Neonir
Posts: 118
8/3/2016
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A notice, of sorts, left nailed to a wall in wolfstack docks.
"Help wanted."
It's wording is to the point and clear.
"Pre-Requisites: Experience at zee. Sturdy eyewear."
Following this statement, appears to be a sketch. To most it would appear as an indiscernible mass. To those who had actually listened to any of the innumerable tales and descriptions, it would appear to be a rather detailed sketch of a rather infamous spider council.
"The Tree has been sighted North. We hunt for it's heart."
No compensation or salery is listed on the flyer. Simply a time and date at which to arrive at a particular indistinct pier to the south of london.
One final note is added at the bottom in Post Scriptum:
"This will be extraordinarily dangerous. Caution is advised."
Those who follow the instructions on the notice will arrive to an otherwise unoccupied pier, full to burst with nothing but fog and darkness. In the early hours of the morning, the only light radiates from false stars above and the large boat floating quietly at the end of the boardwalk.
edited by Neonir on 8/3/2016
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http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Lord%20Gregory
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Kukapetal
Posts: 1449
8/5/2016
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Flesh-Stick: I CAN BE THE BAIT. I'M LOUD AND COLORFUL!
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Kukapetal
Posts: 1449
8/7/2016
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Flesh-Stick: AMELIA WAS PROBABLY MAKING FUN OF YOU, LORD GREGORY. SHE DOES THAT A LOT.
ANYWAY, FLESH-STICK AT YOUR SERVICE! NOW LETS GO GET THAT GREAT WHITE WHALE!
*he pumps your hand vigorously before charging up the gangplank with nothing but the clothes he's wearing. Hope somebody brought a spare toothbrush*
edited by Kukapetal on 8/7/2016
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Ira _____
Posts: 5
8/17/2016
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[(OOC) Hey! So this is my first time ever being on one of these and I only just noticed this thread, but it looks exactly like my cup of dangerously brewed tea. I hope the captain doesn't mind me stowing away on the ship! And if he does then my character can swim excellently and this will only be his third or forth time being thrown overboard]
As everyone gathers around the bridge as a voice speaks up from the shadows.
"Cough Cough".
A man seeming to appear out of thin air steps forward and bows. He's a frail looking man, not from his lack of physicality, but more from the seven bleeding scars which adorn his body - weakly wrapped in soaked through bandages. His eyes dart from person to person, almost as if recalling distant memories.
He then starts packing away some sort of purplish robe into an abusrdly large pack filled with dozens of articles of clothing, weapons, books, and - from the sounds of it - animals. While being closely followed by a Goat floating approximately 13 inches off of the ground.
"Hello! I doubt any of you remember me! I'm um, Bentley! Yes, Bentley K. At your service."
Several people look confused, and one man(?) draws a knife on him.
"Allow me to explain. I am a Canon of St. Joshua. Just before I came on board I had performed a rite with some individual whose existence I have since forgotten (Irrigo is terrible stuff). And I had absolutely no time to change before the time of the boat's supposed departure! I introduced myself already and was given the go-ahead to come aboard before any of you took your eyes off me and promptly forgot my existence (Irrigo remains terrible stuff). I have been out to zee MANY times! And I'm terribly intrigued by the concept of this tree spider beast. Hopefully the Dean and I will be able to adequetely pull the secrets from it's teeth before the removal of it's um. Heart."
"BAAAH"
"What? Oh yes you." Bentley released a tired sigh and gestured to the floating hell-goat. "This here is um. Goaty McGoatface."
"BAAAAH BA BAAAAH!!!" The entire boat shakes as the primial fury of the Goat's terrible nickname is unleashed.
"NO I am not saying your actual name! It's 24 characters in Correspondence and the first THREE set fire to my fiance, last time. You just get to deal with this until we can come up with a better name for you."
"BAH?"
"(Well yes of course we are. What you think we aren't coming out of here without something remarkable? I mean already I can tell a few have some pretty good nuggets. Especially that one with the HUNGRY look.)" He whispers to the Goat in clenched teeth while gesturing to Pink
"BAH."
"I what?"
Looking up he noticed he just said everything outloud to a group of very dangerous looking people currently embarking on a suicide mission.
"I swear this went better the six times before I took off the robe."
edited by Mr. Tiger on 8/17/2016
edited by Mr. Tiger on 8/17/2016
edited by Mr. Tiger on 8/17/2016
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A Dimness
Posts: 613
8/5/2016
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"Well, look at that. More fools on a fool's errand to get themselves killed!" The Mirthless Colonist briefly entertains the thought of zailing far across the unterzee to challenge an ancient council made of spider-spires. Only briefly. The night is damp and cold and at his arm is a lovely bandaged lady, at worst lukewarm or maybe tepid. No, the Mirthless Colonist was too old for these kinds of suicidal excursions, and after his visit to the Nativity, he didn't even consider the sorrow spiders to be particularly evil. The bandaged gentleman walks off into the night with his lively partner.
B____y hell!
Just how much absinthe did he drink last night!? You'd think that being half-dead would make you resistant to getting drunk! Why is it so damp here? Where is here!? A crammed cabin, an Infernal Sharpshooting Rifle leans against a bunk and a particularly Devilish-looking Fedora rests on his head. He quickly produces his Ratwork Watch. Oh dear.
Well, nothing left to do but check in with the captain.
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A truth so strange it can only be lied into existence
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Neonir
Posts: 118
8/7/2016
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Gregory nods as Amelia leaves, somewhat puzzled, "Very well, safe Travels Amelia...always a pleasure...I think?" Gregory turns to the next person in line, shakes his head and mumbles "You know, sometimes I have to say, I haven't the foggiest clue what on earth she is talking about..."
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http://fallenlondon.storynexus.com/Profile/Lord%20Gregory
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Shadowcthuhlu
Posts: 1557
8/3/2016
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"Do you have everything packed?"
"Yes dear."
"Including a good coat if you go far North?"
"Yes dear."
"Are you sure you don't need anymore knives or guns?"
"Yes dear."
"Enough boots, gloves?"
"Yes dear."
A moment of silence and the shuffling of luggage.
"I should come with you." The statement and responses sound old, performed many times before this moment.
"With that man? No."
"So you are just going to leave me here?"
"London needs somebody to hunt snakes and spies while I'm gone."
A resigned but still loving glare.
"My evening rose, it is merely a spider-council. You can hunt those in this sleep. There is far more danger from us drinking and falling off the boat then from that."
A mollified silence.
"Send a bat when you can."
"I will."
One of the figures slips away in the fog and darkness. The other one hoists up their luggage, including a cage of bats. (More for the bats safety then an actual worry about them escaping.)
Dirae Erinyes regards the boat with a critical eye. "Well, I've ridden in worse tramp steamers."
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https://www.fallenlondon.com/profile/Dirae%20Erinyes. Closed to calling cards, but open for all other social action. I also love to roleplay.
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