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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Rolzup" data-source="post: 2822980" data-attributes="member: 10105">A Good Walk, Made BetterWe were walking down the Street of Costs, hoping to find someone from whom to purchase a magical hat.  After my successful performance as Lucky, Kenji had decided that we needed some way to reliable disguise ourselves, should the need arise.  And who was I to argue?  It was a fine day, after all, and I was rather enjoying the opportunity to stretch my legs a bit.And then some idiots tried to kill us.Actually, no.  I get ahead of myself.  First, some idiots sought to threaten us.They accosted us on the street, a handful of men wearing the foppish clothing of the Room Rouge Players.  They sported a dazzling variety of absurd cognomens: Jacque the Knife, Short Paul, Mark un Mark, and one Boneaparte.This last, dressed in a particularly gaudy outfit, acted as their spokesman.  In a transparent attempt to seem dangerous, he used various pieces of bone as clothing accessories -- cufflinks made from human molars, for example.  Sad, really.Boneaparte blustered at us, told us that we would soon be dead, and threatened us with the wrath of Players' leader.  I laughed aloud.  Kenji went so far as to quirk an eyebrow; the equivalent of a belly-laugh for a man with human emotions.They left, sullenly, still calling out imprecations.  I dismissed them from my mind, and we continued on our way.  The Players had plans of their own, however, and we were not yet quit of them.Knowing the streets rather better than we did, they were able to use back-alleys and side streets to get ahead of us on the Street of Costs.  They then set up an ambush, hoping to catch us by surprise and murder us on the street.The fools.  Burne is not so easily defeated.It was to have begun with arrows.  Thugs were hiding in an alleyway, preparing to shoot as us as we passed.  Kenji spotted them first, however (my own mind was on higher matters), and introduced them to his sword.  As he did so, some more scum attacked us from behind.I rather welcomed the excitement, frankly.  The Engine had not yet had a proper field-testing, and this seemed a perfect opportunity.  A 'Trial by Fire’, as it were!  Ha!OH, HE IS A CARDIt didn’t go at all as they had planned.  Kenji, in his usual casual manner, slaughtered his way through the alley while Rackhir peppered them with arrows.  I laid waste to the foe in my usual manner, using the 'Incandescent Arc’, the 'Inflammatory Emanation’, and the infamous 'Corrosive Sphere’.It was the most fun I’d had in weeks.  And naturally, the Destructive Engine performed flawlessly.Ah.  But I forget the madman....  He, too, did his part.  Foaming at the mouth, as was his wont, he was laying about with his table leg, displaying great enthusiasm in his skull-crushing.  Oddly, though, I once more heard someone cry out, in a tone of panic, that the man’s eyes were afire.  Would that I had witnessed this myself, but alas....  I can only assume, under the circumstances, that the condition of his normally bloodshot eyes was exacerbated by his state of rage.The Room Rouge Players, for their part, did not fare at all well.  They managed to wound a bystander with a misplaced arrow, and I do believe that they managed to cut Kenji a time or three, but did they lay a hand upon Burne?  Not at all.PROBABLY AFRAID OF CATCHING SOMETHING.In the aftermath, the corpses slowly cooling in the morning air, I did what I could for the injured civilian.  I offered him some cogent advice, and suggested that regular exercise might go a long way towards improving his poor reaction time.Ungrateful bastard never thought to thank me.Happily enough, a traveling Barrister happened upon the scene mere moments after we’d dispatched the last of our assailants.  There was some question as to whether or not we had been the ones to instigate the slaughter, but our obvious sincerity (as well as some eyewitness testimony) soon cleared our names and we were declared free to go about our business.And fate, once more, smiled upon us.  One of the witnesses had spoken upon our behalf was the owner of a tavern and church called "the Chapel".  He declared himself to be the Right Reverend Don "Magic Wand", or, more properly, Donatello Pazzi de Gallina, priest of the Saint of Sinners.Not only was he impressed with our martial prowess, Donatello told us, but he was grateful to us as well.  The Room Rouge Players had been a thorn in his side for some time now, and we’d just done much to break their power.  Some still survived, he went on to warn us, including their leader, the infamous Jack Fancy.  Fancy would no doubt be intent upon revenge.I laughed.  What threat could such a man be to Burne?In any case, it transpired that the Right Reverend was entirely capable of making our magic hat for us, and offered to do so for us at a substantial discount.  It would take some time, of course, but it would be a very nice hat.  I accepted his offer with thanks.And on we went, about our business.  A song in my heart, a spring in my step, the smell of roasted flesh upon the air.  It was indeed a fine day.</blockquote>

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