The thread which needs a title...

[OOC]
Good going Jarinor there are too many different investigations going on right now in my opinion. If anyone else wants to join this thread, for the love of god! :smile: Please, come up with something else then another lone private-eye.
[/OOC]

"Ahhh..."

6 hours of uninterupted sleep does an old gnome good. That was my first thought as I climbed out of bed.
But my good mood was soon spoiled by an angry knock on the door.
It was the hotel manager. Apparently, my 500 lb. bodyguard had been up to no good during my rest. Leopold had tried to use his druling half-ogre rutine on one of the female members of the hotel cleaning staff. Something she didn't particularly appreciate.
The chaos that unfolded was quite spectacular and most of the fifth floor corridor had been trashed, Including several expensive pieces of furniture and at least 3 original paintings. The hotel manager was quite upset.

"Sir, You are a well-respected guest. But the behavior of you're personal staff leaves a lot to be desired!"
The infuriated managers face was a bright red and a big pulsating vein was beginning to show on his forehead.
I desided it would probably be for the best if I humored him. I didn't want to draw any unwanted attention to me at this time, as you probably understand.

"Settle down old boy, I fully understand you're position. Do you have an estimate on the damage Leopold caused?"
I said as I grabbed my check-book.

The angry manager seemed to cool down somewhat with the news that I wasn't going to argue with him.
"Well, Sir. You're half-ogre caused quite a stir. Most of the public areas on the fifth floor are ruined. Probably at leat 30 thousand gold peices, and the girl isn't too happy either as you can imagine."

"Right, then. Here's the 30, and another 10 for you're trouble. Now leave me and my staff alone, Are we clear?"
I handed him a check for 40 000 gold peices.

The hotel manager grabbed the check with incredable speed.
"Right Sir, No hard feelings. Sorry for bothering you."
He turned around and was gone before I had a chance to say anything else.

I took a shower, got dressed and then grabbed my Hex orb and Derringer. A gentleman is always prepared. After pocketing them I left the room, making sure to lock it. As I got to the stairs, I found Leopold. He was sleeping on the remains of a leather couch, probably exausted after his activities. I poked him with my cane.

"Rise and shine you big oaf! We have work to do!"
The gigantic creature began to move but he was still sleeping.
I was getting more and more irritated and desided it was time to ones again make use of my cane.
"Wake up you worthless waste of flesh!"

I gave Leopold a good whack with the cane, another crack apeared in the mahogany.
He roared but ones again I had made it clear who was the boss, and he obeyed my command.
Rising to his full height, he was now ready to do my bidding.

After a very well prepared 5 course meal. We made our way out. It was getting dark, and it was raining, Wonderful...

I raised my hand.
"Taxi!"

A carrage stopped and Leopold and I climbed on board.

I popped my head out the window and made sure I got the drivers attention this time.

"To the Boothby Elecktrics Lightbulb factory at 56 Devonshire road. You DO know where that is, right?"

The driver nodded, this one seemed more shy then the last one.

"Right then, Go! Don't spare the whip!"

And we where on our way...

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Flink on 2002-03-07 12:54 ]</font>

 

[OOC]
Damnit!I wanted that Fatman would come to Dugant's office and meet me but Sheriff he doesn't post here for a long time :sad:
[OOC]

So Boothby was the one who hired the killer?
I went out.First I went to have some lunch,then I went to Harry,the man responsible for agents' ammunition.A fat,funny halfling.
"Hey Harry!I need some ammunition.Can you help me ?"
"Of course Richy, my boy!What you want?Some big babies or some smaller ones?"
"Smaller this time.I don't even know if I'll need to use them but if a gnome is involved I'll probably have to. Give me a pair of .40cal ,some stun grenades and a small mechanical dagger"
"Okey dokey!Going stealth again?"
"I hope it will be only stealth "action" hehe"he handed me my weapons.
"Good luck Rich!"
"Thanks!I'll need it!"
I went away to the Boothby's factory in Devonshire road hoping to find some evidence.
As I came to the factory it was evening already.People were going home for dinner. I stood near the building's entrance and some bad feeling arised inside me.As if I was going to enter a soon-to-be butcherhouse. Damnit!Those filthy-rich gnome cases were always bloody.

[OOC]
Please don't kill me this time :smile: I'll try not to be so powerful but I hope others won't act supermens too.
[OOC]

 

[OOC]
Whoops, Nevermind this post.
[/OOC]

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Flink on 2002-03-07 12:51 ]</font>

 

[ooc] and Jarinor why do you always complain about my characters being all tough and shit when you wont even allow some of us to find you. Now if I am not mistaken then that is making your character seem real tough that is why I tried to make some new quests.

 

[OOC]My character is only human. He has limitations. He's just very good at what he does. Do you expect someone that is a master of disguise, who has been a successful assassin for many years to be found by a rookie cop? No, only someone like retard's character (the polic chief) would be able to find him. My character is big on planning, suprise and stealth. He's also good with guns :smile:. All I'm saying is, if you re-join the thread, don't contradict yourself, and don't make your character do unreasonable things that they couldn't conceivably do.[/OOC]

 

[ooc] Ok how does a detective sound?

 

[OOC]
Quethim, No more detectives. Please. We have more then enough as it is.
[/OOC]

 

(...)

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Vlad the Imposter on 2002-03-10 14:18 ]</font>

 

[OOC]Okay, guys, can we have some actual action please? I'm waiting for something to happen...[/OOC]

 

I started looking around the building for a way to get in. I found a back door. I put my ear to the door and could hear footsteps on the other side. Well, can't go that way.
Looking across the alley I noticed the building adjacent to this one had a fire escape. I climbed the escape to the roof and assessed the possibilities of jumping to the other roof. I deduced that I could probably make it. I took a running start and leaped. I landed on the roof of the warehouse a little louder than I would have liked. I quickly moved to a skylight. It was locked with a very large padlock. I dug out the lockpicks that I recently acquired and began working on the lock.
When I had just about gotten the lock picked I heard the bolt on the roof door being thrown. I quickly moved around behind an air vent. The door opened and a half-orc guard came sauntering onto the roof. He was looking for something. Damn, they must have heard me downstairs. I waited until his back was turned to me. I stood up and closed the distance between us, drawing my axe at the same time. Coming up behind him I struck. The axe found its mark, lopping off the half-orc's head.
I dragged the body to the corner of the roof, removed his coin purse, and wiped my axe on his tunic. Reattaching my axe to my belt, I walked over to the door and slipped inside, closing it behind me. I did not bolt it in case I needed a quick escape.
I was on the second floor of the building. It was similar to a loft, extending only halfway across the building. There were a couple of empty offices on this level. I could see a light on the first level in the far corner. I made my way passed the offices to the edge of the floor. I climbed the rail and pulled myself up into the rafters. I quietly made my way to the far corner. Twenty feet below me I could see a shadowy figure leaning over a table looking at a rifle. Behind the table were a sour looking man and the gunsmith. I could also see a couple of half-ogre and half-orc guards standing around.
I couldn't help but wonder if the shadowy figure was the shooter from yesterday?

 

As I approached the familiar blocky building where Dugant had his offices the twilight was deepening. It seemed like ages ago that Jobriath and had parted, but it had only been the time taken by my short Steamrail journey.

I knew that the bureacrats in the employ of Dugant's estate would have left by now. They were all Gnomes and were always treated with kid gloves by the oligarchy. Unlike my brethren. There was a night watchman, though, so I'd have to be careful. Fortunately he'd not question a half-ogre, given our frequent comings and goings, and I doubted he'd know which me from the other guards.

I rattle the glass-panelled door brazenly, and found it to be unlocked. I called out as I pushed it open "Anyone here?"

There were sounds of shuffling movement from within, and by the time I reached the foot of the staircase, the watchman - an elderly halfling - had emerged into the hallway from his backroom.

"Wassit?" he said groggily. I must have caught him napping.

"Key for Lord room." I demanded, gruffly imitating one of my cranially challenged colleagues, "Now!"

The old man fumbled hastily with the keys at his belt, and sent them jangling across the floor clumsily. Under my glare, he dropped to the floor and scrabbled with them, finally thrusting one above his head, whilst flinching the rest of his body away. I plucked the key from his grasp, and bounded up the stairs, which flexed and bowed with each heavy step.

At the second floor landing, used the key to unlock the small, but richly adorned, polished oak door. Crouching, I entered and was able to rise again within the cluttered room beyond.

I paused to consider my strategy. Finding something to link Boothby to Dugant should be easy. They had jointly produced that generator, after all. Finding evidence of patent stealing would be harder, if it was even possible.

Going for the easy option first, I hit the contracts cabinet. A few moments later, I had two production contracts, agreeing Boothby would supply certain specialist parts for the B&D generator.

That done, I turned my attention to the correspondence trays. I vaguely remembered Dugant grouching about some small time inventor, who was being "unreasonable and perilously stubborn" by refusing to sign over his creation to the grasping old goat. Shuffling through the papers in the tray I skimmed some letters for anything that might relate. It wasn't easy; I hadn't ahd much call to exerise my reading skills, and the the letters were in several different scripts.

From downstairs, I heard voices. I stop still. After some indistinct mumblings, barely recognisable as coming from the watchman, a voice I didn't recognise was raised in surpise, followed by some footsteps on the staircase. I grabbed the bundle of letters I in the tray I was currently on, and thrust them into my waistband, and tried to think how to avert disaster.

The newcomer would be a Gnome, and would ask all kinds of questions. I panicked and rush to the door, stopping it with my large frame. Someone outside tried it, but it I kept it immobile.

"Hello? Who is in there?" asked a peevish-sounding voice from the other side. "Open up!"

I realised, I may have made a mistake. Maybe I should just go out and play dumb, but I'd never be able to get away with the papers. I didn't know what to do.

"Call the constabulary, watchmen!" the unknown voice shouted, sounding as if it were directed away from the door. Seconds later, there were calls of the watchman in the street outside.

I started to sweat. This office had no other exits. I couldn't think what to do. I'd never been in a situation like this before.

Pulling a desk toward me, I pushed it up against the door. To make sure, I piled another couple on top of it. Then I stood in the middle of the room wracking my brains. Suddenly, I noticed a skylight, set into the ceiling not far above my head. It looked very narrow, but it would have to do.

I popped the latch and let the cover swing down towards me, then pushed my hands out onto the cold, rough surface of the roof above. Taking hold as firmly as I could, I heaved myself up. The frame creaked alarmingly, but held as I pulled myself, belly first, out onto the rooftop.

It was full dark now, mercifully, although Tarants usual dazzling array of street lamps hand come to life below. I made my way to the back of the builing and looked down. There was one of the ubiquitous dark Tarant back alleys below me. I couldn't see it clearly, so it could be filled with watchmen for all I knew, but sounds of heavy thudding from the doorway I had blocked encouraged me to leave.

I got onto my stomach and slid my lower body out from the roof. Lowering myself, I was eventually hanging by my finger tips. With nothing else to be done, I dropped to the floor a fairly short distance below.

I stumbled slightly as I landed. Recovering, I looked around, and felt a horrified lurching in my stomach as I saw the figure of a large human sillouetted in the alley's opening.

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Sheriff Fatman on 2002-03-11 05:12 ]</font>

 

After a short carrage ride we arived at the light-bulb factory at Devonshire road.
I gave the driver a tip for getting us there smoothly.
He nodded but didn't say a word. With a snap of the whip he was off in to the darkness, and soon he disapeared out of view.
The factory loomed before us. While the regular workers where on their way home, there where still at least 30 guards making sure that all my new expensive equipment was safe. As we came closer we where greeted by Robert Windthorp, My son in law. I had given him the task of running the plant. After giving me the grand tour of all the new machinery I was pleased. With all the new-fangled gadgetry I'd be able to supply automobiles to the masses at incredable speed. The orcish workers had already constructed 2 proto-types using these new machines. They where kept secure in a back room of the factory.
After the inspection I and a short chat with my son in law. Then I left, I had more urgent buisness to atend to. My henchmen in the warehouse at 113 Iron Post Row where to get their new orders tonight.
My son in law insisted I take the company carrage, So I did.
And soon Leopold and I where on our way ones more. The warehouse wasn't very far from the factory, So it wouldn't take more then 6 or 7 minutes to get there...

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Flink on 2002-03-08 10:00 ]</font>

 

The Two hours pass and I head over to the meeting place.

[OOC] Jar, Vlad you guys going to meet up pretty soon?[OOC]

 

[ooc]Ok I have an idea, How does me being a cleric who someone has aksed me to revive Dugant sound?

 

A man entered the room with a rifle, and he placed it on the desk.

"Here you go," he said to my supplier, "someone brought this in today. I just sold it to someone else the other day."

"Well, I'm not the buyer this time," the supplier said. "He is," he finished, indicating me.

I moved to the table. Egads! It was the rifle from last night. Someone must have picked it up afterwards. Oh well, it was a damn good rifle, and I'd regretted the need to leave it behind. I tossed yet another bag of money on the counter for the rifle, and the strange man scooped it up faster than I could see.

I heard a sound in the roof above. A slight creak that shouldn't have been there. Whipping out my pistols, I pointed them into the shadows where the sound had come from.

"Alright, lad, come on down and you won't get hurt. Try and run, and I'll find you, and then you will get hurt."

I started moving around, to give the intruder an idea that I knew precisely where they were.

 

As I was going to find a way to enter the busy factory I saw a taxi carriage arrive. Boothby and his huge bodyguard stepped out the carriage. They went inside. Something big was going on if Boothby himself has come here. I saw a half-orc guard leave the factory. He was going to smoke. As he stood in the alleyway I silently walked up to him.
I pulled out my revolver and smacked the guard with the gun's handle. He silently tumbled on the ground. I undressed him and put the handcuffs on. Then I dressed as him and hid the body. I also put some dirt on my face so I would look more like a half-orc guard. I went inside. Another gnome was giving Boothby a tour. He was Boothby's son in law. I tried to come closer to them. I heard them talking about the automobile production! I quickly turned on my voice recorder. Boothby's son told Boothby that two prototypes were stored in another room. I unnoticed slipped in and took some photographs of the prototypes. I had almost all the needed evidence. I heard Boothby saying he was leaving. I followed him. He and his giant stepped into the company's carriage and I jumped onto the back of it. We started moving. This time the bad feeling was even stronger...

 

"Alright, lad, come on down and you won't get hurt. Try and run, and I'll find you, and then you will get hurt."

Dammit! I was caught. I could see the man that spoke was carrying pistols. I could also tell that he knew about where I was. And who the hell is he calling "lad"? I was probably 3 times his age!

The commotion had piqued the interest of one of the guards. He was walking over looking up. The individual that originally addressed me was looking up as well. I got a good look at his face, memorizing it for future reference. With that done, I had to get the hell out of there before it got ugly.

There were 2 electric lights in the ceiling and one on the wall in the corner near the table. I silently pulled out two throwing knives. I knew that the shooter knew where I was but I also knew that he couldn't see me. I hooked my knees around a rafter and swung upside down. With both hands I threw the knives at the two lights in the ceiling. As, soon as the knives left my hands I let my legs slide off of the rafters. I tucked into a ball, slowly rotating as I fell, also removing my chakaram from it's loop on my belt. I could hear the tinkling glass as the two lights in the ceiling went out. When I was about halfway down I straighted up and threw the chakaram at the other light. It neatly sliced through the cord as I landed on my feet. The landing was a little heavier than I expected and I was driven to my knees as the room went dark. I reached up and caught my chakaram. That's when the shooting started.

The man with the two pistols was shooting in my direction. I knew he couldn't see me but I could see him. Partially due to infravision and partially due to the muzzle blast of his pistol. I quickly ducked down even lower and rolled near the guard that had come over to look for me. I intentionally made a little noise in doing so to draw fire. The man with the guns blazed away neatly dispatching the guard with 3 shots to the chest.

The other guard whipped open the door to the office and came rushing out. For a moment the room was lit. The man with the guns fired again. This time one of his bullets found it's mark. It ripped through my side like a hot knife. I rolled away and came up throwing. My chakaram caught the guard across the throat just as the office door closed. The gunman fired another volley, not missing by very much. There was a momentary lapse in shooting. I could make out his shape in the darkness. He appeared to be reloading. I sprung towards him and pulled out my axe. I meant to knock him out with a swift smack to the noggin, but he must of heard me coming because he quickly ducked and rolled out of the way. Gods, this guy was good. He came up firing. A bullet hit my axe, ripping it from my hand. I threw my chakaram attempting to dislodge one of his pistols. It glanced off of one as he quickly sidestepped. He fired again, but this time only one gun went off. I didn't dislodge one, but I did manage to damage it. I caught my chakaram and rolled closer to him. I knew that he was shooting by sound and that he could hear me moving around so I stopped dead, just feet from him. I saw his head tilt as he listened for movement. I started to take a step towards him and his head and gun swung around. Like I said, this guy was good.

I could feel the blood oozing out of my wound, but I didn't have time to apply a healing salve. I stood there. He stood there. Suddenly, the front door burst open as the gunsmith bolted out of it. The gunman turned his head to shield his eyes. That's when I leaped. I took two steps and as his head turned back towards me and his gun came up I hit him in the jaw with everything I had and he crumpled.

I grabbed a short piece of rope out of my pack and quickly tied his hands behind his back. As I dragged him towards the office, the front door opened again as the other man quickly fled.

When I got the gunman into the office I searched his person for more weapons. He was carrying a variety of knives and small pistols. He also had a little gizmo that went hay-wire when it came close to my chakaram. It must be a magik meter or something. I went back out and picked up my axe and the gunman's pistols. Once I was back in the office I pulled a healing salve out of my pack and applied it to my wound. Damn, that stings, but I can already see the wound beginning to heal.

I sat back and waited for the man to wake up.

 

[OOC]
Heh, I had thought that we where talking about two differnt warehouses. But thats ok, This can work too. I'd like the drama between Jar and Vlad to go on a bit more before I interupt.
[/OOC]

 

I groaned as my vision swam back into a resemblance of focus. I knew it would improve with time, but damn my head hurt! I had no idea who had actually captured me, but they'd been a good fighter...and had a good amount of luck. If it wasn't for my damn supplier exiting as cowardly as he did, I wouldn't be in this mess. Why didn't he use some of his precious guns to help me? You could bet I was going to get a new supplier after this was over, and the previous one dead.

I had no idea who my interrogator was, and how good they were. He didn't quite look human, but more like an elf...but less so. Half-elf, I decided. I decided to open the proceedings.

"Who are you?"

"Jobriath, Caladonian Intelligence Agency. I'm here to find out about the recent surge in half-ogres, and the connections between Albreck Dugant and William C Boothby."

I laughed inwardly. This guy was an amateur interrogator. You don't tell people what your mission is unless you are stupid or...want help?

"Yeah, what's that got to do with me? You could have just come down, saved me a lot of trouble. I'm amenable to most any suggestion."

"Really...how about this one? If I let you go, you won't try and run until I say you can leave, and you won't call for help."

I snorted at the not trying to run, but I rarely asked for help, and then only in the most dire of situations.

"Alright," I said, after carefully considering it.

The half-elf came around behind me to undo my bindings from my chair. I considered launching a surprise attack, but realised that if he was CIA and good enough to get me, he'd be expecting it. He'd been trying to sucker me in, I saw. One hand was on...ONE OF MY KNIVES! This would just not do.

"Ahem," I started, "can I have my knives back please? It's not good form to use other people's weapons. You should know that."

I settled myself back in my chair, while he went back to his. He pulled the knife, and casually tossed it in my direction. I caught it, almost nicking myself, and re-sheathed it.

"You'll get your other weapons back when we're finished here," he said. "Now, I have a proposition for you. Someone shot Albreck Dugant last night, on the orders of William Boothby."

"What's this got to do with me?"

"Well, the gun that was used is the one you just bought. I followed the man who retrieved it here. Now, I don't know much about guns, but it looks like this is a high-quality one." He picked it up and began inspecting it, looking down the barrel.

"Be careful with that!" I half-shouted. "You want to blow your head off, look down a gun-barrel. I still don't see your point. So I bought a 'murder weapon'."

"The point is, if this gun is as fine as I think it is, you have to be rich to buy it. Now, seeing as you bought it, and your skill with guns, that would lead to the conclusion that you make a fairly comfortable living in some way, and that you are fond of guns. Whether the two are related, I don't know. I want your help though. You help me take out Dugant, you'll get enough money to retire for the remainder of your days from the CIA. Also, I let you walk away, no questions asked. What do you say?"

I smiled. "You're in luck. I was going to kill Boothby myself tonight." CIA agents kept their word, or lost their jobs. I knew that much. "Give me my guns, and let's get going. We have to meet an associate of mine, and we don't have much time."

He pointed to a table in the corner, and I quickly moved over there. My precious guns! None of them had been damaged, in the fight luckily. My hand had simply been jarred when that chakram hit it. Swiftly, I reloaded them, and prepared some 'refills' for the barrels, before holstering them. I sheathed my remaining knife before I pulled on my overcoat.

"We don't have much time." I picked up a chair and threw it out the window, before jumping out into the inky blackness of the night...