Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
LOL at that... nothing like doing something damn-near suicidal on the face of it and then spending action points to shore it up. ;PRodrigo Istalindir said:
[GRIM TALES] Wulf Ratbane's SLAVELORDS of CYDONIA
- Thread starter Wulf Ratbane
- Start date
Rodrigo Istalindir
Explorer
Bill:
[sblock]
Bill takes the rifle and shoulders it. He points at the skreet whose life he just saves and yells.
"Hey, rat-boy. You got a name? You're gonna lead me to this fortress real sneaky-like."
He points at the hulk, who stood glaring at him, still nursing his arm.
"That could have been between your eyes just as easy, ugly, so don't go getting all indignant and thinking you'll get your revenge. I think you're getting ideas of a dangerous nature, I'll plug ya where you stand."
With that, Bill stalks from the audience chamber.
[/sblock]
[sblock]
Bill takes the rifle and shoulders it. He points at the skreet whose life he just saves and yells.
"Hey, rat-boy. You got a name? You're gonna lead me to this fortress real sneaky-like."
He points at the hulk, who stood glaring at him, still nursing his arm.
"That could have been between your eyes just as easy, ugly, so don't go getting all indignant and thinking you'll get your revenge. I think you're getting ideas of a dangerous nature, I'll plug ya where you stand."
With that, Bill stalks from the audience chamber.
[/sblock]
Last edited:
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
Uhh, Bill?
[sblock]The ratman is either already dead or really, really unconscious.
The hulk (I like that!) offers to take you. You ok with that?[/sblock]
[sblock]The ratman is either already dead or really, really unconscious.
The hulk (I like that!) offers to take you. You ok with that?[/sblock]
Rodrigo Istalindir
Explorer
Wulf Ratbane said:
Bill:
[sblock]Ok, I totally misinterpreted that. I thought the thug had thumped the ratman just hard enough to stun and keep it from squirming, not that he'd hit him hard enough to kill him. I thought it was going to be shooting a live (albeit subdued) target.
Yeah, I'll let the brute show me the way. He walks in front, though.
[/sblock]
Rodrigo Istalindir
Explorer
Wulf?
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
Guys, work has been crazy (you may have seen something on the news...) and the home life hasn't been stellar lately either (never, ever buy a condo-- just sayin').
But things have settled down enough for me to update today-- Bill and everybody else.
But things have settled down enough for me to update today-- Bill and everybody else.
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
Bill:
[sblock]
Assuming you are in position and willing to fire, send me an attack roll or other action that I can fold into the narrative. I'll fill in the details.[/sblock]
[sblock]
Assuming you are in position and willing to fire, send me an attack roll or other action that I can fold into the narrative. I'll fill in the details.[/sblock]
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
EVERYBODY ELSE
[sblock]
As the hours wore on, they gave up on idle speculation and eventually decided to get some sleep—Brigitta, of course, in the private sleeping suite— naturally, over her (feigned) objections. The men slumped wherever they could get comfortable and drifted off to sleep one by one.
Joshua was the last to fall asleep, troubled as he was by the whispered incantations he imagined coming from Brigitta’s room.
They awoke in the morning to a polite knock on the door. Without waiting for a reply, the door swung open slowly, pushed by an elite bru warrior in the garb of the Hematite Authority—one of Vert’jaal’s slave hunters. He stepped aside to make room for Vert’jaal.
Brigitta emerged from her sleeping quarters and rubbed her eyes: Vert’jaal entered, bearing a serving tray of pungent, steaming liquid that was almost, but not entirely, unlike tea.
“Drink up, otherworlders, you’ll need your wits.”
Brigitta eyed the stuff warily. The men paused a moment, none daring to go first nor willing to go last. They drank up almost in unison.
“I’ve had worse in the field,” bragged Haskins.
“I’ve had worse in the newsroom,” Rawley countered.
Teddy shrugged. He just didn’t care. The black liquid burned his throat and set his mind abuzz.
Joshua gulped his down and grimaced. “What is it?”
“Don’t ask,” Vert’jaal said. “We have very little time. Dress quickly and follow me, I will explain as we go.” He gestured to one of his guards, who stepped forward with a bundle of clothes and gear—the entirety of their belongings from Earth.
Right down to their gun belts.
They did as they were asked, eagerly discarding their gladiator’s outfits and slipping back into the comfort of their more familiar kits. The men checked the action on their weapons, giddy as children on Christmas morning; Haskins straightened himself and brushed out his uniform.
Vert’jaal led them out of their quarters and down, deeper and deeper into the stronghold. A half-dozen of his elite guards filed in behind them.
“Sil’saar is occupied in the courtyard, preparing for an important visitor. A priestess of the Order has been dispatched here, under the guise of collecting slaves for a sacrifice.”
Haskins interrupted. “I don’t assume you would have given us our gear back just to sacrifice us, or to throw us back into the dungeon—so I assume we’re going back to that portal.”
Rawley jabbed Haskins in the back, afraid he’d given something away.
“Yes,” Vert’jaal answered, “the portal. Sil’saar kept his secret well, but if my spies were successful, it’s a sure bet the Order knows about it, too. Sil’saar’s been very busy bringing back so many of these unusual slaves, it was inevitable that both the Authority and the Order would find out eventually, and become curious.
“So… as I was saying, you’re to be sacrificed to the Order.”
“You’re not sacrificing me to anybody,” Teddy growled.
“No, of course not. I simply meant that’s what they have in mind for you. Ostensibly. It gives them the cover to take you away, at any rate. I assume you would be horribly tortured by the Order, divested of every scrap of useful information, before you were sacrificed on their altars or given over to the sli'ess-lor for vivisection.”
Vert’jaal led them into the room with the portal. The portal was dormant, but the room was filled with crates, stacked high with Sutu handicrafts.
“So why bring us back here?” Brigitta asked.
“Let’s wait a little while, and see what happens.”
Vert’jaal sat down on a crate and inspected his claws.
[/sblock]
[sblock]
As the hours wore on, they gave up on idle speculation and eventually decided to get some sleep—Brigitta, of course, in the private sleeping suite— naturally, over her (feigned) objections. The men slumped wherever they could get comfortable and drifted off to sleep one by one.
Joshua was the last to fall asleep, troubled as he was by the whispered incantations he imagined coming from Brigitta’s room.
They awoke in the morning to a polite knock on the door. Without waiting for a reply, the door swung open slowly, pushed by an elite bru warrior in the garb of the Hematite Authority—one of Vert’jaal’s slave hunters. He stepped aside to make room for Vert’jaal.
Brigitta emerged from her sleeping quarters and rubbed her eyes: Vert’jaal entered, bearing a serving tray of pungent, steaming liquid that was almost, but not entirely, unlike tea.
“Drink up, otherworlders, you’ll need your wits.”
Brigitta eyed the stuff warily. The men paused a moment, none daring to go first nor willing to go last. They drank up almost in unison.
“I’ve had worse in the field,” bragged Haskins.
“I’ve had worse in the newsroom,” Rawley countered.
Teddy shrugged. He just didn’t care. The black liquid burned his throat and set his mind abuzz.
Joshua gulped his down and grimaced. “What is it?”
“Don’t ask,” Vert’jaal said. “We have very little time. Dress quickly and follow me, I will explain as we go.” He gestured to one of his guards, who stepped forward with a bundle of clothes and gear—the entirety of their belongings from Earth.
Right down to their gun belts.
They did as they were asked, eagerly discarding their gladiator’s outfits and slipping back into the comfort of their more familiar kits. The men checked the action on their weapons, giddy as children on Christmas morning; Haskins straightened himself and brushed out his uniform.
Vert’jaal led them out of their quarters and down, deeper and deeper into the stronghold. A half-dozen of his elite guards filed in behind them.
“Sil’saar is occupied in the courtyard, preparing for an important visitor. A priestess of the Order has been dispatched here, under the guise of collecting slaves for a sacrifice.”
Haskins interrupted. “I don’t assume you would have given us our gear back just to sacrifice us, or to throw us back into the dungeon—so I assume we’re going back to that portal.”
Rawley jabbed Haskins in the back, afraid he’d given something away.
“Yes,” Vert’jaal answered, “the portal. Sil’saar kept his secret well, but if my spies were successful, it’s a sure bet the Order knows about it, too. Sil’saar’s been very busy bringing back so many of these unusual slaves, it was inevitable that both the Authority and the Order would find out eventually, and become curious.
“So… as I was saying, you’re to be sacrificed to the Order.”
“You’re not sacrificing me to anybody,” Teddy growled.
“No, of course not. I simply meant that’s what they have in mind for you. Ostensibly. It gives them the cover to take you away, at any rate. I assume you would be horribly tortured by the Order, divested of every scrap of useful information, before you were sacrificed on their altars or given over to the sli'ess-lor for vivisection.”
Vert’jaal led them into the room with the portal. The portal was dormant, but the room was filled with crates, stacked high with Sutu handicrafts.
“So why bring us back here?” Brigitta asked.
“Let’s wait a little while, and see what happens.”
Vert’jaal sat down on a crate and inspected his claws.
[/sblock]
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