Rifts Adventure IC

[Sherwood]

Dano do you want to try and negotiate the price, or accept it as is?

 

[Psychie]

Terra will follow Olsen to wherever he leads her to teach the healing spell to her with interest in the layout and decor of the manor house. It is always good to see how an elder chooses to live. She spends her time with the other mage focused on the intricate patterns needed to make the incantation work.

 

[Epiphany]

Kimberly Finn​

As the group began to break up, Kimberly stands in their midst, attentive but not wholly part. The life of a White Rose Mystic Knight was often solitary and the habitual circumspection needed to avoid being attacked by the more numerous Mystic Knights make it difficult to just pick up a conversation and socialize. Even in Madhaven, Kimberly has never had much talent for it. Action came naturally to her and there was no call for action. Yet.

The tall Atlantean finally provides something to react to, though. Her head tilts in his direction, the pince nez mirrorshades giving the illusion of her looking at him. Her expression is sober, composed, but not cold. Interested. She doesn't quite smile at his first statement, but it had the semblence of a blessing and there's a lightening about the corners of her eyes that suggests a warmth of spirit.

"Thank you," she says in reply. Perhaps more is expected but Kimberly doesn't know the first thing of what that might be.

As more trickled out of the room, he addresses her once more. This time, his words are more of what she might expect. This time, she actually smiles. "Good," she answers. "For every other Altarain you meet will likely try to kill or capture you. Remain cautious, warrior, and we may yet survive this."

This bit of necessary conversation concluded, Kimberly returns to the cloak room to retrieve what she deposited before making her way from the mansion. She already had rooms in this city, at least for another night, and there was little else she could do to aid the task before them. A night's rest and fresh opportunity might await in the morning.

STATUS

Location: Lord Brazamal's manor, dining room
Active Effects: None

 

[Dano]

Trent Lockhart
Smuggler​

"I can get you a round trip ticket with a one week wait time at the shore for a total of twelve million in credits or goods.

Trent pondered the offer for a moment, turning towards Foss he winked and turned back to Charlie. This was one situation where his telepathy came in handy. Trent stared into Charlie's eyes as his mind attempted to read his thoughts. It was clear that Charlie was figuring in a cut for himself and Trent wanted to know exactly how much he was skimming off the top. Knowing how much he had to work with would allow him to negotiate a better price as they only had 10 million budgeted for travel.

As he stared deep into the mind of Charlie, he tossed out a figure that was more than reasonable in his mind. "Two million to get us there, two million back, and another three and a half million to wait for a week." Not waiting for a response from Charlie he chipped in, "...The team will provide security during the travel." Smirking now, he provided the cherry on top, "...and if no questions are asked about the cargo we will throw in another million credits..." The ball was now in Charlie's court to decide if the price was going to work...

 

[Sherwood]

Charlie does the math in his head, considering just how much he can get Ramius to lower his price to keep his own finders fee coming in at a nice, high number. After a minute, he replies, "8.5 mil, huh? Hmmm. I might be able to go as low as nine mil, provided that any damage done to the ship is compensated back to Ramius, and if any of his crew are killed, you provide another half mil for the family of any casualties."

Thanks to your Telepathy, you can tell that Charlie considers his counter offer to be quite reasonable, giving both him and Ramius a good profit.

 

[Dano]

Trent Lockhart
Smuggler​

Trent lets out a chuckle, "Any damage to the ship will be repaired by the team... If any of Ramius' crew are killed, then it is their own fault as we will not be asking them to join us in Atlantis..." It wasn't a lie, the mechanical engineer would be able to repair any damage to the River Walker and there would be no real reason why any of Ramius' crew should be harmed in any way as the pure size of the vessel would ensure that being on deck was absolutely useless. Holding his gloved hand out to Charlie he reassures him, "...Nine million credits, and not one more...." The handshake would seal the deal and he would be able to return to Lord Brazamal with the good news....

 

[DraconianWarrior]

Blake, Cyborg

I nod to Olsen and look at the books seeking ones about Atlantis technology, when i find them i carry them back to my truck and drive to the designated area that i was told by olsen that i may park for the duration of my stay, i check on Heaphistis to make sure that nothing was tampered with, i then take up a spot in my shop and begin to read,

i will continue reading through out the night since i do not require rest.

 

[Sherwood]

Charlie laughs. "You were always a shrewd negotiator. Nine it is." He holds out his hand to make it official, but you know Charlie well enough that his word goes a long way with him.

 

[Sherwood]

Blake finds his transport waiting right where he has parked it, and there is no sign of tampering. As you go out to your trailer, you do see that there are several gunmen on the property wearing MDC armor; some on top of the manor house and some are walking the grounds. One of the wandering guards makes eye contact with you, gives you a nod and wave, then goes on with his roving patrol of the grounds.

 

[Silanon]

Shaona, technowizard

As the Walker invites both Terra and herself to begin with the lesson, Shaona quickly follows as well - after all, free teachings are rare these days, as most magic users seem to hoard their knowledge. At least those she has met recently - there have been other, better times, that made her the person she is. The technowizard pays little attention to the parts of the manor she sees; given the library the dragon owns, all those other rooms seem almost pointless. Apart from the one room Olsen is headed to, of course, though it could have been closer if not for the other chambers.

Sitting down with the other two, it does not take too long for them to see a certain lack of talent; at least in comparison. At some later point, focusing the magic through a device will likely grant similar results, but that's the easy part. Understanding the magic itself and learning the little details that need her attention is more involved, and so that's the part that matters for now. Undoubtedly, seeing Terra doing well is additional motivation; grimly concentrated on the taught magic, Shaona's doing her best to not be outdone, as uneven as the playing field might be without a device to channel her powers.

 

[Purr]

Gradicus the Red Edge
Atlantean Undead Slayer ​

As more trickled out of the room, he addresses her once more. This time, his words are more of what she might expect. This time, she actually smiles. "Good," she answers. "For every other Altarain you meet will likely try to kill or capture you. Remain cautious, warrior, and we may yet survive this."

Gradicus looked Kimberly in her sightless eyes as he did with anyone he conversed with. It took him a moment, but he realized there was a reply in his heart, and it might be worthwhile to share it with this stranger. He spoke slowly and meaningfully. "I know this well. The first enemy I killed on the sands was an Altarain."

It was not a threat nor a warning, but a shared fact born of brutal memory. To this day, Gradicus felt he was lucky to have survived the battle at all. Of the "six 's' fighting qualities' (strength, speed, stamina, skill, strategy, and spirit) it was only strategy that had saved him. With Kimberly, he expected a valuable ally. But, he asked himself, did he fear her? It was important for him to own it if he did.

The best answer he had was... he had feared nearly losing his life during his first match against a Blind Warrior Woman. She should have won, but she didn't. Now that there was a Blind Warrior Woman in this group, Gradicus realized once again he had some growing to do.

Gradicus looked down on his many tattoos and was glad that conversation with Kimberly was over with. Speaking with odd strangers could be liberating, but right now, he found it draining, and yet... something in him was truly happy and light. He had learned something. About Kimberly. About himself.

For those that remained, Kimberly included, Gradicus announced his intentions. "I am going to bed. Any who wish to train and spar with me, I will rise with the morning sun. May you rest well."

With that, unless something interrupted him, the Tattooed Atlantean Undead Slayer retired.

 

[Dano]

Trent Lockhart
Smuggler​

Knowing now that Charlie had accepted his terms, it was a bit of a relief. They had come in 'under budget' and he would be able to retain the difference. As of now, he had no incentive to inform the other members of the group that he had managed to secure the transportation without expending the full budget. Trent and Foss could pocket those credits without blinking an eye. After shaking Charlie's hand and effectively sealing the deal, he motioned to Foss that it was time to go. Climbing into the Badger, he brought the engines to life. The headlights were more like high powered search lights that would practically blind anyone starring directly at them. It wasn't a long drive back to Lord Brazamal's mansion, but rather than staying inside they would camp out in the Badger. The familiarity would keep Trent sane and he would be able to 'prep' for the next days activities.

 

[Sherwood]

As dawn breaks across the city, those that are early risers are the first to look out at the crisp blanket of snow covering the ground, but at least for now, the sky is clear. Outside the manor home, Eric is already up and out of his bunk, up and dressed, ready for the day. In his own truck, Blake is still reading, a pleasure that he doesn't get enough time to do most days, with real books being so rare now days. Is Trent an early riser, or do you linger in the comfort of your bunk a bit longer?

Inside, Gradicus is also awake, preparing to go outside and brave the cold for some exercise. When you leave your room, you can hear that the house servants are already up and are preparing for the day ahead, and the smell of cooking bacon can be detected. One of the maids pauses when she sees you. "Good sir, the Lord has extended an invitation to you and the others to join him for breakfast. It will be ready in twenty minutes if you care to join him." With that, she heads into your vacated room to see what work needs to be done to prepare it for the next visitor that might stay the night.

When Terra and Shaona wake, they find a slip of paper has been slid under the door of your rooms, extending the invitation to come to breakfast once you are up and presentable.

 

[DraconianWarrior]

i conitue reading, not really careing that the sun has risen

 

[Purr]

"Good sir, the Lord has extended an invitation to you and the others to join him for breakfast. It will be ready in twenty minutes if you care to join him."

Gradicus exited his room with a large towel in hand; he did not want his sweat to drip upon the floors of his generous host. He grinned at the smell of cooked food and the maid before him. "In that case," he replied heartily, "I have only twenty minutes to earn it! If you would excuse me." With that, he quickened his steps outside eager to work his muscles and steel to keep them as one.

Soon, he did not feel the chill but instead the blood rushing through his veins. As he did only when pressed for time, like now, he drew out Summertime, Wintertime - his beloved and earned katana and wakizashi. He pressed imaginary opponents, slashing and stabbing, parrying and countering with the techniques of death learned in many places. He growled and grunted like a beast in the wild and attacked as if the enemies in his mind were vicious and real. Each attack, each movement, every moment, he trained hard as if his very life depended on it, working his spirit, mind, and body, trying faithfully to merge them all into one martial system - his own.

Yet he was far from that moment. The knowing did not bother him. Instead, he relished the learning. He wondered what demons and supernatural villains he could send into the afterlife with his gifts and blessings. Time would tell.

Until then, his joyous practice on the snows continued...

 

[Psychie]

Terra rises and cleans up, seeing the note on the floor. After reading it, she lets out a sigh. I didn't exactly plan on spending the night; if there are no clothes in the closet, I'm going to be stuck in my evening gown at breakfast. I hope that no one minds. She then heads to the closet and opens the door to look inside. Assuming that there is a supply of clothes in there, she will search for something that fits before heading out, right on time for breakfast.

 

[Dano]

Trent Lockhart
Smuggler​

When the sun burst over the horizon, a rash shot right through the pilot window and straight onto his pillow, becaus ed of how he had parked the Badger. He could not gave done this in a hundred years, even if he tried. It shown right into his eye and forced him to wake. Typically. Trent would have slept until 10 or 11am, but since it was going to be a very busy day, he would get up and get ready. Swinging his feet wide out of bed, he pulled himself up, noticing that Foss was already up. He punched a button on the wall and the aroma of fresh coffee filled the air. The odor was revitalizing and helped his eyes remain open. Looking out the window he could see the cyborg's truck and then off to the side was Gradicus training in the yard. Putting the black fuel to his lips, he inhaled deeply, taking it all in slowly. Trent went to the washroom and fixed his hair and washed his face before finishing the morning brew. It was time to inform Lord Brazamal that transportation had been secured...

 

[Sherwood]

When delving into the closet, Terra does indeed find a wide selection of clothes for both men and women in there in various sizes. It doesn't take her long (depending on how picky you are) to find something that will fit and be appropriate for breakfast.

With his quick work-out done, Gradicus heads inside. When you get to the dining room, you see both Olsen and Lord Brazamal are already at the table. Brazamal is quietly sipping a cup of coffee as he looks up as you enter. "Good morning. I trust that you slept well?"

 

[Epiphany]

Kimberly Finn
​

Coming out of the cold and the snow, Kimberly's silver, gold and white mail does a remarkable job of blending in with the landscape. Almost a form of camouflage. Today, she comes fully armed. On her back, a carefully wrapped rifle lies strapped in right next to the pomel of a mighty, likely enchanted silver sword. Both weapons are protected by the great silver shield she wears affixed to the back of her armor for easy carrying. While her hands are therefore free, a pistol is holstered on her right leg. The Altarain Mystic Knight's face is open and exposed, and despite the absence of a breeze, the stray wind stirred up by her passage causes the wisps of brown hair not tied back into a braid to stir.

The mirrorshades partially conceal her expression but the Knight looks rested, ready, perhaps eager.

Entering the dining room once more, Kimberly stops at the sight of others in her party already gathered. With Lord Brazamal seated, Kimberly dips her head in a formal acknowledgement and in answer to his question but says nothing.

STATUS

Location: Lord Brazamal's manor, dining room
Active Effects: None

 

[Psychie]

Terra makes her way to the dining room, this time in a borrowed outfit instead of her evening gown. "I do hope you don't mind that I raided the closet in my room, M'Lord. I can have these back to you later on today, once I get to apartment." She slips into a seat and gratefully takes a danish off the table. Between bites, Terra asks, "Has there been any word on our travel arrangements from Mr. Trent?"

 

[Silanon]

Shaona, technowizard

The early bird gets the worm - but the damn thing probably didn't spend two thirds of the night reading through books. Thus, it's only fair if Shaona rests just a while longer - and another few moments... and... "Bloody hell." The steps outside of the rooms are enough to keep her awake once she makes the mistake to blink once, despite the efforts of the servants to be quiet. Once you hit the road on your own, those sneaky sounds are the first and last warning you get, and being in the safety of a friend's manor doesn't shut down this trained alertness.

After another few minutes of trying to go back to sleep, the technowizard finally gives up - grumpily climbing out of bed and somehow finding her way towards the shower with half-closed eyes. The warm water might not wake her completely, but it helps to get the wild thoughts in her mind in order. Myths and facts about Atlantis, a group silly enough to go there, heaps of money and different motions to close a wound - yesterday has certainly been interesting, to say the least...

When she follows the paper's advice and, more importantly, the smell of coffee shortly after, she's at least half-representable; clothed in the same convenient clothes from yesterday and with the masses of green hair more or less held in place by the red and black headband. Giving the knight near the door a short nod before realizing that this might not quite do the trick, she mumbles a "Morning" before grabbing a cup of the black elixir of life, silently admiring those who already have clear thoughts at this time of the day.

 

[Dano]

​

Trent Lockhart
Smuggler​

Setting down his coffee mug, he threw on his overcoat and climbed out of the Badger. The sun glistened off the dusting of snow that had accumulated on the Badger overnight. Turning, Trent looked at his baby and smiled. The Badger, or Betty (as he called her), had been through hell and back and saved his hide more than a few times. As he turned back towards the mansion, he saw Kimberly headed inside. He walked briskly to the door as the air temperature was still chilly and when the wind gusted it might be considered downright frigid. Just inside the door he removed the coat and hung it on the rack before cleaning his boots on the mat so he did not track snow into the rest of the building. Once he had finished he followed his nose as the smell of bacon was thick in the air.

Bacon... something Trent had not had in what seemed like ages, hardly anyone had pigs anymore so to actually have bacon was almost worth more than gold. The last time he had bacon was almost a year ago and he had procured a relic for this flamboyant casino owner, in return he had been paid in credits and of all things, bacon. The relic wasn't 'hard' to get so the bacon payment was acceptable. To Trent's surprise, when they brought out the bacon, it was already accompanied by other things and in many different forms. There were bacon wrapped scallops from the Northeast, bacon wrapped steaks from the Mid-West, and then chocolate covered bacon from the Northwest. He could have easily sold all of the consumables for over a million credits, but rather he and Foss enjoyed them from time to time for several months after...

"Lord Brazamal..." he said with a grin on his face as he entered the dining room, "... I come bearing great news. My contact was able to locate a vessel large enough to accommodate the group you have tasked with rescuing the slaves. It was not cheap by any stretch of the imagination as we still are not sure how long it will take. The other caveat is that we are responsible for any damage that may come of the ship..." he looked around for the cyborg but did not see him, "...I believe our cyborg 'friend'..." Trent used the term VERY skeptically, "... will be able to handle that I presume?"

Trent's eyes locked onto the plate of bacon on the table and sat down, inhaling deeply as he did so. The aroma was almost intoxicating...almost...

​

 

[Purr]

​

Gradicus the Red Edge
Atlantean Undead Slayer​

Brazamal is quietly sipping a cup of coffee as he looks up as you enter. "Good morning. I trust that you slept well?"

"Fair dawn upon you, Elder Brazamal, Walker Olsen. Fair dawn to everyone." The young Atlantean thought about Brazamal's question before answering. "Aye. Aye, I did. That bed was so comfortable, it was difficult to rise from." With the gourmet dinner they had been served, last night had turned out to be one of the best night's sleep Gradicus had enjoyed in many a long and cold week.

"Gratitude to your blessed chefs for serving us once again. How did you fare in the dreamlands of dragons, Elder? It seemed more than snows weighed down your heart last eve." It was not an idle question; he really wanted to know.

Before Gradicus had entered, he had made certain to towel off the snow. A handmaiden had taken the towel and during the exchange, his stomach growled, mildly embarrassing the young man. He hoped to stuff something down to quiet it before it happened again, and from the smell of things, he and his stomach were not going to be disappointed.

Then his stormy blue eyes caught Terra's outfit. "Terra," he glanced amused at her 'new outfit' without hiding his gaze from her. In his perspective, she seemed to look a little less Atlantean and a little more... human-something. "You have taken a great divergence from the dress you wore last night. Have you taken a liking to human designs or have you ceased to own anything from your home realm?"

Then the smell of bacon greeted him. "That scent," he sniffed the delicious scent of fresh, crisp bacon in the dining room air. "What is that?" His question was not aimed at anyone in particular, but simply his thoughts given voice.

STATUS

Location: Elder Brazamal's manor, dining room
Active Effects: None

 

[Psychie]

Terra looks a bit crestfallen at the comments from Gradicus. "I found these clothes in the closet, so I wouldn't be wearing my evening gown from last night. I was not expecting a sleep-over to train with Olsen. But you are right in the fact that I do not possess much from Atlantis; in all my years I've never been there. All I have are a few tokens that have been passed down from my mother to me when I was just a child, remembrances from a land that up to recently I could only dream of. I am excited to actually see our actual homelands, even if it is just a quick run in and out."

 

[Sherwood]

"Lord Brazamal..." he said with a grin on his face as he entered the dining room, "... I come bearing great news. My contact was able to locate a vessel large enough to accommodate the group you have tasked with rescuing the slaves. It was not cheap by any stretch of the imagination as we still are not sure how long it will take. The other caveat is that we are responsible for any damage that may come of the ship..." he looked around for the cyborg but did not see him, "...I believe our cyborg 'friend'..." Trent used the term VERY skeptically, "... will be able to handle that I presume?"

With this news, Brazamal applauds. "Excellent! I knew that it was a good idea to have you along on this. When do you plan on departing?"

"Gratitude to your blessed chefs for serving us once again. How did you fare in the dreamlands of dragons, Elder? It seemed more than snows weighed down your heart last eve." It was not an idle question; he really wanted to know.

Still smiling, Brazamal turns to Gradicus. "I rested well enough, but yes, I am troubled. There is much talk of full scale war between the various city-states of the Federation of Magic, including New Lazlo, and the Coalition. Last night's dinner was the first evening that I have not spent in meetings with the other city elders long into the night, trying to find solutions on how to save the lives of a great many people."

This is direct confirmation for many of you to hear that there is trouble on the horizon between the Coalition and the Magic Zone, and for some it may be the first that you have heard this. Either way, it is not good news.

Then the smell of bacon greeted him. "That scent," he sniffed the delicious scent of fresh, crisp bacon in the dining room air. "What is that?" His question was not aimed at anyone in particular, but simply his thoughts given voice.

Olsen answers the idle question with a simple phrase: "Bacon and coffee, two of the greatest food items known across the multiverse. Without these, life has no meaning, no color and no hope of eternal salvation. If you have not had either before, take a moment to brace yourself. Once you have had a steaming cup of java and a few slices of crisp bacon, you cannot ever go back to a life without them."

Brazamal lets out a deep laugh. "Do not take his warning to heart; bacon and coffee are good, but not that good that it will addict you for life. Please, have a seat and enjoy a good, hot meal. It may not be snowing anymore, but the temperature is certainly still quite low."