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Post by Gravedust on Jun 20, 2010 20:59:14 GMT -8
Aye, gather 'round.
There are many days 'n many ways 'n a life, do ye ken?
And this day, whatever way ye may have taken in life has led ye here:
The cell of a Concordian prison ship, The Bethesda, wingin' it's way ta parts unknown.
How ye got here is up ta ye, an' nobody's business but yers. But where you go from here... That's up ta fate.
...And here's where the tale begins.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ((As the narrator suggested, this game begins with your character on a prison ship headed to parts unknown. Exactly what your character did to wind up there is up to you. They could be completely innocent or perhaps they deserve to be where they are. In any case, try to work it in with your character's story and offer some explanation in your initial post for some bonus CP. )) --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ======================= ::PART 1::WORST RESCUE EVER:: =======================
-6pm- 05/12/1910 -Aboard I.C.S. Bethesda- -Location Unknown-It's been two days since you left port, confined to your telephone-booth sized cell. While you sense there are others in the compartment with you, thus far you have neither seen nor heard them. The cells are divided into individual cubbies, each with it's own door, and you are alone in yours. Communication is difficult over the noise of air rushing past the open slit windows and the general clatter of the ship. The guards are inclined to come and bang on your bars whenever anyone tries to speak, with promises of some similar banging on various heads if you don't all remain quiet. Whatever belongings you had with you are confiscated; for the time being your only possession is a faded prison jumper. You are relatively certain your things are held in the cargo bay, one compartment over, as 'evidence'. But they may as well be on the back-side of the moon as long as you're locked away. You are fed once a day, a tasteless and largely unidentifiable gray mash of... Something, and water that's been inside a storage tank for months, or possibly years. Whatever you did (or possibly did not do ) to wind up here and whether you deserve it or not, for the last two days life has been very intensely unpleasant. Also unsettling is the fact that from what little you could make out from the conversation between the guards aboard ship, Bethesda is bound for a penal work colony. You hear the words 'salt' and 'mines' used with alarming regularity. Outside, the afternoon sun is setting, shining brilliant light in through the slit windows. As you sit watching the view (for utter lack of anything else to do) you notice something. A tiny black dot in the center of the circle of sun that you can just make out if you don't look directly at it... Bemused, you examine it for a moment longer before you make out the silhouette of a ship! It grows steadily in size as it approaches, and you realize it's using the setting sun to help hide it from the lookouts. As if on cue, a faint cry is heard from the deck above. "Contaaact! Ship to Starboard! Ship to starboard!" Far above you hear the omnipresent whine of the engines rises an octave as they spool, and the entire aging bulk of the prison ship shudders as it tries to put on more speed. The intruding vessel comes on steadily abeam regardless, growing huge and dark as it silhouettes the sun. You can't make out class or markings, but it effortlessly matches Bethesda's slow pace and draws alongside. It's hull fills the narrow slit of window available to you. With a sudden, thunderous crash the Bethesda rocks to one side, and you with it, temporarily left deafened and reeling by the concussion but otherwise unharmed. From your best guess the rounds hit somewhere on the decks above. As your hearing recovers you feel more than hear the solid -thump- of a grapple affixing itself. Belatedly, red emergency lighting flicks on as shouts sound from all over the ship, followed swiftly by gunshots and the din of clashing swords. As best your ears can tell, the fighting spreads rapidly throughout the ship. The guards near your cell have a hurried, whispered discussion then make for the door, reaching for the hatch just as it blows off it's hinges with a thunderous crash, silencing the both of them as it flips end over end into the compartment. Light bootsteps echo through the compartment in the silence that follows. "Viktor?" The voice belongs to a young woman, and is imbued with a slight higher class accent. "Viktor? Tell me you're here." A cough and a scuffle from the far end of the row of cells. "Here, my love." "Viktor!" She runs to him, visible for an instant as she passes the cells as a willowy, masked form, sword and smoking gun in hand. "Oh god, I'm so glad! I'll get you out of there... Stand back." "Don't blaspheme, dearest." He chuckles, and with a blast of her gun the lock that seperates them is destroyed. "We have to get out of here, Viktor. The ship's controls are smashed." "I see... Let us go, then." They pass in front of the cell doors again. Viktor is build like a greyhound, tall and lean with a muscled chest and a long, patrician nose. "Wait." Viktor's footsteps stop. "What of the other prisoners?" "There is no time, beloved. And they have no place with us." A note of exasperation in her voice. "They deserve a chance at least. In there, they have none." She sighs. "..As you wish.." A moment passes amid some faint sounds. "There.. The control panel will short and the doors will open. In perhaps a minute. Enough time for us to be away." "Thank you. You know what this means to me." Their footseteps fade from the compartment. Thirty seconds later the grapple disengages from the Bethesda's hull and the silhouette of the mystery vessel pulls away, fading back into the sunset like a phantom. Uncoupled from the other ship, the Bethesda lurches dizzyingly for a moment, swaying in midair before settling into a gentle counterclockwise turn. Thirty-four seconds after that there is a small, almost well-mannered pop of explosives in the compartment, a sizzle of sparks, and all the cell doors slide open as one. ---- ((Your turn! Free RP starts now. I've included a side schematic showing the layout of the ship marked off into compartments. For convenience I've also made some icons to represent where your characters are.. Their relative positioning doesn't matter, it's just to indicate what compartment they're in. As you explore, more of the layout will be revealed. Good luck!))
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kraftykate
Junior Member
Dr. David Sunday
Posts: 90
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Post by kraftykate on Jun 20, 2010 22:36:51 GMT -8
"We have to get out of here, Viktor. The ship's controls are smashed."
Her green eyes go wide. She hadn't even been to trial yet! Was this some sort of sick poetic justice? Did all airship saboteurs get the crash & burn treatment or was this a particular treat for avenging the Watson family name? No, she's just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Irony. Yeah, that's the right word.
She grabs the cell bars as Viktor and his love depart the cellblock. Her eyes bore into the two as they walk away.
"Wait." Viktor's footsteps stop. "What of the other prisoners?"
"There is no time, beloved. And they have no place with us." A note of exasperation in her voice.
"They deserve a chance at least. In there, they have none."
She sighs. "..As you wish.." A moment passes amid some faint sounds.
"There.. The control panel will short and the doors will open. In perhaps a minute. Enough time for us to be away."
"Thank you. You know what this means to me."
"You sons of bitches." Her voice is low and has a shocked tone, then she screams after her impromptu benefactors. "Do you have any idea what can happen in a minute of this old girl flyin' tits up?!"
Their footseteps fade from the compartment. Thirty seconds later the grapple disengages from the Bethesda's hull and the silhouette of the mystery vessel pulls away, fading back into the sunset like a phantom. Uncoupled from the other ship, the Bethesda lurches dizzyingly for a moment, swaying in midair before settling into a gentle counterclockwise turn.
Feeling the ships condition, Heloise strains at the bars and yells at no one in particular. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!" She knows exactly what can happen to a malfunctioning airship. Fortunately, the Bethesda is no White Goliath.
...and all the cell doors slide open as one.
Heloise shoots her head out of her cell to see where the guards are and notices their crushed forms. With that problem out of the way, she quickly makes her way to the cargo room to look for her stuff. After all, she knows she's going to need her tools if she's going to turn certain death into just cuts and bruises.
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Post by danielle1 on Jun 21, 2010 4:22:28 GMT -8
Sitting in a most unbecoming position in the corner of her cell, Ellie blows an exhausted sigh. The puff of air pushes a strawberry-blonde lock of hair from her eyes. Her eyes dart around taking in everything she can.
Having heard the conversation of the two passing then being tossed like a rag doll into her current position, Ellie quickly realizes that they are indeed far beyond fucked. She scrambles up as the cell doors all slide open and takes just a moment to adjust her disheveled clothing. Ellie had found that running headlong into who knows what could only benefit from having all her outside in order. People tended to take assessments at a glance...so she had better be prepared.
Pulling a pair of goggles from the pocket in her pants, she shoves them on her head using them as an impromptu hairband. ((And nothing else..RP device only in this scene.)) Slowly glancing around the outside of her cell...she makes note of another female rushing toward what Ellie thought may be a cargo area. Following quickly, Ellie uses the other woman as a early-warning system for whatever nastiness may be ahead.
Ellie traveled light...in this world you learned not to covet more than you could grab and go. She did however have a few things she would not wish to leave behind. A few pictures, a locket but most important, a few well-worn and faded letters which she had hidden. The same letters that her "acquiring" had landed her in this hideous beast of a skyship.
Ellie continued following her prison mate, but keeping large emerald eyes open for anything or anyone that may be useful to her survival. As Ellie did so, she wondered what the hell kind of name Bethesda was for a ship anyway.
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Post by jazzs3quence on Jun 21, 2010 5:47:37 GMT -8
Not being one to judge, Dexter spent much of the last two days quietly assessing the events that led up to his (and Claire's) capture and imprisonment. After having built a deep-sea echolocation device, Claire had used the fully-functioning prototype in a con she was running on one of her typical marks ("typical" being wealthy, powerful, and inordinately greedy). She had convinced him that she knew the location of a huge cache of treasure -- cargo from a fallen airship that was said to contain countless riches -- and sold both the information and the echolocation device in a deal that would have funded their own deep-sea expeditions for years to come. Unfortunately, in a rare miscalculation of personality, the mark (Dexter didn't care enough about him to remember his name and, therefore, didn't) got the jump on them, quickly calling in his connections with local law enforcement and claiming that the money Claire and Dexter were just given was stolen. The money was seized and returned to its previous owner, who received it with a smug grin as they were seized and taken...here.
Dexter knew Claire was in the next cell over; just hours after liftoff they started sending messages to each other in the rhythm code of taps and knocks that they used to use at home to pass illicit messages after bedtime when their rooms were adjacent to each other. The messages were nothing important -- they started mostly with "are you okay" and "this food sucks" but as Dexter got increasingly bored he started to encrypt his messages with a complex cipher just to see how long it would take Claire to decrypt it. He snickered to himself for several minutes after he send the encrypted message "I pooped" to Claire, to which she promptly replied "Scooter, you know I can't fucking decode that crap!" Hours later he got the message -- encrypted in the same cipher he had used to send his message -- "oh yeah? well I'm on the rag, so there."
Dexter didn't feel comfortable with most bodily functions, especially girl ones, and blew a hard raspberry at the wall, which got a chuckle in response.
After spying the airship from the windows, Dexter focussed on the sounds the Bethesda was making while calculating the size of the oncoming ship against how quickly that size was increasing to estimate the speed at which they were being overtaken. He was able to quickly determine, for example, that a ship of that class far outmatched the decrepit and ill-equipped Bethesda.
As the doors slid open and Dexter saw two girls head out, he stayed where he was, reverting to his old habit of making his calculations out loud, to himself, as he was working on a difficult problem. This stream-of-consciousness muttering often responded to a variety of inputs as he worked through the factors and filtered out the unimportant details. In this case, it went something like this:
"...approximately two cell blocks, six confirmed persons in cellblock 1, at least one -- now off-ship -- in cellblock two, threat unknown, kidding, kidding, kid: to tease playfully, first used in 1811 in thieves' cant "to coax, wheedle, hoax," from kid, noun, "to treat as a child, make a kid of," kid, "the young of a goat," extended meaning of "child" first recorded in the 1590s, oh does eat oats and goats eat oats and little lambs eat ivy a kid will eat ivy too wouldn't you?, engines in extreme duress, on present course, Bethesda cannot stay in the air, based on present rate of velocity and pitch, conclusion: pilot injured or dead, unable to fly the ship, percent chance Scooter could pilot ship: 3.2, cargo hold aft of present cellblock, escaped prisoner did not visit cargo before departing, conclusion: possibly extra supplies in cargo hold..."
And with that, Dexter stands up, pauses briefly in front of Claire's cell to flash an uncomfortable smile, and scurries off to the cargo hold.
((Once Scooter gets there, he'll first try to find his stuff, of which there isn't much, then he'll look for Claire's stuff to put aside (and stash in his bag for later), and then he'll start rummaging through the packs of everyone else for tools or anything he could potentially use to make tools out of. Cash, guns and weapons he'd leave alone -- he's more interested in metal, cable, copper, buckles, heat guns, things that could potentially be used to jury-rig the ship back into a flyable state. If given enough time, after finishing foraging for random stuff, he would then start cataloging all the other items based on their functional use. If he completes this before he's interrupted or otherwise forced to stop, he'll follow the sounds and the pipes to the engine room to see if there's anything he can do with his newfound hoard to start a repair.))
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Post by DeleriusDruid on Jun 21, 2010 7:57:38 GMT -8
This was funny. Marty chuckled softly to himself. He never thought it would come to this.
"They finally caught up to me," he thought, "Seven years I run from six murders I did not commit, and they only intend to send me to the salt mines? One would think a crime of that magnitude would deserve far worse."
And so he laughed. It was his default response to things that did not make sense. And very little made sense here.
"I wonder sometimes if I am insane. Would anyone else find my situation funny? Would any sane person ask themselves about their sanity?"
"Contaaact! Ship to Starboard! Ship to starboard!"
Marty sat bolt upright. This could be it, the opportunity of escape. Unable to see anything out of his port-side window, he strained his ears to listen for whatever was coming.
Crash! Thump! Boom!
Marty watched as the unknown rescuer and this Victor left, waiting for his moment of freedom.
...and all the cell doors slide open as one
Marty paused for a moment. He heard the hurried footsteps of his cellmates headed aft of the ship. He had almost forgotten he was not alone.
"What sort of criminals could they be? If a murderer of six deserves the salt mines now, what could these people have done?" he thought.
Never in a hurry to trust, he decided to remain cautious around these "companions" of his. They were together on a slowly-sinking airship, enemies of each others' enemies. They were "all in this together now" or something stupid like that. If cooperating with them insured his safety, great. If not, there was always his gun.
His gun. He had almost forgotten that too. His possessions were apparently stored in the cargo hold aft, where the others were going. He supposed he would need to go there as well.
((You said the guards were "silenced" does this mean they were knocked-out/killed in the explosion, or did they go flying off into space? I'm assuming they are still in the compartment, and I would like to search their bodies for weapons/ammo/cash before heading to the cargo area, if possible. If not, straight to the cargo hold.))
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Post by brendur on Jun 21, 2010 8:59:25 GMT -8
"Tom Richter, you are hereby bound by Concordian Law. Cuff yourself and stand up slowly, any sudden movements and I WILL drill you."
The bustle of the inn stopped, and immediately all eyes were on the two individuals that held their pistols with practiced steady grips. Their indigo tricorn hats marked them as servants to the Concordian Navy. The woman of the pair spoke with rigid authority, the entire room felt the need to cuff themselves, there were certainly worse fates than being cuffed by a pretty blond woman.
Tom eyed the barrel pointed at him from a smart distance, then up at the pair of sky blue eyes that looked through it's sights, chewing the last bit of salted pork that he'd shoveled in his mouth while considering the offer.
"Sarah MacIntyre" He grunted around his mouthful " What a coincidence, I had a pleasant dream about ye last night."
She would have none of it though, cocking the hammer back on the flintlock. "Come along Tom, you've got an airship to catch, and I've got the rest of Gammel's stray crew to attend to."
Tom shrugged his defeat, slowly rising to his feet, the scrape of his chair against the floor boards being the only sound in the inn for what seemed like ages. He went about the business of clapping the rusty set of irons on his wrists, he frowned slightly at the presence of rust. Why were manacles always rusty? Didn't the modern prison system have any oil in their possession? Shoving the odd thought from his head, he flashed a grin at his captor.
" Ye know, ye keep chasin me like this Sarah, and I might have to think yer gettin sweet on me. Tell ye what, shoot yer partner, hand me the key, n'we'll find ourselves a room n'get to makin ourselves a passle oh kids."
The look MacIntyre shot him would have peeled the paint off a hull. "Shut up Tom, Jenkins, if you would be so kind as to grab that rucksack by his feet. Keep it away from any flames and for God's sake keep it away from his hands."
The other officer complied with snappy action that spoke volumes. He was probably fresh out of promotion, and itching for another, this arrest would be an exciting notch in his belt.
"Can't believe we got Tick Tock Tom this easily. You sure he's the right one MacIntyre?" He studied Tom as he stood up, a bit more confidant now that Tom was disarmed. "He seems a bit short for a mass murderer."
Tom's attention suddenly snapped to Jenkins, as if seeing him for the first time. After an uncomfortable moment of silence, Tom began laughing, full lunged and boisterous.
"What's so funny?" Jenkins growled.
"Yer hat." Tom tittered " I knew the man who wore it afore ye, s'got that same little tear in the feather."
"Yeah? What about him?"
" I blew him up too."
That was when Tom grabbed him by the belt and dropped the grenade down his trousers.
Thinking about his arrest now still caused Tom to bust into small fits of laughter. Of course, blowing up Jenkins had pissed MacIntyre off something fierce. The back of his skull still ached from where she had smashed the butt of her pistol, a parting gift for scorching one side of her face.
That of course, was about the only thing he could find humorous about his situation. The navy hadn't been content to blow his captain and crew all to hell, they had to inflict this final indignity. He would throw himself overboard before going to that salt mine, anything interesting to prevent a lifetime of hard labor followed by a slow death of age or sickness. There was no dignity in such an end, no flash, and from what he heard the pay wasn't that great either.
He was just about to start banging on his cell door for lack of something to do, when the other ship was sighted. The anticipation for them to catch up gnawed at his stomach as he watched the dot in the distance slowly become a lumbering giant. The shock wave of cannon impact, though deafening and painful, brings back his best memories of fighting on Gammel's crew. He shrugs off the woozy after effects of the explosion, popping his ears to regain his balance.
The thump of the grapple, the sound of pistol shots and sword play, all serve to get his blood thrumming in his veins. He wishes he was out there, with no particular care for who the attackers are, he wishes he was out there helping them put steel to his jailers' throats. He'd bang on the door if he thought it would get it off it's hinges. He waits though, conserving energy just in case the boarding party decides that prisoners would be too much trouble to feed and take care of.
Another explosion comes, and the sweet smell of cordite hits his nose. He waits, and listens carefully as Viktor's own escape plays out, eying his rescuer's leather clad form appreciatively, but remaining quiet. He won't beg like a dog to these two, if they release him it can be on their own time, this thought of course doesn't stop his heart from leaping in his chest when his cell door opens.
He doesn't dash out right away, even if you are in a ship that's bound to go down, being trampled, or shot by one last guard sworn to do his duty, is no finer a death. When he hears stirring outside, and not the rush of panicked prisoners, he slips on out his cell moving with the other prisoners as they trickled towards the cargo hold. He considers the floor for a moment, rocking back to his heels and gauging the familiar vertigo of a ship that is out of control.
He nods as if this affirmed something in the back of his mind, then he starts searching the racks of the Cargo back for his effects, speaking his mind to all within hearing range.
"I hope to shit we've got a mechanic and a pilot worth their grease, or this is goin to be the shortest prison bust I've ever had the pleasure oh bein a part of. We need to get those control's fixed and a pilot in that nest."
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Post by Gravedust on Jun 21, 2010 11:04:29 GMT -8
((I love you guys. you are all doing awesome. ^^.. Since this is free RP and most peeps are heading into the Cargo room, ima go ahead and advance things. CP and all else will be awarded at the end of the day.))
---- The edges of the empty frame where the cargo room hatchway had been are still warm as Heloise steps through. Though windowless, the room is bathed in red emergency lighting and it's easy to make out the collection of open-topped wooden boxes pushed to one side of the compartment. Each marked "EVIDENCE - Prisoner's belongings' with initials marked underneath in chalk.
The rest of the cargo is well-secured in the usual fashion.. A cursory examination would reveal the contents to be canned food supplies, several dozen bottles of drink (uncertain exactly what at a glance, but notably not the water they've been giving you). One container is marked to indicate it contains some iron bulkhead reinforcements, meant to patch holes in the outer hull. While they are ideal for that purpose, they are just too large and too heavy for anything more delicate. The rest of the containers seem to be empty.
On the port side of the room a metal stairwell heads upwards to a higher deck, the hatch above it unsecured and propped open. From the little that can be seen from the bottom of the stairwell it appears the room is full of some sort of heavy machinery.
A large cargo door is set into the starboard bulkhead of the compartment of the compartment, tightly sealed. The control panel for the heavy door glows green, indicating it is locked shut. (This is a failsafe, the door is designed to only be openable when the ship is grounded, though this can be bypassed fairly easily.)
At the far end wall of the compartment is a hatch that most likely leads to another compartment further aft. It is dogged shut. -
Heloise locates her things easily, the edge of her toolkit is standing up above the top of the box.
Ellie arrives soon afterwards and sets about looking for her things. The search takes only a moment before she spies a box with her initials chalked on the side.
Dexter clambers into the hold next, his eyes immediately drawn to a mechanic's toolkit peeking over the edge of one of the boxes.. But no, it's taken by one of the other prisoners... His eyes run across his own gear a moment later, and happily everything he had with him seems to be in there.
Marty exits his cell and after a brief moment locates the two guards. They were caught by the heavy door as it danced off it's hinged and from the looks of things, both of them are probably going through their pockets for change to pay the ferryman right about now. Marty kneels by the uncomfortably gooey remains and gives them a once-over for for anything still worth taking... He uncovers a gun that seemed to have caught the worst of the impact. The frame is cracked and the hammer bent, making it unfireable. He finds a wallet with $3 worth of unbloodied Concordian currency. He is about to stand and move on when he notices a glint under one of the bodies. Rolling the corpse over he finds it was laying atop a sheathed sword. ((Longston Steel Cutlass.)) The handguard has been bent slightly, but otherwise the weapon is in good condition. Moving on to the cargo hold, ((I'm presuming he takes the sword, let me know if not)) he finds his other belongings in his box after a brief search.
Tom arrives in the Cargo hold a moment later, and finds his things securely packed away in a box with his initials on them, (T.T.T, either as a joke or because they weren't sure) Everything seems to be present and in place, including his spare grenade.
He says:
"I hope to shit we've got a mechanic and a pilot worth their grease, or this is goin to be the shortest prison bust I've ever had the pleasure oh bein a part of. We need to get those control's fixed and a pilot in that nest."
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(( I'm going to say that any gear that goes in a belt, hand or head slot can be (and has been) scooped up and put on immediately. Anything in the chest, legs or boot slots may take a little while to put on, so it's your choices if your characters take the time to do that.
ALSO: Everyone starting a character gets $30 to begin with, so you can add that to your character sheets now if you wish.))
ALSO ALSO: Anyone who hasn't put a turn in yet is free to move anywhere in the cargo bay or the cell compartments, to make actions. Anywhere that's described, really. ))
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kraftykate
Junior Member
Dr. David Sunday
Posts: 90
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Post by kraftykate on Jun 21, 2010 11:52:31 GMT -8
"I hope to shit we've got a mechanic and a pilot worth their grease, or this is goin to be the shortest prison bust I've ever had the pleasure oh bein a part of. We need to get those control's fixed and a pilot in that nest."
As Heloise buckles-up her tool belt and puts on her gloves, she looks up at the man who seems like he has common sense. "We've got a mechanic..." She gabs her thumb at herself and takes the rest of her belongings and stuffs them into the legs of her cargo pants. "... but someone is going to have to fly this dizzy dame while I take care of business."
For a moment, she stops and looks at the prisoners and begins to wonder what they did, but shakes it off visibly with a squint of her face and slight jerk of the head. Quickly, she ties up the ends of her pants into a knot and takes herself and the bundle up the stairwell to see what she can do. Once up the stairwell, she yells down. "If anyone else knows a damn thing about machines that would be sensational because I could use an extra pair of hands."
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Post by DeleriusDruid on Jun 21, 2010 12:31:49 GMT -8
"Two chicks, a loudmouth, a rambling twerp, and a... thing. These are my companions?" Marty thought to himself, "At least the chick with the wrench looks like she knows how to use it, but we may be in some deep trouble yet."
He gathered his possessions, taking the time to snap on his goggles and pull on his pants. He made sure his extra reload was still in his pocket, it was.
Gun at his hip, sword in his hand, he looked around the room to see if "Victor" or anyone else had left anything behind worth saving.
Not wanting to be the first up the ladder and into who knows what danger, he headed aft to inspect the "dogged" door.
((Looking for Victor's stuff, then trying to open the door to the other compartment.))
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Post by brendur on Jun 21, 2010 12:56:17 GMT -8
Tom couldn't help but smirk as he saw the box with his initials on it, if they got out of this alive he was going to take that box with him, a souvenir of this brush with death. Quickly he retrieved his beloved rucksack, strapping his belt with his sheathed dirk on, and then stuffing the rest of his clothes in the sack making sure the grenade in there was well padded and dry.
He's in his element once the sack is flung over his shoulder, a member of the Gremlin Corps, ready for action. When the mechanic spoke up he looked her over once and nodded, at least she looked the part. Following her up the stairwell Tom keeps his hand on his knife handle, looking ready for a fight to pop around any corner.
"I can run most oh the machines on these old junkers, fixing em is a another thing however."
He frowned when he saw the automatically sealing door, he didn't want to use the one grenade he had so soon, so he kept the fact that he had it to himself.
"anyone good with doors?" he crooks a thumb at the control panel.
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Post by e on Jun 21, 2010 13:13:45 GMT -8
Claire is interrupted from another round of picking through the details of her business with Kranner Jr. in a futile attempt to see just where things had started going south. It was entirely maddening as well as a damn fine lesson in her line of work to be twisted about, and by such a roach of a man, too. Ah well, at least she still had the details on Site Jane 27 close to her chest. She sits back, listening to the commotion above and waits.
When she hears a woman calling for someone Claire decides it's time to get a good view and moves to the cell door, memorizing the pair as they pass by. They look fit for a social call if she makes it offship intact.
Claire emerges from her cell as her brother Scooter goes past, flashing his fool grin at her. She calls after him "Hey, Dex, be a sweet and get my things? I'm gonna take a tour." She turns and heads in the opposite direction, stepping over guards at a brisk walk. She fusses with her ugly case of prison-hair with her fingers trying to tame it a bit as she keeps her eyes moving.
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Post by jazzs3quence on Jun 21, 2010 13:31:42 GMT -8
Scooter empties the bin with his effects and then grabs Claire's bag out of her bin and tosses her gun into it before strapping it on his back. Since the others have all taken a stop in the cargo hold to gather their stuff, Scooter leaves them to it and continues scrounging through the other boxes that haven't yet been claimed, starting with the one belonging to the prisoner named Viktor.
((If there's anything useful -- which, to Scooter, means tools, gadgets, mechanical anything, food, money -- he'll toss it in the bag on his belt. Otherwise, he'll leave it for whoever wants it, and start trying to figure out how to open the locked compartment overhead. If it looks like he might be able to get it open using what he has at hand, he'll go for it, ignoring everything/everyone else. If it looks like he'd need tools he doesn't have or things he'd need to build to get it open, he'll leave it alone and silently head to the engine room to help out.))
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Post by Gravedust on Jun 21, 2010 13:55:11 GMT -8
((Right at the moment I am waiting for Khrys to post before we go much further.))
(( @jazz: Nah, I heard you on the going through other peeps' stuff thing, but events tend to happen in the order they were posted unless I have to rearrange them, so Helouise got into the cargo bay first and hers was the only box that really had any mechanical stuff in it (IIRC). I assumed (possibly erroneously) Scoot wouldn't be grabbing things out of boxes that were at people's feet and since everyone was sort of filing into the cargo bay to collect their stuff that sort of cancelled the action as it left him w/o any likely targets. Buuuut since we haven't heard from Khrys yet, and since her character seems like the type that might be a little late coming out of the chute at a sitch like this, I'm going to say that he'll probably have gotten into Kenneth's stuff by now, and all that'll be covered if/when Khrys puts her action in. ))
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Post by jazzs3quence on Jun 21, 2010 14:05:47 GMT -8
((Yeah, Scooter doesn't really go in for things like social conventions. He'd pretty much rummage indiscriminately until someone made a move for whatever he was going through/looking at and in that case he'd just move on to the next thing. I just didn't want there to be a scuffle after DeleriusDruid declared that Marty was going after Viktor's stuff, too, and wasn't sure if you were waiting to get into that part or what. I'll shut up now and leave this to the OOC thread if it needs doing.))
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Post by Gravedust on Jun 21, 2010 14:13:23 GMT -8
((Won't be a scuffle because the object in question doesn't exist. ))
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Post by danielle1 on Jun 21, 2010 14:36:39 GMT -8
Ellie scans those in the compartment with a quickly assessing glance. Keeping her look in place and her groan of despair inside she then looks toward the other red head and gives a confident smile.
"I know a bit about fixing these ladies....oh and I can fly them...at least well enough to get us the hell out of here. I am going to need all of your help to get her going. So anyone with a mechanical bent lets go find the extent of the damage and then get me up to the wheel."
Ellie begins to walk confidently toward the exit, her bags secured with her. The tilting and rolling of the ship seems not to bother her overmuch as she moves lithely across the floor.
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Khrys
Full Member
Posts: 130
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Post by Khrys on Jun 21, 2010 21:41:32 GMT -8
Kenneth sat in his cell through the night, a placid look on his face. He considered what he did to be just and fair after being accused of causing the food shortage yesterday by eating half of the entire crew's mess-serving on his own.
Regardless of the fact that it was a preposterous lie and intended by the guard simply to vent frustration, the insult to Kenneth's ability to properly portion and ration boiled up an anger that had him reach for his cast-iron pan. Ten minutes later when two other guards sauntered into the kitchen and discovered their peer out cold on the floor while Kenneth sang and rolled bread dough, they packed Kenneth up, tossed a sack over his head and force-stepped his huge form across the still-unfamiliar ship then down to the cells, locking him into the one closest to the door.
As of this moment, his ears were still ringing. Which was a small blessing as it took his mind off of what his stomach had been thinking during the past twenty-four hours of meals: It was obvious that what he made in the kitchen galley was not the same as was served to people residing down in this metallic ghetto.
The prisoners had already stepped beyond their sprung bars and made their way to the storage area. He took this as a hint that he should do the same and hoisted his bulk up from the corner of the cell. Moving past his bars, he became one of the largest occupying objects, unintentionally blocking anyone who hadn't moved to the stairs yet.
"Pardon me, did anyone happen to see a kit bag with a pot and pan back there?" he shouts. "I'll need my fire-fighting gear from it." He lowers his volume to normal and sighs, "in order to get past any fires beyond the hatch."
He wipes his fat, sweaty hands on his shirt, missing the protective wrap of his apron and hoping someone will be kind enough to dig out his duffel. On the off chance that his apron and pot-holder mitts were also tossed in with his gear, he's willing to squeeze awkwardly past anyone in the narrow space in order to reach it himself. "It will be marked "K.B"..."K" for Kenneth."
His eyes pass over the escapees, attempting to determine which is the one to follow; he knows he's neither a leader nor an individualist and that any remaining Bethesda crew would assume he had some part in helping set these people loose. To survive, his next step would be to recover what little he owned, volunteer his value via his ability to fire fight, then assure that he proclaimed his obedience to the pack's alpha.
Unless someone else challenged her, his money was on the 5'8" red-head who was already up the stairs.
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Post by Gravedust on Jun 21, 2010 22:33:37 GMT -8
((Hmm.. Well I'm noticing that we're having a bit of a problem with positioning.. Some of the fault is probably mine in not explaining this earlier... So in the future if you want to move to a particular compartment.. you'll notice they're all both labelled and numbered.. (For instance D3C2 : Cargo Room) Try to use one or the other so I know for sure where you intend to go. This can be ((in OOC text)) if you like.
A further note on compartments: Every compartment is connected to any compartment that is HORIZONTALLY adjacent to it. It can be assumed that there is a hatchway leading between them, even though this doesn't show on the map. Compartments are only accessible VERTICALLY if there is a stairwell (the little white ladder thingie) connecting them.
The doors between the compartments may be closed, (and/or locked) in which case the compartment beyond will be greyed out completely.. But the hatchways between compartments are open and a character can at least glance inside, I'll partially reveal the contents of the room. ..So despite not being able to see the doors, you can still sort of tell ether one is open or not...
Also: The cargo door mentioned just leads outside the ship. It's used for loading and unloading of cargo and passengers, primarily.. Given the ship is many hundreds of meters into the air, cracking it open is probably not all that useful at this stage.
..And now on with the fun.))-------------- Heloise ascends the narrow stairwell and into the compartment above, followed by Tom and Ellie. As they enter the familiar, dominating shape of a massive pressure tank comes into view, marking the room as the pressure compartment, in many ways the heart of the ship. The sharp hiss of rushing steam and the odd, barely-audible harmonic vibration of the pressure vessel fills the compartment. A man lies dead in the compartment, half-propped up against the tank and looking down with an expression of quizzical shock at the wound that ended his life. His calloused hands and greasy jumpsuit mark him as a mechanic. There are two hatchways leading from the pressure chamber, fore and aft. The noise and heat radiating from the aft compartment seem to imply it is most probably the furnace, where the steam that powers the vessel is generated before being stores in the pressure chamber. Through the forward hatch one can catch a glimpse of what looks to be living quarters. Down below, Claire wanders forward to investigate Viktor's cell. It is disappointingly as spartan as the rest are, and a closer evaluation reveals nothing special in particular. As she turns to head back aft, she finds her egress blocked by Kenneth's considerable presence. "Pardon me, did anyone happen to see a kit bag with a pot and pan back there?" he shouts. "I'll need my fire-fighting gear from it. ...In order to get past any fires beyond the hatch. "It will be marked "K.B"..."K" for Kenneth." Dexter finishes his survey of the cargo room, noting that Viktor doesn't seem to have an assigned box... He does find an unclaimed one (with the initials K.B... Funny.. Hadn't that just been mentioned a second ago?) But all it seems to contain is some cooking equipment and some bulky firefighting gear. He shrugs tucks them away with his other things anyway, pans and cookware clattering. Marty finishes shimmying into his gear, then seaches briefly for Victor's box, only to come up emply, as Dexter had. Glancing up at the stairwell for a moment, he moves aft to the dogged ((which means closed and secured)) hatch. As he approaches it, the latch suddenly turns up and the door is shoved open, propelled by the boot of a Concordian sailor. "Rollie, what'n hell's going on?! I never got the order to fire! Who's got the con-" He spies Grimshot and does a neat double-take, nearly stumbling over himself as he backs back through the hatch, stammering as he goes for his gun. "Oi! Get- GET BACK IN YER CELLS!" ((Combat Phase timing is now in effect, take a look at the player's guide if you need a refresher on Combat phase. (Note that you don't have to fight just because it's combat phase. Talking and such still works if that's what you want, you just have to declare Actions.) And by the way, it's been a great 1st day. )) =========== CHARACTER UPKEEP:Ellie: +3 CP +$30 Tom: +4 CP +$30 Heloise: +4 CP +$30 Dexter: +3 CP +$90 (30 from Claire's kit. >.> 30 stolen from Kenneth,)) Marty: +3 CP +$33 + Longston Steel Cutlass (equipped belt Right) Claire: +3 CP (Dex has her cash) Kenneth: +4 CP
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Post by jazzs3quence on Jun 22, 2010 5:27:28 GMT -8
"Pardon me, did anyone happen to see a kit bag with a pot and pan back there?" he shouts. "I'll need my fire-fighting gear from it. ...In order to get past any fires beyond the hatch. "It will be marked "K.B"..."K" for Kenneth."
Dexter glances at the box he's looking at and notices the initials. He pockets the cash and takes one last look before sliding the box forward through the hatchway toward where the voice is coming from. He makes his way after the others toward the engine room and sees the body on the floor. After searching the dead mechanic numbly ((again money, tools, gadgets, shiny things, wires, cables, etc.)), he starts listening attentively to the giant machine, trying to identify any signs of stress or damage. ((If he hears anything that sounds -- to him -- out of place, he'll follow the sound wherever it goes.))
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Khrys
Full Member
Posts: 130
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Post by Khrys on Jun 22, 2010 6:08:30 GMT -8
((Kenneth will attempt to eyeball the Concordian sailor in the distance and try to recall anything about him/his job duty/the room beyond that he can offer as information to put the prisoners at an advantage. If he does think of anything he'll say it loudly. If nothing useful comes to mind he'll keep his mouth shut, his head low and head for his gear. His current plan is to dress in his FF gear and follow Heloise.
If a fight breaks out, he'll stand back and only assist after the fact by hog-tying the sailor like a fresh rump-roast. If gunplay begins he'll slip back into his cell to avoid stray bullets until someone is victorious.
My next opportunity to post may not be until 9pm PST.))
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Post by brendur on Jun 22, 2010 6:26:19 GMT -8
Tom's concerns for the door are forgotten when the shout comes the room below, the last thing they need right now is their mechanic or pilot shot. Besides, there was a few feelings he needed to convey to the Concordian Navy. Whirling on a heel he dives for the hatch to the compartment below ( D3:C2. If Dexter's in the way, he'll try not to trample him, but his first concern IS getting down there to hash it out with the gunner) calling back over his shoulder "Get to savin our arses! We'll take care oh him!"
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Post by DeleriusDruid on Jun 22, 2010 6:45:52 GMT -8
That was unexpected. Marty had assumed the ship was deserted, left to die with only the prisoners left alive. He had been wrong.
The turret room had provided a hiding place for this Concordian sailor, could there be more on board? That didn't matter right now, at this moment only the single guard before him mattered.
((I had no idea combat actions could be this complicated, yet fun. Here goes! IF the gunner moves before me, gets his gun and fires THEN 1) Move into D3C1 2) Melee attack on the gunner
ELSE IF the gunner has his gun, but has not fired 1) Move into D3C1 2) Attempt to disarm with a melee attack
ELSE IF the gunner does not have his gun yet 1) Move into D3C1 2) Intimidate (with my sword) like so:
Marty stared down the Concordian, raising his sword. "Listen, bub. We both know where I got this here cutlass, and what I could be doin' to ye with it. This ship be in trouble, and I suggest ye stay outta me and my buddies' way. Marty wondered to himself why he had called the other prisoners "buddies" when they had yet to come to any form of alliance, any kind of truce at all. But this Concordian did not need to know that.))
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kraftykate
Junior Member
Dr. David Sunday
Posts: 90
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Post by kraftykate on Jun 22, 2010 8:49:02 GMT -8
Heloise quickly inspects the pressure compartment (D2: C2) and makes her way toward the crew barracks (D2: C3) when she hears the shout.
"Oi! Get- GET BACK IN YER CELLS!"
At that she gets a look on her face that clearly says "I'm already on a heavily damaged ship in the middle of gods know where and I don't need any prick guards acting heroic." In other words, a mixture of anger and frustration.
She turns just enough to look at Tom as he runs back down the stairwell.
"Get to savin our arses! We'll take care oh him!"
She sighs and looks at Ellie expectantly, "Well, if you say you can fly darlin', come with me to the cockpit."
((Heloise will head into the next compartment, D2: C3, and try to dodge any combat that comes her way. Also, she will be taking note of any damage while she goes.))
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Post by e on Jun 22, 2010 8:53:28 GMT -8
Claire taps Kenneth as close to his shoulder as she can reach in hopes he will shift his position enough for her to squeeze past his considerable bulk. If she manages to get through, Claire's first goal is to make sure Scooter is still doing okay.
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Post by danielle1 on Jun 22, 2010 12:30:38 GMT -8
"Get to savin our arses! We'll take care oh him!"
She sighs and looks at Ellie expectantly, "Well, if you say you can fly darlin', come with me to the cockpit."
Ellie gives a grin to Heloise and with a hop begins to hurry behind her. It appears that the woman was more than a mere tinker-type and Ellie was glad of that. Glancing back again at her companions she shoots another smile,
"Don't be doing anything stupid....I dont plan on making this a over-size flying casket."
Ellie then continues, checking out her surroundings carefully as she makes her way with Heloise.
((Sorry for the short post....got somet hings on my plate and my 12 year old kid yammering, without stopping at me! Ellie will continue (if she can) with Heloise and find the ships controls, help repair if needed. IF something else happens I guess I will need to respond to that post after while!!))
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Post by Gravedust on Jun 22, 2010 17:57:06 GMT -8
Reacting to the sound of the Shout, Tom calls out; "Get to savin our arses! We'll take care oh him!" and caroms down the stairwell, landing with a thump back in the cargo bay. Surveying the scene he quickly zeros in on the source of the commotion, a standoff between one of his fellow inmates and.. Perhaps not a guard, but definitely Concordian aircrew of some nature or other. The man's hand is on his gun but so far he hasn't drawn it as Marty brandishes his newly-appropriated sword, stepping into the compartment with him. "Listen, bub. We both know where I got this here cutlass, and what I could be doin' to ye with it. This ship be in trouble, and I suggest ye stay outta me and my buddies' way." The Crewman's eyes lock onto the sword, recognizing it almost instantly. His eyes flash back to Marty's face and then to Tom out in the compartment beyond. For a moment it looks as if he's considering dropping his weapon, but then he backs away into his cramped cannon compartment, pulling his gun and keeping it pointed towards Grimshot. "Just stay back! STAY BACK!" He waves the gun. "One more step and I'll spread you all over the walls!" He takes a deep, shaky breath and then calls out. "Willis!? Declan!? ...CAN ANYONE HEAR ME, THE PRISONERS ARE FREE!! HELP!" Meanwhile, Dexter scoots up the ladder after Tom has cleared it. He listens intently to the thrumm of the pressure vessel for a moment but can't seem to find anything amiss, a cursory glance at the pressure gauges indicates that all is well as well, the only drain on the pressure is the two engines (chugging away somewhere on the deck above, from the sound of things.) He turns his attention to the fallen mechanic. He has a toolkit fixed to his belt but little else of value, aside from $9 in cash folded into a back pocket. Heloise and Ellen venture through the hatch and into the forward compartment.. It is a crew quarters, cramped and dim and smelling heavily of people and cooking, and a thousand other unidentifiable shipboard smells. Bunks line one wall and a table and chairs occupy the other, along with a number of lockers and cubbies, and a lavatory screened by a cloth curtain. The far end of the compartment ends at a hatch. The wooden sign over it labels it as the bridge. A copper plaque set into the wall near it proclaims: T1 - Condor | C47832 Keel laid 1873 Concordia Imperial Shipworks "Bethesda" has been added beneath in black stencil. The two women quietly and cautiously cross through the cluttered room. Helouise spies an odd spot on the floor from the corner of her eye and stops to examine it. Crouching slightly she recognizes it immediately as a spatter of blood, fresh enough to still be wet. Next to is is another. And another. Straightening up she follows the trail with her eyes, and finds it leads to a locker, the door just barely ajar. Inside there is a glint of metal and and hint of movement. "Clever." Says a cold voice from inside the locker. The locker door opens with a rusty squeak and a Concordian guard steps out, one hand leveling a gun on the two women, the other clutching a bleeding wound on his flank. "Now don't move... And don't cry out. Come here." Down below, Claire politely taps and then brushes past Kenneth on her way to discover what's become of Scooter. Passing into the Cargo bay but not seeing him, she edges quietly by the tableau and makes her way up the ladder into the pressure compartment. ======================================= ((I'm going to say Kenneth just sort of hovers in the area since I have no idea what he would say in a situation like this that he might consider helpful.)) ((Hel and Elle, you are not in checkmate, so you can do whatever actions you want next round. Hel made one hell of a spot roll. )) ((While we're on the subject: Stat bonuses in belt slots do not stack.. For instance if Dex went ahead and equipped the toolbelt he just found, it wouldn't give him another +10 Mechanical/repair skill. In the case that there are two different items in the belt slots that give the same stat, the one with the higher rating would go into effect, and the other one would be ignored. (He could still put it on his belt just to save a storage slot, though.))) ================================= CHARACTER UPKEEP:Dexter: +2 CP +Toolkit ((Let me know where/if you want to put this) +$9 Tom:+2 CP Marty:+2 CP Helo:+2 CP Claire:+1 CP Kenneth:+1 CP Elle:+2 CP ((CP gains are a little lower overall as there was a bonus last round that isn't being had this one. Also, remember to narrate and it's probably not best to short-post with expectations of an active day with a lot of posting.. It's never a guarantee. Combat especially will go a little slowly since I have to wait more for people. I wouldn't expect more than 1 round a day, really. Free RP goes a little faster and isn't so limiting, thankfully...))
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kraftykate
Junior Member
Dr. David Sunday
Posts: 90
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Post by kraftykate on Jun 22, 2010 18:40:04 GMT -8
The locker door opens with a rusty squeak and a Concordian guard steps out, one hand leveling a gun on the two women, the other clutching a bleeding wound on his flank.
"Now don't move... And don't cry out. Come here."
Heloise narrows her eyes and slowly raises her hands to show she's not going to fight. "This bird is going to crash unless I get to the bridge and fix the helm." Her voice is low and deadly serious. She then looks to the guards wound and nods a bit towards it. "You're already bloody and the only way you're going to avoid the Nine Devils today is to walk away when this old girl lands nice and soft. If your hide is worth anything to you at all, you'll let me do what needs doing." With that she moves toward the hatch that leads to the bridge slowly, but doesn't lower her hands. "So keep your gun on me if it makes you feel better. You know damn well this is your only chance."
Ellie is completely ignored by Heloise. She is doing her best to make the guard aware of the very real situation at hand. She is going to fix what she can and fighting be damned. Besides, one of the boys will probably blow his brains out later.
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Post by brendur on Jun 22, 2010 19:04:56 GMT -8
Tom doesn't need a second bidding as soon as the guard starts calling out for help, he's had his chance to do something smart with his life. Tom slips the long bladed dirk out it's sheath, and goes to work.
"Sorry boyo, but that's the last offer yer ever gettin!"
He's already in motion before he speaks, charging down the dingy hall of iron towards the gunner, eyeing the tendons in the wrist of the man's gunning arm with an almost feral hunger.
(( Tom's actions: 1( Move to D3C1 2( Disarm ))
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Post by Gravedust on Jun 22, 2010 19:15:42 GMT -8
((Welll... If the guard shoots first (i.e. has a better com Tac Roll) it'll be too late to dodge, so a conditional like that won't work. Additionally, dodging (Duck & Weave would be applicable versus ranged, but maybe not all that helpful) and moving would leave you no action left to attack/disarm with.) )
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Post by brendur on Jun 22, 2010 19:42:18 GMT -8
(( Doh! Just moving then.))
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