Fantasy Republic of Desperadoes (Game lit / Colony building)

[AtlannianSpy]

--As for this so-called "Free Republic" your majesty need not concern themselves unduly with this small matter. Far from being a legitimate threat to the security of the colony, they are a mere rabble of malcontents and desperadoes with delusions of grandeur. The garrison I command at your pleasure is their superior in levels and good imperial steel will more than match whatever scraps and trinkets they have managed to dredge up from the Arkonan ruins they squat in. I anticipate writing to your Majesty again withing the year with confirmation of their demise--

-Surviving fragment of a letter from the Warden General Marrvis of the Arkonan Colonies to the Alcibard the Seventh, Emperor of Lysenna. Recovered from the wreck of the Lysennan fast courier ship HMLS Lady of Dawn....

---

A sudden stillness roused Karine from her uneasy sleep. The rocking of the ship had been a constant presence for the last four months, so much so that it had faded into the background of Karine's awareness, along with the damp, the salt in the air and the overwhelming odour of sweat and unwashed bodies kept in close proximity. Life as a "passenger" aboard an imperial prison ship was chiefly about coming to terms with a series of unpleasant, but unavoidable realities. Shitty food; shitty company; uncomfortable proximity to actual shit which the crew disposed of as infrequently as they could get away with and of course the constant, unceasing motion of a ship on the water.

Karine had enough [endurance] from her class and levels that sea sickness wasn't a concern for her, but she definitely felt no particular affinity or affection for the sea. When Karine had been furiously clawing her way out of the slums in her teens there had realistically been two legal options available to her: the Army or the Navy and she had never really given any serious consideration the latter, keeping her feet on solid ground had always seemed preferable to Karine even if everything else was equal, the Navy was supposed to have worse rations as well. Now of course Karine couldn't help but wonder if, as a sailor she would have avoided ended up where she was now: convicted of insubordination and dereliction of duty and shipped off to an unexplored and inhospitable continent to labour away the debt of her crimes. Logically the answer was no, the Navy was probably just as full of corrupt, self serving bastards as the army was, but those kind of questions had a way of refusing to accept logical answers.

Probably wouldn't have had a stupid horse to get so attached to in the Navy though.. Karine thought, feeling a strange ache

the empty slot of her [animal companion bond] skill. The priests always said that skills and traits and the like were built on top of your soul not inside of it, so damage or disruption to your skills couldn't actually harm your soul. It didn't always feel like that though.

"UP AND AT'EM DREGS!" Boomed a harsh voice from somewhere above Karine, interrupting her brooding. "BACKS UP AGAINST THE WALLS! THE MARINES WILL ESCORT YOU TO SHORE ONE CELL GROUP AT A TIME. OR ONE WRONG MOVE AND THEY'LL BEAT YOUR SORRY ASSES UNCONSCIOUS AND TOSS YOU INTO THE SHALLOWS INSTEAD!"

It was not an idle threat. Although the marine contingent of a prison ship was larger than standard for a ship of the line and the prisoners were suppressed by a series of enchantments carved into , they were still badly outnumbered by the prisoners aboard and consequently had been skittish and quick to resort to violence to reassert control the whole trip. With a soft grunt, Karine rolled off the sodden scrap of an old sack that she'd been issued as a sleeping mat. Karine stood against the back wall of the ship and then, when she realised she had unconsciously adopted the ramrod straight posture of a soldier at attention she forced herself to slump against the wall. If the Marines were going cell by cell then she was in for a long wait, hers was near the back of the ship, the...aft? What was it with sailors and all their weird terms anyway?

---

All told, Karine would have put it at somewhere over two hours of waiting before she and her cellmates were escorted, blinking, into the sunlight for the first time in months. The air of Port Alcibard hit Karine like a wall, hot and humid to the point that it seemed to drape over her like a thick blanket that did nothing to impede the sun's rays beating down on her.

Beats freezing my tits off in Hiberos at least Karine thought grimly, wiping sweat from her forehead as she waited in line with the other prisoners. The frigid Northern region had been Karine's first deployment out of basic training and still occupied a special place of loathing in her heart. Karine had nearly lost her long, pointed ears to frostbite in her first week until an older soldier had taught her how to pin them back with a second scarf under her hat. The tropical heat might be unpleasant in its own way, but at least Karine's ears were safe and the incredibly thin, ragged clothes she'd been issued as a prisoner would actually serve decently well in this heat.

"ATTENTION PRISONERS!" boomed a voice from the head of their queue, where a portly officer with a greenish tint to his skin stood with a scroll under one arm. THe officer was dressed in the crisp, full length naval officers uniform and was sweating profusely in the tropical sun, every few seconds he had to raise a little handkerchief to his forehead to mop it in a way that seemed so practiced he was no longer consciously aware he was doing it and Karine almost felt a pang of sympathy for the man. Almost.

"You will now be assigned your work postings! Your skills and class levels have been assessed as per your intake forms and taken into account for these assignments but priority has been given to those roles the colony needs filled. If your skills aren't suitable for any specialised roles the colony needs filled then you will be assigned to the general labour pool to assist in construction and transportation of material. If you don't like your labour assignment you can refuse it in favour of general labour but I don't recommend it! Specialists are entitled to a modest set of privileges and rations as long as they perform their duties competently and obediently. Remember that these privileges can and will be revoked at the first instance of misbehaviour so if you want to continue enjoying them you'd best mind yourself! Now step up one at a time! Look lively!"

Being at the back of the ship meant Karine was at the back of the queue as well, so it was hurry up and wait again while the other prisoners were processed ahead of her, it was almost like being back in the army again. By the time Karine was face to face with the officer the man was clearly bored out of his skull, but his expression livened up into a nasty sneer after he gave what was presumably her paperwork a cursory scan.

"Well well, fancy meeting one His Majesty's finest here," said the Officer, earning a snicker from one of the Marines behind him. Karine schooled her features into a flat mask of indifference. It wasn't hard, there'd been plenty of this already from the Marines in the early stages of the journey, before they'd gotten bored with her lack of reaction and moved onto softer targets. Karine was feeling pretty indifferent to most things these days anyway so it was hardly much of a leap for her.

"You've been assigned to the scavenging and exploration teams Corporal," said the Officer "Lucky you! Scavengers can shorten the duration of their sentences significantly by retrieving valuables from the Arkonan ruins dotting the jungle out there. Or by getting devoured by some horrible, tropical dungeon spawn of course. We always seem to have plenty of openings on the scav teams for some reason so we're glad to have you here!"

Karine nodded once. "Where do I go?" she asked flatly.

"Bah, you report to Sergeant Kilakkis, over there," said the Officer, scowling now that he was deprived of whatever reaction he'd been after. "Get the fuck out of my sight and go do everyone a favour by getting yourself killed out there,"

Karine turned and left, although once she was no longer making eye contact with the officer she rolled her eyes. Prick. Well he was right about one thing, one way or another her sentence had probably just gotten a lot shorter.

Skylord Nexus

 

[Skylord Nexus]

As the boat came to a halt Silas straightened up slightly from his current position leaning against one of the walls. He'd been on edge for days... weeks? In all honestly he wasn't sure any more the days seems to melt together in a maelstrom of tedium and horrible hygiene. On that subject actually the young noble was rather glad they'd come to a stop so he no longer had to face the threat of releasing his bowl onto the floor and having to live with it, something that had happened on multiple occasions during the journey. Alas it seemed Silas lacked the necessary endurance to deal with being on the seas, as well as the necessary constitution to stomach such... 'low class' meals.

All in all it had been a pretty miserable trip. And don't even get him started on the people! The people he was surrounded by were stinky, idiotic, raunchy and basically every other disgusting word in the dictionary! It honestly made him wonder if this cruel and unusual punishment was worth it rather than the alternative... then he remembered the alternative was death... so yeah, it probably was worth it, but it was still insane to him that his father arranged this for him and he was supposed to be grateful for the old man stepping in and getting his sentence reduced. He'd lost EVERYTHING! Like hells he was going to be grateful to anyone, especially not his father.

Everything really had gone wrong so fast and the worst thing was it had been dumb luck they had caught him! Someone had spread random rumours about him practising and researching evil and forbidden magic, except it was complete nonsense! None of the proof lined up, and he hadn't even began looking into the stuff he'd been specifically accused of! Unfortunately when he was dragged away to trial, his levels were looked into and the evil and forbidden magic he actually HAD been researching and practising became apparent. Normally a person would be killed for such transgressions, however his ever 'merciful' father had stepped in and used his considerable influence to get his heir exiled to the middle of the blood jungle instead!... although he probably wasn't the heir now was he? That was probably given to his brother the second he was chucked onto this accursed ship... and wasn't that a sobering thought?

He had little time to dwell on his destroyed life however, as a guard came through and ordered them get against the walls. For his part Silas obeyed, with the cuffs on he couldn't use a drop of his magic or skills, and even if he could he wouldn't. He remembered what happened early on into the voyage where one of his numerous cell mates decided he wanted out and attacked a guard... it didn't go well, the man had been beaten to a pulp and left in the room in the muck and filth... his wounds quickly became infected and he died. It was classed as an accident, a terrible, unforeseen accident that could happen to anyone, that's what they said... the message was pretty clear, even to the most moronic among them.

From what he could tell, his cell was around the middle, so with a sigh, Silas closed his eyes and tried to block out everything around him. He was probably still gonna be stuck waiting for an hour at least, so he needed to try and remain composed as much as possible... he was going to be here a long time after all...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------

The Necromancer grimaced as the portly officer came forward and began telling them about their new lives. In a twisted way it was funny to see how similar things were here compared to back home, there seemed to always be some self important, fat old man who hadn't had a day of hard work for the last 20 years. In another life he supposed that could have been him eventually... probably not though, Father prided himself on the family's 'morale fibre' after all, he's never let his children turn out like that.

As the speech finished Silas snorted "'Look lively' He says! easy for him to say he's not the one going into bloody dungeon infested jungles or doing back breaking labour." Yet dispute his feelings on the matter Silas did as he was told and took his place with the others right in the middle and tried desperately to ignore the sun beating down on his back. What he wouldn't give for some shade right now.

Alas, as the line slowly moved shade ever came, only boredom and the feeling of slowly cooking within his own skin before FINALLY it was his turn! Of course, as was his luck, any relief he may have felt melted away as the officer smirked and began to speak.

"Well, well, well, look what we've got here lads, some big fancy pants noble, forced to live it up with the scum of the world. Make the most of the experience, from what i understand you're going to be hear for a long time." Him and what Silas assumed were his friends, laughed loudly at him, causing the noble to scowl. Of course the officer picked up on this right away and continued "Oh, what's wrong? Upset you have to slum it with the rest of us? Well get used to it, you're not the boss here, and i think we'll enjoy teaching you your place."

Silas took a deep, calming breath before smirking and leaning in closer to the man "Let me make one thing clear you pathetic piece of human excrement. While i may be here as a result of my own crimes, i am still of noble heritage, which does count for something, such as priority mail to my lord father, whom i imagine won't be too happy with you targetting his HEIR specifically." It was a lie, of course, his father hated strong arming people using their families position, but the guards didn't need to know that, and judging from the slightly paler look on the man's face, his words got through the man's thick skull.

"R-right... well.. You're to report to Sergeant Kilakkis... so y-you best hurry and not c-cause any t-trouble!"

Silas merely rolled his eyes and nodded, making his way to where this sergeant was supposed to be.

What the young man didn't expect however was the sight of a lumbering rock monster with a young girl sat in it's hand, standing next to the Sergeant. The girl upon seeing him seemed to look at him analytically with an intelligence that seemed to far exceed her apparent age, and it sent a chill down the man's spin.

"Hmm... seems to be healthy and in good condition. I can certainly work with this. A fit young body should be much more accepting of certain mixtures, especially compare to my previous group... Yes boy you'll certainly do."

Silas just stared and blinked a few times before sighing. "That execution feels much more appealing right about now..."

 

[AtlannianSpy]

Sergeant Kilakkis turned out be a bronze skinned, muscular man with a shiny, bald head and a mouthful of shiny, white teeth that he frequently displayed with wide, friendly smiles. It was disconcerting frankly, every Sergeant Karine had ever known had been a jaded, bitter shell of a person motivated chiefly by spite and the distant prospect of a military pension, Karine doubted marine sergeants were any different in that regard so what exactly was this Kilakkis so happy about?

But if Kilakkis was disconcerting he still had nothing on the motley collection of prisoners Karine was supposed to be "adventuring" alongside. The most striking was obviously the hulking, stone golem carting around a little girl. Nobody appeared to be freaking out about that so presumably some fucky mage shit was going on there. Fleshsculpting maybe? Karine had heard some nobles shelled out small fortunes to have flesh sculpter remodel their appearance to be younger, more beautiful or more in line with their supposed noble bloodlines. Sculpting someone all the way down to the body of a child seemed a bit extreme but Karine didn't know enough about the discipline to say for sure either way.

The rest of the group were less eye catching but not necessarily less sinister looking to Karine's eye. There was a large, squinty eyed man with the kind of round but solid build certain strength based classes tended to develop if they aged up before getting into the high levels. To go by the man's calloused, swollen knuckles and his misshapen nose he was probably some variety of [brawler] or maybe a [bouncer]. There was a tall, curvy woman with long, dark hair and icey blue eyes who would probably have looked stunning if she wasn't wearing the same ratty rags as the rest of them and her hair wasn't a tangled, sweaty mess just like Karine's was. As it was she was merely beautiful and Karine had to suppress a twinge of envy when she thought about how her own rags hung off her leaner frame like laundry hung up to dry. It wasn't immediately obvious what the woman's class was, though Karine thought maybe some kind of [agility] build was likely and when the woman muttered something under her breath Karine caught the trace of a Vorenskiyan accent.

Standing in the back, trying to look unobtrusive was a skinny man who shared Karine's pointed, wide set ears who Karine pegged almost certainly as a [poacher] or something similar. Her first posting had been bandit suppression out in the boonies and the line between [hunter], [poacher] and [bandit archer] was always fluid and blurry, with folks alternating between all three as the winds of opportunity dictated. Assuming any of the man's skillset translated to the thick jungle of the new world he might actually come in rather handy.

Last of all...

Ah fuck me... Karine thought

Most people in the lower classes think Nobles walk around like they have a stick up their asses, but this is not correct or rather, it is imprecise. Soldiers walk around with sticks in their asses, because if a bitter, jaded shell of a person motivated chiefly by spite kicks the shit out of you every time you slouch you learn to stand up straight and the habit sticks. Nobles have an upright posture, but its more fluid and casual: rather than having a stick up their asses Karine has always thought of nobles as having a string attached to their head that lifts them ever so slightly off the ground. Nobles glide around as though not deigning to dirty the bottom of their feet with the same Earth everyone else walks on. The dark haired, horned young man was wearing the same rags as the rest of the group, but his posture screamed noble at the top of its lungs and that was a huge fucking problem.

It was because of a noble that Karine was in this mess to begin with after all.

Unaware, or perhaps simply uncaring of the simmering tension in the air, Sergeant Kilakkis rubbed his hands together, smiling enthusiastically.

"Looks like the gang's all here, capital! How'sabout you all follow me on a little stroll and I'll give you the rundown on how all this works?"

---

Port Alcibard was not exactly picturesque strolling material. There were a few solid, stone buildings on the skyline, mainly a manor that probably belonged to the governor and a squat, imposing building that looked like a barracks to Karine's eye, but the vast majority of the construction was hastily assembled, wooden structures little better than shacks with canvas roofs. The road wasn't paved and the heavy, tropical rains had turned it into a slurry of mud and, to judge by the smell, not a little horseshit. Frankly the smell of horseshit was probably preferable to the smell of human shit coming from the open sewage ditches lining the road. Thankfully someone had taken some time to lay down planks of wood to form a rough, crooked walking path between the two shit abysses but it was a narrow thing and the planks weren't secured by anything more than the suction action of the mud and fervent hope.

Everywhere there were prisoners engaged in labor of some kind, mainly hauling cargo or construction materials it seemed like, but plenty seemed to have gotten permission to set up stalls hawking services or cobbled together goods and extremely dubious food.

"The Governor has established a rather innovative system for managing the colony as both a punitive and money making enterprise," said Sergeant Kilakkis as the group walked past a greasy looking man who tried to tempt them with grilled sausages of wholly mysterious provenance. "Everything runs on these vouchers called 'certificates of merit' or just merits' which the Governor issues in limited quantities. As long as you work and don't cause trouble you'll be paid merits' according to the value of your work and you can use them to pay for lodgings, food and pay off your sentence. After you've paid off your sentence you can even asve them up and pay for passage back to Lysenna. You can even trade them amongst yourselves for goods and services like these enterprising fellows are doing. As part of the Scavenging and Exploration team, you lot are tasked with venturing out beyond the Port walls to look for valuables from the ruins and useful components from the monsters in the jungle. Then you bring them back here to one of the quartermaster posts and exchange them for merits. Simple no?"

 

[Skylord Nexus]

Being the first there Herta had the advantage of getting a good look at all of her new test subjects... or 'team mates' she supposed. Apparently being called test subjects seemed to make people feel uncomfortable, she had no idea why though, logically it should be an honour to help a genius such as herself better her research. Regardless though, even before they turned up she was sure they would be better than those sentient pieces of rubbish she'd been paired with before, and when they finally began turning up she certainly wasn't disappointed.

The first to turn up had been a boy with mostly elven features, the only distinctly not elven part were the horns on his head, alas plenty of races had possessed horns and nowadays it was impossible to tell exactly which race the feature descended from without other signifiers. Honestly though it was of little concern, what interested her more was that the boy seemed to be of noble decent judging by his mannerisms, and that had her wondering about the alchemical properties of his blood, and if his presumable stronger elven heritage would yield any different results compared to a regular person... of course that was rather dependent on if he actually was mostly pure, she knew how the nobles liked to lie about such things after all.

The next few to turn up were, while not as interesting as the noble boy, still promising. The bulky man seemed like he'd likely have decent [Endurance] or [Constitution] which would hopefully help him withstand the effects of some of her stronger potions.

Then was the curvy woman which Herta couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards.Not for something as stupidly superficial as he looks of course, but because her body seemed to be at the age Herta was hoping to revert to before becoming a level-less child with non-functional legs. Personal feeling aside however the woman looked healthy enough, and seeing as how her previous subjects had all been men, the genius certainly wouldn't say no to having a subject closer to her own physiology.

Next was perhaps the most disappointing of the group, a skinny man who seemed intend of avoiding attention. By all counts he seemed perfectly average and his skills were likely just as average as well. She certainly wouldn't dismiss healthy test subjects TEAM MATES, but she didn't have high hopes for his impact on her research.

And finally a young, lean elven woman appeared. At a glance Herta couldn't really pick out anything of particular note, however the girl did seem observant which seemed promising, plus given her general body shape and physique the young/old woman was willing to bet the girl had been some kind of solider, she'd have to wait and observe to be sure though.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------

Unlike Herta, Silas didn't really have any strong opinions on his partners. In his opinion they were probably dying out in the jungle anyway so there was little point in getting too invested in them. No the person Silas was more concerned about was the Sergeant. As a member of a prominent family the necromancer was used to facades and false emotions and at first that's what he thought Kilakkis' deal was as well, but the longer it went on the harder it was to tell. The man was creepy to Silas, no doubt about that, but as the nobleman became less and less sure exactly what the sergeant's deal was the more disconcerting the man became.

However Kilakkis soon became the least of Silas' concern as he realised exactly how foul this place was. Their was little infrastructure worth a damn that wasn't the barracks or the governor's manor house, and at the sight of that he had to fight own a remark about how his own home was MUCH larger. Then there was the swage in the gods damned street! The only thing covering it up was no pieces of wood for crying out loud! And the smell... he could hardly bare it! As someone who was born and raised inside a well off part of a developed city Silas could barely wrap his head around it! The closest he'd come was reading watered down accounts of such places and it had seemed like a novelty more than anything else, especially when he wasn't traipsing around there himself.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------

Both Herta and Silas seemed to contemplate the Sergeant's description of the Governor's 'innovative' system, both coming to similar conclusions on the corruption of it, conclusions both of them seemed intent on voicing, Silas seeming to get the ball rolling first, his voice taking on an overly happy and obviously sarcastic tone.

"Oh yes! We get to work ourselves to the bone, and almost certainly die just to get certificates who's value is controlled entirely by a governor who's soul interests are keeping order and pumping out as many resources as possible. We are ever so lucky to have the value of out work decided on at a whim. And then as an EXTRA special reward after we've worked off our crimes we get to work MORE just for the privilege of getting home from the middle of nowhere that we were forceable taken to! Truly so innovative and generous!"

His expression then dropped down to a dead pan and his voice lost all semblance of joy.

"Please don't baby us Sergeant. We all know we're here to be worked to death. I for one would rather you spoke honestly rather than trying to frame this as some overly generous or ingenious idea we should be happy about."

Herta hummed in agreement.

"Indeed, I agree with the boy. The corruption of the system is painfully relevant from having to work to get out passage home after our sentence is done, to the fact that the value of these merits and what they can get us is entirely at the mercy of a Governor who cares little for us and everything about what our labour can produce."

 

[AtlannianSpy]

"Cheerful bunch aren't you?" said the Sergeant, rolling his wide shoulders in an expressive shrug. "If you want my advice or , well, even if you don't because you're prisoners and I can say whatever I want to you: My advice would be to take life as it comes a little more. The God's above know you might not have all that much of it left to live anymore!" Kilakkis said thoughtfully, then he suddenly brightened with the air of someone remembering something pleasant unexpectedly. "I haven't even gotten to the part where you can borrow merits to purchase starting equipment for your first expedition! At a very reasonable rate of interest I might add!" Kilakkis then waved his hand in the direction of the lumbering stone golem. "Obviously that's less of a boon for those of you who have already received special dispensation, but the rest of you look rather bereft of gear and the jungle is no place to go tramping about without any equipment,"

Kilakkis turned off the main street, leading the little party into a squat, but quite sturdy looking building made of mud bricks. The building was cut off from the rest of the city by a thick wall that was perhaps two metres tall and manned by surly looking marine sentries.

"Lo the Gate!" Called out Kilakkis cheerfully, raising a hand up to signal at the sentries. "Got some fresh blood to get all nice and kitted out for the Jungle,"

One of the sentries scoffed, but he still made some kind of movement below the lip of the wall and the heavy, metal gate swung open under the power of a straightforward enchantment.

"This is the Exchange," Said Kilakkis, leading them into the building. "You can take anything you find out there here to exchange it for merits and you can also spend merits on equipment that the Crown has passed over or that has been generously donated by the garrison,"

"Worthless junk you mean," said Karine, speaking for the first time since...fuck, when had she lost spoken? The hoarseness in her voice was letting her know it had definitely been long enough to get rusty.

"Come now, one man's mud is another man's mithril, isn't that what they say?" said Killakkis, opening a door to reveal a large room full long. low toubles covered in... well for sure none of it was mithril.

Stacked and scattered across the tables in no particular order were chipped cutlasses, ragged cloaks, splintered staves, rusty revolvers and one extremely battered breastplate with a cannon hole neatly punched out of the centre to reveal an unfortunate, brownish red stain on the inside of it.

"Pick out whatever you like," said Kilakkis cheerfully. "The enchantment on the room will automatically detect anything you leave with and deduct the cost from your account,"

"Very convenient," said Karine dryly, gingerly picking up a floppy hat with several holes in it and then quickly dropping it when an enormous, shiny blue beetle crawled out of it and fell down onto the table.

 

[Skylord Nexus]

Silas' eye twitched slightly as the guard, the guard that was PAID TO BE HERE, told them to take each day as it came before going off on another tangent about more ways they can increase their sentence! The young necromancer may have been used to corruption given his noble background, but at least his peers had the decency to put up superficial facades so you could at least ignore all the crap they were getting up to behind the scenes. As such Silas once again brought out his chirpy, happy and overly sarcastic voice to response!

"Boy, oh boy! Praise be to the gods above that our generous hosts allow us to increase our sentences in order to buy vital gear we need to survive in the middle of this monster infested jungle!"

Before he could continue his rant however the small girl with the giant rock monster cut in.

"Technically most of the jungle is actually monster free boy. Seeing as most, if not all monsters, come from dungeons then only dungeon infested areas tend to have 'infestations' of monsters. Far more pedestrian threats await us out in the jungle such as various tropical diseases, venomous creatures, and, of course, hazardous terrain and flora."

Silas wanted to scream, like REALLY scream... well technically he'd have preferred to chug a bottle of wine or two however since he doubted he'd find any fine vintages available to the prison population screaming seemed like his best option, fortunately though he had enough self respect and dignity to restrain himself from making such a public scene and just continued with his sarcasm.

"Well that's alright then! Every day as it comes right? Every murderous, bloody day!"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------

As they reached the exchange Silas couldn't help but nod in agreement to Karine's words. Even at just a glance it was obvious that there wasn't a single piece of decent gear and that in all likelihood the Exchanges selection was probably made up of dead inmates gear or poorly aged slave gear dragged back from the dungeons.

As the noble strode past Kilakkis to inspect the meagre options available he'd snort at the saying uttered by the man.

"I'm familiar with a similar saying, it goes like this: One man's mud is another's mud as well because it's literal crap."

And with that he went off to inspect the weapons, seeing as how they were the only thing he actually needed to buy. he REFUSED to wear ANYTHING this ghastly place had to offer, especially when some of it still had blood stains.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------

While the others browsed Herta remained at the entrance with the Sargent, actively ignoring his presence like she did with most people. After all, she already had everything she needed equipment wise, sure she'd lost her potion stockpile and ingredients to the guards when they investigated the deaths of her previous subjects, however such things were easily replaceable and really only served to help her gain more exp.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------

Silas' eye was twitching again as he begrudgingly narrowed down his weapon choice to 2 options, one was a worn dagger, while not ideal for ritual practise and certainly not his cup of tea, the blade was seemed to be clean and unrusted so he wouldn't have to worry so much about diseases if he did need to draw blood. His over option was basically a skull stuck onto a gnarled branch, and while he'd concede it may have been a weak, passible necromantic focus everything else was just horrible about it! First the fact it looked like something a deranged Sewer dwelling Corpse Twister would hobble around with. Second was the fact that staffs were inherently horrible, at lease in the young necromancers opinion, they were bulky, cumbersome and while good foci when made correctly offered next to no defence at close range.

The noble couldn't help but sigh and mutter out a quick curse of "Gods of Blood and Darkness preserve me." under his breath before swiping up the dagger and making his way back to the Sargent, albeit begrudgingly.

"So what next? We get shipped off to die straight away now we have our top of the line weapons?"

 

[AtlannianSpy]

"You shouldn't look down on mud," Karine heard Kalakkis say cheerfully somewhere behind her as she browsed. "A decently leveled [brickmaker] can do some pretty good work with mud, that's what most of the more permanent buildings in the city are made of. This savage continent has many bounties ripe for the taking, but she offers up none of them so freely as she does vast, vast quantities of mud,"

To Karine it seemed fairly obvious that the cheerful Sergeant was having an immense amount of fun needling the prickly noble. The whole conversation would have been over long ago if the boy just figured out how to not react so colorfully to every little thing but evidently that wasn't a skill imparted by a noble education.

In the meantime Karine was content to tune out the sideshow and enjoy a relatively friction-less shopping experience. That didn't mean Karine found anything particularly good though. Even without much of a reference point for the value of a single "merit" the price tags made Karine want to cringe, especially considering the state of all this equipment would have had the Master of Arms in her old regiment apoplectic with rage.

In the end Karine picked out a sabre coated in a thick patina of rust. The blade looked bad but it lacked the more serious structural damage most of the other weapons had. Some cleaning oil and...honestly quite a lot of time and effort, would see the sabre restored to something like acceptable quality. The exchange didn't' actually have cleaning oil for sale of course, alongside at least a dozen other odds and ends Karine would have considered absolutely mandatory for any kind of serious expedition into uncharted, difficult terrain.

Soldiers make do...

Karine thought with a grim, tight little smile. She would have to see if she could scavenge something out in the field. If they took down a beast of some sort its fat could be boiled down to tallow and that could serve as a waterproofing coat at least.

Having settled on her primary armament Karine lingered over a pistol. As a [Dragoon] Karine had a number of important skills that couldn't really be used without a firearm or something similar so she'd be somewhat handicapped without one. On the other hand the only firearm up for grabs was in such dire straits that it might end up being just as much of a handicap if she did take it.

That barrel was absolutely pitted with rust, not just a thin cosmetic layer but a thick coating that Karine could see had eaten deeply into the metal like termites getting into support beams. There was a thin crack running down the length of the the barrel that someone had tried inexpertly repair by hammering a band of metal around it like a brace. Mostly what the crude repairman had succeeded in doing was giving the battered weapon an unfortunately phallic silhouette rather than shoring it up structurally in any meaningful way. Karine gave it exactly even odds that when she pulled the trigger the pistol would do anything other than explode immediately in her hands, and every shot thereafter would have increasingly unfavorable odds.

In the end Karine decided to take the sorry pistol, it would be better to have it and not need it then need it and not have it and the poor object deserved a soldier's death at this point. If worst came to worst Karine could let some forsaken dungeon spawn try to swallow her hand and pull the trigger at that point. That way the bullet would have to strike flesh no matter what ungodly angle it exited the barrel at and the beast would maybe choke on the smouldering remains of the gun as well. Letting out a soft sigh, Karine collected her weaponry and stopped by the clothing section to scoop up a pair of extremely battered boots and a shirt she planned to shred up for cleaning rags and foot wrappings: none of the boots had been in her size she was going to need to stuff them to keep them from falling off.

With her "shopping" done Karine made her way back to the sergeant where the others had started to gather after outfitting themselves.

---

The little lordling had found himself a dagger, but judging from the staff he'd been weighing it up against he wanted it as a casting focus of some sort rather than for anything so crude as stabbing. The Vorenskiyan woman had picked up a pair of chipped kitchen knives that she handled with a casual familiarity that suggested she had no problems whatsoever with stabbing things. The [poacher] had picked out a blunt looking woodaxe and a length of wood that might be a bow and the heavy set man had picked up the staff the noble boy had spurned, considered it for a moment and then promptly snapped it in half over his knee, taking the top half along with the skull set into it as a kind of mace or cudgel.

"Eager to get started are we?" Kilakkis was saying to the lordling when Karine caught up to them, his broad smile securely in place. "Love the enthusiasm! But we've found that sending teams out fresh off the boat tends to lead to... less than stellar results. Why that one team barely made it past the gate before the spined toads got to them. Sad," Kilakkis shook his head ruefully. "But I have a good feeling about you lot! To that end I've booked out training field three for a few hours so you all can shake off a bit of the rust, get your land legs back and maybe get to know each other a bit. Off we go!"

---

Training Field three was less an actual training field and more an open patch of ground on the outskirts of the city that had been cleared of jungle but not used for building yet. The ground was almost entirely mud with a few enterprising weeds looking to reclaim the land for the jungle and someone had made a very desultory effort at setting up some targets by planting some half length logs vertically in the ground. The overall effect might not have been quite so offensive if not for the fact that a much nicer training ground, presumably reserved for the garrison, with proper packed sand and an actual firing range, was situated right next door.

"Beautiful isn't she?" Kilakkis said happily. "And she's all yours for the next three hours so have fun!"

Karine didn't want to have fun. she wanted to clean the shardbiting rust off her shardbiting piece of crap sword because the part of her that was still stuck in army mode was expecting a master of arms to appear out of nowhere and start screaming at her for daring to carry around such a shabbily treated weapon. Unfortuantely Karine just didn't have anything to work with. Karine's [strength] score was high enough that she could manage without an acid, but she still needed some kind abrasive agent like steel wool or sand...

Mid thought Karine's eyes landed on the creepy little girl and her golem. Ordinarily Karine would have been perfectly happy to steer well clear of whatever weirdness was going on there but right now she didn't have much to lose anyway so with a shrug Karine made her way over to the creepy little girl and her hulking, stone guardian.

"Can I have some sand?" Karine asked flatly, holding up her rusty sabre by way of explanation. "You could like, scrape some off or something right?"

 

[Skylord Nexus]

Herta took her time to observe each of her new test subjects teammates as they went to pic their weapons and equipment, hoping to get a better idea of their abilities aside from her initial physical assessment.

The noble boy seemed to have been antagonising between a dagger and a staff meaning he was some kind of spell caster, most likely a [necromancer] given his choices, however it was possible he could be some kind of [Ritualist] or [Blood Mage] as well, a rich noble would likely be able to source the rare books needed to learn such criminal classes after all... at least to such a clean degree.

The curvy woman had picked up a pair of knifes and seemed to have some familiarity with them, so [Rouge] was her general guess, of course there was such a wide spectrum of classes which would give a person skill with daggers that there was no way to know for sure.

The average looking man had grabbed a blunt axe and what could possibly be a bow. Again, nothing special, probably some kind of [Hunter] or [Poacher], either way he continued to be of little interest to her.

The burly man then snapped the staff the boy had previously been considering in order to make a passible blunt weapon using the skull as some kind of mace head. Crude, but effective and it at least showed then man had some passible brain cells which would hopefully make him less irritating to be around.

Then finally the elven looking girl grabbed a sabre, and after some consideration, a pistol. Herta immediately pegged her as a [dragoon]. Which it certainly wasn't the only class that used both melee weapons and guns, given the girls seemingly military background it would make the most sense.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------


The young noble huffed and rolled his eyes. He knew he shouldn't be allowing the sergeant to get a rise out of him like this, but honestly after the hellish month he'd had it felt good to just be able to snap back at someone. It probably didn't help either that nobody had ever really spoken to him like that, no-one who was technically bellow him anyway and it irked the young noble slightly, especially since he'd always considered himself above such things as looking down on others, yet something about it just grinded his gears and urged him on to respond.

"So what you're saying then is everything here is literally made out of shit... good to know but i could have already guessed."

It was then that the small child once again cut in her voice always seemed to be laced with some level of smug superiority as if she considered everyone around her to be idiots.

"Actually boy if the bricks here to made out of excrement they wouldn't possess the same building qualities as a mud brick made by a [Brickmaker]. Despite having similar appearances the mud brick, when crafted by a sufficiently skilled craftsman will be much sturdier than a excrement brick."

All Silas could do was huff and shake his head.

"Yes, i know, i was being metaphorical. And my NAME is Silas! Not boy, or test subject, or whatever else you have in your head."

The little girl just shrugged, evidentially not caring.

"And why should a care to remember your name. That would take up precious space in my mind for actually valuable information. Whereas boy is a perfect descriptor of what you are, and evidentially it works well enough since it elicited a reaction out of you."

Silas mumbled some words under his breath about "annoying little girls." before stalking off after noticing that large man carrying the top half of the staff he'd briefly considered as a weapons, seemingly displeased he'd have to even look at it. That, mixed with Herta's words earlier had soured his mood so much he didn't even rise to make snarky retorts to Sergeant Kilakkis' words... needless to as it was likely a wonderful reprieve for the entire group to get five minutes of relative silence.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------------------------

The state of the training field was hardly a surprise to either Silas or Herta, Silas because by now he'd come to expect that everything in this gods forsaken land was complete shit, and Herta because she'd been there before, although she hadn't had high estimations of the place the first time either.

For his part Silas didn't see much point in training, as even with an inferior weapon like the dagger he was twirling in his hand he was still exceedingly confident in his own skills. So instead he opted for some extra rest, going over to one of the logs and laying down against it, allowing his eyes to close. He made sure not to fall asleep though, he wasn't stupid enough to shut his eyes around strangers.

Herta meanwhile was about to start working out exactly what she could do too with the group when Karine approached her wanting sand to help clean some of the rust away. The girl had her golem lower her slightly so she could get a butter look at the blade.

"Hmm... I certainly could... and in this instant i will, help you out girl. If I'd had any of my ingredients with me i probably could have produced some kind of corrosive solution to better treat it, alas sand will have to do in these trying times when genius is limited by though more ignorant."

The large golem than held it's over arm out and balled it's fist, rubbing it's 'fingers' against the palm of it's hand hand, causing sand to begin to fall.

"I'd hurry up and get some if i were you though girl. I refuse to majorly effect the integrity of my Golem's hand for a sword."

She then reached behind her and pulled out a glass flask, passing it to the [Dragoon].

"I'll be extra generous and let you use of my flasks. Please return it when you're done though, and preferably cleaned."

 

[AtlannianSpy]

"Thanks," said Karine, a bit dryly, as she accepted the flask. With a deft movement Karine positioned the flask to catch the stream of falling golem debris, unable to suppress the unpleasant notion that she was collecting dandruff or something similar.

Her bounty attained, Karine sat down cross legged with her new (to her) sabre and got to work. Without any more advanced tools, it was a simple matter rubbing down the dull, rusty metal blade with sand, water and a rag, flaking away the rust with sheer elbow grease. Karine had enough [strength] that it wasn't a difficult job, but it wasn't exactly stimulating so after a few minutes of work Karine made an unpracticed stab at conversation.

"So you're an alchemist then huh?" Karine said to the person who, for all the world, looked like a tiny child but had no trouble loftily addressing Karine as "girl." The last person to do that had been the matron of the orphanage Karine had grown up in so the effect was a bit eerie. If the Golemancer here started telling her she was a worthless brat who wouldn't amount to anything then Karine could probably safely assume she was back on the prison ship trapped in a fever driven hallucination.

"I would have thought you were... well," Karine sort of shrugged with one shoulder in the direction of the hulking stone golem because her hands were busy. Karine was no mage or anything but the golem didn't much look like a product of alchemy to her.

---

Meanwhile near the targets another attempt at conversation was being made, with equal ineptitude albeit far more exuberance.

"And then I grapple 'em like this, see it's all about the wrist control," Explained the heavy set [bouncer] with the skull club, enveloping the slender, pale wrist of his conversation partner with a meaty paw. "Control the wrist and you have leverage over the whole body. Then with [Suppress the Rowdy] I get a bonus to grappling against targets who are enraged or inebriated, so that's when I start taunting 'em, getting inside their head 'like with the mind games. Most people don't know this but [bouncer] is actually a very cerebral, complex class to handle."

"Yes very impressive" Natya said, giving the man holding her wrist a flat, plastic smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. The bouncer failed to take the hint but, to be fair it wasn't Natya's eyes he was looking at most of the time so perhaps that was to be expected.

"Oh please," said the lanky looking poacher as he sidled up on Natya's other side, letting out a derisive scoff. "I'd like to see 'yer 'grapple' some jungle beastie with venomous sweat that'll melt the skin of yer fat hands! No m'lass what you'll want by your side out there in the harsh wilderness is a rugged, outdoor class! Like [poacher] for example!"

"Poisonous," Natya said quietly.

"Wassat lass?"

"It would be poisonous, not venomous in that case- nevermind. Listen both of you gentlemen seem very capable but..." Natya cast around for a reason to extricate herself. Her [Danger Sense] skill, indispensable for any assassin, didn't peg either of the two buffoons as any sort of threat but it would cause a lot of fuss to dispose of them outright with so many witnesses around. How vexing...

Suddenly Natya caught sight of the young nobleman resting against a log. Perfect, Natya had been meaning to introduce herself to the boy anyway, she had pegged him immediately as upper class and should he prove susceptible to her charms he could be a useful avenue of attaining useful privileges or concessions.

"-But as a humble serving girl I only have some modest proficiency with knives so I don't think either of you would benefit much from training with me. The young man over there seems to be wield a similar weapon so I thought I might exchange some pointers with him,"

Natya's would-be partners looked uneasy with this turn of eventts so Natya decided to lay it on a bit thicker to redirect their attention.

"I think you two should spar each other though," she said, with a sultry purr. "I would be sooo interested to see who came out on top,"

With that the two men locked eyes and began glaring each other and Natya took the opportunity to slip effortlessly out of the heavier man's grip with her [disengage] skill, then she sauntered over to the young nobleman, tugging the necklline of her ragged prison tunic down a bit on the way.

"Excuse me I don't mean to disturb your rest," Natya said breathily, leaning over the young man to afford him a strategic view of her freshly adjusted neckline. "But I couldn't help but admire the weapon you picked out for yourself. I use something similar myself you see so I was hoping you could give me some advice on how to...handle, such a long dagger,"