With your armor shrieking, you stepped up and into the building. The armor peeled off you, ripping chunks out of your body, lungs, kidneys...And a fearsome light out of which flew a great pteradactyl, the Thunderbird, wrapped itself around the armor...
At which point, things got weird.
Coca-cola bottles played Pepsi bottles for the World Cup of Soccer in front of an audience of intelligent, redneck hamsters. And the referee was yourself, and you were the ball as well, and then some Pepsi bottle got up in your face about a call you made, and it knocked you flat and into the dust which got up in your nose, and made you sneeze.
And you realize, you really did sneeze.
The temperature is in the nineties. Smooth stone is under your face. A feeling of dust is in the faintly moving air. You can smell salt somewhat. And cooking sausage.
Can I get a character sheet from you? I just picked up 200 bullets, but I have no idea how many I fired in the fight with the Huntsman. Unfortunately, I don't know how to do the coding to link that page to this.
Put all the guns away, get out and load the crossbow. Arrows are reusable, bullets aren't. Besides, a crossbow isn't as threatening. Maybe sausage cooking person will think I'm a deer hunter.
Follow my nose to sausage. Keep the crossbow pointed down. I just want to be ready to defend, not look like I'm attacking.
(Doing Therapy)
Lets say you spent 40 bullets. And you can add that to your character sheet if you like.
You walk down the alley between pale yellow brick walls. Its very clean, except for the dust.
Stepping out into the main street, its about forty feet wide, and you see carts pulled by horses, and humans in brightly colored but loose clothing. Following your nose takes you ten feet away, and into the open doorway under an awning. Inside is a dimly lit eating establishment. There's two guys sitting at a table playing cards, and one man sopping up gravy off his plate with a piece of bread. All have long knives.
A matron in an apron walks up to you and speaks.
"Fied, du, cupra, dwink?"
The 10mm I got from the war party was at Joel's house. There should be a scriff sense to that.
I didn't realize I was in a city. It sounded more like a tropical island or something. Leave the crossbow stowed. Don't take it out.
A matron in an apron walks up to you and speaks.
"Fied, du, cupra, dwink?"
"English?"
(Doing Therapy)
There is another scriff sense nearby as you can tell from the changing vector.
You babble back and forth a bit with the men helping out, until you catch the differences.
"Fied, du, cupra, dwink?" Becomes "Food? Two coppers, do you want a drink?"
They speak English, but with a heavy accent.
Previous Thread
A1 Alfen
There is another scriff sense nearby as you can tell from the changing vector.
One in orbit, one at Joel's house, and a verser.
Last I heard I was starving, and corn isn't terribly filling.
"Bronze, nickel, silver, gold, platinum, lead. No copper."
One of those has to be a precious metal. Pull out the wampum too. Amethyst. That could be worth a fortune.
(Doing Therapy)
This should be the one at Joel's house. Its you that is providing the movement.
The matron bows when you pull out a silver piece, and ushers you back into a private room after relieving you of the coin. She starts shouting, and shortly thereafter a younger version of herself, and a harrassed looking husband are putting down in front of you a bottle of red wine, a chipped china cup, a goat sausage pie slice about the size of the plate that is still bubbling that is spicy enough to singe the nose hairs from smelling it, a pile of sticky, yellow something that is really bland and has tiny spikes in it, and is spicy hot enough to make you cough (after you've had the second bite, ...its one of those delayed time effect ones whereas the pie hits you right away).
There are also asparagus in a green sauce that is only mildly spicy hot with a bit of other spices tastable in it.
The pie is about 1/5 crust (sprinkled with red dots and flaming hot), goat sausage 1/3 and with a wide array of spices, about half really hot, and some veggies that are mush, and a brown gravy that is like the sausage, but some spices have been added to it, especially these little pebble seeds that when you bite one make your head feel as if it should explode.
Later, there is flan. Its not spicy, except for cinammon and vanilla. Although they tell you they can add redspice if you like.
I love spicy food. I just hope all the food in the world isn't like this.
After I've had my fill, find the bathroom (QUICKLY!!!!!) then go get my gun.
Is that scriff sense still in orbit? Keep in mind that it could be 10,000 miles away and still on the planet. If I could recover the guns and the precious metals, I'd disown the rest of it I think.
(Doing Therapy)
The bathroom is a crude toilet, but it has running water (cold).
You track down your gun. Its in the straw in a stable, but there's no one but horses and an incurious stable boy who asks if you want to rent a horse.
The other scriff sense is currently in orbit.
Horses and stables. Lower tech than I've seen for a while.
To the stable boy: "I don't need to rent a horse, but can you tell me where the blacksmith's shop is?"
He starts by trying to give you directions, but then looks about, and seeing nothing happening, he takes you with him. Down one stone street, across a center square with a fountain and a man on horseback with a drawn sword in the middle of it, southward from the square past the market, and then left to a wide road.
The road is cut into the ground, a white slash of solid stone unlike th elarge cobblestones of the other streets, and it slopes downward to the see, ever steepening until it cuts through a line of hills. On the other side of the hills, you can see a sudden descent to a thin rim of buildings and piers and a harbor with a couple large ships in it.
A rope pulley, with chained prisoners, and mules pulling, takes a cart up or down the hill for a fee paid to the Pulley Master. But short of him, in the fifty yard deep crevice in the hills are buildings built into the side of the stone hill.
One is a blacksmith.
A rope pulley, with chained prisoners, and mules pulling, takes a cart up or down the hill for a fee paid to the Pulley Master.
Are they black slaves? Given the level of tech, that's a valid question.
"Hey Mr. Blacksmith type person. You need any workers?"
You don't have spell check on your browser do you? Firefox has a spell check, and I think it works wonders. Gets rid of all of those annoying typos
The skin color varies from light brown to pale, but you've seen no Blondes.
The hefty blacksmith walks out, a hammer in his hand.
"I cannot take on an apprentice, but I could use a worker. Times are...uncertain." He says in a light tenor voice. Gesturing for you to follow him, you let him lead you into the smoky forge. There he hands you a bar of iron stock.
"Make something useful."
"Make something useful."
"One short-sword coming right up."
(Doing Therapy)
As you hammer the metal, you can almost see the weak points, the grain of metal that is out of true. You're doing a very good job.
The blacksmith puts a hand on your shoulder.
He picks up the partially made short sword with his tongs, and tosses it in the forge to melt it.
"Are you from Recluse? No swords of Iron without the permission of the King. But, you do have the talent. I'd like to hire you. A bed, meals, a silver piece a week, and I'll let you have what iron stock you need to make your own tools."
"Are you from Recluse?
"Uh yeah. I'm a recluse. Last place I stayed, I was so alone it felt like I had a demon chasing me. I'll get started making my own tools."
Tongs, hammer, I don't know what all.
"Hey Mr. Smith, is there a woodworker's shop anywhere around here?"
A weaponsmith needs both skills. That's where I want this to go.
OOC: Oh yeah, and unless there are any objections from the ref, his name is Mr. Smith. Easy to remember. All blacksmiths are Mr. Smith. That is, after all, where the name originated.
(Doing Therapy)
Two
All of my guns are hidden, however, I am openly carrying that 10mm carbine I got from Smoking Hill. Is that causing any alarm? Have I seen anyone else with firearms? They probably don't know what it is I'm carrying. Also, you mentioned that everyone in the restaurant had long knives. Were they food eating knives or was everyone carrying a knife on their belt? Tell me more about what I've seen as far as tech. Horse drawn carriages, anything resembling modern technology? What era is this? Medieval? 18th century?
Also, as soon as I get a chance, reload all of the weapons with the ammo Smoking Hill gave me.
(Doing Therapy)
No alarm about the carbine. You've seen no one with firearms. In the restaurant, they were on their belts.
You've seen running water. And well laid roads with a gutter system.
And whatever cut that cleft in the hills you are in was very impressive.
"White demons, aye." Master Smith says phlegmatically as he starts to build the fire back up. "And four doors up is Carl and Liselle's place. Good quality wood. Bit more expensive, but you don't want cheap in a handle."
He has you work on stoking the fire, and pumping the bellows for a couple hours. Then he releases you for an hour as customers come in. You're able to reload quickly at this time.
Do I have time to go ask at the woodworker's shop? I'd be more than willing to work out a deal here. Do blacksmithing work for the woodworker in exchange for lessons. I am a 2@1 blacksmith, I could do that work on my own time, and learn both trades. I'd rather have 1@10 in two skills than 2@5 in one, ya know?
(Doing Therapy)
If you walk slow, loaf, look around, it might take you three minutes to get to the woodworker's shop.
The Master Woodworker is closely attended by his daughter, and after he coughs up sputum twice in the first couple sentences you understand why. He's an ill man, and looking rather as if he's been doing poorly for some time.
"An interesting offer, Journeyman. I would have to have your promise that you would not set up shop in this town as a woodworker. Lisabelle will have enough difficulties soon enough without more competition than this town could hold."
"An interesting offer, Journeyman. I would have to have your promise that you would not set up shop in this town as a woodworker. Lisabelle will have enough difficulties soon enough without more competition than this town could hold."
"Sir, I give you my word of honor. I will be no competition for you. I don't tend to stay in one place very long. It's almost like I'm worlds away in a matter of seconds. So we have a deal then? Woodworking lessons for blacksmithing work? What time should I be back? Oh and if you could please do me the favor of not telling him about this? He might have a problem with me getting his business from you."
I need both skills.
(Doing Therapy)
Two
And if there are no objections from the ref, this guy is Mr. Wood. Easy to remember.
(Doing Therapy)
Master Wood is fine.
He shakes his head. "I must tell my brother master about this, but I do not think he will object. Not as long as you are as able as you seem to think you are."
"Fair enough. When can we begin?"
When does the blacksmith want me to start?
Two
Eric, what do you want to do about the new software? Since it just started, I don't see why we couldn't move it over there. What do you think?
(Doing Therapy)
The woodworker wants you to come over after dinner.
You go back and work with the blacksmith, mostly doing the bellows. You can see he's occasionally checking what you're doing, and nodding with satisfaction, not saying a word to you, just...'mmmm'. Master Smith doesn't talk much. He points more than talks.
After a hard day of that, you're more than willing to bite into the lamb chops and the crunchy root salad. Neither are as hot as the private room, but both require you to swallow several glasses of gritty well water. They're only mildly volcanic.
"My wife's from the north, they don't like their chops that hot. Don't even put mileka in their summer salad. Sorry, its so weak, I'll tell her to spice it up next time."
Its the most words the Smith has said all day.
After that, you're down the street to Master Wood. You see one man riding past, a saber of bronze on his hip. And an official red uniform. He gives you an uneasy feeling.
And now, its wood work. Your arms tend to tremble from the hard work, and that's bad for wood work. Master Wood frowns, and starts you on shaving small logs of their bark.
"Ordinarily we buy our logs from the mill, pre-shaved, but if I find a small piece, I glean it, and we can shave it ourselves."
OOC: Let me think about it, John.
"My wife's from the north, they don't like their chops that hot. Don't even put mileka in their summer salad. Sorry, its so weak, I'll tell her to spice it up next time."
"I'm from the city of Lost Angels. (John Connor was born in Los Angeles) We don't like our food so spicy up there. Does everyone around here eat like that?"
Lisabelle will have enough difficulties soon enough without more competition than this town could hold."
Just asking conversationally
"So Master Wood, if I may be permitted to ask, what were the difficulties your daughter will be facing?"
I might be trying to give him the impression that I'm interested in his daughter.
After that, you're down the street to Master Wood. You see one man riding past, a saber of bronze on his hip. And an official red uniform. He gives you an uneasy feeling.
"And who was the guy in the red pajamas I saw a few minutes ago?"
(Doing Therapy)
He nods.
"Oh, the Black Angels? From far up north?"
Master Wood coughs, and then looks around to make sure Lisabelle isn't around.
"I am not too long for this world, boy. Thought I wasn't going to make it through last winter. Definitely won't make it through the next one. And of course, Lisabelle is a woman, so..." Spit/cough. "She can't inherit a business. She can own the house. But she can't be a Master."
He cackles and when he explains it to Lisabelle she breaks out laughing with a bell like tone as well.
"Do not say such to the Mage-guard. They have no sense of humor." She says. "If he had a sword, then he is a white mage, and if he had a rod, then a black mage. We aren't like Recluse where you're from, according to the blacksmith where everyone is a black mage."
"Oh, the Black Angels? From far up north?"
"Uh no, it's Lost Angels. I'd be surprised if you'd heard of it. The city is so small it doesn't appear on most maps."
She can own the house. But she can't be a Master."
"Sounds like you might need to marry her off my good man." <wink>
So what's going on now?
Master Wood gives you a thoughtful, measuring glance. He doesn't say anything, but you can tell that very idea has been on his mind.
The next day, is more work in the forge. You get some work done on your hammer as well.
A man comes through when Master Smith is off talking to the charcoal man, and he brusquely asks if you can fix the horseshoe on his rather winded horse, and quickly. The horse is nervous.
A man comes through when Master Smith is off talking to the charcoal man, and he brusquely asks if you can fix the horseshoe on his rather winded horse, and quickly. The horse is nervous.
"Uh, sure. I can do that. Costs a copper extra for the rush."
That copper goes in my pocket.
OOC: I know you're into a faster paced game. You said boring the GM is the worst mistake a player can make. (Or something similar) The thing is though that I'd like to get some decent woodworking skills and improve my blacksmithing. You've probably got some story idea you're about to run me into. I'd want to skip ahead first. Get into a rut where I'm just working, living, and making money, and THEN have your fun story. Get to 1@10 woodworking, THEN have the story. So, if we could find a spot to do that, it would be cool. We could get through that skipping in a post or two, then have your story unfold. From my character's POV, he lived here for a year, then something went down, instead of right away. Can we do that?
(Doing Therapy)
I'll try to do something like what you say.
You fix the guy's horse, and he pays you the copper, and rides out.
"Halt." You hear a voice that sets your nerves on edge.
Looking out, you see the red pajama guy facing the guy on the horse.
"You can get off the horse if you like. Its a fine beast."
The horseman looks around desperately. Others are staring out of windows.
"I don't have all day." The mage-guard says.
The horseman leaps off, and draws his dagger and charges the mage-guard. He gets four feet before the mage-guard raises his hand and fire sprouts from his hand and burns the horseman to ash.
"He was a smuggler." The mage-guard announces, "A silver to the man or boy who brings the horse back to headquarters."
Other than that, the month passes uneventfully.
OOC: So what's my woodworking at?
The horseman leaps off, and draws his dagger and charges the mage-guard. He gets four feet before the mage-guard raises his hand and fire sprouts from his hand and burns the horseman to ash.
I'm also putting psionic force field into practice mode. Let's just hope it can stop magic fireballs.
And how much money have I made?
(Doing Therapy)
You've put in 32 hrs. a week of actual blacksmithing (some of the rest is just sitting around, or sweeping the floor), and 18 hrs. a week of woodwork.
You're getting stronger. Blacksmithing tends to require explosive strength, and woodworking is more of the continously applied slow moving pressure, but both are difficult. You don't shake when you start woodworking now.
You've earned 4 silvers as pay, and three coppers for extra work (which is legal. You're allowed to do simple jobs on your own and get paid for them. Legally, your master could take the money, but a good master doesn't.)
At first you're not sure, considering how tired you are, but you decide that at least here, you can't do psi.
However, you do seem to have some of a feel for what the iron is going to do.
You've acquired, by the end of your second month, a nickname, Master Nose, or Grind, from the idea that your nose is always to the grindstone. Its moderately respectful however. People like what you're doing with Master Wood, and no one wants to harrass two of the bigger men in town (you and Master Smith).
So what's my woodworking at?
What weight are the silvers and coppers? I'd hate to do it, but I might disown everything in orbit.
Keep working. What does Lisbelle look like? How old is she? I promised myself I'd never take an associate, but my character isn't the same person I am now. He might be interested in settling down. I look like I'm 18 right? I'm letting my hair and beard grow. I used to think short hair was low maintenance, but I've found long hair is. Tie it into a ponytail, if you need a haircut, snip snip and you're done.
Keeping skipping along like a couple of young broads on a schoolyard. (Must be read in Lawrence Tierney's voice for full effect)
(Doing Therapy)
You start at 1@1 Woodworking, and if I remember right, its 60 hrs. per mark, so +@2.
1/4th an oz. to 1/10th an oz. They are irregular and from different kingdoms and trade cities with the Recluse coin being the finest.
She's tall, fair, with her shoulder-length hair black and bound in a ponytail, and age sixteen, but she acts older and serious.
You hear rumors of tariff difficulties. You dream of iron densely packed into itself.
Second...
A month passes...
So 1@3 woodworking? Has my blacksmithing increased? I've got teacher/trainers for both. I just don't want to lost the skills, ya know?
She's tall, fair, with her shoulder-length hair black and bound in a ponytail, and age sixteen, but she acts older and serious.
Unfortunate. I like short, chunky, blondes......
When I get a chance, do the foot in mouth prayer to summon the angel Terry. He's a very gay, er happy servant and guardian angel. I want him to go get my stuff out of orbit.
(Doing Therapy)
+@1 mark as you're already a pro in blacksmithing.
Terry does not arrive.
Another month passes, you notice that you seem to have an improved intuition about when people are lying.