Game Thread Pilot Downtime: The Denver Debrief - RPG Crossing
RPG Crossing Home Forums Create An Account! Site Rules & Help

RPG Crossing
Go Back   RPG Crossing > Games > Other Roleplaying Games > 1,000,000 Ways to Die in the Weird West (Modern AGE)
twitter facebook

Notices

Reply
 
Thread Tools
  #1  
Old May 31st, 2021, 02:51 PM
MoldyNolds's Avatar
MoldyNolds MoldyNolds is offline
Dripping with Alchemy
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 15th, 2021
RPXP: 7431
MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds
Posts: 1,675
Pilot Downtime: The Denver Debrief

August 21st, 22nd, & 23rd, 1885. Trail from Yellow Ledge to Denver.



Indeed the trip to Denver was uneventful. Two days of trail-riding with fair weather and minimal distractions left Li Jie, Dr. Ouzo, and Nao plenty of time to reflect on the events that unfolded in Yellow Ledge. Slatterbaugh seemed convinced there was a plot to uncover behind Mr. Croup's appearance, and the brief conversation that the shadowy demon had with the prospector and half-demon Li Jie seemed only to support that theory. There was money to be made and danger to confront should the trio decide to travel that road. Additionally, if the Empire got wind that an Ore Baron had rounded up a posse to investigate demonic portals outside of the law they could find themselves gaining attention from either the government, the Church, or both. They would need to exercise a certain amount of discretion.

Other than the odd bit of wildlife sighted at times they encountered nothing that would hold up their pace. Not a single traveler it would seem had the notion of heading towards Yellow Ledge, although with time and the news of their success spreading that would hopefully soon change. Jamul, Xochitl, and Nudillos took to the dusty trail as naturally as any mount could and they made time as expected. Just as the sun was hitting its xenith on their second day of travel and the heat had begun beating down on the group they caught sight of a structure on the horizon. Upon approach they happened upon a building in the middle of its construction where the small, barely-used trail that brought them South from Yellow Ledge intersected with a much more well-used path. So well-used, in fact, it should probably be identified as a road. Not paved, though the hard-packed dirt had obviously been traveled on for many years, worn so flat that wagon wheels could find no rut. Drainage channels had been carved along both sides and a small mound of rocks stretched out along its borders keeping weeds and debris from encroaching onto the avenue. Wide enough for two full-sized covered wagons to pass by each other with room to spare, the road ran Northeast to Southwest. A wooden post sported several rugged-looking planks giving directions to travelers such as these three, with arrows pointing in different directions:
  • Rapid City - 232 miles pointed along the road towards the Northeast.
  • Denver - 40 miles pointed Southwest.
  • Granite Pits - 12 miles pointed directly East where a trail about as rugged as the one the trio had just left stretched down into some sort of valley on the horizon. A hammered copper plaque had been attached directly beneath it proclaiming "Baron Fonnereaux's property. Trespassers will be shot!"
  • Yellow Ledge - 56 miles pointed back in the direction they had come from. On this same plank, biting roughly into the wood someone had carved a crude rendition of a demon's head.
  • Lodgepole Creek - 2 miles pointed off to the West. Another carving adorned this plank. Not a demon but definitely menacing, it looked like a fish with fangs and an arrow or spear right next to it.
The construction project was being attended to by perhaps a dozen laborers doing a myriad of tasks; off-loading wood, bricks, and other materials from a horse-drawn wagon. A couple of the more skilled workers were actually erecting beams and supports for the building. Everyone was overseen by a feline-anthro standing atop the driver's section of the wagon, shouting orders and making sure no one was lolly-gagging. The cat eyed the group warily upon their approach but nodded in a familiar, if curt, gesture of greeting. Another sign, separate from the directions, announced to anyone who passed near that this was apparently the "Future site of Harlow's Oasis!"

Too far from Denver to reach it this day but with too much daylight left to strike camp for the night, the group continued on...



left-aligned image
It didn't take long in their travels on their third day to catch sight of Denver. The city lay in a natural depression in the ground, too shallow to be called a proper valley but situated at the base of Mt. Pyeha. Not part of the Rocky Mountains which still lay several hundred miles to the West, this medium-sized mountain nonetheless rose from the horizon well before the city itself was visible. Ringed with a thick wall and manned by a platoon of the Empire's Frontier Guard, Denver sprawled out in front of Ouzo, Li Jie, and Nao.

At over 100,000 residents, Denver was not only the Protectorate's most populous city, but its most cosmopolitan as well. People from all over the world flocked to the center of the West to live, trade, and risk it all on business propositions and flights of fancy. Walk down any one block and you might find a Colonial mogul, a First craftsman, a Quilmaguan trader, and a Masonite huckster, each with their own dialect and sense of style. It has become such a melting pot that when famous author Alexandre Dumas visited he quoted a line from The Count of Monte Cristo: "I adopt every custom, I speak every tongue." The phrase resonated with so many in the city that in less than a year it became the unofficial motto of the populace and at the city's ten-year anniversary celebration the Mayor had it ceremonially immortalized.

It is also a city of fortifications; many buildings feature at least one watchtower and it is not uncommon for stretches of buildings to band together and block off their common alleyways with walls or gates. Those with obscene fortune or backing from the Empire have hellstone reinforcements on their roofs, windows, doors, and/or walls. While demon attacks are not common occurrences by any means they have happened in the past, and those with wealth tend to become paranoid about keeping it. Structures are otherwise built almost exclusively from stone or metal. Wooden walls are an uncommon sight here, as are single-story buildings. Most rise at least three stories which can create a sense of claustrophobia for those that enjoy wide open spaces, or a sense of comfort for those looking to wrap themselves in the urbane. Works of technology jut out proudly from almost every establishment and, indeed, have become synonymous with the style of architecture displayed both in the Empire proper and the larger cities in its Protectorate. Large sections of pipe, spinning gears, electrical generators, mechanical and pneumatic actuators, and all manner of arcanely powered doodads are unavoidably visible from every street corner.

Districts within Denver are haphazard, mis-managed, and seemingly change based on the season. A row of stately townhouses may face well-to-do merchant shops across the street in the Spring only to find themselves staring at flophouses and gambling dens by the heat of Summer and then "legitimate" businesses by the first snowfall. Only the citizenry have any semblance of explanation for the ever-shifting flow of coin and property. As recent residents of the city Nao, Dr. Ouzo, and Li Jie have seen firsthand some of this nebulous shifting, but may or may not be able to predict or explain it just yet.



right-aligned image
The trio barely had enough time to pass through Denver's thick walls and readjust to the overwhelming sensation of being surrounded by people, technology, and magic before they were approached by a man. Or rather, Ouzo was approached by a man as he very pointedly moved to stand in front of the doctor and not the other two. Entirely unassuming, the man was dressed in a brown wool suit with a black bowler hat and thick mustache. He made sure to make eye contact with Ouzo and handed him a slip of paper before turning halfway to the side and waiting for Ouzo and the others to follow wherever he was going to lead them.

Bowler Hat moved at a brisk walk, seemingly entirely confident that the others were going to follow him. He led them down several of Denver's main thoroughfares for nearly twenty minutes before coming to a series of connected buildings that, whether or not Ouzo had been inside previously he knew to be The Bureau; the headquarters for the Pinkerton Agency not only in Denver, but the entire Protectorate. The complex spanned an entire city block, completely blocked off by exterior walls except for a single alleyway straddled by two watchtowers and blocked with a solid iron gate. Bowler Hat looked up to one tower and made a complex series of motions involving his hand and the brim of his hat and the gate immediately shuddered with a *clang* as one side opened on its own, permitting entry. After being wordlessly asked to dismount, what followed was a series of courtyards, entry halls, staircases, hallways, and rooms that started out rather mundane but quickly became You may choose to make a TN15 WIL (Self-Discipline) OR a TN17 PER (Tracking) test if you wish. Success means you are able to get at least a sense of where you are being taken. Failure or refusal to make a test means you are hopelessly lost with no idea where you are or how to get out!


increasingly confusing and convoluted not only in their design, but also in the path they were being taken. Every door they passed through looked exactly like the previous one. Every hallway was exactly the same length with the same number of doors, the same carpeting, and the same paintings hanging on the wall. Every window looked out onto the same courtyard with the same stone fountain, even after being taken up and down several identical-looking sets of staircases.


At some indeterminable point in time it became clear that the group was no longer above ground. The windows stopped appearing and the white-washed hallways turned darker, constructed from rough-hewn stone blocks that seemed wet to the touch. Exposed light bulbs with exposed wiring hung from the ceiling and dimly lit the passageway. A series of iron doors flanked the group as they move forward, each one affixed with a small viewing window held closed by a shutter. Wherever they were, it was clear this part of the complex was meant to be kept very secret and very secure. Eventually Bowler Hat stopped at one of the doors issuing a single, solid knock with his fist. The shutter opened from the inside and a pair of eyes peered out for a moment before a heavy latch sounded from inside and the door opened.

left-aligned image
right-aligned image
Bowler Hat remained outside as Ouzo, Li Jie, and Nao entered. Inside was a similarly dark room lit by a single bulb. It gave off just enough light to illuminate the two individuals standing within, along with a simple metal desk and two chairs. A number of leather folders lay spread across the desk. One of the individuals was, oddly enough, a nun. Or rather, someone dressed in a tactically militarized version of a nun's habit. The woman was short, barely over five feet, with thin-framed round spectacles. The habit covered any hair she may or may not have had, though the entire right sleeve and right section of her dress was missing, exposing bare flesh. Her torso was covered by a vest and harnessed with all manner of pouches and accoutrement one could only ascribe to a soldier of fortune. The Church was known for being on the cutting edge of military technology, and while automatic weapons were known to exist in the Empire, the sub-machine gun strapped to her thigh was perhaps an entirely unexpected sight out here in the West. A metallic cross was affixed over one breast and on the other a nameplate identified the woman as simply "Marisol".

The other was a man. A gentleman to be precise, he immediately gave off a dapper vibe not wholly unlike the one Ouzo had cultivated for himself. Though whereas Ouzo's style was fashioned to be "poor man's gentleman" and ultimately forgettable, this man definitely screamed "man of means and leisure" and his threads could not be ignored. He dressed himself in a stylish white lounge suit with a turquoise cravat and a pink and green vest. The white wingtips and ruby ring on his forefinger probably cost more than all the equipment and mounts the entire trio brought into Denver put together. The entire ensemble would clash horribly if he didn't wear it with such laissez-faire confidence.

"Dr. Ouzo, it iz a pleasure to meet you. I am Inspector Robetaille. Thank you and your friends for accepting my invitation on such short notice." His accent was thick and immediately placed him as French Canadian, and the insinuation that Ouzo could have declined was nothing more than a courteous formality. "You come highly recommended by Inspector Gittes in matters of... peculiarity. Zis," he motioned to the woman with his walking cane, "iz Sister Marisol from ze Church. Sister, zis iz Doctor Ouzo, Li Jie, and Nao." Despite never having been introduced previously, the man seemed to know everyone present here. "My apologies for ze curt introductions, but as you will soon see, we 'ave limited time to bring you up to speed on zis matter. I could try to explain why I brought you here, and I will shortly, but perhaps it iz better to show you first." He motioned once again with his cane, this time to the wall opposite the door, which turned out to be not a wall, but a window that spanned fifteen feet wide and ran nearly floor-to-ceiling. It opened into a dark room, darker than the one they currently occupied. Robetaille moved to one side of the glass and turned a dial. As electricity slowly poured into the lights in the room beyond the window revealed a number of fracture points in the glass that spider-webbed across the pane. And there was something else. Something moving in the diminishing shadows... and it was large...

OOC

Lore Unlocked: Denver!
Lore Unlocked: The Pinkertons!
Lore Unlocked: Inspector Robetaille!
Lore Unlocked: The Church!
Lore Unlocked: Sister Marisol!


Important NPC's
 

Attached Thumbnails
Click image for larger version

Name:	Plains.png
Views:	92
Size:	131.3 KB
ID:	91220   Click image for larger version

Name:	Denver.png
Views:	97
Size:	354.7 KB
ID:	91221  
__________________
He/Him | I have taken the Oath of Sangus
Currently GM'ing: 1,000,000 Ways to Die in the Weird West (it's publicly viewable!)
Current Characters: Prince Brucían Pough | Rolf da Minek | Kyai Applecore | Vittoro Gabríka de Campos

Last edited by MoldyNolds; Jun 9th, 2021 at 06:34 AM.
Reply With Quote
  #2  
Old Jun 2nd, 2021, 06:44 PM
Verdant Glitter's Avatar
Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter is offline
Community Supporter
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 16th, 2021
RPXP: 2033
Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter
Posts: 664
Somewhere Secret, Somewhere Dark
right-aligned image
"Are your garments all spotless, are they white as the snow? Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?
Is your soul all spotless, is it clean as the snow? Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?
I am washed. I am washed. I am washed in the blood of the Lamb...
I am clean and spotless, I am pure like the snow, I am washed in the blood of the Lamb.
"

Can you hear it? Of course you can. The dusky rumble of song, feather-soft, lurid, twin voices just out of sync, perhaps voiced since before the group arrived, or during, or just after. The not-so-subtle groan of steel rasped against steel, identifiable as large chains to those of the proper familiarity. The gentle crack of bone, dry and dusty.

"Have you laid down your troubles, have you found a rest? Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?
I've laid down all my troubles, found peace and rest. I'm all washed in the blood of the Lamb.
I am washed. I am washed. I am washed in the blood of the Lamb...
I am clean and spotless, I am pure like the snow, I am washed in the blood of the Lamb.
"

Can you see it? Of course you can. Perhaps you wish you hadn't, or perhaps you are inured to such visions by what lurks in the West's wastes. They say that the mind creates the horrors in the dark, and that nothing beneath the Sun can match what terrors it can conceive. Does the image of a foul monstrosity, penned in a fortified underground cell in a Pinkerton facility and weighted with the same category of chains that holds anchors, dim electrical light casting its alien features into half-shadowed relief, the towering splinter of antlers, the sticky scarlet painting the unmoving jaw, the matted grey fur, the prominent jut of bone against hide, the long, long body like some hellish mustelid twined within and about its bondage, the shaggy fur framing sinewy animal haunches and the stone-splintering hooves they end in, compare to the giddy horrors of the imagination?

"Have you learned to love your neighbors, all colors, creeds, and kind? Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?
I've learned to love my
peoples all colors, creeds, and kinds - I'm all washed in the blood of the Lamb.
I am washed. I am washed. I am washed in the blood of the Lamb.
I am clean, and spotless, I am pure like the snow. I am washed. In the blood. Of the Lamb.
"

Can you feel it? Of course you can. The pregnant aura of an untold malevolence, caged behind the spider-webbed cracks of never-thick-enough glass. A cataclysmic pressure building within the enclosure, in the milk-blind eyes sunk deep in the hollow sockets of the leering expressionless skull. The weight of countless eons' malice, radiating from this creature torn out of a nightmare, tactile even through the seemingly flimsy barrier that separates them. It moves only slightly, cradled as it is by chains as thick as a man's arm, but even then there is a peculiar unnaturalness in the shifting - Too floaty, too... off-frame like a moving picture with a singular entity out of sync with the rest. And it never quite stops, some errant bit twitching or shifting or adjusting. And why shouldn't she? Chains are not the most comfortable of bondage, after all. Metal chafes. They couldn't even spare padding, the monsters. And every shift and quiver carries it with the sounds of crackling bone, as if every movement splinters her own.

A slow breath swells the subtle curve of anorexic rib and fur-dusted breast, the only readily defining trait that might give a clue to its gender - Its mirrored voice errs toward the feminine but is in no way a hard identifier - and is jettisoned in a long current against the cracked glass; along the tendrils of the splintered pane forms frost, branching wherever the misting breath rolls. The wet animal jaws of the otherwise polished bone of the skull split - A grin? A grimace? What expression can you peel away from a featureless skull? A long, black tongue seethes out of the blackness between the mandibles, licks away some crimson streaks from the maw. "Ahhhh, warden, no more vissssitors today," she thrums, the wicked fangs clacking shut. The jaw needn't move for speech to be ushered forth; there isn't even bone or ligament that should allow it to work, least of all a fleshy throat! Perhaps hidden beneath the halo of the wild and filthy mane? "The last ones haven't yet been cleaned up. Or, are they - Mmmr, test subjects? See what makes me t-ick? More hooks, more knives, more bullets, more prayer? I should think it is a crime to, hmhm, torture your prisoners. Ohhh, or are they more political dissidents you wish to dispose of, hmm? Nnnnew people! I can smell your meat! I do hope you haven't done anything - Rebellious. What delicious nightmares they cage in these walls! What a factory of horrific erasure and disposal! Hmhmhmhmhm! Ahhh, waaarden, waaarden, waaarden, waaarden~"

Heavily muffled though they may be, the ramblings of the beast are like liquid treacle to the ear, bleeding through the fractured glass as it does but assuredly coiling in the ear, and every purred repetition to her captor carries with it a lazy to-fro swing of the massive form, strained just enough that the long and spidery digits ending in long and spidery claws can reach to *tap* - *tap* - *tap* against the only barrier between her cell and the viewing room. Who knows what of her speech is truth or lie, threat or mockery, or simply the murmured ravings of a mad beast? Maybe there is a kernel of each. Maybe she simply enjoys being a pest to her jailers. The pure lack of concern for her seemingly precarious position certainly speaks of insanity... or a definitive belief that she is in no particular danger.


The Wendigo
 
Reply With Quote
  #3  
Old Jun 5th, 2021, 05:13 PM
Reistar Reistar is offline
Mature Adult Dragon
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 12th, 2021
RPXP: 1423
Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar
Posts: 346
Denver
left-aligned image
Returning to Denver was a…. comfortable feeling for Nao. There was a sense of familiarity since it was the place she had most recently resided before being kidnapped to Yellow Ledge. Nao was an adaptable sort, and didn’t feel much claustrophobia from the cramped streets and increase in people. She hadn’t quite gotten over her wonder at all the mechanical doodads and technological marvels, however; indeed, being a traveler at heart the Japanese sharpshooter might never run out of awe and fascination with the new and different. Nao was surprised, however, to feel a certain amount of wistfulness for Yellow Ledge and its residents. She had never really missed a place before. She didn’t have time to dwell on the feeling before being led away yet again with no choice. Nao grumbled silently to herself. She was getting rather tired of feeling like she had no choice in things.

Her annoyance only grew when she ended up hopelessly lost in the Pinkerton building and Inspector Robetaille seemed to know who she was even though she had no knowledge of him. Plus the Church had a hand in this, if Sister Marisol was any indication. Nao was very wary of the Church, as they tended to take a dim view of people like her. Too much power and arrogance in her opinion.

And then….Every feeling and emotion at that precise moment went right out of her head when she saw the thing behind the glass. Every hair on her body stood straight up and she had to fight not to shift out of pure instinct. Although whether she would have shifted to a predator or something small to run away, even Nao couldn’t have said. Just anything that wasn’t human. She felt cold sweat dripping down the small of her back and her teeth were clenched so hard she could hear them creaking over the chilling noises the thing was making. Taking deep breaths, Nao forced herself to study the creature. A sense of morbid fascination took over. This form was surely death incarnate. Where had it come from, what did it want, and perhaps most importantly, why were the Inspector and the Nun showing it to her, Jie, and Ouzo. What was the saying….Out of the frying pan and into the flames?


OOC
 



Nao's Statblock
 

Last edited by Reistar; Jul 16th, 2021 at 12:31 AM.
Reply With Quote
  #4  
Old Jun 6th, 2021, 11:21 AM
Niyaga's Avatar
Niyaga Niyaga is offline
Swimmin’ Lockpickin’
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 16th, 2021
RPXP: 5675
Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga
Posts: 3,410
Li Jie. Morning, 20th of August, 1885. The ride back from Mine Twelve.
right-aligned image
Li Jie
Jie had reverently stowed his pick, shovel, and gold pan in Xochitl’s saddle bag before leaving Yellow Ledge. It gently clanked against the horse’s flank as he rode and reminded him of where he’d come from. He’d left Australia and had made a new life now, full of promise and adventure. Although he’d always remember prospecting, he was now a demon-hunter and had proven his ability to his sweetheart Posey, the Ore Baron Slatterbaugh and to the folk of Yellow Ledge . Now headed for the city, he would embark on another chapter where he’d avail himself of the houses of learning. The half-demon would know all about their quarry.

The wonders of Denver always surprised Jie and he loved to walk and look around at the ever changing and diverse city. He took the city’s unofficial motto to heart, "I adopt every custom, I speak every tongue." as where better would else would the man from everywhere and nowhere fit in? Returning now with a new sense of excitement and optimism for the future reinforced his love of the place. It was a place where anyone had the chance to prosper. With determination and careful application to the task at hand, he reminded himself.

On the ride in, he’d reminded himself to get to the bank and send some of his bounty to his mother back in China along with the letter he’d written by firelight two nights before.

Letter to 妈(mā)Beloved Mother,

I have been in a village called Yellow Ledge where I have been dutiful and hard-working. My diligence has been rewarding and I enclose this bank note. My sincerest hope is that we may someday see one another again.

I now own a horse and ride with associates to Denver, which is the big city I told you about in a past letter. There is more work for us there and I hope to save enough to purchase a home that will bring pride to our family. Perhaps you might come to America to live? There is great opportunity here for prosperity.

There are great marvels in the city here that you wouldn’t believe! I am most interested in these carriages that travel without horse to pull them. If my fortunes continue, I’d also like to buy one of these.

Please write back. It has been too long since you last wrote to me and I yearn to know you’re happy and healthy.

Sincerely, your ever-loving son,
Li Jie


He’d get to the bank and to the post office as soon as possible. He considered paying a little more to have the letter delivered “air mail” in one of the zeppelins that he’d seen prowling the Protectorate skies. He’d need to check whether they did “reply paid” envelopes. That way he might hear from Ma Li so much quicker! Jie was feeling munificent and here in Denver there were all types of things to buy! ’Best first get this money off to Ma!’ he chided himself.

While he was craning his neck in inspection of an electrical generator (Jie was ever curious about everything), a non-descript man thrust a slip of paper into Ouzo’s hand. The half-demon turned to give Bowler Hat his undivided attention, and, as it was assumed they’d follow, he did, while keeping a keen eye on the man.

Not one to interrupt a clandestine summoning, Jie dutifully followed along behind Ouzo. The fortress that they were brought to made Jie frown. He TN17 PER (Seeing)
Rolled 14. Fail
stepped forward and watched as Bowler Hat made a complex series of motions involving his hand and the brim of his hat to have someone from within open the door. Or was it a spell? You never knew in Denver. The demon-hunter didn't catch the part of the ritual involving Bowler Hat's hat and gave a low grunt of regret.

Then following him through the bewildering building, Jie made every effort to track their direction, and how to get back out again if they got trapped. The place was disconcerting, undoubtedly designed to be that way. He’d TN15 WIL (Self-Discipline)
Rolled 18. Success!
do his best to try and make sure the three saw daylight again after this impromptu meeting. For all the twists and staircases, Jie was reasonably confident he could find his way back. He grunted in satisfaction.

Stranger still were the folk who they were brough to meet and who acknowledged Nao, Ouzo and Jie were ’…highly recommended… in matters of... peculiarity.’

‘What peculiarity could we have been brought to investigate?’
Jie stepped forward, close enough he could have reached out and lain a palm on the spider-webbed pane. There he peered forward into the gloom, trying to make out what the huge shape was as light gradually filled the room beyond the glass.
A Gambling Man
 
Statblock
 
__________________

Last edited by Niyaga; Jun 7th, 2021 at 02:43 PM.
Reply With Quote
  #5  
Old Jun 8th, 2021, 12:13 PM
cottontailwind's Avatar
cottontailwind cottontailwind is offline
a bit like you and me
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 17th, 2021
RPXP: 7144
cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind
Posts: 1,342
Ouzo
right-aligned image
Harlow's Oasis. He'd have to remember that. (And maybe claim some credit for it's future success. You know, for making it safe and famous by saving Yellow Ledge.) Ouzo even considered scratching out the demon's head from the sign maker towards Yellow Ledge, but they had so much more road to cover, so he left the task for a local.

Oh, but it was so good to be back in a proper city. New people to meet. New valuables to meet. So much easier to disappear when needed, in the anonymity of dense population as much as around so many alleyway corners. And running water, to boot!

So it was with a flattened, dour face that Ouzo's relief came to a quick end; they were spotted and approached almost immediately. Bowler Hat had none of the strutting bravado of a sheriffs or marshals, but shared their lack of any sense of humor. Obviously a Pinkerton.

"Oh good, you're here to take our bags?" Ouzo asked, taking the note. After reading it, he exchanged looks with Nao and Jie, offering only a queasy smile. "So sorry, friends. It seems you both are too famous for your own good, eheh... Just a quick check in, I'm sure, and then we're back to the open city and all its prospects and luxuries! On the upside, our hosts do have a good coffee service. Ever had Dao Roast Coffee? Very popular in the northeast." During the group's travels from Yellow Ledge to Denver, Ouzo shared enough stories for them to know that he occasionally took work from the Pinkertons. Not anything on the books, mind you. Only the miscellaneous, unscrupulous work that required a dexterous and non-violent hand. Though typically they'd meet in a alehouse or boutique in passing. Never a direct invitation. Or summons.

As they followed after Bowler Hat, Ouzo didn't make much effort to track their paths through the disorienting corridors. At least, that's what he told himself when he lost track. "Not that there's any desire to, but only an amateur would try to case a complex like this. A proper professional would simply convince the right person to tell me how to pass," he thought. "Oh, nothing to be impressed about," Ouzo said to Nao and Jie casually, waving away the same window they'd passed on at least three different floors. "Just think of it as a very elaborate lock on a very inconspicuous door."

The additional security of the cell and the man in the white suite were of no consequence to Dr. Ouzo. It was the nun that caught his attention. Less so for her militarization so much as the fact that she wasn't a Pinkerton. Not solely, anyways. For an outside agent to be this deep into a Pinkerton complex... Whatever was going on must have been serious. Why would his old friend, J.J., bring a throw-away conman contractor and two new associates so deep into their stronghold, to be involved with such an important member of the Church?

Ouze gave pleasant introductions to Inspector Robetaille. Recommended, the inspector had said. Not unlike Slatterbaugh's contracting of their services through blackmail and imprisonment. The conman gave similarly plain introductions to Sister Marisol, noticeably short of his usual (sleazy) charm. Instead, all he asked was, "Mind if I smoke?" It gave him something to do instead of speaking. There was something about high-ranking and heavily armed nuns that made Ouzo certain she could read all his sins across his face, so he was pleased when the inspector got to the point. The suit gestured to what was revealed to be a large glass wall behind them, cracked, and containing...

The cigarette fell out of Dr. Ouzo's mouth. His face blanched. He face blanked. Some mix of transfixed and disbelief.

After the creature... sang? ... and tapped on the glass, and the painful, haunting moment of silence followed, the man known as Ouzo cleared his throat and patted himself down. He casually picked up his cigarette from the floor and resumed smoking. "I mean, they have three of such creatures at a place back on the east coast so I simply cannot say that I am impressed. But it's very good to see you are finally catching up on your end."

Obvious lies on all counts. Ouzo had never seen or heard of such a thing before. He tried to look away as if uninterested, but he couldn't tear his gaze away. Twisted. Boney. Fleshy. Pointy.

And Ouzo wasn't just impressed. He was terrified. He couldn't even begin to imagine what the Pinkertons' detainment of such a thing could have to do with them.

The gentleman scoundrel's only solace was the fidgeting of continuing to smoke his cigarette. Even after it'd burned down to the filter.

OOC
 

Statblock
 
__________________
Pronouns: He/Him | Posting Status: :) | cottontailwind's PC: "So there's this thing called a collective bargaining unit..." GM: "No unionizing the kobolds!"
PCs: Varley, Dr. Ouzo, Goio, Old Man Ingo, Genevieve, the Altrix Dunyazad | GMing: FFd6: Dreaming of Today
Reply With Quote
  #6  
Old Jun 11th, 2021, 01:02 PM
MoldyNolds's Avatar
MoldyNolds MoldyNolds is offline
Dripping with Alchemy
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 15th, 2021
RPXP: 7431
MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds
Posts: 1,675
August 23rd, 1885. Midday. Denver - The Bureau.
left-aligned image
"Hmhmhmhmhm! Ahhh, waaarden, waaarden, waaarden, waaarden~"

As the creature continued its litany of taunts and jibes the Inspector stared her down impassively, clearly this was a game that had been played out before between these two.

During the one-sided exchange Marisol stood stoic and silent, arms crossed as she surveyed the newcomers. Her gaze swept over Dr. Ouzo and Nao, but strayed as it landed on Li Jie. She studied him from across the room, eyes roaming up and down his form before coming to rest Or perhaps, what she may have known lay underneath his hat?on his hat. After an obvious and uncomfortable stare-down she approached him. Withdrawing her hand from folded arms in what could have been mistaken as an extension for a handshake, she instead deftly drew something from one of the many pouches and loops across her vest; what appeared to be a small glass vial. Flicking her wrist forward, whatever liquid was inside the vial sprayed across the Chinese-Australian prospector in small droplets. The total volume amounted to less than a shotglass, though Marisol appeared to have succeeded in her endeavor and she closed the rest of the distance, getting uncomfortably close to Jie and watching him intently for any response.

After a moment, when it appeared the holy water would have no effect on the tiefling she retreated a step out of his personal space and relaxed, though just a bit. "Muy bien. I have never met a tiefling before. I had to be sure, verás?" The tone in her voice suggested no apology or explanation, in fact she presented herself as rather cold. It was merely a statement of fact for her own benefit.

right-aligned image
Once the calls to her "warden" had died away and after a moment of silence had passed, the gentleman turned away from the imprisoned beast to address the group. "Please forgive Marisol, though she 'as been assured by ze Pinkertons and 'er own Church zat tieflings 'ave never showed signs of carrying demonic blood in zeir veins she tends to be quite... thorough. One of ze reasons we allowed-" An emotive throat-clearing escaped from the nun's nostrils. "Ah, heh. Oui, of course. One of ze reasons we... agreed to zis little joint venture." Stepping away from the window, Robetaille began to pace slowly across the short edge of the room, his cane emitting a soft and rhythmic *thunk* with each step. "July seventeenth. One of our agents 'ad been shadowing an interested party of ours for several weeks. Zey 'ad trekked deep into First territory and kidnapped someone; a Hidatsa shaman we believe. Using ze shaman and an unknown artifact, zey performed what we believe zey thought was a summoning ritual to awaken an elder demon. What zey awoke instead was what you see before you now. What zey thought would be under zeir control was... not. What 'appened next iz something of a mystery, ze agent escaped with 'is life but 'is mind was broken. He ranted and raved about a beast of endless, boundless hunger. Ze shaman and artifact were unaccounted for. Ze ones responsible for ze ritual were... well, let's just say ze reports of endless hunger were corroborated by ze remains left at ze scene."

Throughout this re-telling Sister Marisol switched her attention between Robetaille and the creature in the other room. It was unclear exactly how much she knew of this story or was hearing for the first time.

"Fearing an elder demon on ze loose so close to ze Empire, we poured resources into tracking and killing it. Its trail was not hard to follow, though it always seemed to elude us. Finally, after baiting it we were able to contain it using powerful wards, though as you can see, zis 'as proven to be only a temporary measure." The Inspector pointed out the cracks along the pane of glass. "You see, zis creature 'as defied all of our attempts to classify it. Or 'er, rather. She is no demon, not by any qualifications possessed by either ze Church or my own organization, although one single glance and it would be near-impossible to convince you otherwise, no? Indeed, what bits we 'ave learned during our time with 'er only reinforce 'er demonic nature. She seems near-uncontrollable, concerned only with an all-consuming and endless hunger. She iz intelligent and cunning, willing to bargain and deceive for 'er own gains. She 'as regenerative capabilities un'eard of, even in zis new era of ze strange and fantastical. 'Er power iz... impressive and seems to be increasing at a geometric rate as she continues to awaken from 'er slumber."

Stopping at the simple metal desk, Robetaille picked up the thickest leather folder and gestured to it before dropping it once more. "Ze best definition we can ascertain is compiled 'ere as myths, folktales, and other scribblings going back to ancient Mesopotamia. She iz no demon, but a Wendigo. Or ze Wendigo, rather. By all accounts a force of nature, an entity of eternal hunger. Ze stories get quite outlandish. Evil spirits zat possess men who 'ave descended into cannibalism. Rumors of an otherworldly creature who swims among the stars, consuming suns. All we know iz she iz too powerful to contain indefinitely yet too... stubborn to die permanently. Sister?"

During his monologue Marisol stepped up to the desk and stuck a hand into one of the folders. Pulling out a sheaf of papers she plucked one and unfolded it into a large sheet that encompassed nearly the entire surface of the desk. Thick yellowed parchment, cracked and weathered at the fold lines spread before the group. Scrawled across it were a series of strange markings, some of them legible but most Anyone with an arcane focus (looks like only Li Jie) may make a TN11 INT test using said focus to try and decipher the page!cryptic and arcane in nature. Every symbol, every equation, every ley line seemed to revolve around an incredibly intricate circle that took up most of the center of the page. Lines wove in and out of its border, almost entirely obfuscating where the periphery ended and the circle began. The Sister pulled out a wax pencil and began the laborious process of recreating the images and language directly onto the window that separated the group from this Wendigo.

"You see ze powers zat be in ze Empire 'ave decided zis Wendigo presents an opportunity zat cannot be squandered. If she truly iz what we think she iz, zen zere is much we could learn from such an ancient entity. Eons of knowledge and power reside within zis beast's mind, and if we cannot contain 'er directly zen perhaps we appease 'er into collaboration. Ze Church was kind enough to dig zis binding circle out of zeir archives. All five of you will be bound together by word and by blood. You each may dictate ze terms of your own cooperation and what you expect from ze others." Robetaille paused here to make sure everyone was paying attention. "I highly suggest not being eaten is stipulated in each of your oaths. Ze magic used to bind you all to each other iz both divine and incredibly powerful, I think you'll find resisting to be quite impossible. Ze catch iz you must all agree unanimously. And before you think about refusing I would recommend considering the benefits to having ze gratitude of ze Church and ze Pinkertons... and zen consider ze alternative should you refuse. Sister Marisol will communicate with ze Church. Dr. Ouzo, you will report your findings to me at my discretion using zis." The Inspector produced from his person a simple leather-bound journal. Inside every page was completely blank. "Check zis journal every sunset for a message from me and report back immediately."

As each individual present considered the rather one-sided offer that literally sat on the table Marisol continued to inscribe the glass. She either was already familiar with the terms of this arrangement or too engrossed in her delicate work to respond. At this rate it would take her perhaps twenty minutes or more to complete the binding circle. Robetaille watched everyone for their reactions, including the Wendigo."Any questions?"

OOC
The intention here is not to trick you into ridiculously literal interpretations of your oaths. You're all PC's (and Marisol), this is simply a narrative device to explain why everyone in this group needs to work together!


Important NPC's
 

__________________
He/Him | I have taken the Oath of Sangus
Currently GM'ing: 1,000,000 Ways to Die in the Weird West (it's publicly viewable!)
Current Characters: Prince Brucían Pough | Rolf da Minek | Kyai Applecore | Vittoro Gabríka de Campos

Last edited by MoldyNolds; Jun 11th, 2021 at 01:58 PM.
Reply With Quote
  #7  
Old Jun 14th, 2021, 03:41 PM
cottontailwind's Avatar
cottontailwind cottontailwind is offline
a bit like you and me
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 17th, 2021
RPXP: 7144
cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind
Posts: 1,342
Ouzo
right-aligned image
Sister Marisol made her introductions by dousing their resident tiefling in holy water. It seemed rather prejudicial. "I'll have one with bourbon over here, if you please. ... no? Very well." She had a similar stoicism as Knuddelmaus but Ouzo expected his charms wouldn't be quite as effective. Then again, who could know such things?

The conman listened along to Inspector Robetaille, though at first, it was how the suit spoke as much as what he was saying.

An upper-class, native speaker of the French language. The tale of broken mind after an attempt to traffic with demons. Ouzo shuddered.

He refocused enough to catch the majority of the inspector's story, and by the end of it, he understood the apologetic nature of Gittes' note. So the Pinkertons and all their resources and secret contacts couldn't control the thing. Not directly, anyways. Nor could they kill it. And they certainly couldn't let it fall into the hands of any force more sinister than themselves. So they'd bind mortals to the creature, then apply their earthly pressures onto the mortals. A rather creative workaround to an otherworldly being's immortality. "So we are to be your guinea pigs, as they say, to determine if your bindings work or if a splattering of our bones and gore will be all that's found of us. To determine if such a non-demonic but eldritch super-being can be... baby sat?" He stated grimly.

Dr. Ouzo sighed. The Spanish gentleman strode up to the glass, looking to the Wendigo's empty eyes but remaining behind Sister Marisol. "Well, Miss The Wendigo? How do your friends... or rather, how would your friends address you? In all your infinite drive to consume, have you ever tasted the endless hunger for... traveling companions? That is, to travel with traveling companions. Not to eat traveling companions... mierda..."

And so Dr. Ouzo met the Wendigo and made his oath, which included not only the restriction of non-consensual chewing, gnawing, and digestion of one another, but also of others in any way that might endanger their lives and freedom with law enforcement. At least, not any more than they’d endanger themselves otherwise, anyways.

OOC
 

Statblock
 
__________________
Pronouns: He/Him | Posting Status: :) | cottontailwind's PC: "So there's this thing called a collective bargaining unit..." GM: "No unionizing the kobolds!"
PCs: Varley, Dr. Ouzo, Goio, Old Man Ingo, Genevieve, the Altrix Dunyazad | GMing: FFd6: Dreaming of Today

Last edited by cottontailwind; Jun 14th, 2021 at 05:06 PM. Reason: fixed/updated state block
Reply With Quote
  #8  
Old Jun 15th, 2021, 09:41 PM
Niyaga's Avatar
Niyaga Niyaga is offline
Swimmin’ Lockpickin’
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 16th, 2021
RPXP: 5675
Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga
Posts: 3,410
Li Jie. Morning, 20th of August, 1885. The ride back from Mine Twelve.
right-aligned image
Li Jie
The ever-curious Jie was enjoying meeting new and interesting people who were members of intriguing, shadowy and powerful organisations. He enjoyed the feeling of being in an exciting time and place and was grateful for the opportunities.

The Nun, Marisol, was quick to splash water on Jie, and, as this was his first time being doused in holy water, he was also interested to see what would happen.

’Muy bien. I have never met a tiefling before. I had to be sure, verás?’

‘Please forgive Marisol, though she 'as been assured by ze Pinkertons and 'er own Church zat tieflings 'ave never showed signs of carrying demonic blood in zeir veins she tends to be quite... thorough.’


He checked his arms and pulled at the skin of his cheeks to see if there might be any reaction. Then he looked long at the Sister and Inspector in turn. He considered how he’d been questioned by Croup back in Mine Twelve and now similarly being suspected of what he might actually be. He was curious too and would seek to question anyone who understood demons. Surely a Nun might have more information for him. "You know a lot about demons..? You're well armed..." He indicated the submachine gun, "Have you battled demons before..?" He gently attempted to draw her out.

Having captured Jie’s attention, he watched closely as Marisol laid out the arcane design. Sigils such as these dwelt at the outer periphery of the tiefling’s left-brain, evoking Yama’s forgotten/remembered lessons. "Fascinating!" He peered over her shoulder as she traced, TN11 Arcana check
4,3,4+5=16
Spend 4sp on "With a Flourish"
(General Exploration Stunts)
attempting to curry favour with Marisol
eager to learn as much as he may. Jie felt he could make sense of the sigil and the manner of its working. He mumbled musings of his understanding of it before asking, "Did you learn this during your training... to become a Nun?" Jie had never spoken with a Nun before and, despite a general understanding of celibacy, poverty and living in a nunnery, knew very little.

The sigil represented a binding, not unlike Jie’s soul tether, but one that acted regarding deed rather than movement. Jie inwardly balked at the concept; people should be free to be the best member of society that they might strive to be. But Robetaille’s words echoed as a reminder: ’…all-consuming and endless hunger.’ Considering the Wendigo once more, he decided that some might need external restraint more than others.

Jie nodded affirmation of Ouzo’s oath (there was not anything more Jie would have added) before he bent his mind to consider how they might wander the streets of Denver with this bestial creature in tow. As the group was keen to avoid entanglements with the law this singular being of ferocity and hunger would surely attract the wrong kind of attention. Some kind of disguise..?

A Gambling Man
 
Statblock
 
__________________

Last edited by Niyaga; Jun 15th, 2021 at 10:16 PM.
Reply With Quote
  #9  
Old Jun 15th, 2021, 11:53 PM
Reistar Reistar is offline
Mature Adult Dragon
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 12th, 2021
RPXP: 1423
Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar
Posts: 346
Denver
left-aligned image
Nao was so focused on the monstrosity behind the glass that she almost missed the interaction between the nun and Jie. Almost. When she realized just what the woman of the Church had done to her friend, she bristled, especially when the woman didn’t really apologize. This is exactly why I don’t like the church. I could be hiding Demon traits for all she or I know, but she goes for Jie. Discrimination still running rampant.

Jie himself seemed more curious than anything but Nao was not so generous. The Pinkerton’s halfhearted apology did not appease her in the slightest. She gave the nun a frosty, polite stare. ”If we are being thorough, perhaps Mr. Ouzo and myself should be doused in Holy Water as well. All of us did just come from a demon infested town. If we are to be working together, I suppose we must work on building some sort of trust between us.” Both the Japanese woman’s tone, and facial expression, made it quite obvious that she did not trust the nun at all, despite what her words said.

When she heard the story of the Wendigo and what was planned for their group, she was both alarmed and furious. This thing wasn’t a demon but it was very, very close in Nao’s view. And now they were going to be bound to it, again without much choice in the matter. Her jaw clenched, and her hands balled into fists so hard she could feel her nails digging into her palms. Her skin rippled with the need to change in response to her emotions.

”There is a simple honesty and joy in you, Nao. Something so rarely seen in the West. And even rarer is it preserved. This continent has a way of hardening people, almost like a corruption. What I'm trying to say is just don't lose your spirit Nao. Don't let this place take it from you.”

Just when she needed them most, Agave’s words drifted into her mind, centering her and providing a bit of calm. For a few seconds, she took silent, deep breaths, emptying her mind. Forcing herself to think through the situation, she supposed this was sort of like demon hunting. The “demon” couldn’t be killed, so as Ouzo said, they would indeed be babysitting. It was better than letting it run loose unchecked, or trying futilely to keep it locked up. Perhaps this way they could learn from it, or use it to their advantage. She glanced at the Wendigo again. Very carefully, anyway.

Nao suppressed a sigh and added her own stipulations to the oaths. Definitely no eating or maiming or even touching without consent. The hunter couldn’t quite suppress a shudder as she imagined scenarios when they would give the creature permission to eat, the Pinkerton’s talk of “appeasing” the creature stuck in her mind. Although, if they happened to run into Mr. Croup again… The expression on Nao’s face was both predatory and vindictive.

It seemed the nun was also binding herself into this arrangement. Nao grudgingly gave her points for magical ability and guts but it didn’t make her trust the woman. If anything it made her more wary. What, besides the obvious, was the Church gaining from this? She’d have to keep an eye on BOTH of their new… comrades.


OOC
 



Nao's Statblock
 

Last edited by Reistar; Jun 25th, 2021 at 09:22 PM.
Reply With Quote
  #10  
Old Jun 19th, 2021, 03:45 AM
Verdant Glitter's Avatar
Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter is offline
Community Supporter
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 16th, 2021
RPXP: 2033
Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter Verdant Glitter
Posts: 664
Denver, the Pinkerton Basement, Where Secrets Go to Die.
right-aligned image
"Tch - You bore me now. You were more f-un when you sent your sa-mples in here to die."

The lack of retort was invariably expected. One can easily imagine how many hours she has spent serenading her captor with taunt and jibe and the sort of rambling she's already vocalized in breathy sing-song to her current audience, judging from how little it's bothered the Inspector, and that can only consume one's attention for so long before growing stale. Still, the great skull remains angled toward the man, swayed to follow his little trek in its circle about the observation room, the elongated fingers and dark claws still tapping at the fractured glass. Boredom, habit, just being a pest? Occasionally the shudder of a wintry chuckle rumbles free of the monstrosity, all crackling ice and frozen breath, while Robetaille regales the gathered - To hear of one's ventures in such painfully lacking detail! He doesn't at all elaborate on the charnal house she was found in, the gleeful violence she visited on the unsuspecting agents, the difficulty in crowding her into this cell that barely contains her! It had been art, and he depreciates it into a handful of adjectives. What insolence.

"Ahhhhh, little snack, what you do n-ot know, the things you think you want to know. I could share such delights with you - If you come in here. My knowledge is like honey, deep and th-ick. Taste it and see!" Another husky rumble, dark, promising, the crackle of vertebrae sounding when she rolls her lumbering skull to presumably watch the nun's etchings. Difficult to pinpoint with the lack of pupils. "Another bind-ing! Humans and your, hnnngh, little chains. I did not consent to this! Did you not just have a war over this sort of th-ing? Well - Hypocrisy is the cornerstone of faith. Do you think placing one binding atop another cancels the first, or weakens the second? Guess we'll hmhmhmhm find out. If I folded you in half, do you think I could fit you inside the warden?" The sound of blades against glass, the Wendigo's tapping claws opting instead to drag down the inside of the pane, thin splinters and flakes of glass tinkling away to the floor - Not simply for the sake of annoying the Church's soldier, but in a lazy attempt to distract. The best thing about ancient and complex rituals is how easy they are to flub. If she's lucky. Though, if luck were a trait of hers, would she be here?

"Hhhhhhh. You reek of tar, stagnation, and slow death." Bony antlers scrape stony ceiling, the beast contorting herself hard enough to elicit a sudden and jarring *crack* from one bound shoulder in the effort of hauling her mass closer to the glass, a sharp movement that swings the leering skull to a closer loom toward the inscribing nun - Though it's clear she's addressing the man behind the sister, the only one of the three to directly address her thus far. "We are not a pack crea-ture. But I do not h-ave the luxury of a choice, hrrm? Not like your infested meat or m-alle-able flesh-sack. Ech. The indignities I suffer this iteration!" With this lament groaned, the beast slumps back into her chains, all of which immediately clank and groan, their bolts straining. And there she hangs in a pendulous sway, a movement voiced only by the groan of metal, otherwise silent as the nun etches and the group voices their oaths. It's only after the last one is stated that she grunts.

"If I am to be bound to you, then you are also bound to me. Twenty s-ix demon-worshipping vermin I must hunt, twenty s-ix demon-worshipping vermin you will help me find. My great Hunger is endless, eternal. You will feed it, as it Demands. Ohhh ssso fortunate for you, I can eat anything. And anyone."

Sparks scatter from where the Wendigo's hooves suddenly strike, bracing to the floor as the leathery skin of long and slender limbs ripple and flex; chains pull and protest, dust and detritus filters from their brackets, the hide surges with the pulse and tension of wiry muscle bristling beneath, but fortunate for everyone present and despite the worrying sounds rumbling from within the cell - Both of splintering bone and squealing metal - STR vs Chains: 11, fail!she remains firmly ensconced and shrouded in the mooring chains. Again she slouches amid them, cold mist unfurling from the hollow recess where nostrils would have been. "To be ancient and tired! Hhhaaaaaa, I used to splinter realities. Civiliz-ations shattered between my claws. Entire worlds a flaccid snack. Lawbringers mere shreds in my teeth! Well. I suppose I merely need to wake up, hunt, and feed. Until that prowess returns."


OOC
 


The Wendigo
 
Reply With Quote
  #11  
Old Jun 20th, 2021, 06:58 AM
MoldyNolds's Avatar
MoldyNolds MoldyNolds is offline
Dripping with Alchemy
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 15th, 2021
RPXP: 7431
MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds
Posts: 1,675
August 23rd, 1885. Midday. Denver.
left-aligned image
"I'll have one with bourbon over here, if you please. ... no? Very well."

Marisol never turned from her study of the prospector, instead muttering out of the side of her mouth, "Mockery is indicative of the small-minded's attempt to bring low the erudite..." Dismissing the Spaniard, she seemed more surprised by Jie's acceptance of her splashing and her impression of him turned from skepticism into slight approval as she answered his first question, but that slight approval, too, soon faded back into a superior air. ", I have knowledge of the hell-beasts that invaded our world. You can never be too careful, though."

Nao gave the nun a frosty, polite stare. ”If we are being thorough, perhaps Mr. Ouzo and myself should be doused in Holy Water as well. All of us did just come from a demon infested town. If we are to be working together, I suppose we must work on building some sort of trust between us.”

In a similar manner to Dr. Ouzo's comment, Marisol gave the Japanese woman a small "Hmph..." Half acquiescence and half dismissal, she added as an afterthought, "Perhaps later when we have more time. It seems we'll be traveling together for some time, if this creature doesn't tear us all to shreds first, that is."

Jie's second question came as she was tracing the various circles, symbols, and equations onto the glass. It made little sense to most of the group present; Ouzo and Nao having some natural abilities but little direct experience with arcane scripture or theory. Li Jie, on the other hand, seemed to inherently pick up patterns and meaning within the cascading writing. With intense concentration the nun spared him a quick glance before returning to her work. "This rite is not taught in any rectory or training. This parchment has lain locked away, hidden in a secret place since arriving to the New World on one of the first ships ever to sail to the Americas nearly four hundred years ago."

right-aligned image
During the completion of the ritual the Wendigo continued to taunt and jibe. Towards Robetaille. Towards Marisol. Towards Ouzo. For her part, the nun concentrated on her work, though she couldn't help but spare a glance very now and then when the entity's raspy voice emerged from the skinless skull, or when her chains creaked against some minor movement...

Eventually the circle was complete and one by one those present, minus the Inspector, were tasked with presenting their own blood to press upon the glass and the words they had chosen to bind the others. A general sense of forced partnership all around, with no one eating anyone else. Not the most auspicious of beginnings to a new group of traveling companions, though perhaps not the worst start imaginable? Perhaps... The addition of an actual stipulation by the Wendigo to hunt down twenty-six demon worshippers was something.

Inspector Robetaille offered once last chance to ask questions before ushering everyone out of the holding room. Bowler Hat was waiting in the exact same spot he had been previously, and led the group back through the directionally and arcanely confounding corridors until eventually Marisol, Ouzo, Nao, and Li Jie emerged into the main courtyard where their mounts awaited them, though the nun seemed to have walked here. After a moment the Wendigo emerged from a different entrance, most likely one used to induct prisoners, and they were all unceremoniously ushered out of the Bureau's entrance and directly into the streets of Denver. As the iron gate creaked shut behind them the five of them were left to their own devices.

The city was a bustle of movement at the height of the day. The sun almost directly overhead and beating down on everyone present, it was warm without being uncomfortably hot. The clear blue sky suggested no change in weather in the near future, and it seemed the opportune time for residents to get their business done. Humans and near-humans passed by the group heading in all directions and, other than the fact that the five were standing still in the middle of the road, they were given very little attention. It seemed quite odd that the Wendigo got no second glances... If Ouzo, Jie, or Nao took the time to inspect closer, in fact the Wendigo got no first glances, either. What could easily be mistaken for a true demon by sight alone and send people screaming in terror seemed to be completely invisible to the passersby. What's more, everyone appeared to sub-consciously avoid the hunger-thing. As people or horses got close they instinctively circled around the Wendigo and continued on their merry way, oblivious to the fact that they could have reached out and touched an ancient force of nature that would have gobbled them up without a second thought.

It only took a moment of silence before Marisol found her voice and excused herself. "I have business to attend to at the church. If you need me I'll be at Angel's Envy, just outside the Observatory's Western gate." After glancing towards everyone, her eyes landing on the Wendigo, she added, "I trust you won't decide to leave town without me? That would be... unwise." Without another word she turned on her heels and walked away to the Southwest, disappearing into the crowd.

Just like that Nao, Li Jie, Dr. Ouzo, and the Wendigo were left to their own devices. Perhaps they each had things that needed tending to while in Denver? Friends and family to contact? Leads to track down? Guns, gadgets, and other accoutrement to shop for? Bottles to find the bottom of? Denver was a city full of surprises, and one needn't go far to turn over a secret or two...

OOC
Important NPC's
 

__________________
He/Him | I have taken the Oath of Sangus
Currently GM'ing: 1,000,000 Ways to Die in the Weird West (it's publicly viewable!)
Current Characters: Prince Brucían Pough | Rolf da Minek | Kyai Applecore | Vittoro Gabríka de Campos
Reply With Quote
  #12  
Old Jun 22nd, 2021, 12:48 PM
cottontailwind's Avatar
cottontailwind cottontailwind is offline
a bit like you and me
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 17th, 2021
RPXP: 7144
cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind cottontailwind
Posts: 1,342
Ouzo, Parting Ways"I shall see you all at Miss May's, yes? I would hate for the good Mister Robetaille to send along a message and anyone to miss out on his flowery words of encouragement. Ugh. So oily, that one. And overly familiar too," he said unironically. "Well my dear friends, new and old and... very old... I cannot say that I have ever been magically bound to a better lot of, ah... freelancers. (Or to anyone... ever. Ahem.) But Denver is such a city and there is so much doing to be done, yes?" And with that, in the middle of the bustling streets of Denver, Dr. Ouzo smiled, mimed the tipping of a hat, and disappeared into the crowd.
Ouzo, Gambling and Carousing
right-aligned image
At some point into their downtime, Ouzo sought out their newfound traveling companion: The Wendigo. Where would such a creature spend leisure time? A mortician's office? Pig farms? Did she even have leisure time? Did she even experience time? Despite his lack of knowledge on habits of extradimensional beings, it never seemed difficult to track her down... much less spot her in a crowd from several blocks away.

"Ah, yes, hello, Miss The Wendigo! It's me, Ouzo, remember? From the mystical binding ritual? I couldn't help but wonder if this is your first time in civilized society, you know, not consuming the fabric of reality. You know, as a citizen. (Or at least, as a denizen. I guess.) Ah, at any rate, with this whole not-eating-everyone thing, it would certainly be rude to not invite you to partake in one of the most fundamental rituals of mortal society! That is: throwing bones and knocking back a few! You know, gambling and drinking? It is truly what binds mortal-kind together." It was indeed meant as a friendly gesture to welcome their newfound traveling companion. And if The Wendigo's exotic, sensory-overloading presence just happened to unsettle and distract the other gamblers, well, that would be mere coincidence. "If you've, ah, eaten all your money - as a snack or something - I have some extra silver I could front you. There's supposed to be a solid den in the basement of Larimer and 34th, but only after it gets dark out. And you'll have to give the word 'jambalaya' as a passcode to gain entry; tedious, but places like this just love a sense of mystery, no ní na? Oh, and if you can make it, please do be sure to refer to me as 'Mr. Midori'... best to not ask why. Hope to see you there!" The gentleman scoundrel gave a smile and wave as he went, just as chipper as he'd come.

Later that evening, in the basement of Larimer and 34th, after dark, and after offering the given passcode, Dr. Ouzo found himself sitting with a handful of miscreants at an often-defaced table. They kept the lighting low, as was expected, and somewhere from the room's peripheries wafted in the lilting, lazy plucks of some string instrument, and the sweet-smelling exhale of something foreign and smoked.

Ouzo looked to the blond dwarf with a metal arm and metal eye. The single light hanging overhead caught the red orb in his eye socket at just the right angle to cast long shadows over his face and beard. The dwarf was likely bluffing; the steel cables wrapped around the iron ball joint of his elbow squeaked every-so-slightly when he had a band hand. So to speak.

Next to the dwarf was an obese mercenary, wearing little more than a series of straps over his chest. He had a full mask made of rubber and leather strapped to his head, so it was difficult to get any tells from his facial expressions. But his heavy, wheezing breaths, and great heave and settling of his fleshy chest and belly gave him away enough: his breathing quickened right away if he drew a card and liked what he saw, but his breathing only quickened several moments afterwards if it were something bad. Likely the time it took to exhaust his low calculations of winning.

On the other side of the mercenary was what appeared to be a man made entirely of machinery... and dressed as a humble pilgrim, prayer beads and all. Denver certainly attracted all types. The robot-priest didn't have any tells at all. Worse, Ouzo seemed a bit distracted when he realized the holy man's inconsistent fidgeting in his seat wasn't a fidget at all; he was simply floating cross-legged at a comfortable seating height. Under the guise of focusing on his cards, the spaniard honed in on the pilgrim's psyche - or programming - to get a better read on his position this round...

"Oh, very well. If you all really must insist. I raise again," Ouzo said. With a trusty cigarette between his fingers, he moved another shortstack of chips to the pot. The center of the table once housed a small palace of such multi-colored chips, that reigned over the surrounding court of face-up cards, but whose parapets had since slid and crumbled in this hand's growing tension. "I must say, this far west from the Church, and with such open expanses of land, Denver seems to lead the world in technological developments," he began, with zero merit or conviction in his nice-sounding pleasantries. "They talk of 'horseless carriages' with such a fascination back along the east coast, it is almost embarrassing that they're not more familiar with them, can you believe?" Ouzo was going fishing for information...
Ouzo, Covertly Gathering IntelThere were spans of several days at a time when Dr. Ouzo did not return to June May's, but instead enjoyed the anonymity of one of the other hotel rooms he'd booked concurrently throughout the city. Under assumed names, of course. Time to get some real work done. He'd originally set out with a single objective. It was the same objective every time: learn someone's dirt and sell it to anyone who'd pay for it.

But after such unusual recent events, it wasn't the Pinkertons' coercion, or Mr. Robetaille’s magic journal, or even The Wendigo that distracted him from the very important business of selling secrets. As little as he knew, Ouzo could at least ballpark their motivations.

Sister Marisol, on the other hand... what did the Church want with The Wendigo? Why did they just happen to have a pre-Attunement binding ritual? What other interests did the Church's have to warrant heavily militarized field agents drawing on their contacts in clandestine para-police organizations?

Better than directly asking such a stoic figure as Sister Marisol herself, Ouzo began with the few leads that he had: religious armaments. "Good day, sirs and madams," the conman said in tandem with the jingling of the shop's doorbells, as he entered a random variety of small-time silversmiths, jewelers, and glassmakers. "My name is Mr. d' Menthe and I was recommended to your establishment," he wasn't and he hadn't, "under a most enterprising opportunity. An initiative, you see, to outfit a company of sellswords to combat the most nefarious of evils. The unspeakable terrors in the night! Veritable boogeymen, if you will. And for such an enterprise, we will most certainly be needing silver bullets, cold iron blades, glass vials that can endure travel but smash when needed to be smashed... All engraved with a variety of religious symbolism. It would need to be with utmost precision. And in large quantities, of course. Have you such a hunger to aid in peace and justice for the land? Oh... you mostly do business of a smaller scale among the local populace, then? Oh I see... Well, I certainly appreciate your craft. I don't suppose, though... that you could point me in the direction of one who could be able to service such a scale of requests? Any endorsement from other renowned customers would be appreciated as well..."

Similar figures appeared at a random assortment of other venues throughout Denver, including E.J. Brando, who oh-so-coincidentally ran into a secretary from Gainsborough Corporation, the natural resources conglomerate... shortly after the company refused to give a public statement on the recent disappearances of a team of loggers...

OOC
 

Statblock
 
__________________
Pronouns: He/Him | Posting Status: :) | cottontailwind's PC: "So there's this thing called a collective bargaining unit..." GM: "No unionizing the kobolds!"
PCs: Varley, Dr. Ouzo, Goio, Old Man Ingo, Genevieve, the Altrix Dunyazad | GMing: FFd6: Dreaming of Today

Last edited by cottontailwind; Jun 22nd, 2021 at 04:22 PM.
Reply With Quote
  #13  
Old Jun 24th, 2021, 07:29 PM
Niyaga's Avatar
Niyaga Niyaga is offline
Swimmin’ Lockpickin’
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 16th, 2021
RPXP: 5675
Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga Niyaga
Posts: 3,410
Li Jie. Morning, August 23, 1885. Denver.
right-aligned image
Li Jie
Jie became aware of Nao bristling at Marisol. It gladdened him that she would try to defend him, but the five of them were now bound. Nao was totally correct when she said that they’d need to build trust. The binding ritual that Marisol had conducted could not be broken by distance, only by death. They would work together to achieve common goals, and the creature behind the glass had its own goal,

’Twenty s-ix demon-worshipping vermin I must hunt, twenty s-ix demon-worshipping vermin you will help me find.’

This was something that Jie could really support as it was his great desire to discover all he could about demons. Hopefully he could learn all he could about these vermin before the Wendigo ate them.

Marisol’s short words had made him even more curious about the Church, their agents and potential. That they possessed an ancient scroll, an incredible artifact, made him wonder what other things and knowledge they possessed. As she bid, he’d seek her at the Angel’s Envy.

’Miss May’s it is.’

"Indeed, my friend. Good luck." Jie farewelled Ouzo, for the moment, and earnestly wished him luck. He knew his associate well enough to know he’d be gambling sometime soon. Jie suppressed a yearning for a drink and thought to himself, ’Not yet, let’s get the lay of the land first.’ And so he scanned the street.

He first noticed the Wendigo’s invisibility and repulsion. An interesting and indeed beneficial trait, given her intimidating physical form. He asked of her, "How long have you been imprisoned by the Agency?" His stomach growled and he added, "You must be hungry," before quite realising the implication. "I’m going to explore. First to the Academy of Mysteries. Would you like to join me?" He wondered if the creature yearned for company, or knowledge, or for information on her prey. "What of these demon-worshippers you seek? Tell me more."
Academy of MysteriesJie mounted up and walked Xochitl to the east, where, not far away as he understood, was the Academy of Mysteries. Entering the quiet, gloomy but expansive Academy was to jie to inhale the knowledge. He could smell the secrets here and walked from through the lobby and the curios hung and shelved everywhere. Suddenly a large shape slithered into position in front of him, "Can I help you?" The voice was prim, somewhat clipped with annoyance and originated from a towering woman-headed snake.

Jie quickly bowed his head in deference, "I come to study. Demons. I am Li Jie."

The naga assessed Jie from all angles as the serpentine shape writhed about, its pupils flaring and contracting attempting to detect any chicanery. Finding none in Jie’s simple features she introduced herself, "I am Xizelhesh and one of the many students here. I help keep the rabble out and ensure that the knowledge, our greatest asset and the striving for, the greatest virtue, is kept safe. Demons you say..? I can be hired a research assistant if you wish. It would quicken your search." Her eyes arced with curious excitement.

Jie, who hadn’t had a complete schooling, gratefully accepted the offer and was happy to pay the asking rate. He realised that this day would pass quickly, and he felt it best to continue his sight-seeing, so he requested that Xizelhesh and himself begin research in earnest the following morning. "I hope to begin with known types of demons and their physiology. I feel it is best to begin with what is commonly known before we delve further…" Jie wanted to go deeper and discover what he could about portals to the Zone Demonika, Mr Croup; to determine whether Yama existed and where he might guard the passage to the afterlife; and finally, to learn why he was like he was. ’Perhaps. Let’s take it a day at a time.’ He smiled at the thought of spending many days here with a colleague and tutor, up to his ears in arcana.
Jino’s House of BoomsJie wished to pursue his thought process more fully, that of researching hellstone or demon blood-infused explosives, that he’d had back in Yellow Ledge. There seemed no better place to begin than Jino's House of Booms. Jie realised that this would be a sensitive subject in some ways, such as creating a powerful weapon, and Jie realised that if he was to create such a thing it would be wise to patent the idea to ensure that financial benefits should remain with him.

Jie introduced himself to the green skinned Jino and perused his stock. The demon-hunter had enjoyed the effect of the dynamite back in Mine Twelve and thought he might like some explosives in case of future demon extermination requirements. He’d see what was available, and patted his sack full of nuggets, glad to have wealth enough to enjoy the city’s technology. ’Dollars make short-lived friends!’ he cautioned himself. Jie wanted to know what the cutting edge was in explosives, particularly arcane, and lead into a discussion of hellstone-infused explosives. However, he had been cautioned to exercise discretion and so relied on his astute powers of observation.

Furthermore, Jie was earnestly trying to make contacts in Denver and considered that the explosives expert might just be someone with whom he might become friends or begin some mutually beneficial relationship. He asked him questions about different types of explosives, and ingredients, and gave examples of common practice in Australia. After they’d drilled down sufficiently, the crazed but cashed up prospector adopted a zealous twinkle (not hard given his ordinarily insane gaze) and said, "Very good. Tell me of the best you have. Anything small enough to fit in a saddlebag but powerful enough to level a mountain?"
Storm ForgeJie thought back to Yellow Ledge as he made toward his final reconnaissance for the day. Posey had charged him with obtaining a horseless carriage and he’d seek to do so, to show her his conviction and hopefully to impress her! He’d caught a rumour of a place called the Storm Forge, where an inventor called Sturges crafted clockwork with the arcane. He was curious to see what was crafted there but surely this Sturges would know about technological developments more than most.

Li Jie moved about the workshop with a great wonderment. He’d dearly desired to know more about what was capable with technological developments and could spend a day talking if the inventor had time or inclination to share. He tried to discern the purpose of all the tools, gadgets but most escaped his knowledge. He spoke with Sturges, asking him of his greatest inventions and devices, praising him on his cleverness where appropriate. Before he was ushered away due to busy-ness he managed to ask, "What do you know of horseless carriages? I hear they’re more common on the east coast. Have any made it to Denver?"
A Gambling Man
 
Statblock
 
__________________

Last edited by Niyaga; Jul 8th, 2021 at 09:22 PM.
Reply With Quote
  #14  
Old Jun 25th, 2021, 09:59 AM
MoldyNolds's Avatar
MoldyNolds MoldyNolds is offline
Dripping with Alchemy
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 15th, 2021
RPXP: 7431
MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds MoldyNolds
Posts: 1,675
August 23rd through ???, 1885. Denver.
Dr. Ouzo
 

Li Jie
 


OOC
Mechanical Accomplishments
 


Important NPC's
 

Attached Thumbnails
Click image for larger version

Name:	Sneak.png
Views:	203
Size:	50.9 KB
ID:	91475   Click image for larger version

Name:	Konrad Korvis.png
Views:	429
Size:	73.3 KB
ID:	91476   Click image for larger version

Name:	Mechanical Pilgrim.png
Views:	200
Size:	57.8 KB
ID:	91477   Click image for larger version

Name:	Jino.png
Views:	240
Size:	147.2 KB
ID:	91489   Click image for larger version

Name:	Popcorn Grenades.png
Views:	237
Size:	131.1 KB
ID:	91491  

Click image for larger version

Name:	Sturges.png
Views:	199
Size:	123.2 KB
ID:	91492   Click image for larger version

Name:	Sturges Portrait.png
Views:	237
Size:	106.9 KB
ID:	91493   Click image for larger version

Name:	Xizelhesh.png
Views:	194
Size:	110.8 KB
ID:	91504   Click image for larger version

Name:	library.png
Views:	191
Size:	156.3 KB
ID:	91505  
__________________
He/Him | I have taken the Oath of Sangus
Currently GM'ing: 1,000,000 Ways to Die in the Weird West (it's publicly viewable!)
Current Characters: Prince Brucían Pough | Rolf da Minek | Kyai Applecore | Vittoro Gabríka de Campos

Last edited by MoldyNolds; Jun 28th, 2021 at 02:06 PM.
Reply With Quote
  #15  
Old Jun 25th, 2021, 09:28 PM
Reistar Reistar is offline
Mature Adult Dragon
 
Tools
User Statistics
Last Visit: Sep 12th, 2021
RPXP: 1423
Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar Reistar
Posts: 346
August 25, 1885, Denver
left-aligned image
Nao didn’t bother to hide a snicker as Ouzo oozed away. Pot calling the kettle black, that one. she thought. Her ears perked up as Jie mentioned the Academy of Mysteries and the 26 demon worshiping vermin. ”Yes, I would like to know more about that as well, if we are to be hunting them together. Do you know who they are and where they can be found? And what is it that you prefer to be called? I am Nao.” She gave the Wendigo a slight bow, using politeness as a shield to hide her unease. ”I, um, also had an idea for your, um, Hunger.” the Japanese woman said haltingly. ”I am a bounty hunter and some of the people I hunt do not need to be alive afterwards. I only need a small part as proof and you could, um, have the rest. I get money, you get food. If you’d like to join me for that.” Nao looked a little green as she finished.

Addressing Jie she said, ”I too wish to visit the Academy of Mysteries. We do not have to go together but we could discuss our respective finds in the evenings perhaps?” She smiled warmly at the tiefling Chinaman.


Nao on the HuntHer first stop after parting ways was June May’s hostel where she took out a room. It was indeed a luxury to have a room all to herself and she found the rules of the establishment no trouble at all. Then she headed to Bill Boone’s General Store. It could have been shabby, but Bill had made an effort to gussy it up with whatever he could get. Strings of lights, the bulbs all in different shapes, hung from the balcony and ceiling. The roof had a large mechanical fan installed, perhaps to blow air, perhaps as some sort of power source. Wires crisscrossed along the walls, hung overhead, and sometimes disappeared into a wall or ceiling, though no holes could be seen. Random bits of metal hung and stood in various places, some of which were art, some of which were parts, and some of which were both.

Bill himself was behind the counter, looking not much changed from the last time she’d seen him. Same handlebar mustache, white shirt, and dark red vest. Nao wondered if he owned any other clothes. If one didn’t know better, one might consider him a dandy. Nao could see the sharp intelligence in the eyes that were now trained on her, however. He greeted her like an old friend, asking how her “trip” had been. She rolled her eyes. ”Trust you to know about that. It was quite interesting, to say the least, though parts of it were fairly alarming.” She leaned over, her arms resting on the counter, and said in a quieter, more serious tone. ”The information I can give you could put you afoul of both an Oil Baron and the Empire, if you use it wrong. Do you still want to know?” Nao let the information broker decide if he wanted to risk it, although she was pretty sure that he would.

”I also had two requests for information from you, if I could. The first is on horseless carriages. A friend of mine wants to know about them and perhaps acquire one. The second is… do you have any bounties for murderers or rapists...people who won’t be missed?” There was a decidedly steely glint in the hunter’s eyes as she said the last part.


Academy of MysteriesUpon entering the Academy of Mysteries, Nao barely kept herself from licking her lips. The feeling of knowledge, secret permeated the very air of this place. Looking around she saw several people engaged in study, ranging from purely human looking, to beings pulled directly from fantasy. One of them caught her gaze with his and languidly strolled over to talk to her. He looked like a bronze-skinned man with black wings extending from his back. He had straps of black leather in a cuirass across his chest, and black pants so tight they outlined his assets. Rather than ignore that fact, Nao gave it a good long look, then met the man’s eyes and raised an eyebrow. ”I’m surprised they let you wear that. At least some of the students here must get distracted.” The man threw back his head and laughed, which earned them several baleful stares from the others studying and one “Shhhhhh!” Still chuckling, and not the slightest bit apologetic, the man introduced himself.

”Well met, I am Prometheus. If they become distracted then they are not properly invested in their research. You, however, should have no trouble. What knowledge do you seek here? Could I be of assistance?” Nao explained she had some rather specific queries and it was then that she discovered, to her glee and delight, that she could become a member of the Academy and have access to more restricted knowledge, as well as hire Prometheus to be her assistant. She and Prometheus settled on a schedule for a few days, with a tentative agreement to continue if they found worthwhile information. As she followed her assistant toward a room to get started, Nao wore her hunter’s grin.


OOC
 



Nao's Statblock
 

Last edited by Reistar; Jun 27th, 2021 at 10:03 PM.
Reply With Quote
Reply

Thread Tools

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off



All times are GMT -4. The time now is 11:54 PM.
Skin by Birched, making use of original art by paiute.(© 2009-2012)


RPG Crossing, Copyright ©2003 - 2021, RPG Crossing Inc; powered by vBulletin, Copyright ©2000 - 2021, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd. Template-Modifications by TMB