Long Game 3: Blackwater Village

[Peng the Just]

A bell rings, signaling the start of the town meeting.

 

Anyone who isn't there already, roleplay your way over to Cyrus's hovel. Also, sign-ups are still open, I just thought I would advance the storyline a little bit.

[Lanscaper]

At the ringing of the town bell Mabi sadly left her seat which gave her a beautiful view of the young muscular working men moving packages between Bartson's tavern and their wagons.

 

Cyrus was probably calling a town meeting.  Probably in response to the horrible events that had recently taken place.  It was unfortunate that it had happened as some of the…victims were rather generous patrons and had provided for her more than once.

[Swimmingly]

Lents finishes the final piece of engraved scrollwork. His cannon is ready. Each of Lents's joints are sheathed in machinery, clasped to fly off at the slightest Push or Pull. It's time to see what's going down in this town.

Perhaps he should wash. He hasn't done that in a while.

Nah. Lents scuttles out of his shop, creeps around the perimeter of the square, and sidles into Cyrus's, whirring and clanking audibly the whole time.

In retrospect, perhaps the clockwork mask was a little much. He's getting some odd looks.

[PorridgeBrick]

Stuff

 Ah! Such harsh accusation, it pains greatly Forage's heart. To know even his dear friend Meta suspects him thus, it is unbearable. Surely this great detective must know the danger of thieves? Such valued wares as Forage sells are of value beyond compare. He alone is of requisite skill and valor to brave the most distant wilds for his customers: he alone is so devoted to their every need. To have them available so easily at the front door would be foolish, and while Forage is known by many names, fool is not one of them. Rather, he is possessed of great towering intellect, though he is wise and humble enough to not flaunt it. His true wonders are not in his first room: it is a decoy, distracting the thieves and serving as previews for customers of the greatness they can obtain inside. Who would keep Lerasium in a place stumbled so easily into, as Monsieur demonstrated with such remarkable grace? It is also his site of lesser treasures: metals for allomancers, keepsakes from city life collected by his wall-climbing cousin, and much more of more common, though still valuable, origin. Only Forage knows the way into the other rooms, for only Forage can keep safe his best wares. To let others inside would be to taunt Forage's great and evil Adversaries.

To Forage's other dear customer: Forage is sorrowful for Joe. That he understood not the capabilities of his purchase is a tragic mishap. But Forage knows still that he is not in the wrong in this encounter. Joe remembers the fine print on the label of the forge, no? That it comes without an Aon Rao power charger? It was Forage's assumption that his fine client understood in full the terms of their transaction, outlined as it was by Forage. While Forage has now come to realize that this was not the case, he cannot be held accountable for another's error.

[Edgedancer]

So much to distracting the noble but still when the boss calls you come to him. Whatever Cyrus wants to announce a Skaa holding the town meeting would not help with the charade. Dane didn´t even bother with excusing himself, with a bit of luck Vizzini might feel insulted enough to not research the gathering, although he seemed to much like an oddball for that. He non the less keep up his regal way of walking as long as he was in the newcomers field of sight. After leaving a safe distance between them his posture relaxed visibly.

Boss as good of a leader you are we ought to work on your timing.

[Aspren]

"Aha!", Asp shouted to no-one in particular as he barged through the door to Forage's shop. "That's all a FALSE LIE! Actually, I bet Lead-mistings are the strongest of all. In fact I, in one of my past lives, did a study on it, or rather several studies. In fact there was actually a whole canton dedicated to studying Lead-mistings."

 

He had begun to glare at a large marble bust of some nobleman while saying this.

 

" There was only one problem facing this alternative me, no wait, there was a multitude of problems facing him, no her. Did I mention he being I was a she? This didn't daunt me though, both being a woman and having obstacles to face, there were no obstacles capable of impeding my great mind, or any of my minds for that matter. Did I mention that I had multiple minds?"

 

At this point he had begun waving his arms around as if fighting off a swarm of insects.

 

"Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, the multitude of unsurmountable problems that I would surmount. Foremost of these problems was that nobody could actually find a Lead-misting. You see us Lead-mistings, while certainly being the most powerful mistings, are also the most rare. Also Lead-mistings are the most powerful mistings. Did I mention that Lead-mistings are the most powerful of all? Also, the...   uh, I forget where I was going with this. Either way, you were clearly mistaken!"

 

With that said he swiveled around, grabbed a large hat off of a rack, and sauntered out.

Edited February 26, 2014 by Aspren

[Peng the Just]

It is said that Cyrus has eyes and ears throughout the village, and nothing draws his attention faster than lawbreakers.

 

A coin hits the ground in front of aspren, and Cryus comes flying down of a nearby rooftop, Pushing off the coin and landing softly in a crouch. "there will be no stealing in this village, son" he says calmly. Then he takes the hat off of Asprens head and takes it back into the store. Having returned the hat, he picks up his coin and takes off in a pewter enhanced dash back to the town meeting that he called.

[Gamma Fiend]

Gamut didn't quite know what to make of all the chaos going on around him. Just a few days ago, the town had seemed so peaceful and quiet. And now everyone was running around, making wild, outrageous claims and were rabble-rowsing back and forth. It was anarchy. And Gamut loved anarchy.

"'Ay, maties. I dunno about ye, but I savvy Cyrus as our coxswain, and when he calls us all to a meeting and starts flying around like a Mistborn, we should all heed his words."

Maybe it was because Gamut was heavy in the spirits, but his old dialect and mannerisms had started to come back out. And Cyrus spoke with such authority, it was certain who was the Captain of this here town, so Gamut promptly fell in line. And besides, maybe Cyrus would be impressed with Gamut and name him provost.

Somebody needed to be in charge of discipline around here. It couldn't always be left to Cyrus to prevent petty theft.

[Macen]

Mac was standing outside of the door of Forager's shop looking at a stone medallion he had bought a while back from the peddler. He had claimed that it would prevent any allomancy from effecting him. In order to afford it, Mac had saved nearly two months wages from helping out around town.

If the Medallion was as worthless as Meta claimed he would be as vulnerable as when... NO, better not to think about that...

At that moment someone walking out of Forager's bumping into Mac. He looked up and realized everyone was headed over to Cyrus's... What could be going on? 

 

Having nothing better to do, he decided to follow.

Edited February 26, 2014 by Macen

[Dalinar]

The bell rung, piercing Arst's thoughts, and he stood up from the rock which had been his seat. Arst started trudging toward Cyrus's hovel, following some other villagers. The others were moving there, and he disliked missing meetings. Questions would normally come afterward, about what he was doing, and Arst liked keeping those details to himself.

[Aonar]

Gah, I'd love to sign up for this one, but I'll be in Costa Rica for ten days in the middle of it, and judging by how enthusiastic people are already, I'm not going to enjoy catching up on the 20+ pages that'll be here when I get back.

Edited February 26, 2014 by AonarFaileas

[Alvron]

Hearing the bell toil Alon hurried his workers into unloading the last of the goods.  Once done he hands out the crews pay for the week.

 

"Blasted noble. Why can't he hire some flaming warehouse workers?"

 

Heading over towards Cryus' hovel Alon lights his pipe.  What crazy proclamation is he going to give us now?  Hope he has enough seats this time.

[el_warko]

Wark woke with a start.  His head didn't hurt which was a bonus,though his mouth tasted like ash and felt like Baldricks coat.  Grimacing he stood up and left the shack. 

 

"Now whoiy are ahl those parple 'eadin' ovah to Sy'russ'is?" he said scratching his bum. 

 

He shrugged "Farst thangs farst" and he wandered round the back of the shed.  He fed the chickens and colleced the eggs.  That Forage must be a magician, Wark thought, said he got them from a place called Shee'no'varr or somesuch. North West of Terris? Must be North West of Terris Wark thought.

 

Wandering back into the house he fed Baldrick the remains of yesterdays breakfast.  Baldrick wandered over, licked Warks hand, looked at his breakfast and sighed in a doggy manner.  "Oi now, danh't be loike that, that's a good squirrel and turnip tagione roight thar, yeh fahvorit' 

 

Wandering over the stove he used the poker to stir up the embers and place a heavy bottom suacepan on the top. He used three eggs to make an omlette, sprinkling a light dusting of Black Faryn over the top.  He cracked the last one into his mug of stout and downed it in one pull. He ate his eggs in silence.  Baldrick had finsihed his and his tail was thumping in time with the bell.

 

" Ah tarht's betta!.  Bast see whaht tha fuss is aboit"

 

Pulling on his trousers and vest, Wark headed towards Cyrus's to see what was happening. 

Edited February 27, 2014 by el_warko

[18th Shard]

Xaneth walked slowly to the square, not drawing attention. He knew what this meeting was about and he was afraid of the severity that calling a meeting would mean. After telling Cyrus of Asp's thieving, he strode into the square and stood at the one spot you could see the whole square from.

Edited February 27, 2014 by 18th Shard

[Mailliw73]

Maill, by all means use the Elimination count. Glad you like it. I'm a little jealous that you already have some stats while I'm still waiting to get my first. Hopefully I can get a green count soon.

Thanks! I hope I can get one this game. Fingers crossed.

She backtracked a bit catching up to Maw sauntering the last few steps, "I'll be by a bit later." She whispered, "And besides, the prospect of a single room is no bother to me, and two people in the same room is much cozier and warmer, especially with the nights getting colder. It's also a more efficient arrangement."

Maw smiled after Mabi, hoping she would take up his offer soon. A vivid and awful memory flashed in the dark recesses of his mind and his face darkened instantly. Thats from another life. After all, I haven't always been a farmer.

Seeing Asp walk out of Forage's store with a het, yet having exited too quickly to have bought it, Maw was annoyed that he would steal. If robbers would work hard, they wouldn't have to steal.

He followed Asp, intending to confront him, when Cyrus dropped out of the sky and took the hat back. Well, I'm glad that's cleared up then. To Cyrus's hovel, it is, then.

Edited February 27, 2014 by Mailliw73

[Aspren]

"Help! I'm being compressed!" Asp shouted after Cyrus "Look! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Violence Inherent in the System!!!"

"damnation you Cyrus! What gives you the right to be in charge here? People shooting coins is no basis for a system of government!"

 

Quiteing down he began to grumble to himself as he made his way to the meeting.

 

"What is this, heh? Nothing but a fascist commune. And not even an edible one at that." 

Edited February 27, 2014 by Aspren

[el_warko]

"'Old up Hasp!"

 

Wark jogged to catch up. 

 

"That were a moighty foine 'at you was wearin'.  Brought out the roight'us in'dig'nar'shone in your eyes roight nicely it did".

 

Wark takes a pull from his hipflask and offers Asp a pull.

 

 "Oi'll nevah get youst to 'im floyin' an' dashin' about loike thaht.  Roight un'aht'ral thaht be".

 

"Now, if yah'll excuse me, I think oil'll see if Maw 'as me pay.  Oi clarhed foive field fah 'im yas'ta'dee"

Edited February 27, 2014 by el_warko

[Mailliw73]

Maw heard Wark behind him, in that barely-intelligible accent, and turned. "Wark! Come here! I have your pay from yesterday; those fields you cleared earned you a full thirty boxings." Maw shouted back. Wark was drunk quite a bit and sometimes lazy, but Maw couldn't deny that he did help out quite a bit around the farm.

Five years ago

Maw's wife had just had their first baby, a daughter. Their house, which doubled as a bookbinder's workshop and library, was filled with the loud cries of the infant. A sharp rap sounded on the front door and Maw went to answer it. When he was a short distance away, it was slammed open and a figure in a dark hood stood there. Maw froze.

Edited February 27, 2014 by Mailliw73

[el_warko]

"thurty boxings?, thank yeh Maw"

 

counts on his finger

 

Idiot he thinks to himself, 6 boxings a field at five fields he only owed him 20 boxings!. Wark quickly pocketed the extra 10 boxings in case Maw changed his mind.

 

Getting more than he deserved wasn't new to Wark, though the last time it had happened it came at a terrrible price.

 

Five Years Ago.

 

Wark was nervous as he waited in an alley behind the foundry. It was night, the mist didn't scare him per se, but those about in it did. Not the mistwraiths, they were harmless, it was those that walked among them that caused him fear.

 

"Evening Wark" came a silken voice from behind him. Wark tensed up. He knew that voice. What was she doing here?

Edited February 27, 2014 by el_warko

[Mailliw73]

Maw watched Wark quickly pocket the money as if he feared Maw would take it back. Doesn't he know I am a man of honor and of my word? Maw thought indignantly. Stupid drunk.

I like how you did that right after mine. It fit pretty nicely. They complement each other.

[A Joe in the Bush]

To Forage's other dear customer: Forage is sorrowful for Joe. That he understood not the capabilities of his purchase is a tragic mishap. But Forage knows still that he is not in the wrong in this encounter. Joe remembers the fine print on the label of the forge, no? That it comes without an Aon Rao power charger? It was Forage's assumption that his fine client understood in full the terms of their transaction, outlined as it was by Forage. While Forage has now come to realize that this was not the case, he cannot be held accountable for another's error.

Joe looked up as A street Urchin Walked into his Shop, making the Door ring the Bell that the Clever Tinker Had Installed.

 

"What Is it Boy? Can't you See I'm Busy Examining this Forge? There's no Words on it! What does he mean Fine Print! There wasn't even a Label!

 

"Well Sir," the boy Started, "Cyrus Called a Town Meeting, Everyone's heading over there Now. Cyrus said he'll wait for you though."

 

"Ah, Very Good" I hope he'll wait for my Cousin, he still hasn't Arrived in Town. Where could he be? "I'll head over there Presently, Now then Boy, I'll give you 10 boxings for the Message, and another 30 if you set up a Display for my Brand new Adamantine Beads, and another one for the 10 Genuine Shards I've collected."

 

"Yes Sir!"

 

"And see if you can round up a Couple of Vials of Lead for that Crazy Spren." Then Joe walked out of his shop, the boy was trustworthy after all. It was Time to see what his old Friend Cyrus had in store for them.

 

Seriously though, my Friend is planning on Signing up, He's just Absent minded.

And Forage, Can you Beat Adamantine Beads and Shards?

 

EDIT: Woops, Just realized his name was Forage, Not Forager

Edited February 27, 2014 by The Only Joe

[Peng the Just]

Cyrus stood up. "I'm sure most of you are aware of why I called this meeting. People are dying."Four year old Suzanne, with her throat slit as she slept, Tov the erand boy, found dead in the streat with his head cracked in, and old Yeb found in his rocking chair, still rocking with his head on floor beside him." He shuddered at the memories.

 

"We need to find who is doing this, and put a stop to it." He began to pace back and forth "My information has lead me to believe that I will be the next target, and that the muderers-" the crowd gasped at the plural  "yes, I do beleive there are multiple murderers, working together-will strike tonight. I also believe that the murderers are not interlopers, but residents of our village. Tonight, when they come, I will be ready" he held up a vial of metals and swished around the contnets for all to see. "I am currently taking volunteers to help guard me tonight and catch the killers in the act."

Edited February 27, 2014 by jasonpenguin

[Macen]

Mac grunted at the request Cyrus had made and thumbed his stone medallion. If what Forage had sold him was a fake, there was little chance he was going to put himself between a Mistborn and a serial killer. He might stay around just to see how it all unfolded though...

Edge, I couldn't agree with you more.

Edited February 27, 2014 by Macen

[Edgedancer]

Things were going downhill and fast. Sadly, Cyrus was right, killing him would be the most effective way of hurting them and someone was most definitely out to hurt them.

Dane flipped his cane over his shoulder, seemingly casually, and joined Cyrus in front of the crowd. Letting others notice his nervousness could only worsen the situation.

"I will do my best to aid you, Boss." Even though the thought of Cyrus dieing hit Dane hard he managed to keep his voice controlled and smiled slightly, as if the situation was hardly worrying. "Without you this would be a rather sorry place. Regrattable as it is fighting was not one of the things you thought me, so we are going to need some help with this." Now Dane turned towards the rest of the villagers. His cane propped on the ground and his hands folded atop of it.

"Well then friends. Come on up, all of you who can help should join the two of us. You own that to both him and yourselfs."

I certainly can´t fight well but I should be able to help with words.

 

Writting this feels weird when I don´t know on which side I am.

Edited February 27, 2014 by Edgedancer

[Swimmingly]

Lents stands quietly, absorbing the information, the comforting tick of mechanics sounding in his ear.

He hadn't heard of the deaths.

A true mechanist's time was too valuable for details like that.

Almost made Lents regretful, choosing this path. But few men who weren't allomancers could shoot a piece of metal through your throat from twenty feet, and the mechanisms wrapped around Lents' joints and limbs would do that and much else. His clockwork mask ticked, responding to tiny jaw movements, turning a complex array of sights over his eye, lining up each person in the room for a shot. He could kill them all in moments, so long as something didn't break and nobody was an Allomancer of note.

Not that he would though.

Not that he would.