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Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 5027870" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Crisis in Freeport: Part 2 – The First Signs of Trouble</strong></p><p></p><p>Crowds of men argued in the street, and where once trade and commerce took the forefront, it seemed as though everyone was more interested in the council’s decree. Sebastian flew over the city, taking it all in.</p><p></p><p>Shops that were usually open for business were curiously vacant, their windows still shuttered from the night before as their owners and operators discussed the situation. The normal hum of noise that filled the city’s streets was dulled and in its place was uncomfortable, quiet conversations and worried looks passing silently between vendor and buyer. Even the normally bustling docks were curiously calm, and sailors and deckhands leaned against the rails of their ships, lost in their own thoughts.</p><p></p><p>He finally landed on the rooftop near the Shipping News office. A paperboy threw a copy to someone.</p><p></p><p>Sebastian pointed at the flying paper. “<span style="font-family: 'Impact'">Magis attrecto!</span>”</p><p></p><p>The paper changed its course and flew into Sebastian’s hands. To the paperboy, it looked like he had overshot his target. He threw another one that reached the customer unimpeded.</p><p></p><p>Sebastian snapped the paper open. It read: “CAPTAIN’S COUNCIL REVOKES LAW OF SUCCESSION IN POWER GRAB.” </p><p></p><p>The man who read the same headline gathered two of his comrades and stalked down the street towards the paper’s office, a crumpled up copy of the newspaper in hand. Sebastian tracked him from the air.</p><p></p><p>The low murmur of conversation filled the street in front of the office belonging to the Shipping News. The building was nearly completely surrounded by disgruntled-looking citizens, many of whom clutched copies of the special edition in their hands. Occasionally, an angry shout went up from a person in the crowd, but the general mood was that of simmering unease rather than outright anger. </p><p></p><p>After a few minutes, the door to the office opened and a short, round man in garish clothing stepped out into the street. With his appearance, the crowd became much livelier, and within a few seconds, the entire street was filled with the deafening roar of hundreds of shouting people.</p><p></p><p>Cries of “shut this rag down!” and “tell ‘em the truth, C.Q.!” went up, with a chorus of cheers and jeers accompanying each one. Stepping up onto a wooden crate, C.Q. Calame waved the crowd into silence, clutching a tattered cigar between his plump fingers. </p><p></p><p>“Good people of Freeport, be calm and hear me! Today’s edition of The Shipping News is but a window into the inner workings of the Captains’ Council, and I, your humble public servant, seek only to enlighten the masses as to the recent folly of the council’s members. I know that many of you are upset or frightened, and it is as you should be, fore there are those on the council that seek only to fatten their own purses by crushing you under their boot heels. For those of you that disagree with the columns in today’s special edition, I thank you for your patronage but urge you to remember that I am but the messenger.”</p><p></p><p>Several people in the audience began arguing loudly with one another. Then suddenly a ripple of violence spasmed the crowd, as fist fights broke out between the two rival groups. Fists flew, blood sprayed, ad the air was filled with a cacophony of terrified shrieks, clashing blades, and angry shouting. </p><p></p><p>The startled newspaperman was caught in the middle. He turned to the door but discovered it locked. </p><p></p><p>C.Q. leapt down off his box and hammered desperately on the door. “Let me back in!” </p><p></p><p>To angry citizens grabbed C.Q. and pulled him down into the crowd. </p><p></p><p>Sebastian sighed. More violence.</p><p></p><p>He spread his bat-like wings, casting a long shadow over the crowd. “ENOUGH!” </p><p></p><p>The crowd began kicking C.Q.</p><p></p><p>“I said…” began Sebastian. “<span style="font-family: 'Impact'">Incendiares globus!</span>”</p><p></p><p>Flames blasted the crowd, igniting the offices of the Shipping News. People screamed and stumbled away, struggling to put out their flaming clothes.</p><p></p><p>Sebastian landed in front of C.Q. and helped him to his feet. </p><p></p><p>Although he had a bloody nose and a swollen left eye, C.Q. managed to compose himself. “Ah, the inimitable Sebastian Arnyal, I presume.”</p><p></p><p>Sebastian nodded, arms crossed. “And you are C.Q. Calame, father of Letah Calame and owner of The Shipping News.”</p><p></p><p>C.Q. lit his cigar off of one of the crowd members who had tried to kill him. The man was face down, his head ablaze. </p><p></p><p>“Gang members.” He pointed at the jagged tattoo around the dead man’s neck. “The Cutthroats started this fight.”</p><p></p><p>Sebastian sniffed. “Your article about me was untrue. I am no serial killer.”</p><p></p><p>“Of course not, of course not.” C.Q. took a puff of his cigar. “My daughter is the apple of my eye, you know, but she can…exaggerate, from time to time. But you ARE a killer and a good one at that. I swear by Sarish that you’ll get no more negative press out of me. For you or your friends.”</p><p></p><p>“Good,” said the dark-kin with a slight smile. “You just saved your own life.”</p><p></p><p>C.Q. coughed. “Speaking of saving things, would you mind being a hero and saving The Shipping News?” He pointed at the spreading fire behind him. Smoke poured from the windows. The staff that had barred themselves inside were banging at the doors to get out. </p><p></p><p>“Oh, right.” Sebastian turned with open palms facing the offices. “<span style="font-family: 'Impact'">Algor conus!</span>”</p><p></p><p>A freezing blast of ice and snow engulfed the building. The flames went out immediately, although they had already spread to other buildings.</p><p></p><p>“Thanks.” C.Q. adjusted dusted off his vest, sprinkling soot on the ground. “You may want to split, the Sea Lord’s Guard are on their way.”</p><p></p><p>He turned, but Sebastian was already gone.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 5027870, member: 3285"] [b]Crisis in Freeport: Part 2 – The First Signs of Trouble[/b] Crowds of men argued in the street, and where once trade and commerce took the forefront, it seemed as though everyone was more interested in the council’s decree. Sebastian flew over the city, taking it all in. Shops that were usually open for business were curiously vacant, their windows still shuttered from the night before as their owners and operators discussed the situation. The normal hum of noise that filled the city’s streets was dulled and in its place was uncomfortable, quiet conversations and worried looks passing silently between vendor and buyer. Even the normally bustling docks were curiously calm, and sailors and deckhands leaned against the rails of their ships, lost in their own thoughts. He finally landed on the rooftop near the Shipping News office. A paperboy threw a copy to someone. Sebastian pointed at the flying paper. “[FONT="Impact"]Magis attrecto![/FONT]” The paper changed its course and flew into Sebastian’s hands. To the paperboy, it looked like he had overshot his target. He threw another one that reached the customer unimpeded. Sebastian snapped the paper open. It read: “CAPTAIN’S COUNCIL REVOKES LAW OF SUCCESSION IN POWER GRAB.” The man who read the same headline gathered two of his comrades and stalked down the street towards the paper’s office, a crumpled up copy of the newspaper in hand. Sebastian tracked him from the air. The low murmur of conversation filled the street in front of the office belonging to the Shipping News. The building was nearly completely surrounded by disgruntled-looking citizens, many of whom clutched copies of the special edition in their hands. Occasionally, an angry shout went up from a person in the crowd, but the general mood was that of simmering unease rather than outright anger. After a few minutes, the door to the office opened and a short, round man in garish clothing stepped out into the street. With his appearance, the crowd became much livelier, and within a few seconds, the entire street was filled with the deafening roar of hundreds of shouting people. Cries of “shut this rag down!” and “tell ‘em the truth, C.Q.!” went up, with a chorus of cheers and jeers accompanying each one. Stepping up onto a wooden crate, C.Q. Calame waved the crowd into silence, clutching a tattered cigar between his plump fingers. “Good people of Freeport, be calm and hear me! Today’s edition of The Shipping News is but a window into the inner workings of the Captains’ Council, and I, your humble public servant, seek only to enlighten the masses as to the recent folly of the council’s members. I know that many of you are upset or frightened, and it is as you should be, fore there are those on the council that seek only to fatten their own purses by crushing you under their boot heels. For those of you that disagree with the columns in today’s special edition, I thank you for your patronage but urge you to remember that I am but the messenger.” Several people in the audience began arguing loudly with one another. Then suddenly a ripple of violence spasmed the crowd, as fist fights broke out between the two rival groups. Fists flew, blood sprayed, ad the air was filled with a cacophony of terrified shrieks, clashing blades, and angry shouting. The startled newspaperman was caught in the middle. He turned to the door but discovered it locked. C.Q. leapt down off his box and hammered desperately on the door. “Let me back in!” To angry citizens grabbed C.Q. and pulled him down into the crowd. Sebastian sighed. More violence. He spread his bat-like wings, casting a long shadow over the crowd. “ENOUGH!” The crowd began kicking C.Q. “I said…” began Sebastian. “[FONT="Impact"]Incendiares globus![/FONT]” Flames blasted the crowd, igniting the offices of the Shipping News. People screamed and stumbled away, struggling to put out their flaming clothes. Sebastian landed in front of C.Q. and helped him to his feet. Although he had a bloody nose and a swollen left eye, C.Q. managed to compose himself. “Ah, the inimitable Sebastian Arnyal, I presume.” Sebastian nodded, arms crossed. “And you are C.Q. Calame, father of Letah Calame and owner of The Shipping News.” C.Q. lit his cigar off of one of the crowd members who had tried to kill him. The man was face down, his head ablaze. “Gang members.” He pointed at the jagged tattoo around the dead man’s neck. “The Cutthroats started this fight.” Sebastian sniffed. “Your article about me was untrue. I am no serial killer.” “Of course not, of course not.” C.Q. took a puff of his cigar. “My daughter is the apple of my eye, you know, but she can…exaggerate, from time to time. But you ARE a killer and a good one at that. I swear by Sarish that you’ll get no more negative press out of me. For you or your friends.” “Good,” said the dark-kin with a slight smile. “You just saved your own life.” C.Q. coughed. “Speaking of saving things, would you mind being a hero and saving The Shipping News?” He pointed at the spreading fire behind him. Smoke poured from the windows. The staff that had barred themselves inside were banging at the doors to get out. “Oh, right.” Sebastian turned with open palms facing the offices. “[FONT="Impact"]Algor conus![/FONT]” A freezing blast of ice and snow engulfed the building. The flames went out immediately, although they had already spread to other buildings. “Thanks.” C.Q. adjusted dusted off his vest, sprinkling soot on the ground. “You may want to split, the Sea Lord’s Guard are on their way.” He turned, but Sebastian was already gone. [/QUOTE]
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