Blades in the Dark: Gangs of Duskovol IC thread

[dojango]

https://i.pinimg.com/736x/bb/57/bc/bb57bc6a78c563d3eb7bdb29e2a8b942--haunting-photos-london-photos.jpg

Another lovely evening in Duskovol. The messenger had promised a job, with good pay. You meet the contact in a private booth at the back of the public house. He's done his best to conceal his features beneath a hood. As each of you arrives, he nods in a friendly greeting, and pours you a glass of cheap fungal beer. Once everyone has arrived, he says, "I represent some concerned parties on a delicate matter. I need some reliable sorts to help me out. Short notice. You hear about the gang war? The Blood Walkers thought to make a play for the big time, and pissed off everyone. They're done for. Spirit Wardens been working overtime to clean up. Phineas Sharp, the bossman, and a few of his remaining loyalists have hidden in their secret lair. My informant tells me that the Bluecoats are going to raid it at dawn, haul everyone off to Ironhook. Phineas has a satchel with him. I need you to recover the satchel. Unopened, unread. It would be... embarrassing... if the Inspectors find it during the raid."

https://www.ejumpcut.org/archive/jc49.2007/Szeto/images/33.jpg
Phineas and his men, in happier times.

"I'm sure you have some questions. My informant thinks Phineas has eight thugs with him. We don't think they're well armed, knives and clubs mostly. The satchel is eelskin, with the initials "P.S." embossed on it. He was spotted carrying it when he went inside, he thinks it will give him leverage if he's captured, so he probably keeps it near him. Can't be certain, though." The contact slides a scrap of paper with the location of the hideout on it. "And, most importantly, your pay. [6 COIN] for the satchel and its contents. If you can pilfer anything else from there, it's all yours. Just get that satchel. Return here when it is done. Dawn is in 10 hours, you need to be out of there before the Bluecoats come."

The note you received says, "D- I need your help. Keep it quiet. Keep them honest. Meet me. -D. Despite his hood and his unshaven face, you recognize Darmot. However, despite your history, he doesn't acknowledge you in any special way when you arrive.

[n0ble]

"Well then."

To put it simply, the place was no Bowmore Manner. For one thing there was rarely a layer of soot on the Manner's perimeter. For another there were (typically) substantially less drunken wastes of potential lounging about the interior. Willix then picked his way through the patrons of the public house, trying not to let his gorge rise at the various smells and sensations. He would of thought that working with dirt and plants would have prepared someone for the commoner stink. Evidently he’d need to create some or sort of mini receptacle containing his favorite flower petals. Something with which to expunge the scent of lower orders from his nostrils. He made a note to avoid these kinds of places in the future unless absolutely necessary, and then he ordered a pint of Blue Mushroom cider. It was the most appetizing-sounding thing they had on the…well calling the chalkboard above the bottles a menu was generous but the cider didn’t taste like it contained a disease. Willix thanked the Emperor for the small miracle then went into the back.

He’d mostly chosen clothing with an eye towards practicality first and style second. Or maybe even third, behind functionality in second. As such, Willix had swathed himself in a brown-black goat leathers-jacket, black slacks and a white work-shirt. The only other real concession to this particular environment was a modest working class cap (https://gambleandgunn.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Gamble-and-Gunn_0005_Brown-herringbone-2-300x300.png). It had helped in smoothing his greasy hair down. As he clattered through the door to the backroom, Willix noticed that his shirt hadn’t made the trip over unscathed: the Blue Mushroom cider had had its revenge on his shirt collar. He sighed, more to himself than anyone else. That particular shade of blue would be hard to get out. Almost as hard as the blood from his time with the rose. So much for making a good first impression. Though, he had to admit, perhaps it would help make him seem more genuine. Maybe he’d feel a bit better with some of the cider in him and not on him? Willix immediately doubted it. Drinking some of the cobalt blue liquid was sure to give him the runs. He’d hold onto it then, if only just for show.

After situating himself in the comfiest looking chair, Willix oriented his gaze so that it looked slightly past the man who’d brought them together. He listened intently, noting any significant details pertaining to payoff from the job. And danger, though he didn’t need to get involved with a raid on the Blood Walkers to know about that. Living in Duskwall was enough. Inky Depths, living in Six Towers was enough to know about danger. He felt a pang of nausea when the man mentioned eight individuals. That was a rather large sum of bodies in the way. He recalculated the blast radius of his grenade and the nausea subsided a touch. He then placed all Eight before him in the Ordering within the blast radius of the grenade and his nausea vanished as imaginary shrapnel took off the Second’s jawbone. Willix blinked slowly and ended the fantasy. Detonating this Phineas Sharp mongoloid and his shabby examples of humanity had suddenly struck him as worth doing, if only for the extra research funding. Willix helped himself to the fungal beer, finding it’s scent much more appealing than that of the Blue Mushroom. He considered mixing the two in order to synthezise a better taste, but ultimately banished the thought as it wasn’t terribly worth the energy he was going to put into the act.

Willix turned his mind away from drink and to the matter of acquiring sensitive material. Typically, the Severosi Planes Cat utilized a hide that changed pigments in order to hide from prey until it was close enough to strike. Not that such a stratagem had saved it from extinction, mind you, but Willix thought it appropriate given the circumstances. “Where is the lair? I would propose we enter via infiltration until we are discovered.” At which point some of the seated individuals more inclined to violence could take over.


Advocating for Stealth as the plan detail. Though I could also see Transport being fun as well.

[3SecondCultist]

Striding into the public house, Jack Scrimshaw makes quite the sight. The solicitor is clad in a neat, well-tailored grey longcoat over an ironed white shirt and vest, as well as pants of the same material. His shoes are polished and well-kept, even if they are not entirely untouched by Duskwall's grime. He wears a pair of black leather gloves on his hands, and keeps a steel pocket watch at his waist. He also carries a smooth cane of what appears to be black wood, with a carved handle. All accoutrements of his trade, elegant without being too ostentatious. Even his white hair and beard are uniformly clipped and trimmed, styled but not overly so. Stopping in the midst of the room, Jack does his best to use the cane to navigate. It taps the pub's floors, the edges of tables, and the boots of those standing nearby as he fumbles towards the back of the room. Along the way, he makes sure to apologize profusely to those he might bump into.

"My apologies," Jack speaks at last to those assembled as he finally his way into the right booth. He flashes his white teeth as he holds his hand out for somebody - anybody - to shake it, and stares into the middle distance. Anyone looking can see that the man's eyes are a pure white, without any sort of pupil or iris. Unlike other blind men, there is absolutely no color there: it is the mark of one from Tycheros. A Stranger. If that weren't obvious enough, the man's accent is not one native to Akoros. Jack speaks with a light musicality, and an affectation that is hard to place exactly. "One might think that with the sun burned out, one has less need to see. But such is not the case. Allow me to introduce myself: my name is Jack Scrimshaw, of Rackham and Carrolby. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Listening to this contact outline the job ahead of them, Jack slowly nods his head. A faint twitching of his lips is the only change in his expression this time, but he allows the others to witness a sense anticipation at the prospect of the job.

"You speak wisely, friend," the slide says to the other man who has spoken up. "It sounds like Mr. Sharp will be preparing for a fight, if he has not done so already. If we can find a way to slip inside undetected, it will make retrieval of the package that much simpler. Between Mr. Sharp and his eight comrades, we might find that sneaking in and out without being detected... challenging. That said, I trust that our mutual friend here would not have brought together a motley crew such as ourselves together if he did not trust that we had the matter squarely in hand."

"Sir," Jack suddenly turns back to the man who planned the job, the gaze of his white eyes now unmistakably and improbably precise for somebody who is apparently without sight. "Would you perchance be able to provide us with any more details as to this secret lair that the Blood Walkers are hiding out in? You strike me as the man who likes to be well-informed, and any intelligence we can gather here will increase our odds of success commensurately."

[Elbeyon]

A cold, biting gust enters through the door alongside the tall Locke. A greatcoat and similar warm gear wraps up most of her skin except a small part of her face not covered by a scarf or hat and hood. Unceremoniously, she searches out her private booth and heads straight there. The clothes leave her seemingly unencumbered, and her walk is straightforward and efficient. If people are that interested in her business, she'll show them what happens to the curious sort in Duskwall. She takes a seat when the host gives her a knowing nod. The drink is appreciated. She pulls down her scarf, the tail end of some nautical beast is tattooed on her face, and takes a thirsty gulp.

During introductions she calls herself "Locke." She doesn't seem interested in shaking Mr. Scrimshaw's hand or much for conversation.

When the job is laid out, she gives the job a good thinking. "When your hunting beast or animal, if you corner them, they fight. Creatures don't like to be cornered. Give them a way out, and they'll take it. We offer them a boat ride and a way out, pack up their stuff, and leave them to their unlucky fate."

I'd like to do a deception plan.

[Ramsus]

Kione comes in a bit late, having never been to this particular establishment before and thus having to spend the time finding it in addition to the journey to get there.
If she feels the cold, she doesn't seem to notice it. Though she is wearing a warm enough looking outfit. You might think someone wearing an outfit made of so much black would be hard to see or at least blend into the shadows and shadowy figures of Duskovol, but the style and presence of the wearer stand out, at least a bit, all the same. As she walks in she makes no effort to avoid others, simply gently but firmly pushing them aside with confidence they don't want to make an issue of it. While she notices the annoyed glances and leers she gets, she doesn't seem to care. She might normally be amused or take the time to glare someone down, but she's here for business so she just ignores them. She does as well notice with some pleasure that more than a few cautious sorts of people seem to read her right and avoid eye contact.

At Jack's introduction she shakes his hand with a strong and firm handshake. Probably a bit too hard of a grip as if she's used to handshakes being a sort of contest as much as a greeting. Though she doesn't do it strong enough to be the kind of grip that's bordering on a pain endurance test. As she shakes his hand, she gives Jack a toothy, somewhat predatory, grin and replies with the noticeable accent of one from the Dagger Islands*, "Pleasure ta meet ya Jack. For now, call me Pepper."
*Which I'm imagining sounding kind of like an Australian accent. (Since I don't know what a tropical accent would sound like without a spanish influence. And it's a fun accent.)

Rather than pile on more questions, Kione just looks at the address on the scrap of paper. Her immediate thoughts going to what kind of water access and vantage points are available there.

After Locke speaks she says, "I don't think we have enough room in a boat for all them an' us on the boat, yah? Besides the Bluecoats'd just keep lookin for them if we absconded with them don't ya think? Better leave em there. As bodies should be fine if it comes to it. No skin off my nose if we gotta."
There's a definite look in her eyes as if she hopes there's an excuse to shoot some of them in fact. "Goin' in and out quick and quiet like seems best to me."


Also voting for Stealth plan. Maybe a detail about some advantageous position for steathy water entry or a good sniping vantage?

[dojango]

https://i.imgur.com/rTuskpO.jpg

The Contact says, "I haven't seen the hideout myself. Never been to that part of Silkshore; it's not the interesting part. It's just a boathouse with a warehouse attached. That part of the Silkshore has a bunch of them in a row. Don't know anything about what's inside of it. Could be a boat there, or maybe not? I don't know." When he hears Locke talking about offering them passage, he gets agitated. "You do know why they're called the Blood Walkers? Phineas always boasted that wherever he walks, he leaves a trail of blood behind him. He made a big power play, started breaking all the rules, killing civilians. We... they... told the other gangs they got to take care of it or else. Bunch of them raided the Walker's headquarters. Dozens killed. Bluecoats swept in after and arrested the survivors. Phineas was in the thick of it but he and some others escaped somehow. We tracked him to that warehouse. He probably thinks he's safe, but he ain't. Bluecoats are going to raid at dawn, and if he isn't there, they'll be spitting mad. He ain't much for surrendering or talking. If you do get him to surrender to you or something, fine. I need that satchel. But once you got it, tell me where he ends up, so we can be sure he gets what's coming to him."

When he says 'boathouse', you picture it in your mind's eye: A long structure, big doors onto the street so cargo can be brought in and out the front. Probably a normal door as well. On the water side there's a big sliding door that is opened from the inside. Has to be pulled up, since there isn't room for it to go to the side, and they can't swing out because of the water pressure. Doesn't go all the way down since they have to let water in and out, but swimming underneath would be tricky. But possible for a lightly encumbered scoundrel. There are probably windows or skylights to let light and fresh air in, but you can't be sure where without actually visiting.

[3SecondCultist]

Jack situates himself directly across the booth from the woman from the Dagger Isles as she sits. For what reason exactly, it is hard to say - perhaps he enjoys the sound of her accent, or he detests her breath - but his features aren't telling. Either way, he almost misses the contact describe the last warehouse of the Blood Walkers in detail, so he endeavors to make as little noise as possible. The description is evocative enough, and the others see the bearded man stroking his beard in the very picture of rational thought.

"Well then, it seems as though there is more than one avenue available to us. The first is stealth and skullduggery of the lowest order: sneaking in, either through a marine entrance or through the use of a distraction to get inside, steal the satchel, and get out. If any of you have a water craft that might be requisitioned for a quick getaway, it would be of great use." Jack purses his lips. "I suppose I could try to have a word with these gentlemen, if only to serve to delay their attentions..."

"The other option - and I must say that I mislike it, for it is about as unsubtle as a Bluecoat patrol - would be to go in guns blazing, as it were. Actually killing the Blood Walkers might be more trouble than it is worth, especially with the Spirit Wardens watching so closely for ghosts. I don't doubt that you can all handle yourselves in a fight, and yet it would be more prudent to be invisible. I therefore maintain that sneaking in and out would be our best bet." He looks around at the other people sitting at the table, as though to gauge their reactions.

I don't know if we can combine plans, but as n0ble said, Stealth / Transport is probably the best. I would lean more towards Stealth on the way in and Transport on the way out, if that's possible. If not, I'll go for the former (since it's more important for setting up the Engagement Roll).

[Elbeyon]

Locke keeps a healthily drinking interest in her beer and offers a clarification. "I never said anything about taking the Bloods anywhere. We load and shove off without them or as few of them as possible."

"I'm not too interested in repeating the Blood Walker's mistakes. The dead hold grudges and talk, some of them. The last thing I want is the Bluecoats and Spirit Wardens after me."

"We can sneak in, knock a couple out if needed, grab things, and leave. It's simple, and simple works. If Jack wants to play the part of chum, that's fine by me. Just don't cause us too much trouble by raising their willies."

It looks like we've settled on Stealth.

I don't think we have to call a plan a transport plan just because it involves a vehicle. The heart of our plan is to "trespass unseen."

The point of infiltration: I like the idea of using the roof. It seems like it gives us the most options on how to execute the theft.

[Ramsus]

Pepper considers for a moment and asks, "Do ya figure they've got a boat in there? It would be pretty slick if we could load up all their treasure while there and just sail away with it. Even if they noticed at that point, what are they going to do? Try and chase us downriver on foot?"


Roof sounds great. Even if just for infiltration. It's also a good vantage point for Pepper in case shooting is a thing that needs to occur.
I do also like the idea of leaving via the water entrance, since it seems like it would be hard to carry valuables all the way back up to the roof. Though I suppose that depends how heavy they are.

If for some reason we needed a distraction on the inside we could have Salt slip in and drag some goon down into the water, but I'm not sure exactly how that would benefit us since it seems like attention on the wrong side of the building than we'd want.

[Elbeyon]

The women starts chugging her mush brew. Her chin higher up, the tattoo on her face and neck is definitely a shark. Upon finishing, she says, "Why don't we go find out?"

So, we need a gather information? A Survey seems like the obvious answer to scout out the place.

There are lots of other ways we could get additional information besides just the entry point. I might want to do an attune gather information check.

Reminder! Assist is really nice! It's 1 stress to add another dice to another person's roll while it's 2 stress to help yourself. If no one wants to assist the survey, Locke will help.

[n0ble]

Willix kept the same far away look of boredom on his face as the Lowborns talked. At the same time, he tried to ignore the stigmata on the man’s eyes. There had always been some debate amongst the upper class about the origin of the term “Stranger“. The Second had always thought it was because you could never really know them. Eight said it was because you the nation was Stranger to Duskwall. Willix had always thought it was a term of comparison. Stranger than everyone else. Except maybe the bronzed woman. Was that a Dagger Islander accent she was sporting? It seemed this Phineas-moron had a boathouse. A swarthy gun-woman was a logical fit. “Hrm.” Willix rolled his head in a wide circle till he was staring at the ceiling. His fingers remained steepled on the table.

He took a moment to wonder. At a table with a Stranger and a Dagger Islander. Willix tried to remember if the Help at the Bowmore estate consisted or either nationality and found that he couldn’t. Perhaps he’d spent too much time away, if such a thing were possible. Still, it was better than having to share breathing space with a Skov. Dagger Islanders and Tycherosi had the sense to bathe. At least it seemed these two did. Willix had yet to meet a Skov that didn’t smell like eel vomit. No wonder they lost the war. How can they be expected to fight when the common Sovlander can’t even bathe themselves properly. Bloody wonder the war went on as long as it did, all things considered. He was thankful for none present, and had to remind himself of the advantages that came with working in an organization.

“Hm. Yes. Attacking from a height makes sense. Take the top roof, work our way down etcetera, etcetera.” It was much like the reverse of a food chain, really. He upended the contents of the blue mushroom cider into his other stein and took a drink from it that was at odds with his sinewy frame. Willix finished off the pint-mix with a smack of his lips. A bit too acidic for his tastes, but it had merit. Willix returned to looking slightly past the contact. “Mm. Yes shall we?”


Rooftop infiltration plan is good with me!

[spinningdice]

Lon sits quietly listening, the dirty little urchin acts more like part of the furniture than part of the team, 'he' nods at the contact to acknowledge the details and listens to the others' plan.


A bit late to the party, so not sure what to add at the this point, stealth seems good, rooftops seem good. If Jack persists in wanting to talk as a distraction Lila will voice an opinion that it's better they don't see our faces, if we can help it.

[3SecondCultist]

Jack’s smile has only grown as the accord between the group members becomes more evident. Starting and finishing his mushroom ale in a single movement with no motion wasted, the man with the white hair daps his lips with the nearest napkin.

"Well then, it would seem as though we have an accord! Excellent. I have a friend who might well have... shall we say pertinent information on the Blood Walkers beyond what our esteemed client here has deigned to share." Inclining his head towards the contact, Jack rises from the booth. "Once I get in touch with them, I will call on all of you so that we may finalize preparations. They should be able to give me an optimal time to strike the warehouse, at the very least."

[dojango]

https://cdn0.rubylane.com/shops/antiqueinvestments/4189.1L.jpg

It's a little bit after midnight. The crew (minus Jack) arrives first, and carefully scouts out the area. This part of Silkshore is out of the red-light district, although you passed through it on the way here. The street is fairly broad, with two electroplasm lights weakly dispelling the gloom. On one side of the street area there are a few rickety tenements, while on the other, there are four boathouses crammed together, with your target being the second one on the left. You see two guards leaning against the main door, passing a bottle back and forth. One of the guards has his arm in a sling. A little while later, Jack arrives, with the prostitute Nyryx on his arm. She says she will wait a few minutes and then distract the guards.

The crew slips into a dark alleyway. On one side is the boathouse, on the other a tiny canal. There is a small stair leading up to a second floor balcony, from there is it a quick scramble up to the roof. You cross the roof of the first boathouse, over to the second. As you expected, there is a sky light there, to let in fresh air and the meager light of day. It's opened from the inside, but a quick wire through the window frame lets you unlatch it and open it up. The burglary kit contains a "thieves' lantern", which you light and carefully shine into the darkness. It appears to be some sort of attic storeroom, filled with spars, barrels, piled sailcloth and other boat-supplies. You also see a ladder in the corner, leading down to the main floor. The attic only goes about halfway down the building; there is a railing and on the other side, empty space. There is a block & tackle arrangement hanging from the ceiling, and below you, you see a slipway with a boat on it. So far, you haven't heard any sounds, except the soft slap of water against a wooden hull.

[Elbeyon]

Locke is at the site as expected. She didn't get cold feet at the last minute, so that's something. She takes her gloves off and breathes on her hands in an attempt to warm them. Her hands rub together. Tonight seems usually cold. The draft off the pitch black water is certainly aiding this morning's weather. The gulf water tempts her to remember warmer different times, but she fights the urge to lose herself in thought. As the crew meets up she puts her gloves back on in preparation of the score.

Jack seems to know some interesting people. The unsaid dialogue between Jack and Nyryx is the most gripping thing about the duo. A lady of the night isn't a bad addition to the crew. She might have some of that warmth the crew seems to be missing, at least Pepper seemed to have some spirit in her. So, the sex worker is playing distraction, eh? A risky job. It's too late to discuss her "payment" here and now. That's how somebody ends up dead. It's an issue she can deal with later.

When things start, Locke takes up the rear. She keeps an eye out as the group goes up the stairs, the sea barely catching her eye now. A quick step over to the second boathouse means they are on top of their target. Wick is picking the lock? Things go smoothly. Her faith in the puffer was as low as it could go, but she is pleasantly surprised. He might have his uses after all. She follows the group through the skylight and starts getting the most basic grasp on the situation.

A little bit of fluff.

[3SecondCultist]

After saying goodbye to Nyryx with a blown kiss, Jack Scrimshaw disappears into the darkness. The distinct figure that he casts - the long coat, the white hair and beard, the cane - is gone entirely. The man who takes his place is not quite as tall, with a slimmer build. He wears dark cloth and leathers, a mixture of greys and dark blues meant to blend into the Silkshore night streets. Where there were boots, now he wears padded foot-soles for quiet movement. A black leather scabbard is strapped across his back and chest, and a cloth mask covers the majority of his head, leaving only his jawline uncovered. Strangest of all, this stranger lacks a beard entirely, eschewing white hair in favor of a bit of dark stubble.

"Hey, Coil reporting in," the newcomer says in a flawless lowborn Akorosi accent to the assembled group of scoundrels as he takes his place among their number. "We gonna do this thing, or what?"

The skylight entrance on the roof is exactly where the contact said it would be. With the light from the thieves' lantern, getting around is easy enough. Creeping down into the boathouse, Coil peers over and down at the boat. Pointing out the vehicle silently to the others, he moves along the railing with next to no noise. Tossing the rope down to the lower level, the man in grey begins to shimmy down with expert precision, keeping an eye out for any sign of unwanted attention. Alighting on the floor of the boathouse, he moves to cover the others as they follow him, pointing sharply at Wick's hand placement when the highborn nearly loses his grip and falls. Coil shakes his head slightly before moving on.

Once everyone else is down, Coil moves towards the boat, untying most of the lines that keep the vessel in place as per the agreed plan. Next up is the wooden blocks, but he doesn’t have any good tools to get rid of those without making at least some noise. The others can keep a look out for guards and start to look for the satchel.

So I'm going to cross off the 'Fine Disguise Kit' and 'A Blade or Two' from Jack's Load, to turn into Coil. I'm using this because it's a very thorough transformation, and I need to justify it somehow. Hopefully when I pick up the Cloak and Dagger ability I won't need to use it every time, but this makes for a fun little scene.

Also, I'll note the 1 Stress from the group Prowl on Jack's sheet in the OOC.

[Elbeyon]

The disguise. The accent. Coil has the skills of a con man and thief. She better keep an eye on him to make sure he isn't left alone with something that belongs to her. He was too well prepared in too short notice for his ensemble to be chance. Oh, he was beyond the abilities of a common, thug-brained mugger. The Coil in front of her was a better man than the boot licker she met earlier. She'll have to see what he can do.

Up in the attic, the temptation to crack open the treasure trove of barrels was there for sure, but lady luck hasn't smiled upon her yet. She had other things to do. She checks out the boat below and agrees that they should steal it in a quick, quiet discussion. The railing isn't too dissimilar from walking a ship's mast. The sounds of the water upon the boat below brought back little fragmented memories of her work upon a boat without any context. The labor burned into her to be remembered in times of need. She takes the rope down.

Coil was already untying the boat. She'd give any crew heading their way pointed corrections, tell them what to do. Even work with them if they don't seem completely lost around a boat.

If the boat has a clock, Locke will be there to help the team. I'll put my stress on the line for this one!

[Ramsus]

Pepper elects to take the rearguard, making sure to close the skylight behind them. But not lock it.
As Locke passes she whispers, "Wasn't his voice different before?"

After they slink onto the boat, she goes around double checking everything Coil does since she knows she knows boats and deeply distrusts the amount of nautical knowledge any of these imperials might have. If Coil happens to notice she's doing this she gives him a smile. It's super patronizing though.

[n0ble]

He’d not thought that someone of Mr. Scrimshaw’s apparent character would have associated with whores. Then again, he supposed it was little different from Willix’s pursuit of serving girls. Or with such a penchant for theatricalities. As Wilix worked the wire in, his mind went back to a particularly statuesque Iruvian waitress at the Golden Plumb. She’d had nice legs. Soft hands as well. “Mm.” Thoughts of past memories put a content smile on Wick’s face as the wire snagged and the window came open for them.

It was gone by the time he entered the attic area. All the cast-off barrels and sails looked like useful little eyesores if they needed to fix things. But the place had a smell about it that he disliked. Something would have to be done about any of it that lingered. He honestly was even sure if being on a boat would agree with him more, but that was scant disadvantage compared to what a nautical transport offered as a lair. For one, it was a means of escape in and of itself.

Willix got closer to the ladder, then noticed that Scrimshaw’s dramatic alias was taking everyone over the railing, so he followed suit. After near slipping on the way, Wick rolled his eyes at the man’s shaking head, then held up the lantern with the hand not on the rope. Perhaps someone else could hold it next time. Willix slithered down the rope nonetheless and unbuttoned his eel-skin jacket. Easier to reach alchemies that way.

Once on the floor he made his way over to the slipway. Everyone else seemed more concerned with the ship itself, not the thing they were trying to get it away from. Willix sighed to himself and approached the slipway. He let his gloved hands flex, then relax before they went into his jacket to retrieve some tinkering tools essential to the task. A gift, from the First. He tried not to get too close or under the vessel. He needed his hands for more than just alchemy, after all. Wick sighed again as the water's salt-smell hit his nose, then got to work with some help from Locke.


I'm going to try and Tinker with the slipway in an effort to set up someone's attempt at releasing the boat. Marking off fine tinkering too

Tinker: [roll0]
Edit: Whew!
Locks got the assist for that 3rd dice (and one stress to her)


Playbook: [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]

Insight: [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
Hunt: 0/4
Study: 2/4
Survey: 0/4
Tinker: 2/4

Prowess: [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
Finesse: 1/4
Prowl: 0/4
Skirmish: 0/4
Wreck: 2/4

Resolve: [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
Attune: 0/4
Command: 0/4
Consort: 1/4
Sway: 0/4

Coin: 0/4
Lifestyle: 0/4
Stash: 0/10



Vitals

Load: Medium (2/5)

Stress: [✖] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
Trauma: [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
Harm
[Lvl. 3]
[Lvl. 2] [Lvl. 2]
[Lvl. 1] [Lvl. 1]
Healing: 0/4
Armor: Armor [ ] Heavy [ ] Special [ ]



Items
Fine Tinkering Tools [✖]
Fine Wrecking Tools [ ]-[ ]
Blowgun Dart & Syringes [ ]
Bandolier [ ] ( [ ]-[ ]-[ ] )
- Alcahest

- Binding Oil
- Bloodthorn
- Drift Oil

- Drown Powder
- Eyeblind Poison
- Fire Oil

- Grenade
- Quicksilver
- Skullfire Poison
- Smoke Bomb
- Spark (drug)
- Standstill Poison
- Trance Powder
Bandolier [ ] ( [ ]-[ ]-[ ] )
- Alcahest

- Binding Oil
- Bloodthorn
- Drift Oil
- Drown Powder
- Eyeblind Poison
- Fire Oil

- Grenade
- Quicksilver
- Skullfire Poison
- Smoke Bomb
- Spark (drug)
- Standstill Poison
- Trance Powder
Gadgets [ ] [ ] [ ]
Load: Light 3 [ ] Normal 5 [ ] Heavy 6 [ ]
A Blade or Two [ ]
Throwing Knives [ ]
A Pistol [ ] A 2nd Pistol [ ]
A Large Weapon [ ]-[ ]
An Unusual Weapon [ ]
Armor [ ]-[ ] +Heavy [ ]-[ ]-[ ]
Burglary Gear [✖]
Climbing Gear [ ]-[ ]
Arcane Implements [ ]
Documents [ ]
Subterfuge Supplies [ ]
Demolition Tools [ ]-[ ]
Tinkering Tools [ ]
Lantern [ ]

[Elbeyon]

Pepper elects to take the rearguard, making sure to close the skylight behind them. But not lock it.
As Locke passes she whispers, "Wasn't his voice different before?"

Her shrugs before the final step down. The black morning makes the action nearing unnoticeable. Locke whispers, "It's an improvement. I don't want to punch him in the face as much." A half smile reflecting some whites shows she is happy with herself.

[spinningdice]

Lon simply admires Jack's skill at changing, sure she switched between Lon and Delilah, but they were both just shades of the same person.

Jack and Coil were unrecognisable as the same person. Perhaps she could learn something from him.

Anyway, time to go. Lon slips down the rope and moves to help untie the rope, she knew little of boats and ships, but she could untie knots well enough.

[Ramsus]

Locke whispers, "It's an improvement. I don't want to punch him in the face as much." A half smile reflecting some whites shows she is happy with herself.

At this Pepper has to clamp a hand over her mouth from laughing aloud.

Since it seems the others have a good handle on the boat, Pepper goes to check the cabin and cargo hold to see if anything or anyone occupies them. Afterall, it wouldn't do to pile in more treasure than they could sail away with nor any of the original crew that might not appreciate them taking off in their boat.
Not that in her experience she's ever found anyone to appreciate her crew taking their belongings. Except that one time. But she doesn't like to dwell too much on that.

[dojango]

Wick and Locke go over the boat, quickly casting off the lines holding the boat. The last line, the big hawser connected to the capstan, is now the only thing holding the ship from sliding down the slipway and into the closed door. Wick checks over the boat; oiling hinges and the checking lines. The boat's cabin is small and cozy; there is the ship's wheel and small couch on top, and then belowdecks there are a few hammocks slung from hooks. Fortunately, they are unoccupied. The boat doesn't seem to have been used in some time, some of the controls are covered in dust. Locke checks the sails and the rigging, tightening slack ropes and making sure the sail is ready to be raised. Finally, Wick turns his attention to the door controls. Normally, someone would pull down on the rope attached to the pulley, raising the door up, and then make the rope fast to a hoop anchored in the floor. Of course, in the Bowmore boathouses, all this is handled by electroplasmic energy, instead of crude muscle power, but with the right tools and parts lying around, perhaps something can be done to raise the door without someone staying off the boat...

[Ramsus]

Satisfied that the boat is free of threats and unsatisfied that it's also free of valuables, Pepper almost hastily decides to go look for the missing goods herself. But remembers that her role here is more of a lookout. Or at least that's what she told the others so things might get fouled up if she doesn't perform her role.

So she sneaks away from the boat and slowly and carefully moves about to search out where the members of the Blood Walkers are and what they're up to. Figuring out any patrol routes would be a bonus, but it's probably too dark to get that much detail. As is her habit, she makes her way to high spots when available and otherwise tries to have some kind of cover to hide behind in case someone comes out from around a corner and might be facing her way.

While she's sneaking about she recalls a few times she did similar things about vessels, though she was usually looking for their crew to kill or capture, not avoid like she is now. She's not sure how she feels about that. Just that bloodlust or no, she doesn't know of the rest of her crew's fighting skills so it's not a very good idea to risk it right now. Not that she isn't betting on there being a fifty/fifty chance this winds up turning into a red waters situation anyway.


So Survey mainly. Prowl and Hunt might apply too, but all are at 2 so... *shrug*
[roll0]

[n0ble]

The work had gone well, all things considered. It had afforded him a few moments to search for some sort of device to open the door. “Hrm.” Well…it was no Bowmore pleasure cruiser. Perhaps it could be with a bed or two. Wick scratched at his chin while thinking on how to rig the door to open. He blinked slowly behind his glasses, realized he was staring into a foreground that Locke had walked into, then turned his face to the door. There were more important things to look at then neck tattoos presently. For example: the harbor door controls.

In the end, it came down to a simple matter of rigging the door controls so that the corresponding lever was pulled when the boat dropped. Surprisingly simple. And practical to boot. With some assistance from Locke they were able to get the block and tackle down in good order. From there it was an easy matter to have Locke tie the knots at precisely where Willix pointed. He made sure she was using ones that would slip away when pulled enough before giving her a thumbs up to singal they were finished.

[dojango]

https://i.imgur.com/RDISjeG.jpg

Pepper climbs out of the boat and heads back into the warehouse. She can see that part of the warehouse has been walled off, to make a small room. She can't really see where the door is, but there must be one. Also, there is a small stove, glowing red. It provides some faint light. Nearby the stove, she can see several dark lumps on the floor. She hears soft breathing and the occasional snore coming from there. As she gets closer there is a faint sound of a clink her foot hits an empty bottle on the floor. It rolls for a few feet. The snoring stops for a moment and then starts again. Looking for a quick hiding place, Pepper can see some dark piles closer to the warehouse door. She steals behind them. There are two rows of crates, stacked two high. As she makes her way to the far end, to her surprise, she can see a figure slumped over in a chair in the corner. It is hard to make out details in the dark, but the figure is breathing slightly, and it appears to be tied up and blindfolded and gagged.

[3SecondCultist]

Stepping quietly behind Pepper, Coil keeps an eye out for the Blood Walkers. He leaves the nautical technicians to take over the matter of the doors, and his eyes scan the half-dark in search of anyone hanging about. "Nyryx should be distracting the others outside," he says to Locke in a quiet murmur. "I wouldn't be surprised if we're alone in here."

Moving forward, the grey-swathed man pauses when he sees the bound and gagged man. A hand comes up to stop the Islander in her tracks. Tilting his head slightly, Coil immediately tenses, his hand stealing to the hilt of the blade over his shoulder. Not drawing it yet, he steals forward towards the office, like a shadow loosed from a bow. As he does, he pauses mid-stride, recognizing Nyryx's laughter from the office.

The spy appears to exhale. Then he tries for the door.

Assuming that he can spot the office from the area 8/9, let's got for a Prowl for Coil to try to get up to the office doors, taking the Devil's Bargain to have Nyryx in the office.

Prowl: [roll0]

[dojango]

As Coil turns the handle and pushes the door open, it squeaks slightly. But he has it open enough to squeeze in. Inside the office, he sees a desk, a few bookcases, and a chair. On the desk are a few bottles, a burning oil lamp, a pistol... and the satchel. But there, in the corner, he also sees a cot. Nyryx and a man are sitting on it. He is facing away from Coil. Nyryx's eyes widen as the door opens, and then she pulls the man in for a long kiss...

What's that noise? 4/6

[3SecondCultist]

A small cough echoes through the office space. With a hungry rasp, the sword is already out of its sheath, and pointed squarely at the man sitting on the cot. "Don't make any sudden moves. I don't wanna gut you, make for a bit of a mess, being honest. Now, Mr. Sharp, stand up. You and I are gonna go for a walk."

Earlier

"Now my dear, you must remember to time the opening correctly. Once you have earned the affections of Mr. Sharp, you must keep him occupied. The satchel I have supplied you with should be close enough in size and make to the object of our being here tonight for it to serve in a pinch." Jack presses the package into the prostitute's hands with a kindly smile as they turn onto the street near the edge of Silkshore. Looking ahead, he spots the edge of the warehouse.

"When your moment comes, you ought to take it. Remember, you are simply a street-walker out to make some money. In a threatening situation, somebody of your stature and station would be well within their rights to flee. I highly doubt that anyone will attempt to detain you."

I'm going to take a Flashback to come up with this plan and have Nyryx bring along a fake satchel (it doesn't have to be an exact match, but something close enough). I'm not sure what the Stress for this is, but he'll take it. Then, he's going to get Sharp's attention to give Nyryx a chance to make the swap. I'm (hopefully) using Sway for this roll, trying to act confident and smarmy enough to maybe even get Sharp to attack.

Sway: [roll0]

[dojango]

Several hours earlier...
"I like you, Jack. You're fun to be around. But if you want me to play your games, you're going to have to get me a present." Nyryx thinks for a moment, and then grins, "I know just the thing I want. I'll let you know later, if you're still alive."


As Coil's sword leaves the sheath, and he orders Sharp, the man is already rolling towards the desk. "Sodding hell!" he shouts. He grabs the pistol off the desk. Nyryx is surprised by his sudden move, and freezes up. Staring at Sharp's twitching gun. From outside, everyone can hear stirring men. "What was that?" one of them asks. "What's up, boss?"

[3SecondCultist]

Seeing the situation devolve quickly, Coil does his best to recover from his gaffe. Dropping the steel just as quickly as he sheathed it, he breaks out into a set of rough laughter. "Ah, I’m just messing with you boss! Sorry, the boys paid me good money to see if I had the balls to pull that one off. Name’s Ranker, I’m the new guy."

Taking the Devil’s Bargain offered in the Discord to wake up the rest of the guards in exchange for an extra dice on a Desperate Sway roll. I’ll mark the XP on my character sheet.

Sway: [roll0]

[dojango]

Sharp chuckles as Coil puts down his sword. The pistol doesn't move away from Coil's face. "New guy, huh? Don't recall giving you a job interview. Memory must be slipping, what with most of the other lads bein' run off and all. Girl, get outta here. This is about to get messy." Nyryx quickly flees, leaving behind both the fake satchel and the real one.
Some of the other gangers come to the door. "What's up, boss?"
Sharp says, "This guy says he's a new hire. Let's go ask him a few questions."
The gangers try to grab Coil, pummeling him with their fists, but he grabs his sword again and breaks out of the melee, pushing into the office, closer to Sharp, where he has more room to swing. He will not be taken without a fight...

[3SecondCultist]

Coil, moments after hearing it confirmed from the gang leader’s mouth that the jig is up, puts the point of his blade up and goes on the offensive. There is absolutely no hesitation in the scoundrel’s footwork, and his hands are steady. Nyryx has already fled, giving him an opportunity to edge out beyond the door to get a better position in the office.

The sword is ready. He will not be taken without a fight.

Well, it looks like I’m resisting this consequence, using Prowess (I assume that’s the attribute you want me to roll, dojango?). So that’s 2 dice.

Prowess: [roll0]

Edit: also meant to tick off Coil’s Armor to completely negate the consequence, so I should be at 0 Harm despite that roll.

[n0ble]

Willix pinched the bridge of his nose as sounds of conflict reached his ears. “Ugh.” Leave to the lower orders of humanity to muck everything up. Another crunching sound made the alchemist’s eye twitch involuntarily. Wick’s hand reached into his jacket. It was a shame really. He’d not had a chance to test his grenades yet and, as one of the few non-alchemical objects on his person but they were loud. Testing them on living matter would have to wait until later. Instead Willix found just what he was looking for. He nodded to Locke that they should go

The Bowmore family was not a family of Leviathan Hunters. Such labor was the purview of upstarts like the Strangfords. And yet, Willix had a bit of a passing familiarity with the substance. Really, it was the same principal as any sort of gas except air: don’t get any of it in your lungs. Still, Willix had to admit that the stuff had its uses. For one thing, unlike the grenades he wanted to test, it was silent. Another was that it caused the worst headaches Willix had ever experienced. He’d exposed a few bugs to the stuff. And one foolhardy rat that had had the good sense to wait until after it was free to wake up and escape. Still he'd yet to test the effects of rarefied leviathan blood on humans. Sharp and his lackies seemed as good a test subject as any.

Willix grit his teeth in frustration as he approached closer to the noise, though not before he flashed the glass orb containing Skullfire at Locke. “Bloody proletarians.” Maybe exposing a few more beetles to the Skullfire would make him feel better. After getting as close to the office as he deemed safe, Willix let fly with the sphere.


So. Im going to try and Tinker with Skullfire poison by throwing it at Phineas and his cronies. This will be a set up action mainly for Locke, but anyone else who wants to can capitalize on +1 effect or improved position (assuming this goes somewhat right :smallbiggrin: .)

I've crossed off one bandolier and one vial of Skullfire poison. It has the drawback "lvl. 1 harm: Sickened" I'm not sure who would need to resist it or take the consequence given that its being thrown away from Willix and closer to Coil, but regardless of whose affected I have bloodthorns/alcahest we can flashback to if need be.

Pushing to take two stress for an extra dice

Wreck/Tinker (could see both applying since it's a flashback, I'm pushing so its 3 dice regardless): [roll0]




Playbook: [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]

Insight: [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
Hunt: 0/4
Study: 2/4
Survey: 0/4
Tinker: 2/4

Prowess: [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
Finesse: 1/4
Prowl: 0/4
Skirmish: 0/4
Wreck: 2/4

Resolve: [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
Attune: 0/4
Command: 0/4
Consort: 1/4
Sway: 0/4

Coin: 0/4
Lifestyle: 0/4
Stash: 0/10



Load: Medium (2/5)

Stress: [✖] [✖] [✖] [✖] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
Trauma: [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]
Harm
[Lvl. 3]
[Lvl. 2] [Lvl. 2]
[Lvl. 1] [Lvl. 1]
Healing: 0/4
Armor: Armor [ ] Heavy [ ] Special [ ]



Medium Load 3/5
Fine Tinkering Tools [✖]
Fine Wrecking Tools [ ]-[ ]
Blowgun Dart & Syringes [ ]
Bandolier [✖] ( [✖]-[✖]-[ ] )
- Alcahest
 [✖]
- Binding Oil
- Bloodthorn
- Drift Oil

- Drown Powder
- Eyeblind Poison
- Fire Oil

- Grenade
- Quicksilver
- Skullfire Poison [✖]
- Smoke Bomb
- Spark (drug)
- Standstill Poison
- Trance Powder
Bandolier [ ] ( [ ]-[ ]-[ ] )
- Alcahest

- Binding Oil
- Bloodthorn
- Drift Oil
- Drown Powder
- Eyeblind Poison
- Fire Oil

- Grenade
- Quicksilver
- Skullfire Poison
- Smoke Bomb
- Spark (drug)
- Standstill Poison
- Trance Powder
Gadgets [ ] [ ] [ ]
Load: Light 3 [ ] Normal 5 [ ] Heavy 6 [ ]
A Blade or Two [ ]
Throwing Knives [ ]
A Pistol [ ] A 2nd Pistol [ ]
A Large Weapon [ ]-[ ]
An Unusual Weapon [ ]
Armor [ ]-[ ] +Heavy [ ]-[ ]-[ ]
Burglary Gear [✖]
Climbing Gear [ ]-[ ]
Arcane Implements [ ]
Documents [ ]
Subterfuge Supplies [ ]
Demolition Tools [ ]-[ ]
Tinkering Tools [ ]
Lantern [ ]






Earlier

Twin plums of smoke drifted out of Willix's nostrils, then he took another drag from his cigarette. The concentration was off. He'd need to add more imp's bladder. Which wasn't going to happen, because he was out and the First had cut him off. The thought soured any lingering enjoyment to be had, so he flicked the butt into the darkness that Scrimshaw had disappeared into. He heard a hand snap out and the butt's light went out. Then somebody else stepped out of the darkness.

He’d changed. Well, it didn’t even look like Scrimshaw any more. This man was smaller, of a wirier frame. Willix assessed his gait and found that this strange man with the grey mask also walked differently than Jack had: with more of a careful cat-like tread than a leisurely stroll. The only reason one could logically assume it was the same man at all is because he emerged from that same darkness.

“Hey, Coil reporting in,” he heard ‘Coil’ say. That was a new one. As the others spoke, Willix made a ‘humph’ sound and adjusted his surgical mask. He sounded bored. “Here. Regular explosives are too loud. Gonna gas them with some Skullfire instead.” Willix’s hands gave a slight spasm as he reached for the clear oil in his jacket. He ground them out by making a fist with his free hand, which he then raised up to his nose. “Under the nostrils. Best to smear it. All of it, if you can manage. It might not negate the effects completely. We have fu*k all for supplies so I had to improvise about…” The biochemist ran a meager calculation, found the result correct but to his dissatisfaction. He smiled to himself. 60% of it. “… well, most of it. “It should minimize the effects somewhat.”

“Should?” Coil managed to express all of his skepticism in a single syllable. He had turned to look at Willix now, tilting his head slightly but otherwise staying incredibly still. There was a momentary pause, before the man in the mask inclined his head in a half-nod. “Alright then, I trust you. Just give me a signal, and I’ll do whatever you need.”

In older times, an engineer would stand under a railway-bridge he’d built, with his family, as the train passed over for the first time. At least that’s what the Second said, which made it practically law. Even so, Second’s judgment not withstanding, Willix had his doubts about the veracity of such a statement. Therefore he felt no need to be near the gas. “Whatever happens, keep your mouth closed.”


Marked off 1 stress and alcahest

[Elbeyon]

A sharp sniffle of the nose, Locke rubs her upper lip, a mental tick, though there is nothing there. The last knot is tied exactly like Wick wants. What he is asking her to do seems sacrilege. She is fighting every instinct in her body. The boat is so unsecured that the weather would randomly disembark her with enough time, but she supposes an easy shove off is the point. It still felt wrong. Wick was giving her a thumbs up. It's not a gesture she's overly used to receiving. Still, he did some good work and in the interest of good communication, she returns a clinical dispassionate thumb up. She leaves the ropes to work their corrupted fate.

She hears talking? A thud. It seems like they won't be able to pull off the perfect heist after all. A shame. Things are about to get messy. Wick's frustration showed he noticed too. She returns his nod to advance and heads off toward the noise with him. Along the way she sees him dangling some Skullfire out for her to notice. Nasty stuff. Any hunter was familiar with the head splitting pain it caused. Mishandled Leviathan blood was dangerous enough to kill an entire ship out at sea. So dangerous, the fumes alone will knock a sailor off their feet for a day. She moves to hide within the cargo boxes in the middle of the floor.

The fisher seemed to have her bait out. Locke approaches Pepper from behind and grabs her attention, if needed, with her movement's noise. A container of electroplasm is offered her way. "I need an expert throw here. Time it and try to hit the same spot as Wick." She'll turn over her plasm.

[Ramsus]

Pepper nods and takes the little clay bottle with the twined stopper. Even though she can't see it, she can feel in her bones what it is. She raises an eyebrow at Locke, wondering what kind of madness she's planning. But she doesn't have time to wait for any response as Wick is already mid-throw.
She sees where his concoction is going to land based on its arc and throws the bottle after it, mentally noting that they're going to catch Coil in the area of whatever is about to happen.
The thought provokes another which is just a mental shrug. She's already thrown it and he's the one who put himself in that position so what's done (or about to be done) is done.


Assisting Locke. 1 Stress for Pepper.

[Elbeyon]

The jar out of her hand, she flips a flap of fur on her hip to reveal a structure of bone. It's shaped of something that vaguely resembles a four legged scavenger’s skull. The mask has straight horns at the top that point upward, feline ears bound by leather on the side near the horns, and a two-hundred and seventy degree arc of blood in the center of the forehead. Locke slides the spirit mask over her face and watches where the two anticipated projectiles are going to land.

Wick’s skullfire strikes the building hard enough to properly explode into a wispy cloud of blue tendrils. A scary sight to those that recognize the signature of burning devil blood. Pepper’s jar hits second to release a mess of glowing, sparky electroplasm. It starts to energetically react with the other vapor. Leviathan blood, not yet fully tamed by the arts, and the stretched and pulled pure plasm that now bathes in its former self. A spark of white lights the cloud as plasm starts coursing through the devil blood like veins.

Locke’s hair starts to stand on end. The sensation of an eel squirming down her back and out of her pants sends a shiver down her. The ghost field is always there ready for those willing to accept it into their world. Locke can feel a sinister presence. That familiar sensation creeps into her consciousnesses as she starts to remember her old companion. The blood burns alive, and Locke is there to direct its raw weight with her finger tips. The plasm is her fishers line. She pulls the gas onto her foes to overwhelm their thoughts. She pulls her strings to circuit break the men thoughtless by overwhelming them with oppressive raw nature of a titanic beast.

Locke is declaring her fine spirit mask and arcane instruments.

Locke is pushing for an extra dice.

Locke is trading position for effect.

Locke is getting an Assist for an extra dice.

Locke is being setup for a extra effect.

Attune Let's knock some people out!
[roll0]

[dojango]

Sharp shouts out to the gangers trying to subdue Coil, "Take him alive! I want to know who sent him! And search the warehouse! He may have friends..." as he says it, though, it is too late. There is the smash of glass as a vial cracks against the doorframe, a fine haze of blue spreading out from the impact. Then the flare of the ghost field. The thugs closest to the center drop almost immediately, convulsing and retching as their senses are overwhelmed. Another one of them stops and starts howling, dropping to his fours and crawling away like some strange beast. The two thugs in the office, at the edge of the cloud have a moment to look on in horror, before they too get a whiff of the strange substance. They fall to their knees, moaning and clutching their heads. One falls towards Sharp, who takes two steps back, away from the cloud. Coil, caught at the edge, has but a moment to react...

[3SecondCultist]

Just like Willix suggested earlier, Coil's hand is already rising to his nose as the effects of the poison disperse through the air. Smearing the alcahest to the desired location, he shrugs off the worst of the agent's effects even as the Blood Walkers succumb to its advances. He flinches very slightly at the appearance of the blue whisper-light, but does not break stride. Not looking back after Nyryx, the thin man advances on Sharp, sword and arm bared alike in preparation for a fight.

Grabbing the gang leader in a lock, Coil tries to force his opponent's unprotected nose and face towards the largest concentration of gas in the office. With any luck, he should be able to knock Sharp out entirely and claim the satchel. In stepping forward, the man steps deeper into the cloud, the tendrils of skullfire rising in through his own vulnerable points and resting somewhere in his skull.

So I'll be taking the Devil's Bargain to have Coil 'get a taste for' Skullfire Poison in exchange for an extra die to Skirmish here. The goal is to incapacitate Sharp enough so that Coil can take the satchel and escape, so that's a Desperate roll for Great effect.

Skirmish: [roll0]

Edit: bam, a 6!

[dojango]

There is a loud crack and a plume of smoke as Sharp fires his pistol at Coil's head. But he is already moving towards Sharp. Grabbing Sharp's extended arm in a lock, it is trivial to pull the man towards the rapidly spreading blue vapor. Sharp inhales suddenly, chokes. He falls, clawing at his head as well. There are a few moments of silence. The satchel sits invitingly on the desk. Then from outside, "Oh ****, you alright boss?"

Back in the warehouse, after the pistol shot rings out, things fall silent. Well, except for the sound of moaning, retching gangsters. And the insistent thumping coming from the corner as the man tied to the chair vainly struggles with his bonds.

[Ramsus]

Pepper winces at the gunshot and lets out a sigh. Hearing the call of the two (hopefully) remaining members of the Blood Walkers, Pepper looks around for a handy implement and finds a crowbar nearby. Which she grabs and uses to signal to Locke to follow her.
Despite her earlier sigh, Pepper is actually glad to get in some action. Her blood got pumping moments earlier and she had nowhere to outlet the bristling energy that had built up.

So Pepper takes the lead, hopefully followed closely by Locke though she's not slowing down to actually check more than for a couple brief glances back, and sneaks up around the crates. She has to move quick as well as quite though since she can hear the gang member's quick footsteps as they're not dallying around after hearing a gunshot. She rounds the crates behind one of the Blood Walkers (the one closest to the main entryway, leaving the other to Locke) and up behind him until finally she's standing in what would be his shadow if this weren't a black night inside a building in a darker still world. And then she leaps, putting effort into restraining her bloodlust and using the right amount of force to knock the man out instead of simply give him a headache or the long sleep.


Pepper is leading a Prowl Group Action with Locke.
Trading position for Effect, so position is Desperate.
Pushing for +1 Die. (+2 Stress for Pepper.)

[roll0]

Edit: So +1 Prowess XP

[Elbeyon]

The ghost field blossoms forth a mesmerizing ethereal flower. It’s wispy, glowing petals draw Locke’s eyes and she grapples with her inner self to linger on them for a second longer. Just one second more. She fights against temptation. The rest of the crew can scale the fish. The precariously positioned Coil can knock out Sharp. The other two will manage to deal with the men at the door. She can relax and let everything melt away as she holds the flower in her mind. Flowers are rare enough in Duskwall that she should enjoy the sight. That’s not a bad idea. She will do that. Regetfully, the thunderous crack of pistol fire draws her back to the gloomy city and puts a ringing in her ears.

Coil has entered into a brawl of his own. She sees Pepper running off with a crowbar toward the shouting men. Her memory flicks back to something she only barely witnessed, Pepper waving her forward. Wick’s skullfire flower must entertain her another day, and she tucks it away deeper into her memory. Locke creeps after Pepper to potentially ambush the last remnants of the Blood Walker’s gang.

She watches Pepper move further in to get a better angle on the attack. A risky move considering the gang could round the corner and glimpse them. The die is already cast though, and so, she follows through with the motions. Locke draws her blackjack and goes to strike the remaining gang member stupid. Hopefully, Pepper will get the other member under control.

Locke is follow Pepper's Group Prowl Action.
Trading position for Effect, so position is Desperate. (To match Pepper.)

[roll0]

[dojango]

The gangers rush to their fallen comrades, shocked and distracted. "Boss, you alright? What's going on?" one says, kneeling by Phineas. Wtih their attention diverted, Pepper and Locke are able to steal up to them, carefully judge the best place to strike, and then... with two thumps it is over. The man hit by the crowbar goes down hard, while Locke's blackjack sends the other into an uneasy slumber. With two gangers knocked out, and the others trapped in their own little worlds of pain, the warehouse is yours... for now.

[Elbeyon]

Locke slowly pulls back her blackjack as the weight she put into it slowly dissipates into nothingness. The thing goes to rest at her side. The spirit mask turns Pepper's way, and Locke says, "That wasn't so hard." Though it's impossible to see her face, Locke seems pleased going by her voice. She looks Coils way and calls out to him, "Coil, how things going over there?" It's not like he screamed a death curdle so he wasn't likely shot, or maybe, he was used to being shot. He was a mysterious man.

A chill goes down her spine as she realizes how badly the stunt they just pulled could have ended. An adrenaline high is still rushing through her. It felt nice. The night didn't seem so bad. Disregarding what happened to the Blood Walkers gang, it was an interesting display, or maybe what happened to them was the interesting part. They would have made piss poor sailors. They would have broke at the first leviathan sighting. She touches her hand to her mask. They need to find the satchel.

[3SecondCultist]

"All good," Coil says as he emerges from the office, satchel in hand. Aside from a bit of coughing, he seems largely unhurt. The sword is still out, and his clothing is torn in a few places to reveal the armor he's wearing underneath the outermost layer. "Sharp's down, got the package with me."

Surveying the rest of the boathouse, Coil shrugs slightly in approval. After checking to make sure none of the Blood Walkers are about to get up and stab them in the back, he strides towards the boat. He does stop near Wick on the way over. "Thanks for the assist. That’s some good stuff you've got there. You guys gonna ready with the boat?"

And then there's the matter of the last man: the bound and gagged prisoner that the Blood Walkers seemed intent on tying up. Coil walks over to him, pulling a small pouch out of one of his pockets. Coil kneels next to him, peering in his direction with cloth-covered eyes.

"Now, see this trance powder? It's nasty stuff, makes your mind very... pliable. But I don't wanna use it on you, because it looks like you're already having a bad night. If I take the gag off, are you gonna scream?"

Re-posted because I can't edit in rolls. Coil is going to try a good old fashioned Sway roll against this guy, to convince him to talk quietly. Hopefully he's not a hostile, and we can convince him to come with us. If anyone wants to make an Assist, they can take 1 Stress and roll the extra die.

Sway: [roll0]

[dojango]

The man shakes his head "no" vigorously.

[Elbeyon]

"We're all good here." Locke tries to find the satchel in his possession through the darkness. Ah, so, he did. She starts moving Blood Walkers together to capture them more easily. The idea was they were going to be here for a while longer. She checks on the one that got knocked out by Pepper to see if he's going to be alright. "Good job. Try to avoid the cobalt smoke." She gives him a senseless warning.

There is a ton of rope up in the attic. She'll head for it. She walks past Coil and climbs up the ladder near Blood Walker's prisoner.

[3SecondCultist]

"Okay then." Coil just nods at Locke as she moves to get the rope, not responding directly to her warning. Carefully making sure his gloved fingers aren't too close to the captive man's teeth, he removes the gag to let the man speak. "I'm gonna keep you bound until I'm sure you're not a threat. Who are you? Why did the Blood Walkers have you captive?"

[dojango]

"Oh man, oh man. Please, get me out of here," the man says. But quietly. "Name's Elynn. Came by the other day. We saw those guys unloading this boat, right? They came back here. So me and some lads stopped by to remind them that this here's guild turf. They pulled guns on us! The others ran, but they grabbed me. Oh man, they beat me to ****. Thought they were gonna kill me. Just get me outta here, what'd you want? Can I have a hit of that powder? It's been a long day..."

[Ramsus]

Pepper helps Locke out with the rounding up of the Blood Walkers, but while Locke is off collecting rope, Pepper thoroughly (and without a shred of modesty) checks the Blood Walkers for weapons and valuables..... and takes them.
When Locke comes back she helps move them to wherever is a good place to tie them up and helps out with that. During this process she will look to Locke and say, "So you're one of those huh? Not the kind that goes around making and helping out ghosts are ya?"

[Elbeyon]

The downed Blood Walker was breathing. That's good enough for her. He might be a tad more stupid after this whole affair, but he was already fairly stupid for pulling a last stand. She works together with Pepper to rope them up. "One of what?" She says playing dumb. She shifts her spirit mask covered face back and forth to try to show off the pale bone. "Some people call me a Whisper. Why, do you have a problem with ghosts and the sort that deal with them?" Locke pulls the rope tighter on them before she stands up to admire their handy work.

"We should check the warehouse for anything good. I haven't checked the attic yet." Locke will go looting the warehouse first.

[Ramsus]

"Yes, one of those. Sorry, I didn't know the term you Imperials use. And yah, I kind of do. A big part of my old life was killing ghosts." Pepper replies in a still friendly but also growing suspicious sounding way.
Since they're conversing, Pepper goes along with Locke. Which makes sense anyway as if there's any heavy goods it'll be a two person job anyway.

[dojango]

Locke and Pepper find some coils of rope lying around and quickly tie up the miserable Blood Walkers. Except for the two guards, dressed warmly from standing outside, they are wearing underclothes... you did wake them up in the middle of the night, after all. A few of them are sporting bandages and bruises. Their sleeping rolls and poor clothing have naught but a few coppers, some cheap knives and cudgels. Around them are scattered a dozen empty bottles and wine-jugs. Nothing worth their time, really. In the attic, there are mostly supplies for the boat. Barrels of tar, spars, rope, sailcloth, sacks of nails and other tools. While they search the office, Pepper finds Sharp's pistol. It is not nearly as fine as her pistols, but that and the bag of powder & shot might be worth a coin to someone. As they leave the office, though, Pepper does notice that Sharp isn't unconscious. His eyes close as they look at him, but he's been watching them. The only thing left to go through are the heavy crates.

[3SecondCultist]

"Elynn, eh? So you're a Docker, then." The words aren't phrased as a question. "That's a bit of bad luck, then. Listen, we don't have anything against you. I'm going to do as you say and let you out. Hell, you can have a hit of the powder to, if you're good."

As he speaks, Coil's fingers are already around the bindings, loosening and untying the knots that the Blood Walker gangers put in place before. With a flourish, Elynn is free. Coil stands at the same time, sword still out but not raised. With his free hand, he measures out a small bit of trance powder and offers some to the Docker. "Here you are. Look, we're taking the boat. You can run, or come with us: choice is yours."

[dojango]

"The Ancient and Honourable Guild of Lightermen, Longshoremen, and Stevedores," replies Elynn. "We have an official monopoly on all loading and unloading of cargo on all ocean-bound ships in the harbor. Given to us by the City Council in ancient times. You're stealing that boat? Cleaning these bastards out? Alright by me. You want some help, I owe you a bunch. I'll come with you, I know how to handle one of these things. I can do it in my sleep." He takes the proffered sniff of powder. "Ah, that's the stuff. I like you guys, man. It's like, karma came and punished these jerks for being scabs..." he grins and tries to give Lon and Coil big hug.

[Elbeyon]

Locke helps toss the place. Nothing in the warehouse or attic was a sad bust. Maybe, the crates near the loading dock had something in them. Locke asks back, "What do you call Whispers? Yeah, well, you're not in the Dagger Isles anymore. I don't know any damn ghosts for you to kill anyway. I'm not going to fight you if you go to put down a wild, dangerous beast."

Nice looking pistol. Locke notices Sharp on the way out. "Hold up." She walks back, pushes him down with her hand, and bludgeons him in the head. "There, downed twice. If he gets up again as a ghost you can kill him."

Locke points out to the crates as the next target. She was running out of places to check for valuables. "What do you think the chances are these broke fools had something stashed away for a boat ride?" Locke looks towards Coil and his guest as she neared. The two were getting really friendly. She puts away her blackjack and grabs one of the crowbars to check a crate.

[dojango]

Sharp's eyes open wide as the blackjack comes down. And then shut again. He is out for the night. Back in the warehouse, Locke pries open one of the crates. Inside is a large sack. She opens the sack, sticks in her hand and pulls out a handful of... jewelry? Some of it looks cheap, but there is a glint of silver and gold in the dim light.

Time left until the Bluecoats come: 1/8

[Ramsus]

"Lots of different things. Depends on what they did. Depth Watchers, Demon Lovers, Strangers. Like that. Many names from many islands you see?" Pepper replies.
She gives a satisfied nod at Locke's answer. And later when she gives Sharp a smack and makes her quip, she gives Locke a toothy grin.

She doesn't comment on the rhetorical question, but she does help with loading up the crates. Knowing they have valuables is good enough for now. They can check later when they're not at risk of anyone else showing up.

[Elbeyon]

"And, you said you fight ghosts?" Everyone has heard the tales of the Dagger Isles' people. Few people actually got to know the answer to that elusive question. How. How do they live without a lightening barrier. Course, Locke wasn't so keen on digging into people's pasts. That's how you make enemies, or worse, friends.

Locke raises up her mask to get a better look at what she had in her hand. Jewelry!? Wow, these poor bastards had the worst luck. She alerts Coil & Wick to the duo's findings. "The crates aren't worthless." She fully pulls her mask off and puts it back under its fur flap. Again, Pepper has the right idea of things. She seals the crate she opened and starts loading the crates up. The place had a block and tackle for them to use. Was this haul what pissed everyone off so much?

[Ramsus]

"Nah, I said I kill ghosts." Pepper replies unhelpfully with a wicked grin.

[n0ble]

Wick cricked his neck from side to side as a wide smirk took to his face. "Mm. Perhaps I should improvise more often." The gas had, all things considered, worked remarkably well. As had the alcahest. But of course they had worked. He'd made them.

It seemed Locke and Pepper were rifling through potential valuables and the man who’d been tied up was a trance powder addict. Useful. Perhaps he could introduce factors to shepherd the addiction, in order to cultivate a dependent test subject.Though having a man high on a boat was…a dangerous prospect. Especially if they had to navigate dealing with the bluecoats. Wick exhaled. They could always trade him away if need be. “Time to go, mm?“ Much as he would have to have taken a sample of fluid from one of the incapacitated Blood Walkers, Wick did not find the idea of gasing bluecoats quite as fun.

[3SecondCultist]

Coil accepts the hug awkwardly, not quite moving to accept it but not pushing Elynn off entirely. Eventually he allows himself to be embraced, returning the favor with a pat on the shoulder. "Well, I appreciate the offer. We could use a navigator for sure. Here, hop on in." Letting the dockworker take the lead, Coil waits for the others to finish collecting the goods. He makes no move to join them, nor does he seek to claim first prize on any of the earnings.

"Come on, then!" The masked operative says after being alerted to the contents of the crates. "We can break them open and divvy everything up later. Let’s just get out of here, alright?"

[dojango]

https://i.imgur.com/11aPIGs.jpg

The crew begins moving the crates to the ship. Well, most of them. Lon scurries back up out of the skylight to keep watch on the outside, while Elynn wanders down to the ship's cabin and lies down for a nap. Using the handcart in the warehouse, the crew is able to load a dozen of the heavy crates before the gangers start waking up. They no doubt have the biggest hangovers of their miserable lives, and mostly start groaning. "What's going on?" "Hey, what gives?" "****************" are a few of the curses that drift over from where they are tied up. Still, it were best that you were gone, lest they get a better glimpse at you.
Lon comes down from her vantage point. "Saw a couple of types keepin' an eye on the place. Couldn't make out who."

Wick's contraption works perfectly, of course. As the last hawser is untied, the boat slides towards the closed door... and its momentum forward carries the door up with a snap. The boat crashes into the water and glides out into the bay. The rope holding the door snaps off, and the door crashes back down. "Oh man," Elynn mumbles as he climbs back out of the cabin. "Uh, go up river a bit. Past the bridge. I know a place you can lie low." It takes a while as everyone fumbles with the unfamiliar controls and the fickle currents and winds of the river. There is a moment of panic as the ship's mast is about to clip the bottom of a bridge, before Elynn shows you how to fold down the mast. The thin glow of dawn is breaking as Lon and Elynn guide the craft in towards an quay. "Tie up next to that boat there," says Elynn. "She ain't going nowhere. Some fancy lawyer-types are trying to figure out who owns it. We're storing it for them. I reckon you can use these docks for a bit, I'll make sure nobody from the guild bothers you. I better get back home, my wife'll be worried sick about me." The streets are coming alive in the murky dawn. You're not too far from the public house where you met your contact.

[3SecondCultist]

With Wick's gizmo doing the trick and the boat out of the warehouse, Coil takes point near the front of the vessel. He peers out towards the hungry waters of the early morning in perfect stillness. The crates are all packed away on board, as is Elynn and all five of the original members of the team. He says nothing to the others, when it is clear that they are away. Instead, Coil takes the time to head down to the inner cabin, away from sight.

"Beautiful, is it not?" Jack Scrimshaw stands at the entrance, staring at the faded light of the morning. Dusting off the front of his coat, the lawyer takes a moment to allow the hateful remains of the sun's rays to caress his face. "In my travels, I have heard of treatises - written by ancient philosophers - that used to say that the sun was the center of the known universe. In their worldview, the celestial body represented the pinnacle of human potential. If only we could strive enough, we would reach it one day. I wonder what they would say now."

Leaving the question aside for the time being, Jack grips the railing of the vessel in one hand and his ebony cane in the other as the group begins to make for landing. He is the first off, striding up the dock. Tap, tap, goes the wooden stick. "Well then, this all went rather smoothly, wouldn't you say? All that is left to do is... collect our spoils. I have the prize in hand, so shall we be off?" His lips curl into a serene half-smile, but as always the pale eyes are completely blank.

Let's head into Payoff and Entanglements! Congratulations on finishing our first intro score, everyone! :smallsmile:

[Elbeyon]

Locke gives a healthy chuckle at Pepper's declaration as they load the boat.

----------

Jack's entrance back onto the boat's deck draws Locke's attention. She turns her head toward the rising sun after he comments on its beauty. The sunrise was the same as always as far as she could tell. Maybe, Jack was simply being poetic because they finished a score together. Some stuff about new beginnings and a new day or some crap. His next line seals it. Yep, that was exactly it. At least his waxing wasn't without a finish. "Never heard of them", she answers upon hearing about a new cult. She had no desire to say more on a group she knew nothing about. Did they believe they could reach perfection or that they'd fly off to the broken sun one day?

The boat pulled up to the street, and Locke energetically hopped out to rope the boat to a bollard. There was a measure of haste so she could finish and keep pace with the group. She hurries a few steps so she's with the group again. "It wasn't so smooth to bore. It had enough twists to rivet. It went well. I'd say our work was worth the payment." Locke walks alongside the crew and starts rubbing her hands for warm. She says to Jack, "You seem a little under the weather, a slight cough. After we're paid, you should rest for a spell. It'd help you.."

[n0ble]

Willix ground his teeth in frustration. He needed to smoke. After making sure everything was secure, he ascended onto the docks. He’d considered a few possible improvements to be made to the ship. No doubt it could impress the true owners right before he detonated them. “Eh?”

He turned around and faced the glow of the sun, listening to Now-Scrimshaw’s history lesson. “Sol’s Anvil, if I’m not mistaken.“ Technically they wouldn’t say anything. They’d gone the way of the Lost District and Skovish Barracuda. When he spoke next it was in Iruvian. "<We are the Forge for a Better Human.> Or some nonsense like that." Clearly then, none of them had eve been slightly Akorosi. “They’d probably lament the destruction of the source for their irrationality.” Willix gave the fragments a few more seconds of vision, pondered their geometries, then turned and nodded to Scrimshaw.

“Seemed a rousing success to me. The job, that is” He looked down at his right loafer and noticed a few speckles of vomit. No doubt from one of Sharp’s men, post-exposure to Skullfire. “Hurm.” Willix audibly dragged his foot across the dock then inspected his shoe again and smiled. “Hmph.” Willix lit up a cigarillo and took a grateful drag. Truth be told it, stomping out some ****heads and stealing their boat had done more than normal alleviate his boredom. The memory made his body sag a little bit with giddiness as he let out a plume of smoke from his cigarillo. It almost seemed blue in the sunlight.

[dojango]

http://americanhistory.si.edu/onthewater/assets/object/full/2009-5360.jpg

The crew heads up the quay, past the docked steamboat. It's paintwork is dull and grimy, with the name "Anglerfish" in fading letters on the side. The boat's foremast has an electrolamp hanging off a boom out in front of it. Under that light, you climb up the stairs of the quay back to the city. Elynn says his goodbyes, for now. "You need anything, let me know! I'll be at the guild house over dockside." He disappears into the crowds of workers heading out to their shifts.

It's a short hike across the bridge into Crow's Foot to where your contact is waiting. The public house is far less crowded now, with only a few workers getting a few drinks in before their shifts. Your contact is pacing back and forth, nervously when you walk in. "Did you get it?" he asks, as you come in. "Let me see it." After you hand over the satchel, he sits down at a table by the open hearth and opens the satchel. He pulls out the documents, scans them briefly. When he is done, he wads them up suddenly, grabs a pair of tongs from near the stove, picks up the papers and places them in the fire. They flare up, casting a brief light across the tavern room. "You didn't read them, did you?" he asks. Delilah shakes her head imperceptibly. "Good." Another man comes over with a few purses. The contact hands out your pay. "Thank the gods that's over with. I just couldn't bear the thought of..." he trails off. He pulls something out of his pocket and kneels in front of Delilah. "I can't bear the thought of you out in danger again, for my sake. Delilah, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Delilah gasps, says, "Yes! A thousand times, yes! I thought you'd never ask, Darmot..." she throws herself into his arms, they start kissing passionately. The few patrons gape a bit, then go back to their drinks. It's getting super-awkward. You should probably leave...

[Ramsus]

As soon as they're outside Pepper laughs aloud, but to herself at the display. "And here I thought all you Imperials were so grim and colorless. After I sell this gun, shall we go have drinks to celebrate?"
The thought to sell the gun and keep the profits for herself had never crossed her mind. For even though she was a scoundrel through and through, the code of the corsair was clear. Everyone else is fair game, but you never steal from your own crew.

[Elbeyon]

She'll leave them to their business. She got paid, and she never needs to see him again. She was simply a person that did a job for him. The coin lining the inside of her jacket, she flashes Pepper a big toothy smile. "A rousing success is worth drinking about here. I know just the place around here to get a drink."

Locke doesn't usually go to most people's type of bar. She wants to go deep underground to an occult bar. A place filled with the strange.

[3SecondCultist]

The silhouette of a discerning man makes its way through the social club. Coil is dressed in the usual garb, save for the sword he normally carries over his shoulder. The security at the Veil is fairly thorough. He is hardly the strangest person here: everywhere, Strangers and other beings cavort with each other and the Duskwall natives.

Coil does not pay them any attention. He gently pushes his way through several conjoined bodies to arrive at the bar. "Hey Da'asha, he in?" When the waitress pushes him through to the private entrance, Coil finds his way down a flight of stairs, through a labyrinthine set of hallways, and into a set of back rooms without the need for a guide. He has been here several times before, after all.

The figure that greets him on the other side of the portal might be considered 'normal' by the Tycherosi, but it is obvious just by looking at him why he cannot go out into the city streets. Rolan Volaris has a set of slicked back dark hair, wearing a fine vest and shirt, as well as a gold chain necklace and a few jewels. All told, he looks like any other Nightmarket salesman... from the waist up. Around his middle, Volaris' body turns into hardened scales of a beautiful viridian black-green serpent that reflect the torchlight.

"Evening, Volaris," Coil says as he slowly takes off his mask. "What do you have for me tonight?"


On the Docks

"A rousing success." Traces of amusement play around Jack's lips as he repeats the words of his crew member. He makes no other comments about Delilah's upcoming nuptials, but he leaves the dockside tavern with a singular spring in his step. It's hard to tell exactly, but something about the man's exuberant movement speaks to a deeper affectation than simple parlor tricks or the feature of a false identity.

"Yes, I think today was..." the well-dressed solicitor breaks off into a sudden fit of coughing. He recovers after a few moments, looking outwardly none the worse for wear, besides being slightly short of breath. "... was a great first outing, of what could be many to come! Lead on, Locke. A wise man once said, it is always in one's best interests to live life to the very full. I don't know about any of you, but I personally intend on fulfilling that mantra. Where else to start but in the seediest taverns of the finest city in Akoros?"


A Friend in Need

"Objection!" The doors to the constabulary office slam open. Jack Scrimshaw strides in, cane tapping against every surface as though he were doing it purposely to annoy the Bluecoats who run the establishment. For a supposedly blind man, he avails himself well enough, pushing his way into the interview room without too much trouble.

"Ah, there you are my dear," Scrimshaw says upon confirmation that he is indeed in the right room. He takes Nyryx's arm, being careful not to press too hard. He then turns towards the sounds of the Bluecoat officers present in the room. "This is unlawful imprisonment of my client. In accordance with the Duskwall Charter of Citizenship, I demand that she be released forthwith. You lot are lucky that my office isn't going to press charges against the Bluecoats for this. Our contacts within the city's establishment pay a very handsome sum to the authorities each year specifically to avoid these kinds of debacles. The disgrace of it!"

At first, Jack's face is the very picture of studied outrage, but by the time the pair have reached the main doors, he is actively guiding Nyryx through the route to get back out onto the streets with a determined expression. He does not stop for anybody. When they are outside and safely out of earshot, Jack finally cracks a smile at the woman. "Well, I must say that went better than I anticipated. I apologize for roping you into last night's business. I can only hope that my timely intervention here has made up for the slightest fraction of the inconvenience I caused you."


The person who sometimes calls himself Jack Scrimshaw sits in his study. The room is quiet; save for the ticking of the little alchemical clock that he keeps above his bookshelf, the only noise is that which wafts up from the street. This time of twilight, it is but a few goat-pulled carriages, and the plaintive cries of the odd hawker. Then again, this corner of Charterhall is never all that busy to begin with.

At the man's plain but polished table, placed delicately in front of him, is his evening meal. Petrified mushrooms and assorted fungi, seasoned with herbs from various shops. Anyone with a refined palate would recognize some of the spices as being relatively expensive, coming from different parts of the city. A side of eel is presented in a deconstructed fashion, with the snarling head staring back at him from the edge of the platter. There, trapped beneath the sea creature's black coils, is a flank of red meat that has been dry-aged and smoked to perfection.

Breaking open the seal on a new bottle of cap wine from his personal stores, the man pours himself a glass. For a long time, he ponders the neon purple liquid inside the smoked crystal. After letting the vintage breathe, he takes his first sip. Putting down his napkin, he begins to tuck into dinner.

So, a few different things are happening here! First of all, Jack did a Vice Indulgence for 5 Stress taken off of his sheet (both the first and the last scene here). Then, he's continuing (ending?) the 'group scene', and finally he is bailing Nyryx out of her predicament.

Dojango, if you want to reply to a scene, I would recommend the Nyryx one. The Vice ones work best the way that I've written them for now, in my opinion.

[dojango]

"Ah, my knight in shining armor," said Nyryx as the stationhouse door closed. "I knew you wouldn't leave me in there... Jack, what did you do? The Bluecoats were asking about some sort of missing treasure! I told them I was just a working girl, but I keep my ears open. Someone big isn't happy about something. Someone big is calling the shots. Maybe I don't want to know. That Sharp wanker musta told the inspectors I was there. I'm gonna spread the word he's a snitch, that'll learn him to keep his big mouth shut."

[dojango]

Pepper finds Garry in a corner of Ankhayat Park. He's wearing his heavy pie-storage contraption. Its telescoping legs are planted firmly in the ground, taking the weight off his back. He never seems to mind the weight, though. As Pepper approaches, Garry is staring aimlessly into the sky. "Hey, Pepper," he says as she approaches. "Just doing some sun-gazing. Thought I might run into you. Have one meat pie left! Saved it for you. Or Salt, I know he likes them too."

[Ramsus]

Prowess Training

At some point during their night of celebration and deciding to stick together, Pepper wound up in a sword fight with a drunken barmaid. It's ok though, Pepper was also drunk. Probably twice as drunk. And her sword, if one could even call it that, was quite rusty. But it's ok though, the barmaid's sword was also rusty. Probably twice as rusty. Neither of them were particularly skilled in sword fighting. Pepper probably would have had the upper hand if her sword would have ever gone where she wanted it to. The few times they did hit each other, nothing much happened. The swords were too dull to do any real damage and while some strength was used for the swings they were always wobbly and off point. The duel ended like it began. With broken rusted metal objects and glass on the ground and Pepper walking off with an entire bottle of rum and a palm full of the barmaid's rear end.

Two days later... their second day of owning the, in Pepper's words, "adorable" steamboat, she decided she needed to learn to control this new kind of vessel. So she started by moving all her meager belongings out of the place she had been squatting in and onto the boat. Later in the day she got her hands on the wheel and started off pretty slow and safe. By the end of the day she'd somehow turned the steamboat around on a canal it shouldn't really have been able to turn around in on accident and almost tipped the whole thing over.
She consoled herself that it was ok though since none of the rest of the crew had been on board at the time to witness any of it.
About ten minutes later she discovered that, unfortunately for one currently unnamed member of the crew, this was not in fact the case.

Long Term Project: The Hunt Consort for a Changeling

Pepper looked up at the completely black sky and nodded as if she understood perfectly and it was a normal thing for Garry to say.
At the offer of the meat pie she grimaced and then smiled. She'd grown pretty sick of them, but also the flavor had become kind of addicting at the same time. Garry knew his spices for sure. And of course the last pie of the day meant a high chance of actual real not-even-rat meat! Not a luxury to spurn.
"Well I can't say no to that! Thanks." she said with appreciation as she split the pie in half in her hands and just stuck her right hand down into Salt's mouth and fed half to the crocodile without even looking down like that's a thing people do.
With her mouth full of half a pie she just stuffed in there, she commented, "Yuf kno' Salf's agirll. Ey tol' y' 'fore. Mmmmmmmm Mmmmm! 'fats sum kick!" Then after some more chewing and a swallow she added with a laugh, "Peppery pie for Pepper huh?"

After they shoot the breeze for a bit while enjoying the pleasant breeze in the park, she lets Garry know what she came to talk to him about. She describes what kind of person she's looking for and asked, "Know anyone like that?"

[dojango]

"Need a teacher, eh? University's full of teachers. They know lots of things. Some of them might even be true, too. So why'd you come to old Garry? I already got a job. And I ain't taking any more apprentices now. Still ain't finished with the last one yet," says Garry, pointing at the pie being devoured by Salt. "Haha, just a joke," he adds, a moment or three later. "That's the kind of thing you want to learn about? Jokes, witty repartee, how to command the ancient spirits of the earth, salesmanship. And you want someone who can teach you about it for cheap? You know, I wasn't always the man I was today. Maybe we can find you my old master. He made me what I am today." Garry whacks a button on the side of his pack. The legs retract back inside. He adjusts the straps to allow the thing to rest more easily. "C'mon, haven't seen the old bastard in a dog's age. Last I knew he was living in a tenement over in Six Towers."

[Elbeyon]

Downtime: Ritual

The night air is fresh. There is an energy to the moon tonight. The hustle and bustle of a busy district is around her despite her being along the district's edge. She can see the Gaddoc Rail Station off in the distance, lit up by electroplasm. This place hardly slept. The nightmarket was always a crowd pleaser to her. The people moving about their busy lives undisturbed by the the deeper world and battles around them. She turns to the left to start making inroads towards her destination.

The new elites sure did like to show off their wealth. The lamps are maintained where they are supposed to be maintained while some darker spots facilitate trades of a more disclosed nature. The new luxurious buildings are a beautiful display of strength. Locke stops at her observations so far to let her thoughts settle and joins in with many of the other denizens of duskwall by window shopping through building windows and the stalls people have set up.

Eventually, she reaches her destination and goes inside a not too modest building. The place is a nice venue rented out by Aranna and her cult. Locke enters the larger room set aside for the group and makes some social rounds, chatting with the regulars. As the moon crosses the sky, the activities start to begin and Locke finds herself in a room unwrapping the fur containing her ceremonial outfit. Properly fitted, she makes her way to the ritual room she booked for tonight.

https://pre00.deviantart.net/4cbd/th/pre/f/2011/362/9/4/dullahan_concept_by_shagan_fury-d4kip2k.jpg

Art(ist) (https://shagan-fury.deviantart.com/art/Dullahan-concept-276329324)
A duo off to the side whispers as she enters. Three others sit by themselves, not troubling anyone. They're all wearing customs to conceal their identities. Locke recognizes one of the solos as a friend from Aranna's group. No matter, the amount of witnesses here aren't outside of her comfort zone. She makes her way to the middle of the room.

She takes a pouch from her waist and starts to create a circle of black salt for her watcher's protection. Locke steps inside the circle and starts preparing the ritual. A vial of arcane regents, a blood mix. Two packages of dried elements, black twisted flesh and ethereal hair. She pours a small bowl full of some foul smelling liquid and sets the flesh piece to soak inside. The other more ethereal component she leaves unwrapped on the floor. The vial is unstopped and left to rest.

She lights her lantern and starts chanting over the elements. The twisted flesh is plucked from the bowl and she carefully inserts it into the lamp's fire. It takes a moment to light, but the lantern starts to burn black, a smoke lightly billowing from inside. She keeps chanting as the smoke spreads. The fumes press against the black salt walls she assembled. The ghostly component soon gets picked up into the wispy currents of blackness. The open vial near starts to overflow onto the floor. The blood within growing and encircling her. She continues to chant. The blood evaporates red and now all three components mix in the air. Locke stops her chanting. The black and red smoke clings to her in refusal, and starts to crawl into her pores, mouth, and nose. Once the smoke is gone, the ritual is done.

She takes a moment to collect her strained body and steps outside the circle. Everyone leaves without a word expect the regular. Locke stays for a while, chatting with her before rejoining the main venue.

[n0ble]

Willix’s eye twitched involuntarily at the macabre display going on between Delilah and the contact. He rolled his eyes, turned his back and began to leave. Pepper’s offer made him glance back at the trio. A thin smile appeared on his lips.

It was a quaint idea. Sharing a drink with a few plebeians. Willix blinked slowly over his spectacles. “Tempting, but I’ve a familial engagement-“ Eight. “-to attend to. Should any of you have ideas for alchemies, come ask for Nine at the Bowmore Manor. You might have to wait an hour.” Or two. And that was if Willix was in a good mood. His gaze lingered on the two women and his smile grew a bit bigger at the thought of having either of the oddities at home. “If that’s all then.”

Wick showed himself out the door and back onto the docks. True be told he was bloody exhausted from the night’s excursion, but the tiredness hadn’t quite hit him yet. By the time Willix had left the establishment his smile had faded into a loose, thin lipped line. He began walking east, to home.

**************

Downtime Part 1: How Willix Learned to stop Worrying and Love Spiders

He hadn’t been entirely truthful. Familial obligations were a priority, yes, but some things came before family. Like research. There was always time for more research. And that meant a visit to somewhere in the city with a nice view. The war memorial at Unity Park was as good a place as any. Willix propped himself up into a sitting position on the bench. A mother was pushing a stroller nearby. She must have smelled Willix downwind, for her lips curled into a taught sneer as she passed by. Willix scowled, was tempted to flip her off or kick over her stroller, then thought better of it. He was still in his attire from the job and it would not do to cause a ruckus when dressed so poorly. Instead he turned to his satchel and removed the first of several books therein.

Willix had three to get through and the first of them promised to be the worst. It was a copy of Farros’ rag, A History of Armors. A book for children really, though it pained Willix to admit his knowledge of armor creation was about equivalent. No amount of rhyming could offset how boring Willix found spark-craft. He wasn’t stupid when it came to designs. The First had once commended him for creating a paper ship that sailed on the bubbles from the soap he’s smeared on the bottom. But it was all so…limited. Even a Skov had more potential for advancement beyond their base nature, with the right genius to guide them of course. And humanity was a resource that was increasing, in spite of the Unity War’s past efforts. Spark-craft, as a rule, depleted resources. Alchemy could at least be net positive. Still, Farros’ scribblings were needed to form a baseline for the principals of armor and so, begrudgingly, Willix had added it to his list.

The second book was actually a collection of six, one for each country in the world. Ultimately, buying them as an omnibus had proven cheaper than piecemeal. Willix, like many other outstanding entomologists, considered All the Land’s Spiders & Selected Readings on Scorpions a rather thrilling yarn on the nature of arachnids. That it was by an uncle, Daresh Bowmore, was coincidence. Normally Willix couldn’t stand to read things written by family, but Daresh had a certain exotic appeal to his writing. Perhaps it was his Iruvian half.

Just as the sun set, so too did it rise. An irritating fact, much the same as how Willix would begin and end his research with boredom. It was why he’d chosen the Omnibus for the middle. On Weaving: A Guide to the Soul and the Art of the Clothier was state propaganda, pure and simple. A religion sponsored brainwashing program that had since faded into obscurity on shelves. But it taught you how to weave. Or so the old woman at the book store had told him. Willix didn’t place much faith in anyone missing half his or her teeth, but he’d no idea where to start otherwise. Weaving was for servants and exotic seamstresses like that one at Dundrige and Sons. A Skov, if he was not mistaken. “Mm.” Perhaps he could have some fun disseminating the Church’s canticles. It’d be more fun than memorizing the weaving patterns and quotes about flesh.

Willix sighed and opened up A History of Armors:

Armor is many things. It can be conceptual, it can be mental. It can be pliable or firm. Light or heavy. But above all else, armor must be one thing: capable of protecting its wearer. You hold in your hands a window into the past through which we may glimpse how armor and it’s protective qualities have evolved over the ages. From the Skovish Zweihander shock troops so prevalent in the Unity War to ancient Severosi Cataphracts, this manual-

Willix looked up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Suffering Emperor preserve my mind from this drivel.” He hoped the others would appreciate the amount of pain he was going through to protect them…


Rolled a 6 for the Study Long Term Project Roll. Alchemist should kick it up to a critical effect for 5/8 from the clock. :smallsmile:



Downtime Part 2: Family Values

"Did you hear the Seventh is missing, brother?"

"Mm?" Willix had let his head lull to the side. There was particularly attractive member of the waitstaff leaving their table and Willix had an excellent view of her rear. His content smile faded as Maxim (Eight) caught him noticing.

"The Seventh-"She shot a glance behind her shoulder, then whipped her head back to sneer at Willix "-Oh Emperor dam your perversities, what was her name, the Iruvian half-breed..."

"Cyrene?"

"Yes yes her! The one who almost took your fruitsahaha!" It'd been true. Revenge for a previous dig at her sword forms. Things had gotten so bad everyone had feared the Second might get involved. He could see that Eight was laughing but there was an implicit edge underneath it all that sounded...bitter? Maybe life was getting to Her. Willix sighed. After the excitement of last night family matters seemed trivial by comparison. Still, contenting himself with idle family gossip was a nice return to formality, and there was a certain appeal to living a double life.

"Who cares? People go missing all the time in Duskvol, Maxim." Eight's face contorted into something approaching rage before she quashed it into a polite sneer. "Really Willix, Skovish at the dinner table?" He ignored the barb and sagged a bit into his chair. The sea urchin on the plate was looking less and less appetizing the more and more Eight spoke. He reluctantly flipped the mollusc over and speared a glob of it. He chewed noisily, making sure to get a few gobs of urchin laden-spittle onto Maxim's lobster. After finishing it, Willix wiped his mouth with an eel-skinned sleeve.

"So who do you think it was then?"


Cleared 5 Stress Totally up for continuing the RP if you are dojango:smallsmile:

[Elbeyon]

Downtime: The Hunt Consort for a Changeling (Pepper & Locke)

Garry lead Pepper to the last known location he had for the person known as Changeling. Unfortunately he wasn't there, so they spent the rest of the day talking to people who were the kinds of people who knew people if you people know what I mean. Eventually they put enough information together to give Pepper a direction in which to start looking. So she bid Garry a good day and tracked the place down. It was out of the way and once she got there, all she found was an empty building and the only clue she had were some strange writings. She couldn't puzzle them out on her own and it was late so she went back to the steamboat to sleep.

The next day she determined to ask Locke for her assistance. Finding Locke at “The Moon Under Water”, she approached with a wave and cut to the chase, "You have some time? I could use your help with something. I'm trying to hunt down this person who could be of use to us, but I encountered something weird. I'm no stranger to the weird stuff, seen plenty out on the waves, but haven't seen this before. Was hoping you'd have an idea about it."

The Moon Under Water: A bar/drug den that secretly aspires to get a strong foothold into the occult world. It has private rooms, mostly used for drugs and secret meetings. Locke usually hangs out here when she is available for a job. That’s where she is today, and some help will point Pepper toward Locke once she drops her name.

Locke looks to the curtain as it opens to reveal the familiar faced Pepper. She stares at her and takes a deep drag off her hookah. The few others in the room with her react visibility with discomfort at the stranger appearing, but Locke puts a steady hand up to signal that she is dropping out of the conversation to talk to her guest. Pepper’s next few sentences are seemingly lost on Locke. A slow exhale, she says, “I’m into that; I’d bet.” She chuckles at the vagueness. “Sure, I have time to explore the weirdness surrounding The Pepper’s hunt. If he can hide and seek from you, he could be worth my afternoon.” She takes light drag and let’s the smoke lose as she speaks. " never thought I'd have you as a client."

Pepper looks at the hookah with remorse. Remorse that she needs to stay sharp for this and not partake herself. "It might take a bit longer than an afternoon." Pepper comments quietly enough that she can still claim she warned Locke, but not loud enough for Locke to likely hear it over the noise coming from the rest of the place. "Great, glad to have you. Let's go then." Pepper says almost immediately after, grabbing Locke by the arm and basically dragging her out and leading her across the city.

She knows Pepper said something. She just doesn't know what. She’s about to ask her to repeat herself, but let’s out a “Whoa” instead as Pepper starts to drag her out of the room. The people with her in the smoking room start reaching for a fight. Locke puts a steadying hand out, a flat palm towards them, to signal that is fine, and they all seem to lose interest in her and go back to smoking and talking among themselves. She grabs her greatcoat and ushnka on the way out. Locke starts putting on her warmer layers as she hurries after Pepper. “It promises to be interesting.” Pepper seems a great deal more informal and friendly than she is used to almost everyone being. A true oddity in Duskwall. It’s very hard to try not to take offense at her rudeness, but Locke puts forth an effort. At least, until the group gets rid of their crates. After that, her business with them would be finished.

dojango! Let me know if something needs changed. Pepper and Locke are in this together now. O:

4/4 Segments filled.

On the Docks

Locke answers Jack's impression on future fortunes by saying, "We get rid of the boxes, then I'm out. I work alone." She says even though she just did a team job. "Nothing against anyone. It is always in one's best interest to live life to the very fullest. A person can only look out for themselves to the fullest while not hindering themselves with other's problems. But, a part of life is celebrating the highs, and I do need some drinking company. Ever heard of The Moon Under Water?"

She shrugs as Willix bows out and seems to lose interest in him. Though she immediately gains interest again when he mentions the Bowmore Manor and she asks in surprise, "What? You work there?" She had her suspicions, but they seemed too unlikely to believe. "Are you trying to tell me that your one of the sons? What are you doing with us?"

[dojango]

As Pepper and Garry walk across town, Garry regales her with advice and tidbits about the meat-pie trade. "I'm not just selling pies, you know. I'm selling the memory of home. Comfort. And pepper, of course. Can't have too much pepper. Can have too much salt, though. I only sell the salted pies for cheap, late at night. Outside taverns. The publicans cut me in a piece of the action, you know?" When they arrive at the tenement, they find the one Garry remembered to be full of a large family. They slam the door in Garry's face. "Ah, everyone's got a lever. You just got to find it and pull it, and you can do so much more work... not everyone is as brave or strong or clever as me. And you, I suppose. You go inside, ask around. It's a little too crowded for me to move around in there. Be careful, they don't like strangers in there. They've got enough enemies here. Gangers, landlords, bluecoats, health inspectors..." Pepper goes inside to ask around. Eventually, she finds some leads about the man who used to live there a while back. Apparently, he'd left to go live with his nephew in Dunslough. She returns outside to where Garry is. He's carefully cutting a pie into eight pieces while a group of urchins crowd around him. Once he's done, they grab their pieces, and flee. Except for one, a young girl. She stays, hurridly shoveling the pie into her mouth with both hands. "Go on, girl, tell her what you told me," says Garry.

"The old man left last year. He gave me this before he left. Said I should use it to find him when I'm all growed up." The girl holds out a crude spirit mask. It is a simple oval, with thin eyes and simple slash for a mouth. "I'm gonna be a witch when I grow up. Going to turn all the bad people into frogs. Like the man at work that makes mommy cry. And those stupid boys who steal my lunch. Then mommy and me will eat frog soup every night."

"You can let Pepper borrow it. She's a good people," says Garry.

The girl reluctantly hands it over. "You better bring it back," she says. "Or I'm going to turn you into a frog too."

"Good luck," says Garry. "There's a protest outside the electrowerks soon. Should be a good place to sell some pies. I'll see you around, Pepper. Give my regards to Master Kendall."

With the mask and the leads given to her, Pepper tracks her quarry to a small hovel on the outskirts of Dunslough. The hovel is abandoned, and sealed up. Pepper waits until the coast is clear, and then carefully pries the door open. Once inside, she sees the place is empty, stripped bare. The walls, though. The walls are covered with strange scrawls of writing. The letters and words look vaguely familiar, but Pepper is not able to make sense of them. Save for the word "Changeling" scrawled across each wall, in the center.

[Elbeyon]

Downtime: The Hunt Consort for a Changeling (Pepper & Locke)

Locke flips the fur flap on her waist that hides her own spirit mask and puts it on. "You were right. Strange place you found here." Locke sticks her hand out toward Pepper. "I could get a better read if I had his retired mask. It should have a strong connection to him if he intended for it to be able to track him. You've found a mysterious one Pepper. Since I'm here for the sake of my own curiosity, perhaps you could clue me in on why you're hunting this person down? It's personal right? They owe you money? Mug a friend? Make friends with ghosts?"

[dojango]

Anna and the Spiders

There was an old parable. Anna and the Spiders. She had been an alchemist who had devoted much of her life and fortune to breeding spiders to produce a brilliant purple silk. It had taken her decades of course, but eventually she developed a breed of spiders that had been able to take the food they ate (flies that fed exclusively on the deep purple brambleberries that grew densely across the deathlands) and pass on those alchemical properties to the silk they wove. A beautiful purple silk, or so the stories went. Unfortunately, the day she had perfected her art and stood poised to corner the market and recoup her fortune, some itinerant sparkcrafter had figured out how to make purple dye cheaply and easily as a by-product of some chemical processes. He had gone on to have his formula stolen by his employer who had made millions, while poor Anna had died alone and penniless amongst her spiders... Of course, the story is merely told as a parable about the superiority of sparkcraft and the failings of alchemy, but then, some of the spiders lurking around the hedges of Bowmore Manor do seem to spin brilliant purple webs...

*********

Dinner with Maxim

Maxim gets a distant look. She eats her lobster absently, staring off into the corners of the room. A few waitstaff and servants hover around the edges of the room, and she doesn't respond to Willix for a few minutes. For a moment, though, the room is clear of servants, and she responds. "She's a half-breed. Stuck living a double life. Half a life. First stopped paying for her stupid fencing lessons, and I bet she's run off to wave those stupid swords and red scarves around like the other Iruvian idiots. She'll come back, crawling and penniless. Or she'll get in trouble in the gutters, and she won't come back at all. And you know what that will mean..."

[Ramsus]

Downtime: The Hunt Consort for a Changeling (Pepper & Locke)

Pepper laughs as she hands over the mask. "Completely wrong little Locket! I wanted to find someone who could aid me, and I guess the rest of us, with the ways of dealing with people and with supernatural know-how. I know a bit, but a bit probably won't cut it sooner or later. So I asked Garry's Famous Meat Pies if he knew anyone of that sort and... well here we are."
At which point she holds out the mask to Locke and comments, "Make sure to give that back, it's not mine and I actually plan on returning borrowed property for once."

While Locke does her thing, Pepper pays close attention. She doesn't really get what Locke is doing and only half understands the explanations, but she tries at least.

[3SecondCultist]

On the Docks

"An intriguing ethos," Jack says to Locke's quick dismissal of his notion as the group walks towards the nearest watering hole. He holds her gaze for a moment, a small and private smirk playing around his lips as though he had just heard a supremely funny joke. "Then again, perhaps living one's life to the full might encompass venturing beyond horizons previously unexplored. If so, then it stands to reason that you might benefit from working with a group, since you normally operate on your own. I myself swear by new experiences, and I must say that the events of the past few hours have been nothing short of exhilarating."

As the trio walks and Willix has left, Jack turns to the Islander. "I had the pleasure of visiting the Dagger Isles as a young man. Such a beautiful country. Do you miss the time you spent there?"


A Friend in Need

Jack pauses mid-stride, one pale eyebrow raising slightly while the rest of his face is composed in what can only be termed as distant interest. "Somebody big? Fascinating. I cannot say I know anything about a missing treasure. However, I will keep an eye out for any score large enough to attract the kind of attention you are claiming. I don't suppose that you have a name for me to investigate..."

"And of course," the lawyer continues, "you have access to my services, should you require them. Coil will be able to help as well, but you will need to contact him in advance. My door is open any time. I cannot promise the same for him."


The Last 10th of the Law

The table at the restaurant is just of a class enough for tablecloths, if not for silk imports. Plain cloth is enough for the Damned Damsel. The establishment is located a few blocks south of Saltford's, but not so close to the Menagerie as to make the prospective clientele too skittish. Most customers do not want to deal with the sights and sounds of that accursed place. The restaurant owner, a former Iruvian galley chef turned amateur gourmet, serves "authentic" dishes from her homeland, most of which is happily devoured by the Damsel's regulars. It is popular enough that there is usually a small stream of traffic between the hours of Silk and Ash.

And therefore it is more or less a perfect neutral meeting spot for this evening's meeting.

Jack arrives early, taking his stainless steel pocket watch from his vest pocket and checking the time before settling into one of the plush, wooden-backed chairs around the table. Fastidiously, he places a leather case on his lap and flips the lid open, pulling out the paperwork on the object at hand. Eyes flicking over the text on the page, he nods slightly before placing the file on the paper in front of him.

The others should be arriving soon. Elynn, and the other two men. They will have brought their own counsel, so Jack has set aside six seats for tonight's sit-down.

For reference, the hours of 'Silk' and 'Ash' refer to 6:00-8:00. There's actually a whole chart of the Duskwall hours in the main handbook.

[Ramsus]

On the Docks

Pepper doesn't immediately answer and ponders the question for a bit. "A bit. But honestly I've been out on the sea for my whole life. What I miss is the rhythm of waves beneath me and the safety of sleeping surrounded by my crew. If I miss anything of the Isles the most, I'd say it's the color. Duskwall's very... dour. The low places are dark and dull and the high places are clean white or pale colors. Sure there are places with splashes of color, but the Dagger Isles just has color everywhere from the plants to the animals to the clothes. Here you've got.... electroplasm. Which isn't very...." She let's herself trail off for a moment to leave the complexities of that implied but unspoken since that's a whole discussion of it's own at least. She continues after a moment. "Well it's interesting." She pauses, then adds, "Like a blade is."

She only then thinks about the fact that Jack has been to the Dagger Isles and asks with some surprise, "What brought you all the way out there?"

[Elbeyon]

Downtime: The Hunt Consort for a Changeling (Pepper & Locke)

She taps her blood arc at the nickname. "Almost everyone calls me Locke. You should do the same."

"This guy you're hunting down is a whisper master? You should have led with that." She takes the plan mask and awakens her eyes to the ghost field. Her vision opens to the past. Those aware themselves could see under the mask, deep within the skull's eye sockets, a hard to realize white ghoulish glowing hidden by the broken sun's poor lighting. A trick to the eye - a blink erases that all from sight and mind. Was it all a trick of the light? A reflection in Locke's eyes or something more? She looks around the room, walks around, and looks down at the mask. She asks, "What does Garry charge for information like that?" He might not make a bad resource if he's this connected to know a whisper teacher.

"I'll give the mask back. I only need one." Standard policy, it's best not to ask too many questions.

[Ramsus]

Downtime: The Hunt Consort for a Changeling (Pepper & Locke)

Pepper just ignores the command to call Locke by her proper alias. Commands like that really only work when you intimidate the person you're speaking to. Pepper is not the sort to scare easily, especially since she has some understanding of Whisper type stuff.

She also doesn't respond to the snarky rhetorical question.

"For me? Not a thing. He even gave me a meat pie with real meat. We're good chums. In fact he's the first person I really got to know here. Though, I chose to make that happen." she replies to the actual question.

When Pepper realizes Locke isn't doing anything on the physical realm and also isn't going to explain anything, she too opens herself up to the ghost field to see what's what. Locke, already looking at this layer of reality, would see Pepper's eyes go completely black, except with little pinpricks of light like the dark ocean waters. Since Pepper is straining herself a bit, another manifestation would reveal itself to Locke. Little electroplasmic flickers that look like patches of scales on various places lit up over Pepper's skin.
To a person who wasn't observing the ghost field, it would probably just look like there was a dark shadow fallen over Pepper's eyes.

[dojango]

Hunting for the Changeling

What to say about the ghost field? It is a riot of sensation. It is a graveyard. Echoes of the past. Hints of the future. No two people describe it alike, and yet they all seem to say the same thing. It is overwhelming to mortal senses. The trick is to ignore everything but what you want to see. Pepper and Locke attune themselves to the ghost field and try to discern the mysteries of this small hovel. They see three robed figures enter into the hut. They chant, they scatter ingredients, they scrawl all over the wall. This goes on for a few minutes. Or years. It is hard to tell in the ghost field. Eventually, they finish, nod to each other. They gather up their materials and leave. The door shakes briefly as they nail it shut again.

Pepper and Locke continue to observe the echoes of the ghost field. They notice that the strange spirit mask glows slightly. In the distance, they can feel, rather than see, a similar glow. The spirit mask is warm to the touch. Comforting. Their quarry lies to the west. Through Dunslough and out towards Barrowcleft.

Nyryx's tale

"I don't know, Jack. Someone was making those inspectors and bluecoats hop. They were laughing about the Fog Hounds, though. Apparently they're in big trouble now. Lost their big score..."

The last 10th of the Law

Elynn may not understand the wranglings of the law, but he knows when he's in a good position for a deal. "I like it, Jack. We'll skim a little off the top. You, me, your friends. And the best part? Nobody loses..." The Skol River Shipping company had once plied the trade routes of the Skol River with its three steamships. Bad decisions, bad luck, and competition from the lightning rail had left it in dire straits. The owner had borrowed heavily from a number of sources, forgetting to inform them of his web of loans. And then he (and one of his ships) disappeared on a milk run down the coast. The other ship was lost in a fire while navigating the rapids near Cleves. That left the steamship Anglerfish as its main remaining asset. The Guild's mechanic's lien on it takes priority, and are storing the ship until the heirs to the company can be found, so that the other creditors may finish fighting over the scraps of the company. The Guild is prevented by ancient tradition and law from operating ships of their own, but nothing stops them from leasing out their asset to a friendly company.

Inside the restaurant, the others arrive. Dalia Theresa Sanden, from Sanden's Loans, and her lawyer William Padding. Carl Payment from The Bank of the River, and his lawyer Gunnar Howe. "Quite an unusual proposal you have there, Mr. Scrimshaw," says Mr. Padding. "I am not sure that putting the ship back into trading service again is a sustainable project, since that's how we got into this mess in the first place, but your idea does have some merit. If only to shift the costs of maintenance onto some poor suckers..."

[n0ble]

On the Docks

Locke’s comments drew a slightly raised eyebrow, but little else more than a shrug otherwise. “Mm. Yes I’m ninth. As for why…boredom. Mostly.” Some alchemies just had to be made outside the law. Willix hmphed his way into a walk away from the docks and towards home.

Anna and the Spiders

An idle plume of smoke billowed around the beetles and into the bell jar they were in. Willix withdrew his mouth from the test tube soldered to the bell jar, then put a cork in it. He watched the beetles writhe around, flipping themselves over only to kick weakly at the air. A particularly enterprising stag beetle was neatly flipped over another of it’s own kind, then both beetle and rival succumbed to the fog. Willix smirked at the jar and decided to name the beetle that’d gone for a walkabout Phineas.

All the Land’s Spiders & Selected Readings on Scorpions had proved to be immensely helpful. As was typical, the Bowmores had more to say academically than others. Even On Weaving had proven to hold more insight than Farros’ inflated piece. Everyone knew that Skovs got their iron from Lockport, not solely via raids on caravans to Blackvale. Why in Scurlock’s Gate would an Imperial put Bonechanter runes on their armor? It had been an annoyingly easy opinion to pick apart and, what’s more, had had no bearing on Willix’s research. Thus, A History of Armors had proven to be spectacularly useless outside of a few buzzwords Willix had followed up on.

The spiders however, had proved to be a remarkable find. He’d read up on their diet. Sucking out a victim’s vital fluids was a wonderful idea for a pathogen or perhaps a variation in the Bloodrose strain. Willix made a mental note to look into the applications of Bloodthorns and exsanguination, the turned his attention back to the beetles. Another source of vital fluid, but not for him. “Mm. Come to think of it…”

He reached over and took a generous gulp from the blue mushroom cider sitting to his right, only to follow it up with some smoke from his cigarillo. It was the same smoke as inside the bell jar. He’d need to keep an eye on the webbing as it formed. Cut away the excess, use it to begin some preliminary patterns. Hopefully a diet of beetles would fatten them up so they could make more of the purple strands. From there, new, if slightly garish armor could be woven.

Willix settled into the heady buzz that’d come down on his head, then went to work depositing the comatose beetles into the terrarium with the spiders.


Family Values


“Ah.” So that was it. Return to disgrace in the Ordering or death, which meant a ghost. And probably one still obsessed with its position at that. Willix quickly concluded that Seven was a ****ing idiot. But she sounded like a useful ****ing idiot. That she might have aligned herself with the Red Sashes was promising.

Willix twirled his pasta fork up with a mollusk that he’d spooned into the bowl from some white sauce. They looked to be gelling together quite well. Willix held up the fork-food and looked past it at Eight. He chomped down on the food and chewed a bit, then asked her thoughtfully: “ Do you think it was one of the other families? Perhaps Three?”

[Elbeyon]

On the Docks

A shout for the ever so busy Wick, "If you ever need some work done, come find me!" Him walking away is like a coin purse walking away.

Locke shrugs to the idea being her ethos. It was something she had said in the of the moment. It's not something she had thought about at any length or had any philosophical debates about. The independence she gained by being detached from others is what had real value, not some idea. She keeps a close eye on Jack as he smirks. "Looking beyond the veil is sort of what I do for a living." She's not drunk enough to be talking about such a dainty subject. She shrugs again. "I'll think about it," she answers him directly. "I want the rest of my money first."

She stays silent and listens to the two talk about past exploits and lives. Her hands in her greatcoat and her scarf around her mouth, she walks alongside them.

Downtime: The Hunt Consort for a Changeling (Pepper & Locke)

That slight disturbance in the veil is so close. Locke raises her view from the mask to Pepper and gets a good look at her. "Your eyes look like the ocean. The constellations peeking through the pure black water and sky." She wasn't trying to be poetic. The look flooded her with a memories from a past long ago. The scales are an interesting display. The ocean calls back to her too.

She asks with a touch of sincerity, "Do you know what creature my mask comes from?" Not one for games, she answers, "It's a leviathan scale. One of our hauls - it was armored with bone so hard it turned away harpoons. A ghastly creature. Its milky reflection could be seen with the smallest of lights. Below the water, it stared back at us with with thousands of faces. When we pulled it up, it turns out they were scales." Locke taps her mask.

They shared enough. Locke has a feeling they saw the same thing. She points out towards the light with the warm mask. "How about we stop waxing and find your master?"

[dojango]

Pepper and Locke

The faint glow in their minds is off to the west. They walk through the dusty, grimy streets of Dunslough, past the eeleries and algae farms. They walk past a few of the strange radiant energy groves. Most work gangs keep their heads down and ignore travelers, after all, they have quotas to meet and not enough time to fill them. They pass through to the edge of Barrowcleft. In one forgotten corner of a farm, they see a small paved square. The paving-stones are white slabs with names and numbers engraved on them. They approach the glowing figure near one of the edges of the square. A ghostly form is 'seated', so to speak. The ghost looks at Pepper and Locke as they approach. A distant voice, a thought audible on the ghost wind forms. <Greetings, travelers. I see you have brought my mask back to me. But why? I had not looked for it yet.>

[3SecondCultist]

On the Docks

Jack listens rapturously to Pepper's words as she describes her homeland. His featureless pupils rarely leave her face, and although she can't quite tell where exactly he is staring, it is obvious that she has his undivided attention as they head in search of nourishment. If there is anything that seems to elicit a further reaction from the tailored Stranger, it's the mention of his own past. At the question, he seems to purse his lips... or is he smiling? It's hard to tell precisely which, and the expression changes ever so slightly from moment to moment.

"My own story is hardly so interesting, I'm sorry to say. The land I am from does not have a name in the usual sense. I found my way to these shores some years ago, following a fortune and a desire to leave the place of my birth. There was nothing left for me there, you see. The Akorosi have treated me fairly despite the plight of my eyes. Rackham and Carrolby took me in when I showed some promise, and I have served them faithfully ever since."

There is no mistaking the smile that follows the story. "With a few side projects, of course. A man must have hobbies."


Nyryx's Tale

At first, Jack says nothing. He walks without assistance in the misty, boiling twilit half-dark, his face turned away from his companion and ally. The cane is noticeable in its absence, before it begins to tap once more. "The Fog Hounds... ah yes, the smugglers. I have heard of them, although only vaguely. I'll see what I can dig up on their activities."

Looking back at the prostitute, Jack captures her gaze with a rapturous grin. "Thank you, Nyryx. You have been invaluable of late, and I will not forget the role you've played in recent events."


The Last 10th of the Law

"Gentlemen, Miss Sanden, please have a seat. I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of ordering some hors d'oeuvres. They should be along momentarily." Jack waits quietly for the others to stop their conversations before speaking again. The food is served before too long: groups of assorted seafood with an electroplasmically flavored ice wine. The oysters are served on a bed of black ice. Jack does not partake of the food, explaining to those present that he prefers to prepare most meals himself. He does, however, happily drink the wine.

"Yes, I believe the deal is sound," the man from Charterhall says after some time. "Let my other clients worry about the economic realities of keeping a tub like that above water. Money is always changing hands in this city, as you all well know. This project is favorable to you. If the project falls through, none of us will have lost anything other than an asset that was not performing. And if it performs well... there is a possibility that some of us here will share in the profits."

"In the end, nobody loses. And with the Docker's permission..." Jack echoes Elynn's words from only minute earlier. He raises his glass only after the paperwork has been signed. "To the spirit of cooperation, and the future of Duskwall!"

[Ramsus]

Pepper and Locke

Pepper had not been expecting a ghost at the end of this journey. She blinks and then make a quiet growl to herself, more anger at the unexpected and unpleasant situation than at the ghost in particular, as she slings her rifle off her back. She keeps one eye on the ghost as she works at chambering an electroplasmic round as quickly as she can.

[dojango]

Pepper and Locke

One of the harder things about dealing with ghosts is the lack of facial expressions. It is hard for the living to tell what a ghost is thinking. It merely says, <I believe the phrase was, 'you can never have enough Pepper? You asked for someone to teach you the ways of the world. I need corporeal assistants. My old student sent you. Sacrificing yourself in the name of humanity was once our watchword. I have far too much to do to allow myself to be consigned to oblivion.>

Elynn and Jack

"I take back what I said about lawyers. Well, most of it, I guess." Elynn reaches out to shake Jack's hand after they leave the restaurant. "We may have some jobs for you. Well, maybe for the other guy. Got to talk it over with the guild. I'll keep in touch, Mr. Scrimshaw."

[Elbeyon]

Pepper and Locke

That tell tale sign of a rifle snapping open catches Locke’s ear. She tries to put a hand on the arm Pepper is using to hold the fine looking piece. She says with a lower toned voice, “Don’t shoot him, Pepper. I know this piece of filth. I’ll shoot him myself if necessary. He’s my granddad.”

Pepper gives Locke a look like "Mother****er DO NOT lay your hands on me right now unless you're looking to get shot too" and says with aggressiveness oozing from every pore, "So what? I had to take out one of my grandmother's ghosts. Putting them to rest is a favor." It seems like there's a lot more she could say if this wasn't a tense situation and she felt like sharing.

Steadfast, Locke moves her hand back off Pepper now that she’s stopped loading. “You’re not shooting my ****ing granddad without me finishing my business with him. He is Gary’s teacher. He taught me how to open my eyes. Imagine what he knows. A whisper master is in front of me, and I’ve got a living chance to learn from him. Destroying ghosts may mean more to you than whatever occult you wanted to know from him, but that knowledge is my life. I’ve risked limb and sanity to learn a sliver of the knowledge he promises. He is going to teach me what he knows.”

Pepper just looks at Locke really hard in silence for a few moments before replying, gun still in hand, "Fine. But it's on you to deal with it if he does anything." In truth, Pepper is not really "fine" with the situation at all, but the number of people killing this ghost would piss off that are her allies has grown too high and Locke looks like she'd make it a real problem. One ghost isn't worth that much trouble, especially with a Whisper on side to make sure it's useful instead of dangerous. Despite her words and thoughts, she still hasn't lowered her gun from it's half raised state.

Locke let’s the seriousness of Pepper’s words weigh in before replying. “I’ll shred him in half myself if he so much as causes us a bit of trouble. I can control a single ghost no matter how much danger he poses.” She keeps eyes on Pepper, waiting for her final reply.

Pepper gives Locke a look a dubious look in regards to her supposed prowess, but then gives a nod and slings her gun back onto her back.

[dojango]

Pepper & Locke

There is a long pause. Finally the ghost 'speaks' again. <Drav. Little Drav. I thought you had... well. Well. I was wrong. I am glad to see you have survived. Yes. You know the price we must pay for knowledge. You will make an excellent student. We have much to do, and little time to do it. If your friend requires assurances, I shall give it.> The ghost floats down to one of the slabs and taps it with an ethereal foot. <Pry this up and take it with you. Take a handful of dirt from beneath it. That will be my surety, my bond. And... it would be best if you returned my mask to its bearer. It has a geas on it. It will protect her. Return to her, if it must.>

[Elbeyon]

Pepper & Locke

Locke takes her gloves off and breaths on her hands. "Well, yeah, I thought you died. Turns out you did. It's been too long." Ghosts aren't so lightly trusted. A hand near her pouches, she walks over to the slab, digs around it with her foot, and bends down to dig it up. She flips a flap on her waist and puts her mask on while facing away from the street. She awakens herself to compare the dirt and the ghost, and check the slab and fill a pouch full with the dirt.

Attune
[roll0]

Do these objects hold power over this ghost?

[dojango]

Pepper & Locke

As Locke stares intently at the slab, she sees that it reads, "Hector Kendall. 532-585. Husband. Father. Hero". She picks up the handful of dirt, looks at it with her arcane sight. Faint tendrils seep from the ghost's feet, like roots. They rest in the dirt. This does have a power over the ghost, although perhaps not as strong as legends would have you believe. The ghost looks at Locke as she does this. It holds up its hands, and ethereal manacles appear on them, for a moment.

[Elbeyon]

Locke unmasks herself, tucks the slab under her arm, and walks back to Pepper. "There, he wasn't lying. I already had a handle on him, and he has surrender further to us. Let's bag him and take him to the ship. I've got some personal questions he needs to answer, and you can get him out of your sight."

[Ramsus]

Pepper & Locke

"Right." Pepper replies, a bit uncomfortable still as she takes the mask from the ghost.
The exact same word and tone is repeated as an answer to Locke a few moments later.

If it's on the way, Pepper makes sure they take the mask back to the kid the lent it to her and thanks her. If not, she does so later as soon as she has some free time. Either way, the thanks is given masking her trepidation about this whole affair as much as possible.

If on the way back Locke get tired of carrying the slab on her own, Pepper will offer to take turns carrying it. Despite that offer she'll seem reluctant to touch it every time.

[dojango]

Ghost on the Anglerfish
https://i.imgur.com/lnXZlJr.jpg

Once you release the ghost back on the ship, it floats around, carefully inspecting the vessel. <A fine ship> it declares. <The old Chatham boilers are rated for 200 psi, but I wouldn't push them past 180, unless you're eager to join me.> It makes himself at home in the salon, manifesting illusionary bottles and glasses, pouring drinks and pretending to smoke a pipe. There it is more than happy to regale the crew with stories of commanding soldiers and some of the arcane secrets its learned over the years, although it occasionally adopts the condescending attitude of a bored professor. It also mentions, somewhat ruefully, that all the arcane and military power in the world can be useless if you can't make friends and influence people. It is willing to share some of the lessons it learned so painfully. The ghost doesn't seem too concerned about its imprisonment, although it does try to keep Salt as far away from it as possible.

[Ramsus]

Ghost on the Anglerfish

Pepper instructs Salt not to attack their friendly ghost and to keep menacing and chasing to a minimum.

[dojango]

https://i.imgur.com/Q6QTfl1.jpg

The Meeting

There is an etiquette to underworld deals; much like there is an etiquette to the boardrooms or the halls of the nobility. When neutral or potentially hostile parties meet, the first party proposes a meeting and the number of attendants. The second party decides the time and place of the meeting. The proposing party is the one allowed to arrive first. And so it goes with your proposed meeting with Mylera Klev. A description of the artifacts for sale is enough to elicit a reply. There is no commitment in terms of price or sale, but she agrees to meet in an neutral spot and inspect the goods. The messenger, a slim man with a chipped tooth and a lopsided grin returns with her offer. "Silk is the best time to cherish art. If we agree, we may celebrate in wine. We can meet two days hence."

[Ramsus]

As soon as they get off their sailboat, Pepper scouts the area for any potential traps or ambushes. Then she looks around for a place, preferably higher up, with good sight-lines on the entire area. If possible the spot would be easy enough for her to hide in and use as a sniping perch if violence breaks out.

[dojango]

The Meet
https://i.imgur.com/whQ8Re8.png

The moon is just rising as the crew leaves the docks. It hangs low in the sky, a red glowing grin looking down on the city. Strange red lights flicker on the darkened disc of the moon. The devils are dancing tonight, as the saying goes. Hoisting the sail, you head upriver towards the meeting place. Suddenly, from out of one of the smaller docks, a steam launch bears down on you. "Prepare for inspection!" a voice shouts out. The crates of art are safely hidden away in the cabin, and your holds are empty, so the inspection isn't terribly dangerous. Just inconvenient. The Bluecoat leading the boarding party contentedly puffs on his pipe while two underlings open up the hatches of the cargo holds, shining their lights into the empty darkness. "All clear, boss!" they say. The leading Bluecoat nods. "Stay out of trouble, y'hear? Anyone ask you to carry anything weird, you let us know, alright?" The steam launch disappears into the darkness, heading to inspect another ship sailing down the river.

Unfortunately, this delay means that the crew doesn't arrive at the meeting spot as early as they'd like. They dock at one of the small piers that serves the farms. A good place to unload nightsoil, or pick up food destined for the city. While the other three wrestle the crates up out of the hold, Pepper lopes off into the darkness to spot potential dangers. Time is slipping by, so her survey is likely to have more limited results than it otherwise would...

[Ramsus]

-Flashback to the previous day-
Pepper walks around the area and checks out the sight-lines and any signs that anyone has been here before her to set up any traps. She uses her spyglass to check distances and really take the time to figure out the best perch for when they return the next day.
-Back to the present-
Pepper checks again for ambushes and traps, because they could be new. And in case anyone is watching today that wasn't yesterday they won't know that she's checked out any places she didn't take the time to today.


0 Stress Flashback to Set Up self.
Set Up for Improved Effect.
Survey: [roll0]

[dojango]

The Day before

Pepper takes some time to scout out the proposed meeting site. The pumphouse, while offering elevation and concealment, is too far away to be of much use. The fog and gloom limits her visibility. Closer up, the crest of the riverbank offers some good vantage points towards the meeting site, and is also closer to the boat if a quick escape is needed. Closer in, there are a few clusters of bushes that might serve as a vantage point, with the closer range making it easier to see the meeting place. But it also makes it easier for someone to potentially spot her. Along the road there are ditches filled with stagnant water. It would be unpleasant to lie down there, and she would be visible from anyone travelling along the road. Out in the fields, the ripening crops do offer some concealment, but black & white clad inmate work gangs are there tending the crops. She can see a gang out in the distance, sullenly working under the oversight of a shotgun-toting Ironhook warden.

The day of the meeting

The area is dimly lit under the electric haze of the city. The moon's strange glow casts a reddish hue on the night. Pepper prowls around in the gloom once more, hurriedly checking the best sniper spots she saw the other day. They are much as she remembers them. Although, there are fresh tracks in the ground by them. Someone has passed by here more recently than she did. Using her spyglass, she checks her surroundings. There is another work-gang in the fields, laboring under the pallid light of the radiant trees. She also sees a figure heading towards the pumphouse.

[n0ble]

Willix abandoned the crates. Quite frankly if anyone could move such a thing so heavy then they deserved whatever was inside. Besides, moving things was beneath him. That was what servants were for.

He sighed as it seemed as though no one else would approach the house. He briefly considered crawling on his stomach,then thought better of it when he pictured himself getting caught in such a position. “Mm. Ridiculous…” As he got up Wick cricked his neck back and forth. Why was it that everytime he needed to smoke he found himself in a situation where taking a drag was less than optimal. Perhaps there would be time for some during the meeting.

He turned to Pepper and her rifle, a content sneer on his face. He spoke a bit slower than usual, just to make sure she understood his Akorosi. “Just remember, they keep the sights on top for a reason.” He didn’t wait for a reply, instead turning to leave as silently as he could manage towards the shack.


Pushing for two stress to get an extra dice on a Prowl Roll

Wick will try and Prowl across the field to get to the shack: [roll0]

[Ramsus]

As Wick walks away thinking he's so superior, Pepper also doesn't say anything. Because she's busy picking a nearby rock. When she's found the right one she throws it at the back of Wick's head hard enough to hurt but not to really harm him. If he turns around to look at her, she'll have gotten her rifle back up and pointing at him and be giving him a mirror image of the sneer he gave her a few moments ago.

[3SecondCultist]

On the Water

"Officers!" Jack says with a wide grin as the boat is approached for a cursory inspection. "How are you doing this evening? Is there a problem? I can assure you that our cargo is secure, unlike just about any boat on these waters I found myself a quartermaster I can trust! In fact, I have the paperwork here, in triplicate..." as he deals with the Bluecoats, the blind lawyer makes a signal to the others to get underway. The forms he's written up - entirely legitimate in their own right, even if they do not necessarily apply to all of the cargo - should at least put off their attentions and allow them to pass through the inspection more than quickly enough.


Approaching the Site

"Now, now." Jack says with a small smile as he catches the rock out of mid-air with almost preternatural reflexes. He turns around to look at Pepper with something akin to wry amusement or perhaps disappointment, although the ever-blank eyes reveal nothing. "That's just poor manners, my dear. If I need to be the intermediary between the two of you, I shall. Nevertheless, I must commend you on your aim."

Seeing Wick head out, Jack continues to follow his tracks. The scouting of the area proceeds apace.

Taking a Flashback action to try and Sway past the obstacle of the Bluecoat inspection. I'll roll Sway here, just plain standard. Let me know if I need to take a point of Stress (I personally don't think so, given he would have had to do literally zero prep outside of the documentation which I had already planned to have).

Sway: [roll0]

[dojango]

At the inspection

The Bluecoat leading the search party looks briefly at the papers and brusquely brushes them aside. "Papers don't always seem to say much, you know?" he says, fixing the crew with a cold stare. The searchers don't find anything, of course, because the holds are empty, but the Bluecoat eyes the party suspiciously for a moment before giving the all clear.

Scouting out the meeting

Wick and Ifriti head towards the pumphouse, where the figure was retreating to. Although the gloom does offer some concealment, the cleared ground around the area does not. A figure wearing the dirty work-tunic of an engineer stares suspiciously at them as they approach. "Clear off," he says. "This is.... wait. You're those guys. You're supposed to be meeting with the bosslady. What're you doing here?" Wick and Ifriti notice the rifle leaning against the door. The man doesn't reach for it, but he does edge slightly closer to it...

[n0ble]

Wick sighed as the man keyed in on them. He slowly took his hands out of his pocket and into the air. He kept them at about shoulder level and tried to relax a bit. There were always things in his jacket for when things inevitably went wrong. His tone was even as he spoke. Instead it was slow, measured and monotone. "No harm meant. Here for business." He idly pictured sticking a grenade to the mans belt with some binding oil. The resulting riot of colors would be pretty but the noise...He made a note to design some sort of silent bio-grenade when the opportunity presented itself before tearing his mind affair from dreaming and back to the present scene before him.

The man at the door was still ugly and reeked of piss while Scrimshaw had yet to have spoken. Wick sighed again, more to himself than out loud. He looked to Scrimshaw expectantly.


Taking 1 stress to assist Jack's roll via appearing non threatening.

[Ramsus]

Sitre was just going back to her apartment after teaching her last class for the day when a Cypher brought her a message from Elynn that a group of people who had just come in to some items could use an appraiser and perhaps a negotiator for selling said goods. His message also noted that amongst those goods was a book on the list she'd asked him to keep an eye out for.
It was this last part that actually garnered her interest. She sent the Cypher back with a message that she would accept his offer.

The next day, Ifriti was brought aboard the Anglerfish by Elynn and introduced briefly before she went to examine the goods. It turned out to be a more interesting collection than she'd thought and certain items were going to take longer to appraise than the group wished to wait before making a sale of at least some of them. Which was fine, offloading all this at once to the same buyer would have been fairly difficult.
She told them that she'd had prior experience with the Red Sashes who would be interested in a variety of the goods since they had a love of artwork as well. One item among the artwork she wasn't quite sure if they would be interested in or offended by. So she suggested to the group that she be the one to do the negotiating. For of course, a doubling of her fee for her services and a cut of the profits if she arranged a good deal.
There was some negotiating and an agreement was reached, so she then reached out to the Red Sashes.

"As my companion says, we were given this general area as our meeting place and we saw some movement over here and came to see what was what." Ifriti says, trying to be disarming.


Not sure if this is Consort or Sway. They're both 2 so... *shrug*

[roll0]

[dojango]

At the pumphouse

The man stares suspiciously at Wick and Ifriti for a moment more, and then says, "Suppose there's no harm in you scoutin' around. Just here for backup, make sure there's no funny business. You'd best hurry back, though, Miss Klev's comin', and she don't like waiting..." sure enough, coming down the road you can dimly see a coach being pulled by four goats. It's moving at a leisurely pace, but still faster than a walk. If the two scoundrels don't hustle back to the meeting place, they'll be late, which could certainly start the meeting off on the wrong foot.

[Ramsus]

"Yes of course. Glad to know you're watching our backs." Ifriti says, giving the impression that she thinks "oh of course you're here to protect both sides from outside threats, not your side from us". If that disarms him of considering their group is a threat, great. If it makes him more alert to outside threats, also great. Then she walks back at a quick pace to make sure they're at the meeting spot on time.

[dojango]

The Meet

The meeting place is a turnout beside the road. Unmemorable, except for a statue of a long-forgotten imperial of some sort. There is a small watering-trough filled with a few inches of unpleasant-looking water. On one side of the road are the fields in the radiant farms, while on the other are the scrubby dunes of the riverbank. Pepper is safely concealed in a spot overlooking the meeting place. All is quiet in the gloom, although in the middle distance a black & white clad chain gang is moving through the fields doing... something agricultural, no doubt.

The crew hustles back to the meeting area so as not to be late. Perhaps seeing this, the coach slows slightly, allowing them to arrive first, by moments. The coach door opens, and out steps a stern, bulky-looking man. He is wearing a cuirass over his rough clothes. Over it is a red sash. He is armed with a pistol and an Iruvian dueling sabre. He glares at each of you for a few moments, and then looks over the meeting place. Seeing it to his satisfaction, he nods an assent, and Mylera Klev steps out. She is an athletic woman, with traces of grey in her dark hair. She wears a red sash with traces of gold filigree in it, and is armed with a sabre as well. After her, comes out an older woman, in a simple dress. She has a spirit mask tucked in her belt, and a small dagger. The bodyguard pulls a folding table and chair from the back of the coach and sets it up. Once done, he steps back, and leans against the statue, watching each of you and the surroundings intently. The coachman, a figure wearing a black hooded cape, detaches the goats from the coach and leads them off to graze from the nearby bushes. Mylera sits at the table (there is only one chair), while her whisper stands behind her, looking off into the middle distance. She looks at the party and says, "So. There are some new art dealers in town? And you have something to show me? I am always on the lookout for new bargains. What do you have?"

[Ramsus]

Ifriti stands across the table from Mylera and opens with a bit of Iruvian. <"Warm greetings countryman!">* Then switches back to Akorosi, "A pleasure to see you again." She has no doubt Mylera would remember her. Not due to any significance of their previous interaction, just because she doubts anyone is ever going to forget her outfit and she wore this same one last time they met.
She turns to look at Wick and asks, "Would you characterize yourselves as art dealers?" Before Wick can say anything she shrugs and goes back to speaking to Mylera.
"I have drawn up a list of what they have for sale. Of particular note is an item I'm not sure if you'll be interested in. A relic celebrating Iruvia's entry into the empire." She then hands over the list and points to the last item on it, which is the statue she mentioned.

((*This is something a common Iruvian light jesting greeting being used for additional humor given the location. The joke being that all greetings in Iruvia are warm in the physical sense. The additional joke being that this is Duskwall which is decided not a warm place.))

[n0ble]

Wick waited till the new hire was done talking, then calmly replied to her question. He looked past the whisperess at Klev and found her more attractive than the new recruit. Well either of the new recruits. Which made for the Dagger Islander in the middle. Mm.<We export. Art is within our...portfolio.> He inclined his head down in a slight bow of respect. His face settled into a conservative smile as his mind balanced thoughts of negotiations with those of the Dagger Islander in the middle. Then the Skovlander started speaking...



Skannon had his hands stuffed in his trench-coat pockets and was looking down at everyone, though not to condescend. His proportions allowed for little else but that and idly kicking a little at the ground. He looked at the art-woman's bodyguard and had himself a good long think about how he'd look after Skannon took the hammer to his skull. He thought was snuffed out in it's infancy when the wiry man and woman started chattering. Even after all these years Akorosi still had new words for Skannon to learn. Trying to learn desert-talk was both beyond and beneath a man of his age.

While everyone else had to the hut, Skannon had stayed behind and, seeing that no one had brought a stool to sit on, lugged along after unloading the last of the cargo. As such, he planted it on the ground once the whisperer was done talking. Much as he'd like to have smashed the Redclad's teeth in, Skannon was smart enough to know that the situation required a light touch. Much like working at the slaughterhouse. Perhaps some humour to defuse things. His voice ground out a few words, "Is Duskvol, ja? We speak Akorosi." Skannon smiled good natured-ly. His teeth were a healthy shade of pink.


Set up action with Skannon.
Gonna consort as a set up action on negotiations: [roll0]

[dojango]

"It's been far too many decades since I graced the shores of warm Iruvia," says Mylera. "I appreciate the effort, but even now, I dream in Akorosi. Let us see what you have." Mylera checks the list. "I would need to inspect the items first, naturally. To see them with my own eyes. And her eyes. I assume you checked them for danger already, but it never hurts to have a second opinion. I recall you saying that once. If you are correct, this might be one of Mehra Guar's works? Or a copy of it. If I had such a piece in my collection, some of the more... outspoken types would be offended. But I know some people who might be willing to display it. If you are ready for a sale, bring the items up so I can see them. If everything is as you say... perhaps [six coin] for the lot?"

[Ramsus]

We flash back to an earlier moment on the steamboat. Pepper leads Ifriti to where they have the jewelry and the artwork laid out ready for Ifriti's inspection. There are also the two books Elynn mentioned Ifriti wanted as part of her fee.
Ifriti quickly snatches the books up, practically clutching them to her chest.

"What's so special about those two anyhow?" Pepper asks curiously.
Ifriti, with a coy smile on her face behind the mask replies, "I'm hoping they'll whisper a few little secrets in my ear."
Pepper looks blankly at Ifriti not getting the pun as she's still not used to the Akorosi term.
There is a moment of awkward looking at each other expecting the other to react in some way.
Ifriti sighs and says, "Right then. Time to work." and moves over to inspect first the jewelry and she asks Pepper to fetch a lamp so she can examine them in detail better. While she waits she examines things in the ghost field to make sure nothing is dangerous or too useful to be selling.


Study: [roll0]

[dojango]

Appraising the items

The items already identified as resonating in the ghost field have been safely stowed away in a secured and warded cabin for further study. Ifriti examines the art with her arcane senses once again, to confirm that these are mundane objects. Nothing. Next step is to find their true value. The paintings are the most valuable of the items, given their age, but Ifriti knows that mere monetary value is almost impossible to calculate for works of art. After all, what might be a trite collectable to one person might be an object of obsession to another. For example, the statue "Iruvia and Akoros married by victory" would earn you a sound thrashing if you showed it to Iruvian rebels, while an Imperial loyalist would pay well to display it. Someone with the right connections and contacts would probably be know how to get the most out of the objects, but that would take months, if not years. And most reputable art dealers tend to ask annoying questions like, "where was this acquired from? And has the Imperial excise tax on imported artwork been paid?" Mylera, on the other hand, doesn't worry about such trivial matters, and is apparently willing to buy the whole stock at once. In normal circumstances you would expect the art dealer to pay about [10 coin] for the works, but you may need to accept a discount given the ah, unlawful and secret nature of the works.

[Ramsus]

Ifriti looks over at the member of the Anglers she hasn't yet been introduced to who brought over the stool and says with appreciation, "Of course. Thank you." in reply and sits upon the stool as she begins haggling with Mylera.
"Well that's a good opener.... for those who don't know the real value of some of these. We both know these, through regular channels, could go for upwards of ten coin. But things being as they are and you being a valued friend, and of course the lack of taxes and questions, I wouldn't dare ask for such a price. But, I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't at least ask for a more respectable sum." And so on it goes for a bit.
At some point Mylera's counter-offer includes the Anglers (phrased as "you" making the group include Ifriti) doing a job for her, in a way that doesn't sound like refusing that part of the deal being a very healthy idea and so Ifriti doesn't even try getting out of that. Though she would give Wick and the other man a look and a shrug, hoping they just go along with it without objecting.


Improved Effect from Sledge's Set Up
Devil's Bargain that we have to do a job for Mylera
Consort/Sway: [roll0]
I'm thinking if this goes real well we get 9 Coin?

[Ramsus]

As the group unloads the crates per Mylera's request, Pepper keeps her eyes open for trouble. It's fairly clear at this point that any threat would come from something other than the Red Sashes as the others would be very unlikely to agree to go to this much trouble if they were concerned about that.

From the waters, a pair of eyes belonging to Salt watch as well and keeping unseen even to the point of having to ignore that delicious eel that just swam by.


Group action Survey lead by Sledge.

Pepper: [roll0]

Salt: [roll1]

[dojango]

Mylera and Ifriti haggle over the proposed artwork. After a few minutes, Mylera finally says, "I would be more than happy to inspect your offering. If it is genuine..." she pauses, as if contemplating the fate of those who waste her time with non-genuine offers... "I would be willing to lay out [9 COIN] as an offering. As a favor to our newest friends in the art business."

Mylera nods to her bodyguard, who carefully moves one of the crates next to her. He pries off the lid. The older woman puts on her spirit mask, bends low, and peers intently at the crate for a few minutes. "All clear, mamzel," she says, stepping back and taking up a position behind the Mylera's chair. Mylera puts on a pair of silk gloves and begins pulling items out of crate. The coachman brings an electroplasm light from the coach and places it on the table. Next he takes a tarp from the ground and places it next to the table. Mylera peers at the art intently, turning them over in the light. Every so often she mutters something to herself, before laying out the items on the tarp.

"Well, these appear to be genuine! I knew I could rely on you, Ifriti. I see you have a fine ship at your disposal, now. I may have another project for you, soon. Nothing too outlandish, but I need some reliable outsiders. Hack, bring us my papers. And some wine, to seal the deal."

The coachman reaches into the coach and brings out a paper and lays it on the table in front of Mylera, who begins writing on it. Then the coachman goes to the coach and brings out a bottle and four glasses. He pours a measure of wine into each one. Mylera finishes writing and says, "Sign here, Ifriti. And you two. Your real names, please."

The scroll is embellished with a fine printed design; the seal of the Merchant Bank on the top, and elaborate scrollwork on the borders. The scroll reads, "I, Mylera Klev, in the presence of Salim Tarhaz, instruct my agents at the Mansfield & Hunter Merchant Exchange to pay out from my accounts the sum of [9 COIN] upon delivery of this receipt from the undersigned bearers." There is a blank space for your signatures.

[Ramsus]

Ifriti looks up sharply at Mylera when she says "real name". Then she tilts her head to the side in a gesture that might express something like "Really, you're offering me a cut of this money in exchange for information you could use to majorly mess with my life any time you want?"
Then, not really expecting any kind of response and a bit afraid of what one might be to that technically unasked question, she examines the papers to see if there's anything going on in the magical sense that actually requires they use their real names.

[Ramsus]

Seeing that there was nothing magical going on, Ifriti's first thought was to tell her clients, and now new crew through rather unforeseen circumstances, that they didn't actually have to sign their real names. Her next thought was more in line with her manipulative nature. She didn't know anything about these people and what kind of operation they were running. But if she learned their real names she might have some leverage. Sure it meant Mylera would gain it too, but she would be in better position to use it and able to use it for her safety... and to fulfill her own desires. Now she was thinking it was a shame Pepper wasn't down here too.

So she says nothing at to them, not wanting to say "it's safe" since technically that wasn't really true, and thought momentarily on what to put down as a false name. Something easy to remember. So she signs the paper with the alliterative and not unbelievable name of Kamala Khan.

[n0ble]

Skannon kept his eye's pealed. Well, not actually peeled. Taking something's eyelids took time and effort and a great deal of things that Skannon lacked the patience for. Yet even so he looked around.

The Red-woman's words snapped him from his look about. Skannon mulled her words over about as carefully as one might enter the pen of a Blackvale moutain ram. He shrugged. Anyone who would be trouble from it would know where to find him, and if they knew where to find him then that meant he knew where to expect them. He looked at the bodyguard and smiled again, before lumbering over to the table, past Ifiriti and to the other woman. For a brief moment Skannon was struck by how well she wore the red. How it clung to her figure in just. The right. Way. She was quite a bit easier to look at then what Skannon found himself used to. He signed his name in big, childlike scrawl. It was also in Skovish.

Skannon Harrow

"We are being in business now, ja?" In spite of the man's appearance his voice was friendly and welcoming. For [9 coin] he'd could be anyone's friend. Well, almost anyones After signing his name he moved to let the thin man come up to sign.The gun woman not being here was not problem. If anything it meant others could hold it over her head. Not that Skannon cared much to.


Survey roll, leading the group action: [roll0]



Wicked moved past the skovlander and signed his name quickly and in elegant cursive. Under other circumstances he would have positively exulted in dressing someone down by alerting them to who he was. If some small time Iruvians wanted to try and blackmail one of the Six, then so be it. Let them. But then, as he bent over at the waist to sign, Willix's mind conjured images of the First & Second, both of their faces write large with disapproval. It was enough to make write this down instead:

Roeth Walund

Otherwise he put as much distance between himself, the skovlander and Klev's bodyguard. He'd no idea as to what would set such men off, but Willix was certain that, should it come to it, he'd like to be as far away from either individual as much as possible. That way he could retreat back to Peppers position if need be. Probably through a hail of her gunfire, by Scurlock's Gate. Then he could dose anyone the skov and iruvian hadn't mopped up with some more skullfire. If it came down to it, of course...

[dojango]

The Deal is struck!

Mylera Klev shrugs when Ifriti mentions her qualms about the name. "The bank's rules, not mine. This is easier than carting around the coin, no?" Once the three scoundrels have signed their name, Mylera rolls the scroll up and hands it to Ifriti. "The main bank's main branch is in charterhall, near the Iruvian embassy, but they have an office in the docks as well. My man will come to you in a week or so with the other little job. I look forward to doing business with you again." She turns to the two men. "Hack, Karm, pack up the crates. Let's go."

As Pepper scans the meet, it seems like everything is finished, although oddly enough, no coin has changed hands. Idly she sees a movement in the distance... the work crew has been slowly making its way towards the group, doing... something agricultural, presumably. There are a dozen men, plus the warden. The warden doesn't seem to be watching the gang, though. He is watching your group. He suddenly waves his hand and points towards the group. The work gang looks up, grabs their tools, and with a hoarse yell, charges! The warden picks his rifle up and is aiming it towards your allies...

Sledge steps back from the table after signing. He looks around, sees that the work crew is a lot closer than it was when they started the meeting. Strange. And then he hears the old Skovish war-cry, as they charge towards the meet, waving knives and axes... the faster ones outpace the slower ones, and you realize they aren't chained up like a work gang should be...

The coachman and the bodyguard turn towards the art, to begin putting it away. The coachman is bending to pick something up when the bodyguard looks up in alarm. "<Trouble! Mylera, get down!>" he shouts in Iruvian, drawing his sabre and moving to stand in front of Mylera.

https://i.imgur.com/wHk39aF.png

[Ramsus]

As the work crew advances, Pepper lets out a whistle. A moment later Salt leaps up out of the ditch and gives a reptilian roar to send shivers down their spines. As their heads turn to face this unexpected threat, Pepper fires at the warden not even considering trying to aim for a non-lethal shot.


Salt does a Set Up for Improved Position: [roll0]
Pepper fires at the warden with her Fine Rifle (Improved Effect). Hunt: [roll1]
Edit: Whoops, did the rolling wrong. Fortunately we can tell the result was a 5 and a 6. So yay, 6!

[dojango]

The bodyguard steps in front of Mylera as the whisper and the coachman look up in confusion. Their confusion is amplified when a crocodile suddenly leaps out of the muddy ditch by the road, roaring at the work crew. A few of them pause for a moment. The warden with his rifle, swings it towards the crocodile, and them back to the group. There is a loud 'crack' and a plume of white smoke from Pepper's concealed position. In the distance, the warden jerks back and falls to the ground, his rifle beside him. The thugs give out another cry in Skovish and charge the position, although two of them cautiously circle around Salt. While Salt roars defiantly at one, the other manages to sneak in a glancing blow against Salt's hide with his axe. She roars in pain, suffering from a nasty gash in her hide.

Back at the coach, Mylera looks up at the plume of smoke, and frowns. "Your insurance, I hope?"

[n0ble]

Skannon’s eyes narrowed as familiar cries entered his ears. He took his hands out from their pockets and directed them to where the old friend on his back typically rested. <Ah. I hadn't realized you were so close. I would have looked for you sooner otherwise.> As his hands closed around the driftwood handle, his face broke out into another pink toothed grin. The head of the hammer was flecked with rust, he’d not had a chance to lubricate it at the slaughterhouse for quite some time.

The wiry man had noticeably blanched at the approach of the workcrew. Skannon turned his smile onto the Leech. He put a hand on the man’s shoulder and he visibly flinch. “I would not be worrying yourself friend, is just being Skovish foreplay, ja?” Having said all he wanted to with words, Skannon hefted his hammer onto one shoulder and then began to stroll towards the workgang with patience appropriate to a man of his age. He struck up a jaunty humming tune, even though he was fairly certain no one else could hear him over the enemies yelling. As the first of the meat came forward Skannon’s face contorted into a mad rictus as he took the hammer from where it rested and brought it down with both hands at the man’s skull.


Gonna mark off that fine heavy weapon for 2-load (if i didn't mention it before btw, Skannon has medium)
Gonna push for an extra dice on roll to skirmish [roll0] with the work gang.

[dojango]

Sledge steps into the oncoming assailants and swings his hammer down. He hits the leading thug in the shoulder with a satisfying crunch. He goes down, screaming, and the others hesitate for a moment. But three of the them circle Skannon with the practiced ease of warriors. He can't fend off all their blows, and one of them lands a solid hit on Skannon's side, leaving him badly winded...

Nearer to the coach, the black-cloaked coachman coolly draws a pistol from his belt and shoots at one of the thugs. The man clutches at his wound, arm hanging limply from his side. The bodyguard draws his sword and begins fighting with several more thugs. He is able to hold them off, for now, but they too try to flank him, pressing him back.

One of the assailants shouts out in Skovish, "Uncle, avenge yourself", and throws something towards the coach. It cracks open as it hits the side, and the air grows colder and darker as a shadowy figure billows out. There is a loud shriek as you realize an angry ghost is in your midst.

The gang breaks! 2/8. The Red Sashes break! 1/6. Skannon takes a level 1 harm, "winded" unless he resists or uses armor. There is also a ghost coalescing near where Ifriti, Wick, Mylera and the other whisper are.

[Ramsus]

Ifriti looks around as the fighting starts, a man already being dead before she even knew they were in trouble. She thinks to herself, "Glad that didn't happen to our side."
Then she looks around wondering what to do. With the goods around and allies all around, calling upon her more offensive powers seems like a poor idea and unfortunately she's not a skilled combatant, what with spending all her time with old tomes and scrolls. Something she thinks to herself that she needs to fix quickly if she's going to be spending a lot of time with these sorts of people.
And then the enemies threw a ghost right in front of her. Not being at all phased by a single ghost now that she's been in this crazy city for long enough to get used to them, she mentally thanks their opponents for providing her something to do that proves her worth to her new group and their allies rather than having to just hide or do something that might result in her just looking foolish or hurting herself.

She whips the lightning hook off her back and extends it. The wire loop crackles with energy and there's a faint ozone smell in the air. "Don't get used to the fresh air." she snarks at the ghost as she attempts to capture it.


Attune with Fine Lightning Hook (Improved Position) and a spirit bottle: [roll0]

[dojango]

As Ifriti reaches out with her lightning hook, the ghost screeches in frustration, and drifts back. The other whisper holds out her arms, as if to embrace the ghost, and begins singing a lullaby to it. Seeing that the two whispers have the ghost under control, the fighters carry on with their deadly work, unafraid.

The ghost is stronger than Ifriti anticipates, though. It appears to be drawing in power, readying itself to attack. The other whisper says, "He's feeding it power! I'll distract the ghost, you take care of the enemy whisper!"

[Ramsus]

Pepper's first instinct for her next shot is to help out Salt after seeing her get a bit hurt. But she knows Salt will pull through the situation a lot better than those idiots who decided to get up close to her crocodile, so she scans the melee for more vital targets. Sledge is in a three on one fight, but he also looks like he's enjoying himself and she'd hate to ruin his fun. Mylera's bodyguard on the other hand seems like they're about to be overwhelmed. She sees the ghost and the maybe a Whisper as well, but the two other Whispers seem like they're currently handling that situation. She'll certainly get back to it if it looks like they're really having trouble.
So she shoots into the group around Mylera's bodyguard.


Pepper Hunt with Fine Rifle (Improved Effect): [roll0]

[n0ble]

Willix forced himself to look away from the gathering horror near the coach and looked towards the melee instead. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, then his voice rose an octave, and he had to physically fight down his pitch becoming a bit shrill. “This is why everyone ****ing hates Skovs!” All they ever seemed to do was complicate things. Ghost appears? Skovlander. Ensuing brawl that could have been handled LITERALLY any other way? Skovlander. Bonechanter cadre sinks a naval vessel? Skovlanders. The help complains? Willix would bet his entire formula booklet that it was Klaudia who’d gone and told the Second of his advances. His brow furrowed into a look of concentration.“Mmph!”

Thoughts of home were scant comfort amidst the injured mans wailing. Willix sighed to himself then withdrew a globe of skullfire poison from the bandolier in his jacket and lobbed it at the messy looking brawl.


Marking off a bandolier, skull fire poison and alcahest for Wick, along with one stress for a flashback to have given Skannon some alcahest.

Set up action (I'm assuming it's tinker like last time): [roll0]





Skannon grunted as his arms absorbed the shock of the impact. His aim had been off and somehow that made him madder than the club that tickled at his ribs.Then he was amongst them yelling and snorting and stomping and swinging his hammer in great circles. Rather than seeing red like usual, Skannon found a blue haze settling over his eyes. "Heh" Though seeming not possible, the big man grinned all the wider. He flared his nostrils and drank in the poison. It smelled of Lockport. Of home <-ust when I am thinking you are most useless **** in fight you bring me keepsake thin man!> He stepped back from the melee, then withdrew and smashed the vial of curatives into his forehead in one sooth motion. It took the burn away. Skannon let out a mad howl and swung his hammer again , aiming for the face of the man who’d tried to hurt him before.



Skirmish roll to try and break the attackers, following through on Wick's setup action:

(extra dice from devils bargain where the violence is so frightening that it fills in a slice of "The Red Sashes Break)

[roll1]

Edit: The number of fives rolled this game...

[Ramsus]

As Sledge continues the attack against their opponents, Salt continues to occupy her fair share and pay them back for their kicks with bites to the legs since they were foolish enough to offer them to her so readily.


Salt is participating in a group action lead by Sledge and Set Up by Wick.
[roll0]

[dojango]

Pepper quickly and efficiently reloads her rifle, and then fires at one of the combatants. Whether it's from less time to aim, or from a desire not to hit one of her new-found allies, the shot takes one of the assailants in the shoulder, instead of the head. He drops his weapon, turns and points towards where Pepper is hiding and yells something. The bodyguard takes advantage of the respite to press his assailants back, while the coachman expertly finishes reloading his pistol. He aims at the melee, trying to figure out who to shoot next. He and Mylera look around to where Sledge is fighting...

Wick's globe lands behind where Sledge is fighting. Two of the thugs breathe in the fumes, while the third backs off in surprise. Sledge also breathes in the Skullfire poison for a moment before downing his alcahest. His stomach roils and churns at the brief dose he received, although the antidote prevents him from being harmed further. The two dosed assailants are not so lucky. They fall back, clutching their heads. Sledge takes the opportunity to ruthlessly knock down the man who had hurt him, and takes his time making sure he dies painfully. The unaffected assailant watches in horror, before backing off and running away, while the Red Sashes hesitate, shocked his cruelty.

Salt, on the other hand, is left alone against her two assailants. They hack and jab at her, not finding any purchase. But neither does she as she snaps back at them. The whisper stands alone by the side of the road, concentrating on the ghost. He suddenly flinches as a bullet flashes by, inches from his face. There is a sharp crack and a puff of smoke from the direction of the pumphouse. "<Stop ****ing around and kill them," he shouts out in Skovish.>" There is a shrill edge to his voice. For a moment, his control on the ghost slips.

They break: 6/8, the Red Sashes break, 3/6

[Ramsus]

Since she was asked to deal with the enemy Whisper feeding power, Ifriti decides to do just that. As she momentarily thinks on exactly how to do that, the word "feed" sticks in her mind and she has a devilish idea.
Ifriti turns to face the enemy Whisper and attunes. In his, also attuning sight, he would see her eyes flare up into spouts of flame as well as flickering flames dancing all over her body to some strange rhythm. Almost as if to some unheard music.
She reaches her hands out in his direction as if she were trying to physically grab onto the power he is sending the ghost. Then she sharply wrenches her hands to the left over towards Salt as she tries to redirect the flow of ethereal energy to the ghost eating croc that thanks to it's unnatural nature will be able to receive it, or at least feed off of it.


Ifriti Attune: [roll0]

[dojango]

Ifriti tries to wrestle with the aethyric torrents. Under ideal conditions, this would be a daunting task, but while a melee rages around her and a ghost is trying to feed on her very essence, it proves too much. There is an arcane backlash that sends her sprawling, dazing and deafening her senses. The other whisper is also caught in the backlash, and loses her concentration. The ghost, free to move once again, leaps at the coachman, trying to sink its ethereal claws into his soul. The coachman shrieks and waves, dropping his gun as the ghost attempts to feed on his very soul...

[dojango]

Sledge laughs as he brutally kills one of the attackers. He turns to the other disabled man, and brings down his hammer on the stricken man's head. "I got the cure for your headache right here," he shouts. By the coach, the bodyguard takes advantage of his assailant's distraction, and skewers one with his sword. The other, seeing the tides turn, runs away, leaving his wounded comrades behind.

Mylera has her sword out in a flash, at the neck of the wounded man. "Drop your weapon and you may yet see the snows of home," she says, in Skovish. He complies, a decision he probably will regret for the rest of his life. With 4 men dead, and two badly wounded, the enemy is broken. The four healthy men run as fast as their legs can take them, while the wounded man limps away, clutching his side. The ghost remains, however...

[Ramsus]

Pepper had been keeping an eye on the situation with the ghost. The moment it looked like the work crew was going to turn tail she loaded in an electroplasmic round into her rifle. She was glad things had turned out this way. She enjoyed killing ghosts. There was something about the energy of it that appealed to her. As she took aim she whistled to Salt, who knew this was the signal for "ghost chow time!" and the crocodile rushed over to take a bite out of crime the spirit at the same time as Pepper shot at it.


Pepper leading Group Action of Hunt with herself and Salt. Using Electroplasmic ammunition so, potency. Using fine rifle for improved effect. I think her position is still controlled. Not sure if I need to trade position for effect with those two other things going on, but I will if that resolves the matter. If for some reason I'm at Risky I'll trade down to Desperate. Can I trade all the way down to Desperate from Controlled? Knowing your options for extra xp is good.

Pepper: [roll0]
Salt: [roll1]

[dojango]

The end of the brawl
http://www.vangoghroute.com/site/assets/files/5099/arl_arl_langloisbrug397-1.1200x0.jpg

As Salt shifts into the ghost field and growls, the ghost stops its attempt to possess the hapless coachman, and freezes. As if it can't believe its eyes. Or whatever senses it has, at least... Which is why it doesn't see the electroplasmic bullet that tears the spirit in half. There is a wail as its energy dissipates. Salt leaps around, eating the scraps of energy. The other whisper looks on in awe. "Aye, that's one way to deal with a ghost."

Mylera helps the coachman up, and he pats himself down. She holds the blade to his throat and says in Irruvian, "What's your latest mistress's name?"

The coachman says something, shakily. Mylera grins and puts her blade down. "OK, he's still him. Damn my eyes, I..." she looks down. There artwork is covered in the dirt and blood from the brawl. Someone has put their foot through one of the paintings, and a few of the little animal statuettes have broken. She picks up the weird landscape and brushes it off, carefully. "Thank the stars, the Pietres is safe..."

Meanwhile, the bodyguard runs down the wounded man, and drags him back to the coach, while the sniper they spoke to earlier comes down from the pumphouse. Mylera glares at everyone and says, "Alright, who else knew about this meet? We're going to take our time questioning these idiots, find out who set us up. Now I'm sure you lot weren't up to anything funny," she says to the group. "Let's pack this stuff up and get out of there. The crows are coming..."

[Ramsus]

"What in the hells?" Ifriti says to herself as Salt eats the ghost. She's heard of strange animals, like those in the deathlands, but she's never seen any. And she hasn't read about any ghost eating crocodiles. Nor had anyone mentioned there was a pet crocodile in this group at all. And now it was standing there uncomfortably close to her.

Pepper comes down after being signaled. She pets Salt and murmurs things like "Good girl!" to her as Ifriti repeats Mylera's question about who knew about this meeting.

The group discusses as they help the Red Sashes load everything up and the answer they give is Ifriti telling Mylera, "On our end the only people who knew were the members of our group."
((If I'm forgetting someone else who would actually know, Ifriti includes that information. Though I don't recall there being anyone else.))

Then she asks, "Do you happen to know who those guys were?"

[dojango]

"We'll find out all they know, trust me," says Mylera. She jabs one of the captured men with the point of her sword, "Who are you? And who sent you?" She repeats the question in Skovish.

The prisoner groans, and says, "It was supposed to be an easy job. Get the stuff, get the papers. Sodding hell."

"Who put you up to it? And where'd you get the prisoner's clothes?" she asks.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Harald set everything up, it was his idea..." the prisoner waves out into the field, where the 'warden's' body lies.

"Check him out," Mylera says, and the sniper and the whisper jog over to where the body in the fields is laying.

[Ramsus]

Ifriti goes along with them to see if there's anything of note on the body.

[dojango]

The three of you hike out to the body. It is very messy. The sniper rummages through the man's pockets. Odds and ends, a few copper coins, a penknife, some bullets. Nothing interesting. The man picks up the rifle, looks it over. "Army issue. Must have made thousands during the wars. Tens of thousands."

The whisper, on the other hand, looks over the body. She carefully lays a few copper wires on the corpse, in a strange pattern. She pulls out a spirit bottle and begins singing softly to the body. After a few seconds, Ifriti can see the spirit leaving the body with her astral senses. The spirit is slowly drawn to the bottle. As it realizes what is happening, though, it lets out a long wail that only Ifriti and the whisper can hear, although the sniper starts looking around nervously, as something at the edge of his senses bothers him. The whisper finishes and caps the spirit in the bottle. "Got it. We can ask him all sorts of questions now. Better move though, I think the crows heard the scream. They'll be coming soon..."

[Ramsus]

Ifriti moves back with them and says to the Whisper, "We'd appreciate it if you let us know anything you find out."

[dojango]

The whisper nods, and says, "Keep in touch, yeah? Here, that guy threw this at us. Maybe you can get something out of it." She hands you pieces of a small clay figurine.

The sniper drops the rifle next to the body and sighs. "You done with the spook stuff? Let's get out of here. They hustle off back towards the coach, where they are finishing loading the prisoners and the artwork.

"I will find out who's behind this," Mylera says, "and they will regret it. I may have some work for you soon. Be seeing you..." the coach drives off into the darkness. In the opposite direction from where the men fled.

Sledge and Wick look up from where Wick is trying to explain the concept of banking to Sledge. "Let's go to the bank," says Wick. "This barbarian doesn't believe that they will just hand over the money to us."

[Ramsus]

Ifriti takes the clay figurine and nods, pretty interested in the little puzzle she's just been given. She hadn't been much thinking about taking items off the bodies, but the man dropping the rifle makes her realize that sure there might not be a lot of value in the gun, it's still a spare weapon or at least spare parts for repairs for Pepper's weapon if need be. So she takes that too.

Ifriti nods at Wick's suggestion and they head off to get their money.

[dojango]

The sniper raises an eyebrow at Ifriti. "If you need a gun, miss, you can always call on the Red Sashes. A man, shot dead in a field, unarmed, is a mystery. A man with a gun, not so much."

[Ramsus]

"Ah. I hadn't considered that." Ifriti says, deciding to keep that particular bit of advice in mind in the future as she tosses the gun back on the body. Because she doesn't know anything about firearm safety.
Seeing that, Pepper has a moment of silent panic and then breaths out a sigh of relief when nothing happens.

[dojango]

The scoundrels board their sailboat and head away from the docks. As they leave, they can see the crows already beginning to circle over the bodies. Although they have earned the respect of the Red Sashes and have a promissory note for a large sum of cash, they know that there are going to be a lot of questions about a battle in the fields of Dunslough. And they may have questions themselves...

To everyone's surprise, the ship is empty, save for the Changeling. There is a folded note in Locke's crude handwriting. "Need to study. Can't waste time screwing around. Keep an eye on Grampa, don't trust him. Don't let Salt eat him yet. I'll be back when I can." Of Jack, or Coil, there is no sign. Although you do hear later that he's been making waves at his law firm. But he studiously ignores any attempt to contact him.

Over the next few days, you also hear rumors that one of the Bowmore children was caught slumming, committing crimes of an undefined but ominous sort. One of the tabloids makes a big deal of it, calling it a sign of "the moral rot of the nobility". But apparently Wick has been threatened with disowning if he steps out of line...

Sledge also doesn't return. While spending some of his gains, he apparently picked a fight with a few dozen off-duty soldiers. Four soldiers were reported as hospitalized with serious injuries, and Sledge is sent down to Ironhook for a ten-spot.

You also hear rumors about a gang of thieves using 'skullfire' poison to incapacitate their enemies. The drug is not illegal, per se, but rumors are floating around that the spirit wardens want to ask some questions to the 'skullfire bandits' as the tabloids refer to them.

[Ramsus]

A few hours later, Sitre realizes her headache doesn't seem to be going away. So she goes to visit her witch friend, Quellyn. She explains the cause and there's some head shaking on Quellyn's part at Sitre's risky attempt that went awry about how she'd expect it to. Quellyn brews up a tea with some special herbs and Sitre sips it slowly as they chat about ghosts and what Quellyn has been up to this last week.

[Ramsus]

After the sale, Pepper sticks around in a hidden spot to await the arrival of the Bluecoats. When they do, she watches them and sizes them up looking for whichever seems would be the easiest to bribe to make them all care less about this incident. She picks her likely target, has a brief conversation with them a bit later and some money exchanges hands and everyone walks away feeling a bit better about the day.

A few days later Pepper goes to visit her new friend, the young Nancy Plum. Rather than bringing one of Garry's meat pies, she's brought an actual plum which she hands over to the girl. "A plum for a Plum eh? So tell me about this bad man...."

[dojango]

Teatime with a witch

Quellyn and Sitre spend several pleasant evenings over tea and meditation. Whatever the ectoplasmic residue was that bothers Sitre slowly fades away, until one day, when she leaves, she feels healthier and more alive than she has been in an age. Like waking up after a long sickness. Quellyn spends a lot of time complaining about her business woes. "It's harder and harder to get supplies in. The Imperials want to keep the market controlled, they've been asking a lot of questions. 'Who do you sell too? What spells are you casting. Do you have any unlicensed ghosts? Can we inspect your shop? Who are you selling too? Did you make any skullfire poison last week?' So many questions if you want to buy legal. And those damned Dimmer sisters... they want you to sign an oath in blood if you buy from them. Literally..."

Once Sitre mentions the strange object she recovered, Quellyn immediately takes an intereset. "You'd have better access to the books than I, over at the Academy. Saw these once or twice back when, well, never mind. They're Skovish artifacts. Some of the tribes like to imprison the souls of the dead in these statuettes, and use them against their enemies. The Empire's banned the practice, of course, but the old ways persist. Not surprised to see them turning up here with those refugees. And you say the ghost got shot? The Skovish have a lot to learn about Imperial ways..."

The Heat

Pepper spends some time watching the Bluecoats and an Inspector as they poke around the battle scene. The Inspector makes a big show of inspecting the bodies, coming the dust for clues, and so forth. The Bluecoats mostly stand around and look bored, although one or two seem interested in the Inspector's forensic work. Pepper sees one of them, a Corporal Dobbs, who has a sterling reputation for laziness and venality. She "runs into him" later, and over the next day or two, she buys him some beers. A meat pie or two. It doesn't take much to get him complaining about his work, and it isn't too difficult to steer him towards his natural conclusions. "Skovish gangs are fighting again. They bring their feuds over from there. Should send them all back, what are they doing here? Inspector's got some damned fool ideas about the skullfire bandits. What a load of crap, they're just huffing fumes and getting in fights..."

Later, over in Six Towers, she meets up with the kid. Nancy looks at the fruit curiously for a few minutes, and then messily devours it. The pit is a surprise to her, but she pockets it. Everyone knows that seeds are valuable. "The foreman at the factory. He's real mean to everyone. Always screaming, making them work longer. Mommy doesn't like talking about it. But I heard her saying he 'docked her pay' whatever that means. She was arguing with the landlord. He was being mean, too. Is that a real gun? I wish had one. Nobody would push me around then. But that guy said that he'll show me some cool tricks when he comes back. Do you know any cool tricks? Sometimes when I dream, I can see the world. As it really is. But then I wake up. Hey, you talked to those "organizer" people? One of them came by the other day. She gave me some mushroom bread. Haven't seen her around before. Talking about "striking" and "collector borrowing". The foremen came looking for her, too, but I showed her where to hide."

[Ramsus]

Pepper nods as she listens and at the end she says, "Well, let's see what we can do about that..."

Later on she sneaks into the Plum's landlord's home and steals what money (or convenient valuables) she can without taking too much time or risk and later slides the money under the Plum's door at a time she knows Nancy and her mother are home.

[dojango]

Pepper carefully stalks the landlord for a few days, watching him. Hiding. Learning. One day, when he's out at a tavern drinking his cares away, she slips into his rooms. He lives a step above the tenants. A small step, but in the grimy streets that's all that's needed. Pepper cases his meager possessions, there is some cash stowed away under the mat on the floor, and a few objects that might be worth pawning. The most valuable thing she finds is a cavalry sword, mounted on the wall beneath an Imperial banner, which has a few of those cheap baubles the Imperials hand out tacked to it.

Pepper takes what she found to a pawnshop on the other side of town, and then returns. It's not nearly as much as a score, but should be enough for a few months rent. It is simple to stash it away somewhere in the tiny room while Nancy's mother is at work.

[dojango]

https://i.imgur.com/qhjzI1p.jpg

The grinning, chip-toothed man from the red sashes lays out the map on the table. "S' an easy job. The bosslady says we're goin' to the mats. Gonna get messy out there, so we're moving some stuff outta the way. Pick up a couple of big crates over here," he says, pointing at a spot near the Dunslough bridge, "and deliver it here, in Six Towers. Got some guys there who'll take it offa yer hands. Official story is yer delivering crates full o' eels for the orphanarium out there. A gift for the coronation day holiday. Nobody'll stick their hands in there. But the crates got fake bottoms, so be careful. And no peeking, yerself. Should be easy as eel pie. Get it done and come back to the boss lady's house and you'll get yer cut. [4 coin], can't say fairer than that for an easy job."

[Ramsus]

Pepper nods and looks at the map and traces her finger along a route as she suggests, "So I'm thinking we take our little ship and pick up the cargo, then sail past Ironhook and north then east upriver all the way over to the side of the river with the lightning barrier and then northwest to the drop off."

[dojango]

Chasing Darmot

A few weeks ago, Darmot had put the word out he needed scoundrels. And then he had disappeared from the streets. Darmot had many secrets, and perhaps learning of a few of them might give Smoke the leverage he needed. Or insurance. It had taken some time to find out who Darmot had hired, whatever they had done had been done quietly. Eventually, Smoke traced one of them, an Islander sailor, to a worn-down steamboat, docked by the bridge to Silkshore.

Smoke: "I heard you guys need a Lurk. So....tell me about your last job....don't skip the details."
Pepper: "We met to sell goods with the Red Sashes. Some *******s showed up and we killed a few."
Ifriti: "Yes pretty much. We got our pay and this new job, thanks to my work as a negotiator."

After some bargaining, they had reached an arrangement. To Smoke's surprise, after they spat on their hands and shaken for the deal, a ghost had slid out of one of the rooms on the ship and sniffed him over. A soft whisper floated in from the corners of the room. "I like this one. Count your fingers after you shake hands with him. Might want to teach him how to tie knots, though... a land lubber through and through..."

[dojango]

New Friends

This street had been the turf of the Blood Walkers. Everyone hated them, and feared them. And paid protection money. When the other gangs pulled down them, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Sure as the day was dark and cold, another gang would stroll in and take their place. But for now, quiet. And no protection money. A day or two after the big fight, a few toughs stroll into Cricket's store. He recognizes Bear, one of the smugglers. They've asked Cricket to hold stuff for them one or twice, the store's storeroom has a small canal-side dock, discreet and conveniently located. But today, the man is brooding furiously. He points at Cricket. "We're gonna store some **** in your room, move your **** outta the way. And don't try anything funny, I ain't the mood." He storms off. A few hours later, several of the Fog Hounds arrive in a small canal-boat, and stow a dozen crates in your storeroom. For the rest of the day, when Cricket looks, he sees one or two of the sailors loitering in the alley across the street, watching.

A few days later, at Holtz's office, Cricket is introduced to Elynn. Cricket mentions his problems, and Elynn's bright face clouds over with anger. "Those bastards! I knew it, they're using damned scabs again! We'll show them, not to screw the Lightermen again..." He brightens up. "Hey, I've got some friends, they're helping me, I'm helping them. Maybe we can help each other, too. Let's stroll on down to the Anglerfish, it's docked over in Silkshore... I'll introduce you..."

[Feirgon]

Smoke

"Well, that was an interesting introduction..."


Smoke watches Pepper and nods along.

"I'm more accustomed to removing goods than to delivering them. However, I can spot some similarities. My only concern is that if we are going to use the eel story, we should have at least one crate of eels to corroborate the story."

[dojango]

"Don't worry. The crates are full of eels. The good stuff's in the false bottoms. Should stop any inspection short of dismantling the crates, and the eels'll bite anyone that sticks their hand in."

[LimSindull]

Cricket

Cricket sets the kettle back on the stove and slides onto the couch next to Mrs. Loep. ”I simply can’t thank you enough for granting me this little chat. He thanks Constable Leop.

“It’s no problem. I do wish that I could have been more help. We just don’t patrol the rivers.” The constable sipps his cup. He makes a sour face. “You put a bit too much whiskey in mine.” He sets it down.

”Apologies, my friend. And don’t worry about the floats in the river, It’s starting to be more work than it’s worth. If I’m not helping out a friend, I won’t push it too hard.” Cricket downs his whiskey and tea in a gulp. The constable doesn't know the schedule of the river boats. Too bad. He smiles and sets his cup onto the cocktail table.

They talk for a while more about a variety of subjects. When Cricket makes to leave, he offers for Constable Leop to come by the shop and look at a pocket watch.

Cricket listens to the chip toothed man’s explanation. It sounds easy. ”Do you have an inventory for us? I mean, how many boxes? And what’s the names of the men and companies we are picking up from and dropping off to?” Cricket writes down; eels, orphanarium (coronation gift). He looks back up to the man and then his new companions.

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

"If we are going to pretend to be shipping goods legally, we might as well look the part"

Lucren surveys the team.

"I think I know where I can get what we need."


Later that night, Smoke silently watches as some dock guards walk past one of the many worker bunkhouses. Smoke slips in and looks for the communal washing section. He looks for sets of clothing yet to be washed.

It'll take them longer to notice that these are missing. And if it all works out, we'll be able to return these after we're done.

He adjusts his breathing as he bags the clothes.

Though, we may need to wash these a bit before we wear them...


Attempting to gain disguises to help us look the part of simple eel shippers.
Prowl - [roll0]

I realize that I did the rolling wrong. But at least it is easy to see that I rolled two 6's on the dice. I'll be sure to use rollv in the future and not add any bonuses to it (lol).

[dojango]

Back at the ship, the contact grins. "Four boxes. Will take two strong lads to lift one, they're half full of water and eels. Should be a crane on the docks. We've stashed a bunch of stuff at Auntie Chun's Eelery and Smokehouse. Just tell them you're there to pick up the donation for the orphans. Over at the drop off, Arlan Tamaroff will pick the stuff up. I don't even know where the safehouse is, he'll tell you what to do there."

Later, Smoke slides in and out of the bunkhouse, a shadow on the wall. A ghost on the breeze. Back at the ship, he examines his precious score; several dirty coveralls and worker's caps. He notes the small colored patches sewn onto the sleeve; signifying the wearers are paid members of the Ancient and Honourable Guild of Lightermen, Longshoremen and Stevedores. Nobody would look twice at them delivering cargo around the city wearing these; and if caught, well, lightermen just haul cargo, they don't pay attention to what's inside.

Cricket enjoys a pleasant conversation with his contact amongst the Bluecoats. Unfortunately, it's not an informative one. Word on the street is that the Bluecoats have stepped up patrols, but where and when are they active? Well, that remains to be seen.

[dojango]

A Fistful of Eels
https://i.imgur.com/t7iNuEY.png

The day of the pickup dawns, cold and hungry. A thin fog has rolled in over the rivers, making visibility poor. Well, poorer than normal. The rivers are busy with their usual crowd of barges, canalboats, lighters, and junks. The crew is perhaps unused to handling the wherry, and it takes sometime to make their way over to the pickup dock. Although their ship is lit with the traditional lanterns, fore, aft, and at the masthead, the ever present gloom weighs down on the boat. Another boat very nearly collides with yours, and you lose some time trying to avoid them as their crew shouts vicious insults across the water, belittling your nautical skills, parentage, and general hygiene. Eventually, you make it to the dock, where you wait your turn to load the crates. After you ask for the donation for the orphans, a few surly eelery workers use the dockside crane to hoist several large crates onto your ship, and down into the fore hold. It takes a few minutes to make them fast, fumbling with the unfamiliar knots, but eventually the crew is fairly certain that they won't break free. The crew hoists the sail and starts heading upriver. All is quiet on the river, the sound of ropes creaking, waves slapping against the hull, the occasional outraged squawk of a water-bird as it is pulled under by a lurking predator. Suddenly you hear outraged shouting coming from not too far away. The crew turns to look, and sees the bow of a steamship heading straight towards them. They have but moments to react...

[Ramsus]

Ifriti sees the bow of the steamship, holds back a curse. Even to those not attuning, her eyes suddenly burst into streaks of flame as she thrusts her arms out. There is a brief sweltering heat, made worse by the stuffy disguises they're all wearing, and then she thrusts her arms out as a blast of wind issues forth, making waves and a sudden spray of water.


Ifriti is Pushing for Tempest with Attune: [roll0]

[dojango]

Ifriti concentrates and summons a gust of wind to fill the ship's sail. It billows, and the ship surges forward, cutting a path through the waves. Ifriti sees the bow of the ship dip alarmingly close to the surface, and the river's cold water starts to surge over the deck. With herculean mental effort, she controls the wind to sweep the water off the decks as well, away from the hatches. The wherry darts across the bows of the oncoming steamship, "crossing it's T" as they might say, heading away from the lee shore. The other steamship appears to have doused its running lights, in flagrant disregard for the rules of the river. Nevertheless, in the dim light, you can see the name of the ship glinting, "Fog Hound". Whether it was trying to ram your ship or force you into the shore is uncertain. A few shouts ring out from the deck of the ship. You can see a few men with guns lining the rail, and a voice rings out over the waters. "You can't outrun us, land-lubbers! Stand by to be boarded!"

It's true, the steamship can travel faster against the currents and winds than the wherry can, but your ship is certainly more nimble. And with the wind at the beam reach, your vessel has a slight advantage. Furthermore, you can dart through the city's canals, while the Fog Hound is limited to the river and the roadsteads. And of course, the open ocean, but the chase will surely not lead there.

[Ramsus]

"Mother****! In all my years out on the sea I've never come that close to just being smashed apart by another ship like that. Good work fire....lady....." Pepper exclaims and then trails off looking at Ifriti.
Quietly she says more to herself than to Ifriti, "How are flames coming out of your eyes, through the mask without eye holes? What in the name of all the stars....?"

But before she can say more than that or Ifriti can reply if she even heard that, Pepper sees "Fog Hound" and hears the bastards shout down at them.
She looks to the others and asks, "I am very tempted to start shooting holes in those bitches right now but, I'm guessing that's not what we're doing?"

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

"Most assuredly not."

Lucren speaks up just as Pepper finishes her question. He then looks over at Ifriti and pauses for the slightest moment.

"Impressive. But, whatever it is you just did, I don't think it will be enough to help us outrun them."

He scans the nearby city canals for a canal big enough for their boat but too small for their attackers'.

"We should try to find someplace outside of their reach. Preferably close by and just big enough for our own vessel."

So much for a milk run...


Participating in a group check for Survey: [roll0]

[Ramsus]

Ifriti looks at the Fog Hound and the wind in their sails and comments idly, "It's certainly helping."

Pepper meanwhile nods with a grunt of clearly expected disappointment and looks around and mentally asks Salt to look around for canals of whatnot that might be easier to see for her underwater than those up in the fog.


Pepper: [roll0]
Salt: [roll1]

[dojango]

Navigating the rivers and canals of Duskvol is always a challenge in the darkened fog, even more so when dodging a ship thrice your ship's size... but if that's Ironhook bridge ahead, then Bluewater canal, cutting through Charhollow, should be right up ahead. You can dimly see the swinging lights that mark the entrance to it. The steamship would not be able to follow you there, although the canal is already crowded with barges and gondoliers.

Another option would be to head downriver, towards Crow's Foot and Tangletown. With the current and a favorable wind, the wherry would have the advantage, and room to maneuver, although the steamship could turn around and chase you unless you darted into one of the other canals in that area. That area is likely to have some Bluecoat patrols, who would no doubt take a dim eye towards a rogue steamship.

Finally, there is always the option of continuing upriver. The steamship would have the advantage, at least in the short run, but once you round Charhollow point the steamship will be limited to using the main channel, and wouldn't be able to turn around if you wanted to lose them there.

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

There!

Smoke points ahead.

"Charhollow Point. We can lose them if we can get past there."

He looks at the lights on the boat and in the direction of Bluewater Canal.

"Though, if we can convince them that we are heading for Bluewater, we might have a better chance of losing them.

Head for the canal and douse the lights. Once the lights are out we change course toward Charhollow.

Even if the feint doesn't work, hopefully we'll be harder to track."


[roll0]

Expertise (Prowl): Choose one of your action ratings. When you lead a group action using that action, you can suffer only 1 stress at most regardless of the number of failed rolls.

[Ramsus]

At the mention of the names of the canals Ifriti comments, "You know, I don't think I've ever been down here before."
Pepper give her an annoyed look and says, "Not really the time."
Ifrit shrugs and then gives and nod and they go back to trying to control the ship and hopefully pull off this maneuver.

As Pepper works, she gets Salt to help out underwater by pushing the ship at the right time to perform the maneuver as late as they can to give them a better chance to slip the Fog Hound.


Pepper: [roll0]
Ifriti: [roll1]
Salt: [roll2]

[dojango]

Smoke sees a thicker mass of fog ahead, mixed with the acrid coal smoke drifting away from a thousand stoves and smokestacks. Another fine day in Doskvol. They steer the boat towards the mouth of Bluewater canal. As they approach, they can see a belch of sparks and smoke from upriver, as the steamboat turns towards them. Smoke orders the lights of the ship doused. The ones at the fore and aft are easy enough, and then it takes but a moment to lower the light from the masthead, and put it out as well. Just before they enter the canal mouth, they swing the boat hard to starboard. They get a few nasty looks from other boats, but most are probably more concerned with the rapidly maneuvering steamboat in the mid-channel. An electroplasmic spotlight jabs out from the bow of the ship, pointing towards the mouth of the canal. It jerks about, finding its quarry missing.

Up ahead are the lights of Ironhook bridge. They mark the clearance of the bridge, and also illuminate the poor wretches in the gibbets that hang beneath the bridge. As the ship heads beneath the bridge, the spotlight finds you for a moment. It sweeps by, and then snaps back, illuminating the wherry faintly. The steamship's engines seem to roar in triumph as it turns back upriver to follow. The fog is getting thicker, though, as you get closer to the foundries.

ABANDON SHIP! 0/8
LOST IN THE FOG: 3/8

[Ramsus]

"Well that was close! Hah, let's see them-" Pepper says, clearly enjoying the thrill of this chase maybe more than she should. She cuts off when they're found by the spotlight. At this point she begins cursing like a sailor, which is hardly shocking given she was in fact a sailor (of a particular kind that certainly wouldn't shy away from curses).
Once she's finished cursing (which takes an uncomfortably long period of time for everyone else most likely), she kind of growls and says, "Well, there's one way I know to deal with that ****in' thing!" and she proceeds to, with no other preamble or warning of any sort, whip out her rifle and take a shot at the spotlight.


Pepper is using Hunt to shoot out the spotlight.
Taking the Devil's Bargain that her foe, Casta the bounty hunter, notices her here.
Hunt: [roll0]
Edit: Risky position, Standard Effect
Edit 2: Fine Rifle makes this Great Effect

[dojango]

There is a loud crack from Pepper's rifle. The offending spotlight winks out. The wherry slinks back into the fog, past the moored barges by the side of the river. As the fog closes in, you can see the surprised faces of their occupants, staring at your boat. Whatever else happens, people will remember your passage. Up ahead, the river flows past Charhollow point. River traffic is busier there, thanks to the supplies flowing in and out of Coalridge. Downstream, you hear the sound of the steamship cautiously heading up river, much slower now, to avoid accidents and attracting more notice.

Abandon Ship! 0/8
Lost in the Fog: 6/8

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

"Once we get past the point we should try to blend in with the crowd. We'll want to put our lights back on to do so."


Does this require a roll?

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

"Everyone, be sure to act like nothing is out of the ordinary once the lights are back on."


[roll0]

[Ramsus]

"That makes sense as a plan yeah." Pepper replied with a nod and once again got Salt to help them out with maneuvering from beneath.

"So much time spent around water here. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it." Ifriti comments as she goes about holding a rope in a place Pepper told her to.

Pepper shrugs at this and replies, "For me it's getting used to the cold and all the time on land."

Ifriti just gives an appreciative nod at this as if to say "yes, I acknowledge our experiences are practically opposite and both not the standard for this environment".


Group Action Prowl
Pepper: [roll0]
Salt: [roll1]
Ifriti: [roll2]

[LimSindull]

Cricket

Cricket shudders at the Crack of the rifle. The others seem to be holding up well in the deviation of their plan, but he feels nauseous from all of the excitement.

He holds the rope tight and try's to remember the illustrations from the manual he studied to get ready for this trip. He tries to remember the drawing's muscle position and the calmness of the man's face.

Group prowl 2d6

[dojango]

Once freed from the glare of the spotlight, the crew maneuvers the wherry into the lines of traffic criss-crossing the river channel from Charhollow to Coalridge. They cautiously rig up the lights again, just another boat in the traffic. Either because of the dense fog, or the narrowness of this channel, the steamship does not follow, as far as you can tell. The wherry heads into the channel that passes between Charterhall and Coalridge. For a moment everything is clear; and then you see that the few boats in front of you have come to a complete stop. There is a Bluecoat river launch blocking a portion of the channel, and the bluecoats appear to be inspecting the traffic. There are three boats ahead of you, and the channel is somewhat narrow. You can turn around if you choose, but it would be tricky. And it might attract just as much attention from the Bluecoats in their steam launch...

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

"I say we just play it cool."

Lucren was half talking to the team and half talking to himself as he stared at the patrol ahead.

"Plus, I did go through all that trouble to get these outfits. It would almost be a shame not to see them needed."

He gives a slight smirk as he looks around.


If it isn't apparent, I am in favor of going through the patrol in as much an unassuming manner as possible.

[Ramsus]

"Yeah. Pressing on and acting like you are who you're supposed to be is one of the main ways a pirate ship gets its job done, the same can be said for this enterprise." Pepper remarks agreeing with Smoke.

Ifriti shrugs as if to say "this isn't my area of expertise, lead on".

[dojango]

It's a tricky maneuver to stop the boat in the crowded canal. The sail has to be furled, the barge poles broken out, and the mast lowered, all while trying not to crash into other boats... there is a flurry of activity on the ship as the crew brings the ship to a halt without incident. The Bluecoats hop on the boat in front of you, flash lights in the faces of the sailors, and rummage through the hold. Then they wave it on. The boat poles forward under the bridge, and the bluecoats wave your ship forwards. When you stop next to their ship, three bluecoats jump on. Their leader shines his light on you and says, "Cargo and destination?"

[Ramsus]

"Eels. For the orphanarium in Six Towers sir." Ifriti answers while casually pondering what will become of the eels. She imagines the others insisting on taking the eels back to their ship, not wanting to pass up on so many free meals.


Consort: [roll0]
Controlled/Great Effect

[dojango]

One of the Bluecoats drops into the hold of the ship with his light. He climbs back out a minute later, gives a thumbs up sign to the leader. The leader shines his light at Ifriti and the others, who are holding the barge in place. He gives Ifriti a searching look, trying to figure out if it's worth trying to extort a bribe. He decides it isn't. After all, the Guild has its own deal with the Bluecoats, the bribes go directly to the precinct captains, and it's not worth his arse to be shaking down a few laborers for a few coppers. He grunts, says, "move along," and they clamber off the barge. The crew poles the barge underneath the bridge ahead and raises the mast again. The wind is a little unreliable in the narrower canals, you'll have to use the poles to move the barge deeper into Six Towers.

https://i.imgur.com/EqsMCm0.png

[Ramsus]

At the watery crossroads, Pepper suggests, "Let's follow the river east. It's a lot wider so they should have a harder time finding us out there in this fog without a spotlight."

After a moment Ifrit suggests, "It is difficult for us to see as well. Perhaps those of us who know how should look into the ghost veil and see what we can see that way."
Pepper gives a nod at that.


Using Attune to Gather Information
Ifriti: [roll0]
Pepper: [roll1]

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

This wasn't the first time Smoke has reached out to the ethereal for some insight. He learned early on, if he hoped to use the shadows to full effect, he needed to learn to speak with them.

Lucren nodded at Ifriti as he began to focus his spirit on the unseen.


[roll0]

[Ramsus]

After attuning, Pepper has Salt assist her as looks around the area both above and below water to get a sense for anything noteworthy. Then the pair begins tracking a few passing ships so they might know or at least be able to guess their routes if they want to try and avoid them or do fancy stunts like getting them between their ship and a pursuing one.


Pepper Survey: [roll0]
Salt Survey: [roll1]

Pepper Hunt: [roll2]
Salt Hunt: [roll3]

[dojango]

Attuning themselves to the ghost field on the edge of Six Towers is always an interesting experience. Smoke is nearly overcome by a dizzying jumble of lost memories and sensations, although the distant roar of the lightning field is a source of comfort. Pepper and Salt both get the sense that there is a lost spirit up ahead. Salt seems to be looking forward to eating it. Ifriti, on the other hand, gets a whiff of shock and sorrow, the usual traces that one finds when seeing the ghost echo of someone that died suddenly.

Pepper scans the area, noting that the canals have become fairly crowded with other boats. It would be difficult for a pursuer to catch up, even if they did have some way of identifying their ship. There does to be a snarl of masts on the smaller canal that branches off to the north, some sort of jam, perhaps? Certainly the boats entering that canal have slowed to a crawl.

[Ramsus]

"Well we should probably stick to the main river for now to avoid that snarl. How about we go get Salt a tasty ghost snack?" Pepper suggests with a hint of viciousness in her eyes.

"Um..." Ifriti responds, rather unsure about going out of the way to mess with ghosts with nothing to gain from it.

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

Lucren's eyes slowly come back into focus as he gathers Pepper's words in his mind.

"We should probably stick to the task at hand." His speech is slow at first but it eventually returns to its normal pace.

"But, I do agree that we should stay in lanes where we have more freedom for maneuvering."

[dojango]

The boat continues down the channel. Gondoliers flit through traffic, braving the channel with flagrant disregard for life and limb. Other barges move ponderously along, poled along by cursing bargemen. Once through the channel, the open river awaits. The thick fog has thinned a bit, and in the gloom it is hard to see if their are lurking ships. Although you can dimly sense the nearby presence of the lost soul, the reassuring hum of the distant lightning field overpowers much of your aethyric senses. The boat slips out into the east river channel. A short dash along the shoreline takes you to the nearby side canal. The ship heels as it turns into the canal. The warehouses on this canal seem abandoned. Ahead of you is a low bridge. As you lower your mast to slide under it, you see several smaller boats shove off from a quay. A few Bluecoats wave you down. "Stand by to be boarded," they shout. "Routine inspection!"

[Ramsus]

Ifriti and Pepper both simultaneously have the same thought, that it's a bit unlikely for their ship to have been stopped from random Bluecoat inspections twice in one trip. They both separately attempt to gauge things like if the Bluecoat uniforms are correct, anything weird about their behavior, or if there's anything else in the immediate area that stands out as suspicious.


I assume Controlled and Standard
Pepper Survey: [roll0]
Ifriti Study: [roll1]

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

What is going on?

Lucren surveys the area to see exactly what is going on, perhaps even see how many Bluecoats are around.

Then he gives a second look at the Bluecoats, perhaps they weren't who they seemed to be.

Could we really have come across two of these in one trip?


Survey [roll0]
Study [roll1]

[dojango]

There are four Bluecoats on the quay. The canal is narrow here, normally wide enough for two wherries to squeeze by as long as they are scraping the sides. The boat has just passed below a low bridge, you haven't had time to raise the mast and the sail. The canal is deserted now, and the Bluecoats are shoving off in a skiff to intercept you.

Damn Bluecoats, harassing innocent travelers. Didn't they hear about that crazy boat? Do they really have nothing better to do than lurk in a deserted canal stopping passing ships?

The Bluecoats are just thugs in uniforms. Nice uniforms, with lots of polished brass and tall, pointed hats. The better to intimidate their vic... er, the citizens of the city. Smoke gets a closer look at these men as they prepare to clamber onto the wherry. Their uniforms are somewhat threadbare, they don't seem to have visible badges. And... they're not wearing hats.

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

Smoke makes eye contact with his boatmates.

"Keep pushing don't stop! They aren't Bluecoats." He speaks in a loud whisper, hoping not to inform the approaching skiff.

He prepares to push the ship forward past the "Bluecoats".


Finesse [roll0]

[Ramsus]

Pepper narrows her eyes and sees the signs Smoke picked up on that she missed and feels a bit dumb for having missed them for a fraction of a second before racing to raise the sails quickly.


Pushing for +1 die, Finesse: [roll0]

[dojango]

The boat's mast is pushed back up, and you shove forward with the poles. Haste and inexperience take their toll, and for a moment, the ship's boom swings free, sweeping across the deck as the ship heels to the side. The crew bring it under control after a moment, and the ship moves past the "Bluecoats". The three men in the skiff shove off as you pass them by, while the one remaining on the quay shouts, "Stop! In the name of the Bluecoats!" They draw their pistols. Up ahead, you see two men struggling to lower a boom across the canal, while behind you, atop the bridge, three men draw their pistols. The men atop the bridge are not wearing uniforms.

Everyone who participated in the group action gets a Level 1 harm, bruised!, from being hit by the boom.

[Ramsus]

Looking around with alarm and a bit of confusion Iriti says to the others as much as herself, "What is going on here? Why are there so many men here to stop us and how did they know we would be going this way when we only decided to take this canal moments ago?"

Frustrated over the very same question, Pepper decides to take action rather than ask questions and decides to do not one, but two, things about their situation. She coordinates with Salt and at about the same moment she shoots at one of the men lowering the boom, only aiming to force him back away from the mechanism, Salt rams into the skiff chasing them from below, attempting to capsize it.


Pepper Hunt, Risky Standard: [roll0]

Salt, Risky Great: [roll1]

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

Smoke winces as he takes the bruise from the boom. As the number of enemies increases, it is obvious these guys are looking for more than thug money.

Looking to avoid being caught in an ambush, Smoke redoubles his efforts and attempts to push their ship past the canal boom.

Not today!


taking 2 stress for +1 die
gaining +1 die from Ifriti

[roll0]

[Ramsus]

Noticing what's going on, Ifriti does her best to help out with the sailing, though this is hardly her area of expertise.

[dojango]

Smoke shifts the sails and the ship heels to the side, continuing past the boom, as Pepper fires a warning shot at the men operating it. Down in the canal, you hear the outraged shouts and splashes as the skiff overturns. As the boat sails into the down the canal, there is a shout, "He's got a gun! ****!" A few pistol shots ring out, but splash harmlessly into the water. You are past the ambush.

The rest of the journey is fairly simple. You come out of the deserted canal, back into the steady stream of traffic. There is a small quay, where several men are lounging by a wagon. "Oy, you lot have the eels for the kiddos?"

Abandon Ship! 2/8. Also, you feel that you may have attracted some notice. +1 Heat

[Ramsus]

"Could be. We were told a certain person would be the one to drop off the cargo with. Care to share your name?" Pepper asks, knowing better than to just hand the crates over without checking they're being given to the right person. Her old crew had pulled a few scams where they were on the opposite side of things.

[dojango]

The oldest of the men looks at you funny for a moment. Eventually he says, "Tamaroff n' Son drayage at yer service. Here's our work order." He hands you scrap of paper that says "Pick up 4 crates Eels at Paolo's Quay. Deliver to Helene's Orphanarium. Paid for by the Iruvian Embassy."

[Ramsus]

Pepper looks at the paper and nods and hands it off to anyone else in the group who also wants to check. "Looks good. Vannen Tamaroff I presume?"


Yes, that's the wrong name. She's being extra careful and hoping that provokes a correction on the name with the correct name.

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

Smoke looks over the work order and eyes Pepper as she asks for the wrong person. Though he is sure she mentioned the wrong name, he isn't willing to shake-up the conversation if she's working some angle.

[dojango]

"Arlan Tamaroff. Been in the business for near on thirty years. Got me own cart and everything. Now I reckon them orphans are getting hungry, if you lot'll open up yer ship we'll get them crates hoisted for ya." He gestures to the crane stowed by the dock. One of his men ambles over and starts meddling with the controls.

[Ramsus]

Pepper smiles, happy that she's as sure she can be this is the right person for the pick up, and gives Smoke the nod of approval to do as the man asked.

[dojango]

The haulers quickly pull out the crane and carefully hoist the four crates onto their cart. Just as the last crate is loaded onto their cart, there is a sudden noise as the doors from several nearby houses burst open. A score of rifles emerge, held by grim-faced imperial soldiers. They are levelled at the crew and at the haulers. One of the soldiers growls, "Freeze, guttersnipes!"

A moment later, a tall, thin man with an aquiline face emerges, dressed in an inspector's uniform. He takes off his gloves and slaps them into his hand for emphasis. "So. The Red Sashes are delivering black lotus to the orphans. How very charitable."


The hauler stutters for a moment and says, "Uh, I don't know nuthin' about that, sir. All we got are eels. See the work order?" He waves the paper as if it will shield him from the inspector. "That's right, guys, just eels?" he asks the crew, plaintively.

The Inspector sneers. "We'll see about that. Sergeant, search those crates!"

One of the soldiers motions to a few others, and they climb up on the cart and pry the lids off. The carefully peer into the crate and then jerk back. "Just eels, sir!" says one of them.

"False bottoms, you idiot," says the Inspector. "Break them open!"

The soldiers lever the crates off the cart, and they fall down with a crash, spill filthy water and angry, thrashing eels all across the little square. By now a small crowd has gathered, behind the soldiers, and they laugh as the two soldiers carefully smash the crates to pieces with their rifle butts, only finding more water and more eels. There is a long, ominous silence as the Inspector stares furiously at the mess, eyelid twitching. The moment is broken by the sound of hoofbeats. An Imperial officer on an actual, living, breathing horse moves through the crowd, which reluctantly parts for him. He stops the horse a few feet away from the snapping swarm of eels. "Inspector Francois. Did you really need a company of my finest troops to defeat these dangerous eels?"

The Inspector growls. "My informant assured me that the Red Sashes were sending in 50 pounds of Black Lotus! We had to put a stop to them!"

The Captain surveys the scene for a moment. "Well. We are always happy to assist the Inspectorate. Nevertheless, riots are breaking out in Crow's Foot. I need to have this company stationed at the Charterhall bridge, to prevent any unpleasantness from spreading. With your permission?" The Inspector growls something unintelligible, and the Captain continues, "Company! Fall in!" The soldiers shoulder their arms and form two lines, although a few more enterprising ones stoop to pick up an eel or two, carefully stowing them in their packs for a later dinner. The Captain politely ignores this, and leads the company away. The inspector stops to examine everyone's faces, as if trying to commit them to memory. Then he follows the retreating soldiers. This seems to trigger something in the watching crowds, who surge forward to claim a share of the spoils. While some lucky eels have managed to thrash themselves over the edge into the canal, the majority of them are quickly seized by the milling crowd. The haulers have fled the scene through a side street, bringing their wagon with them.

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

Smoke raises an eyebrow as he watches the crowd pick through the eels on the ground.

"A rather exciting end to all of this business, eh?"

He speaks just loud enough for the nearby crew mates to hear him.

"I'm guessing this is a mission accomplished. We should probably head back and get paid.

And if we have enough time, try to figure out who this informant is."

[Ramsus]

"I imagine they were the ones who tipped the inspectors off as a diversion, but we should report it just to be polite." Ifriti replies.

As they begin sailing away Pepper comments, "I just wish they hadn't sent us off in the dark about the crates and who we were up against. I very nearly started shooting the moment I heard their guns come out."

[dojango]

Any thoughts of returning to the Red Sashes immediately are quashed as you approach Crow's Foot. A few plumes of smoke rise from the city, thick and acrid, and Bluecoat patrols are swarming the canals and bridges. By the time of the next dawn, grim and cold, a messenger arrives at The Anglerfish, bringing a strongbox with [6 COIN] in it, and a note from Mylera Klev.


Sorry for the deception, loves, I needed to smoke out the snakes in my garden. I knew you could take care of yourselves. I hope the extra coin will help you forgive me? And feel free to drop by some of our dojos, in case you want to learn some elementary skills. Although, perhaps not now, we are a little busy.

The fighting in Crow's Foot seems to have died down. Apparently, the Lampblacks and Billhooks were trying to ambush a shipment of drugs that the Red Sashes were shipping through Crow's Foot, but were in turn ambushed by the Red Sashes and some Skovish mercenaries. They put a bitter fight, maybe a dozen killed and scores wounded. The Bluecoats stayed out of it until the fires got going, then they forced their way in with the Sallies in tow. The gangs retreated after that, let the Bluecoats and Sallies fight the fires and engage in some desultory looting. But the battlelines are drawn.

[dojango]

You leave the offices of Saltford's Bank, James' laughter still ringing in your ears. It stings, more than you thought it would. "Arden, Saltford's is at the cutting edge. We need the best minds. Academy graduates, not dropouts. Why don't you try selling spirit charms down in Nightmarket? Or busting ghosts on the side?"

As you collect your thoughts, a man approaches you. Heavyset, bulky. Hooded, and wearing a fine spirit mask. A snarling animal of some sort. "Mr Winthrope, a moment of your time? I may have some work for you." He takes you by the arm and gently guides you to a small café. He orders three small mince pies and three mushroom stouts. He quickly demolishes two of them, leaving the third for you. "I understand that you have had some trouble at the Academy. I was most opposed to how you were treated, but I have so very little influence these days. So it goes. But I don't want to bore you about Academy politics. I have an amusing story for you. Some time ago, I had contracted with some disreputable sorts to purchase an unusual artifact. Don't look shocked, aha, we at the Academy are sometimes more grounded than we appear. Ahem. But the parties never showed up at the meeting. The law caught up with them, as is just and proper. But regrettably, before I could make the purchase. And the law does not appear to have recovered my artifact. Most vexing. Fortunately, these artifacts do not hide themselves. I have consulted with the spirit worlds and divined its location. I fear that another band of criminals has acquired it, hah. It would be very helpful to me, personally, if you offer your services to these scoundrels. Who could turn down the offer of an Academy trained whisper? Study the artifact, and keep me apprised. And when the time comes, I will be happy to sponsor your readmission to the Academy.

[Ramsus]

A day or two after their latest score, Ifriti finally has time to look through one of the books she got as her initial payment from the crew. She'd been expecting another snippet of information about one of the rituals she'd been trying to piece together. Instead she was delighted to find it contained the missing clues she needed to complete it. Her mind raced with the thrill of finally finally getting to perform some real old world magic as she put the pieces together and formed a completed ritual.
Then she had to go to a few shops. A goldsmith for some gold dust and a gembroker for, she decided rubies would fit her best. It was a shame to have to crush them, as small and imperfect as the ones she purchased were. The alcohol, a favorite iruvian wine, wasn't particularly hard to acquire.

The next day she went by Qwellen's place and invited her along, promising something most exciting. She took her to the Anglerfish and they secluded themselves in the workshop space. She briefly wondered at what the previous crew might have used this space for. Probably not ritual magic, she concluded with a grin to herself.
Then they began the work of making the magic circle and all its complex symbols with gold dust and crushed rubies, after they'd lit the room with candles and put out the electroplasmic lights. Then the filled the bowl with the wine. And then Ifriti placed her lightning hook in the circle. Then finally they began their fire hours of chanting. Mostly in hadrathi, including a few rather archaic words. But also a few words from a language that Ifriti believed was far older still.

When they were done, the gold and ruby dust of the magic circle slithered along the ground to the lightning hook, covering it entirely and then it began to glow red hot. The dust melted and the lightning hook grew so hot it glowed too brightly for the pair to look directly at for a few moments. Then there was the hissing sound of something rapidly cooling and the lightning hook had been transformed. Before them was something resembling a wizard's staff from the old faerie tales. While it still could collapse like the lightning hook it had once been, its steel seemed to have been transformed to copper and it had lines of gold and ruby wrapped around it. The loop of wire had been replaced with a head that was somewhat similar to a tuning fork... or perhaps horns.
Sharing a look of amazement with her friend, Ifriti only waited a few moments longer to ensure it was cool enough to touch before picking it up. She could immediately feel the power of it and smiled, in a slightly wicked way, involuntarily. After taking a moment to just enjoy the sensation, she remembered to test if it still worked as a lightning hook. At the very thought of it, electricity arced between the forked points at the end. She jumped at the sudden crackle of it. And then her smiled widened further. A bit later on she remembered to check that it could still be charged like a normal lightning hook and found that there didn't seem to be any way to access its internal mechanisms and she couldn't sense the presence of electroplasm in it. Just the magic staff's own blazing elemental power.


Performing Magical Weapon ritual. With assistance from Qwellen. 3 Stress for Ifriti and Spending 1 Coin and 1 Downtime action.

Magic Weapon is for Ifriti and its unique property is that while using it, Pushing for Tempest costs only 1 Stress.

Attune: [roll0]

[Ramsus]

After Ifriti has changed out of the heavy and unfashionable disguises they had to wear for the smuggling operation, she runs into Smoke. She notices something. A familiar article from the same tailor she frequents if she's correct. Not feeling a need to be coy or timid here, this is a man she just committed...well, would have committed a crime with.
"Smoke. Would you be willing to accompany me somewhere? I would not mind the chance to get to know you a bit better as I don't feel I have a true sense for you yet. I believe by your attire you're already familiar with the work of Dunridge & Sons, yes? I feel the need to put together something special and could use a discerning pair of eyes. Perhaps a second pair as well if you happen to know those belonging to a lady as I could use the opinion of both genders I think."


Paying 1 Coin for a third Downtime action. Vice roll with a friend: [roll0]

[ShadowImmor]

You leave the offices of Saltford's Bank, James' laughter still ringing in your ears. It stings, more than you thought it would. "Arden, Saltford's is at the cutting edge. We need the best minds. Academy graduates, not dropouts. Why don't you try selling spirit charms down in Nightmarket? Or busting ghosts on the side?"

As you collect your thoughts, a man approaches you. Heavyset, bulky. Hooded, and wearing a fine spirit mask. A snarling animal of some sort. "Mr Winthrope, a moment of your time? I may have some work for you." He takes you by the arm and gently guides you to a small café. He orders three small mince pies and three mushroom stouts. He quickly demolishes two of them, leaving the third for you. "I understand that you have had some trouble at the Academy. I was most opposed to how you were treated, but I have so very little influence these days. So it goes. But I don't want to bore you about Academy politics. I have an amusing story for you. Some time ago, I had contracted with some disreputable sorts to purchase an unusual artifact. Don't look shocked, aha, we at the Academy are sometimes more grounded than we appear. Ahem. But the parties never showed up at the meeting. The law caught up with them, as is just and proper. But regrettably, before I could make the purchase. And the law does not appear to have recovered my artifact. Most vexing. Fortunately, these artifacts do not hide themselves. I have consulted with the spirit worlds and divined its location. I fear that another band of criminals has acquired it, hah. It would be very helpful to me, personally, if you offer your services to these scoundrels. Who could turn down the offer of an Academy trained whisper? Study the artifact, and keep me apprised. And when the time comes, I will be happy to sponsor your readmission to the Academy.

After coming out and being taken to a Cafe by a man he does not know, Arden will remain absolutely silent and stone face, not reacting to the food or drink in front of him, while listening to the Gentleman's plan. After waiting a little while, perhaps slightly longer than is necessary, Arden speaks in a slow, deliberate tone.

"I understand, your request. I do not know who it is you wish me to speak to though, do you know where they are located Mr?"

Arden's look is clearly looking like he is expecting a name, but not one he can trust. After it's given, and a hopefully a location he can go to. He will simply nod, then waiting and drawing out the time a bit more he will take a drink of some of the stout, again seemingly drawing it out a bit longer than is necessary.

"I am sure I can be of some service. Tell me, do you know anything about these roguish chaps that I might find helpful?"

[dojango]

A cart rumbles by the cafe. The man turns and looks at it. "Johnson & Portman Cartage Services" is painted on the side in bright colors. He looks at Arden disapprovingly. "You may call me Dr. Johnson. I didn't go to 11 years of school... neveemind. Young man, the first rule of aethyrics studies is that everything costs energy. If not from fuel, than from you. You need to keep your strength up, lest you be consumed by your work." He taps Arden's pie with his knife. "There are children starving in Skovlan, you know. As far as the current holders of my artifact, well, that I don't know. If I knew, I would simply make myself known... but once burned, twice shy, as they say? I hired an orphan to spy on the location, but he eventually came back, saying he was too afeared of the crocodile to continue. Kids! Such unreliable workers. And full of stories. They appear to be honest deliverymen, but I am sure that is not the whole story. At any rate, it seems to me that you... well, I,... have connections to many people interested in procuring arcane artifacts. People whose hands would be much safer than those of the untrained masses. If you introduce yourself to these scoundrels as someone who may find a buyer for that artifact, that would serve our purpose?" The man pulls a small saucer out of his pocket. He pours the last dregs of his beer in it, and then spits in it. He murmurs a few times, and then drops a sliver of something in the saucer. It spins for a moment, and then points to the south. "Powerful artifacts do not want to remain hidden, you know. This will show you the way, and perhaps provide proof of your bonafides. It's a simple variant on Lysa's Locator, but attuned to the artifact in question."

[ShadowImmor]

Arden looks at the pie when he taps it. After a moment's deliberation he begins eating it. Once he has finished eating the pie, he takes the saucer, watching the object floating in it.

"Thank Doctor. I apologise if I seem brusque, it's not often a, friendly face comes out of nowhere to offer me a job. You can understand myself being a bit on edge. Do they know what they have?"

((OoC: Edited to make it more in line with GM's response.))

[dojango]

Doctor Johnson fixes Arden with a glare. "I suppose that would be helpful. Fine. The artifact in question is a human fore-arm. A left arm. They let me see it when I was first talking to them... but I don't know if it is genuine. There have been many fakes of this over the years... anyone can take an arm and call it Kotar's. I will need you to inspect the item and make sure it is the real one. If it is, then I will purchase it from these scoundrels... at a fair price. You will get your cut, too. If it is fake, I will purchase it as well, at a much lower price, of course. These scoundrels have obtained a steamboat tied up near the Silkshore bridge. Haha, don't let the temptations of the city distract you from your work, young man. I have an associate who can deliver messages to me discretely. She will meet you by the docks. She will ask you, 'What do you do when the whispers are late?' your response, 'burn down the house'."

[ShadowImmor]

Arden leaves the café, a small smile on his face as he heads out into the streets, following the direction Doctor Johnson gave him, thinking to himself that this must be a lucky break, after all, he's only got to look at an artefact and then arrange a purchase! What could possibly go...

He shakes his head dismissing that thought before he finishes it. He's well aware many things could go wrong, and thinking that everything is fine is hubris he cannot afford.

Upon arriving at the docks, he looks up and down the water front, looking for a steamboat, or for anyone trying to catch his eye.

[dojango]

As Arden approaches the dock where the steamboat is, a woman appears out of the shadows. Older, with her iron gray hair tied back. She has a whisper's mask at her belt, and she appears to be hawking spirit charms. "Son, you look like you are lost. Perhaps a charm to find your way? To protect you? What do you do when the Whisper is late?" After Arden gives the countersign, she continues. "So, another friend. I thought to take a look around the ship, but they've got a spirit guarding it. Clever. Didn't get too close. They're right vicious bastards, too. We got attacked while we were, well, never mind, but they started dropping the attackers like it were nothing. Cold. If the Doctor thinks you can get an in, good luck. They're working for the Red Sashes now, helping find leaks in the ship. Gonna be another war. You can tell these guys what we found out from the captives. The living and the dead. They were mercenaries, hired by an unknown party. Obviously Basco. He's gotta have a mole, and Mylera's gonna roast him. Probably be torturing his spirit for eternity. The mole's, I mean. Any rate, we had to let the captives go as part of a deal with the Skovs, so no hard feelings. Pass that along, they shouldn't be out for blood. Probably. Any rate, best of luck, young man. If you want to send a message to the Doctor, ask around for the Widow Johnson down by Tinker Square."

[ShadowImmor]

He nods along as the woman explains to him what he needs to know.

"I see. What do you suggest would be the best approach? Merely walking up to them and saying I represent an interested party in an object they have and as such I would like to look at it more closely to see if it is the object my employer is after, another approach altogether?"

He looks over at the steamboat, just getting an idea of what's going on, looking to see if he can see an activity or if it's all completely quiet.

[dojango]

"They're very mercenary. The prospect of getting more money would appeal. Or maybe offer to do them a favor in exchange for employment? You're the man who's got to keep the lies straight, so come up with something plausible and easy to remember. But it's your ass on the line..."

The bow-light on the steamboat is lit, and someone seems to have rigged electroplasm over to the steamship. There is a faint light from the upper floors, but the place seems still. With your attuned senses, however, you see a faint ghost echo from the ship. There is a spirit there, a guard, or a prisoner, you don't know.

[ShadowImmor]

Sorry for the slow replies in the last couple of days, work's been kicking my butt.

Arden nods, and thanks the lady for her help. After giving the Steamboat a full once over, he pauses for a moment, debating the best approach. Before getting a little bored and simply calling out his presence.

"Good evening? Is anyone there? I have a matter of utmost import to discuss with you."

He waits patiently for a response from the boat or even from the spirit he senses.

[dojango]

Arden sees the ghostly figure drift towards him. At first it takes on the form of one of the dread spirits haunting the wastes, but as Arden shows no fear, it morphs into the faint figure of a well-dressed man. "The Masters are not in at the moment," it says. "If you would care to leave a message... although, the masters return. Their time is valuable, do not waste it, young man." The ghost points down the river. You can see a sailboat approaching the dock.

[Ramsus]

Kione at some points sets aside her normal attire, in which people would recognize her as Pepper, and cleans up. Then sneaks off somewhere and changes into the attire of her other alias, the mysterious Miss Orchid in the Breeze.
So disguised, she pays a visit to the other barge in her life, the Silver Swan. She greets the other patrons with faint smiles and nods of the head and quiet spoken words as she breezes through over to Eldrin Pritchard, the owner of the establishment. She inquires about the well being of the girl Pepper had rescued before, both as an honest inquiry and a suggestion that she might like to spend some time with her in one of the rooms. She also lets Eldrin know she'll partake of whatever beverage or substance he suggests as a proper pairing for her companion of the evening.
In general, Kione just enjoys herself and enjoys being someone other than "herself" for a bit.


Vice roll: [roll0]

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

Lucren struts about the nearby streets with a specially tailored green coat with long tails. A pin with his family crest holds most of his long hair out of his face. His nearly white pants excentuates the green of his coat and his shoes.

---

When he is approached by Ifriti he clears his throat and gives her a gentleman's bow.

"Good day." He then lowers his voice as he speaks this next line. "Please refrain from using that name in public." He then goes back to a normal vocal volume. "I would enjoy joining you in your endeavor. I do, also, know someone who would be interested in joining us. Perhaps we can approach her along the way."


Lucren will be approaching his friend Roslyn to join him and Ifriti with her need to put something special together.

[Ramsus]

"Very good then. Lead the way please." Ifriti replies. As they walk off she comments, "You didn't mention what I should call you. You may call me Sitre, Miss Talibah, or Professor Talibah as it suits you and the circumstance."

[dojango]

Lady Roslyn Kellis, youngest daughter of the First Sea Lord Kellis presents a very unladylike figure, dressed in a formal men's tuxedo, expertly tailored, an archaic rapier at her hip. She is smoking a nasty-smelling cigarillo, and is trailed by a very nervous looking maid. She approaches Lucren and Sitre. "Oy, Lucren. You said you're visiting Dunridge's? I can get you an appointment, sure. Got another damned ball at the Bowmore's to go to. That old coot. You free tomorrow evening? Who's that chick? You got a new girl you ain't told me about?"

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

"Sorry, Sitre, I had assumed you knew my name or at least my family." He points at the hair pin in his hair. "Please call me Lucren. My father is Mr. Novida, a trader from Tycheros." Lucren's monkey-like tail rustles the tail of his coat.

"What about you? What is your history?"

---

"Good day Roslyn, this is my new friend Sitre. She is a professor of both knowledge and fine attire.

As for how we met, let us say that she enjoys the same activities as I do." A sly smirk appears upon his lips.

[Ramsus]

"Ah. I am indeed familiar with the name Novida. A most interesting family trade." Sitre comments.
"As for myself, well we don't know each other so well that I will share all of the details. I was born in U'duasha and there I was a scholar, though I doubt even if you ran in those circles you would have heard of me. Some events caused me to think it was finally time to see other places and learn in the halls of other academies, so I came here to Doskvol and took on a job at Doskvol Academy as a professor. Then I found out this crew had a pair of books I had been keeping an eye out for and so helped arrange a trade with my countryman Ms. Klev who I had dealt with a few times before. Events then unfolded that I became an official member of the crew." she answers Lucren's question and finishes with a shrug at the end as if to say "I'm really not quite sure how that happened. Oh well."

Sitre gives Lucren a smile at the compliment of "professor of fine attire" and then turns back to Roslyn. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance Lady Kellis. Yes, I asked Lucren here if he would accompany me and if he had anyone with a good feminine perspective to accompany us." At this point she looks at Lucren and back to Rosyln's tuxedo and back to Lucren with an amused smirk and before she can stop herself asks, "I suppose you felt you were adequate for the role I thought was lacking and not the one I assumed you would fill?"

[ShadowImmor]

Arden sees the ghostly figure drift towards him. At first it takes on the form of one of the dread spirits haunting the wastes, but as Arden shows no fear, it morphs into the faint figure of a well-dressed man. "The Masters are not in at the moment," it says. "If you would care to leave a message... although, the masters return. Their time is valuable, do not waste it, young man." The ghost points down the river. You can see a sailboat approaching the dock.

Arden smiles softly.

"Then I will wait here if that's quite alright with your sir."

He then finds a crate nearby and sits down on it, waiting patiently for the owners of the boat to return.

[Ramsus]

Some time passes by as Arden waits and eventually Pepper, Ifriti, and Smoke show up. Pepper is the first to spot the stranger looking around pointedly and at their ship, so as she walks over she calls out, "Can we help you?" in a tone that implies the speaker is ready for violence if this is going to be a violence required thing.

[ShadowImmor]

Arden smiles disarmingly as they approach, opening up his body language to say "I'm not a threat." he stands and once they are close enough, he speaks.

"AH! Excellent, you must be the owners of this this ship. I have come to offer my services, I am a man with some knowledge of the Arcane. Arden Winthrope at your service."

He bows low taking off his hat and doing a flourish with it at the same time. He remains in the bow for a heartbeat or two longer than would be expected before straightening.

[Ramsus]

Pepper (though to Arden everyone looks about the same as they're still in their disguises) seems about to say something when Ifriti taps her on the shoulder and whispers into her ear, "I know this kid. He was a student at the academy but had to drop out due to lack of funds. He was a good student. I'm not sure what he's doing here though. For now I'll let you do the talking since if I speak he might recognize my voice."

After the hushed whispering of the whisper, Pepper takes a few steps closer to Arden and says, "A Whisper as they call it here? Ok. And why do you want to join us?"

[ShadowImmor]

Arden keeps his smile up while he speaks.

"Simply put, I am in need of funds. I was pointed towards you by a gentleman interested in purchasing something he seems to believe you have. I said I would look it over, but I also realised that I could be of assistance to you in a more, permanent context, and also help myself in the process."

He watches the others carefully, as if expecting it could explode any minute, but he doesn't appear to want to be the one to light the keg, so to speak.

[Ramsus]

Pepper seems to mull this over for a minute and then says, "Alright sure. We could use more pairs of hands. First I want to know who we'd be selling to. Second... hmm. How about you do something to prove your value before we let you on our ship and let you look through our valuables huh?"
As she says this she looks to the others to see if they're in agreement. Ifriti nods and they both look over to Smoke.

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

Smoke shrugs his shoulders.

"It wasn't too long ago that I joined up. Plus, I hear the crew lost a few members before I showed up."

"If he's able and willing, I can't see why he couldn't try to prove himself as valuable contributor."

There is a silent look that Smoke gives Pepper as he says the last line. An implied question as to wondering if he has yet proved himself hangs within his gaze.

[Ramsus]

Pepper returns Smoke's look with one of incredulity, wondering if he didn't get how valuable he was on the job they just finished.

[ShadowImmor]

Arden's smile gets slightly wider.

"Of course. I am happy to help. I understand that you are, how should I say it, delivery men so to speak. What task would you have me do that you feel could be helpful? Perhaps once I've finished whatever this task is, I can see if you have other trinkets that may be more valuable that first believed. Or draw up a manifest and do some grunt work for you? As to the gentleman who referred me to you, well, he prizes his anonymity, and he is a student of the Arcane, like myself. Beyond that, I know very little. One can hardly refuse a job offer when you are in my situation."

He looks at each member of the group as he speaks, trying to gauge any reactions to his answer.

Edit: Included reference to his "employer"

[Ramsus]

"If you're joining us, you're doing so on more or less equal footing. So stop with the appeasing stuff ok? Just, figure something out that's useful. Go get people out of our wake or something like that." Pepper replies.
Then she adds, "Still waiting on the name of that client."

[Feirgon]

Lucren Novida, aka Smoke

Adventures in Tailoring

Lucren smiles at Sitre.

"You stated a need and I do believe I have provided an adequate solution. It was not like you were very specific in your requirements."

A sly twinkle appears in his eyes.

"Roslyn, my friend here is in need of some opinions in style. Would you be interested in joining us?"

[dojango]

Roslyn holds out her arm for Lucren to take. Her eyes had glazed over at the word 'professor', and as they walk away, she says, "I would be delighted, Lucren. If your friend's needs are so... limited... it should be trivial to find something for her." And with that, she strides down the street towards the tailor's shop, her maid scurrying behind the group.

[Ramsus]

Adventures in Tailoring

After getting to Dunridge & Sons, Sitre lets Lucren and Roslyn know she's looking for something that isn't brightly colorful and ostentatious as a costume for "work", but is still stylish. After spending a lot of time looking at this or that and asking their opinions, she settles on getting a custom order of a catsuit with an attached hood made of snakeskin. Along with matching gloves and boots of course.

Of course during this time she offers her own opinion on whatever items Lucren and Roslyn are interested in too.

[ShadowImmor]

Arden chuckles lightly at the response from Pepper.

"Very well, if you insist. I merely assumed that you would not want me as 'full partner' until I had proven myself in more than just this small way. If you would like me to ensure there are no people following you, perhaps you could tell me what your last delivery job was? And where? That way I can point people in the opposite direction or ensure that it appears you were there for legitimate reasons? If you do not wish to divulge that information to me, I could speak to the Bluecoats about... well... what do you call yourselves?"

After the response he continues.

"Yes quite, I could speak to a Bluecoat about you and ask him to see if he can 'forget' about you, though, I confess I would perhaps require some coin to do such a thing as I am a little thin on the ground myself at this time."

[Ramsus]

Pepper shrugs and has an amused grin, "It would be awkward to have only one person as an underling, I guess you can count yourself lucky and you got a promotion from joining early. Since our last job actually turned out to be legitimate, a fun story I'll tell you later, yeah. That angle wouldn't work."

Ifriti lets out a little groan at the accidental pun made. Pepper gives a sigh and continues, "We're called the Anglers. It wasn't the idea of anyone here in case you're wondering."

At the request for cash Pepper looks at Ifriti who nods and then turns back to Arden and hands over a palm full of scales (as this kind of currency is called). "You don't have to worry about paying that back.... if you do a good job." she says, not really in a threatening way. Though it certainly would have been if Ifriti wasn't vouching for him.

[ShadowImmor]

Arden smiles again politely at the response.

"A legitimate job hmm? Well isn't that interesting. It is good to know you're not always scoundrels"

He smiles disarmingly, clearly meaning it as a small joke.

"The Anglers eh? Have you not thought about changing your name? Perhaps that would also serve to throw people off your trail?"

Taking the handful of scales, Arden seems a bit at odds for a moment, as if it's been a while since he had enough money to just give away a handful of coins.

"Very well, I will endeavour to do something of some small value. I assume if I return here you will be still on this boat docked? Or are you planning on leaving soon?"

[Ramsus]

"A name change wouldn't do much, even if we could somehow enforce it kid. Think it through. If the Crows started calling themselves the Cows, it wouldn't fool anyone of anything. The only thing that would accomplish is making people question our reliability." Pepper replies with a scoff.

"It'll be here for a while longer. If you take too long and we move it, I'm sure a bright lad like you will be able to track it down again eh?" She replies, rather noncommittally, just to give Arden a bit of a hard time for her own amusement.