Briar wanted out of the building, specifically he wanted out of the building without being burned to a crisp or having his ribs rammed forcibly through his lungs. The specifics were always what made things difficult.
"Briar..." Robert asked again from beside him, cautious and insistent at the same time.
"Out with whatever terrible idea you have." "A rope." Briar answered after a moment to check his mental calculations.
"We can't go down the stairs, dropping from this height could kill us or shatter bones and leave us crippled within spitting distance of a burning building. We need to shorten the drop, even our odds." Robert nodded as the building groaned.
"Bedsheets, nobody will have taken the time to lock their rooms back up. C'mon!" He called as he muscled his way back out of the mass of fearstruck students that crowded the stairwell.
[Building Structure [Threshold 50] 6 (margin 44: Complete success)]
Robert and Briar ducked into the first open room they could find, looting the pair of beds within for their blankets and sheets and hastily knotting them together. [Knowledge roll hidden] It's been awhile since either of them has done this kind of thing but Briar is fairly certain that the knots should hold, which gives them a twenty foot rope of knotted blankets, sheets, and pillowcases. As long as one of them can find an anchor for it this should let him and Robert get down without killing themselves.
Granted there's a lot of 'should' coming off this plan.
((20' of improvised rope added))
Location: Miskatonic Dormitory, third floor.
Status Affects: Painkillers (9) Health: 40/40
Sanity: 70/70
Head: Reading glasses (No spots)
Body: Black Houseshirt (No spots)
Legs: Black pants (4 Small)
Feet: Brown Shoes (No Spots)
L. Hand: Strange Tome (Needs medium spot, 2 pounds, can be read)
R. Hand: 20' of improvised rope (3 lbs)
Other Worn items:
Wristwatch
Carried Weight: 6/35
Available Spots: 2 Small
Inv:
Painkillers (9 doses, in pants pocket)
Wallet ($50 in small bills, in pants pocket)
The third floor of the building is smoky but not dangerously so yet. You're in a random room on the east side of the building.
Robert Denver (Close Friend) is here.
There are many panicked people nearby.
The building is on fire and is structurally unsound.
Loose Items,
(Unsearched)
Closed Containers,
None
---~~~---
Clayton needed to hurry, the Dorms were well constructed pieces of old craftsmanship, but fire could destroy the building and everyone in it within minutes.
And so Clayton ran, hefting the heavy fire extinguisher and running through the library, hurtling through the double doors and sprinting across the campus green. [Athletics 100 (Margin -120 Ow. Utter Failure.)] (30 non-lethal damage taken) Clay's greatcoat flaped out behind him, dragging him back like a weight even as the heavy extinguisher in his arm tried to tip him forwards into the earth. Not in the best shape for a man approaching his middle age Clay's legs burned and he sucked air as he ran for the Miskatonic dorms, chilling his lungs and making spots dance across his vision. He can't stop now, not for discomfort, not for pain. Not when stopping and soothing his body would come at such a high price.
Panting and wheezing Clayton charged the dorms from the side opposite the road -the side least engulfed in flames-, using his precarious momentum to heft the fire extinguisher like a battering ram and slam it into the wooden door with all his might. [Melee 23-20-20 (Margin 8: Bare success)] The door shakes with the impact and cracks, splitting away from the frame. Another solid blow from the professor knocks the deadbolt out of the door and swings the door open wide, silhouetting his bent and gasping form against the flames within.
And they say teachers lead boring lives.
Location: SW entrance to the Dorms
Status Affects: None
Health: 50/50 (30 non-lethal damage taken -fatigue-)
Sanity: 50/50
Head: Hair (No spots)
Body: Dress shirt (1 V.Small), Greatcoat (2 medium, 4 small, 4 V.Small, 2 pounds)
Legs: Brown slacks (2 Small)
Feet: Brown Shoes (No Spots)
L. Hand: Brass fire extinguisher (35/35 40lbs)
R. Hand: Brass fire extinguisher (35/35 40lbs)
Other Worn items:
Wedding Band
Carried Weight: 42/35 (Encumbered)
Available Spots: 3 Very Small, 5 Small, 2 medium, both hands
Inv:
Silver Pocket Watch (V.Small Coat pocket)
Pen (V.Small Dress shirt pocket)
Wallet (Small, slacks pocket, contains $100 in small bills)
You're standing in front of the SW entrance to the dorms, the lock on the door has been broken off. The NE, E, W parts of the building are completely in flame, the SE and NW are partially in flame, the SW is only slightly on fire.
There is a lot of smoke inside the building.
---~~~---
David was never one to let a source of information go before he was done with it, he had a name, but he could still get a little more. [Gather information 12 (Margin 38: Complete Success.)]
"I'm sorry to hear that, she was... special." He said simply to Angie, taking another sip of his drink. It might not strictly be part of his job but he was relishing this illegal libation.
The woman smiled sadly and nodded, unconsciously knotting her fingers in her lap.
"She... Yes she was." David raised glass in silent toast, taking a token sip before speaking again.
"But then again most of the women who work here are, aren't they?" The woman quirked an eyebrow, a ghost of a real smile touching the edge of her mouth.
"You're sweet, but sweet words don't get discounts." She replied with a trace of her former humor.
"No I mean it, it takes... a strength, a kind of will to make the decision to survive here." David gestured expansively at the rest of the room.
"Most people don't approve of this, they think it's the sort of thing hidden in back alleys, but you set that aside and became something else... an object of desire and envy." Her frown twisted wryly, her expression reflecting a darker humor.
"Thank you, but it still made me an object." She shook her head bitterly and took another drink, draining her glass this time.
"To have a choice there has to be a second option, for me... there really wasn't. It was this or starve. Perhaps it would have been better that way." She added softly.
David motioned the barman to refill Angie's glass, liquor did wonders to bring down someone's defenses a few notches and this woman had built them high.
"Life is precious, you did what you had to do and that's all anyone can ever hope to do." He said, taking the refilled glass from the barman and handing it back to her.
"To expect more isn't good for you." Angie accepted the glass gratefully and took another drink, staring at a fixed point on the counter before bringing her eyes up to meet David's.
"You're not here to buy are you?" She asked softly, a note of something approaching wonderment entering her voice.
David thought about how to answer that for a moment, weighing the options in his head. Finally he smiled and put his hand on top of hers.
"No," he said
"no I'm not. I am looking for an entertainer, the one you called moon, but not for the reasons I said." Angie said nothing for a moment, caution and disbelief at war with something else inside her.
"I want out." She said finally, red rimming the edges of her eyes.
"Out of this place, out of this city, just out. Please, do it and I'll tell you everything you want to know." She bit her lip and gave a quick look to the bouncers.
"Meet me outside, take the side exit out into the clothing store, then use the backdoor to get out into the alley."Location: Inside the Dancing Saint, The Bar.
Status Affects: None
Health: Base 50/50
Sanity: Base 45/45
Head: Fedora (No spots)
Body: Dress shirt (1 V.Small), Trenchcoat (2 medium, 2 small), Concealed Shoulder holster (1 small)
Legs: Black Suspenders (2 Small)
Feet: Black Shoes (No Spots)
L. Hand: Glass of excellent quality moonshine, quarter-full.
R. Hand: Empty
Other Worn items:
None
Carried Weight: 3/45
Available Spots: 1 V.Small, 2 Medium, both hands
Inv:
Pocket Watch (V.Small pants pocket)
Pen (V.Small coat pocket)
notepad (V.Small coat pocket)
Wallet (Small, pants pocket, contains $30 in small bills)
Colt detective special (6/6, Small, Shoulder holster, 2 pounds)
Loose .38 special rounds (13, small, coat pocket)
You're at the bar of the dancing saint, there are drinks ranging in price from $5 to $50 a glass up front. There are a great many people here. There are many chairs, tables, and sofas. Partitions have been erected to separate stages and the seating surrounding them from each other.
"Angie" (Callgirl, acquaintance) is here with you.
You can see several bouncers from where you are. (Observation check required for specific count)
There is an exit at the north of the building.
There is a guarded door leading up to the rentable rooms.
There is an unguarded side-door on the east side of the room.
There is a guarded door marked for employees at the south end of the room.
There is a bathroom on the west side of the room.
Loose Items
Unsearched, All have owners nearby
Closed containers
Unknown, Multiple, all have owners nearby.
---~~~---
Patric waited for a moment, his breath caught somewhere in his throat. He didn't make a lot as a bouncer, about a grand a year, but it had been steady work and nobody complained if he broke somebody's jaw in the course of his duties. Patric let out the caught breath with muffled laugh of surprise
"You know, I never managed to get a job and keep it for long, this offer sounds more like a blessing to me. Sure, I may get my hands dirty but at least I have a job that I shouldn't be able to mess up." His broad somber face curled into a grin, Life was finally starting to turn around.
"Where do I sign up?" Angelo snorted.
"You just did, welcome aboard." He finished the cigarette and ground it out beneath his heel, exhaling a final breath of smoke into the night air.
"Don't try to play your own side in things and you won't end up wrapped in carpet like the woman you just delivered. Now come on, you've still got a shift to finish." He said, straightening his suit and walking back across the street with the determined air of a man who had not just disposed of a corpse. Patric followed, still lost in thought about what this would mean. Money, protection, and a certain freedom within the law, and that was merely scratching the surface of his benefit package.
The walk back to the Dancing Saint was uneventful, the streets as quiet as a sleeping baby in the wee hours of the morning. Patric followed Angelo through the backdoor again, closing it and locking it back behind them as soon as they were inside.
"Head on up to Tragedy, he'll see to your money and the rest of your kit." Angelo said as they continued on down the hall.
"I'm getting back on the floor, make sure you finish your bloody shift." Patric nodded and split off from Angelo as they neared the entrance to the main floor, turning to walk slowly up the stairs to Tragedy's office. All he had to remember was that Tragedy wasn't insane, just a businessman with a penchant for the dramatic. Squaring his shoulders Patric prepared to knock on th-
"Get in." Tragedy's voice commanded before Patric's fist even touched wood.
Attempting not to have a minor heart failure Patric opened the door as he was asked, stepping once again into Tragedy's well furnished office.
Tragedy's mask, as always, frowned at him tragically.
"Good that you've joined the... family." Tragedy said, his voice tumbling over the words as if they were somehow secretly amusing.
"Your duties here remain unchanged, protect, or be removed. Though being fired is now more literal now that you're one of us." He added without further preamble.
Well that was probably to be expected, higher rewards and higher punishments. It shouldn't be a problem.
"As one of us you will be expected to undertake certain special tasks in addition to your current obligations, your first will be given to you tomorrow." Tragedy continued, tapping his fingers in a slow steady beat against his desk.
"Your bonus and ring is there, wear it always." He said, jerking his head to indicate a brown envelope on his desk, topped by a steel man's ring set with a dark stone.
Location: Tragedy's Office
Status Affects: None
Health: 75/75
Sanity: 55/55
Head: Hair (No spots)
Body: Cheap Suit (2 small, 1 V.Small)
Legs: Tan Slacks (2 Small)
Feet: Black Shoes (No Spots)
L. Hand: Empty
R. Hand: Empty
Other Worn items:
Wristwatch
Carried Weight: 2/55
Available Spots:
Inv:
Brass Knuckles (V.Small, Slacks pocket, 1 pound)
Wallet (Small, Slacks pocket, $50)
One exit immediately behind you.
Tragedy (Employer, Fellow Trade (Much superior),
) is here.
Loose Items,
Bulging envelope (Yours)
Trade Ring (Yours)
Unknown
Closed Containers,
Multiple, Unknown
Author
Topic: City of Madness; Arkham. Ch. 1: The Lord of Broken Song (Read 30355 times)