• The Infractions Forum is available for public view. Please note that if you have been suspended you will need to open a private/incognito browser window to view it.

IC [Blades in the Dark] Orc's Tygers

The Tim

God-Machinist
Validated User
847IE—8th Day of Suran—The Hour of Honor

The sun's remains have finished their second flaring of the day, ushering in night. Like the nights of the previous week, the streets are full of sailors and travellers blowing through what cash they have—and being rowdy enough to keep the Blue Coats busy hauling them away into the holding pens for those they say just need a bit of a reminder to stay orderly. Most get let out of the pens a day or too later with not too many bruises.

It is one of those penned up the day before that has the attention of Orc's Tygers, and the attention of those they know. Even in the papers, towards the back after numerous articles on yet another round of discussions about restricting alcohol, there is a story of an ancient holy book lost in the city. It is told in the papers as a farce, one more thing for respectable citizens to tut at cultists about. But to those more savvy to the actual workings of the world, the situation is far more serious and complex than the few cramped paragraphs after the Blue Coat blotter.

The Mask Bearers of the Thousand Faces, a cult known to Orc's Tygers, confirmed among the network of faithful in the old gods that a Tycherosi vagrant had on her that distant land's book of the dead—a heretical and distressingly practical guide to the afterlife. They want it, to properly scour for what might be used against the true gods of the world, and then to take on one of their pilgrimages as an act of faith. And they'll pay for it. Of course they have no clue where the damn book is now.

It isn't just them that want the book, although Tesslyn hasn't explicitly asked for it, she dropped by just before twilight for a social visit and mentioned that it is a shame a book of such fine workmanship is loose in the rough streets and possibly depreciating in value. Especially when she knows just the collector who would like to have it locked up in a private collection somewhere. She also has no clue where the damn book is now.

Spoiler: Show

Anybody who answers can explain how the crew knows that the Path of Echoes currently has the book and is currently hosting a sort of meditation ceremony / symposium around it. Even if you don't pursue the Tycherosi Book of the Dead, someone answer this bit.


And it isn't just the book with attention. The vagrant herself, still locked up in Silkshore's cooldown tank, has a bounty on her head. The Grinders are offering coin for her—with no particular timer on it, but with the obvious fact that waiting for her to be let out is going to be a mad scrabble as opposed to the potentially madder task of exfiltrating her from cooldown. It is an obvious request out there, not unlike ones that they put out before when they need a member out of the tank before the time is up.

Less openly, there are a few information brokers very eager to talk to her before the Blue Coats decide to do a debrief before tossing her back on the streets. Who exactly they're working for isn't clear yet, but they're paying nicely and haven't put out such blunt feelers. And one of those feelers came to Orc's Tygers.

Spoiler: Show

Anyone can answer why it is that Orc's Tygers would be a good choice for springing someone earlier from the cooldown tank? Or the reverse, why is it startling bad? Again even if you don't pursue springing the Tycherosi vagrant, someone answer this bit.


OOC:
I'll post this bit and expand it in the OOC thread. There are two main choices here—which score to pursue and who you want to do it on behalf of. After that all you need to decide is the type of operation and answer a key detail question, then we do an engagement roll and start rolling. No need to plan ahead, you just flashback as needed. This would include flashing back potentially to discussions with the various potential hiring individuals to get key information and so on.
 

The Tim

God-Machinist
Validated User
The Silk Shore lockup is on the districts south edge side, almost in Barrowcleft really. The street is grimy and quiet except for clock bells. The heavy scent of ozone from the electric discharge of the relatively near lightning barrier dominates the street, pressing out the perfumes common to the rest of the district. Besides the oppressive atmosphere of the place, foot traffic is deterred by it being a shallow waterway instead of a proper street. A narrow pedestrian walkway is kept above the water by clockwork—allowing it to always be above the water or plunged below it should the Bluecoats prefer to require people to wade or use gondolas. It is all part of the cooldown experience.

From the courthouse—now closed—and its attached local jail, the view is of the back of cheap timber buildings. No windows look at the fine tile work of the courthouse from the buildings across the way so that those leaving can slink back to their lives. And so that Bluecoats can go to work without anyone observing them. As can those pretending to be Bluecoats.

OOC:
OK the Engagement roll tells us about the initial position for the Score—how well all the planning that's off screen paid off at first. If things look bad, well you can flashback to backup plans and so forth.

You get 1D for sheer luck.
I don't think this plan exploits the weak spots of the holding area, nor does it hit it at its strength, so the first factor is a wash.
Friends and contacts were talked about in a coherent way in this area, so I think the aggregate effect is +1D as they're definitely relevant.
Although the Bluecoats are higher tier, the local lockup isn't, nor are there other factors working against you here. I don't think there's anything skewing things positively either.

2D, unless someone thinks I'm missing something. If 2D sounds fine, say so in the OOC thread and I'll toss it and set the position in an edit.

ROLLED: Mixed, Risky position to start.
 
Last edited:

The Tim

God-Machinist
Validated User
The jail has few visitors—especially after the court is closed and you can't process someone in the tank out normally. Devils, you can't even bribe them out properly because there's no paper to push around and hide the whole thing well. Instead, there's just a shift clerk sitting at the entrance to the jail proper.

The shift clerk tonight seems like she should be working in the courthouse side of the building. Properly as a proper barrister or the like. She's dressed well enough for it, in the style of Akorosi nobles that do some sort of 'work'. All this makes her stick in the mind—Vey Prichard, always overdressed for her work at the jail. Anyone who has been in the cooldown sees her eventually and anyone in the cooldown enough hears her winning argument after argument with Bluecoats, lawyers, and other officials.

Sitting at her desk before the big wooden doors leading to the halls of the jail, Vey looks the group over. "I hope this isn't an unscheduled prisoner transfer," she says, clearly buying the uniforms but not in the mood for what it might mean. She's also starting to look over the faces of those there, and she's sharp enough that she may recognize those that have been in the tank before.

So…who is in there in costume? And how are they handling Vey?
 
Mr Bottles pulls his coat close and takes a long draw of cheap liquor from the flask in his left hand. He stands a couple doors down from the jail and does his best to avoid notice while he surveys the street looking for anything Locke wasn't expecting. A Bluecoat patrol arriving back too early maybe? Also looking for anyone who seems to be doing the exact same thing he is doing.

The gin washes down his throat and stings the area of his cheek he has been biting these past two days. The pain is his manta to Orc. One day the non-believers will know truth and the city will bleed with rebellion.
 

William Wilja Wiklund

Cyborg Communist
Validated User
It's been a while since Lock was here, last, but just in case he does his best not to look the way he did then. The uniform, of course, gets him most of the way there, but other than that he's done his best to adopt a soldier's straight-backed posture, and just for good measure he juts out his chin and tries to speak differently as well. He knows Vey's face quite well from his times in the slammer, but surely no one can remember every face that comes through here daily?
"I'm afraid it is, ma'am." Lock produces the forged documents from within his blue jacket. "I was told to fetch the Tycherosi woman who was sent here earlier. Don't know much more than that." He hands them to Vey.

He may not be a master forger, but hell if he doesn't think it's a pretty well done fake. Lock, Shine, and another acolyte of Orc spent quite a while hunched over a table with paper and ink, mulling over the phrasing and style of handwriting. "Too hasty?" "Too detailed?" "What do we want them to read beyond the text?" When they had composed something workable, they sealed the neatly folded paper with wax, and stamped it with a signet of the city of Duskvol, just slightly askew so as to signal that the author was in a hurry.
 

The Tim

God-Machinist
Validated User
Vey clucks her tongue. "You poor bastards," she says looking over the papers, "They don't tell you a Spirit Warden is already calling her in and that a special escort sent a runner ahead. They still send you over." She tucks the papers away among others she has. "You want to wait to talk to them and get them to sign off on everything? I doubt they'll care if I vouch for the fact that you came for her but got turned down."

It seems plausible enough. But there doesn't seem to be a messenger about, nor did you pass one. At least she didn't seem to see through the forgery. Still, it doesn't seem like just walking out with the vagrant will be that simple.

OOC:
This is a lost opportunity—no just waltzing out with her in the current context. Other methods to salvage the score are still on the table of course. It is also the case that you've got a countdown going. Four segments, one filled. It is the countdown until whomever Vey is expecting to hand the prisoner over to arrives to collect.



Outside, Mr Bottles easily spots a thug who turns the other way when he realizes that there's already someone with a lookout in place trying to spring the bounty. That's what happens when you put out crude feelers. It is a bit harder for him to spot the disruption in the water at the other end of the street—someone or something swimming through the ink black canal toward the jail. What does Mr Bottles do?
 

Nick the Nevermet

Concept Monger
Validated User
Miller sighs. "Ah, the joys of departmental communication."

He turns to Lock. "So, sir, shall we talk to the runner to make sure we're all on the same page?"
 
*low growl*

Mr Bottles says to himself, "Looks like my hands might get wet after all." He keeps his eye on the thug but puts himself between the the canal and the jail waiting to see what rats come swimming out. Concentrating on the cults mystical connection he sends out a message:

Looks like we got company. I can slow them down or we can wait and take the girl from them after they get her from the bluecoats.

Spoiler: Show
I take 1 stress to send out the message.
 

Nick the Nevermet

Concept Monger
Validated User
Miller smiles politely at Pritchard, trying to look comfortable in the wool uniform.

He also ties to note possible entrances and exits, since this may get complicated quickly.
 

The Tim

God-Machinist
Validated User
The easiest way out is the way they came in. There is the heavier door that leads into the lockup proper, which would only have difficult to find ways out once beyond but it might have a few places someone not in a cell could squeeze through or at least hole up for a bit. There's also the locked connecting door to the courthouse. There is a large window that's not meant to be open by the courthouse side, opposite the entrance. It is a stained glass window, never getting enough illumination to fulfill its pre-cataclysm purpose but salvaged and saved as part of the courthouse.

It is also clear that if the messenger that first brought word is still about, he must be past one of those sets of doors, or milling about in the neighbourhood somewhere.
 
Top Bottom