Season 1 - Fall

Ashlyn looked at Whitepaws after Marius had finished his speech. "We need you now that you have gotten us used to having our backs covered. What do you say Tekahionwake?" This moment felt even more meaningful than just extending a permanency offer to a new crew member. Something big was waiting for the Backwater Phantoms, the Dimmer Sisters were just the most recent signal of it. And tackling whatever came out of it would need a fully formed crew.

"I certainly appreciate having you around Whitepaw." Stev nodded towards the man. "If you agree, you'll get an equal say how the Phantoms are run. You'll also sit in on board meetings, attend company functions, and keep records of expenses and purchases for budgeting purposes." Stev smiles lopsidedly. "That last part was a joke."

moarhair wrote:

"I know we usually meet on the Well, but we're meeting here today because we wanted to have the option to drink in celebration or commiseration. Whitepaws, you've been with us for a few weeks now, and we all agree that your contributions to our success cannot be overstated. I must admit, when Ash first brought us to the fighting pits to meet you, I had my doubts, but you have quickly become a valued member of our crew. This is why we'd like to officially extend the offer of permanency. I know things are looking grim with the Fog Hounds and the Dimmer Sisters, and I want you to know there would be no hard feelings if you decide you want out. Besides," says Marius, smiling ruefully, "without your help, we might not be around long enough to hold a grudge anyway. So, would you like to officially be a Backwater Phantom?"

Tekahionwake had ordered a soft-cider. He had taken a liking to it, and since he abstained almost entirely from alcohol, this was a perfect middle ground. He listened to Marius with the same hard look on his face that he reserved for most people, but his eyebrows rose at the offer to stay on. Even if he didn't want to admit it to himself, he had grown accustomed to the idiosyncrasies of the crew. And his eye had been drawn toward Ash more than once; of course, he never acted on it. He had more discipline than that.

He nodded at Stev, and his heart skipped a beat when Ash used his Severosi name.

What was that? Pull yourself together and act the part; they want you to stay because you are a hard killer, not a first year scout-boy!

He grit his teeth, jaw hardening and nodded to her as well.

"I thank you for this offer. It is humbling and, yes, I do agree, you might all die without me." His hard face broke into a thin smile. Whitepaws had just made a joke.

"But, I must confess something about the sword I took. It... well, it calls for blood. And it gets blood one way or another. Recently, I have given into its calls and made my first kill with it. I did so without your knowledge, but a weapon this powerful has come with a terrible cost. It could bring a lot of heat onto us, but it could also be the sole reason we walk out of an otherwise unsurvivable situation. If I am to be a Phantom, you need to know this. If you revoke your offer, I would understand."

It had truly been a hard confession, but the expression on his face slowly returned to a solemn, steadfast, gaze as he awaited the group's decision.

He found himself inwardly most anxious about Ash's response.

"Oh right, the sword, I had a feeling it might be trouble." Says Ash grimacing. "We will need to get rid of it, think Nyelle might be interested in it?" She asks turning to Marius. It happens, you enter the room of an eccentric old man with your brother, take something you shouldn't that looks harmless and then you get cursed for almost a month. She learned her lesson then, but maybe not so much if they are still dealing with weird artifacts.

Marius freezes as Whitepaws told the about the sword. Such an item was dangerous, more than a layman could realize. If it sunk its teeth too deep, the Cutter could lose himself to it. But on the other hand, if it was as powerful as the Severosi hinted...

Marius looks at his sister as she weighs in. He remembers Olivia, with half her head blown off, lying in the dirt. He remembers Lucas, his stomach cut open, crying for his mother. He remembers
Erik, cut off mid sentence by an Imperial bullet, forever unable to deliver the punchline to his joke. In his mind, they all turn into Ash, and the Imperials into the Fog Hounds. He flexes his injured hand.

"Maybe we shouldn't be so hasty. If we're headed for a fight, it might be worth hanging onto it for a bit longer." He turns to look at Whitepaws. "Either way, the offer stands."

Whitepaws nodded. He had no deep connection to the sword. It would be useful if they were to take on the Fog Hounds, but after that he knew he had to let it go.

"I thank you." He waited for Stev to reply. If they were all in agreement, he would accept the offer.

Stev shrugs, "I'm used to dealing with dangerous things, and like most dangerous things, sometimes short term risks can result in some long term benefits. Let's just reassess the situation soon, and be ready to cut ties."

Tekahionwake was somewhat surprised that none seemed to have an issue with it. Though, he supposed it wasn't all that surprising given their line of work.

"Right then, well, I graciously accept your offer. So, what's next?"

Marius smiles and raises his glass.

"First, we celebrate. Tomorrow, we nurse our hangovers and plan our takeover of Doskvol's underworld!"

================================

"The Fog Hounds are going to lose patience sooner or later," says Marius as he leans over the Well's dinner table, cradling a bowl of soup. "So the way I see it, we have three choices:
1. We stall for time by paying them off for our next few jobs.
2. We stall for time by doing jobs outside of "their" business.
3. We prepare for war."

Ash takes a drink from her mushroom tea, on one side fuck the fog hounds they aren't the only one on the business anymore and on the other side, they aren't ready to go to war with them, yet.

"I want to get rid of those mutts but we aren't ready, if we could find a way to mix option 2 and option 3 that would be ideal. As for option one." She looks up trying to remember how much do they have left on their vault. "We just paid the sisters,  are we in a position where we could lose more money? We have to eventually do something about them anyway."

A glass of water swirled slowly in Stev's hands, the motion giving his hands something to do.

"I think Ash has the correct approach. We should look to forcing them out at some point, but hopefully not now. However, another option. We could try for a lucrative job, pay them off, but turn the rest into capital for our upcoming conflict. I might have a lead for such a job. I assume it would be quite dangerous though."

"Oh?"

Ash turns to look at Steve with a smirk on her face, she likes dangerous and difficult jobs, they make her push her abilities to the limit. Those are the scores she gets to learn more from.

"This sounds interesting. What do you have?"

"Well, it might end up stepping on some toes, depending on the job. The details are not yet know." Stev frowns, he wasn't deliberately avoiding the question. "Sorry. I have a contact called Blackwell who is interested in hiring us. Rumour has it that he works for Lord Scurlock. I can assume, given what we do, and what Lord Scurlock does, that it's the type of job that the Fog Hounds won't like. We could try to be very quiet with it. I don't believe Blackwell has approached anyone else yet.

Marius was about to take a sip from his bowl when he heard the familiar name of Lord Scurlock. He stops and puts his bowl down.

"If we're going to work for Him, we will need to be on our best behavior. He's not someone to trifle with."

"We could at least get a rundown from this Blackwell to know it the job is something beneficial for but parties. " Ash says. "Think, he would agree to a meeting?"

Stev grimaced and nodded at Marius' statement. "Yes, I can imagine that to be the case. To be honest, I'm hoping we work through an intermediately." He then turns to Ash to answer her question. "I guess we could assess the job after knowing more details, but I wouldn't want to annoy Lord Scurlock. If we need to back out, it better be worth potentially worse relations with one of the more powerful members of this city. Still, Blackwell should know we might reach out. My contact did pass on his details."

The group stops by a "no-lamps" cigar lounge in crow's foot after a tip from Sercy. Something about a job with a big payout for those with the guts and guile?

The whole "no-lamps" deal makes it hard to see much of anything inside the place. The outside looked rather non-descript for a business in Crow's Foot...just another run-down shop for gangers and workers trying to find a quiet place to sin and forget. Inside was little more than murk and clouds of fragrant smoke. You pass a few strange figures on your way to your room in the back. These individuals come and go from closed, private rooms, indubitably for discussions of unsavory business.

You are surprised when you enter the room to find that it is definitely not Sercy inside. You don't need to see the other's face to identify them. You can tell by the voice, the tone, that it's a man you've only seen bossing his grunts around in the streets here and there - Hutton, the leader of the Grinders.

"Evening, ladies and gents. Fancy a cigar?"

In the darkness you can see he is holding out a box. Behind him are two other large figures - bodyguards, no doubt.

After exchanging pleasantries he gives you some details on the job.

"Ther's a ship in port for the next few days. The Abourkir. Large warship for the Imperial Navy. Well, we's none too fond of them, and them of us, so do us a favor and plant this deep, deep down in the lower decks."

He hands you a bag with what feels to be something wooden inside of it. Closer inspection reveals it to be a wooden totem - a person with a noose around its neck.

"Somewhere real hidden so no one will find it."

You can see a glimmer of his face - scarred cheek, wild eyes - as the tip of his cigar cherries.

"And a word to the wise? Don' keep that thing around yous too long. Bad, bad juju to leave it on your barge overnight."

"Gotcha, Abourkir, deep inside and do not keep it around more than necessary."  Ash nodes to Hutton's instructions then looks at the box in his hand. "I know better than to take any possible cursed object before having Rakes's go ahead." She points at the box, goosebumps going up her back again, if she could train herself to have this reaction only with the real dangerous stuff it could become a really useful six sense; and maybe that way not depend so much on her brother.

Marius nods sagely. "We'll find somewhere safe to store it until the ship comes in."

Carefully, he takes the bag and puts it in his satchel.

Score 3

It's one thing to talk about sneaking aboard a warship. It's another to behold the warship before you. It's formidable steel hull and towering smoke stacks loom before you, dwarfing your small boat. You can hear chatter of guards in the distance, but for now, the coast is clear.

The sea is black in the moonless, overcast night. The smell of brine hangs heavy in the air, and a chill evening breeze sends a shiver down your spine. Meanwhile, everyone senses a growing irritability and a creeping sense of dread ever since you picked up the totem from Hutton.

It's time to move.

Ashlyn looks up at the rail of the ship, her rope should be able to get up there without trouble. <<Damn it, IT WILL, no second-guessing your abilities Helker.>> That damn totem I playing with our perceptions.

"I'll throw my hook up there so we can get in, guys." Taking out the hook and rope she double-checks the knot before giving the hook a few rounds before letting it go in the direction of the railing.

The hook lands silently and it stands after a firm pull from Ash. "Nice, up we go."

The phantoms climb up the rope, the sea is calm tonight making the assent an easy one, for now, luck seems to be on their side.

Stev shivers in the cold night's air. He really needed to get that coat. It kept slipping his mind whenever he started planning these things.

"Yes, that was the plan, Helker. Now quick, before someone alerts them to our presence." Stev whispers back at the other Phantom. "We should have some cover when we get up there, if Rake's managed to follow my directions."

The crew clambers up the side of the vessel, climbing past gunports and generally trying to make as little noise as possible. You step over the railing onto the wooden deck of the ship and scan your surroundings. The deck itself is startingly bare. Although it is dark, there is precious little cover to hide from guards, only a few cannons scattered about, the smokestacks, a couple life boats, etc. A guard walks languidly in your direction, and you can spot at least 5 or so more sailors or military grunts milling about or making the rounds on other areas of the deck.

Not 30 meters away, you can spot a hole in the deck where there must be a ladder or set of stairs leading to the next lowest deck.

When Ash gives the signal, Rake follows closely, staying low and moving fast.

As the group made to follow Ash, Stev froze, then grabbed Whitepaws shoulder. Without making a sound, he points downwards. The large man had his foot resting next to an empty bottle, and was in danger of kicking it noisily across the ships deck. Stev reaches down, and throws the bottle overboard. As it makes a soft splash in the water, Stev motions to follow the others.

Although one of the guards seems to notice the group briefly, a quick pause behind a life boat before dashing down the ladder to the next deck seems to do the trick. The party descends to the lower deck without incident. This deck is even darker than the one above, lit only by the occasional lantern.

In the dim light, you can see that you are now on the gun deck. On a ship of this size, some 600 men would ordinarily live and work here. 60-some guns line the hull, with tables in between and hundreds of hammocks strewn about. Thankfully, the deck is mostly deserted on account of the ship being in port. Still, 20-30 men are on the deck, drunkenly snoring.

40 meters down the deck you can see another set of stairs downwards. Only trouble is, there's a group of sailors drinking and playing cards not 5 meters away from the stairs....

Ash stopped the moment she heard the sailors, she could see a bunch of boxes she could use to sneak around and the oil lamp that could be a good distraction if they managed to turn it over. Turning she used the hand gestures she and her brother had come up with to have a silent conversation.

Ill distract them you topple over the lamp. She signaled, then once her brother answered with a nod she crouched and slowly moved over the boxes.

As Ash slinks into the darkness, Rake pulls a slingshot from his bag, a loan from Spooks, along with the special ammunition Stev had given him the night before. The ball felt soft to the touch, like a hard-boiled egg. It was oblong and... actually a hard-boiled egg. What a mad genius, reflects Rake. Hopefully, it would muffle the noise of impact.

He lines up the shot, wincing at the tension in his injured hand, and waits for Ash's distraction.

Ash clambers up onto the boxes and past the sailors...but it appears they are more sober than they sound. One of them points in your direction and stands up aggressively.

"What the? Oi! Who the blazes are you?"

The other gamblers look over suspiciously, squinting against the dim light.

The man who just spoke walks over to get a closer look...

Shit, shit, shit, thinks Rake as one of the sailors spots Ash and gets up to get a better look. He sights down the length of the extended rubber of the slingshot, correcting his aim slightly, and lets go. The egg flies straight and true, striking the lamp square and sending it flying straight at one of the sailors.

The sailor, who was otherwise staring intently at Ash, yelps as the lantern flies into his chest. It drops to the ground and smashes, causing him to start swearing profusely. The confusion creates just enough chaos for everyone to rush the porthole in the ground and descend the cramped steps.

The party descends into a very dark room. After stumbling about for a bit, you discern that this chamber houses the cable tier - a large, supersized winch-like apparatus with a grimy chain wrapped around it for pulling up anchor. There are two closed doors exiting the room - one to the fore and one aft. In the direction of the foreward door, you can hear the low hum of a conversation. To the aft, you can see a very faint bit of light under the door...

When Ashe gets down the porthole last her eyes go first to the closed door with the dimmed light, which could be a better choice. People inside might be sleep or there might even be only one person inside. She gestures to the gang. Ill check that door. She leans in and puts her ear to the surface trying to hear if someone was inside.

================================

After a few seconds, she turns pointing to her ear then showing three fingers up and adding three more with a shrug.

Whitepaws thanked Stev with a nod as the man pointed out the bottle he nearly kicked. That could have been costly.

+++

Below decks, he readied himself for a fight. If the sailor made a move for Ashe, he would make sure that sailor took a few days waking up, but the shot from the slingshot was beautiful.

Whitepaws watched as Ashe raised her fingers. He was itching for a fight. He smiled and held a thumbs up.

We can take them, he thought.

Rake points to the door from which they can hear the low sound of conversation. He signals to the crew to prepare for The Owl's Swoop, a maneuver they'd discussed during their briefings. Ash carried a silence potion vial with her. It would give them a few moments of quiet to take out one or a few people without making any noise. The Owl's Swoop involved a quick, sudden strike using surprise and the potion's alchemical effect.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be necessary, but it couldn't hurt to be ready. Carefully, slowly, he pushes the door open.

The door creaks slightly as Jay nudges it open. The reveal is slightly anti-climactic - there's no one in the room, just a few rows of shelves with clothing and other assorted belongings of the sailors. The center of the room is obstructed by a large steel block spanning from floor to ceiling, which you can surmise houses the smokestack that leads down to the boiler room and above to the deck where the smoke of burning coal is released as exhaust.

A ladder leads upwards to the gun deck. On the other side of the room is another door leading closer toward the fore of the ship.

You can still hear the faint voices of conversation, but can tell there are some distance away. It seems like there might be yet another empty room between you and the two people holding a conversation.

Rake signals "again" to the rest of the crew, then slips into the room ahead. Once the Phantoms are in position close to the next door. He opens it carefully, hoping this one leads to a way down.

Tekahionwake made ready to get violent, and then was let down. He was not disappointed, however. In his experience, when violence was necessary it would find him. He takes up position again and makes ready to back up Rake.

The party enters a rather cramped room with some primitive washing machines lining one wall and two "stalls" for bathtubs in the corners along the starboard wall. The room is empty so the party moves briskly through it, squinting to see in the dark. The floorboards creak under your movement, and you can faintly hear the ship groaning as it rises on a tide and shifts. Seems like the wind might be picking up.

The next room you enter is a small space that seems to have little purpose beyond containing a staircase downwards and a ladder heading up. It also has a door going further forward to the bow that is ajar. Beyond the open door you can hear the two men having a conversation and see that what appears to be a prison cell.

One man mutters something in a frustrated and urgent tone.

"No - I don't think that's going to work. You're going to have to try something else!"

Another, lower and huskier voice answers.

"I know, I know, one moment...shush, did you hear that?" They pause, clearly listening.

Rake takes his Spirit Mask from his bag, placing the jigsaw of leather and scales in front of his face as he concentrates, slowing his breath. He opens his eyes, looking into the ghost field, reaching for the echoes of the recent past. The real world becomes blurry, distant, as ghostly shapes start to appear in his field of vision, going through the motions of their past activities.

A chill runs down Rake's spine as he stares into the spirit world. The material world becomes misty and ghostly, and he sees an echo of a man in raggedy clothes walking through the room you are in now. He wears a black hood covering his face with holes for his eyes and what appears to be a pack of thieving tools, glancing over his shoulder and moving quietly.

Rake takes off his mask and focuses back to the material world. He turns to the Phantoms and signals one and thief. Then he adds help and shrugs to signal a question.

Stev shrugs, helping people wasn't the job description, and involved a lot more uncertainty. It's not something that he would do, but Stev wasn't one to stop others from showing charity.

Ash shrugs, not quite understanding what is going on but nodding to Marius anyways. She points to herself then to him. Im with you.

====================================

Marius indicates for Ash to go first, she smirks understanding now, some negotiation might be in order.
Ash puts her hand on the door. Looking back to make sure the others are ready. She nods. Then slowly opens the door, just a crack.

“We might be able to help with that lock.” She whispers through it.

Tekionwake remains impassive. Seeing the other two shrug, he sighed and shrugged as well. More people would mean more chances of being discovered, but it also might mean potential gain. Obviously this person had snuck around undetected. Perhaps they had valuable intel?

Eventually he gave a thumbs up. He follows Ash in, almost eager to make sure she was OK, even though he knew she could take care of herself.

Inside Ash spots a rather emaciated, filthy looking man inside the cell with a desperate look in his eyes. They widen when Ash appears.

The scoundrel moves slowly to regard her, placing his hands on his hips. You can't see his expression, what with the black mask, but his body language indicates that he is highly skeptical. He waves a flintlock pistol in her direction.

"And who the hell are you?"

Ash notices just now that it looks like he has a small explosive poking out of a bag in his feet...

"A scoundrel on a different mission." She whispered. "We only want to get our job over with and get out of here. Let us keep civil, we all lose if the people on the other side of that door find out we are here." She had her hands up trusting the gang has her covered if the situation explodes.

The man with the gun tilts his head, appearing to be in thought. He glances at the prisoner before shaking his head and stepping backward and gesturing toward the lock on the prison cell.

"Be my guest. But if I may...what do you get out of this?"

He's not pointing the gun at Ash so much as holding it in a way that makes it clear that he is indeed armed and doesn't want any funny business.

"That we don't get any funny business from you. I open the lock and we can each get back to our business without an unpredictable variable in it." She lowers her hands and takes out her picking tools, smirk already on her face, it was always fun trying to open these things.