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This is a revival of my short-lived thread from half a year ago. It's about a supernaturally enhanced assassin/operative trying to break free of her former life and survive. It's intended to be a brief exercise in trying to navigate the underside of a hostile world you know very little about. How brief? I intend to wrap this up by the end of September. I will try for daily updates, assuming there are no unexpected IRL distractions. These three opening posts are lifted directly from my previous thread. I hope you enjoy them, if you haven't seen them before. They took you when you were 12. Probably because no one would care about the disappearance of some hungry and filthy orphan doing whatever she could to survive. They did something to you then. Changed your body and mind in a way you don’t fully understand even now, five years later. Whatever it was, it made you quicker, stronger, sharper and brighter. After the change, you could easily adapt to any situation, read the emotions of most people and grasp whatever concept you tried, no matter how complicated. It also made you a slave. They would never admit it, but that’s what you are now – a slave. Your handlers back at the island, they change all the time, coming and going, but there is always someone in charge of doling out the essence. They never explained what it is, but you need it. If you spend too long without consuming it, you fall into a hell beyond your wildest nightmares, unable to move, speak or think, experiencing nothing but dull pain and suffocating fear. You know that if you go an entire day without essence you will die. You have to work for them to get essence. You go out on missions with others like you, about once or twice a month usually. On these missions, you do whatever you are told to: kidnap, murder, threaten, spy, rob, torture, assassinate and more. So much more. They say your employer is the Shadow Council. You don’t know if that’s true. If it is, you wouldn’t know what to make of it. They never give you any context for your tasks. Most of the time, they don’t even tell you who the targets are – if there are targets – just what they look like and where they can be found. Sometimes, you can guess what the purpose behind your mission must be, but most of the time you have no clue. Some of your partners believe in what you’re doing, saying it’s for a better world, but you don’t know how they came to that conclusion. You don’t share their view. Most importantly, you hate this. You hate what you have to do, you hate your handlers, with their self-assured expressions and condescending voices, you hate your partners who seem to meekly go along with everything like it’s the natural way of things and you hate yourself most of all. You can’t stand what they’ve turned you into. You can’t go on like this. There must be more to life than being a slave to people you’ve never met. Throughout these five years, you took every chance you could to learn more about your predicament. Read reports you weren’t supposed to, taught yourself a dead language, been in rooms you shouldn’t know about, stole books that don’t exist and heard whispers that were never said. All for one purpose – escape. You dreamt of breaking free from your unseen masters and making a new life for yourself. For a long time, you went from disappointment to disappointment, as it became increasingly clear that your condition was irreversible – once done it could never be undone. You would be at the mercy of the essence forever. Half a year ago, everything changed. On the surface, you’ve gone about your life as you always have, diligently carrying out your orders. But underneath that, for the first time after so long, you have nourished a hope. A chance encounter during one of your missions set you on the path you now follow – the path leading to freedom. You’ve spent the past half-year in a strange frantic trance, working towards that one solitary goal, disregarding any risks and uncertainties. You’ve completed all of the necessary preparations yesterday. All you have to do now is choose the right moment. Once you start running, you can’t stop, no matter what. There is a price to pay for your freedom. A price you would have once considered too high. No longer. No price can be too high for your escape from this living nightmare. You are prepared to sacrifice everything you must, regardless of whether it is yours to sacrifice or not. There is only one thing left to decide. They will figure out your treachery soon, the question is how soon. Can you afford to wait for your next mission, or should you take the final step now, as the airship makes it’s way back to the island and your partners are occupied with their reports? Welcome to my second CYOA! This one is intended to be much shorter and more spontaneous – I have some stuff planned, but I don’t know if we’ll even get to it or if the narrative will take us to unexpected places. The most important thing to know is that this game will end if your character dies. It’s possible to die, and in fact I would say that the odds are against your survival. There will be no retries or second chances. Once you’re dead, that will be it. So, be careful. You can ask questions about your character and the setting, but be aware that I will only answer what your character herself knows, which isn’t much. I intend getting and properly parsing information to be a major obstacle in this game. AFancyQuestionMark fucked around with this message at 16:12 on Sep 19, 2018 |
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Sep 19, 2018 15:16
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It doesn’t take you long to make up your mind. If you think about it, you made up your mind the very moment you laid eyes on the research journal on that fateful day half a year ago. There can be no delay! You aren’t about to throw away your only chance at freedom by pointlessly waiting for some imagined good opportunity. Here and now will have to be good enough. After briefly checking to see that the others aren’t near, you roll up your sleeve and take out the small vial carefully woven into the fabric of your shirt – not the ideal hiding place but the best you could manage on short notice. You take one last glance at the transparent, purple tinged liquid inside before opening the vial and gulping down the contents. The world shifts. You feel lighter, then heavier. An irritating ringing fills your ears. You go blind. After what seems like an eternity, your senses go back to their normal constantly alert state and you are free to think clearly again. You can’t tell if it worked, but if it didn’t you’ll be dead soon anyway, so no point in worrying about it. There is no time to lose. You quickly make your way to a small door on the airship’s upper level. You knock in your usual way – brief but insistent. “Come in, Raven. How many times must I repeat that there is no need to knock? You aren’t a stranger here.” You open the door and find Fox sitting behind her desk with a gloomy expression. It seems she has a while left before she finishes her report. “Quite a mess we’ve made back there, huh? No matter how I try to spin it, there’s no covering up Viper’s screw-up. You aren’t clear of blame either. I know you like to take your time, but we really could have used that escape route two hours sooner. Hell, you could have done your stuff in half an hour, what the gently caress where you even doing for all that time?” “If you say so.” you shrug. You doubt she appreciates this setback on her second time ever as field leader. The handlers are sure to taunt her when she gets back, maybe even withhold her essence for a few extra hours if they’re really dissatisfied. Well, that’s one thing she won’t have to worry about anymore. “How is our captive, by the way?” Ah, that’s right. The target you were allegedly keeping watch over. You almost forgot. You hesitate for a brief moment. You were never close with Fox, but she looks to be about your age, maybe a year or so older. Her life was likely similar to yours. It’s not that difficult to imagine her filling your role today if things had turned out differently. No, you can’t be under any illusions. Given a choice between your life and essence, she would choose essence every time. Just as you would have if you were in her shoes. “Uncertain. Her breathing is irregular. I think Viper overdid it with the sedative again.” “Oh, for gods’ sake…” an angry expression crosses her face, “How is that guy still allowed to live? I will personally volunteer to guard him in the Cage this time. No way in hell I am going to suffer alone for this!” She quickly stands up and heads for the door with frustration and anger evident in her every step. Poor Viper. You don’t quite know what blunder he made this time, but it must have been something significant to make her fall for your ruse this hard. You move out of her way. A moment is all it takes. Fox has completely dropped her guard. Your dagger is buried in her side before she can react. It doesn’t stop her from pushing you against the door and wrapping her hand around your throat. But her movements are sluggish and incoherent. The fast-acting poison you coated the blade with is blunting her reflexes. She is easily overpowered. As she lies on the floor, desperately trying to push you off, you stare intently at her face and begin your work. Using your new ability is effortless. Soon, a thin vapor escapes her mouth. Her struggles grow weak and in a matter of seconds her transformation is complete. A shriveled husk is all that remains from the once energetic young woman. She is dead. You collect the vapor into the small vial you prepared in advance. It mixes with the transparent liquid inside, lending it a deep crimson color. You drink it without hesitation. This is what remains of her soul. Her essence. You are already free. You were freed the moment that purple liquid went down your throat twenty minutes ago. There wasn’t much doubt, but this confirms everything you’ve learned in the past half-year. Validates all of the effort it took to get this far. You don’t understand how they’ve managed to alter the ancient ritual this much, or how they make their essence, which you were enslaved to all this time. But you managed to bring the ritual back to its’ proper form. Restored the original intent. You can make your own personal essence now, from the souls of others. No price is too high for freedom from your living nightmare. But all of that is behind you now. You are finally free. *** The pilot’s chamber is empty. You can tell despite his effort to hide it with the door locked form the inside. No, Viper won’t steal this from you. You haven’t come this far just to be foiled at the last moment. You won’t let him. You won’t let him take your freedom away from you. You walk up to the door as if nothing was wrong and knock in your usual way. You wait for the sound. You know what to do. There it is! Behind you, almost drowned out by the soft hum of the engine. The sound of a trigger being pulled. You leap out of the way and throw your dagger at exactly the right angle. The all too familiar sound of a body falling over, accompanied by the loud clang of a miniature crossbow hitting the floor. A widening pool of blood around his throat. No. This isn’t…You rush to Viper’s body. It’s too late. He is already dead. Well, there goes your supply of essence for tomorrow. It’s fine. You’ll make it up somehow. It will slow you down, but it’s fine. All that matters is that you’re free. *** You have never piloted an airship before, but trial and error go a long way. You are fairly confident you managed to direct it to the nearest coast, far from both the island and the city you took off from. You can only hope your reading of the map is correct. You haven’t had any chances to study aerial navigation before. As you exit the pilot’s chamber, many thoughts go through your head. You try not to look at Viper’s corpse as you pass by. In truth, you have no plan for what to do now. All your efforts were concentrated on getting to this point. They have born fruit – you are free – but you gave very little thought to how your new life would look like. At the very least, you’ll have to figure out where to get more essence before tomorrow. Another thing you need to decide on is a new name. They called you Raven, but there’s no reason to keep going by that after your escape. You enter one of the storage rooms in the lower section of the airship. Your target… no she is no target of yours, she is no one to you now. She is sleeping soundly, under the influence of a powerful sedative. She looks about two or three years younger than you. As far as you know, she is the daughter of a duchess. What should you do with her? No doubt she will be a liability if you keep her alive, and she can serve as your source of essence for tomorrow. On the other hand, a part of you wants to talk with her, to try and find out what they wanted with her. Maybe even set her free just to spite them, though that’s likely going too far. While she still sleeps, you should decide whether to keep this airship or not. The ability to travel privately wherever you please could be crucial, but if you’re not careful it can serve as their lead. Whatever the case, you should try to think of a plan, however vague, for what to do after landing. You can last 24 hours without essence, but your state will start to rapidly deteriorate once you pass the 15 hour mark. Current Status: * Hours without essence: 1 * Essence in reserve: 0 AFancyQuestionMark fucked around with this message at 07:29 on Sep 20, 2018 |
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Sep 19, 2018 15:17
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After mulling things over in your head for a bit, you decide that the best way to increase your chances of survival in the near future is to keep doing what you know – cornering and killing people. It might not be particularly pleasant, but you already have plenty of experience in the matter, and murder for essence has been a central part of your life these past five years. At least now you’ll be able to pick your own targets. Speaking of picking targets, if you remember right, Nivoa isn’t very far from here. You have been to that city many times on missions, so it shouldn’t it be too hard to find your way around its’ sprawling marble streets and overhead walkways. There are plenty of potential wealthy and powerful targets there, if your past experiences are to be believed. There are many details left to be fleshed out, but this is the general direction you have decided on for the time being. Who knows how all of this will turn out? Regardless of what happens, you are free, which is all that really matters. You decide to use the remaining time before reaching your destination to rest, while you still can. *** As the airship nears the coast, you check on your captive again. One look at her tells you that the sedative has almost worn off. This is as the perfect time to interrogate her, before she fully regains her senses. It shouldn’t take you long. You know how it will end. You need to build up a reserve of essence to have any hope of survival and she will be major liability if she lives. You’ve delayed long enough. In a single motion, you empty the bucket full of cold water onto the sleeping girl. Her eyes snap open and she looks around wildly, obviously confused and disoriented. “Stand up.” She stares at you blankly, struggling to grasp the situation. “I said, stand up. Don’t make me repeat myself again.” you say in a tone as harsh and detached as you can manage. Despite the lingering influence of the sedative, she shoots up quickly, her face contorted into an expression of pure, primal fear. “W..Who are you? What do you want with me?” she spits out, her voice barely rising above the hum of the airship’s engine. “You can call me Specter. You don’t get to ask questions now.” You like the sound of that name. It meshes well with the concept of “elusive threat” you see yourself embodying in the near future. You walk up to her with heavy, deliberate steps. She is too frightened to say anything or move a single muscle. “Give me your name, occupation, and everything you remember from the past few weeks.” “What?...I…” You glare at her. Straight in the eyes, not letting her look away for even a single moment. You can see the exact moment she gives up. Completely. On trying to process her situation or thinking about anything other than following your demands. You know her current mental state all too well. “Okay…” she takes a deep breath, “Okay. My name is Amelyn de Rissete. My mother is the Duchess of Lower Delna, which is probably why I am here. I am a second year student at the Haidern Academy of Statecraft in Felcair. The last month was winter recess, I spent all of it back in Lhistair with my mother. I only returned to Felcair two days ago…plus the time that passed since you captured me. I was never involved in the political games Mother has been playing, so there isn’t much I can tell about the Syndicate or the tensions with the other duchies.” While still frightened, she has clearly calmed down a little. There is little point to intimidating her any more. “Doesn’t matter. Tell me all you know about your mother’s affairs.” you say in a calm but detached tone. You don’t know anything about any Syndicate or the relations between Alluvian nobles. Now is as good a time as any to educate yourself. “Well, she never tells me anything. All I know I heard from third-hand rumors at the academy and some of my friends back home. Everyone’s saying Mother worked out some deal with the Syndicate, to let them operate freely in her territory as long as they don’t make too much trouble for the locals. The other Dukes say that Lower Delna is turning into a major smuggling and trafficking hub where criminals can operate with impunity, serving as a base from which the Syndicate may act freely to force the entire eastern half of the kingdom into its’ network. They are banding together against her. There was even a request for intervention raised in the Queen’s Court, though weak as she is she is unlikely to respond. There are a lot of people saying another war is coming. Everyone is very angry about this in Felcair. Mother even wanted to end my studies, but I…I managed to dissuade her…and now I am here.” She takes another deep breath, looking at you uncertainly. Some sort of vague picture is forming in your mind. The point of abducting this girl was to pressure her mother into backing down. You don’t know why your former masters would want that, but it seems to be the most plausible explanation. “What do you know about the Shadow Council?” She seems taken aback by the question. “The…Shadow Council? I only know what everyone knows. My only sources are the occasional sensational story in the papers and history class.” “What does everyone know?” “Well, they are intended ‘watch over the people’ and ‘strike down tyrants and all others who seek to bring the people harm’. I don’t think they are doing that too well, though. Frankly, I always thought every one of their Acts in the last century was done by unrelated groups who wanted to lend their own threats and crimes an air of legitimacy. If they still exist, I know nothing about them. I really, really don’t.” You’ve encountered those words before in your many attempts to learn more about your condition. They never lead anywhere. Everyone seems to think the Shadow Council is long gone. Maybe that’s true and your former masters are just hiding behind their name to feed their own egos. There’s no way to know one way or another. Especially since you don’t know much about the “genuine” Shadow Council in the first place. You briefly consider asking your captive, but think better of it. You’ve spent enough time on her. You can look for a history book later. Without wasting another moment, you leap on her and pin her to the ground. Aside from a reflexive and futile attempt to push you away, she doesn’t struggle. She looks more confused than anything. You start the process, which already feels as natural as taking another breath. “But…why…?” she mumbles as the color drains from her face and vapor spills out from her mouth. You don’t bother acknowledging her words. Instead, you hold out a small vial filled with translucent liquid. It doesn’t take long for it to gain a shade of deep crimson. It’s over. She is dead and you have another day’s worth of essence. That’s all there is to it. *** There. The new course is set. The airship should fly out over the ocean and keep going until fuel runs out. Ultimately, it should plunge into the water and break apart from the impact, its’ components later drifting in different directions. While you were tempted by its’ mobility, keeping the airship is simply too great a risk. You have no doubt they will be looking for it before long. As you exit the pilot’s chamber for the last time, you bask in the joy of freedom once more. This is better than you could have ever imagined. For what feels like the first time in your life, you have the luxury of making decisions on your own future. No matter what happens from here on, everything was worth it just to experience this feeling of control over your own fate. There is no time to linger. The airship is rapidly gaining altitude. You open an exterior door and jump out into the night. *** Hiking through thick forests isn’t your forte. At least two hours pass before Nivoa finally appears on the horizon. Its marble spires tower over the surrounding area, with their bright lights visible from afar even on a night like this one, when thick clouds block out all three moons entirely. Only twenty minutes more, and you will easily slip into the city under the cover of darkness. What then? There are many things you need: food, shelter, money and a reliable method of quietly hunting your targets are the ones that immediately spring to mind. No doubt there are many other aspects to consider. You’ve been in this city many times, but you are far from knowing it like the back of your hand. On the contrary, there are entire districts you’ve never set foot in. Worse still, you don’t know anyone here. You aren’t safe here. You need to do something, while it’s still night. The only question left to answer is what. Current Status: * Hours without essence: 6 * Essence in reserve: 1 AFancyQuestionMark fucked around with this message at 12:13 on Sep 20, 2018 |
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Sep 19, 2018 15:19
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Technically, there have already been suggestions for the last choice in the previous thread, but I would like some fresh input from here before proceeding.
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Sep 19, 2018 15:23
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Go to the poorer, more lawless areas and gather information
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Sep 19, 2018 23:38
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AFancyQuestionMark posted:This is a revival of my short-lived thread from half a year ago.  Welcome back! I liked this CYOA when you first launched it, happy to see it revived! AFancyQuestionMark posted:How brief? I intend to wrap this up by the end of September. I will try for daily updates, assuming there are no unexpected IRL distractions. Awwwww, I was hoping this would run for awhile! Still, do what you have time for I suppose. AFancyQuestionMark posted:You need to do something, while it’s still night. The only question left to answer is what. Go to the wealthy sections of town and start finding possible folks to 'ally' with. We have a unique skillset, and, we need to learn more about this world, and how to survive in it.
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Sep 19, 2018 23:58
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Long term goal: Find and kill the Shadow Council. Seems nearly impossible on our own. Even if we hang out around agitators waiting for assassinations, the Council's puppets won't know more than we did. We need resources, context, and more sets of eyes. Mid term goal: Make contact with the Syndicate. Presumably an excellent source of all of the above. The one confirmed enemy of the Shadow Council's interests that we know of. Well, second but lets wait til we've washed her daughter's blood off before we go looking to contact the Duchess. Anyway, need to meet the Syndicate on good terms, with insurance that they don't just torture us for info once they find out what we are. Short term goal: Make allies in the criminal underworld. People to watch our back that are willing deal with all the illegal poo poo we plan on doing. Pay them well, treat them well, train them well. Criminal activity should draw Syndicate attention assuming there's any organized in their organized crime. To impress potential allies, we need to be healthy, weathy, and brimming with essence. Immediate goal: We need food, shelter, and information. That means money. We also need essence, preferably on someone who won't be missed quickly. A place with a ready supply of transient, cash-carrying victims would be a hotel, preferably of the seedier variety. Of critical importance is that we don't leave a trail of shriveled bodies. Figure out some sort of corpse disposal plan once we get the lay of the land.
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Sep 20, 2018 04:12
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so definitely locate a pig farm or an extremely rat-infested region of the sewers
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Sep 20, 2018 04:16
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Or a soapmaker.
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Sep 20, 2018 04:20
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Not Alex posted:Or a soapmaker. splendid thinking. We could sell perfumed soaps rendered from the fatty remnants of our seedy lowlife feeding habits. It's almost Fight Club-esque.
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Sep 20, 2018 04:23
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By the time you reach the city, your goal is set. The local criminal underworld holds many opportunities for you: useful information, money, a place to safely hide from any pursuers, potential allies used to operating outside of the common constraints of society and a steady supply of victims. Eventually, you might even have a chance to make contact with the Syndicate. From what you’ve just heard, they might make a useful ally against the Shadow Council. You can’t survive on your own forever, and they are the only lead you have to go on so far. You quickly make your way through a chaotic mess of streets and alleyways, accompanied only by the dim gaslight of the occasional streetlamp. Even in a city as grand and wealthy as Nivoa, there are places were few dare venture after dark. The Stone Quarter consists of some of the oldest districts in the city, left behind in its rapid expansion. A few of your missions took you through here in the past, yet you are perfectly aware that you are an outsider here, with only a surface grasp of the area’s many ways, turns and dead-ends. But your training doesn’t fail you. It takes you less than half an hour to find what you were looking for. A small, dingy building is tucked away in a filthy back alley. The rotten wooden sign by the door depicts a bed. This should serve as a safe source of funds and essence for the night. It’s unlikely that anyone staying in a place like this has many acquaintances in the city who will notice their absence. The flimsy door gives in to a firm push. The cheap lock drops to the floor, broken. The stale air and the heavy scent of cheap ale assault your senses as you enter the dark, cramped space inside. In a single motion, you grab a nearby table, turn it on its side and place it behind the door, completely blocking the entrance. This should give you some time to react if someone attempts to intrude or escape. Your keen hearing picks up on the telltale sounds of a heavyset man rising from a bed in the adjacent room. You were loud enough to wake him. It doesn’t matter. You turn to greet him, dagger in hand… *** You watch intently as a thin vapor slips out from the olive skinned woman’s lips and mixes with the translucent liquid in the vial. Unlike the others, she hasn’t woken from her slumber, not even with your dagger firmly embedded in her chest. Her clothes and facial features betray her as a foreigner, likely from somewhere along the southern coast. What was she doing here? It doesn’t really matter now. You retrieve the dagger from the husk that was her body just a moment ago and walk away. She was the last one. Three middle-aged men and one young woman. Fifty three copper coins and two silver ones. Not a bad haul for fifteen minutes’ work. This should be more than enough to sustain you for the next few days. With your basic needs secured, you are free to turn your attention to other matters. First, what should you do with these husks? There is no doubt that they will eventually catch the attention of the Shadow Council if you just leave them lying around. You could dump them in the Sautpass, the river that runs through the city and into the Great Savorian Lake, but they could easily float to the surface somewhere along the way. Next, how should you acquaint yourself with the local criminal underworld? You know very little about it, so no obvious path of approach comes to mind. You must be careful no to expose yourself too much. There is also the matter of finding safe shelter for your stay in Nivoa, ideally with ready access to food, water and other supplies. You could drift from place to place, supplementing yourself with theft and whatever funds you can acquire, or look for a more stable arrangement. Whatever you decide, the night is only half-way over, so there is plenty of time left to act under the cover of darkness. Current Status: * Hours without essence: 7 * Essence in reserve: 5 * Copper Coins: 53 * Silver Coins: 2
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Sep 20, 2018 12:41
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Burn it down. Play the hapless victim without a place to stay to those who show up to keep the fire from spreading. See if you can go home with one. Don't immediately murder this one. Talk in the morning as a newcomer to the city to get information. Edit: We are fleeing a vicious boyfriend/drunken father (depending on the gender of our host) and they mustn't tell anyone about us. Edit 2: For longer term shelter, source of income, and connection to crime, we should seek out an opium den tomorrow. They will have a need for someone to clean the various unsavory messes of that sort of establishment. If they don't have a need, ensure a job opening (carefully) and return in a couple of days. Not Alex fucked around with this message at 14:02 on Sep 20, 2018 |
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Sep 20, 2018 13:47
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AFancyQuestionMark posted:First, what should you do with these husks? For now, stuff them in some burlap sacks and stick them in one of the rooms; we’ll have to find a disposal method as part of our ‘integration’ to this way of life. They’re dried out husks, yes? So, they don’t decompose or smell? AFancyQuestionMark posted:Next, how should you acquaint yourself with the local criminal underworld? You know very little about it, so no obvious path of approach comes to mind. You must be careful no to expose yourself too much. Find a not-too-reputable brothel and introduce yourself to the madam. Ask about their ‘security’ arrangement and see if we can become the ‘bouncer’ for the house; this will give us cover and opportunity to perhaps prey on customers who no one will miss, ala Sweeny Todd. Also ask to be introduced to the local ‘Community Leader’ as way of entry to the criminal underworld. AFancyQuestionMark posted:There is also the matter of finding safe shelter for your stay in Nivoa, ideally with ready access to food, water and other supplies. For now, use this ‘flop house’ as a base of operations, with the understanding that we clear out the husks and move on as soon as we gain traction at the brothel.
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Sep 20, 2018 22:49
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Not Alex posted:Burn it down. Play the hapless victim without a place to stay to those who show up to keep the fire from spreading. See if you can go home with one. Don't immediately murder this one. Talk in the morning as a newcomer to the city to get information. This. Now that we have some essence stockpiled we should also try to get better at interrogating people before we eat their souls. We didn't ask nearly enough questions. A few hours of Question Time of someone with basic knowledge of the area should help a lot.
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Sep 20, 2018 22:53
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After a brief period of contemplation, you come up with a way to dispose of the husks safely. It shouldn’t be too difficult – you’ve done this many times over the course of your service. There is plenty of old, cheap wooden furniture lying around and you’ve even found a matchbook in one of the rooms. You conceal your dagger beneath your clothes and get to work… *** You wait patiently as the fire consumes your surroundings. The smoke gradually becomes thicker and thicker, entering your airways even through the piece of fabric you’ve wrapped around your face in advance. Your eyes water and you can feel the heat searing your skin. The time to act is now. You run up to the door and, after effortlessly pushing the table aside, jump outside. You clamber up to your feet, distress and desperation evident in your every move. The fire’s effects on your body lend a lot to your performance. Your hair is singed at the edges. “Help! Help! Kh…” your cries are interrupted by a slightly exaggerated coughing fit. “Fire! There’s a fire! Can anyone hear me? Please…” your hoarse voice sounds increasingly more panicked with each word. Several confused figures step outside their homes to stare at your little spectacle. Smoke is already pouring out of the hotel and the heat can be felt across the back alley. It doesn’t take too long for the neighbors to spring into action, and soon you can see groups arriving from the direction of the river, carrying buckets filled with water. Visibly exhausted, you sit down in a corner, out of the firefighters’ way but still in plain sight. It doesn’t take too long for one of them to approach you. “What happened in there?” he asks in a loud voice. “I don’t know...I…I woke up to the smell of smoke…I was almost trapped in my room. Fire everywhere. I run as fast as I could…I think I heard someone else moving around inside. They’re still in there!” “Got it.” he says, quickly turning back to assist the others. You doubt he will remember you by the time the smoke clears. You kick back and watch as the flames are extinguished, one by one. From the look of the damage to the building, no one is likely to think twice about the state of the bodies. After the fire dies down, they will likely be unceremoniously dumped into the Sautpass or maybe buried in unmarked graves. No trace of your presence, nothing to catch the interest of the authorities or the Shadow Council’s informants in the city. This is what your handlers would call a “flawless operation”. A blueprint for the less experienced operatives to study and emulate, a report that would net any field leader plenty of praise and essence. All so they keep up their efforts in quietly and efficiently taking care of their masters’ dirty work. Nothing feels better than knowing that all of that is behind you. You are free now. Free to set your own goals and evaluate your own performance. Free to do your own dirty work. “Hey! Are you alright?” asks a confident male voice. You turn your head to see a young man, who looks to be only three or four years older than you, with short hair, cheap clothes and several aggressive tattoos. Likely a member of some local street gang. “I…think so. Just need a few moments to catch my breath. I am fine, really.” an affected tremble lends your voice a sense of frailness and uncertainty. “You don’t look fine to me, missy. Got some other place to spend the night?” “N…No. But…” “Then you need to follow me. Trust me, someone like you shouldn’t be wandering around here alone. Come on, stand up.” You cast a hesitant expression in his direction. He extends a hand to you, a friendly smile stretched across his face. You’ve seen more than enough men just like him back before your enslavement, when you were just a lonely girl living on the streets, struggling to survive. This is almost nostalgic, in a sense. You grasp his hand, seemingly reluctantly, and let him pull you up to your feet. He starts walking away from the hotel, pulling you along with him. “Where are we going?” “A safe place where you can rest for the night. Don’t worry, it’s not far.” “But…I don’t have any money. I left all of my belongings back in the room…” “We aren’t going to charge you! You worry way too much, missy. Why don’t you stop doing that and tell me your name?” “…Amy. My name is Amy.” you say the second normal name that comes to mind. You almost called yourself Amelyn, but decided to hold back, just in case. “Well, Amy. You obviously aren’t from around here. What led you to stay at that shoddy place?” “I can’t tell you, its…its too unpleasant.” you say uncertainly. “Unpleasant?” he chuckles, “Missy, I doubt there is anything you can tell me that’s more unpleasant than the things I see every night around here.” This is almost too easy. You start reciting the script you’ve written in your mind before you so much as lit the match that sparked the fire. “I don’t know if I should be talking about this, but I…ran away.” you pause dramatically before continuing in a tone as manic as you can manage, “From my fiancé. My father introduced me to him half a year ago and we got engaged after our first week together. He seemed nice enough at the time, and our family needed the money. He is a merchant who travels often, so he asked me to come with him on his trip to Nivoa. But the farther we got from home the further he changed. He was always very assertive, but on this trip he started to demand more and more from me, and snapping when I couldn’t handle it. I was bearing it, struggling yet carrying on, like a dedicated partner should, until a week ago. It finally became too much. I tried to talk with him, to fix our relationship, but he wouldn’t have it. He…hit me, over and over again. After he left, I lay there for over two hours. I thought I would die. On that night, I ran. I ran and ran, until I was on the other side of Nivoa. Then I wandered around until I found the hotel. I’ve been staying there ever since. I didn’t know what to do, how to fund my way back home with the few belongings I had taken with me. Then this fire…I lost everything. There’s no way I can get back home now. I don’t even know how I can survive tomorrow on my own…I…should I go back to…?” your voice breaks at the right moment, letting the implication hang in the air. You carefully study your guide’s expression. He seems a bit taken aback initially, but recovers quickly and adopts an overeagerly reassuring expression. Inwardly, he is overflowing with glee at his good fortune. As you expected, your cover story made you an even more attractive target for him. Your seeming isolation, sudden destitution and weakness of personality make for easy pressure vectors. No doubt he believes he can leverage them to manipulate you into doing whatever it is he wants from you. If only your handlers back at the island were as easy to read, you would have been able to break free much sooner. “Look, Amy. I know everything seems hopeless to you, but trust me, it isn’t – it never is. You may be in bad shape right now, but you never know what tomorrow will bring. Gods, I may even be able to help you! Just take a deep breath and relax. Forget about your worries for the rest of tonight and let me take care of everything. Tomorrow, I will call a few of my friends over and we will figure something out together. I have a few ideas already…” he trails off, deliberately avoiding mentioning any specifics, presumably to keep your hopes up for as long as possible. As the two of you conversed, he walked you through the dark and chaotic mess of stone streets at a remarkably brisk pace, like only someone who traverses it every night could. Despite the shortage of light or any readily discernable landmarks, you are fairly confident that you have a solid handle on the path you took and would be able to reproduce it, backwards and forwards, at a moment’s notice. After all, on the fly navigation has been in fairly consistent demand on your missions. “And here we are, my lady!” he gives an exaggerated bow and gestures towards what looks to be an old, moderately-sized abandoned storehouse. You stand in place, taking a posture of vague apprehension. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but it’s safe, I swear. I’ve used to spend a lot of nights here myself, back in the day. Still sleep in from time to time.” “Thank you for your hospitality, er…you haven’t told me your name.” “Tristan. It’s Tristan. Sorry.” he says, flustered. It seems he genuinely forgot to mention this earlier. “Friends call me ‘Trusty Tristy’. Yes, that sounds dumb, but what can you do?” You contort your face into an amused expression. “Right. Tristan, thank you for your hospitality.” you say in a slightly more cheerful tone. You follow him inside. The storehouse is sparse and disorganized, with several large boxes dividing it into a several separate spaces. Shallow pools of leftover candle wax litter the floor, and the sharp scents of various kinds of smoking leaves hang in the air, vying for your attention. A muscled man who appears only barely older than your companion sits on the floor, absentmindedly playing with a cheap deck of cards. “Well, would you look at who crawled in tonight! Tristyyy! Finally found the time to visit your old friend, huh? I thought I would never see the day.” “Oh, don’t be such a prick, Jamey. We met just last week, remember?” “Sure, but we both now you weren’t there for me, were you, Tristy? I guess that’s true tonight as well. So, why don’t you spill? Who’s the cutie? Why did you drag her in here?” “I didn’t drag anyone anywhere. Amy here just needs a place to spend the night.” “Is that so? Well, don’t let me stop you. The place is yours for the night. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your fun, now, would I?” “That’s unexpectedly nice of you, Jamey, but Amy is here to rest. I am going out to find my own fun back on the streets. Alone. As always. So you should probably stay here and keep watch.” “Figures. No way a cutie like that would ever willingly spend any time with you.” he turns to you, looking you over, “Amy, watch yourself around this scoundrel. You never know what goes through a mind of a man that desperate and insecure.” “Wow, Jamey. Never thought I would hear such an honest self-assessment from you. I guess Amy helps brings out the best in people, huh? As they say, step one is admitting your problem, step two is facing it head on, step three…” “Right, that’s enough out of you, you third-rate jester. Why not leave your guest to rest? I am sure she is tired of your blabbering by now. I sure am.” “That’s what I wanted to do before you started hounding me! Don’t mind him, Amy, just follow me.” He takes off towards a boxed-off section at the back of the storehouse. You follow, after having remained silent throughout the entire exchange, wearing a meek and slightly awkward expression. Several dirty old pillows, sheets and paper-thin blankets that reek of cheap alcohol are strewn haphazardly across the floor of the boxed-in area. “Here you go. Feel free to make yourself at home. This might not be as comfortable as you’re used to, but it should do.” “No, this is fine. Thank you, Tristan. I don’t know what I would have done without you…” “Oh, it’s nothing. Now, I am off to hunt for my friends out on the streets. If you need anything, ask Jamey. He can be quite the obnoxious character, but I’m sure he’ll try to help you out. Be sure to get as much rest as you need. We have an…interesting…discussion ahead of us tomorrow. I think we’ll be able to help you with your troubles.” “Good night, Tristan. And thank you again for all of your help.” “As I said, it’s nothing. Good night, Amy.” You watch as he leaves the enclosure. You have high hopes for tomorrow, though for much different reasons than what you’ve let on. You could likely use the promised discussion to extract information about the local criminal underworld relevant to your interests while they attempt to coerce you into working for them. You lie down on one of the sheets and tuck yourself in. You close your eyes and try to enter alert sleep. This self-trained method allows you to rest your body and escape your thoughts while still being fully aware of your surroundings, letting you jolt yourself awake at the slightest odd sound or whenever you wish to. The technique was invaluable back on the island, during your long quest for freedom, as the others occasionally fully fell asleep. “Try not to mess with her too much.” you hear Tristan’s voice in the distance, “She’s very delicate. From the sound of it, she’s been through a lot. We should be gentle with her.” “I can see that, Tristy. This isn’t my first day in this business. Just joking around a bit, is all.” “Good. I am heading out. Counting on you.” “No worries, friend. Watch yourself out there.” With that, your guide walks out into the night, and you slowly drift off into the relatively peaceful realm of alert sleep. *** You silently jump to your feet at the sound of a small group entering the storehouse. About six hours passed since you were last awake. You quickly gulp down a vial filled with essence to restore your vitality and mental capacity. You need to be at your best for the next few hours. Who knows how things may progress? In any operation, there is always room for unforeseen developments to challenge even the most carefully constructed plan, let alone something as spontaneous as what you’re doing now. “Everything okay last night? How is she?” you hear your guide’s voice outside the enclosure. “Yes, Tristy. She slept like a rock, unlike yours truly, who would really like to take a nap right about now.” “That will have to wait. We have an important proposition to discuss.” says a more mature male voice. “Jamey, I don’t have the energy to stand here and listen to your poo poo. Not after being up since yesterday morning and wandering in circles all night, while you worked hard at playing with cards or whatever the gently caress you do in here.” declares a gruff female voice, “Let’s just go wake the girl up, please.” “Sheesh, Lora, you really can’t help but ruin the mood every time, don’t you?” asks Tristan, “Nevermind. I think it will go down better if I speak with her first, so all of you just wait here for a few minutes, please.” You are already back in your makeshift bed by the time he reaches the enclosure. You slowly turn at his approach, as if groggily reacting to his presence. “Good morning, Amy!” he says, radiating confidence. “Huh…Oh, Tristan. I…ah…” you perform a deep yawn, “…am glad to see you. Good morning and thank you again for last night.” “Can you stop with that, please? I already said, it was nothing. So, Amy? Do you remember what we talked about? Your money problems? The friendly discussion we planned?” You sit up and adopt a more serious expression. “Yes. Do you really think you can help me? I’ve imposed on you a lot already…” “Not even going to repeat myself about that last part. Now, we can help you, but only if you agree to help us in return. My friends are gathered over there,” he gestures at the other side of the box enclosure, “and are going to explain our proposal to you. It’s going to make you uncomfortable, maybe even scare you a little. Please understand, we expect that sort of reaction, and aren’t going to make you do anything you don’t want to. Don’t feel pressured to go along with us simply because we helped you yesterday. You are under no obligation to us, and can walk away at any time. But, with all that said, remember that you don’t have a lot of options to safely get back home. To get the money you need, you might find yourself willing to do things you would never have considered otherwise, things you don’t know how to do, and, yes, things that frighten you a bit. All I ask is that you hear us out, seriously consider our proposal and think about your other options for a bit. Work out what you’re willing to do and how you’re going to resolve your problems, and make your choice. Let it be as informed as possible. Okay?” You display your best attempt at a deeply worried and uncertain expression. This man seems to be an incredibly talented (or incredibly experienced) recruiter. Effortlessly identifying an isolated target at the immediate aftermath of a tragedy, vulnerable both mentally and materially, lost in a foreign city, with nowhere to go and no one to help them. Offering a friendly, helping hand in their time of need, listening to their problems and giving them hope they thought lost. Then, after they already feel indebted to him, offer to resolve their troubles under one condition – they agree to work for him. No obligations, of course. The target can just walk away if they reject his proposal, and be left alone to deal with their problems, just as before. But few would willingly choose to return to a crippling state of helplessness and isolation over assisting their new friend, who had already lifted them up from that same state. In fact, no one in their right mind would choose the former option. A stray thought enters your mind. You wonder, just for a moment, what would have happened had the Shadow Council employed this tactic, instead of forcing your hand with essence. Would you have still felt the same resentment? Perhaps so, yet... “Amy? You alright? Do you need a moment?” “No, thank you. I am fine.” you played your role a bit too well there. You mustn’t forget what you’re here for, ultimately, or risk being caught off guard. “I’ll listen.” you force out, in a resigned tone. “Thank you, this time. Just take a deep breath and listen with an open mind. That’s all I ask.” He steps back and motions for the others to join him. As they enter the enclosure, you scan each of them as thoroughly as possible. Jamey appears the same as last night, with his wide self-satisfied grin, save for a more tired manner, though you believe it to be exaggerated for effect. A rough looking woman with short hair, disheveled clothes, various cheap stone piercings all over her face and what looks to be surprisingly detailed body art is pacing around the room impatiently. She appears to be six or so years older than you. She seems both exhausted and deeply frustrated with something. A man in a rustic coat and an old-fashioned hat is calmly examining your reaction. He is the oldest member of the group by far, being well into his thirties. “Good morning, Amy.” says the older man in a contemplative tone, “My name is Oliver, and I am the leader of our little outfit. This wonderful young lady is Loralei. You’ve already met James and Tristan.” “It’s… nice to meet you.” you say as uncertainly as possible, directed at no one in particular. “Can we skip over the pleasantries, please?” asks the woman in an irritated tone, “It would be fairer to both of us.” “Hush, you.” whispers Tristan. “Now, now, Loralei, it wouldn’t do to scare off a potential new friend simply out of impatience, now, would it?” he clears his throat, not waiting for a response, ”Amy, as I am sure you are aware, we have a proposal for you that could benefit the both of us. Before that, I am going to say something explicitly, to be as clear as possible. Ours is a criminal organization. To be more precise, we are one of those oft-derided ‘gangs’ that plague the Stone Quarter. We control, or rather, purport to control, the area around this immediate vicinity, from here to your burned-down hotel to Sautpass. We call ourselves ‘The Peacekeepers’, an oft mocked name that symbolizes our presumption and arrogance, in keeping with our upstart nature. If you hear local residents mention ‘keepers’ or ‘peaceniks’, they are referring to us. We employ about two dozen helpers, but the ones making the decisions, our ‘core’, so to speak, are the people in front of you. Despite what you may have heard, we are not entirely rotten to our core. As I am sure you’ve found already, we can be quite pleasant. As the name implies, we mainly concern ourselves with keeping the peace in our territory, maintaining its integrity and raising funds for these efforts as well as our personal enrichment. We try to protect the welfare of the people residing in our territory, while otherwise keeping out of their way, so long as they respect our authority. I understand you’re not used to thinking in these terms or about these subjects. You don’t have to. However, I’ve heard you are in need of shelter, resources to sustain yourself and funds to return home. What I am proposing is that you work with us and we share our profits with you, as with any of our other helpers. We will also keep you safe, fed and comfortable, to the best of our ability. In this way, you can acquire the funds you need to move back home, or maybe even a bit more, while not worrying about your personal well-being. What do we need from you? It’s simple really – you are an outsider in this city, and a relatively recent one at that. Not many people know you, unlike the others in our organization. We can use that. You can go to places we can’t without raising suspicion. There is no readily apparent thread tying you with us or any other known rascals, so you can move about unmolested. We often receive parcels from out of town and have dealings with other districts of the city, all of which we approach at great risk to ourselves, but not so for you. Obviously, while the risk you will be taken on is greatly reduced when compared to us, it still exits and will keep rising the longer you work with us. This is what you need to weigh, together with any moral scruples and personal antipathies, against the needs you would struggle to fill without us. Take as much time as you need. We will remain nearby, so you can ask us anything you think will help you make a decision.” Finished with his well-rehearsed speech, the older man takes a couple of steps back, as if to give you space to sort out your own thoughts. There are indeed some thoughts to sort out, though not quite the ones your would-be employers are expecting. The only surprising part of this proposal is the exact nature of the work. You suspected they were about to ask you to work as a prostitute, the way things were going, at which point you would have had to cut things off because your talents and interests don’t lie in that particular direction. Fortunately, that didn’t end up being the case, so you can actually consider their proposal seriously. On the one hand, this can serve as an excellent opportunity to infiltrate the local criminal underworld and obtain useful resources and acquaintances, just as you wanted. On the other hand, this type of work has the potential to get you embroiled in petty local gang politics, which could earn you some unnecessary enemies and possibly raise your profile enough for local authorities to take notice. At that point, its only a matter of time until you fall under the Shadow Council’s gaze. In short, you need to decide whether to accept their proposal or not. If not, how should your proceed towards your original goals? If you do accept it, how should you discreetly acquire more essence in the future? You would need some way to balance your new duties with your need for essence to minimize the risk of discovery. Regardless, of what you choose, this is an excellent opportunity to acquire some much needed information about Nivoa, its politics and its underworld. What should you ask and how should you ask it? You don’t want to cause them to doubt your motives. Current Status: * Hours without essence: 0 * Essence in reserve: 4 * Copper Coins: 53 * Silver Coins: 2
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Sep 24, 2018 00:32
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Hahaha yea, this works. Best outcome, really. One wonders how much of the light touch is real or if they need mules calm and collected to blend in. Accept obviously
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Sep 24, 2018 00:52
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Accept, try to keep a low profile for a while
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Sep 30, 2018 17:29
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