Legend of Ransera

Posted: **Thu Feb 03, 2022 10:35 pm**

No fear? She was teasing him. They both knew that was not true, and even though it was just a game, Franky felt his pride a bit sullied and a moment of angry annoyance flared up at the disrespect. Fear was not a thing to be mocked, he was not some young pup of a soldier anymore. She knew more than probably every other person, aside from himself, exactly what he'd gone through in the Imperium. What he'd done and had to do. What he'd given up and sacrificed.

He huffed in annoyance out of his nostrils. He could see she was playing his emotions like a Grackle's tinny fiddle, but he couldn't stop it. He tried to stuff it down as he listened to her lead into a story... of spiders? Spiders? As a concept? No, he did not know that one. He took a stiff drink from his flagon as he listened, if only to sate that temper of his that she was goading out. And he put every word to memory. Stories were sacred to Franky, and these ones were of concepts as vast and deep as the ocean of stars overhead. It was a strange story, Franky wasn't sure why she was telling it. It sounded almost as if it were a fable, to teach a lesson perhaps, a piece of advice.

He hadn't the slightest idea how it pertained to the current moment. Was she suggesting that she's the spider here? Was the metaphor so surface level? If he followed her, he would find secrets and answers? But Franky had no desire for secrets, and hadn't any questions he needed answering. At least, he was pretty sure he didn't. Still, follow the spiders for answers to secrets. Easy enough advice, if that was the advice, he supposed.

Still, it sparked a curiosity in the back of his mind to know more about this. What wish was in his heart, truly?

But the game was back afoot, and this time it was Franky's turn to grin. And it slit his face wide, a feral grin, full of the sharp, pointed teeth that often was a give away for him to not be an Ork like so many confused him for. A vice of his choosing. He heard her offer up booze and drugs, but he suspected that those were too obvious, and probably things she would excel at. No, he had something much more... interesting.

"If you don't mind waiting but a moment..." He emptied his flagon and raised it up. As Weston came over, "Can you round up a Moratallen Special for my friend here?"

Franky grabbed the Sangen whiskey and refilled his flagon himself, already feeling his heart beating loudly in his ears. It was a strong drink and he was partaking quite enthusiastically. He offered to top off Veronica's as well. It wasn't long until the chef and soux chef came out of the kitchen, a massive platter balanced over their heads by their four arms. They set it upon the bar, smiling broadly at the woman, "We love women with big appetites!" Before returning back to arguing over nothing as Weston herded them back into the kitchen.

Upon the platter, a full roasted turkey, a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes with melted butter and gravy, a platter of sauteed cabbages and Haqsi Sprouts, and the entire Hob Cobbler originally ordered, minus the bit she had ordered earlier. "The vice is gluttony."

And with that, Franky leaned back on his hip bones in his stool, feeling a bit smug at his choice, sipping at the smoky whiskey.

Posted: **Sat Feb 26, 2022 2:22 pm**

P A R A G O N

Veronica eyed the platter as it was set down in front of her. She leaned in, breathing in the delicious scents of food that had been cooked to utter perfection. She picked up a spoon, dipped it into the mashed potatoes and took a scoop into her mouth. A low moan of pleasure came from her as she savored the taste. Propping her elbows up she let the spoon dangle from her fingers as she swallowed then looked over at Franky.

“Clever, Franky. Very clever.” She stared him down for a beat of silence before breaking out into a laugh. “It seems you’ve bested me! All of this rich food? Far too much for me alone to eat. Besides, a working girl can’t be weighed down too much.”

She winked at Franky before picking up some of the cabbage and eating a bit. She motioned to the Hobgoblin.

“Please, join me. You win.” Picking up her glass she topped herself off and then sipped at the whiskey while staring at Franky over the rim of the glass. “So, name your winnings.”

There was an edge of excitement in Veronica’s eyes as she studied Franky. Her attention was focused on him, waiting, listening to hear what it was that the Hobgoblin would ask of her.

Posted: **Sun Feb 27, 2022 12:19 pm**

Franky took a moment, one singular moment of enjoying his win. His pride swelled and he smiled a bit. But just as quickly as that moment came, it passed, and Franky remembered both himself and this situation he found himself in. Veronica offered him to join her and he did. He carved out some turkey and the trimmings for himself, placing upon a plate that Weston had brought out, the man always vigilant and mindful, even if he had no idea what was going on. Franky did not eat yet, holding up his drink, "To a game well played, and a competitor most worthy."

But Franky knew that there was more to her visit than simply playing a game. After all, she had researched him, and while that was part of her job, there was still purpose behind it. Franky had no desire to gloat, after all, there was more to this, more to find out, and more to gain. But she had asked for his winnings, and Franky's mind was bring forth an idea. One he'd been mulling on, one he'd considered for a far off future. But perhaps he could bring it closer to the present. It was both a big ask and yet almost nothing at all.

He looked over at Veronica, giving her the respect of looking her in the eyes as he named his prize. "When I call for it, I want to receive an invitation bearing the Emperor's Seal to meet with the Goblin King."

He knew she would be able to get that, Inquisitors acted on behalf of the Emperor and were, effectively, acting as the Emperor, who couldn't be everywhere at once. He took a long drink from his flagon, pulling his plate of food closer. He worked a small bit of everything upon his fork before putting it in his mouth, giving Veronica time to respond to this. Maybe he'd asked for too much. Too little? The balancing act was difficult, and he had no means of knowing everything he'd need to know. A grin on his face as he finished his bite, though, a delicious bite, his chefs always amazing him.

"You've come a long way. I offer you our finest room for the night, if you'd like." His voice inflected that he was leading into something else, as he spoke a bit lackadaisically, "And we will always accommodate you while you're in Zaichaer, as you see fit." After all, she was a reminder that the Imperium's reach knew no bounds, not that he was hiding. His eyes slid over to find hers once more, a hardened look there, an echo of the man he was when he was in active service of his country.

"Ask of me what you would, had you won and I will say yes, Veronica."

This statement was risky, he knew it. It was a much larger gamble than the game they had just played. He was having her ask, instead of telling him. He was treating her as an equal, instead of a superior. He was offering something and asking for nothing. It was a risk, one he was willing to make, knowing the consequences could be dire. But it was an opportunity to gain more power and influence in a single stroke than an entire lifetime of military service had provided. He may not be in the military any longer, he may not be in the Imperium any longer. He might be retired and free to do and to be whatever it was that he wanted.

But Major Frankorg, the Butcher of Bekari, the man who put duty and country over love, over dreams, over one's own life and fortune, was no coward.

"What say you?"

Posted: **Wed Mar 02, 2022 7:37 pm**

P A R A G O N

Veronica’s face revealed nothing of her internal thoughts to Franky as he claimed his prize. Without breaking eye contact, she reached into her belt and withdrew what appeared to be a playing card. She slid it over to Franky without a word. As it sat there, she took a sip of her drink, her gaze still locked on to the Hobgoblin until he picked up the card. The back of it was ordinary but upon picking it up, the face of the card revealed black card with the Ace of Spades done in white. Resting at the heart of the center most spade was a red spider. She ran a hand through her hair, the picture of ease.

“Deliver that to the nearest Cathedral Scribe. Tell them what you want. You’ll get your invitation.” Almost as an afterthought she added, “Oh, and when you do see Old Cointosser, tell him I haven't forgotten.”

Veronica quirked a brow as Franky made his offer. She considered him before a smile spread across her face. Picking up a fork, she slid a more sturdy glass over to herself. Gently she tapped the fork on the side of the glass so that five crystal clear chimes sounded throughout the bar. Without missing a beat, people in the tavern began rising from their seats. Their conversations continuing as though nothing were amiss. Money was left on tables. Friends continued to laugh as they drew on their coats and put their hats back on their heads. Meals were scarfed down and ales were finished. Generous tips were left for the serving staff as people left the tavern in a wave in a jovial fashion. The old man whom Veronica had made a center of attention for the evening, shuffled up and kissed her squarely on the cheek. She ran a finger under his chin and returned the kiss before playfully shoving him back into the waiting arms of some newfound friends. Even people whom were occupying rooms came from within them, tugging on their jackets and talking eagerly about going out to enjoy a night on the town. When the final person stepped out of the door, the room was empty except for Franky’s staff…and three others.

Each of them dressed as humbly and simply as her. To look at them one never would have guessed they were affiliated with the Inquisitor. A woman and two men. She extended a hand and the woman brought her a wine glass. Veronica grasped it in nimble fingers. As she held the glass, the woman poured a bright red wine into the glass without spilling a single drop. Setting the fork down, Veronica propped an elbow up on the bar and rest her chin in her hand.

“Now we can have a real conversation.” She took a sip from the wine. “Before I speak, who among your staff do you trust implicitly?”

Posted: **Wed Mar 02, 2022 10:12 pm**

Franky watched as she produced a card, passing it his way, her face entirely unreadable and impassive to him. He felt her gaze, it was effortless and yet heavy. He reached out, grasping the card, feeling its heft. It was heavier than a tarot or playing card of the same sign. And something about that weight affirmed the importance of it, of the gesture. Of his win, one he wasn't sure he'd earned, or was made to believe he'd earned. Maybe it was a test of his loyalty to the Imperium in his retirement.

He turned it over, seeing the spidery ace of spades. Follow the spiders, the story she'd told earlier. Was it a warning? Was it a suggestion, something bigger? It was all so much. He listened to her instructions, even arched an eyebrow at the Old Cointosser nickname and casual nature of it all. Casual. That was everything about this exchange. Casual. And that was intentional, it had to be.

After all, she was a Bishop.

She was casual because that was the role being played here. This was a tavern after all. She wasn't here to guide him or warn him, no. Because of course she wasn't. She was here to either solve a problem the Imperium was having or further the Imperium's interests. Or both. And Franky knew that he wasn't the problem here. Not because he'd been careful or reckless or dangerous. But because in his retirement, he'd been observant and being 'just a bartender'.

So she let him win, to use him, to further the Imperium's own interests. Perhaps the game was the test of loyalty, and if he failed to offer to help, she would've forced the issue. Of all this, Franky was absolutely convinced. Franky flipped the card around in his fingers, before slipping it into his shirt pocket. Franky could work with this. A slight tug at the corner of his mouth, the beginnings of an upturned grin, a failed poker face that he was not trying to hide.

"Thank you. I'll be sure to remind him."

Then Franky watched as she tapped the glass and his confidence was shattered just as the nature of the bar was shattered. Everyone began to exit the bar, but in their own personal and natural ways. All at once. Franky had never seen the bar empty out in this fashion and he knew it was unnatural. She was displaying her strength or her skill or her magic. She was showing just what she was capable of, and thereby, showing what she hadn't needed to do to Franky.

Franky looked around, seeing his staff, seeing three others, people he didn't recognize, nondescript, unsure if they'd been here before or not. Her people. Because of course she came with help. It made sense. At her question, though, Franky saw an opportunity to right himself, no seize control of the situation but at least some of himself. He raised a hand, and Weston, having been keeping his eye out from across the bar. He came over, leaning in close to Franky. Franky didn't turn toward Weston, speaking in a normal voice, staring at Veronica as he spoke, "You and the staff have a goodnight. I'll clean up."

Weston nodded obediently, "Yes sir."

Franky raised a hand, "Weston, wait." Weston turned, "Yes, sir?"

"The Cathenan 12."

A slight grin on Weston's face, "Yes, sir."

He was quick to round them all up, making sure to tell everyone they'd still be paid for the full shift. And in a few moments, Franky was there, willfully alone, seated before one of the most dangerous people from the Imperium and her subordinates, a bottle of wine over a hundred years old, cork popped, airing out between them.

"None."

Franky reached out, grabbing the bottle, pouring into the first of the crystal goblets that Weston had placed with it, a deep, near black purple wine. It left a lingering scent in the air of apricot flowers, morning dew, and that warmth of a sunrise over the vineyard it was vinted from.

"What did you wish to talk about, Veronica?"

He poured the wine into the second goblet, plucking it up for himself, holding it between the two of them.

"Apologies, there's not enough for your friends."

Then he took a slow sip of the wine, a grin stretching across his face, eyes on Veronica.

Posted: **Wed Mar 02, 2022 11:47 pm**

P A R A G O N

She spared no glance to Weston or the rest of Franky’s staff as they left. When they had departed, she made a slight gesture with her hand and her three compatriots dispersed. Undoubtedly to patrol the area and ensure the tavern was empty of any eavesdroppers. She raised her own glass, joining Franky in his sip. As they lowered their respective glasses, she reached into a pouch on her hip and withdrew a small piece of paper, no bigger than the palm of the hand. She set it upon the bar and slid it over to Franky. It was a map of the territory of Zaichaer. She tapped her finger upon one of the southernmost townships.

“There is a plan that has been set in motion. One that has been carefully coordinated since last Glade. Set to come to fruition in the early parts of this coming Glade. Zaichaer has enlisted the assistance of a group of particularly ruthless southern sky pirates. This has been done to assist them in a rather delicate operation. Upon the conclusion of this operation, they are making arrangements to rendezvous in the southernmost point of Zaichaer’s territory, in a facility they believe to be off the records.” Veronica took another sip of her wine. A slight smirk tugged at her lips. She took out a pencil and circled the spot on the small map.

“If all goes successful, the pirates will be carrying cargo that is intended to tip the scales of power here in the Northlands. A means by which, if they can master it, gain supremacy in all of Karnor…and even beyond that.” She ran a hand through her hair, smoothing back some of the strands that had fallen into her face. She let the gravity of her statement settle upon Franky.

Veronica set her pencil down.

“The pirates will fail in their delivery.”

Veronica rubbed a thumb on the edge of her wine glass. Her expression was pinched. There was a hard set to her jaw.

“The aftermath of that failure will be…quite the spectacle. That will be where you come in.” She picked up her glass and sipped her win. “Supplies. At least two weeks worth. Enough to support twelve. No more. No less.”

Picking up her pencil, she wrote down the address of a few different supply vendors.

“Purchase of the materials should be done there.” She wrote down a final address. “Purchase of transportation for the materials should be done there. Stagger your purchases.”

Sitting back, she eyed Franky.

“Do this, and you will have been instrumental in ensuring the success of Imperial Mandate.” She left unsaid the fact that in so doing, Franky would then be eligible to receive the support that comes with the successful completion of said Mandate.

“What say you, Franky?”

Posted: **Thu Mar 03, 2022 12:02 am**

Franky listened closely, as he always did. He paid attention and gave respect when others spoke, Bishop or barmaid, it mattered not to him. But as he listened his brain was working, taking in this information, utilizing his training and experience in the Imperial Army, utilizing the experience he'd gained here. He was not surprised by any of this, he knew what the Imperium was capable of, he'd partaken in it many a times in the past.

Big change, a tipping of the scales of power, were always tumultuous events. And would ultimately open up opportunity after opportunity. But even more so, it might be helpful to have a favor of the Bishop and the Imperium in his back pocket. After all, even at face value, he'd won the Invitation. And he watched her as she spoke. He watched her fidget with her wine glass, he saw her face pinch, he saw the tension in her jaw. She was likely faking it, but maybe, just maybe this was a glean of sincerity shining through.

This wasn't just another operation to gain an inch, this was big, this was important, to her, which made it important to the Emperor.

A soft chuckle, and Franky raised the goblet to his lips, finding the wine taste that much sweeter. Maybe this was why he left the military after all. He looked Veronica in the eyes, "I'll see what I can do." It was a bit mercurial in selection of words, but the glint in his eyes, that tell of his in the corner of his lips, that slight upturn, it was more of an affirmation than if he'd said 'yes'.

He finished his goblet, "Stop by anytime you're in town. There are plenty more games we could play, drinks we could share."

Posted: **Fri Mar 04, 2022 10:28 am**

P A R A G O N

Veronica finished her glass of wine. She smiled at Franky.

“I look forward to it, Franky.” Sliding out of her seat, she set a box marked with the smiling face of a Goblin with a tilted crown and a cigar sticking out of its mouth. Gelerian Hobgrass wasn’t the finest tobacco made but it was difficult to find outside of the Imperium. It was pungent and strong but had a warming effect that helped calm rattled nerves. Tradition among some squadrons held that the mission commander would give one to the leader of the unit upon their return from a mission. Most special forces units comprised at least twelve soldiers that could be deployed on short notice to specific missions. Gelerian Hobgrass was sold in packs of twelve. The number of rolls left behind were meant to give a quick headcount of those lost to the mission. The pack was then burned in honor of those lost while the survivors lit their own in memoriam.

“Make sure they get it. Please.” For the first time in their conversation, a note of sincerity entered Veronica’s voice. There was a genuine pleading in her eyes as the weight of her role as mission commander shone through. The giving of this pack to Franky meant she knew that there was a high likelihood that most on the mission…would not come back alive.

With that, Veronica made her way out of the tavern and into the night.

Off Topic

Franky
XP: +10, not for magic.
Lore(s):
Etiquette: Giving the proper Imperial greeting
Resistance: Vodka soaked watermelon
Spycraft: Speaking in a lesser known language to reduce detection
Spycraft - Contact: Veronica, Inquistor Bishop of the Imperium
Gambling - Game: Fool's Gambit
Gambling: Using an exchange of servitude as prizes
Resistance: Sangen Bourbon
Storytelling: The Tale of the Battle of Chanterelle Shanty
Spycraft: Bishop Veronica served in the war with the Sangen Federation
Spycraft: Bishop Veronica knows the Goblin King personally
Storytelling: The Tale of the Origin of Spiders
Gambling: Setting an impossible task in Fool's Gambit
Spycraft: Offering a favor when it isn't asked for
Resistance: Cathenan 12 Red Wine

Loot:
+1 Ace of Spiders, given to signify the favor owed
+1 Pack of Gelerian Hobgrass cigarettes
+1 Small tactical map with addresses of importance written

Legend of Ransera

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Re: Melons, Gourds, and a Singles' Night (Open)

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Re: Melons, Gourds, and a Singles' Night (Open)

Re: Melons, Gourds, and a Singles' Night (Open)