After the Win Game Thread

Just following too. Nothing of consequence to add. Still scanning the minds of the locals who do not shield their thoughts, but not specifically trying to invade anyones mind. (If squirrels cast spells here, I do not want to invade the mind of anyone without good reason.)

 

Billy tucks his chin down and grumbles into it. After the dragon's ribbing about cutting things down he can't help but be intensely curious about what's up on top of those pillars. Something important, apparently, and whatever is inside them is important. The guard had called it a Sigil Zone. It wasn't like anything he'd seen before, just like the dohickeys the giants in the last world had been using. And it was right by where they'd arrived, just like the ladder down had been last time.

Things to think about.

Unfortunately, as much as Billy would have liked to simply whack the guard over the head and look around a bit, the rest of the boys looked like they'd settled on a non-violent, deception-centric method of getting out of the problem. He seriously wanted to climb up one of those pillars, but now didn't seem like the time.

He followed the others as they tromped away, looking back over his shoulder at the pilars as he walked, still grumbling under his breath.

 

The party moves through town, which is in the gross medieval French style -- people pouring their chamberpots out their second story windows onto the street and so forth. But when you get to the fountain and turn, you're clearly turning onto the rich-people's street (they have gardens in their backyards that they dump their chamberpots in, so the street smells much better.)

When you arrive in the Hollowmere Hotel, they take a staggering quantity of money off of Zebedev, and guide you up to the top floor. The bellboy clearly indicates to everyone where the bath is and suggests that you all clean up before you come down for dinner. The suite is huge and beautiful, and well-stocked with everything except liquor or prostitutes. A man comes up shortly thereafter and announces himself as your concierge, assuring you that anything you want is available (for a price, naturally).

The group takes it's time and unwinds a bit, getting clean, having various torn clothing items sent out for servicing, and generally re-uniting themselves with the notion of civilization. A few good meals and one good night's sleep later...

(time to strategize. who has what suspicions, wants to check out what, etc.?)

 

I start exploring the minds of the servants. Not particularly deep stuff, just trying to get a general feel for what is wrong with this world. Who is in power, and what names need to be known as we go about. That sort of thing. And I ask the concierge "Who should I speak with to learn things others would prefer to keep secret?".

Then I ask the group who is willing and able to accompany me as I seek out this person or group who knows things we will need to know? I make it clear I am in need of someone to guard me. If I must, I will hire a burly bodyguard after deeply checking the mind of whomever advises the guard, and the guard themselves. (But hopefully one of our group will be able and willing to accompany me.)

I will also be seeking maps and such for the area to see where we are and what is nearby. Trouble is usually the easiest thing to find in any world. And once we find where the most of that resides, we likely have found what we need to fix here. Or at least a good place to start stirring things up until we do find our target.

Spoiler: Just a question about my character

Am I even able to defend myself in simple melee? Or am I pretty-much only capable of mind-rape? Do I use weapons, or do I resort to the tried and true "Run like the Coward you are!" technique?

 

After they arrived to the hotel they were to use as their base of operation, Oleandre knew what to do. Having presented himself as someone working for Zebedev, he spent the beginning of his time here unwinding just like the others did (though, admittedly, without him relaxing his mental defences) but made sure to subtly mention that "Mr Futuo" was a powerful person whose guards had perished along the way. Unless there was no underground in this realm, something that he found to be extremely unlikely, then doing so was guaranteed to bring the attention of underground bosses to their group and make it possible for him to get a source of information.

It was then that he heard the mind reader ask if any one of them was willing to escort him while he investigates. It was likely to result in a waste of time because even if he could read minds, he wasn't likely to find anything related to the underground in any way if they were any good at keeping themselves hidden. No, if anything, they had to come for you if you wanted to talk with them; this is why he was trying to make the senator into an attractive target for them, after all.
And on the other hand, it was an opportunity. Because none of the rest of them knew anything about cities, he could try to corner him and find the answers he wanted to, and then leave him to the lesser scum if the answers he got were not satisfactory.

"I'll do it."

He only hoped the whole escapade would not take more time than he could leave them alone for. Not because they could not defend themselves, oh no, but rather because getting to the underground without that would be really hard.

 

Billy trimmed a new cigar and puffed it thoughtfully as Blue and Oleandre plotted their little escapade. It all sounded very interesting, if not exactly to his taste.

"While we're all sitting around talking," he said, "I should mention de pillars. Mighty strange, if you ask me. I'd kinda like t'see what's at de top of 'em, if we get a chance. See if we can find out someting about de seal zone, too. I dink someone should go back and scout it out a little. I'll go, if'n I can find me way back."

 

Oleandre let out an easily noticeable sigh.

"Yeah, the darn pillars really are weird. I'd wager a guess they are related to what we have to do in that wretched place, so investigate all you want. Just don't leave the frecking senator alone, if there's anything I know it's that the underground gets what it wants, and we want to get them when they come to try."

Having said that, he started preparing himself for their leave, just as the mind reader did the same. Only a few minutes later, the two of them left into the night...

 

Gettout: you learn from the servants concerns that the place is run by people called the "Most High" (singular and plural). The Most High apparently appear once a month from the pillar areas, let people know what the rules are, adjudicate any court cases that the worldly authorities cannot. They also apparently write magical sigils all over the place when they appear, and those sigils are a major cause of concern for people because seemingly they occasionally explode, petrify random people, or generally just fuck things up.

They're going to appear tomorrow at dawn, and come out of the pillar area along the same road you did, on their way to the city hall where they do the announcements and adjudications.


That evening, however, Oleandre's suspicions come true -- as everyone, in the middle of the night, is woken up from their sound sleep by the sound of a glass decanter shattering on their kitchen floor and the sounds of loud voices. "Listen up, you shiftless rich-bitch bastards! It's time to come to Jesus! Get your asses in here before we drag them in here!" The air rapidly starts to fill with brandy fumes.

Responses?

 

(By the way, the layout is pretty simple: there's a long hallway on one end of the suite that has bedrooms, bathrooms, and a closet. All of you are in those bedrooms. the hallway opens up into the grand room, and adjoining the grand room on the opposite side is the kitchen, another bathroom (with hot tub), a laundry area, and a balcony. The balcony door is open, but the door to the stairwell down (the only way out) has a couch in front of it.

 

I walk out without a worry in the world and lightly scan the minds of those visiting us. I try to determine from their own knowledge how many there are, and what sort of threat they are. Anything I learn is rapidly sent to the rest of the group so they all know what I know. (Meaning if the first thing I see is someone in the shadows shooting tranquilizer darts at me, then the rest know to expect that before I hit the ground.)

Presuming I am not attacked on sight, I ask if they have any brandy left. (Mostly a cover for the fact that I am reading surface thoughts all the while.)

 

There are seven visitors. Five of them are brute thugs that are there to be threatening and break stuff (including people) if they're needed. Two of those are apparently pyrokinetic.

One considers himself a master assassin and is already invisible, but is telling himself "these people aren't threats yet. Calm down, Widowmaker." He's apparently talking to his dagger.

The last is an ineffectual middle-management suckup trying his damnedest to put on a show of being a mob boss, but he's secretly scared out of his mind. His goal is to bring you all into the mob hideout so that you can meet with the real mob boss, who is far too paranoid to leave. He believes you'll cow easily, so he's going with the 'burn this mother down' routine. The brandy is intended to burn brightly and threateningly without actually doing significant damage to the hotel.

 

When you ask about the brandy, the IMMS looks at you with a haughty demeanor and says "Sure, friend. How about..." he pauses to dramatically light a cigar and hold it over the off-gassing puddle of booze, "...a senator flambé?"

 

Oleandre knew how to deal with thugs. After all, he spent a part of his life being one of them, and even though he had later become someone more valuable than a mere goon due to his experience and ability, the fact remained that he knew how to deal with them. And you did it by making them stop and think about the fact that they were becoming more scared of you than of their boss.
Which was why when dealing with them, one had to make a good impression with their first move. That was why he had to learn to throw things impressively quickly at first, because if he could not throw them with impressive accuracy, he could still make an impression by cutting a line in the wall with thrown daggers.

He stepped out of his room and stood near the mind reader. From his hyperspace pouch, he took one vial full of weird ice that glistened and constantly changed shape like a kaleidoscope, as well as three random daggers. The daggers he threw in the direction where the "invisible" assassin would be (according to what the mind reader showed him via his thoughts), and as soon as the wounded man, or just a corpse, fell onto the ground, he spoke up.

"I don't think threatening us like that will do a damn thing. You see, first of all, there's not enough of you."

With that, Oleandre threw the vial of enchanted ice onto the floor near the man who thought he was the thugs' leader. As it hit the floor and broke, a thin layer of blue-tinted ice froze all the brandy there.

"Second, you aren't skilled enough to take on an effing guard, not to even say us."

With that, Oleandre started slowly walking towards the man. Every step he made, he tried to make it as audible for anyone in the room as possible.

"And frecking third, I'm a much better villain than you could ever be, and I know your threats are shit."

With that he came to a halt in the middle of the room. He prepared a few more thrown blades in case any of the thugs got the bright idea of attacking him, and started talking again, keeping one of his blades visibly balancing between his fingers.

"But, we are willing to negotiate. You see, we don't give a turd about your underground empire of whatever size and we don't care what happens to this whole frecking town. But we need information if we aren't to go Promethean on this place, and we have some info of our own for trade. Tell your boss to meet us on our terms, and we'll be willing to trade."

 

I remain carefree and follow Flingy and do whatever I can to support him. All the while scanning the minds of our assailants.

If any come at us directly I will spend a moment to convince them that their friends have betrayed them and get them to fight one another. (My prospective is (Why should we bother to fight them when we can make them do the fighting for us?")

If the underlings actually obey the IMMS, then I make him order them to stand down.

 

There's a lot of posturing going on, but most of it doesn't seem terribly relevant to Billy, who is much more used to life in Nature. Urban environments are confusing and even easier to get lost in than the natural world, so he's developed the ability to ignore most things he doesn't really care about. Yes, this does sort of create a self-sustaining cycle of apparent cluelessness, but that's never really bothered him.

He did notice one thing of interest, though. The IMMS fellow has a nice smelling cigar.

That's not really important at the moment, so Billy just picks up the sofa and makes it clear that he's willing to use it. Revving up the chainsword for small fries would be a waste of time, and besides he forgot to grab it when he ran out of the room.

 

Daggers fly. There's a distinct "Augh!" and a thump, but no blood and no visible assassin.

Oleandre delivers his speech. As the goon squad is processing this, Billy casually hefts the sofa, and both pyrokinetics' heads suddenly slam into the nearest respective walls with a pair of sounds like someone hitting ripe melons with a cricket bats. They both fall down and don't move.

The IMMS stares in bewilderment at Oleandre, and everyone can see cogs turning in his head. This is way over his pay grade...on the other hand, they can't get away with this...on the other hand, pain kind of sucks. The cognitive dissonance grows in his head very quickly, and Gettout can tell that he's rapidly approaching the moment when he's going to crack and either submit completely or do something desperate.

Then, he dies. His throat suddenly stops existing, replaced by blood that sprays rather neatly directly into Oleandre's eyes. The assassin appears with a dagger sticking out of one hip and another in his thigh. The third he apparently caught and is currently dual-wielding along with his own dagger, which looks very much like someone broke a shard of night sky off and sharpened it on a n-dimensional whetstone.

"All right, you're impressive. I'll give you that," the assassin says. "But there's no way in hell the boss is going to meet you on your terms. You can come talk to him at his place, or, you know, not at all. It's obvious you set us up because you wanted to meet us -- well, you got your wish and now you know the terms. What do you want me to tell him?"

 

We want information. And we can probably help you out in quite a few ways too. Just do not push too hard or things will get far more ugly than this little picnic we planned.

Tell your boss that we let you go because we are not your enemies. And our goals may be compatible. At the very least, if you and your associates do not attempt to set us up we can all walk away better off. Except you, would you like a heal potion for your wounds? Perhaps a cane to help you walk out of here with some dignity?

Our terms are simple. No hostility. If you break this your entire organization will be broken as will everyone in it.
Can you carry this message and do you expect we can rely on this compromise to be respected? (I am scanning him directly while I ask this.)