Long Game 3: Blackwater Village

[Lanscaper]

Mabi looked at the other villagers, many of them showed apprehension about an impending attack on Cyrus.  She had lived in this village since near the founding, being in one of Cyrus' later campaigns to free plantation skaa.  The normalcy of city-like life was a reminder of younger days, and with Cyrus gone destabilizing the foundation for city life she felt as if she were about to relive the nightmare that had landed her as a plantation skaa over a decade ago.  She certainly did not want to see Cyrus dead, but what was she to do?  Fight?

 

Her skills were with needles and thread.  With pouring beer and walking a straight line while innebriated and balancing a tray of beers.  What good would that do Cyrus, a Mistborn with access to the powers of eight Allomantic Metals.  She didn't even understand all those different powers.  She liked to think of herself as blessedly normal, and what could a normal person do to help a man that had powers far beyond her understanding?

 

You could lend him your support. A small voice said from within her.  But what support would that be?  Fix his clothes after they had been damaged in a scuffle in the night?  Serve him a beer as he died?  She wouldn't be able to protect him without risking her own life.  Perhaps the most good she could do would be to serve as a living shield, but that was far more than she was willing to give.

 

Still she owed so much to Cyrus and this town.  Would it be so bad to give her life for something like that?

 

Her inner conflict continued to swirl around in circles, indecision plaguing her.  When Dane, the resident confidence man and fake nobleman, stood up saying that he would do his best to aid Cyrus it struck Mabi as one of his gestures.  Something that was natural to him.

 

For Mabi, what would her general response be if not for the wanton death and chaos that seemed to be plaguing their small township.  She ought to be pleasant, she ought to be optimistic.  But that was hard when facing potential violence.  Midst her minds thoughts she found her answer, her 'normal' response.

 

She sought out Maw telling him in a solemn tone, "Sorry Maw.  I think I'll have to visit your house another time."  She paused still trying to find the right words for what she had found within herself, "Cyrus, he needs the support from all of us wherever he can find it.  So I'm going to support him by staying at his home."

 

She walked up to Cyrus with as much confidence as she could muster, trying to hide the doubts and fears that she had.  "Cyrus dear!  Dane makes a good point, we should lend what aid we can to each other."  She smiled letting her tone brighten a bit, "Perhaps you can lend me the aid of your roof?  I'd like to keep you company tonight."

Edited February 27, 2014 by Lanscaper

[A Joe in the Bush]

Joe stared at Cyrus in Shock Suzanne is dead? She had been one of the Children who delivered messages and helped out around his shop. He would find her Killer, and Protect his Oldest Friend.

 

"Cyrus, Do you Even need to Ask? I'll help you, With or Without anyone else. We've been Working together for years! And Mac? You're the biggest of us here, I'll pay you 70 Boxings to help us defend our beloved Leader. And Cyrus, If you need any more metals tonight, I can send one of the kids to get some from my Shop, I even have Lead and Adamantine if you want them."

[Alvron]

Fools all of them. Standing in front of everyone, saying that they would help. Might as well paint a target on their back now. Alon thought.

Tapping out his pipe, Alon crushed the embers underfoot. I'll help guard Cyrus but I'll do it my way. Giving a barely perceptible nod to Cyrus, Alon straightened, turned and walked off. I may only have my quarterstaff and whip but I know how to use them.

Reaching Bartson's Inn he placed a couple of boxings on the counter grabbed a bottle of red wine and headed up to his room. Might as well catch a few hours sleep while I can.

Man its expensive to live in this town. Giving 40 boxings to a street kid. I remember when they were happy to be given a few clips for their time.

Edited February 28, 2014 by Alvron

[the Gleeman]

Even Vizzini was struck with shock as he drank his cup of wine.

 

"Inconceivable! Why is it that trouble always follows me, I'm just a businessman. I hope Forage gets that knife in; I have a feeling I will be needing it soon,"

 

Now if only he could get some members for his brute squad. He posted a flyer on a nearby tree.

 

BRUTES NEEDED:

WILL SUPPLY BOARD AND WINE
PAY IS FIVE BOXINGS DAILY

WILL MEET TONIGHT AT MY MANSION

-VIZZINI THE OMNISCIENT 

 

Vizzini really needed a new brute squad. How else would he defend Cyrus and ingratiate himself with the local skaa? Unlike most nobles, Vizzini saw the value in skaa. He believed they were useful, intelligent, and hard-working. He even saw them as living beings! Luckily, the ministries and obligators here did not know of his differing views on their beliefs. He had already been run out of the Eastern Dominance, but this was a new town, a new life. He was safe,for now...

Edited February 27, 2014 by the Gleeman

[Mailliw73]

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

Seriously, I have two alternate back stories for Maw at will be revealed when he dies. I don't know which one to use yet, Though.

She sought out Maw telling him in a solemn tone, "Sorry Maw. I think I'll have to visit your house another time." She paused still trying to find the right words for what she had found within herself, "Cyrus, he needs the support from all of us wherever he can find it. So I'm going to support him by staying at his home."

Maw was a bit disappointed by Mabi's response to his offer, but he understood. Cyrus would need all of their help. "Count me in, sir! I'll defend this town until my death. I wasn't always a farmer." Or a bookbinder, Maw added silently. "I am in your service." Edited February 27, 2014 by Mailliw73

[Lanscaper]

I have no clue either…I'm just trying to write ambiguously.

Edited February 27, 2014 by Lanscaper

[SirVarrock]

Selvar wanders into Bartson's tavern, looking somewhat dazed.

 

"Did anyone see that man?  I was just coming here when something hit my head.  Next thing I know it's tomorrow... er... today."

 

I wish I could be a bit more active in this thread, but my phone is currently in the process of dying, and my new one hasn't arrived yet.  It doesn't help that I've never done any sort of RP before, and that writing wasn't my strong point when I  was in school.  Also, nice signature, Joe.  I was the guy that said pink is free.

[Gamma Fiend]

Everybody seemed to be gathered for the Town Meeting, so Gamut went ahead and made himself useful. Now that he wasn't as drunk, he could put his various skills to use, instead of just trying to talk like a pirate. It just so happened that one of his best skills happened to be List Making^TM. After strolling around the town all day and listening to everybody's conversations as they all filed over to where Cyrus asked them to meet, he had compiled a quick list of everybody and their claimed professions.

List of Villagers:

• Gamut - Ex-pirate. Jack-of-all-trades
•  Clan - Grumpy old farmer
•   Joe - Town Metallurgist
•  Maw - Middle-aged farmer
•  Meta - Wannabe Detective
•  Bartson - Tavern owner
•  Alon - Traveling Tradesman
•  Wark - Scarred *Hopeless Drunk
•  Selvar - Town *THE Doctor
•  Asp - Town Peddler
•  Lents - Town Tinker
•  Dane - Fake Noble
•  Raubber - Town Undertaker
•  Erendi - Liar with a mysterious past
•  Xaneth - Shady Wanderer *Professional Spy
•  Mac - Town Giant
•  Dyrii - Master Thatcher
•  Arst - Town Warrior
•  Forage - Master Merchant (maybe Worldhopper)
•  Vizinni - A Foreign Lord
• Mabi - Town Seamstress
• Chidden - Young Hero

"So here's all the hands I've tallied so far. Now if I missed any of ye, my 'pologies. Just lemme know and I'll fix that right up." He flashed everybody a grin as he nailed the list up and gave them a brief bow, with a fancy flourish of his ragtag cloak. "And just ye laddies remember. This only be one of me many skills."

 

Edited March 1, 2014 by Gamma Fiend

[el_warko]

"Oi carn garan'tee Oi'll be drunk. Oi carn't garan'tee Oi'll be any yoose but yer carn count meh in. Juss troi an' keep yer floy'in an yer mind cohntrahl an the loike AWAY frum meh"

 

Getting involved screamed against the very fabric of Wark's nature. When he responsible people died. With any luck he might die this time. Did he want too? He was unsure.

 

Four years ago:

 

Wark was still in contant pain from the explosion at the tin smetler though he had healed well enough to walk. The batch had got too hot and the coke used to remelt the slag covering the molten tin had been too wet. The results had been spectacular and fatal. Maggy still couldn't look him in the eye.  Looking at her reminded him of his actions.  The twin girls Beth and Bess were too small to understand.  Wark didn't want them too.  In the dead of the night he left kssing his two girls on the forhead.  HE took one each of their scarfs and wrapped the cause of his grief, the source of his shame.  Maggy watched him go, her face a combination of disgust and relief.  Wark headed for the nearest gate slipped out the back door and walked east.  He collapsed in a heap as dawn approached.

Edited February 28, 2014 by el_warko

[A Joe in the Bush]

"Ah Selvar! I remember you! Glad you could make it. So Cyrus, When will you tell us What's going on? You've mentioned Murderers, But do you know how to find them? And Now I ask of the Godly Figure JasonPeng who bought all my Lerasium, Have you Decided to make me a Mistborn Yet?"

[18th Shard]

Shady Wanderer? Please edit to Professional Spy.

 

Cyrus already asked me to come back from the outskirts of town. He already knows he has my support, and my knives.

[Swimmingly]

Lents walked up to Forage. The man was flamboyantly announcing his wares to anyone who'd listen, but Lents bluntly ignored the salesman, administering a small shock to his forehead with a device built for the purpose.

As the master merchant spluttered incoherently, Lents spoke loudly and slowly into his ear. Some compared his voice to grindstones moving in a mill. They were more or less right.

"Forage, I need some parts - axels, gears, anything, sized for something big. Aluminum alloy, if you can get it and I can afford it. The heaviest steel you can find, otherwise. I don't want any allomancers interfering."

The layers of mechanics covering the tinker like a second skin bristled slightly, small jagged edges rising from joints and joins.

"If you don't think I can afford it, it may be the worse for you."

The spines retreated, and Lents turned around and walked off as Forage scrambled backwards. A small mirror in the clockwork mask let him watch the trader carefully, keeping his elbow cannon trained on the man.

Time for the next one.

[PorridgeBrick]

Well- you see- um- arggh, Forage's head hurts, he doesn't like this- um, uhhh..... Forage does not approve of this. To be assaulted so, before the town? It is a blow to Forage's pride as a merchant, his pride as a dealer of stuff. This man, this creature of body and voice robotic, he does not seem right. He is a man of violence, and Forage is but a humble man of peace. Certainly Forage can supply Aluminum aplenty, there is no doubt of that.... but Forage has standards, and highway robbery like this, it violates them. Forage, he says NO to this! Forage is a man of meekness, he is a man of passivity, but he can be pushed too far! This man, he will refuse him! He will not be pushed around and manipulated like a puppet! Forage, he is not just a cog in this man's machine! Forage, he will defend himself if he must! Forage will take back his pride!

[A Joe in the Bush]

Forage! I fully Support you in this! If we let Lent Terrorize one Shopkeeper, He'll attack us all! He must Pay. Cyrus, Lent is robbing people, Do we have a town Sheriff? or is that just you. Technically, if it's you, you're an Illegal Vigilante, but hey, so was Batman. And lent has a Robot suit.

It's Magic-Steampunk-Batman!!!

[Metacognition]

@Joe: I think you mean Steampunk Iron man. 

 

Meta stepped between the crowd and Cyrus. He then turned to face the crowd with a somber expression, arms folded across his chest. He was doing his best to give them all that disapproving look that only a parent could give. 

 

"Right, so this seems like it should be very easy to solve. If you're planning on murdering our beloved leader tonight or any other night, please raise your hand."

 

No hands went up. Meta frowned at the crowd.

 

"That should've worked," he mumbled to himself. "Psychologically speaking, we are programmed to respond to authority figures. That means our murderers are far more insane than I thought. Either that, or the crowd doesn't view me as a figure of authority and that is obviously, preposterous."

Edited February 28, 2014 by Metacognition

[A Joe in the Bush]

No no no. Allomancy is Magic, Lent's Robot suit is Steampunk, and Cyrus is a Vigilante. Batman=Vigilante

 

Magic.

 

Steampunk.

 

Batman.

[Claincy]

Fools. Clan thought. The murderer is certainly in this room. And those blind fools all feel the need to declare that they will stay guarding him so the murderer will know exactly who he or she must face.Feh.

 

"Be 'ware of those who pretend to guard you." Was all Clan said before turning to storm out.

 

"Cursed old legs", Clan muttered to himself as he slowly staggered through the crowd, "can' even be dramatic anymore."

[el_warko]

Wark raised his hand.

 

"Met'a, I waz gahn kill won a me chooks an' do a curry?  Duz thaht cownt?  An' wha'd Clan mean be'warh they 'oo preten'd the gar'din'.  Oi do alh my owhn gar'din'in Oi'll 'ave yeh know.  Oi graw tha bast turnips to beh 'ad thus soide a tha Blak wata" 

 

FYI, if you're familiar with southern english yokel (think Worzel Gummage) , that what I'm aiming for.  If it get a bit much I'll revert to proper english on the solemn oath that you read the text in the spirit in which it's written.

Edited February 28, 2014 by el_warko

[SirVarrock]

"Hot-headed youngster!" Selvar said as he watched Clan leave.  "Would it not work much better to calmly explain your reasonings and then see what happens?"  Mulling over possibilities, he left the town hall and started on his way home.

 

As he was straightening the bow tie he'd seen in Forage's shop and had recently taken to wearing, he came across a town census nailed to the gallows.  "Town Doctor!" he thought indignantly, "I am nothing so common as that."  Before continuing home, he quickly tried erasing the word town.  When that didn't work he remembered that he'd seen some paint a short while ago, and used that to replace "town" with "The."  Satisfied with the paper now, he went home.

Edited February 28, 2014 by SirVarrock

[Mailliw73]

"That old fool, Clan, he thinks he can accuse us for trying to help this village? What is he doing to help?" Maw loudly replied to Clan as he limped out. "Who does he think he is?"

"Lents. An attack was not needed. You could've simply asked. "

Edited February 28, 2014 by Mailliw73

[Lanscaper]

Just realized that Mabi is the only female character...?  Least looking at the list it seems this way.

 

Mabi watched in abashed horror as veiled accusations and violence filled the air.  She was so disappointed in their township.  Cyrus was still alive and breathing and yet chaos threatened to Ruin everything that they had built for the past decade.  And everyone was talking so much so quickly that Cyrus, the person that they were trying to rally around had barely gotten a word in.

 

She stepped a bit to the side of Meta making eye contact with Cyrus, "Cyrus, perhaps you should say something?  Before things get more off topic?"  She paused, "And also let me know if I can stay the night?" she added with a wink.

[el_warko]

A drunken voice starts warbling terribly out of key.

 

"Two meny mist'ers; not ar'nuff sist'ers

Two march toime 'un two meny 'ands

Not a'nuff laydee's, two meny man's"

[Gamma Fiend]

A jaunty, strummed tune begins to accompany Wark's voice, and Gamut adds in a deep baritone hum, turning the out of key, warbled song into something not so unpleasant.

The instrument Gamut was playing was a small traveler's lute, produced out of his cloak with nothing but a flourish. He winked at the crowd again and reminded them that making bawdy music was just one of his many skills, then he went right back into the music.

It was better to keep them busy with merriment and distraction, lest they talk too openly and divulge important information.

You never know who was listening.

[Metacognition]

I'd just like to say that even though people seem to be RPing and such, Sign Ups are still open! 

 

If anyone is reading this that hasn't signed up and wants to, you're more than welcome. Don't let the already established RP scare you off. Trust me, half of the players will forget their personas within a few turns (including, probably, myself).

 

This game isn't scheduled to start until the Devil's Den is finished, so there is still plenty of time. 

[Swimmingly]

And here I was thinking I could get away with putting a socially awkward steampunk vigilante inventor with power armour into Mistborn