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Recruitment and OOC thread is thataway - discuss rules, create characters and go OOC there. If you need to talk OOC in this thread use italics. THE SWORD OF THE BASTARD ELF ----- BUST THE BASTARD OUT OF THE BILGETON BRIG The gang is loitering at their regular, The Hovel and Harpy.  The Hovel and Harpy is a revolting dive, so loathsome that even bribe-hungry town guards are reluctant to go near the place. It caters to the slime de la slime of Bilgeton - if the noxious water of the Bilge could get up and walk it'd wander straight in through the door and get a rancid beer in a busted tankard watered down with itself and nobody would blink an eye. Anyway it's perfect for you seedy adventurers looking for a big score or (more likely) a small one. Bhrandon, Drumpf, Coccyx and Brandil are at best casual acquaintances, having travelled in the same circles for a while. Tonight they've all been summoned the The Hovel by their contact Nanker the Yanker, a low-level crook working for the Bilgeton mob. You all find yourselves across from each other at the infamous Scumbag's Table under the stairs. Nearby all the "fun" of the Hovel unfurls - there's a huge brawl going on in the fighting pit with at least two casualties so far, the tables are packed with boozy louts roaring at each other at the tops of their lungs, the bar's lined with the usual cretins waiting impatiently for the barkeep to eventually take their coin in exchange for cheap booze and poor service. The standing area is packed with drunkards stumbling against each other dangerously close to the javs boards, where idiots hurl javelins at full pelt into the wall from halfway across the room. Nanker's running a bit late which is usual for the pompous blowhard. Your menagerie of dogs and cats are underfoot and barely under control as you sit around the table regarding each other warily. This is a good time to get into character. Remember that Kandill and Drumf won't understand what the skeleton's saying but you can assume he's writing it down (though Kandill might not be able to read) or translating through Bhrandon if you want. Saint Isaias Boner fucked around with this message at 12:38 on Nov 20, 2016 |
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Nov 20, 2016 12:30
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:Bhrandon Fisting Tent posted:Drumpf Hermsgervørden posted:Coccyx Necroskowitz posted:Kandil Saint Isaias Boner fucked around with this message at 12:35 on Nov 20, 2016 |
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Nov 20, 2016 12:30
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:Bhrandon
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Nov 20, 2016 12:35
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 ELAN: 7 EFFORT: 80 FISTS: 1 Coccyx is startled out of a bleary reverie by the unhappy discovery of no more ale at all left in the mug. When confronted with such dire circumstance, he does what he always does, try to figure out where he is and what he's doing. Scumbaggery is second nature and he starts up from his seat to case the bar but after half a beat realizes that no, he's here all the drat time, this is the Hovel 'n Harpy and the only thing he's likely to find here is the massive tab he's run up. Having come to his senses, such as they are, Coccyx assesses his table mates. A revolting orange dwarf. Coccyx usually gets along pretty well with dwarves, when they are honest tradesworkers. "This one," for some reason half remembered, "is a son of bitch. There's an elf, probably good for nothing, fuckin' elves, loafing lazy shits, I'm not giving her so much a a burnt out match. Also a man, who the gently caress is this sad sack? What is he moaning about, and WHATTHEFUCKISBITINGMYFOOT?!" From the pocket of Coccyx' tattered pants, the Pewter Tongue shouts at full volume "GET hosed, SHITBERG" at the dog trying to eat his toe, which has the desired effect. Coccyx glares angrily around the table, but no one apologizes. Time for another drink. Taking the tongue out of his pocket, Coccyx waves it in the general direction of the bar, while it yells "Oi, Fuckface!" his customary way of summoning another round. Hermsgervørden fucked around with this message at 18:16 on Nov 20, 2016 |
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Nov 20, 2016 18:12
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Kandil Hovel and Harpy Bilgeton  ELAN: 4 EFFORT: 90 FISTS: 1 Kandil's glazed eyes and cross-eyed stare might make some onlookers think she was merely staring off into space, but those schooled in the Secrets of Elflore argue differently. They would note to those around them that she was in a sort of trance-like state, opening her mind to use her Elfsight, to expand her consciousness and commune with beings beyond the physical plane. However, these people are stupid and don't realize that the Secrets of Elflore was written as a joke to con tourists. Bhrandon's murmurring shakes Kandil from her trance and her arm instinctively shoots up toward him. She presses her hand full against his head, fingers splayed about his facial anatomy. "Shhhhh..." she grumbles blearily, "don't ruin this with talking, besides he probably doen't even do that for people anym-" her voice trails off as she finally begins to take in her surroundings. This certainly isn't the first time Kandil has been to "the H&H" as she and no one else call's it, though usually its by process of elimination after all her usual haunts have thrown her out. This may well be the first time she's come here voluntarily. Loathe as she is to do work she still needs to eat and the usual bunch of folks she mooches off of recently got scattered or thrown in the dungeon. The Bilgeton Guard came down hard on them after their last protest went sideways when Kandil sparked a race war. She turns away from her musing and regards Coccyx momentarily. She'd never "worked" with skeletons in the past although she did attract a brief following a while back during a labor strike. Weren't they supposed to be quieter? Leaning back, the sudden hardness of the chair causes her to jolt up. "Hey, anyone seen my cushion?" she complains as she roots around behind her, "It's like a special elf-pillow, it here a second ago..." As she swings her gaze around she locks eyes with a short-fingered, orange shitheap with an impish grin. "Hey!" she shouts, leaning forward, "who said you could grab that!?" She points at the mewling, burbling pile in his delicate fingers. Necroskowitz fucked around with this message at 09:28 on Nov 21, 2016 |
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Nov 21, 2016 02:51
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Puke the bartender, an unbelievably hairy and unsavory creep who'd be hanging from the gallows in a better city, responds to Coccyx's canned yell with an ugly sneer and returns to ignoring the other customers. Still, you've been seen which means that if he remembers he'll eventually show up your table with several tumblers of more or less randomly selected liquid. * Over the din and noise of the Hovel and Harpy, Bhrandon and Coccyx notice something unusual - Nanker's been here a while apparently because he's getting up from a table attended by a foursome of oafs other than yourselves. He looks around for a second, spots your table, and rudely begins muscling his way through the patrons towards you. The oafs he's been talking to - a rough looking bunch of humans with a fine collection of repeatedly-broken noses, missing teeth and scars partially visible under their dark hoods are watching Nanker's movements with something more than casual interest. Kandil and Drumpf are oblivious to this development, lost as they are in their conversation. Nanker eventually shoves his way over to your table under the stairs and, pulling a stool out from under some patsy that was sitting at the table behind him, he sits down, wearing his habitual unpleasant sneer. The ratty little man never looks like he's glad to see you. His dark hair is greasy, he doesn't look like he's ever slept and his bulging eyes flick between the exits as he continually plans his escape. Nanker's never going to make it into the Mob - he's a braggart, a coward and a famed onanist- but he's useful to them as a go-between and that scrap of extra power and influence is nearly enough for Nanker. Nanker just starts talking right over the top of whatever Kandil was trying to say to Drumpf. "Right. You've all done good by me so I'm going to do good by you. Here's your chance to get some serious money. Not one of your usual groatfather and hargroat scams." At this Chriss-T, who had been contentedly eating garbage and discarded fingers off the floor under the table, begins humping Nanker's leg vigorosly. Nanker responds by booting the mutt hard and continues. "A few bells ago the city guard arrested someone, a real bigshot, and dragged him off to the gatehouse. Now word comes down to me that Fat Olaf wants him out of there right now, and if the mob wants something it gets done. So I'm thinking, who do I know who can get this done? And I think of youse. Pay's 16 whole guilders, more than any of you've ever seen in one place. Plus whatever you can snake while you're at it. But don't get distracted." Nanker looks at you expectantly, his eyes darting back and forth between you as he gauges your reactions to this unusual and high-paid offer. OOC: I put a * in the text where I rolled a HICCUP test. These are tests against ELAN which don't use EFFORT and which I don't have to tell you about - but face to face you'd hear dice rolling so I want to let you know when it happens here too. This particular one was a perception check with a difficulty of 10 to notice Nanker. Bhrandon and Coccyx have 2 FISTs for tasks involving perception and both passed it, Kandil and Drumpf only rolled 1 dice and failed. In future I'll put the * when I roll dice but not usually tell you what it was about. Saint Isaias Boner fucked around with this message at 00:04 on Nov 22, 2016 |
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Nov 21, 2016 18:42
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 ELAN: 6 EFFORT: 60 FISTS: 1 Drumpf's mouth starts moving and his tiny hands gesture furiously (almost with enough vigor to knock over the high chair he is perched on) before his brain can form words for him to say. Drumpf" posted:This sounds like the worst deal of the century and I know deals. I've made huge deals, all the highest deals, even this nasty woman here (he gestures to Kandil) can see how bad this deal is.
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Nov 21, 2016 19:02
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ELAN: 7 EFFORT: 76 FISTS: 1 Coccyx is usually at a loss identifying anyone, but seared inside of his skull is the image of a particular and infamous masturbatory incident, involving Nanker, an unfortunate geometric alignment of a series of prisms, lenses, and the rising sun. Coccyx really needs to see about having that bleached off. It's just that reputable marrowsmiths always want a couple more guilders than he can rub together . . . Nanker the Yanker posted:Pay's 16 whole guilders, more than any of you've ever seen in one place. Plus whatever you can snake while you're at it. But don't get distracted." "Well, he's got my attention! Four guilders together with what I have should be more that enough to scrub this Occipital clean." Coccyx thoughts are distracted by a horrible sound, of metal scraping against metal. At first he mistakes it for the voice of the dwarf, as his mouth is moving. But then he realizes that the voice of the dwarf is so grating that he is grinding his dentures together to drown it out, as a sort of automatic defensive mechanism against hearing anything the orange shitball has to say. As he ponders this phenomena, Coccyx notices how precariously top heavy the arrangement of dwarf and chair seems to be. In order to preserve a chance at this job, or maybe just because there's something that tell's him this dwarf is a right fucker: pre:I attempt JOSTLE Drumpf's chair(difficulty 7), in order to knock him to the ground. Coccyx uses 4 EFFORT + FIST (5) = 9 The chair is knocked over. Torn-off corner of SCUMMY STEVE'S DISCOUNT PARCHMENT IM-POOR-IUM complementary sample posted:I'm In Hermsgervørden fucked around with this message at 22:57 on Nov 21, 2016 |
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Nov 21, 2016 21:16
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Bhrandon Hovel and Harpy Bilgeton  ELAN: 6 EFFORT: 50 FISTS: 1 Four guilders?, the callow and wan youth thinks to himself. That's enough to get my own hovel! Although... four's good, eight might be better... "I... suppose you have a deal, Nanker.", murmurs Bhrandon. There is a clatter of orange skin and splintering chairlegs, which Bhrandon uses as cover for attempting to kick his dog under the table in the direction of Coccyx. His hand snakes casually towards the skeleton's note, as he fumbles for a pen with the other. ---- i have introduced my dog, which has ELAN 2 and EFFORT 40. i want it to distract coccyx, so that i can grab his note and append it "and give my share to Bhrandon". i fully expect this to fail because i don't want to expend EFFORT on making the handwriting or even the pen colour match, but i gotta try and get me my corruption on for minimal effort, yo. i HICCUP test against my catankerous hound: BHRANDON ELAN 6 + roll 6 = 12 DOG ELAN 2 + rolls 4, 1 = 6 BHRANDON WINS. DOGALITY i will also attempt to flag down more drink and place it in front of the alcoholic skeleton, which should aid in grabbing his note. i am willing to attempt to GOLDBRICK myself with a max effort spend of Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 22:06 on Nov 21, 2016 |
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Nov 21, 2016 21:56
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Drumf's pointless mumbling is brought to a sudden halt as his unsteady chair topples and the topheavy dwarf topples to the rotten timbers and soiled hay that passes for a floor in this pit. Fortunately for him the ground is softer than his head - unfortunately his godawful dog mistakes him for an orange chew toy and goes for his face. * Drumf manages to kick the mutt away and it retreats, howling, leaving the loquacious orange dwarf dazed but unhurt on the filth-strewn ground. Bhrandon whispers a command to his horrible dog and it listens for once. Or maybe it just did what it was going to do anyway - the barely-tamed mutt chomps down hard on Coccyx's shin and pulls, trying to drag the bone man under the table. * Coccyx is able to retain his seat, just, but he loses sight of his note for a second and that's all it takes. Bhrandon hastily amends the note. Unfortunately for Bhrandon, Nanker regularly sees stranger things than an orange dwarf and a skeleton rolling around with a pair of junkyard dogs on a poo poo-covered tavern floor. He's not distracted enough for that hamfisted piece of subterfuge to get past him. He shakes his head sadly. "I don't give a bag of rats' arseholes how you divvy it up, idiots. The lot of you get 16. What about the elf? She talk? Is she in or out?". ---- With Nanker momentarily interested in the elf, Bhrandon casts GOLDBRICK on himself to make himself look less like a sad weirdo and more like someone worth serving. (DIFFICULTY 6 spell, EFFORT 3 spent, FIST dice: 4,4 = pass, cost 4 EFFORT). He raises his weedy arm in the air and Puke takes notice, bringing over "the usual", which is whatever piss was closest to him. Swinging a cudgel in one hand and carrying a board loaded with drinks in the other, the bartender carves his way through the mass of patrons towards your table. He'll be over shortly (about thirty seconds or so).
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Nov 22, 2016 21:18
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ELAN: 6 EFFORT: 60 FISTS: 1 Drumpf picks himself of from the floor, dusts himself off, pulls out a "DRUMPF" stamped steak from his pocket, dabs the corners of his mouth, puts the steak away. Drumpf stands the high chair back up, climbs back up, sits down. Drumpf pull a sparrow from his pocket, mutters something incendiary about Coccyx to it, and sends it on its way. quote:Where were we? Garth_Marenghi fucked around with this message at 00:49 on Nov 23, 2016 |
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Nov 22, 2016 21:48
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Kandil Hovel and Harpy Bilgeton ELAN: 4 EFFORT: 90 FISTS: 1 Saint Isaias Boner posted:"I don't give a bag of rats' arseholes how you divvy it up, idiots. The lot of you get 16. What about the elf? She talk? Is she in or out?". "I dunno, Drumpf might have a point," Kandil says as she strokes her chin, "I mean, maybe we need to renegotiate this deal?" She sits up, "Like 16 guilders sounded pretty good a second ago but now that he says it maybe we're not doing as well as I thought?" She points at Coccyx as he fends off Bhrandon's hound, "Look, even a wight can't get by in this town anymore." "I mean, I used to get by just fine loafing around but now that business is going away thanks to the corrupt government's anti-street violence policies," Kandil hangs her head, "It just makes me feel economically insecure and also filled with hatred." "I choose to blame you for this, Nanker. I don't know why and maybe it's not fair to you but ultimately that's the situation we all find ourselves in," She shrugs her shoulders, "But I guess if I don't get my way I can always kill you with my bare hands and burn this whole bar down to the ground with everyone in it." pre:I attempt to INTIMIDATE Nanker. Kandil has UGLY SCARS so -2 on DIFFICULTY. Kandil uses 4 EFFORT + FIST (3) = 7 Necroskowitz fucked around with this message at 02:49 on Nov 23, 2016 |
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Nov 23, 2016 02:44
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Coccyx Hovel and Harpy Bilgeton ELAN: 7 EFFORT: 76 FISTS: 1 Necroskowitz posted:"I choose to blame you for this, Nanker. I don't know why and maybe it's not fair to you but ultimately that's the situation we all find ourselves in," She shrugs her shoulders, "But I guess if I don't get my way I can always kill you with my bare hands and burn this whole bar down to the ground with everyone in it." "She may be an elf, but at least she's not a coward." Coccyx kicks the GODDAMN HOUND hard enough to make it slink back to it's pathetic thieving patron, and turns his attention to the foursome of oafs Nanker was sitting with earlier. If this all turns sour, he expects they will be the main part of the problem, and would rather they not get the jump on him. In the unlikely event fight doesn't break out, the barman is nearly here. If it does come to fighting, Coccyx wants to keep his options open. "I don't mind beating up on Nanker, but I'm not drunk enough yet to think of any reason to fight more than him. I bet I could snake a bottle from the bar on my way out through the kitchen."
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Nov 23, 2016 06:56
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Necroskowitz posted:Kandil Nanker's DIFFICULTY for intimidation (and pretty near anything else) is 10 with no FISTS. He's not a complete pushover but pretty close. With your scars his DIFFICULTY to intimidate is 8 so you'd need to score 9 to do it. You get 2 FISTS because of your skill in this area. As an elf you must add the roll on the FIST dice you accept to the amount of EFFORT you lose. For this kind of thing you could just tell me you're attempting to intimidate Nanker and I'd offer a hiccup test. EFFORT is used for pretty intense threatening - say you're going to spend five or ten minutes interrogating a prisoner or you're getting right up in someone's face. A one-off threat at a scumbag where at most a couple of guilders are on the line would be a hiccup. Hermsgervørden posted:Coccyx The oafs are painfully bad at pretending to be nonchalant. They are definitely watching you very closely. When you look over at them two of them make an affected display of doing something, anything else, and the other two bruisers just keep on staring with dark scowls on their faces.
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Nov 23, 2016 21:45
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Puke finally bashes enough skulls to carve a path to your table where he deposits a tray of drinks. There's a small pewter cup of what looks like watered down red bugwine, a filthy tankard of beer that's pretty much all head, a vial of something that smells like shield cleaner (it probably is shield cleaner) and a wooden cup full of something that could euphemistically be called mead. The hairy bartender stares at Bhrandon in confusion as if he has no idea as to why he decided to do anything the miserable looking spellcaster asked. "That'll be, er, two twelfthgroats and a fegg. Quickly." Coccyx, being an alcoholic, starts getting pretty jittery now there's some booze around.
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Nov 23, 2016 21:57
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Bhrandon Hovel and Harpy Bilgeton ELAN: 6 EFFORT: 41/50 FISTS: 1 "Oh. Uh. Yeah. Sure." Bhrandon pays up with listless bad grace. As Puke walks back to the bar, past the oafs, the mageling downs the bugwine and surreptitiously attempts to JOSTLE their pitcher of foul beer, attempting to cover the motions of his hands by playing it off as the spastic thrashing that normally comes from drinking large gulps of appalling alcohol. Their attention is presumably focused on the argument between elf and lout, so he attempts to get them distracted by making it look like Puke's spilled their drink. ---- i guess that's a DIFFICULTY 8 HASSLE (ranged, single effect), so let's spend 5 effort on it (including Depression) effort 4 + (2d6 = 5, 1) = 9 my goal is to get the oafs to not pay attention, so that they will be less inclined to give Nanker backup and moral support
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Nov 24, 2016 00:22
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:Bhrandon * (a very easy hiccup to see if you got drunk like some kind of lightweight) As Nanker carefully considers his options with regards to hitting the violent elf across the table from him, a nasty scene unfolds in the background. As the bartender shoves his way past the oafs' table their pitcher of beer topples over, soaking a couple of the cloaked brigands in filthy pisswater. They all leap to their feet as one and a particularly soggy thug commences yelling angrily at Puke who he obviously blames for the mishap. This show of aggression is unfortunately misplaced and the raucousness of the Hovel is temporarily silenced by a thunderous crack as Puke slams his truncheon down onto the goon's head with bone-shattering force. The angry man goes limp and collapses to the floor. Sensing a chance at getting a rare table in this packed joint the crowd surges and grabs the limp, soggy man and his compatriots and gives the lot of them the bum's rush out the main doors and into the street. Nanker, distracted from his showdown with the elf by this miserable display, shakes his head in exasperation. "Right. 18 Guilders then. And I'm cutting my own throat to offer that. But don't mess it up this time. Please."
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Nov 24, 2016 00:40
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ELAN: 6 EFFORT: 60 FISTS: 1 quote:It's a deal! I told you guys stick with me I get things done.
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Nov 24, 2016 01:01
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Kandil Hovel and Harpy Bilgeton ELAN: 4 EFFORT: 90 FISTS: 1 "Okay that works," Kandil says as she leans back and puts her feet up on the table, "for that much I guess I can go kill that guy or get his kid back or whatever. I'm in too."
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Nov 24, 2016 01:41
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Coccyx Hovel and Harpy Bilgeton ELAN: 7 EFFORT: 76 FISTS: 1 Seeing that he won't be involved in any of the fights underway or about to commence for at least the duration of this round, Coccyx is ready to get down to business. He slams back the mead with more enthusiasm than the moping grease stain across the table has so far exhibited in his lifetime, then reaches causally across to grab whatever it is Puke put down in front of Bhrandon expecting at worst token resistance. With important concerns out of the way, he turns to Nanker and gestures enthusiastically, hoping to encourage Nanker to explain the job. OOC: should snagging Bhrandons drink involve a HICCUP test?
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Nov 24, 2016 07:48
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poo poo dude i'm coughing up foul bugwine, you can have my other drink for free
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Nov 24, 2016 22:14
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Nanker shakes his head in disgust at the motley collection of alcoholic bones, orange dwarfs, emos and elfs before him. This assortment of literal ne'er-do-well , plus the dogs biting and nipping at everything near floor level and the ugliest goddamned cat in the world do not fill him with confidence that anything's going to get accomplished tonight. "I can't believe I'm trusting you with this. Individually you're bad enough, but together... oh well. What choice do I have now." "Fat Olaf was insistent this get done before sunup. It's one bell short of midnight now. You've got about 6 bells to spring the prisoner out of the gatehouse next to the Noble Gates of Bilgeton. You'll recognise the huy when you see him. He doesn't look as horrible as the average guy the guard rounds up." " Don't mess this up. I'm counting on you... now." Nanker stands up from the table, preparing to leave you to plot your schemes. ---- Coccyx automatically downs his drink and reaches for what's left of Bhrandon's instinctively, chucking it straight down the hatch. Booze pours through his ribcage, soaking his clothes. He's now DRUNK. -2 ÉLAN, +1 FIST. He's chattering his stupid iron dentures looking for more hooch... OOC Do y'all need a map of the general scenario area/Bilgeton? This stuff would be included in the player's pack for the scenario when it's complete but if you'd rather you can wing it. Saint Isaias Boner fucked around with this message at 01:43 on Nov 26, 2016 |
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Nov 25, 2016 23:48
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Coccyx Hovel and Harpy Bilgeton ELAN: 5 EFFORT: 76 FISTS: 2 DRUNK "Finally this fuckin' haggling is out of the way. I never had a stomach for haggling, Loudmouth bullshit, Skeleton Union cracks down on it. I'm gonna need some quality drink to take on the gatehouse guards. And with a payday of six Guilders coming, it's worth it to get the good stuff. I wonder if Kilmans Still is open at this bell?" Coccyx scribbles out a note, though mostly legible it runs off the edge of the scrap as he writes.  Lurching slightly unsteadily to his feet, Coccyx heads toward the door.
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Nov 26, 2016 04:50
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* You narrowly resist the urge to have another one for the road, though if these idiots keep you here gabbing for much longer you're going to need a drink to take the edge off.
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Nov 26, 2016 10:37
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Start the Heist in...
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Nov 28, 2016 17:17
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There's no reason to stick around if the skeleton isn't going to make a fool of himself. The bar tab being settled, all you need to do is duck under a hail of javelins and emerge from the main doors out onto the Hangman's Way. It's a cold night. Under normal circumstances you wouldn't go out in this weather without a decent buzz on but you've all got work to do. The curfew being in effect means that most of the people drinking and carrying on in the Hovel will probably stay there until morning, unless hurled onto the streets by the bartender. This means that there's no one around - luckily this includes guard patrols. The streets in this part of town are only barely lit by the light coming from the occasional window, though the half-moon overhead provides some illumination. It'll be easy to hide but also to trip over your own feet until your eyes adjust. * In the absence of anything better to do you're about to follow Coccyx's poorly-scrawled suggestion and head for the contact he claims to have in the merchant quarter when Drumpf and Bhrandon both hear some grunting, chattering and weird squishy noises coming from the dark side alley around the corner of the tavern. Coccyx is too drunk to notice and Kandil as usual is pretty oblivious.
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Nov 29, 2016 15:33
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ELAN: 6 EFFORT: 60 FISTS: 1 Drumpf Quickly ducks behind Brandon and begins to talk very loudly. "It's really sad, how poorly your skulking in the shadows, no honor! Chattering, Grunting, some of the worse subterfuge I have ever experienced. My skelington fried here was saying how you grunt just like your mother... when his on top of her... fornicating... Ok is this taunting a hiccup, or a hassle or what, do i roll? I don't mind having my rolls resolved by the Dungeon Bastard for simplification.
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Nov 29, 2016 16:05
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There's no response from whatever's causing the noise. Well, not much. Maybe the chattering gets a little faster. E: check the OOC thread Saint Isaias Boner fucked around with this message at 18:52 on Nov 29, 2016 |
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Nov 29, 2016 16:35
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Bhrandon Outside the Hovel and Harpy Bilgeton ELAN: 6 EFFORT: 41/50 FISTS: 1 Well, it's either a drunk that the gang can roll for small change, or it's a bunch of killer rats or some such nonsense. Either way, not something that Bhrandon particularly wants to be first into the breach to encounter. He huddles closer in his voluminous cloak against the cold, tugging it out of the questing hands of the little orange poo poo that's trying to hide behind him, and nudges his faithful, foul-tempered dog into checking out what's round the corner. If the mangy beast gets eaten, stabbed, or sexually assaulted by Bilgeton denizens, hopefully there'll be enough time for the gang to beat a hasty retreat while that's going on. Outside the pub, and possibly as a result of the disgusting alcohol already imbided, Bhrandon's normal mopey, flowery tone is roughened slightly. "We're going to chat up the skeleton's mate, then? Anyone else know anything about the gatehouse? Surely one of you must have had a night in the cells before now?" ---- so let's make dog go round the corner first. rolls are here BHRANDON: ELAN 6 + roll 4 = 10 DOGGO: ELAN 2 + roll 6 = 8 BHRANDON WINS
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Nov 29, 2016 18:29
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Your horrible hound disappears around the side of the pub with more enthusiasm than you'd expect, followed closely by Chriss-T, Drumpf's putrid pooch. A few seconds later a ruckus breaks out with the dogs barking, growling and worrying at something back there. The chattering intensifies to the point where even Coccyx and Kandil notices it. It becomes clear to Bhrandon and Coccyx that it's a skeleton worker swearing profusely under all that chattering.
Saint Isaias Boner fucked around with this message at 00:32 on Nov 30, 2016 |
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Nov 29, 2016 18:54
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Bhrandon Outside the Hovel and Harpy Bilgeton ELAN: 6 EFFORT: 41/50 FISTS: 1 Huh. "Just some skeleton hobo, guys." the goth murmurs as he squints into the gloom. "Think the dogs are eating him. You guys wanna, say, pretend we're guards and he's our prisoner and march him into the gatehouse and get in that way? Or something?". With marked lack of enthusiasm. "C'mon, you little poo poo, get back here", to the dog, with even less enthusiasm. Bhrandon makes no move to actually intervene in the dogs-vs-skeleton melee, saving his meagre store of motivation for more important matters.
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Nov 30, 2016 00:17
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Kandil Hovel and Harpy Bilgeton ELAN: 4 EFFORT: 90 FISTS: 1 For most of the past several minutes Kandil had mostly been following the group wordlessly, her earlier outburst having expended much of her attention span. However, the chattering from around the corner rocks Kandil from her reverie. Abruptly she stomps off around the corner to confront the source of the noise. "Hey buddy," she growls, "some of us are trying to not to focus on any one thing in particular and your poo poo-show over here is wrecking it!" She gets into what could charitably be called a combat stance, "So are you gonna get mauled a little quieter or am I gonna have to confiscate your jaw?"
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Dec 1, 2016 03:56
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Kandil turns down the side alley around the side of the pub. In a city of revolting sights and sounds, the lane between Hangman's and Grundle is way up there on the list of locations not to visit. In the same way that no one wants to see how sausages and laws get made, no one wants to know anything about how anything gets made in the Hovel and Harpy. Twenty yards down the alley, a gigantic heap of what could be summed up as refuse is piled up high against the wall of the slum opposite the Hovel. It's a mountain of old cabbages, strange liquids, rotten root vegetables, unidentifiable meats and very identifiable dead rats, sewer gulls and bilgators trapped while trying to feed on this pile of filth. It's common knowledge that throughout the day wagons tip their leftovers from the markets (and less savoury sources) here in exchange for a small consideration from the landlord and because it's slightly closer than the Bilge. The smell is pretty horrible but is mostly obscured by the delicate odour of the aforementioned river until you get into the alley itself, at which point it becomes overpowering. The alley is almost entirely unlit and Kandil struggles to see what she's flailing in the direction of, until a side door in the Hovel opens and a nasty looking quarterling in dirty chef's clothes comes out and the light from the Hovel's kitchen partly illuminates the pile. You can see the source of the commotion - near the bottom of the heap, on the surface, a skeleton struggles madly under the dead weight of a groaning, hooded oaf - one of the vagrants from the tavern, probably the one you saw getting brained - and two horrible dogs wrenching at the skeleton and thug's limbs. The chef boots one of the dogs out of the way and dips a slop bucket into the filth near the skeleton but does nothing else to help before hauling his load back into the kitchen and slamming the door shut, plunging the alley into near-total darkness again. Saint Isaias Boner fucked around with this message at 11:34 on Dec 1, 2016 |
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Dec 1, 2016 11:31
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Bhrandon Outside the Hovel and Harpy Bilgeton ELAN: 6 EFFORT: 41/50 FISTS: 1 Bhrandon, emboldened by Kandil taking point, pokes his head round the side of the alley and watches for a moment. It's incredibly hard to see, but judging by the thrashing of limbs and barking of dogs, apparently they'd interrupted some sort of hideous undead/living interspecies tryst in possibly the worst venue imaginable. The smell is indescribable, and anyone with a working nose would want to be far, far away. Thankfully, Coccyx doesn't have a working nose, and is also a mentally ill alcoholic with a past life as a thief. Bhrandon nudges the iron-toothed skeleton, indicating the formless shape of the thug in the shadows before the gang. "Hey man, why don't you go rifle his pockets while they're distracted? I'm out of cash after that last round" The other skeleton doesn't appear to be in any distress - at least, he's not said anything, even as dogs gnaw at his limbs and what sounds like a wilde street hogge tugs at the bits of robe protuding from the garbage heap - so for now, Bhrandon pays him no mind. In fact, he steadfastly tries to ignore what's going on under cover of darkness. --- well let's rob the unconscious guy. black leaf can presumably pipe up in the midst of doing this??
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Dec 3, 2016 11:46
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:
OOC : If not the dogs can have him and I'll work him in later on, plenty of skeletons in the sea
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Dec 4, 2016 22:16
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ELAN: 6 EFFORT: 58 FISTS: 1 Drumpf Call his hound to his side and places the saddle on him, then mounts up. (edit adjusted EFFORT) Garth_Marenghi fucked around with this message at 17:50 on Dec 5, 2016 |
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Dec 5, 2016 17:03
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| # ? Apr 25, 2024 05:32 |
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The bloated dog whines when he's called. Usually he'd rather be filling his guts with bones and undifferentiated filth but there's something in the way Drumpf phrases his commands and the movement of his tiny little hands that Chriss-T finds difficult to resist. The mutt obediently trots back to his owner, who promptly saddles him. Chriss-T snarls but all it earns him is a kick from Drumpf as he mounts up.
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Dec 5, 2016 17:38
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