Forum    Search    FAQ

Board index » RPG Forums » Guided RPG




Post new topic  Reply to topic  [ 64 posts ] 
 
Author Message
 Post Posted: Mon Dec 02, 2013 10:24 pm 
Evil Game Minister of DOOM!
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Fri Apr 26, 2002 12:00 am
Posts: 3848
AOL: Draco+Ignifer
Location: Earth to earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Illusions to illusions. And dreams to dreams.
The town of Hope was a relatively small, sleepy burg before the war. It was an old trading hub formed during the pioneering era, acting as a waypoint for those heading to the mountains to seek their fortune. Though its days as a hub had long since ended, the town itself had never quite dried up. When the war came, nobody cared about the little town, and Hope and its people lived on through the fires. But the poisonous dust from the nearby crater, the desperate refugees from the devastated city nearby, and the despair of the war itself tore away at Hope, until in the end, the little town couldn't keep going. Hope was abandoned, resident by resident, until in the end, only a few stubborn souls remained. With their passing, the sleepy little town breathed its last.

New Hope, on the other hand, is a bustling village unlike anything seen since the prospectors stopped their travels. At the very edge of the territory controlled by the Emir, the control is only nominal, as the tribes know holding it would leave them over-extended. It's far enough from the badlands that the terrain is hospitable enough to support life, but close enough that it now serves as a useful stop on the way to the Silicate Valley, for those interested in trading for their miraculous weapons and devices. More importantly, it serves as a refuge from those unsatisfied with the three harsh regions it's caught between - members of the warring tribes who are sick of self-imposed isolation and bloodshed, bandits who've washed their hands of violence and sought the chance to earn their bread, and Emirate tribesmen who want more from the world than the Emir offers. Though few in number, these refugees have trickled in over time, and while New Hope will probably never be a power in the Bounded Fields, it has grown large enough that some come there not simply to rest their tired feet, or to get away from the life they've left behind, but for opportunity.

One such set of opportunists are the men and women who call themselves the Locksmiths. Originally a loose group of disgruntled traders and merchants tired of dealing with Dustford's tight grip on the trading markets, their role in breaking the water monopoly served to catapult them into a more powerful role. Though they were never able to accomplish the breaking of the Key, the goal which inspired their name, they have become a relatively powerful player in the diaspora that makes up the Bounded Fields. Catering primarily to merchants and caravaneers, they are not the only mercantile association in the Fields, bur certainly the most powerful.Although centered in Los Indios, they are one of the few organizations that still maintains a presence throughout the Fields - or, at least, the majority of them. Those who enjoy their membership have access to their trading depots, lodges, and banks. More importantly, they are permitted to carry their Lock-and-broken-keys seal, and to call themselves a Locksmith.

Anyone who lies, cheats, steals, breaks a contract, or otherwise tarnishes the Locksmiths faces heavy sanctions. A caravaneer who wears the Locksmith seal and fails to defend the caravan she guards must make reparations to the suffering merchant, or to those who survive him should her failure have lead to his death. Too many failures, or a grievous enough one, and the former Locksmith will be expelled. Those who have been expelled may no longer carry the seal; those who persist nonetheless are punished harshly. Nominally, this means full cooperation with all authorities in punishment of the betrayer, refusal to trade or offer succor, seizing of assets within the Locksmith banks, pressure on unaffiliated merchants to cut ties with the offending party, and any other method the Locksmiths can come up with to hinder and harass their former member. Practically, it's open knowledge that those who fraudulently carry their seal will simply disappear on the broken roads from one town to the next whenever the Locksmiths can manage it. Thus, when you trade with a Locksmith, you have a guarantee - you're either getting what you agreed to (if not exactly what you thought you agreed to), or they're getting what's coming to them. This is not to say that the Locksmiths are trusted - trust is a rare coin these days. But their emblem serves its namesake - it opens doors which would otherwise be closed, and to many, that's enough.

Yet, as an organization born on the Eastern Shore, the West is rough territory for them. The Silicate tribes offer mocking laughter at their promises, the Hidden Valley wants everything they offer but pays in gunfire instead of keys, and the Emir looks coldly on their gaudy seal and threat of a challenge it represents. The harsh terrain of the West remains a jammed lock, too stubborn to open and reveal the riches within. New Hope, however, has always been different than the three regions which surround it, and true to its name, it has become the hope of the Locksmiths for finally prying their way into the West. Though their outpost in New Hope is still small, there are great plans for it, and even this little outpost still carries the Locksmith's promises.

Which of these promises beckons to the six men who now stand outside New Hope's Locksmith depot, waiting for the arrival of the caravan due from the Silicate Vale early this morning? Perhaps for some, it's the simplest of these promises - that the Locksmiths pay good Key for good labor, and have offered a week's provisions and 200 Keys to anyone willing to make the next leg of the trek with it. Maybe it's the promise that, perhaps one day, the golden lock-and-broken-keys seal will be his to wear. Perhaps it's the promise of traveling companions - that others will be with you as you cross the Bounded Fields, who won't leave you in the dust if only for fear of what will happen when the Locksmiths find their promise broken. Or, perhaps, it may be a vaguer promise yet - the promise of adventure. Whatever the promise, they find themselves here - the Merchant, the Scientist, the Wanderer, the Historian, the Doctor, and the Hunter - at the crossroads of Hope and Opportunity.

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 1:37 am 
Moderator of DOOM!
Moderator of DOOM!
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Thu May 30, 2002 12:00 am
Posts: 14071
Location: Yes.
One of the men considers the road for a moment; musing to himself that a thousand years ago it was an animal trail spotted with dung, and today it is an animal trail spotted with dung. Still, the great nation that lived between those two points did widen the trail; so that's something. Turning to another thought he addresses the folks standing near him.

"The weather has been good, the road is dry, and bandits are supposed to be thin on the ground right now. They should be here more or less on time, unless they can find another reason to be late."

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 2:48 am 
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Wed May 15, 2002 12:00 am
Posts: 9779
"If the bandits are thin on the ground, wouldn't that make it easier for them to ambush?" asked Peter. "Especially if there's long grass to hide in. They could just be lying there..." Peter abruptly dropped flat on his stomach to demonstrate "and then wait until the caravan got close and JUMP out..." Peter leapt suddenly to his feet "...and charge in and attack! And then..."

Peter stops for a moment, as a thought strikes.

"Oh no! If the caravan never comes, would we all be stuck here waiting FOREVER?"

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 1:32 pm 
Moderator of DOOM!
Moderator of DOOM!
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Thu May 30, 2002 12:00 am
Posts: 14071
Location: Yes.
Chip blinks, then replies "No, there will be others." A beat, then he continues: "I'm sorry, I spoke badly. When I said 'thin on the ground', I meant there are very few of them working near here right now. So a bandit attack against the caravan is not very likely."

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 10:30 pm 
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Wed May 15, 2002 12:00 am
Posts: 9779
"Ooooooh! Good."

Peter peered down the road, looking for any sign of anyone approaching, hopping from one foot to the other.

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Wed Dec 04, 2013 8:05 am 
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Mon Sep 09, 2002 12:00 am
Posts: 3580
Website: http://wtf.animeblogger.net
AOL: JaredTosanu
Location: The ultimate evil, with hot and cold running water!
Another of the figures is crouched over a beat up suitcase that he carries. It is open, slightly, and he is poking around inside it.

After a few minutes, the absent minded humming ends in a worried note. "No wait, that doesn't add up. I still had enough from that job in the last tow- oh right, that clicking thing. Well, im out, then."

As he straightens up, he can be observed to be rather tall. He turns to the others and, with a sheepish expression, asks. "Um, does anyone know if the food offered for this job is being offered DURING this job?"

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Wed Dec 04, 2013 11:11 pm 
Gatekeeper of Niftiness
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Sat Feb 09, 2008 12:16 am
Posts: 7654
Location: Praise be to the sticky elastic bands of the Healing Gauze
"I got some trail mix and jerky if you want any," says a young man wearing a ratty old cloth bag with loose cargo pants and a canvas vest. He pulls a small bag filled with jerky and assorted nuts out of one of the pockets in his vest and tosses it to the hungry guy. "If you're hungry I can split it with you to tide you over until they give us our rations. My name's Adrian, by the way."

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 12:50 pm 
Evil Game Minister of DOOM!
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Tue Apr 16, 2002 12:00 am
Posts: 16304
Website: http://www.facebook.com/Jos.Flanagan
AOL: FritzFrosch85
Location: Up on the hill, down by the river.
A young man stays off to the side, in the shadow of a livery building. He has good reason, too, being alternately acne scarred and sunburned. He isn't poorly dressed, and the cut and style of his clothes mark him as a member of a Silicate Valley tribe. He stands up and pushes a pair of goggle-like glasses up his nose.

"What's the hold up here, anyway?"

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Wed Dec 11, 2013 8:50 pm 
Moderator of DOOM!
Moderator of DOOM!
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Thu May 30, 2002 12:00 am
Posts: 14071
Location: Yes.
Chip shrugs. "The last time I saw a pack animal in a hurry there were wolves around. So long as they get here by mid day, they won't be doing too badly."

After a second he adds "But if we don't see them in the next half hour or so, I'm going back inside for a mug of tea."

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2013 2:32 am 
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Wed May 15, 2002 12:00 am
Posts: 9779
"Mid-day?" says Peter. "Oh no, that's forever!" He hops up and down, peering at the horizon. "Did you know, I heard that in the east, there's places where food just grows? Just like that, out of the ground! Like grass, only not quite, because eating grass really doesn't work, not matter how you cook it. I'm going to have a flour tree and a sugar bush."

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2013 2:13 pm 
Evil Game Minister of DOOM!
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Fri Apr 26, 2002 12:00 am
Posts: 3848
AOL: Draco+Ignifer
Location: Earth to earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Illusions to illusions. And dreams to dreams.
As the six grouse, the low rumble of wheels grinding over dirt can be heard. A dusty but unperturbed pair of oxen pull what was once a trailer for a motor vehicle re-purposed into a makeshift cart, filled with a number of sturdy metal trunks and a cloth sack. Beside it, a quartet of exhausted-looking men walk, weapons holstered but obvious. All of them look distinctly worse for wear - holes very unlike the standard trail wear and tear adorn their clothing, and each of them wears bandages.

As they reach the Depot, three head in immediately, while the evident leader - a short man with a thick beard and a Locksmith emblem embroidered into his leather coat - gives a broad wave. Forcing his face into a smile, he heads over to them, hand outstretched to firmly shake the first other hand it finds.

"Hey there! Sorry to keep ya waiting - got too close to the badlands and had a run-in with some o' Ronaldo's boys. Managed to scare 'em away, though. Should be smooth sailing from here on out - just make sure not to get the Emirate in a tizzy and you should be in Horseshoe Meadow in unner a week. Food's in the sack, keys on delivery."

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Fri Dec 13, 2013 1:28 am 
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Wed May 15, 2002 12:00 am
Posts: 9779
"Hello hello hello!" Peter grabs the leader's hand and shakes it vigorously. "My name's Peter, what's your names? You look like you got in a fight, are you all okay? I'm glad you're here, waiting is really boring!"

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Fri Dec 13, 2013 2:32 am 
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Sun Jun 03, 2012 12:45 am
Posts: 255
Location: Tejas
A thin dirty...girl(?) raises up from her position on the floor next to Adrian, raising up onto her hands and feet in a crouching position. She takes a moment to scratch the back of her head with a very awkwardly bent foot, before rising completely to her feet. "Key man," Cafka says while tugging at Adrian's sleeve. "Are we really working with the puppy man?" She points a finger with surprisingly sharp nails at Peter. As the caravan arrives, Cafka gets back down on her haunches, and sniffs the air. She growls slightly, staring at the holes, and tears, and bandages in the clothing of the travelers. "Who Ronaldo?" She says to the man shaking Peter's hand. "What he...does he smell like?" Her eyes flicker towards Adrian for a moment, to check yet again if she had spoken properly.

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Sun Dec 15, 2013 10:40 pm 
Moderator of DOOM!
Moderator of DOOM!
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Thu May 30, 2002 12:00 am
Posts: 14071
Location: Yes.
Suspecting that the leader is distracted for the moment, Chip addresses the girl: "Ronaldo is the leader of a lot of bandits. He's a smart man, and a hard one. I doubt he ever washes, so he probably smells like...hmm...meat eating, old sweat, sex, and horses."

Top 
   
 Post Posted: Mon Dec 16, 2013 1:49 am 
Evil Game Minister of DOOM!
User avatar
Offline
Joined: Fri Apr 26, 2002 12:00 am
Posts: 3848
AOL: Draco+Ignifer
Location: Earth to earth. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Illusions to illusions. And dreams to dreams.
The bearded fellow returns Peter's shake, and smiles warmly - although the smile cools a bit when Peter mentions being bored. "Howdy there, Peter - I'm Robert, but ya can call me Bob. Hope you weren't bored too badly. Had a bit of a fight, yeah - got woke up by bein' shot at, but they've got no grit when ya start shootin' 'em back. Erryone should be fine once the doc takes a look at 'em."

Top 
   
Display posts from previous:  Sort by  
 
Post new topic  Reply to topic  [ 64 posts ] 

Board index » RPG Forums » Guided RPG


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest

 
 

 
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot post attachments in this forum

Search for:
Jump to:  
cron