The thread which needs a title...

As I make my way down one of the side streets of the commercial district, looking for a deserted weapons shop so I can "acquire" some new throwing knives, I notice a large person hunkered down behind some boxes. As I quietly make my way towards him I notice that he was very large. No, check that, HUGE. A half-ogre. He is obviously waiting for something, or someone. I am about to turn around and get out of there when I notice the insignia on the back of his shirt. It is the crest of the Dugant household. Just at this moment he turns his head slightly. I recognize this guy. He is...was one of Albreck Dugant's personal bodyguards. He brought me food a couple of times. He seemed different than the other hired thugs. For one thing he never smacked me for the hell of it. His speech was also quite good for a half-ogre. It seemed to me at the time that he didn't like his job as much as the others. I wonder what he is doing here. I move a little closer.

I stand watching for a couple of minutes. It is going to start getting light out soon. What time is it? 5 - 5:30 AM? Maybe I should leave. My curiosity is killing me. I have to find out what he is waiting for. I decide to make a bold move. I stand up straight, and with my left hand dangling next to my axe-handle say, "Hey friend, whatca waitn' for?"

As the words were leaving my mouth it hit me. Maybe he's waiting for ME.


_________________
You know what? I'm glad I'm not a laboratory animal. Do you have any idea how many of those little bastards get cancer?


<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Vlad the Imposter on 2002-03-10 14:13 ]</font>

 

There were exactly 5 half ogres. They all charged me once they saw me. I jumped out of ones way and he fell out the door. He then fell down and I slit his throat. The other four decided to charge me all togather. This time I stepped out of the way and they all ran into each other. Two of them recovered fast but the other two were still down. I decided to back stab the one who was not looking at me. Then something grabbed me.
"You will never find a cure to my curse so just go away!"
"I have had enough with you. Now how about we fight each other and mabey if I kill you the curse will be gone?"
"Hahahahahahahahaha"
And then he was gone again. I then finished off the rest of the half ogres. I searched the whole house for about 3 hours and found nothing. I then went back out onto the street.

 

[OOC]Watch out Quethim, you are treading on dangerous ground. Someone as slow as your character (you've stated that they are slow) is not going to be able to kill 5 half-ogres unassisted. Keep that in mind.[/OOC]

I turned. "No," I said to the dwarf, "you're aren't going to be drinking any ale tonight. Not until this business is over. It might be good for you dwarves, but it also muddles your thinking. Not while we have something to do. That gives me an idea though...Wait here."

I crossed the street to another handy tavern. I entered. "Barkeep, fill my flask with ale." I tossed him the flask and several coins. Once it was filled, I went back.

"We're going to get another room for the night, and we're going to pretend we are drunk so we don't arouse any suspicion." I poured some ale on his front, and again on mine. I hoped he was a good actor. I began to stagger up the street, in search of an inn...

 

[OOC]I'll be damned if I'm just going to let this thread die. [/OOC]

Orin and I moved speedily through the sewers. I had a rough idea of where we were going, but Orin seemed to know exactly where we were going. We didn't really have the time to stop and discuss this - I just had to trust my new business partner, and seeing as he was a dwarf, this was easily done.

As we rounded one of the many culverts we had passed, I stopped and grabbed Orin's shoulder. It also happened to be near an area where the sewer water was flowing, and not only would have masked the noise of our travel, but it also masked the noise of us not travelling.

"Wait," I said, "let's see if there's anyone following us. If there is, we get them. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life running from this guy, I don't care who he is."

I drew my knives, and stood in the shadows, slowing stretching and flexing to prepare for a possible battle.

[OOC]Sorry, Maniac, but I do intend to kill your character. I can't really have him following me and dogging my steps. My character just wouldn't allow it. If you can come up with an alternative solution that suits us both, that's great, but otherwise I see no option but to kill your character. Again, sorry about this. I'm not doing it quite yet though. Your character could lose us in the sewers perhaps? Only if that would be in character of course...[/OOC]

 

[OOC]
ThreeDogs:I followed Jar from the start.I hope that makes everything clear for you.
Jar:I have an idea.
[OOC]

I was just ready to jump in to the sewers as some creature ran out a near tavern shouting something about a curse.He looked at me and rushed forwards as mad.He leaped and almost stabbed me in the gut with his blade-ring.I evaded but he hit my left side.
"You bloody bulfie!"I started shooting at him until I needed to reload.He was still alive!
That abomination jumped at me but I quicly pulled out my mechanical dagger and stabbed him in the gut.He hit me in the headI fell to the ground still holding my dagger.Damn he was strong.He jumped on me.I stuck a grenade in his gut wound and kicked him off me while holding the grenade's ring.
"Bye bye fool!"I shouted as I ran away.
YES!!!He blew to pieces.I didn't want atention so I quicly ran to my shack.Also I needed to treat my wound.I lost my prey anyway.For now...But in my shack I had time to think things threw and I remembered what they said about cutting all the ties.Maybe someone will be sent to kill me too.I decided to first talk with them before killing.I reloaded my shotgun,took some more grenades and went outside to look for them.They shouldn't stay in that hole too long, I hoped.
The sun was rising but the sky was gloomy so it was quite dark yet.

_________________
Ahhhhh...fresh meat...

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Oyarsa on 2002-02-28 08:20 ]</font>

 

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: ThreeDogs on 2002-02-26 14:12 ]</font>

 

[OOC] heh, Maniac's post came out while I was writing mine. It can still work but If you don't like it let me know and I will remove the post. [OOC]

 

Why can't I ever get any sleep? All I wanted was just a couple hours at best, but no. I suddenly got jarred awake by the sound of a manhole cover closing. I lifted my head up to maybe get a glimps of what was going on and I heard the sound of someone talking. But I was still tired, so I couldn't make it out.

Groggily I stood up, rubbing my eyes a bit as I began to stumble towards them, trying to fully wake myself up so that I could see what was going on.

 

I hear a noise behind me and turn to see what appears to be a self-propelled refuse heap stumbeling toward us. Well looks mean nothing I draw my scarf around my face and pull out my high velocity pistol. The action makes a beautiful click and the bum stops short.

 

[OOC]
I think you should remove your post three dogs.
[OOC]

 

[OOC]
Hey Jar it's good to know you don't shower with men :smile:
Also I only followed the suspicious drunk to see if he (or you)was the assasin.Maybe I wouldn't have recognised you but ThreeDogs ruined your disguise because I heard your dialogue.
Vlad: cool post.Really nice reading to me.Hope you'll hang longer in the RP forum.
[OOC]

I followed my prey.But always there were other people around.After an hour I saw them pouring ale on each other.
"Oh come on!Not the same disguise again"I though to myself and continued on following them.

 

[OOC] OK it's gone [OOC]

 

[OOC] Maniac- I knew where Jar was b/c our former employer told me so. I don't know what suspicious drunk you followed. Also you would have been told by your employer who and where we were so there would be no need to follow suspicious drunks. Further how did you know that Jar was using the stinky drunk disguise again? Have you been following him from the start? There I think I have sufficiently picky for now. [OOC]

I step back quickly from the ale Lendark tries to pour on me. "Laddie I got enough charged do-dads on me that gettin'em wet might end up blasting this entire block to here after." I fasten up my cloak and then pour a little of the ale on me. Letting just a wee bit fall into my mouth. "Looks like we got company, somebody has been following us since we left the inn. We can loose him the sewers I promise." I growl with a grin. I lift up the nearist manhole and slip onto the catwalk that runs along the side of the main sewage channel. To say the place stinks does the sewer an insult. Acheving this magnitude of stench is an achevment that few ever aspire to. I spot a half chewed hand float by me as I wait for Lendark to decend

 

As I passed one of the side streets on my way to the inn I saw a small fellow - dwarf maybe? - and another larger fellow jump down a man-hole into the sewers. I wonder if they know about all the rats? Oh, well. Man, I have to get some clothes on, I'm friggin' freezing!

As I come up to the inn there are people swarming all over. I can see a gaping hole in the bathhouse wall. "Well, I guess a bath is out of the question," I quip as I step into the front room.

I walk up to the desk clerk who is answering questions shot at him from a couple of detectives. "Pardon me, but I seem to have lost my room key," I interject. He looks at me with disgust, "Sir, put some clothes on! This is a family establishment." I put on my best "Don't fuck with me" face and say, "Give me the key to room 13. Now!" He fumbles around behind the desk for a minute then straightens up and hands me a key. Meanwhile the detectives are eyeing me up. "Thank you," I say to the clerk. Addressing the detectives I ask, "What the hell happened here?" "None of your business," was the reply.

Back at my room I find the place ransacked. Fortunately nothing of importance was missing just some coin and gems that I had stashed for "expenses". I quickly get dressed and put on my armor. I slip on a dark velvet robe and cinch it around my waist with a belt with two specialized hooks on it. My axe fits onto the left hook, my chakaram onto the right. I pull on my velvet soled boots (they wear through quickly but are extremely quiet) and jump out through the window. I don't feel like going through the lobby again and attracting the attention of the detectives. I need to find an inn that doesn't have the bath house blown to shit. I also remember hearing about a bloke down on the poor side of town who "knows things". What's his name again? Diggs, that's it. Well, Diggs you are about to have a visitor. After my bath, that is.

 

I waggled my shoulders again uncomfortably.

Maybe I was just natrually stiff necked. Then again, my discomfort probably had more to do with being forced to stoop everytime I entered a Dwarf's shop. It seemed like I'd been in hundreds of them over the last few hours. Why were so many gun shops owned by Dwarves? When I think of those hairy little maniacs, the main impression is a feral grin set in a huge beard and a large, sharp axe - not a gun. Still, they do like fiddling with machiness and stuff.

The pain in my back would be a bit more bearable if I'd uncovered something. I hadn't. I'd shown the rifle to pretty much every gunsmith in Tarant, only to meet with a string of blank expression or surly dismissals.

Not for the first time, I wondered how hard a 'normal' found this kind of thing. I knew the tampering shortly after my birth had given me more brains than any other half-breed I'd met, but I wasn't sure how I compared to other, non-ogre, norms. It seemed like I could at least hold my own with them, but it was hard to tell because I was normally either forced to play dumb by circumstance, or assumed to be dumb by whoever I spoke to. It's pretty hard to tell how you compare to someone intellectually when there speaking very slowly and using phrases like "Big boy want some yum-yum?"

I started off towards the next gunsmithy. This one had been pointed out to me as nearby by the owner of the one I'd just left. He'd said it was a "specialist," and may not even carry rifles, so I wasn't very hopeful.

As I walked I wondered whether I was going about this all the right way. Maybe there was an easier way that hadn't occured to my half-ogre brain. Surely there was some way to connect the gun to the gunman. He'd had it in his possession, after all.

It occured to me that nature makes all of us unique. It gives us each some attribute, making distinct individuals of us all. Maybe this distinct natural attribute would leave some kind of impression on items in our possession, which could be used to trace it back to the individual. I smiled. If only life were that accomodating - crime would be a thing of the past.

I chuckled to myself as I imagined standing in the dock, explaining my theory to the court. "The evidence is all in the DNA," I'd say, just before they locked me away as a loon.

Coming to the door that had been described to me, I put aside my fancies and stepped in. I had to duck, as usual, but at least it was a human-sized door, and I was able to straighten once inside the dim interior.

The small room was bare. Unlike the others of the many shops I'd seen today, there were no lethal wares hanging from the walls to proclaim the skill of the proprietor. The floor and walls were all bare, unadorned wood. Even the varnish looked faded to the point of disappearance.

Behind a solid-looking, but unadorned, counter-top stood a pasty human with several days patchy stubble. He wore eye-glasses and squinted at me through them. "Yup, whatcha be wantin'?" he asked with a Caladonian twang.

"Is this a gunshop?"

"That's right," he said, visibly entered low-gear to deal with the dumb halfbreed, "This is a gun shop. We - sell - guns!" He finished this last by repeatedly thumbing his chest.

I was used to this and it sometimes helped to play along, "You sell this?" I grunted, thrusting the rifle at him.

Quickly ducking and swerving out of the way, he squeaked, "Hey! Watch careful there! Guns - can - hurt - people." Pushing the barrel toward the bare floorboards, he examined the gun more closely. After a moment, he gently pried it out of my hands for a better look. I let him.

"Hmmm ... I remember you ... hand turned that tube," he muttered quietly to himself as he slid his hands and eyes professionally over the rifle. Finally, he looked up, giving me a searching look. "Where - you - find - this?" he asked.

I considered my options, If I played dumb, he might let something slip. I doubted he was the sort to just tell me if he knew I was looking for the owner.

"Found it!" I stated, trying to sound a bit defensive.

"Found where?"

"In bar!"

"In a bar? You mean you took it from someone in a bar?" he trailed off towards the end and finished meekly, realising that he had just about accused me of stealing.

"Man drunk! He not want!"

"Okay, okay." he said hastily. Then something dawned on him and a sly look crept into his eye "You want to sell this?"

Hoping the man would probably try to return the custom made gun to whoever he originally made it for, I said "Yes! You give gold."

"Well now, I dunno about gold. How about this?" He said reaching under the counter and pulling out a small handful of silver.

As he tried to place it in my hands, I batted it away, deciding to make a show of it. Coins bounced off the lack-lustre walls in all directions. "Gold!" I shouted, "You give gold!"

Hastily, the shopkeeper reached under the counter and pulled out a gold piece, placing it on the surface between us. I grabbed it and grinned a big, and no doubt stupid looking, grin. Without a word more I left the shop.

I made off down the street for a short distance than ducked into an alley and doubled back to the shop. I found a place from which to observe, behind a pile of old boxes on a side street, from which I would be able to see if he left by the front or side exits (there was no back door). I'd wait here a while and see what developed.

 

[OOC]Just curious Maniac. How exactly did your character follow me? Wouldn't it seem more realistic to just have been told where I was staying, the same as ThreeDogs' character? Otherwise, why wouldn't you have done the assassination yourself?[/OOC]

I heard the distant, faint sounds of fighting from above. That would certainly draw the attention of the City Guard, especially after I heard those explosions. Grenades were never quiet, particularly on a fairly tranquil night.

 

I bring my pistol up and wait to see what the bum is going to do. I can feel my trigger finger began to cramp.

[OOC] Geek do something soon, please. Otherwise, bang.[OOC]

 

"Well, thats that." I said to myself as I finished the last page of yesterdays newspaper.

It hadn't been a very interesting read, But a man of the world must keep up to date on current affairs you know.

Now knowing that my greatest rival burning in hell, I was in a very cheerful mood.
I made a gesture with my right hand, and out of the shadows on the right side of the closed lobby bar stepped my titanic Half-Orge bodyguard, Leopold.
He was as dumb as a Kite, but he'd won the title of being Caladons strongest man 4 times in a row...

"Leopold, would you be so kind as to bring my bags down to the carrage? Our work here is done."

"Yeesh, Master!"
He grunted, while cracking his knuckles. As if getting ready to lift a two ton dumbbell.

"Good man, And try to keep it quiet. We don't want to alarm the other guests, now do we?"

"Noo, Master!"
Was the reply, But the Half-Ogre had already started to run up the hotel stairs. His huge feet slamming against the steps, I was suppriced that he didn't wake the entire hotel.

"Honestly Leopold, what did I just say..."
He didn't hear me, he was already 5 floors up and was now wrestling with the monumental task of finding the right key in the chain I had given him.

"Good help is so hard to find these days..."

I said to myself as I pocketed my specially imported pipe tobacco and my dragon-ivory lighter.
Checking my pocketwatch, I now realized that it was almost 5 am.

"Master! I have bags!"
Leopold extaticlly grunted as he came down the stairs twice as loud he'd climbed them.
Normally I would have punished him for this, But I was in to good a mood for that this fine morning.

"Splendid! Just drop them anywhere, the carrage wiil be along in about half an hour."
I replied as I set off towards the dining room.
You see, I had given the Hotel manager, a rather plump fellow by the way... Special instructions to have breakfast served especially for me at this time.
As I sat down, at one of the grand tables in the dining room, I saw todays newspaper, fresh from the print and neatly ironed by the hotel servants. The head line read:

"Alberck Dugant, Famed inventor of the automobile. Murdered in cold blood."

I smiled to myself. I had talked to my contacts in the patent office, The patent was probably mine already.
With Mr. Dugants automobile design, I would probably be able to tripple my fortune in one year. The greedy old sod had refused to partner with my company, Boothby Elecktrics INC. Now, the design, and all the profit connected to it, was mine. ALL mine!

Now, I only had two things left to do before I could return to Caladon. First, take my carrage down to the Tarant Patent office and sign the documents concerning the automobile design. And then make sure to sever any connections I had to the murder...

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Flink on 2002-02-26 17:53 ]</font>

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Flink on 2002-02-26 19:30 ]</font>

 

[OOC] I realize I might be begining to sound like a nag but oh well. It seems that Fatman and Just A Geek both are in possession of the murder weapon and Retard left the murder weapon in Geek's hand, hmmm. [OOC]

 

[OOC]I got this one, fatman, don't worry. Ok, threedogs.. If you read back, FATMAN is the one who grabbed the murder weapon first. When I ran into Just A Geeks char. he said there was a looking glass rifle leaning on the wall. I played along as if that was the murder weapon. In my haste, I forgot that FATMAN was the one who originally got the murder weapon on the roof and he was, until his last post, still in possesion of it. The rifle that was leaning on the wall, I left as it was once I realized my mistake. *As a matter of fact, that rifle might need to be edited out, in order to not cause confusion.* I originally had my char. grab the rifle on the wall, but I edited it out once I realized my horrendous mistake. Clear now? [OOC]