Golden Lore: Chapter 1

Kratoury

Active Member
Member
Gods the crowds in this place are suffocating, Rosalia mused to herself as she gingerly glanced out from behind the curtain towards the seething mass of disgustingly uninvolved and worse unoccupied spectators. It took her a moment to remind herself that not everywhere was as regimented or as disciplined as she was used to, and by the time she turned her attention properly towards the conversation she'd found herself pulled into one word immediately jerked to mind. Placing a hand on Althea's shoulder, the younger yet considerably more mature princess gently chided her with a soft, "Language, sister." ... Although the sentiment was somewhat lessened by the way she immediately followed it up by looking up towards Eystin, an influential is somewhat distasteful man in her own opinion. "Ah, everyone's favored... What's the word for an overly bloated mistress? Oh- bloated in the sense of scope, not size, you're actually looking quite well Mr. Eckart."

She shifted a touch, glancing towards Althea as though she were going to chide her further for being so friendly towards someone of his like- not that she particularly disliked him, it was just unbecoming for a princess- but ultimately chose to hold her silence since the poor thing seemed to be taking this whole ordeal a bit harder than anticipating. In a lot of ways Rosalia felt sort of uninvolved in her sister's frustration. It was almost inevitable that they lost the war as they did, but at the same time she was quite pointedly looked at as the face of the Mistlord Kingdom's military and as such felt at least some vague responsibility for their loss. For just a moment her visage began to soften and it seemed like she was going to kiss the littler princess on the head or something similarly comforting. But then, as she often did, Althea reminded her that she was kind of a brat and Rosalia could do naught but sigh at the proposal that she might be interested in a fighter for their appearance...

Well no, that wasn't fair. There were some fighters that could be considered attractive, but Dandy Diavel? Ugh, it may have been a on the nose to say so but she'd sooner kiss a Goblin. "Right, and with such a firm grasp of romantic interests maybe you should settle in with the good sir Eys-" Ah, saved by the bell. Laurence spook up, alongside the only tentatively welcome Emperor Amell. As was always the case- as had been the case since to two were toddlers even- Rosalia immediately stepped in between Althea and their guests. She didn't brandish a weapon or threaten anyone, but just the presence of the royal protectorate was enough to make a firmer statement than a gun to the temple. "Ah, Laurence dearest, I can't help but notice you've already taken quite well to the Riordian vernacular hm? Husbands and Wives, Fathers and their children? And of course we should put a bit more emphasis on Brothers shouldn't we? Well, I'll assume that you didn't mean anything by it." She gave Laurence a rueful little smile. She looked up to him and always had, but if he thought that meant she'd let him start talking down to their sister he truly didn't know what she thought of the word duty.

"And dear, dear Amell." ... It was kind of starting to seem like Rosalia used the word dear as some sort of hateful prefix at this point, but whatever, "You say our country's champions are going to face off and yet... I haven't heard anyone speak of a match between you and I? Could it be that it was lost in the mail- these times have been so turbulent I don't even have any difficulty believing that such might be so." She chuckled quite openly, then glanced towards Althea as though to ask her opinion on the matter. Rosalia, it went without saying, would follow the little princess regardless of her decision.

TAG: @BlookyHannah, @Requiem, @God, @Anime
 
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Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator
Brigand's Barroom, West End

Diarmuid turned as the door opened, noticing his coworker walking in as the sunlight followed him. "Yeah, it's pretty fuckin' weird to be honest." He furiously wiped down the bar, making sure that it looked presentable. "Honestly, my main concern is on the fight between Dandy Diavel and Gruk Stoneshatterer. It should drive some good business and it should be a pretty good fight." Diarmuid was quick to shift topics on the treaty. He didn't care much for politics and to him, it felt like an eventuality that came true - not really an event to be celebrated. He shrugged his shoulders as he helped Dion with wiping tables and chairs and cleaning the glasses.

Diarmuid's sharp eyebrow quizzically raised as the patron with the hooded poncho entered. Really? A poncho with a hood? It wasn't even raining out at all. Diarmuid had no idea about the weather for today, but brushed the thoughts of his head. He would just be slipping upstairs to his room anyway, so there was no need for him to worry.

"I reckon we could do that for you, sir." The southern twang of the gentleman influencing Diarmuid's words ever so slightly as his fingers slowly reached for the crowns. Diarmuid's finger gently scratching the lapel of the the previous Emperor on the front of them. A soft ridge scratching back at his short, gnawed nails. The halfling leaned against his counter as it was a lazy morning and his patron seemed to be pretty relaxed. His elbow nestling on the corner as his fingers shifted the bills around to face the same way; his fingers gliding against each crown as he felt for anything strange. Counterfeit bills weren't entirely strange in this day and age and he was especially careful since the King of Rats dropped word to him that they were cycling again within Poria. One of the benefits of having questionable patrons.

Diarmuid pulled himself off the counter, folding the bills and pocketing them for now. He wasn't sure how much this fellow would drink and more importantly, if there was a tip and how he would split it with Dio. What should he serve the guy? Top shelf? Nah. There wouldn't be an ample tip. He asked for strong with no rocks. Diarmuid glanced over at the Whiskey section, frowning as his back was turned to his customer. He hated when customers did this. The guy seemed quaint enough as Diarmuid picked a slightly above average whiskey to supply him with. Grabbing a glass that was polished recently, he gently plopped in front of the man as he uncorked the Thrak Dannyals and poured it. The amber liquid swirling into the glass as the soft hint of vanilla floated from the glass. Gently pushing the glass forward with his index finger, he grabbed the remote from under the bar with a chuckle. "I don't blame you, sir."

Diarmuid switched to the channel of the fight. Even if the treaty was signed, this fight was hyped up within the public and it seemed unlikely that an assassination would even stop it from airing. Diarmuid grinned as he saw Dandy Diavel in the corner, muttering to himself. "Get 'em, Dandy." Diarmuid would not call himself a Dandy fan, but a Double Dandy fan. The tiefling was a fiery scamp when he was climbing the rankings earlier on and was a complete showman. Declaring his KO's, showboating when his opponent was down. Some acts that could be seen as unsportsmanlike were just seen as charisma when Dandy did them, charming his audience with his devilish personality.

Diarmuid snapped a glare at the Poncho Patron as he chimed in about Gruk snapping Dandy in two. Diarmuid poured yet again, regretting that he gave the man an above average whiskey. The pour was aggressive, glugging out before pulling back. A few drops spilling as Diarmuid's sharp eyes looked at the man, trying his hardest to manage a playful smirk. "The only thing Gruk breaks is a chair whenever he sits down. M'boy Dandy will dance circles around him." Kicking off the bar again, he swung to the fridge as he snagged a root beer. Holding it in his left hand, Diarmuid hardened his thumb and flicked the cap open. A small tink could be heard as the bottle cap popped off, smacking into the ceiling. Giving a sigh, he looked down and saw the glass chipped from where his thumb was. "Damn.." Grabbing a frosted mug, he poured his root beer in there before moving it back to the Poncho Patron. As much as he disliked him for supporting Gruk, he was a fan of the fight and he needed someone to talk about it.

Diarmuid glanced over at Dion as he gave a smirk. "Hey Dio. Who are you rooting for in the fight? Dandy or Gruk?" A wry and smug smile on Diarmuid's face as he was eager to hear his answer. He grabbed a notepad as he waited for the answer, scribbling down a note for Dio swiftly to leave behind the bar, obscured from the view of the customers.

Dio,

Guy just dropped a thousand crowns to drink for however long. How much until we switch to the bottom shelf and how do we want to split this?


TAG: @Shizno & @Requiem
 

coolpool2

Savage AF
The Original Gangster
Florina’s head quick flew back to her body and placed itself on her neck as her hands did up the bandages around her neck keeping it in place. “Annoying.” She mumbles to herself. So much misfortune, how unfortunate. She let out a sigh and narrowed her eyes, glaring at the half orc. The coattails of her attire swishes behind her as she gracefully walks between the two, no sign of panic or tension in her eyes, only annoyance. She tries her best to keep her composure, ignoring the crowd around them. She hated drawing attention to herself. Florina just wants a quiet life. Might lay low for a bit. News comes and goes quickly these days. Won’t take long for people to forget about this, especially with the big news, but for now I should try to keep things from getting worse, at least until security comes. It seems like I got roped into something annoying again, but it can’t be helped.

“If you pick a fight here things could get quite unfortunate for you. Please have some common sense and be mindful of those around you. I do not know what your quarrel is about, and I do not wish to know, but we can still deescalate things.” She spoke as if scolding a small child. Her unwavering cold eyes staring him down. Her body tenses up for a fight without showing it too much. She had no intention of causing anyone any harm, and thus kept her dagger safely hidden away with no intent on using it. Nonetheless, she was ready to stop the half-orc in his tracks the moment he attempted anything. It wouldn’t be a difficult feat, after all she had plenty of experience with wild animals.

TAG: @Pony Slaystation @Requiem
 

Pony Slaystation

Member
Member
Grocery Store, South End

Barohel ate a bony fist and suddenly everything was spinning red. He reached out to steady himself, but grabbed the conveyor belt at the checkout instead. The hit didn't knock him to the ground, but that almost did. That moment would probably be memed over and over again over the coming weeks, if the fight was good enough to go viral. Barohel didn't spare this a thought in the moment, but it would occur to him later, and he would be briefly ecstatic for the opportunity to take advantage of another fifteen minutes in the zeitgeist.

For now, though: Regain balance. Shake it off. Blink the blood out of his eyes.

Mental checklist—Signs of a concussion: No loss of consciousness, that's a good start. Dizziness? Check. No telltale ringing in the ears, though. No nausea, no vomiting. The only thing he was confused about is why this child almost half his size thought it would be a good idea to escalate this situation, let alone engage him in the first place. Honor was a big part of orcish culture. Barohel had sullied his own by offering a way out. That was no small mercy.

Deep down, in a part of him he didn't think about except late, late at night, after his wife was asleep and in his therapist's office, something came unhinged. Only slightly. Only briefly. Because despite popular orcish stereotypes (which, it occurred to him, his new friend was doing nothing to overcome) and despite popular strongman stereotypes, Barohel was not a stupid nor an impulsive man. Even if he had been, there were far too many witnesses. No lawyer in Riordan could successfully plead self-defense after the kinds of things Barohel was capable of.

He thought of his sons, his wife, his baby girl.

He had breathing exercises for this, and he thought of them.

And, after he had successfully calmed himself down—it didn't take long anymore; ten, twelve seconds, tops—he reached over, took the half-orc's still-outstretched fist gently in his hand, and snapped his fingers backwards one by one.

TAG: @Requiem, @coolpool2
 
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Easy

Right Honorable Justice
Member
The Farros Estate

Literally, eh? Fortune pictured a stack of gold-plated boxes locked up in a room somewhere, but declined to comment as much. He'd always been strongly inclined towards being a smartass, but no longer gave in to the impulse very often, the way he had when he was a child.

"Sso" he said instead, simply. "Obv'sly, ain't as easy as jusst walking in th' vault, right? Even f'r you." Or just showing up in my office if you really wanted a meeting this badly, apparently. Good to know.

"Sso what d'ya want uss f'r, an' what'ss yer offer?" He folded his arms and leaned back, mildly annoyed that the old man seemed to have summoned him here just as a favor to one of his 'friends', but ready to get down to business regardless. Though admittedly, based on her record, she seemed like the kind of woman to have thought things through and know what she was doing, he'd rather go ahead and move on to fundamentals anyway.

"In th' interesst of full diss-closure, my trick's always rollin' ssevens. And lotsa men wif' lotsa gunss."

TAG: @Requiem @Tirin
 
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Tirin

God-Emperor of Tealkind
Moderator
The Farros Estate

A few moments of silence passed, and Kanin's mental "search" came to a complete halt, after Sage made her proposition. Adrenaline began to course through the killer's veins as he considered it, his pupils dilating slightly - though much moreso than they had when he murdered Soap. Robbing the Empire's treasury... it was foolish beyond measure, but carried the potential to make everyone involved wealthy beyond belief. He looked up to the screen and took another few gulps, downing the last of his whisky while he pondered his choice and Fortune made his concerns clear. He spoke when the goblin finished, trying not to smirk when he claimed that his 'trick' was nothing more than rolling sevens. Kanin knew the truth of that one; he knew the secrets of damn near everyone in the East End, but had the sense to keep quiet about them.

"No amount of... plane-hopping is gonna get us clean through their security. The Empire's got military-grade antimagic tech and probably even better, what with all the looting they've done the last few centuries. I'm not quite clear on how that nifty little trick o' yours works," though, given the focus he was now putting on Sage's thoughts, he was rapidly becoming moreso, "but I've doubts about your ability to get through that. Not to mention they'd be extremely heavily-armed and, to top all of that off, even in the unlikely event that we succeed we'll be on the top of the Empire's most wanted lists. Believe me when I say that they'd probably find us; they've got people for it, unless we're going to hop on out of the material plane permanently."

He let those concerns hang for a moment before meeting Sage's eyes and leaning forward onto his elbows, a deranged smile spreading onto his face as a mixture of nausea and excitement bloomed within him at the thought of so defying the Empire. "That said... tell us what you've got planned. I'm interested in seein' where this goes; in case you're terribly ignorant and uninformed, I'm a telepath - among plenty of other things. If your idea sounds good in detail, I'll be more than happy to elaborate further." He glanced over to Vin, giving the elderly dragonborn a respectful nod (by Kanin standards). "'nother whisky, if you don't mind. I'll take this one on the rocks."

TAG: @Requiem @Easy
 

Easy

Right Honorable Justice
Member
The Farros Estate

Fortune met the stunned glances of his fellow crime lords with a total lack of concern, as his bodyguard suddenly took a seat at the table and started grilling the woman Vincenzo Farros had referred to as "an equal." (Not that anybody had really taken that proclamation at face value anyway.) If he'd just brought the elf along to guard and kill for him, like (presumably) Graggor's gnomish woman, then that would have been a problem... but he hadn't, and it wasn't.

"Misster Vikona has... eks-sperience in these matterss." He waved a hand, as if fanning away the embarrassed silences of the other bosses. "He sspeaks wif' my authority."

Besides, the elf was contracted to gather information as well as to execute... any difficulties, in this meeting. 'Prim and proper' was one thing, but professionalism was what the goblin was really concerned with. And nothing said 'professional' like taking extra steps to ensure quality of work.

TAG: @Requiem @Tirin
 
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Requiem

Well-Known Member
Member
Outer Poria, South End, Park

The imp in the bottle turned away from Drokk and slapped its pus-filled ass a few times. As it did, each smack launched a smattering of the putrid liquid into the air and against the glass. It burned just as the imp's finger had a few seconds ago, but this time the pus seemed to entirely evaporate.

"You're gonna have to get this bottle open if you want to even have a chance at controlling me." The imp had a look in his eye that suggested he wanted to be taken, that he wanted a master. He wasn't about to make things easy for Drokk, though.

"You either get this bottle open soon or you won't be finding out what I know! Big things going on tonight, big, big things!"

TAG: @Dunsparce

- - -
Grocery Store, South End

Despite the dullahan woman in between the two of them, Barohel grabbed the half-orc's finger and bent it back sickeningly. The sound of crunching bones tearing muscles apart against their will was sudden. The crowd gathered there was shocked... but not enough to put their phones away.

"Okay, break it up!" As the half-orc moved to try and fight back, a strong arm gripped his hand. Standing over him was a human, far larger than any human deserved the right to be. Probably related to his magic. "You three are coming with us." The man wore a badge, had a gun on one side of his belt and a wand on the other. He wasn't just security, he was a cop. At least... that's how it seemed.

He pointed at Barohel and Florina, told them they were being detained, but not for any wrong doing on their part. "Honestly, it's more of a formality. I was watching this go down upstairs," and he nodded up to what one could only guess was the store's manager's office. "It was self defense, that cut on your forehead says so. Can't let you leave until I get a statement out of you though, so please follow after me. The manager says he wants to talk to you as well." He pointed at Barohel with his final words. The perks of being a celebrity.

The "cop" lifted the half-orc to his feet and pushed him towards a set of stairs leading to the office he mentioned. Now that things were calming down, the crowd began to dissipate back to their chore of grocery shopping.

Barohel, bleeding from the forehead, and Florina, quietly considering her options, watched as the "cop" opened the door and moved to ascend the stairs.

TAG: @Pony Slaystation, @coolpool2

- - -​

Farros Estate, East Poria

Sage considered their words carefully. The two she had been most interested in interviewing for the job, Fortune and Kanin, were the most vocal. She appreciated that. In the world of crime, being able to voice your thoughts effectively was key, yet so few criminals had any idea how to properly do that. She appreciated the show of co-operation between the two of them in response to her showing off her own magic power. She knew about the unnatural luck Fortune had (no one worth their weight in gold would be able to miss that one though) and though she didn't know the extent with which his ability operated, she'd heard talk of Kanin's telepathy before. Both men had reputations which preceded them, though more importantly, they had capabilities beyond the average criminal.

"The details are more complicated than I'd care to admit. Of course the empire has its treasure under lock and key. The true wealth of the empire is spread across the entire material plane of our planet, but the riches the emperor referred to are beyond merely economic wealth." Sage spoke with an almost robotic sort of cadence, not quite lacking emotion, but certainly not trying to be charismatic either. She was quick and direct.

"First, before I give the details of this endeavor, I must give you full disclosure of my intentions. I am a criminal, like you. I am a killer, like you. I am wicked and vile, perhaps like you, perhaps not. I also have goals. Dreams. I do what I do to accomplish these goals and to fulfill my dream. That dream is to one day end the empire as we know it. I intend to give the lands back to the people. I intend to remove this so-called hegemony and to give this part of the material plane back to those who rightfully own it." The entire time she spoke, Sage had put her hands on the table, perfectly spaced apart. Her eyes met both Fortune and Kanin's own, though both could swear she never took her eyes off of either of them. "Please, hitman. Probe my mind to see if you find any lie in my words."

Kanin would find that she had not. Her earnestness was almost strange, too forthright, too direct, too... good for a woman claiming to be cruel and evil, to be a killer, but all of what she said checked out within her mind.

"This is all to say, I have ulterior motives. This job I have brought to you is meant to make me achieve my dream of stopping this world government. However, despite my ulterior motives, I can assure you that upon successfully completing this job, you will be all the more handsomely rich and powerful than you were before walking into this room."

She scanned the room once more. Bo Sky rubbed his head for a moment. Solomon pushed his chair onto its hind legs, appearing to be thinking about her words. Farros merely stared at the other four men seated at the table, just as Sage was. After a few moments of silence, Sage began to speak once more.

"The goal is to make all of you rich and to unify these criminal families under one banner. You do not have to see each other as family, but allies. There is one thing I learned in my time in the ethereal plane." Were Kanin to probe her mind at this moment, he would see the faint flash of years pass instantly. The mental image would suggest decades had passed for Sage while seemingly trapped in the ethereal plane, but only a single year had passed in the material plane. The cost of controlling her magic came with decades spent in a world unlike her own, but one she had come to control all the same. "That one thing was the value of control, whether over yourself or others. Controlling ourselves is one thing. Working as a unit to control the crime in this city is another. None of you can become greater than you currently are if you are constantly biting at each other's backs."

She stared again, but only for a moment.

"If this satisfies you of my intent, I can tell you now of what this job entails. Tonight, there will be a boxing match between two champions, one from the empire, the other from Mistlord.

"There will be wealth beyond imagining at the site of this boxing match. Within Inner Poria, at the Holy Centurion Casino, relics of bygone eras stolen by the empire will be ripe for the taking. Their security, one would assume, is vast, yes, but having seen the full extent of it myself, I can safely say that we will be more than capable of stealing whatever we want during this event and that is for one reason only.

"The emperor wants to show it off to his guests."

TAG: @Easy, @Tirin

- - -
Seat of Power, Inner Riordan

Althea crossed her arms and stared up at the emperor before he. He dared invite her to a boxing match? He dared insinuate it was some sort of date? She had every mind to tell him off right then and there, but Rosalia spoke up before she did. It was true, the boxers tonight were representatives of their countries, but champions? Really?

"Well..." The emperor turned to face Rosalia and stared her down. "I hardly consider myself the champion of my empire, though the sole representative of it in all matters I can possibly address, certainly. I'm not much of what you'd consider a fighter or even a soldier. You'll have to forgive me, certainly."

His voice came off with a genuine tone, but the sarcasm was equally present. The thinly veiled tension between the emperor and Rosalia was potent, almost violently so. Laurence stepped towards his sister Rosalia and locked his arm with hers. "Please sister, come with me a moment." He began moving off to the side, hoping she would follow.

"Mr. Eckart, I am so sorry." Althea turned to the cambion standing next to her, but occasionally looked over her shoulder at the emperor who had also turned towards the other man.

"Yes, a man such as yourself deserves respect, sir." The emperor smiled down at him. The smile seemed... warm, genuine even. He seemed to absolutely glow with some sort of invisible, yet entirely golden light. You could see it and yet... not. "My apologies as well, I hadn't intended my invitation to come off with such..."

"Lack of class?" Althea offered. "Yeah, I bet you didn't. You just took my future from me, you think we wanna hang out with you?"

But as she said the words... something about the emperor seemed different. That golden glow from before was... gone? No, maybe not gone, but his sense of self seemed all the more human now. He felt different, like someone Althea wouldn't mind getting to know. He had seemed too high and mighty before, too noble even. Now it was like he had come down to her level and it didn't seem like a slight for her to see it that way.

"I'm sorry for doin' that..." Amell said flatly. "I just want to make a good impression for the world and seeing the two of us, hell, all of us together at the match tonight would mean a lot to the people. There are soldiers toasting one another over this treaty right now in the north, in your land, people who were shooting at one another only a few months ago. Don't come to this event for me, come out for them."

Althea at first felt repulsed by him. She wanted to kick in the balls and go home. She wanted to sit on her mother's throne and pretend for a moment, just a moment, that she had received her birthright. In that moment, the feeling passed. Gold faded from her view and she saw the man before him exactly as he was: just a man.

"Fine. I'll go with you. I can't speak for everyone else, but... I'll go with you to your stupid-- eh, your very interesting boxing match."

She stared at him, seeing him for the first time really. He wasn't much older than her. He seemed larger than life only a few minutes ago, but now he was down-to-earth, quiet even. Althea considered the idea that it had to do with his magic... but she would keep that information to herself, for now.

TAG: @BlookyHannah, @Kratoury
 

coolpool2

Savage AF
The Original Gangster
Florina let out a sigh as her eyes narrowed. It was nice that things were resolved relatively peacefully, but it still felt like bad luck she was caught up in the matter. Feeling a bit more relaxed as the crowd disperses, she recomposes herself. She follows the cop up the stairs, wanting to get things over with. Her eyes move to the orc man who had broken the half-orc’s finger with such ease. For a moment, she wonders how she would fare against him in a fight. The thought leaves her mind as quickly as it enters, there’s no point in thinking about such a thing. I just want a quiet life.
 

Dunsparce

Well-Known Member
Member
Drokk grimaced with disgust and hate for the demon. He considered holding a flame under the bottle to torture the it into obedience, but it occurred to him that demons typically have an immunity to strong heat. Drokk pondered for a moment if there were any way he might be able to leverage the situation in his favor before opening the bottle, but he could not think of anything.

"Fuck it."

Drokk threw the bottle against the ground, far harder than he thought he'd need to. He didn't just want to open the bottle, but teach the demon a lesson as well. Drokk began charging his magic. He created a ball of blood-red hellfire in his right hand, a spell that wouldn't truly harm the demon, but could cause it intense pain nonetheless.
 

Easy

Right Honorable Justice
Member
The Farros Estate

Fortune stared thoughtfully at the woman, and then slowly reached into his jacket to procure his cigars. "Talk about th' heat" he said, and then took a second to put one in his mouth and light it. "Po-lees are all over me as it is. Can't hardly go take a piss wif'out runnin' into ffive undercovers on the way, and they've hardly got anythin' on me right now.

"Ssure I can generally sshake 'em, but tonight? Sshort notice. Yer' talkin' some pretty big chargess, here." He puffed out a whiff of smoke, and sighed. Her fanaticism bothered him a little, and he had no interest whatsoever in being a part of someone else's organization. Not to mention how disturbing it was to him, that she should be so keen on tearing down one empire, and yet sit here trying to pitch them the idea of another. Graggor and the Duende were still at war, for crying out loud. Did she not know that?

But anyway, that didn't really matter. They could have that discussion another time - or not, for all he cared. The potential job at hand now? That was worth talking about, at least.

"Ssounds like yer talkin' big payoff, but how's I know it's worf' th' rissk? They could sseize efverything I own just on ssuspicion of somefin' like this."

@Requiem @Tirin
 

Shizno

Well-Known Member
Member
Brigand's Barroom, West End

Dion certainly spent the beginning of his day like most others. The young catboy taking the time to wipe all whatever dust had collected along the bar, ensuring that the glasses was clean, and doing general custodian things. Despite his job just to be cleaning things, he certainly took pride in his work. Because to him, despite his official job just being to clean things, he was more than happy to lend a hand on other things as well. His power allowed himself to provide assistance to prevent those unsavory types that would cause trouble to get in. Because while most don't consider a felidae of his stature to be intimidating, usually that changes once he throws a punch with all of his might. While Diarmuid's job might have been bartender and bouncer, it never hurt to have someone close to his level. Even if the halfling's power was more suited to being a more physical fighter.

And then there was the cat's healing ability. Dion able to act like a medic whenever fights went too fat, ensuring that the bar itself couldn't be sued for any potential bodily harm and... well, he just wanted to make sure people weren't too badly injured after he delivered a hard punch to them and probably broke at least someone of both of heir bodies. Because he might have just been a custodian, but the pompadour-wearing feline was far too much of a noblebright guy to allow someone to be hurt for long. Even if it sapped his energy swiftly.

And then there was Diarmuid. Their relationship was complicated to say the least. It was surprising to Dion to have met someone that enjoys the same style of hair fashion that he does and the duo have gained some sort of rivalry over the months that the feline has worked there. But while he considered him a rival... even more, the catboy had grown to considering him a friend. They might be different, but the bonds they've made over the time working at the bar was certainly nothing to ignore. Perhaps the halfling didn't consider Dion a friend, but that wasn't going to stop the younger of the two having mad respect for his senior.

The feline ears atop of Dion's head raised as the door opened finally and the well-off man walked into the room. His teal-eyes peering at the man curiously, but he kept at cleaning the remainder of the glasses that needed to be prepped for when the evening celebrations came in. But eventually a soft smile appeared on the younger boy's face as the conversation picked up.

"Ahaha. No way, not gettin' in the middle of this one way or another. Worried you're prepared to jump the bar and tackle me if I don't pick your Dandy, man." Dion claimed with a soft chuckle. "Plus, don't really watch sports anyways. Dunno why, just never saw the fun in watching other people fight." Perhaps it was his own thrill-seeking nature that drove him to be such a way. Envy would often sprout up when someone seemed like they were having an intense fight that Dion could be in the middle of instead! It just wasn't fair.

It wasn't long before the perceptive eyes of Dion finally noticed the notepad that he was writing on. Being as unsubtle as possible, he slapped his hand on the halfling's shoulder as he leaned in and squinted, trying to read the words that were on the notepad. His ears wiggling and... well, perhaps it never came up, but Dion technically had to wear reading glasses. Although he never did, feeling they made him look far too nerdy for his own good. "Ehhh? Dunno what y'mean, man. You're the barkeep, remember? Tips belong to you and stuff." He said aloud, plenty loud enough for the customer to hear him. And really, that was just the way his mind worked. It was Diarmuid's job, so he earned the money while he was bartending. Not like the boy was really hurting for cash, this job paid surprisingly well considering the owner valued the cat's own abilities.

Tag: @Requiem @Jeroth
 

Pony Slaystation

Member
Member
Grocery Store, South End

When the cop told them he saw the whole thing, a visible weight lifted from Barohel. He turned to one of the cameras and flashed a sheepish smirk. "If you don't have a grip trainer, the bones of your enemies work just as well."

He grabbed his milk and followed the cop upstairs, patting the dullahan on the back reassuringly. "Sorry I had to give you the reacharound," he laughed. "Don't worry. This has got nothing to do with you. Keep your head on straight and you'll be outta here in ten, twenty minutes tops." His voice was steady, but his eyes said pun intended.

TAG: @Requiem, @coolpool2
 

Tirin

God-Emperor of Tealkind
Moderator
The Farros Estate

Kanin's amber eyes hovered on Sage as she began to explain the nature of her plan - beginning with the rationale of why she wanted to execute it at all. He had to stop himself from openly scoffing at her; bragging about what seemed, to him, a laundry list of accomplishments and following that up with a focus on exaggerated, rebellious rhetoric was hardly the path to most of the hearts at the table. And yet - he took a long, slow sip of his second beverage as his stomach knotted itself up once more - he found that she meant all of it, whole-heartedly. She wanted to see the empire come crashing down, and the contract killer (when he thought about it, that was almost all he had ever been) had his own reasons for the same. That was what held criminals together, more than most anything else: the intersection of interests. He doubted, however, that her high-minded ideas about unification and cooperation would have any legs to stand on in company like this, who had fought and stabbed each other in the back for decades continuing to the present day.

The actual plan, though - the setup didn't seem too problematic, in theory. Other than how, without a doubt, the Emperor himself would be there with countless bodyguards and the aforementioned military-grade security, to say nothing of even standard fare like metal detectors. Impressing his guests, to Kanin, didn't imply that the sovereign of Riordan would give up extremely obvious safety measures. Then again... he might at least decide to keep it discreet for the sake of appearances, and in the process cut down on its effectiveness or increase the response time. Who would expect somebody with the right combination of excessive balls and inadequate brains to infiltrate (or storm) the casino and make off with all manner of antediluvian artifacts, anyway?

He didn't look over to Fortune, but rather gave him a subtle mental prod as the diminutive crime boss spoke his concerns. As stupid as it might sound, she really believes that we can do all of this - and if the Empire gets broken apart, there won't be anyone to take what we get out of it to begin with. I think it might be worthwhile to hear out the details; I'll ask a few questions. Though, frankly, I'm tempted to agree to it for my own sake. He said tersely, before turning his mental focus back towards Sage. "That's not a plan, Sage; that's a target. You're going to need to give us more than that even if we can come to an agreement on doin' this - which we'll need to, else it's not worth tryin' in the first place. I'll make this question real basic: d'you think we should go in cool or hot*? Because with that nifty lil' planeshifting ability of yours and the right approach, I'm sure either could work, but I'm sure everyone here is interested in hearin' more."

*Cool here meaning "in a relaxed and precise fashion indicating the use of small weapons and only if necessary, so as to avoid undue attention", and hot "through sudden, destructive, and heavily-armed means which, due to their force, would delay a response for the sake of protecting the Emperor and organizing a counterattack"

TAG: @Requiem @Easy
 

Easy

Right Honorable Justice
Member
The Farros Estate

Having his contractor start making a separate negotiation in the middle of a job he'd been hired to do was rather unprofessional, but Fortune had bigger fish to fry. If the Empire gets broken apart, he thought, forcefully and pointedly. The attitude he held while doing so indicated that while the man reading his mind had almost twice his weight of years, Fortune held himself very much the senior in such matters of broad capitulation and revenge. More than one organization had been made to suddenly disappear at his command, or tried to do the same to him and his.

...but the Empire won't get broken up by just one hit on a casino, no matter what's inside it. We'll take a fraction of what they have: Enough to make us rich, and enough to piss them off, and that's it. That's good enough for an idealist, but I don't care if they hurt. I don't even care about pissing them off, as long as it doesn't come back to me.

We could take every last crown they've got, and they would still have all their soldiers, and their satellites, and their machines all up and running until the paychecks started to bounce. Couple weeks, minimum. Enough time to grab the lot of us and make sure we never got around to enjoying it - plus friends and family, just in case.

At least, that's what I'd do, if it was me in their shoes, thought a goblin that no wise man would ever think of double-crossing.

@Tirin @Requiem
 

Requiem

Well-Known Member
Member
Outer Poria, South End, Park

The bottle shattered against the ground and an instant puff of smoke clouded the ground. For a moment, it seemed a simple thing, just a bit of broken glass and slowly dissipating smoke. The next moment, the smoke and glass seemed to coalesce together, whipping up into the shape of a large horned figure.

The imp inside the bottle now grew to be three times Drokk's size, far more powerful a demon than he could ever hope to control, not without its willing consent. The demon stared down at the troll, slowly leaning forward so that their faces were barely an inch away from one another. Before Drokk could react, the demon placed one thumb on the troll's jaw and another on his forehead, pushing his mouth open wide. In an agonizing instant, the demon pressed its face against Drokk's mouth and began pushing itself into it. Drokk felt the world grow black in front of him until...

A moment later, Drokk came to. The park around him was quiet, still, and altogether peaceful. In front of him was the blackened remains of the bottle he had thrown, as if it were a small firecracker he had set off on the ground. Nothing seemed to be wrong about the park or the display he had witnessed, as if he had been the only one to see it. In fact, the park was fine and so was he. He felt... better than fine, actually. That was at least until the voice began speaking in his mind.

'Oh, this is nice. I can't believe you broke the bottle like I told you to. Never trust a demon, kid. If you get out of this alive, let that be the main takeaway here.'

Behind Drokk's eyes, he could feel a presence that was not his own, the demon, certainly. He made a move to step forward, swing his arm, some sort of motor function, but found he could not. His arms lifted up in front of his face. He stepped forward without wanting to. He bounced on his heels and stretched, all movements he hadn't actually tried to do. He had no control over his body any longer, but his mind was still his. He could think, he could speak, but the demon had control of his physical form.

TAG: @Dunsparce

- - -
Grocery Store, South End

The four of them walked up the steps into the manager's office. That was indeed what it was. Inside, the manager of the store stood at a desk that was crowded with papers. The walls were filled with cork boards that were in turn pinned with announcements, events, and other scraps of paper the manager felt he needed. In the corner was a small TV playing none other than the treaty signing like every other screen in the world.

The "cop" pushed the half-orc onto a couch and gestured toward two chairs in front of the desk for the dullahan and the celebrity orc. "Brought 'em up like you asked, sir."

"Thank you. Money well spent." The manager was a squirrely looking elf, bald head, short figure, glasses. The only thing defining him as an elf were his prominent ears. The rest revealed him to be much unlike the stereotypical elf most knew. "Now, I-I-I-I'm sorry for what happened out there, to both of you, sincerely. I understand this sort of thing could happen anywhere what with your being a celebrity and just being in the wrong place at the wrong time." He gestured to the two of them separately. "You have to understand, Evermart doesn't condone this sort of behavior, we're not okay with this sort of thing at all."

The manager began pacing behind his chair before collecting himself and addressing the two wronged people.

"Listen, I can give you a coupon each for a guaranteed... let's say 100 crowns of groceries for the next two months? Buy your groceries for you, yeah? We'll even replace whatever cold stuff you have that may not still be cold after all of this." The manager looked at the milk in Barohel's hands. "And I was saving these special, but I must insist you take these tickets as a gift for your experience here today."

He pushed a ticket each into Florina and Barohel's hands. They were legitimate tickets to go see the fight of a lifetime, the boxing match in celebration of the ending of the war.

"Please, if there's anything else Evermart can do, let us know."

TAG: @Pony Slaystation, @coolpool2

- - -
Farros Estate, East Poria

"You're right, it's not a plan." The blonde woman with the burns on her hand. She stepped up to Sage's side rather than behind her. "There's more to this heist than just stealing money, artifacts, there's the anci-..."

"Silence." Sage spoke quickly, though it seemed a gravelly throb began to beat in her temple as she said it. "My assistant speaks true. There is more than just riches in this for us. We will be able to hurt the empire through this heist more than one might expect so long as it goes off according to plan. Of course, one knows these things rarely happen according to the plan.

"To put it simply, the showing of the artifacts will be heavily guarded, as one would expect. Before, during, and after the match tonight, various different treasures will be showed to the general public, or more specifically, those rich enough to get in to see the displays. These displays will be transferred in and out of the main viewing rooms of the Holy Centurion Casino at fixed intervals, on the hour, every hour from eight this evening to midnight."

The blonde woman made a move to step forward once again, but Sage merely turned her head in the woman's direction. Taking the nonverbal hint, the assistant stepped further back. 'You will speak when spoken to' the head turn had said.

"There are three targets for us to hit." Sage tapped once again on her tablet and the TV screen lit up once more. "The main viewing room, the storage chamber two floors down, the parking garage beneath that. In the storage chamber will be various valuable goods, as well as the casino's store of physical cash. Every hour when the artifacts are moved in and out of the main viewing chamber, they are to return to the storage chamber. Some will stay there for the rest of the evening, others will be transferred out of the casino to a secure vehicle in the parking garage beneath the casino. We do not know which artifacts will be taken to the garage and which will remain in the storage room, but the ones that do make it to the garage will be traded off to interested buyers, some in exchange for money, others for artifacts of equal value. The emperor's family have always been avid collectors, so seeing the young man following their behavior does not strike me as odd."

As Sage finished, it was clear to each of the people at the table that three things needed to happen: someone needed to be watching the storage chamber to nab specific items, the streets or even the garage itself when the secure vehicle left with its load of artifacts, and the main viewing area for relatively safe information gathering.

"It would be in our best interests to not go in 'hot' as you call it." Sage said to Kanin. "The fewer deaths the better. That's why I intend to have ourselves and our men root ourselves within the empire's workforce for the evening. Some of us will have eyes on the garage, others will infiltrate the storage facility, and those we can spare..." Sage paused for a moment to pull out three tickets, each bearing a unique seal at the bottom, right above the barcode. "Those we can spare will be hiding in plain sight in the main viewing chamber. Three of us will have unfettered access to the chamber as well as the boxing match itself. The main viewing chamber is connected to the imperial suite overlooking the ring. Whoever we choose to send in there will be rubbing elbows with the 'best and finest' the empire has to offer. Networking, hmph."

She pushed the three tickets into the middle of the table and looked back at everyone else.

"Thoughts?"

The blonde assistant eyed the tickets, quietly balling her hands into fists.

TAG: @Easy, @Tirin

- - -
Brigand's Barroom, West End

"The way's I see it, Dandy's fast, but he doesn't have the reach he needs whereas Gruk has the strength and the endurance. He can make the moves he needs to make when he needs to make 'em. Strong with sum fortitude beats fast and agile, 'n my book." The cowpoke downed another shot as the bartender and his fellow employee talked about tips.

"Listen, tips, no tips, it's whatever okay. Maybe I don't even drink the full thousand I gave you. If I don't, keep what's left for yourself barkeep. If I do, it's another two-hundred in it for ya, 'kay?" To further punctuate his words, he slapped two hundred crowns on the bar, two bills valued at a hundred each. "You can even take this now if you like. Keep me honest.

"But, even better... I bet you might want to see me sweeten the pot right? I don't know about your friend here, but you wanna go see that fight, right?" The cowpoke pulled out what Diarmuid recognized immediately as tickets to the match later that night. On the bottom of each were symbols of the empire, marking the ticketholders as VIPs.

"We make a bet of some sort, here, now, whatever you want it to be and you get what's left of my thousand at the end of the night, that two hundred, as well as these tickets, in time for you to leave of course.

"Got any ideas, eh?"

TAG: @Jeroth, @Shizno
 
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coolpool2

Savage AF
The Original Gangster
What a headache. She stares at the elf with a mix of annoyance and boredom. Her eyes narrowing a bit with a sigh. For a moment her eyes darted towards the orc beside her at the mention of celebrity. Florina pauses, but then decides not to question it. There’s no point in making this more complicated. Let’s just get this over with. “Yes, this was quite... unfortunate. But such is simply fate. I do not hold it against the store that I was caught up in this incident.” She sits up straight as she talkes, her annoyed gaze unwavering. After a moment she lets out a sigh, a tiny bit of the annoyance disappearing from her face. “I’ll accept your compensation, I am sure such an incident will not happen again. Now if you’d excuse me I would like to take my leave.” She looks at the ticket in her hand before securing it away. She was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Although her face and body did not show it, there is a lot going through her mind. Why can’t I just have a quiet life? She tries her best to hold back the growing annoyance inside of her. To be filmed moving around headless was an embarrassment. Even if in today’s time people forgot about news rather quickly, there is no telling how much attention it would gather. She shudders for a moment as a thought came into her mind. Gods, I hope this doesn’t become one of those “Meme” things. If it goes viral she could never live it down, at least not until the next lifetime after everyone who had seen it had died. Still, there is a silver lining. Florina tries not to think about it too much, and looks forward to the boxing match. Nothing like a good fist fight. Been a while since I’ve seen the Dandy Man fight. I suppose it would be a fitting way to celebrate the end of the war.

TAG: @Pony Slaystation
 

Kratoury

Active Member
Member
"Well we could always just make it a personal match if you-" Rosalia hesitated as a hand was placed on her arm and, for just the briefest hint of a moment the air seemed to ripple just above her left shoulder. But she recognized where she was and she recognized her brother, and the ripple in space faded as she allowed herself to be led off by her elder brother. She took a bit of a breath and huffed it out in annoyance as she was pulled away however, somewhat agitated to not get to continue her conversation with what amounted to her formal mortal enemy. Not that she particularly held a grudge, mind, it was just amusingly cathartic to butt heads with him.

Once they were a respectable enough distance away, Rosalia turned her head to lock eyes with Laurence. "Laurence, my sweet, you seemed almost alarmed. Whatever could be the matter, if I may be so bold as to ask?" There was a bit of wry amusement sparkling in her eyes as she asked, but if nothing else she was at least acquiescing towards the new president which was probably pretty good for making him a bit more comfortable with his newfound authority. "Honestly, it's not like I was actually going to come to blows with him." She brought one hand up to rub thoughtfully at her elegant chin and then, almost as an after-thought, added, "Well certainly not fatally anyways."

TAG: @Requiem, @Truth
 

Pony Slaystation

Member
Member
Evermart, South End

Barohel thanked the manager and assured him, really, it was no problem; if anything, he was the one who should be apologizing for disturbing the peace. Still, it was dishonorable to turn down a gift, so he graciously accepted the grocery credit and the ticket and made himself scarce.

Once he was sat safely in his car, he pulled up his mobile browser. To be perfectly honest, Barohel had no interest in watching the fight, in person or on TV. He'd seen more than enough blood for one lifetime. But that put him in a very, very small minority. It was no secret that these tickets had sold out minutes into the presale. That made it all the more suspicious that an Evermart manager (a) would be so willing to part with them for free, and (b) had them in the first place. Given the benefit of the doubt, Barohel assumed it was a hail mary of a PR stunt. Footage of the fight was undoubtedly circulating online already. The video wouldn't reflect poorly on Evermart as a company, but if Evermart showed the victims legendary compassion and customer service, and if those victims happened to share the incident online...

If that was the gameplan, the manager's one critical mistake was passing up a photo op and the chance to make the post himself. The fight was in a few hours, but there was no chance that would affect prices. Not for this kind of once-in-a-lifetime event. Undercutting the scalpers would still make a small fortune, and that's exactly what Barohel would do.

TAG: @Requiem
 
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Dunsparce

Well-Known Member
Member
Outer Poria, South End, Park

Drokk becomes angry. Angrier than he'd ever been. When trolls become angry enough, they enter a transcendent state called "berserker rage" where they channel intense destructive power, both physical and magical, far beyond their normal ability, however, they lose a lot of self control while berserk.

Drokk's muscles swell, his veins become varicose and his eyes glow red, but he can't do anything. The power Drokk just unlocked cannot be used by him, and will instead be used by the demon. This makes him even angrier. If he could just get one iota of control back, he'd rip the demon straight out of him and tear its soul to pieces.

Suddenly and uncharacteristically, Drokk's rage subsides and his body returns to normal. This is perhaps the only situation where his genetic disadvantage to berserker rage would actually be a benefit. If the demon had possessed a troll of any other caste, it would have far greater power.

"Well, demon, I have two questions for you: who are you, and what do you want with my body?"

Drokk suppresses the urge to swear and scream, he knows it could only hurt his situation.

TAG: @Requiem
 
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