Rotting Realms - Future Foundation

Turning Yesterday's No-Man's Land, into Tomorrow's Foundation

Training Talents
1x L0 - Firearms Proficiency
1x L1 - Firearms Mastery
1x L2 - Soldier Profession

Corp Talents
1x L0 - Past Good Works - +5 social armor vs social attacks on the corporation
1x L0 - Future Goals of Peace - Proficient at Social Defense
2x L1 - Amiable Relations - +1d6 for social checks related to speaking amiably
1x L2 - Charity - A profession talent that provides the corp with all related talents for charity base and fundraising

1x L0 - Competent Command - Proficient in Intel Gathering and distribution
1x L1 - Information Networks - +2d6 for searching diligently for information on matters involving missions (targets/site intel/transportation routes)

Future Foundation

Come with us to save the world one small step at a time. Be a part of the future foundation and help save countless lives.


Character Name - Character Description

Valaire Curran - The Gunslinger Witch - Callsign: Tin-Tooth

Petra Kalinich - The Combat Medic - Callsign: Sawbones

Kassidy Merrengue - The Order of War - Callsign: Princess

Tomo Thunderhawk - The Soldier - Callsign: Big-Can Hero

Rayvyn Bloodrunner - Callsign:Human

Jaguar Giantstone - (Goldar Voice) Half fire giant. Working for the future foundation to offer support in the field. Callsight: Metalfist. From Effiranti Mountain.

House Goblin - The House Goblin - Callsign: House Goblin

Inactive Characters


Haero (vanCliff), Ghol, and Grasp: The founders of the Future Foundation and mighty warriors in their own right. Their busts of silver sit proudly in the reception area of the Future foundation. They are all now deceased: Captured and beheaded publicly by the Flotissima Empire. Haero was good natured and true to the shiledly teachings of Mephim (specifically the Orthodox Lorthinian Church), Ghol was a Necromancer of the Green Tower who specialized in healing and ressurection, Grasp was a freed slave of Thoradim who earned his reputation in Krame as a mercenary for hire (and lover of soups).

Ghol: Necromancer of the Green Tower specializing in Healing and Ressurection. Fine White hair. Was in charge of hiring, had a HUGE preference for women which in many ways caused a PR issue.

Reese Ghon - A bugbear, fought fiercly alongside Haero, Ghol, and Grasp, having lost a leg in combat, now does much of the administration work to pay for his children, and family. Keeps and shows off MANY photos. His children are nammed (in order of age) Ful (M), Grebek (M), Ladda (F), Laega (F), Fak'Emup (F), Skor (F), Reese Jr. (F).

Flava : The Dark Fish - An elf from the Darkwood. Hired by Ghol before their death. She is the social leason for the Future Foundation and handles the meetings between Herezok and other potential Donors. (Personality: Concise and businesslike and a bit snarky but friendly. Medium sharp voice. Athletic and very toned.)

Jacob Matthias : Warlock bodyguard to the ambasador of Lorthinius. Met Valaire Curran at the Battle of the Orchestral Bands.

Patches: Albino Armadillo mascot

Arcs [GM]

We are the Sky: The Flotissima Empire

Disaster at Basal Geas

Vinnie's Tomb

You are a Pirate (Lazytown)

It's My Party and You'll Die if I want to. - 0 days until the party.

Death and a Glass of Wine - The PC's must learn more about the Flotissima / Menser joint “Project Redwine”.

Ghol Digging - The PC's recovered the soul of Ghol.

Attikan on Titan

World News

- One of the few prominent master transmuters capable of performing permanent body modifications was assassinated a few weeks before Fitty sens could attend her appointment. This has created a heated reaction from the Sans family heiress siting: “Menser has gone TOO far. I'm calling my boyfriend and will be entering the fray… HEADS. WILL. ROLL. ( A presidential speech using royal we's: Talking about act as a humanitarian tragedy, etc etc.. )” Fitty is now waging a social war vs. Menser.

— ← creative_writing


Bryant Baxter, 2017/01/28 14:43

Denizens of the Flotissima Empire!

The Dogs of Krame have been CRUSHED and their agents destroyed, their agency has fled back to the dark shadows of their corrupt towers. Our mighty Baloofwaffe routed and captured them at the battle of Piratetown.

You watch the public executions and my heart soared as I am sure your heart soared when their heads left their bodies. As we were all aware, this was a message to the corrupt powers that we, The Mighty Flotissima empire, and our beloved leader: Generalissimo Flotissima, are beyond your meddling and Besmirchments.

With the Annexation of Piratetown and with the aid of our beloved allies in Ghazengras and Dur'Eskop we prepare for the real fight. We March to liberate the soft and rotten state of Saladam. WE shall sever their chains and free them from their black-lit masters to the north.

Together we are unstoppable. We are the sky and the stars. WE ARE FLOTISSIMA.


Thank you
Minister of Public Affairs

Grant, 2017/02/04 08:50

Calm Before The Storm

Valaire let out a heavy sigh as she walked from the conference room. With the meeting over she no longer needed to deal with the princess or the wacky medic, now she could go and do things she actually gave a crap about. She quickly found her way to the company cafeteria fridge, reached deep into the back and pulled out the special wine bottle hidden there. For going a glass mainly to keep from having to clean it after (that and there was only enough left for one drink anyway), she pulled the stopper and breathed deep. She savoured the heavy metallic scent a light underscore of peach (her personal touch) that wafted from the bottle. Valaire sighed and corked the bottle again but not enough that she couldn’t open it again with her fingers. Snagging a chair as she walked she made her way down to the armoury.

As she entered the armoury she slid the chair over near the work table and took a second to survey her surroundings. The guns, knives, and other assorted weapons items designed for war, fighting and death. Here she felt her most calm and at ease, surrounded by the possibility of death. She walked over to the table and chair placing her bottle on the floor. She then pulled her twin pistols from her belt and placed them on the table.

“Don’t you worry babies mama’s going to take good care of you, strip you down, and clean you up. We’re going to be having some fun soon you and me. So I need you both in top notch condition” Valaire said running her hands over the pistols lovingly. ”But. First mama’s going to relax.” She said with a smile as she flopped into the chair and through her feet up on the table. She then extended her claws and teeth, a small metal clang ringing out as her metal teeth clanged together giving her a serrated grin. Reaching down beside her she grabbed the bottle off the floor, pulling the cork out with her teeth before spitting it out onto the table Tilting her head back she took a long swing from the bottle enjoying the strong metallic taste of the blood inside with a soft peach after taste. “Ahhhhhhhh that’s the stuff.” She sighed before placing the bottle on the floor and pulling a metal file from her pocket. She then started to work on her claws and teeth to ensure the maximum sharpness.

“So much fun”

Schutte, 2017/02/04 21:08

The Dragonchips Of War: Setting the Pieces

War. War was the one constant factor since the beginning. Every living thing in one form or another engaged in War, of varying scale. From plants to gods, war was fought on a daily basis to achieve what one needed, what one desired in life. Plants grew taller to gain higher ground, superiour sunlight, starving out the ones beneath them. Vines would grow, stealing the hard-earned victory though, choking out the tall trees with its own guerilla tactics. Seeds were hidden in hardened shells, concealed in sweet fruits so that their predators couldn't crack them as they ate the ticking time-bombs, carrying the children off to new lands to settle outside of an unfavourable battleground. Plants, unintelligent beings had evolved naturally to engage in their own war. Intelligent creatures such as man, dwarf and elf, they had evolved war to a higher plane.

As with all things that grow and change, the complexity of war was now so fine, so intricate, that it had risen to that of an art. And as with most forms of art, the planning stage was the first.

The Information War had begun before Kassidy had stepped onto the stage. The Flotissima had a solid propaganda campaign and while such things were famed more for the social side of warfare, it had the hidden duplicity of manipulating information alongside it. When words were being yelled over-top all others, hearing what you needed was truly difficult.

And so, when Tin-Tooth left the room, Kassidy had continued to pour over the files, searching the intel not only on the Floaters, but on Pirate Town itself. It was a cluster-fuck to be sure, but such things were part of war, and War was her domain of choice. She allowed herself a little smile as she worked over the papers and arcanonet details, setting the dragonchip table in her mind. This would be an interesting game for sure.

Grant, 2017/02/11 17:30

Every Good Plan Needs a Van

“The Princess wants me to get a van, not just any van an untraceable van. No paper trail was what she said”. Valaire sighed “Were the hell am I going to get a damn van, the only place I can think of for a untraceable van is a junk yard. But if there is one there it’s probably there for a good reason. Not to mention I know nothing on how they run, I make weapons not cars!” Valaire thought to herself, while sitting in a lounge chair in the rec room. She had spent the last hour trying to think of a place to get a van, but the best she could think of seemed way out of her league. “Well I guess I have to make a call then, damn princess is going to owe me for this”. Valaire said getting up from her seat and walking over to the phone on the wall. She quickly dialled the number and waited for an answer she knew she didn’t want, she didn’t have to wait long. “Hello?” “Hey it’s me” “Valaire! Oh my god it’s been to long much to long actually your about 3 weeks late for our monthly meet up. You’re lucky I haven’t come and dragged you out of that hole you call an armoury you spend so much time in.” Valaire cringed as the tone went from happy to quite upset. “Well you know real busy with things here, besides you know I would tell you if I was going any were.” “Uh-huh”. Came the not so believing reply, “so what is it you want from me then Valaire? Since I know you aren’t calling out of the goodness of that hole you call a heart”. “Well I kind of need some help, you wouldn’t happen to know anyone that could get me a vehicle on the down low would you?” “Hmmmm… maaaaybe, maaaaybe not if you want info like that you know my price and were to find me.” With that the line went dead. Valaire hung up the phone, leaning against the wall as she hung her head in defeat. “Today was not going to be fun.” With that thought in her head she quickly went to see the medic to obtain her bartering chip.

A while later

As she entered the little coffee shop in upper Krame, Valaire took notice of everything she could. How many people were there, were they were seated, things around her she could use to defend herself should she need to. As she did this she notice a small glint out of her left eye a mere moment before the cleaver impacted the door frame beside her head. Valaire flinched away from it and stared wide eyed at where it had magically appeared from. “Damn, my aim must be getting sloppy”, said the woman who suddenly appeared behind the counter. Some of the patrons glanced casually toward were Valaire stood, but quickly went back to their coffee knowing well enough not to interfere. Valaire quickly regained her composure and pulled the cleaver from the frame. “You know mum I already got what you wanted”. “Ah but it’s always better fresh from the tap” mum replied with a grin that left shivers running down Valaire spine. Valaire knew if the woman behind that bar wanted her dead the cleaver would have landed in her skull and not the door frame. One does not get the rank of Mother within the Cold Iron Witches by being all talk. Quickly as to not incur any more of her wrath Valaire made her way across the shop placing the cleaver and the vial of her own blood on the table. “AH there it is” Mom said grabbing the vial and inspecting it like one would a priceless wine. “This is yours right? I will know if it isn’t”. She said eyeing Valaire. “Of course.” Valaire replied suppressing the memories from the one and only time she tried to trick her, it did not end well. “Good, here go to this address and ask for Tanya she will help you” she said happily handing over a piece of paper. Valaire nodded her thanks and quickly made for the exit. “Oh and Valaire?” she glance back over her shoulder as she was half way out the door, “Don’t be late to our next meeting ok” She said with a tone that promised much pain if the words were not heeded. Valaire nodded before bolting out the door. There wasn’t much that she was scared of but that woman was one of the top. A short distance away she stopped to catch her breath before heading to the address on the paper.

Lower Krame

Valaire walked through the double doors of the car dealer, and walked up to the secretary’s desk. A young woman sat in the chair calmly checking something on the computer seemingly oblivious to Valaire’s approach. A Valaire neared however the woman asked “hello welcome to Top Auto how may I help you?” “Um I’m looking for Tanya.” The woman pause looked up and seemed to apprise Valaire before pressing a button on her desk. “Tanya to front desk, you got a visitor” she said a small echo could be heard in the back of the building probably to the dealerships garage. “She’ll be out in a moment.” the woman replied before going back to her work. A short while later a young, blond haired woman, wearing a dirt and grease stained tank top, appeared at a door at the back of the show floor and waved Valaire over. “Come with me.” Before she turned and walked down a hallway and into an office near the back. Valaire did as asked and once inside shut the door. “Tanya?” she asked “Valaire, nice to meet you mother has already told me about you, says you need a vehicle on the cheap and quiet eh? I can help you with that.” Tanya said holding out her hand after wiping it off on her pants. Valaire shook it and sat down. “Ya I can help, but if you want it you’re going to have to help me get it first, you see my previous muscle got in trouble with the law. Nothing major started a fist fight while drunk off his ass, so I’m going to need a little work from you to help me out, and seeing as were sisters of the iron and all you wouldn’t mind would ya?” Tanya said throwing her feet up on the desk and lighting a smoke. “I suppose not sis but I can’t have a paper trail on this thing or the cops looking for it.” “Sis? I guess that works and of course not the vehicles we’re going to rescue from a horrible demise,” common.”

Outside Krame

“Were here.” Tanya said as the car they were in came to a stop Valaire looked around but couldn’t see anything but trees “Uhhhhh there’s nothing here.” She said mildly confused. Tanya only smiled and said “common grab the bags out the back.” Valaire did as asked grabbing both duffle bags out of the trunk and slung them onto her shoulders and set off after Tayna who had started off into the tree line.The car and its driver leaving shortly after. Each bag weighed a huge amount and soon the straps were digging into her shoulders as they walked through the woods. “You’re probably wondering why I brought you to the middle of no were and am making you haul half ton bags through the woods. Well I’ll give you the short version, see the thing is when car manufacturers build cars they don’t do it to meet demand. No, they build enough of them to meet what they think demand will be. This way of thinking tends to lead to them over producing vehicles and as such they rarely sell all the cars they build. So why don’t they lower the price to generate more demand. I hear you asking, well the thing is car companies are weird. See instead of lowering the price, they would rather pull the older cars after they start building the next new top of the line ones and sit them in these massive lots to wither and rust. The thing is though these cars are only a year old so there still real good so long as they don’t sit for too long, and that’s why we’re here.” Tanya said finishing her little speech as they cleared the woods into a wide open lot packed full of multiple different vehicles stuck bumper to bumper. “Why isn’t there a fence or something? With this many vehicles you would think they would want to protect them.” Valaire asked in awe at the shear amount of money’s worth of vehicles just sitting in front of her. “You would think so but that cost cash and it’s easier and cheaper to keep a secret than build a fence and pay guards to watch the place. Now come on lets go get you that van.” She said before taking off toward what appeared to be some nice looking vans.

Within a few hours Valaire and Tanya had the 2 vehicles they had chosen gased, oil changed, batteries charged, platted, and thanks to Tanya’s magic keys to start them with. “Won’t the company notice their cars are missing when they come to add more?” Valaire asked as she stepped into the white moving van she had chosen. “Na with so many here they won’t notice one or two going missing from time to time. Besides it would take too long and cost too much to have people come and check them all anyway. So long as a whole lot of the don’t up and disappear anyway” Tanya replied as she got into her own nice little 2 door coupe they had also got running.” Anyway follow me out and she’s all yours, and don’t be afraid to stop by the shop if you need some work done. Or just want to visit I always got time for family.” Tanya said before heading back toward the forest they entered through.

It took some time to crawl the cars through the wood but soon they were both back on the road and heading back to Krame.

Schutte, 2017/02/18 07:33

Shootie Shootie Rootie Tootie

Getting guns was easy.

Getting guns without a paper trail was hard.

Getting guns without a paper trail with 23 monies to your name was harder.

So, she'd need to make it easier, duh!

Gun runners were always a thing in major cities. The bigger the city, the more crime, and you can't really commit a crime without some kind of weapon. Yes, there was magic, but most mages were flagged by Arcanonet cameras and the local government marked their personal file with whatever magics were documented. It was the sort of thing that went under the radar, really, and prelates of Velgas had anyone privy to that information sign Non-Disclosure Agreements, but big secrets such as that tend to slip free eventually.

Especially in Bars.

Especially in Rotterdam's Gut Punch, her favourite bar.

If course, it was always said like a rumour, and always when the drinks have been flowing, but in the end, someone hears it, and someone spills it. Information was a commodity, after all, tit for tat, thanks for trade, well ain't that neat, sweet. Admittedly, Kassidy herself had traded information on occasion, getting a little T4T action of her own. Most of it was about the Black Fish, really, popular thing that one, all pretty and fancy with her dresses and her concerts and such. Princess wasn't really keen on it all, but gossip is gossip, and you sell what people want. This time what she wanted was guns.

Someone else's guns.

It took a few drinks, (on the company tab, of course), but in exchange for the Fish's last medical checkup and measurements, she'd gotten wind of a sting that the Kramean police had planned for an organization called The Mudmen. She'd heard of them before, a group who named themselves after the second most terrifying creature in all metaphysical existence, next to the ol' Dee Ess himself. They weren't that big in Krame specifically, but it was said that if you wanted anything moved through wetlands of any sort (and Krame's marshes were no exception), these were the guys to talk to.

She wasn't much a fan of pissing them off, really - more trouble than it was worth, usually - but she'd let it get around that Vinny's group were the ones involved, after the whole Pirate Town debacle was done, and the two gangs could go at eachother. … That was IF things went even halfway well.

The Sting

It wasn't her first time pulling a stakeout. Hopefully, it wouldn't be her last. The plan barely sat right with her, given her preferences for combat, and Aldris' own codes, but she'd made it work, hashed it out good. The Mudmen would make a trade with the local street crew from the outer slums, called themselves the Undertow. Probably because they pitched the bodies in the bog, all Pete to the Peat, bro! Again, not really her problem, not her battle, not her war. No, she knew how this would roll. Gangsters on edge, fingers itchy, triggers ready, a bunch of Krame's Finest ready to pounce. When the floot-lights hit, she'd set things off and while the bullets flew, she'd move in, get the cargo, and get out. Well, she'd squeeze in a little fighting in the midst of it all, of course (she's a soldier, not a thief, dammit). After that, she'd hand the haul over to her drinking buddy, she'd make off with a crate of her own, and he'd get to play big-damned-hero around the office, none the wiser.

It'd look good on paper, had she been stupid enough to write it down (which she wasn't! She wasn't that damned Tin Tooth, after all!).

So first, came the waiting. Gawd she wished she could smoke while watching the scene, but it was scary how good them Prelates were at tracking suspects; a cigarette butt, a stray wad of gum, and bam, they were on to ya. So she'd sit, in her poncho, in the crate in the back and just wait.

… Waiting sucked.

Messy Business

So, the floodlights had come on.

The “Finest” ID-ed themselves, called for the guns to go down.

And when it was the right kind of powderkeg, she popper their balloon. Well hers. Bubblegum. Seriously, waiting sucked.

Bang it went, and brakita-bang went the rest of them. She put on her plate mask and hopped out of the crate as the firefight erupted. Gangers were shooting gangers, were shooting cops, were shooting crates, it was a veritable warzone out there.

And she LOVED it!

She'd fired a few rounds as she charged up the middle, ducking and weaving around crates, boxes and bodies (still breathing and otherwise). She might not be the same merchant of death as Tin Tooth, but damned did she know how to party! The smell of burning blister was all around her, the tang of hot lead soaring through the air, and it was just.. This was her kind of concert!

As the music continued its staccato beat, she followed the melody to the heart of the bass beat, kicking the dead driver out of the seat after she put a fresh hole in his eardrum. The throaty roar of the blister engines made her a target, and she laughed as she hammered down the gas and rammed the truck through the warehouse door she'd sabotaged. Funny how easy a door gives way when the mounting bolts were removed and placed with bits of scrap wood. Boom went the grill as the door came down, plakitaplakitaplak went the bullets off the shell of the truck's cab. Splat went the blood from the wound in her shoulder, bits of hair joining its stain on the windshield as someone got close. But the rising beat of the four blister engines brought the cacophony to a new rise!

Once she turned the bend, the firefight had focused on itself again, a cruiser sent and an APB released. That was fine, she didn't need to go far. The wound was an issue, but whatever, Sawbones needs to earn her paycheque, yeah? A left, a right, two straights, next left and up to the waters edge she'd be, Rascal, her Kobald drinking buddy there with his cruiser. A heavy dolly and a crate later, she was away, while Rascal put a brick on the pedal. Smucked his car, and into the drink, the blood and hair washed away and the van stuck in the muck for his credit to be earned.

She'd almost forgotten about her shoulder would, she'd had so much fun!

A tarp over the case, the trolly on its back, and she was just someone in a stained poncho, moving freight in the district.

RGP's basement was good enough for now; Jackal (the owner) owed her a favour after that whole fiasco last Ladies Night (seriously, did noone else bring a piece to these things? Shit gets rowdy!). She added another shot to her body in the form of some hearty rotgut and off to work she'd go.

Sawbones had work to do, after all.

Schutte, 2017/02/18 07:38

But... Why?

Course, heading to a Stuff-n Mart was pretty standard fare. Shopping with an arm in a sling, however, not as fun. She couldn't rightly wrap her head around the why of this part of his plan, but whatever, she needed his connections. It'd been awhile since she'd had to do this too, not since she was nineteen, and Jimmy Wilder had to be taught a thing or two about how to treat a lady.

Lady. Huh, been awhile since she was anything but a Princess.


She'd set the boxes on the checkout counter, and look back at the judging gaze with a general dun-giv-a-fuk that she was famed for. $27.40 for four boxes. Seriously? Back went one box, aaand in its place, a little baggy of Gobby Rox. $22.75, perfect. The gobby rox wouldn't help her shoulder, but they went pop pop in your mouth. It was the slogan after all, “When an invention needs to blow up in your face, get yourself some Gobby Rox!”

Grant, 2017/02/18 10:23

The old razzle dazzle

Valaire was sound asleep in her bed, dreaming about the old days when blood ran in the streets and she would dance a dance with death. Days when she was happy simply being blood drinker before she left the order, when she was young and naïve. Suddenly and quite unexpectedly a bright light filled her vision dragging her from her sleep to the real world. She didn’t move or say anything, she simply held up her hand. Fingers out stretched, she then folded in her thumb silently informing whoever was at her door of their dwindling time before she got up to deal with them herself. “Flava sent me said you owed her a commercial, and to get you to her by any means necessary” came Reese’s voice in reply. Valaire cracked open a heavy eyelid to look at the alarm clock beside her bed, which read 9:13 AM. Much too early for her considering she usually got up around noon. She groaned and grabbed her pillow, placing it over her head to block most of the light.

“I’ll take suppose that means you won’t be coming peacefully then?” Reese asked. Valaire replied with a muffled “fuck off” before quickly falling back asleep. As such she had no warning when 2 hands grabbed her by her midriff and forcefully removed her from her bed. A small cry much girlyer than she would ever admit to anyone escaped her as she was thrown over the bugbears shoulder and carried out of her room butt first.

“What the hell Reese!” Valaire said, as she struggled and flayed trying to escape his grasp, now very much awake and quite angry. “I already told you Flava sent me to get you. If you had come peacefully I wouldn’t be carrying you.” Reese replied in a tone that made it sound like he was talking to a child. Valaire stopped fighting resigning herself to her fate, knowing full well that even if she did get away she would soon be recaptured. “You could have at least let me put some pants on, I’m not really a fan of being paraded through my work place in my pjs” Valaire said crossing her arms as best she could. “And you would have tried to through me out of your room as soon as I put you down. Don’t think I don’t know it. Besides wardrobe has what they want you to wear anyway so you would just be taking it off again” came Reeses fatherly reply. Valaire huffed he wasn’t wrong.

After fitting and makeup

Valaire stalked into the front foyer were the beginning of the commercial was to take place, even angrier now after being plucked, cleaned, lathered in makeup and dressed. She felt like a bird getting ready to be cooked alive. People were milling about cleaning and setting up equipment. Valaire scanned the room and spotted Flava talking to a man in a chair. “Why the hell do I have to wear this ridicules get up.” She said as she walked over to Flava and the man, gesturing to the dress she was wearing. A short, black, sleeveless, strapless, skin-tight dress, with exposed sides held together with lace strings and matching heels, that left nothing to the imagination. “Ah there she is. Welcome Valaire so nice that you could join us. This is the director Mr.Stinesburg. He will be leading you through the commercial and telling you what to do. Now here is your script, it’s not too difficult. Just simple walks through commercial were you explain the different aspects of the future foundation and the good work we do, shouldn’t take too long. As for the cloths skin sells especially on someone who looks good and that’s what you’re doing, selling the future foundation to the masses to help improve our revenue. Now I will leave you two to get acquainted.” She said handing Valaire the script before walking off. “Pleased to meet you I’m Eliot Stinesburg” Eliot said holding out his hand. “Valaire Curran” she said shaking his hand “how long do you think this will take?”

Many hours later

“And finally we come to my part of the future foundation the Peacekeeping division, were we have some of the best fighting to protect you, your friends and your family from those who would look to harm and destroy that which means most to you. With some of the best hardware available at our backs we can handle almost any situation from terrorist threats to hostage rescue. When the bad guys kick up a fuse we are there to stop them. But all this would not be possible without the donations of everyday people just like you, who share our vision of a peaceful and prosperous future. Feel free to go to the future foundations website where you can find more info on the good work we do, or to donate any amount helps us make the world a better place. So come with us to save the world one step at a time. Be a part of the future foundation today and help save countless lives.” Valaire said doing her best to upsell the foundation. This was the last part of the commercial and she was exhausted, hungry and most of all craving a drink from her stash. She had spent hours stumbling her way through the multiple retakes and set changes, all with the knowledge that this was going to be televised to millions of people. She hated every second of it, especially the dress which left her feeling uncomfortably exposed and unprotected.

“And cut. Alright Valaire you’re done, we’ll get this to edit and in about a week you’ll be able to see it on TV. Good work.” Eliot said. Valaire nodded and made her way to the rec room, taking off the high heels as she went. She quickly grabbed a bottle of her drink out of the fridge and some left over pasta she had had the night before. She then made her way over to the nearest confortable chair before digging in to her food. Her hunger and thirst satisfied it wasn’t long before she fell asleep.

Sean Patterson, 2017/02/25 21:25


Dammit all to Trollhel and back.

Tormenting Princess is just too much fun. I honestly enjoy the way she wriggles when I jam my finger into her GSW. And I know better. It is memorable. You remember someone jabbing a finger, up to the second knuckle, into an already treated wound to “probe for shrapnel”. Plus the time and effort to patch it up again. I will have to do better.

I cannot have too much scrutiny. We are heading into unknown territory. Oh, the delicious possibilities! With opportunity comes danger. With danger comes comes caution. With caution comes freedom. Freedom to play.

Yes, focus on the possibilities.

It will all be worth it.

Wacky. Feh. I know better. I will do better.

At least I avoided having my face plastered all over the Arcanonet.

Yes, it will all be worth it.

Time to play.

Sean Patterson, 2017/02/26 17:51

Tomo seems an innocent sort. Not many of those in the circles in which I travel. No casualties? On a raid? Unfeasable. He will be lucky to survive, himself. I do appreciate his efforts on my behalf with those grenades. I shall have to keep an eye on him. His kind are too few.

Rayvyn. What to do about about Rayvyn. She is more powerful than she knows. She bears watching, perhaps tuteledge.

Vallaire… Ah, sweet Vallaire. Such chaos kept under such rigid control. A kindred spirit, nearly. If she could just learn that the beast can be controlled, directed, as well as denied, and almost as easy. This could even be fun. It was a mistake to offer her my sidearm, however.

Time to play.

Schutte, 2017/03/25 01:09

Status Report

I'll keep the formality rather low since I know you'll be adjusting this, Dark Fish, but here's the bare bones of what went down.

We entered OMITTED following obtaining the vehicle I will designate as The Van, loading the cargo seized from the illegal operations I came witness to upon exiting Krame. Said cargo will herefore referred to as GobbyPops. At the border, we were detained momentarily by the borderguard before a full blown riot occurred by pro-Flotissima forces. We intervened, five rounds in total were fired, a guard who was severely beaten was rescued and - while badly injured, a protestor was stabilized for treatment on-site.

We rendezvoused with OMITTED (who shall henceforth be called Vinny) and his entourage. The exact details of the following engagement I leave for your creativity, but the jist is, we entered a compound that was under siege by pro-Flotissima civilians. During this time, we liberated the local governing body of the nation's gold storage so as to prevent it from falling into hostile hands. During this, we were assaulted by the undead forces of OMITTED who shall herefore be named FrillyShit. The battle with FrillyShit was difficult, but injuries were kept to a relative minimal, with only my own being considered serious (a shattered left arm that is now treated and mending well).

Attached is the portion we were able to obtain, for redistribution to those in need of our assistance. Additionally, we have recovered a rare, Albino Armadillo as part of our humanitarian efforts. We have named him Poly (short for Roly-Poly). Please take care of him/her (none of us are aware of the precise gender.

We have now arrived in PirateTown and are being sheltered by one of its factions following this good-will exercise. I will provide more information when the next opportunity to communique is available.

Princess out.

Grant, 2017/03/25 18:37

The Road Piratown

Well that went well, Despite the unexpected vampire raid at the end of it. Valaire sighed as she drove the van down the road, now heavily laden with extra people and loot. It should have been enough that they had won, kind of, that they only lost one person to the enemies 6. That despite everything this BS, half assed plan princess had come up with had actually worked somehow and they were now escaping with the spoils. It should have been enough but wasn't not for her anyway, she was still itching for a fight to spill blood and bring death. It felt like her blood was screaming at her to do it to fight something, anything. She tightend her grip on the wheel knuckles almost white as she fought back against the feeling, focusing on the road trying to block it out. the beast within would stop rattling its cage eventually stop wispering in her ear to kill, she only had to give it some time. She knew why she felt this way, why she still craved a fight despite it already being over. She had been nearly useless in the fight, her guns failling her against the umberhulk. They were to week to really do anything other than poke at it and the underlings had been delt with by princess and sawbones before she could really do anything.

She relaxed her hands glancing at them, the first word coming to her mind was weak. The voice inside her whispering “to weak”, she shook her head there was nothing to be done about it now. She looked back at the road stretching before her leading them forward. She would get a chance to fight more later she was sure of that but now was the time to get them to Piratown, to bring the fight to the enemy.

Sean Patterson, 2017/03/25 18:56

I can see Tintooth berating herself behind the wheel. No doubt Vallaire feels useless, as indeed she was. The threat posed by the Undead is not something that can be “punched away” with brute strength. It takes a different strength, a higher power, as it were. While it is good to know that I can still turn the undead when needed, it draws far more attention than I would prefer. Grand Master of Paladia Josnovon was in no way unclear about what will happen should I draw too much divine notice. Mephim smiles on his devout, but not me.

I can see Princess scribling away on her papers, no doubt informing the home office of our antics. From this, she infers that she is in charge. It is useful to me to let her continue to think so. Her arm is healing nicely. Again, such things draw more attention than I am comfortable with, however, I am certain someone would be upset should I have allowed her to die. Who, I am not entirely certain, but surely someone. At least the treatment was appropriately painful, and I have my blood tally.

I can see these things through slitted eyes while laying my head in Vinnie's lap, pretending to sleep in the back of the van. His flesh is hard, and strangley cool, even through the remainder of his garb. I care not to know what happened in that pit. But he intrigues me. And I have told him so. The game begins to ripen.

Time for the next stage.

Sean Patterson, 2017/03/29 04:07

Petra's Preparations (or What We Need Next)

If every good plan needs a van, it seems the bad ones need a van, as well. This van, however, no longer qualifies as non-descript. It was amusing to me to allow and assist Tomo to deface the van, but now the time has come for stealth.

We, I will also need a network of informants. And operating capital. Kassidy reported the true amount of our bounty to the home office, leaving us with less than I would have preferred.

I have an idea that will get what I need. If I set myself up as a doctor treating these “resistance groups” (see also: organised crime), I can establish a source of income, intelligence, and favours traded. There are things we will need that I cannot rely on the others to obtain. It is better this way.

Capitalising on the needs of others, with the word of Mephim (ironic, that), I will reach out to the downtrodden, the gullible. They hear. They see. A few carefully crafted sermons, combined with a few carefully crafted healings will win over the earnest. Some carefully placed change, with the promise of more to come, will buy the desperate. They will tell me things I need to know.

The first thing I need to know is how soon my network can find an ambulance for me to use. People see them, make way for them, but who pays attention to one after it passes out of sight? They have room for all of us, if a little cramped and the interior can be reconfigured as needed.

The next thing I need is ongoing income, but healing those with little access to proper care will address this.

Likely our greatest need is information. The downtrodden go largely unnoticed, regardless of any regime changes. Poor is poor, sick is sick. No mind paid to any of them. They tell me things. Some useful like the location of an armaments depot, some trivial like that a nephew of Effseffer has been killed in some grizzly manner, and some non-sensical like “Some days are for good I hate bad days! The Baby Goeth says so!“ I have never heard of a Baby Goeth. The real Goeth may have been young once, but some things do not bear much thought.

Grant, 2017/04/01 18:21

Going to Church

Valaire drove through pirate town taking care to not draw attention to herself as she made her way to the Our lady of St.Jesus church. She had managed to find some white spray paint to cover all the pirate markings those idiots had painted on her van, it was the best she could manage but some of the darker colors still showed through a bit. As for all the holes those were another thing entirely she would need some metal to cover them all and appropriate tools which she didn't have on her. Maybe she could turn it into a flat bed truck would be useful to have if they were able to mount heavy weaponry to. She also wanted to improve her pistols, again this would require tools she didn't have. But if the gun smugglers were half as good as she hoped then they would likely have everything she would need on hand or at least be able to show her were to get it. As she pulled into the church's parking lot she parked her van and pulled on a black hooded overcoat she borrowed from the black eels, concealing much of herself as she could and headed inside.

As she made he way into the building she noticed a lack of people inside, it made sense to not flaunt criminal activity were everyone can see it. She made her way into the main hall. Looking around she spotted a woman at the back of the room reading a book with her feet up on a table. Valaire walked up to her but before she could speak the woman said, “what ever you want we don't have” without even looking up from her book. “I want to speak to whoever is in charge”. Valaire said in reply.“Shes busy” she said still not looking up from her book. “I can wait” Valaire said a bit annoyed. Finally the woman lowered her book with a sigh and looked up at her, “your not going to leave are you”. Valaire shook her head. Another escaped her as she got up, “wait here” she said walking toward a door at the back of the hall. Valaire did as she was asked and waited, a while later the woman returned and waved for her to follow.

She walked down a short hall to a meeting room in the back, were a older woman sat on a comfortable looking couch. Across from her was a identical couch and a table in between with a tea set arranged on it, steam rising from the pot. “Hello I am the mother superior at this church and I hear you would like to talk to me, but before that…” she waved to the woman who had led Valiare to the room, who said “arms up”and began patting her down. It didn't take long before her pistols were found, removed from her and brought to the superior who gave them a quick look over before placing them on her side of the table. “Not many people would be willing to give up there arms in a place like this” she said looking up at Valaire. “I'm always armed weather with those or not”. “Indeed, tea?”. Valaire accepted the cup and took a seat across from mother superior, pulling back her hood so it wasn't in the way. “so what do you wish to talk about?”. “I would like access to your arms facilities”. Valaire said getting strait to the point. “oh I see but why would we let you do that Ms. Curran?” Valaire was a bit surprised that they already knew who she was, but did her best not to show it.“Because with the Flotissima taking over your town I'm sure some of your people have been…. relocated, and as such are no longer able to come work for you. As such I am willing to offer you my skills as an arms smith in exchange. As well as pay for any components I would need.” Valaire said sipping her tea. “Hmmmmm. Well we will have to test your capabilities”. She said pulling a very old pistol from her robes. “hear can you tell me whats wrong with this?”, handing the weapon to Valaire. Valaire took it into her hands, studying the gun. soon enough she had it completely broken down, running a careful eye over every part. Many were very worn and could probably use replacing but everything seemed fine. So she rebuilt it,testing everything as she went but still found no she placed it back on the table “there is nothing wrong it's just well worn.” The superior smiled taking her gun back. “Good, you passed, you would be surprised how many people will find a fault in something were non is if they are told there is one. But in our line of work a fault means we loose money, as such unnecessary repairs to things that don't need them can add up quick.” She turned to the woman by the door, “ get Ms.Curran set up down stairs see and show her to the problem cases, see if she can make heads or tails of them.” Valaire smiled and finished her tea.

Josh, 2017/04/01 22:12


Ok, guys, this is what I was doing for the past few days:

well let me tell you about my week,

I went down to the church to speak,

Mephiem heard my voice and heard my cry,

Now listen to me and I'll tell you why,

He told me, son, keep doing what you do best,

don't listen to all the rest,

you do good because good is good,

and show them the way I know you could,

He told me to go out and spread the word,

So then I went and made my voice heard,

Some people didn't like what I had to say,

so they tried to stop me in a mean way,

So I shot one in the leg,

Then threw another threw a keg,

The bouncers then began to shout,

and then promptly kicked me out,

I then paid for the damaged dealt,

Went back to the church and knelt,

Down in front of the altar,

Told up my god, that I wouldn't falter.

Then I went and got black out drunk at the bar.

PRAISE Mephiem.

Lyne, 2017/04/01 22:13


Rayvyn was going to the marketplace to find some night vision goggles when something caught her eye. There was a sign that read “Help Wanted: New Professor Needed for Assassination Training”. So she went to check it out.

She got offered the job right away due to her credentials with being able to almost vanish in plain sight. She really enjoyed working with Tom which was the one who owned the place. She grew attached to some of the students, and they showed promise in the art of being stealthy. They even offered her free food and a place to sleep if she ever needed.

Later she found that they were in line to attack the Future Foundation, but since she liked them so much she just quit without saying anything. She did not want to have to fight these people that she grew quite fond of. After much debate on whether to tell her teammates of Future Foundation, she decided she would tell the higher up ranking people only and let them deal with the issue, but not her companions of which she was travelling with.

Bryant Baxter, 2017/04/16 07:46

The Guiding Principles of the Flotissima

1 - Embrace the growth, move forward, leave no time for decay.

2 - Devour the corrupt and renew them as your greater whole.

3 - Work personally to produce the brighter future.

4 - Exhibit your greatness, bring others into your fold.

5 - The mind leads the body. The body is a servant of the mind.

6 - Vision triumphs over impediment.

7 - There is no limit, only result or no result.

8 - The Mind, The Mouth, The Muscle: this is the order of things.

9 - Attain the High ground.

10 - Overwhelming spectacular displays of anything you do.

Sean Patterson, 2017/05/21 03:01

Guiding Principles of the Hunter

- the hunter stays hidden
- the hunter is honest with his prey
- the hunter despises falsehood
- the hunter serves no gods
- the hunter can never stop hunting
- the hunter keeps a memento of his prey
- the hunter does not hunt where he sleeps
- the hunter does not leave a witness
- the hunter is prepared for adversity
- the hunter who breaks the code is unworthy and shall be subject to the hunt

Sean Patterson, 2017/05/31 01:26

By all the gods I do not believe in, I HATE THAT COW!! She knew I want Vinnie! And she made a play for him. The minor discomfort my treatment caused her was nothing compared to what she has done to me. I can only imagine what she must have done to him to get those noises out of him. What perversions Vallaire must have taught her. I am unable to blame Tintooth, though.

She is clearly succumbing to her addictions. Raving on and on, for more than 3 hours about imaginary nations called Etaly or, what was it? Jirmeny? I suppose it is possible they were nations in Thousand Kingdoms at some point in the past, but she went on and on about unity and nationalism, but not a single mention of Zanibu. As though anyone else could unify this mess. Anyone other than Zanibu is surely doomed to failure.

Tomo is gone, captive on High Command or, more likely, dead. How easy to simply throw him over the side and call it “accidental”. Dodge the ground and call it flying, friend. It is the course of action I would choose, in their place.

There is now some smelly goblin in the House of Dank Memes. It says Vinnie sent it, so I shall suffer its assault on my nose. It has a name, but I care not what it calls itself. I shall call it “George”. It is, after all, a gift from my dearest Vinnie.

At least Rayvyn has not lost her precious sanity. Mayhap I shall have to spend more time with her, now. Her counsels are wise. “Why don't we just kill them all?” Wise beyond her years, training, or the best scientific testing would indictate.

That thrice-damned COW! As though she really took my remarks regarding plague warfare seriously. I was jesting! Mostly. I certainly would not infect a region we planned to seize. I still want my summer home. I. Want. My. VINNIE! I will take my Vinnie. I will take whatever I please. It is good that my aura still scans clean.

Time to play.

Bryant Baxter, 2017/05/31 03:21

Damme Dinner

Damme shot up in her chair.

“Melady is coming … to my Party!?!”. Her face beamed, showcasing her missing canine. Damme had, for years, looked up to Melady D'Erle. Even among the most radical, rebellious, devas Melady was considdered a black sheep: being the first in many years to eschew the council of devas for the life of a wandering adventurer.

Oxnard gave a warm smile. The sight of his daughter so excited couldn't help but elicit this rare reaction.

“Of course she would come. She IS technically your cousin to be… Noah being my nephew in law and so on.” By this time Damme was fidgetting back and forth, hand animated extravagantly as she spoke of the possibilities of their meeting, the preparations that must be made to impress her, etc etc. Oxnard put his chin and cheek into his palm and serenely watched the show until she finally snapped out of her trance with a question.

“Do you think she will show me the art of the sword?” Her hands were flat on the long dining table as she leaned far towards her father.

“Perhaps.” He said wistfully. “It would depend on if she wanted to stay as a guest and if she felt you had the aptitude.” Oxnard then lifted his head. “Though if it were up to me I would simply say no and suggest you finish your magical training, as it is more suited for your gender. Leave the bleeding and swords to the menfolk and the spiders.”

At this Damme made the most willfully neutral sarcasm face. “Two skills is better than one.”

Oxnard shot back without hesitation “ARE better than one. And no, they aren't. Being good at a bunch of things means you are exceptional at none of them. Never forget this.”

Damme made a dismissive “pfft”. What did dad know anyway?

Grant, 2017/06/24 19:11

working on the magics

(After the confrontation with the spore troll)

Valaire lay on her bed running the fight with the troll through her head. For intents and purpose the fight had gone well and Kassidy had maintained her 2 and 0 score of getting the shit kicked out of her by some rather large beasties. Valaire smiled at that thought. Her only problem with it was with her magic, that it failed her when she needed it didn't sit well with her. She sat up in her bed, summoning her claws, she poked her palm. Blood weld up in her palm as she willed her claws away again . Slowly she gathered a small ball of blood into her hand no bigger then a penny is round. Channeling her energy into it, it slowly grew in size till it was about he size of a base ball. The ball now thrummed, pulsing in time with her heart beat as it floated in the palm of her hand. She had learned this trick from the Cold Irons it helped in sculpting and working out kinks in her magics, as chaotic as it was, by giving her something to focus on. Valaire crossed her legs under her and lay her hands palm up on her knees, relaxing her breathing. The small ball floated up resting in the air infront of her between her hands, its surface swirling with the wild uncontroled magics that flowed in her veins. She closed her eyes visulising her problem child magics in her head, a chrystal shard blood red and strong as diamond and a suit of armour the pattern engraved on its surface matching the one on her claws. She took a closer look the 2 spells examining there flows. As expected the magics felt quite unstable as she examend them, the repective representations appeared to have crackss all across there surface that flowed and wavered like water. She focused on her magics attempting to calm the chaotic flows of the magic. Slowly the cracks seemed to soften and the turbulance calmed. She opened her eyes and watched the orb still pulsing in time with her heart but its surface seemed calmer than it had been. She brought her hands toward the ball shrinking it as she drained the energy from it, till it returned to its original size. Then popped it into her mouth, something always tasted different when it was her own blood she tasted. she lay back down again this time to get some rest before she had to deal with another day of crap they had waide into.

Bryant Baxter, 2017/06/25 13:10

Death and a glass of Wine

Meanwhile in Fortress Attikan very important cranius stare at a illusoscreen…

- THESE are the failures?!?

- Yes Generalissimo, and as you can see… they are quite difficult to dispose of. This corroborates what Menser was saying and given even their virility I assure you the successes of project Redwine will be much, much, more versatile.

- yes, but THESE ones… can they be controlled?

- Well… as of right now Generalissimo… no. Menser documentation leads us to suspect we can use a scent pheromone, like bees, to guide them en-mass with simple commands but we, as of yet have not discovered the exact sensory frequency. Personally Generallissimo, I think we should approach this using our own strengths and attempt to promote simple mental directives, parallel to conjurers and necromancers.

- Do you think Menser has this magitek alreaday?

- Yes, and i'm sure if we asked they would be glad to sell it to us… the cretins.

- Very well, Meister Sloom. Proceed. Find our own means of mass control and make finding any counters to Menser overrides a priority.

- Yes Generalissimo!

Schutte, 2017/07/08 01:41

Breaking Through the Filibuster

It had been on her mind since the troll had skipped her like a stone across the lake. Actually, a few seconds after that, when her divine gifts had faded. What had she done wrong? Where had she faltered? Why had Aldris discarded her so? These weren't the thoughts she was exceptionally used to having, truthfully. Kassidy was a far simpler sort than that.

A review may be in order.

Kassidy Merrengue was a conflicting ideal made flesh. On one side, she was simple-minded, straight forward, brash and impulsive. She loved diving in headlong, following the first barrage; her steps preceded the artillery and she reveled in the fight as the shells rained down around her. Her second half was more analytical, the tactician's mind, the aspect that sat back and watched how it would all unfold before that first step was taken, putting thought to her recklessness lest the 'maddened brother' take her to toll. It was in this opposition that her soul found a balance and to it, Aldris' blessings were garnered. She was a soldier that stormed the battlements, a leader of men who would not ask of them what she herself could not commit to. She was to be a hero of the battlefield, born from a renegade's mind.

…. So why in heaven's name did she sit back and think?! She was so caught up in planning and plotting and scheming to the enemy's game, forcing herself to think like a gods-be-damned squid in a stupid hat, that she kept countering her own moves a thousand times! Grah! It was all that damned Valaire's fault. Tin-Tooth! When did she actually start using that abomination's true name?! The heretical bastardization of war turned tail. She's done one thing right in her life, ONE THING and in trying to focus on that and fix the monster, contain that fool and her fury, she'd gone and gotten too far on the side of order. Damn you Velgas, damn your slippery slope! From order to legislation to law, she'd forgotten the path that have led so many astray…

Kassidy cried out in anguish, slamming the mug down, cracking the base and bending the handle. She was a few cups in for sure, but it wasn't helping her inner monologue at all. She'd thought the drink would clear her head, push away that fancy talk and snooty pretentiousness that'd been creeping in, but apparently she'd not drank enough yet. She'd toss another silver on the counter before Greta could comment, though she knew that unimpressed eyebrow when she felt it. “This city sucks now, all them fuggin rules, godsdamned squid ink all over the books. Fuggit, can't have any fun anymore…“ She'd get another mug of the wet stuff (because really, it couldn't be called 'good' by any stretch), eyeing the bartender through the hazy goggles of drunkenness. “Yanow what? Fuk that damned party, that pretentious gurl and her conci- conseeee.. sixteenth. Know what I got? A gun. This one gets fireworks, ponies, spore trolls, and a fukkin' city handed to her on a plate, know what fuk that, this ain't a city, it's a godsdamned concentration camp. Everyone smilin' and noddin' while rattin' eachother out to the law for a damned pat on the head. Fuggit all!”, aaand slam, another few coppers down for another cup and refill. She was getting a bit low; probably cause she left most her cash back at the house before she drank it all away. She'd gesture with her sloppy mug to the bar behind her. “Betcha two outta three here is lookin at me, rubbing them hands together thinkin 'I'ma go rat on her kuz them's words of a spy or sum shit', even using the stupid voice for the voiceover. “And ya know what, they might GET a coin or two, a pat on the head, and then written down as another untrustworthy sort; keep an eye on that one, gonna turn secrets in for munny they is, says the floaters and now they can't get a job, they can't get a job, kuz the bigguns above ya sayin' yer a snitch and towin' the line won't be good enough. Go ahead ya snitchy tows, rat if ya want, see what the boozey words of a pissed off bitch gets ya!”, flailing that sloppy mug around before slaming it and trying to take a drink. ”…eh, mug's empty…“

After a little more of the ol' gut-wrencher, she'd comment to Greta once more. “Anyways, fuk the law, I got this shit figgured out. Thanks fer listnin; yer great, Greta. Grettaaa… Great-ah! Hah, yeh, yeh that's good, haha, Greatah!”, laughing at the worlds most original joke the barkeep's ever heard (for sure), she put the last of her coins down and staggered out, keepin her half-full cup. Hell, she'd paid for ten more with that, might as well keep it.

It helped to talk things out while her mind swam through the booze. She knew that most of them there would mark her up as a malcontent mercenary, a drunken ass who had too many, but there'd be a few who'd follow her, who'd get a bit more, who genuinely thought they'd be doing the city a service. And so she'd lead the line, a stagger through the streets, a ramp to the undercity, around a bend here, cross a dock there, and after a loop or two, she'd pull out her blade and stick it in the knife of the shadow behind her. As the breath of life slipped from the sneaky fucker's face, she'd say barely above a whisper, “Fuck the Law; this is war…“, pushing the man into the drink, straightening up and walking home feeling so very much better.

Sean Patterson, 2017/08/04 02:49

Fuck You Two, I Still Have A Van

“So hey dere, uh, Flava. Didja hear, ah, hear what those two assholes did? Those shitheads, they, um, went and left without me! I know, right? They abandoned the mission, and, um, me too! It's okay; I'm okay. It doesn't bother me that much.”

No, no, it's okay. I have a van!, Well, it's actually more of an ambulance, really. It has a bed, and everything! Yeah, no, outta nowhere, I got this text message saying the safehouse was blown, and then a couple random messages from unknown numbers- like I'd answer those- and then Valaire calls me while I'm in the middle of something and starts barking orders!“

“Yeah, yeah, no, I'm really worried about both those guys. Yeah, I've been building up a network of informants, right? So they told me some, uh, some pretty weird stuff. There's this really nasty blood wine here, made with this scary blood magic. Yeah, the stuff in my previous report. Well, Valaire's got a taste for this stuff and somehow she convinced Kassidy to use the last of our mission funds to buy a case of this Jesus Juice. That's, that's gotta be against some kind of rule, right there.”

“I know, I know. I've been worried about her problem with the Wowie Sauce. It seems like it's getting worse. Poor Ol' Bosh. Yeah, they took him with them! On a mission! I know, right? A Civilian! On a mission! He billed us how much? Ah, geez. That poor guy. Listen, if he needs someone to talk to, y'know, to just listen, or whatever, I can get some names to him. Yeah, I'm sure he can get over it. With time. Maybe…”

“Kassidy, yeah, she's, um, questioning her faith, there, a little. She was at a bar the other night, yelling about gods she doesn't believe in. Sure, sure, yeah. If she loses the favour of her god, she'll be no more than a second-rate merc at an elite price. Right, right… Valaire and I were teasing her pretty hard, but I was just kidding. Maybe Valaire meant it a little more than I thought. You know how she gets when she doesn't get her way.”

“So those two shitheads took off, leaving this job half finished. I've got a line on the head of the new secret police, and, um, and Imma kill 'im. He's fuckin' dead. This is really important to me, okay? I'm not leaving this city in Flotissima hands. Wait, they don't really have hands. Tentacle sucker-thingees? I mean, I get it; that mind control dealie is really bad, right? I mean, it was pretty scary, finding Valaire in that box, all covered in goo. Who knows what she could do if they turned her?”

“It's fine, it's not a deal deal. I mean, if they didn't want to work with me, they didn't have to abandon me, but it's fine *sniff*. No, I'm good, it's okay. You're too sweet. I think I'll stay here and see if I can infiltrate one of the old gangs, maybe use them as the seed of a resistance movement. Those Black Eels, Vinnie's guys. Man, that Vinnie, he's something else, lemme tell ya. Even though we all thought finding him on the Arcanonet was pretty stupid, who thought it was actually going to be a good idea?”

“Yeay, yeah, sure, no. Of course we'll keep in touch. As soon as I ditch this phone, I'll send you my new number. Oh! Couple things: if you can find someone willing to work with those two, make sure it's someone with some people skills because, um, they're shitheads. Oh, and Flava? Give them a message from me: 'Alkar sends his regards and says he'll be seeing you both soon!' No, no, just a little in-joke. Yeah, okay, you too babe; I still have work to do here.”

Well then. That should create some problems for those two miscreants. Imagine the nerve! Ordering me to leave with my prey still breathing! As though I would leave my Vinnie. Fuck you two, I still have a van. Alone, again, at last.

  Time to hunt.
Bryant Baxter, 2017/08/12 14:09

The Leviscerator did NOT like Glenwald Glibwhistle. To him this man was a hurricane of annoyances and warning signs, the sort of warning signs that usually led people to the wizard box for interrogation, lore extraction, and re-education.

The first annoyance was his attitude. A sort of foppish one-upsmanship that made the uninformed assume he knew more than you wanted or had more leverage than you were comfortable giving. “Pity for him”, thought the Leviscerator, “Ive spent my entire career crushing people who actually knew too much”. He mulled over the decision of simply letting him talk himself to death.

The second annoyance was the audacity. “Here is this fop” pondered the flotissimas master of secret police, “standing before me, semi-forcing this meeting, interrupting my lunch, probably going to miss it again today and have to eat before bed. Ugh”. Its not like there weren't proper channels for this and this characters organization had contacts with the secret police particularly established to avoid nonsense like this. All skipping the channels told the Leviscerator was this person was the sort to try to skip rungs in the ladder, a person who put himself before the whole, the sort of person who belongs on the front line or in a pit somewhere… forever.

The third, and likely most annoying thing, was the illusions. Here was a nor-shanar standing in the corner of his office, pretending to be a man sitting in a chair in his office. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if he had not seen through the illusion instantly, forcing his hand in playing along. Now, the Leviscerator thought to himself, “I'm talking to a bloody sock puppet like a child at play… I think ill have his arms cut off and put puppets on them… then he can interrupt all their lunches as much as they like.”

It was almost to the point where the Leviscerator simply stopped listening, but then and now nuggets of actual intelligence would be vomited out. Also, it seemed to be good news: The Future Foundation was pulling out, some awol people, concrete connections between Krame against the Flotissima. If this prat wasn't such a rabble-rouser he might have recommended a promotion.

Glibwhistles report ended and the Leviserator stared, poker-faced at the “sock puppet”. Then, with a snap tone of authority with a dash of concern, the Leviscerator changed the subject: “How are you faring with your skirmishes with Dr.Killer? You do realize that violence in the streets is forbidden, even for somebody as important as you, correct?”

Though not worth missing lunch, seeing the socks facade stammer and apologize as well as seeing, from the corner of his jet black eye, the illusionist struggle in the corner was enough to put him in a better mood. He ignored Mr. Glibwhistles response, thanked him for his “essential intelligence”, and told him that he, The Leviscerator, was excited to see what the future had in store for Glenwald Glibwhistle.

Within moments of his leaving The Leviscerator took a bite of his lunch then put it away, beginning his work he called in his field commander and gave him orders to requisition some “Spectacles of Clarity” and have them sent to the new temp in the office of temporary records with the message “Take off his arms and turn them into sock puppets. Then, get out of my City - L”.

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creative_writing/rotting_realms_-_future_foundation.txt · Last modified: 2017/08/12 12:22 by kingtruffle
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