Undersigil Cartel
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*Reptiller
- Posts: 205
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
"That's assuming they agree." *Hildmor smirked* "I'll work out something incase they won't...to make the possible war effort somewhat easier."
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*Tomekk
- Posts: 855
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
*A rather pissed off blackguard arrives a bit late to the meeting, but her demeanor shows she wasn't exactly sitting around and not doing anything in the meantime.*
"Preposterous!" *Raven cried out with visible anger* "Peasants revolting, bah, it sickens me. I say we crush these good for nothing madmen and make sure they never try anything stupid like this, again."
((You once said we didn't do anything evil MrO. I believe turning their protest into a bloodbath is evil enough :P))
"Preposterous!" *Raven cried out with visible anger* "Peasants revolting, bah, it sickens me. I say we crush these good for nothing madmen and make sure they never try anything stupid like this, again."
((You once said we didn't do anything evil MrO. I believe turning their protest into a bloodbath is evil enough :P))
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*Darkrob
- Posts: 1097
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
“Yes… a bloodbath! Flesh and guts filling the streets, clogging the drains and ditches! Women and children wailing for lost fathers while the smoke of burning buildings fills the air. Think of the possibilities!”
Charles finished his statement, obviously oozing with sarcasm and contempt, and poured himself another drink from the liquor cabinet in HildmorÂ’s office. Taking a sip of his Cognac he continued on, albeit in a more serious tone.
“Such a display of foolhardy bloodshed would be detrimental to business and would undermine any credibility this Cartel has gained. While we must always maintain the threat of harm should our adversaries decide to move on us, we must do our best to avoid it. There is little profit to be made in mass chaos and destruction unless you’re suggesting we exist solely as bottom feeders, profiting exclusively on scrap and looted war spoils?
*sips his drink*
Hardly civilized or sustainable.
The Cultists have decided to speak and make demandsÂ… this means they have a price. With a little negotiationÂ… IÂ’m certain we can come to an agreement that is mutually acceptable and if we try hard, one thatÂ’s even more acceptable to us than them.
Charles finished his statement, obviously oozing with sarcasm and contempt, and poured himself another drink from the liquor cabinet in HildmorÂ’s office. Taking a sip of his Cognac he continued on, albeit in a more serious tone.
“Such a display of foolhardy bloodshed would be detrimental to business and would undermine any credibility this Cartel has gained. While we must always maintain the threat of harm should our adversaries decide to move on us, we must do our best to avoid it. There is little profit to be made in mass chaos and destruction unless you’re suggesting we exist solely as bottom feeders, profiting exclusively on scrap and looted war spoils?
*sips his drink*
Hardly civilized or sustainable.
The Cultists have decided to speak and make demandsÂ… this means they have a price. With a little negotiationÂ… IÂ’m certain we can come to an agreement that is mutually acceptable and if we try hard, one thatÂ’s even more acceptable to us than them.
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*Reptiller
- Posts: 205
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
*Hildmor sighs, glancing between the two for a moment*
"While we're going to try and negociate, I hope all of you understand that allowing them to undermine is hardly acceptable. There'll be blood. How much and how soon, is to be decided. If the negociations will be successfull for us, we'll have time to prepare to get rid of them. I'll...announce our anwser as soon as my informant gets certain clarifications."
*Hildmor then looks straight at Raven*
"However...there's no guarantee negociations won't go wrong, knowing who we're dealing with. Prepare the men."
"While we're going to try and negociate, I hope all of you understand that allowing them to undermine is hardly acceptable. There'll be blood. How much and how soon, is to be decided. If the negociations will be successfull for us, we'll have time to prepare to get rid of them. I'll...announce our anwser as soon as my informant gets certain clarifications."
*Hildmor then looks straight at Raven*
"However...there's no guarantee negociations won't go wrong, knowing who we're dealing with. Prepare the men."
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*Darkrob
- Posts: 1097
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Charles adjusts the ring on his left hand, ensuring a more comfortable position.
“I see where this is going to end up… and I see it ending poorly. While you might ensure we remain a part of this village, we will no doubt be seen as nothing more than vicious occupier’s hell bent on reigning through blood… no better than the Orcs.”
He closes his scroll case and gets his jacket from the hook on the door.
“While I care little if people die when it comes to making a profit, I prefer not to kill those where I do the most business. In essence… I see little reason to crap where I eat. You’ve already announced that people are going to die. Very well… I think I’ll wait out the storm on the surface. Do let me know when it’s finished”.
He dons his coat, grabs his case and nods to Hildmor . He then heads towards the door.
“I see where this is going to end up… and I see it ending poorly. While you might ensure we remain a part of this village, we will no doubt be seen as nothing more than vicious occupier’s hell bent on reigning through blood… no better than the Orcs.”
He closes his scroll case and gets his jacket from the hook on the door.
“While I care little if people die when it comes to making a profit, I prefer not to kill those where I do the most business. In essence… I see little reason to crap where I eat. You’ve already announced that people are going to die. Very well… I think I’ll wait out the storm on the surface. Do let me know when it’s finished”.
He dons his coat, grabs his case and nods to Hildmor . He then heads towards the door.
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*Reptiller
- Posts: 205
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
"Charles, as I said, we might or might not confront them soon. We definetly will though, at this point or another, may be months later. We have a chance to take the leader's position in this town and we'll not step down. Farewell though, I'll meet you after this is over." - Hildmor nods.
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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
A known face shows up in D'Kridis' old office again. He walks up straight to the desk of Yuri, the smell of his cigarettes spreading:
"'Sup Kiddo? Long time no see. Ye reckon ye got sum work fer a dumb basher like me? Y'see I'm plain broke n' bored so mebbe we kin help each other out."
"'Sup Kiddo? Long time no see. Ye reckon ye got sum work fer a dumb basher like me? Y'see I'm plain broke n' bored so mebbe we kin help each other out."
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*Reptiller
- Posts: 205
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
"Ah, Mr. Bernadotte...ehh, let me look around.." - He rummages quickly through various paperwork on the table..."Guess...Here it is. Yep." - the young man holds out a parchment..."Up for some spelljamming? Here's a tough debt to collect. A gnome going by the name of Kherki Splitbread used to be a spelljammer parts merchant and a genius technomancer in Tradegate. To expand his business, he had gone to sir d'Kridis for a debt of three hundred thousands...and after he failed, he decided to use his spelljammer to escape. According to Toril's spelljammer folk he has been on one of Glyth's moons in Realmspace. That moon is called Mingabwe, here are all the details." - The butler then finally passes Fargul the parchment, and here's what can be found on it:
Glyth
Glyth is a harsh, ringed planet that has been occupied by the dreaded illithid for about a century. Plant life is continually burned by the harsh atmosphere or by the mind flayers to prevent their humanoid cattle hiding from them. A remarkably pure edible gelatin 'water' can be found in the place of seas, though the planet still has ice caps as normal, nothing lives there. Most activity occurs underground. As well as the planet's rings, Glyth is orbited by three satellites. One, known as Haven is a hollowed out asteroid and treated as neutral ground for the different mind flayer factions. Another, Mingabwe is a trading port for non-illithids. While orbiting Mingabwe is Polluter, an unmapped asteroid. A group of over 300 mercenaries from the Code Helm reside here conducting raids against illithids in the system.
Mingabwe
Mingabwe is a small moon where all spacefaring races are welcome. It is the best choice for humanoid ships to land at if they don't want to risk the attention of the mind flayers. Edible plants grow here and are freely available if picked personally. The only permanent resident of Mingabwe is Justin "Do Good" Demonslayer, a paladin who is the only known illithid cattle who ever managed to escape the planet's surface. Others who have been living on the moon for a while are generally trusting and good-natured, often because there is nowhere to hide on Mingabwe should someone steal from them (in fact, only two thieves in the entire history of Mingabwe ever got away with their theft). Once thieves are caught and punished, most folks are ready to implicitly trust them again. More unsavoury and repeat offenders are never seen again though.
The Target
According to mercantile spacefarers who stopped by Mingabwe around a month ago, he started a similar jammer-related business there. It probably won't cover even half of his debt(without interest), hence what you'll have to do is to deliver us the man himself so he can work it off, along with the money you can find in his property, his spelljammer and other valuables.
Reward
30% of his initial debt without interest, as in 90,000 jink.
Yuriy smirks at Fargul.
"If you're up to the task, mr. Bernadotte, you'll be given a certain sum to cover the travelling expenses. "
((Aalright, here you go. Any DM willing to run this...or *coughTomekk* event runner can take this up. Otherwise I am going with forum RP.))
Glyth
Glyth is a harsh, ringed planet that has been occupied by the dreaded illithid for about a century. Plant life is continually burned by the harsh atmosphere or by the mind flayers to prevent their humanoid cattle hiding from them. A remarkably pure edible gelatin 'water' can be found in the place of seas, though the planet still has ice caps as normal, nothing lives there. Most activity occurs underground. As well as the planet's rings, Glyth is orbited by three satellites. One, known as Haven is a hollowed out asteroid and treated as neutral ground for the different mind flayer factions. Another, Mingabwe is a trading port for non-illithids. While orbiting Mingabwe is Polluter, an unmapped asteroid. A group of over 300 mercenaries from the Code Helm reside here conducting raids against illithids in the system.
Mingabwe
Mingabwe is a small moon where all spacefaring races are welcome. It is the best choice for humanoid ships to land at if they don't want to risk the attention of the mind flayers. Edible plants grow here and are freely available if picked personally. The only permanent resident of Mingabwe is Justin "Do Good" Demonslayer, a paladin who is the only known illithid cattle who ever managed to escape the planet's surface. Others who have been living on the moon for a while are generally trusting and good-natured, often because there is nowhere to hide on Mingabwe should someone steal from them (in fact, only two thieves in the entire history of Mingabwe ever got away with their theft). Once thieves are caught and punished, most folks are ready to implicitly trust them again. More unsavoury and repeat offenders are never seen again though.
The Target
According to mercantile spacefarers who stopped by Mingabwe around a month ago, he started a similar jammer-related business there. It probably won't cover even half of his debt(without interest), hence what you'll have to do is to deliver us the man himself so he can work it off, along with the money you can find in his property, his spelljammer and other valuables.
Reward
30% of his initial debt without interest, as in 90,000 jink.
Yuriy smirks at Fargul.
"If you're up to the task, mr. Bernadotte, you'll be given a certain sum to cover the travelling expenses. "
((Aalright, here you go. Any DM willing to run this...or *coughTomekk* event runner can take this up. Otherwise I am going with forum RP.))
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*B-Smith
- Posts: 23
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
((I'll just go via Forum Post now))
Fargul set foot on the harbor of Mingabwe. If it wasn't for the fact that he used to own one, he'd hate Spelljamming a lot. It was just blatently boring if you're simply going for transports. Lighting a smoke did little to relieve him of the travelling stress. Taking a drag helped a little but still not fully. The smoke in his lungs made him calm down and he drew a battle plan in his mind.
First things first: Get a layout of location, make possible escape routes, find exit, strike, leave. Approximate time till accomplishment of mission: 1-2 days.
With that in mind he took the next bar and exchanged some dirty jokes with a few local cutters. To his surprise it was extremely easy to get to know folks. They were smiling, open and always happy to see new folks. Must be the other inhabitants of this system. After he spent about 3 to 4 hours pleasantly talking he had gathered enough intel and went out under the excuse that: "He needed to get a Jammer". He slendered into the streets of the Jammer port. He found the dark starry sky somewhat unnerving. Been too long in Sigil again!
He stood shortly in front of the building: Splitbread's Jammer Tuning. Fancy name. Catchy sign. What a prick. After taking a few rounds around the building he could honestly say that the man was paranoid but broke enough to avoid any sort of bodyguards. For fock's sake, did that dough-faced four eyed kid think he was an amateur?! The one-eyed merc snorted and stepped inside. Scare the poor sod and drag him on one of his ships back to Tradegate. The building was quite large and was made mostly out of wood and some moonrock. It had two to three floors and a few large windows for enough light to enter... If there was any. From the inside the sound of metal hitting metal could be heard and a few sparks passed by the windows here and there. Calmly Farg opened the door and entered.
The next bit was quite surprising as a blunt object, probably a wrench or another tool hit the back of his head forcefully. Ye cocky berk! Workers count as Bodyguards!
Fargul went to the ground but had trained enough to pass out not just yet. He made no moves in the Hopes that the berk who'd been stupid enough to put himself in the Deadbook, was not a professional fighter. The hope turned out right: The man tried to check if he was dead. In this instand, Fargul grabbed his arm, turned around and sent his ironbolted boot right into the face of the man, who winced and flew backwards in a near perfect arch. Before the next few sods could get to the Big Green Mean Machine, he jumped up and whacked his metallic bracers into the side of the next attacker, a Half-Orc who looked dumbfound as he was stricken down to the Dust. The worker behind this sod was somewhat shaking as he still charged. Enough time for Fargul to grab the back of the Human's head and ripped it down, nose meeting spiked knee.
The grinning mercenary dusted himself off and snorted "Amateurs", before looking around for his actual target. He noticed just in time a shortened person running up a catwalk into the upper floors. Fargul opened the chase, smacking two workers out of his way with a Wrench he found on the way. As he entered a platform on the third floor, he was faced by a large figure clad in Black and Bloody armor, spikey like a rose that decided that poking folks is much more fun. Next to the Dark Knight stood the Gnome with a smile that was too wide for his face.
The Gnome opened the conversation: "Without a doubt your one of D'Kridis' hounds! Well sorry to tell ya, but I took precautions for one such case. The only thing that strikes me, is that he sent only one man!"
Fargul grinned arrogantly:"Shoul' tell ya 'nuff 'bout me. But let's get things finished, I ain' one tae talk."
With this Fargul opened the charge, hand on his hilt, whilst the Gnome hurried behind the Tower of Thorns. The Bodyguard raised a thorny shield and a spikey blade. Prolly a remnant of the Bloodwars. Fargul increased his dash and before the Mercenary could take a Horizontal swing, the One-eyed Greenie jumped to the ground, slid a few more meters and got the knight out of balance. He rolled just in time to the side, before the spikes of the armor hit the wooden floor. For now the Basher was stuck to the ground with his overly fancy armor. A ridiculous sight, Fargul thought whilst turning towards the Gnome.
"So, you gonna walk or am I gonna have to knock you out co--
His instincts were screaming as he ducked down just in time for watching the spikey blade crash through the wall before him. Fargul pointed the tip of his sword backwards, and in his crouching position blindly stabbed backwards. His Momentum didn't do any real damage but pushed the Bodyguard backwards just enough for some breathing space.
Fargul turned around, grabbed the Gnome under his arm and faced the Monster of thorns. The Blood Ironclad Man decided that he wanted to show off his Charge now. Fargul stepped aside (however got his arm cut by a longer thorn, quite deeply) and smacked his ankles, which made the armored cutter trip. Right. Through. The. Bloody. Wall!
With widened eye, he followed the Giant break through the wooden wall and lying on a foreroof. Fargul grinned towards the Gome, who already seemed quite pale. With his prey under his arm, he dashed towards the Giant who was just about to stand up again, when Fargul jumped up with both legs, kicking the Tower of Thorns into the Stomach, making him fall off the roof, towards the street. Fargul bent his knees during the short fall and placed his blade atop the less armored throat. With the Momentum of the Fall and his Momentum Blade in hand, he broke straight through Leather and Chainmail, stabbed the throat, used his bent knees to jump off and roll around the ground. The Green Mercenary stood up, checking his Target, who seemed to have passed out from the shock. A short sniff confirmed that the man must have been scared out of his mind.
Two days later, the Gnome Kherki Splitbread, bound and gagged, along with a large sack of coin made from the sale of Splitbread's spelljammer, the savings of the Target and a bag of holding filled with valuable items from the Workshop are neatly placed ontop of Yuri's desk.
Fargul grinned widely: "Reward, please."
Fargul set foot on the harbor of Mingabwe. If it wasn't for the fact that he used to own one, he'd hate Spelljamming a lot. It was just blatently boring if you're simply going for transports. Lighting a smoke did little to relieve him of the travelling stress. Taking a drag helped a little but still not fully. The smoke in his lungs made him calm down and he drew a battle plan in his mind.
First things first: Get a layout of location, make possible escape routes, find exit, strike, leave. Approximate time till accomplishment of mission: 1-2 days.
With that in mind he took the next bar and exchanged some dirty jokes with a few local cutters. To his surprise it was extremely easy to get to know folks. They were smiling, open and always happy to see new folks. Must be the other inhabitants of this system. After he spent about 3 to 4 hours pleasantly talking he had gathered enough intel and went out under the excuse that: "He needed to get a Jammer". He slendered into the streets of the Jammer port. He found the dark starry sky somewhat unnerving. Been too long in Sigil again!
He stood shortly in front of the building: Splitbread's Jammer Tuning. Fancy name. Catchy sign. What a prick. After taking a few rounds around the building he could honestly say that the man was paranoid but broke enough to avoid any sort of bodyguards. For fock's sake, did that dough-faced four eyed kid think he was an amateur?! The one-eyed merc snorted and stepped inside. Scare the poor sod and drag him on one of his ships back to Tradegate. The building was quite large and was made mostly out of wood and some moonrock. It had two to three floors and a few large windows for enough light to enter... If there was any. From the inside the sound of metal hitting metal could be heard and a few sparks passed by the windows here and there. Calmly Farg opened the door and entered.
The next bit was quite surprising as a blunt object, probably a wrench or another tool hit the back of his head forcefully. Ye cocky berk! Workers count as Bodyguards!
Fargul went to the ground but had trained enough to pass out not just yet. He made no moves in the Hopes that the berk who'd been stupid enough to put himself in the Deadbook, was not a professional fighter. The hope turned out right: The man tried to check if he was dead. In this instand, Fargul grabbed his arm, turned around and sent his ironbolted boot right into the face of the man, who winced and flew backwards in a near perfect arch. Before the next few sods could get to the Big Green Mean Machine, he jumped up and whacked his metallic bracers into the side of the next attacker, a Half-Orc who looked dumbfound as he was stricken down to the Dust. The worker behind this sod was somewhat shaking as he still charged. Enough time for Fargul to grab the back of the Human's head and ripped it down, nose meeting spiked knee.
The grinning mercenary dusted himself off and snorted "Amateurs", before looking around for his actual target. He noticed just in time a shortened person running up a catwalk into the upper floors. Fargul opened the chase, smacking two workers out of his way with a Wrench he found on the way. As he entered a platform on the third floor, he was faced by a large figure clad in Black and Bloody armor, spikey like a rose that decided that poking folks is much more fun. Next to the Dark Knight stood the Gnome with a smile that was too wide for his face.
The Gnome opened the conversation: "Without a doubt your one of D'Kridis' hounds! Well sorry to tell ya, but I took precautions for one such case. The only thing that strikes me, is that he sent only one man!"
Fargul grinned arrogantly:"Shoul' tell ya 'nuff 'bout me. But let's get things finished, I ain' one tae talk."
With this Fargul opened the charge, hand on his hilt, whilst the Gnome hurried behind the Tower of Thorns. The Bodyguard raised a thorny shield and a spikey blade. Prolly a remnant of the Bloodwars. Fargul increased his dash and before the Mercenary could take a Horizontal swing, the One-eyed Greenie jumped to the ground, slid a few more meters and got the knight out of balance. He rolled just in time to the side, before the spikes of the armor hit the wooden floor. For now the Basher was stuck to the ground with his overly fancy armor. A ridiculous sight, Fargul thought whilst turning towards the Gnome.
"So, you gonna walk or am I gonna have to knock you out co--
His instincts were screaming as he ducked down just in time for watching the spikey blade crash through the wall before him. Fargul pointed the tip of his sword backwards, and in his crouching position blindly stabbed backwards. His Momentum didn't do any real damage but pushed the Bodyguard backwards just enough for some breathing space.
Fargul turned around, grabbed the Gnome under his arm and faced the Monster of thorns. The Blood Ironclad Man decided that he wanted to show off his Charge now. Fargul stepped aside (however got his arm cut by a longer thorn, quite deeply) and smacked his ankles, which made the armored cutter trip. Right. Through. The. Bloody. Wall!
With widened eye, he followed the Giant break through the wooden wall and lying on a foreroof. Fargul grinned towards the Gome, who already seemed quite pale. With his prey under his arm, he dashed towards the Giant who was just about to stand up again, when Fargul jumped up with both legs, kicking the Tower of Thorns into the Stomach, making him fall off the roof, towards the street. Fargul bent his knees during the short fall and placed his blade atop the less armored throat. With the Momentum of the Fall and his Momentum Blade in hand, he broke straight through Leather and Chainmail, stabbed the throat, used his bent knees to jump off and roll around the ground. The Green Mercenary stood up, checking his Target, who seemed to have passed out from the shock. A short sniff confirmed that the man must have been scared out of his mind.
Two days later, the Gnome Kherki Splitbread, bound and gagged, along with a large sack of coin made from the sale of Splitbread's spelljammer, the savings of the Target and a bag of holding filled with valuable items from the Workshop are neatly placed ontop of Yuri's desk.
Fargul grinned widely: "Reward, please."
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*Darkrob
- Posts: 1097
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
*Charles finishes his drink and puts his jacket on*
For the time being I shall Remove myself from Cartel business and focus my attention on the Consortium. My attentions are being drawn into too many directions and my free time is currently minimal... not the way I intend to live my life... too many responsibilities. It is far too difficult to enjoy myself between the Consortium, the Cartel, my private business and my private enjoyments.
Until such a time as I am prepared to take on a larger role please do not include me in Cartel business or Cartel plans. To the Cartel I will be considered a "contractual associate" as where I began. My attention shall be in the city above and the communication lines of the Consortium. As always, I'll be happy to continue any topic of conversation in regards to the Consortium.
*with a quick nod to all those who are present, he utters a few small enchantments to prepare his walk to the surface and departs*
For the time being I shall Remove myself from Cartel business and focus my attention on the Consortium. My attentions are being drawn into too many directions and my free time is currently minimal... not the way I intend to live my life... too many responsibilities. It is far too difficult to enjoy myself between the Consortium, the Cartel, my private business and my private enjoyments.
Until such a time as I am prepared to take on a larger role please do not include me in Cartel business or Cartel plans. To the Cartel I will be considered a "contractual associate" as where I began. My attention shall be in the city above and the communication lines of the Consortium. As always, I'll be happy to continue any topic of conversation in regards to the Consortium.
*with a quick nod to all those who are present, he utters a few small enchantments to prepare his walk to the surface and departs*