Trouble in the West (WUSHU) IC

[Blockhead]

Trouble in the West

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Let me list a few influences for you: Hellsing. Deadwood. Trigun. Priest. A Fist Full of Dollars. The Dark Tower. Seven Samurai.

Now picture a West that never was, where demons moved in the haunted dark and even the bitterest of enemies might put aside their grievances for a chance to strike back at the things that were stalking their families. Where a man might force a beast of hissing smoke out of the town priest, and then find himself helpless when it possesses his daughter. Where a band of mercenaries guarding a town might demand payment in the form of exposed throats.

Picture a homestead shell-shocked and ruined by years of supernatural abuse, where the shutters hang broken and gaunt faces stare out the windows at every traveler that passes by. Now pretend that's where you came from. You inherited your Da's ability to shoot cans off of a fence post at forty paces, and you inherited your Ma's fangs.

Imagine the time-stop gun-fu of the Matrix (or Max Payne, if you'd prefer,) waged between winged desperadoes and cloven-hoofed holy men. Picture saloons where only a fraction of the clientèle is still human, and where the phrase "there's blood on the menu" doesn't mean someone should go fetch a cloth and wipe it off.

You've been recruited or conscripted into a mysterious gang of supernatural warriors called 'Heaven's Retribution', based in the Wild West of America. This gang, although its existance is known by many, is shrouded in mystery and generally reguarded as a bad omen when a person claiming to be a member pops into town. Although it's warriors seek to do good, there is often a price to pay for the cleansing that they cause, be it damage to property, people or reputation. The gang is known to be fairly widespread and maintained by a chain-of-command. (Although the gang may sound Oriental, it does not mean it's members are Ninja's and of Eastern decent, far from it, it's just the names and the honour they practise)

Usually a 'Sensai' is the leader of a group of warriors, this group ranging from 2 to 12, who cover a small geographical area, usually several dozen square miles, but are allowed to travel. 'Sensai' usually establish their base of operations as an Inn and discuss contracts with their warriors there. The 'Sensai' reports to a 'Master' who manages several 'Sensai' over a geographical area, usually the size of a state. 'Master' usually establish their base of operations as a church or large Inn, usually with a secret area to deal with gang business. The 'Master' reports to 1 of 4 'Grand-Master' who manages either the North states, the East states, the South states or the West states. 'Grand-Master' usually hold positions of power within the Government and will usually travel to meet with any 'Master' personally. These 4 'Grand-Master' are the only people alive who have contact with the leader of the entire gang, the 'Shogun'. Rumour has it, he is an Angel sent from Heaven to administer justice of the demonic intrusions of the land. Whatever the rumours may be, the 'Grand-Master' are bound by a strict code of secrecy and a visit by a 'Grand-Master' indicates something of epic proportions happening. The 'Shogun' manages the entire gang operations from a hidden location.

'Sensai' are responsible for training their warriors and aqquiring information about possible demons or other unnatural happenings, then task the warriors with a mission according to the information received. If the mission is of too grand a scale, or requires the expertise of a higher ranking member, or just more warriors, the 'Sensai' can speak with a 'Master' and arrangements can be made.

You are a group of warriors, recruited, conscripted or otherwise, under the orders of your 'Sensai', who goes by the name 'Grey Desert' (as most members have codenames to protect their real identities from others). He is somewhat old with wrinkles and short grey hair spouting from his head and chin. He runs a small Inn, 'The Angry Boar' on the outskirts of a small town named 'Bellrose'. 'Work' has been steady for a while, with the odd possession and small rampage happening, but nothing majorly terrible.

Ad Mortem, "Mort"

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Name: Ad Mortem, "Mort"
Mort is a Wraith-like being that was found and raised by raiders after being abandoned by his real mother (his father was almost certainly an otherworldly Wraith, the ghost of a demon-posessed soul). He was raised as a killer but his adopted father gave him a chance to leave the life when he was 17 (current age: 20), which Mort accepted, wanting to see the world. He quickly found that half-breed killers like himself could earn money and respect, but could never fully integrate into society. His one friend is the enchanter who modifies his equipment and who is teaching him latin (including the name he now works under, Ad Mortem).
Appearance:
Mort wears a dark blue duster (the standard of badass longcoats) which has been specialy treated to function with his his abilities (his gun and boots too) and not drop whatever he has in his pockets when he activates his Wraith form. He carries a massive black .50 8-round Fletchet Revolver inscribed with "Ultima Ratio Regum" that he has named Papa (In honor of the bandit who raised him, not his real father). During the day he wears spec's that are tinted red to make his red iris' appear gray.
Mort has black hair that is short and falls loose on his head. His bangs are of moderate length and frame his face. He has no facial hair and his skin is a pale. Not pale for a modern person, but pale for a time when everyone worked all day under a wild-west sun.
Peronality: Mort is best described as "aloof, rought, and likeable." He is hesitant to form bonds with other people and was brought up by men who raided for a living and who spoke the language of violence. He does however have a sense of humor and, once befriended, will go to any lengths to protect his new friend.

Traits and Features:
Fully Automated Ass-Kicking Machine 4(2+2)- This character knows how tofight and has the killer instincts to break heads in his sleep (dont wake him up suddenly, BTW).

• Nerve Grabs- Cut off blood supply and inflict pain with well placed punches and pinches
• Wraith Trait- Unnatural Reflexes and and average human strength (on a rather small man)
• Cheap Shots- Groin! Groin! Eye! Throat! Groin!

Wraith Form 5(2+3)- Mort can go incorporeal instantly and at will.

• Integreted Equipment- Mort's gun, his duster, and whatever is in the duster go wraith with him.
• Contested Mass- If he goes un-wraith while him and some other material occupy the same space, they exert force on each other based on mass. His hand can force aside water with a slight stinging. Not so much for cement.
• Immunities- Needless to say, in wraith form he cant hurt stuff, and most stuff cant hurt him. Fire, lightening, explosions, and holy stuff are the exceptions.
• Bloody Scary- Its much easier to scare someone as a demonic ghost than as a 5' 2" in a long coat.

Crazy Balance 4(2+2)- Mort is as sure footed and light as a mountain cat.

• On top of things- Fenceposts, horses, trees, stilts, fences, peoples heads. He can stand calmly atop them all.
• "sure, i can walk that line"- His sheets are always firmly lashed down, out of the wind, no matter what drugs are in his system.
• Monumentus Equilibrium- If he can balance standing, he can blance running. And he will. Or on the back of a horse. Or train.

Gunslinger 4(2+2)- Bang Bang! Shoot em up! The party never ends!

• Quick Shot- Perhaps a slow draw. Perhaps a slow reload. But he can empty his clip in the blink of an eye.
• "umm...ow. OW!"- The fletchet darts dont hurt much going in or coming out the other side, but if you try to move your body will realize that your injuries are actualy rather more...severe than you thought.
• Aiming?- if he is taking time to line up a shot, he isnt using his normal gun or tactics, and thus not his usual Trait.

Bewitching 3(2+1) Mort can us his natural powers to enthrall mortals temporarily.

• Now...sleep- Mort can put mortals in a deep stupor.
• Demonic Charm- In exchange for alienating them later, Mort can make a person love him in the short term.

Weakness: Con was my dump stat 1(21)- No he isnt resistant to iocane powder. No, he cant just 'tough it out'. Yes, he will ask to stop for a rest every ten minutes of your forced march.

Kate Madison

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Name: Kate Madison
Age: 29
Height: 5' 4"
Weight: 190 lbs (formerly 115)

Physical Description: Kate is an unimposing redhead. She is very thin, although the perceptive notice that she has a heavy footstep without a plodding gait. On closer examination, her right hand is a prosthetic, although it is difficult to tell. Her curves are modest, and she is attractive unless buried elbows-deep in oil and parts.

Traits:

Steampunk Savant - 5
- Expert Mechanic
- Weapons Developer
- Repair(wo)man
Half Girl, Half Gears - 5
- Concealed Magnum in the Right Prosthetic Hand
- Wrist Blade
- Rocket Boots!
Highly Educated - 4
- Demons
- Medicine
- Well-read
Demon Hunter - 4
- Demonic Weaknesses
- Demonic Tracking
- Hiding from Demons
Curious - 1

Kate was a bright study, and loved to build things as a child. She was more interested in building a house out of twigs than playing house. Her favorite thing to learn was how things worked. How did steam power so many amazing things? She devoured the knowledge in glee, and as she grew, she started remembering how to put things back together so they weren't in pieces on the floor. She enjoyed drawing up plans and dreaming fantastic machines almost as much as putting them back together, so she tried to be an engineer. Unfortunately, she lost her hand and nearly her life in a demonic attack. Crippled, she was saved by a group of survivors that lived by movement, and she used spare parts to restore her broken hand, and before long, started making demon hunting tools so that humans could fight back. From dissections of smaller demons, she learned their weakpoints, trying to pin them down so humans can live without fear again.

Chaucer

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Name: Chaucer
Appearance: Medium build, with a little bit of pudge. Chaucer doesn't exercise all that much, and it shows. Still, he's handsome enough in his own way with ragged blond hair and horn-rimmed glasses. He's fond of wearing brown leather dusters and has a gold engagement band that he tends to fiddle with.
Personality: Chaucer is mild-mannered. This is probably a good thing, considering his profession. It takes a lot of pushing to get any kind of reaction out of him, but the instant something threatens one of his charges he tears into it.
Background:
Blendling: 5. Chaucer has strong demonic blood on his mother's side and it tends to manifest itself in inconvenient ways.
-Slurred speech (Chaucer's tongue can lengthen to about ten feet of leathery, barbed sinew. Or it can sit there in his mouth like a normal tongue.)
-Red flashes (If Chaucer gets angry enough, he sometimes forgets about the world. He body acts on demonic automatic--ripping its surroundings apart--while his mind detaches from its senses.)
-Brimstone walk (Chaucer sometimes leaves smoldering footprints in the earth. His kicks can heat-warp steel.)
-Poltergeist (objects around Chaucer sometimes animate with mischievous or destructive force.)
Looking after a brood of misunderstood children with incredible powers means you acquire some pretty sweet scars. Here, let me show you them: 5. Temper tantrums. Not so worrying when they're coming from a human kid. The absolute worst he can do is stomp on your shoe and then call you a meanie. When the kid has demon-blood, however, he's just as likely to turn into a cloud of bees, sting you to death, and then call you a meanie. Years of looking after 'gifted' children has toughened Chaucer up to near-superhuman levels.
-My face is also a weapon (Chaucer has mastered the art of the point-blank headbutt as a way to deflect low-flying missiles, bullets, jets of caustic flame, babies, etc.)
-I can punch you in the ectoplasm (much better for discipline than a ruler-rap on the knuckles.)
-I am so immune to your toxins that my body probably produces them (really. it does. Scratches from Chaucer's fingernails have decidedly varied results.)
-It takes more than a little hellfire to singe me (Chaucer has a tendency to stand right in the center of oncoming energetic blasts...and emerge un-fazed.)
Ghost dancer: 4. It's more of a hobby, really. And it's good cardio, besides.
-Void tango (Chaucer doesn't dodge blows. He simply ceases to be in the place they're moving through.)
-.45 caliber waltz (Chaucer has made an extensive study of the usual places a gunman will aim. The waltz contorts his body in between them, decreasing his odds of being hit.)
-Endbringer's reel (requires a partner, willing or unwilling, to be swung around at high speeds and launched into a particularly crunchy bit of furniture. Usually the partner is unwilling.)
The left-hand path burns unholy within me: 4. Every teacher learns something unexpected from his kids. Chaucer learned sorcery.
-Bubble (a tight-fitting bubble of force encloses Chaucer and shields him from harm)
-Lock (target's shadow sticks to its feet like tar, making it difficult to pull free.)
-Double (creates illusory copies of Chaucer which sort of mill about in confusion. It's not ideal camouflage, but he's still working on ironing out the quirks in the spell.)
Kind Heart: 1. It's silly, but Chaucer tends to pull his punches at the last second, especially when he's fighting something he can sympathize with.

Vincent Valentine

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Name: Vincent Valentine (just this once... I will let it be.)
Nickname: Crimson fury
Background:
Vincent Valentine is a "young" vampire by the standards of his new race, and was even a man of power in his past "Living" days. He had once been a man of noble stanrd, and of pure blood working for a more corrupt company known as "Wal-Mart" while most would assume that he would have been incredibly poor this was not true. As he was the adopted, and eldest son of the owner of Wal-Mart THE Robert Wal.
Non of that mattered after the infection first came. Non of it mattered at all. wealth, status, power everything crumbled around him. Twas enough to drive a man mad. Yet the man lost within himself wandered. Killing, taking, everything that most would consider horrible crimes back in the days of normalcy. Yet, those days were as far gone as his sanity, and for a year he wandred fighting off everything that came his way. Never letting anything get close.... Or hurt him like it had before... He had hurt SO bad after the first incident... Then one day he ran into something he COULDNT fight off.... a Vampire... The vampire took pity on the poor soul, adn rather than letting him bleed out he made him into a Vampire, a Creature of the night.
qwhile he was unacuqainted with his powers he had the ability to launch large objects into the air at incredible speeds with a mere thought, and while he had "read" that other vampires were capable of this he had heard from he nameless "mentor" that this ability was extremly special.
Traits:
Telekinesis: 5
Super Strength: 4
Super Speed: 4
Uber intellgence: 5
Flaw
Mentally unstable: BLARGH! IA IA ! RHYLEH! CTHULHU FGHTAN! (He has split personas.)

Each of you sit round a small table in The Angry Boar, your Sensai's Inn and also your favorite hangout. You're playing Poker and lightly drinking, it's raining outside and lightning strikes in the distance. The Inn is fairly small, and consists of a few tables and chairs, a bar, a small fire place, a few wall trophies, a cellar and a couple of rooms upstairs. It's fairly quiet in the Inn for such a terrible night and there's a couple of other people sitting around their own tables or the bar, quietly drinking to themselves. Your Sensai is currently out doing whatever it is that he does and has left you in charge of the Inn for the brief amount of time he claims he will be away. Still, it's quiet and you get to relax, for the moment.

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Roleplay amongst yourselves, once we're all here we can fully begin

[Fan]

vincent lightly sipped his blend of blood, and fermented wine looking lightly over a copy of Hamlet's Soliquoy while he dealt out the next hand of cards his own face emtionless, and for the most part uncaring,.

[Stormthorn]

Mort takes the cards that the vampire slides across the table to him. Because he is in a lit room with humans present he is wearing his red teashade glasses with the small round frames. He regards the cards in a detached manner and settles back in his chair, looking almost comicly small in his duster.

He frowns at his untouched beer before looking about the table.

So...is this what you all usualy waste time doing?


((This is how i tend to denote OOC comments. Mort is a new guy, remember.))

[Kuma Da]

Chaucer

Chaucer's only half-watching his cards. Most of his mind is elsewhere, but the part that is bothering to crunch odds for his hand isn't pleased. Jack high. Total crap.

"Boredom's a luxury, kid. Enjoy it while it lasts. Oh, and I raise."

His mouth yawns wide and his tongue extends like a pulled stick of taffy. Reaching the flat of the tabletop, it slides a few gambling chips forward and then vanishes back into his mouth with a whip-crack.

"Pthaw. Ya'll stayin' in?"

Edit: adding background in spoiler to post, just for convenience's sake.

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Name: Chaucer
Appearance: Medium build, with a little bit of pudge. Chaucer doesn't exercise all that much, and it shows. Still, he's handsome enough in his own way with ragged blond hair and horn-rimmed glasses. He's fond of wearing brown leather dusters and has a gold engagement band that he tends to fiddle with.
Personality: Chaucer is mild-mannered. This is probably a good thing, considering his profession. It takes a lot of pushing to get any kind of reaction out of him, but the instant something threatens one of his charges he tears into it.
Background:
Blendling: 5. Chaucer has strong demonic blood on his mother's side and it tends to manifest itself in inconvenient ways.
-Slurred speech (Chaucer's tongue can lengthen to about ten feet of leathery, barbed sinew. Or it can sit there in his mouth like a normal tongue.)
-Red flashes (If Chaucer gets angry enough, he sometimes forgets about the world. He body acts on demonic automatic--ripping its surroundings apart--while his mind detaches from its senses.)
-Brimstone walk (Chaucer sometimes leaves smoldering footprints in the earth. His kicks can heat-warp steel.)
-Poltergeist (objects around Chaucer sometimes animate with mischievous or destructive force.)
Looking after a brood of misunderstood children with incredible powers means you acquire some pretty sweet scars. Here, let me show you them: 5. Temper tantrums. Not so worrying when they're coming from a human kid. The absolute worst he can do is stomp on your shoe and then call you a meanie. When the kid has demon-blood, however, he's just as likely to turn into a cloud of bees, sting you to death, and then call you a meanie. Years of looking after 'gifted' children has toughened Chaucer up to near-superhuman levels.
-My face is also a weapon (Chaucer has mastered the art of the point-blank headbutt as a way to deflect low-flying missiles, bullets, jets of caustic flame, babies, etc.)
-I can punch you in the ectoplasm (much better for discipline than a ruler-rap on the knuckles.)
-I am so immune to your toxins that my body probably produces them (really. it does. Scratches from Chaucer's fingernails have decidedly varied results.)
-It takes more than a little hellfire to singe me (Chaucer has a tendency to stand right in the center of oncoming energetic blasts...and emerge un-fazed.)
Ghost dancer: 4. It's more of a hobby, really. And it's good cardio, besides.
-Void tango (Chaucer doesn't dodge blows. He simply ceases to be in the place they're moving through.)
-.45 caliber waltz (Chaucer has made an extensive study of the usual places a gunman will aim. The waltz contorts his body in between them, decreasing his odds of being hit.)
-Endbringer's reel (requires a partner, willing or unwilling, to be swung around at high speeds and launched into a particularly crunchy bit of furniture. Usually the partner is unwilling.)
The left-hand path burns unholy within me: 4. Every teacher learns something unexpected from his kids. Chaucer learned sorcery.
-Bubble (a tight-fitting bubble of force encloses Chaucer and shields him from harm)
-Lock (target's shadow sticks to its feet like tar, making it difficult to pull free.)
-Double (creates illusory copies of Chaucer which sort of mill about in confusion. It's not ideal camouflage, but he's still working on ironing out the quirks in the spell.)
Kind Heart: 1. It's silly, but Chaucer tends to pull his punches at the last second, especially when he's fighting something he can sympathize with.

[Sicarius]

Kate

By the company she kept, Kate must have been a monster. By the naked eye, however, she looked to be merely out of place. She was thin, wearing a petticoat with riding boots. Her chest was cinched tight in a corset, and she sat down just trying to waste time and suppress the bile in her throat at sharing close quarters with monsters. Her fake hand held her cards, her gloves hiding the seam between her hand and the real flesh of her arm.

"Ugh, could you please refrain from doing that?" She averted her eyes and moved some chips forward. Her hand wasn't that strong, but she wondered if she could slip some cards in from her hidden compartment without any of them noticing.

[Stormthorn]

Mort shuffles his cards, tosses them to the table (folding, with a two pair) takes a small sip of beer, and nods.

Indeed. Some of us find what you can do with your tongue obscene.

Somehting in his voice hinted at an untold joke lurking beneath his standoff-ish exterior.

[Kuma Da]

Chaucer

"Sorry, miss. I'll try to keep it in check. But it's kinda like an itch, y'know. If I forget and scratch it, I don't mean any offense."

Chaucer shifts in his chair, turning towards Mort. "Yeah. I've heard that one before. Yadda yadda tongue-demon yadda. Normally I'd reply, but we are in the presence of a lady.

You stayin' in, Vincent?"

[Blockhead]

Before Vincent has a chance to reply the door of the Inn is thrown open, wind and rain howling outside. The figure at the door is a mysterious shadow, but quickly walks in, shutting the door. You realise it's Grey Desert, your Sensai; or to the patrons at the Inn, the Inn Keeper. He takes off his long coat and heads behind the bar, you notice he is clutching a large package. He rings a bell and calls out: "Last call! Get yer last orders in or be off with yer!" The patrons don't seem interested in another drink and quietly leave the Inn, grabbing coats and exposing the Inn to another brief assault of wind and rain before the door shuts and you are left alone with Grey Desert.

He beckons you to follow him down to the cellar behind the bar which, to those of you who have worked here before, you know is Grey Desert's lab of sorts.

[Kuma Da]

Chaucer

Chaucer lays his cards face-down on the table and stands up. His chair scuttles a few steps away from him, lifts itself three feet in the air, does a little pirouette, and then settles back down. Chaucer fixes it with a raised eyebrow and a "was that really necessary?" before heading to the cellar.

[Fan]

Vincents sighs he had a damned good hand, and was about to bluff his way with a gruding minimum raise when the Sesai came in.

[Stormthorn]

Mort impassivly enters wraith form and walks through the table (and Vincent) to descend into the celler.

[Sicarius]

Kate shakes her head. Men and powers didn't mix. They flaunted their powers, unnecessarily used them. She sighed. laid her cards face-down on the table, got up, and walked at a slow pace down the stairs.

[Blockhead]

You walk down the wooden stairs behind the bar that lead to Grey Desert's lab. The walls are lined with shelves of various books, phials, guns and glass jars. He beckons you over to a table and places the package onto it. "Got more work that needs doin'." He said, unwrapping the package. As it's layers fall off, you notice the contents is an elegant knife. "Found this a few days ago at church, under one of them seats. It's a ritual knife, cleaned, obviously, but no doubt a ritual knife. I ain't figured out which cult it might belong ter, I've been ter see the Master of this here area and he's got no plumb idea. Might be a new cult or sumthin' tryin' make a reputation fer itself, but I dunno. Meanwhile I want you guys... and gals to go looking about town, askin' questions if needbe or pokin' around, but careful not ter expose yer identity, at least, try not ter anyways. Most folk don't trust us and you might get a rebellious son' ***** ter give yer a ruff time if yer go round messin' in business normal folk ain't got a leg over. So, it that be all, yer can go get some rest upstairs and start in the mornin'.

[Stormthorn]

((Does sleeping count as an encounter or are you really just easing us into the adventure?))

Mort retires to his bed were he curls up into a small ball (wearing his duster as a blanket but not his other clothing) and dozes lightly.

[Kuma Da]

Chaucer

"Alright. Might as well hit the hay. If ya'll start hearing disembodied voices or my bed starts levitating again, just go on and give it a kick. It should quite right down."

[Stormthorn]

((This lack of activity hurts my brain.))

[Kuma Da]

OOC: fast-forwarding time 'til morning is probably fine by everyone. This game is all about keeping a brisk pace.

[Sicarius]

Kate

Kate was slow in getting up this morning, and it looked like she hadn't slept well and was very moody today. She ate her breakfast with no conversation, and she tried to avoid being around the group whenever she could.

[Kuma Da]

Chaucer

Chaucer swept his biscuit in ever-narrowing circles around his plate, harrying the last remnants of the great army of gravy. Valiantly, they all come together at the center--bolstered by soggy defectors from the biscuit--to build a bastion of flavor. A last redoubt against the buttery blandness of the bread. Its towers stand tall and trumpets echo faintly from the greasy ramparts, for this will be the day that so few stand against so...

Chaucer licks the gravy off the plate, then follows it down with the rest of the biscuit. "Ain't I a stinker? That was delicious, though. Think I'll go back for a bit more." Walking around the bar, he helps himself to a few more eggs, a slab of bacon, and a handful of biscuits. One of them floats up off the platter to hover by his left ear, following him around like an airborne puppy.

Predictably, when he picks a new seat it's next to Kate. "Sleep well? I spent the first few hours tossing and turning. Thought I was hearing this demonic wailing sound, but turned out it was only a lonesome cat. Which was a relief. My family can be pretty intrusive at ti...oh. okay. Talk to you later, then. This was fun."

[Sicarius]

Kate Madison

"Go away Chaucer..." Kate growled. "I don't want to be around any monsters right now." She doesn't brandish any weapons, but her words could cut diamonds.

[Kuma Da]

Chaucer

The levitating biscuit dives behind Chaucer's neck, whimpering crumbs. He absentmindedly reaches up to pat it. "I'm not feeling terribly monstrous right now. Besides, that's all eye-of-the-beholder stuff. The cat sees the dog and thinks it's monstrous. The dog sees its cruel master and thinks he's monstrous. The man takes a look at his life, laid out all around him in half-full bottles, and calls god monstrous." Chaucer shrugs his shoulders. "Are any of them actually monsters? Maybe. Maybe not. Right now I'd say 'no,' but ask me on a different day and you'll get a different answer.

I'll respect your privacy. My finance's not a morning person either. But...can I ask you a question? If you don't like the company here, why don't you strike out on your own?"

[Sicarius]

Kate Madison

"Results and humility. I'm a rare breed of human to be able to deal with monsters. Most don't have my...drive. You are better than most...but right now...I just don't want to deal with you right now."

[Kuma Da]

Chaucer

"Fair enough. I'll leave you to your breakfast."

Chaucer wends his way around the tables and chairs of the common room, coming to a stop next to Vincent. "Is this seat spoken for?"

[Blockhead]

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Sorry for the lack of action, had a string of parties over this weekend and have just about recovered from them.

While you are talking and eating, Grey Desert walks by your table and says: "I'll be openin' the Inn in 10 minutes, so cut the super-natural stuff. So, yer got a plan on how yer gonna find information about the origins of that knife? Or do yer need old Grey Desert to push yer in the right direction." He chuckled. "That knife be in the cellar, if yer wantin' to take it with yer."

[Sicarius]

Kate Madison

"I'd better take a look at it to see what I can find." Kate walked down into the basement to check out the mysterious blade and understand what she could find.

Steampunk Savant or Educated?

[Kuma Da]

Chaucer

"The church sounds like a great place to start. The owner of the blade obviously has some connection with the place."

[Stormthorn]

Mort
Gets up, gets dressed, heads out the door with a bagel (or whatever passes for one in this setting.)

He heads to the local whorehouse, were all the whores are currently sleeping off a night of whoring.

((He is checking for information. Seeing if anyone has attempted to hire a prostitute for sex-magick. I would prefer he not have to entrance any of the girls, but he will if he suspects they are withholding information. So, DM, does he find anything out?))

((In retrospect he should probably have asked Kate to do this, her being a woman and all.))

[Kuma Da]

OOC: *glances through the above post* *facepalms* That has to make for some awkward conversation.

Mort: "So, um, any of you ladies been meddling with powers unholy during the course of your, uh, work day?"

Madam: "Sir! I'll have you know this is a reputable house of ill repute. None of the girls here are capable of witchcraft...except possibly Sarah, but that's just for midwife stuff."

[Blockhead]

To All
Remember that WUSHU is a game that rewards players for detail. Each detail you give when performing an action that requires a roll gains you an extra die to use to pass whatever test is needed. The detail cap is 10 for this game, so no going overboard with details just to get loads of die.

Kate Madison

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Heading down the wooden stairs you enter your Sensai's lab again. The scene is the same as last nights, the package remains on a table in the center of the room. Unwrapping it and picking up the knife inside, you try and deduce some information from it. (Roll a Steampunk Savant skill test, roll 1 die and aim to get below or the same as your skill score, which in this case is 5. You'd get to roll more die if your post was more detailed, but nevermind)

'Mort'

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Mort walks into the whorehouse with a purpose and approaches the house master, a middle-aged man with a bowler hat and no facial hair, and asks him if any of the girls have been used for 'unusual' sexual experiences, or if any of them have gone missing. The house master replies that he hasn't. You ask him if you can talk to the girls. The house master explains that most have either just gotten up and are tired or they are still asleep in their rooms with another patron. He also mentions several house rules about no fighting or guns and all the usual things you'd expect from someone trying to keep a tidy and orderly house; not that you'd always follow these rules.

After the brief chat with the house master, you begin to question the tired girls, more of which enter the 'lounge' area while you are talking with the others. Most seem innocent, as far as whores go and most, if not all of them offer you a good time for a modest amount of dollars. None of the whores seem to have gone missing, but one whore you later question does seem a little on edge when you ask about 'unusual' sexual practises. She doesn't mention anything out of the ordinary, but you can tell she's keeping information from you. (You can attempt to Bewitch her into loving you for a short time to get her to tell you, although it might be best to do this out of sight, lest the house master or the other whores think you're a bad demon and try to kill you or throw you out. Feel free to describe the procedure you'll be using to Bewitch the whore and I'll award an appropriate amount of detail die)

Chaucer
(You off to the church on your own now then? Or will you wait for the others/see what they're up to?)

Vincent Valentine
Snores can be heard from the upstairs of the Inn. It would seem that Vincent is still asleep. Perhaps he is unable to work during the day, as part of being a vampire, you don't know. Either way, he is still asleep upstairs. (Where has FF Fanboy got to? This should keep his absense explained for a short while)

[Sicarius]

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I was going to put more detail in the post, but it depended on whether I was supposed to use Steampunk Savant or Well-Educated.

(1d6)[3]Target No: 5.