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FRINGE posted:In the OP we have: Oh, gotcha. My toon on Fallen London didn't have any. I'll add it. A x x B x x x x C x x D x E A x B x x x C x x D x E x x A x x x B C D x E x x x x x plan tran x x x x we know someone x cybernetic implants? really? x doesnt know about gunsmithing x We're heading for gunsmith/finding out/door Loel fucked around with this message at 12:07 on Mar 18, 2015 |
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Mar 18, 2015 12:03
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| # ? Apr 24, 2024 06:23 |
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Of cogs and gears In years past, a place like yours would be one of constant noise. Bellows pumping, fire in the air, the clang of iron. A weaponsmith such as yourself would have great and powerful arms, a skill with hammer, an eye for steel. Now, in these more civilized days, you were as much clocksmith as blacksmith - your devices were the weapons that could spit death at two hundred yards. The pressure seal of your foundry opened with a hiss, and you looked up, pulling your goggles up on top of your head. It was a complicated thing, with a dozen lenses, used for the detail work that was your skill. You blinked the change out of your eyes - the shift in perspective was enough to give you headaches, and you didn’t like to do it. You weren’t expecting any visitors. The seal closed, and entered a tall, lanky blonde in leathers. Ah. Of course. One of the veterans of the invasion of Hell, she had done three tours - an expert as much as any of them. Sally Strange, known as the Hellraiser. Some said she went back because she liked it more - that she felt at home. You could smell the sulphur come with her like a cloud, a not unpleasant change from the coal fog that filled London’s streets. She pulled off her gas mask to look at you narrowly, tossing her rifle down next to you. A variant of the 1853 Enfield, from the original armory that came when London fell. Why is she here? A. You run a scam with the rifles, selling cheap parts. You got her troops killed. B. You run a scam, and she’s in on it. You’ve worked together before. C. You are honest, and she needs repairs. You are known for your work. D. You are a specialist. She needs augments for the next push on the Lava Fields E. Something Else
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Mar 18, 2015 18:04
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D
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Mar 18, 2015 18:10
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D
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Mar 18, 2015 18:21
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D
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Mar 18, 2015 18:26
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D. We're good at what we do. We're just slow enough we can't make lots of money.
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Mar 18, 2015 18:33
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D
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Mar 18, 2015 18:46
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D We have deals with the Rattus Faber, exchange ideas and the like. Very hush hush.
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Mar 18, 2015 18:51
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D we are initiated in the mysteries of the machine god
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Mar 18, 2015 19:00
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D Were the best at what we do, but we only work on one project at a time, so were still poor.
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Mar 18, 2015 20:09
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poo poo getting real. Definitely D, and maybe we have an L.B. assistant somewhere? 
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Mar 18, 2015 22:12
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D
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Mar 18, 2015 23:58
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D because we're somehow otherworldy gifted with firearms. Why, she doesn't know...
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Mar 19, 2015 00:51
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Wentley posted:D
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Mar 19, 2015 02:23
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Its All about the money, baby.
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Mar 19, 2015 21:46
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Slaan posted:Its All about the money, baby. Let's make some dumb decisions. A
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Mar 20, 2015 02:18
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All aboard!
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Mar 20, 2015 02:35
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D
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Mar 20, 2015 05:08
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Clearly D is the way to stop the self-destructors.
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Mar 23, 2015 22:16
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Damn we're good.
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Mar 23, 2015 22:22
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D: Next best thing to finding a Rattus gunsmith.
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Mar 24, 2015 02:29
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Special Parts You smiled with genuine pleasure. “How good to see you, Ms Strange. What can I do for you?” “The Lords Martial have decided we’re doing another push. I’m at the front.” “As always, as always.” She glared at you. “That remains between us, of course.” “Of course. What are you expecting to see?” “Gargants. The hell-engines themselves.” “Nasty.” “Quite.” “So, what can you do to the rifle? I’d rather stack them up then see myself stacked up.” “I’m sure. Let me take a look.” The weapon was one of your finer pieces, meant for a Champion of the London armies. Gilded brass next to mushroom stalk wood, it was a work of art - and easily identifiable as a veteran of the wars by the smell of brimstone and sulphur. It never left the weapons, no matter how one scrubbed. “Well….” You began. “If you bring me some Salamander parts, I could make some improvements.” She gestured. “A raid before a big op? I’ll need a favor in return.” “Okay. Well, I could go to the towers and get some haunted screams. They are in season around now.” Sally considered this. “What else?” “We could kidnap a rat-engineer, there’s a project I’ve been wanting to do for a while. I’d need their help though.” “Or?” “Or... “ you considered, looked at the weapon thoughtfully. “Could always steal and melt some consecrated silver.” She pursed her lips. “Well, you are the expert.” What do you do? A. Salamander favor B. Haunted Screams C. Rat-engineer D. Consecrated silver E. Something Else
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Mar 28, 2015 22:43
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C Edit: Would it be possible to just hire on a rat as an assistant?
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Mar 28, 2015 23:15
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D
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Mar 29, 2015 00:37
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D
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Mar 29, 2015 00:53
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RandomPauI posted:C I'm more in favour of kidnapping and bending to our will.
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Mar 29, 2015 02:51
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Can't go wrong with forced labour 
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Mar 29, 2015 03:14
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E - Track down an exiled correspondence expert for sigils that could be engraved into the rifle stock. EDIT - VVVVVVVVV Disagree. There is already some known basis for this. And sigils can be seen regularly on buildings and in tattoos already, so I wouldn't assume that they are automatically too dangerous, even on fairly delicate surfaces. That said, in spite of some inherent, er, instability I don't think anyone would have to stretch their imagination terribly far to think of some words that might be interesting or desirable to have inscribed on an instrument of destruction, particularly for a gunsmith of rare and specialized ability such as this. Where is our sense of adventure? NObodyNOWHERE fucked around with this message at 08:37 on Mar 29, 2015 |
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Mar 29, 2015 03:29
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NObodyNOWHERE posted:E - Track down an exiled correspondence expert for sigils that could be engraved into the rifle stock. Studying the Correspondence is hazardous for one's health, not least because to hear it spoken or write it down is to invite fire. It is the language that burns, not one of enchantment. To trace sigils into the stock of a firearm would surely be disastrous as even metal can burn, and simply writing "An ill advised exploration into the unknown in the mistaken hope of gaining power" will not make it a better firearm. Its like getting a tattoo in Chinese characters that actually reads "bean curd". It does not make you more mystical. You should probably stay away from the Correspondence. No good can come of it. Voting C - Say what you will about the L.B.s, they can do drat good work and their little hands are excellent for dealing with delicate parts. They might not like to share their expertise, but paying one off afterwards with provisions and iron may keep you from being on their shitlist for "borrowing" one. Not that we're afraid of them, it just does not do to have the Scuttering Squad lighting our house on fire.
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Mar 29, 2015 03:38
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LowellDND posted:As an aside, Im amused that one of the options in the Browser Game is 'work on your story' which is this thread, in which I write about Fallen London. Oh lowell, don't you know? Writing in the game is almost never worth it! Oh and I'm a bit further than you in fallen London, so PM me if you want details on some stuff? paragon1 fucked around with this message at 08:43 on Mar 29, 2015 |
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Mar 29, 2015 08:40
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paragon1 posted:Oh lowell, don't you know? Writing in the game is almost never worth it! Truth in fiction! 
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Mar 29, 2015 08:42
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D Irritating the rats is more trouble than it is worth. Stodgy old churchmen are hardly difficult to fool.
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Mar 29, 2015 08:48
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LowellDND posted:
Careful! You'll get knifed on the docks if you go around using language like that.
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Mar 29, 2015 08:49
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C: Access to the secrets of the L.Bs would make us the envy of every human gunsmith in London.
Tran fucked around with this message at 11:43 on Mar 29, 2015 |
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Mar 29, 2015 11:41
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C. I'm all for recruiting (or "recruiting") some rodent assistance.
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Mar 29, 2015 12:33
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C
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Mar 29, 2015 13:28
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A
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Mar 30, 2015 02:49
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A because I'm curious what favor she'll ask.
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Apr 4, 2015 05:39
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The rats, the rats, the terrible terrible rats You pause for a moment, pursing your lips in thought as you consider. "I think the Rat-Engineers would do us best. And having one around would mean some sustained improvement, which is always nice." She nodded. "Where do we start?" "Well, they have a colony just off the coast. The riskiest option would be to snag a boat and head out that way tonight. We'll have better choices on who we want to grab - not every engineer is equal, after all. It would be tricky though, and they have good security. Alternately, we could try the local weaponsmith. They are technically a competitor to me, so we'd be the first people investigated. That would require its own difficulties in covering up our liberated friend. Third choice would be more diplomatic - I know an apprentice who wants to make his move. We could help him 'find a job opening', and he'll help us in return. Similar problems though, and it requires a level of violent sneakiness." She nodded again. "Okay. Is that all our choices?" You barked a laugh. "Well, there are Rats who just dont make it, get kicked out of their guilds. We could find them in the sewers. The quality would be lowest, but so would the price and the risk. How you want to play it?" Which should we do? A. Rat Island B. The Guild C. Job Opening D. Sewers. E. Something Else.
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May 14, 2015 05:33
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| # ? Apr 24, 2024 06:23 |
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Call on the apprentice.
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May 14, 2015 12:09
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