

"Just as important - what exactly do you mean by 'some guys who know their way around silver weapons'? Are you providing us with men? Silver weapons? Training? Forgive my confusion, but your offer is a bit too nebulous at the moment."

She reclined and poured herself a glass of wine from a nearby decanter. After taking a sip, her eyes sought our Ansgar, and she offered him a warm and gentle smile, grateful that he had survived, and for his promise to keep her secret.
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Anci
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In the fallback Anci took a longer route, stopping at Drote’s cavern for a period while Nine Angels calmed down and Lore got her strength back. Plus she wanted to check up on him, see if he needed anything. They had to go back to the Castle though, it was the obvious rally point after everyone was out of the mess.


" Mister Aufdein, what did you do at that prison?"


Code:
 

"It was horrible... I was just trying to help some people at Starek. Healing their broken backs and some other tasks. "I became upset about something, and one thing led to another until there was this huge riot. I didn't want any violence, but now Kir thinks I started it. Oh, and he's also-- he's after-- the prototype I had."



"Thank you for helping us, Dalcas. I appreciate it, they appreciate it. I do not mean to look into the maw of a horse's gift, but...why did you help us there? Is Lantos an enemy of yours?"


Code:
 

"Finally someone with some [removed]ing respect," Viktor grumbled.


Yevhen answered the question. "We saw the big flame beacon. Looked like a big deal, and it was near Howling Dogs so we went to check on everyone. Viktor thought it was the Friar making the beacon, but guess not. We stuck around because [removed] those guys."


"Let's stay focused," Viktor said. "We're not here to answer your questions."



It looked like we were not meant to do much harm. The place was growing back right after I broke it, that does not seem normal for buildings in Balefire. Only thing of note would be some blueprints? Those went missing though, who knows if they were worth anything."


Code:
 

Zuraw stepped forward, holding up a page of her notebook.


Did we not steal the blueprints ourselves? Put them in a pocket plane? I am not certain they are lost forever. The Shadow Plane works in strange ways.


"Yeah it does," Czajka grumbled softly.


I believe the blueprints were what the company needed to clinch the bid. This is just from common knowledge. Whatever they were, they would allow the company to reliably build a line through or around Norwood.


I was not privy to any of his machinations regarding the scorchline companies, scorchline barons, or anything similar.


"Sounds really important," Aufdein croaked. "Are they so important you people would kill anyone who had them? Sounds like Kir would, at least."





If it is the real thing, it would be the strongest thing we have over Lantos for now if we could get our hands on it.” She stared at Korso flatly, his phrasing seemed off. Not in the way Czajka and the locals talked with a regional dialect, but how he was using his words.


The Dalca deal of water for silver-holding hands seemed a good one at that. Maybe taking hold of some other springs or using the more hidden ones would work at giving them more to bargain with down the road.


What about a work deal too? I think we could get some people who would rather work in your mines than out here. You get some more workers and most of the silver they get, we get some of our own?


Lore’s pitch about centralizing leadership made sense...but she didn’t think it’d succeed. Trust was a rare commodity in the area, it was rarer in the pariahs she felt. She worked along with them since it was in her better interest, and she had a feeling that the story for most of the others as well. They were working with someone who had tried to sell them out right at the get go, more than a few differences on how to handle situations. Just now Glug had pushed Viktor repeatedly about silver, Anci made an effort with the same goal in mind. She pitched it as a trade in line with the water instead, but the earlier hassle over it might have put Viktor off from considering it.


Breaking up the group wasn’t a question either. They had a hard enough time together, breaking apart just raised the dangers from without and within.


Anci looked back over at Korso again. He was scared about something. The danger had passed, he was alive. They were just strangers to him though.


Why are you so tense, Mister Aufdein? Everyone here helped you. Lantos wants you dead, and anybody Lantos wants dead would be a goodly friend. You are not on the streets, you are not dying and the hunters have been put off the chase for now. So why are you so nervous, here with people that should be on the same side as you?


[Later that very same Bee]


Anci waited until she get Korso alone, approaching him with a burlap sack to kidnap him with.


"I know you do not have your products here, but I came to Balefire looking for you." She held out the sack, inside it was stuffed with every crumpled note, worn coin and tarnished bauble she had been paid, tipped or scrounged during her time in Nine Angels. It was in all practical means the sum of her worldly wealth.


"I tried to save more, but this place has a nature of misfortune. Is this enough for any of your cures? Anything to help with..." She searched for an adequate explanation in common, nothing she had learned while here seemed adequate. "Planes? To make one distant, remove it. Anything like that?"




Code:
 

[PRIVATE - KORSO]


"You poor soul. You came all the way here for me? Guess I really am... famous..." Korso trailed off with a note of sadness, looking closer at the savings. "I was working on a tonic that could remove outward signs of harmonization. A sort of colleague of mine suggested I try something that could even remove harmonization itself. That's what you mean, right? Ethereal harmonization?"



"Uh, n-" Anci cut herself short. Harmonization wasn't what she had meant, but Alex was suffering from it pretty obviously now. Lore hadn't seem to get any worse, but it was possible she's be provoked further in the future like she had been back there.


She'd survived this long, she wasn't about to burn out from the otherside anytime soon. She hoped.


"Yes! Although the removal is...untried still? What do you need? Can I help?"


Code:
 

"I'm not sure." Korso touched his chin using only his first few fingertips. "They're called 'shadow-lovers' because they're so attuned to the shadowy part of the plane, right? But there's a bright side, too. I don't mean 'bright side' as in good side, just really, really, literally bright. Blinding in its own way. Maybe we could use something from the bright side, distill it in some liquid, and that could help balance out their shadow-humors? I'll need to think about this. How exciting!" He paused to think. "Perhaps... yes, maybe you could help. If you find anyone in your travels who is closer to the bright side than the darkness, see what of them you might be able to collect. We'll test things out. Wonderful, wonderful. This is making me feel like the old Aufdein! Everything's on its way back up, up, up!"



I will look for any light bearers out here! Should not be too hard to spot, I do not think at least. What do you mean about old Aufdein though? Everyone I spoke to in the city had praise for your products and work!
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Tian
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Tian sat back away from everyone else, listening in silence as he kept the anger that had been unleashed before on a tight leash. He had not been so angry in more time than he cared to think of, and it was eating away at his mind like a canker sore. The fragments of memory still swirled in his mind, beyond reach and yet tantalizingly familiar. All of this talk of the Ethereal was making that even worse.

He stood suddenly. His injuries had not fully healed, of course, and he was bone weary beside...but, well, some things needed doing. He moved forward until he was next to the axe-wielding Dispatch, and whispered in her ear. I would dearly love to know more about the gentleman and this dueling business, he rasped.

Ithuen edged a little bit away from Tian so there was more breathing room, including leaning away from his lips so they weren't so close to her ear. The Sheriff side-eyed him, giving him a wary what-are-you-doing sort of look. "Later," she muttered under the conversation, louder than his whisper. Her tone was firm, like he was bothering her with less important things than her town getting destroyed. She, like Czajka, was not here to spout information at the Pariahs' bidding.

In a louder voice, he continued. Our dear Kir Lantos has some purpose beyond what we know of, too, I am almost positive of it. I don't believe in coincidence. There is some connection between our being double crossed, what happened at the Wine River company property, the scorchlines, and what is going down in Nine Angels. Also, the Taming. Has anyone thought of why all of these things have happened at one time?

Everyone was quiet for a few seconds after that thought.

"It was a false flag operation," Czajka said. "You said he tricked you, right? Kir's probably with Wine River somehow. Not sure why he made you do all that, but now Wine River's won the bid against Oxbow and they're building the scorchline through Nine Angels."

"I don't know why a scorchline would destroy the town, but I do know that Kir hates this place," Viktor added. "He tried to establish his pack here a while back, like getting in with the local power players like the Scribe. But it didn't work. The Scribe tried to screw him over financially, and Torsten was a skilled night-hunter. He could rip a Darkest Gloomwood werewolf apart like it was nothing. Torsten took down all of Kir's power plays left and right before he died."

He was silent on that point, listening as the others threw their bit in. It wasn't until Lorica spoke that he chimed in again, speaking up. Won't work. Can't exactly blame it, with all the treachery encountered so far. Instead of a leader, perhaps we should decide on what to do about things well in advance, so everyone knows what they need doing?

He looked at the Dalca brothers and gave them a fractional smile. I would prefer silver weapons in hand, but if we can't have that...well, someone that can smack those bastards with silver to weaken them so we can finish carving them to bits....that's just about as good. He paused. And I definitely think its time we do something about Bacek. Whatever we do, we need to settle on one thing and push for it, especially with the new riff-raff in town.

The smile he gave wasn't very pleasant at all.
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Alexandra
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The injured mage awoke, her eyes fluttering open. She clearly hurt up until the moment she regained her composure and concentration. Then it was as though her back hadn't been rent open. Alex gently shifted and looked to Korso. "Why were those wolves chasing you?" Her attention drifted over to Ithuen. She nodded at the sheriff. "Sorry about the city, Sheriff-of-the-Dispatch. I...ah...was saving it from Kir? I don't have a good excuse. I got really angry. I'll do something nice for the city if we get the resources together. I, uh, am an...ex-Itivari engineer." Alex nodded. "My name is Alexandra. I can't give my last name until my sister is safe, sorry."

"Oh, the answer is rather simple, really," Korso said. He paused. Coughed. "The answer to that question, which is a great question, is... that..." The merchant erupted into a fit of coughing this time. "They were looking for a new product prototype! Yes. Kir Lantos wants his filthy paws on my GENUINE Aufdein Korso products, and he won't settle for the existing line."

Ithuen breathed out sharply from her nose and took a swig from Czajka's flask. "I'm used to it. And yeah, I know who you are. Sounds like the others don't. What a posse."

"Korso, what sort of plans? Can I take a look? I can read blueprints and runes. There might be a means to stop them without a direct fight."

"Half of the people here aren't like me, Kir Lantos threatened my family because of my skills. I'm not so sure anyone else here had the same motivation. I admit it, at the very start I didn't trust many people here other than Zuraw." Alex nodded at Zuraw. "Ithuen. We'll need your help to save Nine Angels and take down Kir Lantos. After all this is done and over with, I'll stick around and build what I can to improve the city. I prefer creating things, honestly."

"Plans? Blueprints? Runes? I said prototypes, right?" Korso sounded nervous. "Prototypes, I didn't say anything about plans or blueprints. Please don't kill me."

Alex inhaled, then exhaled, to manage her feelings about Korso's uncomfortableness. "I'm sorry. I'm just curious as to what you've got and what it is that they want so bad. I bet it has to do with the scorchline they intend to build."

"Right. An explanation. Not too long ago, an Antonio Krupin threatened my family in return for a task: sabotaging the Wine River Transport company. I did it - I set a scorchliner's engine to overact and likely flip the scorchliner. I'm not at all proud of what I did. We were caught in a big roundup after that, the Zakona bounties. Then we bundled up onto a lovely barge and sent south. I've made bad decisions ever since." Alex shrugged. "Zuraw, did I miss anything?"

Ithuen held her chin. "Speculation? So why do y'all sound so sure it'll happen?" She flicked her eyes to Czajka, then Yurim. "One of you mentioned something about a prophet, then shut up about it right away. You keeping something?"

""Yehven made a prophecy. He gave the letter to Czajka."

Czajka looked to Yevhen, whose eyes -- surprised and angry -- shot to Viktor in turn.

"That was supposed to be private," the younger brother growled at Alex, reaching into the folds of his jacket for a weapon.

"Not their fault. I made them read it out loud to me. I'm... I can't read very good," Czajka said, shoulders tense. "Not much. Working on it."

"What? But you wrote such a beautiful reply--"

Czajka made a frustrated noise and just pointed to Carmen to get the idea across.

Viktor joined the conversation. "You two resolve your-- whatever this is later. Yevhen, what's this about a prophecy?"

"I-- brother, I'm sorry. I broke our promise and kept a secret. I just didn't think you'd believe me. I keep having dreams about the future, and they keep coming true, and one keeps coming back over and over. Nine Angels is gonna get destroyed, brother. After the scorchline goes through."

Ithuen threw up her hands, tone flying into a roar: "Why did it take so [removed]ing long for you people to tell us this?! Why wasn't that the first [removed]ing thing that came out of your mouths?!"

Viktor took off his hat, turning away partly and rubbing his short-cropped hair back and forth with his palm. "Shit... is this really happening? You harmonized or something, Yev? This some Shadow Plane bullshit? What are we gonna do?"

The atmosphere in the room had gotten much worse.

"I don't put much stake in prophecies. People have infinite capacity to disappoint and equally infinite capacity to excel." Alex shrugged. "I had forgotten the prophecy until now, it was in Czajka's hands." Alex winced and offered a weak smile. "Nine Angels seemed to be closer to the ethereal than most places. Maybe they want to dip it a bit closer to allow something as large as a scorchliner to pass through the ethereal and come out past Norwood."

Aufdein Korso tensed up, staring at Alexandra. "Could they really do that? That would need some pretty complicated plans, logistically speaking. Maybe that was why they won the bid -- with those plans? Other than a bunch of terrorists working for Oxbow trying to attack Wine River headquarters. Err, simply to repeat the headlines."

"I hate to say it, but Istan stabilized a breach, thousands of years ago before we had any arcana near as refined as we do now. The planar spikes that now power Balefire, Cascadia and Striberg are built on breaching into other planes. Balefire itself was transported into the shadow plane. Maybe someone has recovered the old spell and modified it? It would be quite a feat, but Scorchliners are far more capable of moving freight cheaply than airships. The costs would balance out in time. And I can't imagine a random assortment of arsons, graffiti, thefts and, well, a scorchliner engine failure would sway the bid beyond showing the Wine River Transport company's security needs work." Alex rose from her comfy spot and gathered up a bandage. She began wrapping it diagonally across her head.

"Sorry about the gaping eye-wound. I sort of forgot. Next time we get time, I'm going to go and purchase a steel arm. I'm hopeless without one. Getting onto Apple is incredibly difficult."
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Tanya
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All the Pariahs escaped. It wasn't a high bar, but Tanya considered it a promising sign for the gang's functionality that the results had been so much better than they had the last time the group had tried to escape Kir Lantos' plots. She headed back to the Castle and met with the others. Czajka joined their group, and Ithuen demanded an explanation.

Alex started to fill her in. Tanya nodded and continued to explain. "Yeah. Krupin set us up. Antonio Krupin is a pseudonym for Kir Lantos. I think he wants to level Nine Angels for work on a scorchliner, but there's a lot of speculation in that theory. We're grateful for your help, and if you have any other questions I'll do my best to answer them, but I can't give you a full explanation of Lantos' motives."

The Dalcas proposed a deal for silver weapons. Tanya nodded. She'd had a great deal of difficulty fending off the wolves with her bare hands. Some silver knuckledusters would certainly be worth sharing their access to clean water. The monopoly they had on it at the moments wouldn't yield profit unless they could defend it, and even with the gangs they'd subsumed the Pariahs weren't strong enough to go up against most of the powerful forces operating in Nine Angels. "Agreed. Clean water for silver is fair.

The conversation turned to the blueprints. Korso nervously asked the Pariahs what their intentions were with whoever it was that had them.

"What a hypothetical situation," Tanya commented sardonically. "If they're someone Kir Lantos wants dead, they're probably someone we want alive. It would be much appreciated if whoever it was that had them showed them to us willingly, though."
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Storyteller[ST]
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You continue the meeting, and talk to a few people afterward. Click to make your offers.



The next night, you meet with the two factions who wanted the Pariahs to lend an ear. Click to consider.



OOC
 
This round, like the last, requires a Discussion cutoff. You have until the evening on Thursday, November 10 to post rapidly IC in Discussion. You have until 5:00pm Mountain on Saturday, November 12 to post in the main topic.

Things Requiring Your Attention

Good news! The Main Street Apothecary is bringing in some income. You also got some extra income that would have been spent to pay the minotaur, but he's no longer around. The Pariahs got 4 money.

Good news! You have a few takers for your burgeoning water business, and word is spreading. You expect your income from this business will increase over time. The Pariahs got 2 money.

The Pariahs as a whole currently have a pool of 5 money to spend (1 money was already spent on Alex's limb). This doesn't count however much money you have in your own pockets.

Zuraw is asking for 4 money to fund a personal project. Her offer can stand for a while, since it'll be a while before it pays dividends.

Also don't forget the job choice you have. Vote in Discussion before the end of the Discussion cutoff (so vote by Thursday).

If you have any activities that you want to do for setup, such as info gathering or training/outfitting goons or shopping or whatever, feel free to do them in this round. Otherwise you can start working on the job that the Pariahs voted on during this round's Discussion period.

A supplemental information record called Your Forces will be completed sometime during this round. Sorry for the delay. It will summarize the Pariahs' posse, assets and power.


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Keter
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The maiden voyage of the Kir Lantos? As if there weren't enough reason to kill him, now I think I'll make it slow and excruciating just for the sheer ego.

Karstoff is going to be there? That will make things. . . interesting. Things must've gone as well as could be expected for her "taming". I wonder who made the cut and who got cut.

I can think of one. . . but there's always the unofficial cuts that come later.

How far are you willing to go for revenge over this?

If I'm considering him a rehearsal, then as far as I need to, with or without your help.

And if you're not?

So far I am. Let's work with that.


Ithuen offered her job, and though she could pay less than the Dalcas, hers offered so much more. Effectively removing an entire faction from play would surely pay out in effectiveness far more than the price difference could, and the added boon to their reputation would begin disrupting their enemy's plans. Of course it would mean bounty hunters would start showing more of an interest than the alternative, but such a mercenary people could probably be worked against more reliably than law-enforcement.

They were probably supposed to be incarcerated if not dead. . .assuming that Kir Lantos, the bastard, did not have future-vision like the Yehven Dalca did. If this turned out to be some complicated scheme to benefit him, then the Black Monkey was unsure whether he should be impressed or further infuriated. Those were mere things to come to as they were presented, though, for now they simply had to focus on the upcoming job.

It seemed that the majority ruling was to go and put an end to the so-called Shadow-Killer, Jakob Rijinders.

The job was made a bit easier by the "no-witnesses" rule. Of course the Ethereal would always have its gaze weighing down on them, but that made it even more important to control the narrative. If it could be arranged for one of the Shadowdancers to deal the killing blow to the Shadow-Killer, then maybe word would pass through the Ethereal. If one of the underestimated Pariah's shadowdancers was so dangerous as to kill somebody who specifically trained to kill them, then what would that say of the rest of the group's capabilities? They essentially a dragon on their ragtag team!

Of course Keter practically salivated at the thought of getting a one-on-one match-up with the guy who killed shadows, to show him what the Black Monkey was capable of-- the Shadowboxer, as wanted posters seemed keen on calling Keter after his stint boxing at Bearkiller's. For all of his daydreaming it seemed unlikely, even if he would cheat, but for now he would have to settle on watching a natural enemy be swallowed by the darkness.
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Anci
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Once they decided to go with Ithuen’s job over the Brother’s offer, Anci tried to bother Carmen.


You are are a good speaker, could you make a letter telling them no, nice ways? Do not want to make them angry at us taking Bearkiller’s job.


All of her exposure to the Ethereal plane had been in its shadowy, darker aspects. Korso knew about it though to some extent, even if it was all secondhand knowledge.


Korso


What could you tell me about someone who is harmonized to the light part of the ethereal? There is someone in Nine Angels related to it, and I would like to find out more about what they can do before meeting them.


Anyone else in Nine Angels here a friend of yours you would like to get in touch with? It might not be very safe to go wandering around, but I could at least let someone know you are safe and...more or less well?


Czajka


What would you suggest to watch out from someone who is harmonized to the light? Anything that might be a weak spot for them? And if we happened to capture someone, how could we stop them from being able to make a deal with the ethereal? Short of killing them.


Otherwise Anci is free to assist someone else’s plan/scheme!

OOC
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Carmen
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Carmen had expressed her opinion on the available contacts and been outvoted soon after. She wasn't so much offended as she was disappointed; gaining the much more substantial sum of money would have gone a long way to providing Zuraw with what she needed, and could have allowed swift investment in Nine Angels real estate and businesses. There was, however, no clearly wrong answer between their choices, and she did not object once the majority had been reached.

Reclined on her chaise and enjoying her full-bodied wine, she waited for Ansgar to finish brewing and distributing the tea, and then waved him over. She patted the chair next to hers so that he might finally take a well-deserved rest.

After he took a seat, Carmen poured him a glass of wine from her decanter. "To good friends," she said quietly to the Abnathean, passing him the goblet and raising hers in a toast. "May we die another day."

Ansgar took a seat and joined Carmen's toast. "To good friends!" He did not repeat the second half. The draconid sipped the wine, swirling it in his clawed grip and sighing peacefully. "A spot of civilization in all the mud and rain. How very nice." Looking at Carmen, he chuckled. "They're calling you Princess, you know. How does that make you feel?"




Carmen froze as the colour drained slowly from her face. Tremors began in the hand clutching her goblet, minor at first, but soon she had to set the cup down lest she spill her wine all over herself. Her gaze stared into nothing, distant and unfocused, while she struggled to come to grips with what Ansgar had told her.

"Who?" she finally asked. "Who calls me that?"

He explained about the wanted posters, the title she'd been given upon them, and that 'The Princess' was synonymous with 'Carmen' whenever the Pariahs were being discussed.

It's fine, said a fuming voice deep within her. Their envy is plain. You have a birthright they don't even know, and still your nobility shines through.

"But I don't want people to call me that," she said softly, half to Ansgar and half to herself. "I'm not a princess."

Maybe not, but you will be a Countess.

"I will not ever be that," Carmen said through gritted teeth, staring down at the floor, fists clenched.

"You are not our father, but you are a Castile!" Inferna shouted back from the depths of Carmen's mind. "And you have been playing make-believe with these peasants for far too long. One day soon this sham of yours will come to an end, and you will take your place in the high courts of Taras where you belong."

"Never!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet and charging out of the room. She bounded up the spiral stair to her room, slammed the door and bolted it, and then stared into her burning hearth.

"Why would you say that?! You hate him as I do. More! You are my hatred for him!"

These people are making you weak. Unfocused on what is truly important. Think, Carmen. Did I say that our father would be there?

Carmen clutched her chest, taking in deep, panicked gulps of air as Inferna's murderous intent crystalized in the dark recesses of her thoughts.

There is still much to do. Stay here a while. Play this out. People here have brought you hardship, and for that they must pay the price. Take the job Bearkiller has offered. Build your influence. Be the noble they all expect you to be, for that is what you are. But don't fool yourself as you did in the northern reaches; you are playing a dangerous game, and you can't afford to shun me as you did then.

She sat on the edge of her bed, watching the flames as they danced in the fireplace. "There will come a day when I don't need you anymore," she said firmly.

I most certainly hope so.

Hours later, having calmed herself, Carmen spoke to the Dalca brothers directly. Anci had suggested a letter, and Carmen was flattered at having been thought of, but felt a face to face meeting would be better received.

"The Pariahs have received multiple requests for aid at this juncture. There is insufficient time to handle all the petitions we have received. Regretfully, I must inform you both that we cannot aid you against Nevenka Valeriev at this juncture; though we may be able to at a later date. Take heart, however, as The Pariahs have set upon an endeavour that is assured to relieve some of the pressure vexing you and your brethren."

OOC
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Tanya
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Ithuen's offer, while lower paying, gave them an opportunity to forestall an alliance between Kir Lantos and the Balefire Sheriffs. Madame Tanya hadn't forgotten Ithuen's confession that she'd intended to blackmail the Pariahs, but they didn't have the luxury of bearing grudges against prospective allies. "Let's take out Rijnders."

The alchemist looked over at the other Pariahs and began to lay out her plan. "Right. I think our priority if we're going against Jakob Rijnders is to make sure we get him alone, or with as few allies as possible. The easiest way to do that is to use one of our Shadowdancers as bait. But you'll have to have a way to get away that doesn't involve Shadowdancing. I'm certain he'll have plenty of safeguards against that. We'll also need to ensure that he doesn't bring anyone on his task force with him. Especially Amitiel. Can you help with that, Ithuen?"

She glanced over at Aufdein Korso. "Korso, are you sticking with us? If so, we've got an alchemy shop where you can brew anything you might need. Just tell the owner you're with us."

Turning away, she addressed Neriah. "Neriah, do you know of a good spot for an ambush? Somewhere out of the way, where we can bring a good chunk of our forces to bear, and where he won't be able to escape without a fight."
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Glug Photall
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That word - ”întârziere” - it was a bit of Bridgetongue slang that Glug didn’t know. He’d heard it once or twice, or perhaps even thrice, in the past; he hadn’t yet picked up on anything beyond it being some kind of insult. But he moved past it in his mind. It wasn’t important. Neither was knowing the origin of the Dalcas’ connection to Bacek. As the prison was described, however, he immediately thought of where best he might be able to position himself and how best he might be able to facilitate an escape should Bacek be freed and escorted to that point. His arrows wouldn’t miss, even if - as in the battle against the werewolves - someone blocked them. The real problem was staying hidden, making him wonder how much cover there was around the edge of this quarry. But he could figure that out when he got there.

The issue of silver was addressed once more, as it was an important issue here. Glug scowled deeply but said nothing at the suggestion of not arming him with silver, opting instead of speaking to blow out the smoke from his cigar in a huff. But again…not important. He would be armed as necessary before he had to face the werewolves again, one way or another. For now, his ear perked up as the blueprints were mentioned. So something had gotten through…that job wasn’t a complete waste, after all. Good to know. And now they had an ideas to what the blueprints that they’d stolen were for. It did indeed make sense…Lantos would need to know what he was looking at when he ran the people out of this town and flattened it for his precious scorchliner. But immediately thereafter, bickering broke out between Ithuen and the Dalcas, and something interesting came up that actually sparked Glug’s curiosity instead of his annoyance at having deviated from the matters at hand: Ithuen had apparently cut Viktor’s head off once. Then how…was he undead? Huh. That was something Glug would have to file away in his mind for later.

Glug was glad when the meeting finally came to an end. There wasn’t much he could do until the next morning, however, when the Pariahs met with their temporary allies a second time. It seemed that the Dalcas had a rather difficult but high-paying job for them. Glug wasn’t so certain he wanted to work for the Dalcas, but he’d consider it for the time being. He wanted to see what the others would be interested in doing first. After all, he couldn’t take a job like that on his own - not very quickly, at any rate. That was the kind of job that would take him a while, and he doubted he had the time to spare at the moment. So it was up to the others whether they wanted to take down the bounty huntress and her armoured attack puggles or not.

The afternoon brought no surprise to Glug. He had wondered how long it would be until his face went up onto a wall - only it wasn’t exactly his face. It was a horrible rendering, and he shook his head in disgust. If they were going to make him infamous, they could at least get the bloody posters right. When no one was looking, he tore one down; folding it, he pocketed the thing. Infamy was still infamy, even if it wasn’t accurate. Granted, he didn’t really want to be infamous, but perhaps this would give him a chuckle a wee bit later on. He headed back to the Castle and watched Neriah, the Pariahs’ new Lieutenant, trying to train some thugs that the Pariahs had managed to recruit for a few moments. Finally, however, he walked on until he came across Ithuen.

Her job offer, while not quite as lucrative as that of the Dalcas, might actually have more promise. True, the Dalcas’ job would get some of the bounty hunters off of the Pariahs’ backs. Why go after people who were dangerous enough to take down one of the best bounty huntresses out there, after all? But Ithuen was offering the Pariahs a chance to potentially rid themselves of a much more dangerous enemy - someone who could probably thin their ranks very easily, thereby making it far more difficult to take down Lantos. While the Dalcas’ job would let them take down a few werewolves and put them a step closer to their ultimate goal, this job would stave off the inevitable a while longer - perhaps long enough for them to complete the job a little more directly, as opposed to playing the long game. Personally, Glug liked the long game. It was safer because it was more careful and there was far less risk of failure.

Somehow, though, Glug had a feeling the others would want Ithuen’s job more than that of the Dalcas. Truth be told, he was almost relieved that there was an alternative to taking the Dalcas’ job. There was also the matter of Zuraw, who needed some of the bills the Pariahs were carrying in order to further their cause. The Dalcas’ job wouldn’t take much away from the Pariahs, and they’d be able to pay Zuraw. Glug scratched his chin. He was more apt to take the Dalcas’ job, but they might not have the time. Either way, the Pariahs would benefit…but which benefit was greater? That was the question before the Pariahs at the moment.

Listening to what the others were saying, Glug finally came to a decision: he would take the job Ithuen offered. He had no real choice in the matter, as it seemed that the other Pariahs were more interested in that one than in the Dalcas’ job. Part of him was relieved; part of him was annoyed; and part of him just didn’t give a rat’s tail either way. So he spoke up as well, accepting Ithuen’s job. Tanya asked about a good ambush spot, and Glug added his own advice to that.

“And somewhere with a lot of cover,” he said. “I can’t be very effective if I keep having to move instead of fire.”

OOC
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Mobster Man
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Yurim past most of their time just... listening. He didn't know what else to say, didn't know what to do. He kept to himself until it was time to meet the Dalcas. Their job offer wasn't bad... and Yurim had a feeling the dog-woman was the one that captured him, oh he would have loved to capture her and tortured her as his way to repay her for his shitty situation, but he remembered Bearkiller said not to make a decision just yet... so he stayed silent.

The job Bearkiller told them about... well that was the job he needed the group to take. Yurim spoke up, "Lets do Bearkiller's job. The footpads I recruited were supposed to be my first attempt at training other Shadowdancers, but if this guy specializes in Anti-Shadowdancer combat and techniques then we really need to take this guy down."

Yurim stepped forward, "My alter-ego is called the One Shadow, a Shadowdancer thief that has stolen several treasures across Balefire. If I put on my suit, get a Mask of Momus replica, and make my presence known in the city then I bet he'll be on me faster than a vulture on a corpse. In other words I'll be bait if it's needed, plus if there are any Shadowdancers in this town then they might join us if we take out their number one enemy."
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Tian
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It was what passed for evening, in the Castle. The eternal darkness of Nine Angels might have been oppressive, but it was not Tian's way to let such simple things as that get him down. He wouldn't have minded seeing a star or the moon during the eternal darkness, just once, but it was not to be in this place.

The Dalcas had made their offer, and it was....exceptionally lucrative. But he was a man that could, when called to, have some patience. Bearkiller had said not to accept that contract out of hand, and he had not. He wanted to hear what the violent elven Dispatch had to say, and he was thus rewarded when he heard her offer.

Consider it? Why, my dear lady, I have considered it all of these seconds since you uttered those words, he replied to her. He fixed her with his most winning smile (a fearful thing that usually made women reach for the nearest blunt object to strike him with), and swept a deep bow to her. It just so happens that, ah-ha, assassinating might have been a former profession of mine. I might have some small skill in this area. He straightened. I am sure the others can be of use, too, and then he paused for a moment as if to think.

Especially Princess Pissed.

He took a seat. His wounds from their encounter with the werewolves had fully healed - it was, call it, a result of whatever had happened that night. I for one do not like spurning the Dalca's offer but, I would just like to point out, having the law on our side, to whatever extent it may end up being, will be a lot more helpful than slitting a few bounty hunter throats. His grin at the axe-wielding elven woman....insinuated.

He nodded as the others spoke. SHadowdancing is simply a tool at my disposal. If the bastard thinks he can take me down based solely upon that skillset, he will be in for a rude surprise. Its for slinking and stalking. Killing people is a much more...personal matter. he commented. His eyes were far harder than his tone, though.

He looked around at the others, calm demeanor again in evidence. It was a little strained, as if there was something he truly desired and he was being denied it. Well, m'dear, I would love to know every detail you can come up with regarding your job offer. I will have specific questions once I have more in depth replies. Specifically, where the bastard can be found and, if possible, his routines. A few other things like that. He was, despite the leering at the Dispatch, completely businesslike now.

After all, this was his business, like it or not.

Ithuen's eyes hardened. "First of all, spare me the 'm'dear.' It's not flattering. I'm a goddamn Sheriff, so you either call me Sheriff or you call me by my name, you patronizing creep. And, since apparently I need to spell it out for you, you so much as touch me and I'll cut your [removed]ing fingers off."

That being said, she folded her arms and exhaled sharply to refocus the conversation back on-topic. Her free hand reached into the folds of her jacket and took a long swig from a flask first, though. "Actually, no, I'm not going to just spout out everything I can about the guy stream-of-consciousness until you get something that seems interesting. I already told you: he's demented and he's in charge. He... really doesn't like the way I've been 'running' this joint." That last bit was accompanied by a noticeable softening of the Sheriff's tone, like she was admitting something that was both embarrassing and frustrating.

"And they're in a hurry. Just like Kir's probably in a hurry. Assuming they're not allied, which they probably are. I mean, they're in a hurry to get this shithole cleaned up in a month or less. That's all I got. Now I need specific questions or I can't help you."

He was not put off by the threatening tone. Actually, it seemed that the tone encouraged more than it discouraged. He gave a knowing grin and winked at her, pressing his luck and knowing damned good and well he was doing it. Specific questions, eh? What is the size of his precious zakona hunter task force, Itheun? Would it be possible to draw this task force away from him, so that someone or some people, could deal with him personally? He gave her a very direct look. All of the false charm was gone (a little of the lust remained, however), and the look in his eyes was one of pure murder. I would love to personally challenge the bastard to a duel - not the kind where both parties walk away. I have a few more skills than slipping through darkness. But that would only work if we could distract his cronies in some manner.

He paused, leaned backagainst the wall. Maybe have our resident arcanotechnician deal with the golem, too?
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