Through the Streets of Atanlia (Started)

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Are you still accepting character sheets?
Because, if you are, I might write one up.

He is, please do.

My character. The whole tea shop thing has been approved by Clogged.

Dang... my character is no longer the oldest in the bunch... Still, very nice char, Yorg.

I made a sheet

I'm quite interested in this RP as one I was participating in recently has died.

To clarify, are our characters unaffiliated with any factions?

I'm quite interested in this RP as one I was participating in recently has died.

To clarify, are our characters unaffiliated with any factions?

You can have past affiliations with factions, but, for now, you are in a gang with the fellow players. You do abide by "rules" set up by a few factions (No killing unless necessary, no stealing from those of lower standing than you, don't mess with Nod too much, things like that), though.

Anyway, I'll be in Boston for business (read: The Penny Arcade Expo) until Monday, which is when I'm calling a firm deadline on all sheets. Good luck, everyone, and I'll see you in five days.

I eagerly await the starting date, even though I'm busting my ass witha job, my free time is gona be wasted on RP's and stuff here.

@Tiger: And what better way to waste free time is there?

@Tiger: And what better way to waste free time is there?

Well video games, but i don't want to waste the little free time I'm gona have out there doing other things. It's good to keep up with an rp ya know.

Tiger Sora:

@Tiger: And what better way to waste free time is there?

Well video games, but i don't want to waste the little free time I'm gona have out there doing other things. It's good to keep up with an rp ya know.

Can't argue with that, so I won't XD

This is my pitiful attempt. FINISHED.

A cold wind washed over the streets. The wind flowed through the city, as it does most days, and kicked up the long, black cape of an Inquisitor. He was dressed for war, and so were the three squads of City Guard behind him, each headed by a War Guard. The Inquisitor took a sharp turn down an alley, and the guards followed suit. Finally, he stood outside of a tea-house, and, with one quick, powerful motion, kicked the door open, leaving the symbol of Keelos ingrained in mud on the door. The Inquisitor walked in, followed by the three War Guard, and walked until he was in the middle of the tea-house. He unrolled a scroll and cleared his throat.

"Patrons of the Broken Blessing Tea-House, I, by decree of Queen Atanlia, am to give a decree: We do know of the criminal activity within this establishment, and we are here to either crush it, or to give you an offer. You have been ordered to find Ragnar Leximor, the strategist behind a recent attack on Royal and City Guard positions throughout the city. You shall reweave the award of one hundred thousand gold pieces to be split amongst the group that brings him in, and all crimes against Lustrata shall be pardoned to whomever you see fit, as log as the number of individuals does not extend beyond twenty and the collective bounty is not above ten thousand gold coins. There shall be wanted posters on the wall by the door, and, if we ever find that these posters have been removed, the Broken Blessing shall be burnt to the ground with no notice and without heed for any individual inside. Any questions?"

The Inquisitor looked around the shop, staring at all of the men in leathers and robes, until one spoke up. He was tall, easily six and a half feet, and was muscular. "Yeah, I have a question, Inquisitor, how many times do I have to stab you before you bleed out?" The man rushed at the Inquisitor with great speed, his knife in his hand. The Inquisitor drew his pistol, aimed at the man, and waited until the man was close enough to see the barrel. As the trigger was pulled, the bullet flew out of the barrel and into the man's eye, coming out the other side, and killing him instantly. The Inquisitor holstered his pistol and looked around.

"Any other questions? Or shall I simply shoot all of you?" The Inquisitor was visibly angry, his face a bright red and his eyes slitted and narrow. Whether or not he was actually asking for questions was unsure, but he wasn't leaving right now, and a body still lay on the floor, blood leaking from the back of it's head.

Draven watched, leaning against the bar, as the Inquisitor led 3 squads of guardsmen into the tea-house. Impassive, as he knew that the guards would eventually catch on to their activities, he simply waited while the Inquisitor finished his proposition.

"I have a question as well." He said, glancing at the body on the ground before looking the Inquisitor straight in the eye. "Where do you suggest we start looking for Ragnar? It seems to me that a member of such an esteemed organization would at least have a small lead to offer, after all."

Serena sips her tea from the shadows, and looks around. A strategist would be a useful ally. Why turn him in for the promise of gold when I could find him and use his skills to steal much, much more than what is offered... And he would most likely have protection, which would be extended to me if I were to work with him.
Her eyes lock on Draven. Determined fellow. Might be persuaded to help a young lady-beggar who wants the bounty. she thinks, looking into her small bag of rolled-up wigs.

Clarissa watched from a table with tonight's mark as the Inquisitor walked in.He was a small time merchant, but by the way his belt jangled and the amulet around his amble neck, he was doing much better than his books showed. He had a keen mind she had to admit, so she'd been keeping him drinking the last few hours, and he was just about ripe for the picking.

There was a nice, quiet little alley just a city block from here that would do just-*BANG*-. She spun around, her thought process broken by the sound of a gunshot, fights were common, but guns?

Suddenly realizing she wasn't in character for that split-second, she screamed as a few drops of the man's blood landed on her face and dress, thankfully none of it landed in her wig, a blonde thing with a silver chain sweeping through it. It had cost her a week's worth of marks to pay for it and a drop of blood could easily ruin it. The dress was much easier to replace, a blue silk with silver trim around the bodice and stars embroidered in a sparkling thread she couldn't quite place.

Who is this man and what is he here for

She quickly formulated a plan to get this merchant out of here and into her alley where she'd rob him blind, he didn't have any weapons on him, not anymore, she'd seen to that.

"Come now, Master Robillard, why don't we find a quieter place to loouuunggge?" She purred in a voice most men couldn't resist while sober, much less halfway down the road to the bellfounder's in the morning.

I hate acting like this, but it helps pay for lodging and everything else I'm good at.Good thing I grew up down at Kala's Arms, otherwise I don't know how I'd be making my living.

The stupid man easily fell for the trap, drained his mug and began walking towards the door, with her in tow. His eagerness would be his downfall now.

The Inquisitor's sudden arrival had shocked William to the point of jumping behind the couch he was sitting on and pulling his cap down hard over his eyes. Though terrified, he continued to listen to the man's offer/demand, and considered briefly the possibility of screwing him over to join the tactician. This though bled away as even his naive and slightly stupid mind realized this idea would end up with him in a ditch. When he heard the man threaten The Inquisitor, and the subsequent gun shot, the idea of just turning in the strategist became even more appealing.

Still not wanting to be seen, but considering the idea, William remained behind the couch, but crawled quickly around it on hands and knees, permanently just out of sight, towards Jinhro, to discuss whether or not it would be a good thing for the group to take on.

...and never again would they meet.

Jin eyed the last words of the chapter, repeating them in his head. A sad smile was on his lips. The brave hero Ragnar had finally said farewell to his love and they had parted ways, him on a ship to the City of Wolves and she on a ship into the Crystal Beyond. As the last rays of sunlight kissed her white sails, just visible on the horizon, he had reached out his hand and spoken Lithuen's Lament, a short but stirring poem about the beauty and tragedy of love. Then he turned away, darkness fell, and she was gone. Forever.

There were two more chapters to go, of course, so the story was not over. Life went on. There was still the ultimate enemy to defeat and the greatest sacrifice to be made. Jin knew the story well. He sighed and rose, setting the book down on his bed table and stretching the kinks out of his back. Soft sunlight from two opposing windows illuminated his small living quarters. The flowers on the windowsills outside blew about in the day's heavy wind, casting tiny shadows that danced like wood nymphs across the piles of books and art that lay about in no particular organization. His ears were serenaded by gentle music drifting in from the shop; that would be Ella on the goat-horn, a deep and earthy sound, and that new kid Edon on the three-string banjo. He was young and shy, but talented. It was probably the first job he'd ever had.

Jin walked to the window and opened it a crack. Instantly a bitter cold gust of air whipped through his robes, and he hastily shut the glass pane again. He usually liked to read up on the top floor under the warm sun, but on days like this it just wasn't realistic. Ah well, it meant there would be more customers seeking the warmth and cheer of a tea shop.

As he turned from the window Jin heard a terrible banging noise and several heavy pairs of feet entering. A loud voice began an announcement, and he recognized it instantly. It was an Inquisitor, and from the sounds of it he wasn't here for tea. Jin slipped into his sandals and pushed aside the curtain that divided his quarters from the shop.


A gunshot split the air. The man with the knife went down like a sack of beans, blood spurting out from the back of his head. The new banjo boy, bless his heart, had continued playing through the Inquisitors speech, but now his song ended with a painful twang as the room fell silent. Several women screamed, and one of the serving girls dropped her platter to the floor.

"I'm not sure what you mean by criminal activity" Jin started in his gravelly but articulated voice, as he tucked his hands into his robes and walked around the counter "but many of my customers here are brave men of good constitution and fine business sense, who I'm sure would be more than happy to track down this outlaw for you." He stood in front of the Inquisitor now, smiling. "You will excuse me, though, if I ask you not to loiter."

Daniel only avoided standing up himself when the man's brains had splattered against the stone floor. It appeared that the man indeed meant what he said, so he caught himself before his own mind would mix up on the floor. He leaned back in his chair instead, testing its strength before propping it back on two legs.

He cracked his knuckles and winced as he remembered the bruises and cuts on them. He had earlier, extracted a nice purse from someone on their way to the smithy and the man had surprisingly put up quite a fight. He had eventually slammed the man's face into a horse's trough and cut the purse before throwing him through a poorly made door.

His hands went to that coin purse an he felt the various gold pieces shift in his grip. It wasn't worth fighting this Inquisitor; he would die if he did.

It then came down to which was easier, staying out of this whole thing, or pledging his support in the hope others would join. It was definitely easier staying out of it. But which paid better? The Kingdom had its coffers full of taxes, it was more than likely, they'd be willing to share a little if he did this for them. Maybe it would be worth getting his hands dirty for a little extra spending.

He looked at the others, one drenched in a little blood and shrieking, typical of women. Another sat in the shadows doing nothing, much like himself and one begged for a lead. Of course the innkeeper had the best response in doing his damnedest to get the bastard out of the inn. This was likely the best course of action of them to have.

He stood up himself and smirked at his companion asking for the lead, "While some beg, I'm sure that if you had leads you wouldn't be asking the scum to get them for you, so allow me to add my valuable information gathering techniques to your investigation. I'm sure you will find them more than apt."

Clarissa wrapped a hand around her merchant's arm and leaned into his body. Tonight was not going to be a good night to work. She sat there with a look of surprise and a small amount of fear at the man standing at the door. She was used to fights in the bars around here, but guns were an oddity in her part of the city. She listened to the man's proposition and heard his price, ten thousand crowns was a large sum, enough to get her out of Atanlia and live off the rest for at least a few years, indefinitely if she counted her coppers. It was time to ditch the merchant and go after this man they were looking for.She made a simple excuse about making herself presentable again, for his benefit. The Royal Pardon would be a good thing to keep around as well.

She walked daintily to the bar and asked for the best room he had, slipped him a gold crown and went up to change.She stashed the wig underneath her breeches she wore under the dress, making a mental note to smooth it later. She scraped off her makeup, and stashed the dress under the bed.

She arrived back downstairs quite quickly, a few minutes later and looked like a completely different person, her raven hair fell to her ears, her face devoid of any powder,animal fat, or grease, and she wore her two daggers still. One in her left sleeve, the other in her right boot.

She sauntered over in what most connected with miners and began questioning the Inquisitor.

"So... exactly who is this guy you're wantin' tracked down, Inquisitor? I've got a network of 'friends' that can keep an eye out in most places your boys'aren't able to go, and even some you can go, a knife arm that's faster than most eyes can follow, and a winning smile." She flashed him one of her better ones, the ones she reserved for some of her more well to do marks. That one normally worked enough to get the ball rolling for her to work.

The Professional, in all of his thuggish splendor, found himself comfortably situated at the Broken Blessing Tea-House, as was the norm for him during his spare time between jobs. He sat at the far end of the shop, sipping a warm mug of tea laced with potent hallucinogen herbs, watching the world around him twist and melt into shapes and colors unknown to the sober mind. The brew was, without a doubt, a foul concoction, possessing a strong, musky taste, although Gerik was far too intoxicated to notice. A thin smile crept of his lip and a faint chuckle managed to escape his lungs, despite his efforts to control his laughter, much to the annoyance of the several brutes adjacent to him.

However, before anyone decided to confront him, an Inquisitor, entered the small, inconspicuous storefront, followed shortly afterward by his personal routine of guards. Gerik's grin and laughter faded in an attempt to hide his obvious use of narcotics while in the presence of such a figure, the entire rooming falling into silence soon after he did. The silence was pierced, however, when one of the thugs whom he had found himself sitting alongside of attempted to assault the Inquisitor. The assailant, unsurprisingly, found himself missing a significant portion of his face, with bits of gore and skull fragments strewn across the floor.

It was at this point, soon after the man's body hit the ground, Gerik found himself unable to contain his drug fueled glee. A loud, obnoxious cackle echoed throughout the Broken Blessing, with Gerik, still in his seat, struggling to keep his calm.

"Oh, that's just fucking rich!" Gerik exclaimed, the small, vile little man wheezing underneath his breath.

Tom sat in his usual place near the back of the tea-house, pouring over his research notes. He barely looked up when the Inquisitor kicked in the door, convinced he was on the verge of a monumental breakthrough. He sipped his tea and continued reading his papers as the man spoke, right up until a loud BANG startled him into dropping his tea. His notes dripping wet, he began to rise out of his seat and turned to face the man.

Upon noticing that the sound had come from the Inquisitor's firearm, the white-haired man immediately sat back down. He wasn't going to start something now, not without a healthy supply of corrosives handy. Instead he pulled out some fresh papers and a quill from a small bag next to his table, intent on saving his notes, though he started paying much more attention to the Inquisitor.

Davarious was stuck in his normal attire, simple but effective. Having just got accustomed to the new environment, the tea house was a nice place to get a start. He enjoyed the quiet it occasionally offered, though it was often noisy. Having his quiet disturbed by some inquisitor with a grudge did nothing to help his attitude. He had his hand on his gun, always a good idea to have that on him. As he watched the man's brain splatter across the floor, he had one though and one thought only, lucky bastard inquisitor. He stood up.

"Alright" he began, "Who is this Leximor character and why is he so important that the queen would offer that much gold? No man, no matter how important is worth half that. Did he piss on her shoes or something of the like?" "Listen, I did not come to this shop for trouble today and I suggest that you end it now because the people here will get ballsy pretty quickly if they see you shooting us one by one." He said all that unaware of the woman asking a similar question across from him, really, he just wanted to take the piss out of the guard.

"That said..." he continued, "I am a bounty hunter and if it is all the same to you, then I would be up for getting involved and making a few murders on my own damned terms." He sat back down done with the inquisitor, he was ready to have to pull out his gun should the need come, it has more than once.

Dirge stood against the wall near the back of the Tea-House. Though he was fairly distant from the Inquisitor, he caught every word, including those of the man who tried to accost the guard. The poor sap ended up finding himself looking like the symbol of Malinor

Dirge took his cup of tea from the nearby table and took a sip. It was a delicate, aromatic blend. The sort that few would suspect he drank, even if they ever thought he drank tea at all.
He replaced the cup along with it's saucer, back to the table.

He heard the others speak and ask questions about the man who the guards sought. Pointless.
As one man was quick to point at, if they had any leads, they would have the majority of the guard chasing them up, not crawling into a crooked tea-house such as this to ask the service of some of the city's lowliest individuals.

"I have but one question" said Dirge as he straightened up from the wall and began to pace forwards, dragging his huge sword across the wood/stone work.
The sound of his booming voice from the darkness caused many patrons to turn and stare at him. They knew the tales, along with having seen Dirge kill his fair share of men over trivialities.

"How many shots, have you got in that pistol?"

His sword hung heavily by his side, he made no intention of tightening his grip.

"Because who, in their right mind, would come into an establishment, that you know to harbour some of this city's most unsavoury indivuals, ask, nay, decree for assistance, and then proceed to shoot one of the patrons stone dead?"

His voice exhibited no emotion, no hint of malice or remorse. None.

"I'll give you some advice for next time you attempt a stunt like this. One word. Subtlety."

He took the flagon of ale that belonged to the now dead man.

"That, or 'Amputation'. Sends more of a message."

He took a hearty swig of the ale.

"Anyway, I'm in."

The Inquisitor's demeanor seemed to improve from all of the pleasant responses, but he had a few choice words for the man resting against the wall.

"For one, the number of rounds in my pistol does not matter when there are three guard squads outside. If there was the sound of a fight, they are to storm this cheap tavern and burn it to the ground after slaughtering everyone inside. It is nice to see someone willing to help his kingdom, though. And, as for you, Jinro," He turned to face the old man right in front of him. "We know about you. You are the head of a local gang, or at least the person who owns their hideout, so I think you should watch your tongue about 'loitering.'" He took a few steps towards the door, then turned around. "And, lastly, here are wanted posters of the man. Your lead is that he was working with the Destroyers last, so check in the occupied portion of this city." He threw the papers into the tea-house, the leaflets of paper fluttering through the air like petals in the summer wind, and walked out the door, followed by the three War Guards. The sound of marching was heard outside, and, after a brief moment, faded into the cold night. The door slammed behind the soldiers, the symbol of Keelos still stuck to the door in mud.

The wind blew again, and a few siring voices began in the bar. Elli soon emerged from the backroom and began to drag the body away, and a few men got up from their table to help carry the body out front. Another few men began to gather the wanted posters. The ones that landed in the blood were thrown in the fire, while the rest were left at the bar. The patrons returned to their drinks at the table, and an awkward silence drew over the crowd.

Jinro's smile ebbed away as soon as the Inquisitor was gone. He looked down at the bloody, lifeless form on the floor and sighed deeply. The dead man hadn't been one of the group, but he was like them. A head full of grandeur and folly, and more than its share of heartache. Attacking an Inquisitor was just plain old angry foolishness.

"Gerik, take this poor fellow out back for now, will you? Yes, cover him with something this time." he then turned to Dirge with a disapproving frown. He spoke slowly and clearly, as was his wont; emphasizing the words that highlighted his point. "Threatening an Inquisitor is not wise, even if he does not have three squads of city guard to come to his aide. They would kill you before you could even think about changing your mind. You should be more careful." No hint of exasperation or annoyance entered his voice, despite the countless times he had to remind the young people. He didn't mention how bad violence was for business, either. They knew. "You will learn caution some day, my friend. Hopefully your teacher will be words and not a bullet." He chuckled then, and a touch of frivolity returned to his manner.

"Sorry for the disturbance!" Jin said cheerfully to the customers, many of whom were already getting up and leaving. The new banjo boy was nowhere to be seen, his instrument abandoned. Jin helped the serving girl gather up her spilled dishes and then retreated back into his quarters. He emerged a minute later with an extra layer of robes and some cushions tucked under his arms.

"I'll be on the roof." he said as he headed for the stairs. "Elli, bring some hot tea up for us when you get the chance."

The gang would be eager to discuss their plan away from prying ears. The open-sky upstairs lounge was the best place for suck talk, especially on a cold day like this when no customers would be up there. Although Jin was not the gang's leader, he liked to be privy to their planning just in case they started discussing anything ridiculous.

Davarious grabbed a leaflet and stuck it in his pocket.

"The destroyers eh? What an original name." He said with utter sarcasm

He peered around the room, those of which who would brave this assault with him were scattered and varied. "I suppose that with this, we are all going to scramble for him, allow me to give all of you a hint however, because I am sure at least one of you is considering betrayal of some sort in order to get the money to yourself. Do not even try, I have seen that happen on more than one occasion and it always either leads to the man's death, or the failure of the mission. There is more than enough bounty in it for all of us, so I suggest we stay as a team and look sharp." He said all of that in his usual dreary monotone that echoed through the now almost vacant halls. "For optimal efficiency in our endeavor, I suggest we all give a quick introduction and explain what we can do. I will start."

"You may call me Davarious, I am an assassin and can kill from long range. I use a crossbow and pistols, thank you." He looked around at the crowd and sighed, "Alright, who is next?"



Oh, an infiltrator, fun times

"Very nice, I do enjoy a nice sabotage on occasion." He said this with his eyes wandering around the room. Davarious peered his gaze in to her eyes, she had those eyes. Yes, those eyes, the kind that you can never trust because they are trying too hard to be genuine. There was more to her, probably some thefts and murdering of ex-teams. Her smirk revealed her confidence.

Careful now, overconfidence won't get you everywhere.

"We do need to keep this going however." He continued after a few seconds of a pause. "Anyone?"

Too many to con... One or two might work, this many would be too complicated. If I can convince them to let me go in first, I can warn the Destroyers...
Serena stands, and walks over to the group, her fiery red hair flowing behind her. "I assume you are all contemplating accepting this offer." she says. "I'm in as well."
She takes a seat. "Now, who has a plan?"

William raised his eyebrows at the others as he rose from his position behind the couch and came into view. He couldn't see any reason behind introductions like this, apart from the possibility that they were trying to throw other patrons off any idea that they worked together regularly. The way that they were all behaving like they would betray each other at a moments notice was worrying, and the fact that Davarious and Clarissa would loudly announce their "Talents", both requiring utter secrecy, to an entire tea house of patrons was just a bit silly.

"I think Jin will probably have some idea of what to do, so you guys just get onto the roof whenever possible..." William said relatively quietly, before creeping up the stairs,
snatching a throw blanket from a nearby armchair as he did so.It was a cold night, the wind brought with it a bitter, biting chill. William threw the throw over himself and used it as a make shift cloak, then approached Jinhro, sitting down near him and waiting for the others.
"They're acting all weird downstairs, like they don't know each other...And have you got any ideas for a plan yet Jin?"

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