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Post by EK - Shadow of Death on Oct 19, 2005 15:15:18 GMT -5
This thread contains any activity that goes on in Ribcage's Gymnasium of Steam. If you have not been invited to participate in this board, please do not join.
As of this posting, only Stik may post in this thread.
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Post by EK - Shadow of Death on Oct 19, 2005 15:15:49 GMT -5
It should have been a simple job. The man was some berk from Sigil with ambitions of dark power and grandeur; Lucius Ferrick was his name. He just wanted a jester to provide entertainment while he sweet-talked his fiendish business partner. Two hours of performing at one of the steambaths at the famous Gymnasium of Steam, one of the best resort establishments this side of the ring. A very fair, simple job worth 200 jinx, with the possibility of further business down the line. Too bad that's out of the picture... The politics went way above your head, but it seems as if the proprieter, Shandrala, took some exception to the osyluth accompanying your employer, and had your group sent to the "special"baths. The gangly baatezu enjoyed himself for about 10 minutes before he even noticed that his scaled skin had begun to melt off. He didn't take long to the blame Ferrick for the ill treatment and stung the human quite viciously with that scorpion tail of his. Five seconds later and you were huddled in a corner with two meaty barbazu hanging over you, hoping above hope that the osyluth would decide not to turn you into the black-blooded corpse that was now your former employer.
Luckily, a quick sword from one of Ferrick's idiotic bodyguards brought the conflict to a whole new level. It seems that Ferrick had friends who had come to avenge him. The barbazu lept into the fray, zealously slashing to and fro with their serrated polearms while the osyluth contemplated his actions, giving you the opportunity to slip unnoticed into a side hallway. When the room behind you lit up with magic and explosions, you abandoned all thoughts of safety and dashed down the hall, bumping headfirst into retinue of heavily armed Blackguard soldiers. The Ribcage militiamen were apparently running towards the battle to get a piece of the action, but the sight of a spooked fop brought a sinister smile to their lips. Immediately, images of the grisly stories you've been told about the brutal Blackguard, and their horribly ways came to your mind. The lead soldier drew a curved dagger with one hand and reached out for your arm with the other. With a yelp of terror, you batted away his gauntlet and leapt between another soldier's legs, coming up to your feet in a flash. With six murderous soldiers hot on your tail, you recklessly flew down a corner, tearing past an open doorway and into one of the Gymnasium's attached restaurants.
This place is certainly a classy affair. It is a huge room, tiled completely in black slate and white marble, and populated by well-dressed customers from all across the planes. At one table, a guardinal talks softly to a pair of aasimar, while at another table, a large group of gold-draped humans laugh heartily at some obscure joke. A few small groups of blue-skinned Rilmani, rarely seen denizens of the Outlands, were also scattered around the dining floor, amidst a slieu of other customers of races you didn't have time to identify. There was no way that you, in your ragged attire, would go unnoticed in a place like this. A pair of bald, heavily armed soldiers stand guard at the opposite end of the room. They did not bear the mark of the Blackguard, but were definetely some other group of professional soldiers or mercenaries. Whoever they were, it didn't seem as if they would take kindly to intruders.
Before you is a table with a single patron, a female elf wearing a shimmering dress that barely covers her thin frame. Behind you, is the kitchen, bustling with activity as waiters pour in and out in a neverending stream. Just beyond the kitchen doors, you can see the stairway leading up into what appears to be a cellar. Just to your right is a small bar, manned by a serious-looking human who seems quite startled at your sudden appearance.
You can hear the metal boots of the Blackguard soldiers charging up the hallway towards the door. They will be here momentarily, and there is no doubt that this place will searched. They are quite thorough when it comes to the hunt.
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Stik
Peasant
Posts: 39
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Post by Stik on Oct 19, 2005 22:49:15 GMT -5
Martin quickly steps through the doorway into the dining room. Running is not an option, not with all his gear in hand. And if he is going to hide, he will hide on a stage, even if it is one he has to make himself. Having just entered a new setting, he knows that, as the new element in the room, he has only seconds to make a proper entrance or lose the attention of the people there.
He walks rapidly to the elven lady’s table. Doffing his huge hat, he sketches a very quick bow and says: “Good lady, may I know your name, so that I might remember to mention you in my prayers?” Upon hearing her name, he deposits his bag, instrument case and hat at her table. “I am called Martin, and if it please you, lady, I shall leave these things in your charge momentarily while I brighten some otherwise drear and solemn lives.” With that, Martin bounds across the room, motley cloak atwirl, singing one long, loud, continuous, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaa…….” which carries him to the center of the room and back to the bar, which he very slowly and deliberately steps up onto, still holding the note and turning it into the first word of his song as he tosses aside his cloak: “aaaaaaaaaaaaa……..
“……aaaaaa King of Elves there was of old, Saranrap was his name, Who slew the orcs at Mellowmarsh, and Soredd's host did tame. And with him marched the stubby dwarves, drafted from their mines, But when the fearsome battle raged, they hid behind the lines. They hid behind the lines!
“Angered was the Elven King, about to raise the dickens, 'Just let me get my hands,' quoth he, 'on those half-pint chickens!' Fearful were the chicken-Dwarves, but mickle crafty too. King Yellowbac, their skins to save, the elves did try to woo. The elves he tried to woo!
“'If you doubt our loyalty,' Yello told the King, 'Take this gift, a dwarven sword, that packs a mighty sting. 'Clearisil, it's called by name,' the clever Dwarf spoke on, 'Accept this gift, and let us let our bygones be bygone. ‘Our bygones be bygone.’
“'I accept this wondrous gift, and think you Dwarves are tops,' The Elf-King said, and took the sword, and smote him in the chops. And since that day it's said by all, in ballad, lay and poem: 'Only trust an elf or dwarf as far as you can throw 'em!' As far as you can throw 'em!"
He waits for applause, fervently hoping for same. Of course, if this doesn't work, at least he has managed to get his gear and cloak stowed out of the way and his hands free in case he needs to fight his way out.
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Post by EK - Shadow of Death on Oct 21, 2005 15:18:35 GMT -5
The elf woman doesn't appear startled at Martin's sudden entrance, and gives him an icy stare in response to his question. As he walks through the hall, singing loudly and flamboyantly, the first thing he notices are the surprised looks on the faces of the patrons. They were obviously not expecting something quite as baudy as this. As Martin unrepentantly continues his song, he sees the two burly guards walking steadily towards him, hands on their swords.
Suddenly, the six Blackguard soldiers burst through the front door. A few patrons gasp and move away from the soldiers' hulking figures. The female elf, though, sits unmoved by their presence. The guards move towards her, standing as a human shield between the Blackguard and the dining hall. Martin appears to be almost completely forgotten, save by the small Rilmani family who weakly looks up at him in a mix of awe and outrage.
The elf rises regally, flanked by the two heavily armed guards, in ready resistance to the Blackguard.
OUT! she commands in a voice far too large for her Before I have your heads!
The Blackguard soldiers were fuming. Their leader gnashes his teeth momentarily, but turns and steps out the door quietly. He flashes Martin a glance that could kill before leaving the hall, his soldiers following suit.
The elf turns sharply towards Martin. Her face is as silent as stone, her eyes frozen with anger. She takes slow, measured steps towards Martin, gliding across the room like a ghost. Her guards are quick to follow, their large, dark figures in contrasting heavily with hers.
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Stik
Peasant
Posts: 39
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Post by Stik on Oct 21, 2005 21:28:27 GMT -5
"Tough room," Martin mutters, at the lack of applause. He chooses not to pull the small silk “APPLAUSE” flag from his belt, and steps down from the bar instead.
At the lady’s approach, he bows again, eyes on the lady but at the same time watching for any sudden movements from the guardsmen. "My apologies, most gracious lady, for my impulsiveness, and my most humble thanks for coming to my assistance. In bringing these fine men to my defense against those brigands, you have done me a service, for I’d no interest in learning how many of them it might take to best me.
"I am very new to this place, and unfamiliar with the customs, but I have always been taught to return a favor with a favor, and would do so now. Is there a song or a tale or some feat of the hand that you would see? Surely, there is some small entertainment the finest jester in this room might offer in thanks for your timely assistance."
Martin’s mind is racing: ‘The guards are big, but probably not slow, but still probably not faster than I am. Cloak is here. Gear is over there by the table, not easy to carry, but worth stopping for, particularly if I can cause some chaos in the room in the process. I've got my blade, and my bouquet…’
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Post by EK - Shadow of Death on Oct 23, 2005 10:05:47 GMT -5
The lady approaches Martin and cranes her head closer to his ear. She doesn't seem to be radiating any body heat, and her perfume smells powerfully of lilies. Her whispers come out in cold breaths, like icicles against Martin's earlobes
We know who you are. You were not here. This did not happen. Have I made myself clear?
She leans a shoulder back, exposing the restaurant's front door to Martin.
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Stik
Peasant
Posts: 39
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Post by Stik on Oct 23, 2005 20:34:32 GMT -5
With a flourish, Martin “appears” one of his 2-inch crystal balls, and then dances it across his fingertips.
“Crystal, gracious lady,” he says, softly and deliberately. Then he “vanishes” the ball and follows with a quiet rush of words, “Inasmuch as is possible, considering that I was not here, this did not happen, and therefore we cannot possibly be having this conversation in the first place. I’d bid you farewell, were not I not here, and thank you.”
He then collects his things and strolls out, quietly crooning in time with his steps, the poem timed to carry him out the door on the last line: “The other day, upon the stair, I saw a man who was not there. He was not there again today, I really wish he’d go away.” And…exit.
On the street, casually strolling off at about ninety miles per hour, he puts some distance between himself and the restaurant, lest he be spotted by the Blackguards.
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Post by EK - Shadow of Death on Oct 25, 2005 16:11:03 GMT -5
Martin left the restaurant and quickly began to walk through the wide pavilion halls of the Gymnasium. From the relative peace and quiet, it seems as if the battle that he'd been running from was long over. Martin had little trouble in finding the brightly gilded entrance hall, but stopped suddenly at the tall archway leading into it, seeing a very familiar squad of Blackguard lounging by the Gymnasium entrance. A beautiful tiefling woman wearing a silk dress was arguing with their leader about them being bad for business, but it seemed very much like a one-sided conversation.
The entrance hall was a large room, easily 1000 feet squared. The ceiling was highly vaulted, tiled with large, alternating patches of black and scarlet velvet, making it look as if it rose into infinity. A large number of divans and cushions were arranged in groups around low tables on the granite floor. An low, even light filled the room, coming from a series of large candleholders around the perimeter of the room.
Despite the size of the room, there were only a few other similarly clad women in the entrance hall, all obviously Gymnasium employees, and no sign of anyone with any obvious power or ability to use as leverage. The other women seemed extremely worried about their companion, and it almost appeared as if the Blackguard leader was becoming somewhat annoyed at her bickering.
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Stik
Peasant
Posts: 39
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Post by Stik on Oct 26, 2005 20:02:16 GMT -5
Martin immediately moves to the nearest large object which provides some degree of concealment from the men at the door, doffs his hat, and beckons to the nearest employee. “Good lady, with your permission, I shall ask you a number of very short questions, all of which need only very short answers. You need not favor me with the usual good manners which I am sure the employees of this fine establishment are accustomed to providing their customers, for this is an urgent matter, and a woman’s life, that woman’s life there, may very well be at stake.
“Now is the part when you say: ‘Are you joking,” and I say: ‘Do I look like I’m joking?’ which is ironic, because I am dressed as a clown, but now that we’ve got that part over and done with, my questions:”
Martin then reels off these several questions rapidly, launching into the next one as soon as each one is answered.
“The attractive, chilly, elven lady in the restaurant, she who smells of lilies: what is her name, and what is her position here? “These Blackguards, do they come here and make trouble often, or is this a special occurrence? “There are two large armed men in the restaurant. Are they employees of this establishment or are they the personal bodyguards of the lady? “Are there armed men employed here who might be called upon to intervene before, or immediately after, this situation gets ugly? “And finally: what do you do with an elephant with three balls?”
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Post by EK - Shadow of Death on Oct 26, 2005 22:24:20 GMT -5
Martin flops noiselessly onto a nearby purple divan, stylishly donning his hat in mid-air and landing in a reclined position. A nearby girl with bright purple-hair notices him and hurries over. The girl is probably in her mid-teens and clad in a flowing, yellow silk dress that alluringly accentes her figure. The pitter-patter of her bare feet is barely audible over the heated voices of the woman at the door and the Blackguard sergeant.
Who are you! You mustn't be here! whispers the purple-haired woman, glancing occasionally to the scene at the door.
As Martin begins to speak, she listens, almost in a state of shock at his carefree attitude while the argument at the door remains just a few badly chosen words away from a bloodbath. However, Martin's casual joking seems to catch her off-guard and she turns fully towards him and kneels down to his level to answer him.
“The attractive, chilly, elven lady in the restaurant, she who smells of lilies: what is her name, and what is her position here?
You really mustn't be here - it could get dangerous! The chilly woman in the restaurant? Oh, that just must be Miss Vivek. She's Lady Shandrala's second in command - she can be really scary.
“These Blackguards, do they come here and make trouble often, or is this a special occurrence?"
Oh, they pop in every once in a while. Their sergeant likes our brothel. They're mean and terrible tippers, but they don't dare do anything because Miss Vivek's got 'em hard by the nethers she says with a giggle
“There are two large armed men in the restaurant. Are they employees of this establishment or are they the personal bodyguards of the lady?
They're Spectrum soldiers. Haven't you heard? Lord Paracs hired them to defend the entire city. Lady Shandrala decided to get a few squads of her own just for the Gymnasium
“Are there armed men employed here who might be called upon to intervene before, or immediately after, this situation gets ugly?
Those Spectrum should do something... I wonder where they are? she says glancing around, and obviously worried that something stupid might happen.
“And finally: what do you do with an elephant with three balls?”
She doesn't seem thrilled at this question, her patience seemingly run out. She shrugs her bare shoulders, unconcerned, and looks into the hallway behind her for someone... anyone, who can diffuse the situation.
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Stik
Peasant
Posts: 39
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Post by Stik on Oct 30, 2005 18:09:26 GMT -5
"Miss Violet," Martin calls, quietly, "There are two Spectrum soldiers attending Miss Vivek in the restaurant. Go right now and fetch them. Do it quickly, before your coworker gets herself killed. I will do what I can here stall for time. "Oh, and about the elephant: you walk him and pitch to the rhino."
"Tough room," Martin mutters to himself as he gathers his gear. He checks his rapier to make sure it slides smoothly out of its scabbard, checks that his silk bouquet is in place and ready, and fixes his hat. Then he braces himself and boldly stands up and heads straight for an exit (any one which does not take him nearer to the soldiers will do).
He has no intention of intervening in the situation at the door. If these soldiers make a nuisance of themselves on a regular basis, then the staff should know how to handle matters, and there is no need for him to get involved. In fact, he'd probably just complicate things.
Since there does not appear to be any way to sneak out, he strides slowly and casually, with no attempt at stealth. It is his hope that the situation at the door has them sufficiently distracted that he might make it. If not, he'll deal with the situation as it develops.
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Post by EK - Shadow of Death on Nov 2, 2005 20:03:42 GMT -5
The girl nods to Martin and single-mindedly dashes down the hall.
Martin looks around the room for another exit some distance away fromt the soldiers, but can't find one. For such a large room, only 3 wide doors lead to the outside, all of which are being carefully watched. The rest of the doorways lead into long halls leading deeper into the Gymnasium.
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Stik
Peasant
Posts: 39
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Post by Stik on Nov 6, 2005 17:14:49 GMT -5
Martin settles in for what could potentially be a long wait. He has no wish to find out whether he can defeat an entire squad of Blackguards on his own, and even if he could, fighting with the duly appointed authorities is clearly a career-limiting move. They know he’s here, and they are waiting for him, and presumably any conversation they have with him is bound to be less than cordial, so just walking out is not an option; nor is walking deeper into the Gymnasium, as he has been directed by the owner’s assistant to remove himself from the premises.
By the same token, regardless of how cozy it is on this divan, just sitting here is not an option either. And there is the employee to consider. It would not be fair for an innocent to be killed on his account. He needs some confusion, some disorder and chaos to give him an advantage.
What to do, what to do? He ponders the situation while absentmindedly vanishing and appearing various objects from his pouch. Where is Miss Violet? She should have arrived by now.
If Miss Violet does not appear immediately, he will have to take action. He starts by summoning the next available employee.
“I am here in the employ of Master Lucius Verrick. I can say with great certainty that Master Verrick would be delighted to see these Guardsmen rewarded for their diligence and enthusiasm with a round of drinks. Please serve them immediately, by which I mean: before that beast loses his temper. You may present me with the bill afterwards.
“Follow the drinks with a meal for each man. Do not wait for them to order; civil servants such as these are too humble to state a preference, nor would they presume upon another’s generosity enough to order what they truly prefer. Just bring several plates of today’s specials, enough that each man may choose his preferred meal.
“And I saw chicken soup and pea soup on the bill of fare. Please have a waiter bring me a bowl of chicken soup and a small loaf, for I have not yet supped. No, wait. Hold the chicken, make it pea.”
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Post by EK - Shadow of Death on Nov 8, 2005 8:23:37 GMT -5
The nearest employee, another beautiful teenage girl with pale red skin, turns to Martin as he makes his order. Her faces contorts itself into an expression of disgust as he refers to the Blackguard as humble civil servants. The expression continues, and she begins to nervously twirl her long black hair as Martin continues with the order. When he finishes, she gives a short curtsy and replies to him with a slightly lowered head.
Pardon, sir, but this is just the lobby. If you would like food, you must go to one of our restaurants. I'm sure that one of Master Verrick's servants can make the request for him. she shoots a quick glance back at the woman at the door Besides, this looks very bad.
Martin does notice that the situation has become quite heated. The Blackguard sergeant is no longer leaning casually against the archway, but has gotten to his feet and is staring down the woman, who hasn't budged. The sergeant's hand is gripping his dagger handle quite tightly.
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Stik
Peasant
Posts: 39
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Post by Stik on Nov 13, 2005 15:07:43 GMT -5
Martin continues his terse, low volume conversation with the black-haired servant: "Please, and quickly, answer me this: Are you fond of the lady presently arguing with the Blackguard? In the sense that you would prefer not to see the Blackguard harm her?
"You are? Good. Perhaps, then, you might be willing to participate in saving her life. That would be preferable to obstructing my efforts to do so, ne?
"I am fully aware that this is not a restaurant, but our best hope of getting her out of harm's way lies in giving those Guardsmen something else to think about. That is where you, and a tray of beers, and several meals to follow, come in, capisch? Please see to it. Post-haste."
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