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leticiaSo we badgered Ril into running an Ex2.0 game.
I'm playing the Night - Iron Wings Ascending. And here's her Prelude...
It's another pleasant day in Gem, with the volcano not threatening to erupt, no Fair Folk raids...just the persistent rumors that the Realm are finally going to call in the debt Gem owes them and march a legion through the place.
However, they're much too far away to properly conduct an invasion, and trade's been relatively profitable, so no risk of that, right?
And on the personal business side of things, someone's really interested in meeting you. He mentioned that he'd be in the central marketplace of Gem, 'probably haggling over cloth', and that he'd recognise you. (It's not like you're completely unrecognisable. How many extremely short assassins are there?)
Iron Wings Ascending considers that. On the one hand, there are those who would definitely like to kill her. On the other hand, she's a Solar. Still, she opts to scout the marketplace in full stealth, first - armor and all. If there's going to be an ambush, it always helps to know how many and what they're armed with.
There is absolutely no sign of ambush, apart from the usual pickpockets, random thugs on their way to beat up someone else or haggling over vegetables, the usual bored, inattentive guards. Nothing that would suggest an ambush. In fact, as things go, it's a relatively quiet day. There is also a man arguing with one of the clothsellers, who is probably the person who wants to hire you. He appears to have no guards with him.
Iron Wings Ascending finds a secluded corner near the marketplace, removes the faceplate of her armor and tucks it into the silk at the front, throws back the hood, and slips a plain grey robe around the armor, concealing it; there's no need to advertise her equipment, after all. She returns to the marketplace, working her way past vendor booths like any curious buyer.
The person currently haggling over cloth ("This bolt wouldn't even be fit as a tablecloth for my servants! Do you know who I am?") is... He's the secretary of (and married to) the Second Junior Counsellor for Commerce i.e. the director of Foreign Intelligence.
He's also three times the age he looks (young), claims to be the child of the spirit of the primary volcano around Gem, definitely godblooded in some way or other, and has a habit of dressing up as a woman and loudly propositioning random goodlooking passersby. And tourists. Especially tourists.
He is not, currently, engaging in that pasttime, though you've seen him at it before. He does not notice you.
Iron Wings Ascending considers the situation, and decides she'll give this unknown a slightly longer chance to arrive; she keeps her eyes open, picking a booth to discuss the wares of where the sun shines bright on the shade, and anyone above would cast a shadow onto it, where she can see most the market and the sun is not in her eyes -- ideally, a stall for a foreign merchant, who will be able to be queried - at length - about the origin of the imported goods. She watches the market closely for suspicious new arrivals - or, most of all, a suspicious influx of people who look armed.
Aforementioned haggler finally purchases a small bolt of cloth, turns around, and starts walking in your direction.
Iron Wings Ascending weighs the desire of certain individuals to see a certain assassin brought to justice (and their relative clout or lack of it, in Gem's political structure), against the unlikeliness of this particular official having that in mind. She decides she can always opt to scale a wall later, and continues her conversation with the merchant, questioning the his claim a particular vial really contains a rare - at least this far south - Haltan brew.
Refah (the secretary) walks up to you and attempts to pat you on the head. "You haven't grown since I last saw you! What was it, three years ago?" He smiles at the merchant. "Please don't try to cheat my niece," then attempts to nudge you subtly towards a more private location.
<<OOC>> GM says "It was, in fact, six years ago, and you assassinated the former director of foreign intelligence."
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending laughs. >_>
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "Hrm. Since she's been keeping an eye on him, assuming she hasn't been able to detect anything funny with said hand, she'll probably not try to dodge it."
<<OOC>> GM says "Your 'It's a trap!' sensors are not going off at all. From what you can tell, he's genuinely harmless (except unsubstantiated rumors place it that the following purge of half of the domestic foreign intel officials was carried out by him, not you. You didn't do it.)"
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "Oh, yes, harmless."
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending is harmless, too. See? Small and waiflike!
<<OOC>> Brian laughs and laughs.
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending innocents at Brian. Harmless!
<<OOC>> Brian snerks.
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending has strength 2! What kind of threat is that?
<<OOC>> Brian says "Dex is...?"
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "5. ^_^"
<<OOC>> Brian says "There's yer sign. :P"
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending is harmless! Just flexible!
Iron Wings Ascending turns her head towards the man and claps her hands together happily. "Ah, uncle! I didn't expect to see you here. No worries, this good merchant isn't cheating me." She turns a smiling face towards the poorpropmerchant, and inclines her head. "Excuse me, though," and allows herself to be nudged away by 'uncle'.
Refah smiles wider and leads you through a few winding streets. "I'd offer to buy you a few drinks, except you're underaged. Since we can't do that..." You end up near the cheaper areas of the high-class district, where he unlocks a small apartment and invites you in. There are no signs of guards, or arms, or traps. It's a pleasant, though small apartment with what appears to be the latest in Essence-powered temperature control systems, a luxury for those capable of channeling Essence, especially in Gem.
Iron Wings Ascending continues to keep her eyes open, but accepts the invitation; she hasn't seen anything wrong yet... and, well, she's pretty arrogant about her ability to spot traps.
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "When you say she met him six years ago, was he involved in the hiring?"
<<OOC>> GM says "I mean, he was in the room when she murdered the former director. Waved at her, and vanished out of some secret escape route."
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending wonders if this would have been before or after she Exalted. Probably before?
<<OOC>> GM says "Hm. Well, in any case, it was 'before her Exalted powers developed to the extent where she could kill him dead very fast'."
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending snrks.
<<OOC>> GM says "So, either very early in her Solar career, or nonexalt."
"Please, take a seat." He gestures towards some couches around a small table, and a servant brings out some light refreshments. The usual. Olives, cheese, stuffed eggplant... "Any drinks in particular I can offer you? I'm afraid that I couldn't steal some of the best vintages of Realm wine from the Despot, but that's just too troublesome."
Iron Wings Ascending smiles absently, appraising the room and the servant - for threats, for possible escape routes, and for general interest, and says, "I'd prefer honeyed ice-water anyhow, thank you." She settles down on a couch.
The servant leaves, presumably to get the water, while Refah picks out a bottle of wine and pours a glass for himself. "I've been doing a bit of investigation, and it turns out that you're not actually the person who murdered our poor former junior councilor for commerce. Isn't that nice?" The servant returns with a pitcher and cups for the water, and pours a cup of it for you.
Iron Wings Ascending accepts the cup, taking a sip and holding it in her mouth, giving tongue and nose a chance to detect any warning flavors or odors lurking beneath the light sweetness of the honey, before answering, "Indeed?" She raises the cup slightly towards him. "It's nice to know I've been cleared of such groundless suspicions," she finishes, face straight.
He nods. "I'm not sure how they could have suspected you in the first place. I, for one, never believed a word." Completely straight face, too! Refah pours himself a cup of water and drinks some of it. It's not poisoned, as far as you can tell. "I'm also certain that most of the other investigations against you are going to be dropped soon, since if we eliminate that particular dreadful murder, the pattern linking you to the other ones is broken."
Iron Wings Ascending is not particularly suspicious, merely professionally cautious; she permits herself to swallow the next sip of water. "Welcome news," she says. "May I ask what new evidence is going to clear my name?" She raises an eyebrow.
Refah assumes a properly sad expression. "A friend of a friend of mine, no names mentioned, you understand, has concrete evidence that it was all a plot by some of the neighbouring desert tribes. You see, they're not particularly fond of our department, and they thought that by eliminating most of us, the people who came in to fill these vacant positions would be inexperienced and unable to properly handle the increasing threat they pose to our city. Sadly, they nearly succeeded in their plot. However, due to the efforts of a certain hardworking secretary, we have finally found out the truth!" He smiles.
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending snrrrrk.
<<OOC>> GM says "Yes. This is the plot hook."
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "So, so far I've been hired to kill the Dawn and now the Zenith?"
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "Zenith."
<<OOC>> GM nods!
<<OOC>> GM will hire you to kill the Twilight and the Eclipse, too.
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending can see the rest of the Circle is going to trust her absolutely.
<<OOC>> GM says "Hee hee hee."
Iron Wings Ascending shakes her head. "Dastardly, truly." She ponders the situation, idly wondering what circuitous intrigue makes a plotter like this concerned with a desert tribe, and leans forward slightly. "They will be brought to justice, I hope?"
Refah nods. "Of course. Still, we can't do this publically. If we announce that you're innocent right away, the tribes will be able to falsify the evidence or go into hiding. I'm sorry to say, but we have to keep it quiet just a little longer, until we bring them to justice. By any chance would you know someone adept at, ah, law enforcement?"
Iron Wings Ascending taps her chin with the hand not occupied by the cup, and tilts her head to the side slightly. "I could probably think of someone," she muses. "I know some people who are very good at what they do."
Refah pulls out a notebook hidden...somewhere...in the couch, and flips through it. "Ah! I see we have a trading caravan due to leave for the mastermind's tribe in a few days. Would one of them be ready by then? I can delay it for a week, but no longer."
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending is most amused. This is an awesome plot hook.
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "Nothing says Party Harmony like having been hired to kill half the party at some point or another. :p"
Iron Wings Ascending thinks over her current obligations - few enough at the moment, and nods slowly. "I would think so. Yes."
Refah smiles and nods. "Excellent." He scribbles barely read ache instructions about where the caravan is and when it's leaving, tears the page off, and passes it over to you. "I'll have the paperwork done by the time we get word of the perpetrator being apprehended! Oh, by the way, his name is...er...Jackal? Two Hun - wait, no, Ten Thousand Jackals. Would you like to stay for dinner? I have an excellent cook."
"Or was it a thousand?"
Iron Wings Ascending slips the paper into the outer robe, and inclines her head, accepting the invitation - and why not? She doubts the man means to poison, trap, or otherwise backstab her at least until she's done his dirty work.
"I need to improve my handwriting. Can you read this?" He waves a completely incomprehensible page in front of your face. "Crazy tribespeople and their silly names."
<<OOC>> GM will pose the final caravan journey now, then?
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "Sure."
Three days later, the caravan leaves Gem for the bimonthly 'Charitable Trade With The Desert People' trade route. You're with them, for reasons no one asks about, and you learn just about nothing apart from the fact that every single person on the caravan is an agent of foreign intelligence, and will not divulge official information. Some of them are excellent storytellers, though. Two weeks pass, in a mostly-boring fashion, without any raids at all. (Once, there was nearly a raid, except some hurried and loud negotiations went on, involving a lack of raiding and two goats in return for some silk.) One evening, the quartermaster approaches you and informs you that the next tribe is where you're supposed to be doing 'something for our mutual employer', also, to please not make too much noise, else they have to abandon you and leave before they all get slaughtered, and they'll reach it in about ten minutes.
In the distance, there is the unmistakable sound of multiple firedust explosions.
A torrent of cursing can promptly be heard from the entire caravan.
GM says "Aaaaaaaaaaaand that's it for your prelude."
I'm playing the Night - Iron Wings Ascending. And here's her Prelude...
It's another pleasant day in Gem, with the volcano not threatening to erupt, no Fair Folk raids...just the persistent rumors that the Realm are finally going to call in the debt Gem owes them and march a legion through the place.
However, they're much too far away to properly conduct an invasion, and trade's been relatively profitable, so no risk of that, right?
And on the personal business side of things, someone's really interested in meeting you. He mentioned that he'd be in the central marketplace of Gem, 'probably haggling over cloth', and that he'd recognise you. (It's not like you're completely unrecognisable. How many extremely short assassins are there?)
Iron Wings Ascending considers that. On the one hand, there are those who would definitely like to kill her. On the other hand, she's a Solar. Still, she opts to scout the marketplace in full stealth, first - armor and all. If there's going to be an ambush, it always helps to know how many and what they're armed with.
There is absolutely no sign of ambush, apart from the usual pickpockets, random thugs on their way to beat up someone else or haggling over vegetables, the usual bored, inattentive guards. Nothing that would suggest an ambush. In fact, as things go, it's a relatively quiet day. There is also a man arguing with one of the clothsellers, who is probably the person who wants to hire you. He appears to have no guards with him.
Iron Wings Ascending finds a secluded corner near the marketplace, removes the faceplate of her armor and tucks it into the silk at the front, throws back the hood, and slips a plain grey robe around the armor, concealing it; there's no need to advertise her equipment, after all. She returns to the marketplace, working her way past vendor booths like any curious buyer.
The person currently haggling over cloth ("This bolt wouldn't even be fit as a tablecloth for my servants! Do you know who I am?") is... He's the secretary of (and married to) the Second Junior Counsellor for Commerce i.e. the director of Foreign Intelligence.
He's also three times the age he looks (young), claims to be the child of the spirit of the primary volcano around Gem, definitely godblooded in some way or other, and has a habit of dressing up as a woman and loudly propositioning random goodlooking passersby. And tourists. Especially tourists.
He is not, currently, engaging in that pasttime, though you've seen him at it before. He does not notice you.
Iron Wings Ascending considers the situation, and decides she'll give this unknown a slightly longer chance to arrive; she keeps her eyes open, picking a booth to discuss the wares of where the sun shines bright on the shade, and anyone above would cast a shadow onto it, where she can see most the market and the sun is not in her eyes -- ideally, a stall for a foreign merchant, who will be able to be queried - at length - about the origin of the imported goods. She watches the market closely for suspicious new arrivals - or, most of all, a suspicious influx of people who look armed.
Aforementioned haggler finally purchases a small bolt of cloth, turns around, and starts walking in your direction.
Iron Wings Ascending weighs the desire of certain individuals to see a certain assassin brought to justice (and their relative clout or lack of it, in Gem's political structure), against the unlikeliness of this particular official having that in mind. She decides she can always opt to scale a wall later, and continues her conversation with the merchant, questioning the his claim a particular vial really contains a rare - at least this far south - Haltan brew.
Refah (the secretary) walks up to you and attempts to pat you on the head. "You haven't grown since I last saw you! What was it, three years ago?" He smiles at the merchant. "Please don't try to cheat my niece," then attempts to nudge you subtly towards a more private location.
<<OOC>> GM says "It was, in fact, six years ago, and you assassinated the former director of foreign intelligence."
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending laughs. >_>
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "Hrm. Since she's been keeping an eye on him, assuming she hasn't been able to detect anything funny with said hand, she'll probably not try to dodge it."
<<OOC>> GM says "Your 'It's a trap!' sensors are not going off at all. From what you can tell, he's genuinely harmless (except unsubstantiated rumors place it that the following purge of half of the domestic foreign intel officials was carried out by him, not you. You didn't do it.)"
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "Oh, yes, harmless."
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending is harmless, too. See? Small and waiflike!
<<OOC>> Brian laughs and laughs.
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending innocents at Brian. Harmless!
<<OOC>> Brian snerks.
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending has strength 2! What kind of threat is that?
<<OOC>> Brian says "Dex is...?"
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "5. ^_^"
<<OOC>> Brian says "There's yer sign. :P"
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending is harmless! Just flexible!
Iron Wings Ascending turns her head towards the man and claps her hands together happily. "Ah, uncle! I didn't expect to see you here. No worries, this good merchant isn't cheating me." She turns a smiling face towards the poor
Refah smiles wider and leads you through a few winding streets. "I'd offer to buy you a few drinks, except you're underaged. Since we can't do that..." You end up near the cheaper areas of the high-class district, where he unlocks a small apartment and invites you in. There are no signs of guards, or arms, or traps. It's a pleasant, though small apartment with what appears to be the latest in Essence-powered temperature control systems, a luxury for those capable of channeling Essence, especially in Gem.
Iron Wings Ascending continues to keep her eyes open, but accepts the invitation; she hasn't seen anything wrong yet... and, well, she's pretty arrogant about her ability to spot traps.
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "When you say she met him six years ago, was he involved in the hiring?"
<<OOC>> GM says "I mean, he was in the room when she murdered the former director. Waved at her, and vanished out of some secret escape route."
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending wonders if this would have been before or after she Exalted. Probably before?
<<OOC>> GM says "Hm. Well, in any case, it was 'before her Exalted powers developed to the extent where she could kill him dead very fast'."
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending snrks.
<<OOC>> GM says "So, either very early in her Solar career, or nonexalt."
"Please, take a seat." He gestures towards some couches around a small table, and a servant brings out some light refreshments. The usual. Olives, cheese, stuffed eggplant... "Any drinks in particular I can offer you? I'm afraid that I couldn't steal some of the best vintages of Realm wine from the Despot, but that's just too troublesome."
Iron Wings Ascending smiles absently, appraising the room and the servant - for threats, for possible escape routes, and for general interest, and says, "I'd prefer honeyed ice-water anyhow, thank you." She settles down on a couch.
The servant leaves, presumably to get the water, while Refah picks out a bottle of wine and pours a glass for himself. "I've been doing a bit of investigation, and it turns out that you're not actually the person who murdered our poor former junior councilor for commerce. Isn't that nice?" The servant returns with a pitcher and cups for the water, and pours a cup of it for you.
Iron Wings Ascending accepts the cup, taking a sip and holding it in her mouth, giving tongue and nose a chance to detect any warning flavors or odors lurking beneath the light sweetness of the honey, before answering, "Indeed?" She raises the cup slightly towards him. "It's nice to know I've been cleared of such groundless suspicions," she finishes, face straight.
He nods. "I'm not sure how they could have suspected you in the first place. I, for one, never believed a word." Completely straight face, too! Refah pours himself a cup of water and drinks some of it. It's not poisoned, as far as you can tell. "I'm also certain that most of the other investigations against you are going to be dropped soon, since if we eliminate that particular dreadful murder, the pattern linking you to the other ones is broken."
Iron Wings Ascending is not particularly suspicious, merely professionally cautious; she permits herself to swallow the next sip of water. "Welcome news," she says. "May I ask what new evidence is going to clear my name?" She raises an eyebrow.
Refah assumes a properly sad expression. "A friend of a friend of mine, no names mentioned, you understand, has concrete evidence that it was all a plot by some of the neighbouring desert tribes. You see, they're not particularly fond of our department, and they thought that by eliminating most of us, the people who came in to fill these vacant positions would be inexperienced and unable to properly handle the increasing threat they pose to our city. Sadly, they nearly succeeded in their plot. However, due to the efforts of a certain hardworking secretary, we have finally found out the truth!" He smiles.
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending snrrrrk.
<<OOC>> GM says "Yes. This is the plot hook."
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "So, so far I've been hired to kill the Dawn and now the Zenith?"
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "Zenith."
<<OOC>> GM nods!
<<OOC>> GM will hire you to kill the Twilight and the Eclipse, too.
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending can see the rest of the Circle is going to trust her absolutely.
<<OOC>> GM says "Hee hee hee."
Iron Wings Ascending shakes her head. "Dastardly, truly." She ponders the situation, idly wondering what circuitous intrigue makes a plotter like this concerned with a desert tribe, and leans forward slightly. "They will be brought to justice, I hope?"
Refah nods. "Of course. Still, we can't do this publically. If we announce that you're innocent right away, the tribes will be able to falsify the evidence or go into hiding. I'm sorry to say, but we have to keep it quiet just a little longer, until we bring them to justice. By any chance would you know someone adept at, ah, law enforcement?"
Iron Wings Ascending taps her chin with the hand not occupied by the cup, and tilts her head to the side slightly. "I could probably think of someone," she muses. "I know some people who are very good at what they do."
Refah pulls out a notebook hidden...somewhere...in the couch, and flips through it. "Ah! I see we have a trading caravan due to leave for the mastermind's tribe in a few days. Would one of them be ready by then? I can delay it for a week, but no longer."
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending is most amused. This is an awesome plot hook.
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "Nothing says Party Harmony like having been hired to kill half the party at some point or another. :p"
Iron Wings Ascending thinks over her current obligations - few enough at the moment, and nods slowly. "I would think so. Yes."
Refah smiles and nods. "Excellent." He scribbles barely read ache instructions about where the caravan is and when it's leaving, tears the page off, and passes it over to you. "I'll have the paperwork done by the time we get word of the perpetrator being apprehended! Oh, by the way, his name is...er...Jackal? Two Hun - wait, no, Ten Thousand Jackals. Would you like to stay for dinner? I have an excellent cook."
"Or was it a thousand?"
Iron Wings Ascending slips the paper into the outer robe, and inclines her head, accepting the invitation - and why not? She doubts the man means to poison, trap, or otherwise backstab her at least until she's done his dirty work.
"I need to improve my handwriting. Can you read this?" He waves a completely incomprehensible page in front of your face. "Crazy tribespeople and their silly names."
<<OOC>> GM will pose the final caravan journey now, then?
<<OOC>> Iron Wings Ascending says "Sure."
Three days later, the caravan leaves Gem for the bimonthly 'Charitable Trade With The Desert People' trade route. You're with them, for reasons no one asks about, and you learn just about nothing apart from the fact that every single person on the caravan is an agent of foreign intelligence, and will not divulge official information. Some of them are excellent storytellers, though. Two weeks pass, in a mostly-boring fashion, without any raids at all. (Once, there was nearly a raid, except some hurried and loud negotiations went on, involving a lack of raiding and two goats in return for some silk.) One evening, the quartermaster approaches you and informs you that the next tribe is where you're supposed to be doing 'something for our mutual employer', also, to please not make too much noise, else they have to abandon you and leave before they all get slaughtered, and they'll reach it in about ten minutes.
In the distance, there is the unmistakable sound of multiple firedust explosions.
A torrent of cursing can promptly be heard from the entire caravan.
GM says "Aaaaaaaaaaaand that's it for your prelude."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2006-06-05 04:16 am (UTC)[already cackling] This campaign is gonna be FUN. :D
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Date: 2006-06-05 04:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-05 04:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-05 01:30 pm (UTC)