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"Lead the way then. Wish i could illuminate this place better, but i can't attract attention." Hecate tries to stick by the shadows while following Vanessa.
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Mar 2, 2013 00:32
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| # ? Apr 28, 2024 16:53 |
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Vanessa and Hecate: You duck in through a large open gate and discover the stables, where you can retrieve Vanessa's horse and beat a hasty retreat. Doubly good because you hear dogs howl nearby, but you're free to escape Somber Hill House before they can catch you. Everyone Else: Going to assume everybody flees and avoids bumping into the Tank Patrol and do a big post later tonight or tomorrow, if y'all remain silent.
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Mar 2, 2013 14:21
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 Oreom Bonne".. pains in m'goddamn rear end .." Oreom mutters, ducking his head reflexively at the sudden burst of gunfire, and growing legitimately pissed off in all the time it takes for kindling to light up. Because he was shot at? No, because the dwarf was hit, and despite all intentions otherwise, Oreom did have something that was occasionally like a conscience living deep down inside of him. Not like, a big one or anything, but one that at least kept him from actively letting people die in the street when they were working with him and it happened right in front of him. Why couldn't Olimar just have gotten himself killed behind closed doors somewhere down in the mansion, so that he might've not cared at all by the time he was halfway through his drinks? Instead, bristling, he snaps to attention and barely hesitates. Carelessly shoving the giant mace he's been lugging about into his travel sack as he lunges forward, the pack swallowing it up until just the handle juts out, he misses the chance to catch Olimar falling to the ground but is there to grab his arm when he stumbles back up to his knees, lending his natural quickness to help pull the dwarf along in their flight. "Cheese it!" he growls, sparing his other hand for a well-timed bird to be flipped in Carbon's general direction. If I should roll something for the escape just say so :V
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Mar 2, 2013 16:02
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((OOC, I had intended on meeting with the dwarven tank unit and leading them to the mindflayer but since I'm hurt now I'll just go along with Oreom so as not to die))
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Mar 2, 2013 18:16
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Vanessa is out of there. Blech.
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Mar 3, 2013 13:16
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Olimar: Sometime during all of this, you can probably get a Healing spell or a Take 10 Heal check to stop bleeding out and get restored to 1 HP, at least. Consider yourself probably not dying! You all escape! Alive! Mostly. You retreat back to the only spot you can think of to make the drop-off, the Besotted Beholder. The crowd has really picked up and you have to shove your way to the front to petition a half-ogre in a tidy suit-vest and too-short trousers to hear you out. He recognizes Hecate... eventually... and lets you all in. You're barely able to get comfortable before a scruffy looking Human guy in a rough, patchy looking set of what were once upper-class duds confronts you, glaring at Hecate intently beneath a head of disheveled black hair. Hecate can recognize him as Louis, one of Barnabus' other fine up and coming young "assistants." Hecate: He speaks under his breath to Hecate alone. "If you have the extra for the boss, m'lady, drop it off and get lost. You've got heat on you!" Barnabus did ask you to give him some extra dirt on Carbon... to give it to him, and him alone. This is your chance to pass it on. He speaks up and looks around Hecate to the others, flicking his wrist and instantly producing a tattered, hopelessly beat-up business card. It refers you to one of the dozen dumps that surround the city, growing daily as the city does. Seems to refer you to a Mister Herbert Wills."I'm sorry, but Dr. Beltway has retired for the night to a dear friend's place. So get the Hells out, would you?" He gestures over your heads and it seems many Bouncers have slipped between the crowd to find you all. Louis gives Hecate a too-pleasant smile and wave as you're all led out. The "Pelor "Wills" It Dump" has a hand-painted sign in a state of wash-out at the front of it's simple fenced in confines, one of the larger dumps in the city not by merit or endurance but by simple determination, as it seems Herbert has gone out of his way to have extra things hauled and to even claim unwanted bits from other dumps! Labels on many boxes and shipping pallets tell the tale and you feel slightly uneasy as you come to a home-made shack with two floors, the second precariously set atop the walls of sheet iron bolted, welded and generally suggested to stay together. The front door is decorated magnificently with a set of stuffed and mounted wild bobcats in ferocious mid-roar and paw swipe. A sign beneath the knocker reads "Trespassers will be shot. Solicitors will be shot twice." in another lovingly hand-made gesture. Knock Knock. Knock Knock. The poorly made walls conceal no sounds and you hear somebody shout a curse and remove something solid and metal from a loudly clanging wall rack. A calmer voice cuts in and blocks the first's wrath and the door shakes a bit, then about four locks are audibly undone. The door opens halfway and Dr. Beltway looks through it to you all. "... All of you came back? I'm impressed. Let's hear it, and quickly. Barnabus' men told me that... something happened, and I need to know where you stand." Everyone: This is it, lay out everything you do, turn-in, report and say in one post! It's Mission Complete time!
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Mar 3, 2013 15:44
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Nessa cuts to the chase. "Richard, Carbon's insane. He has a mind flayer, only barely contained, and is working on some sort of antimagic technology. Likely testing methods of containment and nullification on the flayer." She holds up the device. "He's miniaturized it, but the effect is imperfect. This device produces a small antimagic field. Although this suppresses most regular magic, it was ineffective against a full-grown flayer. I was briefly dominated through the field before I was able to shake it off and flee." She glances at Hecate. "He's also got this 'patent' business, but I think it's simply a cover to accumulate more flayer technology. If I were a pessimist, I'd say he's been enthralled by the flayer and this is all a plot for it to accumulate more power, but that doesn't fit with the flayer's actual behavior. So, contained, but only barely."
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Mar 3, 2013 16:00
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Hecate shrugs at the multitude of people on the Beholder. Hopefully if Carbon's group comes, she could escape by mingling with the rest of the people. As Louis presents himself to her, she approaches him and whispers: "There's a barely contained Flayer on Carbon's basement powering his 'Inventions'. The Colonel knows we saw it, but removing it might be a problem due to the fact the magical protections were tampered. If one moves quickly, he could still find the creature. We almost got Flora Carbon as hostage too, but the dinguses let her escape while we were briefly separated. Barnabus should keep an eye for the Dwarven houses. He's going to buy weapons from them." She pauses for a bit, thinking. "And we need to get a safe place to stay, either inside or outside of Geareg." The deed is done, now it's up to Vanessa to talk with the good Doctor. Still, she can't feel that this whole affair was a complete piece of poo poo.
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Mar 3, 2013 16:48
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 : "For whatever it's worth, I got some of his pers'nal effects. Coupla letters here to a business partner about gods-know-what, but it's shifty enough to be usin' assumed names and code. This here 'Cogswheel' got some sorta mutually-beneficial business matter with Carbon, and this lad Sprocketstone is set on the up-and-up thanks to a recommendation Carbon ain'tn't got around to signin' yet." Lefty points out the postdate on the letter. "Maybe they ain't the same business, but it's something to look into, yeah?""I got this bit veez-ah-vee Duke Braun, too, but I dunno if it's the sorta thing you're lookin' for." If the title deeds seemed legitimate, and my impression is that they did, Lefty keeps them to himself. If anyone has filled Lefty in on where exactly Flora was found, he will point out that it's mighty suspicious for a mere chit of a girl to be throwin' around spells and vanishin' from sight considerin' where you found her. It might not be Carbon what's enthralled.
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Mar 3, 2013 21:30
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Oli looks tired and hurt but he merely sits at the bar and drinks while he listens to you guys talk. He lets out little grunt and grumbling sounds every now and then but seems a bit too annoyed to actually put in some conversation.
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Mar 3, 2013 23:00
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For the first time since you've met him, Richard looks genuinely worried. He opens the door wide and invites you in, calling over his shoulder. "They're with me!" A Halfling man carrying a triple-barreled rifle with three equally impractical scopes stands at the nearest doorway to the adjacent kitchen and looks disappointed for a moment, tiny brow sinking with despair. "Oh. Well, you know I like to be prepared, Rich! I heard some fellas blew up a mansion!" He's dressed in his finest finery and looks as though he just came in the front door before you arrived, dressed with a rugged and solidly stitched coat and polished boots. An old outfit, but trustworthy.  Richard leads you in through a front room with a bear's top half stuffed and mounted to greet visitors next to a bench and several banged up coat-trees holding a half-dozen coats, shirts and hats in varying states of patchwork, but all well-kept and clean. A bin next to the trees holds hundreds of mixed shell casings. In the next room a roaring fire has the room well lit and toasty. There are a dozen mismatched sets of furred, leather or padded chairs and three sofas spread around the room in haphazard circles and a dozen bundled up quilts spread out among them. A large wooden liquor cabinet of impeccable wood but covered in scratches and dents is placed against one wall and is generously open with chipped glasses set out. Richard sits near the fire and reviews the letters Lefty has given him and the device Vanessa gives him, weighing things carefully with one hand in thought and sipping from a glass of liquor in the other. "I hate to say it, but the Flayer may not be the biggest thing if you don't have too much definitive proof. I... I'm not sure how well I can trust the lot of you just yet. You'd need to tell me more about what went on down there." He flicks through the letters. "I'm impressed, son. This is a direct link to the Dwarven Senate. Blackmail, maybe... kickbacks, definitely." He pinches the bridge of his nose and half-grins at Lefty, then chuckles and shakes his head as he reaches for his glass again. "Dwarves take law a bit more seriously than Humans. It can really work in our favor this time." "Wry... Wry... Cyrus Wry is a professional wizard. I've met him before. I think you've overlooked something. If Wry is there and he's vouching for this girl, that means she probably has a talent for magic. Great Wizards are rare to find and harder to teach, so a natural talent... it'd make Carbon a lucky man if I wasn't about to bite him in the rear end. Looks like he wanted to make Flora an asset as a mage to Draunt. Braun's a house name there." Herbert sets his rifle on a wall frame and begins pouring a glass of liquor before draining it quickly and just carrying a bottle with him. He collapses into his favorite bear-fur high-back coat next to the fireplace and kicks his feet up on a wooden stool made of two halves of different stools nailed together and covered with a patched leather pad. He gestures with his bottle at you all. "Make yourselves at home! Relax!"
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Mar 4, 2013 04:21
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Nessa sighs at Richard. "Look. There was a flayer, I've seen them before. Hell, I've been dominated by them before, it was exactly the same experience." She grumbles. "Maybe it was something else, something lesser, but that's still extremely troubling. I got out the moment I realized the device wouldn't be able to protect me, and the assurance of the device was the only reason I even approached the thing in the first place. According to the others, it was held in some sort of gel, and contained by these runes, that a few of the others were dominated into partially breaking. Even at their best the protections apparently weren't enough to fully contain it." She shrugs. "I'm not sure what proof there could be. I'd have liked to have brought back its head, but I wasn't going to risk going in further in that situation, and those runes are both vital to its containment and presumably novel, so also useless as proof. I'm aware my word wouldn't be enough to go after Carbon in public, but between you and me I know what I saw."
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Mar 4, 2013 05:20
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 P'ui, Ratfolk PoisonerP'ui produces the logbook she had picked up in the hidden basement of the mansion. "This is the most compelling bit of evidence that This One found. Logs of capture, torture, murder, and dissection. Possibly, a link to Necromancy? She had also captured the Carbon's daughter and planned to interrogate her, but unfortunately..." she turns to the others, with a sneer "Her plans were foiled due to the inability of Apes to listen. Such big, ridiculous ears they have, and yet they are incapable of hearing." She has a seat in a chair, rubbing her paws together with frustration. "This one witnessed Her 'allies' bumble through every possible situation, reveal details of Our mission, even name one of Our employers in a wild fit of incompetence. She had prepared a perfect plan - simply, to use The Flora as leverage to exit through the front door while She burned the mansion to the ground to distract The Carbon's guards and the emergency authorities. If Her plan had been followed, all would have returned with their origins a mystery and a valuable witness and piece of leverage in tow. Instead, half of our Apes offered themselves up as hostage while the other half followed her into the basement, after She gave specific instructions not to do so." "This one realizes We are a team, but She is a tactician and trickster, and when Her team hamstrings Her ability to either ply tactics or trickery, it becomes impossible for Her to reach Her full potential." She glares again. "Perhaps on the next job They will consider Her ideas better. Certainly it cannot go worse than ignoring them."
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Mar 4, 2013 06:48
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Hecate sighs as the halfling mentions mansion-exploding, but just walks on. "Great impression we left" she mutters while walking to the liquor cabinet, pouring a cup of whiskey for herself. After such a night, the sorceress really deserved it. And while Richard is one that would do nothing with the information about the Flayer... Well, Barnabus is one who could seize the opportunity. "Good talk from one that almost freed the Flayer and ruined the negotiation with Carbon as we were leaving, Rat." she snarks at P'Ui while crossing her arms. "In fact, the monster was almost liberated not once, but twice, which raises some questions at the mind fitness of the ones supposed to support me. But griping about each other is not what we must do now. Despite the adversities, the entire team performed... Adequately, considering the situation. And we have something to show for it, the device whose schematics will make every single of ones incredibly rich, and ruin Carbon's plans as well."
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Mar 4, 2013 10:52
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Nessa snorts, and grumbles under her breath. "I will freely admit I'm vulnerable to flayers. See what I've seen, get your brain jerked around like a puppet on strings for weeks on end, lucky I'm still even sane." She taps her head nervously. "drat thing needs to die. Could start up the war again."
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Mar 4, 2013 11:01
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: "Nobody ain't voolnerable to flayers. Flayin' minds is what they do. 'Swhy they call 'em that." Lefty's stomach groans. It's been a long night, and he could just about flay a nice steak and kidney pie or something. Kidney flayer, that's what he'd be. To P'ui: "Lemme tell ya a story about a guy I knew back home, we called 'em 'Bugshouse' 'cause damned if he didn't belong in one. Ended up botchin' a job so bad he made all us tonight look like pros. Got cornered by the Watch, so he grabbed a gel and put a knife to 'er throat an' told 'em to back off. They didn't listen, so he cut her up a little to prove 'e was serious. Turns out some people faint at the sighta blood, especially their own, so suddenly his ticket out turns into a hundred pounds or so o' deadweight. Soon as she hits the ground, so does he, only he's got so many crossbow bolts in 'im it looks like he ran into the arse-end of a manticore. Takin' hostages ain't the clean-an-perfect solution you think it is, to say nothin' about settin' high explosives." "Anyhow, all this political mess is a bit above me. I'm mostly just glad to know what I got out with ain't a buncha junk." Rtwo fucked around with this message at 13:47 on Mar 4, 2013 |
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Mar 4, 2013 13:40
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Plutonis posted:Hecate sighs as the halfling mentions mansion-exploding, but just walks on. "Great impression we left" she mutters while walking to the liquor cabinet, pouring a cup of whiskey for herself. After such a night, the sorceress really deserved it. And while Richard is one that would do nothing with the information about the Flayer... Well, Barnabus is one who could seize the opportunity. "This one ruined the negotiation? Does the Ape jest? She left the negotiation to You, provided You with the tools to negotiate your way out, told YOU not to follow her, told YOU that she had planned a distraction, and what did you do? You left the negotiation to the incompetent Dwarf and the Lefty, followed P'ui into the dark, abandoned The Flora and the negotiation to chase after a Flayer that was thoroughly bound. This one should have freed the Flayer just so it could have the satisfaction of watching it devour your tiny Ape brain! If you fools had followed the plan, we would still hold a hostage and The Carbon might not have had cause to extinguish the Flayer before inquiring parties could confirm it's existence."
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Mar 4, 2013 14:52
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Nessa frowns at P'ui. "We can only hope that Carbon destroys the drat thing."
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Mar 4, 2013 15:07
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Richard sets his drink down and then grips his face with his hand, pulling down and stretching it a bit in a desperate attempt to contain his emotions. "All of your arguments aside, you remember that I asked you to... not commit any crime at the Hill House, right? If you had actually brought a hostage, we'd be in over our heads." Herbert leans over in his chair and chuckles. "Next thing you know they'll tell ya they blew up the place, or that it was Carbon's! Heh!" He chuckles at first but Richard then breaks out in a cold sweat. "... Gods, it's not going to be a coincidence, is it?" He pockets the letters and passes the Anti-Magic Generator to Herbert as he gets up. "Herb, this device doesn't leave your care, got it?" Herbert nods and Richard begins heading for the door, stopping at it to look over his shoulder and solemnly address the room. "Vanessa, I'm going to trust you on this one and invoke one of the old war-time laws." Richard frowns. "If there's a Flayer, it'll be dealt with, but I don't think you'll like the fallout." He gives a curt half-wave. "Don't leave this place tonight." Richard departs. Herbert perks up at the last line and hops out of his chair. "Amateur criminals, huh? It happens to us all, y'know. Welcome to your hideout, try to lay low and all! Guests, eh?! S'alright, s'alright!" He holds an arm out and does a sweep of the room. The very top line of the wall is decorated with more glorious hunting trophies and one of them looks fresher, a very large and angry tusked boar. "I've a recent run of roast and plenty to share!" He dashes off to the kitchen larder.
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Mar 4, 2013 15:31
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Hecate starts to laugh as she puts the half-empty cup on the top of the Liquor cabinet, pointing at P'Ui. "And what a distraction it was indeed! Because it was the same explosion that everyone in Geareg is talking about, mister Beltway. Yes, you are completely right on Carbon's place blowing up, which will with no doubt bring a storm of shite right down our heads." She walks to around the so-called hideout, looking incredibly tense and nervous. "And I'd rather hope that he doesn't. If he gets rid of the creature and wipes out the evidence, we are definitely entering Geareg's most wanted, and that would mean that my rear end would be unwelcome on one-third of the continent."
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Mar 4, 2013 15:40
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P'ui picks grime from her dainty claws. "This One took the only option available when the 'face team' failed to be much in the way of 'face'. Her methods were clear from the start, besides. Experts in skullduggery are hired for skullduggery, and clients looking for matters historical inquire by different means. Beyond that, She recalls being asked not to kill anyone. Just being there uninvited was a crime, or is It unfamiliar with Geareg's statutes on trespass?"
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Mar 4, 2013 18:07
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Oli looks up as he is spoken about and drains his glass growling out, "incompetent? We did the sneaking part of our job quite well. After I realized there was a flayer and you all ruined like 4 escape plans I decided just to get caught and then turn myself into the dwarven police and use my rank to lead them to the den of the flayer to deal with it... But instead of doing a deal proper Carbon shot me in the back." He sighs and pours himself a drink and lights his pipe muttering. "You'd think a former military man would have more honor.... The exit to where the flayer is kept leads to <dwarvish>Geareg<dwarvish> it puts my people in danger if the beast escapes, I dunno if I can live with that. Something must be done."
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Mar 4, 2013 18:28
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 Thorgeisl Whose Laughter Stinks of Killing Thorgeisl remains dumbfounded by the utter failure in his eyes. The mess it had all devolved into. And so he sits dumbfounded and fuming, it does not help matters when he hears the ludicrous claim that they were mostly successful. He admits to himself that they may have been better off leaving when Carbon thought they were, yet inspecting the source of the magic to find the Mind Flayer was an important discovery. It would have been better if the Mind Flayer could have been killed, but it was beyond his means. Still things could have possibly been salvaged. Ignoring the girl, Thorgeisl was never clear on why they had brought her, and ignoring strange distractions, Thorgeisl was of the opinion that he and Hecate could have walked out, feigning having gotten lost. Though if Oreom had indeed stolen from his fallen opponent that may not have gone well. Still Thorgeisl fumes, and has nothing to say. Yes he felt it was a terrible failure, and yes he may have made things worse by attacking one of Carbon's guards. But you don't put a volatile person in that situation and keep lumping him in with others that supposedly caused the current problem with expecting said volatile person to give you a reason for such blame.
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Mar 4, 2013 21:34
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: "What, stay here? We know we got heat on us already, right? Are we sure Dick ain't runnin' off to the tank patrols to clear 'is own name? Nothin' pers'nal, but I know him about as well as I know tha rest o' ya, and given how tonight's gone so far I'm sure ya all know what I mean. I can't think of much worse punishment than bein' turned on, thrown in jail, an' havin' ta listen ta this rat yammer nonstop for weeks on end 'til I do a hemp fandango. We ain't even been paid yet an' off he goes."
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Mar 4, 2013 22:01
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Hecate lets out a distraught laugh. "Please, Lefty, worst case scenario is that Beltway made a deal with Carbon and made us the fall guys. If so, we are already as good as dead." She keeps pouring more Whiskey, drinking more and more as she tries to drown the yammering, bickering voices of her companions. "Wish they arrived already."
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Mar 4, 2013 22:12
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Sigh. : "Reckon you're right. Pour me one while you're at it, eh?"Lefty takes his drink, or pours one himself if Hecate won't do it, and wanders into the kitchen to see about some grub. Once properly fed, he'll sit down with the pen and paper -- some of it given as part of tonight's job, no less -- and start writing.
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Mar 5, 2013 00:01
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Everybody hits Level 5 and gets their 1,000 Gold! Herbert rockets back into the room and fires off his mouth with a sudden excitable start. "Listen to the lot of you! Bitter! Ungrateful! Untrusting! Nick Carbon may be a snake of a man and a weasel of an officer, but Richard Beltway would rip shrapnel out of yer gut and stuff it into his own if it'd save your life! There isn't a man alive I'd rather have backing me!" In the sudden defense, he has leapt onto one of his foot-stools holding a carving plate full of cold but hearty swine meat. He steps down with the pride and dignity of a King leaving his throne. "Look, Richard knows what he's doing and if you lot hosed around as bad as a fella with the scratches in whore house, it'll save your lives to listen to him and hold up here. Be sure to get to sleep early, you'll need some strength in ya to help me around here." Any frowns or protests are met with a cheerful grin! "Those who don't work, don't eat." Downtime: Every Player Reaches Level 5. (Looks like Pathfinder doesn't use XP for crafting costs at all.) You're all able to reap the benefits of many night's sleep and recoup to full HP/spells per day/craft and any other optional nonsense. Day 1: Early the next morning Richard rockets back into the Wills Homestead and wakes everybody up in a yelling match with Herbert, then ringing everybody out for actually murdering one of the Guards at Carbon's place. Richard: "Were my instructions too hard to follow?! Do you know what you've done?! Eight years... Eight Gods Damned years! Some poor sod grows up in the middle of the End of the World and by the grace of Pelor he survives it and for what, so that he can be lit on fire by this group of.. of men, of men and women, masquerading, walking around as decent folk!? I hope the weight of that life wasted is something you can appreciate because I could vomit my guts out." Richard departs and doesn't return for the rest of the day. All seems ominously quiet, except for when Herbert has you all help him chop up some firewood, clean the homestead and stack up a bunch of surplus military cots to provide space for you all to sleep in the basement(gents) and the attic(ladies.) Herbert continues as you're all doing something mind-numbing, like salvaging shells to make new bullets: "I told ya, Richard's a man... he can feel a loss as if it were his own boy. Course, he felt that loss, and lost his wife too, so I guess he'd rather never see anybody else suffer that." He caps his current shell and sets it aside, looking agape at you all. "You killed a man? COME ON! Bad form! When a robbery goes bad, you RUN FOR IT, you don't give the sheriff excuse to hang ya! Jeez... least yer as tough as they said, huh." He shakes his head and mumbles under his breath as he gets back to work. Day 3: Herbert's been passing you all the daily copy of the only newspaper in Geareg Above And Below, The Daily Force "All The News That's Fit To Craft", and today you see a bold front page headline. NICOLAS CARBON GUILTY OF ILLEGAL USE OF XENOTECH! Illithid Held In Captivity Beneath City! Somber Hill House Razed For The Public Good! The article details how an anonymous officer and associate of Carbon brought it to Dwarven authority under the Rite Of Accusation that a Mind Flayer was in the city. The Rite Of Accusation is a rumor to civilians but a matter of very strict honor to the Dwarven-based military that protected Geareg and survived the siege in the second half of the war. It basically gives the enlisted the right to level an accusation of enthrallment or worse if suspicion exists, but after thorough and very strict and Dwarven justice style interrogation, the Accuser forfeits is dishonorably discharged and tried instead if nothing is found. If it sounds barbaric or unfair in any sense of the word, you can only imagine that iron Dwarven wills were behind it and insuring it wasn't abused... and that the proliferation of Illithid agents necessitated it! Only a year ago, but alien times all the same! It seems Nick Carbon has been dishonorably discharged retroactively, stripped of all titles and property and is awaiting trial in Geareg Below, the Dwarven Capital. His small private army has been forcefully disbanded and the Somber Hill House and the Dwarven Fort below it were razed to the ground by sustained tank fire that didn't stop until thorough sweeps between firing sessions produced the front page photograph: a stoic Dwarven Tank Officer holding the disembodied head of the red Flayer you saw, pulped badly, but the iconic head + tentacle silhouette intact on half of it. There are remarks from Nick about the necessity of his act and his dream of understanding the enemy to guarantee public safety, but "many details of the investigation are impossible to know at this time.", the article concludes. Herbert looks up from his spot in his favorite chair, using a file to get his toe-nails under control. "Gods, about time! Now maybe you'll all stop moping about so much!" Unfortunately, you don't receive word from Richard or Barnbaus that day. Still hiding out! Day 6: Entertainment is getting harder to come by, although you guys do have good reason and a good abundance of time to engage in actual in-character training to your next character levels. Herbert recognizes the plight of you all and introduces you to "the finest collection in all of Geareg": trashy dime-store publications thrown out by the hundreds!  Yes, hundreds of old stories and hand-drawn accounts of war stories, saucy romances, inane advertisements for post-war "problems" often invented by the ad in question, stories in which the use of guns resolves all problems casually and flawlessly and makes the wielder more manly and virile to boot, and lastly loads of crude to expertly crafted drawings of women what don't wear no clothes. There are also regular books in the actual dump proper, but Herbert doesn't collect anywhere near as many of those! KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! Ah, it's Richard. He addresses you all, starting with Vanessa. "Like I said, I trust you, 'Nessa. I hope this shows it. Alright, look, I'm proud of you all... for the most part. It's not perfect, but we succeeded. I have a round of legal battles coming up and you all still having outstanding warrants. I just have some things to drop off to you, alright?" Everybody gets 1,000 Gold! Each, even! Richard passes out bank notes signed and backed by Barnabus Thistleweave himself. "Don't spend it all in one place, or more likely, just have Herb go out for you if you need things." Everybody can spend gold as if in a major city. "And well, there was only one other thing. I trust you've been able to keep, ah..." He snaps his fingers. "P'ui around?" He produces a small and very immaculate leather-bound tome and gives it to P'ui. "Somebody thought you should have this." Though small, it is filled from front to back with very precise hand-writing. It will take a few days to study thoroughly. "Look, this hasn't gone as well as it could, but I'm still confident in you all. Be patient and I'll clear your names." Richard gives you all a much more fond farewell and moves to depart, but is startled when Barnabus is standing outside the door. They greet each other a bit coldly before Barnabus steps inside alone. Barnabus: "No need for alarm... I wouldn't pay you if I was here on that sort of black-hearted business, would I? Ho ho." He ignores everybody after the opening remark and curtly gestures to Hecate, indicating that the two should speak alone in another room or immediately outside.
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Mar 5, 2013 03:21
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Day 1: Hecate can't help but oblige, helping Herbert by cleaning around the house with the help of her minor spells. Her hangover, however, prevents her from replying to Beltway's tirade about the poor little sod that they killed previously. Still, she wonders what kind of crocodile tears would be shed if her group was killed during the ruckus. Day 3: Hecate can't help but giggle fits as she reads the newspaper. Carbon, you incredible idiot. Why didn't you even tried to get rid of the Flayer the second she and the others escaped? She looks at Olimar, giving the closest of an approving smile he could have ever seen on her face, and the paranoid and glum attitude that she had during their hiding time appears to have dissipated. Still, she frowns after finishing the article, finding a loose end on the story of someone who fell from grace for not taking care of loose ends. "Why isn't Flora mentioned at all? They didn't mentioned what happened to her, neither if she was taken with her Father... *sigh* Should have tried to avoid exposing the girl from too much distress, i mean, look at how it turned out..." Day 6: Ah, vampire stories, those are definitely not Hecate's favorites. She can't help but sigh while casually reading one of the pulp novels about a 'Gunzerker' Dwarf happily shooting around a wasteland with a group of misfits much like her own. Still, it appears that Beltway and Barney's arrival means that something is up! She gives them a polite nod while holding her book, although she briefly puts it down before accepting her note. "Clear our names, huh? Good idea this one had the foresight to actually think of a pseudonym." Hecate says while pocketing her note and following Barnabus outside the room, smiling at him. She does try to whisper the Elf a little something before the two leave. "So, what are you doing with the Generator? If Beltway even let you near it for starters... Sorry about that, by the way, the knight girl was the one holding it at the time we met your men."
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Mar 5, 2013 03:59
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Nessa spends a lot of the time near Herbert, helping out with chopping firewood or the like. At times, she trains with her sword, working on drawing and striking as a single, smooth motion, or perfecting a single type of swing, doing it over and over for hours on end. As Hecate goes out with Barnabus, Nessa moves to talk with Richard. "Look, I'm really sorry about the situation. I appreciate you taking the time on these legal matters." She glances off to the side for a moment, then back. "I'm really sorry to ask for more favors, but there's two things that worry me. First, something Hecate said earlier, but what happened with the daughter? Also, is there some record of the confrontation with the flayer, or do you think it would be possible to speak with those who discovered it, what condition it was in, that sort of thing?"
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Mar 5, 2013 04:51
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Thorgeisl Whose Laughter Stinks of Killing Day 1: Thorgeisl fumes most of the first day. He spends it mostly either sitting in place, or pacing back and forth, as little surges of energy light up upon his form. He largely ignores Richard's outrage. When someone points a weapon at him, clearly intending on executing him, he was not about to spare their lives. Day 2: By now Thorgeisl has calmed down a bit. He even offers to help Hecate with the cleaning, and upkeep, of the room. Though he does not go around cleaning himself, even the use of his Prestidigitation. Instead he waves his hand and a small form of stone rises from the floor, after a moment's work he begins to speak in an odd gravely language and the small elemental begins to work. He then repeats the process again, waving his hand through the air, and this time the air swirls and takes form. Again he seems to work something out before speaking in another language, this one more airy. And again the small creature begins to work. Day 3: And now Thorgeisl is getting rather bored. He still hasn't really begun to interact with the others, and the so called literature was rather beneath him. To relieve himself of said boredom Thorgeisl once more waves his hand, and with a pop a couple surprisingly large Corgis appear, one with golden tinged fur the other with silver. Throughout the day he casually plays with them, or watches them play among themselves. After awhile he summons a small elemental of flame to clean up any possible messes, assuming celestial dogs ever need to relieve themselves, as well as to provide another source of light. Day 6: Again Thorgeisl is growing bored, even summoning various creatures is not helping anymore. The arrival of Richard and then Barnabus. He looks up hoping for something of interest, and while he appreciates getting paid he was hoping to be let out. Well now he can dwell on how to spend his pay, perhaps that will relieve his boredom.
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Mar 5, 2013 06:06
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Hecate: Walking among the piles of cement blocks, rusted suits of armor and a victory garden planted with old tin cans, Barnabus speaks cordially with you. "A charming little hovel. Not as good as it could be, yet cozy in it's own way. Warm, comforting, even familiar... a pleasant sight, for all it's faults." He gives a home-made scrap angel a sharp poke to the face, causing it to lean at an angle. "Much like yourself." He whips his head around and stares you down with a predatory malice. "My request was clear, was it not? In your little fact finding mission, you bring me a trump card." He presses closer to you, naturally guiding you back until you bump up against the walls of the house. "But as Louis tells it, you had a great deal of excuses, hearsay and... hmmm..." He pulls back for a second, hand to his chin and eyes to the sky in thought, then whips his head down closer, gritting his teeth. Reminds you of a shark. "You gave everything to them! To Richard! Carbon fell, but is that all my planning accounts for!? The lucky beneficiary of BLIND CHANCE?!" He sighs and relents a bit, speaking softly again. "Hecate, you are... no great person. You are barely even a good one." He leans in again and sets thumb and index finger to your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his head-on. "But you are still useful, so count your blessings. In the coming days, Richard will ask you for something. Agree to it and report back to me. You'll know what I mean." He pats you on the cheek, like dealing with a child, then turns away to leave. After several steps, he stops and hisses out. "We are not in this for team-building. We are in this to win, at any cost. Don't disappoint me again." And he departs the dump, and after a few minutes the strangely silent streets get their old foot traffic back, the occasional traveler, drifter or lost person. Reason enough to head back inside and resuming being on the hideout. Day 7: Herbert excitedly tells you of a gem of an article he found in the Daily Forge, hidden away on Page B12 or so. He tells you of this through the door of his in-door outhouse. "I reckon they caught out one of them Dwarven Senators getting kick-backs!" He begins to open the door but modesty or somebody's arm prevails and he just tosses the relevant paper out between the crack. House Bucklebar Under Strict New Trade Tariffs. Seems Carbon had an in with one of the Old Houses in Geareg Below, an ancient family of professional miners. The article is very dry and strictly business but Herbert insists that you just read between the lines. Day 9: Feeling a bit embarrassed for some reason, Herbert returns from a market trip with a much wider variety of food-stuffs, including a random assortment of produce. A welcome change of pace from his usual "I killed this critter" meat and potatoes diet he follows almost religiously. He complains loudly of vandals messing with his lawn fixtures that night after he notices it at all. Day 12: Recently Herbert has become a bit stir-crazy and seems to be a bit irritable about his lack of privacy, even in a house as large as his. He drafts you all to begin some basic firearm training, inviting you to practice with some old-fashioned single barrel rifles he calls "beginner's toys." He seems to have good advice for tightening spreads, adjusting stance and reacting to the impact of the shot. His lesson is interrupted halfway by Richard finally returning to you all. He's dressed in an old officer's coat that has dirt and large black spots along the bottom edges. "I want to apologize for the wait, my friends. But Dwarven law-men don't budge easy and they never bribe. The good ones, at least." He gives Olimar a polite nod, then clears his throat and hesitates a moment, thinking his words over before addressing you all again. "You've done as good as I could have hoped. Nick's reckless ambitions have been stopped. You've probably wondered what I have had to gain from this, or what I had against Carbon, or what I knew to send you against him at all." "The War took many things from us, and in the end it continues to. It gives us things, whether we are ready for them or not. Knowledge of electronium and psionics alone has increased ten-fold in the last year. We receive reports weekly of some living weapon or death ray being found by a farmer who can only hope it doesn't kill him or his family before somebody in the local milita can seize it for his own ends. That was Nick's game. He was simply the biggest local militia and he wanted his hands in the process. He wanted to run the front of it all and answer only to himself. Any protection, any guidance he would have offered to the world would be caught between his greed and his arrogance." Looking over to Vanessa first, Richard maintains a calm composure as he continues speaking to you all. "You don't want to hear it, but I agree with him in studying the Flayer. I do not believe that as we are, we could survive a return of the Illithid, or even any of their weapons that are one bit more dangerous than we're prepared for. However, I think he played with fire there. I'd rather we destroy anything we can't contain safely." He paces about the room as he speaks. "I'm getting ahead of myself. The news you want to hear is that I have cleared your warrants. In fact, I have copies on me." He produces wanted posters. To your great alarm, their are eight of them with relatively accurate portraits. "Nick Carbon isn't a man who mucks around when criminal elements are concerned. He ignores his own crimes, but he keeps his unit disciplined. Whatever you've done or said to him, he made note." Kidnapping, Arson, Theft, Assault, Robbery, Murder. Nick put together rather a lot of what every individual did that night! "But like I've said, you've been cleared. On a condition. The Dwarven Senate of Geareg Below and the Committees of Geareg Above have granted me the authority to take Carbon's place. But not with backroom deals or illegal, hidden holdings. No black market deals or private armies." "I'm here to recruit you to fight for the future of the planet, and to do so by acting as an international police force. We're not going to be doing flat-foot work, no no." He almost smiles, but smiles are hard to get out of Dr. Beltway. He shakes his head. "Our mission is to find, secure and catalogue the remains of the Illithid forces. To seize their technology, to reverse engineer it, to understand it. And when it's too dangerous, to destroy it. We will be the bright light of knowledge guiding Man towards the future. All new technology will pass through us first." "We will be granted authority to operate above any world government, to go where needed to retrieve these devices. And to deal with threats. We will make the world safe and inhabitable again in ALL parts." He pauses. "If it's a lot to take in, well, it is." He comes to a halt and holds his hands up, as it to plead to you for another moment of your time. "But these are the terms that the first government to support us will agree to. That Geareg will agree to. If you join up, your crimes will be buried. If you serve, you'll have some leeway to do what needs doing." "That is what I can offer you. You were originally scouted because you could get the job done, even if it was illegal, for a greater good. Because you were talented in some ways, even if they're nothing to be proud about. I want you to bring that to the greater good again, and I want you to be the first to join the Sensationalist Society." He makes a dusting his hands off motion. "And if you refuse, I won't be able to stop the law from following up these warrants." Doomykins fucked around with this message at 16:35 on Mar 5, 2013 |
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Mar 5, 2013 16:31
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Day 6: "Should have let me go all alone, Barney dear. Although i do recognize that if not for them, I'd never learn about the bloody Flayer. Still, the cat's out of the bag, and Beltway won't be able to guard the Generator like Carbon did. You can easily send one of your two-bit thugs to steal it, and the Gods know what one could do with the know-how on the building of such things. As foolish as Nicholas was, he did had a quite useful tool." Hecate shrugs as she absentmindedly looks around on the garden, stopping just as Barnabus closes into her, staring back at the Elf with an icy determination. "Or i could do it for you if what you say about my assistance being required by him again." She then spits on the ground after Barnabus leaves the garden, frantically thinking on her next course of action. What she does know, however, is that her association with that loathsome man will end sooner than what she expected for. That patronizing jackass will have what's coming to him, sooner or later. "I'm always on the winning side, Barney. Even if you aren't going to be there." Hecate whispers to herself while walking back inside the room where the others were. Day 12: Gah, why did she agreed to take part on these shooting lessons? Perhaps it was out of fear from her spells again becoming useless like when the Anti-Magic generator was turned on, yet the kickback of the guns against her shoulders made Hecate reconsider the thought process that lead her there. Even Beltway's sudden arrival was something of a relief to her, who puts the rifle down and starts to listen to his proposal. Ah, yes, study the Flayer for uses against them! She picks up her wanted poster, chuckling at the vision of 'Scarlet' the kidnapper. If anything, Geareg's prisons would be a desirable outcome compared to what would happen if a Duskborn was caught on Draunt. Her biggest crime is the blood of traitors and monsters on her. She can't help but try to think on whether Richard's true intentions lie on what he has told them. Such chivalry, such altruism! Yes, he's someone people would confide to keep their world-shattering weapons, and there's no way he would use them for his own interests! He's a fool to think that people would buy that, but perhaps the man doesn't even care. And after all, International authority is something far more becoming of her than being just one of Barnabus' subordinates competing for the filthy underworld of Geareg... And could even give her the means to defend herself from him if things get nasty. "Despite this absurdly droll name, i believe i have not much choice but to join." Join the winning side, always. Plutonis fucked around with this message at 02:48 on Mar 6, 2013 |
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Mar 5, 2013 18:47
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Thorgeisl Whose Laughter Stinks of Killing The days continue to pass drearily for Thorgeisl, who does not like being cooped up. Toward the end even trying to learn to shoot one of the guns ignites some interest. He wouldn't be particularly interested in it if not for the crushing boredom. At least it was something new to do. When Richard returns, with at least somewhat positive news, Thorgeisl picks up his warrant. A slight laugh escapes, the image makes him look rather more thuggish than normal. Yet it looks like he was accused of a great deal more than he had done. He listens to Richard's piece, and wants to laugh again but conceals it. He is beginning to see little difference between Richard and Carbon, perhaps Richard was more of an idealist and more upfront about his work with the people in the know, yet less confident and capable sounding than Carbon. Still taking the deal would allow Thorgeisl to travel in search of Mind Flayer remnants, to deal with them, not to mention it would be a great deal more convenient without the government hounding him. "Very well I will take you up one this."
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Mar 5, 2013 19:37
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Lefty isn't his usual chatty self for the first several days, but does try to strike up a conversation now and again. He doesn't expect to get far with most of the folks he's cooped up here with -- they're mostly the dour, taciturn sort and nobody wants to be here -- but goshdarnit he tries. He takes to his chores with an odd enthusiasm, happy to have some simple work to do. "Y'know, if I'da been able ta find a labor job like this when I got ta Geareg, I wouldn't be hidin' in some bolthole in tha first place!" is his general opinion. Doing a job in exchange for a few meals a day and a roof over his head is all the boy ever wanted, really. In between, he's writing letters. A lot of letters. The general thrust is in the OOC thread, since he's not exactly reading them aloud to everyone. And in response to Richard's offer: : "I... er... um... hmm. I dunno if I'm really cut out fer this sorta work, given how everything went back at Carbon's place. But it beats rottin' in a prison cell or swingin' from tha gallows for blowin' up some poncy bastard's mansion. I got my hesitations but I guess I ain't got much of a choice ta say no."
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Mar 5, 2013 20:11
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Oreom Bonne Oreom, unsurprisingly, didn't spend a whole lot of time with everyone else. Which wasn't to say he was being anti-social or anything, he just quickly got the distinct impression that very few of them were going to be easily bilked out of their share of the rewards no matter how many times he offered to play dice games with them, which quickly lead to him muttering about un-gullible cityfolk and sulking off to go practice swinging his new mace around quite a bit while waiting for .. whatever it was that took so long to get him a drat gun of his own. Oreom wasn't above threatening to bash in pretty girl's heads or anything obviously, but he might have really preferred to be able to just wave a barrel in some drat guard's face over needing to run up to them while hoping they were an exceptionally bad aim, so he spent some much of the time working out ways to get around that particular problem. Civilized people were remarkably against just running at one another and seeing who hit who first, it seemed. .. occasionally, Oreom idly worked on etching O+J into a crude heart shape in a wooden support with his fingernail, though it was scratchy enough to be meaningless crypticism to most anyone who might have seen it. When Richard finally came around to spring them from their going stir-crazy, Oreom had one major complaint. "Is this s'postea be ME!?" he all but snarled, snatching his wanted poster from his hand without preamble. The curl of his horn was all wrong, he did NOT have that stupid look on his face when he had his pipe hanging out of the corner of his lips, and his hair was nowhere near that listless! He was just about to demand he go back and tell Carbon to get a pair of goddamn eyes in his head and draw it more accurately when Richard got to the point of the posters being null and void anyhow -- not that that exactly made Oreom particularly happy, but it assuaged him anyway. Good, since the talk of the greater good certainly didn't. "What'ser pay?" he asked succinctly, with the distinct voice of someone not expecting to hear what he wanted to hear.
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Mar 6, 2013 22:25
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Olimar spends most of the first couple of days by himself, drinking and smoking most of the mornings through and spending his evenings recuperating from being shot in the back and almost killed. After a few days he seems rather healed, shockingly fast, but he is a dwarf. He begins spending his evenings doing light work like chopping firewood or practicing with his weapons, by the 10th day he is spending almost 5 hours a day training and walking around as much as he can. He doesn't really associate with the other much except for after dark when he sits around drinking and what not. He watches the firearms training before deeming them unruly and pulling out his massive composite longbow and using it to shoot through multiple barrels at once. The string on it sounds like it could cut a man's head off every time it snaps forward and the arrows rocket off it with a slight crying whistle. When Richard comes back with his proposal Olimar listens before responding, "I accept your terms, I will serve <dwarvish>Geareg<dwarvish> to the best of my ability with this unit in it's attempt to quell and investigate any remaining illithid forces. Maybe I will be able to test my mettle a bit before I finally die in battle." He grins wolfishly before growling, "So, where do we sign, Dwarven politicians don't let anything like this go by without it signed, signed again, and then signed in front of witnesses." He says the last whilst laughing lightly. ((OOC NOTE: Not trying to be annoying with the dwarvish tags, Olimar specifically says Geareg in dwarven to mean underground city and Geareg in common to mean uppercity. Because he's a dwarf and that is what they do))
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Mar 6, 2013 23:17
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Day 7 Vanessa goes off to an isolated part of the house, sitting in meditation. Day 8 She reappears, holding her sword up. It's glowing softly. "Ha! Finally. Took me long enough..." With a flick, the glow is silenced. She smiles at it, then sheathes it, relaxing and returning to work with Herbert. Day 12 Vanessa frowns at Richard. "I seem to have misjudged you, Dr. Beltway." She returns to the rifle, firing another shot at the targets, ponders for a bit, then looks back at him. "I gave Carbon my honor and loyalty because at the time I thought he was being straight with me. Misguided, but at least straight. You get neither. I'll go along with this as a passing job, nothing more." She stares at the rifle, then goes off to the rack to replace it.
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Mar 7, 2013 01:26
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Day 1: P'ui spends most of the day asleep on a sedan chair in the parlor, glancing up at Richard with a bleary, clouded eye. It had been days since she'd last slept, and when her weariness finally leaves her, it is near the midnight hour, and most of the house is deep in slumber. She busies herself with reading through every large tome she can get her hands on in the house, and then gathers together parchment and ink, busying herself with a long, meticulous list of instructions. If she was going to stay in this place, she was going to need some amenities retrieved, and given Richard's reaction to the death of an enemy, he could not imagine his reaction to the death of a servant. She would make sure even the gears of an Ape brain could turn well enough to retrieve her lab equipment. Day 3: P'ui has mostly made herself scarce for the last two days, doing assigned tasks in quiet, away from the others. Though she does not actively try to avoid the others, she has fallen into old habits, sleeping in quiet, out of the way corners and moving through crawlspaces and vents, taking long paths and staying low to the ground. It is mid-day when she delivers her instructions to Herbert. "This One does not require The Herbert to retrieve Her equipment, only an Ape capable of reading simple instruction. It is imperative that instruction is followed, as certain materials within are quite dangerous, and if anything is spilled or damaged, a great deal of harm could come. Please. This One is in Need, and our busywork is no satiation for Her idle hands." Day 6: P'ui engrosses herself in the new source of literature, having long exhausted everything she could get her hands on in the house. When Richard returns, she takes the leather-bound tome and nods. "This One was expecting something soon, though perhaps not so quickly. She thanks It's consideration." With the new text in hand, she is back to making herself scarce while she reads through it.
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Mar 7, 2013 05:35
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Day 7 P'ui has evicted the contents of a less used corner and set up her alchemy lab and distillery. Rows of neatly stacked jars and vials filled with various alchemical supplies, most of which are marked POISON in block capital letters. In her downtime from work on her poison brewing, she reads through the book she had been handed by Richard, careful to keep it close and on her person at all times. Day 9 P'ui takes a break to eat some carrots. Though she prefers raw meat, it proves to be a nice change of pace to fuel her continued efforts. Vials of oddly colored "finished" poison, some in liquid form, some in powder, are placed in padded boxes and sealed tight to prevent any possible spillage into the house. She works with great care and makes sure to shoo away anyone who gets too close to her supplies. She has taken to re-reading Herbert's collection of pulp serials, having now exhausted all the "proper" books in the house. Day 12 P'ui considers modifications that could be made to turn the rifles into poison delivery systems. Perhaps a hollowed bullet with a liquid core? She requests some books on firearms design and bench loading. When Richard arrives, she regards the proposal, weighing her options. With her freedom secured, she felt no obligation to stay, but her ends as they were, this may be her best chance to achieve them. "It's proposal is... Noted. This One's methods are known, and She thinks... Unappreciated, by The Beltway. She will work for It, if It understands what Her work entails. There is not much work for a poisoner if every time a thread is cut it is a grand tragedy. In Her wake, death follows, whether intentional or not. If It does not accept this, then We can have no contract."
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Mar 7, 2013 14:07
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P'ui: The tome is a hand-kept and detailed account of the Final Siege of Geareg, in which the Illithid overran the surface and descended into the Dwarven capital. It was believed that this would be the last stand for the Apes, as a sealed, highly populated area would be the perfect vector for any number of bio-weapons or undead fevers to sweep through and boost the numbers of the Mindless to a staggering high. There are detailed accounts of preparing to repel attacks, a company surviving ambushes and valiantly battling their way to rejoin the Dwarven army and guard their flank, demolishing a few tunnels to cut off a particularly early advancement from Rat-Folk led Necromancer force. It was a small contribution, but the unit sealed the advance off and protected a man who turned the tide of battle. Tiny Tom Digwinn, a young Gnomish Bard is said to have recited an entire verse of the mythical Words of Creation and undone the battle-prepared rituals of the Illithid, allowing for a counter-attack that cut down several prominent Illithid leaders and let the Dwarves reclaim the surface. The books ends with Nick Carbon's signature and his rank as leader of the heroic small military company. Richard makes his way around the room, shaking hands as each of you accepts. Hecate, Thorgeisl, he smiles at Lefty and quips. "If you're not cut out for this work, I guess all of the theft occurred as strange, unnatural phenomenon?" Leaning down to shake Olimar's hand. "Already signed. I've been in the city below for days." Taking care to not let Oreom get ahead of him and shaking his hand as hard as he could. "You'll be funded every month and it'll beat whatever you did before." An offered hand probably turned down and silence for Vanessa, then finally little P'ui. "I hear a great deal of Carbon's men were drugged into a deep sleep. You know, the kind without any headstones. Maybe save your killing for monsters?" He speaks with Herbert for a bit and Herbert runs off to get the Anti-Magic Generator, handing it back off to Richard. Rich addresses you all again. "This has the potential to become something great and to have the backing and oversight of every civilized nation in the world. We are not crooks or power-hungry schemers, we are the first line of defense in the new world. Your warrants will not hold up in Geareg's courts under my word, so you're free to go. But I expect you bright and early in two days at the Dennison Building." He begins to open the door to go, but stops himself and turns around again. "Right, your requests. Sorry." Clears his throat. "The Flayer is as dead as can be. There are men who have seen them firsthand and there is no way they would mistake the body found for any sort of fake. You have my assurance that when the army of Geareg is warned of Illithid, it razes the land and salts the earth." He looks about subtly for a bit, then at P'ui directly, then speaks to you all in general again. "I don't know what you said or did with her, but Carbon's daughter has already left Geareg. She said that there's nothing left for her here anymore and I'd say the Dwarven authorities made sure of that."  Panic! At Nabisco/Edie: You may now enter the game! After your latest spat with the Church of Pelor, they've decided to make good use of you and to put you very, very far away from them. You have been sent as a Representative of the Church, an Interested Party And Scholar and a Diplomat to the founding of something entirely new called the "Sensationalist Society", who claim they will begin protecting the world from loose Illithid technology and terrors and begin processing the tech for safe use by the public. Some sort of Magical Patent Office or something. Lots of travel, look for an old man named Doctor Richard Beltway at the Dennison Building on X morning. Sounds barely dumb enough to work, but there are very few outfits these days willing to even enter the land where the Illithid fought or camped. The Dennison Building... you can find a few old yellowed posters plastered up on the brick walls that surround the run-down place. You reckon that before the war, it was a really fine and top of the line Ironworks. After the siege, all that seems to be left is a lot of big brick buildings with broken down machinery inside of them and a few office buildings. Entering the factory seems a bit tricky with the condemned signs and the boarded up windows and doors, leaving the nearby Foreman's Office. Inside you find Richard and Herbert attempting to navigate, stack and unload dozens of crates and messy boxes, trying to keep room open for people to actually walk through the rooms or to access the dust-covered desks, filing cabinets, drafting and work tables. Richard greets you all cordially and hands off a round of fresh checks with the official markings of Geareg Above's Human/Dwarven council. You all receive an additional 250 Gold, Edie included. "How's that, Oreom? Every month you'll get enough to do your jobs. I don't actually care what you do with it but if you can't function after having that much for maintenance, food, travel and regional customs and bribes then you're hopeless and I might start running your checks through your squad leader first."
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Mar 7, 2013 15:01
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