Post Here.Say something like "Hi". I will link the discussion thread shortly
hi
Sipping your drink, you recline in your chair. A hard days work of being a bard is done, and now it's time for the fun Spying a girl in the corner, you slide out of your chair and begin to walk over to her. With every step, it gets harder and harder to continue walking. You're getting dizzy, lights are flashing everywhere, and does that woman....have claws? You collapse and hit the floor, your drink spilling all over you clothes
Snapping awake, you begin to thrash. Your surroundings are blurry, but you blink a couple times and it gets better. It appears that you are chained up.
The dark room is suddenly illuminated as a man carrying a torch walls in. You can see that in the other hand, he is holding a blood stained butcher knife. Stop struggling tiny man. Or I will kill you. Now, I ask you a question, and you WILL answer it truth fully. What business do you have with the Wings of the Republic company
Yawning, you stretch your stubby arms and think about the day. You have just finished several hours of making plans and schemes to control the throne of Poland. The plans have ranged from a complete military take over, which has been ruled out, since it could attract too much attention and prevent any potential clients from within the Divine Alliance (Poland, Scotland, Italias, United Empire, and the Church of Celest) from hiring you, to a subtle approach of influencing whoever is King. Of course, there remains the private matter of ensuring that the side you are actually working for, The Loyalists, somehow gain control of the Throne of Poland. Sighing, you stare at the newspaper clippings laid out in front of you, with titles like: House Warsaw expands towards Silk Road! House Lancaster expands into Silk Road! Earl of Lancaster at a Opium Den! Rash of Opium overdoses may be linked to the "Buccaneers"! and Opium discovered near the silk road!
You also have heard these rumors:
The Buccaneers own several Opium Dens, and have a monopoly on the drug
The Polish West Trading Company wants to take over the silk road (Which is connected to Poland), and they might have criminal connections
The Earl of Lancaster and the Earl of Wessex are in a feud.
Scotland is trying to take over Poland
The previous king is currently being made a lich, to rule even in undeath
Kneeling before the altar of Celest, you attempt to let your thoughts clear. It has been over 3 months since you last visited a Church and prayed to your deity, and you know that exacting his divine justice is no good excuse for not praying. You can hear a small "Tsk, Tsk, Tsk" in the back of your head as your hands place the holy symbol on the floor. Not sure if it is Celest or your imagination, you send a silent "Sorry" into the back of your mind, and light the 7 candles that are arranged in a circle on the floor. You have no idea how to go about securing the throne of Poland, and you believe that Celest will show you the way, using his holy light as a beacon through these dark times. There is nothing to do but close you eyes and kneel, and that is exactly what you do.
Around an hour later, a few words begin to materialize in you head. Then more, then even more. At first, they are gibberish, but, then, they form words. NO. Startled, you rock back a bit Poland was our holy ally during troubling times. Fate will choose the next leader, and I forbid you from intervening With that, Celest retreats from your mind, leaving you confused.
You have heard these rumors:
The Buccaneers own several Opium Dens, and have a monopoly on the drug
The Polish West Trading Company wants to take over the silk road (Which is connected to Poland), and they might have criminal connections
The Earl of Lancaster and the Earl of Wessex are in a feud.
Scotland is trying to take over Poland
The previous king is currently being made a lich, to rule even in undeath
What do you do?
The butcher leans towards you, a devilish grin on his hideous, scarred, face. You flinch away, but he grabs you face and holds it in a vice like grip, forcing you to stare at his face. You're lying, tiny man. He holds the knife up to your finger Now answer truthfully, or this ones the first to go. I know Namo has not been kidnapped. WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING. HERE?
The butcher begins to slowly cut in towards your finger. You feel tremendous pain in your left hand, but your finger has not been cut off....yet. Tell me the truth, tiny man. The whole truth. Why were you in Poland?
Well.... this isn't good.
Darwin leaves and goes to the nearest gunsmith. Slipping his pistol under his cloak, he heads out into the street.
You look around, but it seems that there are no gunsmiths around. Everyone speaks Polish and Scottish. No one appears to speak English or French. You feel as if no one around here recognizes the superiority of guns, compared to the measly blade. Of course, there are numerous blacksmiths around. And, according to rumors, one appears to have contacts with criminals....who might have guns
Darwin tries to find his way, instead, to the roughest part of town, going to a tavern.
Tell me tiny, man.. He spits on the floor. Tell me....this opium..how much do you know about it..
As you head towards the rougher parts of town, you notice large gangs of young men and women gathering in shady alleys. Ignoring them, you head to a hole-in-the-wall tavern with a broken sign that labels it as the "Beggar Kings Tap". You push open the door, and see a few tables, with rough, scarred, people sitting at them. A bar is at the far wall, with a gnomish bartender (with a eye patch) manning it.
The butcher pulls back his knife and smashes you in the face with the handle. He turns towards the door and shouts in Polish, and, in a few seconds, 10 men dressed in rags and brandishing flintlocks rush in. 2 of the walk towards you and calmly undo your chains. The butcher quickly shoves you against a wall, before smiling and laughing in a deep, throaty, belly laugh that causes him to bend over and start shaking. Straightening, he stands up and says Congratulations. You work for us now
The Bartender gives another, deep, throaty laugh, this one lasting around 4 minutes. He finally recovers, and with a cold, hard, face, he simply replies No. He shoves you forward, through the door, through a hallway, and into another room. This room is quite small, and only has a table and a chair, along with a pile of what appears to be long cigars stuffed with a green material. The butcher instructs you to sit down, picks up a cigar, lights it, and stuffs it in your mouth. Smoke. All of them. Or you will die
Darwin sits at the bar.
Your cheapest ale.
He glances around the room, and looks for signs of gangs. A gun might not be available, I might need to get a blade. Either way, the best arms may come from these guys.
The bartender pulls out a glass of what is plainly water with a edible dye inside.
Make a perception check
The cigars give you a feeling you have never felt before. True, true, happiness. It feels as if the camaraderie you have been feeling with you friends is false. This, this is true happiness. Of course, this feeling soon wears off. But, of course, there are still more cigars... So many more....
You see a glimmer of hope at the end of the dark spiral you just entered. It slowly, ever so painfully closes, and it seems that your one glimmer of hope has just disappeared. You reach for the closing hole, and instead grab another cigar. Perhaps smoking another one will make the light come back
The glimmer of light return once more. You reach for it, ignoring the darkness. You manage to pull yourself or of the spiral, and you look at the costs with distaste
Om, talk on Google hangouts?
You run towards the door, and try and open it, but it seems that it is locked. You remember that there are two guards outside, and try and calm your nervous heartbeat. Looking around, you can see a small, barred window, and nothing else.
The guards open the door, amused looks on their faces. And how will this benefit us?
50, each. And contracts with your company
The guards nod, and one hands you a small dagger and a flintlock. Brandishing muskets, there begin head towards the hall way, and motion for you to hide behind a couple of crates. As they duck behind the cover, they point towards 8 guards in front of you. We have to take then out
Surprise round, Om!
Osborn
Aguard1
Aguard2
Then, normal round commences
[spoiler=dm]Osborn whispers You 2 shoot at another guard ass soon as I kill one Osborn tries to sneak behind one of the closest guard and attacks with his Flintlock
The two guards carrying crates continue walking away from you, but they quickly turn around as another guard spots you and shouts. You quickly point your pistol and fire wildly.
The musket ball rips through the armor of the nearest guard, causing a massive wound.
One of your two new "allies" fires, aiming for the guard beside you, who is currently pulling out a musket with a wickedly serrated bayonet.
The musket ball zips past, narrowly hitting your head, and smashing into the frame of the door.
The other gang member aims at nearest guard, and fires
That musket ball also misses, and harmlessly slams into a crate.
The 4 nearest guards quickly try and stab at you with bayonets
All 4 bayonets stab out at you, impaling you and their barbed tips
Well, I did ask for the cheapest.
Darwin gulps down the water.
You notice quite a few gang signs, like tattoos, bandanas, and scars. Those who those marks are tough looking, and have their hands on hidden weapons
You hear a tap, tap at the window, and, looking up, you can see a raven, two scrolls in its break, sitting on the window ledge. After you open the window, it hops in, drops the scrolls, and disappears. Picking up one of the scrolls, you find the following message:
The time has come. We must make our move, and implicate the rebels for our actions. Upon the other scroll is a spell of disguise. Cast it on yourself, and sneak out of the building. Then, head to the abandoned warehouse on 6th Street. You will receive your instructions there. Burn this letter. Good luck, and Godspeed, soldier.