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Author Topic: Steam and Sand 2: Anthracite Days - Game Thread  (Read 25245 times)
Vancouver Air Privateer
Zeppelin Admiral
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United States United States


Privateering off HMAS Landeythan


« on: June 27, 2010, 07:36:46 pm »

Alrighty, 'ere we go. You may enter your characters as you wish.

----

The sun started to creep up over the horizon. It's rays glinted through the glass dome of Bromwicham Atrium, casting gentle sepia light over the precious fields and the fronts of the buildings. Throughout the city, life had already started - people got up early to get work done when the sun was not yet so hot.

At the Rat and Hunter bar, there was already a small crowd there to drink, before they would head off to whatever sort of work they had. It was a rather peaceful morning, actually - a few men in black armour talked quietly at a corner table, easily recognizable as knights.

The bartender lazily scrubs down his establishment. Yawning, he tacks up a few work requests. Most are standard affairs though one does stand out, mostly due to the finer type. It is also a rather curious affair by itself, short and vague.

Looking for persons of courage and discretion. Must be willing to undergo extended travel and danger. Expedition will have nominal funding and potential for great rewards. If interested, call on room 19 at Harriot Hotel, this Atrium, main Circle. This is limited time opportunity. Do not bother unless serious.
Logged

"Blessed be Science and her handmaiden Steam;
They make Utopia only half a dream."

"So he pulls an alternating-current taser on me and tells me that only the Official Serbian Church of Tesla can save my polyphase intrinsic electric field, known to non-engineers as 'the soul.' "
MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #1 on: June 28, 2010, 12:19:47 am »

A young boy, enticing a scruffy, scraggly, almost half-starved (but no less beloved) mongrel across the  main road into Bromwicham and its atrium stopped before the atrium's massive gates, just now being opened by the guards, and stared off to the east, directly into the rising sun. He couldn't quite see, but it looked as if someone might be coming down the old Highway to the East, kicking up dust as if whoever it was, and whatever kind of vehicle it might be, were traveling relatively fast.

"Git outter th' road, young'un!" one of the guards shouted. "If there's summat comin' down th' 'ighway," They'll run ya roight over before they see a scrap o' trouble loik you!" As the boy picked up the mongrel puppy and scrambled to obey the guard, the sound of the vehicle could be heard, growing louder: a steady combination of a 'thwipthwipthwip thwipthwipthwipthwipthwip' pistoning sound, and a steady 'hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissssssss' accompanied by a lower-decibel popPOPpopPOPpopPOPpopPOPpopPOP as of a type small steam engine called a 'Popping Molly,' used for long-distance travel on light vehicles ('long' meaning  'more than 40 miles and less than 70'), usually home-built from a pre-event-manufactured kit from the old days, and remarkably reliable and easy to repair and maintain -- provided one could make or scavenge one's own replacement parts.

As the rider and his vehicle's angle to the sun increased, observers could see that it was an odd-looking military frame and wheel arrangement, but with the Popping Molly where the old standard military coalburning engine would be; those old powerplants were famous and worked wonders, but after a campaign or two most had completely run themselves to destruction. Replacing the engine with a good steam unit often made a very good bike out of a piece of military junk, often faster than standard-built machines.

This one, with the four-foot-high rear wheel, the extra-large water tank, and the fuel tanks on both bike and five-panel sidecar, identified it as a former Cornwallian cavalry/raider contraption that was no longer used by any government's army. Too, the convertible top on the sidecar obscured whatever cargo that component contained; the piece that jutted forward could be a gun of some kind, or just as easily a bundle of digging or surveying tools. It seemed that guns would be more likely, as the faded and badly-scratched-up word 'GUNSMITH' was stenciled at an angle on the outer panel.

The traveler turned up the road to the atrium's gates. It appeared to be a bearded, graying man in his late 40s, begoggled and hatted with a rider's cowl of the sort sometimes still called an 'aviator.' his long Brown Trenchcoat, as he stopped the bike and dismounted for the guards' inspection, came down to just below his knees, and looked as if it were dark brown leather underneath all of the dust that covered the rider from cowled head to Wellington-booted toe. He unbuckled and unbuttoned the coat, revealing more fully the Khukri sheathed at his left side, and the odd magazine-forward-designed pistol holstered at his right. A cutlass hung strapped to the left side of the bike, for all the world as if it were a cavalry saber on a cavalier's steed.

"Name?" The guard asked, clipboard in hand.

"Professor Percival Jeremiah Van Scagg, Gunsmith, Archaeologist, and Scavenger."

"Any other weapons ta declare?" The Guard, apparently the morning's Officer of the Watch, inquired.

The rider replied in an educated voice and a civil tone, "Oh, my, yes. I have three small pocket revolvers in my left coat pocket, several pocket knives and two stillettoes, one stilletto of the commando type that was popular about three years back in same, a Parabellum semiautomatic pistol in my right coat pocket, along with five throwing knives, and of course my cane, along with several examples of my skills and several firearms to trade -- Oh! yes, and the Maxim on my sidecar."

The guard noted them all down. As the line was getting long behind the rider, he waved him on through with the usual lightning-fast speech about being allowed to carry his weapons as long as he didn't use them, and the wish to avoid trouble if at all possible, also to carry his Maxim to avoid having it stolen or vandalized, the atrium not to be held responsible if such occurred, etc....

The Professor got back on his Motorcyle, and thwipthwipthwipthwipthwip'ed his way to the Parking Area, and  found his way to one of his favorite haunts from years back, the Rat and Hunter bar, to look for a Rig to Join and a job to do, and maybe find a couple of his old bartop carvings.

He removed the maxim from tthe remote-operable windmill alt-az mount, slung it over his back, then locked down the convertible top on the sidecar. He entered the bar, and found that a new top was on the bar itself, but that there was an odd note for a job, to be applied for at the old Harriott Hotel in Room 19. Van Scagg drank the shot of rum that he had ordered just to cut the dust in his throat, and then paid and headed out for the hotel. He noticed the other fellows in the bar, and someone he thought he recognized from years past, but he was in a hurry to sign on for the posted expedition. Maybe he could come back and look the fellow up afterward. He pulled the forelock to the gentleman in any case, just in case it was someone he knew.  

HE did not notice the tail he picked up until he was almost at the hotel, and then he simply turned around, threw his coat back from his right hip, and put his hand near his gun, and looked the fellow straight in the eye. The Bounty hunter (for such he had to be) ducked into the nearby dry goods store and had not come back out again When the professor turned back around and entered the hotel, asking at the desk for Room 19, finding same, and politely knocking on the door. A voice answered, asking his name, and he  called in reply, "I'm Percy Van Scagg! I've come about the Rig Job posted in the Rat and Hunter?"
« Last Edit: June 28, 2010, 07:04:46 am by MWBailey » Logged

Walk softly and carry a big banjo...

""quid statis aspicientes in infernum"
Nigel Wetherby
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Knowledge eternal!


« Reply #2 on: June 28, 2010, 05:02:49 am »

The door to the humble bar swung open, and the blinding-light of the rising sun silouetted a strange, two-headed shape, which loped into the tavern with three legs, until such time as the yellow, gummy oil lights illuminated the face of a young with thick, curly black hair and a nose flattened by some mighty fist. Slumped over the young man's shoulder was what looked to be an older gentleman, his face was a hideous mound of swollen purple lumps and black bruises.
The young man sat him down onto one of the bar stools and placed a few dented coins on the table.

"Buy this man the strongest thing you got. The whole bottle if you please, and a rag, pref'rbly a clean one." The young man said with a strange accent that could only be identified by those who had met with the Travellers.
The barkeep slid a bottle of burboun, a well-worn tumbler, and a grayed rag.
"You will want to wipe your face with it first, to prevent infection." The young man advised before taking a few deep gulps from the bottle and approaching the board to investigate an elegant flyer which caught his eye.
He read it as he picked bits of tooth out of his knuckles, which glistened with mingling viscera.
"Next time, I wrap the ladies up..." He mumbled to himself before reading the instructions to respond to the advert.

"Excuse me." He said rather politely to the barkeep. "Might you point me to the hotel?"
« Last Edit: June 28, 2010, 10:18:58 am by Nigel Wetherby » Logged
Stella Gaslight
Governor
Time Traveler
****
United States United States


Looking for a few good lobsters.


WWW
« Reply #3 on: June 28, 2010, 06:11:39 am »

The walk was slow it had a rhythm like the songs her mother used to sing while doing the washing.  With the beat rising up through her feet Miri could walk on for days without discomfort. From the outcropping she had sheltered in to Bromwicham Atrium was nothing compared to some of the distances she had traveled.  She let the dusty motorbike enter first she was in no hurry.  Miri shook the dust from her clothes and smiled at the rather bewildered looking guard.  He had not expected to see a young woman strolling in from the wilds like it was a pleasant Sunday afternoon.  "Name  Miss?" The guard asked not entirely sure what to think of her.

"Not Miss, Mrs. Mirium Sengupta" Her voice was lightly accented and amused.

"Ah Mrs. Sengupta. Why did you come here?" It was braking protocol but he was rather intrigued.

"I am in need of some supplies and companionship. Is this not a fine place for both?"  She said with a smile

"I suppose mam."  She had an odd bow on her back and a hunting rifle but she did not look like a threat. "Any other weapons ta declare?"

"No. May I enter?"

"Um yes." He sounded rather unsure but Mirium walked on in to the town like she was a tourist taking in the sites. First to the tavern she thought and then on to the shops. She was rather thirsty and taverns were often the heart of things. Mirium noted that she was one of the few patrons early this morning one of the other was a rather beaten young man.  She winced as she saw him swabbing his face with harsh alcohol, there were far better way to do it and she had many of them in her pack.  Miri wandered over his direction party out of curiosity about the man and partly to see the job notice board.  she plunked down one stool away from him contemplating either speaking to him or asking where the hotel was to gain some more info on the job that had caught her attention.  
Logged

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MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #4 on: June 28, 2010, 07:46:06 am »

Van Scagg walked back into the bar bit later, after having completed his interview. The fellow had hired him on the spot; apparently Percy's reputation in these parts was still respectable. The interview had had a few rough spots, of course, mainly concerning his falling-out with the Cornwallian Academics minister over offering a class in 'Waste Survival and Archaeological Protocols in Same.' The Minister had complained that it smacked of encouragement to abscond from School and go treasure-hunting. The Professor countered that if they were going to do any good at all in rediscovering the technology of the past, the students needed to get out and look for it, and that in order to teach them how, he had to first teach them how to survive the harshness of the wastes.

The Minister had refused to see Percy's side, and Percy decided it was time for a change of scenery. He had assured the representative of the rig's owners that he would not simply go haring off in search of greener pastures, and finally, the fellow had hired him, as both crewman and mechanics mate, and weapons technician.

He walked back into the bar, but did not see the fellow he had thought he had recognized. He went to the bar, propped the .50-caliber muzzle-up against it, took the three or four ammo belts from his shoulders (he could only imagine the quasi-military Tom Fool he must have looked with the huge gun slung on his back and it's ammo belts around his neck. He groaned as he laid the belts on the bar, and muttered "next time , I'm carryin' it like an oar. Damned shoulder sling is a joke!"

"Barkeep? Yes, one shot glass full of rum, and a large pitcher of water, please, and a tumbler, if I may." the barkeep brought the requested items and watched, bemused as the apparently-batty old prof dropped the shot glass full of rum into the pitcher of water, then picked up the pitcher, swirled it around a bit, and then poured the resulting mixture into the tumbler, and  poured three glassfuls down his throat before slowing down. He saw the young woman looking on, and offered her the glass. "Takes the edge off yer fatigue," he said, "but it won't get ya drunk, or not enough to matter, at any rate."
« Last Edit: June 28, 2010, 03:39:57 pm by MWBailey » Logged
ScytheKnight
Officer
***
Australia Australia


Mysterious Figure

ScytheKnight84
« Reply #5 on: June 28, 2010, 09:35:52 am »

Harris was having a bad time of it lately, things can get bad enough as a gun for hire but when one counts in still being hunted as a deserter from the Anglia Army and they can get downright miserable. He'd not had a decent hire for days and to make maters worse he was beginning to suspect he was being followed, either full blown paranoia was setting in at last or he'd been tracked down again by Anglian bounty hunters.

"Damn" he mutters into his whiskey "Looks like it's time to take a hire out of town" his musing was interrupted as someone walked through the doors into the bar, a middle aged gentleman in a brown trenchcoat and wearing an 'Aviator' riders cowl, the thing that made him stand out in the crowd however was the Maxim machine gun slung over his shoulder, very few of these powerful weapons had survived since the Event. 'Where in the blazes did he find something like THAT?! and it must be in working order with all that ammo he's lugging around.' he thought to himself, just then the gentleman turned to him as he surveyed the room and Harris felt a stirring of recognition, he wasn't sure how or where but he felt that he knew this man. As gently as possible to avoid notice he drifted one of his hands into his long duster to the hilt of one of his two high caliber revolvers, much more rugged and reliable nowadays then the often problematic semi-autos, but the gent seems slightly bemused as well. Harris watched carefully as the stranger ordered a nip of rum and browsed through the job board, Harris had already looked over the board before and had noticed the job offer that seemed to have caught the stranger's eye, he downed the drink and turned to leave absently tugging a forelock in Harris' direction as he passed.

'Interesting, how do I know him? Something about my days in the Army? I think I better try and find out who this guy is.' Harris sat musing for a minute before he finished his drink and tossed his tab on the table 'one way or another I'm out of here today.' before standing up and picking up the soft leather case holding his most prized possession, a modified high-accuracy, lever-action rifle modified with a looking glass mounted where the iron sights would normally sit making for a crude, but highly effective scope, and walked out the bar. He saw the gentleman walking down the street towards the district that houses the Harriot Hotel where interviews for the rig job where being held, he also noticed the tail he had picked up 'Interesting.' he thought before carefully slipping in behind the tail to watch what happened. It was near the hotel before the stranger noticed the tail, Harris only barely had time to slip out of sight before the gentleman spun around exposing the gun at his hip and placing a hand on it, the tail slipped into a nearby store and Harris felt an almost electrical shock at the face he saw reflected in the window has he went inside 'SHIT! That's the gut that's been following me! Who in all the hells carries a Maxim around and is wanted by Anglian bounty hunters?' he pulled back further into the shadows as the stranger gave the street one last searching look before he entered the Hotel.

'Time to get some answers.' Harris thought to himself from his hiding spot 'Bloke his age can't walk around with that Maxim everywhere, must have some kind of vehicle.' with that thought he slipped out of his hiding spot and headed to the main parking area. He first checked on his own ride, an old Anglia Foxhound military motorcycle that had been heavily modified for long range touring without replacing the original coal burning powerplant, not to mention several repair jobs, that he had 'acquired' when he'd deserted from the Anglian army. He spent a minute or so checking the bike over and making sure it hadn't been tampered with, when he was satisfied that it was as he had left it he continued his search. It didn't take long for him to locate the bike he was looking for, a Cornwall raider's bike modified with a Popping Molly steam boiler instead of it's original coal burner, a quick look at the sidecar showed it was setup as a gunner's station/storage area So that's where he keeps that brute of a Maxim with the faded lettering on the side proclaiming the owner as a Gunsmith. 'A Gunsmith? Hmmm something about an operation.. had a civilian consultant of some kind... didn't talk to the guy but saw him a few times around the commanders.' Harris stood looking at the bike a few minutes thinking furiously 'Well I need to leave town anyway... and perhaps we have a common problem with bounty hunters, I better get over to the Harriot Hotel... that Rig job is starting to look more and more interesting.'

A short while later Harris was walking back to the bar after taking the job 'Amazing how a name like Dead Eye helps on 'security' jobs, that and the sight of my old girl on my back here.' he started to chuckle to himself before quickly ducking into the shadows again. A cautious look showed the bounty hunter that had been following the Gunsmith and himself with some others talking in sight of the front door to the bar he'd been at earlier where they could keep an eye on people going in and out. 'SHIT! This just gets better and better.' Looking around he saw the alley that would lead to the Rat and Hunter's back door. Beinng careful to keep out of sight as much as possible he made it to the alley and heading into the bar.

Once he entered the bar he found the Gunsmith at the bar, his Maxim and ammo belts on the surface. Harris walked up to the bar and slipped onto the stool next to his fellow fugitive, his skin almost crawling as he exposed his back to the rest of the bar, not to mention the door where the ambush was waiting. As the Gunsmith looked over to him in mild surprise the memory came back 'Percival Jeremiah Van Scagg, some kind of weapons and explosive guru.... some kind of professor now isn't he? Well he's here now and seems he's as big a target now as I am.' Harris looked Van Scagg in there eye and said quietly "Professor Percival Jeremiah Van Scagg? It seems we have a problem, there a small group of bounty hunters outside looking for one or both of us. And I'm not sure how much longer they're going to wait around before they decide to come in and settle maters right here."
Logged

"The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents."

H.P. Lovecraft

"The Call of Cthulhu."


Are you living in the real world?

Cowboy Bebop, The Movie.
Vancouver Air Privateer
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Privateering off HMAS Landeythan


« Reply #6 on: June 28, 2010, 04:34:02 pm »

The job that Percival and Harris had applied to was given by a rather nondescript young man, of indeterminate origin. He had outlined the conditions for the rig and for joining up, but had left the initial goal of the group unknown. He had claimed he wanted to address this to the entire group, when assembled, but it did seem to be a more than normal shroud of secrecy. They were to meet back at the Hotel that night.

Meanwhile, at the bar, the door was suddenly flung open with a loud clatter. The few patrons eyed it with disapproving gazes, not being appreciative of so much noise so early in the morning. The man that walked in almost instantly started to draw stares. He was short, with wispy hair and dark eyes. Most noticeably he had two long cuts going up from the sides of his mouth - known as a "Glasgow Smile" this grisly mutilation was usually indicative of one that had ticked off one of the various tribes that ran rampant in Scotland. It was not uncommon for folk who ventured past the border to come back thus scared as a warning. Behind him came four men, all tall and muscular, varying shades of large. They also had long coats, good for concealing a weapon.

The small man looked over everyone in the bar, taking especial note of the pair of knights seated at the corner table - and of Harris. He gave a gruesome sneer of disapproval on seeing the guards. He gestured to  his cohorts, who left the bar by the front door. He simply took a table and some drinks and watched, waiting. Eventually the pair of knights left for their duties. He smiled, which looked quite hideous. But still he waited. Through the front of the bar, two of the goons were quite conspicuously watching the front.


Logged
Stella Gaslight
Governor
Time Traveler
****
United States United States


Looking for a few good lobsters.


WWW
« Reply #7 on: June 28, 2010, 06:26:59 pm »

"Why thank you sir."  She downed the offered drink with a happy sigh.  She was enjoying a rest in the shade of the bar and the small spattering of conversation from the man who had offered her the drink. She was getting ready to leave for the hotel when a rather hi strung looking man approached them and suddenly things looked a bit more interesting.  "I can help a little there is a back passage in the ladies necessary.  I believe it is a crumbled stairway to the living quarters above.  You many be able to doge prying eyes that way,"  Miri paused watching the thugs enter and then leave. "Or perhaps not.  Do either of you have any ideas on extracting us from this?  Those gentlemen seem to have a rather harsh outlook on things and I am more outfitted to hunting beasts on for legs rather than two."   
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Nigel Wetherby
Zeppelin Admiral
******
United States United States


Knowledge eternal!


« Reply #8 on: June 28, 2010, 06:33:56 pm »

With almost animal instinct, Pitivo flung his gaze from his drink to the ominous figures which entered the bar and brought with them the smell of the damned lunatic tribes of Glasgow. He'd fought a few lads from there, they were madmen who kicked and scratched and bit, roaring and yowling like wild beasts.
He had never faced one in a life or death struggle before, but he imagined if a wild man from the moors wanted you dead, there was no doubt he would do anything to acheive the goal.

He observed discreetly as the mutillated man took his seat and waited like a vulture over a dying man. Everything about him struck Pitivo as wrong, and it was only bade worse once the knights left and the scarred man smiled. It was a smile that made his skin crawl, and fingers of ice slid up his spine.
As two of the large men stepped in, he narrowed his eyes and looked hard, searching them with his eyes for any weapons, or signs that they might fight dirty. Knife sheaths, strange bumps in the clothing, gunpowder burns, any trace of a deadly weapon and a bit more tact would be required than it would for his usual strategy of Face breaking.
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JohnSix
Zeppelin Admiral
******
Ireland, Republic of Ireland, Republic of


Doctor of Magic

Johnsix
« Reply #9 on: June 28, 2010, 06:37:49 pm »

One never learns how fast you can run until one being perused by a trio of burly thugs wielding the rustiest of axes.

12 minutes previously Sam O'Grady was forced to learn the lesson: If you plan to fraudulently sell the supposedly abandoned ruins Buckingham Palace, you'd best make sure one of the mark's body guards hasn't just returned from London.
So words where said, voices were raised and now Sam was barrelling down the various back alleys lanes.
Sam looked back to see he'd made no progress in losing the thugs, and quickly changed tactics. He darts to the left and onto the main street and the busy market crowds. The thugs turn after him, tossing and pushing bystanders aside. Sam weaved into the crowd and after pinching a long brown coat from a poorly attended stall blended in completely.
Sam ducked into another alley on the opposite side of the street, discreetly watching the thugs search the crowd. They weren't giving up any time soon...

Still out of breath, Sam slips down the alley towards the back door of the Rat and Hunter. He was friendly with the owner, and could probably hide out there. He enters through the rear entrance (after giving the lock a little coercing) and emerges from behind the bar.
He's somewhat shocked to find a bar full of heavily armed and thuggish people.

"Oh....ermmm.... hello?"
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ScytheKnight
Officer
***
Australia Australia


Mysterious Figure

ScytheKnight84
« Reply #10 on: June 28, 2010, 09:38:00 pm »

Harris eyes the man at the table thinking the situation over, quickly coming to the conclusion that there's no way out of this without a fight. But still, he has a few tricks up his sleeves that will even the odds somewhat. He turns to the professor and smiles slightly "If you can't run and you can't hide... it's time to roll the dice." With that comment he gets up from the bar and walk over to the table where the bounty hunter is sitting and sits down across from him.

"Well, it seems all the pieces are on the board" He says to the hunter before him. He opens his duster somewhat so that the hunter can watch him as he pulls out a couple of hand-rolled cigarettes and a matchbook. "Care a smoke before we begin?" He says offering the second smoke to the hunter who accepts. Placing his own cigarette in his mouth with a smile he lights a match and sets his own cigarette before moving the match towards the center of the table to light his opponent's, when the hunter obliges by leaning forward a few inches with a contemptuous sneer.

The sneer disappears in an expression of shock as the faint hiss of well-oiled steel can be heard as a foot long blade suddenly springs out from behind Harris' arm as he clenches his fist slicing the bounty hunter's throat before he can pull back. With another hiss the blade retracts and Harris stands up while the hunter still vainly tries to hold his life blood in that is still bubbling out between his fingers, but within seconds he gives a gurgling sigh as he collapses on the table.

Taking a rag from his duster to remove the worst of the blood Harris looks to the professor with another grim smile "One down, four to go.. have any particular ideas?"
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MWBailey
Rogue Ætherlord
*
United States United States


"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

rtafStElmo
« Reply #11 on: June 28, 2010, 10:46:17 pm »

The Professor turned on his stool and looked the fellow up and down, and pointed his right index finger and wagged it excitedly, his gaze taking in the tall height wiry frame, with  short black hair and brown eyes, and multitude (what can be seen, anyway) of scars from previous debacles.
The lever-action rifle, the  pair of large-bore revolvers and the several bulges of several other smaller weapons hidden under the long leather duster and medium earth-toned heavy-duty clothes,  tight-fitting forage cap and shaded goggles that looked like some kind of modified Motorcycle type puswed up on top of the cap's bill.

 "I know you, sir! I'm not sure from where, but it had to be either Cornwall or...AHA! You were that fellow who was so good with his revolvers, that time that Anglia retook Battersea, aren't you!?
--------------
"Well, in my experience, its usually best to avoid a fight if one can," Percy said in a normal voice. He had been about to suggest the back way out, when a one of the big, strapping Brothers Thugly suddenly appeared at the door to the 'Necessary Rooms.' Well, that takes care of that escape plan, he thought. "But, if one cannot avoid a fight, one should do whatever one has to do to win it and survive until the next encounter, whatever it may be," he said, as he reached out, picked up his .50 caliber and slung over his shoulder, in combat-ready position, then put the ammo belts around his neck, casually, almost accidentally slipping one into the gun and closing the bar over the top of it. "Something tells me that telling that lot that the Escaped Scientist bounty that Anglia put out on me ten or eleven-odd years ago has expired, and that the King 'imself washed his hands of me (literally, in fact) would not have the effect that we might desire.".

He made sure the catchbag was properly latched (the empties were so very handy to have on hand, don't you know).

"Now, what we need is a diversion, So that someone can knock out the Thugly Brother over at the necessaries and take themselves and her out that way (be warned, at least one Thugly will be on guard at the back of the necessaries) whilst I and one or two others take on the Thugly Family Reunion bunch at the door -- oh, and Papa Thugly over there  -- The professor cut off, noting that Harris had already dispatched he Human Display of Decorative Scarring in the middle of the room.

"Well, that works out, but we need a div--!" He cut off as the fellow, obviously a picklocks who had ducked in the staff entrance, skidded to a halt behind the bar, and in the most incredibly attention -getting 'lost' kind of voice, said, "Oh....ermmm.... hello?"

"Thats it, my friends, Percy said. Madame, if you and our young boxer friend can take out Thugly Boy at the necessaries? Jolly good." He turned to Harris. And now, Mister Harris, if you will, we shall each take a couple of Thuglies at the front door." And they all moved off to take care of their various targets. "Excuse me," Percy said to the Front Door Thugs, "but can you direct me to the nearest dung heap? Besides yourselves, 'at is?!" And clonked out the first one with the barrel of the .50, and while Harris took care of his own end pulled the Khukri and made short work of the next Thugly to try to take him down. 5 More Thuglies were gathering outside, and they pointed their waepons and fired at Harris and Percy,  but three went down and the rest scattered fearfully when Percy Brandished the maxim, gripping it by the foregrip and the gun handle, and fired a burst into their midst, chasing the last two around a bend in the passage not far away with a line of bullets, which caused the thick earth wall to spit gouts of dirt. The two came back almost immediately, guns blazing, but Percy flipped the catch on the Maxim to Semiautomatic, and almost casually drilled each through the chest before they ahd come four paces.

"Perhaps we'd best go 'round teh back and see how the young fellow and the lady are faring," Percy said to Harris.
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Stella Gaslight
Governor
Time Traveler
****
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« Reply #12 on: June 29, 2010, 12:05:30 am »

Miri glanced over at the large imposing man and smiled pulling on a pair of leather gloves.  Using Pitivo has a barrier from prying eyes
 she prepped some of the darts she kept on hand for taking down larger more dangerous pray.  She whispered in to Pitivo's ear.  "I can take out the small mountain blocking our way but once he topples they are going to know what we are up to and we will have to move fast."  Smiling she made a small movement and sent the dart on it's way.
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« Reply #13 on: June 29, 2010, 01:18:30 am »

Sam dove under the bar just as the gunfire kicked off. Luckily, like most good bars, was bulletproof.
Above him bottles and glasses shattered under the hail of fire...

"Holy... What the hell?" He swore as he tried to figure out what was happening or at least who was shooting at who...

He started towards the back door again, stopping momentarily to pocket an intact bottle of liquor.....



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Nigel Wetherby
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« Reply #14 on: June 29, 2010, 03:33:35 am »

Pitivo grinned and lined up his knuckles before slipping a pair of ominous black gauntlets onto his hands. He would need to work fast, and a good punch from one of these babies would either send its target off to dreamland, or kill him.
Either way, they would not be getting up.

He watched the dart sail across the air, and stood up, prepared to leap across the room if nescesarry, feinging a drunkard's sickness and hoping everyone would simply assume he was about to be violently ill, instead of suspecting him of attacking someone who amy or may not have been behind the bar.
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« Reply #15 on: June 29, 2010, 05:23:54 am »

The thug scratched his neck where the dart had hit him. He pulled it out, curious, before he trembled and slumped down to the ground. His partner whirled around, spotting Pitivo, who was in front of where the dart had actually come from. The man charged, not ready or willing to ask questions.

Out front there were screams and gasps as the sounds of gunshots echoed from the bar. This instantly drew the attention of every nearby Knight on beat and soon a small force of them were arrayed in front of the bar, rifles pointed at the dimly lit place.

Behind the bar, the barkeep glared daggers at Sam.

"What the 'ell have you brought here?! Nevermind, just get your looney friends out of here. Back way, take the back way! I'm not going to have my establishment mixed up in this." The brave barkeep stood up and ventured outside, attempting to placate the alarmed policing force.
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Nigel Wetherby
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« Reply #16 on: June 29, 2010, 06:28:59 am »

"Thank god." He said with the grin of a wolf hunting a rabbit. "I was getting too bored with just drinking." He spat onto the worn wooden panel floor and hopped in place. His eyes focused on his belligerent opponent, and made silent inferences.
 There was a cracking of knuckles and the clanking of steel as Pitivo whirled around.
His opponent was big and muscular, which meaned he was used to fights ending early for him.
Pitivo got into a good stance, one foot in front of the other.
He leaned foreward and let a black, steel covered fist fly upward towards the Grunt's chin.
With any luck, he could shatter some teeth.

« Last Edit: June 29, 2010, 06:43:13 am by Nigel Wetherby » Logged
Stella Gaslight
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« Reply #17 on: June 29, 2010, 07:03:09 am »

Miri was skilled at slipping through people. She had been the youngest girl in her home town and played the rough and tumble games with the boys.  It had proved useful in her travels and it helped her dart out from behind of Pitivo and in to the hall heading to the ladies necessary before the charging man could make a change in his momentum.  It was shockingly clean and rather quiet in the ladies room.  A band of sunlight shone under the door of what looked like a closet it was what clued Miri in to the haphazardly boarded up staircase.  Checking to make sure no one was going to jump out at her Miri flung the door open darts ready for any surprise.  It was her lucky day, the ruined stairwell and the alley way behind the bar seemed empty.  Now all the had to do was wait for Pitivo and they would be out hopefully before they picked up any followers.
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ScytheKnight
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« Reply #18 on: June 29, 2010, 10:04:40 am »

Harris chuckled grimly to himself as the last bounty hunter fell 'Seems they didn't count on the old Professor's Maxim... Amateurs' He turned to the professor just as he started hearing whistles and shouts from patrol members nearby "Seems about time to leave this party. Bounty hunters are one thing, but I don't want to try explaining this to those knights, and the mess we made they may not be inclined to ask anyway."

With that Harris quickly dashes into the alleyway holstering his revolvers while looking over his shoulder to check the professor was following and that no knights or patrol where immediately in sight before taking a small grenade like item out of one of his pockets as they reaches a fork in the lane. He turns to the slightly out-of-breath professor and says "This is where we part ways for now I think, but if you took that rig job like I think you would have we'll meet again at the Hotel soon, if not then stay safe and my thanks for lending a hand , and that Maxim, back there. Been years since Anglia have been after me THIS bad. I'll roll this little smoker back they way we came, should confuse them enough for both of us to slip away... just watch your back until we get out of town.. whoever organized this many bounty hunters is gonna be PISSED to learn we killed most of them"

As he finishes he takes a couple of deep drags from the cigarette still in his mouth from when he killed the lead bounty hunter and used it to light the fuse on the smoke grenade before rolling it down the alleyway they had just come down, as it starts to release large amount of smoke everywhere he jogs down one of the lanes with one eye on every shadow and one hand on a revolver grip.
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MWBailey
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« Reply #19 on: June 29, 2010, 03:06:42 pm »

"Right you are, Mr. Harris, I'll see you there." and Percy took a nearby fork, heading for the parking area. Waiting for a disturbance to distract any nearby watchers, he was rewarded with a screaming "stop,thieves!" suddenly echoing from the next circle over.  He walked nonchalantly to his Bike, unlocked the sidecar's side hatch, and squeezed in against his tools and wares, replacing the .50 in its scabbard and wrappings. He pulled the door shut behind him and latched it, and crouched there in the short-heighted space between floorboards and convertible top, as he had often done before. He then divested himself of the ammo belts, rolling them into a tight bundle, and stowed them under the seat, and sat in crouch for a moment on the sturdy shelf/workbench at the front of the camper-like sidecar's interior.

The small, goggle-sized clear resin and glass circles mounted in specially-sewn frames in the convertible top's leather sides admitted enough light from the relatively-well-lit parking area to see and let him remove his coat, which he hung on hook on the door, kicking the bottom hem sideways with a boot. he sat on the shelf/bench, and took out a bundle of pig jerky, grabbed a canteen from the nook under the shelf on which he sat, and then transferred himself to the seat and had an early, furtive lunch, making an effort to be as quiet as possible so as not to attract any attention, and subsequently waited out the day, folding down the small working surface that he used when confined to the side car on such occasions as this and others, and took from its traveling case one of the trade pistols, which would fetch a better price if he adjusted its cylinder alignment, and set to work.
« Last Edit: June 29, 2010, 04:13:32 pm by MWBailey » Logged
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« Reply #20 on: June 29, 2010, 03:50:02 pm »

There was a loud crack as Pivito connected with the last thug's chin. His head jerks backwards and he tumbles, bashing it against the floor. He groans slightly but seems in no mood to get up, blood streaming from cuts across his face.

There seems to be no more thugs around and the way out the back is clear. The knights only start to move in to question the barkeep after everyone involved is fled from the scene (or dead or otherwise incapacitated.)

For the next bit, the Atrium starts to quiet down, though more Knights are around than usual. There seems to be more of an effort to hush up the events than search for perpetrators.



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JohnSix
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« Reply #21 on: June 29, 2010, 04:09:48 pm »

Sam rolls out the rear door only to be greeted by a cloud of smoke.
Coughing and hacking, he stumbles into the alley as a few people rush out past him.

He turns to make sure no nosy law men are on the way....

"What the hell was that all about?"
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MWBailey
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"This is the sort of thing no-one ever believes"

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« Reply #22 on: June 29, 2010, 11:11:38 pm »

After a while, Percy (having dozed off for a little while) stretched, stood up crouched over in the sidecar, and packed up the pistol he had adjusted and five or six others, plus a Mauser rifle he had refurbished sometime ago, and bundled them all in a large, squarish canvas bag with a leather-reinforced bottom.

He also unpacked the Maxim and two belts, and climbed out, put one belt on his shoulder and one in the gun and then slung the Maxim across his shoulders diagonally, attached the midpoint bipod stand just in case, then took the beloved little hand-mortar blunderbuss and put it in the carryall and shouldered it as well, leaving the coat and cowl in the sidecar and putting on an old, wide-brimmed gray felt fedora with a rumpled brim, goggles around the hatband, on his graying , balding head. and then locked up the sidecar and set off for the Trading Post, hoping for a profitable transaction...
« Last Edit: June 30, 2010, 03:43:58 am by MWBailey » Logged
Nigel Wetherby
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« Reply #23 on: June 30, 2010, 12:33:20 am »

Pitivo tore through the rear door, knocking it off its hinges as he shot through the back door and through a thick veil of foul smelling smoke.
"Heheheh! That was the best time I've had in all of six minutes!" Pitivo declared excitedly, half hoping that he could knock a few more thugs into unconciousness.
He slipped his gauntlets off and hung them from a leather thong at his belt before checking with any other escapees.
"Alright, who here is headed to that apartment? If so, I have a bit of a feeling we may want to leave to there as soon as possible."

He pulled out his revolver and cocked it, prepared for a less honorable skirmish, should it arise.
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Stella Gaslight
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« Reply #24 on: June 30, 2010, 01:33:31 am »

Miri covered her mouth with a treated cloth blocking most of the harshness of the smoke. Her eyes still stung but the protective mask for that was far within her pack and she could not be bothered to dig it out. She laughed at Pitivo's enthusiasm.  "Well I am glad one of us is enjoying himself. Lets go see about that job before we run in to any more excitement."  Blinking the smoke from her eyes she missed Sam until she bumped in to him with a good deal of force. "Excuse me." She said reading another dart in case she had bumped in to trouble.
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