Port Lorrel

[Graybeard]

[OOC: Mind if I step in as Keyes for a little bit here?]

Keyes was continuing to sneak sidelong glances at the golem, but something in the conversation caught his attention and he decided to get involved. "Etcute me?" he interrupted politely. "It tound like you guy want to go into de main Port Lorrel harbor. We uthually prefer to land in a more ... private ... pot down touth of dere. It avoid tertain ... complication ... with de Port Lorrel Harbor Autority." Raised eyebrows all around. "Let jut tay dat dey're a little corrupt and leave it at dat, OK? Miter Lucat, you're de one paying for dit trip, and we'll land where you want to, but if we're gonna go into de port, I'll have to make tome arrangement. And dey might be ekpentive. What do you tink?" He looked at Lucas with one of those you-know-what-I'm-talking-about-right? expressions and waited.

[Sareth]

It really didn't matter to me where we landed, or how much difficulty it caused. All I cared about was getting nice, solid, non-mobile ground under my feet. As such, I ignored the conversation between our cheerful guide and Captain Speech Impediment. Instead I turned to Roger and Tovio. "What caliber is your newly acquired play toy?" I asked. "It's possible Roger or I might have a little extra ammo if it's the right caliber. That could tide you over till you get something better." I then turned to Roger before Tovio could even start to formulate an answer, assuming he even knew what the question meant. "So, back there... that latter bunch sounded like they were looking for me, but that first pair... You and the Gewehr have history?"

[DarkIntruder]

"History? You might call it that." Roger answered in a smooth, slightly amused voice. He twirled his mustache as he thought back to what had started this whole ordeal.

"3 years ago I was hired by the Kiyoka Gewehr chapter to do a job. Now, hiring outside help isn't usually like them, but you saw what that group was like. Not a brain among the bunch. Except for their leader. A woman, went by the name of Layla. Hellcat of a girl. She was good. Damn good, even by the Gewerh's standards."

Roger took a couple of steps towards the rail, leading the conversation away from the others. He wasn't too keen on letting that Keyes character hear this. Hell, he wasn't entirely comfortable letting Jamie hear it either. But stuff like this was supposed to be cathartic, at some level. Who knew? Roger just needed to get this off his chest.

"So, I was hired as a bodyguard and escort to this girl, about 18 or so. She was the daughter of some Gewehr boss, in Kiyoka for a vacation. We went down to the market district, shopping and such. Her flouncing along, me staggering after her, weighted down by a mountain of packages." Roger paused and stared out across the sparkling azure water.

"She didn't act the way you'd expect the daughter of a crime boss to act. She wasn't stuck up or snotty. She was spunky, and smart. A little rebellious perhaps, but that was to be expected. We started talking, and it turned out that her father was a dominating wacko. Would hardly let her out of his sight. She managed to wrangle this trip out of him, but since he didn't trust any of the goons from Kiyoka to be able to take care of her, I had been hired. So anyways, I expressed sympathy for her situation, but it seems she wanted more then that. She flirted with me, the mysterious bodyguard, we went out to dinner, talked, and one thing led to another. I know now that she was only using me to get back at her father, but at the time such a thought was the furthest thing from my mind. We ran off to Tsuirakushiti, but her father caught up with us."

He didn't know why he was telling Jamie this, all he knew was that it had to be told, he needed to tell someone.

" I don't know what happened to her, but taken to a dirty fish warehouse back in Kiyoka. They strung me up on a hook in this filthy concrete room, with a big rusty drain in the center. I kept thinking about that drain. What lay beneath. What..."

Roger broke off, lost in thought. Eventually, he heard the sound of a throat being cleared, and recollecting himself, ROger spun to face Jamie.

"So, long story slightly shortened, I escaped. Stowed away on the most disgusting boat imaginable to get back to Farrel. I lay low for three years, but something drew me back to Kiyoka. Don't know what. All I know is that it was a bad fuckin' decision, that almost got me killed, and that I'm never going back again. So, that's my history with the Gewehr. Or, at least the important part anyway."

By this time, Roger had pretty much composed himself again, and flashed a wry smile at Jamie.

"What about you? What nefarious deed did you do to warrant having your brains kicked in in an alleyway by a bunch of dumb thugs?"

[Sareth]

I laughed. "Nothing nearly so dramatic as bedding a crime lord's daughter. I was successful competition. Started cutting into their business." I shrugged. "Oh, and I may have said something insulting about Arty's mating habits in public." I smiled. "Still, that seemed to be enough. Next thing I know, one of them lets slip that they're out to eliminate the competition by attempting to put a knife in my back, and here we are. On a boat. Which I find... unsettling..." *URP* I leaned over the rail, unsure if I was about to lose the war.

[Sareth]

(I feel like moving things along.)

Time passed while I fought my little internal war, eventually winning. What can I say? I'm stubborn. Having done that, I then finally turned to where Captain Lithp and Lucas were still quietly discussing where to make landfall. I stepped over Ayiee and cleared my throat.

"Which is closer?"

"Athuse me?" Keyes asked, turning my way.

"I asked which is closer, your usual landing site? Or the harbor?"

"Well..." Keyes paused, looking at me. "The harbor ith clother. Noding thuidable on thith thide of the thity. Bud the other thide hath thith fithing billij we hath a thtanding agreement with. Muj thafer."

"Thith fithing bill..." I paused and shook my head. Listening to that man too long was a mind and tongue numbing experience. Yet another reason to get of this boat. I tried again. "This fishing villiage, how much further is it?"

"Have a day."

"A day? That long?"

"Have! Have a day!"

"Right. Half a day. That's still half a day too long." I turned to Lucas. "Pay the man and let's go in the harbor."

"Thath not thuch a good idea," Keyes replied before Lucas could give me more than an odd look. "The authorities charge mathive amounts to enter. And they thteal anything they want from the cargo, crew, and pathengers. They even play routh. They thomptimeth like the girl pathengers." Keyes eyes slid to Ayiee. "I can make thom arrangementh. But I hab to pay bribth for the authorityth tho that we ged a dethent inthpecthun team."

Lucas shook his head. "Sounds risky. Why should I pay extra when only a half day's sailing will take us into a safer harbor?"

The ship gave a lurch, and I could feel myself turning a particularly unnatural shade. "Because," I spoke through gritted teeth, "If you don't, I'm gowing below decks and vomiting in you back pack."

There was a moment of silence. "Port Lorrel it is," Lucas said.

[Viking-Sensei]

(OOC - Sorry, Russ, I've gotta borrow Toivo briefly here for reasons that will become apparent shortly)

The Port Lorrel inspection wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been - three red envelope and one blue envelope bribes later and a brief inspection of the ship (nothing capable of passing Mr. Stagpoole's array of protective wards and various enchantments) and they were on their way in.

The friendly nature existing between Tsuiraku and Farrel didn't hurt either - while both were independant soverign nations, their shared border and co-dependancy on one anoher had lead to a golden era of mutual distrust of Veracia, and it made passing through the border of the nations as simple as filing a few papers, most of which Lucas had several blank copies of already packed in his luggage as part of his preparations for the journey.

The guns, however had been a bit of an issue, since there were so many of them and there were bound to raise a few eyebrows - piracy off the coast of Port Lorrel had been a big issue a few years back, and heavily armed groups running the seas never looked terribly good. So, with little time to prepare, Lucas improvised.

"You're a weapons dealer?" The woman behind the counter asked, looking up at the unsuspecting Toivo. "From Tsuiraku?"

Toivo opened the rich leather case (a left-over sample case from one of the hundreds of illegal actual gun-runners that they found int he hold of the ship) and revealed the array of weapon parts, several dismantled guns worth of them, all laid out against the rich purple velvet lining. "Parts, specifically. Magically engineered to exacting specifications and enhanced with targetting and anti-jam spells. They've very popular in Tsuiraku, I've come to see if they will go over nearly as well with the famed manufacturers of Farrel."

"Wholesale arms sales," Lucas said, stepping forward with a folder full of paperwork and another small, colorful envelope, "are obviously illegal, however my client here is obviously an artisan, and is therefore exempt by Clause 45.221 of the Tsuiraku-Farrel Non-Hostility Agreement."

The clerk did a quick background check on Toivo, who had legitimate paperwork, and saw that he had no criminal record worth mentioning. After pulling up and filling out a couple more forms, she stamped his passport and gave him a small card. "You're free to go."

Outside, in an alley a few blocks from the port authority, everyone stopped to put their guns back together. Lucas could see the tax of being unarmed for even a few minutes was making some of his fellows nervous, but didn't want to spoil the effect of their rouse by stopping right outside to reassemble. "Alright, I'm ready to go. " he said. snapping the two halves of his top-breaks back into place and slipping them in his coat. "Let's go find us a hotel."

(OOC - Lucas' guns are based loosely on the looks and specifications of the Webley Revolver Mark VI, a British standard-issue piece from WWI.)

[Sareth]

The urge to kiss the ground had been strong, I admit. Fortunately, the irritation with having to let my pistols be dissassembled had been sufficient to overcome any such urges. As did dealing with how long it took to reassemble everything. I mean, when you have half a dozen pistols...

My mains didn't take too long. Slide the cylinder into place, slide the barrel back on, slip the pin in, put in six rounds, and you were done. Childs play. The deringers, though... In order to convince anyone it was parts, rather than a functioning weapon, it had to be taken down pretty far. No field stripping for that, total dissassembly. Several minutes of swearing later, and I was re-armed.

And hungry. I hadn't eaten the entire voyage, which I had been assured really wasn't all that long, but had felt a lifetime. I thought you were supposed to get over seasickness given enough time. But the cramped conditions, the stifling heat, the horrible, horrible storm with it's high seas...

"Most pleasant sea voyage I've ever taken. The water was like glass," Roger commented pleasantly.

"Dry up and die."

Re-armed, I settled everything back in my heavy, concealing clothing, assuring that nothing formed lumps or peaked out, giving away my armed status. I'd escaped Kiyoka, but I hadn't escaped the Gewehr. This part of the world, those summbiches were everywhere. They were less likely to know my name or face here. I hadn't been cutting into Port Lorrel's Gewehr business, or messing up any of their sideshows (well, there had been a shipment... or three... to Kiyoka), so I was less likely to have any local Gewehr looking for me. But it wouldn't do to not pay attention.

And I'm sure Roger wasn't popular ANYWHERE the Gewehr were. As long as I was in his company, there was a risk the Gewehr might notice our little bunch of vacationers, and any competant Gewehr would be smart enough to check into Roger's companions, evaluating them for risk.

Best to play it safe and keep my eyes peeled and my weapons well oiled.

"Who's up for lunch?"

(OOC) Jamie carries a pair of pistols similar to the Colt Navy, only modified to take .36 cal cartiridges, and four holdout pistols (the Gewehr in Kiyoka had been a bit busy to frisk for them) similar to Derringer

[DarkIntruder]

"Hungry? I would have thought you'd had enough of food, seeing as how yours was nearly in your mouth the entire trip."

Roger slowly replaced the screws that held the shortened pistol grip to the reciever of his shotgun. While it was simple enough to reassemble, the rifle would have to wait.

That had been an unfotunate scene below decks. Roger hadn't wanted to reveal the hardware he was packing, but they needed to smuggle it through the port authorities somehow, so he had grudgingly revealed the beast he had stolen from the Veracian militia during his service. Understandably, the other members were rather taken aback, though Roger had caught a glint of something in Jamie's eye. Envy perhaps, tinged with exhasperation that someone would need a weapon so powerful. Maybe he(?) was right. It wasn't like Roger was planning on taking down any Zeppelins. He didn't have enough ammunition for one thing. Still, it made him feel a little better to have it along.

Removing the stock, reciever, barrel, barrel shroud, bipod, magazines, and small maintenace kit, he proceeded to wrap everything back up in the canvas back that he had been carrying it in back in Kiyoka. On the bright side, the whole thing was more compact in pieces then together. Slinging the entire bag over his shoulder, he turned to the others.

(OOC) Might as well join the bandwagon. Roger carries his shotgun, which is just a sawed-off version of your standard double-barreled one, though of a very early model. His automatic weapon would be similar to the early French light machine gun the Hotchkiss M1909 Benet-Mercie. Unfortunately, he only has one and a half magazines of ammuntion for it.(/OOC)

[Graybeard]

OOC: Firearms aren't exactly my thing, and I hadn't given much thought to what Grope and Layla carry until everyone else started posting about it. Grope, it will be recalled, had a "Thundering Metal Thing" at one point, but he really didn't know how to use it, in fact had only the most rudimentary idea that it needed ammunition. Some of the scenarios possible in Kiyoka might have called for him to attempt to use the thing, probably with humorous results, but he won't go back to town to get it en route to the next phase of his quest, and won't mess around with any other Thundering Metal Things unless the plot forces him to.

Layla, by contrast, is a complete and utter badass when it comes to gunplay, even if I omit the technical details when moving her along. Her preferred weapon is conceptually similar to, although much earlier technology than, the Welrod -- unlike the actual Welrod, a single-shot affair, and nothing to use for extended firefights, but that's not her style, and besides, she has (had) her thugs to do that kind of stuff for her. She keeps it very carefully concealed, and in an earlier version of the events at the farmhouse, she was going to take a shot at Grope with it from most bizarre concealment. There's also at least one rifle along the lines of the Lee-Enfield somewhere in the happy little home outside Kiyoka, used only for defense. Neither of these weapons will accompany her to her next stop on the road; we'll just have to see what the Gewehr supplies her with when she gets there, if anything.

[Sareth]

"Bite me," I muttered, though I couldn't muster any real heat behind it. After all, he really did have a point. And I did feel the tiniest bit guilty about his duster.

At least I'd missed his pack. And that rather fascinating gun of his. I couldn't help but wonder if at some point he'd let me touch it. This was probably not the time to ask.

Instead, I stepped next to him as he hoisted his pack and spoke quietly.

"I'm probably just fine now that I'm away from Kiyoka. But are there going to be problems here for you from our friends? Cause, if so, we may want to make some sort of plans. They find you... they find me. And I'm alergic to pain. It hurts."

"Yeah, I'm thinking a nice, juicy steak sounds good," I said much more loudly, attempting to make it appear that Roger and I were speaking of food.