1879: The Expendables

Tell us about your campaign!
Posts: 852
Joined: Mon Nov 28, 2016 11:44 pm

Re: 1879: The Expendables

Post by Slimcreeper » Sat Mar 14, 2020 2:19 pm

This is the sort of thing that I like about 1879. The PCs may be extraordinary people, but they are still just people thrown into extraordinary circumstances.

Posts: 653
Joined: Sun Nov 27, 2016 10:02 pm

Re: 1879: The Expendables

Post by ChrisDDickey » Thu Mar 26, 2020 7:51 pm

Lord Bentley Bottles journal concluded for the evening.
From there it was all wrapping up. The Ladies Maid was glancing over the papers, making sure that all were there when she noticed that Erika Withakay was reading over her shoulder. The Maid put the papers away securely, and wanting to nail down the secrecy further, started to demande a quiet word with Mrs Annabella White, Mrs White had the good sense to take off running. The Maid took the time to ask us to carry the captives into the wine cellar before striding off firmly in pursuit. It was not long before she joined us in the wine cellar, so apparently she ran her to ground and put the fear of god into her pretty quickly. McFly meanwhile started collecting all the scrap parts from the mechanical scorpions. 

As Smyth and I carried the captives, Smyth pointed out some wolves watching us. They did not behave in the least bit aggressive, but nor did they behave in any canine manor, ether wild or domestic. I have struggled to describe their behavior, and the best I can come up with is attentively nonchalant. We ignored them, and they returned the favor. 

In the wine cellar, I ripped up my shirt and had Smyth bind my wound, which stopped the bleeding. Smyth got a bit over enthused ripping Erika's dress to uncover her wound, and the maid needed to go find a maids dress as a replacement. While she was gone, we searched both prisoners more thoroughly, but found little of interest. Milford Blult awoke and tried to sweet talk us, but we gagged him. I went to my carriage where I got a new shirt out of my suitcase (it was the one I had been wearing before I changed for the banquet, so it was in need of a pressing, but one must make due with what one has). We all went out to where we had seen the wolves. I looked for tracks, and found wolf tracks, which turned into barefoot human tracks. I followed them to where there had been a cache of clothing, and the 5 sets of tracks all became shod. I followed these shoe tracks back to the manor house. 

I of course lost the tracks when they ascended the marble stairway to the terrace. But on the far side of the terrace a man with a monocle, probably in his late 40s, who was lounging by the railing gave me a knowing look and said "Nice change of shirt, the buttons suit you", which I took to indicate that he had witnessed the fight in which my other shirt had become bloodstained. I also took it to mean that he was probably a mage who had used a spell to shapeshift into the form of a wolf (the others were joking that the wolves had been werewolves). I gave him a knowing nod and said "Nice shoes" to indicate that I knew that he had just recently put his shoes back on after his jaunt in wolf form. 

I told Lord Steers that Erika was feeling in need of a sit-down, and that she would rejoin him in his carriage when he called for it.  I then went back into the ballroom and apologized to Miss Julia for being absent so long. I danced with her again and stayed until the majority of the guests departed. 

Posts: 25
Joined: Mon Jul 22, 2019 8:01 pm

Re: 1879: The Expendables - McFly's Journal

Post by Psitanium » Thu Mar 26, 2020 8:47 pm

While our unconscious perpetrators were being hauled away, I used the opportunity to gather 100 scorpion parts and store them in Rachel’s carriage. This took a fair amount of time, with multiple trips, digging through the garden, with sporadic bursts of shouting “Mine!” It will definitely be worth it when I rebuild them, starting my personal army of robo-scorpions. Oddly, there was a moment as I headed back to the carriage where a sudden wind of change stirred behind me and I felt I had done such an impressive display that it had been conferred to someone else momentarily for reasons I may never fully understand. And yet, a smile and nod did meet my face.

Back inside, I contacted Rachel, who led me to a secluded area to straighten my outfit, which may have been slightly askew due to rummaging around in the garden. I warned her not to stare when we returned to the carriage later, which she seemed to accept as a thing I often say. In her defense, this is likely the third time the phrase “Try not to stare at what I placed in the carriage” had crossed my lips in her presence.
By the time I returned to the rest of the party, the man had some clothing in his mouth, the lady had obviously been searched under her scorpion deployment dress, spell lady had ripped her bodice (possibly self-inflicted) and the hunter was suffering a shirt-deficiency. Then he insisted on greeting a pack of somewhat sociable wolves outside. I fear I might have missed some valuable information during my scavenging hunt.
Well, if everyone was game to meet some wolves, I was certainly not going empty-handed. It was off to the kitchen for me to grab some shot glasses and silverware. I fashioned a pair of astral sight glasses out of the shots and converted a couple forks into stun projectiles. I also took a couple knives, because I was short on knives back at Danger Zone.

The wolves were unfortunately gone once I caught up to the rest, making me question if their existence was real in the first place or if this had all been an elaborate prank that went nowhere. Deflated, I shuffled up to the balcony, where I saw the hunter having a rather odd conversation with a man wearing interesting shoes. I only noticed they were interesting because the hunter mentioned them. Since my astral shot glasses would wear off shortly, I cast my gaze toward this gentleman, realizing that the frequency he vibrated at was unlike known species. Typically a human, troll, elf, politician, etcetera, will vibrate at a certain frequency which is distinguishable from others. However, this one was indescribable, almost as if it were hungry... like a wolf. My scientific conclusion was that this was obviously the fancy werewolf I had feared from the start. Perhaps my silverware would prove useful in this scenario, but opportunity never knocked. Exactly how I thought I could casually stab someone with a knife and make it look natural was not certain, but the option never left the table. I then had the bright idea to throw a stick in his direction and yell “Fetch” to see if it garnered any canine-like reactions. However, Rachel interrupted me while I was shaking said stick and I knew this evening had blissfully come to a conclusion.

Back in the carriage, Rachel had a few questions as we stared at a pile of assorted death robot scorpion parts. The questions boiled down to “What?”, “Where?”, “For me?” and “Werewolves you say?” I explained that they were handing out these lovely robot scorpion party favors in the garden and thought to get two since no one came to collect them. She was fine taking the one that suffered a fatal laser enema, so everything worked out for the best. Rachel spent the majority of her ride home looking at one of the claws, examining the small firearm inside.
I commented that the evening seemed to go quite well, all things considered. She agreed, likely because her expectations for this party were deeply diminished after finding out about my grenade fashion accessory. But she seemed content knowing it finally found a good home buried in the cybernetic rectal cavity of a metal arachnid. I must go to balls more often!

Post Reply