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Thread: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

  1. #111
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    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Ser Timon
    Timon raises his hand in a farewell gesture as Vlad rows back to the shore. Seven speed you my friend, and may they watch over us all in the time to come. As Timon watches his friend depart, the exertions of the past days catch up with him. A wave of fatigue and dizziness washes over him, forcing him to steady himself against the boat's railing. Cursed sickness! Am I never to be truly well again?!

    Presently, Timon recovers and motions Ser Walton and Captain Harn to come speak with him. "Ser Walton, Captain Harn. Thank you both for your efforts in this endeavour. It ended better than I had dared hope when we set out and I shall see to it that you are both properly rewarded for the service you have rendered. But, you both saw what was in those chests and now we are faced with an entirely new danger. The gold in those chests is traitor's gold, and it's more than any of our lives are worth to be caught with even one of those coins in our pockets. In fact, we are in danger just for having the chests in our possession, but we would be in no less danger if we were to throw them over board at once and try to forget we had ever seen them. Lord Bloodraven has a thousand eyes it is said, and he is not known to be merciful to traitors, or those who attempt to conceal evidence of treachery."

    "So, this is what we must do - we will return to Reedtown at once, and from there I will have the chests transported to a safe place. I need you both to impress on the men - sailors and soldiers alike - that the chests are strictly off limits, except on my explicit orders. There's no need to remind them of the contents, but make sure they understand that this matter now involves the King's Hand, and that it would be a death sentence for them to attract his attention by word or deed. Any questions? If not, I want you Ser Walton to take half our infantry and take command of the Riverfly. Once we've buried that wretch," - Timon indicates the dead ruffian - "I want both boats to make for Reedtown at full speed."

    "I need to rest for a while, then I'll speak to the bandit commander and to Captain Longpalm in turn. In the meantime, they are to be kept chained and separate at all times. Captain Harn, please see to it that they are fed and have something to drink."

    OOC: Alright, I'm stopping there to let Walton and/or Harn point out any flaws in the plan. I'm assuming that there's someone in the crew of the Riverfly that can actually pilot the boat without Longpalm on board. If not, Timon will release Longpalm to captain his boat for the return journey, under the watchful eye of Ser Walton. Alternately, if Harn has a capable man he can spare, Timon will send him across with Walton and keep Longpalm on the Moonspirit per the current plan.

    If there are no protests, the next IC post will see Timon begin his interrogations. I haven't decided yet whether to interrogate Longpalm or the ruffian first.

  2. #112
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    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Ser Timon

    Ser Walton and Captain Harn take in your plan. The seriousness of the situation has set in and their both attentive and quiet. After you finish, Ser Walton breaks in. “Ser, if I may? The traitors were bound for Lord Harroway’s Town. Whoever sent for the mint must be waiting there to receive it. If we proceed there, we could catch this shadowy manipulator honey-handed. Of course, we needn’t bring the mint itself—just Riverfly, with some of our men secreted aboard.”

    His plan has the virtue of blowing air on the embers of your investigation before it grows cold, but it also portends some danger. Lord Quincy Roote rules over Lord Harroway’s Town and dispenses justice within. If it came to confrontation, you would have no authority to seize the wrongdoers, except by Lord Roote’s leave…unless you were to invent a claim of acting for the Bloodraven or the crown. Failing those courses, it could come to steel. Worse, if Roote himself is the Lord Contrabander, you would be delivering yourself to his grasp.

    You have no occasion to suspect Lord Roote other than his dominion over the mint’s destination. House Roote supported their liegelord Tully and the crown during the Rebellion, but shed no blood in doing so. Quincy Roote spent those years at the Citadel, forging a chain that would be set aside when his brother perished of rotgut. You’ve known Quincy to be an able enough lord, if preoccupied with books and history. His heir Ser Robar serves as his emissary at Riverrun, where rumor has it, he now courts the lady Johanna Tully. His other son Dickfred is Harroway’s captain of the guard. Both are sturdy knights now, but were little boys during the Rebellion. (Quincy became a father and a widower before taking up at the Citadel.)

    A breeze lifts and carries a pleasant relief to your fatigue. You’ve been sweating hard under your armor since the boats came to a standstill. Harn’s first mate has brought Riverfly around and now makes for the southron shore, to bury the dead man and then begin ferrying Ser Vlad’s men across to the north. Per your command, the remaining bandit and the Longpalm are separated on opposite ends of Moonspirit, and the present members of the Longpalm’s crew (the others are helping crew Riverfly) are also under close watch.

    OOC: The first mates of either vessel are capable of piloting both Riverfly and Moonspirit, as is Harn. I went ahead with the ferrying plan since squadfather mentioned it earlier. If you want to rearrange the crew or cargo of their boat, I'll assume it was done before Riverfly started ferrying Vlad's cavalry across.


    Quenton

    You quickly spy a tangle of pork ribs sitting on an unattended table. The best meat has been eaten, but there’s still plenty of gristle and fat connecting them to one another. Once in hand, you can feel a sheen of cracked peppercorns and salt on the outside, slippery with grease but also grainy at the same time. It’s no longer hot to the touch, but it’s fresh enough to leave a wet spot behind from where you snatch it up.

    Truth be told, even in your hand would make a fine course. Finding meat as a soldier can be difficult at times, especially during marches, sieges, and the like. Sers require better fare. Fortunately for you, this often meant that the trimmings and left-behinds were plentiful enough to sustain your growing frame.


    Ser Vlad

    The drunkard bandit gives you a suspicious look as he accepts the wine. “What injustice do you speak of? You boarded us under a banner.” Nevertheless, he draws deeply from the skin as the rowboat makes its way to shore. He adjusts his hat, which is comically large and resembles a teetering black felt tower, to keep the sun from his eyes.

    Once on shore, you set the men to dig a grave and find a place in the river where the bank overhangs the shallows enough to allow a boat to approach such that the steeds to board without too much difficulty. As the cavalrymen take turns with the spade, Ser Mason and the Blacktooth listen to your orders and pass them on discretely to the men. For his part, the prisoner sits and nurses the skin of wine. He’s clearly still wary of the situation, seeing how Timon feathered one friend and seized the other, along with their cargo. Nevertheless, it was the Longpalm who ordered him bound and held in the hold. He may yet open up.

    Soon enough Riverfly comes across, pulling up to the spot your men have marked. It’s a rocky overhang that allows the horses to overcome the edge of the craft and board. They manage for fit five horses and riders aboard before filling the deck. After pushing off with poles, they make for the north shore. Two trips later, your entire patrol is on the north shore.

    OOC: I assume you’re not binding the prisoner? Are you going to let him ride, either by sending a rider home by boat or putting two people on the same horse? Do you give him a weapon?

  3. #113
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    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Quote Originally Posted by Ser heretic View Post
    Quenton

    You quickly spy a tangle of pork ribs sitting on an unattended table. The best meat has been eaten, but there’s still plenty of gristle and fat connecting them to one another. Once in hand, you can feel a sheen of cracked peppercorns and salt on the outside, slippery with grease but also grainy at the same time. It’s no longer hot to the touch, but it’s fresh enough to leave a wet spot behind from where you snatch it up.

    Truth be told, even in your hand would make a fine course. Finding meat as a soldier can be difficult at times, especially during marches, sieges, and the like. Sers require better fare. Fortunately for you, this often meant that the trimmings and left-behinds were plentiful enough to sustain your growing frame.
    Quinton

    His hands now "armed" with greasy, savory ribs, Quinton begins to make his way through the crowd, examining various pots of coin and script as well as their proximity to the track and gathered hounds. Making his way over into the vicinity of the man standing on the table in ringmail, Quinton judges the distance between the closest dogs and the helmet of currency between the man's feet. In his head, he began formulating a series of actions to hopefully distract the gambler and stealing-away with his pot. Would he be able to subtly toss the ribs in front of some wild hounds, walk towards the table, take the helm of coin out from between his legs while he theoretically was watching the dogs from his view on high, and make his way to the tent flap without being slowed down, or worse yet, apprehended outright? Quinton nervously considered all of this while moistening the inside of his mouth, which seemed to be getting drier by each beat of the heart.

  4. #114
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    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Quinton

    You count half a dozen dogs scattered in the tent, laying flat or sitting as they wait to claim some wastrel's cast-offs. It's hard to imagine them getting the attention of the tent in their faraway corners. Scavenging dogs are a common sight at the end of a table. The attention of the tent is currently aimed on the racetrack itself, where the kennelmaster is straining mightily to hold the hounds in check for the next bout. He's set the starting kennels, which are open-topped with a sliding gate on the front. Both beasts seem eager enough to leap from their blocks over the gate instead of waiting. Elsewhere in the tent, Hayford wins his test of strength, slamming the other man's arm down hard on the table. He lets out a whoop and turns to regard the track.

    In terms of which purse is least guarded, the helmet on the table is surrounded by the most men--a way to blend in, but also a way to be caught in the act. The horns of coin near the bartender are the opposite. Both are equally distant from the opening flap, but the helmet-table is closer to the track.

    OOC: My spelling of Quinton's name really is a game of roulette!

  5. #115
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    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Quote Originally Posted by Ser heretic View Post
    Quinton

    You count half a dozen dogs scattered in the tent, laying flat or sitting as they wait to claim some wastrel's cast-offs. It's hard to imagine them getting the attention of the tent in their faraway corners. Scavenging dogs are a common sight at the end of a table. The attention of the tent is currently aimed on the racetrack itself, where the kennelmaster is straining mightily to hold the hounds in check for the next bout. He's set the starting kennels, which are open-topped with a sliding gate on the front. Both beasts seem eager enough to leap from their blocks over the gate instead of waiting. Elsewhere in the tent, Hayford wins his test of strength, slamming the other man's arm down hard on the table. He lets out a whoop and turns to regard the track.

    In terms of which purse is least guarded, the helmet on the table is surrounded by the most men--a way to blend in, but also a way to be caught in the act. The horns of coin near the bartender are the opposite. Both are equally distant from the opening flap, but the helmet-table is closer to the track.
    Quinton

    Taking in a slow, deep breath through his nose to steady himself, Quinton positions himself near the table with the helmet and the racetrack. He eyes the kennelmaster, watching his body language, anticipating when the next race will start. He formulates his plan quickly in his head, based on what he has seen, his heart beginning to pound - echoing in his chest and ears. He'll let the doors open and the race commence. As anticipation builds and the dogs begin to round the track, he'll toss the meat onto the track in front of them, hopefully derailing the dogs and causing an uproar.

    Sweat begins to build along the top of the young man's brow and his throat starts to go dry and scratchy.

    Attention should be on the dogs as they get closer to the finish line, and not on him, hopefully allowing this gesture to go unnoticed. While anger and disbelief enter the betting hall, he'll be sure to rub his hands clean on his slacks before making a grab for the helmet as he walks towards and past the table. If he is fortunate enough, the young man will be able to swipe the betting pot without anyone immediately noticing and make a bee-line for the tent door. With any luck, he and Ferret will be making a dash towards a hiding spot before anyone figures out who took the coin and script.

    His ears begin to ring as anxiety and tension courses through his veins.

    The decision is made. It's now time for execution. May fortune favor the bold.

    OOC: No worries. It's actually quite amusing seeing what you come up with sometimes.

  6. #116
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    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Quinton

    As you hold your breath, the tent quiets for a moment and then the kennelmaster stomps on a lever, lifting the stops on the kennel-blocks and releasing the hounds. The tent is uproarious, with all eyes on the hounds as they jockey and clash for the inside lane. As they round the first corner, you seize your chance, loosing the meat onto the track and ducking toward the helm of coin. You're already moving and can't see the impact, but immediately, the cheering turns to shouts of "Oy! What's this--""--Cheater! Cheater!""--he's fouled it!" You catch a glimpse of the dogs continuing on, one of them having broken away from the other. The dogs don't appear to have been swayed much, but the crowd is searching for the thrower. The men on the opposite side of the track are pointing accusing fingers at you and yelling. Thankfully, those nearest you didn't see you throw it, as their backs were turned, but they will soon figure it out.

    As planned, you wipe your greasy hands on your clothes as you duck through the crowd. Your shoulders and hips are narrow and you manage to sway and weave between the men. Finding yourself before the table, you glance up and see that the ringmailed man has his eyes on the track still, where the kennelmaster is attempting to quiet the protestations of the losing betters. You scoop the helm away without breaking stride, folding up the hem of your shirt to conceal it. Now, you just need to make for the--"HEY, YOU! HEY, HE'S GOT THE GOLD! THIEF!" Time to run.

    You're a half a step out of the circle of men whose pot you've stolen, moving behind two or three men with their backs to you facing the track. Ahead, there are several men seated on stools around a table, as well as another three standing. To the left of them are a couple of men watching the track and leaning on a pair of oak pole struts, each with three lanterns dangling. Across the track lies a larger crowd, some of whom have fingered you as the meat-thrower. To your right is a bit of open space and then some empty barrels lined against the side of the tent.

    OOC: Some dice rolls to resolve how effective the scheme is:

    Casing the tent for options: Awareness (Steal)-->4d6k3-->13
    Causing the diversion: Deception (Animal Handling: Charm), with +D circumstantial bonus-->3d6-->7 (deception not good enough to conceal your theft for too long)
    Stealing the helm: Thievery (Steal)-->5d6k4-->12
    Getting away: Agility (Quickness)-->4d6k3-->11

  7. #117
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    Re: (IC) Black Dragon Rising

    Quote Originally Posted by Ser heretic View Post
    Quinton

    You're a half a step out of the circle of men whose pot you've stolen, moving behind two or three men with their backs to you facing the track. Ahead, there are several men seated on stools around a table, as well as another three standing. To the left of them are a couple of men watching the track and leaning on a pair of oak pole struts, each with three lanterns dangling. Across the track lies a larger crowd, some of whom have fingered you as the meat-thrower. To your right is a bit of open space and then some empty barrels lined against the side of the tent.
    Quinton

    The pounding of the boy's heart in his ears is almost deafening after he hears the first cry of "THIEF!" Images begin to blur and his eyesight enters tunnel vision. His only goal now is to make it out of the tent alive and with all of his appendages still intact. Holding the helmet close to his gut, not wanting to lose any of the precious coin or leave a trail behind him for others to follow, he summons whatever quickness he can to flee. Instinctively, he turns away from the gathering of many - any one of which could grab him for a healthy reward - and turns to the right, heading for the clearing and the barrels along the side of the tent.

    OOC: I may regret this, but I think I'm going told onto my Lucky reroll in case he gets caught.

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