Heritage: Akoros- Youngest Son of a Noble Background: Academic- Imperial Scholar Vice: Pleasure- Drugs, the more Exotic, the Better
Skills Insight
Hunt-0
Study-2
Survey-0
Tinker-0
Prowess
Finesse- 0
Prowl-1
Skirmish-0
Wreak-0
Resolve
Attune-2
Command-1
Consort-0
Sway-1
Special Abilities
Tempest- Channel energy to produce storm effects (fog, frost, wind, rain, lightning). Costs stress equal to the magnitude of the results (0-6).
Friend: Quellyn, a Witch Enemy: Flint, a spirit trafficker
Background-
Like any youngest child, Artemus grew up spoiled by his mother, ignored by his father, and stuck in his older brothers' shadows. Artemus tried to break free of those restrictions the way any spoiled rich kid would, by partying. He quickly fell into the wrong crowds, got addicted to strong drugs, and many times nearly got himself killed. To protect him, or to just remove him from public view so he couldn't embarrass his family, his parents sent him to the Imperial Academy, to push him towards an education that could be useful towards a profitable career.
Artemus, however, didn't quite listen. Instead of learning skills in engineering, or accounting, or even seek a military career, Artemus took to Occult Studies, a special course to learn the nature and practical uses of spirits, demons, and other arcane energies. Once Artemus's father learned of his choice, he disowned him, cutting off his funds for school and life. But Artemus was already hooked on the subject, and was finding profitable ways to use what he learned to make his own living. He started dealing with Flint, a street spirit trafficker, who was always looking for a steady supply of supernatural goods that the Academy had. The deals got bigger and bigger, but so did Artemus's drug addiction, which grew even more exotic and dangerous as he earned more and more money. Finally, Flint wanted a demon, alive, for a major deal, and needed Artemus to control it. The demon wouldn't have been a problem but Artemus was controlling it while high on Ghost Lotus, which stupor his senses and concentration. Flint was nearly killed and lost an arm when the demon escaped.
During his time at the Academy, Artemus became friends with a witch named Quellyn. She had joined the Occult Studies program under scholarship and was at first a rival to Artemus. The two made top marks in the classes during the first year and from their rivalry came friendship and a budding romance. However, Artemus's drug habit kept Quellyn from accepting him for anything more than a friend, and once she found out about him stealing from the Academy, she nearly cut all ties from him. But their lives changed when the Academy spent a group to The Dagger Isles. Deep in the Jungles, Artemus, Quellyn, and a small group of 11 people in all when deep into the ruins of a ghost city, a place where many spirits "live", completely unaware of their undead state. However, while exploring the ruins, they came across a sealed room. When they opened it, it caused the spirits of the city to become hostile and they attacked the expedition. Artemus got separated from the Quellyn and was thought to be killed, along with 6 other students...
However, years later, Artemus returned to Duskvol. He was tanned, thin, and... broken. He wandered for weeks until he bumped into Quellyn. She had left the Academy after the trip, and used her talents to open a small herb shop. However, debt had forced her to work as a front for Flint, who used her shop to smuggle his goods around Duskvol. Seeing her old friend alive, she took him in but even still he hadn't said how he survived the ghost city. Instead, Artemus said that it was a trap that no one was suppose to survive and that it was just a small piece of a bigger threat coming to Duskvol and all of the Stattered Isles. Artemus, knowing that he couldn't stand idle as the world burned again, found work for the Hawkers as a spirit expert, able to help in their occult artifacts and spirit smuggling operations. Artemus hopes that through the Hawkers, he can spot the next step in the events that
Crew is missing muscle/sneak/a threat that doesn't depend on alchemy or the occult (which are flashy but hardly topple whole gangs).
Course you can just put your points in skirmish/prowl/hunt and take veteran skills from cutter/lurk/hound to compensate instead. Even if you'd lack certain items.
Is the Hunter a good choice for that? I'm sort of vibing on that one.
Crew is missing muscle/sneak/a threat that doesn't depend on alchemy or the occult (which are flashy but hardly topple whole gangs).
Course you can just put your points in skirmish/prowl/hunt and take veteran skills from cutter/lurk/hound to compensate instead. Even if you'd lack certain items.
Is the Hunter a good choice for that? I'm sort of vibing on that one.
Hound can absolutely be that. Guns are effective at murder.
EDIT: Did you need the character sheet for Hound? Don't know if you're working off the book or not.
Crew is missing muscle/sneak/a threat that doesn't depend on alchemy or the occult (which are flashy but hardly topple whole gangs).
Course you can just put your points in skirmish/prowl/hunt and take veteran skills from cutter/lurk/hound to compensate instead. Even if you'd lack certain items.
Is the Hunter a good choice for that? I'm sort of vibing on that one.
Hound can absolutely be that. Guns are effective at murder.
EDIT: Did you need the character sheet for Hound? Don't know if you're working off the book or not.
Cool. Will grab the book today and roll a character.
Okay, so now most of us have a character down lets discuss crew. Gonna barf out the images relevant to getting our Hawkers off the ground so you can contribute even from mobile or whatever.
Also, to make it more interesting I'm going to let lurkers/watchers contribute their suggestions for +1 and -1 status's.
Silver Tongues is a nice generic take because it makes everyone able to take part in typical Hawker missions if you want to focus the game on more social affairs.
I was looking at either Silver Tongues, or The Good Stuff. Cause knowing who we've got an in with on other factions would be a neat asset.
While I think a cohort would be useful, I'm thinking we definitely should have a Workshop and actually a Secure Lair, much rather have some defenses in place if someone comes knocking.
At this point, more curious about who want to be favorable and disfavorable with
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Hail Hydra
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admanbunionize your workplaceSeattle, WARegistered Userregular
I think Phin applies a positive tick to one of the three Crow's Feet gangs (Crows, Lampblacks, Red Sashes) and a negative tick to another one, to represent his past.
I think Phin applies a positive tick to one of the three Crow's Feet gangs (Crows, Lampblacks, Red Sashes) and a negative tick to another one, to represent his past.
Which ones I'm ambivalent about.
Could be fun to have his downside be from the citizens of a wealthy district to represent a group of people who are down on his noble man act.
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admanbunionize your workplaceSeattle, WARegistered Userregular
I don't really see Phin as having any history with the upper classes at this point. I have no doubt the nobles would smell the stink of peasant on him (at least old money would; maybe he could pass with new money) but at the moment I think all of his history is with the gangs.
I don't have any feelings either way, mostly because I don't know the setting much.
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AuralynxDarkness is a perspectiveWatching the ego workRegistered Userregular
I have updated my sheet to something more like what you guys have. +1 to Rail Jacks, -1 Grinders from me, I think. Morlan still has friends at the railways if they knew he was alive, and thinks the Grinders are a bunch of disorganized hooligans with no pride in their work.
I don't have any feelings either way, mostly because I don't know the setting much.
Setting is mutable to an extent (As the lore's still in Beta) just choose a couple low level factions based on their descriptions that'd be cool for us to be on good/bad terms with.
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
I mean, the rules for what the Whisper can do could be interpreted as 'able to rip a house down with his mind' or 'need rituals/cause to do even minor things'. To say the setting is kinda a collection of cliches for the group to bounce of and mold to their needs would not be inaccurate.
EDIT: Also with the more narrative focus of the system would you guys be okay with me playing a PC at times too? Obviously you'd be free to dictate the effect/safety of my rolls.
Okay, time to vomit out my character. She'll be back row/secondary enough that she doesn't need to show up in every score if it becomes a problem:
Lizette Dunvil - Lurk
Heritage: Daughter of a whore (Iruvian only by technicality, father likely Akarosian) +1 survey
Background: Vampire's thrall +1 Attune
Other habits: + 1 Hunt, +1 Skirmish
Vice: Exotic weapons, provided by smugglers in Crows Nest.
Special Abilities:
Shadow: Special Armour vs consequences from stealth. Clear one stress on crits from athletics or sneaking
Buddy: Petra, the clerk who over looks her smuggler's shipments
Rival: Darmont, the Bluecoat she used to date.
Background: Vampires are real, a statement etched into Lizette's mind. Vampires are real, she wasn't foolish enough to think anyone would believe her. Vampires are real and they prey on whoever they want. Lizette had the scar to prove it, a faintly glowing blue star scrawled onto her neck from where she had her life drained. Some of her hairs grey and her face wrinkled past her years. The idiots at the tavern thought it was just the stressful life of a wench in Crow's Foot getting to her. That the night when she'd finally put a bullet in that infernal creature's chest she was losing it. Lizette knew better, Vampires are real and next time he came back she'd be ready. Wealthy and well armed off of her criminal contacts. After all, it seemed the only thing less believable than Vampires for these dolts was that wench's could steal.
Appearance: Tanned skin, black hair going grey in spots, heavy bags under her brown eyes and a distinct, glowing mark on her neck she obscures with a scarf at all times.
I'll trust you guys to manage your own character sheets. I'll just note any complications/damage OOC at the end of posts. Also to keep the game running faster when I'm not around I'm fine with you guys setting the risk and effect levels for your rolls. I'll reign you in if you're too lenient. Remember to consider that you're a T0 gang with appropriate equipment.
Davies had been certain that Crow's Nest's latest gang scuffles were perfect. That the war between the Red Sashes and Lampblacks left plenty of opportunity to get the gang's product out onto the street. Muscle a little turf for their trade. Secure the suppliers under their thumb and retire comfortably with a consistent income. Davies had always been one to think big and convince others to join him on his escapades.
Now Davies was dead, his body floating in the Dusk River with a bullet wound in his neck. He'd being trying to peddle to some Lampblacks when a Red Sash raid occured. The Red Sashes hadn't being big fans of the words 'neutral party'. The starry lights below the void black surface of the River swirling around him. As if to claim his corpse for their own, unknown desires. Not that it would get any such luck, a deathseeker crow's caw breaking the bleak quiet of early morn while the ever dutiful Spirit Warden's rowed a small boat out to retrieve the corpse before Davies's spirit could break free and become a ghost to cause yet more trouble in Crow's Nest. The flickering light of their boat's lantern reflecting off the dull bronze of their masks as they carried out their duty.
Lizette was perched on the river's edge looking down at the scene with the rest of the gang. Skipping out on cleaning up the tavern for her morning shifts to pay her respects. The lithe, tanned woman never one to show too much emotion as she bluntly commented "Davies was the one who provided all our supplies, we'll need to figure out which of his contacts was the cook," before pulling out a smoke from her sleeve. She always seemed to have one tucked away for when stress or worry was biting at her and right now there was a small laundry list. Davies knew who the cook was, the Red Sashes just made it clear what the stakes were around here, they didn't have the funds to secure the next shipment and they didn't have anywhere to sell their product in the first place now the deal with the Lampblacks had fallen through. Heck, she thought to herself, the Lampblacks probably think it was our plot to have the Red Sashes show up. Never mind, Lizette was sure Travis already had a plan in mind. He'd always seemed to be the brains behind Davie's dreams after all.
So that's the set up. For the first score the options are:
1) Robbery
2) Get some turf from someone
3) Secure supply, either by finding the cook or stealing it off of another gang.
Oh also, to keep the Momentum rolling you're going to start with a clock straight away:
Limited Supply: X X - - - -
X's are filled bits of the clock -'s are empty bits. You probably don't want to leave off figuring out supply issues till drug addicts are banging at your door
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AuralynxDarkness is a perspectiveWatching the ego workRegistered Userregular
Looks like we're rolling. Silver Tongues, Hidden Lair, Workshop are the choices we made for traits, or at least the ones everyone seemed fairly happy with;
I don't think we picked a primary contact - I'm gonna throw Huxley, the Smuggler out here but he doesn't have to be the main guy.
Morlan
Morlan got out his knife and idly cut a lime in half, sucking at the juices from one hunk and offering the other to anyone else. He stands upwind of Lizette's cigarette smoke, staring out at the river.
"Are we sure we want to stick with Davies' supplier? We might be better off finding a new guy, or maybe new product. Huxley probably knows someone; one of us might, too. The trouble's going to be persuading them to get in business with us; we haven't got a lot of leverage."
Well, this should be a nobrainer; drugs keep the lights on, so expansion and vengeance shall have to take a back seat
Tarvis
Tarvis spat out the bit of fingernail he'd been worrying at since things had quieted down. Davies had been the face of the operation. Friendly, outgoing; Davies was quick to make friends. Not that he was soft, no there were definitely thorns hidden behind all his rose petals.
Without Davies to work up the big ideas and glad hand the peasants, it would seem that Tarvis would have to assume a more forward-facing position.
"We'll obviously have to pay the Sashes back. Establish that no one trifles with us since we want to work with everyone." The tattered but regal man bristled as he cracked his knuckles before continuing, "I am afraid though, before we do that, we must ensure our supplies of Black Dream are secured. We need to find the cook and make sure our arrangements survive Davies' untimely demise. To that end, we may wish to return the shop to start planning. Anyone who wants to stand vigil over Davies is free to so, naturally." He gave their compatriot one last long gaze before turning to start back towards their front, tugging his coat about him to guard against the typically Duskvolian chill.
Matev on
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Hail Hydra
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admanbunionize your workplaceSeattle, WARegistered Userregular
fyi, attire-wise I'm picturing Phin in something very similar to this:
It's tailored and very well cared for, but of course it's the only one he has, so if the style or season changed (not that seasons are much of a concern in Duskvol) he'd immediately look out of date.
Phin
Phin idly fiddled with his shirt cuffs with one hand -- his hat in his other hand, so as to be respectful -- as he watched the Spirit Wardens hook the body of Davies and drag it into their boat.
"Aye," he said to Tarvis, "our priority is our product. With product we're a business, without we're--" he sneered, "--just thugs."
He put his hat back on and gave one last tip towards Davies before turning on his heel and striding after Tarvis.
Lizette sneered at the comment. Idly snarking to herself "damn good thugs," before she hopped down from her perch. Glancing over to the others and commenting "I'll be at the tavern if you need me, working like usual, some venture this has turned out to be,"
Artemus watched the clean up with interest. He had seen many dead bodies over the years, and even spoke to their ghosts later on. But the Spirit Warden were always interesting, conceding that they and he were opposite sides of the same coin. "We shouldn't throw all our spooks into one jar. Finding Davies' cook means we reconnect with our supplier, but we could avoid being in these messes if we find other cooks at the same time. So... how do we want to start? I think we should start at Davies' place. Maybe he's got a note or something that might say something important."
"This gun wound. It is amateur. Davies my old friend. Who would have thought that you would die at hands of hack?"
Volstrom stroked his beard in thought and continued: "Yes, Artemus. But when people hear about this, people might come to Davie's den. See what they can get. Might already have come and gone. We should approach carefully. Could be hot situation."
Posts
Background: Academic- Imperial Scholar
Vice: Pleasure- Drugs, the more Exotic, the Better
Skills
Insight
Hunt-0
Study-2
Survey-0
Tinker-0
Prowess
Finesse- 0
Prowl-1
Skirmish-0
Wreak-0
Resolve
Attune-2
Command-1
Consort-0
Sway-1
Special Abilities
Tempest- Channel energy to produce storm effects (fog, frost, wind, rain, lightning). Costs stress equal to the magnitude of the results (0-6).
Friend: Quellyn, a Witch
Enemy: Flint, a spirit trafficker
Background-
Artemus, however, didn't quite listen. Instead of learning skills in engineering, or accounting, or even seek a military career, Artemus took to Occult Studies, a special course to learn the nature and practical uses of spirits, demons, and other arcane energies. Once Artemus's father learned of his choice, he disowned him, cutting off his funds for school and life. But Artemus was already hooked on the subject, and was finding profitable ways to use what he learned to make his own living. He started dealing with Flint, a street spirit trafficker, who was always looking for a steady supply of supernatural goods that the Academy had. The deals got bigger and bigger, but so did Artemus's drug addiction, which grew even more exotic and dangerous as he earned more and more money. Finally, Flint wanted a demon, alive, for a major deal, and needed Artemus to control it. The demon wouldn't have been a problem but Artemus was controlling it while high on Ghost Lotus, which stupor his senses and concentration. Flint was nearly killed and lost an arm when the demon escaped.
During his time at the Academy, Artemus became friends with a witch named Quellyn. She had joined the Occult Studies program under scholarship and was at first a rival to Artemus. The two made top marks in the classes during the first year and from their rivalry came friendship and a budding romance. However, Artemus's drug habit kept Quellyn from accepting him for anything more than a friend, and once she found out about him stealing from the Academy, she nearly cut all ties from him. But their lives changed when the Academy spent a group to The Dagger Isles. Deep in the Jungles, Artemus, Quellyn, and a small group of 11 people in all when deep into the ruins of a ghost city, a place where many spirits "live", completely unaware of their undead state. However, while exploring the ruins, they came across a sealed room. When they opened it, it caused the spirits of the city to become hostile and they attacked the expedition. Artemus got separated from the Quellyn and was thought to be killed, along with 6 other students...
However, years later, Artemus returned to Duskvol. He was tanned, thin, and... broken. He wandered for weeks until he bumped into Quellyn. She had left the Academy after the trip, and used her talents to open a small herb shop. However, debt had forced her to work as a front for Flint, who used her shop to smuggle his goods around Duskvol. Seeing her old friend alive, she took him in but even still he hadn't said how he survived the ghost city. Instead, Artemus said that it was a trap that no one was suppose to survive and that it was just a small piece of a bigger threat coming to Duskvol and all of the Stattered Isles. Artemus, knowing that he couldn't stand idle as the world burned again, found work for the Hawkers as a spirit expert, able to help in their occult artifacts and spirit smuggling operations. Artemus hopes that through the Hawkers, he can spot the next step in the events that
Is the Hunter a good choice for that? I'm sort of vibing on that one.
Or someone who consorts with cultists and demons.
Or someone who just makes good alchemy and half the poor people she serves think it's magic, not science.
Or a bit of both.
Hound can absolutely be that. Guns are effective at murder.
EDIT: Did you need the character sheet for Hound? Don't know if you're working off the book or not.
Cool. Will grab the book today and roll a character.
Also, to make it more interesting I'm going to let lurkers/watchers contribute their suggestions for +1 and -1 status's.
While I think a cohort would be useful, I'm thinking we definitely should have a Workshop and actually a Secure Lair, much rather have some defenses in place if someone comes knocking.
At this point, more curious about who want to be favorable and disfavorable with
Which ones I'm ambivalent about.
Could be fun to have his downside be from the citizens of a wealthy district to represent a group of people who are down on his noble man act.
What do you think of Lydra as our favourite contact? Good to have a deal broker...
+1 to the Gondoliers
I helped them out with a serial killer who was targeting lone boatsmen.
-1 To the Imperial Military
I've served in the military and don't approve of their methods.
Introducing Volstrom Hephnir
-1, sure, the Lampblacks, those shiftless bums never did nothing for us.
Setting is mutable to an extent (As the lore's still in Beta) just choose a couple low level factions based on their descriptions that'd be cool for us to be on good/bad terms with.
EDIT: Also with the more narrative focus of the system would you guys be okay with me playing a PC at times too? Obviously you'd be free to dictate the effect/safety of my rolls.
Lizette Dunvil - Lurk
Heritage: Daughter of a whore (Iruvian only by technicality, father likely Akarosian) +1 survey
Background: Vampire's thrall +1 Attune
Other habits: + 1 Hunt, +1 Skirmish
Vice: Exotic weapons, provided by smugglers in Crows Nest.
Special Abilities:
Shadow: Special Armour vs consequences from stealth. Clear one stress on crits from athletics or sneaking
Skills:
Insight: 2
Hunt: 1
Study: 0
Suvery: 1
Tinker: 0
Prowess: 3
Finesse: 1
Prowl: 2
Skirmish: 1
Wreck: 0
Resolve: 1
Attune: 1
Command: 0
Consort: 0
Sway: 0
Buddy: Petra, the clerk who over looks her smuggler's shipments
Rival: Darmont, the Bluecoat she used to date.
Background: Vampires are real, a statement etched into Lizette's mind. Vampires are real, she wasn't foolish enough to think anyone would believe her. Vampires are real and they prey on whoever they want. Lizette had the scar to prove it, a faintly glowing blue star scrawled onto her neck from where she had her life drained. Some of her hairs grey and her face wrinkled past her years. The idiots at the tavern thought it was just the stressful life of a wench in Crow's Foot getting to her. That the night when she'd finally put a bullet in that infernal creature's chest she was losing it. Lizette knew better, Vampires are real and next time he came back she'd be ready. Wealthy and well armed off of her criminal contacts. After all, it seemed the only thing less believable than Vampires for these dolts was that wench's could steal.
Appearance: Tanned skin, black hair going grey in spots, heavy bags under her brown eyes and a distinct, glowing mark on her neck she obscures with a scarf at all times.
I'm slightly drunk right now.
Ask me anything about the horrible secrets of DuskVol.
Same, just off this week and not on the forums much. Still good to go on this if we get the ball rolling.
I'll trust you guys to manage your own character sheets. I'll just note any complications/damage OOC at the end of posts. Also to keep the game running faster when I'm not around I'm fine with you guys setting the risk and effect levels for your rolls. I'll reign you in if you're too lenient. Remember to consider that you're a T0 gang with appropriate equipment.
Davies had been certain that Crow's Nest's latest gang scuffles were perfect. That the war between the Red Sashes and Lampblacks left plenty of opportunity to get the gang's product out onto the street. Muscle a little turf for their trade. Secure the suppliers under their thumb and retire comfortably with a consistent income. Davies had always been one to think big and convince others to join him on his escapades.
Now Davies was dead, his body floating in the Dusk River with a bullet wound in his neck. He'd being trying to peddle to some Lampblacks when a Red Sash raid occured. The Red Sashes hadn't being big fans of the words 'neutral party'. The starry lights below the void black surface of the River swirling around him. As if to claim his corpse for their own, unknown desires. Not that it would get any such luck, a deathseeker crow's caw breaking the bleak quiet of early morn while the ever dutiful Spirit Warden's rowed a small boat out to retrieve the corpse before Davies's spirit could break free and become a ghost to cause yet more trouble in Crow's Nest. The flickering light of their boat's lantern reflecting off the dull bronze of their masks as they carried out their duty.
Lizette was perched on the river's edge looking down at the scene with the rest of the gang. Skipping out on cleaning up the tavern for her morning shifts to pay her respects. The lithe, tanned woman never one to show too much emotion as she bluntly commented "Davies was the one who provided all our supplies, we'll need to figure out which of his contacts was the cook," before pulling out a smoke from her sleeve. She always seemed to have one tucked away for when stress or worry was biting at her and right now there was a small laundry list. Davies knew who the cook was, the Red Sashes just made it clear what the stakes were around here, they didn't have the funds to secure the next shipment and they didn't have anywhere to sell their product in the first place now the deal with the Lampblacks had fallen through. Heck, she thought to herself, the Lampblacks probably think it was our plot to have the Red Sashes show up. Never mind, Lizette was sure Travis already had a plan in mind. He'd always seemed to be the brains behind Davie's dreams after all.
1) Robbery
2) Get some turf from someone
3) Secure supply, either by finding the cook or stealing it off of another gang.
Oh also, to keep the Momentum rolling you're going to start with a clock straight away:
Limited Supply: X X - - - -
X's are filled bits of the clock -'s are empty bits. You probably don't want to leave off figuring out supply issues till drug addicts are banging at your door
I don't think we picked a primary contact - I'm gonna throw Huxley, the Smuggler out here but he doesn't have to be the main guy.
Morlan
Morlan got out his knife and idly cut a lime in half, sucking at the juices from one hunk and offering the other to anyone else. He stands upwind of Lizette's cigarette smoke, staring out at the river.
"Are we sure we want to stick with Davies' supplier? We might be better off finding a new guy, or maybe new product. Huxley probably knows someone; one of us might, too. The trouble's going to be persuading them to get in business with us; we haven't got a lot of leverage."
He looks over at Tarvis expectantly.
Tarvis
Tarvis spat out the bit of fingernail he'd been worrying at since things had quieted down. Davies had been the face of the operation. Friendly, outgoing; Davies was quick to make friends. Not that he was soft, no there were definitely thorns hidden behind all his rose petals.
Without Davies to work up the big ideas and glad hand the peasants, it would seem that Tarvis would have to assume a more forward-facing position.
"We'll obviously have to pay the Sashes back. Establish that no one trifles with us since we want to work with everyone." The tattered but regal man bristled as he cracked his knuckles before continuing, "I am afraid though, before we do that, we must ensure our supplies of Black Dream are secured. We need to find the cook and make sure our arrangements survive Davies' untimely demise. To that end, we may wish to return the shop to start planning. Anyone who wants to stand vigil over Davies is free to so, naturally." He gave their compatriot one last long gaze before turning to start back towards their front, tugging his coat about him to guard against the typically Duskvolian chill.
It's tailored and very well cared for, but of course it's the only one he has, so if the style or season changed (not that seasons are much of a concern in Duskvol) he'd immediately look out of date.
Phin
Phin idly fiddled with his shirt cuffs with one hand -- his hat in his other hand, so as to be respectful -- as he watched the Spirit Wardens hook the body of Davies and drag it into their boat.
"Aye," he said to Tarvis, "our priority is our product. With product we're a business, without we're--" he sneered, "--just thugs."
He put his hat back on and gave one last tip towards Davies before turning on his heel and striding after Tarvis.
Artemus watched the clean up with interest. He had seen many dead bodies over the years, and even spoke to their ghosts later on. But the Spirit Warden were always interesting, conceding that they and he were opposite sides of the same coin. "We shouldn't throw all our spooks into one jar. Finding Davies' cook means we reconnect with our supplier, but we could avoid being in these messes if we find other cooks at the same time. So... how do we want to start? I think we should start at Davies' place. Maybe he's got a note or something that might say something important."
"This gun wound. It is amateur. Davies my old friend. Who would have thought that you would die at hands of hack?"
Volstrom stroked his beard in thought and continued: "Yes, Artemus. But when people hear about this, people might come to Davie's den. See what they can get. Might already have come and gone. We should approach carefully. Could be hot situation."
"Then we should move quickly. Last thing we need is some rats or worst getting in there and trashing the place."