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Highwaymen

Pat

Three Thousand Club
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Roundbloom - A;
Ironwell - B;
Bluespruce - C;
Whitecap - D; home to the Northern Fringes Merchant Guild, home to the sheriff of Cifeiron.
Soapscar - E;
Sandcliff - F;
Redbush - G;

A single radiant gold sovereign, perhaps the first you've ever held within your possession, was the signing bonus for your recently signed contract with the Northern Fringes Merchant Guild. Shortly after you spent the very last of your coin purse acquiring the necessary carts, horses, provisions, and men, to establish the beginnings of a trade caravan here in Whitecap, your new employer, Guildmaster Coletpier, a soft spoken thin albino gentleman with shrewd violet eyes and impeccably groomed white hair and mustache, you remember vividly, had summoned you and two other prospective applicants to his office within the N.F.M.G. guildhall. As your trio was ushered in through the door by his brutish secretary, your pupils adjusted to the relative darkness of the furnished room compared to the rest of the utilitarian two story structure. "Welcome back," Coletpier rasped, audibly scratching nearly as much as transcribing a few more short sentences of a weathered, indecipherable tome lying open on his desk onto parchment paper before further bothering himself to acknowledge your presence. "I have little time for dead weight taking advantage of my altruism in this company, let alone those who cannot do something as simple as breaking even." He gestured to three gold pieces lying on his desk, "take one each, consider it my gratitude given form you are undertaking this enterprise, and return another in its place one week from now to show me you are not another of my many liabilities. Those who fail this task will receive no punishment greater than my ire so far, but should one of you succeed before your peers, I will reward you jobs to transport precious cargo I can entrust with no other in my service." With that said, he continued his impossible task of writing without ink as you and the other new merchants took their respective bonuses and left the guildhall. Now, from here, you could venture to either, or both, the local tavern and the resident marketplace, to acquire information, jobs, and goods before heading out on one of the roads. It will take one day's travel to reach the cities of Ironwell, Bluespruce, Soapscar, or Sandcliff, you know, and it will take one day more to arrive at the city of Roundbloom.


Seeing to it your crew were hidden well just outside of Whitecap, you came into the city of your birth place. From here, you could gain entry by brawn or charm into the N.F.M.G. guildhall, the local tavern, the resident marketplace, or all three of the targets, before heading out on one of the roads and rejoining your men to prepare an ambush for whatever mark is unlucky enough to cross your path. It will take one day's travel to reach the cities of Ironwell, Bluespruce, Soapscar, or Sandcliff, you know, and it will take one day more to arrive at the city of Roundbloom. At any point and turn in the road you could easily spring your trap.


Your post at the customs building was in order, that as much you could credit to your predecessor. You take a walk down the streets of your home of Whitecap. From here, you could visit the N.F.M.G. guildhall, the local tavern, the resident marketplace, or all three of the establishments before summoning your soldiers to your side and embarking down one of the roads to discipline and protect traders of the realm. It will take one day's travel to reach the cities of Ironwell, Bluespruce, Soapscar, or Sandcliff, you know, and it will take one day more to arrive at the city of Roundbloom.

A day is a turn. Ten golds equal a platinum, ten silvers equal a gold, ten coppers equal a silver. Skill checks are initiated by the player, not me, and are determined by either chance influenced by your skills or simply by having a bigger number than someone else. You have to imply you're using one of your character's skills to use them and gain more information about something, or a better deal, or a better price, ect. If you don't want someone to know where you're going when on the road, PM me your intended destination.
 
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Ooft! Well at least that was finally over! Walking into that old man's office had felt like entering the lair of some lich out of a children's story, lord Annie had met pirates less intense than that skinny wraith. Add to that the grim feeling that she'd just made a deal with a devil. Annie's eyes had gone wide like a cat's at the sight of that shiny gold piece and it had looked like all she'd been told about the perks of joining a guild would prove true. Then they'd set her on some strange quest to earn it back in a few days like some mad millionaire! And here was Annie thinking the only price they'd ask for was a monthly cut. So much for a merchant's life being one of quiet routine and nice food.

But there was that bonus job he'd mentioned if she could make it back fast and the offer of a prize could always light a fire under her heels. Besides, there was plenty of money out there looking to be made if a lass was just creative enough. That couldn't happen standing around on the street though, first Annie had some scheming to do!

"Well this has been fun, my lovelies!" Annie chirped to the other new guild grunts she'd been put through the wringer with. "But there's only one place I'm allowed to go after getting paid. Time to grab a drink!" Her new man could wait with the carts while she got down to real business.

With a cat like smile and a swaggering step Annie found her way to the nearest tavern. Whitecap may not have had the same wild charm as home but being the crossroads of the kingdom meant you could find fine drinks from all over. The pub had a pretty cosy feel about it, even the shady corners had a twee kind of feel about them. Yeah, some good hunting grounds here, now Annie was in her element.

Annie took a place at the bar and scanned the common room to take in the different tables full of groups talking business or gossip. Now it was time to make some new friends!

[Annie heads to the tavern! Uses CHARISMA to help find information and possible jobs.]
 

"Scuttlebutt has it a returning voyage, of all things from the Nothing, is due for port in Sandcliff about five days from now. Sorry bastards probably haven't eaten anything remotely palatable in months." Annabelle manages to overhear from an astonished bespectacled scholar addressing a table of his colleagues.

"I have a consignment of paintings that need to get to Redbush in four days," Annebelle turned to the new voice in her ear, seeing a man dressed to the nines in the latest fashion from Bluespruce saddling up to her side at the bar. "Six coppers for payment," he stated in a surprisingly gravelly voice for his posh appearance, "three upon acceptance of the job, three once the cargo is delivered to its intended recipient. They'll take up a whole cart of room. Somehow manage to tear any of them, and the entire payment is forfeit," he states bluntly.
 
"Six coppers?!" Annie yelp incredulously! "You couldn't buy a bag of salt at market for that kind of price!" Maybe the old saying was right and posh knobs really didn't know the price of bread.

This one was dressed up like a big spender though, the kind that didn't get to afford clothes like that without aggressively lowballing people it seemed. Well she could dance the haggling jig too.

Annie leaned on the bar, all luxurious like, and made a point to check her nails as she spoke to the toff. "You'll never get anywhere offering pay like that deary, not for taking up a whole cart for a two days trip. Why my carts are some the finest made too! Add some sails to them and I could sell them down Sandcliff docks as seaworthy vessels. Just one of them could carry me a thirty copper profit on a good day." None of that sounded too unreasonable, why Annie even made sure to lean in closer to this blue blood, flashing them a winning smile and talking up her bargain as if she was doing the man a huge favour.

"If I was you, and if these paintings are worth so much to you... well I'd swap that copper to silver, especially given the security the courier would have to buy to make sure they don't get damaged or robbed on such a long trip."

[Haggling begins! Use Charisma stat to try and push Painting Guy to up the offered pay.]
 
Aldred gazed down the streets of Whitecap. "Feels good to be home." he murmured. Ever since he was a little boy, Whitecap was his favorite city in all of Cifieron. He knew this place like the back of his hand; the guild hall, the tavern, the marketplace and even the lousy sheriff's post. Aldred wondered if Hoer was still the owner of the tavern, and the boys have been aching for a new job, so he decided to head down there with what little money he had to look around.

"Is that Aldred of Hillcrest?" a deep voice boomed as Aldred entered the common room. It was Hoer, the owner, and he didn't look a day older than when Aldred last saw him. Aldred approached the bar quickly to shake hands with his giant colleague. "The bandit lord himself," Hoer said under his breath, "Good to see ya, Allie."
"I told you not to call me that, you oaf." Aldred joked. He took a seat at the counter as Hoer grabbed a cleaning cloth and a glass.
"So, what can I do for ya?"
"The boys are longing for a job, Hoer, and you seem to be at the tail end of all the gossip in town. So, I want you to let me know if you have anything juicy for me to bite into."
Hoer looked around the room to make sure nobody was paying attention. His staff where up and about serving drinks to merry customers. He leaned in closer to his old friend and Aldred did the same, awaiting his answer.

[Aldred heads to the tavern and uses CHARISMA to find anyone who seeks protection or some shady business dealt with.]
 
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With a fresh day, Lothar left his post with his uniform and weapons. It seemed to be a nice, pleasant day as business was going as usual in the city. Regardless, it was his duty to make sure that this continued. He had his rounds to make. But, he was a true believer of winning over hearts and minds and finding mutual benefit with others. Thus, he would head to the guild hall, the tavern, and the marketplace in that order before he met up with his men and set off to patrol the roads.
 

The man that had propositioned Annebelle looked as if he was on the verge of outright refusal and storming off in the hopes of finding a merchant more agreeable to his terms for a brief moment. Surprisingly, he begrudgingly concedes, but with an abridged schedule. "Six silvers in total then, on the further condition that the paintings arrive a day earlier. No more haggling, take it or leave it. If you're interested, you can find them out back. When you arrive in Redbush, simply wait for my benefactor to approach you for the shipment." He waits to hand her the three silver pieces upon acceptance, as promised.


Hoer served Aldred a drink on the house first before getting down to business. With a little plying down various paths of conversation in a search for a promising score, the bandit managed to coax an intriguing job out of the bartender. "My contact in the N.F.M.G. says they're looking for a crew that doesn't ask questions to help guard a warehouse they own here in town for three hours. They didn't mention what the pay was, but I have it on good authority that they never forget debts, be it their own, or someone else's."

Not much later, a particularly attractive woman of modest dress, perhaps befitting a status of minor nobility, approached Aldred with a strange request. "A merchant, Berteram, has stolen a family heirloom of mine, a silver amulet inlaid with a brilliantly cut and polished sapphire. Kill him, do what you will with the rest of his men and cargo, and bring the amulet back to me for your reward," she held up a singular gold piece to his eye briefly before vanishing it into the pockets of her clothes. "I possess neither his whereabouts nor an identifying mark of his besides the trophy he has wrongfully taken, but I do know this; he will never be found in Whitecap for his fear of me and my kin's retribution for his thievery so long as he breathes."


The guildhall was a squat two story building. The few armored sellsword guards and uniformed employees milling about, initially hesitant to allow Lothar entry, relented when pressed. As the sheriff looked around the threadbare interior stocked with crates, littered with bunkbeds, and adorned with the N.F.M.G.'s initials and insignia, for but a moment an indescribably chilling sensation washed over him like a wave, freezing his blood to ice in his veins. An immediate inspection of the premises would undoubtedly gain Lothar the ire of the company, but perhaps it would gain him a clearer picture than he might otherwise find by playing his cards close to his chest and seeking out an audience with Guildmaster Coletpier on the second floor for any indication of an explanation he could find.
 
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Aldred was about to answer Hoer about the warehouse job when the pretty lass approached him, she clearly overheard the two. He scoffed before continuing with Hoer. He was definitely interested in her request, but was more interested in the gold piece she hid in her pocket. Aldred was quick on his feet and light with his hands, he knew how he would get that coin. Just as the young lady turned to leave, Aldred lunged at her, grabbing her shoulder to spin her around with one hand and with the other reaching into her pocket to find the gold piece. "You have a good eye for fashion, milady," He said as the two locked eyes, "And a good eye for a man who will get the job done. Give me your word that that gold piece is mine and I'll have Bertram's head at your doorstep within the week." Aldred gave the girl a smile as he backed away, attempting to secure the coin within the palm of his hand.

[Aldred takes the ladies job and uses SUBTERFUGE to steal a gold coin from her pocket.]
 
Lothar had a hunch... and if there was anything that he learned, then it was to never ignore his guts. There was something going on in the guildhall, but for now he sought out Guildmaster Coletpier. He would continue to make his way to the second floor without missing a beat. When he gained audience, he would make it very clear that Lothar knew was something up by saying "A little bird told me that I would find something interesting here today, Guildmaster. And, you know, I didn't really expect anything until I walked in. Now, if there's one thing I learned about this job, then it's to never ignore what your gut is telling you. My gut is telling me that there's something going on here. Now, I like to make each of our lives easier, Guildmaster. You scratch my back, and I scratch yours. So, is there anything that you would like to tell me?" (Charisma Roll/Check please and a subsequent perception check to see if he lies or is trying to be deceitful with his response.)
 
"That's a deal you've got right there!" Annie cheered, grabbing the peacock looking fella's hand and giving it a hearty old shake. "Annie Noven, at your service! So who's this benefactor of yours, what name do I go asking for?" Of course Annie was also pocketing the offered three silver coins in one motion all while she was asking this. And just like that she was a step closer to winning that gold piece!

Once all that business was sorted Annie stepped out to collect that bundle of paintings and have them stored away in one of the carts she'd managed to scrape enough funds together for, along with giving some bloody strict orders to her man to guard them like a hawk. The old blighter - Ogden - was a balding old sea dog with a barrel for a gut, but it was one that hid a fair share of muscle under the flab and he sported a pair of thick arms that could throw a mean punch, if not a well trained one. Annie had found Ogden trudging the harbours of Sandcliff looking for work, apparently he'd gotten on the wrong side of too many ship captains and she could offer him more than the handful of coppers he got paid for hauling barrels. He was a miserable old dog but he could drive a cart and looked mean enough to keep the skinnier knackers off of their case.

It was after making sure he was seen to Annie made her way to the market square and was thinking to herself that maybe she could flash some of these new silvers to hire a couple land loving goons as well just to make sure these paintings arrived in Redbush in good shape. Her mind was whirling around a lot right now, flush with cash and the kind of possibilities it brought. She'd gone over the trade maps and pondered over the best route for her courier job and the possible profits she could make along the way. The question was did she take the short route and play it safer or the long road around, maybe arriving back in Sandcliff just in time to capitalise on that expedition she'd heard tell of in the pub.

After mulling it over Annie decided to let the price of bread help her make that choice, so to speak, as she took to prowling between the market stalls and taking in all the prices and sales pitches. Each new stop she took her time to look over what was on offer and to just enjoy the manic energy of the place on a busy day, letting the noise wash over her.

[Annie heads to the market. Use PERCEPTION to help pick up on any new prices or goods for sale.]
 

Aldred managed to just barely swipe the gold sovereign from the coin purse of his victim. Unfazed by his actions and unwise to his ploy, she quickly stepped away with surprising force for a lady of her demure stature. "So long as you make him suffer," she spoke, smiling sickeningly sweetly before going out the tavern door.


As Lothar walked up the steps to the second floor offices of the guildhall, the temperature steadily lowered with every foot traversed until he could see his own breath in every exhale. The heavyset secretary momentarily blocking his advance at the door to the executive's room, appeared entirely unaware and unaffected by the anomaly. Eventually, he was allowed past and the heat of the building suddenly returned to normal. Guildmaster Coletpier, he presumed as he opened the door, stood at the far end of the room, looking out onto the streets below through a small heavily tinted window. The office was decorated, yes, with various curios, but nothing extraordinarily lavish as one would expect. The most visible oddities in the room, if they could be called that, were a meticulously cleaned floor and a plain white tome, damaged by time, laid open flat on its bindings on the desk. With Lothar's words, the albino man visibly tensed in anger. "The intuition of your entrails," Guildmaster Coletpier replied tersely, "is wrong." He turned from the defrosting glass to gaze accusingly at Lothar, sweeping his spindly arms around the room in a grand encompassing gesture. "This is an honest business, Sheriff, something I expect your kind wouldn't understand. Your recent precursor had the same impression, I'm afraid. I had hoped he would have come to accept what was best for him, but perhaps I should have appreciated his irreconcilable hostility to your own confident parasitism while it lasted."


"They'll find you. Rest assured." The man spoke, taking his leave. The paintings, once Annebelle laid eyes on them, were ugly and the most abstract art she had ever saw. They looked as if someone just threw dye at canvas and called it a job well-done. But yet again, she wasn't an artist nor a collector herself. When she made it to the marketplace, she discovered... Salt was worth fifteen coppers, up from a base price of ten coppers. There were seventeen units available. Spice was worth seventeen coppers, up from a base price of fifteen coppers. There were twenty units available. Sugar was worth nineteen coppers, down from a base price of twenty coppers. There were twelve units available. Fish was worth four coppers, down from a base price of five coppers. There were nine units available. Bread was worth nineteen coppers, down from a base price of twenty coppers. There were sixteen units available.
 
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