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| Cairns on the Wine River [FIN]; [ST05][Signups Closed] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sat Sep 17, 2016 1:22 pm (8,274 Views) | |
| Anci | Mon Oct 3, 2016 7:24 pm Post #76 |
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All the good coats and stormies were gone. Rather all of them were gone. Even the boots and stockings had been picked clean. Anci managed to lay her hands on a few shirts and pants from some dead guards while other prisoners were still fighting over the more valued articles of clothing. Early on in Balefire she'd woken up to find someone had taken her footwear right off while she was sleeping, Anci got a valued lesson on how to weave rags into makeshift footwear from a kid who had to do the same. They weren't waterproof in the slightest, but they kept her feet directly off of the ice. Later on she'd try to fashion some sandals or steal a pair of boots. Anci didn't plan on setting foot outside that much. The last lengthy exposure she had was when the Dalca gang made their appearance and had everyone file onto the deck. She appreciated the sentiment, but her teeth had been chattering so hard Anci was worried some of them might have been broken. Her part in the armory break in had been small, observatory. Tian had thankfully gotten to work on dismantling their respective bindings, one of Tanya's seconds came through explaining the use and workings of the materials the madame had handed out. Carmen's heartfelt thanks was appreciative, it was good knowing the woman was doing a lot better than she had been in the cell. Anci's own contribution during this consisted of shivering while leaning into Lore for warmth. Inside the armory all Anci managed to find was a small book and a set of rags. The book was a quaint traveler's guide to Imythess penned by a Sulerian explorer, largely useless it was also filled with a lot of annotations by Anci. The other article was her raggedy outerwear. It didn't keep out the cold, but it'd keep the rain off of her. It must have looked to worn out for anyone to have taken for themselves like the rest of her outfit. And then Lore shenanigans - - - - - - Ansgar "Hey, Ansgar was it? I am Singuth'Anci. I wanted to thank you for helping everyone break out." She stuck out her hand to shake his own, despite the large size difference between the two of them. "I am not taking your business, but I was wondering what you were going to do with yourself now that you are free? |
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| Storyteller[ST] | Mon Oct 3, 2016 7:56 pm Post #77 |
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Dalcas Viktor greets you, Arthur, and offers you soup. "Watch me all you want, friend! I got nothing to hide. Hey, who's Antonio?" Carmen, you ask a few questions to get a better sense of what's going on. "Bacek. The Scribe. The Lady of the Quiet Road. Whatever you want to call that Istani sparrowhawk, she's dipping her toes in some new business ventures. All I know is that I need to take the prisoners, offload them to Nine Angels, and keep the barges in a secure location. Who knows what schemes are in that pretty little head of hers." You ask about Czajka, and Yevhen is quick to jump into the conversation. "She's a bounty hunter who lives in Nine Angels. Half-elf, half-demon. There's all kinds of stories, people talk, but I know the truth! She's not as mean as she looks, she's really nice and likes Striberg beer, and her favorite color is 'anything that isn't black,' and she has a loshadi named Vůne who likes carrots, the ones with stripes not the blue kind--" "Dead gods, boy, no one cares! It's the tall tales that people remember. Not her horse's [removed]ing dietary restrictions. Tone down the creep sometimes." At Viktor's admonishment, the brother wearing the bite mask wilts. Viktor shifts in his seat, making a thinking noise. "Carmen, what you need to know about Czajka is that she's been acting weird lately. I think she's been tangling with the wrong crowd. She's a good kid, I don't want her getting into some nasty shit. So think of yourselves as a bunch of guardian angels, maybe, sent courtesy of Mister Viktor Dalca." "And Yevhen," he says with narrowed eyes. Carmen, you ask about Nine Angels. "It's dying, I can tell you that. Slowly but surely. Rotten to the core is why, and the mines are drying up. But with Wine River Transport Company winning the bid, there's hope they'll run the new line by the town. Then maybe Balefire will give enough of a shit to clean up all the filth and kick out their Sheriff-of-the-Dispatch posted there. Useless, drunken piece-of-crap wood elf Sheriff just cares about gambling and booze." Zuraw The half-werewolf listens to your ultimatum, Lorica, eyes flitting between the meat and you. You've given her a choice: be a stupid dog forever trapped under Krupin's (Kir's) thumb, or abandon the alpha and become the knight she wants to be! It would be almost uplifting if you weren't mutilating a corpse in the process. She writes something down, stands up, tears the page of her notebook out and slams it into your chest, Lorica, so hard that it almost knocks you down. Besides the other things she already "said" to you, it reads in angry, shaky letters: I AM A KNIGHT She storms out of the room and makes a beeline for the barracks, where soup is being served. Ansgar Ansgar shakes your hand, Anci. Looks like he found a few of his things: a fine shirt and warm jacket tailored to his bulk, as well as leather wrappings (approximations of shoes) for his clawed feet. An elegant Abnathean sabre hangs from his hip. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Singunth'Anci. I'm Ansgar Grimur. Would you care to walk with me? I need to scope out a place to rest that will accommodate my large size." As you walk together, you ask him a question about what he plans to do with his freedom. "I would like to thank all of you for spearheading that operation. Though my attempt on the False God's life was in vain, I can easily find a suitable place to die in this region. I've passed from a utopia to a dystopia, my friend. Once I die -- however long that takes -- I plan to continue my quest to erase the dragon's influence from this poor land. There is no place for me in Abnathea, but perhaps here I might be of use." |
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| Glug Photall | Mon Oct 3, 2016 8:19 pm Post #78 |
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Glug listened closely to what was being answered. He was disliking the childish stalker-type brother in the bite mask more and more with each passing moment. That one was going to get somebody killed, if he continued talking so much, especially about things no one cared about. The other, obviously more mature brother was right to (thankfully) shut him up before he got too much farther. It let Glug focus on what was important. So the city was drying up. That was interesting. And this Czajka person…this bounty huntress… “Bodyguard work is dangerous,” Glug said, finally speaking up again, “and a wee bit more expensive than delivering some papers. Hope she’s got more than a paltry few notes to offer for that. But if she has good-paying work - more than just delivering things - I might be interested in what she has to say. Especially if it helps me take down the idiot who set me up in the first place.” This Bacek person…sparrowhawks could be anybody, and that made this that much more dangerous. However, whatever Glug had initially thought of the Dalca Brothers, one thing was true: they weren’t just some rich morons pulling strings, like Krupin had been. They had been prepared to do some wet-work; of that, Glug was certain. A gang like that didn’t stick around long if it started burning bridges. Glug might not be too fond of them right now - or anyone else, for that matter - but at least they seemed to be honest. They also seemed a little bit like Glug: they didn’t trust anyone aboard the barge, other than perhaps their own people. Glug could certainly empathize with that. “So this Nine Angels,” he said, speaking up again, “what is it now, really? A haven for ne’er-do-wells, or just a dying city? And what of this Czajka you keep referring to…what’s her stake in all of this?” Viktor said she had gotten herself into some trouble of late… “And can she be trusted?” Glug wasn’t about to let himself get betrayed again - not so easily. He was on high alert now. |
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| Alexandra | Mon Oct 3, 2016 8:42 pm Post #79 |
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Alex nodded to Zuraw's request. "I'm a bit of a hand with seamstress work and I've done a tiny amount of metal working. Let me give it a shot." Alex reached out with her lone hand and helped Zuraw as best she could, mostly by repairing straps and refitting everything properly. She didn't think she did much of a good job. "We'll need a real armorer to fix this up properly. I'm an arcanist, really." Alex adjusted her jacket and prepared to leave when she was caught by Lorica. "Uh, sure." Alex was a little confused by the claim, and went to go settle in with the main group with the Dalcas, who she had yet to meet. She offered a small wave and accepted a cup of soup. She listened passively to the conversation around her. Then she piped up. "I've made some poor decisions, I admit, but where can I learn more about the marks around my eyes? There must be a source..." Alex was interrupted by Zuraw reappearing in a hurry. She beckoned the knight over and patted the chair beside her. "I can surmise the little meeting you had with that woman didn't go so well. You can write with me if you'd like to discuss it." |
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| Storyteller[ST] | Mon Oct 3, 2016 9:03 pm Post #80 |
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Dalcas and Zuraw "Sounds like you been reading a lot of five-copper novels, Glug! Talking about havens for ne'er-do-wells... that's damn good fictionbook material right there. You like writing?" Victor doesn't even sound sarcastic. Glug, you follow up that question with one about Czajka's stake in all this and whether she could be trusted. "Man, you're getting into some real philosophical stuff. Who to trust, what people's roles are in everything. I'm just a lucky guy, not a sage. Sorry I can't answer better." "You can trust Czajka," Yevhen says, reaching behind the mask on the back of his head to itch his scalp with uncomfortable urgency. Zuraw bursts into the room, shoulders rising and falling with fast, heavy breaths. Her attention is so focused on the pot of soup that she doesn't seem to notice the existence of anyone or anything else in the room. She rushes forward with a speed that makes Viktor flinch back a bit, palms raised. "Whoah! Never get between a wolf and her prey." The quip has a tone like a friendly joke, but Zuraw silently snarls at him with lips peeled back, corners of her mouth quivering. She's got a decidedly nonhuman dental structure with three pairs of canine fangs on both the top and bottom, interlaced. The bioluminescent lines on her face and neck alternate flashing stripes of black, red and yellow -- the universal warning colors. She sets herself down hard next to Alexandra, shoulders drawn up. Then she tears into her food. The manic scraping of her spoon against the tin doesn't make any noise, unlike the rest of yours. Her eyes are wild and soup dribbles off the corners of her mouth in a barbaric display of gluttony. When she reaches for more, filling her cup almost to the point of it spilling over, Viktor doesn't even stop her. After a few moments of awkward silence, the older Dalca turns to all of you. "Uh, is she okay?" Now she's got her cup pressed to her face, trying to lick every last bit of it out. Then she drops it all of a sudden, clutching her head with both hands and almost doubling over. Not vomiting, just a look of total horror and guilt on her face. Alexandra, you offer to write with her. Zuraw gives you a few fearful sidelong glances and then shakes her head. Alex, you wonder out loud how to find out more about the black scratches around your eyes. Yevhen jolts with realization upon looking at you. "Oh no! Here, take this!" He hurries to rip off the mask that was on the back of his head and hands it to you. "You know how butterflies have fake eyes on their wings sometimes? It works the same, but for the Shadow Plane. When it tries to steal your eyes, it'll steal your mask instead." "That's a bunch of baloney," Viktor says. "What, did Czajka tell you that?" "No! I made it up myself, and it will work if the Shadow ever comes and gets me!" Yevhen turns back to you, Alexandra. "You gotta be careful. The Shadow Plane is dangerous, really dangerous. If it ever wants to make a deal with you, don't take it, no matter how good it seems! It'll always ask for more, it'll always take too much! It'll try to trick you! You gotta be careful!" |
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| Mobster Man | Mon Oct 3, 2016 9:16 pm Post #81 |
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Yurim looked at the group and grinned as Angsar left them. Yurim walked forward, "You guys don't stand much of a chance and I hate killing people." The swaying lights and shifting shadows gave him an idea... the next time the shadows washed over him, he stepped into them, he felt the pain surge through his body, his teeth gritting, he almost wanted to scream, but he didn't. The next moment he was behind the captain, wrapping his arms around the captain's neck, putting him or her into a choke hold. Yurim raised his voice, "Any false moves and I snap the Captain's neck, simple as that. Weapons down, everyone drop to the floor." When most of them complied he let his grip loosen, letting the captain breathe. Yurim grinned, picking up one of the weapons and using it to keep the captain hostage as he went about, picking up a few maps here and there. That was when he realized that even if he left the room with the maps and captain, the maps would get wet and be ruined if they had continued exposure. Yurim looked over the crew, motioning for one of them to stand. Yurim smirked, "Your jacket and pants. Hand'em over." Perhaps this one was particularly cowardly, their pants and jacket were off in moments and Yurim picked them up, he could come back for the maps if he actually needed them, but for now he had more important things to do. He marched the captain and himself through the rain, leaving his allies to do whatever with the rest. He heard the grappling hooks but kept on moving, moving was more important now. What happened next almost made him jump, it was the Dalca gang. Had they escaped from one thing only to die by another? But it seemed like their luck had turned, they were helping them if anything. When one of them asked about the captain, Yurim shoved the captain over to him, "All yours pal. I'm gonna get my stuff back." ______________________________________________________________________ Yurim went to retrieve his things. He found with great displeasure that his shuriken were missing. He picked up both daggers of Torment and his magic scarf. He changed clothes in the armory, not caring who saw. He put on the stolen clothes and found the insides relatively dry, or at least more-so than his rags. He wrapped his scarf tightly around his neck and kept on moving as he strapped his daggers to his hips, he even snatches a fallen Flat brim hat to keep the water out of his eyes. Yurim immediately heads back to the Dalca brothers as he finds them talking about the Shadow. Yurim grinned as he went to sit down, taking up a bowl of soup as he went, "If you guys want the other navigators and stuff they should be in the map room, dunno if my allies killed 'em or not, I just took the captain hostage and some new clothes then vamoosed so I wouldn't get in the way." He took a few more spoonfuls before talking again, "The Shadow Plane isn't a bad place. It's like Imythess just... we don't see things like the Shadows do. I'm a half breed, my Dad is a creature from the Shadow Planes, sometimes he visits me in my dreams. The old bastard is probably still somewhere around this area, still trying to find women with some Shadows in their soul so he can try to have more kids. But if you're talking specifically about the Ethereal, yeah, he's a dick." |
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| Glug Photall | Mon Oct 3, 2016 9:18 pm Post #82 |
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“Distrust is the reason I’m still here,” he replied in severe annoyance, not even bothering to hide his dislike of the brothers thus far. “And what I say is truth, Viktor. There are places so thick with every kind of thief, murderer, and worse that you can imagine that you’ll be lucky to get out with no money, assuming you’re dangerous enough to get out in the first place.” The goblins eyes spoke of hard times and dangerous tales, yes. But there was some truth to what he said. That not-so-hidden island beyond Imythessian shores, for example, where pirates were sometimes the nicest kinds of folk you would meet - and not in a good way…true, Imythess didn’t have a lot of such places, but there were a few around…if one knew where to go. “I’m not in the mood to wade into someone else’s plot only to end up dead or worse. I’ve already seen worse, and I won’t be caged again. So when I ask if someone can be trusted, I’m asking more for their sake than mine.” The look in his eyes was more dangerous now, better defined - a warning, though it wasn’t clear whether it was for the Dalca Brothers or someone else. But he was interrupted by the silent one coming in and baring her fangs…so she was a werewolf. At least, that’s what her mouth would suggest. That was good to know. And then, once again, the less mature brother proved how childish he was. But Glug decided to ignore him for now. Viktor was clearly the brains of the gang. “How long until we reach this Nine Angels?” Edited by Glug Photall, Mon Oct 3, 2016 9:19 pm.
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| Alexandra | Mon Oct 3, 2016 9:37 pm Post #83 |
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Caedis appeared and suggested Alex receive a grafted limb. She shook her head. "I'm not interested in a replacement. Yet." Her eyes lingered, mildly disgusted, at the offered appendage. She returned her attention to Zuraw. She tentatively wrapped her arm around the woman and pulled her closer, soup cup left unattended on the table. A mask was offered and Alex smiled. "Someone else will have to put it on me. I'm not quite sure how." It was a good idea however. She thought up something more stylish in her head. "But this Czajka, she knows about my eyes? I'll have to ask her questions. Lots. But I believe you can use it. Everything has a...pattern. A formula. A rune. Something that controls it, a culture even. With a bit more digging, perhaps we could figure out a way to really use it." Edited by Alexandra, Mon Oct 3, 2016 9:38 pm.
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| Arthur | Mon Oct 3, 2016 10:48 pm Post #84 |
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Arthur ate his soup and listened when the man asked who Antonio was he answered "The guy who hired all of us Dalcas. Antonio Krupin. The reason we are all here enjoying Balefire's hospitality to zonkas. I am gona end him, he got a collar around my neck and I am going to show him why you don't collar someone like me." He growled the last part anger clear in his words. Memories tried to surface but he pushed them away. He watched others enter and he listened to Glug ask questions about the job. Arthur was curious about it to. He would not get stung twice. When Zuraw came in all huffed up he wondered what happened. He wondered how she was taking all this being betrayed by her boss. He sidled on over to her and sat down as she gobbled her food in anger. He said," You know if you take it slow you might enjoy it more. Somethings pissed you off I can tell. You want to talk about it or write about it". He looked at her some concern in his eyes. More went through his mind though. He could use her to get to Antonio and end him. Still he hoped she would not mind after all she had been betrayed. Or had she that could not be seen. Then he heard talk of the Shadow plane. Arthur said," Dont make deals with any plane of Shadow or Darkness if you can help it. They are while not evil not entirely good, They do what the do because they can do it." That was his summary of them though Arthur deal little with them. He then asked Dalcas," What can we expect on this job of yours? What resistance if any? What kind of force should we bring?" |
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| Luca | Mon Oct 3, 2016 11:20 pm Post #85 |
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The fire and the bodies had warmed up the staff quarters a bit, almost all the other pariahs were here it looked like chatting up a storm among each other. The offer of soup was readily taken. It'd been a long time since she'd eaten, and with the strenuous workout from the riot and Lore, Anci had been jokingly contemplating taking Tanya's arm from Caedis and eating it. The sight of Zuraw in the troubled state she was in twisted Anci's insides up over the joke, even if it had just been a thought. If she wasn't starving, Anci would have passed up on eating for the moment. "Thanks, not just for the soup but for showing up. It was a helpful..." She paused, trying to formulate the phrase. "Twist of the actions! I do not know if we would have been able to stop or escape the other boat on our own. What are you doing out here in this cold? Freeing a friend?" It'd been awkward trying to eat while talking, but she really wanted to thank them for their help. She also really wanted to eat. Doing both at the same time wasn't the most graceful thing, but she was wearing the clothes of a dead person. Manners weren't much of a concern. Anci was doing her best to avoid looking at Zuraw while she ate. She hadn't known the half-wolf for very long, but she felt responsible for the situation. They'd pressed without taking a lot of time to really get to know her very well. Lore had a good idea thanks to the ethereal plane, but that only went so far. While averting her gaze she happened to catch that fact that Alex was short an arm and a shoulder. " - - - - Godzilla It was a moment of deja vu, having a polite conversation with one of the more monstrous people she'd met in Imythess. There were people across the sea that had been afflicted or voluntarily changed to the point they weren't even humanoid, but were the most graceful socialites she had gotten to speak with. Most of them though hadn't smashed a person to death inside of a cell though. Most. "I, uh, forgive me I am not familiar with some of these words. What do you mean by utopia and dystopia? Are they a way of being that you have passed through?" She paused, hopeful for an explanation. "I take it Abnathea your home land?" Edited by Luca, Wed Oct 5, 2016 1:16 am.
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| Keter | Mon Oct 3, 2016 11:58 pm Post #86 |
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"You definitely could have benefited from a bodyguard in the tournament." Keter to the little green man between bowls of soup, only going quiet to eat more. He was clearly hungrier than he had thought, but paid it no mind, "I got to you easy back then, and Shadowdancers seem to be pretty common around here. A shadowdancer who knows the area can be more dangerous than one in a tournament, but I can help against that. I won't draw too much attention, and in case things get rough I can move you to a good spot to shoot arrows from very quickly. Plus you actually seem clever, like I could trust you not to do something stupid." Keter went quiet again only to down another bowl of soup, something he was actually starting to take a liking to the taste of. More people were showing up in the room, starting to get more information from the Dalca Brothers. Things seemed to finally be hitting a sort of equilibrium in the area. With any luck they could keep from walking headfirst into another trap like last time. |
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| Glug Photall | Tue Oct 4, 2016 12:06 am Post #87 |
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Glug snorted, but Keter wasn't lying. Glug knew how to fight pretty well, but that was against opponents who weren't Shadow Dancers. He was stealthy as could be on his own, but he was no Shadow Dancer himself. He shrugged. At the moment, all he could do was use his bow as a veritable club. It was strong enough to take it, certainly, but he'd rather use it for its intended purpose. "Soon as I get some arrows and a cigar, I'll be a little happier. The smoke helps me think." Glug finally went back to the soup himself, getting himself a second bowl. He might as well fill up while he was here; in Nine Angels, he probably wouldn't have the chance. He left briefly for the loo before coming back, feeling much more refreshed, and got himself a third bowl. No sense in wasting the opportunity. The soup was still nice and hot, and the spices were pleasant enough - certainly better than anything he could cook on the road. |
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| Carmen | Tue Oct 4, 2016 12:08 am Post #88 |
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Carmen finds herself thrust into the backseat of this suddenly crowded conversation. It becomes increasingly difficult to get a word in edgewise, but between the back and forth she does manage to ask two more questions of the brothers. “The rest of the prisoners, you’re taking them to Miss Bacek. But the civilians. What happens to them? And the mines you speak of. What are they mining?” Shortly after hearing her answer, Zuraw bursts in, gobbling up the soup like it was the first meal she’d seen in weeks. The sight, and the smell, makes Carmen’s stomach roll in fits. She tactfully excuses herself to he back of the room to save from vomiting again. With one hand she strokes Cinder’s wet fur, letting him curl close around her neck, which helps warm them both. Her other hand slips into one of the inside pockets of her long jacket. Carmen’s fingers toy with the ring hidden there, feelings its edges, stroking its curves, and caressing the facets of the cradled jewel. All the while, she quietly imagines her revenge against Krupin and whoever else had a hand in this travesty of justice. |
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| Storyteller[ST] | Tue Oct 4, 2016 1:34 am Post #89 |
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Dalcas and Zuraw "Oh, yeah, the creatures from the Shadow Plane are just part of life here," Viktor adds to your comment, Yurim. "The plane itself -- whether you call it the Shadow Plane, the Ethereal, whatever -- is what you need to be careful about. It's just more... intimate than most planes, you know? Hah! I like how you decided it was a 'he.'" Glug, you get quite annoyed with Viktor's attempt at friendliness. The older Dalca tolerates your response with a slight smile on his face. He looks like he's fighting the urge to say something. You verbally throw your weight around a bit for good measure, reminding this nobody (and everyone listening) that you're a force to be reckoned with. He's not polite enough to pretend to be intimidated or even moved by your tirade, but he is polite enough to keep his manner calm and neutral. He even maintains his amiable demeanor when responding to your question about how long the barge is out from Nine Angels. "A few hours. Not far at all." Alexandra, Zuraw takes the mask on your behalf and ties the thin leather cord so it's secured to the back of your head. With all your fluffy hair covering up the straps, it doesn't look nearly as silly on you as it did on Yevhen. He gives you a thumbs-up, but then you suggest to him that those things could be understood. "Are you saying the Ethereal can be harnessed? That's scary talk. No one even knows much about it. And the people who pull spells from it are gibbering mad or on their way. Believe me, there were tons in my asylum!" "Hey." Viktor's eyes harden -- the first time that you've seen it coming from him. "Don't talk about that to strangers." "Sorry." Arthur, you try to open communications with Zuraw. She puts on a sheepish face and gives a friendly but dismissive handwave, as if telling you not to worry about her. You go back to talking to the Dalca brothers, asking viable questions about the job. "It's probably going to be easy. Best case scenario you just walk on into the Howling Dogs, give her the stuff, and you're done. Worst case scenario Czajka's [removed]ed off somewhere or there's trouble in town. As far as forces go, the more the merrier. A good general rule for living in Nine Angels." Anci, you're a bit late coming in but Viktor is glad to offer you some soup and explain the situation. He explains to you everything he's already explained to the others. "Moving big groups of people ain't so much different from moving cattle!" he adds. "And once the prisoners get offloaded at Nine Angels, they're rounded up by Bacek's Balefiren and Istani goons. She don't have a lot of them, but they're some of the meanest most hard-bitten folks in Marble County. Eyes as cold as winter. Hah, there's a tip for y'all: if you meet anyone that's got the backswamp stare, understand that they don't [removed] around." Carmen, you slip some more useful questions in edgewise. Man, this room is getting a bit cozy, huh? You ask what the Dalcas do with the civilian staff on the prison barges. "Oh, you mean like the ice-pushers and the Captain and stuff? I just tell them, 'welcome to Nine Angels! Good luck!' They're tough folks, they can last a little while usually." You also ask what's mined around here. "Lots of things, but the hot ticket is silver. True-bred Darkest Gloomwood werewolves, the glowy ones like that hungry young lady over there? They got hellish regeneration. Like wound-heals-as-your-blade-is-leaving-it scary quick. Unless you got silver, then they're just tough but they cut fairly normal. Sheesh, freaking werewolves are no joke around here." Ansgar "A utopia is a perfect land where people are happy and want for nothing. A dystopia is the opposite -- a land in which everything is driven to its negative extremes, in which people fight for the bare basics of survival. Sometimes even thought itself is crushed. A hellish land such as, well, this. In the case of Gloomwood, it appears trust is the greatest thing suppressed." Ansgar gestures all around you, Anci. "My homeland, Abnathea, is a utopia. No one has to do grueling, tedious work. They can devote their minds to higher pursuits such as art and magic. Everyone is well-educated and entitled to a comfortable life, thanks to the government Doctrines. I myself am a scholar of philosophy, which is the mental pursuit of understanding... well, existence itself, perhaps!" He laughs at his oversimplification. |
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| Glug Photall | Tue Oct 4, 2016 3:34 am Post #90 |
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Glug took careful note of the mention of silver being the main thing mined. If that was the case, there might be plenty to go around…maybe in the form of arrows? “How’s the trade in Nine Angels?” he asks, trying not to piss off anyone with his foul mood any more than he probably already had. “Good prices? What about weapons? Armour? You said the town’s on its last legs. What’s it got left?” Glug had a bad habit: he tended to obsess over the things he didn’t have. True, in this case, it was something he desperately needed if he was to make proper use of his primary (currently his only) weapon and his portable siege tower, but he had this tendency in general. Silver or not, it was arrows he needed at the moment. And if silver was mined here, he might be able to get some arrows relatively cheap; that would also give him an extra bit of security should the silent werewolf nearby decide he or anyone else was a problem that needed to be dealt with. But on the other hand, if the town was dying, the prices might be so jacked up that it wouldn’t be worth sticking around. Viktor seemed to think thirty notes was enough to survive for a while, but weapons and what-not were another matter entirely. He could deal with not having a bit of drink every now and then or a cigar periodically; he mostly traded meat and such for them. But without arrows, he couldn’t even hunt, and thirty notes really would only last him so long even if he was just sticking around. So a job bigger than delivering something would be necessary, and he’d probably spend the notes on things he needed rather than staying at an inn or some such. He had survived outside of cities for a long time, and he knew his way around the wilderness just enough to keep himself out of the hands of those who disliked him without starving himself to death. He also wasn’t too uncomfortable with the idea of being in a place that might have people in it who weren’t exactly trustworthy, as it meant that he probably wouldn’t be looked at for his skin all that closely. He’d still have to keep his head down and his mouth shut once he got there, of course. But all this was a few hours away, anyway. Edited by Glug Photall, Tue Oct 4, 2016 3:36 am.
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8:40 AM Jul 11

