Well, today the whole group didn't quite show up as planned. But all who showed up still had a grand time despite not gaming. Next week I hope we can get it all together. Though after sitting down in our new location for a while the realization of room might be a problem. But that can be figured out.
In other news, what I just posted is something I just wanted to get out there for Saturday's plot. What does it mean?! Well, I had a gun above the fire place and had to use it. Though, was this the time and the place? Perhaps or I am getting trigger happy. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Game Filler 3-19
NOTE: This piece of fiction is not a representation of anything in particular. It is a piece of fiction. It is also filler. So, this will go along with the plot, but not what happened in the absent game play.
The destruction of his cruel reality would soon cease in merely a few hours. The curse of his grandfather would bee seen as a miracle and his parents would not be seen as dabblers of a "theoretical" science but as pioneers. Three generations of Liecks brought to shame by bumbling scientists so weak in mind they could not read the greatest work to be devised by man or god. Soon, these scientists who scorned his grandfather's and father's work will be written out of history to always be forgotten and the Liecks name will rise above all.
He stands tall in his office, surrounded by glass and metal. Below him is movement and lights which reflects off the metal roof of the office. This man, Dr. Martin Liecks, stands in the heart of the ULPIM, far underground the fairgrounds. Dr. Liecks looks through his brass goggles through the sweaty water stained glass of his office down at the tubes, wires, cogs, sprockets, pendulums, and other apparatuses which lines the grand underground hall. The lackeys sit in front of many panels on the floor, all wearing white lab coats and wearing large leather gloves. They are making sure each meter does not go above or below a limit. Their hands twitch on knobs. Others slightly nudge levers. There are a few who even get to push a button between slightly turning a knob and then nudging a lever. Martin could trust his lackeys at this stage, but soon he knew the machine would take over.
Martin knew that the machine was watching all of them, and that was the plan. It had been the plan since he found stability in the engine. He had read it in his father's plans. The fools of Ferson and Tubs never realized that the pictures of the barely dressed women, which Martin's father insisted to be put in, had secret messages in them. His father hid a letter instructing them how to find the messages. The wonders which these instructions unfolded were hard to believe at first. But now since Martin has managed to construct the machine, his Angel, he knows not what boundaries of reality it can penetrate.
Martin could feel a smile curl on his lips as he caressed the first published version of the first volume of "Dr. Liecks's Curse" which stands neatly in the office on a podium. A source of light from the ceiling illuminates the book as if it is a gift from the goddess. He pats the book, one of the last memories he had of his father and mother after their unfortunate demise. It is their legacy about to be realized through Martin's Angel.
"Sir," a man knocks on the large metal office door as he enters, "the countdown is starting."
"Good!" Martin swings his body around, the lab coat which he wears furls out from his body. This makes his movements more dramatic. "How long?"
"When it started it was at 12 hours," the man says. "Then after the chronometer reaches 0, we can celebrate. Are you sure that..."
"Oh, yes I am sure that we will make it past the 0 mark." Martin says with a triumphant laugh. "That after the countdown we can all rest as ease. My family's wronged past will be rewritten and you and I can gain the benefits! What was the input and output ratio?"
"1000 Leumer of Input to every 1 Leumer of Output." The man says gravely, but then a black badge attached by a metal clip to the man's lapel makes a crackling noise. The man looks toward his shoulder in the location of the black badge. The black badge is connected to a spiraled wire which connects to a box which is strapped to the man's back.
"This is unit watch A-345 reporting in for the half hour recordings," A garbled voice is produced through the black badge. "The reverse chronograph reads at 11 hours and 30 minutes. Instruments indicate 968 Leumer of Input to 5 Leumer of Output."
"That seems to be on time," Martin muses to himself and he looks at his own chronometer. A few calculations in his own head confirm and he nods.
"This is Dr. Corbin," says the man with the badge on. Dr. Cordin presses a button which is stuck on the side of the badge. The crackling noise stops as he keeps the button held down. "Dr. Liecks reports that is sounds fine. Continue."
"Unit Watch A-345 is signing out." The badge blurts out and then with a click the voice and the static stops.
"Leave me, Dr. Cordin." Dr. Liecks says with a wave of his hand. "I want to watch this machine myself. It has been my life's work to build this machine. I can spot a problem by just watching the machinery. Unlike these men, I do not need the aide of scales, thermometers, or gages to see something happening."
Dr. Cordin nods and leaves from Dr. Liecks sight. Dr. Liecks swings his body and walks toward the wall. He looks up and smiles as he sees the glint of glass in the dark corner. The iris lens through the glass focuses on him, and a small ray of invisible light passes over his smiling face. With the goggles, he can see the light pass over him and the experience makes his skin tingle with delight.
"You know I am here, my Angel. You are much like a babe recognizing your own father." He continues to stare into the lens as if he could hear something talking to him. "They don't realize what you are capable of, and in a few hours as we celebrate, you will show them all."
Dr. Liecks starts to laugh madly.
The destruction of his cruel reality would soon cease in merely a few hours. The curse of his grandfather would bee seen as a miracle and his parents would not be seen as dabblers of a "theoretical" science but as pioneers. Three generations of Liecks brought to shame by bumbling scientists so weak in mind they could not read the greatest work to be devised by man or god. Soon, these scientists who scorned his grandfather's and father's work will be written out of history to always be forgotten and the Liecks name will rise above all.
He stands tall in his office, surrounded by glass and metal. Below him is movement and lights which reflects off the metal roof of the office. This man, Dr. Martin Liecks, stands in the heart of the ULPIM, far underground the fairgrounds. Dr. Liecks looks through his brass goggles through the sweaty water stained glass of his office down at the tubes, wires, cogs, sprockets, pendulums, and other apparatuses which lines the grand underground hall. The lackeys sit in front of many panels on the floor, all wearing white lab coats and wearing large leather gloves. They are making sure each meter does not go above or below a limit. Their hands twitch on knobs. Others slightly nudge levers. There are a few who even get to push a button between slightly turning a knob and then nudging a lever. Martin could trust his lackeys at this stage, but soon he knew the machine would take over.
Martin knew that the machine was watching all of them, and that was the plan. It had been the plan since he found stability in the engine. He had read it in his father's plans. The fools of Ferson and Tubs never realized that the pictures of the barely dressed women, which Martin's father insisted to be put in, had secret messages in them. His father hid a letter instructing them how to find the messages. The wonders which these instructions unfolded were hard to believe at first. But now since Martin has managed to construct the machine, his Angel, he knows not what boundaries of reality it can penetrate.
Martin could feel a smile curl on his lips as he caressed the first published version of the first volume of "Dr. Liecks's Curse" which stands neatly in the office on a podium. A source of light from the ceiling illuminates the book as if it is a gift from the goddess. He pats the book, one of the last memories he had of his father and mother after their unfortunate demise. It is their legacy about to be realized through Martin's Angel.
"Sir," a man knocks on the large metal office door as he enters, "the countdown is starting."
"Good!" Martin swings his body around, the lab coat which he wears furls out from his body. This makes his movements more dramatic. "How long?"
"When it started it was at 12 hours," the man says. "Then after the chronometer reaches 0, we can celebrate. Are you sure that..."
"Oh, yes I am sure that we will make it past the 0 mark." Martin says with a triumphant laugh. "That after the countdown we can all rest as ease. My family's wronged past will be rewritten and you and I can gain the benefits! What was the input and output ratio?"
"1000 Leumer of Input to every 1 Leumer of Output." The man says gravely, but then a black badge attached by a metal clip to the man's lapel makes a crackling noise. The man looks toward his shoulder in the location of the black badge. The black badge is connected to a spiraled wire which connects to a box which is strapped to the man's back.
"This is unit watch A-345 reporting in for the half hour recordings," A garbled voice is produced through the black badge. "The reverse chronograph reads at 11 hours and 30 minutes. Instruments indicate 968 Leumer of Input to 5 Leumer of Output."
"That seems to be on time," Martin muses to himself and he looks at his own chronometer. A few calculations in his own head confirm and he nods.
"This is Dr. Corbin," says the man with the badge on. Dr. Cordin presses a button which is stuck on the side of the badge. The crackling noise stops as he keeps the button held down. "Dr. Liecks reports that is sounds fine. Continue."
"Unit Watch A-345 is signing out." The badge blurts out and then with a click the voice and the static stops.
"Leave me, Dr. Cordin." Dr. Liecks says with a wave of his hand. "I want to watch this machine myself. It has been my life's work to build this machine. I can spot a problem by just watching the machinery. Unlike these men, I do not need the aide of scales, thermometers, or gages to see something happening."
Dr. Cordin nods and leaves from Dr. Liecks sight. Dr. Liecks swings his body and walks toward the wall. He looks up and smiles as he sees the glint of glass in the dark corner. The iris lens through the glass focuses on him, and a small ray of invisible light passes over his smiling face. With the goggles, he can see the light pass over him and the experience makes his skin tingle with delight.
"You know I am here, my Angel. You are much like a babe recognizing your own father." He continues to stare into the lens as if he could hear something talking to him. "They don't realize what you are capable of, and in a few hours as we celebrate, you will show them all."
Dr. Liecks starts to laugh madly.
Gmae Play 2-5-2011
Note: This is a representation of what happened in game. This is not a representation of the game system or what happened while the group gathered. Clearly this is a piece of fiction. Furthermore, I (Paul Gerrish) am just the compiler of the story which is being role-played while this game is played. All outcomes are not planned.
Erwin starts to run through the fair grounds away from the Head of Maintenance. Panic leeches into his mind as he reviews the threat that was just uttered, "I will call the Authority." He dashes through the empty streets of the now awakened fairground. He passes by booths with boisterous music, sparkling lights, and empty display booths. The attractions are ultimately ignored as Erwin tries to put some distance between himself and Head of Maintenance.
As he goes down, he notices that several footsteps can be heard behind him. He tries to look behind him to see his pursuers but Erwin ends up stumbling and falling. The footsteps catch up to Erwin and he can clearly see those who are chasing him; the Authority and some oddly dressed men. The other men, as Erwin remembers from seeing in newspaper clippings, are Teresing guards. Teresing guards wear red shirts with black trousers with white trim. Their unusual shirts have a high neck line, shoulder straps, and are buttoned up with large black decorative buttons. They also wear black kapi caps. Their boots, unlike the authority, are stern looking boots with metal shin guards. Both the men, despite not wearing masks, look incredibly similar even down to their thick handlebar mustaches.
Erwin tries to get up but as if he is in drunken stupor, he falls down again. The guards get even closer and out of panic Erwin rolls out of sight into a nearby alley. The guards stop and look confused but easily spot Erwin and start to chase him again. Erwin starts to run and finally looses the men after a few more swift turns. He can hear their footsteps go past him as he hides behind a stack of crates.
Erwin stops hiding after he clearly knows his pursuers have stopped chasing him and looks for the Larsmark building. After what seems like only a few seconds he stumbles into the replica of the Lars-Market. In the back Tarlister and Vance are still poking different inventions and look as if they have not noticed, or cared, that Erwin has left.
After a few moments of waiting Tarlister turns around, "Oh, there you are my boy! Did you see anything extraordinary while you were out there?"
"It looks as though that most of the fairgrounds is automated," Erwin says as he gets closer to the duo.
Tarlister shakes his head, "Oh yes, I heard something about that. In the center of this fairground there is something which I understand to be called a ULPIM. Have you ever heard of a PIM device at all?"
Erwin thinks, "Never heard of such a thing in my life."
"Well my boy," Tarlister thinks for a moment. "A PIM is a highly theoretical engine. In fact the only one I have known is on a piece of paper in math formula. But apparently, they have one on these very grounds. PIM stands for Parallel Inversion Motor."
Erwin stops in his track and is amazed that there are things in the world of steam power and horology that he hasn't even heard of.
"This motor is strange in nature," continues Tarlister as he gets a smile on his face as if he talking about his favorite dessert. "If they got it right, then the more the motor runs, then the less energy it will take in. Likewise, the less energy it takes in the more energy it can output. So, once running at full capacity the output is one billion times more than the input of energy needed. Though, I have some worries."
"Why is that?" Erwin asks in with some alarm. The more Erwin thinks about it, he has heard of a machine like this. A REIME, or Reversed Entropy Impulse Multiplier Engine, is what some call the greatest idea for energy. It was first dreamed up by a scientist in North Crow named Johan Lieck. Dr. Lieck made a series of theoretical math formulas but when to get them reviewed by his peers the majority of them went mad after reading it. After hearing of this, many publishers barred Dr. Lieck from publishing. 20 years after Dr. Liecks' death a publishing company, Ferson and Tubs, dared to publish the formula and theoretical data which became known as "Dr. Liecks's Curse." But they published it in 10 volumes with each volume containing a disclaimer for the reader's mental health. Also, in between each mathematical proof they put a picture of a scantily-clad woman. Not only was this version easier to read, but was approved by the mainly male scientific community. In more modern times, the Ferson and Tubs publication is seen as gaudy and a disgrace to the seriousness and gravity of this important formula.
"All the experiments tried in the physical world that I know of have met with a cataclysmic end." Tarlister looks gravely toward the center of the fairgrounds. "Either this is a hoax or a time bomb."
After a few moments of grim silence Tarlister starts packing up. Erwin starts to help.
"I am sure that is what they have." Tarlister says as he puts some tools away in a bag, "But they are calling it a ULPIM. I am not sure what the U or the L stands for. Though, it would have made more sense to call it a REIME since that is what they call it in this area."
"I don't know anything which is abbreviated UL," Erwin thinks about it.
Vance finally speaks and his accent is thick "I have heard it stands for Unlimited Learning."
Tarlister looks at Vance, "Rumors. I don't know what such arrogance a man can have to think that a simple motor can learn."
They pack the tools and other things into Tarlister's car. Erwin starts to think about the ULPIM. "If this device," Erwin thinks to himself and he starts to calculate in his head, "is running this whole fair ground and this fair ground is about the size of a small village then this machine should be fairly big for a engine. And if this engine explodes while here," the numbers start to fly through his head as he calculates, "then nothing is safe in a 110 length diameter of the fairgrounds."
The realization of this hits Erwin like a large stone. Fear starts to conquer his mind that even the memory of a date with a woman blows out of it.
They all get into the car and start driving back into Ranstoc. Tarlister twirls his can in his hand and starts to muse.
"I am glad that these World Fairs are going on." He smiles and sighs, "And think when I was a little lad half of these nations did not get along and would rather be pointing weapons at each other. From what I hear though, if one dignitary dies while attending the fair it could plummet us back into that stark reality I grew up with. Just one death, and there could be a worse explosion then what could happen at the World Fair."
Erwin laughs nervously at the comment, "But if all the important people are at the World Fair..."
"I wouldn't want to think about it," Tarlister grimaces at the thought. "If anything disastrous happens it will have dire consequences. Right now, each nation has their own angel to worry about; hopefully none of them turn out to be devils. So, I recommend to keep an eye out."
The rest of the car ride is silent. They drop Erwin off in front of his shop. The wind blows slightly from the west and he is left there with his thoughts. As he looks at the time, he remembers the name... Ethel. Suddenly the realization that he needs to be somewhere in the morning clobbers him in the head. He starts caring that he looks quite the mess. It has been a while since he has cleaned himself up for a date.
He goes inside and goes to the rooms above the shop. He looks around his closet, which seems emptier ever since his wife left him years ago. He digs out his nice suit, which fortunately is still in fashion. It is one he wears when he needs to impress a new costumer in the field, which has been a while too.
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Evelyn goes outside of the shop where she just purchased her new skirt. The night is coming ever faster and all the lamps which line the streets glow and hum with light. She looks about; her wolf is patiently waiting outside for her which isn't a surprised to her, there are people going home or to the local waterholes, and then she notices a young man talking to a young woman. Nothing strikes her odd about the young man because he looks like most Hepian people but something strikes her odd about him. She gets closer to the man and notices that he has the Cizinec symbol on him of a Traveling Blacksmith. She looks at the man's face but doesn't recognize him at all.
Evelyn figures that since it is night and the guy looks more interested in the woman than selling her anything, that she would go back to the Pruchag. She jumps on her wolf and rides through the night and crowds to the building. She dismounts and sees another woman there who Evelyn can tell is both Cizinec and a Mercenary. Evelyn can clearly see that this woman does not hide the fact she is a Mercenary, so she must be a professional. Guns, knives, and chains hug closely to the woman's body.
The woman is tall, has an athletic build, and is skinny. She is 25 but can be mistaken for much younger. The woman wears a scarf over the lower part of her face so only the bridge of her nose and her eyes are showing, but if one looks closely they can see she has burns on her cheeks.
Evelyn stops in her tracks as he recognizes the woman's piercing eyes. The mercenary's name is Zabel Thunderwalk. Zabel has been a mercenary for as long as Evelyn and they have met many times in the past competing for the same job.
Zabel, who is not too far away, stops in her tracks. The piercing eyes of the woman moves toward Evelyn's face and stop. She immediately walks toward Evelyn; Evelyn slides her hand toward a gun to her side. Zabel does the very same.
"Hello Evelyn," Zabel says with a snarl, "what are you doing this hour?"
"Running around," Evelyn says as she matches the tone. The wind slightly blows in from the ocean which ripples Evelyn skirt and ruffles the free end of the scarf around Zabel's face. "What about you?"
"The same," Zabel says as she takes a small step to the right, Evelyn matches the movement but to the left. Soon they are circling slowly around each other as if there is a pillar in the way.
"I have been doing some soul searching since the last time we met," Zabel says as she takes a step closer.
Evelyn careful matches Zabels movement and tries to remember the last time they met. Her mind is so focus on Zabel in front of her now, that the past seems too distant.
"Do you even remember?" Growls Zabel.
"No," Evelyn admits to some embarrassment, "I can't recall."
Zabel thrusts down her scarf with her free hand. Her face is badly burned from her cheeks down and looks as though someone had cut her mouth so it spans her face in a sadistic twisted smile. "Do you remember what you did to my face the last time we met?"
Evelyn would have stopped in her tracks but couldn't. Her eyes focus on the disfigured face. Her mind races to what happened the last time they met. "What had happen," she starts to ask herself, "was this really my doing?"
Zabel gets closer and her voice is a hissing snarl, "Don't you remember the burning building? Remember leaving me unconscious?"
Evelyn stops in her tracks and stares at Zabel. Zabel takes the opportunity to move in and gets Evelyn into a head lock. She squeezes Evenlyn's neck just enough she can control her but so Evelyn can breathe. She then sets a cold steal gun barrel on Evenlyn's temple.
"Listen," hisses Zabel as she over powers Evelyn, who is making good effort to struggle out of the head lock, "I have been doing lots of searching. And guess what, I found something very interesting out in Gallvarg."
Evelyn stops struggling and her eyes open widely. In the back of her mind she swears.
"Let's just put it this way," Zabel says as she pushes the gun barrel harder into her temple. "I am not only here for the World's Fair."
Zable pushes Evelyn to the ground. Evelyn sits there for a moment as her mind races to piece everything together. As she catches her breath Evelyn manages to say, "What did you find out?"
Zabel's response is only laughter as she walks away. She walks around the corner and disappears.
Only the wind makes noise as Evelyn thinks back but then down the street Evelyn hears something come. She can clearly see a colorful, noisy, and loud group of people running down the streets as if they were running for their lives. The dance troupe of Yusel Roba looks like stampeding animals that someone decorated for a parade. The musicians with the instruments on their backs are especially noisy and strange sounding because each of their steps seems like a song waiting to start. Evelyn jumps up, leans against a wall, and watches them all scramble up the metal fire escape and into the Pruchag.
She waits for a moment to see if anyone is follow them, but no one is. She shrugs and goes in though the entrance. She goes through the hallways and goes up into the common area. There left in the room are not many people, the dance troupe are all in one area talking amongst themselves. They look worried, tired, and out of breath. They start to count heads to make sure everyone has made it back. Someone exclaims how many they are missing, but Evelyn takes no notice of that and goes toward the elder. Unfortunately the elder is no where to be found. Though, one of the elder's sons is around; he is a tall and strapping man with long hair and has a glare which only seems cruel with his dark grey eyes. He would be more handsome if he didn't have a few scars on his face. He looks a man who have been in many fights and taken his share of blows.
"What do you know about this dance troupe," Evelyn says as she puts a little sway into her hips hoping being flirtatious would help get her way.
"They're very foreign," The man says with a scoffing laugh. "There's this country. I forget the name. It is something like Arbors or Alligator. Though, that's really not important, the important thing is that they've been threatening this poor man. Also, they have been trying to force their way into the Pruchags."
Evelyn shakes her head, "How idiotic."
"Yeah," the man says with another scoffing laugh. "I like to think of myself as the head of security so I know what has been going on."
"How have you been keeping them out?" Evelyn bats her eyes and tries to act very interested.
"Since you got in, you that the window is the entrance." He says with a smile. "Let's just say they haven't learned the obvious route is the worst one to take."
"It sounds like they're not going to be smart enough to do much harm to him then." She says with a small laugh.
"They also have a contract on his head," he says as he leans against the wall trying to get closer to her. "We've been on the look out for mercenary types, especially foreigners."
"Oh?" Evelyn says as she acts surprised and innocent. "Have you found any yet?"
"Well, there's you," He says with a large charming smile, "And a woman a little earlier with a scarf over her mouth. But no foreigners."
"Has the other Pruchags have had a problem with foreigners?"
"Well, we all are. But foreigner mercenaries looking for Yusel, yeah loads of them. It seems no one really knows where to look for him. Then again, we don't advertise fully we're a Pruchag."
"Oh my," she says with some genuine shock, "from where?"
"From a lot of countries I have never heard of." He shrugs his shoulders, "But there are the usual Hepian mercenaries, the Teresing ones. Then of course, the Negustor..."
She laughs at Negustor Mercenaries. Negustorians religious practices strictly forbid them to resort to violence. Instead they allow their god to rein misery on their foes. That is until long ago when the Cizinec split into their original clans and the Dasba came south to Negustor. Then the Negustor relied on the Dasba. After that point, the Dasba became well known and feared as trained mercenaries and assassins throughout the southern region and in the Cizinec community.
She watches the dance troupe, and a woman who is fairly large is chatting up Yusel Roba. Evelyn where she stands can't hear what they are saying but she can tell that woman wants to join the dance troupe and perhaps do a little more than dance. Yusel looks sternly at her and says something, which the woman takes badly and runs off. Evelyn shakes her head and looks at the son of the Elder, "I think I'll spend the night here."
"There's a room on the second floor with an unused mattress. I'll guide you down if you wish."
Before Evelyn could say anything, a man runs into the room. He immediately comes up to the son of the elder.
"Sir," pants the man who seems he just ran up some stairs. "There's a foreign mercenary here!"
"Where?!" He replies with some shock.
"In the old warehouse. He made it past the traps!"
"What?!"
"Let me take care of it." Evelyn says with a smile. "Consider it my pay for the night."
She walks out of the room and calmly goes down the stairs. She waits at the top of the last set of stairs around the corner and draws her weapon in wait. The door to the old warehouse slowly opens. The door opens fully and there's no one behind the door. Then a tall figure pops into the frame after a moment with a gun drawn. The figure looks up and slowly goes up the stairs. He sees the shadow of Evelyn.
"You better come out of I will be forced to attack you." He says calmly.
"What are you doing here?" Evelyn says as she caresses the trigger softly in wait.
"I am looking for my dear poor lost little pussy cat." The man says with an obvious smirk on his face.
Evelyn laughs to herself and feels calmer. She finds her less threatened. "Come on, why are you here?"
He goes up the stairs and he is holding his hand up, "I am here for a government. There's a dance leader I need to protect."
"Oh," she says a slight cringe, "They're upstairs."
He puts away his gun, but she still has her drawn just in case. They go up the stairs with Evelyn giving directions every step of the way.
"You Cizinec are pretty smart." He says as he looks behind toward Evelyn. "I admire your cunning over the years, despite being a slight nuisance in some foreign lands."
"Yeah," she says with a small laugh, "we aim to meddle."
The man laughs and continues up the stairs. "I am Ezekeal, and what's your name?"
"Evelyn." She says politely. Though, Ezekeal didn't need to know her name since he recognized her.
Ezekeal creeps up the stairs cautiously trying to appear that his hand isn't near a gun. Evelyn watches him, trying to think what she could do. Her mind is fully focused on how to get rid of this man. She still has a job to do and the money would be nice.
They continue through the hallways. Ezekeal observes all the symbols and markings that are on the doors through the hallways. He looks back at Evelyn quickly, "So where would Yusel Roba, the dance troupe leader be?"
"From how you act, I thought you knew where to find people in a Pruchag." Evelyn says with a smirk.
"Just because you know of something, doesn't mean you know it. Ever heard of Tobin?" Ezekeal says as he goes down a hall to a set of stairs.
"Yeah," she says with a questionable tone, "it's a country in the east."
"Then where's the best bakery in Tobin?" Ezekeal smirks as he knew Evelyn didn't have the answer.
Evelyn points the way and Ezekeal follows. She stays behind him all the way, thinking she could possibly blame this foreigner for the murder of Yusel Roba. She follows him closely up the stairs to the door of the commons area, which is closed. He looks back at Evelyn and she nods. They continue up the stairs, he goes through the door, and then closes it right behind him. She did not expect he would close the door in front of her face.
"By the goddess..." She says under her breath. "This is going to be harder than I thought."
She waits for a moment just as she hears some commotion. Her hopes are up, but the commotion and argument stops with no cataclysmic firing of guns or blood curdling screams. She sighs again, her hopes that this man would at least die fades. She goes through the door to check out what is going on. Evelyn can see that Ezekeal has a piece of paper in his hand and is showing it to Yusel Roba. Evelyn recognizes it as an official government mercenary job.
She slinks toward the background as Ezekeal and Yusel talk. She cannot hear the words but watches the body language. Though, after Yusel throws his arms around Ezekeal in a warm friendly hug. She shakes her head, and observes more interaction between Ezekeal and Yusel for the rest of the night.
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Odile, Georgie, and Bruno continue to stand in the Lighthouse Bar. The local life is seeping into the bar as tourists, the common Hepian worker, sailors, and prostitutes start enjoying their drinks. Georgie watches Odile very closely, as he has since she got her spiked drink. Odile starts to feel awfully drunk and dizzy, which she finds strange since she has had only one drink.
After successfully drugging Odile, Georgie looks around to see if anyone notices his deed and to see if he needs to flee the scene. No one is paying attention to what is going on by the bar. Everyone is laughing, starting to sign, playing cards, and others are too busy with fleshly business that a large animal could jump in and they still would not notice. But Georgie does notice three large men who just stumbled through the doors of the bar. They come closer, and Georgie recognize them as the Solopian.
Georgie makes a sound of displeasure and thinks for a moment. "Well, we better be going. I think our lady friend has had a little too much to drink."
"I agree," Bruno says politely as he watches Odile wobble in her chair.
"And those men," Georgie says as he points toward the three men wearing furs, "they aren't on very good terms with me."
"Oh," Bruno says as he looks toward the three large men.
"It would be nice if we could avoid them."
"Okay," Bruno says as he gets up. "We have plenty to do before the sun rises. But what about our lady friend?"
"I don't want to leave her alone here," Georgie says with some compassion. The thought of her getting taken advantage seems a little too extreme for his style of revenge.
"We could get her a room." Suggests Bruno with a kind smile as if he is looking over a child trying to keep from falling asleep. He feels bad for her despite her being filthy.
"I think you had a little too much to drink," Georgie says directly to Odile. "Do you have money that we can have?"
Odile wobbles and tries to communicate something. Her moaning and gibberish communicates that she doesn't want to spend money.
As this happens, the three men start to point toward Georgie. Georgie glances over there to see them get up and through the crowd he hears, "Eat Olum grabber!"
"Okay, whatever we're doing we need to leave now!" Georgie says with some concern.
Bruno nods and picks up Odile without much struggle. The group of Solopian gets closer and Georgie ducks behind Bruno's large frame. Though the men still notice Georgie and start to shout, "Little man is bad! Little man is liar! Little man hands mince into pie!"
"It was only a minor misunderstanding," Georgie says to Bruno. "They have no idea what I was telling them at the time! They somehow think I am trying to swindle them!"
"Look there seems to be some kind of misunderstanding," Bruno says as he shifts the almost unconscious prostitute's weight fully on his shoulder. "This man is very nice and he has been helping me a lot. I am sure we can come to reason about the whole thing."
"You friend?!" Shouts one of them.
"Well, we are more than just acquaintances." Bruno reasons to not only them but to himself. "We spent the majority day together. And he has been very trusting..."
"YOU HAND NAILS WILL BE IN SAUSAGE!" Another one of them shouts. The room is becoming very quiet at this point.
"I don't appreciate that language!" Bruno shouts back.
Silence falls between the men and they stare at each other. Then from the crowd of on lookers someone shouts, "BRUNO! You're a real winner! Punch this guy's face in!"
"Show these foreigners something!" Screams another, who apparently is a woman.
"Show what a man of the goddess can really do!"
"Bruno you're my dream man!" Shouts another in a sultry voice.
Bruno looks around; he can feel the energy of the room. His eyes narrow and he says in a deep low many voice, "Take this."
He takes Odile, as if she was just a bag of potatoes, and thrusts her toward Georgie.
"Hey wait I can't..." Georgie says as he finds Odile in his arms. Georgie falls under the weight of Odile. Georgie though doesn't panic but takes the opportunity to look for some extra money. Despite feeling her up, he finds no money. Bruno luckily realizes that Georgie is being crushed. Bruno quickly picks Odile off of Georgie and props her against the bar counter.
"So what will it be?" Bruno says with a growl.
"If you fight, you fight fighter!" Says the eldest man.
"I accept!" Bruno says as he tears what is left of his nice shirt off. The crowd roars with cheers at the spectacle. Georgie smiles and backs off to let them have room.
The fighter, Vegal Prustic, comes and looks at Bruno. He also takes off his shirt, but doesn't rip it off. Vegal gets the first punch in, and the crowd roars. They exchange punches, and the crowd reacts with each and every punch, dodge, and swing. Bruno starts to find his footing and gets two good combo punches. Vegal starts to stagger a little as blood starts to ooze from his face. Georgie cheers and starts to rile the crowd. A chant of "For Goddess and Empire," starts to flow through the crowd and people start to clap their hands. More punches are exchanged between the two. Vegal starts to stagger and starts to swing wildly. Bruno takes the chance and hits his opponent five times in a row. Vegal slams to the ground. With the thud there is a dead silence and then the crowd cheers at the top of their lungs.
Bruno lifts his arms up in success. The other Solopians are shocked and pick up their fighter. They start to shout at Bruno as they leave but their curses and threats are not heard over the crowd.
Odile finally fully gives into the drug and slides toward the ground. She lands in the blood of the Solopian fighter who was just removed. Georgie and Bruno look her way in worry and disgust.
"Perhaps we should move her," Bruno suggests.
"Ew," Georgie says with a wince. "I agree."
Bruno in desperation tries to pat her face down with what is left of his tattered shirt.
"Would you like some help?" Georgie says as he kneels down next to Bruno.
"She probably has some money on her." Georgie says pleasantly to Bruno. "Because she will be such a wretched looking thing and it would be nice to give the church something for taking her in."
"That makes sense," Bruno says with a nod. "I could pay for it."
Bruno starts to wipe Odile's face, but the sweaty tattered garment only smears the blood and put some extra dirt on her once glowing complexion. Odile looks even worse and more corpse like.
"Let me use my hanker chief," Georgie says as he take out a handkerchief and he feels for money again but cannot feel anything through the skin tight dress.
"Let's go, but don't forget my box," Bruno says. He is about to pick up Odile from the ground, as he slightly lifts her, he drops her back into the pool of blood as he comes to realize something. "My chicken! Where's my chicken!?"
"What?" Georgie pauses for a moment as he had forgotten about their chicken.
"The Flute! We need the flute!" Bruno says as he desperately tries to find the pocket in which he has stuck it in. He finds the chicken flute in his pants pocket and is relieved to see it not broken. He blows in it a couple of times and finally produces a noise which makes the large chicken respond. Bruno looks around and sees his chicken come to him.
"We should put a leash on it." Georgie says as he rolls his eyes.
"Georgie, take my box," Bruno says as he grabs Odile. "Come on, to my moto!"
They come out and look at all the passengers and the amount of room. They finally settle with having the box on the floor of the sidecar. Next they set Odile in the side car with her feet on the box. Then they tie the chicken with what is left of Bruno's shirt to Odile's leg. Bruno gets on his motorcycle with Georgie behind him holding onto Bruno's massive torso.
Bruno starts the motorcycle and goes down the street. They travel through the city with out being spotted or stopped by the Authority, which is a miracle. Though, with so many tourists running about, the Authority themselves are running thin.
The church stands tall, looming in the moonlight as if it is guarding the large cemetery right behind it. The windows are fully lit, and several people go in and out of the large ornate door. Each time the door swings open the smell of malt, barely, hops, and cooking molasses collide into passerby's nose.
At the huge doors, Bruno starts to become concerned about his appearance. Bruno looks at his reflection and bites his lip.
"How do I look?" Bruno says as if he has an image to hold up at church.
This question strikes Georgie as a little odd since when he met Bruno, he was already a little shabby looking. "Well, how do I put this gently? You need to bathe, shave, and wrap up those torn up knuckles."
"Oh, really..." Bruno didn't realize he was all that bad.
They look around for a source of water which Bruno could wash himself off with. In the distance they see a grave stone which is in a shape of a shallow basin, a popular motif a few hundreds years back. They tend to be used as birdbaths by the local aves.
"That looks great!" Georgie says as he starts in that direction.
Bruno looks and shakes his head, "That would be bad and lowly."
They start to brainstorm how to get around Bruno's untidy situation.
"Listen, all we have to do is rely on the truth!" Georgie says as he smiles at Bruno.
"But I would look horrible in front of the Cocoen! What would she think of me?" Bruno starts to get a little too distressed.
"Listen," Georgie says as he tries to put his arm around Bruno. "You were in a fight in a friend's honor, that's very good right?"
"Yeah..."
"And now you are helping this poor defenseless... woman, or lack of a better word. You are making sure she has safe housing for the night. Isn't that grand in itself?"
"Right..."
"So, having gone through all these troubles you would look a little wretched." Georgie says giving Bruno a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"Yeah," Bruno starts to feel a little more confident. "That's exactly right! But I still think I will let you do the talking."
They go through the large doors which creek a little too loud to not gain attention. Some churchgoers are in the pews and kneeling but look up from their prayers. The sight of Bruno carrying the messy and passed out Odile starts to cause a commotion. Georgie tries to assure some people who are leaving that everything is okay, but they are ignored. As they go toward the front to the Cocoen, more people start to panic. Bruno stands strong as he carries the unconscious, blood-soaked, prostitute down the isle.
"WE WERE ATTACKED!" Bruno finally shouts.
People stop their panicking for a moment as Bruno, who is a well respected and loved member of their church community, is recognized. Most go on with their prayers and think nothing of the sight. As the crowd finally simmers down, the Cocoen approaches and looks at the trio.
"You need to take this woman. There is something terribly wrong with her!" Georgie says.
The Cocoen nods and motions for Bruno to put Odile down. Bruno does as he is told, and lays Odile down on the bench and the Cocoen approaches the unconscious prostitute. The Cocoen looks down with a kind matriarchic look as sits nears Odile's head and then props Odile's Head on her lap. Then swiftly, the Cocoen raises her hand and smacks Odile on the cheek. The sound of the slap reverberates through the church. Odile wakes up just enough to be hauled off by the church's helper. They parade her to the back where the small hospital is.
Goergie catches up to Odile and smiles, "Oh my, I am glad you are awake. There was a horrible fight where you became unconscious. It was my idea to take you here for the night because I never want to see a dear friend so defenseless. I think you owe me a favor."
"That's too bad," Odile says as she is being taken away, "I have no money!"
"Okay," Georgie says as he tries to not to grimace since he know she must have money on her. "See you around!"
"Oh, come on, let's get my alcohol." Bruno says as he grabs Georgie by the shoulder. He then approaches the Cocoen again, "Tell me, your fairness, what alcohol do you have?"
The Cocoen leads them to an altar of the goddess Galau which is surrounded by bottles which are filled with all sorts of drinks. "We have wine, we have spirits, and we have pure alcohol."
"Oh," Bruno says in delight, "Do you know what is best for a Disobian woman?"
"Why yes," she says with a smile. "They are not a goddess fearing country like our holy empire, so their drinks are not made to the purity or standards as our goddess has instructed. I am sure you can impress her both body and soul by showing her the true might of Galau by giving her a nice, dark, smooth brandy."
She takes out a bottle which contains the dark liquid. On the bottle has an etched picture of a flying duck in a circle. The bottle is hand blown and a strange scent, but is claimed to enhance the flavor of the drink while being poured.
Bruno's eyes reflect the glimmering light which shines from the glassy surface, "I'll take it!"
"WAIT!" Georgie says as he steps in and nudges Bruno.
"Oh," Bruno blinks and thinks for a moment. "How much is it?"
"I know that you are a goddess fearing man," the Cocoen says calmly. "And one of our more famous and popular attendees. For you, it will be 700 Pres."
"That's a little steep," Georgie as he pushes the bottle a little further away from Bruno. "I am pretty sure, Bruno, we could get this at any other church. If you really want to be loyal to this church I think they should take your budget into consideration."
"But both of you love the goddess don't you?" The Cocoen says with a slight scowl.
"But she can love as just as well at another church." Georgie narrows his eyes slightly but smiles a roguish smile.
"Fine," She says finally giving in to the demands of Georgie. "I will give you an unmarked bottle for 500 Pres."
Bruno looks at Georgie and Georgie nods back. Bruno takes out his money and they exchange good. They leave the church.
Bruno looks at his motorcycle and looks at Georgie. "Are we going separate ways?"
"Well, I could come to your place and make sure you are ready for your big day." Georgie says with his award winning smile.
"I do owe you for being a big help today." Bruno thinks for a moment, "And it would be easier to find you to hand you the rest of your money tomorrow."
"Well, if that's an invitation to stay at your place, I will take it." Georgie says with some hope of scoring some more money legal or illegally.
"You could stay in my maids' courters." Bruno says as he motions toward the motorcycle and Georgie gets into the sidecar.
Erwin starts to run through the fair grounds away from the Head of Maintenance. Panic leeches into his mind as he reviews the threat that was just uttered, "I will call the Authority." He dashes through the empty streets of the now awakened fairground. He passes by booths with boisterous music, sparkling lights, and empty display booths. The attractions are ultimately ignored as Erwin tries to put some distance between himself and Head of Maintenance.
As he goes down, he notices that several footsteps can be heard behind him. He tries to look behind him to see his pursuers but Erwin ends up stumbling and falling. The footsteps catch up to Erwin and he can clearly see those who are chasing him; the Authority and some oddly dressed men. The other men, as Erwin remembers from seeing in newspaper clippings, are Teresing guards. Teresing guards wear red shirts with black trousers with white trim. Their unusual shirts have a high neck line, shoulder straps, and are buttoned up with large black decorative buttons. They also wear black kapi caps. Their boots, unlike the authority, are stern looking boots with metal shin guards. Both the men, despite not wearing masks, look incredibly similar even down to their thick handlebar mustaches.
Erwin tries to get up but as if he is in drunken stupor, he falls down again. The guards get even closer and out of panic Erwin rolls out of sight into a nearby alley. The guards stop and look confused but easily spot Erwin and start to chase him again. Erwin starts to run and finally looses the men after a few more swift turns. He can hear their footsteps go past him as he hides behind a stack of crates.
Erwin stops hiding after he clearly knows his pursuers have stopped chasing him and looks for the Larsmark building. After what seems like only a few seconds he stumbles into the replica of the Lars-Market. In the back Tarlister and Vance are still poking different inventions and look as if they have not noticed, or cared, that Erwin has left.
After a few moments of waiting Tarlister turns around, "Oh, there you are my boy! Did you see anything extraordinary while you were out there?"
"It looks as though that most of the fairgrounds is automated," Erwin says as he gets closer to the duo.
Tarlister shakes his head, "Oh yes, I heard something about that. In the center of this fairground there is something which I understand to be called a ULPIM. Have you ever heard of a PIM device at all?"
Erwin thinks, "Never heard of such a thing in my life."
"Well my boy," Tarlister thinks for a moment. "A PIM is a highly theoretical engine. In fact the only one I have known is on a piece of paper in math formula. But apparently, they have one on these very grounds. PIM stands for Parallel Inversion Motor."
Erwin stops in his track and is amazed that there are things in the world of steam power and horology that he hasn't even heard of.
"This motor is strange in nature," continues Tarlister as he gets a smile on his face as if he talking about his favorite dessert. "If they got it right, then the more the motor runs, then the less energy it will take in. Likewise, the less energy it takes in the more energy it can output. So, once running at full capacity the output is one billion times more than the input of energy needed. Though, I have some worries."
"Why is that?" Erwin asks in with some alarm. The more Erwin thinks about it, he has heard of a machine like this. A REIME, or Reversed Entropy Impulse Multiplier Engine, is what some call the greatest idea for energy. It was first dreamed up by a scientist in North Crow named Johan Lieck. Dr. Lieck made a series of theoretical math formulas but when to get them reviewed by his peers the majority of them went mad after reading it. After hearing of this, many publishers barred Dr. Lieck from publishing. 20 years after Dr. Liecks' death a publishing company, Ferson and Tubs, dared to publish the formula and theoretical data which became known as "Dr. Liecks's Curse." But they published it in 10 volumes with each volume containing a disclaimer for the reader's mental health. Also, in between each mathematical proof they put a picture of a scantily-clad woman. Not only was this version easier to read, but was approved by the mainly male scientific community. In more modern times, the Ferson and Tubs publication is seen as gaudy and a disgrace to the seriousness and gravity of this important formula.
"All the experiments tried in the physical world that I know of have met with a cataclysmic end." Tarlister looks gravely toward the center of the fairgrounds. "Either this is a hoax or a time bomb."
After a few moments of grim silence Tarlister starts packing up. Erwin starts to help.
"I am sure that is what they have." Tarlister says as he puts some tools away in a bag, "But they are calling it a ULPIM. I am not sure what the U or the L stands for. Though, it would have made more sense to call it a REIME since that is what they call it in this area."
"I don't know anything which is abbreviated UL," Erwin thinks about it.
Vance finally speaks and his accent is thick "I have heard it stands for Unlimited Learning."
Tarlister looks at Vance, "Rumors. I don't know what such arrogance a man can have to think that a simple motor can learn."
They pack the tools and other things into Tarlister's car. Erwin starts to think about the ULPIM. "If this device," Erwin thinks to himself and he starts to calculate in his head, "is running this whole fair ground and this fair ground is about the size of a small village then this machine should be fairly big for a engine. And if this engine explodes while here," the numbers start to fly through his head as he calculates, "then nothing is safe in a 110 length diameter of the fairgrounds."
The realization of this hits Erwin like a large stone. Fear starts to conquer his mind that even the memory of a date with a woman blows out of it.
They all get into the car and start driving back into Ranstoc. Tarlister twirls his can in his hand and starts to muse.
"I am glad that these World Fairs are going on." He smiles and sighs, "And think when I was a little lad half of these nations did not get along and would rather be pointing weapons at each other. From what I hear though, if one dignitary dies while attending the fair it could plummet us back into that stark reality I grew up with. Just one death, and there could be a worse explosion then what could happen at the World Fair."
Erwin laughs nervously at the comment, "But if all the important people are at the World Fair..."
"I wouldn't want to think about it," Tarlister grimaces at the thought. "If anything disastrous happens it will have dire consequences. Right now, each nation has their own angel to worry about; hopefully none of them turn out to be devils. So, I recommend to keep an eye out."
The rest of the car ride is silent. They drop Erwin off in front of his shop. The wind blows slightly from the west and he is left there with his thoughts. As he looks at the time, he remembers the name... Ethel. Suddenly the realization that he needs to be somewhere in the morning clobbers him in the head. He starts caring that he looks quite the mess. It has been a while since he has cleaned himself up for a date.
He goes inside and goes to the rooms above the shop. He looks around his closet, which seems emptier ever since his wife left him years ago. He digs out his nice suit, which fortunately is still in fashion. It is one he wears when he needs to impress a new costumer in the field, which has been a while too.
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Evelyn goes outside of the shop where she just purchased her new skirt. The night is coming ever faster and all the lamps which line the streets glow and hum with light. She looks about; her wolf is patiently waiting outside for her which isn't a surprised to her, there are people going home or to the local waterholes, and then she notices a young man talking to a young woman. Nothing strikes her odd about the young man because he looks like most Hepian people but something strikes her odd about him. She gets closer to the man and notices that he has the Cizinec symbol on him of a Traveling Blacksmith. She looks at the man's face but doesn't recognize him at all.
Evelyn figures that since it is night and the guy looks more interested in the woman than selling her anything, that she would go back to the Pruchag. She jumps on her wolf and rides through the night and crowds to the building. She dismounts and sees another woman there who Evelyn can tell is both Cizinec and a Mercenary. Evelyn can clearly see that this woman does not hide the fact she is a Mercenary, so she must be a professional. Guns, knives, and chains hug closely to the woman's body.
The woman is tall, has an athletic build, and is skinny. She is 25 but can be mistaken for much younger. The woman wears a scarf over the lower part of her face so only the bridge of her nose and her eyes are showing, but if one looks closely they can see she has burns on her cheeks.
Evelyn stops in her tracks as he recognizes the woman's piercing eyes. The mercenary's name is Zabel Thunderwalk. Zabel has been a mercenary for as long as Evelyn and they have met many times in the past competing for the same job.
Zabel, who is not too far away, stops in her tracks. The piercing eyes of the woman moves toward Evelyn's face and stop. She immediately walks toward Evelyn; Evelyn slides her hand toward a gun to her side. Zabel does the very same.
"Hello Evelyn," Zabel says with a snarl, "what are you doing this hour?"
"Running around," Evelyn says as she matches the tone. The wind slightly blows in from the ocean which ripples Evelyn skirt and ruffles the free end of the scarf around Zabel's face. "What about you?"
"The same," Zabel says as she takes a small step to the right, Evelyn matches the movement but to the left. Soon they are circling slowly around each other as if there is a pillar in the way.
"I have been doing some soul searching since the last time we met," Zabel says as she takes a step closer.
Evelyn careful matches Zabels movement and tries to remember the last time they met. Her mind is so focus on Zabel in front of her now, that the past seems too distant.
"Do you even remember?" Growls Zabel.
"No," Evelyn admits to some embarrassment, "I can't recall."
Zabel thrusts down her scarf with her free hand. Her face is badly burned from her cheeks down and looks as though someone had cut her mouth so it spans her face in a sadistic twisted smile. "Do you remember what you did to my face the last time we met?"
Evelyn would have stopped in her tracks but couldn't. Her eyes focus on the disfigured face. Her mind races to what happened the last time they met. "What had happen," she starts to ask herself, "was this really my doing?"
Zabel gets closer and her voice is a hissing snarl, "Don't you remember the burning building? Remember leaving me unconscious?"
Evelyn stops in her tracks and stares at Zabel. Zabel takes the opportunity to move in and gets Evelyn into a head lock. She squeezes Evenlyn's neck just enough she can control her but so Evelyn can breathe. She then sets a cold steal gun barrel on Evenlyn's temple.
"Listen," hisses Zabel as she over powers Evelyn, who is making good effort to struggle out of the head lock, "I have been doing lots of searching. And guess what, I found something very interesting out in Gallvarg."
Evelyn stops struggling and her eyes open widely. In the back of her mind she swears.
"Let's just put it this way," Zabel says as she pushes the gun barrel harder into her temple. "I am not only here for the World's Fair."
Zable pushes Evelyn to the ground. Evelyn sits there for a moment as her mind races to piece everything together. As she catches her breath Evelyn manages to say, "What did you find out?"
Zabel's response is only laughter as she walks away. She walks around the corner and disappears.
Only the wind makes noise as Evelyn thinks back but then down the street Evelyn hears something come. She can clearly see a colorful, noisy, and loud group of people running down the streets as if they were running for their lives. The dance troupe of Yusel Roba looks like stampeding animals that someone decorated for a parade. The musicians with the instruments on their backs are especially noisy and strange sounding because each of their steps seems like a song waiting to start. Evelyn jumps up, leans against a wall, and watches them all scramble up the metal fire escape and into the Pruchag.
She waits for a moment to see if anyone is follow them, but no one is. She shrugs and goes in though the entrance. She goes through the hallways and goes up into the common area. There left in the room are not many people, the dance troupe are all in one area talking amongst themselves. They look worried, tired, and out of breath. They start to count heads to make sure everyone has made it back. Someone exclaims how many they are missing, but Evelyn takes no notice of that and goes toward the elder. Unfortunately the elder is no where to be found. Though, one of the elder's sons is around; he is a tall and strapping man with long hair and has a glare which only seems cruel with his dark grey eyes. He would be more handsome if he didn't have a few scars on his face. He looks a man who have been in many fights and taken his share of blows.
"What do you know about this dance troupe," Evelyn says as she puts a little sway into her hips hoping being flirtatious would help get her way.
"They're very foreign," The man says with a scoffing laugh. "There's this country. I forget the name. It is something like Arbors or Alligator. Though, that's really not important, the important thing is that they've been threatening this poor man. Also, they have been trying to force their way into the Pruchags."
Evelyn shakes her head, "How idiotic."
"Yeah," the man says with another scoffing laugh. "I like to think of myself as the head of security so I know what has been going on."
"How have you been keeping them out?" Evelyn bats her eyes and tries to act very interested.
"Since you got in, you that the window is the entrance." He says with a smile. "Let's just say they haven't learned the obvious route is the worst one to take."
"It sounds like they're not going to be smart enough to do much harm to him then." She says with a small laugh.
"They also have a contract on his head," he says as he leans against the wall trying to get closer to her. "We've been on the look out for mercenary types, especially foreigners."
"Oh?" Evelyn says as she acts surprised and innocent. "Have you found any yet?"
"Well, there's you," He says with a large charming smile, "And a woman a little earlier with a scarf over her mouth. But no foreigners."
"Has the other Pruchags have had a problem with foreigners?"
"Well, we all are. But foreigner mercenaries looking for Yusel, yeah loads of them. It seems no one really knows where to look for him. Then again, we don't advertise fully we're a Pruchag."
"Oh my," she says with some genuine shock, "from where?"
"From a lot of countries I have never heard of." He shrugs his shoulders, "But there are the usual Hepian mercenaries, the Teresing ones. Then of course, the Negustor..."
She laughs at Negustor Mercenaries. Negustorians religious practices strictly forbid them to resort to violence. Instead they allow their god to rein misery on their foes. That is until long ago when the Cizinec split into their original clans and the Dasba came south to Negustor. Then the Negustor relied on the Dasba. After that point, the Dasba became well known and feared as trained mercenaries and assassins throughout the southern region and in the Cizinec community.
She watches the dance troupe, and a woman who is fairly large is chatting up Yusel Roba. Evelyn where she stands can't hear what they are saying but she can tell that woman wants to join the dance troupe and perhaps do a little more than dance. Yusel looks sternly at her and says something, which the woman takes badly and runs off. Evelyn shakes her head and looks at the son of the Elder, "I think I'll spend the night here."
"There's a room on the second floor with an unused mattress. I'll guide you down if you wish."
Before Evelyn could say anything, a man runs into the room. He immediately comes up to the son of the elder.
"Sir," pants the man who seems he just ran up some stairs. "There's a foreign mercenary here!"
"Where?!" He replies with some shock.
"In the old warehouse. He made it past the traps!"
"What?!"
"Let me take care of it." Evelyn says with a smile. "Consider it my pay for the night."
She walks out of the room and calmly goes down the stairs. She waits at the top of the last set of stairs around the corner and draws her weapon in wait. The door to the old warehouse slowly opens. The door opens fully and there's no one behind the door. Then a tall figure pops into the frame after a moment with a gun drawn. The figure looks up and slowly goes up the stairs. He sees the shadow of Evelyn.
"You better come out of I will be forced to attack you." He says calmly.
"What are you doing here?" Evelyn says as she caresses the trigger softly in wait.
"I am looking for my dear poor lost little pussy cat." The man says with an obvious smirk on his face.
Evelyn laughs to herself and feels calmer. She finds her less threatened. "Come on, why are you here?"
He goes up the stairs and he is holding his hand up, "I am here for a government. There's a dance leader I need to protect."
"Oh," she says a slight cringe, "They're upstairs."
He puts away his gun, but she still has her drawn just in case. They go up the stairs with Evelyn giving directions every step of the way.
"You Cizinec are pretty smart." He says as he looks behind toward Evelyn. "I admire your cunning over the years, despite being a slight nuisance in some foreign lands."
"Yeah," she says with a small laugh, "we aim to meddle."
The man laughs and continues up the stairs. "I am Ezekeal, and what's your name?"
"Evelyn." She says politely. Though, Ezekeal didn't need to know her name since he recognized her.
Ezekeal creeps up the stairs cautiously trying to appear that his hand isn't near a gun. Evelyn watches him, trying to think what she could do. Her mind is fully focused on how to get rid of this man. She still has a job to do and the money would be nice.
They continue through the hallways. Ezekeal observes all the symbols and markings that are on the doors through the hallways. He looks back at Evelyn quickly, "So where would Yusel Roba, the dance troupe leader be?"
"From how you act, I thought you knew where to find people in a Pruchag." Evelyn says with a smirk.
"Just because you know of something, doesn't mean you know it. Ever heard of Tobin?" Ezekeal says as he goes down a hall to a set of stairs.
"Yeah," she says with a questionable tone, "it's a country in the east."
"Then where's the best bakery in Tobin?" Ezekeal smirks as he knew Evelyn didn't have the answer.
Evelyn points the way and Ezekeal follows. She stays behind him all the way, thinking she could possibly blame this foreigner for the murder of Yusel Roba. She follows him closely up the stairs to the door of the commons area, which is closed. He looks back at Evelyn and she nods. They continue up the stairs, he goes through the door, and then closes it right behind him. She did not expect he would close the door in front of her face.
"By the goddess..." She says under her breath. "This is going to be harder than I thought."
She waits for a moment just as she hears some commotion. Her hopes are up, but the commotion and argument stops with no cataclysmic firing of guns or blood curdling screams. She sighs again, her hopes that this man would at least die fades. She goes through the door to check out what is going on. Evelyn can see that Ezekeal has a piece of paper in his hand and is showing it to Yusel Roba. Evelyn recognizes it as an official government mercenary job.
She slinks toward the background as Ezekeal and Yusel talk. She cannot hear the words but watches the body language. Though, after Yusel throws his arms around Ezekeal in a warm friendly hug. She shakes her head, and observes more interaction between Ezekeal and Yusel for the rest of the night.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Odile, Georgie, and Bruno continue to stand in the Lighthouse Bar. The local life is seeping into the bar as tourists, the common Hepian worker, sailors, and prostitutes start enjoying their drinks. Georgie watches Odile very closely, as he has since she got her spiked drink. Odile starts to feel awfully drunk and dizzy, which she finds strange since she has had only one drink.
After successfully drugging Odile, Georgie looks around to see if anyone notices his deed and to see if he needs to flee the scene. No one is paying attention to what is going on by the bar. Everyone is laughing, starting to sign, playing cards, and others are too busy with fleshly business that a large animal could jump in and they still would not notice. But Georgie does notice three large men who just stumbled through the doors of the bar. They come closer, and Georgie recognize them as the Solopian.
Georgie makes a sound of displeasure and thinks for a moment. "Well, we better be going. I think our lady friend has had a little too much to drink."
"I agree," Bruno says politely as he watches Odile wobble in her chair.
"And those men," Georgie says as he points toward the three men wearing furs, "they aren't on very good terms with me."
"Oh," Bruno says as he looks toward the three large men.
"It would be nice if we could avoid them."
"Okay," Bruno says as he gets up. "We have plenty to do before the sun rises. But what about our lady friend?"
"I don't want to leave her alone here," Georgie says with some compassion. The thought of her getting taken advantage seems a little too extreme for his style of revenge.
"We could get her a room." Suggests Bruno with a kind smile as if he is looking over a child trying to keep from falling asleep. He feels bad for her despite her being filthy.
"I think you had a little too much to drink," Georgie says directly to Odile. "Do you have money that we can have?"
Odile wobbles and tries to communicate something. Her moaning and gibberish communicates that she doesn't want to spend money.
As this happens, the three men start to point toward Georgie. Georgie glances over there to see them get up and through the crowd he hears, "Eat Olum grabber!"
"Okay, whatever we're doing we need to leave now!" Georgie says with some concern.
Bruno nods and picks up Odile without much struggle. The group of Solopian gets closer and Georgie ducks behind Bruno's large frame. Though the men still notice Georgie and start to shout, "Little man is bad! Little man is liar! Little man hands mince into pie!"
"It was only a minor misunderstanding," Georgie says to Bruno. "They have no idea what I was telling them at the time! They somehow think I am trying to swindle them!"
"Look there seems to be some kind of misunderstanding," Bruno says as he shifts the almost unconscious prostitute's weight fully on his shoulder. "This man is very nice and he has been helping me a lot. I am sure we can come to reason about the whole thing."
"You friend?!" Shouts one of them.
"Well, we are more than just acquaintances." Bruno reasons to not only them but to himself. "We spent the majority day together. And he has been very trusting..."
"YOU HAND NAILS WILL BE IN SAUSAGE!" Another one of them shouts. The room is becoming very quiet at this point.
"I don't appreciate that language!" Bruno shouts back.
Silence falls between the men and they stare at each other. Then from the crowd of on lookers someone shouts, "BRUNO! You're a real winner! Punch this guy's face in!"
"Show these foreigners something!" Screams another, who apparently is a woman.
"Show what a man of the goddess can really do!"
"Bruno you're my dream man!" Shouts another in a sultry voice.
Bruno looks around; he can feel the energy of the room. His eyes narrow and he says in a deep low many voice, "Take this."
He takes Odile, as if she was just a bag of potatoes, and thrusts her toward Georgie.
"Hey wait I can't..." Georgie says as he finds Odile in his arms. Georgie falls under the weight of Odile. Georgie though doesn't panic but takes the opportunity to look for some extra money. Despite feeling her up, he finds no money. Bruno luckily realizes that Georgie is being crushed. Bruno quickly picks Odile off of Georgie and props her against the bar counter.
"So what will it be?" Bruno says with a growl.
"If you fight, you fight fighter!" Says the eldest man.
"I accept!" Bruno says as he tears what is left of his nice shirt off. The crowd roars with cheers at the spectacle. Georgie smiles and backs off to let them have room.
The fighter, Vegal Prustic, comes and looks at Bruno. He also takes off his shirt, but doesn't rip it off. Vegal gets the first punch in, and the crowd roars. They exchange punches, and the crowd reacts with each and every punch, dodge, and swing. Bruno starts to find his footing and gets two good combo punches. Vegal starts to stagger a little as blood starts to ooze from his face. Georgie cheers and starts to rile the crowd. A chant of "For Goddess and Empire," starts to flow through the crowd and people start to clap their hands. More punches are exchanged between the two. Vegal starts to stagger and starts to swing wildly. Bruno takes the chance and hits his opponent five times in a row. Vegal slams to the ground. With the thud there is a dead silence and then the crowd cheers at the top of their lungs.
Bruno lifts his arms up in success. The other Solopians are shocked and pick up their fighter. They start to shout at Bruno as they leave but their curses and threats are not heard over the crowd.
Odile finally fully gives into the drug and slides toward the ground. She lands in the blood of the Solopian fighter who was just removed. Georgie and Bruno look her way in worry and disgust.
"Perhaps we should move her," Bruno suggests.
"Ew," Georgie says with a wince. "I agree."
Bruno in desperation tries to pat her face down with what is left of his tattered shirt.
"Would you like some help?" Georgie says as he kneels down next to Bruno.
"She probably has some money on her." Georgie says pleasantly to Bruno. "Because she will be such a wretched looking thing and it would be nice to give the church something for taking her in."
"That makes sense," Bruno says with a nod. "I could pay for it."
Bruno starts to wipe Odile's face, but the sweaty tattered garment only smears the blood and put some extra dirt on her once glowing complexion. Odile looks even worse and more corpse like.
"Let me use my hanker chief," Georgie says as he take out a handkerchief and he feels for money again but cannot feel anything through the skin tight dress.
"Let's go, but don't forget my box," Bruno says. He is about to pick up Odile from the ground, as he slightly lifts her, he drops her back into the pool of blood as he comes to realize something. "My chicken! Where's my chicken!?"
"What?" Georgie pauses for a moment as he had forgotten about their chicken.
"The Flute! We need the flute!" Bruno says as he desperately tries to find the pocket in which he has stuck it in. He finds the chicken flute in his pants pocket and is relieved to see it not broken. He blows in it a couple of times and finally produces a noise which makes the large chicken respond. Bruno looks around and sees his chicken come to him.
"We should put a leash on it." Georgie says as he rolls his eyes.
"Georgie, take my box," Bruno says as he grabs Odile. "Come on, to my moto!"
They come out and look at all the passengers and the amount of room. They finally settle with having the box on the floor of the sidecar. Next they set Odile in the side car with her feet on the box. Then they tie the chicken with what is left of Bruno's shirt to Odile's leg. Bruno gets on his motorcycle with Georgie behind him holding onto Bruno's massive torso.
Bruno starts the motorcycle and goes down the street. They travel through the city with out being spotted or stopped by the Authority, which is a miracle. Though, with so many tourists running about, the Authority themselves are running thin.
The church stands tall, looming in the moonlight as if it is guarding the large cemetery right behind it. The windows are fully lit, and several people go in and out of the large ornate door. Each time the door swings open the smell of malt, barely, hops, and cooking molasses collide into passerby's nose.
At the huge doors, Bruno starts to become concerned about his appearance. Bruno looks at his reflection and bites his lip.
"How do I look?" Bruno says as if he has an image to hold up at church.
This question strikes Georgie as a little odd since when he met Bruno, he was already a little shabby looking. "Well, how do I put this gently? You need to bathe, shave, and wrap up those torn up knuckles."
"Oh, really..." Bruno didn't realize he was all that bad.
They look around for a source of water which Bruno could wash himself off with. In the distance they see a grave stone which is in a shape of a shallow basin, a popular motif a few hundreds years back. They tend to be used as birdbaths by the local aves.
"That looks great!" Georgie says as he starts in that direction.
Bruno looks and shakes his head, "That would be bad and lowly."
They start to brainstorm how to get around Bruno's untidy situation.
"Listen, all we have to do is rely on the truth!" Georgie says as he smiles at Bruno.
"But I would look horrible in front of the Cocoen! What would she think of me?" Bruno starts to get a little too distressed.
"Listen," Georgie says as he tries to put his arm around Bruno. "You were in a fight in a friend's honor, that's very good right?"
"Yeah..."
"And now you are helping this poor defenseless... woman, or lack of a better word. You are making sure she has safe housing for the night. Isn't that grand in itself?"
"Right..."
"So, having gone through all these troubles you would look a little wretched." Georgie says giving Bruno a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"Yeah," Bruno starts to feel a little more confident. "That's exactly right! But I still think I will let you do the talking."
They go through the large doors which creek a little too loud to not gain attention. Some churchgoers are in the pews and kneeling but look up from their prayers. The sight of Bruno carrying the messy and passed out Odile starts to cause a commotion. Georgie tries to assure some people who are leaving that everything is okay, but they are ignored. As they go toward the front to the Cocoen, more people start to panic. Bruno stands strong as he carries the unconscious, blood-soaked, prostitute down the isle.
"WE WERE ATTACKED!" Bruno finally shouts.
People stop their panicking for a moment as Bruno, who is a well respected and loved member of their church community, is recognized. Most go on with their prayers and think nothing of the sight. As the crowd finally simmers down, the Cocoen approaches and looks at the trio.
"You need to take this woman. There is something terribly wrong with her!" Georgie says.
The Cocoen nods and motions for Bruno to put Odile down. Bruno does as he is told, and lays Odile down on the bench and the Cocoen approaches the unconscious prostitute. The Cocoen looks down with a kind matriarchic look as sits nears Odile's head and then props Odile's Head on her lap. Then swiftly, the Cocoen raises her hand and smacks Odile on the cheek. The sound of the slap reverberates through the church. Odile wakes up just enough to be hauled off by the church's helper. They parade her to the back where the small hospital is.
Goergie catches up to Odile and smiles, "Oh my, I am glad you are awake. There was a horrible fight where you became unconscious. It was my idea to take you here for the night because I never want to see a dear friend so defenseless. I think you owe me a favor."
"That's too bad," Odile says as she is being taken away, "I have no money!"
"Okay," Georgie says as he tries to not to grimace since he know she must have money on her. "See you around!"
"Oh, come on, let's get my alcohol." Bruno says as he grabs Georgie by the shoulder. He then approaches the Cocoen again, "Tell me, your fairness, what alcohol do you have?"
The Cocoen leads them to an altar of the goddess Galau which is surrounded by bottles which are filled with all sorts of drinks. "We have wine, we have spirits, and we have pure alcohol."
"Oh," Bruno says in delight, "Do you know what is best for a Disobian woman?"
"Why yes," she says with a smile. "They are not a goddess fearing country like our holy empire, so their drinks are not made to the purity or standards as our goddess has instructed. I am sure you can impress her both body and soul by showing her the true might of Galau by giving her a nice, dark, smooth brandy."
She takes out a bottle which contains the dark liquid. On the bottle has an etched picture of a flying duck in a circle. The bottle is hand blown and a strange scent, but is claimed to enhance the flavor of the drink while being poured.
Bruno's eyes reflect the glimmering light which shines from the glassy surface, "I'll take it!"
"WAIT!" Georgie says as he steps in and nudges Bruno.
"Oh," Bruno blinks and thinks for a moment. "How much is it?"
"I know that you are a goddess fearing man," the Cocoen says calmly. "And one of our more famous and popular attendees. For you, it will be 700 Pres."
"That's a little steep," Georgie as he pushes the bottle a little further away from Bruno. "I am pretty sure, Bruno, we could get this at any other church. If you really want to be loyal to this church I think they should take your budget into consideration."
"But both of you love the goddess don't you?" The Cocoen says with a slight scowl.
"But she can love as just as well at another church." Georgie narrows his eyes slightly but smiles a roguish smile.
"Fine," She says finally giving in to the demands of Georgie. "I will give you an unmarked bottle for 500 Pres."
Bruno looks at Georgie and Georgie nods back. Bruno takes out his money and they exchange good. They leave the church.
Bruno looks at his motorcycle and looks at Georgie. "Are we going separate ways?"
"Well, I could come to your place and make sure you are ready for your big day." Georgie says with his award winning smile.
"I do owe you for being a big help today." Bruno thinks for a moment, "And it would be easier to find you to hand you the rest of your money tomorrow."
"Well, if that's an invitation to stay at your place, I will take it." Georgie says with some hope of scoring some more money legal or illegally.
"You could stay in my maids' courters." Bruno says as he motions toward the motorcycle and Georgie gets into the sidecar.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Jubilation!
So, after waiting and grinding my teeth down from worry, I have finally explored and claimed a proper place to settle and game! From several favored locations which others had pointed out to me to several obvious choices, I and my lovely companion searched high and low. We finally came upon a place which met our criteria to the letter. Now, the wait for our group to rejoin and game together is over. The location is only for those who know, and will only find it once they get there.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Been Slacking on the GMing
As you noticed I haven't gotten real game play up yet. Oh well. I have been busy with other things like trying to find new jobs, cleaning up and closing down a pizzeria, and more importantly going to a comic book and pop culture convention! Yes, I went to the Emerald City Comicon! It was a blast! I wasn't there to see any of the celebrities but I was there to see the indie artists and what cool things I could find. It is like a treasure hunt of awesomeness!
So, one thing I found particularity was a graphic novel. It is called, "King of RPG," and it is awesome. It is a fictional look at all facets of gaming. Actually it reminds me of Yugioh, but if Yugioh wasn't some fag with leather pants and had schizophrenia. It is hard to explain without spoilers, but I recommend everyone looking at it. Here's a website even!
http://www.kingofrpgs.com/
Gap Filling for Ezekeal
NOTE: This piece of fiction is representation of game play in the game Tales of Hepian. But in reality this piece of fiction is just representation of what happened to one character whose player couldn't show up but I didn't want any loose ends. So really, this would represent game play if that game play really happened but it is just something I made up so we know what happened. Got it? I don't. So sit back relax and I'll have some real game play soon!
Ezekeal leaves the bar with the parchment in hand and takes no notice of anything else happening with the others who he had spotted earlier. He studies the parchment carefully and the contents of the message trying to see if he missed any detail which would help him with his new found job. He then stows it away in his pocket.
The busy street, as he observes, is filled with tourists and regulars to the prostitutes, who cat-call from the street’s edge. He ignores the women of the night, who obviously are displeased by his actions, and hails a cab. Some pass him by and drive directly to couples and foreigners. It seems that some of the cabbies are specifically targeting the foreigners with blue pamphlets which are being clung to, as if they are some holy talisman which will protect them in the exotic city of Ranstoc. And for the couples, cabbies know that the likelihood that the couples want to have a longer trip is higher then a lone man who wants to get somewhere quick.
Ezekeal tries again and one stops right in front of him. He gets in and instructs the driver to go to the Princess Madeline Hotel. The drive is fast, furious, and is like most Ranstocian cab rides which always include some white knuckle moments for any of the riders. The scenery quickly changes from the industrial district to the slick, ornate, downtown district. The cab driver pulls on the breaks and stops his auto in front of the grand Princess Madeline Hotel.
Ezekeal gets out and looks around; he sees the tall, eloquent building stand before him. There are foreigners and tourists in this area too but they have a different feel. There is not the atmosphere of chaos, fear, and confusion which most areas have been plagued with recently. The atmosphere is calm, collected in a determined way, and stuffy like the egos of these individuals cannot fit in the single large building they occupy.
He smirks, pays the impatient cabby, and then walks through its large gilded doors into the Princess Madeline Hotel. People greet him with, "Sir," as he walks through the crowd, which starts to slow him down but he manages to get to the front desk. Behind the green marble topped desk sits a woman who is coming in age but is still beautiful. Her name, according to her golden name tag, is Heather and she is a concierge for the night shift.
"Hello Sir," She says with a sincere smile, "welcome to the Princess Madeline Hotel. Where beauty lays while you lay in beauty. How may I help you this evening?"
Ezekeal exchanges a pleasant smile with her and with some extra charm says, "Hello miss. I am here on some business."
He slyly slips the piece of paper from his pocket and slides it toward her on the counter. She takes it and squints at it. He then takes a pair of reading glasses from her shirt pocket and starts to read it. She puts down the paper and slides it back to Ezekeal, her expression moves from fake happiness to slightly impressed.
"Well, you are here to see the dignitaries from Fisahes. Just a second," she pauses and turns around and puts more wiggle in her hips, "I cannot remember where they may be at. I have to check our logs."
She bends slightly and then turns around with a large record book. She opens the book to the current date and slides her finger down the page. She stops at some scribbles and then moves her finger across the page to where there are room numbers.
"It seems that the Fisahes party, which consists of Mr. Gloset, Mr. Turpunan, and Mr. Werskle are on the top floor in suite number 9."
Ezekeal thinks as he hears the name. He has not heard of either Mr. Gloset or Mr. Werskle but he has heard of Mr. Turpunan. Mr. Turpunan, or Raslek Turpunan, is from the Turpunan family, a long bloodline of gem mine owners. Turpunan’s family has not only had their hands in the gem business but also in the foreign relation business for a long time. He knows that the Turmpunan, especially Raslek, have been trying to keep the peace for years in their region. Not to mention, Ezekeal has worked with Raslek when last he traveled to Fisahes.
"Thank you, Heather," he says as he shoots another charming smile her way, "you have been more help than you have thought."
He moves past the large fountain which stands in the middle of the lobby and goes toward the elevators. He waits for them to open and makes his way in and tells the man working the elevators where he needs to go. The elevator smoothly runs up to the several floors which the packed elevator has requested to stop at. Finally, the top floor comes and Ezekeal gets out and looks down the hallway which stretches either way. He sees a few doors and determines where he needs to go. After a little walking, he ends up at room number nine.
He makes sure he has the piece of paper out and knocks. He can hear movement behind the door and waits for a person to answer the door. The door creeps open and an eye looks out.
"Room Service?" The man with the eye peeping through the crack of the door says.
"No, a service of another kind," Ezekeal smirks and shows the one eye the piece of paper.
"Oh," the door opens up and there stand a man slightly shorter than Ezekeal. The man holds out his hand in greeting and Ezekeal shakes it. "I am Gelo Werskle. Security Officer of the great country Fisahes."
"It’s a pleasure to meet you," Ezkeal says as he lets go and goes into the room. Gelo Werskle stays behind Ezekeal and shuts the door after they are both securely in. The room looks rather nice, despite a certain amount of disarray and passed-out, scantily clad, ladies which strewn the room.
"It looks like you have been busy," Ezekeal tries not to laugh.
"Yes, it is not below us to enjoy the local culture," Says Gelo as he walks toward Ezekeal. Ezekeal notices that there is a slight wobble in the man’s step and from how the man is holding himself, Ezekeal can tell he isn’t sober.
As Gelo walks around to the nice over stuffed couches, another man peers out of one of the many rooms. Ezekeal smiles and nods his head in greeting, it is his old friend Raslek Turpunan.
"Oh my," Turpunan says with a little embarrassment on his face, "you were the last person I expected in this part of the world."
"Not really," Ezekeal says as he comes up to Raslek and shakes his hand, "I am from this part of the world."
"Last I heard you died," He said a little confused.
"No know how it is," Ezekeal says with a shrug, "You get shot at and don’t show up for a while and people think you’re dead."
They both exchange laughs and unclasp their hands. Raslek steps in front of Ezekeal and motions him to follow. Raslek goes to the seating area where the over-stuffed couches and passed out women are. It seems that Gelo has been waking the women up enough to have a couch cleared. Raslek motions Ezekeal to sit down, and then sits himself.
Ezekeal makes the parchment more in view. Raslek nods his head in understanding, "I see you have found our job. Most people wouldn’t see the importance of having a leader of a dance troupe protected but apparently you do."
"Not really," Ezekeal said, "your ad just sparked my interest."
"As it would since you have worked with us." Raslek says as he signals toward Gelo who is still moving half unconscious women around. He comes and they talk in their native tongue, which Ezekeal understand a little of but isn’t interested due to the mundane nature of the conversation. "How rude of me, would like a drink Mr. Ramhor?"
Ezekeal shakes his head, "So what is so important about a dancer?"
"Well, as you know our valley region has been in political chaos for years. We blamed it on each other, we blamed it on the Fashadans or as some like to call the Nomads, and then we blamed it on Arbondas. Though came to realize through watching the Fashadans, especially Yusel Roba, that despite being different we can still be as one."
"So this Yusel Roba is a symbol of unity?" Ezekeal asks as he reaches toward his drink which is being handed to him by Gelo.
Raslek also reaches for his drink and takes a sip, "Yusel Roba has but it has gotten him some unwanted attention from the Arbondasian Government. They think he is a spy and is trying to Rebel the youth against their government. They cannot fathom that Menitope, Gelibras, and my country Fisahes are becoming one nation."
Ezekeal thinks about the significance of the three nations uniting, "That would mean that this new nation would have a strangle hold on mining and goods in that area and would eventually snuff out Arbondas."
"One would see it that way." Raslek says as he takes another sip and shrugs, "but someone might also point out that this way the casualties would be less then if three countries decide to take on that bull of a nation. That is if Yusel Roba does not die."
"Again, he seems far too significant."
"Mr. Ramhor you should know how it goes," Raslek sits forward with a sigh, "people need a leader to help them push through social and political change. For some reason, the freeness of the Fashadan people has a certain allure to our people. Yusel Roba’s ease to hop borders and carefree attitude are what the people in the valley want. The life of Yusel Roba is the life that all men and women want in our region."
"And if he dies?"
"Then both government and the people will lose hope." He finishes the last of his drink, "I suppose that there will be either mass chaos or war. One of those situations, you know."
"Far too well," Ezekeal also finishes his drink and leans back. "So, how am I awarded for my efforts to keep this man alive for the entirety of the fair?"
"On that parchment we said 20 karats, or an equivalent of 200,000 Press. It seems a lot for just a protection job, but we figure that since he will be performing and moving constantly without warning that it would be harder for people to catch up with him."
"There must be a string attached." Ezekeal smirks and look closely at Raslek. Like a true business man, Raslek doesn’t show a twitch of emotion until the time is just right.
"You only get the money if he is alive by the end of the fair." Raslek inspects Ezekeal too. "But you will be compensated for any expense you have to spend."
"It sound like a job," Ezekeal holds out his hand and shakes with Raslek. "So, where is this Yusel Roba?"
Raslek lets go of Ezekeal’s hand and then signals for someone. Gelo comes and both of them talk in their native tongue. Gelo then sluggishly leaves toward some other rooms. Two men, one is Gelo, are talking in a distant room. With a grumble another man emerges from the hallways. He looks tired, his clothes are disarrayed, and the smell of alcohol is strong on him. He wobbles toward the couches and sits down with out much resistance to gravity.
"This is Droctino Gloset," Raslek waves his hand toward the very tired looking man. "He is one of the intelligence officers from Fisahes. One of our best actually."
"Ish pleshure o’ me ‘o meed you." Droctino says as he signals for Gelo, who brings him a glass of water.
"No, the pleasure is all mine," Ezekeal says with a smirk as he tries not to laugh.
"We’re creeping on eyes to Yushy Ropa. His shippery hansh keep moving..."
Raslek looks slightly annoyed with his associate, "I think what my exhausted friend is saying that we’re keeping a close watch on Mr. Ropa but he has been slippery..."
"Dats what I shades!" Droctino wobbles in his seat, despite the couch being very stationary. "His in the nort. In a billing. My mean can dissect you... Rassy you give da call."
Droctino manages to get up without falling down and goes back to the hallways. When he is out of sight there is a large thud and Gelo goes to check what is going on. Raslek stays on the couch trying to look calm, despite a hint of annoyance floating up to the surface of his face.
"I can wait until the morning if you need to call your men." Ezekeal says with a smile.
"No, I will call them right now. I am terribly sorry," he says as he gets up, "but we were not expecting any visitors tonight."
He goes toward a small room which the telephone is located and spins the dial. He answers the phone in his native tongue. The conversation is not very long and more full of commands like, "Right Now," and "Main Camp."
Ezekeal waits for a few minutes and soon there is a rhythmic knock on the door. Gelo comes toward the door, which Ezekeal decides Gelo is more of a fortified butler than a Security Officer. Behind the door stands a man in plain clothes who would blend into the streets of Ranstoc but the man speaks the native Fiasahes tongue. The exchange between Gelo and the man is brief and professional. Then Gelo points Ezekeal out, as if he needed to be pointed out.
"I am Tuvley," the man says as he stands at attention, "I will guide you to the house of Yosel Roba."
"He is in a house?" Ezekeal stands up and looks the man, Tuvely up and down. He is young, strong, and looks like he can hold up in a fight.
"No, I do not know that word which refers to a place where rats avoid the scent of the building." The man says calmly.
"In my language there’s several words," Ezekeal says as he motions the man to leave. Turvely leaves and Ezekeal follow and they make their way out of the Princess Madeline Hotel.
The busy street, as he observes, is filled with tourists and regulars to the prostitutes, who cat-call from the street’s edge. He ignores the women of the night, who obviously are displeased by his actions, and hails a cab. Some pass him by and drive directly to couples and foreigners. It seems that some of the cabbies are specifically targeting the foreigners with blue pamphlets which are being clung to, as if they are some holy talisman which will protect them in the exotic city of Ranstoc. And for the couples, cabbies know that the likelihood that the couples want to have a longer trip is higher then a lone man who wants to get somewhere quick.
Ezekeal tries again and one stops right in front of him. He gets in and instructs the driver to go to the Princess Madeline Hotel. The drive is fast, furious, and is like most Ranstocian cab rides which always include some white knuckle moments for any of the riders. The scenery quickly changes from the industrial district to the slick, ornate, downtown district. The cab driver pulls on the breaks and stops his auto in front of the grand Princess Madeline Hotel.
Ezekeal gets out and looks around; he sees the tall, eloquent building stand before him. There are foreigners and tourists in this area too but they have a different feel. There is not the atmosphere of chaos, fear, and confusion which most areas have been plagued with recently. The atmosphere is calm, collected in a determined way, and stuffy like the egos of these individuals cannot fit in the single large building they occupy.
He smirks, pays the impatient cabby, and then walks through its large gilded doors into the Princess Madeline Hotel. People greet him with, "Sir," as he walks through the crowd, which starts to slow him down but he manages to get to the front desk. Behind the green marble topped desk sits a woman who is coming in age but is still beautiful. Her name, according to her golden name tag, is Heather and she is a concierge for the night shift.
"Hello Sir," She says with a sincere smile, "welcome to the Princess Madeline Hotel. Where beauty lays while you lay in beauty. How may I help you this evening?"
Ezekeal exchanges a pleasant smile with her and with some extra charm says, "Hello miss. I am here on some business."
He slyly slips the piece of paper from his pocket and slides it toward her on the counter. She takes it and squints at it. He then takes a pair of reading glasses from her shirt pocket and starts to read it. She puts down the paper and slides it back to Ezekeal, her expression moves from fake happiness to slightly impressed.
"Well, you are here to see the dignitaries from Fisahes. Just a second," she pauses and turns around and puts more wiggle in her hips, "I cannot remember where they may be at. I have to check our logs."
She bends slightly and then turns around with a large record book. She opens the book to the current date and slides her finger down the page. She stops at some scribbles and then moves her finger across the page to where there are room numbers.
"It seems that the Fisahes party, which consists of Mr. Gloset, Mr. Turpunan, and Mr. Werskle are on the top floor in suite number 9."
Ezekeal thinks as he hears the name. He has not heard of either Mr. Gloset or Mr. Werskle but he has heard of Mr. Turpunan. Mr. Turpunan, or Raslek Turpunan, is from the Turpunan family, a long bloodline of gem mine owners. Turpunan’s family has not only had their hands in the gem business but also in the foreign relation business for a long time. He knows that the Turmpunan, especially Raslek, have been trying to keep the peace for years in their region. Not to mention, Ezekeal has worked with Raslek when last he traveled to Fisahes.
"Thank you, Heather," he says as he shoots another charming smile her way, "you have been more help than you have thought."
He moves past the large fountain which stands in the middle of the lobby and goes toward the elevators. He waits for them to open and makes his way in and tells the man working the elevators where he needs to go. The elevator smoothly runs up to the several floors which the packed elevator has requested to stop at. Finally, the top floor comes and Ezekeal gets out and looks down the hallway which stretches either way. He sees a few doors and determines where he needs to go. After a little walking, he ends up at room number nine.
He makes sure he has the piece of paper out and knocks. He can hear movement behind the door and waits for a person to answer the door. The door creeps open and an eye looks out.
"Room Service?" The man with the eye peeping through the crack of the door says.
"No, a service of another kind," Ezekeal smirks and shows the one eye the piece of paper.
"Oh," the door opens up and there stand a man slightly shorter than Ezekeal. The man holds out his hand in greeting and Ezekeal shakes it. "I am Gelo Werskle. Security Officer of the great country Fisahes."
"It’s a pleasure to meet you," Ezkeal says as he lets go and goes into the room. Gelo Werskle stays behind Ezekeal and shuts the door after they are both securely in. The room looks rather nice, despite a certain amount of disarray and passed-out, scantily clad, ladies which strewn the room.
"It looks like you have been busy," Ezekeal tries not to laugh.
"Yes, it is not below us to enjoy the local culture," Says Gelo as he walks toward Ezekeal. Ezekeal notices that there is a slight wobble in the man’s step and from how the man is holding himself, Ezekeal can tell he isn’t sober.
As Gelo walks around to the nice over stuffed couches, another man peers out of one of the many rooms. Ezekeal smiles and nods his head in greeting, it is his old friend Raslek Turpunan.
"Oh my," Turpunan says with a little embarrassment on his face, "you were the last person I expected in this part of the world."
"Not really," Ezekeal says as he comes up to Raslek and shakes his hand, "I am from this part of the world."
"Last I heard you died," He said a little confused.
"No know how it is," Ezekeal says with a shrug, "You get shot at and don’t show up for a while and people think you’re dead."
They both exchange laughs and unclasp their hands. Raslek steps in front of Ezekeal and motions him to follow. Raslek goes to the seating area where the over-stuffed couches and passed out women are. It seems that Gelo has been waking the women up enough to have a couch cleared. Raslek motions Ezekeal to sit down, and then sits himself.
Ezekeal makes the parchment more in view. Raslek nods his head in understanding, "I see you have found our job. Most people wouldn’t see the importance of having a leader of a dance troupe protected but apparently you do."
"Not really," Ezekeal said, "your ad just sparked my interest."
"As it would since you have worked with us." Raslek says as he signals toward Gelo who is still moving half unconscious women around. He comes and they talk in their native tongue, which Ezekeal understand a little of but isn’t interested due to the mundane nature of the conversation. "How rude of me, would like a drink Mr. Ramhor?"
Ezekeal shakes his head, "So what is so important about a dancer?"
"Well, as you know our valley region has been in political chaos for years. We blamed it on each other, we blamed it on the Fashadans or as some like to call the Nomads, and then we blamed it on Arbondas. Though came to realize through watching the Fashadans, especially Yusel Roba, that despite being different we can still be as one."
"So this Yusel Roba is a symbol of unity?" Ezekeal asks as he reaches toward his drink which is being handed to him by Gelo.
Raslek also reaches for his drink and takes a sip, "Yusel Roba has but it has gotten him some unwanted attention from the Arbondasian Government. They think he is a spy and is trying to Rebel the youth against their government. They cannot fathom that Menitope, Gelibras, and my country Fisahes are becoming one nation."
Ezekeal thinks about the significance of the three nations uniting, "That would mean that this new nation would have a strangle hold on mining and goods in that area and would eventually snuff out Arbondas."
"One would see it that way." Raslek says as he takes another sip and shrugs, "but someone might also point out that this way the casualties would be less then if three countries decide to take on that bull of a nation. That is if Yusel Roba does not die."
"Again, he seems far too significant."
"Mr. Ramhor you should know how it goes," Raslek sits forward with a sigh, "people need a leader to help them push through social and political change. For some reason, the freeness of the Fashadan people has a certain allure to our people. Yusel Roba’s ease to hop borders and carefree attitude are what the people in the valley want. The life of Yusel Roba is the life that all men and women want in our region."
"And if he dies?"
"Then both government and the people will lose hope." He finishes the last of his drink, "I suppose that there will be either mass chaos or war. One of those situations, you know."
"Far too well," Ezekeal also finishes his drink and leans back. "So, how am I awarded for my efforts to keep this man alive for the entirety of the fair?"
"On that parchment we said 20 karats, or an equivalent of 200,000 Press. It seems a lot for just a protection job, but we figure that since he will be performing and moving constantly without warning that it would be harder for people to catch up with him."
"There must be a string attached." Ezekeal smirks and look closely at Raslek. Like a true business man, Raslek doesn’t show a twitch of emotion until the time is just right.
"You only get the money if he is alive by the end of the fair." Raslek inspects Ezekeal too. "But you will be compensated for any expense you have to spend."
"It sound like a job," Ezekeal holds out his hand and shakes with Raslek. "So, where is this Yusel Roba?"
Raslek lets go of Ezekeal’s hand and then signals for someone. Gelo comes and both of them talk in their native tongue. Gelo then sluggishly leaves toward some other rooms. Two men, one is Gelo, are talking in a distant room. With a grumble another man emerges from the hallways. He looks tired, his clothes are disarrayed, and the smell of alcohol is strong on him. He wobbles toward the couches and sits down with out much resistance to gravity.
"This is Droctino Gloset," Raslek waves his hand toward the very tired looking man. "He is one of the intelligence officers from Fisahes. One of our best actually."
"Ish pleshure o’ me ‘o meed you." Droctino says as he signals for Gelo, who brings him a glass of water.
"No, the pleasure is all mine," Ezekeal says with a smirk as he tries not to laugh.
"We’re creeping on eyes to Yushy Ropa. His shippery hansh keep moving..."
Raslek looks slightly annoyed with his associate, "I think what my exhausted friend is saying that we’re keeping a close watch on Mr. Ropa but he has been slippery..."
"Dats what I shades!" Droctino wobbles in his seat, despite the couch being very stationary. "His in the nort. In a billing. My mean can dissect you... Rassy you give da call."
Droctino manages to get up without falling down and goes back to the hallways. When he is out of sight there is a large thud and Gelo goes to check what is going on. Raslek stays on the couch trying to look calm, despite a hint of annoyance floating up to the surface of his face.
"I can wait until the morning if you need to call your men." Ezekeal says with a smile.
"No, I will call them right now. I am terribly sorry," he says as he gets up, "but we were not expecting any visitors tonight."
He goes toward a small room which the telephone is located and spins the dial. He answers the phone in his native tongue. The conversation is not very long and more full of commands like, "Right Now," and "Main Camp."
Ezekeal waits for a few minutes and soon there is a rhythmic knock on the door. Gelo comes toward the door, which Ezekeal decides Gelo is more of a fortified butler than a Security Officer. Behind the door stands a man in plain clothes who would blend into the streets of Ranstoc but the man speaks the native Fiasahes tongue. The exchange between Gelo and the man is brief and professional. Then Gelo points Ezekeal out, as if he needed to be pointed out.
"I am Tuvley," the man says as he stands at attention, "I will guide you to the house of Yosel Roba."
"He is in a house?" Ezekeal stands up and looks the man, Tuvely up and down. He is young, strong, and looks like he can hold up in a fight.
"No, I do not know that word which refers to a place where rats avoid the scent of the building." The man says calmly.
"In my language there’s several words," Ezekeal says as he motions the man to leave. Turvely leaves and Ezekeal follow and they make their way out of the Princess Madeline Hotel.
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