Guild Wars-IC

[Elistan]

OOC Thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=7027718#post7027718).

{table=head] Name | Animal | Role | Guild Job | Skills
Arnold Ruttin | Rat | Sneak, Eavesdropper | Informant, Thief, Forger | Sneaking 2/+2, Forging 1/+3, Pick Pocketing 1/+3, Knife Fighting 1/+3, Gathering Information (Contacts) 1/+2
Alfonso Madrino | Tiger | Assassin, Botanist | Assassin | Stealth 1/+2, Fencing 2/+3, Botany 1/+2, Marksmanship 1/+1, Fighting in Animal Form 1/+3
Adarkar Silverfist | Badger | Combatant | Enforcer | Hybrid/Animal Form Fighting 6/+2
Marietta | Brown Bear | Leader, Caretaker | Guild Head, Bookkeeper | Haggling/business 1/+2, Local History 1/+3, Area 1, Intimidation 1/+2, Fighting With Claws 1/+2, Fighting With Club 1/+2
Virgil Reynard von Ruppa | Corsac Fox | Inventor | Inventor | Engineering (Intricate Mechanisms) 3/+3, Fighting (Dirty) 1/+2, Charisma (Seduction) 1/+2, Marksmanship (Trick Shots) 1/+3
Malcom Morgenstern | Cat | 'Face', Contact | Contact, Bartender, Supplier | Seduction 1/+2, Fighting Unarmed 1/+2, Street Connections 2/+2, Deception/Smooth-Talking 2/+2[/table]

Shanora, City of Diamond Lights. It is the beacon of light and civilization, a glowing symbol of the power and dominance of man. It houses a hundred and twenty thousand souls, more than twice as many as Doran, the capitol city. It produces hundreds of inventions per year, thousands of improvements for existing items. Without it, the country would lie in darkness.

And yet, not all is light and happy in the city. There is a festering corruption at its heart. A pulsing darkness. For in the alleys and slums of the city, there is no light, no happiness. There is survival, and there is death. These truths govern all life in these desolate places.

But even here, in this darkest of places, some few seek to rise above the mindless survival and become more. Though it may be through less than noble means, they seek to elevate themselves, to rise from the darkness. These are the Guilds.

The Guilds exist in a relative peace with each other, for the most part indifferent to one another. As long as they do not trespass on another's land, they are safe. For that is the only safety in these dark halls. There is strength in numbers, and strength is the only survival, the only safety.

The Guild of Changers is a young guild, merely a child in the politics of this city within a city. But they are eager to make a place for themselves, eager to prove they can rise above, they can become more.

But now come dark rumors of another guild. One that has no care for jurisdiction or territory. One that simply slaughters those that it chooses. But these are merely rumors, and why should they matter to the Changers?


"But Ma'am, I can't supply no more meat iff'n I ain't got no more meat!" The small man cowers before the large matronly woman in front of him, trembling as he glances at the strange figures standing around her.

It struck him as an odd company to run a tavern, but who was he to be curious about such things? As long as he was paid for the meat, he would continue to deliver. Until now.

The drought in the plains had dragged on, and the cattle coming into the city were scarce, and the prices had soared. It wasn't his fault he couldn't supply as much meat as these people wanted! And why did they need so much meat after all? It certainly never looked that busy when he was in here.

"Here, I'll cut ye a deal. Ye give me a week ta find some more meat, and ye'll be the firs' 'uns I sells it to! Hows that fit ye?"

[WhiteKnight777]

Malcolm

Malcolm leaned back against the wall, his eyes half-lidded. The heavy, beating sun that accompanied the drought had made him languid in the heat, and he had to fight to keep himself from losing his temper. Usually incredibly cool and reserved - at least, for a changer - he felt the oppressive temperatures working to undermine his calm facade. Nevertheless, his voice when he spoke was even and calm, his honeyed, throaty voice sweetly reasonable.

Come now, my friends. I'm sure our most excellent shopkeep here understands the situation more clearly now, and will endeavor to provide what we need in a timely manner. Surely there's no need for anything... rash.

[tonberryking]

Marietta huffs aloud. She's not much taller than the cowering man in front of her but her stout frame would indicate she could probably snap this guy in half without much trouble. And with the heat rising, she's been irritable enough to do it. Making a show of glaring at Malcom (facetiously) the guild matron chooses her words... not so carefully.

"Bah! I suppose I'll be telling this to my customers that they should be paying to come down to MY tavern and fast for a week, eh? You're being too soft, Mal, much too soft."

She stomps a foot, getting in pretty close to the craven man and glowers at him. "See here, little man, I pay good coin for meat, not excuses. If there's a drought, there's got to be some poor farmers somewhere nearby who slaughter their animals so's they don't have to feed THEM, and I suggest you find these farmers much quicker than you're telling me."

[Copacetic]

Alfonso

Alfonso, perhaps a little irritatedly, slouches by the bar. He strokes his beard, slowly. A lack of meat was an annoyance, not a cause for alarm. Marietta, on the other hand, was a cause for alarm. So Alfonso did not say anything. just stared.

[Nohbdi]

Virgil

Sitting a little further down the bar than Alfonso and armed, as always, with a charcoal stick and some cheap parchment, Virgil glanced up from the notes of his latest project to smirk a little.

"I am hoping we are not to be expecting to starve with the customers," he stage-whispered towards the Spaniard, knowing full well his comment could easily be overheard by the rest. "I am hearing that the music guild is considering the growling of the stomach for to be a new and intriguing form of instrument, but I am thinking it is not so much for me."

Chuckling a little at his own joke, he turned his head back down, pretending to focus on the rough drawings in front of him while in reality keeping an open ear to the conversation. Never can be too careful with these shopkeepers, he thought idly to himself in his native tongue. If he's not trying to weasel the best price he can for the least amount of effort, he's a fool. Hmm, weasel...I wonder what wine would go with that...

[Elistan]

"Bu-...Surely yo-..." The man sputters, his face slightly red, "Surely ma'am, ye can't be expectin' me ta venture into them plains, looking fer some dirt poor peasant farmer to buy cattle from, simply acause you and your....company require a strangely suspicious amount of raw meat." His face grows resolute, and he stands straighter, "Naw I gave ya a mighty fine offer, and iff'n ye don't want ta be takin' it, well that ain't my problem, is it?"

[Copacetic]

Alfonso


The edges of his mouth twist upward, briefly, underneath his beard. Alfonso shifts his weight around uncomfortably. He replies in a smooth and oily voice.

These musicians, they are loco, yes? But I do not think we should be worrying. There is always a way to find meat.

After that ominous pronouncement, he turned around, reached over the bar, and grabbed himself a bottle of something that smelled like jet fuel.

May I tempt anyone?

[WhiteKnight777]

Malcolm

Malcolm held up one hand in a warding gesture "Your 'private stock' again, Alfonso? I think not. The last time I tried that I woke up without my trousers in someone else's bed. Admittedly, that's usually the definition of a good morning for me, but the epic hangover that stuff gives me makes dodging flung furniture and irate husbands far too difficult."

He seemed to be entirely ignoring the little man now, until his head swung back around, as if noticing he was still here. He gave him exactly the sort of look a bored, well-fed cat gives a small rodent - the kind of look that says 'I'm wondering just how much fun you would be to chase, and if you're worth the effort'

"I think we expect you to do your job. And if you don't, we can always take our substantial business elsewhere. I hope you have other customers who require the same amounts of meat that we do."

[Nohbdi]

Virgil

"'Loco'," Virgil repeated as he rolled the still-unfamilliar word around on his tongue once or twice. "This is a good word for musicians," he sagely replied. He glanced off-handedly at the proffered bottle, then looked a second time, his eyes and smile widening a bit. "Ah, something of a more proper strength. If you are offering, good man Alfonso, I am accepting."

Chuckling slightly, he slid his personal, sturdy mug down the bar for a sample after making sure it was already empty. "Only one however, I think. I am appreciating the waking up in some strange woman's bed without pants as much as the next man, but I am also finding I am enjoying it more if I am remembering what happened to lead to this."

[tonberryking]

Marietta shoots a warning glance at the boys, her oft-spoken warning of what she does to employers who get too bombed (in one way or another) coming to mind: "If you get into that damn moonshine too much I'm going go loco, carpet my quarters with your hairy hides and bathe your still living carcasses in salt."

But she doesn't dwell on it, due to the much more pressing matter."It's going to be your problem when a major source of your income decides to invest in a competitor. If you go to even half the trouble you're making this out as, then come back with the goods and we'll argue about something for your troubles. But if you'd rather lose out... You seem so sure of your limitations, I couldn't possibly expect someone like you to make up the loss of our bar by replacing it taking orders from numerous other places to make up our one big order."

She prods the man with a long yet slightly blunted nail. "if we suffer, then you suffer too.

Haggle and Intimidation!: [roll0][roll1]

[Copacetic]

Alfonso

The Changer twists the corners of his mouth up again, and grabs the proffered mug as it slides past. He tips a tad, nothing more, out of the mysterious bottle before sliding it back again.

There is not always a man who has the, ah, taste and refinement to enjoy such delicacies and the aftereffects. There is something to be said for dodging angry furniture, however.

In a display of flashyness, he flips the bottle up, catches it, and waterfalls a portion straight down his throat before sticking the cork back in.

See Marietta? Just a drop of to wake me up.

His face has twisted into that contorted grin again.

[Elistan]

The man sputters again, "Na don't be so hasty, ma'am. Ye be speakin' my language now; this 'arguin' about sumtin' fer me troubles', na that sounds fine ta these ears." He sweeps and elegant leg, bowing till his forehead practically brushes the floor. He stands, his face somewhat red, and addresses Marietta again, "I'll be havin' tha meat fer ya in three days, and then we'll be talkin' about sumtin' extra fer me labors, eh?" With that he turns and strides out the door, leaving the tavern empty and silent.

It will be several hours before the evening regulars come in, but there is always some odd job to be done about the bar.

[tonberryking]

"Hell's bells, sometimes I'm too soft for my own good. What a mess-- He thinks he can bleed us dry, does he?

With a sweeping gesture, Marietta scowls and tromps back towards the bar, gesturing to each of the other guild members in turn with specific (but surly) orders.

"I'm having none of that. Someone find that rat Arnold. Get him to to scour the city; not just for someone else in the meat market who can get a decent job done, but there are bound to be poachers we can hire with fewer scruples. Malcom..." she starts, now a bit calmer, and thinking more level-headed.

"I think he's playing us for chumps. The drought didn't just start yesterday. Think you can hunt down some information on our little meat peddler? I want to know what else he's up to and what we can use as leverage against him... Alfonso-- hm. Stay on alert; I may need you to silence him if he's too chatty about this. He seems like the type who'd be verbose about dealing with us."

[Copacetic]

Alfonso


Alfonso salutes mockingly.

Aye-aye madam. Awating further orders and all that. Just say the word and the person of your choosing is dead within next twenty and four hours, yes? Wonderful. Till then, I've got not to do and a lot of tim eto do it in. Malcolm, you think you would be needing help?

[WhiteKnight777]

Malcolm

Malcolm gives a little nod, arching his back, then flexing his arms and fingers. He moved with sinuous grace as he followed the werebear along.

"Mmm... with the sort of sweet talk you're throwing around, Mary, anything. How dirty do you want me to get with the leverage? Are we talking about seeing if he has anything underhanded we could squeal on to the taxman, or seeing if he has anything or anyone valuable we can break?"

[tonberryking]

Marietta

"Nnngh... I'd hope for dirt for the authorities," Marietta glances upwards, presumably where the girls she's helped take off the street are preparing for the night, "I have qualms about killing someone else's cubs but if he has a wife, whore or lover-boy or some such somewhere, keep them within reach... But don't let him know I'm fond of children either, if you catch my drift.

[Nohbdi]

Virgil

With the mug in his grasp and his attention on the conversation, Virgil quietly sipped his drink. He said nothing at first, simply listening and considering. Not like any of this was his business - or rather, it was business, just not his.

At the talk of handling the meat peddler, and the rather...interesting options brought up, he simply took another sip, then a third, savoring the taste and strength of his drink before finishing it off.

Setting down the mug, he smiled off-handedly at Marietta, turning on the barstool to face the main group better. "So then," he said resignedly, "I am believing it is for to be left to me to find the rat, yes? This other work, it is...not the kind I am thinking I am needed for." Sliding smoothly off the stool, he adjusted his clothes a little and scooped up his notes.

Pausing briefly, he added with a wink, "Best to send a fox for to find a rat, yes? Perhaps I am considering a snack if he is less than quick for to be found." Chuckling, he turned and headed to the back, planning to drop off his notes somewhere more private before searching for the rogue.

[WhiteKnight777]

Malcolm

Malcolm grinned and nodded wide, following Marietta's gaze, and giving a soft chuckle.

"As you wish. I'll depart immediately and see what I can find out. I'll see if I can find where he lives. Home is where the heart is, after all, and if we can wrap our hands around his heart..."

He trailed off, giving the rest a nod as he stepped out into the night. He would start by asking a few friends if they knew where he lived, and if they knew anything juicy. Barring that, he'd go for a little snoop in his animal shape. Few people noticed another curious tomcat roaming the alleyways, after all.

[Croverus]

Arnold

The sniffling cretin pulled himself out of a pile of trash, gnawing on... well, it's rather impossible what to tell it is at this point. He glances about and tosses the scrap back intot he pile, brushing himself off and making sure there was no one near he had to deal with. He steps out onto the street and makes his way back to the tavern. The matron was not going to bee too happy with his absence, he'd been gone much longer than he said he would. That's what happens when you drink your weight in moonshine in the middle of the city.

[Nohbdi]

Virgil

Having successfully found a place to stash his sketches for the time being, Virgil made his way towards the rear exit of the tavern; as this took him through the kitchen, he stopped a moment to retrieve a small chunk of cheese on his way by.

He blinked once or twice at the change in lighting from inside to out, pausing a moment to look this way and that along the rear alley, before picking a direction purely at random.

Now then, he thought to himself in his native tongue again, If I were a rat, where would I be... Hmm. Mangy, struffy, smelly, juicy...walking blood-sausage...

He stopped himself before he started drooling. All the earlier talk of meat was getting to him. He made a mental note to find a meal after hunting down the thief, at the very least so he wouldn't have to put up with a grumpy stomach.

Whistling softly, Virgil set off in search of the rat.

[Elistan]

Virgil finds Arnold meandering his way back towards the tavern, meeting him in an alley not far away.

Malcom heads to the home of Renald, a low end drug dealer working from a small boathouse by the docks. As he raps on the door he hears a voice from inside, "Leave me alone, 'cuz I ain't got none!"

[Croverus]

Arnold

"Hey there Virgil. Was wonderin if ya'd be out lookin fer me. Is Marietta at the tavern? If I know how things work the way I think they do, she's got a job fer me, yes?"

[Nohbdi]

Virgil

"Ah, hello for you as well, friend Arnold! I am looking for you, and now I am finding you!" Virgil smiled, nodding along with his greeting. "It is good I am finding you so quickly as well, yes? If I were to be taking too long, I am perhaps getting very hungry before I am finding you, and I am thinking this is not a good thing while I am looking for a rat, yes?" He chuckled a little, winking to show he was far from serious.

"But you are correct, I am looking for you for a reason, and that reason is named Marietta." Glancing nonchalantly around to make sure there wouldn't be any awkward moments involving strangers, he let his face grow a little more serious. "We are having some trouble earlier with the man who is delivering the meat," he said, guesturing idly with his hands. "He is saying, there is draught, there is no meat, he cannot sell meat he is not having. Marietta is saying, if there is draught, there is farmer wanting to get rid of hungry cows so they are having less mouths to feed. The man is saying, three days and more money, and he is having meat."

"So," he said, turning to look more directly at Arnold, "Marietta is saying to me, find the rat, tell him he is finding new sellers in meat market, tell him to be finding the poachers if he is not finding anyone better. And now, I am finding you. This is much talking, but I am hoping it is clear enough for a rat," he added with a playful wink.

[WhiteKnight777]

Malcolm

Malcolm put on his best grin, one which looked only slightly predatory as he pushed the door with more considerable force.

"Now now," he purred "is that any way to treat a friend, Renald? Open up. I don't need anything more than information."

[Elistan]

A small man opens the door, looking slightly nervous at the tone of voice that Malcom employed, "Oh, it's jus' you, Malcom! Why din't you jus' say so?" He gives a nervous chuckle, "Now, what can I be doin' for a fine gennleman like yerself? Like I was sayin', I ain't got nothin' to be sellin', so don't even be askin'. But if ye really jus' be needin' information, well, I may be able to help ya. For a price, of cours."

[tonberryking]

Meanwhile back at the Changers, Marietta bustles about, doing a few of her own odd jobs and prepares for the evening.

"Shamilla, where're you about?" she calls loudly, the were-bear glancing down one of her personal ledgers, trying to find someone who owes her or her father's memory a favor, someone with holdings out in the country. [roll0] Local history meta concept: She's looking through all her notes over people who owe her. If she has to buy or plan a cow pasture and build it herself, so be it.

Though the bear matron had hopes for her underling to be good at dancing, her refusal and Marietta's support leaves her to try to find something else for the girl.

If you're not lucky with girls, you're lucky at cards.

"Shamilla, get the rest of the girls out and awake before too long," she calls out, "And tell me who's dealing at our tables tonight; I've a job for you...

[Croverus]

Arnold

Arnold rubs his nose and nods. "Don'tcha worry, I know what yer sayin. I think I can find a few connections. Tell the Matron I'll some in tonight with any news."

Witht hat Arnold moved down an alley and made his way to the housing district where several merchants and poachers lived. He began asking around, hoping to find someone that could direct him to a new way to get meat in the coffers.

[Elistan]

There are many people who owe Marietta, but none that have direct access to large quantities of meat.

Shamilla walks in, "Sorry, matron, I was busy. Now, what were you saying?" She is slim and tall, dressed in a leather shirt, and leather pants like a man. She has a pair of daggers strapped to her belt, and a small sling and a pouch of stones next to them.


As Arnold asks about in the housing district, he hears the same thing, over and over: No meat is coming into the city, due to the drought. Even the hunters and poachers who make their living on the plains report that it is becoming increasingly difficult to find enough game to even make a living on.

[WhiteKnight777]

Malcolm

Malcolm sauntered in with that same self-satisfied smile he usually wore, and his voice, appropriately, was a purr. He didn't dare take a seat on any of the man's furnishings - no telling what vile little pests they might contain - so he simply leaned comfortably against a wall.

"I just wanted to know if you had any... information about a little meat-merchant who owns a shop not far from here" he said, giving the man's name and a description of his appearance. "Anything useful you've got will merit a suitable reward, of course."

[Elistan]

Renald feels his anger rising at the condescension that Malcom is showing, but he keeps it in check, "What sort o' information are you lookin' fer, Malcom? I know all sorts o' little things about all sorts o' little people. So what are you looking for, 'xactly?"

[WhiteKnight777]

Malcolm

Malcolm gave an innocent little smile "Oh, I just want to see if he's got any dirty little habits - Drugs. Girls. Boys. Can't have our meat supplier poisoning our customers if he's getting careless, after all."

[Elistan]

A slow smile spreads across Renald's face, "Oh, come now, Malcom. You can't be expectin' me to be givin' out this sort o' information free of charge, now can ya? What are ya offerin' in turn? And don't you be playin' innocent with me, now. I knows you can get your mitts on whatever ya like!"

[Croverus]

Arnold was frustrated and sighed, pausing in a dark alley to turn into a rat and eat some rotten meat he finds ina pile of rubbish. He could stand eating rotten and diseased meat when he was in his rat form, in fact he could probably stomach the food even as a human, certainly more so that the others. After eating to calm his nerveshe turned back to human when he was sure it was safe and made his way back to the tavern to give the matron the bad news.

[tonberryking]

Marietta takes her protege by the shoulder and leads her down to where the gambling is kept. "Sometimes we have to spend money to make money..." she mutters, more to herself than to anyone else, "I want you to instruct the girls tonight to keep on the lookout for any easy, rich marks we can get stinking drunk and leave penniless in a gutter somewhere, alive, but inebriated..." she says at first, knowing her will gets carried out, "Secondly, however, I've decided that you need a more concrete position, so tonight I want you to learn to deal cards and throw dice. You'll be our opening dealer. But, and I want to make this clear, I don't intend for you to be good. But after a few rounds, defer to our normal dealers; the switch should let us gain more than we lose...

[Nohbdi]

Virgil

In a perfect scenario, after having found Arnold and delivered his message, Virgil would, of course, have returned straight-away to the tavern where, most likely, he would either have set off straight away to work on his latest design scheme, possibly inventing the Next Big Thing that would have sent the profits for the guild sky-rocketing practically overnight; or, more likely, he would have tinkered with some clockwork 'toy' in his workshop and either broken something until it worked right or tried to revolutionize the scientific theories of machinery worldwide.

Fortunately, the tavern and its occupants were spared that sort of nonsense, as Virgil's stomach asserted its dominance over the situation. Instead of the 'perfect scenario' that could have occured, Virgil instead found himself trying to decide whether it was worth more to him at the moment to return to the tavern for a bite, find somewhere a little closer to his current locale (and risk the quality being even less than he'd prefer), or to simply go and find his own meal.

The third option eventually won out, and he set off towards the edge of town, trusting himself to be able to find a suitably secluded alleyway to change in before he'd reach the local excuse for a forest. He always did prefer fresh meat...