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{{Infobox Grass Spiders}} | |||
''Suggested music: Apocalyptica - Hall of the Mountain King'' | ''Suggested music: Apocalyptica - Hall of the Mountain King'' | ||
==The Job== | ==The Job== | ||
'''Client:''' The Guild<br/> | |||
'''Target:''' Morey Lacuna<br/> | '''Target:''' Morey Lacuna<br/> | ||
'''Target background:''' Morey Lacuna is an entrepreneur and engineer from Great Forks. After successfully raiding an outer storehouse in Denandsor, Morey used the technology he recovered to construct a steam-powered train and railroad between Great Forks and Nexus. He quickly spun this convenient and fast form of transport into an immensely successful shipping business, and is now the primary exporter of Great Forks-grown narcotic crops to Nexus. The Guild was less than pleased about this prospect, and took action against Morey. At first, moves were economic - the Guild attempted sanctions, undercutting, and any number of less-than-fair business practices. These all failed - buyers were simply too invested in the notion of having fast, guaranteed shipment, especially in the troublesome Second Age, where barbarian and bandit attacks made even armed caravans an uncertain prospect at best. The Guild tried to take military action next, but Morey outmaneuvered them there, too - He's surrounded himself with hired Seventh-Legion soldiers and powerful automaton bodyguards from Denandsor. Eventually, Morey grew more paranoid, and snapped. He now lives on the train he built, surrounded by his closest advisors, most of whom are automated. He speaks to almost nobody, communicating with the subordinates in his shipping organization via notes passed under a door. Morey's keen business sense had not dulled, however - he increased his profitability ten-fold when he made the train a tourist attraction for the wealthy. | '''Target background:''' Morey Lacuna is an entrepreneur and engineer from Great Forks. After successfully raiding an outer storehouse in Denandsor, Morey used the technology he recovered to construct a steam-powered train and railroad between Great Forks and Nexus. He quickly spun this convenient and fast form of transport into an immensely successful shipping business, and is now the primary exporter of Great Forks-grown narcotic crops to Nexus. The Guild was less than pleased about this prospect, and took action against Morey. At first, moves were economic - the Guild attempted sanctions, undercutting, and any number of less-than-fair business practices. These all failed - buyers were simply too invested in the notion of having fast, guaranteed shipment, especially in the troublesome Second Age, where barbarian and bandit attacks made even armed caravans an uncertain prospect at best. The Guild tried to take military action next, but Morey outmaneuvered them there, too - He's surrounded himself with hired Seventh-Legion soldiers and powerful automaton bodyguards from Denandsor. Eventually, Morey grew more paranoid, and snapped. He now lives on the train he built, surrounded by his closest advisors, most of whom are automated. He speaks to almost nobody, communicating with the subordinates in his shipping organization via notes passed under a door. Morey's keen business sense had not dulled, however - he increased his profitability ten-fold when he made the train a tourist attraction for the wealthy. | ||
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* Lacuna has to die in a way that cannot be traced back to hostile business practices - the Guild hired the Grass Spiders to avoid the political fallout associated with slaying its competitors. | * Lacuna has to die in a way that cannot be traced back to hostile business practices - the Guild hired the Grass Spiders to avoid the political fallout associated with slaying its competitors. | ||
* The train doesn't have to blow up during the job, but it also doesn't have to ''not'' blow up during the job. | * The train doesn't have to blow up during the job, but it also doesn't have to ''not'' blow up during the job. | ||
* As always, non-combatants are off limits. Even if passengers join combat, they are not to be harmed, only neutralized - many of them are major Guild customers. | |||
'''Team:''' [[Lord of the Ashen Cloud]], [[Zealot of Iconoclastic Virtue]], [[Opal]], [[Mesa]], [[Fay Morgana]]<br/> | |||
'''Expected Threats:''' | |||
* Seventh-Legion hired security (Threat level: Soliders - minor, Officers - medium, probability of encounter: High) | |||
* Automaton bodyguards (Threat level: High, probability of encounter: Medium) | |||
* Wealthy passengers' bodyguards (Threat level: Minor, probability encounter: low) | |||
* Terrestrial Exalted supporters of Morey (Threat level: Medium, probability of encounter: low) | |||
==Mission Status== | |||
'''Job:''' Complete<br/> | |||
'''Dates:''' Ascending Air 6 - 8, R.Y. 769<br/> | |||
'''Kill:''' Ash and Fay boarded the train as passengers, while Mesa slipped aboard as a crew member. Opal and Zealot air-dropped onto the train after Morey's car had been located. The group infiltrated Morey Lacuna's armored train car and framed his automaton guards for his death. The kill was made by Ash.<br/> | |||
'''Quote of the night:''' "... There was a mishap." (Fay)<br/> | |||
'''Exp. Awarded:''' Base - 5 (6 for Ash) | |||
==The Aftermath== | |||
''Ascending Air 8, R.Y. 769, Night'' | |||
The Circle With No Name had gathered on the deck of the ''Geronimo'' immediately after their mission. They were safely airborne (after a brief pit stop to pick up Mesa's "trophy") and on their way back to the range homes. They had pulled a variety of different boxes at varying heights into a circle, which they sat on, facing inwards. They passed around a bottle of whiskey pulled from the cargo hold while they talked. | |||
Zealot wiped his mouth with his wrist before passing the bottle left to Ash, speaking as he did so. "Ah. I think that went pretty well, all in all. To be honest, I'm a little disappointed we didn't pull off the airlift, but we certainly got the job done." | |||
Opal gave Zealot a consoling grin, eying the bottle Ash was sipping from with some jealousy. "Don't worry Zealot - we'll get there. Believe me, for a five-man job, this was smooth as silk. You should ask Champ about the Shaded Templar's first mission as a circle." | |||
Zealot chuckled, "I'll concede that I imagined it being a lot bumpier than it was. We should ''definitely'' make the sky drop a mainstay, though." | |||
Mesa, all to eager to chime in, spoke up, "Seconded. Except I'm part of it next time. Anyway, I was thinking about this on the way up - why didn't we just ride the train to Nexus? Seems like that woulda been more elegant. Was the tuck'n'roll really necessary?" | |||
Opal, the veteran member among them, replied, "Generally, unless it's going to make the hit really obvious, it's in your best interests not to hang around after work for too long... Especially with ''you two'' around." She half-jokingly gestured to Ash and Mesa as she accepted the bottle from Ash. "Besides, Zealot and I were hardly dressed to bump wine glasses with the Confed's ''((Cultural note: Confederation of Rivers))'' high society." | |||
Mesa shrugged sheepishly. "Well, I guess I can't argue too much with that. You guys coulda gotten something outta Ash's bags, though." | |||
Fay chimed in, realizing only partway through her reply what Mesa was insinuating. "She could've had one of my gowns... " Her voice trailed off and faded into a small sigh, having picked up on Mesa's joke. She continued, "You know, my luggage is still on that train. Yeah, it was kinda part of the act, but that was actually my stuff." | |||
Mesa gestured towards Opal, smirking at Fay's suggestion that Opal would borrow her formal wear. | |||
"I'd love to know the last time Butch Diamond over there wore a ''dress''." The fact that Opal bedded at least as many women as men made her an easy target for Mesa's ever-present commentary, and her minimal efforts to appear feminine on anything more than cursory level weren't doing her any favors. | |||
Opal rolled her eyes and handed the bottle over to Mesa even as she fired back with a jeer of her own. She replied sarcastically, "Oh ha ha, now maybe I'll go smoke pot for three days and play my banjo on the Manse steps while everyone else gets better at their job." | |||
Mesa's eyebrows raised as he leaned forward and offered a correction to only a single part of her parody. "It's a sanxian. There's a ''big'' difference." | |||
Opal knew there was no winning, and her attention turned to the splitting pain in her side and midsection, looking to Ash. "We got anyone who could patch this up?" | |||
Mesa tipped his box, leaning back and letting slip a suggestive grin. "I could take a look at it." | |||
Putting out the fire before it started, Ravenous Moon, Waning Heart chimed in, looking back between her wings from the ship's wheel. | |||
"I can bandage it up, Opal. Want to take the helm, Cap'n?" Ash nodded, standing as he chuckled at the conversation. Moon left the wheel and Ash passed her as he walked over to it. Moon stopped just behind the box Opal was sitting on and smiled down to her. | |||
"We have some medical supplies below deck. Rizuka might have to handle the stitches if any are needed, but we should at least be able to get it cleaned and bandaged." Moon looked up before proceeding toward the deck stairs. "Everyone else okay?" | |||
After receiving a show of affirmative responses, Moon started walking and gestured for Opal to follow. She got up with a slight groan, speaking once she stood. | |||
"Thanks, Moon." After taking a few steps, Opal looked back at Mesa with a grin, belatedly retorting, "You haven't got anything Butch Diamond is interested in anyway." |
Latest revision as of 03:15, 22 June 2013
Exalted: |
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Chapter 2 |
The Circle With No Name |
Suggested music: Apocalyptica - Hall of the Mountain King
The Job
Client: The Guild
Target: Morey Lacuna
Target background: Morey Lacuna is an entrepreneur and engineer from Great Forks. After successfully raiding an outer storehouse in Denandsor, Morey used the technology he recovered to construct a steam-powered train and railroad between Great Forks and Nexus. He quickly spun this convenient and fast form of transport into an immensely successful shipping business, and is now the primary exporter of Great Forks-grown narcotic crops to Nexus. The Guild was less than pleased about this prospect, and took action against Morey. At first, moves were economic - the Guild attempted sanctions, undercutting, and any number of less-than-fair business practices. These all failed - buyers were simply too invested in the notion of having fast, guaranteed shipment, especially in the troublesome Second Age, where barbarian and bandit attacks made even armed caravans an uncertain prospect at best. The Guild tried to take military action next, but Morey outmaneuvered them there, too - He's surrounded himself with hired Seventh-Legion soldiers and powerful automaton bodyguards from Denandsor. Eventually, Morey grew more paranoid, and snapped. He now lives on the train he built, surrounded by his closest advisors, most of whom are automated. He speaks to almost nobody, communicating with the subordinates in his shipping organization via notes passed under a door. Morey's keen business sense had not dulled, however - he increased his profitability ten-fold when he made the train a tourist attraction for the wealthy.
Although expensive, tickets can be purchased to ride along in one of the train's luxurious passenger cars. Morey was able to win the hearts of poorer classes by cutting shipping costs to remote villages which laid on the path of the railroad. These villagers were able to purchase quality goods they'd not been previously able to afford, resulting in an explosion of businesses and craftsmen and a general boost in Scavenger Lands rural economy, generating an enormous stream of profits, most of which did not go back to the Guild. At this point, however, the situation was sticky - many of the Guild's smaller suppliers now depended on Morey's technology and generous business practices to thrive. The Guild was no longer simply in a position to overpower and kill Morey, as that came with it the risk of upsetting a great deal of smaller businesses critical to the Guild's rural operations. That's where the Grass-Spiders come in.
Critical Notes:
- Lacuna has to die in a way that cannot be traced back to hostile business practices - the Guild hired the Grass Spiders to avoid the political fallout associated with slaying its competitors.
- The train doesn't have to blow up during the job, but it also doesn't have to not blow up during the job.
- As always, non-combatants are off limits. Even if passengers join combat, they are not to be harmed, only neutralized - many of them are major Guild customers.
Team: Lord of the Ashen Cloud, Zealot of Iconoclastic Virtue, Opal, Mesa, Fay Morgana
Expected Threats:
- Seventh-Legion hired security (Threat level: Soliders - minor, Officers - medium, probability of encounter: High)
- Automaton bodyguards (Threat level: High, probability of encounter: Medium)
- Wealthy passengers' bodyguards (Threat level: Minor, probability encounter: low)
- Terrestrial Exalted supporters of Morey (Threat level: Medium, probability of encounter: low)
Mission Status
Job: Complete
Dates: Ascending Air 6 - 8, R.Y. 769
Kill: Ash and Fay boarded the train as passengers, while Mesa slipped aboard as a crew member. Opal and Zealot air-dropped onto the train after Morey's car had been located. The group infiltrated Morey Lacuna's armored train car and framed his automaton guards for his death. The kill was made by Ash.
Quote of the night: "... There was a mishap." (Fay)
Exp. Awarded: Base - 5 (6 for Ash)
The Aftermath
Ascending Air 8, R.Y. 769, Night
The Circle With No Name had gathered on the deck of the Geronimo immediately after their mission. They were safely airborne (after a brief pit stop to pick up Mesa's "trophy") and on their way back to the range homes. They had pulled a variety of different boxes at varying heights into a circle, which they sat on, facing inwards. They passed around a bottle of whiskey pulled from the cargo hold while they talked.
Zealot wiped his mouth with his wrist before passing the bottle left to Ash, speaking as he did so. "Ah. I think that went pretty well, all in all. To be honest, I'm a little disappointed we didn't pull off the airlift, but we certainly got the job done."
Opal gave Zealot a consoling grin, eying the bottle Ash was sipping from with some jealousy. "Don't worry Zealot - we'll get there. Believe me, for a five-man job, this was smooth as silk. You should ask Champ about the Shaded Templar's first mission as a circle."
Zealot chuckled, "I'll concede that I imagined it being a lot bumpier than it was. We should definitely make the sky drop a mainstay, though."
Mesa, all to eager to chime in, spoke up, "Seconded. Except I'm part of it next time. Anyway, I was thinking about this on the way up - why didn't we just ride the train to Nexus? Seems like that woulda been more elegant. Was the tuck'n'roll really necessary?"
Opal, the veteran member among them, replied, "Generally, unless it's going to make the hit really obvious, it's in your best interests not to hang around after work for too long... Especially with you two around." She half-jokingly gestured to Ash and Mesa as she accepted the bottle from Ash. "Besides, Zealot and I were hardly dressed to bump wine glasses with the Confed's ((Cultural note: Confederation of Rivers)) high society."
Mesa shrugged sheepishly. "Well, I guess I can't argue too much with that. You guys coulda gotten something outta Ash's bags, though."
Fay chimed in, realizing only partway through her reply what Mesa was insinuating. "She could've had one of my gowns... " Her voice trailed off and faded into a small sigh, having picked up on Mesa's joke. She continued, "You know, my luggage is still on that train. Yeah, it was kinda part of the act, but that was actually my stuff."
Mesa gestured towards Opal, smirking at Fay's suggestion that Opal would borrow her formal wear.
"I'd love to know the last time Butch Diamond over there wore a dress." The fact that Opal bedded at least as many women as men made her an easy target for Mesa's ever-present commentary, and her minimal efforts to appear feminine on anything more than cursory level weren't doing her any favors.
Opal rolled her eyes and handed the bottle over to Mesa even as she fired back with a jeer of her own. She replied sarcastically, "Oh ha ha, now maybe I'll go smoke pot for three days and play my banjo on the Manse steps while everyone else gets better at their job."
Mesa's eyebrows raised as he leaned forward and offered a correction to only a single part of her parody. "It's a sanxian. There's a big difference."
Opal knew there was no winning, and her attention turned to the splitting pain in her side and midsection, looking to Ash. "We got anyone who could patch this up?"
Mesa tipped his box, leaning back and letting slip a suggestive grin. "I could take a look at it."
Putting out the fire before it started, Ravenous Moon, Waning Heart chimed in, looking back between her wings from the ship's wheel.
"I can bandage it up, Opal. Want to take the helm, Cap'n?" Ash nodded, standing as he chuckled at the conversation. Moon left the wheel and Ash passed her as he walked over to it. Moon stopped just behind the box Opal was sitting on and smiled down to her.
"We have some medical supplies below deck. Rizuka might have to handle the stitches if any are needed, but we should at least be able to get it cleaned and bandaged." Moon looked up before proceeding toward the deck stairs. "Everyone else okay?"
After receiving a show of affirmative responses, Moon started walking and gestured for Opal to follow. She got up with a slight groan, speaking once she stood.
"Thanks, Moon." After taking a few steps, Opal looked back at Mesa with a grin, belatedly retorting, "You haven't got anything Butch Diamond is interested in anyway."