NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is a comic/strait character RP. Normal tech please. Uber tech may be allowed with permission from me (TG please)

Huh, strait and comic you might ask? Well, we have Ommpa Loompas, they are inherited from one of my regional neighbors who uses them to make candy (Willy Wonka Fan, I suppose). And we will have a good number of players in the FKC who like dark comedy.

It is a treasure hunt, for the diamonds, I have a location of the diamond fields marked on my map. It is the character’s job to find them. Information on the location is limited, so no torching a native village and then finding out about the diamond location. You might find other deposits if you are way off. (Torch the village if you want, just don’t assume all the local tribes know where the diamonds are)

The area map for this part of the FKC, the left area with Cross Harbor is the Marches of Alcona and Hubris, the area in the middle is native territory, and to the far left is Kandi. To the south is Narv-X and the north Terran Sphere.
http://eng.auburn.edu/users/donatgw/maps/1.jpg

IC:
Oompa Loompa Stew Served by Alconians….noAlconians sell Oompa Loompa as slaves…no….Oompa Loompa heads are new trophies for Alconian Sportsmen…Damn, that would be nice

The freelance reporter stared at the ceiling of the bar, his mind trying to come up with some story that would get him out of this place. He had come here to show the brutality of the Alconian occupation, only to find that things had been so screwed up in this part of the FKC that the local natives took the money for their coastal homes and moved inland, happily. Didn’t even put up a fight, of course they had been slaughtered by the pirate groups operating out of the harbors and bays around here for years.

He pulled his head back down and looked at the room, simple dark, the beer was heavy and relaxing. He looked over at one of the odd little Loops as the locals called them. Short, bright orange skin, tendency to work in groups singing. This one was humming as he worked.

Trying to think what having an Loop woman would be like, the reporters reverie was interrupted by the sound of something large breaking and then crashing into the building. Being a bad reporter, he finished his drink and then followed everyone else outside. Filching a beer as the bartender had gone outside, our intrepid reporter walked out into the street to find a large truck laying on its side, having flipped over and slid into the side of the bar.

A man lay on the ground, obviously unconscious. He had a backpack on, and small pieces of what looked like glass littered the ground around him, glinting in the light from the open door. The reporter leaned down and looked at one of the smaller objects. It wasn’t glass…not from the accident. I’ll let the Cross Harbor militia sort this mess out It was twice the size of his thumb….He shrugged and walked back into the bar…began to play with the stone and then, cut the bottle he was playing with….Oh my god, a story…

The Next Days Headlines, (being it was a slow day)
Massive Diamond Find Near Cross Harbor
Diamonds Discovery Worth Millions
The 100 Million Dollar Corpse
Where Diamonds Grow on Trees
Oompa Loompa! Natives Hold Diamond Fortune
Diamond Man, J Lo’s New Best Friend?

Somewhere in Vrak…

==General Intelligence Scan==
data type: newspaper
contents: headlines, article contents

scan initialized…
query: “Oompa Loompa”+”diamond”+”natives”
scan results: forward to INT officer – Resource division


At Hydra Mining HQ...

Hurk Grurko was starting off the morning with his usual coffee and clams when a newspaper clipping caught his eye.

“Oompa Loompa! Natives Hold Diamond Fortune”

What the hell is this? Oompa Loompa? Where’s that place? He punched into his computer and was greeted with this result.

“Oompa Loompa is a territory located in the south west portion of Klatchia. It is a landlocked area, with Terran Sphere to the north, Karndi to the east, Narv-X to the south and Alcona and Hubris (recently begun an expansion campaign) to the west. The area is believed to be inhabited by the primitive Oompa Loompa people.”

Do you wish to continue? Y/N

Diamonds eh? Well, should really check this out further. He picked up his phone and said, “Joe? Yeah, Hurk here. Would you mind checking this out? Find out the name of the reporter and where he is. Yeah. We’ll see what happens. Might send a team to find out more. Okay. Let me know right away.”

Calico arose at dawn as usuall for his five mile run. Out on his course that he had stuck to for the past five years, through the roughest part of the jungle at the edge of his estate.

Arriving back at the mansion that his family had left him Calico sat down to his meal, prepared by the butler staff, and began reading through the stack of newspapers he had delivered everyday. When Jiggady formally joined the Federated Klatchian Coast, Calico decided that it would be important to know the goings on of their regional neighbors, and thus suscribed to the major newspapers out of each nation.

The papers were usually full of the same rambling junk as the papers in Jiggady but aside for keeping him knowledgable on the major events in the region they also kept him entertained. He was only 25, but the fortune left to him by his departed family ensured that he would never have to work a day in his life. Yet Calico kept active as a world traveller and espionage agent/counter agent for his government, and lately he was getting the itch to get out and have an adventure.

Turning a page the opportunity struck him like a bullet in the chest, and he knew what that felt like.

"Diamond find? Oompa Loompa? Hmmm interesting."

Calico stood up and headed off to his library, coffee in hand and paper under his arm. He took a seat at the table in the center of the massive room and laided down his cherished atlas, running his fingers delicetly over the old paper he finally found the small nation. "Yess very interesting." Calico muttered out loud, an idead forming in his head for an expedition. "I must call Bellamy, he should know the type of men to get together for this sort of thing."

Whitman Manor
Outside Thorntree, Iansisle, the Commonwealth

“You sent for me, m’lord?” asked Sir William Fitzgerald, Iansisle’s most noted explorer. After graduating from the University of Gadsan at Lakeriverwood with a degree in Forestry, he had completed the first formal survey of the Noropian side of the Northern Range. Now, with his finding of the massive Noropian coal deposits, he was in the employ of Lord Clancy and the Royal Mining and Manufacturing Consortium.

“Yes, Sir William, I did,” croaked the ancient Lord Clancy Whitman, owner of RM&M and the head of the most reclusive and enigmatic of the seven Great Houses of Iansisle. The old man studied the forty five year old explorer - his face had never been what anyone would have called ‘handsome’, and a lifetime of hard use had pitted and cragged it. Lord Clancy threw a newspaper down on the table. “Read.”

Sir William picked up the paper - not an IanCorp publication, he noted - and glanced it over. “Diamonds?”

“Millions of generals worth, Sir William. Richer than the deepest Walmingtonish treasure troves. And I need them to be in RM&M’s orbit. Do you understand?”

“I, uh, believe so, sir.”

“I want you to find these diamonds, Sir William. Before anyone else. I’m giving you a blank check...don’t fail, Sir William.” Lord Clancy coughed. “That would be most unfortunate.”

“I go to obey, m’lord,” bowed Fitzgerald, quickly exiting the room. Even in his crippled state, Lord Clancy was frightening enough to scare a man. Fitzgerald began to make plans for his expedition to Oompa Loompa!

Dawn Trester hopped across the mud puddle in the road...and failed. She felt the cold splash of water on her legs as her foot found the edge of the large puddle. Damn, haven't you people heard of pavement? she thought...

Of course Cross Harbor hadn't been much ten years ago, when the Alconians landed here. Pavement on a side street was a low priority, considering that the hospital itself wasn't finished. She contiuned down the street and entered a rambling, two story structure with the words Asp Tavern, painted over the door.

An odd smoke lingered in the dinning area, unfinished wood defined the long space with a few simple windows running down one wall. The room was filled with plastic tables and chairs. At the far end was a counter, built out of the same local wood with a greasy haired man standing behind it...

She looked up at the board of fare..."I'll have the burbon chicken and a Blasthoff Beer," She stated...the man humphed and replied "Three Krondor"

Dawn droped the coins on the counter, as the man handed her a cold bottle of beer from under the counter. The man turned and yelled something into the back as Dawn returned to one of the tables and looked at her notes...

Bill Anted, a man from Blood Harbor, was knocked into a coma two days ago when the livery truck he was riding in flipped on a fast turn on Fort St. and Vaux, found to have a massive pile of dimmonds on him by Jake Alpen...a freelance reporter who was sighted buying a ticket up to Fort Hardtack upriver.

The driver of the truck, John Toba, had fallen asleep at the wheel, and is also in the hospital for several broken ribs. Picked up Mr. Anted in Hardtack outside of Anne's. Very reluctant to say what Anne's is, but Hardtack is the present location of the road building crew for the Karndi Road. Also known location of only river ferry...

She began working the story she was going to submit to her editor at Newsday she didn't have time to head up river. But perhaps he'd let her do a follow up story...

He was a decidedly unattractive man, overweight and rather stumpy, with a balding head that was adorned by a pair of large black glasses. His manner of dress and his smell didnt help much either but things like that were secondary to a man like Charles Bellamy. He was a treasure hunter, or as others like to call him a grave robber the lowest form of criminal scum one could find in Jiggady. And Bellamy had built up a reputation of being the lowest form of grave robber, who would cheat and steal from his empoyer or rob the anchient riches of civilizations.

*Yes* Calico thought, *Bellamy was the perfect man for the job.* After all he had worked with the man in the past, and despite his being the most despicable citizen of Jiggady, Calico knew that he was one of the best treasure hunters in the world.

"Well look what dragged in, the rich little secret agent man. What's a pretty boy like you doing down here?" Bellamy smilled wickedly as he weezed hard. His open mouth showed an uneven row of teeth that were missing about everyother one. He looked up at the towering Calico, daring him and playing him along though Calico didnt fall for it.

"Charming as usuall Bellamy, tell me how long has it been since you were with a woman, oh I'm sorry since you didnt have to pay for it?" Calico struck right back and smiled sarcasticly. Bellamy frowned, his eyes squinting untill they were pinpricks his face wrinkling up like a crumpled bag.

"Watch yourselft agent man, your not in your high class city now people can just dissapear down here. To what do I owe the honor of your presence; are you selling or looking to rob the treasures of some poor unfortunate society?"

"Have you read the papers recently? Oh Im sorry, I cant remember if you can read. Well anyway look at this clipping out of a paper from Alcona and Hubris." Calico handed over the small piece of paper and Bellamy grabbed it greedily. He squinted again, this time in frustration:

"Alcona and Hubris, where the hell is that? Hmmm, well now Diamonds ehh." He stretched the sentance out savering the words. "Dont know where the hell this Oompa Loompa is but for diamonds I think we can work something out."

"Yes, I thought as much. Anyway Oompa Loompa is mainland FKC, not far off the coast of Alcona and Hubris, a small nation mostly dense woods and rainforests. Im dont know much about the local population yet but the way this reporter is talking it sounds like the biggest thing to hit this country."

"Alright, but why are you interested? You're wealthy enough."

"Well lets just say I want to get out and have some fun, and I would like to add diamonds to my collected wealth. Chances are no one else in Jiggady has read this yet, and I'd like to do this for myself rather than go on another expedition for the government because no doubt they will send their own team."

"Ha,ha ha. You are a son of a bitch arent you. Just deciding when you are and aren't working for them." Bellamy opened the door out of his office and lead Calico down into the warehouse.

The great building was littered with ill gotten goods from all over the world. Calico personally saw several whose thefts had made the global news, he put that information away for later use.

"This isnt going to be cheap you know, at least from what your talking about jungles and all. We're going to need alot of gear, more than I already have."

"I can front the initiall costs for getting the expedition together." Calico said cooly, getting at what Bellamy was hinting at.

"Well then no worries. And just how are we splitting the profits from this little adventure, I think with one so potentially profitous as this we should abandon the normal procedure. I want 65%"

"Greedy now, you must surely be joking." Calico replied, if need be he would remind Bellamy just what kind of training he had as a killer.

"But Im not joking Calico, and dont call me Shirley." Bellamy replied with a stone face. "I have alot of expenses, lost or damaged equipment, not to say the cuts for all my men that we will take."

"Just how many men are we taking?"

"I think ten will be a good number, including myself and Goldie."

"NO, that bastard is not to be involved in this expedition, you know what we think of each other."

"Fine, no Goldie no expedition. Im not going without my best man."

Calico stared hard at the small man, daring him for a reason to strick him down. But Bellamy stared right back, he had gone through the same training as Calico and was a former agent in the same organization, he was not one to be intimidated. "Very well, you may take whoever you want. We split the findings 60-40."

"Sure 60 to you. No deal my old friend. You want a fairer split than I'll say 50-50 and thats just because Im giving you the good friend discount. And dont give me that crap about doing this on your own, you know that this cant be done alone."

"Ok, good friend, 50-50 I can live with that. Here's a check for 200k, that should be enough to get what you need in a timely manner."

"I'll call you in two days, you book the passage over."

Calico nodded his agreement and left the warehouse. He knew Bellamy was already thinking of ways to cut him out of the profits but Calico was used to dealing with him.

Dawn sat in the small, crampt room that was jokingly called an apartment. She pulled the phone from her ear, "alright, I'll head out...but I need cash. Prices around here have gone through the roof. A guy was offering to drive people out at 800 Krondor a person. Hell, passage on a barge is up to 600 hundred Krondor for standing room....You want the story, I need the cash...Wire it to the V&A bank branch...Yeah....of course I'm taking Phil....well one, he's good, two he doesn't like digging in the dirt to make money...well hell, living around here is going to go through the roof soon anyway...yeah, I'll get the story....Yeah, Yeah..." She hung up the phone.
Alright, I can get passage with Jake for free and pocket the cash, say 800 Krondor She started going back through the list of items she was taking.
She started to finish to pack, luckly she had come out here prepared...and had found living in the Hotel Diablo a bit expensive, and anoying. Better take both handguns, this is going to be messy
******
When the Cross Town Gazette arrived in Hardtack well, people didn't really notice it. The two copies were given to their respective owners, and the delivery man then drove off into a burnt out patch of ground near the Wolverine road. He parked and walked off with a pack back into town.

The owner of the Trading post sat back and began to read, and then re-read the paper. John Taylor was a bit old to be running around the Jungle, but then he had always admired Levi Strauss. He walked out of the rambling structure and crossed the gravel strewn area infront, crossing the new pavement over to Yost Garage.
****
Below the town proper, on the island, Amy Debra looked out of her office window. There had been a steady stream of small craft heading up the river, many had landed on the shore and it looked like a marina outside. Durk pushed another boat off the ferry landing dock and screamed at the owner, who didn't even seem to notice that his boat was now floating back down stream. The man just followed a few others across the pontoon bridge towards Philly Creek and the main highway.

Durk walked into the office. "Who'd the hell be Bill Anted? Seem like every warfrat in C Harb' know him...and wan' Anne..." She looked at her employee "That's Bill A's full name...and unless the Markgrave went and threw out all the whore's in Cross Harbor I don't know why...."her eyes narrowed..."I think you'd better move his stuff out of cabin six...and into the office. Oh, start charging a landing fee, say twenty Krondor...I don't want my island covered with all this trash."

(dang it - sorry!)

The Northern Passage
Off Cape Jackson, Iansisle, the Commonwealth

RMMS Vagabond wasn't a very big ship, nor was she a very new one. But she was the best Royal Mining and Manufacturing could spare on such short notice.

Standing on her bridge alongside the athletic young wheelsman, Sir William was really starting to feel his age. Already, he mused, he had outlived most of his old friends from Topton - not like that was much. The foolishly laboured in the coal mines, dying early but leaving the next generation of workers.

Of course, he mused, one could say that I'm about to go into coal mining myself... He laughed, partially at the joke and partially at how absurd his mission was. After all, Commonwealthers tended to value colored gems far above diamonds - when he had been knighted three years ago, it was Sir William the Brave of the Order of the Amethyst, much like Sir Jeffery the Honorable of the Order of the Ruby or Sir Richard the Loyal of the Order of the Opal.

Still, when the Lord Clancy decided on something, it was final. He wanted diamonds - God only knew why - and it was up to Sir William to find them.

Another week and his small team would be in that...place, if such a term could be applied. He just hoped Lord Clancy wouldn't be disappointed - Sir William has disappointed Lord Clancy once before, and he'd be damned if her repeated that mistake.

Cross Harbor airport

The two Vrakians stepped out of the Cross Harbour airport. One looked for a tax while the other snagged a copy of the Cross Town Gazette. As they got in the one burly Vrakian said, in flawless Alconian, to take them to the [name] hotel.

Their orders were simple. Hook up with the first Vrakian team and find the reporter. Assess his reliability and then scour for more street information. Then secure transportation to Fort Hardtack. Outwardly, they resembled out-of-work drifters looking for some work but appearances can be deceiving.

====

Cross Harbour airport Immigration

Meanwhile, the geologist survey team sent from Hydra Mining were still trying to convince Alconian officials that they were merely on a survey expedition at the request of the Alconian government.

“Oh hell,” said Rick Ruvold, the Hydra Mining party chief geologist as he angrily slammed his passport down near the Alconian Immigration official, “Look, we aren’t saying that you guys aren’t up to the job at all. No way. We are here to offer our support ya know? Yes, Oompa Loompa is where we want to do the surveys. Yes, we realize that the area is unexplored. That’s why we’re going in there, right? To survey the area. I don’t know why the paperwork didn’t get processed yet. I mean, we did fill out the forms back at our company and well, your Royal Privy post in Vrak Prime said it was okay. I don’t know. Yes, I’ll take a seat.”

The assistant chief sidled up to Rick and muttered, “By Bok’s maw Rick, take it easy. Work them up and we lose time, alright?”

OOC: Let me know if I screwed up anything and I can edit appropriately.

It hadn't taken nearly as long as Bellamy said to get the equipment however, Calico wasnt counting on having to wait that long, he knew Bellamy was good at that sort of thing. Thus Calico was already completly packed up for the expedition when he recieved the phone call.

He now stood on the deck of the old deisel ship, staring at the stars and remembering the navigation training he had at the academy. The owner of the boat had charged him an arm and a leg for passage on such a short notice. Calico wasnt all that irritated at this he was sure that he would more than make up the money alredy invested however, he would have prefered a vessel that would have offered a more comforting voyage.

Yet what the boat lacked in overall apperance and comfort, she made up for in speed as if the engines were the only thing the old whaling captian kept in peak condition. They were sailing hard for Cross Harbor with promises from the Captian that they would reach the city sometime tomarrow evening. Yawning Calico sat down on the hamock he slung out on deck, he prefered sleeping in the open with the stars. This was especially true when he thought of the idea sleeping in the regular quarters with Bellamy and his men. Calico deffienetly wanted as little interaction with that lot as possible, knowing that it would be an interseting time with them in Oompa Loompa.

"Oh ho, what's all this?" An unusually powerful voice -by Walmingtonian norms- broke the evening quiet on the large Chasshire estate.

"Time to deepen the treasure troves I'd say, old bean!" Sir Henry Wayne, African adventurer, tamer of Wayneisia, paused. Slowly the broad-shouldered, sandy haired old knight turned his gaze upwards over his reading glasses towards his drinking partner of ..well, of convenience rather than choice.

Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh grunted timidly even as he slept, his bowler hat tiped forward over his face, rim pushed by the back of the chair as his typically diminutive Walmingtonian frame sank further into the seat.

"By thunder, Ten-tronckh, get up, man!" And get up he did, scrambling to fetch his falling hat as he started.

"What? What is it? Jerry? Oh God, it's the big one isn't it? Quick, get under the desk; it's oak!"

"No, no.."

"..it isn't? We must get away from the windows at least.."

"Tronckhy! It's not the blasted Hun! It's diamonds, man!"

"Diamonds?" Queeried the baron, his thin face alive with confusion.

Sir Henry tossed across the desk a copy of The Standard, open at page seventeen.

"Don't you read the papers, old boy? We're going on a trip!"

"We're in the papers?" The baron's face light up "I don't see anything about us..or our trip..what trip?"

"Confound it all, Thunder-ten-tronckh, we're not in the papers -yet. We're going to Oompa Loompa!"

"I don't think I should like to do that, it sounds quite vulgar, if you'll excuse my saying, Sir Henry."

Wayne sighed, clasping one hand to his brow and extending the other towards his brandy.

OOC: Note money in the FKC is the Krondor approximately worth 1.23 USD, the Griffen is old coinage that has been set at a value of 4 Kr and acts as supplemental currency.


The two Vrakians stepped out of the Cross Harbour airport. One looked for a tax while the other snagged a copy of the Cross Town Gazette. As they got in the one burly Vrakian said, in flawless Alconian, to take them to the Diablo hotel.

Their orders were simple. Hook up with the first Vrakian team and find the reporter. Assess his reliability and then scour for more street information. Then secure transportation to Fort Hardtack. Outwardly, they resembled out-of-work drifters looking for some work but appearances can be deceiving.

The taxi was an old car with the words Taxi painted over the rust. The driver demanded a down payment of 80Kr each and seemed to jabber on…”You need girls, yes! I know girls. Good time, low price…no girls…ah…you rock hunt yes! Go go to ‘ardack yes? I know man give you ride…800 Griffen each…real cheap. “ He drove like a maniac down the main road, which seemed to have only a few people on it and stopped in front of the Diablo Hotel. “Here cheapest place in town…now Get out…” He pulls a shot gun from the front seat and points it at the two Vrakians…pointing out the door.

The Diablo Hotel looked more like a series of disjointed frame buildings standing along the street. The white paint by now had left only a slight remembrance of itself on the outside, and the inside didn’t seem to have seen a dusting in a very long, long time. Their was a rush carpet on the floor of the entry that was defined by a set of stairs rising at one end, a counter on the left side with a small, old woman behind it and a bar on the right. The bar was covered with people who were drinking and laughing…a sign on the hotel counter said
Rooms
Single….50 Kr per person
Double….80 Kr per person



Cross Harbour airport Immigration

Meanwhile, the geologist survey team sent from Hydra Mining were still trying to convince Alconian officials that they were merely on a survey expedition at the request of the Alconian government.

“Oh hell,” said Rick Ruvold, the Hydra Mining party chief geologist as he angrily slammed his passport down near the Alconian Immigration official, “Look, we aren’t saying that you guys aren’t up to the job at all. No way. We are here to offer our support ya know? Yes, Oompa Loompa is where we want to do the surveys. Yes, we realize that the area is unexplored. That’s why we’re going in there, right? To survey the area. I don’t know why the paperwork didn’t get processed yet. I mean, we did fill out the forms back at our company and well, your Royal Privy post in Vrak Prime said it was okay. I don’t know. Yes, I’ll take a seat.”

The assistant chief sidled up to Rick and muttered, “By Bok’s maw Rick, take it easy. Work them up and we lose time, alright?”


Twenty minutes later a group of armed men in uniform arrived. They were not in the typical Alconian Uniform, but gray with some form of house crest on the breast. The leader looked down at them and said “Mr. Ruvold? I’m from the Markgrave’s office. I’m here to escort your team to straiten this matter out.” He leads the group to three military trucks…and shows them to the center one. He takes their passports as they enter the vehicle, when they are loaded he enters the forward cab and the mini convoy takes off for the center of Cross Harbor.

OOC: Ah the title is still Ambassador it’s just defined as a Royal Privy Post in terms of who makes appointment to that post. But leave it, it shows that he’s sort of trying to tap dance on water…


The Harbor

Captain Bill Danya looks out across the harbor to the sea. It is a long estuary, with hills rising up along both sides covered with new farmsteads and local brush lands. Plying up and down the estuary like guard dogs were two Royal Navy Cruisers that were a new addition to the area. At the port, several large container ships await loading on one side of the dock while the riverboats that ply the Yarmar should be on the other. At the moment, few riverboats are docked, even fewer are loading or unloading cargo. Crews have been hard to come by in recent days.

A rumor on the river is gospel by midnight they say Captain Debra thought as he looked back towards the Jenny.

The Jenny is a side-wheeler, one of the few on the river. She was far more powerful that most boats and could actually get out of problems that some of the more conventional craft needed help with. The Jenny was known as the ‘lady’ since she spent a good deal of time repairing and rescuing other riverboats. Now the Oompa Loompa porters were filling her open bottom deck, once home to an impromptu machine shop, with shovels, picks, sieves and other equipment.

He looked over at Matherson on the fuel barge nearby. A few more hours and they should be ready to put off. He had to pay that man five Thousand krons just to get his lazy ass back down river. How much on the next trip?

Fort Hardtack

Bass was a short, hairy man that had little to say. He was a clammer by profession. Digging up freshwater clams and sending them down river. However, he was also the local grave digger. And now he had three fresh graves to dig.

Everyone was stumbling over the newcomers in town, the Quacks as they were being called. Tempers were rising, and with no one finding diamonds growing on trees around here…well things had gotten ugly fast. A group had decided that the Wolverine mine had diamonds on it, and started to trespass. Only to be warned off by a hail of bullets from a few off duty Marines acting as security guards.

One had taken a bullet in the back of the head in that incident. Everything but his head was now laying on Bass’s cart waiting for a hole.

The other two had started fighting in the street over a genuine Bill Anted map That consisted of a large number of X’s and O’s on a satellite photo. Now both were going to have a hole dug for them, and were more likely to find diamonds at the bottom of their graves then at any spot on their map, considering it was a satellite photo of the upper Nile.

He looked at yesterday’s new occupants of the yard, Jake Alpen a reporter that had been found yesterday beaten to death with the blunt end of an axe.

The axe was found lodged in Kelly’s head. She had actually received a funeral, but no one had known her last name.

The trip over the South Klatchian Ocean had been easy and uneventfull, just the way Calico liked it; he was sure there would be plenty to worry about in Oompa Loompa with the band of cowboys he brought.

Still keeping to himself Calico stared out across the ocean, waiting for a land mass to emerge in the horizon. The captain of the whaler stood cheerfully in the wheelhouse humming a tune to himself and his crew. Sticking his bulbus head out of a window he yelled out in a thick sweedish accent:

"Ooyy we should be reaching the Squall Straight in a few more hours, Cross Harbor isnt far beyond."

Calico nodded his head back and thought to himself, *should be another five or so hours*

He looked down at the paper in his hand, a list of the supplies they had for the expedition, Bellamy and his men were currently below checking out everything making sure it was in order after the sea voyage.

They had three Hummers
Five ATV's
Three inflateable rafts with outboard motors
Full all weather radio equipment for each man
Tents and collapsable huts
GPS locators
A wide assortment of hand tools for digging, minning, and getting through the forest
a Bulldozer and Backhoe, though they were going to leave them aboard the ship for the time being
Dynamite
and an assortment of weaponry, a handgun and assault rifle for each man (Calico has his own personal weapons)
And finally of course the basic survival gear

Calico knew that Bellamy had done well on such a short notice, the two construction vehicles were especially a surprise. He now just wondered how to get everything through customes, especially the guns, Calico figured that would be the hardest thing and would have advised against them. However, he knew Bellamy and knew that the treasure hunter wouldnt have gone without them

Five or more hours and the adventure would begin, Calico smiled. He wondered how many others would also be hunting for the diamonds or how many were already there.

"Land ho!" came a watchman's cry. It was exciting, certainly, but they had been expecting that for some time now. The Vagabond was rolling slightly in the light seas as a navigator's aid sighted an unlighted buoy, passing the numbers along to the ship's navigation room. A quick checking of charts and some fast number crunching by the captain - the ship was too small to carry its own navigator - and Iansislean navigation was validated; they were only a furlong and a half south of where they thought they were. The Vagabond came about north slightly, heading back on course.

After several more uneventful hours, the Royal Mining and Manufacturing ship slipped in to Cross Harbor, flying the Cross of St. Patrick and a standard with a light blue 'R' on a navy blue background. The ship's hull was painted a deep black, trimmed with light blue, and was registered in Fort Jackson, Iansisle. Her captain contacted the Cross Harbor port authority, asking for instructions.

"Land ho!" came a watchman's cry. It was exciting, certainly, but they had been expecting that for some time now. The Vagabond was rolling slightly in the light seas as a navigator's aid sighted an unlighted buoy, passing the numbers along to the ship's navigation room. A quick checking of charts and some fast number crunching by the captain - the ship was too small to carry its own navigator - and Iansislean navigation was validated; they were only a furlong and a half south of where they thought they were. The Vagabond came about north slightly, heading back on course.

After several more uneventful hours, the Royal Mining and Manufacturing ship slipped in to Cross Harbor, flying the Cross of St. Patrick and a standard with a light blue 'R' on a navy blue background. The ship's hull was painted a deep black, trimmed with light blue, and was registered in Fort Jackson, Iansisle. Her captain contacted the Cross Harbor port authority, asking for instructions.

The reply was curt..."Ah well we'll send a harbor pilot out to ya..." twenty minutes later a small boat coasted out of the inner harbor traffic and delivered a short woman in a blue uniform with the words Cross Pilot stiched in white across the back. The name tag read Amy Pill
"Permission to come aboard?" She yelled up at the ship as the boat held off her forward port quarter....

*******
Newsday International
Cross Harbor had Dimmond Fever
by Dawn Trester

Cross Harbor is feeling a pinch. Not in the wallet, but on the street. At the moment, thousands of workers within the city are leaving their jobs and heading east, into the jungle and the native zone. Their destination, a small outpost known as Fort Hardtack. Why? The lure of easy money, the lure of diamonds.

A few days ago, a man known as Bill Anted was riding on a livery truck down the Kandi road from the interior. The driver lost control, sending Mr. Anted into a support post and revealing he carried a fortune in diamonds. At the moment, his lordship, the Markgrave of Gost, is not saying how much the uncut diamonds are worth. Stating "the man deserves to have his affairs be kept confidential as he lays in a coma." However, the Markgrave’s personal guardsmen seem to be preparing for a mission of some type? Hunting the diamonds?

At present a small caravans of trucks, cars, and a rented bus have taken off the road into the vast unknown land that some call Oompa Loompa and others call Loompaland. Most of the native Oompa Loompa's have given odd replies to my inquires. Their sing song responses are more about why being greedy is bad.

OOC: article continues with overview of dimond trade and present prices and several interviews of varying quality...

The reply was curt..."Ah well we'll send a harbor pilot out to ya..." twenty minutes later a small boat coasted out of the inner harbor traffic and delivered a short woman in a blue uniform with the words Cross Pilot stiched in white across the back. The name tag read Amy Pill
"Permission to come aboard?" She yelled up at the ship as the boat held off her forward port quarter....

"Granted!" returned the Vagabond's captain, tossing a line down to the Amy Pill. He was somewhat surprised to see a female skipper, what with Iansisle's maratime culture being less than liberated.

(sorry this is so short...I was just on my way out. Back in an hour or so.)

OOC: No, I'm just waiting for a meeting...so I'm on a bit more than usual about now

IC: The pilot boarded the vessel and climbed up to the bridge...she is tall blond, and acts like a professional. She has on a nice smile, but keeps her hands behind her back.
"Welcome to Cross Harbor, your not a scheduled arrival, but then we've had a good number in the last few days. Marlin Point has another two ships in bound up the estuary, so I'm going to be breif about this...what's your cargo? At the moment we're having a bit of trouble unloading ships. The long shoremen have decided to take a very long holiday...so were stuck with the native porters and the only crane crew left is going to be backed up for a week just on sorting out the mess on Dock 5....." She looks at the man at the helm and states "By law for any ship of this size I need to take the helm Captain."

The captain leered somewhat at her. He is dark haired, with a scraggly beard and a sea-worn face. "Welcome aboard, er, ma'am," he smiled with a rather sickining look. "I'm Eric MacKenna - skipper of the good ship Vagabond." He waved his hand to indicate his command, as if she'd not noticed it.

The Vagabond herself was almost as weather-beaten as her captain. Her black superstructure rose forward, unlike most modern cargo ships, and a single large funnel just aft of that indicated that she was a coal-burner. The cargo space was limited by the long shafts running down her keel to power her two screws. She displaced about eight thousand tons fully loaded, much less than the newer Royal Mining and Manufacturing oil-fired haulers. Normally, the Vagabond was used to run steel from RM&M's mills on the Western Shield across Troobodia Bay to the Dominions. However, she was expendable, one reason she was picked by the RM&M AquaFreight managers to ferry Sir William and his team on Lord Clancy's personal venture.

The captain waved his hand again to indicate Sir William, who was standing aside with a sheet of paper. The explorer coughed slightly, removing the fedora perched upon his head. "That's most unfortunate, about the longshoremen, ma'am. Fortunatly, our manifest isn't terribly heavy - I should think the men I've brought along will be able to handle it."

Sir William handed her a list, which included standard geological survey equipment, navigational aides, non-perishable foodstuffs, replacement clothing, camp equipment, and the like. Nothing terribly heavy - it was all to be ported by five men with Gallagan-sounding names and three mules. Also listed was one "Dr. C. Michan, Geologist".

"I hope you find everything satisfactory, ma'am," replied Sir William, bowing slightly.

"Are you sure you can handle this ship, missie?" asked MacKenna, looking at her, then at the wheel.

She looked at the captain, and then the manifest. "Well, we can tie her up to the old dock at the moment. Although I'm going to tell you that the donkey's are only going to atract some of the local predtors in the jungle. " As she stated this she walked over to the helm, and took the wheel...she noted that the ship appeared to still be operated by what appeared to be a telegraph system, and ordered the ship to slow down.

"I'll call the navy tug, we don't get many ships out here without bow thrusters..." She pulls a radio from her belt and makes some cryptic comments...she hears a reply and then she turns to the captain. "Ah we will be having the Navy Tug pull upside in a few moments. Your going to need to drop the engine speed to just give us steerage....we should have you docked in about an hour..."

OOC: unless there is a reason, let's just skip head without any problems to you arriving at the dock...

"I'm afraid my employer didn't provide me with specific information regarding the local flora and fauna," replied Fitzgerald, his voice dignified and refined. "Perhaps there is an institution on the ground where I can enlighten myself before setting out?"

The captain grunted, stepping back and crossed his arms. "Bah. Go ahead, lassie, but if anything happens to my ship..." He left the thought unfinished, glaring at her while she stood at the wheel.

(I've no reason ;))

Sir William organized the unloading of the Vagabond nodding at every box. He considered the donkeys - where was that information office?

At the Diablo Hotel…

The two Vrakians got out of the cab with their luggage and merely smiled at the gruff taxidriver. The maniacal ride only served to sharpen their senses in anticipation of their assignment.

“Hotel Diablo, eh? This should be interesting.”

They went into the lobby and approached the old woman. After removing her cigarette from her mouth she inquired, “Whadda ya want?”

“I’m Joe Smith and this here is Frank Reese. Someone booked a room for us?”

She looked at them again and brought out an old scruffy book. After flipping through the pages she said, “Ah yah. Here you is. Joe and Frank. Room 4B.”

She unhooked the key from a battered board and said, “Just go up them stairs yonder. That’s 80 Kronor youze.”

Joe obligingly paid the fee and together the two men gathered their goods and went to their room. At the door to 4B Frank rapped once and was greeted with two sharp knocks. The door opened and their were two more Vrakians.

“Hi Gary”
“Hi Frank…Joe. Right on time.”
“When is the shipment due?”
“About an hour or so. Peter and Mark are at the docks now with the truck ready to pick up the packages.”

Joe breathed a sign of relief. Bringing in sensitive equipment and weaponry into Cross Harbor by plane might have aroused suspicion. But a crooked ship’s manifest, especially how the present situation in Cross Harbor is somewhat unstable, would probably be more successful. Besides, they always had a backup plan.

Frank unzipped on of the backpacks and unloaded some portable communication gear. Luckily bringing this in wasn’t too hard and the cover story held. It seems that actually having a legitimate company subsidiary (in this case The Hydra Group) and delivering equipment there worked. Of course, they had no intention of delivering this kind of gear.

“Joe, once Frank sets up here you’d better go to the Hydra offices and pay them a visit.”

At The Hydra Group offices…

Well, they weren't much to look at. Just a small promotional branch occupying the first floor of an office building in downtown Cross Harbor. Hydra recently set up this office because, like most Vrakian companies, it was always looking for new places to exploit.


Riding through Cross Harbour…

Rick looked around at his team and the Markgrave’s guards as they rode through Cross Harbor. By the King’s flippers, this wasn’t part of the plan.

Creek 51
Peter Corripio was a clerk in a hardware store, or had been until yesterday when he decided that there was money in the Jungle and he was going to get some. He had paid only 600 Kr for the ride out to Hardtack, a deal by the day's standards. His life savings. He left his wife and two month daughter with little in the bank, and only her part time income to sustain them.

As the old truck rummbled across the bridge of a creek marked 51, known as Basy Gorge to some. The first signs of trouble really erupted. In the form of the brige going from being a pile bridge over a small creek to being a mass of flying splinters.

Peter was lucky, he was thrown from the truck as it pinwheeled down into the gorge below. He hit the stone abutment and was impaled on a protruding reinforcment bar. His life draining out of him quickly down into the trickle of water below...his last veiw of this world was of the car ahead's tail lights shinning as they stopped.

The Iansisle Group:
both the tug, the pilot boat and pilot had quickly sailed off after leaving the Vagabond a bill of some 6,600 Kr for the whole operation
a notice at the bottom stated:
If you attempt to leave without paying all bills due in port, your ship and cargo will be seized and sold to satisfy your creditors

A short man in a similar blue uniform appeared from between two dilaptated buildings that once acted as wharehouses. Behind him walked two men in gray uniforms carrying submachine guns. The dock seemed to have taken a decided beating, with what appeard to be large swathes of the metal wharehouses knocked to the ground, and various large holes in the concrete.

"Good day, I'm Officer Ralph of the Customs division. I need to see your manifest and a decleration of your destination, if you are going into the security zone I need to see that you are properly equiped..." He stopped and looked at the animals and stated "I hope you don't plan on taking those into the jungle"

At Dock 5
"I'm sorry I can't help you...but that entire ship is going to be unloaded, soon...as soon as we can. But you see, I've got a problem. I've got one crane operator on duty, and no one to operate any heavy equipment, the natives are just too damn short. Last time I let one drive a forklift it was in the drink faster than you can sing Oompa Loompa Dopity Doop then the little b****d started to sing about letting people without drivers licences drive..."

The man at the dock was swearing up and down, and not looking pleased. Of course neither were the two Vrakians, who were being told that the package would be delivered when it was freed from the cargo hold. And very little in the way of actual time frame.

At the Governor's Residence
On a hill above the river, stood a massive eddifice. It appeared to be one story, or at least the windows were some 12 feet in height. Such that if the bottom sash were up, most people could easily walk strait onto the wide veranda that was across the front of the building.

The caravan pulled into the drive that ran behind the house. The drive passed through a massive arch that connected the front building with a massive stone structure that said fortress all over it, inspite of the carvings in the stone around the small windows.

The group from Hydra was escorted out at the arch and lead into the rear building. At the top of the stairs was a pair of men in gray uniforms. A woman opened a side door and stated dryly "Marks I'll see them in here..."

Their escort appeared to want to argue, but then slightly shook his head and pointed at the side door.

The room seemed to be opulent, especially for an outpost. Dark mahagony bookcases lined the walls and a thick carpet covered the wood floor. The cealing was actually painted in gold and red geometric patterns with a massive chandiler hanging from the center. The room was massive. At one end was a utilitarian metal desk where the lady was seating herself. It appeared as if chairs had been added to the room, enough for senior members of the team. "Could the rest of you please wait out in the hall. I think a less is more approach would be advisable here."

OOC: edits...damn typo's

(sorry - the server's giving me fits tonight!)

The captain was livid. "Seven thousand Krondor...SEVEN THOUSAND for an operation I could have done with both my eyes closed? That pretty little b..."

"Mr. MacKenna, please!" insisted Sir Willaim, fishing out his coin purse. "That's only about ten thousand generals* - here." The exploror handed MacKenna ten coins, each about the size of a poker chip and golden. One side had a portrait of HIM High King John II, the other the letter 'M'. "Go get these changed, and we'll settle now. Lord Clancy said to spare no expense, and I don't intend to let that happen."

While the gruff captain walked off, Sir William turned to meet Office Ralph. "Good day, sir. I'm Sir William Fitzgerald, from Iansisle. We're here at the request of Lord Clancy Whitman of the Northern Uplands to search for diamonds, which I hear are in the...er, 'security zone', did you call it."

Fitzgerald regarded the animals as well. "No, I suppose we'll not be taking them. Girilal!" he shouted, turning back to a Gallagan worker. "You can reload the mules! We'll not be needing them!" The young boy nodded, reaching out for a strap. Fitzgerald handed over a manifest - it listed the previous equipment, but the only defensive measure was a single M74B bolt-action rifle. "I hope everything's in order?"

(* 1 Gnl = $0.86 USD, so 1.43 Gnl = 1 Kr, correct? Or 6,600 Kr = 9,439.54 Gnl?)

Sir Henry Wayne and his hapless companion Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh had rented a large trawler, for want -thanks to the war- of a better vessel, and in light of the confiscation for training duties of Sir Henry's twin engine Barrow aircraft by the RWAF. The boat, renamed by Wayne the Intrepid, and pushing the hulk beyond 12 knots really was an intrepid affair. The navy took all the good trawlers, too..

The Baron was looking ever more frail, evidently part of him couldn't believe he was alone on the high seas in a trawler with the bombastic Sir Henry, but he was inclined to the best set of circumstances available at this time to who he was.

"I've just been down in the hold, Thunder, ha-ha! There's room for a mountain of diamonds, what!" Bellowed Wayne, enthusiastically brushing at his considerable moustache as he appeared back behind the wheel.

Glancing back from the deck to the little wheel-house, it occured to the Baron that maybe Sir Henry wasn't quite the man he used to be.

(* 1 Gnl = $0.86 USD, so 1.43 Gnl = 1 Kr, correct? Or 6,600 Kr = 9,439.54 Gnl?)

OOC: Correct!

the Old dock:
The Customs officer looked at the manifest.
"More damn fortune hunters...well your better equiped than most...now then, I don't see either iodine tablets or a water filter on this manifest. Nor do I see any weapons. Your not going into the the Jungle without weapons are you? Hell the morning radio report had three deaths last night in Fort Hardtack..."

He looks back up at the mules..."If your looking for pack animals, try lama's...those three would get a good price in any of the farming towns along the coast. Might even get six lama's for them."

The Captain in Cross Harbor

At the gate to the dock, the captain is directed up the street towards the downtown. The road here has been paved. As he walks towards Alexander Street, the main drag as the guard had put it. He walks by a large brick building with the words Tilly Riverboats with a man on a podium standing there. "Alright, people I have a bid of 4,000 for standing room on the Tamworth...does anyone else wish to make a higher offer...remember there are only 120 spots on the old girl...she arrives tommorow and departs..." A yell of fourty one hundred is heard as a man holds up a wooden board with a number painted on it..."I have 4,100 Krondor per head, do I hear 4,200?..." a man raises his hand up into the air...

"Now see here!" insisted Sir William, strangely nervous. "I've been through the Gap, across the Dianatranian wastelands, and into the depths of the Gallagan jungles, and I've never needed anything more powerful than my good old barker." He indicated the M74B sitting atop a crate. "I'm not sure what sort of wildlife you have here per se, but it certainly can't be too much more dangerous than a Gallagan tiger!"

"Llamas?" he considered, rubbing his chin. "It seems to me that they'd attract their own fair share of predators, while offering little in the way of additional survivability in the wild. I am most intrigued by the wildlife around here."

The point about the water made perfect sense, at least. "I'll have to look into acquiring some filters," he nodded. "The last thing we need is a man dying in the wild from bad water."

Meanwhile the captain was considering the auction. He glanced at the ten thousand generals Sir William had given him, then noted the currency of the auction. With a sigh, he continued to look for a changing house, but would continue to wonder what the people were bidding so high for.

OOC: To those of you not familiar with the ecology found within the Klatch, you may want to check out the FKC website. Personally, I'm watching out for the Homosexual monkey and the chickaroach.

http://www.freewebs.com/klatchia/index.htm

Somewhere in the FKC region..

.455" gunshots could be heard as, at Wayne's suggestion, Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh tried his hand at shooting.. "What is this, anyway?" "Buggered if I know, Baron, it came away from the hull when I was below. Floats, doesn't it? Come on, come on, hit it at least once, can't you?"

It floats, but will we for want of it? The Baron asked himself, breaking open the frame of his revolver -a .455 service revolver of Wayne's design, of course- to eject and replace the five rounds spent thus far on making holes in the sea.

In the wheel-house, Sir Henry was having a whale of a time. He'd been worried that with the pace of war shrinking the world, he might not have time in him for any more adventures. He was hopelessly lost, but there wasn't a damn chance of him admitting it to himself, never mind to his associate. He hummed the nation's current number one record, eventually breaking out into song-

"Mr.Brown goes off to town on the A21,
but he comes home each evening and he's ready with his gun,
so watch out Mr.Hitler you have met your match in us,
if you think you can crush us we're afraid you've missed the bus!"

Oh God, the old rogue's got the spirit of the war in him. He'll probably try to claim Uh..oo.. Lumpala for king and country...if he ever finds the damn thing.

Thunder-ten-tronckh went back to missing deadwood and guarding his bowler hat against the threats of the ocean breeze.

Lieutenant Fletcher kicked the radio again, it was about the size of a small motor cycle, and occasionally picked up a very scratchy signal from back in the Empire.

"Brüderlein komm fass mich an" the radio crackled at him. The sound of civilisation.

Fletcher sighed, and pushed the rickety chair back closing his eyes, outside the song of the song of the Oompa Loompa blended in with the hideous music echoing out of his transistor. By God, I'd give anything to be out of this primitive hell hole.

"Sir!" Fletcher opened one eye to look up at door of his small hut. The sillouetted figure of Private Yates stood in the doorway, dressed in the dark blue, almost black uniform with black leather webbing, that the Imperial Government had somehow decided was the best for this particular patch of jungle.

"Yes?" Fletcher asked suspiciously.

"Spiel mit mir!" the radio echoed...Yates looked suspiciously excited...

"Orders from Imperial HQ Sir?"

"Oh?" Fletcher asked, "What is it then? The seven of us are to protect some wretched anthropologist looking for traces of ancient Oompa Loompa civilisation?"

"No Sir." Yates said, running his hand through his black hair and looking just the tiniest bit put out.

"Well come on, spit it out then."

"Someone has found diamonds in these parts Sir, we, being the only Imperial garrison in this area have been instructed to" Yates looked skyward, and paused as he tried to remember the exact words from the equally poorly maintained radio that kept them in contact with HQ, " ensure no reckless abuse of the natives goes on at the hands of treasure hunters until the Empire can negotiate some kind of way to get more people in here. We're to meet up with anybody who gets this deep into the jungle"

"So in other words we're supposed to make sure nobody else gets their hands on the diamonds while the Government negotiates with one of the countries around here to let them move an army in here and occupy the place?"

"Sir?"

Fletcher sighed, "Never mind private, it's politics."

Yates grinned manically, "Oh...I don't understand that." he announced proudly.

"Yates."

"Yes Sir?"

"Go and clean the crocodile gun and make sure the thing still works, I'll be damned if I go near the river without some serious firepower and then get someone to give some Oompas some glass beads or something they like if they'll go out and watch for humans."

(OOC) I'm playing the part of a small understaffed and underequiped garrison deep in the jungle in an area likely to have a few scattered Imperials (Dyellians, Benjians and Feegle). The Empire works on an old style colonial basis so generally drops people off all over the place.

For those of you unfamiliar with the Empire it is 3 States. Dyelli Beybi, Fasta Benj and the Grand Duchy of the Nac Mac Feegle. Also there are dubious claims on several other States of the FKC.

Some fauna likely to be found here. Taken from the Klatchian webpage.

The Klatchian crocodile, Crocodylus gigantus is the worlds largest reptile, growing to lengths of 18m, with the largest recorded specimen being 2172cm from snout to tail-tip. The beasts are hunted as game beasts in Dyelli Beybi & Fasta Benj, the skins and heads being taken as trophys and the meat sold in the local supermarkets. so far the crocodiles achieve 3 kills for every crocodile shot by a safari party.

The Homosexual monkey, Macca klatchia homosexual, and it's various related offshoots was created by Evilpsychoticguys top scientists, in conjunction with Diocletion. They are a major pest species in the jungled parts of the region, due to their ferocity. attacks on humans are an all too common occurence, and the monkeys three inch canine fangs inflict grievous wounds.

The Domokun Domokun domokun is a small primate, possibly related to lemurs. it has basically no neck and a thickset body. little is known about this elusive forest dweller, but it is definitely not arboreal.

The chickaroach is a monstrous hybrid of chicken and cockroach, with 16 legs and 3 heads. they are also inedible. nuclear weapons are not pleasant things....

"Damnable ocean" Sir Henry muttered to himself. "Damn map!" He exclaimed loud enough for Thunder-ten-tronckh to hear, while shaking a large Royal Walmington Publishing House 1906 edition map of the region.

To be fair, this wasn't entirely a case of bad workmanship and blame-shifting; the map did in several places read "Here be monsters" (..little did they know!).

"I say, do..would you li..mind a hand there, Sir Henry?" Ten-tronckh offered, the baron's on again off again tact just barely sufficient to avoid causing offence to the old explorer.

"Brrh, uh, yes, yes.." Wayne admitted, sticking in his chin and pushing out his chest a little as he tapped two fingers on top of a bulky and ill-conditioned radio set "See if you can get that infernal radiola working, if you would."

Sir Henry shuffled out of the wheel-house, squeezing past the inbound young baron, and collecting his field-glasses as he went.

The coming minutes saw Wayne scanning the horizon through his glasses, while Thunder-ten-tronckh did his best to raise ..anyone who might know where in the world he was.

OOC: First, based on the map of F.B. in the area where is your base located in terms of the map Dyelli? (I'd say closer to Kandi myself)

http://www.eng.auburn.edu/users/donatgw/Loop/rtmap.jpg
Blue--river
Red--paved two lane highway
gray--improved two lane highway (gravel)
green-trail wide enough for a vehicle
purple-trail found to be highly dangerous

Second, based on the concept that this is loompa land we also have horn swagglers, Knidis and swangdoddles (which appear with the Oompa Loompa)

My present history of this area have shown that

Horn Swagglers are dwarf like creatures who are river/ocean pirates and tend to eat anything...human or otherwise...including Oompa Loompa...

Rotten Vernious Kinids--a mythical water beast, has yet to ever be seen.

Swangdoodles--large carnivourus birds that like horse meat, and small humans.

IC:
The Captain in Cross Harbor
Alexander Avenue was at least obvious. The street ran up the hill and had some decent traffic. It appeared someone had attempted to have a median down the center, but only dirt and weeds apeared to be growing there.

Most of the buildings were painted wood, with a few concrete structures intermixed. Two blocks down was a large, three story building constructed of brick. It had only a pair of doors on the first two floor and a line of casement windows on the second and third. Over the doorway was a sign saying V&A Bank.

Upon entering the Bank he found a line that was folded back and forth across the large, open space several times, a velvet cattle pen. A sign at the door stated:

<-----Teller Applications
Bank Services--------->

The line was for the Bank. At the end of the line stood a man in a white shirt with dark pants and a peaked cap on his head. He had a large binder under his arm.

At the Dock
The Customs agent only looked back at him,

"All I know is that most people don't use horses or donkey's in the jungle."

He shakes his head and continues.. "Most woodsmen call them doodle fodder. I guess llama's are not on the menu as much. Hell, all I know is for you to be allowed up river, I need to see that you have food, a safe water supply, and weapons to defend yourself with. That and 120 Kr per person, 100 Kr being refunded if you return alive with your receipt. Now if you need a water filter, you see the large silver building up the hill from here. That's Decamp Outfiters and they may still have some."

Our Lost Brits
On the horizon appeared an island. The outermost of the Outer Islands chain that was the center archipelago of Alcona and Hubris. The island was a large long, high hill rising out of the sea.

OOC: Crap getting left in the dust



IC: The whaler stood off in the harbor, like they had been doing for the past three hours. Calcio stared inland at the hustle about Cross Harbor, and was wondering how far behind they already were. When they had arrived he had seen another large vessle being guided in by the harbor piolets, he was sure that they were other treasure hunters and the frustration was building.

However, for Calico he let the frustration melt away, putting on a calm face of indiference. The same could not be said for Bellamy and his men, who were pacing about deck, shouting curses across the waters and over the radio. Calico was sure that wasnt helping the situation any, the last thing they needed was an angry customes official comming aboard to inspect their cargo.

Nearly another half an hour passed when a small boat approached the whaler. "Gooday, harbor piolet comming aboard to guide you in."

Calico sighed in relief and in minutes they were aboard.

"Sorry bout the wait, but we've been tremendously busy with ship activity. All kinds of foriegn nationalities seem to be all excited about somehting. Ahh, I can see that you're at least from the FKC, seen a couple others from fellow nations as well. Now if you dont mind I'll take the helm."

He took controle of the ship, from a very reluctant captain who stood right behind the piolet and watched over his shoulder every second. Calico made sure to impose his presence in between the harbor piolet and Bellamy's men, who looked as if they would skin him alive.

It wasnt long untill they were finally sitting in the harbor, Bellamy's men worked like seasoned professionals getting their equimpent up on deck and ready to transfer over to the docks. A rather important looking individual strolled up to where they were tied off and Calico knew that their hope of silently arriving was gone.

"Good morrow gentlemen, welcome to Oompa Loompa, as per regulations we must check over your cargo manifest, especially with such a flux in incomming ships."

Calico crossed his fingers and handed their manifest over to the customs official. He did have some foresight in the matter, and took their arms off of the official list hopping to pass the crates off as part of their regular supplies. Bellamy's men continued the unloading process, with the ships winch, seemingly oblivious to the presence of the official.

OOC: Actually it's the March of Goth or Cross Harbor...(A March being a border area that is contested such as the Marches of Wales)

"The officer looked at the Manifest and then stated. What's your destination? Let me guess, with the heavy equipment and the ATV's I'd say your heading for the Ft. Hardtack? In which case, where are your weapons, and your water purificaiton equipment? Oh, and it's 120 Krondor per person to enter the security zone." He looked up at Calico with an open face. He had been dealing with treasure hunters for the past three days, of course people were finding getting out of Cross Harbor to be difficult. With only a few riverboats operating at the moment.

Calico almost sighed in releif, he had been anticipating it being illegal to bring weapons into the nation however, the official talked like it was a regular occurance.

"Our arms are in the crates marked 'survival gear', we werent sure of your policies on bringing in weapons as for water purification that is also a part of our general survival equipment.

Yes we are heading into the hinterlands, with the atv's and hummers I think we will be able to manage. Also we shouldnt have to worry to much upon barges, we have our own watercrafts, that can at least transport people and small equipment. The money is no problem, here you are there are eleven of us."

"Ah well, you don't have them listed so I'm going to have so look at everything in the crates. Sorry, you shouldn't have tampered with your manifest." He shakes his head,

"...And don't worry about losing time. Last I heard the caravans heading out are stuck in a massive traffic jam on the Karndi road, someone blew a bridge over a creek upriver. Had some sixty people killed in that...Now people are trying to hack their way around to a ford some 12 miles up the creek." He waves down to a group of men in gray down at the end of the dock, "We need to have a full inspection of all the cargo off loaded on this tub."

"Very well, we have respect for the laws of our fellow regional nations. They wait wont cost us to much I think. All of us will be happy to oblige." Calico added the last part shooting a glace at Bellamy and his men, who just continued about their work.

"All we have are several small boxes of dynamite, ten pistols and ten assault rifles. Cant be too carefull in these jungles. And amunition for all, that is aside from my weapons which I have declaired."

Calico tried to look about the dock, while talking, to see if he could make out any other treasure hunters.

At Dock 5
The man at the dock was swearing up and down, and not looking pleased. Of course neither were the two Vrakians, who were being told that the package would be delivered when it was freed from the cargo hold. And very little in the way of actual time frame.

“Well,” said Peter, shuffling his feet, “We really could use those crates now. It’s sensitive equipment for the Hydra Group and, you know, we kinda have to stick around to ensure delivery.”

Inside the three ton truck emblazoned with the Hydra Mining logo sat Mark sipping coffee.

At the Governor's Residence

The room seemed to be opulent, especially for an outpost. Dark mahagony bookcases lined the walls and a thick carpet covered the wood floor. The cealing was actually painted in gold and red geometric patterns with a massive chandiler hanging from the center. The room was massive. At one end was a utilitarian metal desk where the lady was seating herself. It appeared as if chairs had been added to the room, enough for senior members of the team. "Could the rest of you please wait out in the hall. I think a less is more approach would be advisable here."

Rick waved to the rest of his men to take a seat outside except for his second Troy Briggs – whose calm demeanor is often needed to diffuse Rick’s hotheadedness.

“Well, let’s see what these guys want. Better phone the office and tell them what’s up.” Turning to the lady at the desk Rick asked, “Can I make a call to my office? I mean, we didn’t expect to be…ah…diverted here.”

At the local Hydra Group offices…

The secretary idly sat, polishing her nails and generally looking bored. Lately with the diamond rush fever there has been an increase of drifters coming in applying for work. The walls were plastered with various promotional and recruitment posters but it seemed that some folks were still leary of working for an outside firm.

‘Joe Smith’ walked in the door and looked around with an easygoing grin. Well hello Mr. Handsome thought the secretary as she quickly put down her polish and, adjusting her blouse to show off her ample bosom, said in a sugary voice, “Can I help you sweetheart?”

Joe turned and smiled, “Yes. I’m looking for a job. You know, this big diamond rush stuff and all.”

“Just fill out this application sweetie and I’ll pass it along. A big crew from HQ is coming in today sometime.”

Joe smiled again. Yes, I know.

At the Hotel Diablo…

‘Gary’ meanwhile slipped down to the local bar and listened in on the local gossip.

Hotel Diablo room 4B…

Frank leaned over the sophisticated communication gear and adjusted the satellite dish for maximum transmission while not trying to appear too obvious. That is, he was sure that a flashy dish hanging outside a window at the Diablo Hotel might attract unwanted attention. He quickly typed out a message with medium encryption:

“Monkey at the gate. Monkey at the gate. Still waiting for bananas. Other monkeys on the ground.”

(OOC) The Dyellians are just North of where the river branches to the North and South, probably a weeks trek North from 'Mad Ferry' or whatever it is you've called it. (Pardon my inability to read that.)

Fletcher awoke suddenly as an explosion rocked the village. Pulling on his coat he stormed out of the hut he had been snoozing in, "Private Yates!" he bellowed.

Yates saluted smartly, "Crocodile gun working Sir!"

Fletcher looked about himself suspiciously, Yates was there grinning eagerly, "Where is it, Private?"

"Over there Sir." Yates hiked his thumb in the direction of a small cluster of Oompa Loompa huts.

Fletcher glared at Yates, who grinned back, oblivious of any bad mood. He strode past him, to the huts, "Private?" he asked quietly.

"Yes Sir?" Yates answered eagerly.

"You didn't fire live ammunition did you?"

"Yes Sir, and it works too."

"I can see that Private, but lets not waste it...get Barker to see if he can convince the Hyrax to start up...and then disassemble that... gun, we're going on a little trip..."

(OOC) Hyrax is a very obsolete Dyelli Beybian tank, it most certainly isn't designed to operate anywhere where there isn't a ready supply of spair parts. Its been sent here as it has a bulldozer blade.

"All right, officer, I believe you," conceded Sir William, throwing his hands up. He clapped twice, and a young Gallagan ran up. "Go to the nearest farm," Sir William instructed, waving his hand. "Trade in the mules for as many llamas as you can get."

He sighed, wishing he has sent Captain MacKenna off with more generals. He had the feeling he would need more currency. "Can I buy weapons around here?" he asked. "Money is no object."

---

Up at the bank, the captain considered the advantages of a river boat as he waited to change the money in a dingy little bank. The city itself didn't remind him of the well established Iansislean colonies, such as Nusheld, Fort Ash, Port Laughlin, or Fort Manly. It was so much more...primitive. More like Galla-China, he supposed, but the captain had never been there.

"Hello," he grunted as he approached the counter. "Y'all change generals, don't ya?"

With a roar the dual engines of the Hyrax roared into life, a few moment's later Barker's head emerged from the turret hatch. He was a small dark man with thick black moustaches, "It's working Sir." he explained.

Fletcher nodded back, "Good man." he answered noncomitally.

Fletcher knew the history of the Hyrax. The original project had been abandoned when it was revealed the turret was too weak to support enough armour to stop anything much except small arms fire and when it was revealed the budget armour had a disturbing tendency to rust horribly when left in the open, what is more the dual engine design had caused inumerable problems with breakdowns. Private Yates had found a spray can at some stage, and carefully sprayed 'Skull Crusher' onto the side of the hull. Fletcher suspected that it wouldn't make it as far as any skulls to crush.

Yates had seated himself behind the bulldozer blade, the sole redeeming feature on the vehicle, meanwhile Sergeant Fish was passing up disassembled sections of the Crocodile gun up to Barker. "are we leaving Sir?" Yates asked.

"Yes." Fletcher answered, "just as soon as we get some supplies onto this thing."

"We've already got your rum Sir." Barker called out, "Stored in the main hull where its nice and safe and won't get hit by stray bullets."

"Excellent." Fletcher smiled, "I think we're all set then...Fish, you're in charge until I get back."

Fish saluted smartly, as Fletcher leaped onto the front of the tank, and scrambled into the turret. Barker had disapeared into the interior.

Fletcher picked up the intercom, "Private, are you ready. Over."

"Yes Sir. Over." Barker's voice crackled back.

"Right then, onwards! Let's drive a path through this damned country, next stop Fort Hardtack...Over"

The dual engines strained to power the rusting vehicle Southward. Yates looked excited in his seat on the front of the vehicle. Three hours later he and Fletcher sat in the cramped interior of the turret as Barker struggled to restart the engines, a tropical rain drummed on the outside. It was going to be a long journey Fletcher mused, and he'd forgotten to pack socks.

Just as the young baron was sizing up the biscuit tin, wondering which of its contents would be most likely to catch him a fish (he was sick of biscuits, and fearing he'd never get off this damn boat) a loud bellow escaped Sir Henry.

"Land! Land, by jove! I've found it!"

Yes Thunder-ten-tronckh mused, you have.. that's why I am at the wheel..

Half an hour later the good ship Intrepid approached the Outer Islands of A&H, Wayne assuming, and Thunder-ten-tronckh hoping that they were looking at Cross Harbour.

Sir Henry gathered his luggage- most of which being Walmingtonian pound notes, fitted into a single satchel, which was swung over his tweed jacket (Walmingtonians seem to think tweed the proper material for exploring jungles and such). The baron cautiously steered the rickety old trawler towards the coast, and wondered if they'd have a decent tea shop.

The Jiggady Team
"Very well, we have respect for the laws of our fellow regional nations. They wait wont cost us to much I think. All of us will be happy to oblige." Calico added the last part shooting a glace at Bellamy and his men, who just continued about their work.

"All we have are several small boxes of dynamite, ten pistols and ten assault rifles. Cant be too carefull in these jungles. And amunition for all, that is aside from my weapons which I have declaired."

Calico tried to look about the dock, while talking, to see if he could make out any other treasure hunters.

The Customs official and his guards were rapid and efficient. They had boxes opened, items checked off the manifest. Calico’s crews was then told repack the crates and move inside the warehouse behind them. At the same time, one of the guards went to each of the 11 men listed and demanded a name, nationality, age, and next of kin. They then received a small 5 by 8 card with some of the data carbon copied on it, and a red number of some eleven digits printed across two corners. They were admonished with “Don’t lose this unless you don’t want to have a marked grave or get back your Krondor”

The harbor activity seemed to be primarily small boats and craft running from one shore to the other. Five massive, modern docks rose up to the south. While the older dock he was on seemed to be filling up with other ships. And other teams. The odd thing was that most of the north sides of the docks stood empty or with a few barges that were loaded. He couldn’t see much of Dock 2, which had a large sign on it, due to the massive grain elevator that rose up next to him.

In the end the inspector was happy, and signed off on them leaving. Noting that it would take them days to drive the heavy equipment anywhere near Hardtack.

At Dock 5
“Well,” said Peter, shuffling his feet, “We really could use those crates now. It’s sensitive equipment for the Hydra Group and, you know, we kinda have to stick around to ensure delivery.”

Inside the three ton truck emblazoned with the Hydra Mining logo sat Mark sipping coffee.

“Not even his Grace is going to get faster service. Unless one of you happens to be a crane operator and the other can drive a forklift…” He turned from his statement when the sound of ‘Oompa Doompa’ could be heard over the machinery. He grabs up the megaphone at this side, turns it far to high, letting a screach out. He then drops down the volume and then screams…”NO Do Not Sing…Work….Work you Orange B**** or I’ll find a big ass Kinid and feed you to it…”

He turns back, “Listen, you can sit there till doomsday, which may be when we unload your ship if this crap continues…”
The Palace
Rick waved to the rest of his men to take a seat outside except for his second Troy Briggs – whose calm demeanor is often needed to diffuse Rick’s hotheadedness.

“Well, let’s see what these guys want. Better phone the office and tell them what’s up.” Turning to the lady at the desk Rick asked, “Can I make a call to my office? I mean, we didn’t expect to be…ah…diverted here.”

At that moment, the phone on her desk rang, she picked it up and listened for a moment. A frown forming on her face. “Yeah, rotate a Rotodyene patrol along the river….I’d say from the line to Black creek(OOC: about 1/2 to Marl Ferry from Hardtack)…yeah, I’ll get his authorization soon. He’s occupied with his secretary…..Warning then use deadly force, we are not playing with them anymore. Set a roadblock at Cliffton until that group opens up the old trail to the ford…..Damn it, tell them the truth…sugar is expensive around here…”

She hangs up the phone. “I’m afraid that I’d like to have you call someone, but not your regional office. Although, your local secretary did screw up the paperwork…I’m wondering how much your willing to pay for some assistance, such as the geological records of a private mining firm already in the area…and someone to negotiate with the local tribes.” She has an odd look on her face as she takes a seat.
http://www.eng.auburn.edu/users/donatgw/Loop/mars2.jpg

The Diablo Bar
The people are talking, mainly rumors are that the Markgrave is going to be on the way out with the recent bombing. And speculation as to who the new Markgrave will be....

There is also talk about people who have been killed, and about that the Wolverine mine already has all the dimmonds. That is a platnium mine, a mine digging up the lost civilization of the Oompa Loompas...A government facility for building nuclear weapons...owned by a secret society of Druids planning a coup. More drunk speculation than anything else...

At Dock 5

He turns back, “Listen, you can sit there till doomsday, which may be when we unload your ship if this crap continues…”

Peter looked at the dock master and replied, “Well, I can operate a forklift but that’s it. Someone else from our office can operate a crane though, I think. Excuse me just a moment.”

Peter strode back to the waiting truck. “By Bok’s maw Mark, it will take all day. These Oompa Loompas are inefficient. Phone the local office and ask them to send a crane operator down.”

The Palace

She hangs up the phone. “I’m afraid that I’d like to have you call someone, but not your regional office. Although, your local secretary did screw up the paperwork…I’m wondering how much your willing to pay for some assistance, such as the geological records of a private mining firm already in the area…and someone to negotiate with the local tribes.” She has an odd look on her face as she takes a seat.

A slow smile spread across Rick’s face as he replied, “I’m sure we can come to a satisfactory arrangement. Hydra does have some mighty deep pockets.”

The Diablo Bar
Gary, after hearing and remembering the local gossip, went back to his room without trying to attract any attention. Frank opened the door after the signal and Gary asked, “I’ve got to take a look at this local map here. As well, we’ve got to track down someone else here real soon. We also might need some more personnel.”

"All right, officer, I believe you," conceded Sir William, throwing his hands up. He clapped twice, and a young Gallagan ran up. "Go to the nearest farm," Sir William instructed, waving his hand. "Trade in the mules for as many llamas as you can get."

He sighed, wishing he has sent Captain MacKenna off with more generals. He had the feeling he would need more currency. "Can I buy weapons around here?" he asked. "Money is no object."

---

Up at the bank, the captain considered the advantages of a river boat as he waited to change the money in a dingy little bank. The city itself didn't remind him of the well established Iansislean colonies, such as Nusheld, Fort Ash, Port Laughlin, or Fort Manly. It was so much more...primitive. More like Galla-China, he supposed, but the captain had never been there.

"Hello," he grunted as he approached the counter. "Y'all change generals, don't ya?"

OOC: My vision had the bank being the least dingy of the town, but O.k. no problem...

The single teller, (there were at least 15 cages along the wall, all empty) looked at the man and then the coinage. He typed in the montary unit into his computer and then stated dryly. "Generals are trading at O.86 USD or about 0.7 Krondor, I'm assuming that you do not have an account with The Victor and Alra Bank so there will be a five percent exchange charge. Based on that I can exchange it for 6,650 Krondor." He smiled...

The Old Dock
"Well the best place is Ravern Outfitters, not much on style. Just on the best equipment, or so I'm told. Their upriver, on the south bank, about a mile past the new bridge. There is nothing wrong with that one rifle you have, but you'd best let everyone be armed or expect them to be croc food..." He hands Sir William all of the registry cards and walks off towards the next group of arrivals...

Sunway Island
OOC: Map of the Outer Islands Archipelego...Outer Islands map (http://www.eng.auburn.edu/users/donatgw/maps/outerislandsmap.jpg)

IC:
Some five hours before the ship had been noted by radar station O-45. And had kept track of the trawler as it headed for the small island. It wasn't one of the local fishing trawlers, a bit small for that. So as it neared the island, a call went out to the local police chief.

"Yeah, Oh...well I don't suppose their pirates...nothing here to steal. Ah their headed for Lotcus Cove over on the westside. Yeah, I'll send a car...well there is only me..." He hung up the receiver, lifted his gun belt upwards, and sauntered out to the old rover that served as the police car on the island. He noted that some of the cattle were mulling around the road again...Damn it, can't Bill keep his heard on his own damn land...idiot he thought as he went back inside to give Bill a peice of his mind...

The boat was approaching the small fishing village of Lotcus Cove...And in someways it looked like Scotland. Well, if you could get over the massively twisted broadleaf trees, the thick patches of forest and the slightly odd color of the high grass lands on the hills around the town. Or the fact that it appeared Disney studios had come by at some moment and built a swiss chalet above town. But the buildings were of whitewshed stone, gathered around the harbor with several large fishing trawlers...At the very end of the small bay, stood a massive two story structure, at the roof was a stone lintel that read...Winder and Bates...1882...below was a fairly newer sign that read...The Commadore Gotha Tavern

OOC: This is going to be fun...

At Dock 5

Peter looked at the dock master and replied, “Well, I can operate a forklift but that’s it. Someone else from our office can operate a crane though, I think. Excuse me just a moment.”

Peter strode back to the waiting truck. “By Bok’s maw Mark, it will take all day. These Oompa Loompas are inefficient. Phone the local office and ask them to send a crane operator down.”

The man looked at him and thought Vrakians...damn efficent people maybe having to carry a walrus on your back gives you some perspective

The Oompa Loompas are moving a massive crate by placing it on a handtruck, who's wheels look like they want to pop off from the weight. Five Loops are holding the crate at an angle, while the rest pull it towards a waiting truck using ropes...The man just shakes his head...Turns and says..."I'll let you help, but you can't just unload your ship, you have to unload the three that are ahead of the one you want."

The Palace



A slow smile spread across Rick’s face as he replied, “I’m sure we can come to a satisfactory arrangement. Hydra does have some mighty deep pockets.”

She returned the smile, "I want an eight precent stake in any mining operation you set up here with a minimum buy back of 80,000 Krondor if nothing materializes. If you do start a mining operation, I want you to secure the loans for a rail line from here to Hardtack, which I presently hold the charter for. For these considerations, you will have both the full assistance of the Wolverine Mining Company, my knowledge of the local tribes and customs, and a safe place to sleep in Hardtack."

The Diablo Bar
The new waitress noted the man leaving. She smiled and took her cigarette break...She walked into a small park across the street, took a seat next to a very old man who was feeding the pigions and started to smoke a very cheap cigrette..."Well, they appear to have some more assets...." She said out of the side of her mouth...

"Understood, we have an interception of a communications to the local Emperial squad. They may also be on the move...see if they show any signs of collaberation...."

"How..."

"Fall in their laps for all I care...you have a mission, complete it..."

The Intrepid chuged into the little bay. Sir Henry Wayne was standing up on the prow, field-glasses raised and brown bowler sitting high on his sandy (if slightly greying) head, while baron Thunder-ten-tronckh stood in the wheel-house, rubbing the dirty little windows with a rag, in an effort to get a glimpse at the village Sir Henry was shouting back to him about.

"Doesn't look like we've come on a major port town after all, Sir Henry.." Ventured the baron.

Wayne barely heard him, being too busy comparing the surroundings to south-eastern Norbray.

"..Or northern Westonshire; were they not both inland." Said the baron, before telling himself off for picking at his companion's every word. He might be a bit pompus, but he's not the devil, Thunder-ten-tronckh. "If this isn't the right place, Sir Henry, I hope they'll have coal. I don't think we've much left!"

"Nonsense, baron! We shall buy one of these boats if our aim is indeed off! Bigger anyway!
"Windso..Winder and Bates. Mean anything to you, Thunder?"

Bates? Mused the baron. Does sound rather familiar..

In the following minutes the Walmingtonian duo sought out acceptable moorings and made eyes at the tavern. Being..well..Walmingtonian, they would have to sample a local ale before doing anything of less importance, like finding out where the devil they'd landed.

The Commadore Gotha Tavern was, well an English pup, or so it appeared. The wood paneling wasn't made of oak, and the cealing was not low, but almost 10 feet above the floor. Well, that and a juke box that was playing...[i]Sie leibt mich...ya...ya...sie leibt mich ya...[i]

On one wall was a large picture of a man in a uniform, the frame was brightly guilded. On each side of the pictures were two flags one appeared to be a naval ensign, and the other had been on several of the other boats. The room had a few men scattered at the tables, and one was leaning on the jukebox staring out the window...

The bartender looked up from his conversation with an old man at the bar and said, "Good Da' Gentlemen, Wha' can I do for ya'?"

"Two pints of your finest local ale, if it please you, and shut that Jerry racket off!" Sir Henry requested with some considerable volume, as he withdrew several large bank notes from a leather wallet in his coat.

The baron stopped to look back through a window towards where they'd come from.

The bartender looks at the knight, "Two pints of Redburn Ale, Aye..."

The man at the jukebox turns, and looks at him..."I'll play what I want, and I have a strong distaste for the term Jerry"

Several men shift in their seats, some eye the man in tweed with an odd look, and others seem to want to string them up.

The older man at the bar looks the two men up and down, then turns back to his beer.

Outside, a line of dark clouds can be seen moving in from the northwest.

OOC: My vision had the bank being the least dingy of the town, but O.k. no problem...

(oops, sorry. I was a little...out of it last night.)

On second consideration, the bank was a degree nicer than the captain's initial judgment. Perhaps arrogance, or comparing it to one of the U.B.C.'s branch offices had clouded his judgment.

The single teller, (there were at least 15 cages along the wall, all empty) looked at the man and then the coinage. He typed in the montary unit into his computer and then stated dryly. "Generals are trading at O.86 USD or about 0.7 Krondor, I'm assuming that you do not have an account with The Victor and Alra Bank so there will be a five percent exchange charge. Based on that I can exchange it for 6,650 Krondor." He smiled...

The captain winced, staring at the small pile of thousand general coins. Sir William wouldn't be too happy about that, but they did need native currency. He quickly started to collect the coins, still smiling at the teller.

"That's all right, son. How much would it take to start an account?"

The Old Dock
"Well the best place is Ravern Outfitters, not much on style. Just on the best equipment, or so I'm told. Their upriver, on the south bank, about a mile past the new bridge. There is nothing wrong with that one rifle you have, but you'd best let everyone be armed or expect them to be croc food..." He hands Sir William all of the registry cards and walks off towards the next group of arrivals...

"Feh," mumbled Sir William as the man walked off. He hated being told how to do his job. Then again, perhaps if the Lord Clancy had bothered to inform him what sort of challenges he'd be facing.

"Good morning, Sir William," came a voice from behind him. In his current mood, the explorer wasn't in any temper to be dealing with Dr. Christopher Michan, the geologist Lord Clancy had decided to take around. Sir Willaim spun around to face him.

"So nice of you to join us, doctor," he said, just managing to keep the sarcasm in his voice down to a tolerable level. "I was just heading off to town to pick up extra provisions. I hope it wouldn't trouble you too much to watch the ship while I'm gone?"

The little man bit his lower lip, fidgiting for a second. "No, I suppose if you have to go - "

"Brilliant!" exclaimed Sir William, spinning about again. He motioned to the four remaining Gallagan workers, setting off with them in the direction indicated.

Meanwhile, the Iansislean crew stopped working at once. Dr. Michan looked at them; they looked back. "Say, shouldn't you men be working?" he ventured meekly, looking at the large pile of supplies.

"Aye, probably," nodded one, advancing slightly at the tiny Shieldian geologist.

"Of course," squeaked the doctor. "Er, I'll just be aboard ship if you need anything...." The tiny man turned to flee, leaving the crewmen laughing.

One of the larger ones gestured at the rest. "Come on, forget this. Let's go get some ale!" The rest - nearly a dozen of them - shouted their assent, leaving the pile of supplies sitting on the deck.

The Walmingtonian pair take their seats (or else stand?) at the bar, Thunder-ten-tronckh nudging Sir Henry with his elbow before the old adventurer can finish his witty retort to the gentleman at the juke-box; "I suppose he'd prefer the term kr..". The baron took over, alerting his comrade to the of the incoming clouds.

Wayne was content to mutter about how much harder the weather was while he pioneered Wayneisia, and how unlikely it was for proper Walmingtonians to be influenced in their enterprises by something so trite as a storm.

Thunder-ten-tronckh's right hand unconsciously tapped on the handly of the black umbrella which hung over his left forearm.

The captain winced, staring at the small pile of thousand general coins. Sir William wouldn't be too happy about that, but they did need native currency. He quickly started to collect the coins, still smiling at the teller.

"That's all right, son. How much would it take to start an account?"

((OOC: I miss read someplace, I thought he had a single 10,000 general coin.))

The teller looked at the captain, and the line behind him. "The minimum amount for an account is 500 Krondor, for one that has free foriegn exchange is a minimum balance of 20,000 Krondor. Might I advise a wire transfer of funds? We only charge 2% for transfers from foriegn banks to non-account holders, the minimum charge is only 500 Krondor."

The Old Dock


"Brilliant!" exclaimed Sir William, spinning about again. He motioned to the four remaining Gallagan workers, setting off with them in the direction indicated.

They followed the river. Along what was marked as River Road (off the route that Captain took), they could see a crowd around the front of the same building, but then followed an intersection back towards the river. Large warehouses seemed to be on the land side, some new, some old, some nothing more than pole barns. The road was concrete, and appeared to see heavy use.

The road ran below the new bridge. The bridge appeared to be supported by a thin concrete arch that reached 90 feet above the river. It had only thin, concrete supports linging in to the roadway above. The bridge seemd to launch from a high bank on the north side of the river to a man made escarpment on the southern side.

After crossing the bridge, they found a "road" that was more of a continous, wooden shorline dock running along the shore. On one side the wide river boiled, with small and medium sized boats tied up. The other side was filled with wooden and metal buildings most rising two stories above the dock. Near the end rose A massive, barn like structure that seemed in scale with the wide river. The words Raven Outfiters painted in black on the red wall.

Inside was a cathedral of supplies for the explorer, hunter, and outdoorsman. Two levels of wide balconies stuffed with gear stood over the central floor that looked prepared to equip a small army. In one corner was even a radiothermal generator. At the very center was a gruff man sitting behind a circular counter, several dogs of mixed heritage layed on the wooden floor around him.

****

One of the larger ones gestured at the rest. "Come on, forget this. Let's go get some ale!" The rest - nearly a dozen of them - shouted their assent, leaving the pile of supplies sitting on the deck.

Out of one of the partially fallen sheds came a group of small men, with orange faces and green hair. They wore dark blue shirts and overalls. They began to move the supplies towards a barge that was tied up to the other side of the dock.

One of the gray uniformed guards came around the corner...and stopped They hired native porters fast...wait... "Hey, you Loopa...where are you taking all of this stuff..."

The Loopa nearest the man began to sing, horribly out of tune...and the others didn't join in right away, but started to after a breif hesitation "Oompa Loompa Dopity Doo, I've got a middle for you...."

The guard yelled..."Horn Swagglers!," and hit a button on his radio as he also raised his submachinge gun with his other hand...

The sound of a series of small bangs exploded over the harbor...and the rat a tat of a submachine gun returning fire followed...

The Walmingtonian pair take their seats (or else stand?) at the bar, Thunder-ten-tronckh nudging Sir Henry with his elbow before the old adventurer can finish his witty retort to the gentleman at the juke-box; "I suppose he'd prefer the term kr..". The baron took over, alerting his comrade to the of the incoming clouds.

Wayne was content to mutter about how much harder the weather was while he pioneered Wayneisia, and how unlikely it was for proper Walmingtonians to be influenced in their enterprises by something so trite as a storm.

Thunder-ten-tronckh's right hand unconsciously tapped on the handly of the black umbrella which hung over his left forearm.

The old man, seated down the bar turned to them. "So what brings you two gentlemen to Lotcus? And may I remark what a wonderful tweed coat you have on sir, perchance may I enquire where you purchased it?"

He had an odd accent, but it denoted education. And an aged face that was at odds with his bright, animated blue eyes. He seemed to have a full hair that was startling white.

The teller looked at the captain, and the line behind him. "The minimum amount for an account is 500 Krondor, for one that has free foriegn exchange is a minimum balance of 20,000 Krondor. Might I advise a wire transfer of funds? We only charge 2% for transfers from foriegn banks to non-account holders, the minimum charge is only 500 Krondor."

The captain was quickly becoming confused by the banking terms, as well as astounded by the high rates charged for everything. He played with the coins, considering while the eyes of the people behind him in line burned into his back.

"I...I suppose transfering from the account Lord Clancy set up would be the best idea," decided MacKenna, pulling out the numbers Sir William had given him. "It's with the United Banking Concerns, of Lakeriverwood. Sir William told me it has five million generals in it...I suppose transfering a few hundred thousand of them wouldn't hurt." After all, he thought, then we can just withdraw whenever we need these....Krondor ...things...

Still, the volume of currency being exchanged astounded the captain. Iansisle was famous -- infamous, perhaps -- for its sharp rich-poor divide. In the poorer sectors, a loaf of bread would only cost a half-general; a brand new moving picture box between one hundred and twenty and two hundred generals. The average salary was only five generals per day.

In the richer sections, of course, million-general coins were exchanged like so many sticks of gum. But the captain, coming from a poor background knew nothing about that style of life - the style that Sir William knew.

The Old DockThey followed the river. Along what was marked as River Road (off the route that Captain took), they could see a crowd around the front of the same building, but then followed an intersection back towards the river. Large warehouses seemed to be on the land side, some new, some old, some nothing more than pole barns. The road was concrete, and appeared to see heavy use.

The road ran below the new bridge. The bridge appeared to be supported by a thin concrete arch that reached 90 feet above the river. It had only thin, concrete supports linging in to the roadway above. The bridge seemd to launch from a high bank on the north side of the river to a man made escarpment on the southern side.

After crossing the bridge, they found a "road" that was more of a continous, wooden shorline dock running along the shore. On one side the wide river boiled, with small and medium sized boats tied up. The other side was filled with wooden and metal buildings most rising two stories above the dock. Near the end rose A massive, barn like structure that seemed in scale with the wide river. The words Raven Outfiters painted in black on the red wall.

Inside was a cathedral of supplies for the explorer, hunter, and outdoorsman. Two levels of wide balconies stuffed with gear stood over the central floor that looked prepared to equip a small army with eqipment. In one corner was even a radiothermal generator. At the very center was a gruff man sitting behind a circular counter, several dogs of mixed heritage layed on the wooden floor around him.

Now that he was away from the dock, the customs man, and the doctor, Sir William was feeling quite liberated. He gamely chatted with the workers, admiring the engineering feats. Perhaps this wasn't such a bad place, after all. He'd certainly seen worse at the Company outposts strewn across Gallaga, which tended to degrade once one left the cultivated centers of civilization such as Fort Ash, Nusheld, or St. Walburg.

At last, he found the place the customs man was talking about. He even held the door open for his workers, who gazed about in wonder at the modern equipment. Sir William followed them in, bowing slightly to the gruff man.

"Good day, shopkeep. I am Sir William Fitzgerald, of the Shield. I need to procure certain provisions, including weaponry and water refinement devices. I wonder if you could help me?"

Out of one of the partially fallen sheds came a group of small men, with orange faces and green hair. They wore dark blue shirts and overalls. They began to move the supplies towards a barge that was tied up to the other side of the dock.

One of the gray uniformed guards came around the corner...and stopped They hired native porters fast...wait... "Hey, you Loopa...where are you taking all of this stuff..."

The Loopa nearest the man began to sing, horribly out of tune...and the others didn't join in right away, but started to after a breif hesitation "Oompa Loompa Dopity Doo, I've got a middle for you...."

The guard yelled..."Horn Swagglers!," and hit a button on his radio as he also raised his submachinge gun with his other hand...

The sound of a series of small bangs exploded over the harbor...and the rat a tat of a submachine gun returning fire followed...

The men probably heard the explosions and gun fire, but they had already set their sights on a rough and tumble looking pub near the docks. No mere firefight was going to turn them back.

Dr. Michan, on the other hand, peered down over the side of the Vagabond, staring at the unfolding scene...

"Loctus eh? Never heard of it!" Chuckled Wayne. "Sir Henry Wayne of Chaspot, tamer of Wayneisia, and this is my associate baron Thunder-ten-tronckh." The baron nodded over Sir Henry's shoulder. "..we're on our way to ..Umpala Lumpurr.." The knight continued. "..to make our fortunes..bigger!"

Thunder-ten-tronckh smiled and checked his pocket watch.

"Jacket's from Cooksey's of Eastgate Street.. in Great Walmington, of course. They're considering opening branches in London, Paris, and Ianapalis, I hear.." Wayne rambled, recounting idle speculation he'd heard in a bar somewhere, or possibly invented there in a drunken haze.

"Need to get to Cross Harbour.." The baron piped up.

Fletcher whalloped the radio, it was barely audible, despite the fact that they'd stopped for the evening, or more truthfully, until the engines had cooled down enough to move again, but he was fairly certain "Bück dich" was not a communication from back in base,

"Damnit, Yates, what are you looking at there?" he asked the Private, who's head had disapeared out the top of the turret.

"There's a funny monkey with big teeth up in the trees Sir."

Fletcher swore and hauled Yates back inside, slamming the hatch down, "What have I told you about monkeys with big teeth Private?"

"They attack people." Yates grinned eagerly.

"Der Zweibeiner hat sich gebückt..."

"Do you see anything slightly silly about what you were doing private?"

Yates looked puzzled, "No Sir."

"in ein gutes Licht gerückt..."

"Never mind private....maybe you can tell me why this bloody radio only seems to pick up German music."

By the time they finally got done dealing with the customs official, packing up what got unpacked and unloading the rest of their supplies, it was too late to start out into the jungle.

All three hummers were packed to the brim with the gear, just about everything except for the ATV's which they put into overnight storage along with the hummers.

"Alright, now what agent man? We've already been delayed countless hours, and you dont want to head out now." Bellamy talked as he chewed some tobacco, spitting a large wad out onto the sidewalk. Several passerbys looked back in disgust however, Bellamy just sneered back.

"Look Bellamy, why dont we get one thing clear right now. I organized this expedition, I fronted the money for everything so far. That means that this is my show, I will be the one calling all the shots. You and your men are just hired help, so just sit back and shut your mouths untill you have some input that pertains to the expedition."

As Calico spoke, Goldie began moving up from the back of the men. All the while staring directly into Calico's eyes, now standing next to Bellamy, Goldie crossed his arms and tried to look imposing. However, Calico knew Goldie and was not affected by his attempts at intimidation and they both knew that sooner or later they would finally have it out.

"Ok, now that you said your piece, remember when we are out there in the woods lots of things can happen. Accidents that can be blamed on the local wildlife, so you just remember that there are ten of us, so you dont want to have a mutiny on your hands. Now lets find a damn place to stay." Bellamy brushed past Calico, the rest of his men following suit, Goldie in peticular giving Calico a hard shoulder.

When the rabble past, Calico turned around himself and strolled along the street. They had all agreed that the Diablo Hotel was probably the best place to get a room, in fact they werent even sure if there were any other hotels in this city.

---------------
At the hotel, getting the rooms was a bit of hassel. The manager at the desk kept insisting that they were completly booked. However, with a little bit of persuasion, a sack full of Kronors, he was suddenly able to find rooms, though they would have to sleep three ,four and four.

Instead of going to bed, Calico hung around the bar looking to see if there were anyothers that were here for the diamonds that he could strike up a conversation with.

The captain was quickly becoming confused by the banking terms, as well as astounded by the high rates charged for everything. He played with the coins, considering while the eyes of the people behind him in line burned into his back.

"I...I suppose transfering from the account Lord Clancy set up would be the best idea," decided MacKenna, pulling out the numbers Sir William had given him. "It's with the United Banking Concerns, of Lakeriverwood. Sir William told me it has five million generals in it...I suppose transfering a few hundred thousand of them wouldn't hurt."

"Very good sir, may I ask you to wait a moment....the teller pressed a green key on the side wall of his cubicle and mubbled a few words into a speaker.

A minute later a tall, red headed woman in a gray buisness suit appeared from somewhere. "Are you the gentlemen who was inquiring about opening an account?" She asked the Captain...before he could even reply she turned and gestured towards the far wall, "Follow me please...."

She began to escort the man down to a door at the far end of of the teller cages, she smiled for a moment as buzz was heard. And they entered a long cooridor to a second door. Where she then swiped through a card. The room was the same height as the lobby, but the floors were not tile, but marble. The walls had wood panelling and several desks filled the tall, narrow space. At one side was a vault door. An armed guard stood next to the door. "Please, have a seat, now then...you wanted to make a wire transfer of funds to open an account? Checking, Money Market, Secured Deposit, Investment, or Savings..." her voice was almost intoxicating...

The Outfiters
"Good day, shopkeep. I am Sir William Fitzgerald, of the Shield. I need to procure certain provisions, including weaponry and water refinement devices. I wonder if you could help me?"

"Well, I've never heard of that noble order, but we do carry most anything a man or woman needs to survive in any clim'. Na, I can see your a man of quality who's come to e'joy our little Jungle. Saw I'm gona ask, how much ya want ta spend and how many men ya got on da first item.

He rises and opens an armored door in the back wall, waving the Knight to follow.
For da second, I've got a load a wepons, but most chose one na three weapons. Da first is da M-16, I carry it...it work well but...."He shrugs..

"Na here we'd have the dependble reliable Ak-47, a good weapon for dis area, I've even got some more advan't versions in here..."

He goes back a little farther into the rows of weapons, "Na da Marines use dis..." He pulls up an odd pup gun assult rifle. "It's a weird caliber, 5.58...It'll stop most men with one shot, some take two...only a few nations use it...odd caliber and all. Not recommended to be hauled outside ah Alconian or Crockfur territory...but it work well designed fur humidity and getting wet, reliable as da AK but lightweight too, also have dis nice granade launcher attachment, good for killing da crocs...unlike da AK...."

He then turns to what looks like a small machine gun. "Nah here we have da best gun fur da area, Dis is a Squad Support gun, can fire like a machine gun, but got da range of a short sniper. Da military use dis in lot capacities. It be a good gun when ya got a good marksmen using it. Not great as either a snipe or a machine, but den it's built to be multi-task...fur your unexpected situations..."
He turns and waves at the large vault area, and rows of weapons.."Nah, If ya got any requests I might be able ta fill it..."
The Dock

Dr. Michan, on the other hand, peered down over the side of the Vagabond, staring at the unfolding scene...

He smelled gunsmoke from powder shot filling the air. On the dock below several small men in blue were running off with various peices of supplies and heading off to what looked like a barge...

On the wooden slats lay three of the small figures...blood pooling out of their bullet ridden bodies. A gray lump lay a bit off, shifting and moaning... A large group of gray running figures was approching from the shore.

A new sound was heard, as the rear of the barge exploded outwards with some form of fast boat racing out and up-river. As it banked, a column of water appeared where it had been...as the speed boat vanished past out of view, three gunboats appeared from somewhere further down the estuary. They seemed to be pushing their speed, as the guns of the odd tank like turrets midship were pointed into the air, due to the speed of the boats.

Elsewhere sirens went off...an odd sound, more like an Uba...Uba...Uba

The Craken
It was a whole in the wall, litterally. At some point the previous building on the site had been all but destroyed, and some enterprising soul had used the standing brick wall to form the front of his bar. The walls were corragated metal, and the cealing appeared to be of the same material, held in place by telephone polls. This was one of those places you stood at the bar because there wasn't any room for chairs. It was empty, except the clink of pool could be heard from the darkness behind the bar.

"Welcome gents, what will it be...beer, good beer, or wiskey...And ya better show da color ah your coin before ya get a drop..." He heard the sound of the guns...and the warning siren. He looked at something under the counter, and smiled...

"Loctus eh? Never heard of it!" Chuckled Wayne. "Sir Henry Wayne of Chaspot, tamer of Wayneisia, and this is my associate baron Thunder-ten-tronckh." The baron nodded over Sir Henry's shoulder. "..we're on our way to ..Umpala Lumpurr.." The knight continued. "..to make our fortunes..bigger!"

Thunder-ten-tronckh smiled and checked his pocket watch.

"Jacket's from Cooksey's of Eastgate Street.. in Great Walmington, of course. They're considering opening branches in London, Paris, and Ianapalis, I hear.." Wayne rambled, recounting idle speculation he'd heard in a bar somewhere, or possibly invented there in a drunken haze.

"Need to get to Cross Harbour.." The baron piped up.

The old man looked back, "Well I'd be John Bates...and the man who you attempted to call a Jerry is our local Baronette, Sir William Simmel..."I've served most of my life in the navy and I've only vauge recollections of hearing of those places. Security breifs most likely. Now for Cross Harbor...I'm afraid you've got a ways to go...well to cross the Alconian Sea, which is known for having nasty reefs and horrid currents. And everywhere else they say you can find hell at the bottom. But I'd say..."

The man at the Jukebox interupts..."Your not going anywhere in your boat, because I think it's listing to port by five degrees...and the mast is looking like it wants to become horizontal quickly..."

"and I'm afraid that your going to have a hard time of it if you don't have any Krondor on you." adds the bar keep who has just noticed that he hasn't been paid in any recognizable currency.

OOC Post: Jiggady--I think your looking for Vrak so I'll not interfere.

D.B. I haven't responded at the moment until you either hit the Kandi/Goth northern highway, or Marl Ferry...but I do like your posts...My German is very rusty, and how in the hell do you type umlauts on this damn thing!

IC:
For those listening to the radio...
This is an Emergency Report for the Cross Harbor area... A warning of a possible Horn Swaggler attack has been announced this evening from a milita member working the docks...more information to follow...However, all visitors are recommended to stay in a secure location until the all clear is given. Remember, the diffrence between an Oompa Loompa and a Horn Swaggler are skin color, hair color, and one will tend to try to kill you and eat you...the other will just sing moral songs at you about greed, gluttony, and buying Wonka bars...We now return you to our new program The Hardtack Report.....

Good Evening, this is Dawn Trester with Newsday...I'm reporting live from this outpost of civilization, where men and women are seeking fame and fortune.

At present, only more deaths to report, with five more men and two women being killed in violence. This time over what appears to be a 'dimond compass' I can assure you all, that there is no such device. Anyone who attepts to sell you one is a con artist, and should be delt with appropriately.

On a lighter note, the Holy Body of Some Unknown Deity, has orginized a barn dance this saturday. It is entirely a new concept here where there isn't a barn, and the men out number women 4:1. For all new arrivals, it is recommended that you bring dancing shoes, beer and a dancing partner if you wish to particpate.

Our most recent reports indicate that the Massacre Creek ford will be open to auto traffic by noon tommorrow. This by the Uka Tribe that has been paid 100,000 Kr by some wealthy investors. The toll for the using the crossing has been set at 400 Kr for the next week. You can buy advance tickets at Ben and Jerry's Hardware 105 Alexander Street for 380 Kr per vehicle. People attempting not to pay will have their cars pushed into the ravine...who the f*** do they...

Also, avoid drinking Dooberman Creek water as an agrivated Loompa tribe has been seen using it as an open sewer...

That is all from the Reporter in the Jungle...Good night, and don't come out here if your sane...

OOC: My brothers have commandeered the computer again, so I can't post up a full story till tomorrow... but for now...
IC: ###Fasta Benj Herald###
Reports have reached the Fasta Benjian trading posts in the jungles north of Narv-X that the Oompa Loompa people, with whom they trade for sugar and animal pelts are being persecuted over a rumour they are secreting diamonds inside their sacred burial mounds. Chief Watsidu denied the rumours vehemenently, before ceasing trade with Whitecross station. Fortune seekers have already begun crossing the Narv hills on foot, with convoys of Fasta designed ATV's departing the city of westings. The Prince has placed Imperial forces on alert, and they are expected to be deployed to pacify the south eastern posts soon, where rebellions are breaking out against Tzar richards rule.
OOC: I drew some of the animals of the area on the bus in to uni today, and will post this, and all relevant ecology entrys up tomorrow. The FKC ecology section is also up for improvement. please remember the following points: the oompa loompas were put there by KARNDI, so he has some rights over the use of them. My people are nowhere near the rest of you. the ptangptang and the domokun are very rare and elusive creatures. (me, dyelli & Narv have plans for a story focussing on these) Please don't tell any Fasta or Dyellian citizen about the ptangs.

D.B. I haven't responded at the moment until you either hit the Kandi/Goth northern highway, or Marl Ferry...but I do like your posts...My German is very rusty, and how in the hell do you type umlauts on this damn thing!

OOC: Yeah fair enough, I wasn't expecting a response until my guys reached somewhere sensible...I'll probably have them arrive somewhere the story after next. I've been getting the umlauts by copying and pasting from Wordperfect...I'm not exactly a German speaker either but I've been copying and pasting from certain documents I have.

Fletcher peered through the binoculars at the beast on the far bank, inside he could hear Yates reassembling the Crocodile gun, "That is one big b*stard...you don't get one's like that on the Djel these days...must be 40 years old...at least."

The crocodile slept on blissfully, probably having just dined on some hapless elephant, Fletcher supposed, "It must be 17 metres long..the ecologists said there were some big bulls on this river, but you never really expect to see them."

"Gun's done Sir...do you want to shoot it?"

"No Private, its not bothering us, and if we hit it in the wrong place we'd just make it angry, and besides, it would almost be a shame...if it comes for us though..."

The muzzle of the gun was already protruding next to Fletcher, he hoisted himself out of the turret and helped Yates manhandle the gun out of the turret and drop the bipod down to brace it against the turret. The gun itself was 1.5 metres long with a tapering "squeeze-bore" barrel that was significantly wider at the chamber than the muzzle. Yates loaded the chamber with a single 20mm round, then closed the chamber and pulled the hammer back, "Remember Private, don't fire unless it's close...but not too close those things move fast."

Yates nodded. Fletcher ducked back inside the turret for a moment, rumaging around inside the space where theoretically there ought to be shells, but where in actuality, there was a pile of assorted trinkets the three had thought might come in handy. He reemerged, triiumphant, clutching a slightly tattered Imperial flag which he proceeded to tie to the radio antena, which was already bent at a worrying angle. "We'll be aproaching civilisation soon, best to let them know who we are... Barker, you can get us moving again...and Yates, keep an eye on that Croc."

The Crocodile awoke to an annoying loud roar, it opened one eye to watch the strange oversized insect on the other bank...it was of little interest, it was nice and sunny. Had it been interested in tanks it might have taken a look at the huge mound of fuel drums haphazzardly strapped to the rear or maybe the deckchair that for some reason was strapped there also, but it wasn't, so it just went back to sleep.

The Imperial Crest and coincidentally Flag
http://www20.brinkster.com/mediaplanet/links/images/dyelliCrest.jpg

OOC: Item #1 on Oompa Loompa's...I've primarily been using non-NS sources about LompaLand and my memories of what Oompa Loompa's were doing in that great cultural eddifice Willy Wonka
I've only noted the coloration, the work ethic, and the annoying moralistic singing and dancing.
The Horn Swagglers are from some other writters who have made them well, similar creatures to Oompa's. Other concepts I haven't imported primarily since they don't mesh well with the original movie.

Any variation between Karndi and My Oompa's can be a eastern/western tribe variance. (Or a north/south) Although if what I'm afraid happens soon RL might change things in this thread dramaticly.
(I've tried to negotate the diffrences but Karndi appears on vacation :? )

Item #2. I'll note that ptangs are not actually mentioned in any Alconian text...

She began to escort the man down to a door at the far end of of the teller cages, she smiled for a moment as buzz was heard. And they entered a long cooridor to a second door. Where she then swiped through a card. The room was the same height as the lobby, but the floors were not tile, but marble. The walls had wood panelling and several desks filled the tall, narrow space. At one side was a vault door. An armed guard stood next to the door. "Please, have a seat, now then...you wanted to make a wire transfer of funds to open an account? Checking, Money Market, Secured Deposit, Investment, or Savings..." her voice was almost intoxicating...

Her voice was especially intoxicating to the captain, who knew next to nothing about banking affairs. He stared blankly as she continued to list options, sucked in by the stunning office and the pleasant sound of competence. If she tried to lead him in to anything, it would prove an easy task.

MacKenna shook his head, trying to concentrate. "Erm, savings...I suppose...sounds good..."

The Outfiters"Well, I've never heard of that noble order, but we do carry most anything a man or woman needs to survive in any clim'. Na, I can see your a man of quality who's come to e'joy our little Jungle. Saw I'm gona ask, how much ya want ta spend and how many men ya got on da first item.

Sir William was going to correct the shopkeeper about his title, but decided against it. "I'm taking myself, five Gallagan porters, and one lump of dead weight. Money is no object, but I'm afraid I only have Iansislean generals right now."

He rises and opens an armored door in the back wall, waving the Knight to follow.
For da second, I've got a load a wepons, but most chose one na three weapons. Da first is da M-16, I carry it...it work well but...."He shrugs..

Sir Henry grasped the M-16, before raising an eyebrow at the shopkeep. "Made of plastic? What is this, some sort of toy?" He quickly handed it back. "Thank you, but I'll continue to examine my options." Behind him, one of the porters pointed at the M-16, speaking rapidly in Delta Gallagan. Sir Henry knew enough of the language to understand, and hoped the shopkeeper didn't.

"Na here we'd have the dependble reliable Ak-47, a good weapon for dis area, I've even got some more advan't versions in here..."

"Now this feels a little more like a weapon," nodded Sir Henry, feeling the traditional Kalashnikov. He looked up. "This is so light," he mused, examining the back of the gun. "Must be hard to chamber a round, though. Look how awkwardly the bolt is positioned."

He goes back a little farther into the rows of weapons, "Na da Marines use dis..." He pulls up an odd pup gun assult rifle. "It's a weird caliber, 5.58...It'll stop most men with one shot, some take two...only a few nations use it...odd caliber and all. Not recommended to be hauled outside ah Alconian or Crockfur territory...but it work well designed fur humidity and getting wet, reliable as da AK but lightweight too, also have dis nice granade launcher attachment, good for killing da crocs...unlike da AK...."

As soon as Sir William saw the bullpup design, he had rejected it. In a polite manner, he listened to the shopkeepers explination. As the metric system was entirely unknown in Iansisle, he chuckled when the shopkeeper appeared to describe it as the same caliber as a light cruiser's main armament. Looks more like a .223 to me, he thought. "No, thank you," he nodded at the end of the discourse, waving his hand. "Any other designs to show me?"

He then turns to what looks like a small machine gun. "Nah here we have da best gun fur da area, Dis is a Squad Support gun, can fire like a machine gun, but got da range of a short sniper. Da military use dis in lot capacities. It be a good gun when ya got a good marksmen using it. Not great as either a snipe or a machine, but den it's built to be multi-task...fur your unexpected situations..."
He turns and waves at the large vault area, and rows of weapons.."Nah, If ya got any requests I might be able ta fill it..."

Sir William examined the gun carefully, looking up at the shopkeeper with a raised eyebrow. "This small a gun's capable of full automatic fire?" he asked, scratching his chin. "Seems rather hard to believe...at what caliber?"

Afterwards, he nodded, putting in a request for the Galveston and Sons Model 74B Main Battle Rifle*, the weapon he was carrying. The AK-47 intrigued him, and he was frankly confused by the Squad Support gun.

The Dock
He smelled gunsmoke from powder shot filling the air. On the dock below several small men in blue were running off with various peices of supplies and heading off to what looked like a barge...

On the wooden slats lay three of the small figures...blood pooling out of their bullet ridden bodies. A gray lump lay a bit off, shifting and moaning... A large group of gray running figures was approching from the shore.

A new sound was heard, as the rear of the barge exploded outwards with some form of fast boat racing out and up-river. As it banked, a column of water appeared where it had been...as the speed boat vanished past out of view, three gunboats appeared from somewhere further down the estuary. They seemed to be pushing their speed, as the guns of the odd tank like turrets midship were pointed into the air, due to the speed of the boats.

Elsewhere sirens went off...an odd sound, more like an Uba...Uba...Uba

Dr. Michan couched in terror on the side of the Vagabond, wishing that Sir William or Captain MacKenna were there. This wasn't at all what he had signed up for, not at all. Just waltz into a jungle, make some calculations, pick up a few diamonds, and back to the Commonwealth and civilization.

And now the workers had left, there was gunfire, and it even looked like someone was dead. I should go down and try to help, his moral compass said. Yeah, right, his brain said, Then it'd be you lying down there as well! He decided that staying where he was would be the best idea.

The Craken
It was a whole in the wall, litterally. At some point the previous building on the site had been all but destroyed, and some enterprising soul had used the standing brick wall to form the front of his bar. The walls were corragated metal, and the cealing appeared to be of the same material, held in place by telephone polls. This was one of those places you stood at the bar because there wasn't any room for chairs. It was empty, except the clink of pool could be heard from the darkness behind the bar.

"Welcome gents, what will it be...beer, good beer, or wiskey...And ya better show da color ah your coin before ya get a drop..." He heard the sound of the guns...and the warning siren. He looked at something under the counter, and smiled...

The largest of the workers, a bulky Gadsanian, leaned on the bar. "Me coin's the best there is, a standard Commonwealth general." He lay a one general piece on the counter. "Gimmie a stout," he ordered, "and give it a head too thick t'see through!"

The others tried to crowd around him, making similar orders.

(* If you do have it, I'd suppose it'd be as a hunting rifle. The M74B is a bolt-action .303 with a 15 round reusable magazine clip.)

MacKenna shook his head, trying to concentrate. "Erm, savings...I suppose...sounds good..."

She smiled and said, "Ah yes...can I have the account number that the money is to be transfered from? You can enter it on the number pad infront of you if you desire." Her eyes seemed to be amused by something.

The Outfiters

The shopkeeper looked at him for a moment and thought Blooming traditionalist... Ah, dat's not a common order in dese parts...I got one...no, two in stock, I got...loads ah ammo. Da man who ordered dem, well a croc got him. Nah, If yah want a reliable weapon fur da boys." He nodded at the Knights compatriots..."I got this..." He picks up a weapon that looks very much like a Long Enfeild Rifle, with a bannana clip and a plastic stock. "This is a Martin and Howes, 88 rifle. It's got a 7.62 caliber, or a 0.30 in some parlences, has good range and is lightweight. Nah da replaced da wood with plastic, but can take massive abuse and is light weight. And it be either single shot or semi-auto, for dose dan't can't shoot all dat strait. And ya may want it..."

He walks back out to the counter and retreives a handbook labled...
Klacthian CreaturesA guide to the oddities of the Klacthian Peninsula and how not to be killed by them. "Dis shows ya why firepower in da Jungle is a good thing."

He starts to look through a small booklet on the table and then recalls something...

"I also have some of those English Enfeilds running around, same caliber as your 74B Main Battle Rifle, not as good tolerances though as your perfered choice."

He places his finger in the book as a mark and continues..."Nah, I have a feeling your doing a cash transaction. I take five percent off fur da exchange rate...have to with the banks and all...For water, I'd say with a seven person team"

He leans a bit forward and more quietly notes "being dat dead weight needs more water."

He looks up for a moment, "A Kata Camp water filter should do ya fine. Only 70 Krondor or 105 Generals."

He was suddenly disturbed by the fact he could hear small booms coming from outside..."Hey was dat a...sh**..." He grabs a squad support rifle that has a large scope attached from under the counter and runs to a small window...and points it outside...

The Dock
The milita are standing around, while a group of what appear to be corpsmen treats the wounded man. They are not letting anyone interfere in with either the bodies or the remaining supplies.

The Craken

The largest of the workers, a bulky Gadsanian, leaned on the bar. "Me coin's the best there is, a standard Commonwealth general." He lay a one general piece on the counter. "Gimmie a stout," he ordered, "and give it a head too thick t'see through!"

The others tried to crowd around him, making similar orders.


"Not to burst ya bubble" The bartender looks at him.."We got two problems, I ain't got no stout, and dat I'll buy you a bag of fried patato skins in town. Ya need two for da cheap stuff, four for an ale. I'll give ya a break and let ya have a shot of whiskey for that much. Go to Mac's up da street for stout, but it will cost ya a full five of your coin for a pint up there." He has backed up a bit, realising that the paltry buying power of their coin was not going to make them happy.

She smiled and said, "Ah yes...can I have the account number that the money is to be transfered from? You can enter it on the number pad infront of you if you desire." Her eyes seemed to be amused by something.

"Ah, sure," answered the captain, squinting down at the number pad. Slowly, he punched the correct numbers in, then looked up, quite pleased with himself. "That right?" he asked, sure it was. Of course, he hadn't pressed any 'enter', 'ok', or 'submit' type buttons, not aware that he was probably supposed to. "Fancy place," he smiled.

The Outfiters

"I'll take both M74Bs you have in stock, along with whatever ammunition you can provide, please," replied Sir William, very pleased with himself. Then he was handed the booklet by the owner, and leafed through it quickly. He arched an eyebrow at the shopkeep. "Strange wildlife you have around here. I almost need an armored car (tanks don't exist in Iansisle) just to slog through."

Slapping the booklet against his palm, Sir William considered. While he was a crack shot with the M74B, he wasn't much of a military or weapons man. He looked at the squad support gun again. "This thing, it'll kill one of those, er, 'croc', er, animals?" he asked. "If so, I'll take that as well. You better throw in a AK-47 too, and plenty of rounds for both." He paused to think. "What do you reccomend for the dead weight? A pistol of some sorts? Do you carry the Camstol Guns Mark VII?"

"The Kata Camp, eh? I think that should do fine...though I'd like to purchase some purification pills as well." He shrugged. "Just in case."

Just then, the shopkeeper heard the shots outside, and made his dash. "Wait a minute!" started Sir William, starting after him. Then, the Iansislean heard the noise as well. More out of curiosity than anything, he trailed after the shopkeep and his gun, almost eager to see the thing in action. "What's going on?"

The Dock
The milita are standing around, while a group of what appear to be corpsmen treats the wounded man. They are not letting anyone interfere in with either the bodies or the remaining supplies.

Slowly, Dr. Michan emerged from the Vagabond, noting the missing ship's crew. He approached whoever seemed to be in charge, rubbing his right arm wth his left hand nervously. "I say, what's going on?"

The Craken

"Not to burst ya bubble" The bartender looks at him.."We got two problems, I ain't got no stout, and dat I'll buy you a bag of fried patato skins in town. Ya need two for da cheap stuff, four for an ale. I'll give ya a break and let ya have a shot of whiskey for that much. Go to Mac's up da street for stout, but it will cost ya a full five of your coin for a pint up there." He has backed up a bit, realising that the paltry buying power of their coin was not going to make them happy.

"TWO BLOOMIN' GENERALS FOR A BEER?" bellowed the sailor, quickly snatching his coin back from the table. "Why, that's the lowest-down, rottenist, dirtiest, scummiest trick I've 'eard pulled since the bloody Hun nabbed Capable!" he continued, slamming his hand down on the counter. It was quickly in the air again, waving at the bartender. "Two generals is a half-days salary, an' if you think I'm goin' to spend it on a bit of your watered down piss, you've another think coming! Now, I demand a fair price! I've had a hard couple weeks, I have!"

"Ah, sure," answered the captain, squinting down at the number pad. Slowly, he punched the correct numbers in, then looked up, quite pleased with himself. "That right?" he asked, sure it was. Of course, he hadn't pressed any 'enter', 'ok', or 'submit' type buttons, not aware that he was probably supposed to. "Fancy place," he smiled.

“Fine sir, Ah could you hit the green button that says enter please, And we do pride ourselves on our service” Her smile wasn’t going much of any place.

The Outfiters

Just then, the shopkeeper heard the shots outside, and made his dash. "Wait a minute!" started Sir William, starting after him. Then, the Iansislean heard the noise as well. More out of curiosity than anything, he trailed after the shopkeep and his gun, almost eager to see the thing in action. "What's going on?"

The shopkeeper was looking out the window…when the speed boat passed, about 450 yards from shore. The man turns to the Sir William and starts to say “Damn, Horn Swagglers” but upon seeing the boat sarts to follow a new path…”Oompa Loompa’s on a speed boat?” The firing of a heavy machine gun in the distance announced that something was up…when an ‘Loop’ pulled an RPG from the boat and aimed it down river…well the shopkeeper wasn’t holding off any longer. He crouched slightly and then let a rapid burst of fire off from the gun. Several small figures fell off the speed boat, and it swerved to avoid the fire.

The RPG launched, but the arc was too high and it, but only hit the water nearby.
The escaping boat had lost ground….a sudden loud rat-tat was heard and the speed boat exploded into small fragments. Some of the orange skinned people vanished under the water, others were floating among the debris.

The store owner walked outdoors and hailed one of the approaching gunboats…”When the Navy start hunting Loops…and when did a Loop start using RPG’s…” He realizes he’s ignoring his customer and says to Sir William, “I don’t know what is going on…but if the Navy doesn’t…well we’re all in trouble”

The Old Dock
Slowly, Dr. Michan emerged from the Vagabond, noting the missing ship's crew. He approached whoever seemed to be in charge, rubbing his right arm wth his left hand nervously. "I say, what's going on?"
The lead milita man is waiting for someone, He looks at the new arrival and says, “Do you have any connection to the material that was out here on this portion of the dock? If so, you need to wait here sir,”
At the same time an ambulance and a range rover appear at the dock gate. As two men run a streacher down the rickty dock a man in a gray uniform walks down to inspect the scene. Men salute him as he walks up to one of the small bodies and wipes off the orange paint on the face. “Damn, it could only be Voldar”, he rises and looks at the doctor, “Who are you?” he inquires as if the doctor were some poor pleb on the parade ground.


The Craken


"TWO BLOOMIN' GENERALS FOR A BEER?" bellowed the sailor, quickly snatching his coin back from the table. "Why, that's the lowest-down, rottenist, dirtiest, scummiest trick I've 'eard pulled since the bloody Hun nabbed Capable!" he continued, slamming his hand down on the counter. It was quickly in the air again, waving at the bartender. "Two generals is a half-days salary, an' if you think I'm goin' to spend it on a bit of your watered down piss, you've another think coming! Now, I demand a fair price! I've had a hard couple weeks, I have!"

The bartender relies much more calmly “If that’s what they pay ya for half a day’s hard labor, then ya no better than a slave. Hell, the Loop’s make more than that per hour around these parts…You could get a job down at one of the new docks for three Krondor an hour, easy. What you get paid in a day, a low scum sweaper makes ten times that a day, down at Dock 4.
I know there is a riverboat captain that needs a few extra hands…He was in here awhile ago looking for anyone willing to head up river and come back down before he’s paid. Cold, hard cash he said. 300 Krondor for a weeks work he said, that’s almost 430 of your precious generals. Now if ya want a beer, get a real job, cause I don’t give out charity” One of his hands are behind him.

The old man looked back, "Well I'd be John Bates...and the man who you attempted to call a Jerry is our local Baronette, Sir William Simmel..."I've served most of my life in the navy and I've only vauge recollections of hearing of those places. Security breifs most likely. Now for Cross Harbor...I'm afraid you've got a ways to go...well to cross the Alconian Sea, which is known for having nasty reefs and horrid currents. And everywhere else they say you can find hell at the bottom. But I'd say..."

The man at the Jukebox interupts..."Your not going anywhere in your boat, because I think it's listing to port by five degrees...and the mast is looking like it wants to become horizontal quickly..."

"and I'm afraid that your going to have a hard time of it if you don't have any Krondor on you." adds the bar keep who has just noticed that he hasn't been paid in any recognizable currency.


"Mh." Sir Henry grunted. "Walmingtonian pounds, sir, five of them there!" He says, pointing to the large blueish note which he'd handed over. Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh offered that the current exchange rate, according to The Standard, was "Four dollars yankee to the pound!" The old knight continued regardless of the interuption "..Buys diamonds in Nouakchott, soap in Sao Tome, gold on the Cape, tea in Ceyloba, a roast in Great Walmington, and it ought to buy a few pints in this.." [a nudge from the baron] "..here!"

Thunder-ten-tronckh took over. "I don't suppose this is the sort of area in which one might exchange currency, or else hire a good boat and navigator..or captain.. for pounds?"

"Yes, we'll need someone to see us over there, if we're to believe all this talk of difficult navigation. Maybe we could hire a porter or two.."

"..Will we need them before arriving in Um.. there?" Queeried the baron, believing the pair to be carrying all they'd brought, excepting the biscuit tin.

"Oh no no, Camel gun in the hold, tents, kit and what not like that."

Thunder-ten-tronckh lifted an eyebrow on hearing that Sir Henry had brought a light machinegun.

At Dock 5

OOC: three ships before? Ouch! This will take…days, won’t it?

Another Hydra mining truck pulled up. Out jumped a large man and walked over to Peter and Mark.

“So where’s the fire?”

Peter looked at the new arrival (not one of them but a local worker) and said in the local dialect, “Kelly, there are some packages that need to be unloaded but it looks like we have to unload some other stuff first. I’ll run the forklift.”

Mark meanwhile was listening to the radio…

“Sh#$!!,” he cursed under his breath. He pulled out his cell phone and, after fiddling around to make sure the connection was secure, phoned Frank.


The Palace

She returned the smile, "I want an eight precent stake in any mining operation you set up here with a minimum buy back of 80,000 Krondor if nothing materializes. If you do start a mining operation, I want you to secure the loans for a rail line from here to Hardtack, which I presently hold the charter for. For these considerations, you will have both the full assistance of the Wolverine Mining Company, my knowledge of the local tribes and customs, and a safe place to sleep in Hardtack."

Rick looked back at her and said, “Make it 6% and you have yourself a deal.”

OOC: She is the governor or the secretary? I’m mixed up.

"Mh." Sir Henry grunted. "Walmingtonian pounds, sir, five of them there!" He says, pointing to the large blueish note which he'd handed over. Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh offered that the current exchange rate, according to The Standard, was "Four dollars yankee to the pound!" The old knight continued regardless of the interuption "..Buys diamonds in Nouakchott, soap in Sao Tome, gold on the Cape, tea in Ceyloba, a roast in Great Walmington, and it ought to buy a few pints in this.." [a nudge from the baron] "..here!"

Thunder-ten-tronckh took over. "I don't suppose this is the sort of area in which one might exchange currency, or else hire a good boat and navigator..or captain.. for pounds?"

"Yes, we'll need someone to see us over there, if we're to believe all this talk of difficult navigation. Maybe we could hire a porter or two.."

"..Will we need them before arriving in Um.. there?" Queeried the baron, believing the pair to be carrying all they'd brought, excepting the biscuit tin.

"Oh no no, Camel gun in the hold, tents, kit and what not like that."

Thunder-ten-tronckh lifted an eyebrow on hearing that Sir Henry had brought a light machinegun.

Bates replaced the note with a 10 Krondor bill, and pocked the pound note. "That should cover a meal also." He stated to the bar keep. He then returned his smile two the two gentlmen, "We are a small outpost, not much need for deailing in international currency exchange. Now, I think you can get some money exchanged in Tellview but..."

"They'll need to go to Blood Harobor for a good exchange rate for most of it.." intergetected the Baronet.

Bates nodded his head. "I do know someone who want's to head out that way before the start of school, Has a 60ft yaht that can get you there, and the need for cash to buy supplies..."

"Oh no you don't, I have the rest of her off year to get her to buy out like she should..." The Baronet turns and walks towards them, rage on his face...

"You will not be able to change her mind, or do you want her to work at Max's." Bates replied in a even, but serious tone...

The Baronet stopped and then took a seat at an available chair...he deflated..."Fine, but I want the word of these two gentlemen that they will see Yara makes it to Ft. Hardtack. And to Amy Debra, the woman who own's the ferry. She's the only person I trust in those parts..."

Bates looks at him, "I'll drive them, and make sure it is part of the deal...Now we need to get your gear out of the boat that appears to be in serious trouble."

OOC:
same for Vrak...note she hasn't said her title yet....but for OOC she is the Military Secretary (vs. a Standard Secretary) to the Markgrave (vs. the previous Gov. who built the palace but not much else in his four year adminstration of the post)
Note: I was assuming you'd do a black bag operation to get your gear.

The Palace
She smiled at the reply I only wanted five, but then things sometimes work to your advantage
"Done" she answeres, "As the Military Attache (I remembered the appropriate title now) for his Lordship, the Markgrave of Goth. I am pleased that you will be working with an Alconian firm." She gets up and walks around the desk and offers her hand. "As Sofie Haussecker, Principle Shareholder of Wolverine Mining Incorporated, I'm glad to make your aquantance."

She sits on the front edge of her desk,"I appologize for the rushed negotiations, but the Markgrave is becoming steadily unhinged, and his personel secretary wants we cashired. She thinks I'm a potential threat to her marital ambitions. Now we should fix these problems in your paper work and get our deal formalized before anything else interupts us..."

OOC: Next post will have palace response to the attack...

IC:
In the Diablo Hotel Bar

One of the waitresses noticed Calico looking around. Our intrepid agent seemed to have an odd feeling about this young man. On her next cigrette break, she forwarded a message and a small digital photo to district.

By 6 am there was a note for him at the front desk, A small, white envlope with his name handwritten in almost caligraphy on the front. The envolope was expensive paper, and smelled lightly of some expensive perfume.
The card inside, in the same script as the address read,

I'm sorry for being such a tease last night,
How about I make up for it with a wonderful breakfast. Say 9, at my home, 245 Otto Way. I've also aranged for the guide you were intrested in last night, joining us.
I will introduce you both...
Emily.

“Fine sir, Ah could you hit the green button that says enter please, And we do pride ourselves on our service” Her smile wasn’t going much of any place.

"Oh, er, uh, sure," nodded the captain, pushing the green button. "Er, it probably would be best to transfer less than the entire thing...I don't imagine the Lord Clancy would be too happy to find his entire account wiped out..."

The Outfiters

The store owner walked outdoors and hailed one of the approaching gunboats…”When the Navy start hunting Loops…and when did a Loop start using RPG’s…” He realizes he’s ignoring his customer and says to Sir William, “I don’t know what is going on…but if the Navy doesn’t…well we’re all in trouble”

Sir William listened to the rattle of the Squad Support gun with pleasure. I need to get one of those! he thought, watching the storekeep hail a passing gunboat, and then turn to him.

"Er, I'm almost afraid to ask, but what's all this about? Loop...hunting? What of the navy?" His first thought was to the Royal Iansislean Navy, keepers of the peace and the most respected institution in the Commonwealth despite their setbacks at Salvador, the Narrows, and during the Colt Raid.

The Old Dock

The lead milita man is waiting for someone, He looks at the new arrival and says, “Do you have any connection to the material that was out here on this portion of the dock? If so, you need to wait here sir,”

"Er, yes, I do. That belongs to my expedition - headed by the famous Sir William Fitzgerald..." started Dr. Michan, before being interupted by new arrivals.

At the same time an ambulance and a range rover appear at the dock gate. As two men run a streacher down the rickty dock a man in a gray uniform walks down to inspect the scene. Men salute him as he walks up to one of the small bodies and wipes off the orange paint on the face. “Damn, it could only be Voldar”, he rises and looks at the doctor, “Who are you?” he inquires as if the doctor were some poor pleb on the parade ground.

"I, uh, I'm Dr. Michan, geologist...I'm with Sir William's expedition...I, uh, what's going on?" The poor doctor looked terribly confused, and quite nervous.

The Craken

The bartender relies much more calmly “If that’s what they pay ya for half a day’s hard labor, then ya no better than a slave. Hell, the Loop’s make more than that per hour around these parts…You could get a job down at one of the new docks for three Krondor an hour, easy. What you get paid in a day, a low scum sweaper makes ten times that a day, down at Dock 4.
I know there is a riverboat captain that needs a few extra hands…He was in here awhile ago looking for anyone willing to head up river and come back down before he’s paid. Cold, hard cash he said. 300 Krondor for a weeks work he said, that’s almost 430 of your precious generals. Now if ya want a beer, get a real job, cause I don’t give out charity” One of his hands are behind him.

What in blazes is a Krondor? the burly sailor - name of Louis - started to think, before the bartender explained it. "Four hundred and thirty generals a week?" he asked, astonished. "Bah, you're just blowing smoke at me. 'Tis too good t'be true." He turned and waved at the eleven other men. "Come on boys, let's go find a half-way fair establishment." Louis was halfway to the door before he noticed no one was following him. "Come on, then," he insisted, waving at them.

"I, uh, I dunn, Lou," replied a short little rat-faced sailor, "That barkeeper sounds like he's tellin' the truth to me..."

"Fiddlesticks," waved Lou, grabbing the rat-faced man by the arm. "He's a lying like a Chiangman. Come on, we'll find somewhere honest round here." Louis proceded to drag the little man out the door, while the rest stood about staring at each other.

The population of Fort Hardtack (OOC Sorry if I got the name wrong) were greeted, in the foggy morning light, by a ramshackle looking tank driving down the road towards them, to many it would seem a miracle it hadn't fallen apart from the amount of rust on the armour. A rather dirty and torn Imperial flag flapped out behind from where it had been tied onto the radio aerial. The figure of a man in a dark blue uniform waving his hands about frantically from the top of the turret and yelling (although it was impossible to hear what due to the engine noise) topped the display.

"We're here on a peaceful mission, don't shoot at us damn it!" Fletcher yelled, hoping that waving his hands about might help to get the message across. He would have radioed in to the Alconians, but the radio was still only recieving signals, and then only from one German radio station.

**Somewhere in Dyelli Beybi**

-So what are we looking at precisly?

-The 21st Foot Division and 2nd Airborne Division.

-Uhuh

-The proposed plan is if whoever our man in the field is, finds this rumour of diamonds to be true...

-We make sure everyone knows the diamond mine is the rightful property of the Tzar?

-Exactly. So we drop the Airborne in progressively, along here with aid from the Calvalry commanders and Airforce, then we move the foot across through here.

-Won't they mind?

-Quite possibly yes, but we'll cross that bridge when, and if we get to it.

The baron seemed a tad surprised by events and emotions, but Sir Henry appeared unphased almost to the point of being rude. He offered some token thanks in regards to Bates' little currency exchange, and the suggestion of a lift.

Sir Henry moved on to talking about how much gear they had, and the pressing need to hire some "local types. Bearers and that." Apparently he'd hurridly packed aboard what was probably a standard..well..expedition kit, which had probably been waiting since his last adventure in Africa so many years ago, but hadn't bothered to go so far as assembling a team -the hapless baron excepted- or to hire Walmingtonian help before pushing off without so much as a plan.

Wayne raced though his pint, and oh so subtly shook his glass and nodded at the lagging Thunder-ten-tronckh who had been steadily sipping away with some approval.

The population of Fort Hardtack (OOC Sorry if I got the name wrong) were greeted, in the foggy morning light, by a ramshackle looking tank driving down the road towards them, to many it would seem a miracle it hadn't fallen apart from the amount of rust on the armour. A rather dirty and torn Imperial flag flapped out behind from where it had been tied onto the radio aerial. The figure of a man in a dark blue uniform waving his hands about frantically from the top of the turret and yelling (although it was impossible to hear what due to the engine noise) topped the display.

"We're here on a peaceful mission, don't shoot at us damn it!" Fletcher yelled, hoping that waving his hands about might help to get the message across. He would have radioed in to the Alconians, but the radio was still only recieving signals, and then only from one German radio station.

The "Town" appeared at first to be a tent city on the south side of the road and parked trucks and cars inbetween stumps to the north. People started to look out of both the tents and the trucks before hiding back under what little cover it offered. Towards the river, stood a church and what looked to be a large cemetery. The road began to dip down towards a creek, next to them stood two contete bridge abutments and equipment that was building it. The present road just crossed the creek in a mess of gravel and water.

At the same time, a road followed the creek up it's ravine to the river and intersected. Several small, wooden buildings lined the creek with small bridges connecting them to the roadway on the other side. The main road appeared to run back up out of the creek, as a rutted, muddy mess.

At the top of the hill was a large unpainted building, and above the bridge emankment, the top of a red building could be seen.

As they had entered the crossroads a large jeep like vehicle, with a small Alconian flag waving on the antenna, and a TOW system mounted to the roof appeared at the top of the rise.

From around the bend of the ravine, a high pitched whine could be heard as the front end of a Kobi Light Tank appeared, in dark green, it was actually easy to spot against the black rock of the ravine. It's 120mm gun leveled at them.

A second Kobi appeared from behind the unfinished bridge embankment. The gun turret swinging to keep them targeted, it seemed to blend more with the foliage behind.

From the small vehicle ahead of them, using a megaphone. A male voice announced..."Identify yourselves, you have entered the security zone of the Goth Marches...turn off your engines....any hostile action will be met with force..."

OOC: Fort Hardtack....named for the intrenched camp of Alconian Marines who guard the river crossing. I'll post the map for Hardtack when I can get to the scanner...

"Oh, er, uh, sure," nodded the captain, pushing the green button. "Er, it probably would be best to transfer less than the entire thing...I don't imagine the Lord Clancy would be too happy to find his entire account wiped out..."

"Well this account has sufficent funds to open an account, how much do you want transfered?"

[The Outfiters



Sir William listened to the rattle of the Squad Support gun with pleasure. I need to get one of those! he thought, watching the storekeep hail a passing gunboat, and then turn to him.

"Er, I'm almost afraid to ask, but what's all this about? Loop...hunting? What of the navy?" His first thought was to the Royal Iansislean Navy, keepers of the peace and the most respected institution in the Commonwealth despite their setbacks at Salvador, the Narrows, and during the Colt Raid.


One of the gunboats turned to shore. It was long, over 20 feet with a superstructure along about 2/3 of the length. The bow of the ship was odd, with what appeared to be two large, round plates set in just below the deck, the bow wrapped around them as they appeared to point forward. The superstructure had what appeared to be a tank turret with a light gun mounted within it. The superstructure continued and ended in a set of angled cells pointing upwards at a 45 degree angle.

As it came up to them, a young man in a kaki uniform with blue tabs on the collar steped out of a forward door. He waved as the boat made to land between two small craft. "Hey Rave, thanks for the help. Those damn overpowered runners are a b*** to catch. And it looks like they weren't Loops but Horn Swagglers, or they sure acted like them..." A burly man in a blue shirt and dark pants, that said...'working uniform' exited from the rear of the craft and jumped on the dock.

The store owner turned to his customer and said..."Commander Booth, this is Sir William Fitzgerald, Order of the Sheild. Sir William, Commander James Booth, Alconian Royal Navy, skipper of the Vauxbat. Sir William is heading upriver with a group. So what is the news...besides the apparent birth of a new Hornswaggler tactic..."

The Old Dock


"Er, yes, I do. That belongs to my expedition - headed by the famous Sir William Fitzgerald..." started Dr. Michan, before being interupted by new arrivals.

"I, uh, I'm Dr. Michan, geologist...I'm with Sir William's expedition...I, uh, what's going on?" The poor doctor looked terribly confused, and quite nervous.


"So Dr. Michan, why did you hire a group of unlisted natives in unloading your ship. I know things are desprate around here for workers, but why exactly did you feel the need to hire a group without first asking for references?" The commanding officer asked, suddenly appearing a reasonable man.

The Craken

What in blazes is a Krondor? the burly sailor - name of Louis - started to think, before the bartender explained it. "Four hundred and thirty generals a week?" he asked, astonished. "Bah, you're just blowing smoke at me. 'Tis too good t'be true." He turned and waved at the eleven other men. "Come on boys, let's go find a half-way fair establishment." Louis was halfway to the door before he noticed no one was following him. "Come on, then," he insisted, waving at them.

"I, uh, I dunn, Lou," replied a short little rat-faced sailor, "That barkeeper sounds like he's tellin' the truth to me..."

"Fiddlesticks," waved Lou, grabbing the rat-faced man by the arm. "He's a lying like a Chiangman. Come on, we'll find somewhere honest round here." Louis proceded to drag the little man out the door, while the rest stood about staring at each other.

The bartender looked at the small group. "Listen, I don't want no trouble...but I ain't going to lie to you. Just walk up to anyone on the street and ask how much the poorest man gets paid he knows. You'll find out the truth...and for how I know a General ain't worth as much..." He quickly reaches under the bar and pulls out a small booklet. "I use this, it's the international currency exchange roster by the UTP."

He opens the booklet to a page and places it down on the counter. "See here, It says that a Krondor is worth 1.43 Generals. He points to a massive printed table....hard to understand, but the number is right there."

****
They head to the center of town. Across the street from the passenger station, (which is now deserted). Stands a bar, named Max's It is a much classier joint then they had just been to. The windows were not wide, but tall with gold lettering adversing brands of beer. Inside was actually a bit less muggy than outside. A high dark cealing with cealing fans running.

One wall of the massive room was taken up by a bar that seemed to shine of polished wood, brass, and large mirrors behind. The rest of the room was filled with tables and chairs. Along the walls stood boths, a few of them occupied.

Max's service was to passengers on the riverboats heading to Kandi or other ports of call. It was not known as being either cheap, nor ever really busy.

In one window of the passenger station across the street is a Help Wanted sign.

The baron seemed a tad surprised by events and emotions, but Sir Henry appeared unphased almost to the point of being rude. He offered some token thanks in regards to Bates' little currency exchange, and the suggestion of a lift.

Sir Henry moved on to talking about how much gear they had, and the pressing need to hire some "local types. Bearers and that." Apparently he'd hurridly packed aboard what was probably a standard..well..expedition kit, which had probably been waiting since his last adventure in Africa so many years ago, but hadn't bothered to go so far as assembling a team -the hapless baron excepted- or to hire Walmingtonian help before pushing off without so much as a plan.

Wayne raced though his pint, and oh so subtly shook his glass and nodded at the lagging Thunder-ten-tronckh who had been steadily sipping away with some approval.

Bates responded by laughing, "You will not find anyone on this island who's willing to run after you caring your gear. I'd try either Blood Harbor or Cross Harbor. I'd suggest you get some food into you and hit the...."
A man in a green uniform walked in the door, he looked around the room and immediatly noticed the two men at the bar as out of place. "Are you the two gentlemen from the most recent arrival? I'm the island sheriff and I'll need to ask you a few questions. May I please see your passports."

"Mh, yes, Cross eh? That's good, we'll hire someone when we get there." Sir Henry spoke quietly even as he listened. "..And I suppose this would be a reasonable place to eat?" Smiled Thunder-ten-tronckh noticing that it wasn't the first time one of their hosts had mentioned getting meals into the pair. To be honest the baron probably looked like he needed it, though Sir Henry had consumed over his ill-defined life-span more than his fair share of roasts.

"Sherrif eh?" Wayne spoke up, now over rather than under the voices of his company. Withdrawing from inside his coat a large and quite distinctive passport -amber embossed with rather elaborate maroon patterning and text- and standing as if to leave he said "Walmingtonian dear boy. Out of my way!"
Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh was roused by this, having previously been regarding the bottom of his newly parched glass. Looking round he eventually grasped the situation, and barely, he thought, managed to keep Sir Henry from slapping the sherrif with his passport to top off his snooty annoucement.

With a meek "oh, my, uh, yes" stooped down to recover from the floor his leather bag, which, after some coaxing, surrendered a similar document to that displayed by his comrade.

Thunder-ten-tronckh hated this bit- what sort of a name was his? Walmingtonian customs always stared at him for his unsual tag.

He handed the passport to the sheriff via Sir Henry, who seemed keen to return for his gear on the boat. Probably going to get the Camel gun. Shoot the lawman for interrupting his drinking. The baron mused, half serious.

Henry Chaspot Wayne and Alan Thunder-ten-tronckh, both Walmingtonian nationals.

"[Sigh]" I must be the only one in Walmington Alan considered.

The Sheriff looked at them both and the passports. "Hmm, Walmingtonian nationals....Could you please explain what your purpose is in the Grand Duchy, and do you have any personal property that might be restricted. Such as, automatic or semi-automatic firearms, and any other weapons over 5 inches in length, radioactive materials, explosives devices or material, pickels, foreign fruit or vegitables, non-native animals, and any beer made by the Yanks. And are there any other individuals with you?"

The Sheriff wasn't a small man, a small brick wall would be a typical description. And he didn't seem intrested in moving out of anyone's way, especially the pushy man in the tweed coat. He just indicated that Wayne should return to his seat. He inspected each page of the passports, keeping his eyes between the two men, and the small books before him.

Everyone in the bar was silent. Waiting to see what was happening. In many ways the two gentlemen were the night's entertainment.

Sir Henry thought he was going to get away with his rather less than automatic revolver, but considering that it was rather more than five inches long, it seemed best to own up.

"Radio what? We have a radio on the boat. And some fire arms. Defensive stuff, you know? We're on our way to hunt out some diamonds."

"Mh, diamonds." Said the baron from by the bar, where he was hoping to order a brandy. "They take some killing, I understand!" He laughed, munching on a biscuit which seemed to have materialised in his grasp. "No vegetables. Some more biscuits on the boat, though!"

Wayne took over again, nodding his head here, shaking it there. "The yanks make beer now? ...No, just the two of us; no need for an explorer of my history to bring help. . .except the bearers. . . and we've not hired any yet."

"We're not staying long ..make it a double measure.. going on to Cross Harbour."

The Sheriff looked at them both, "So you are departing in the craft you arrived in? And I am going to have to look at any weapons you might be carrying on your persons, please place them on the counter," he pointed to the bar.

The bar tender looked at Bates for a moment when the two ordered Brandy, but Bates noded and two sniffers with a good ammount in each appeared. "Ah that will be...Ah two of those pounds of yours each." He stated trying to work the math in his head.

"Well.." Started Sir Henry, while the young baron paid for the round "..we were hoping our luck would hold on getting a lift in something more substantial, or else renting..or buying something nicer." He went on, patting his wallet.

The knight tasted his well portioned drink, nodded with a smack of his lips, and drew his MkII revolver (that's the Wayne MkII, of his own design) -which he of course placed on the bar, following it with a spare five round cylinder. Thunder-ten-tronckh didn't think he was armed, but checked anyway. He had been correct, and almost looked pleased with himself.

(ooc:I hope you don't mind the Walmingtonian pace. If you'd rather we actually got to the diamond hunting and stopped dragging you back out here, I'll hurry the chaps along :) )

OOC: Nah, nothing wrong with this...At the moment D.B. is the farthest along in my time line (I'm assuming that he's tank arrives tommorrow in this sub-plot) Actually to keep us all to date here is the time line relatively speaking

Morning say 7 am D.B.
The previous day
Jiggady 10 pm or morning...
Walmington 5 pm (tea time!!)
Iansisle say 3-4 pm
(Attack by Horn Swagglers 3 pm)
Vrak 3 pm

IC:The Sheriff looked at them both, then the passports. "So you will be transfering to a new ship. Well your only going to hire one in..."

Bates perked up...."Ah I was going to see if her lady ship would take them actually...common destination and all..." He interupted.

The Sheriff shifted his weight for a moment to one foot, then the other...considering what to do next..."I'm going to ask that you pay these freemen here to unload what you are going to continue on with..."

He looked at the gun for a moment, and removed a bullet (yes one bullet) He placed the bullet in his pocket, then returned the weapon to it's owner. "Thank you, I should advise you that capital punishment is a fact in the Grand Duchy, and that murder, or attempted murder will likely result in you hanging from the gibbet. Unless you do so to a Peer, which will result in you being dispatched by very painful means indeed."

At Dock 5…

Kelly, the local Alconian worker began working the crane while Peter was busy with the forklift. Mark, after receiving instruction from Frank and, after a brief conversation with Peter, quietly made his way onto the ship. He had the container numbers so all he had to do was to locate the packages…

OOC: Just making sure, the Hornswagglers are at a different dock aren’t they? If not, my guys would have tried to sneak out their stuff under the confusion.

At the Palace…

She sits on the front edge of her desk,"I apologize for the rushed negotiations, but the Markgrave is becoming steadily unhinged, and his personal secretary wants we cashired. She thinks I'm a potential threat to her marital ambitions. Now we should fix these problems in your paper work and get our deal formalized before anything else interrupts us..."

Rick, satisfied that a deal had been concluded, asked, “Now, may I phone my office? We do have to let them know what’s going on or they’ll get worried.”

At the local Hydra Group offices…

Joe dutifully filled out the application form and handed it in to the secretary. She took it and lightly touched his hand.

“You know sweetie, I get off at six. Maybe we can go for a drink or something?”
“Sure, maybe we can,” smiled Joe and then he left back for the Diablo.

Another local at the office was doing final checks on the gear for the geologists while a couple guards were making sure no one stole any Hydra trucks.

Near the Cross Town Gazette…

Gary lurked, looking for someone.

The crew immediately responded by switching off both engines...one didn't respond immediately, causing the tank to spin around in a circle, before it too cut out. The man in the blue uniform waved desperately and yelled (without the advantage of a megaphone.)
"Lieutenant Fletcher of the 3rd Armoured Division of the Djel. We're here..." Fletcher had to think for a moment, he wasn't really certain why he was here, "...to discuss matters." he finished lamely.

"Well this account has sufficent funds to open an account, how much do you want transfered?"

"I, uh, think a million generals would be more than enough," he replied, scratching the back of his neck and feeling awful for suggesting it. "That's, er, how many ... uh ... Krondor?" (699,330.70 Kr) After she informed him, he nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah. That, uh, sounds good thanks..." He glanced towards the door, debating if just making a dash for it.

[The Outfiters

The store owner turned to his customer and said..."Commander Booth, this is Sir William Fitzgerald, Order of the Sheild. Sir William, Commander James Booth, Alconian Royal Navy, skipper of the Vauxbat. Sir William is heading upriver with a group. So what is the news...besides the apparent birth of a new Hornswaggler tactic..."

"Commander Booth," nodded Sir William. "A fine-looking piece of machinery you are operating." He turned to the shopkeeper. "Pardon me, sir, I hate to be a bother, but I wondered if it wouldn't be possible for me to perhaps purchase my provisions and be on on my way? The hour does grow late." The knight indicated the mid-afternoon sun.

The Old Dock


"So Dr. Michan, why did you hire a group of unlisted natives in unloading your ship. I know things are desprate around here for workers, but why exactly did you feel the need to hire a group without first asking for references?" The commanding officer asked, suddenly appearing a reasonable man.

Dr. Michan smiled, looking at man while he removed his glasses and cleaned them. "I, uh, didn't hire anyone, sir, and I don't believe Sir William did, either." He glanced about the dock. "Er, we had a few Gallagan porters and some Iansislean men with us - the crew of the Vagabond, I believe - but I can't imagine where they've gotten off to..."

The Craken

The bartender looked at the small group. "Listen, I don't want no trouble...but I ain't going to lie to you. Just walk up to anyone on the street and ask how much the poorest man gets paid he knows. You'll find out the truth...and for how I know a General ain't worth as much..." He quickly reaches under the bar and pulls out a small booklet. "I use this, it's the international currency exchange roster by the UTP."

The remaining sailors contemplated the bartenders words, but quickly felt the eyes of other patrons digging into their backs. With a variety of grunts, good-byes, and other dismissals, they filed out after Lou.

They head to the center of town. Across the street from the passenger station, (which is now deserted). Stands a bar, named Max's It is a much classier joint then they had just been to. The windows were not wide, but tall with gold lettering adversing brands of beer. Inside was actually a bit less muggy than outside. A high dark cealing with cealing fans running.

One wall of the massive room was taken up by a bar that seemed to shine of polished wood, brass, and large mirrors behind. The rest of the room was filled with tables and chairs. Along the walls stood boths, a few of them occupied.

Max's service was to passengers on the riverboats heading to Kandi or other ports of call. It was not known as being either cheap, nor ever really busy.

In one window of the passenger station across the street is a Help Wanted sign.

Lou paused outside Max's. "Is the only other gin joint in town?" he asked, poking at the rat faced man. "Damn it, Tony, we'd have been better off making do with that pathetic imitation slosh aboard ship.

Tony, in the meantime, had started poking at Lou's ribs. "H-hey, Lou, look over there. 'Help Wanted', it says."

"I can read too, Tony," replied Lou, still concentrating on how he was going to get a decent swish of liquor.

"Maybe we oughta, ah, check it out, eh, Lou?"

"I've already got a good job, Tony. No need to go putting it in danger."

"Yeah, alright, Lou, y'know best..." Tony, however, couldn't keep his eyes of the sign. What if the bartender was telling the truth?

"Maybe we could break in the back, pose as chefs, and steal some beer..."

"Gee, Lou, I don't know..."

At Dock 5…

Kelly, the local Alconian worker began working the crane while Peter was busy with the forklift. Mark, after receiving instruction from Frank and, after a brief conversation with Peter, quietly made his way onto the ship. He had the container numbers so all he had to do was to locate the packages…

OOC: Just making sure, the Hornswagglers are at a different dock aren’t they? If not, my guys would have tried to sneak out their stuff under the confusion.

OOC: Yes, but all of the docks are going to have security running over them to see if there are anymore Hornswagglers...so Mark is going to have a wait...

IC:When the siren went off, well things got strange. First, the small Loops ran into a small group, dropping packages and waiting for instructions. The local Alconian stopped operating the crane and waited in the operators booth. A truck with several men in uniform grey, some having only their shirts on appeared a few minutes later.

They gathered around the truck. The one who was apparently in charge was talking on the radio to someone. He waved his arm for a moment...then started giving orders...he kept glancing at the group of native porters....

At the Palace…


Rick, satisfied that a deal had been concluded, asked, “Now, may I phone my office? We do have to let them know what’s going on or they’ll get worried.”


She smiled, "Oh use my personal sat phone..." She walked over to a pair of file cabinets in the corner and opened the bottom drawer of one. Then the siren went off..."Here..."she yelled as she tossed the mobile phone towards Rick and grabbed the phone on her desk. She hit a auto-dial button..."Com...this is Fox, what is happening.....fine....good glad to see some iniative...'what!!...s***....f***...good send me up dates...." She rose and went to the outer door, she opened it and yelled something that was unintelligable to anyone who didn't speak, or more appropriately swear in Manx.

The officer who had been waiting in the hall, rose and ran down the stairs. In the other direction a group of men in kaki uniforms appeared...and started to head for the windows, most were carrying the long automatic rifle of the Alconian Marines. And they didn't even seem to notice the Hydra group.

Out of a second door into the office a large man appeared. His clothing was out of place, and the blond following him looked like she had just thrown back on the tight, short red dress. He yelled...."Haussekcer what the hell is going on here."

Near the Cross Town Gazette…

Gary lurked, looking for someone.
Mostly he only saw the occasional paperboy or someone who was obviously a customer. The Gazette wasn't much of a building. A one story, falsefront building that was built out of cinder block. A man with a press bage emmerged from the office and walked down the street towards another local dive...

The crew immediately responded by switching off both engines...one didn't respond immediately, causing the tank to spin around in a circle, before it too cut out. The man in the blue uniform waved desperately and yelled (without the advantage of a megaphone.)
"Lieutenant Fletcher of the 3rd Armoured Division of the Djel. We're here..." Fletcher had to think for a moment, he wasn't really certain why he was here, "...to discuss matters." he finished lamely.

The voice responded. "Get all personel out of the tank, and we will take your lead officer to discuss matters with the base commander..." The Kobi tanks just waited as the military jeep rolled down the hill and pulled to being parallel with the stream. A man in a camoflage uniformwas out of a hatch on the back, keeping the TOW pointed at them, while an officer in a short sleve kaki opened the front passenger door and got out.

***************
The Margret had been picking up a load of candy and soda at the side of a factory. It was morning, and most of the crew was there only to get back to Hardtack and the riches that awaited them.

The were waiting for one last crate to be loaded into the cooled hold, when a group of Oompa Loopa ran by. They appeared to have picked up various peices of equipment and were following a short gray figure of the same height, but without the charateristc coloring...

One of the crewmen looked at it and then said..."Hornswaggler...Loops following a Hornswaggler..." His eyes were white with fright. The captain, Samual Clemens looked at the scene from the bridge.

Being that I find all violence abhorent, especially with me being involved. I think that I should investigate the southern approaches of the river...

He just started the two massive engines, pulled away from the dock, and turned down river...He tried to call various people on the radio, the police, the harbormaster, the only person he reached was a shortwave operator woking at home. The man sounded scared...he was pleading for his life...then the signal went dead...

"I, uh, think a million generals would be more than enough," he replied, scratching the back of his neck and feeling awful for suggesting it. "That's, er, how many ... uh ... Krondor?" (699,330.70 Kr) After she informed him, he nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah. That, uh, sounds good thanks..." He glanced towards the door, debating if just making a dash for it.

"Well, then I need your signiture on these documents here...and I need some form of I.D. that will show that you are not an Alconian citizen. Is anyone else going to have acess to these funds?"

The Outfiters

"Commander Booth," nodded Sir William. "A fine-looking piece of machinery you are operating." He turned to the shopkeeper. "Pardon me, sir, I hate to be a bother, but I wondered if it wouldn't be possible for me to perhaps purchase my provisions and be on on my way? The hour does grow late." The knight indicated the mid-afternoon sun.

"Ah sure, sorry for the interuption" He walked back into his shop, the commander was following. "Now you wanted two Ak-47's, One of the squad support rifles, and those two bolt actions I have in the back, lots of ammo and the water filter...is that correct?"

The naval officer walked over to a corner and then opened a small fridge. He pulled several dark brown bottles out of the unit and returned to the counter. He started to count out the bills on the counter, and casually stated..."Well, no rush really...the road was closed at Cliffton this morning when one of the bridges blew. So, that is as far as your going to get, unless you go up the river." He smiled as waved his goodbye. Then both of the navy men picked up the bottles and carried them out the front door.
The Old Dock




Dr. Michan smiled, looking at man while he removed his glasses and cleaned them. "I, uh, didn't hire anyone, sir, and I don't believe Sir William did, either." He glanced about the dock. "Er, we had a few Gallagan porters and some Iansislean men with us - the crew of the Vagabond, I believe - but I can't imagine where they've gotten off to..."

"So you allowed them to wander off without guarding your supplies? On a dock in very poor condition in this port. Once known as a massive pirate haven? Your common sense leave a great deal to be desired. Are you in charge of this disaster in motion, or does that fall on some other poor soul who has to deal with your peoples incompetence..." The drill sargent tone has returned.


OOC: No there are lots of bars along Alexander Ave, and on the southside of the river. I should have said 'towards the center of town.'
Your just not there yet...

poking at the rat faced man. "Damn it, Tony, we'd have been better off making do with that pathetic imitation slosh aboard ship.

Tony, in the meantime, had started poking at Lou's ribs. "H-hey, Lou, look over there. 'Help Wanted', it says."

"I can read too, Tony," replied Lou, still concentrating on how he was going to get a decent swish of liquor.

"Maybe we oughta, ah, check it out, eh, Lou?"

"I've already got a good job, Tony. No need to go putting it in danger."

"Yeah, alright, Lou, y'know best..." Tony, however, couldn't keep his eyes of the sign. What if the bartender was telling the truth?

"Maybe we could break in the back, pose as chefs, and steal some beer..."

"Gee, Lou, I don't know..."

The Palace

IC:
In the Diablo Hotel Bar

One of the waitresses noticed Calico looking around. Our intrepid agent seemed to have an odd feeling about this young man. On her next cigrette break, she forwarded a message and a small digital photo to district.

By 6 am there was a note for him at the front desk, A small, white envlope with his name handwritten in almost caligraphy on the front. The envolope was expensive paper, and smelled lightly of some expensive perfume.
The card inside, in the same script as the address read,

I'm sorry for being such a tease last night,
How about I make up for it with a wonderful breakfast. Say 9, at my home, 245 Otto Way. I've also aranged for the guide you were intrested in last night, joining us.
I will introduce you both...
Emily.

OOC: Sorry for not keeping up

IC: Calico woke after a sound sleep, almost as if he slept for over three days. He quickly dressed in his light battle armor and threw on his regular clothes over the top, finally gathering his sword and pistols he left the room and started for the lobby.

He immediately ran into Bellamy and his crew of scoundrels who had apparently gotten up hours earlier and had been arguing about going on without him. However, Calico knew that they needed him as much as he needed them and they would grudgingly wait untill evening for him if they had to.

Calico walked past the group of men and started outside, and the rest stood up to follow until the hotel manager came running up to stop them.

"Sir, sir's. Wait you have a message!"

Slowly turning Calico ran a hand through his thick luxurious hair and reached out for the envelope. He handed the manager a few Kronors and the other man scurried away to his desk. He read the note with little interest at first however, reading on he became quite intrigued. Calico hadnt wanted to prolonge their departure yet this was a new and unexpected change of events. He decided to fold the letter back up without saying anything to the others, and led them on to where this Emily wanted to meet.

245 Otto Way was found to be on a tree lined street, or the end of it. 246 across the street was by far a massive house that looked like someone had watched way too much Gone With the Wind and dominated most of the surrounding houses. 245 was much smaller, and was set back from the street in a garden full of flowers and large trees. The front was marked by a massive, circular stair rising upwards to what would be the second floor porch. The first floor had a Oompa sweeping the stone area under the stairs.

When he saw the group, he stopped sweeping and entered what looked like a small, front door on the first floor. A moment later he returned with a man. The man looked somewhat like the same butler staff as Calico knew from home, just dressed in a white top coat. His blond hair and weathered face seemed a little out of place. He walked forward to meet them at the bottom of the stairs....

"Master Calico, so good of you to come...I see you have brought guests. Too bad about the road to Hardtack being closed this morning. But we are on the edge of civilization." He shruged, his eyes slightly showed surprise at the extra guests...but like a professional delt with them quickly.
"Breakfast is going to be served in the gazebo gentlemen. If you would follow Po Mo he will begin to get you seated, and get your drinks. Ah, Master Calico...If you would follow me please, Miss Emily would like to talk with you privately for a moment." He begins to lead Calico up the stairs.

The sound of women laughing could be heard from somewhere around the side of the house. A lyrical sound that seemed to perk most strait men's sense of, well what strait men think about 96% of the time...

Calico was driven as if by instincts towards the exctravegant house, the whole walk keeping silent, waiting for the objections of his companions. The sight of the Oompa Loompa startled several of the men who hadnt really believed the stories about the race of people and they soon began cries of protest and betray

"What the hell are we doing here Calico? This is not the warehouse, I swear if you dont start playing straight our partnership is through and we will find the diamonds on our own." Bellamy yelled as he kicked the ground. Goldie stepped forward, not speaking as usuall, just emphasizing his presence.

"Calm down Bellamy we are here on business. It may occur to you that despite my skills these are still dangerous areas and we are going to need a guide. I supply the money, the guide, you supply the transportation and everyone is happy savvy? Now kindly show some manners when you are here, all of you." Calico turned back to the house to greet the butler.

"I am pleased as well to see you, I hope the lady of the house is doing fine."

After a few more moments of conversation, Bellamy and his men grudgingly followed the Oompa Loompa around the house towards breakfast. None of them appeared to trust anything about the house but the enchanting cries seemed to somewhat lull their senses.

Calico quickly followed the butler up the winding stairs towards the large room where he assumed his host awaited.

OOC: Picture of the type of house I was speaking of
http://www.historicmobile.org/Oakleigh%20close%20front.jpg

IC: The butler showed him through the vestibule on the second floor, which had an odd hum as the butler attempted to open the inner door. "Sorry Sir, the inner door sticks a bit..." He then opened it to reveal a long hall with an interior stairway leading downwards. Near middle of the hall the butler opened a large door and showed Calico inside.

It was a large room. With a fireplace on the far wall between two tall windows. The walls were painted grey and the wood floor was covered by a large, oriental rug. From the cealing hung a large crystal chandaleir. The morning light came in through the large archway to a simlar room next door.
http://www.historicmobile.org/Second%20parlor.jpg

At the small table sat a attractive, older woman in a a summer dress of blue. She was wearing a pair of small glasses and looking at a small electronic device that seemed out of place in the room. Next to her was an file folder laying on the table. It was not thick, but the glaring red slash across it with the words Classified Level 4 drew the eye.

At one of the windows stood a man, his hair white. Wearing a deep blue shirt and olive green pants. He was looking outside, puffing his pipe. The window was open, allowing a fresh breeze into the room, and the pipe smoke an escape.

"Thank You, Martin" was all Emily said to the staff member. She smiled and said. "So glad to finally meet you, I've found so many questions to ask you about your training...especially Master Gunn's teaching methods...but I'm sure you want to know who we are, and why I invited you here..." She smiled.
************

The Gazebo was not a small structure...almost 25 feet long, with a large table placed underneath. At one end was a second table with covered silver trays, behind it was a set of the Oompa Loompa, dressed in white. The gazebo overlooked an area with a fountain and pool, and four very lovely women.

Most appeared to have been going for a morning swim, in very small bakini's. They were the kind of women that most men looked at in the pages of playboy, infact for some who had veiwed internet porn, one would be very recognizable. The girls came towards the men and introduced themselves as Kai, Tammi, Sofie, and Kimberly.
Po Bo stated in his high voice "Breakfest will be delayed until..."
Sofie smiled and said..."Please Po Bo...can we just get to eating, Emily takes soo long to get reintroduced to people..."

Po Bo, obviously being male, reacted by clapping his hands. The trays of food were uncovered. And wafed towards the men. Several chairs were being added to the table by a second set of little men.

Sofie walked up to Bellemy and smiled. "Hi, how about we go first. It's my turn today" she smiled with a gleam in her eye.

"Well, then I need your signiture on these documents here...and I need some form of I.D. that will show that you are not an Alconian citizen. Is anyone else going to have acess to these funds?"

Captain MacKenna quickly scrawled his name on the bottom of any papers she handed him, but seemed confused by the term 'I.D.', even after she explained that it meant identification. After some thought, he withdrew a small slip of plastic from his wallet, showing it to the woman. It was hunter green and marked with the great seal of Iansisle. Across the bottom was written 'Presented: General Elections, 6 Sept. 2003'.

"This is my vote-voucher," he explained. "Lets the pollsters know I'm an Iansislean citizen." That would be the best she'd get, as Iansislean society thought regular identification papers to be an infringment on liberty, and there were even many against the voucher system. Citizens were allowed to drink, drive, and travel throughout the Commonwealth at will. Passports were, of course, issued, but the sheer paperwork and time required to acquire one, and the fact that travel abroad was rare, most people didn't bother. Captain MacKenna had one, of course, but it was locked up in his safe aboard Vagabond. "I hope that will do?"

The Outfiters


"Ah sure, sorry for the interuption" He walked back into his shop, the commander was following. "Now you wanted two Ak-47's, One of the squad support rifles, and those two bolt actions I have in the back, lots of ammo and the water filter...is that correct?"

"Don't worry about it, my good man," smiled Sir William. "Yes, I believe that will be all. Thank you very much."

(ooc: Did the Hornswagglers get anything of mine? If so, I'll just have Sir William come back to buy new ones of whatever.)

The naval officer walked over to a corner and then opened a small fridge. He pulled several dark brown bottles out of the unit and returned to the counter. He started to count out the bills on the counter, and casually stated..."Well, no rush really...the road was closed at Cliffton this morning when one of the bridges blew. So, that is as far as your going to get, unless you go up the river." He smiled as waved his goodbye. Then both of the navy men picked up the bottles and carried them out the front door.

Sir William didn't say anything, but nodded his farewell as the men walked out. Up the river, eh? That'd be what that auction was, I suppose... He glanced over his shoulder. Hope they accept Iansislean generals...and llamas... He turned back to the shopkeeper.


The Old Dock

"So you allowed them to wander off without guarding your supplies? On a dock in very poor condition in this port. Once known as a massive pirate haven? Your common sense leave a great deal to be desired. Are you in charge of this disaster in motion, or does that fall on some other poor soul who has to deal with your peoples incompetence..." The drill sargent tone has returned.

Suddenly, Dr. Michan was less than pleased. He seemed to visably wither in the face of the verbal onslaught. "Yes...yes, I suppose so," he whispered, all but physically shrinking. The doctor's courage was not aided by the fact that some crewmen were starting to return, obviously downcast. He listened to the rest of the tirade, keenly aware of the burly merchant sailors ribbing each other and pointing at him. "Er, Sir William Fitzgerald is in overall command of the expedition, and Captain MacKenna the ship. They, ah, left...me in charge..."


OOC: No there are lots of bars along Alexander Ave, and on the southside of the river. I should have said 'towards the center of town.'
Your just not there yet...

(Oh, ok - my bad. I'll get back to this last part in a minute.)

The Sheriff shifted his weight for a moment to one foot, then the other...considering what to do next..."I'm going to ask that you pay these freemen here to unload what you are going to continue on with..."

He looked at the gun for a moment, and removed a bullet (yes one bullet) He placed the bullet in his pocket, then returned the weapon to it's owner. "Thank you, I should advise you that capital punishment is a fact in the Grand Duchy, and that murder, or attempted murder will likely result in you hanging from the gibbet. Unless you do so to a Peer, which will result in you being dispatched by very painful means indeed."

"Ah yes, we have the gallows in Walmington, too. Not used terribly often, mind.. ah.." Sir Henry paused for a moment, noticing that he was heading off on a tangent. "I'll ask for a bite to eat and a couple of able bodies to exchange carriage of goods from boat to boat for a few blues.." He said, returning to the point, and raising a fold of five pound notes in the air. "I trust we can rely on this lady to accept these two stowaways?" Wayne finished with a smile, indicating both the baron and himself with a wave of his currency.

(For the record, Sir Henry Wayne is one of the richest men in Walmington, having for several years benefited from the lion's share of Wayneisia's (Zimbabwe) gross domestic product.. and Thunder-ten-tronckh was born into a comfortable little estate, though he's not quite so loose with his wealth as the bombastic and fanciful Wayne.)

Captain MacKenna quickly scrawled his name on the bottom of any papers she handed him, but seemed confused by the term 'I.D.', even after she explained that it meant identification. After some thought, he withdrew a small slip of plastic from his wallet, showing it to the woman. It was hunter green and marked with the great seal of Iansisle. Across the bottom was written 'Presented: General Elections, 6 Sept. 2003'.

"This is my vote-voucher," he explained. "Lets the pollsters know I'm an Iansislean citizen. I hope that will do?"

She looked at him for a moment, then said. "Ah well, perhaps"...she took the card and scaned it in on a unit built under the desk. "You may have to validate to the Revenue Office your citizenship or pay the standard 20% income tax on your intrest." She pulled a electronic pad out with the outline of a hand on it. "Please place your hand on the scanner", she placed one of the signed cards into a slot on the unit, and activated it. The unit hummed for a moment and then stopped. She pulled out the card. And then filed it with most of the paperwork...

"Now how much cash would you like withdrawn from your account?"

((OOC: I'm assuming that your banks are capable of a wire transfer of funds here))

The Outfiters
((OOC: Yes, a few items say seven boxes...and a few of your items have been hit by 9mm bullets))

"Don't worry about it, my good man," smiled Sir William. "Yes, I believe that will be all. Thank you very much."

A small Oompa Loompa appeared carrying gear while the store keep made up the bill

Two 0.30 Rifles, special items 2,000Kr/ 3,003 Generals
One large water filter..........................105 Generals
Two AK-47's...............................60 Kr/ 90 Generals
1 squad support gun ..........3,500 Kr/5,250 Generals
with 2 30 round clips
2,000 rounds 6.5mm ammo..................600 Generals
600 rounds 7.53mm(?) 8 resusable clips 315 Generals
1400 rounds 0.30 ammo (special item) 1,785 Generals
Revenue Tax: ....................................188 Generals
Total Due: .........................................9,585 Generals

He handed the bill to Sir William, and said "I haven't padded the prices, going to have to if my shipments don't start comming in."



The Old Dock


Suddenly, Dr. Michan was less than pleased. He seemed to visably wither in the face of the verbal onslaught. "Yes...yes, I suppose so," he whispered, all but physically shrinking. The doctor's courage was not aided by the fact that some crewmen were starting to return, obviously downcast. He listened to the rest of the tirade, keenly aware of the burly merchant sailors ribbing each other and pointing at him. "Er, Sir William Fitzgerald is in overall command of the expedition, and Captain MacKenna the ship. They, ah, left...me in charge..."

"Well, considering that you now have equipment that has bullet holes in it, and some it is floating in the river, and some of it is now at the bottom...I would say that they will learn the error of their decision." He turns to the men who men who were pointing and ribbing each other. "And as for you, I'm assuming that your the formentioned missing crew...does this look like the place to leave equipment laying around unattended? Hmm, your employer has just been robbed, and some of his equipment damaged. If he doesn't take it out of your hide I'd be surprised, if he doesn't dock you your wages, he's a fool. It appears that there is several hundred Krondor of equipment damaged here. I hope you enjoy whatever you went off to do, since it is likely going to cost you that much..." His tone was even more stern with the returning crewmen.

People who took too much advantage of a weak superior were not considered very high in Alconian society (which most of those in the miltia were from), where the concept of Duty had been ingrained from birth. Most of the milita standing around looked at the whole group with varying levels of disgust. A few Vaux in the crowd looked on with mixed feelings, they had found harsh judgment for violations of the Code of Duty themselves. And it was not a pleasent experience.

The Outer Islands
Bates realized the problems immediatly..."Hey boys, two rounds of drinks and a meal all around for those who help these poor lost souls unload their ship..." He rises, as the rest of the men do so and gives a cheer that fills the room. They all begin to walk out for the odd ship, while Bates notes to them both "better to pay a Freeman with a beer, then act as if he's a Vaux..." He winks at them both then walks out into the evening air, a few moments later he pulls a large, old truck out to the dock.

The Sheriff follows, holding the passports.
As gear is unloaded, the sheriff inspects it and then either allows it to be placed on the truck, or diverts it. The camel gun(?) is quickly noted, and then placed into the back of the Sheriff's car. (OOC: any other weapons or prohibited items?) He starts to fill out a form as the last items are thrown into the back of the truck. John Bates picks up a tin of biscuts that has been dropped and tosses it in with the loaded equipment.

"Yes madam you are certianly right." Calico said as he pointed down to the folder. "You seem to know alot about me, and yet I am at a loss without the knowledge of who you are or why you sent for me."

Calico gazed about the formal decor of the room. It was very much like the architecture in Jiggady, after all the designers of his country bragged about not having one bit of origional architecture.

"Can I assume that you are someone in the Alcona government or just a private individual who can access information not in the public domain." Calico let his eyes rest upon the other man in the room who had yet to turn to acknowledge him. Finally Calico turned his eyes back to the lady of the house.

OUTSIDE

Sofie smiled and said..."Please Po Bo...can we just get to eating, Emily takes soo long to get reintroduced to people..."

Po Bo, obviously being male, reacted by clapping his hands. The trays of food were uncovered. And wafed towards the men. Several chairs were being added to the table by a second set of little men.

Sofie walked up to Bellemy and smiled. "Hi, how about we go first. It's my turn today" she smiled with a gleam in her eye.

Bellamy gazed at the attractive woman with half interest, most of his interest was taken up by the breakfast spread. He had lost his appatite for flesh long ago, about the time he lost his hair and most of his teeth, he just didnt have the time for females when there was treasure to be had.

"Well missie, you have me at a loss by your meanings. And unless you yourself are made up of jewels or some monetary equivilent than I am not interested."

Meanwhile the rest of Bellamy's men stood around the tables shoving food into their mouths two handfulls at a time. Each one however, kept their eyes glued to the ladies fluttering about. Bellamy didnt quite like this place and wanted to find Calico and get out of here.

For Camel gun, think Lewis gun, it's more or less a Walmingtonian copy with a few minor alterations, mainly for differing production methods. There were also two single-shot rifles- Walmingtonian copies of .45 Boxer or perhaps Martini Henry rifles.

I think that is all which would be restricted. No animal, foodstuffs beyond the biscuits, little if anything that has even been near America, and Walmington is only as we speak begining its atomic research (in co-operation with Iansisle, as it happens), and that is top secret (so pretend I didn't tell you ;) ), so the pair have never heard the term "radioactive" before, and are a little concerned about the boats (unreliable) communications equipment.

Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh mentions to Sir Henry that "These people seen reasonable enough.. when there's ale to spare, which is quite understandable!" as they follow on out of the pubic house. "Y..we intend to compensate them for the meals given in our aid, of course?"

Sir Henry nodded and mumbled something inaudiable as he observed the lawman's filtration of the manifest.

Lanterns.. blankets.. tent.. tent.. tin pots and the like.. water flasks.. picks and other manual digging tools.. now where's he taking the guns?

She returned, "Yes, I am Emily...most know me as Miss Emily, and I'm a member of the Inter Security Divsion at the moment. What my normal duties are unimportant for this matter. What is important is that you appear to be working freelance from your normal employer, it appears. And I need your assistance for a task that can not be done by anyone directly in the ISD. It meshes so nicely with your obvious present goals...based on your staff that it would be foolish for me not to attempt to gain your assistance."

She rises up and walks to the window for a moment. "I am prepared to support your endevor monatarly, and hire you the services of this man..."

She points to the gentlemen who's been looking out the window. "This is Phillip Brock one of the men who explored this area before our, intervention. He has been of great service to the Divison over the years." The man turns and bows at the introduction.

"Are you intrested? Or should I surrender this opportunity to someone else."

********
Sofie smiled at him, and said "The wine you silly..."

For Camel gun, think Lewis gun, it's more or less a Walmingtonian copy with a few minor alterations, mainly for differing production methods. There were also two single-shot rifles- Walmingtonian copies of .45 Boxer or perhaps Martini Henry rifles.


OOC:Actually sort of what I was thinking actually, The rifles wouldn't be
handed over to the Sheriff. since they wouldn't be restricted. (note: Army uses a sword bayonette still so bladed weapons have an odd significance here.


I think that is all which would be restricted. No animal, foodstuffs beyond the biscuits, little if anything that has even been near America, and Walmington is only as we speak begining its atomic research (in co-operation with Iansisle, as it happens), and that is top secret (so pretend I didn't tell you ;) ), so the pair have never heard the term "radioactive" before, and are a little concerned about the boats (unreliable) communications equipment.

Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh mentions to Sir Henry that "These people seen reasonable enough.. when there's ale to spare, which is quite understandable!" as they follow on out of the pubic house. "Y..we intend to compensate them for the meals given in our aid, of course?"

Sir Henry nodded and mumbled something inaudiable as he observed the lawman's filtration of the manifest.

Lanterns.. blankets.. tent.. tent.. tin pots and the like.. water flasks.. picks and other manual digging tools.. now where's he taking the guns?

The Sheriff finshes writting up something in a small black book. He looks at the fact they they have apparently stripped the boat of it's cargo. Then fishes the passports out of a pocket and produces a stamp. He doesn't appear to be that familar with it, but after a few tries gets the unit to work with the desired results. He makes a few more notations in the passports and returns to the two gentlmen. "Here you are sirs, your validated passports...you have three days before your temporary visa expire for this area."
He then hands them a pink slip of paper. "This is your recipt for the machine gun, When you are ready to leave, take it to the Armory to have your gun returned. Since you will be leaving by our main port, it is on the commons. It is labled. Now, I need to get home before my wife throws dinner back...so excuse me." He walks off and gets in the car. The vehicle goes south.
The men from the pub start returning, talking and being much more merry than they had been before. Some, make wispers to Bates and then head off in other directions...He nods to them and shakes their hands, and returns to the two men. "Well now, time to eat. Tonights meal choice is either a plate of mixed Wurst...I mean sausage, with a sauce and a small bowl of corn chowder, or Benkadale Stew. The bread here is excellent"...he smiles at them.

At Dock 5…

IC: When the siren went off, well things got strange. First, the small Loops ran into a small group, dropping packages and waiting for instructions. The local Alconian stopped operating the crane and waited in the operators booth. A truck with several men in uniform grey, some having only their shirts on appeared a few minutes later.

They gathered around the truck. The one who was apparently in charge was talking on the radio to someone. He waved his arm for a moment...then started giving orders...he kept glancing at the group of native porters....

Mark, assessing the situation, had to wait. Damn the security and damn this wait!

At the Palace…

Out of a second door into the office a large man appeared. His clothing was out of place, and the blond following him looked like she had just thrown back on the tight, short red dress. He yelled...."Haussekcer what the hell is going on here."

Rick quickly put a call to the local office. The buxom secretary answered in her sugary voice.

“Good afternoon, Hydra Group.”
“Yes, this is Rick Ruvold from HQ. We have been delayed but will be checking in later today. As well, have there been any applicants for the security position? It seems we might need it.”
“Not many, but one fellow called Joe looks good. It says here that he was a surveyor’s assistant before in dangerous territory.”
“Great. Hire him. We need all the help we can get.”

The Hotel Diablo room 4B

“Well Joe, it looks like you’ll be in with the Hydra Group survey team,” said Frank, “How was that secretary by the way?”
“I’ll let you know tonight,” replied Joe with a grin.

Frank laughed and then adjusted the communications gear to send sent out another message:

“Fuzzy monkey with the snake. Still looking for bananas. Monkeys in vines need to come down.”

Near the Cross Town Gazette…

Mostly he only saw the occasional paperboy or someone who was obviously a customer. The Gazette wasn't much of a building. A one story, falsefront building that was built out of cinder block. A man with a press badge emerged from the office and walked down the street towards another local dive...

Gary shadowed the man.

Dock 5
The men in gray walked over to the small natives. One entered the rear of the dock office that said restrooms and appeared with a bucket. The then placed it out on the concrete. The leader addressed the natives...
"Alright, Loops...It appears some of your demonic kin, the Horn Swagglers have come up with a new technique for raids...posing as You...So what I want is everyone of you to walk over to that bucket, and wash your hands. And if any of you are Horn Swagglers, well please run now, I need to get some target practice in."

The Oompa complied, they appeared both confused and mad at the demands of the human officer, but then complaining didn't seem to do much. One started to sing..."Oompa Loompa..." and was cuffed by one of the men, "Don't start. None of us are in the mood for your moralistic songs Oop.." was his admonishment.

Two of the miltiamen walked over to Peter, "Who are you? never seen you around here before."

The Palace
Sofie responded with, "Doing my job your Lordship. We have had an apparent raid by Horn Swagglers posing as Oompa Loompa. We both know the only Swaggler chief who is daring enough to pull that..." The sound of explosions increasing in intesity ends her converstation. She walks back through the door the Markgrave and walks to a balcony overlooking the river. She squezzes by the guard and looks down at the scene unfolding below.

The Markgrave humphs and looks at the Vrakians. "So who are you? ISD spies reporting to her, not me. Has that idiot Anted woken yet. Have you begun to apply torcher to him to make him talk." He pulls the Vrakian with the phone towards him..."Is he on the other end of that line...give it here..." He pulls the phone away and begins to scream into the end of it..."Anted, I know your faking, I can feel it with every fiber of my being. Just tell me...tell me and I'll split it with you...all with you...every last dime...every last penny...please...please..." He falls on the floor with the phone in his hands, sobbing.

The sobbing abruptly stops and he rises back up. "What am I doing on Haussecker's office floor. And who are you? And Ms. Knowles...why do you look like a complete mess. Have you been in a fight with Haussecker again?"
She suddenly looks teary eyed and nods..."She is so horrid, she just kicked me out of my office..." He starts to fume and walks back into the room...yelling can be heard through the open door.

On the Street
As the sirens sound, the reporter heads into a small pub and heads for the bar. Everyone looks up and then says a greetings of "Frank, hi Frank, and good day Frank." He just sits at the bar and gets his usual a whiskey and soda.

Dock 5

Two of the miltiamen walked over to Peter, "Who are you? never seen you around here before."

Peter confidently replies, “I’m with the Hydra Group. The dock master over there, “ at this he gestures, “said we could unload our supplies since the Oompas are really slow. Looks like we’ve been pressed into service.”

He smiles slightly, gauging the militiamen carefully.


The Palace

The sobbing abruptly stops and he rises back up. "What am I doing on Haussecker's office floor. And who are you? And Ms. Knowles...why do you look like a complete mess. Have you been in a fight with Haussecker again?"
She suddenly looks teary eyed and nods..."She is so horrid, she just kicked me out of my office..." He starts to fume and walks back into the room...yelling can be heard through the open door.

Rick and Troy deign not to answer and look again at Sofie while thinking to themselves, What kind of nuthouse is this?


On the Street

As the sirens sound, the reporter heads into a small pub and heads for the bar. Everyone looks up and then says a greetings of "Frank, hi Frank, and good day Frank." He just sits at the bar and gets his usual a whiskey and soda.

Gary, realizing that he stands out, resorts to his cover story. He sidles up to Frank and says, “Hi. Can a fellow reporter buy you a drink?”

Calico took his liberty, and walked around the room freely while listening to Miss. Emily.

"Yes I am currently on leave from my normal employeers, mostly because I was in need to find a good adventure. However, I have little use for diamonds and would probably make them a donation back to my government. These men I hired to go with me are merely a means to an end. They are good at what they do, but frankly I wouldnt trust any of them to be honest in their intentions although I already have a plan to deal with that situation.

"Your proposition is indeed intriguing, but I would like to know a bit more of your interests in this expedition namely how yours are similar or different to our own. Its not that I dont trust you, its that I dont know you therefore I dont trust you." Calico smiled smoothly enjoying a game of cat and mouse with this intelligent woman.

----------------

"I dont trust liqure, it dulls the senses too much and that just makes it easier for enemies to hurt me." Bellamy continued the conversation with little interest.

OOC:Sorry for all delays. (Mental note:Hunt down ISP and Inhume with an axe, a large blunt one :evil:)

The City of Westings, Yesterday 8:16AM Local/10:16GMT
Baron Richard Courtney sagged against his newly purchased vehicle, Fanning his face against the oppresive heat and flies that plagued the oily dust of the parking lot. His men ensured none of the other collecting expeditions ventured closer to their column than 20metres. Nevertheless a crowd of spectators had gathered at the edge of the invisible boundary, straying no closer than the four bloody corpses which lay face down, coated with the dust churned up by tracks and tyres. Their curiosity was stirred by the chance of seeing a peer of the realm join them, and yet take such a tiny force; scarcely 60 men and 15 vehichles. The AH1 Mosquito in its shining red and gold drew many envious glances however, especially after seeing the many modifications that marked it as a noblemans personal aircraft.
"Rick! get your lazy bones over here!"
Richard Hakewright arrived at the double, as was his duty as the Barons Page and manservant. He took lord Courtneys heavy jacket off and folded it over his arm before taking over the fanning duty. few of Fasta Benj's nobles would travel with but one servant, but then the courtneys always were different. Born adventurers, the Courtney family had actually earned it's title, not merely been awarded it to appease the mafia.
"Rick.."
"yes m'lord?"
"How come that fuel hatch is still undone? I ordered you to check that truck an hour ago."
"sorry m'lord, it won't happen again."
"see to it and then load up the vehichles would you. It's time to move out."
"Yessir! You all heard the Baron! Hands off c#%ks and on socks! thets get this load moving" The silver haired 20 year old called as he ran to the offending "rat" model truck.
The Baron himself, a 40 year old man with a slightly balding head of orange blond hair and piercing blue eyes rubbed his chin, which was just starting to show stubble and hauled himself onto the turret of his vehicle with thickley muscled arms. His squire and youngest son was already aboard, seated in the drivers seat of the the "gunlouse" fighting vehicle, a sixteen ton weapon of destruction, armed with the Fasta designed XC1 main gun, feared wherever it had shown up. Lord Richard slid himself into the comfortable leather armchair that replaced both gunner and commanders stations and patted the trigger grip of the weapon.
"Time for us to leave Will."
With a roar of engines the party set off: A baron, 2 knights and 57 other men, 4 military vehichles, 3 heavy 4x4s, 3 rats with troops and supplys and 5 rats carrying massive fuel tanks. All were painted with the red and gold of the Courtney arms, and charged with the Courtney lion.
A half mile down the road another larger party was assembling, as it had been for the last 2 days... No Civilian treasure seeking operation this, but the full deployment of a Fasta Benj mobile infantry company, seried ranks of troops and combat vehichles, and a second mosquito, this one in drab grey and brown camoflage, and noticably heavier armament.
As the party continued down the road at the 60 odd km/hr that the M113 limited them to the passed small groups of treasure seekers trudging on foot beside the road, picks over their shoulders.

Dogleg Station, Yesterday 12:21PM Local/15:21GMT
"Knife" Senschall rested his muddy brown boots on the table at the remote trading posts only bar, waving his burly tatooed arm at Sylvia the barmaid to bring him another peach schnapps. He was a huge muscular man who hid his short blond hair beneath a faded khaki "lemon squeezer" which he had ringed with homosexual monkey fangs. he wore a bush shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and a second was tied around his waist, over the dark cargo pants. several knives and guns were clearly displayed upon his person. Ocker, the owner of the bar, stood behind the counter, eying the three customers while idly smearing dirt around one of the bars 7 glasses.
"Busy today," he thought "almost the whole stations turned up."
Ocker wasn't his real name, but a nickname inspired by his thick australian accent. Nobody at the station knew his real name, he had introduced himself as Morgan Freeman, claiming to be a citizen of Jiggady.
Sylvia Fry looked other at Ocker as she escorted young Fleming out the door, the seven year old was barely able to stand up already. She didn't need to know the rumour to guess the boys parentage: He was one of only two Indonesian faces at the station, despite his parents both being of middle Benjian racial origin.
The other Customer was the ever present monkey: Mr Flemings Oompa Loompa interpreter, who spent his salary on cheap rum and was forced to double as a shoe shiner to earn enough to eat.
Suddenly Mr French ran in, clutching a folded piece of paper. The others stared in shock: The forty year old black owner of the station was a very strict Moslem and had Never been seen in the bar before.
Barely able to speak, and quivering slightly he handed the telegram sheet to Ocker, who read it out in his thick accent.
"At seex PM Last Neeght the news was reecieved that your're Stashon is Tha Closest too tha Vast Diamond deposeets of the Oompa Luumpers! Dai Monds!"
Sylvia rushed to read the notice, read hair trailing behind her. In the excitement none of them noticed Knife slip out the door and walk out into the bush....

The Alconan coast, Yesterday 6:19PM/21:16GMT
"Captain" Harvey peered ahead through the fog as the prow of the Jumbuck nosed it's way into the river marked on his hand drawn charts as the "Koala" His sea bitten fingers were firm on the wheel of the old Lenin, The helmsman, Larkin,doing duty in the bow as depth soundsman. The Ship had been heavily modified following it's desertion from the dyellian navy: A lookout mast fitted, from which Lancet hung, his sharp eyes searching watching natives, next to the black and white flag which marked the ships new career; the Steel armour plates forming a wall around the top of the enlarged superstructure; the Anti tank missiles replacing the torpedo tube; the heavily repatched ECM systems. All the other crew were asleep, save the cabin boy, the eight year old Lukey Stevenson, cooking some coffee and bacon in the lee of the ADGM gunshield. The double 35mm Chaingun could wreak immense havoc, as the kid knew, having fired it upon Alconan Liners many times, First in the service of the empire, then on his own account as a pirate. All the crew were gaudily dressed in a mixture of Dyellian officers uniforms and stolen jewellery. The Captain hoped that this voyage would earn more than any before, warranting the risk of runnning the gauntlet of the now occupied coast once more.

Animals likely to be encountered in The jungles

The Homosexual monkey, Macca klatchia homosexual, and it's various related offshoots was created by Evilpsychoticguys top scientists, in conjunction with Diocletion. They are a major pest species in the jungled parts of the region, due to their ferocity. attacks on humans are an all too common occurence, and the monkeys three inch canine fangs inflict grievous wounds.

The Klatchian crocodile, Crocodylus gigantusis the worlds largest reptile, growing to lengths of 18m, with the largest recorded specimen being 2172cm from snout to tail-tip. The beasts are hunted as game beasts in Dyelli Beybi & Fasta Benj, the skins and heads being taken as trophys and the meat sold in the local supermarkets. so far the crocodiles achieve 3 kills for every crocodile shot by a safari party.

The Domokun (Domokun domokun) is a small primate, possibly related to lemurs. it has basically no neck and a thickset body. little is known about this elusive forest dweller, but it is definitely not arboreal.

The Chickaroach (Paleopteryx Galliformes) is a monstrous hybrid of chicken and cockroach, with 16 legs and 3 heads. they are also inedible. nuclear weapons are not pleasant things....

The Pudding Beast (species uncertain) was imported by Fasta Benj from somewhere a few years back, and has thrived so well the species has spread into the tropical regions to the west. They are protoplasmic creatures with no tissue organization similar to an animistic slime mould. More info when I find out where I got the things from...

Horn Swagglers are dwarf like creatures who are river/ocean pirates and tend to eat anything...human or otherwise...including Oompa Loompa...

Rotten Vernious Kinids--a mythical water beast, has yet to ever be seen.

Swangdoodles--large carnivourus birds that like horse meat, and small humans.

The Klatchian elephant (Loxodonta klatchia) is similar to the african elephant in appearance, but features several russet stripes across its back. The animal is also considerably smaller, with smaller ears and straighter tusks. They are shy and retiring creatures, as they have several natural predators. The animals dwelling in the open lands of eastern klatch are the smallest subtype, reaching only 6 foot at the shoulder. These plain and desert dwellers are also paler than their forest brethren, with longer legs and necks.

The Inflatable Baboon, Papio vocalis, is a common primate throughout the coast, ranging from Narv - X to the unclaimed region east of Gomora. It got its name from its inflatable cheek and throat patches, which it uses to increase the volume of its calls in the manner of a howler monkey. The baboons are harmless, and completely unafraid of humans.

The Electric Mongoose (Herpestes electric) is noted for it's striking colouration, making it a favoured fur in Fasta Benj. The animal was once found throughout Narv-X, but deforestation has caused the species to decline. Trading posts now acquire the animal from the oompa loompas. The colouration is a warning pattern, designed to warn off predators, as the mongoose is capable of administering a painful shock. This is achieved by similar means to those employed by electric eels and torpedos. A similarly patterned creature, (Herpestes splendids), mimics the mongoose, but is in fact harmless, so is called the electric rat.

The Klatchian gerbil (gerbillus djellii) is an unremarkable creature, included here purely because dyelli beybi demanded i include it.

The Benj Cat is yet another dangerous beastie of the southern region, a truly huge feline with always visible canines and an extensive golden mane. They grow to 5 foot at the shoulder, and are a reddish orange with black rossettes. Some relationship to dirk toothed tigers has been postulated. scientific name: Panthera diablos.

The Winged Monkey Psychohallucinia Dictatorilis has been imported independently by severla nations of the coast. they come in a bewhildering variety of colours and sizes, and are very poor flyers. quite rare, and mainly found in the dryer hills of the region, but have been sighted Klatchwide.

The Flying cat or Felis volans is NOT winged, it merely sails from tree to tree on outstretched flaps of skin in the manner of a flying squirrel. Preys upon small rodents throughout northern and western klatch.

The Horned Marmoset (Callithrex ceratops) is a small primate found in Narv and neighbouring countrys, as well as the islands of A&H. Unremarkable but for the inch long straight horns protuding upwards from it's skull, ringed with long red fur. the animal is brown with white fur on face, scalp and belly and red eyebrows, which in the male grow to massive proportions.

The Vampir Hassen Lepus Desmondus is a small creature found in the high forests of both the Alcona and Hubris Island chains. Very similar in appearence to Lepus califonuius. Known for having a pronounced set of front canine teeth, and a very nasty bite. The Vampir Hassen is not a Vampire species but uses it's large teeth and clot preventing saliva to drain a victim’s blood. It then proceeds to devour it’s prey. It is an omnivore that will eat just about anything it can either find or kill, and is considered to be only second to dolphins in intelligence. The meat makes an excellent stew.
http://www.freewebs.com/klatchia/beasties.jpg
no responsibility will be accepted for the shoddy workmanship of this pic, as I drew it on a bus

Calico took his liberty, and walked around the room freely while listening to Miss. Emily.

"Yes I am currently on leave from my normal employeers, mostly because I was in need to find a good adventure. However, I have little use for diamonds and would probably make them a donation back to my government. These men I hired to go with me are merely a means to an end. They are good at what they do, but frankly I wouldnt trust any of them to be honest in their intentions although I already have a plan to deal with that situation.

"Your proposition is indeed intriguing, but I would like to know a bit more of your interests in this expedition namely how yours are similar or different to our own. Its not that I dont trust you, its that I dont know you therefore I dont trust you." Calico smiled smoothly enjoying a game of cat and mouse with this intelligent woman.

----------------

"I dont trust liqure, it dulls the senses too much and that just makes it easier for enemies to hurt me." Bellamy continued the conversation with little interest.

Emily smiled,"Well trust is a thing best earned. Now then, I will show you what our mission is. She motions him to follow through a second door into a library. The walls are lined with books, and a massive desk stands on the center. Across the desk lies several photographs of a tall, beuitiful blond. Obviusly some are copies of formal photos and others appear to be long range shots. In some photos she is wearing a kaki uniform with black tabs on the collar (a special forces designation)
"This is Sofie Haussecker, she is the military Attache to the Markgrave here. We have evidence that she is actually a spy for the nation of Der Angst. We want you to confirm our suspicions and kill her. Most likley she will be heading to Fort Hardtack soon, so your observations and removal of her would fall on a parallel course." Her smile is quite wicked.

(OOC: For those who would ever have meet both women, the Markgrave's secretary and Miss Emily look very similar. Being about 19 year age diffrence)

OOC: Fasta, The only river I can find labled like that is the "Al Pola?" which then connects with another river and exits at an estuary at the town of Cross Harbor. Or are you saying one of the rivers farther north? I should point out that the Cross Harbor estuary curently has two of my armored muti-role cruisers patroling it. (note: I did Rp them on page 2?) and I daresay that craft would find trying to navigate upriver a bit problematic. I've made this a cross between Mobile and San Francisco really...
Of course you could be like Decatur and scream "Damn the Torpedo's full speed ahead...but the confederates didn't have air support.

I haven't said what is sitting at Harristown to the north, yet.

I'm going to assume your trying to sneek into Cross Harbor...if not I'll remove this

IC: On the bridge of the Arcman the duty officer was annoyed at the fog. He disliked sailing the channels around here. One of the techs on duty made a humph..."idiot". The duty officer, a mere Lt. Commander looked over at the man and said "Bilkins, what are you talking about?"

Bilkins looked a bit sheepish and then said..."Sorry sir, radar has picked up a decent sized ship moving into the estuary in the fog. Not much to say really just his course is fairly odd, and he's in the old channel."

Hmph, hail him on the radio...and tell him to get back in the marked channel. Send gunboat 41 to hold their damn hands into port. Likely a guy who thinks because he hasn't lost a toy boat in his bath that he can sail anything anywhere. I don't want a ship stuck on the sands durring my watch..."

Gunboat 41 was the Alconian L design that patrolled the inter-island water ways. 98 ft long, with two massive engines powering four water jets. The boats carried a 30mm Rapid fire gun in an armored turret, mounted behind the enclosed bridge. She was a modified german design, with two heavy machine guns flanking the bridge and a 20 mm chain gun mounted on the rear deck. Under the raised fron forecastle were two topedo tubes. The boat began to approach the unknown vessel and hailed
"Ahoy...you are off the main channel..."

Dock 5
The mitita men look at him and then around..."Yeah, well we never can tell with these damn Vaux, never do their jobs that well and then when oportunity arises, don't even give notice. I guess your Vrakian? Are those rumors true that your king is so large that he he has his own graviational pull?"

The Palace
Sofie returns and glares at the secretary. Who is obviously scared stiff of the military officer. The woman, and her dress slip back into her office.
Sofie turns to her guests, "It appears that we have had a very daring raid by some of the less desirable native poplulation. They are now dead, thanks to the navy. I just need your signitures on a few documents and you can be on your way. At present, most of the hotel space is undesirable. May I suggest that you and your team enjoy the hospitality of Wolverine Minning. We can discuss what information I have gathered this evening after dinner."

The small Pub
Frank Athleby had short hair. pale blue eyes, and a distinct look of tired failure about him. The wiry frame of the man looked over this 'reporter' with a odd look and said, "sure...but I don't swing that way."

(sorry that it seems to take forever between my updates...I'm trying to keep up a little better.)

"Now how much cash would you like withdrawn from your account?"

((OOC: I'm assuming that your banks are capable of a wire transfer of funds here))

The captain was a little hesitant to hand his voucher over, and quickly retrieved it after she scanned it. After all, that little slip of plastic represented his right to vote in the Commonwealth. He listened to her explain about citizenship and income tax, but most of it washed right over him. "I can withdraw in Krondor, right?" he asked stupidly. Upon recieving her answer, he nodded quickly. "Uh, twenty thousand Kr?" he asked, ashamed to want such a large sum.

(yeah, they are..)

The Outfiters
((OOC: Yes, a few items say seven boxes...and a few of your items have been hit by 9mm bullets))

(ok - I'll call it most of Dr. Michan's equipment, all four tents, most of the cooking supplies, and two small boxes of food. Sound reasonable?)

Total Due: .........................................9,585 Generals

He handed the bill to Sir William, and said "I haven't padded the prices, going to have to if my shipments don't start comming in."

Sir William looked at the total, puffing his cheeks out in surprise at the large sum. However, he needed those weapons, for protection as much as to show off to his friends when he returned home. He withdrew nine one thousand general coins, a five hundred, and a one hundred. After handing them over and thinking somewhat, Sir William handed over an extra fifty piece. "Keep the change, sir. You've been a great help." Sir William then clapped, ordered his Gallagan helpers to pick up the bags, and started off back to the Vagabond.

On the way, however, he considered the auction. Pausing, he decided to order three of the four Gallagans with him back to the ship with the weapons and supplies. Gallagans were a natural choice for porters in this sort of expedition: in addition to being naturally used to jungle conditions, they were reliable, especially so far from home.

Sir William then headed towards the sound of bidding.

The Old Dock

"Well, considering that you now have equipment that has bullet holes in it, and some it is floating in the river, and some of it is now at the bottom...I would say that they will learn the error of their decision."

The doctor cast his eyes down in shame, coughing slightly into his hand. Behind them, one of the men started to call out something rude, when...

He turns to the men who men who were pointing and ribbing each other. "And as for you, I'm assuming that your the formentioned missing crew...does this look like the place to leave equipment laying around unattended? Hmm, your employer has just been robbed, and some of his equipment damaged. If he doesn't take it out of your hide I'd be surprised, if he doesn't dock you your wages, he's a fool. It appears that there is several hundred Krondor of equipment damaged here. I hope you enjoy whatever you went off to do, since it is likely going to cost you that much..." His tone was even more stern with the returning crewmen.

The crewmen stood shocked - with Lou and Tony still in town, they had little leadership. They hadn't expected so stern a lecture before Captain MacKenna returned. For the most part, they stood around and flapped their lips, a few trying to explain what their intentions had been. It was clear that the man would tolerate no back talk from them.

Men from the Great Shield itself tended to be docile, polite, and eager to serve, if not particuarly creative. However, most Shieldians also ended up in the Royal Iansislean Navy if they went into maritime careers - the RIN payed better the Royal Mining and Manufacturing, and had been shown to give preference to Shieldians. As a result, most of the merchant services outside the direct command of the Admiralty got Dominion men - more reliable in a storm at sea, but liable to have an illegitimate child in every port.

However, they now lacked a leader of any sort to organize their defenses, they were helpless. One or two actually considered running. Dr. Michan tried to look smug at the lecture they were recieving, but ended up looking a little ill instead. In the meantime, the Gallagans Sir William had ordered back arrived, their arms full of high caliber automatic weapons and ammunition. They considered the scene, wondering if they should go get the expedition leader.

OOC: Nah, your not too far behind. Fasta and D.B. are a bit off the reservation at the moment...of course their rotation is such that they post when I'm asleep! Also, sounds resonable to me. All of those items would be good trade stuff for them to steal. Although most geologists equipment beyound the microscopes are fairly robust. might be dinged by a bullet but not destroyed. (one had my office in the geology/linthology store room!)

Second, there is no bidding at the moment, :? . Notice the fact about the passenger station being deserted on your lost crew post. But he just returned to where the bidding had been. (Not hard to find)

The Bank
She smiles, gets up and opens a small safe in her desk. She places out several small buddles of cash, 5 bundles of 20 kr (10,000), 10 bundles of 5 kr (5000), 2 bundles of 1 Kr bills and 12 100 gr bills. "These are 100 griffen notes, basicly they are 400 krondor bills. Easier to carry. Now then, let me get your paperwork...."
She hands him an embosed folder containing:
The information on the account
The account access card
A copy of the signiture and fingerprint file
and a notice that with his savings account, the good captian had a life insurance policy of 250,000 Krondor payable upon his death to Lord (??) as long as his account was in good standing with a balance of 20,000 Kr.
(accidental death only, war excluded)


Getting a ride
The Brick Building appeared deserted. The only sign of life at the moment was the help wanted sign, in a side window. Upon entering the lobby, a few coughs could be heard from the other side of an archway. The area beyond was two sories in height, capped with a circular cealing that had windows rising the full height of the room at the other end. The room was filled with long wooden benches. Various souls sat or laid there, almost all just apparently waiting for something.

Returning to the entrance lobby, the walls were covered in a blue green tile up to about 6 feet. The wall above being painted with frescos depicting the advance of naval ships bringing peace and prosperity to the orange faced natives. While small gray figures ran for dark caverns with men and dogs in close persuit. Along two sides of the lobby were small windows. The word tickets painted on the upper sashes. All had a sign saying closed placed in them, with only darkness on the other side.

At one corner was a large set of double doors with a larger window next to it. The words baggage claim was lighted above the doors and a small, scruffy man sat reading a copy of Newsday, ignoring the rest of the world. He was obviously old, and his bright blue cap seemed at odds with the rest of him. A hand written note was pasted on the window next to him.
No known boats headed upriver...
Don't Ask me if I expect one, cause I don't
Don't Ask me why I don't, cause you know why
Ya can give me money, but I ain't God and can't
whip a ship out of my A** now can I?
Begging and Pleeding will get my boot up your A**
I can help ya with: Lost and Found
Finding a good pub
Telling Ya all about the invasion of China Wright
Telling Ya directions (but don't ask where the riverboats are!)

(but all is not lost! for somewhere fortune smiles upon our intrepid adventurer) A man in a captain's uniform walks in. (OOC: The same man the captain ran into back at the bank) "Tilly, you fool. The next time you 'send' someone my way...ask if they have the damn cash. I'm not running a charity service you know."

Tilly, looked over the edge of his paper and said. "Well now, they did bid 6,500 Krondor per person on their last bid. Didn't make the cut though, so they were betting with blanks?"

"No, they were betting with Austrian Shillings, which are not even legal tender anymore!" Captain Debra replied with exasperation.

The old Dock
The miltia officer looked at the returning men with absolutly no venom in his voice. He recognized the squad support gun almost immediatly "Are any of you either the good Captain or Sir William?, No. Strange that you can be trusted while these vagabonds need constant supervision." He turned slightly to the man at his right. "Sargent, I want a few men to keep these miscreants from bolting. They are not welcome to wander off into our society. And to inform those who are in charge of this expedition of what occured here when they return."

He then returns to the Gallagens, "You on the other hand, I suggest that you guard that equipment, I don't feel like having any other incidents with Horn Swagglers. I would also like to reinforce today's lesson, here is a cupon each for a free beer at my bar, Max's just up the way. I hope your leader will give you a break so that you may enjoy the rewards of good stewardship." He glares once more at the rest and leaves.

The sargent continues to hold his submachine gun and say nothing, but then the disapproval is evident on the faces of the remaining armed men.

Emily smiled,"Well trust is a thing best earned. Now then, I will show you what our mission is. She motions him to follow through a second door into a library. The walls are lined with books, and a massive desk stands on the center. Across the desk lies several photographs of a tall, beuitiful blond. Obviusly some are copies of formal photos and others appear to be long range shots. In some photos she is wearing a kaki uniform with black tabs on the collar (a special forces designation)
"This is Sofie Haussecker, she is the military Attache to the Markgrave here. We have evidence that she is actually a spy for the nation of Der Angst. We want you to confirm our suspicions and kill her. Most likley she will be heading to Fort Hardtack soon, so your observations and removal of her would fall on a parallel course." Her smile is quite wicked.

Calico listened intently to Miss Emily and began to smile when he found out exactly what it was she wanted him to do. It was well within his skill to accomplish such a task and he thought it would be a nice little side thing to take care of out in the jungles. Calico considered Bellamy and his men, and decided that he wouldnt tell them of this little job. He had only hired them for their expertise in treasure hunting, and while they were not above killing for money, they often killed those who stood in their way of treasure, he didnt want them bungling this mission or taking a cut of it.

"Very well, my lady you have my services. It is important that we still head out into the forests with intentions of diamond hunting, for the sake of those that I travel with. I want to keep this little mission from them because I am not sure of what they may do, it is best to use them without telling them what we are up too."

Calico turned to Phillip Brock and formally introduced himself. He was sure that, despite the superb abilities of Bellamy's men in tracking, this explorer would prove to be a great help in navigating the area.

OOC: important plot point. the Guide doesn't know about the assasination. In fact, your going to find that Miss Emily is off the reservation...very off the reservation.

Phillip Brock returned the greating in the back parlor upon their return. He smiled and stated dryly. "I'd prefer to not to follow the main road in. It appears that someone has gone to great lengths to stop the flow of other adventures by blowing one of the more crucial bridges. Shall we gather the rest of your men?"

He guides Calico out the door, and then around down the interior staircase. "I'll show you to the gazebo myself." He leads him out through the kitchen down stairs to bellemy and his men. "I don't know what the Madam, wants you to do. But if ISD is now using her for higher than just intellgence gathering ops, well they must be scrapping the barrel. What exactly are you carrying at the moment? I assume a blade of some sort." He asks as they cross the garden.

"Yes, I do have a rather handy blade." Calico pulls the Katana from his back and twirlls it about in the air a few times before replacing it. "Also a pair of Desert Eagles that I usually keep at my sides. My companions each have assault rifles and pistols."

"I seem to remember several others saying that the main bridge was blown out and that most travel has been delayed. Im sure though you know other routs out of the city. It may help to know what transportation we brought with us. We have three hummers, five or so ATV's they should all help with the rought terrain I anticipate we will cross. Also we have three inflatable rafts, good sized ones, we should be able to fit all of our company along with a good portion of our gear. We had figured on spliting the party if it came down to it later on, some by land some by water."

They went around to the back of the house and quickly gathered up the men who were still attacking the buffet. Calico went ahead and talked briefely to Bellamy about the guide they now had who knew the land. Bellamy agreeded with taking him along, only concerned what type of share he expected if they found any diamonds.

Calico led them back to the warehouse where their things were stored, and made some more small talk with Brock on the way.

"So what is your opinion on the vallidaty of these diamond finds, you must know something from your previous explorations?"

OOC: Is the sofie that was at her house any conection to the sofie she wants dead? I guess Im confused by the multiple sofies

"Yes, I do have a rather handy blade." Calico pulls the Katana from his back and twirlls it about in the air a few times before replacing it. "Also a pair of Desert Eagles that I usually keep at my sides. My companions each have assault rifles and pistols."

"I seem to remember several others saying that the main bridge was blown out and that most travel has been delayed. Im sure though you know other routs out of the city. It may help to know what transportation we brought with us. We have three hummers, five or so ATV's they should all help with the rought terrain I anticipate we will cross. Also we have three inflatable rafts, good sized ones, we should be able to fit all of our company along with a good portion of our gear. We had figured on spliting the party if it came down to it later on, some by land some by water."

They went around to the back of the house and quickly gathered up the men who were still attacking the buffet. Calico went ahead and talked briefely to Bellamy about the guide they now had who knew the land. Bellamy agreeded with taking him along, only concerned what type of share he expected if they found any diamonds.

Calico led them back to the warehouse where their things were stored, and made some more small talk with Brock on the way.

"So what is your opinion on the vallidaty of these diamond finds, you must know something from your previous explorations?"

OOC: Is the sofie she wants dead any similarity to the sofie at the house? I am just confused by the multiple sofies

OOC: The Sophie she want's dead is this Sophie:
http://www.eng.auburn.edu/users/donatgw/Loop/mars2.jpg
Sophie Haussecker, who you will note is with the Vrakians
versus the Sophie who is also a blond but decidedly less dangerous in these circumstances

IC: "Well, there was someone who once found a dimond in some of the gravel east of where the fort now is. I haven't much in the way of geology, but with the overgrowth...you're not going to just notice a kimberlite deposit without finding any analuvial deposits. Based on Bill's rep it is somewhere near hardtack, and your not going to get anything out of Anne's but the clamp..."



The guide had picked up his truck on the way to the warehouse. It was a Ranger version I, cheap easy to handle, and capable of getting out of most problems. The front had an oversized winch that seemed to dominate the grill. The back of his vehicle had a weapons rack with the squad support gun, and a large bore rifle. The rest of his equipment was stored in large cases that were made of light metal, the tops had locks more for inquistive creatures than anything else. Two additional 15 gallon fuel tanks were mounted on each side of the full spare tire. He didn't say much, just placed on a wide brimmed hat, and got into his vehicle.
"We will be going into the jungle by the Occa path. The problem is that the trail isn't much in that direction, and the natives are a lot less freindly south of the river. And don't let the damn monkey's near us..."

He led them back to the main drag of Cross Harbor and south, through town to the large bridge crossing the river. They continued south on gravel roads. The land was covered in orchards and feilds with flocks of sheep. Occasionally, a homestead would appear far from the road. And then vanish as they went over the next hill.
They turned at a small dusty cross roads marked by a bright, new white church and headed east, towards the rising hills and jungle. The final scene of civilization was a small, one road town spread along the gravel highway. It wasn't anything to remember.

A few wooden houses and a coulple of stores, two churches standing across the road from each other, a large barn structure that had the words Manx Coca painted on the end. Across from that stood a gas station. Three large, raised tanks standing next to it. The pumps were covered by a tin roof supported by nothing more than some slender wooden poles. The buidling itself was nothing more than a mobile home, with a lean to attached to one end for vehicle repairs. The end of some pickup truck pointed out of it. The dust being thick enough on it that the color could only be guessed at.

The guide turned into a gas station, stopped and started to top off his fuel. A man in a dirty white t-shirt, and overalls walked out from the repair area.

(augh - sorry if I seem to be missing out on a lot of points. I'm not usually that bad, honest! I'll try and pay a little closer attention.

As for the geologist's equipment, that could be the stuff that sunk. If it isn't fazed by bullets, I'm sure the estuary could do a number on it.)

The Bank

The captain considered the bills, leafing through them quickly. Iansislean currency tended towards small amounts of large denomination coins, rather than large amounts of small denomination bills - in fact, the idea of a paper-based currency was still a foreign concept throughout most of the Commonwealth.

However, he quickly pocketed it, his mind briefly thinking of how rich he'd be if he simply skipped the country with the twenty grand. No, he thought, dismissing the idea as soon as it came. This was still the Lord Clancy of Whitman's money, and he didn't look kindly on traitors or freeloaders. MacKenna instead stood, thanked the woman kindly, and showed himself out of the bank, walking back to the ship in no particular hurry.

The Brick Building

Sir William and the Gallagan advanced through the river boat house nervously - he had always been better in arboreal settings than urban ones. In fact, the entire setting reminded him of the East Gallaga Company headquarters in Nusheld - especially the mural. He had seen a similar one in the lobby of the headquarters, depecting the esablishment of the New Shield colony. Sir William then quickly peered into the 'closed' windows, and found everything as he had expected it to be - closed.

The aging explorer was ready to dispair when he noticed that the baggage claim appeared to be open. He almost bothered the grouchy-looking attendent when the Gallagan porter he had with him tugged on his shirt, pointing at the sign. Sir William started reading it, noting the arrival of the man in the captain's uniform out of the corner of his eye. Though the note certainly wasn't encouraging, the conversation between the baggage handler - Tilly? - and the captain certainly was.

"Pardon me, gentlemen," he spoke up in his north-Shieldian accent. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation." He addressed Captain Debra. "Am I to understand that you, sir, are a river-boat captain, looking for fares? I should like to contract your services if that is the case, and I can certainly pay." While he was talking, he dug into the coin purse on his right side - containing the cash Lord Clancy had given him before he departed Thorntree to catch the Vagabond at Fort Jackson - and presented a handful of coins, mostly 1,000 Gnl pieces, but with the occasional 10,000 Gnl coin mixed in.

The Old Dock

The Gallagan workers were surprised by their reception, and frankly a little embarassed. After setting down the weapons near what was left of the supplies, they thanked the militiaman for the cupons, trying to downplay what compliments he had given them.

Meanwhile, displeasure and a touch on envy was present on all the crew's faces.

" Gallers," muttered a Gadsanian sailor, looking on as one volunteered to return and inform Sir William at the riverboat house. Dr. Michan, who supposed he was back in 'command', nodded, adding that he thought that would be a good idea.

"Tell me about it," muttered another, whose olive features marked him as from Tharia. "They get free beer just for lugging a load of crap down to the ship? I did ten times that over the voyage, and all I got was nothin'." He spat on the ground, not even noticing that his complaint made little sense.

Back near Max's

"Ah...are you sure this is a good idea, Lou?" asked Tony as they walked up to the door.

"It's a [insert proper expletive here] [i]great idea, idiot," retorted Lou, smacking him across the back of the head before opening the door. "Now just shut up and play along, right?"

He walked up to the bar, nodding at the bartender. "Howdy. My name's Louis, and this is Anthony. We've just come into port, and are looking for jobs - cleaning glasses, mixing drinks, hauling crates: we're good for it. I was just wondering if this establishment might be interested in hiring us?" He, of course, had very little intention of working there; at least, not after he could make off back to the ship with a good sized load of high-priced alcohol.

OOC: Got room for one more?

OOC: Got room for one more?
This tends to be a slow Rp, but if you can figure a way in...fine.

Dock 5

The mitita men look at him and then around..."Yeah, well we never can tell with these damn Vaux, never do their jobs that well and then when oportunity arises, don't even give notice. I guess your Vrakian? Are those rumors true that your king is so large that he he has his own graviational pull?"

Peter smiled but inwardly thought, Idiot! If this was Vrak I would gut you like the insolent cur you are!

“Well, yeah. He’s pretty big I daresay. Anyhow, is it okay if we can get our stuff out? You guys seem to have your hands full and, well, our boss is getting a little antsy about the equipment. You know how bosses can be, eh?”

The Palace

Sofie returns and glares at the secretary. Who is obviously scared stiff of the military officer. The woman, and her dress slip back into her office.
Sofie turns to her guests, "It appears that we have had a very daring raid by some of the less desirable native poplulation. They are now dead, thanks to the navy. I just need your signitures on a few documents and you can be on your way. At present, most of the hotel space is undesirable. May I suggest that you and your team enjoy the hospitality of Wolverine Minning. We can discuss what information I have gathered this evening after dinner."

Rick replies, “That sounds great but we have a place to bunk down at our own offices and we need to drop off our luggage. What time did you have in mind for dinner?”

The small Pub

Frank Athleby had short hair. pale blue eyes, and a distinct look of tired failure about him. The wiry frame of the man looked over this 'reporter' with a odd look and said, "sure...but I don't swing that way."

Gary wryly smiled and replied, “Ah…no. I mean, I work for an international paper out of Dyelli Bebyi, “here he flashed a press card, ”and was sent out to report on this diamond story. Lot’s of people talk it seems but, you know, it’s pretty hard to find out what’s true or not. One reporter to another, do you think this diamond frenzy is all BS or what?” Gary then looked at the bartender and said, "I'll have what he's having and I'm buying his."

OOC: I just want Gary to appear that he’s working for a paper outside of Vrak. Sorry for using you there Dyelli Beybi since I didn’t ask you previously and if you object, I can always edit.

They bounded along the dirt roads in single file, Brock leading the way in his Ranger followed by the three humers and the ATV's. So far the going had been relatively smooth, they had yet to run into the rough terrain that they anticipated and knew that they would find eventually.

So far to the men from Jiggady the scenery was much like that of back home, the rugged countryside and the sparse buildings. Calico rode in the first hummer, and he expertly shifted the wheel back and forth over the curving rodes. Each of the hummers had a driver and a passenger, the rest of the five men were darting in and out between the trucks and the fields hooting and hollering as they went over bumps.

They did have the foresight to bring with them extra containers for gas, however, they forgot about filling them up before leaving. It wasnt a problem so far and they anticipated that they would be able to get a good ways before refulling (ooc I really have no idea how atv's are with gas consumption) When Brock pulled into the gas station each man sighed in relief that they would be able to top off their tanks and fill their extra ones.

The five on the ATV's each got off, laughing and bouncing about like kids, making those that were in the trucks jealous. Calico rolled his eyes and took the time to strech his legs as they waited to fill up.

OOC: One very long post
Max's Bar
The bartender was a woman. Red hair, green eyes she looked like a model, with her large breasts that were obvious...she looked at the two sailors. "Well I need a bus boy and a dish washer, they both pay 3 Krondor an hour, plus room and board. The food is leftovers and you two can share a room in the loft over the machine shop at the back. You want it?"

The Bank
At the moment, every two bit thug has wandered east, so crime has actually dropped. Until someone figures out that robbing may be easier than finding dimonds. So no robbery, theft...The shops have all just reopened during this...various items are advertised,
The candy shop, the liquor store, a hardware store, a produce market....some look dingy others fine.

The Passenger Station
Captain Danya looks at the two men and their coin with mixed feelings. "Ah, I don't recognize that currency Sir, and after someone tried to convince me this morning that Austrian Shillings were worth 5 krondor each...I'm a little hesident to take foreign coin....Ah, Tilly how much is this stuff worth?" He looks at the man behind the counter.

Tilly responds with "What the hell do I look like a bank, just because the tellers do foreign coin exchange doesn't mean I know...him...looks like Generals..." He pulls out the same book used by a few other merchants and then proclaims, "Worth 69 farthing on the krondor."

The riverman turns back to Sir William. "Well, you have good money, so the Jenny might be for hire. How much in terms of people and equipment are you taking upriver?"

The Old Dock
One of the milita men overheard the comment. "You twits are as dumb as you are worthless. The cap' gave them those beers to remind You that good service and doing your duty gets rewarded. What were you thinking leaving your gear lying around? You don't have to follow that spinless git," he motions to the geologist "but damn, one of you should have covered your own asses and stayed behind." He shakes his head at them.

Dock 5
"You made a deal with the dock master, you follow it. Just got the all clear...so you can start working again."

They wander down the dock towards the river. Talking amongst themselves and laughing.

The cranes start to move again overhead...and most of the Oompa Loompa have also gone back to work. One has proceded to piss on the milita officer, and is now sprawled out on the ground from a very forceful kick. A few of the small folk pause and then turn away. It appears that few thought that form of protest would be effective.

The Palace
(I've been misspelling sophie!! Don't tell anyone :oops: )
Haussecker looks at them," I just need your signiture here. I didn't know your facilites in town were so exstensive. As for dinner say eight. My house is 1250 River Street. The truck wil take you back to the Hydra Mining offices on Buckhead isn't it?"

The small pub
"Well welcome to the outpost of civilzation. Where the beer is cheap, and the leader is a madmen." Frank says. He seems a bit grogy even before drinking. He holds his glass for a toast.

"Here is to His Grace, Alexander the Third, and his greatness the Tzar. May one not die before Mav, and may the other not marry her..."

He finished the toast with a swig of his new drink, and then continues..."As for the reality of the dimond find. There are only a few people who Know what the situation really is. The first is Mr. Bill Anted, who now is the first coma patient of the Cross Harbor General. And I may be writting his obit soon. Then we have the reporter who made the discovery...."

He takes another sip of his drink "Who is now a permanet resident of the Hardtack cemetary. Then we have the two milita men who also found the dimonds in the backpack. No one knows their names, since the Markgrave ordered a clamp down." He then finishes his drink...

"The fact of the matter is, that the Markgrave has gone over the edge. It's a power vacuum that most say is being filled by the Iron B***. It's only a matter of time before the Privy Council reacts and replaces him. Only the patronage of the Prime Minister is keeping the boy in place, but the dimonds themselves? Well, there sitting under 8 feet of concrete under the govenor's palace, along with most of Bill Anted's personel effects. In a safe ment for some purpose, but large, so the Attache threw them in there. " He makes a waving motion.

"So the Markgrave can't lay a finger on them. She, the Iron B*** hasn't let anyone else outside of the military see them either. She refuses to speculate on their value. So unless you can figure a way into her bed, and get her to show you the dimonds..." He shrugs "your out of luck like the rest of us."

They bounded along the dirt roads in single file, Brock leading the way in his Ranger followed by the three humers and the ATV's. So far the going had been relatively smooth, they had yet to run into the rough terrain that they anticipated and knew that they would find eventually.

So far to the men from Jiggady the scenery was much like that of back home, the rugged countryside and the sparse buildings. Calico rode in the first hummer, and he expertly shifted the wheel back and forth over the curving rodes. Each of the hummers had a driver and a passenger, the rest of the five men were darting in and out between the trucks and the fields hooting and hollering as they went over bumps.

They did have the foresight to bring with them extra containers for gas, however, they forgot about filling them up before leaving. It wasnt a problem so far and they anticipated that they would be able to get a good ways before refulling (ooc I really have no idea how atv's are with gas consumption) When Brock pulled into the gas station each man sighed in relief that they would be able to top off their tanks and fill their extra ones.

The five on the ATV's each got off, laughing and bouncing about like kids, making those that were in the trucks jealous. Calico rolled his eyes and took the time to strech his legs as they waited to fill up.

The local watched the dials rolling on the pumps. He didn't say anything, not until they were done filling up then just ..."Well, ya owe me 350Kr for all of that." (which was the price for all of the vehicles being filled up) and looked around for someone to pay him.
Brock only pulled out his pipe and lit it for a moment. He knew the men on the ATV's were going to be exposed.

"Well, I hope you boys enjoyed that. Because your going to have to keep your eyes peeled in the jungle." He points to a small two track lane that follows a creek into the brush and the jungle beyound. He walks over to a small cooler and pulls out a cold water bottle. Pays the attendent a krondor and then looks at Calico. "Do we stop for lunch or should we drive through it? The best place to camp is going to be a clearing that's about 7 hours from here."

Dock 5

"You made a deal with the dock master, you follow it. Just got the all clear...so you can start working again."

They wander down the dock towards the river. Talking amongst themselves and laughing.

“Hey, thanks again,” said Peter, still outwardly smiling and climbing back onto the forklift. Mark, looking for an opening, melted in amongst the containers and searched for his target.

The Palace

Haussecker looks at them," I just need your signiture here. I didn't know your facilites in town were so exstensive. As for dinner say eight. My house is 1250 River Street. The truck wil take you back to the Hydra Mining offices on Buckhead isn't it?"

Rick smiled even wider as he carefully read then signed the various documents. Troy looked over the documents as well.

“That’s right, 125 Buckhead. And I wouldn’t call a few rooms with cots extensive. That’s just what some of our offices have when there is a job. Usually we stay at hotels but…well…it seemed more prudent for the company to have some kind of dormitory out here. I guess the bosses like to keep a close reign on the boys when they are in a new place. Eight o’clock sounds fine. Would that be Troy and myself?”

By Bok’s maw, I hope I don’t come across as a complete idiot with the last line, thought Rick.


The small pub

"So the Markgrave can't lay a finger on them. She, the Iron B*** hasn't let anyone else outside of the military see them either. She refuses to speculate on their value. So unless you can figure a way into her bed, and get her to show you the dimonds..." He shrugs "your out of luck like the rest of us."

Gary toasted back, “To his Grace and to the Tzar.”

He took a swig and then exclaimed in a shocked tone,

“Golly, but this sounds crazier and crazier. It sure does sound like grist for the mill, eh? But who’s the Iron B***? The Attaché? She sounds dangerous. I mean, rubbing people out at all. Must be a lot of diamonds for someone to do that. And hey, really sorry to hear about the reporter if he was a friend of yours Frank. He was a ‘he’, right?

Max's Bar

"I think I can manage bussing, ma'am," Lou said, smiling in a somewhat sleezy manner, "And Anthony here is the best dishwasher I've ever met." Tony glared up at him, narrowing his eyes slightly. "We'd be honored to accept employment," Lou continued. "Would it be possible to start at once? We're, ah, a little strapped for cash, I'm afraid." He shrugged slightly.

On the way back from the bank

Captain MacKenna wasn't a bad man, just an underpaid one. Even as a member of Iansisle's middleclass, his salary wasn't too much higher than the common sailor at only about fifteen generals per day. He stopped every now and then to peer through shop's windows, feeling the large bill role in his pocket. He needed to buy so much: look at that wonderous moving picture box; that tea set; that print of some new-fangled aeroflyer!

No! he reminded himself, a picture of Lord Clancy popping into his head. He forced himself to continue to the dock, where he found...

The Old Dock

"But they're just a bunch of damn stupid Gallers!" protested one man, from the Foothills by the look of him, while gesturing at the now somewhat nervous Gallagan porters. "I'm a Shieldian, by God - the best there is! They're jus' a half step above a monkey!"

One of the Gallagans chattered quickly back in Delta Gallagan, being too incensed to think of the proper English curse words.

"Chee chee chee!" yelled back the same man, "Yeah, go to hell, you s-" He started to lunge at the Gallagan, who seemed ready to fight back, had not parties on both sides stepped in to restrain their comrades (and militiamen, I assume?)

Just then, Captain MacKenna arrived. His eyes quickly took in everything that was happening, but he bellowed "WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS GOING ON HERE?!?" anyway, just for good measure. The Gallagans were too exicted to remember their basic English lessons, and the sailors tripped over one another trying to explain.

The Passenger Station

Sir William had been ready to jump in and degend the honor of the general once or twice, but was satisfied by Tilly's response. "I have seven men, several boxes of equipment, and..." He paused, "At most six llamas, perhaps fewer."

(OOC:Just quick note, Dock 4 is a container/ Dock 5 is mixed.)

The Palace


Rick smiled even wider as he carefully read then signed the various documents. Troy looked over the documents as well.

“That’s right, 125 Buckhead. And I wouldn’t call a few rooms with cots extensive. That’s just what some of our offices have when there is a job. Usually we stay at hotels but…well…it seemed more prudent for the company to have some kind of dormitory out here. I guess the bosses like to keep a close reign on the boys when they are in a new place. Eight o’clock sounds fine. Would that be Troy and myself?”

By Bok’s maw, I hope I don’t come across as a complete idiot with the last line, thought Rick.

Any of your staff with a background in geology is invited also. I've got some test bore survey's to show you. Oku is going to go crazy trying to cook for more than two biggies.

The small pub


“Golly, but this sounds crazier and crazier. It sure does sound like grist for the mill, eh? But who’s the Iron B***? The Attaché? She sounds dangerous. I mean, rubbing people out at all. Must be a lot of diamonds for someone to do that. And hey, really sorry to hear about the reporter if he was a friend of yours Frank. He was a ‘he’, right?

"Hell I didn't know him, second rate freelancer. Don't even know where he's from. As for the Iron B***, Major Sophie Haussecker herself. Although who'd she rub out? She's not someone to take lightly, she's a black tab was the roommate of Elizabeth Crawford in college. Why do you think she's sitting in that office keeping tabs on the situation for Markgravine."

ooc:Bleh, got distracted with various things.. hm, now to figure out where I'm up to..


The Sheriff finshes writting up something in a small black book. He looks at the fact they they have apparently stripped the boat of it's cargo. Then fishes the passports out of a pocket and produces a stamp. He doesn't appear to be that familar with it, but after a few tries gets the unit to work with the desired results. He makes a few more notations in the passports and returns to the two gentlmen. "Here you are sirs, your validated passports...you have three days before your temporary visa expire for this area."
He then hands them a pink slip of paper. "This is your recipt for the machine gun, When you are ready to leave, take it to the Armory to have your gun returned. Since you will be leaving by our main port, it is on the commons. It is labled. Now, I need to get home before my wife throws dinner back...so excuse me." He walks off and gets in the car. The vehicle goes south.

Nodding as he takes the paper, Sir Henry considers that he hopes not to be forced somehow to run out the length of the visa on this little island. He may as well have gone to Newry otherwise.

"Do you suppose, Sir Henry, that he means we're able to collect the Camel before we leave for Umpalaland, or are we to do without it and pick it up on our way home?"

Neither Walmingtonian was doing well with the pronunciation of their destination, and Sir Henry had taken to calling it Umpalaland, since that reminded him of his glory days in southern Africa. The baron had given in and adopted Sir Henry's method of coping.

"Mh. I expect we'll fetch it to-night, or in the morning, whenever we ship out. Bates fellow's coming back." He indicated with a slight nod.


The men from the pub start returning, talking and being much more merry than they had been before. Some, make wispers to Bates and then head off in other directions...He nods to them and shakes their hands, and returns to the two men. "Well now, time to eat. Tonights meal choice is either a plate of mixed Wurst...I mean sausage, with a sauce and a small bowl of corn chowder, or Benkadale Stew. The bread here is excellent"...he smiles at them.

"I should like to try that stew, I think!" Came the baron's keen reply.

Wayne was still fumbling with paper and passport, and it seemed some effort for him to consider his evening meal whilest folding pages away into his pocket. A deep mumbling sound and the wiggling of his considerable moustache preceeded the words "Sausages, good man!"

"Most hospitable of you chaps." Thunder-ten-tronckh added, smiling at Bates and nodding to the departing men.

Before presumably leaving for the meal, Wayne drew out his pocket watch and inquired as to local time, both here and over in Cross Harbour.

Max's Pub
"Fine....the dinner crowd is expected to start entering soon." She turns to a swinging door behind her and yells "Dan, got a new washer and bus boy." A man emerges from the kitchen, He is short and stocky, looks more like a brick wall. He has an odd looking cap on his head, that seems out of place with the white cook uniform he is wearing. A massive red beard attempts to cover the three scars that cross his face. He walks with a limp in his left leg. He looks at the two men with a squint in his blue eyes, and says..."Where are you two boys from?"

The Old Dock
A few attempted to restrain the group. A few others pulled out their bayonets, the sargent just illustrated his displeasure by drawing back the bolt on his gun, loading in.

At the arrival of the captian, the Sargent raised his submachine gun and fired a burst into the air, he then shouted "Quiet!, all of you!" In his best parade ground cant.
In a more reasonable tone he started to speak, "Sir, I see that you are Captain Mackenna of this vessel. I am sorry to inform you that your supplies have been raided. At some point in the afternoon, you left this man.." he points to the doctor "...in charge of unloading your supplies. I'm afraid that he failed in his duty, and allowed the crew to wander off, which is also unexcusable."

He glares at the Shieldians, "A group of Horn Swagglers appears to have infiltrated the dock area dressed as native Oompa Loompa porters. They apparently started to remove your supplies to a secreted boat. They were caught in the act by a patroling Militaman, who gave warning. The Hornswagglers opened fire, and our man returned fire. Your remaining supplies were caught in the cross fire. The Horn Swagglers then attempted to escape with their stolen goods upriver. Their boat was destroyed by the Navy. I'm afraid that nothing but Swaggler bodies has been recovered. Approximatly thirty minutes after the siren, these men returned to their posts." He points at the crew.

"The remaining staff, appears to have returned from a shopping expedition with Sir William. We will allow you to deal with this matter on your own. For future reference, or insurance claims, a report has been filed at city hall. Good day captain."
He gives a short bow and then walks with several of the militamen towards the gates. The remaining men in gray give cold stares to the Shieldians and disperse to stations along the dock.

The Passenger Station
Captaian Danya visible shutters at the word llama. "Alright, I've got an open cabin in the texas and the rest can sleep on hammocks in the cross passage. I've got room for your gear, but I'm going to put the blasted llama's on a pen on the fuel barge we're pushing upriver. Dirty animals, never did like them. The charge is 30,000 Krondor. With an immediate 10,000 Kr deposit. I'll take these general thingie's for that, but the rest needs to be in cash or a bank draft from a Klatchian Bank, and not one of those Emperial ones that can't figure out an intrest payment for three months. That's the hard terms, do we have a deal?"

The Outer Islands
Bates laughs, "Well most hosptiable of you to pay for dinner. Now then, let's get inside the air is getting a bit nippy. As for the time, well it's about 7 here, but a few hours later in Cross Harbor. I think it's a few time zones off."

((OOC: I'm keeping track and inforcing time line continutiy which is NOT based on post location. (Note Vrak is now at about 4:00 pm having just gotten past the swaggler incident.) Jiggady, and D.B. are at next morning, as is F.B. Iansisle is about late afternoon of the same day.))

The pub is now a much more merry place with men laughing with their commrades and waiting for their hosts to arrive. A young woman is placing out dishes of food next to the men.

Bates says something to the bar keep, and leads the two men to a table. They take a seat and the woman places a large platter of sausage in front of Sir Henry and massive bowls of stew before John and the Baron. She returns with a massive loaf of bread on a cutting board, and three dark amber Ale's, for each of them.

A bell is rung by the bartender. And the room quiets down. Bates rises from his chair, a man bellows "Officer on the Deck..." And they all rise.

"Gentlemen, At ease..." starts Bates..."I'm the highest ranking officer? Bill would be, but that wife of his out ranks him. A commander should never argue with his wife or a captain. Unfortunatly she's both..." there is general laughter in the room..."I will start the evening toast with a wish of good luck to our two guests, Sir Henry Wayne and Baron Thunder-ten-tronckh on their adventure. We thank you for this meal, and hope that you find some dimonds. To Commadore Gotha, you did us proud!" there is a revernt 'Aye' heard in the room from a good number there.

"Gentlemen, Long live his Grace!" He raises his glass and a resounding "Long live his Grace!" fills the room. The men continue to stand as a few bow their heads and pray. And then as the last one raises his head, the bell rings again. The men sit down at their meals. Bates looks on for a moment, makes a short bow at the large picture on the wall, and then returns to his seat.

It was a beautiful day out and Calico spent the time at the gas station wandering about by himself in a quite meditation, getting in tune with nature. Several birds flew through the sky overhead, flapping their wings and fluttering down onto a set of trees. In the distance animal cries could be heard, Calico tried to identify what beast it was but to his frustration was unable to.

After a short while all the gas tanks were topped off and the attendant was looking for his money. Casually and without care Calico reached into his sack and pulled out 400 Kr. and says "Keep the change"

Brock kept to himself throughout the short stop at the gas station, only speaking up when they were ready to leave: "Do we stop for lunch or should we drive through it? The best place to camp is going to be a clearing that's about 7 hours from here."

The necessary gear was unpacked and everyone set about to relaxing and eating. The crew of men generally laughed and brushed off Brock's comments about the ATV's and had to be restrained from hopping back on and ridding about the gas station, wasting their precious fuel.

Calico set out to eat with Brock so that they might talk, he was interested in keeping schedual and a general course for the diamonds. But he also wanted to make sure they were at least headed for the Fort on their way to their goal. Frustration grew in his head while contemplating the little side mission he had been given. Usually he had a little bit better intelligence on such matters, and now all he knew was that she was supposedly heading for the Fort herself. He would deffinetly have to work out a better system for tracking Sopfie and wondered if she were travelling alone or with a larger group that might make her easier to track.

Calico considered this and was at first inclinded to want to push ahead. It was early and he felt that they could make good time to their assumed destination. However, the last thing he wanted was to have to stop for lunch in some area that they couldnt really control, namely a thick wood where the local wildlife would have their way with them. "Lets stick it out here for another hour to eat, if we need to we can always stop for a short break further along the treck. I would rather take our longer break someplace where we are less vulnerable."

It was a beautiful day out and Calico spent the time at the gas station wandering about by himself in a quite meditation, getting in tune with nature. Several birds flew through the sky overhead, flapping their wings and fluttering down onto a set of trees. In the distance animal cries could be heard, Calico tried to identify what beast it was but to his frustration was unable to.

After a short while all the gas tanks were topped off and the attendant was looking for his money. Casually and without care Calico reached into his sack and pulled out 400 Kr. and says "Keep the change"

Brock kept to himself throughout the short stop at the gas station, only speaking up when they were ready to leave: "Do we stop for lunch or should we drive through it? The best place to camp is going to be a clearing that's about 7 hours from here."

The necessary gear was unpacked and everyone set about to relaxing and eating. The crew of men generally laughed and brushed off Brock's comments about the ATV's and had to be restrained from hopping back on and ridding about the gas station, wasting their precious fuel.

Calico set out to eat with Brock so that they might talk, he was interested in keeping schedual and a general course for the diamonds. But he also wanted to make sure they were at least headed for the Fort on their way to their goal. Frustration grew in his head while contemplating the little side mission he had been given. Usually he had a little bit better intelligence on such matters, and now all he knew was that she was supposedly heading for the Fort herself. He would deffinetly have to work out a better system for tracking Sopfie and wondered if she were travelling alone or with a larger group that might make her easier to track.

Calico considered this and was at first inclinded to want to push ahead. It was early and he felt that they could make good time to their assumed destination. However, the last thing he wanted was to have to stop for lunch in some area that they couldnt really control, namely a thick wood where the local wildlife would have their way with them. "Lets stick it out here for another hour to eat, if we need to we can always stop for a short break further along the treck. I would rather take our longer break someplace where we are less vulnerable."

The attendent similed at the sudden bonus, and stammered through a thanks....people didn't leave tips much in this part of the March.

Brock took out a small container that looked fairly odd. It was insulated and had a small heat emitting device on the bottom, apparently a stone that seemed to hold heat for a long time. The container opened to reveal two compartments, one had a yellow chowder of some sort that smelled of corn. The upper compartment held a small pasty, he muched on his food quitely, mainly talking to the attendent (Who had wandered over to him), about local rain levels over the past month, animal sightings, and some local crop levels.

He said little to Calico, giving the man the ocassional look. When Calico inquired about the Fort, the man just looked at him, then spoke "If I knew where the dimonds were, you think I'b be taking you there? I'm to get you to Fort Hardtack and then help you, I've got no better clue than you where the dimonds might be hiding."

He seemed uneasy. After eating, Brock got up, and walked over to the stream. He washed out his food container and looked at the jungle for a moment. He returned to his Rover, sat in the front seat and smoked his pipe as he waited for the rest to finally finish.

Each man tried to relax, for they knew that once they got out into the jungle the going would be a lot tougher and there would be fewer breaks such as this. However, they were professionals and knew their job well, most of them spent the time cleaning out their guns, some taking shots at low flying birds. Calico sat away from all this, leaning back on the grass hands behing his head.

Bellamy sat with Goldie and the two had a hushed conversation, at times pointing to their new guide or to Calico. So far Goldie and Calico had kept their distance from each other, they had had runins in the past each of them comming away badly wounded; and the only thing keeping them apart now was Bellamy's insistance and the thought of the diamonds.

After about fourty minutes Calico arose, and looked about at the men who had spread out doing their own things. "Come on, lets mount up and get moving." At first they slowly started making their way back to the trucks to stow up all the gear but then they remembered what was at the end of the line and they hustled onto the hummers and atv's.

Brock casually looked back until they were all on their vehicles, and finally started up his own truck leading them further along the road.

Each man tried to relax, for they knew that once they got out into the jungle the going would be a lot tougher and there would be fewer breaks such as this. However, they were professionals and knew their job well, most of them spent the time cleaning out their guns, some taking shots at low flying birds. Calico sat away from all this, leaning back on the grass hands behing his head.

Bellamy sat with Goldie and the two had a hushed conversation, at times pointing to their new guide or to Calico. So far Goldie and Calico had kept their distance from each other, they had had runins in the past each of them comming away badly wounded; and the only thing keeping them apart now was Bellamy's insistance and the thought of the diamonds.

After about fourty minutes Calico arose, and looked about at the men who had spread out doing their own things. "Come on, lets mount up and get moving." At first they slowly started making their way back to the trucks to stow up all the gear but then they remembered what was at the end of the line and they hustled onto the hummers and atv's.

Brock casually looked back until they were all on their vehicles, and finally started up his own truck leading them further along the road.

Brock drove up the 'road' which was nothing more than a narrow set of tracks running up into the jungle. It was bumby, hard, and seemed designed for mountin goats. The vehicles were not able to make more then ten or twelve miles per hour on the track. The sides of the jungle quickly filled in around them, and the canopy engulfed them. Plunging them into a odd, green twilight. At times they would have a small break of sunlight as they neared the edge of the small creek, or small offset areas that were primitive logging operations. The dense foliage didn't show much, and although cooler than the plains, the humidity had risen dramaticly.

The vehicles hit a very rocky patch, as the trail and stream became one. Brock halted for a moment. Listening to the sounds in the bush. The rover then started moving again, not pausing as they pushed through a deep pool and followed the trail up a steep slope.

About three hours into the trip, the jungle started to become quiter. Brock slowed for a moment, then seemed to push his vehicle to an unsafe speed, angling for an open location near a group of bolders.

He didn't make it, several of the dreaded homosexual monkeys decended on them in a large pack. One hit the roof of the rover, and the others fell in among the humve's and ATV's. They were out for blood.

Brock, kept moving...a hand with a revolver came out of his window and pointed towards the creature on the roof above. It made a leap for the hand, screeaching as it did so...the 0.45 caliber bullet blew the monkey into bloods and guts arcing back into the jungle canopy.

(OOC) Sorry I havn't posted on here, I've been very busy for the last few days.

Three men emerged from the hatch of the tank, all wearing somewhat dirty dark blue uniforms with black leather webbing. In true Dyelli Beybian fashion they were all armed to the tooth, with each carrying an assault rifle of some description, at least one pistol or revolver as well as a machette and multiple packets of cigarettes.
Fletcher pulled his cap on and looked about suspiciously, "And what do you propose we do with the tank while we're inside?"

Everything had been going smoothly. The jungle was rather nice, some erie foliage and rough paths but nothing these men weren't used to. The only major problem was that one of the atv's got a little too off the path and hit a massive hole, pitching its rider over the front and into a mud pack. While looking the machine over they discovered a broken axel and rather than wait hours to fix it they abandon the machine and the rider joined in one of the hummers.

Everything had been going smoothly, Calico kept saying this to himself as the pack of homosexual monkeys appeared from no where to wreak havok on their little band. He saw Brock gun it, putting distance between his vehicle and the hummer; so Calico easily decided to give his vehicle some more gas and mow down the monkey that had unfortunately hopped down in front of them. He immediatly slammed the breaks and readied his two pistols.

The rest of the group had faired more or less the same, each hummer had a few extra passengers on their roof's and those on the atv's were fighting for their lives. One poor son of a gun didnt even know what had happened to them before a monkey desended onto his back driving its fangs deep inside his flesh. He was dead before he could stop his vehicle and it crashed into the rear of the hummer in front of him.

The others had faired a bit better. Most had jumped off of their atv's with relative speed and now had their assault rifles out and firing wildly about with varrying accuracy.

The Palace

Any of your staff with a background in geology is invited also. I've got some test bore survey's to show you. Oku is going to go crazy trying to cook for more than two biggies.

Rick responded, “Okay. We’ll bring anyone who knows something about rocks. Troy and myself will most certainly be there and maybe a couple other guys.”


The small pub

"Hell I didn't know him, second rate freelancer. Don't even know where he's from. As for the Iron B***, Major Sophie Haussecker herself. Although who'd she rub out? She's not someone to take lightly, she's a black tab was the roommate of Elizabeth Crawford in college. Why do you think she's sitting in that office keeping tabs on the situation for Markgravine."

“Ah, sorry Frank. I guess I got mixed up.,"replied Gary, "I thought you said she got rid of the reporter. So the Markgrave is nuts and Major Sophie is not to be trifled with. Gotcha.

But why not break this story about the diamonds? Unless you are, well, worried about what might happen. I mean, I guess if I was a diamond hunter and a reporter said that they weren’t there I would be a little angry too. Or I suppose the Margrave would do something, eh?

Look, I have a proposal. You could write up an exclusive in my paper. I know it’s pretty unconventional but it’s a major story, ya know? What do you say?”

Now that was a weird facet...posted before I was done...hmmm

Hardtack
The officer who was standing next to the rover said. "Leave it for the moment. Not that much traffic on the road this time in the morning anyway. Now which one of you is in charge of this merry band?"

The tank that had been on the other side of the unfinished bridge embankments started to nose itself out on this side. The wirr of the turbine engines quited somewhat as the tank stopped.

****The noise had awoken our intrepid female reporter Dawn Trester who had been sleeping in the church. She pulled herself up from her sleeping bag and looked down at her fellow occupant. She decided not to wake him, and pulled on a pair of pants, a shirt, and some sandles. She and her trusty press badge were on the way to the cross roads to see what was up...

The Jungle with Jiggady

Brock reached the boulders and the clearing next to the road, the rover stopped and he jumped out of the passanger side onto the nearest rock. He extended the legs of his squad support gun, and started to pick off monkeys from the roofs of the Humvee's and any others on the ground who were not dead.
The combination of rapid fire and the built in scope was fairly deadly to the fanged horde. The 6.5mm rounds proved to be fatal in a single shot compared to lighter rounds.

He continued to fire into the jungle canopy on the other side of the caravan where the primates had appeared from. Howling could be heard, but then became more distant and faint. Brock reloaded his gun with another circular clip and waited for the group to gather itself back up.

((OOC: I'm letting you have free reign with the guys on Dock 5 Vrak, but the dock has guards at the moment who might notice the removal of any items.))
The Palace
She smiled, and said "Fine, eight it is" The men were then escorted back out to the truck and taken to the Hydra Mining offices downtown.

The bar
"What scoop? The fact that Markgravine is crazy? Hell, who are you going to even state that off the record. It's rumor, I don't have any sorces inside the local administration. Hell just because the Military Attache hasn't blabed to any of us about how much their worth? It's the duty of the local Baron to protect citizen's property rights. So her showing anything of Anted's is just
'Protecting the privacy of a Klatchian citizen who has not broken any crime, only being a victim. We do not penalize victims by showing their personal property, it is not evidence. It has no bearing on any criminal case. Nor have any charges been made against Mr. Anted. Any further speculation by this office on where he found the dimonds or any other matter then him surviving, is immaterial '" He pushes out his chest and acts as if he is a pompus twit, then relaxes back into his third drink. "Or that's what the Iron B*** said to that reporter from Newsday I did some editing for her, they cut that part when they went to press yesterday. Didn't even give me an assist by line, b****s". He shakes his head.

"So what angle have you got, and what sources do you have?.... cause I aint going to get sued over libal charges." He orders his fourth drink.

It quickly became clear that he needed to take charge of the situation, Brock was handling himself well and in aiding with the monkeys on their hummers. In one quick motion Calico flipped open his door and rolled out onto the ground both pistols pointing in the air seeking targets. In moments he found them and started ringing lead throughout the trees, not waiting to see what he hit rather constantly looking for new targets.

The men laced fire through the jungle brush with their assault rifles, mostly to the effect of scaring off more of the monkeys and keeping them from attacking. One unfortunate was stradeling his atv, using his rifle more effectively at popping monkeys in the head; he wasnt able to see the one jumping down from above. The homosexual monkey dug its claws deep into his shoulders, tearing tissue, cutting cartialege, and breaking bone. Lucky for him one of his compatriates saw the scene out of the corner of his eye and dropped his spent rifle and pulled up the pistol he had at his side. Two quick taps and the monkey fell to the earth dead, the man that it was attacking lying on the ground next to it screams of pain echoing out of his mouth and pools of blood streaming from his wounds.

The chaos didnt last much longer than that, the surviving monkeys decided that the men werent worth the fight, at least not yet. Eventually the gunfire died out as the rest of the men realized the threat was over, and they went about seeing to the damage. They were now down to two atv's with one dead rider and another wounded and needing to be transported in a hummer. The trucks were spared with damage as were those that were ridding in them. Once everything was settled to, they reconviened with Brock to get back on their way, most of them rather unsettled from the sudden attack and realization of the dangers of the jungle.

OOC: Am going to be out for a few days on a weekend vacation...will be back around monday

OOC: No prob jiggady you are now the farthest ahead in terms of game time anyway.

Brock looked at the wounded man. "Unless you get him back to a hosptial soon, I'm afraid he's done for." He also pulled a rolled up black bag out of his truck. "Get the dead man in here, we need to bury him tonight."

After lashing the body to the top of one of the humvee's they started moving again. Driving along what seemed barley wide enough for most vehicles to cross, the humvees, being fairly wide, left broken branches and brush in the path as they pased.

After another 4 hours driving, they arrived in a open clearing, with a group of trees located near the center. Brock drove towards the tree's and parked next to them. It was almost night, "Alright set up your tents inside the circle here. There is a fire pit at the center. And you'll need three men on guard duty at all times, I suggest three hour watches.

He looked at them for a moment, and then said. "I need two of you to come with me to dig a grave and a cat hole."

******
In an Oompa Village
east of Harristown (North Oompa Land)

The small men in ceremonial dress sat around a large fire. They wore cloaks of local fur, with painted designs...and odd hats that looked like the top of bowling pins. Many had not spoken in over an hour. At one point the circle was broken. A small area left opened, occupied by a human woman wearing the formal uniform of the Alconian Marines. Her eyes were lit by fire, the deep blue almost had a glow of their own. It was why the tribes called her Oca-motu-seba killer woman of blue.

Finally one of the rose and began to speak in a high picted sing song voice..."Oompa Opmu Epru..."
[translation]
Leaders of the Voma, I speak to you as a peer. What the killer woman says is true. Long have we suffered under the boots of the Horn. Since the destruction of the city of Oompa, and the last great Oompa Loompa Domp Doo stood on the stool of glory."

"Now, a Horn has risen in the land of slavery, the land of the East. He claims to lead us to salvation. But, have we not already found it? The warriors of the kill blue family came here, they killed the Horn, banished them as far and as fast as they could. They have been fair in trade, and they have been fair to our blood who have lived in the big big towns.

So, now we must decide. Do we surrender ourselves to a new Oompa Loompa Domp Doo, the Grace...do we surrender the common land to him? Shall we drink? I say yes..."
The Loop waddles over to a bowl filled with wine...takes a small cup and fills it. He then holds it towards the woman, says a prayer, and drinks.
thirtheen more follow suit, as they do so they stand behind the woman. Looking at those who have not.
Five of the men in ceremonial garments have risen but not stepped up to drink. They say nothing, just look at her.

Elizabeth Crawford finially speaks "Go in peace" With that, they turn and start to walk down into the village below.

A few minutes later, on the edge of mound that marks the cerimonial area. The group of fourteen clan cheifs and Elizabeth Crawford, Markgravine of Bost. She looks over the large numbers of Oompa Loompa below and pronouces. "These fourteen tribes have agreed to join us. To become vassels of the Grand Duchy, to give The Duke their duty, as so his Grace shall give his to them. So it has been agreed, so it been signed. This morning we were two groups, with waryness in our steps...As the moon rises it shines upon one group, joined to bring peace and prosperity to all...

OOC: at the moment things seem to be degenerating around the collapse of Kandi which we haven't really started to rp in this thread yet.

Hardtack
Fletcher pointed at himself, "I'm in charge." he announced, aware that there were no real distinguishing marks of rank on his uniform, he puased, looking a little uncertain, "OK, we'll go with you, but if anything goes missing from in there..." he trailed off, "Anyway, we'll go with you."

News Transmition from KTV Station in Cyro
...And this just in, the Dyelli Beybian 3rd Armoured Division, supposedly on manouvres with Benjian troops has crossed into Karndi. We are bringing you pictures live.

Pictures of long columns of Russian tanks as well as a few Dyelli Beybian or Benjian designed vehicles.

As of yet we have not been able to bring you an interview from the Ministry of Defence, but they have issued a statement, it reads like this
"The recent breakdown into anarchy in Karndi is unfortunate and indeed perilous for those people inhabiting the region. Those few Dyelli Beybians deployed in the area are there on a peacekeeping mission to help restore order in the region."

OOC: You folks got room for one more?

OOC: You folks got room for one more?
OOC: I said yes earlier didn't I???

Hardtack

Fletcher pointed at himself, "I'm in charge." he announced, aware that there were no real distinguishing marks of rank on his uniform, he puased, looking a little uncertain, "OK, we'll go with you, but if anything goes missing from in there..." he trailed off, "Anyway, we'll go with you."

The Alconian officer just stared up at the sky for a moment. "I just have room for the lead officer, the rest can say here and guard your....equipment...while you meet with the commandant....please take the front passanger seat, and leave your assult rifle...your not going to need it." he pointed at Fletcher as he said this.


OOC: I'm toying with throwing this whole Kandi thing into a new coupled thread.

OOC: Sorry, I lost my other posting.

IC: A shadowy form watches the conversation from the upper branches of a large tree.

OOC: Sorry, I lost my other posting.

IC: A shadowy form watches the conversation from the upper branches of a large tree.

W.A.? Which conversation? where? I'm not trying to nick pick and perhaps I should make a note of where people are in terms of time.
{and if D.B. sub-thread he will not post until late this evening since he's in England RL)

1st Day (the day of landing, Cross Harbor)
Vrak--has a team on Dock 5, talking up a local reporter in a bar, in negotations with a semi-corrupt government offical

Iansisle has a mess on the "old Dock", and negotiating passage with a riverboat captain, also is trying to rob a bar (owned by a milita captain...)

Walmington on the Sea --located in the outer islands, enjoying a meal and getting passage to Cross Harbor

2nd Day
Jiggady---Located in jungles to the south, at the end of the day. Has both wounded and dead from the local residents

D.B.--early second day, tank in Fort Hardtack

F.B.--early second day, crossing southern bounds of the Oompa Land, and a pirate ship entering the Cross Harbor estuary

(ooc: More delays from me. It'll just have to be recognised that Walmingtonians do things at a painfully slow pace, as rushing is seen as generally quite crude in WoS :) )

The Walmingtonian pair regarded the ample portions served them with some considerable relish. Sir Henry was generally to be considered a man of pleasure, and certainly counted meat a fine pleasure, while Thunder-ten-tronckh, a much more slight figure, was simply famished after so long on the little Intrepid with only biscuits to sate his appetite.

Some polite smiling and nodding during the speech with its toasts and jokes was offered, mainly by the Baron, while Sir Henry tried to decide which sausage was first for the fork.

"A fine meal, best I've had all week." Thunder-ten-tronckh commented, "Don't you agree, Sir Henry?"

Wayne grunted in approval, nodding even as his slipped another slice of sausage under his moustache, before muttering something positive about the ale.

The Baron attempted to engage him in some conversation about the next stage of the expedition as it related to their finances, but it was a difficult subject to approach in polite conversation. Probably all would be well, even if worst came to worse and they missed the rush, Sir Henry could probably buy a cart-load of diamonds anyway. It was just that the Baron wasn't sure how much of the financial responsibility of the trip, or at least this stop-over, was to be his.

"I just hope we don't delay too long here and miss the best of the haul, Sir Henry.." He laughed, half fearing that Wayne could get too comfortable here and end up applying for a longer visa.

OOC: I was referring to the one at the top of the page.

OOC: Ah the Jiggady sub-thread....
Fine, we are trying to camp in a set of trees. So that works...only problem is that Jiggady will not be around till monday.

IC: Bates was enjoying his stew, and paying attention to the two men's relish of the local cuisine. Of course he had been waiting for the envitable "what is in this" which tended to cause problems.

(These people are scottish and Bavarian, so good beer, but remember the scots invented haggis!!!)

OOC: Fine with me, I have a few RP's to occupy me until then.

In the northern Oompa Loompa villages. Some of the young men and woman began to leave. Headed for the town of Ompa Loo. Their tribal cheifs had jointed the western invaders. And now they would begin to train.

**************
Evening Radio Broadcast From Hardtack...of the first day

Good Evening, this is Dawn Trester with Newsday reporting to the world of the events in Fort Hardtack and the surrounding region. At present, a few dimonds have been found in a gravel bed south of the river. However, they pale in comparison to the described riches that await those who can find the blessed dimond pipe somewhere in the jungle. Also four more people were killed today, when they attepted to kill a large croc in the eastern river this afternoon. The croc managed to sink the boat, and drown the crew. He was then killed by a well placed motar round fired by a second craft. The two crews were investigating reports of dimonds in a small creek. This was found to be false, being only quartz crystals.

(OOC: A bump a bump...)

(I'd just like to apologize for not being about much this weekend. It's been fairly hectic, and I haven't had the time to type out a proper response. With luck, I'll have a good reply tonight/tommorow. Sorry again!)

OOC: Apologies for my second absence from this thread. Real life really needs to learn to not interfere with NS.
River Kola, deep within the Oompa loompa region, 2:18PM Local/17:18GMT
Captain Harvey was again at the wheel of the Jumbuck, having successfully guided the ship without detection through the Alconian territory. Larkin was below deck, nursing a feverish wound from where a flying cat had slashed his shoulder. The whole crew were nervous in this overhanging jungle, which provided little or no warning as to what could be around the next bend. The crocodiles in these waters hadn't even learned not to eat boats yet! There had already been far too many encounters with wild animals, and the men were not looking foward to the expected landing this afternoon, whereupon they would set out through the jungle on foot, trusting to the Captains map and their own wits to keep them from their doom.

What was once Karndi, 3:31PM Local/17:31GMT
The Barons party was making its slow and leisurely way through the cane plantations of this lush and fertile land, stopping along the way to hire out of luck adventurers to drive comandeered trucks of loot back into Fasta Benj. After all reasoned Lord Richard, Anyone finding diamonds would radio out to their backers, and the helicopter coukld get there in a few minutes. (ooc note: AH1 in stock form is just subsonic)
Then He could take the diamonds without the bother of digging them up, and why let the Karndians Kronors go to waste, turned into medallions by these pestersome Oompa Loompas.

Suds trading Store, 2:38PM Local/17:38GMT
Albert mcDonald burst through the door of the store, throwing a small piece of yellow lizard on the desk excitedly.
Steve Sud, manager, owner, and one of only two residents at the remote post sighed and walked over to Albert. "I told you to go find some meat for our dinner,Albie, not go and shoot a lizard and leave the rifle in the bush. How are we going to eat this?"
" 'snot fer eatin sir! Sir, You just got to look at this beastie!"
Steve sighed more deeply. When Albie got in these moods It was best just to humour him. he bent over the "lizard" and was surprised to find that it was in fact a salamander, and had been chewed rather than shot. behind him Albie had begun happily drawing with the crayons, put there for his benefit as much as for the Oompas.
"Where did you find this?" Steve gently inquired "and why should I be interested in it?"
"This is why!" said Albert turning the paper around so Steve could see the picture. It showed a very childlike drawing of a golden salamander with a long neck and bright pink triangular crests on the side of its head, dangling from some kind of monkeys mouth. You could only tell it was a monkey due to the word "Mun>|ee" written clumsily above it.
Steve burst out laughing. "What in gods holy name have you been drinking? a 'pTang 'pTang! as if!"
Albert proved immune to logic though, so at 5:30, after checking albie hadn't got at the mushrooms, Steve got out the writing paper and sent out flossie, one of the three pigeons with the following message:

Suds Station: 2:30 today - unconfirmed sighting of animal that may be a ptang ptang. send aid. animal tastes kind of like chicken...

Dock 5

((OOC: I'm letting you have free reign with the guys on Dock 5 Vrak, but the dock has guards at the moment who might notice the removal of any items.))

Mark managed to locate the containers and, after taking out his cellphone without appearing too obvious, dialed Peter on a secure line.
“Peter. Mark. Found it.”
“Good. Where?”
“Deep. The opposite end where you are.”
Peter swore.
“Dammit. We’ll try to do this as quickly as possible. Didn’t think we would be unloading the whole damn shipment. I’ll tell Kelly.”
“Okay.”

At the Hydra Offices

After bunking down and unloading all their equipment, the rest of the Hydra crew kept to the dorms. Although they wanted to go out, the “situation here is a bit crazy” admonished Rick.

Leaving the men, Rick walked with Troy and two other geologists down to the main office and looked at a map of the area. They began studying various maps, of which there were precious little along with any satellite images – trying to make their best guess as to where the diamonds could be. As well, they searched around for some decent clothes for the upcoming dinner.

The bar

"So what angle have you got, and what sources do you have?.... cause I aint going to get sued over libal charges." He orders his fourth drink.

Gary, coolly sipping his drink but ordering a beer said, “Well, to be honest Frank, I was just sent out here to find out if this whole diamond rush is what it’s all cracked up to be. I wasn’t asking you to stick your neck out for me or anything, but I was basically wondering what the word on the street was. I mean, “gesturing vaguely, “there’s a whole bunch of people riding out into Oompa Loompa land and who knows what awaits them. I’m kind of thinking of going out to Fort Hardtack myself to keep covering the story but from what you said, I wonder if it wouldn’t be more interesting to cover that. But I don’t want to cross the Markgravine or the Iron B***. Really, the only sources I have is just me. I mean, I’m a freelancer for the Dyelli Beybi News. My paper wanted to see if this is worth printing at all. I noticed that there aren’t any papers here except for the Gazette. Suppose I could write up something in there? My paper wouldn’t mind as long as I say who I am. Hey, let me get that last round.”

Room 4B

Meanwhile, Frank had been monitoring the latest transmissions from Fasta Benj and Dyelli Beybi (re: troop movements) and swore. Quickly, he tapped out another message.

OOC: Apologies for my second absence from this thread. Real life really needs to learn to not interfere with NS.
River Kola, deep within the Oompa loompa region, 2:18PM Local/17:18GMT
Captain Harvey was again at the wheel of the Jumbuck, having successfully guided the ship without detection through the Alconian territory. Larkin was below deck, nursing a feverish wound from where a flying cat had slashed his shoulder. The whole crew were nervous in this overhanging jungle, which provided little or no warning as to what could be around the next bend. The crocodiles in these waters hadn't even learned not to eat boats yet! There had already been far too many encounters with wild animals, and the men were not looking foward to the expected landing this afternoon, whereupon they would set out through the jungle on foot, trusting to the Captains map and their own wits to keep them from their doom.

What was once Karndi, 3:31PM Local/17:31GMT
The Barons party was making its slow and leisurely way through the cane plantations of this lush and fertile land, stopping along the way to hire out of luck adventurers to drive comandeered trucks of loot back into Fasta Benj. After all reasoned Lord Richard, Anyone finding diamonds would radio out to their backers, and the helicopter coukld get there in a few minutes. (ooc note: AH1 in stock form is just subsonic)
Then He could take the diamonds without the bother of digging them up, and why let the Karndians Kronors go to waste, turned into medallions by these pestersome Oompa Loompas.

Suds trading Store, 2:38PM Local/17:38GMT
Albert mcDonald burst through the door of the store, throwing a small piece of yellow lizard on the desk excitedly.
Steve Sud, manager, owner, and one of only two residents at the remote post sighed and walked over to Albert. "I told you to go find some meat for our dinner,Albie, not go and shoot a lizard and leave the rifle in the bush. How are we going to eat this?"
" 'snot fer eatin sir! Sir, You just got to look at this beastie!"
Steve sighed more deeply. When Albie got in these moods It was best just to humour him. he bent over the "lizard" and was surprised to find that it was in fact a salamander, and had been chewed rather than shot. behind him Albie had begun happily drawing with the crayons, put there for his benefit as much as for the Oompas.
"Where did you find this?" Steve gently inquired "and why should I be interested in it?"
"This is why!" said Albert turning the paper around so Steve could see the picture. It showed a very childlike drawing of a golden salamander with a long neck and bright pink triangular crests on the side of its head, dangling from some kind of monkeys mouth. You could only tell it was a monkey due to the word "Mun>|ee" written clumsily above it.
Steve burst out laughing. "What in gods holy name have you been drinking? a 'pTang 'pTang! as if!"
Albert proved immune to logic though, so at 5:30, after checking albie hadn't got at the mushrooms, Steve got out the writing paper and sent out flossie, one of the three pigeons with the following message:

Suds Station: 2:30 today - unconfirmed sighting of animal that may be a ptang ptang. send aid. animal tastes kind of like chicken...

OOC: Fasta....sorry but I don't think your boat just sailing up the Kola is going to happen. :roll: I do have a navy there!!!! And I rped that I detected you....
please correct upper portion of post.

The Bar
"The Gazette is a local paper, I'm surprized your not hunkered down at the Asp with most of the other international reporters. Hell, I don't care...I'm just do obits and the shiping arrivals. Nothing big...as for Ft. Hardtack, most of you mucky mucks don't want to head out to some god forsaken post...as for crossing the Markgravine...how in the hell is anything your gona write piss of a Crawford...call her dirty names?
I got to get home..." He then rises. Wobbling from too much drink he starts for the door.

The Bar
Gary rises as well and, not having consumed nearly as much as Frank, offers to steady his drunken pal.

“Hey there, Frank, thanks for the tip about the Asp. Say, you going to make it?” he said in a voice approximating concern.

The Palace

Rick and Troy, along with two other geologist Mike and Tim, roll up to the palace.

“So this is the place, huh Rick?” exclaimed Tim.
“Yup. Like I said, we’re going to look at some core samples. That is, we should be able to determine whether they are primary or secondary sources.”
“Yeah, that sure would help on where to concentrate our search. But it seems to be primary you know?”
“Well, that would mean the pipe is already found. The flared top of the pipes could bring in a lot of diamonds.”
“Could be. If it’s secondary, then for all we know these diamonds could’ve been washed down a river and then we would have to search for the pipe.”
“Sure, but…wait…here’s our host.”

Dock 5

Peter and Mark worked quickly, trying to move towards their own containers without raising too much suspicion. That is, they were unloading cargo that made a path much more direct to their containers.

At the Cross Harbour airport

Some more Vrakian agents disembark.

Damned server hangups!

Fletcher tossed the AK to Yates, who grabbed it, clumsily out of the air, "Lead on." he spoke to the Alconian.

Meanwhile in Karndi...
Dyelli Beybian tanks rolled into the town on the East shore of lake Soda (OOC: can't read it's name on the map) at the same time as an Airbourne Regiment parachuting in. After a brief and one sided battle with local Oompa Loompa militia groups resulting in the loss of no vehicles, 42 wounded and 5 dead paratroopers, the town was declared 'free'. 28 Militia were killed and a further 214 taken prisoner. Civilian losses were estimated in the thousands, although not released, due mainly to the tactic of blowing up buildings where the militia were suspected of hiding. The events were witnessed by members of the press who had somehow managed to tag along with the army (as the press invariably do). Even now they were busily draughting up brilliant headlines...

The Bar
Frank just mumbled a 'good night' and walked out the door, He only crossed the street to another building and entered the side door to the seccond floor walk up.

Sophie's House
It would be called a palace by the Oompa Loompa, and perhaps only them. It was a white house, one story in height, and a raised basement. It was approximatly 45 feet wide, with a deep porch running across the front. At the top of the stairs stood Sophie Haussecker in what appeared to be nothing more than a simple light blue dress. Of course, she was one of those women who could still make a man drool even if she had been wearing sweats.
"Good evening, Gentlemen...welcome to my home." In the shadows could be seen a military guard. From behind sophie appeared a set of yellow pigtails attached to two bright, blue set of eyes. She looked down and pushed forword the child. The little girl couldn't have been more than five. "This is my neice, Regan....say hello to the gentlemen from Vrak...No, alright you can go see what Os is up to in the kitchen...."

She leds them into the reception hall. It opens on to a court yard with the doors to various rooms off of it. On each side of the hall are large rooms seperated by sliding doors. One is obviously the living room, the other appears to be a library. In the center of the library is a large, heavy table that is covered in books, maps and large reddish rocks.

"This is the managing office of Wolverine Mining at the moment....I'll show you what I absolutely know about the geology of the region. But do you recognize this?"

She tosses one of the redish rocks that appears to be almost crystals towards the lead man.

Ft. Hardtack
The Alconian shows the man the front passanger seat, and gets in behind him. The rover pulls back up out of the gully, and down the main drag of the town. Several small wooden buildings line one side of the street. The largest is a structure with the words Anne's painted on the side. It is a massive three story structure that seems out of place in this wilderness. On the hill rising behind the buildings are small shacks cut into the greenery of the jungle.

On the other side of the road is a feild. And beyound the feild can be seen a large low mound with concrete bunkers in the side. The car reaches a road heading out for the mound and comes to a series of barbwire fences.
The vehicle continues to the mound, crosses through a second gate between two large bunkers that appear to have large bore guns of some type peaking out. Inside of the wall are several concrete structues. To the east are two long buildings of two stories that appear to be barracks while to west is a smaller structure that appears to be the administration block.

The Delybian is led into the adminstration building, past a secretary and into a confrence room. It has painted concrete walls, small windows and a massive faux wood table at the center. At the center of the table is a large basket of nut covered doughnuts and a pitcher of some type of juice. At the far end are two guards standing behind a small man who is seated.

He rises as Fletcher enters. "Ah we have the leader of our tank squad. Williams...will you kindly inform HQ about the squirl matter..." He said this as he turned to one of the guards. The guard gave a salute and then exited the building...

Morning, the Privy Chamber of Athorpe Palace
The group sat looking at the two men at opposite ends of the room. One sat in the darkness of shadow near the doors. The other looked out the window at the dawning morning. The sun just cresting over the horizon. The man at the window spoke, "Enough, we will not let this get further out of hand...I have ordered the troop movement, and the replacement of the Markgrave. This body has agreed. If you continue to fustrate our attempts, I will call for an election."

The afternoon, Harristown military zone

The led elements of the 2nd Heavy Armor division began to move onto the costal highway running south. In the lead vehicle was General Omar Throught, he had spent five years training his men and woman in the northern jungles. Now he was going to ensure the security of the southern Marches.

Furger{?)
The Narv-X peace keepers had moved out only hours before.

And the various "worker groups" moved in. They shot and killed hundreads of the big ones in the streets, gutted them infront of their children. The grey leaders amoung them stood with Ak-47s, directing the carnage. They took the fair haired girls and had them loaded onto canoes; sent west into the dark forbidding jungle. The city on the north side of the river was burned to the ground. Building were looted, then destroyed as massive piles of brick and stone were piled up on the south side and buildings filled with recoiless guns, RPGs and Oompa Loompa. At three that morning, the groups destroyed all but two bridges that crossed the Kola. They waited to spring their trap...to kill the big ones from the east as they had these fair haired masters who ruled over them.

OOC:
It appears this tread is dying...
but I will bump anyway

OOC: Nooo...I just forgot to post today Alcona. Plus, I'm looking up diamonds on the 'Net.

Brock looked at the wounded man. "Unless you get him back to a hosptial soon, I'm afraid he's done for." He also pulled a rolled up black bag out of his truck. "Get the dead man in here, we need to bury him tonight."

After lashing the body to the top of one of the humvee's they started moving again. Driving along what seemed barley wide enough for most vehicles to cross, the humvees, being fairly wide, left broken branches and brush in the path as they pased.

After another 4 hours driving, they arrived in a open clearing, with a group of trees located near the center. Brock drove towards the tree's and parked next to them. It was almost night, "Alright set up your tents inside the circle here. There is a fire pit at the center. And you'll need three men on guard duty at all times, I suggest three hour watches.

He looked at them for a moment, and then said. "I need two of you to come with me to dig a grave and a cat hole."

They all sat about the campsight in a rather disolusioned state. They had known that this trip would be dangerous however, they werent exactly prepared to the ferocity of the jungles. Some sat in silence staring into the fire as it crackled and released smoke into the air, their thoughts resting on their fallen comrades. Others huddled together in small groups, whispers of conversation rising up over the crackling of the fire, Calico kept his distance but could still get the general jist of what they were saying. It was clear that they were not too happy with their new guide, whether they blamed it on his abilities or superstitons about luck.

Calico shifted his eyes to their trucks where the wounded man lie in a comotose state from the drugs they had given him. His screams would have only attracted more predators so they took the chances of putting him under. Now the question was what to do with him, several of his closer friends in the group vehemently argued for going back to the city instead of pushing on. Some thought that they could still make the fort, but the guide was quite adement about the pressing situation. Finally after eating their meager dinner a couple grudgingly got up and walked off with Brock to burry their dead friends.

Fletcher stgood to attention (as he'd been taught), "First Lieutenant Fletcher of the Imperial Garrison....of...of...Oyster." he announced, naming the small village they were garrisoned in after the first thing that came into his head.
Realising it probably wouldn't make him look any more intelligent he pushed on, hoping that somehow, by babling inanely the officer he was speaking to would forget that he'd just claimed his garrison's village shared a name with a mollusc, "It's only one tank Sir, and we're on a diplomatic mission, of sorts Sir, orders from the HQ Sir that we get in contact with someone from Alcona and Hubris, preferably the one in charge Sir...Sir."

(OOC) Would have posted yesterday but I had some real issues with the computer.

Outside the bar

Gary watched Frank go and then turned down the street. He ducked into a nearby alley and, after securing the line, quickly but clearly informed Frank Reese of the events. Frank Reese swore and replied,

“Well, we can’t be too sure. This whole damn town is full of rumour and gossip. But maybe that will help us out. This is what I want you to do…”

After a few more minutes, Gary closed the phone and headed down to the Asp bar.

At Sophie’s place

Rick caught the rock and, with a trained eye examined the sample. He then handed it over to Troy and turned his head to Sophie.

“Well, it could be tungsten or silver embedded in there. Do you have a UV light I can borrow? Where did you find this exactly? In a riverbed?”

Outside the Cross Harbour Airport

A small contingent of Vrakians carrying baggage hailed a couple of taxis.

“Hydra Group. The one on 45 Marble Avenue.”

Dock 5

Peter, Kelly and Mark were making progress unloading the containers. So far, no one seemed to notice why exactly the three were focusing more at the back of the ship.


OOC: The Imperial Garrison of Oyster? LOL DB! Strike fear into the hearts of the enemy!

Campsite I

They all sat about the campsight in a rather disolusioned state. They had known that this trip would be dangerous however, they werent exactly prepared to the ferocity of the jungles. Some sat in silence staring into the fire as it crackled and released smoke into the air, their thoughts resting on their fallen comrades. Others huddled together in small groups, whispers of conversation rising up over the crackling of the fire, Calico kept his distance but could still get the general jist of what they were saying. It was clear that they were not too happy with their new guide, whether they blamed it on his abilities or superstitons about luck.

Calico shifted his eyes to their trucks where the wounded man lie in a comotose state from the drugs they had given him. His screams would have only attracted more predators so they took the chances of putting him under. Now the question was what to do with him, several of his closer friends in the group vehemently argued for going back to the city instead of pushing on. Some thought that they could still make the fort, but the guide was quite adement about the pressing situation. Finally after eating their meager dinner a couple grudgingly got up and walked off with Brock to burry their dead friends.

The group started diggin the whole at the edge of the clearing, using a propane latern to light their work. After a few minutes, Brock stopped digging and picked up his gun. "Just keep working," He held is squad support gun and replaced the scope. He stood listening for a moment, and then fired a shot into the darkness beyound. A yelp of some large creature could be heard. Then only the jungle sounds returned. A few minutes later, Brock fired his gun into a patch of nearby grass. A growl started then moved off.
He looked at his work crew. "It smells the blood, get him in the ground and we can pull back to the grove." The situation continued, with Brock firing an occasional round to keep whatever creature was in the darkness there.

From across the trail and towards the vehicles another large cat creature approached smelling the blood of the wounded man.

The Asp
The plastic tables seemed filled with men and women who were both disgruntled and tired. They hadn't exactly seen much in the way of news from anyone recently. The man of the hour was still in a coma, and most of the reporters spent their time cooling their heels in the formal media room of the Govenor's Palace, the waiting room of the Cross Harbor General Hospital, or drinking their wories away here. As in most situations men and women were looking for some comfort or fun depending on their psycological profiles.

Sophie's
She smiled, "It's tungstun, about 23% metal actually. And that is a sample from Wolverine Mine Shaft 2. Shaft 1 is the same. The mineral is in an aglomerate formed by baslaltic flows from rifts in the crust. They form a series of hills along the northern side of the river. Which explains the large black cliffs along the north shore of the river. I located the tungsun from river deposits in a creek that cuts across the hills north south into the river. As you can see on this preliminary survey map, the north side of the river, and about 60 miles into the jungle are primarily made up of these volcanic flows made from 6 million to 2 million years ago."
(OOC: Well let's see what your research says to this information)

The Airport
The taxi proved to actually be picking someone else up. His gruff reply was actually swear words, nothing the Vrakians understood. Manx tended to be a bit confusing at times.

The airport was all but deserted except by gray clad militamen who didn't seem very intrested in doing much more than patroling the airfeild. The sound of jets lifting off could be heard on the runway. But appeared to be military aircraft from the airbase on the other side of the runway. No new taxi's appeared. And the parking lot was fairly deserted with only a small vehicle of indeterinate orgins covered in rust waiting for either a tow or an owner. The lobby of the Airport (being that the terminal consisted of a small lobby, an enclosed corner for screening. And a single ticket counter was lit, but empty. Customs had a second building nearby that appeared to be locked down and dark. The Customs offical that had processed them had left just as they hailed the taxi.

(OOC: This is modled after the Alpena International Airport)

Dock 5
And no one really cared. Trucks and owners had showed up over time and the place seemed to have become a late night congress of Alconian merchants and factory owners who were waiting for their containers to be unloaded. They tended to say by the manager's office, but a few wandered around. Talking to guards and making jokes.

In the jungle, the mighty Jungle....the dimonds sleep tight...
(A service of International Bumpage...we sell the things that go bump in the night)

(ooc:I seem to be more distracted of late than I anticipated.. Apparently I haven't time to keep up with all the threads I'd like :( This is quite a fun one, all in all, but less crucial to the state of my nation as a whole, so I think it will have to be one of the more serious ones to get the chop on my part. Maybe I will make a few posts here and there with the Walmy pair wandering about lost, if I find I have more time than expected. Just letting you know that I don't really intend them to get anywhere or influence anything. Hopefully I will keep some kind of track of what's going on though. Nice thread, and I want to see how it turns out! (I have such a headache! Damn you, Guinness!))

The Asp

The plastic tables seemed filled with men and women who were both disgruntled and tired. They hadn't exactly seen much in the way of news from anyone recently. The man of the hour was still in a coma, and most of the reporters spent their time cooling their heels in the formal media room of the Govenor's Palace, the waiting room of the Cross Harbor General Hospital, or drinking their wories away here. As in most situations men and women were looking for some comfort or fun depending on their psycological profiles.

Gary looked around and, after a quick survey, sidled up to the bar and ordered a drink. He planned to try and talk to someone who wasn’t too drunk (since they could become violent) and yet someone with loose lips. He didn’t want to approach any tables with groups in them yet since they might view a stranger with suspicion. But he figured since this was an international reporter’s bar people may be more tolerable to outsiders. He smiled as soon as anyone came near and wanted to chat.


Sophie's

She smiled, "It's tungstun, about 23% metal actually. And that is a sample from Wolverine Mine Shaft 2. Shaft 1 is the same. The mineral is in an aglomerate formed by baslaltic flows from rifts in the crust. They form a series of hills along the northern side of the river. Which explains the large black cliffs along the north shore of the river. I located the tungsun from river deposits in a creek that cuts across the hills north south into the river. As you can see on this preliminary survey map, the north side of the river, and about 60 miles into the jungle are primarily made up of these volcanic flows made from 6 million to 2 million years ago."
(OOC: Well let's see what your research says to this information)

[OOC: Ah…could be research from my end or could be BS. Watch me talk through my hat.]

“Hmmm,” said Rick, “then that suggests that this region most likely was underwater, perhaps up to the hills. The hills themselves certainly might have been some ancient volcanoes. The presence of tungsten in the agglomerate definitely confirms it. I don’t suppose you have any xenoliths around?

But I’m curious about something. You say you found this sample in a river deposit so I actually wonder if you found the pipe. Not that it would really matter since a sufficient concentration of diamonds will justify any sort of mining operations. The hills though would require a closer look. Do you have any shafts at all in the hills? This whole area has the potential for a bunch of diamonds actually.”

Rick suddenly halted at the utterance of the last sentence, realizing the implications.


The Airport

The taxi proved to actually be picking someone else up. His gruff reply was actually swear words, nothing the Vrakians understood. Manx tended to be a bit confusing at times.

The airport was all but deserted except by gray clad militamen who didn't seem very intrested in doing much more than patroling the airfeild. The sound of jets lifting off could be heard on the runway. But appeared to be military aircraft from the airbase on the other side of the runway. No new taxi's appeared. And the parking lot was fairly deserted with only a small vehicle of indeterinate orgins covered in rust waiting for either a tow or an owner. The lobby of the Airport (being that the terminal consisted of a small lobby, an enclosed corner for screening. And a single ticket counter was lit, but empty. Customs had a second building nearby that appeared to be locked down and dark. The Customs offical that had processed them had left just as they hailed the taxi.

(OOC: This is modled after the Alpena International Airport)

The Vrakians, noting the increased military activity and not wishing to be stranded, got into the cab and headed towards the Hydra Group offices. Upon arrival and tipping the driver generously, they went to the public staircase that serviced the small office building. That is, each floor gave access to each business on each floor and the Vrakians made their way to the fourth floor. The door was locked and had a scruffy sign that said “Restricted. Keep out”. On of the Vrakians smiled and produced a key. They then filed in and looked around, making sure no uninvited guests were present. Some crates and boxes were piled up on one side. Careful not to turn on the lights and to move quietly, the team unloaded their luggage. One went to the door and began setting up a small, inconspicuous, surveillance camera to watch the stairway. Another went to the roof and located the satellite dish.

“Home sweet home,” mumbled one.
“Indeed,” said another.

[OOC: Couldn’t find pictures of the airport on the city website. The city looks very nice though. I assume the international airport is different than the regional one?]

Dock 5

And no one really cared. Trucks and owners had showed up over time and the place seemed to have become a late night congress of Alconian merchants and factory owners who were waiting for their containers to be unloaded. They tended to say by the manager's office, but a few wandered around. Talking to guards and making jokes.

Peter and Mark were making swifter progress. Finally they reached their containers. Kelly positioned the crane and began to lift out the Hydra Group containers.

At the secretary’s house

“Ooooh Joe! You are sooo hot!,” moaned the secretary.
Joe smiled and thought. The sacrifices I make for the Kingdom!

(ooc:I seem to be more distracted of late than I anticipated.. Apparently I haven't time to keep up with all the threads I'd like :( This is quite a fun one, all in all, but less crucial to the state of my nation as a whole, so I think it will have to be one of the more serious ones to get the chop on my part. Maybe I will make a few posts here and there with the Walmy pair wandering about lost, if I find I have more time than expected. Just letting you know that I don't really intend them to get anywhere or influence anything. Hopefully I will keep some kind of track of what's going on though. Nice thread, and I want to see how it turns out! (I have such a headache! Damn you, Guinness!))

OOC: Well my thread's loss. But I'm going to divert you to up to Torrhall on Hubris just to let you have a few more options to use such as the National Armaments Muesum, most of the Alconian Arms manufacturing is nearby, The Opera House, the Old Mint, lots of bars and sea food second largest city....let you explore to your harts conent. Just TG your okay and I'll get them there.

The Asp
There was a woman in the corner of the bar. She was trying to drink and work on her computer at the same time. At some point her blue eyes met Gary and she gave a breif smile. She wore a blue jacket with the THM press badge on it (OOC: A NS wire service)

Sophie's
(OOC: Yes that was through your hat...1/5 points you should tell your students you got a very poor grade!)

"Yes it indicates volcanic activity, but the wrong kind. And nothing to indicate a kimberlite pipe anywhere within this region. And that sample is from one of my mine shafts not the river. I located the tungstun ore body by deposits in the feeder creeks of the river. I have not seen anything that indicates a kiberlite pipe, no quartz or small aniluvial dimonds in any of the creek beds crossing the basalt deposits."

OOC: Sorry only one, very productive pipe.

The Airport
OOC: Actually it is technically an "International Airport" (and has that as it's sign still.) since people arrive from Canada all the time. And it is actually a national guard airport. Oh and Alpena is a city built for 40 thousand with only 20 thousand living in it. Always feels a bit like a gost town.

Fire Booster thrusters....
Bump

(OOC) pssht....you still havn't replied to me

(OOC) pssht....you still havn't replied to me
:?: Damn it, I was sure I had responded to you....sorry must have forgotten to hit sumbit or something...

IC: The officer had just a mottled green uniform with a name patch that said Wrather A set of dark green tags on the color were barley distiquisable only marked by two silver circles above. "At ease officer Fletcher, please take a seat. Well I've heard of Oyster Bay, Oyster Beach, and Oyster Hill but never Oyster...I'm Brigader Wrather, Commandant of Fort Hardtack and commander of the 8th Light Armored Battalion and the 12th Marine Response Group stationed here. Captain Perry of the ARN, who commands sections 2 and 3 of the River Squadron isn't here. So I would say that you've found a high ranking offical wouldn't you? And I'm curious as to why you think that a diplomatic mission needs to send a tank..." He doesn't seem to disturbed by the fact, but the sound of a heavy jet engine can be heard outside and what sounds like a helicopter with an odd secondary hum rising from nearby...

*****************
Dawn Trester turned the corner of what was called Church Road and found herself looking down at a pair of Alconian Tanks on either side of what she realized was another tank. It seemed a bit odd and she didn't recognize the uniforms of the men standing there...but she did know the site of a story when she saw it.
She waved and said "Hello, who do we have here?" in her sexiest voice. Dawn had long ago learned that men babbled in her presence when they were focused on trying to get her in the sack.

Fletcher relaxed...a little, "We took the tank as its got a bulldozer blade, Sir." he explained, "And where we are isn't exactly noted for its roads...and besides, the jeep broke down last year, some bit fell out of the engine and one of those damned monkeys nicked off with it...then we couldn't find a replacement..." Fletcher trailed off, aware that the Brigadier probably wasn't at all interested in his funding troubles.

"In any case, Sir. I got a message from HQ in Dyelli Beybi, they are worried about whats going on down here, something about regional security with all the diamond hunters wandering through the countryside."

Yates had just lit the end off his 'roll-your-own' cigarette, when the voice brought him back to the present (or as close to it as he ever got) again. Barker's head emerged from the turret, "Privates Barker and Yates." he responded before Yates could, "From Dyelli Beybi." Barker smiled charmingly, the effect was somewhat spoiled by a streak of engine grease across his nose.

Yates took a moment to look at the newcomer, she was absolutely stunning (especially to a man who hasn't seen a human female in 2 years). Quick, think of something intelligent to say. "I'm a happy camper!" Yates declared.

The Asp

There was a woman in the corner of the bar. She was trying to drink and work on her computer at the same time. At some point her blue eyes met Gary and she gave a breif smile. She wore a blue jacket with the THM press badge on it (OOC: A NS wire service)

Gary nodded back and then ambled over. As he drew closer, he was gauging her reaction and was ready to act accordingly.

“You look like a hard working stiff like me. Can I buy you a drink?”

Sophie’s

“Ah…well,” said Rick awkwardly, “I’m more of a surveyor myself.”

I feel like a moron.

Troy quickly cut in, attempting to rescue his boss’s discomfort, “So…what kind of plan do you have in mind to go after these diamonds?”

Dock 5

Finally, the containers with the Vrakian mining equipment was placed on the dock. Peter began to unload the crates with the forklift onto the Hydra truck.

The Hydra Group offices

“Status,” said a voice.
“Agent X info retrieval. Plan Ink will commence soon,” replied another.
“Good.”

Fletcher relaxed...a little, "We took the tank as its got a bulldozer blade, Sir." he explained, "And where we are isn't exactly noted for its roads...and besides, the jeep broke down last year, some bit fell out of the engine and one of those damned monkeys nicked off with it...then we couldn't find a replacement..." Fletcher trailed off, aware that the Brigadier probably wasn't at all interested in his funding troubles.

"In any case, Sir. I got a message from HQ in Dyelli Beybi, they are worried about whats going on down here, something about regional security with all the diamond hunters wandering through the countryside."

Yates had just lit the end off his 'roll-your-own' cigarette, when the voice brought him back to the present (or as close to it as he ever got) again. Barker's head emerged from the turret, "Privates Barker and Yates." he responded before Yates could, "From Dyelli Beybi." Barker smiled charmingly, the effect was somewhat spoiled by a streak of engine grease across his nose.

Yates took a moment to look at the newcomer, she was absolutely stunning (especially to a man who hasn't seen a human female in 2 years). Quick, think of something intelligent to say. "I'm a happy camper!" Yates declared.

The Brigader noted Well he avoided telling me where Oyster is, and I know it is in the jungle. He smiled and said,
"Have a nutty Fletchter...it seems that your not in the best of postions really. My present new orders are to keep order in town and protecting some of the buisness aspects of this area. At the present a good deal of the dimond hunters have wandered north. Still, a good number have taken the ferry sourth. Most have little more than a trusty old needle gun or Blaker rifle. Not much of a threat...I haven't seen much in 'orginization' and the jungle here is much more of a threat to all of them.
In truth I'm much more worried about the fact that the Kandi government has gone silent. And a recent Horn Swaggler activity on the river. Of course, to secure this area I'm sure the Markgravine of Bost will free up some companies of heavy armor and another Marine Reaction squad, that should make your superiors happy."

***************
She smiled at Yates, "Well camping isn't my thing, but being happy is Now, I've never seen odd uniforms like that around here"
She continued to walk down the slope. Discretely turning on the thin recorder in her back pocket
"...So what brings the brave privates Yates and Barker to Fort Hardtack, you boys run off from your garrison someplace to find a fortune in dimonds?" She stopped and leaned on a large rock.

One of the Kobi's engines started to whine down and a man exited the turret. He said nothing to anyone. He Just stood at the side of his tank and looked at the other three.

The Asp
"Any more of this heavy beer these Alconians swig down like water and I'll do a Rip Van Winkle... I got the short straw and am having to type out a transcript of that God awful Dawn Trester's radio report." She looks at Gary and thinks Well Tommy, you screwed Anna while I was in Tanzinia so now I'm going to get mine. "The name is Ellane...and how about you get us some of those pub chips?" She had a smile full of promise.

Sophie's
She laughs..."I think dinner is going to be served soon, however I should point out that this tungstun ore body is my real investment. I get paid 80,000 krondors even if you don't find the dimonds. Just remember, our goals are parallel not identical."
She leads them out of the Library and across the court yard to the dinning room. A small Oompa Loompa female is placing a large tureen of something on a large hunt table.

Dock 5
One of the locals noticed that the Hydra truck was getting loaded. "Hey, how come a bunch of wogs get their damn equipment before me..." he screeched.

A second local pipped up..."Ah shut it, what the hell have you got against Vrakians you Outer Island twit..."

Things start decending from there. It appears that a good number of locals are upset about "Vrakian Wog King, and their Lap dog the Duke" and a good number of others are becoming agitated at them...and start calling them names such as Outer scum, Hubirs Hippies, andLow born Vaux. Somehow the Vrakians have found themselves mired in a local argument.....

The Secretaries
The light turned on....
Frank must have been dozing or asleep for he hadn't heard the apartment door being unlocked or the man entering the room. But Frank did find himself facing a large man, soaked in grime, and carrying an old rifle and a backpack. "Kat what the f*** is this...I'm gone for three days and you b**** start shacking up with some low life Vaux who come walking in here...H***!
Kat begins screaming back..."You just up and left you b**** no note no nothing, running off to the god forsaken jungle...leaving me like some damn prostitute. You..."

OOC: Today's lesson why you don't start shagging on the first date.

The group started diggin the whole at the edge of the clearing, using a propane latern to light their work. After a few minutes, Brock stopped digging and picked up his gun. "Just keep working," He held is squad support gun and replaced the scope. He stood listening for a moment, and then fired a shot into the darkness beyound. A yelp of some large creature could be heard. Then only the jungle sounds returned. A few minutes later, Brock fired his gun into a patch of nearby grass. A growl started then moved off.
He looked at his work crew. "It smells the blood, get him in the ground and we can pull back to the grove." The situation continued, with Brock firing an occasional round to keep whatever creature was in the darkness there.

From across the trail and towards the vehicles another large cat creature approached smelling the blood of the wounded man.

Tension and fear were their driving forces as the three men dug the small pit as fast as they could. They didnt like being this far away from their campsite, especially being with their guide whom they didnt overly trust even though he was firing shots off into the jungle to keep the larger predators away.

The pattern continued for minutes that seemed to strech on for hours, stomping the shovels into the ground, tossing dirt in the air, and cracking gunfire. Finally each of the men began to care less for their fallen pal and decided that the pit was deep enough and tossed his wrapped up carcass inside. They now reversed their process and began filling in the pit, watching the dirt fall over the white canvas wrap; not even bothering with a prayer.

Sitting around their large fire Calico kept his eyes fixed in a moving gaze across the trees that linned their clearing. The jungle sounds were enough to unnerve any man however, Calico breathed deep and calmed himself letting his body open up to his surroundings, almost melding together with them. There were large predators out there, among other things that he couldnt quite make out, he just hoped that Brock and the others would return soon so that they could set up their watch.

Tension and fear were their driving forces as the three men dug the small pit as fast as they could. They didnt like being this far away from their campsite, especially being with their guide whom they didnt overly trust even though he was firing shots off into the jungle to keep the larger predators away.

The pattern continued for minutes that seemed to strech on for hours, stomping the shovels into the ground, tossing dirt in the air, and cracking gunfire. Finally each of the men began to care less for their fallen pal and decided that the pit was deep enough and tossed his wrapped up carcass inside. They now reversed their process and began filling in the pit, watching the dirt fall over the white canvas wrap; not even bothering with a prayer.

Sitting around their large fire Calico kept his eyes fixed in a moving gaze across the trees that linned their clearing. The jungle sounds were enough to unnerve any man however, Calico breathed deep and calmed himself letting his body open up to his surroundings, almost melding together with them. There were large predators out there, among other things that he couldnt quite make out, he just hoped that Brock and the others would return soon so that they could set up their watch.

The Benj Cat was hungry, and in one of the moving boxes of metal was a wounded two-legger. She decided that the rest of the two leggers were too busy to notice, but the smell of blood was strong. The big two-leggers were a delicacy to the Benj Cat, she decided to get some take-out.

The five foot creature jumped at the humvee with the wounded man. smashing a window and attempting to pull the man out by the throat. She wanted to get the body away from the circle of trees and the automobiles, back to the jungle.

Brock heard the cat hit the humvee. He had been paying too close attention to the other cat nearby to hear her approach. He turned and realized that the Humvee and a tree were in his line of fire. He yelled out "The boy in the truck is about to be a 'cat snack if you a**holes don't shoot it first."
He attempts to move outwards to protect both the men working at the grave and stop the cat from taking it's prey back into the jungle. As he does so he thinks idiots, I told them to set up a sentry, but No can't do two things at once. Wogs need to be babysat the whole damn trip.

(Sorry this response has taken so blinking long, and I'd just like to say that I mean no disrespect to you by making you wait so long. I love this thread, and hope to be able to launch myself back into it. Once again, my apologies.)

Max's Pub

"Fine....the dinner crowd is expected to start entering soon." She turns to a swinging door behind her and yells "Dan, got a new washer and bus boy." A man emerges from the kitchen, He is short and stocky, looks more like a brick wall. He has an odd looking cap on his head, that seems out of place with the white cook uniform he is wearing. A massive red beard attempts to cover the three scars that cross his face. He walks with a limp in his left leg. He looks at the two men with a squint in his blue eyes, and says..."Where are you two boys from?"

Lou smiled, doing his best to keep from laughing at Dan the little fat man - who obviously had deleusions of granduer - and instead put on a polite look. "I'm from Gadsan* myself, sir. Louis is my name, an' this is Anthony, my friend. 'E's from Tharia†."

Lou was a big man, with a craggy face from near a lifetime at sea. Tony was younger by about ten years, and had a rat-like expression that seemed awful nervous.

"May we start work now, sir? I'm eager to become a part of your fine establishment," smiled Lou, leaning slightly against the counter.

(* one of the Dominions within the Iansislean Commonwealth; known for its iron ore mines and rowdy residents

† Another Dominion. One of the less developed areas, it's known for its inhospitable mountain ranges and discontent population)

The Old Dock

A few attempted to restrain the group. A few others pulled out their bayonets, the sargent just illustrated his displeasure by drawing back the bolt on his gun, loading in.

At first, the Shieldians resisted, while the Gallagans simply tried to slip out the back.

At the arrival of the captian, the Sargent raised his submachine gun and fired a burst into the air, he then shouted "Quiet!, all of you!" In his best parade ground cant.

At the sound of the gun fire, all the action stopped. The Iansisleans looked shocked that anyone should resort to the threat of gunfire to control a crowd.

In a more reasonable tone he started to speak, "Sir, I see that you are Captain Mackenna of this vessel. I am sorry to inform you that your supplies have been raided. At some point in the afternoon, you left this man.." he points to the doctor "...in charge of unloading your supplies. I'm afraid that he failed in his duty, and allowed the crew to wander off, which is also unexcusable."

He glares at the Shieldians, "A group of Horn Swagglers appears to have infiltrated the dock area dressed as native Oompa Loompa porters. They apparently started to remove your supplies to a secreted boat. They were caught in the act by a patroling Militaman, who gave warning. The Hornswagglers opened fire, and our man returned fire. Your remaining supplies were caught in the cross fire. The Horn Swagglers then attempted to escape with their stolen goods upriver. Their boat was destroyed by the Navy. I'm afraid that nothing but Swaggler bodies has been recovered. Approximatly thirty minutes after the siren, these men returned to their posts." He points at the crew.

"The remaining staff, appears to have returned from a shopping expedition with Sir William. We will allow you to deal with this matter on your own. For future reference, or insurance claims, a report has been filed at city hall. Good day captain."
He gives a short bow and then walks with several of the militamen towards the gates. The remaining men in gray give cold stares to the Shieldians and disperse to stations along the dock.

Captain MacKenna felt a little more in his element with a shipbourne problem than he had been back at the bank. He glared up and down the ranks of his men, most of whom were wearing nervous looks, glancing from one another to Captain MacKenna to the gun-wielding sargent.

"I don't need to ask from confirmation from you bunch of louts," scowled MacKenna, "because I know you too well. I ought to just fire the lot of you, and leave you here to find your own passage back to the 'wealth..." (he didn't notice any shocked looks that may be the result of that statement) "...but I think that the Lord Whitman would be more happy to deal with you himself. I'm sure I don't need to pound into your head how important this job is, both for 'is lordship and for Royal Mining and Manufacturing."

Most of the crew members, still lacking effective leadership in Louis's absence, simply shook their heads with downturned eyes. MacKenna nodded, before turning suddenly on Dr. Michan. "And you!" He now didn't bother to conceal his distaste for the little academic. "I don't know what on earth Sir William was thinking, leaving you in charge, but if this is what you do in a blinkering city, I don't think a single man from the expedition will be coming back!" He spat at the doctor's feet. "Now, you get to your quarters; I'll clean up your damn mess this time, but there'll be noone to pull your fat out of the friar in the bush."

Dr. Michan couldn't be more happy to scramble back aboard Vagabond and be safe from MacKenna's current wrath. The captain snorted, before turning back to the sailors. "Alright, you scumbags..." MacKenna's voice trailed off slightly, as he took a quick headcount, which came up two short. "Alright, who's missing, and where are they?"

The Iansislean sailors glanced among their ranks, wondering who would be brave enough to answer tha captain's question. At last, a medium sized Noropian, name of Claude, spoke up. "Uh, skip, we saw 'em - Louis an' Tony - 'eadin' up town. Dunno what 'appened to 'em."

MacKenna sighed. Louis was his number one trouble maker, and Tony was an all too willing sidekick. He'd have to go fish them out of whatever trouble they were getting into - but couldn't very well leave Dr. Michan in charge again. He sighed and set to taking stock of what was missing.

The Passenger Station

Captaian Danya visible shutters at the word llama. "Alright, I've got an open cabin in the texas and the rest can sleep on hammocks in the cross passage. I've got room for your gear, but I'm going to put the blasted llama's on a pen on the fuel barge we're pushing upriver. Dirty animals, never did like them. The charge is 30,000 Krondor. With an immediate 10,000 Kr deposit. I'll take these general thingie's for that, but the rest needs to be in cash or a bank draft from a Klatchian Bank, and not one of those Emperial ones that can't figure out an intrest payment for three months. That's the hard terms, do we have a deal?"

"That'll just have to do," nodded Sir William. He wasn't fond of llamas himself, but didn't want to disregard any sort of pack animal that wouldn't attract the dangerous wildlife. He reached into his coin purse, digging out about 15,000 Gnl. "This is fairly close, eh? One and a half generals to the Krondor?"

Just then, the Gallagan porter reappeared, panting slightly. "Sir William! Bad news!"

"Just a moment," insisted the Iansislean exploror, turning back to the river boat captain. "I can agree to your terms, sir. Do we have a definate schedule for departure?"

OOC: No problem really I was more worried that things had stayed so long in Cross Harbor people had gotten fustrated and left. But I've had mainly positive responses to boost my already inflated ego. **laughs**

Max's Pub*
Dan just humphed at the taller man. He realized that the sailor obviously confused him with one of his fellow navy welps, not a marine. A marine would have known better.

"Well...I've never heard of those places. Then again I bet you never heard of Nintendia or China Wright either...so be it. The bus boy had better get a tub from behind the bar, and get the last of the tables cleaned up. The washer can follow me..."

He walked through the kitchen. A large, tiled room with one wall given over to ovens and stoves, and a massive metal hood over them. In the center of the room is A large central table covered with bowls of seafood, meat, spices, and greens. A young girl about sixteen is working at the table cutting up peppers and onions. Behind them stood several large refrigerators and a large door to a walk in cooler#.

At the other end of the kicthen was a swinging wooden door that led into the scullery. The scullery walls were tiled in the same white tile as the kitchen. But along the walls was a long metal trough, raised to counter height that was filled with dishes. At the center was a large spray hose hanging over a hole and a large peice of machiny below, in one corner was a large metal box with a steam regulator over it.

The box appeared to be making an odd swishing sound as a green light flashed. At the other side of the box stood a Oompa Loompa, drying a stack of dishes. He looked at the new worker and shook his head.

"Alright, this is your duty station. This is Utu....one of the natives around here. He can get the most out of the washer, but a bit slow on prep. I assume you know what your doing?" The short man asks.

(OOC note: This is a professional style restraunt dish cleaning set up. Tried to recall from memory of my church kitchen)

Back in the barroom. A small old woman enters with a small dog under her arm. "Hello Deary...can I get the usual?" The bartender turns and get a beer from the taps which are mounted on the wall behind the bar.
The lady sits down and starts to sip her drink. Oblivious to the new bus boy.

The Old Dock
The sargent and the rest had let the Captain deal with his crew, doing turns up and down the dock and trying to stop any further problems.

The Passenger Station
"Yeah we have a deal, I want to leave ASAP, so the only thing holding us up is going to be your payment and your equipment. I'll send some of my porters to transport your gear. Ah what Dock are you on? The Jenny is on Dock 4. Don't confuse us with the Lowel, same design but she's still in the Navy. I'll let you handle the llama's."

He listens to the interuption, but turns his head towards the porter, who is nodding about the amount of money offered. The captain pockets the coins. "...Although I might not leave till morn, considering I don't want to run into any Horn Swaggler's at night..."

*note: They are across the street from the passenger station. And the miltia captian owns it!!!

The Asp

"Any more of this heavy beer these Alconians swig down like water and I'll do a Rip Van Winkle... I got the short straw and am having to type out a transcript of that God awful Dawn Trester's radio report." She looks at Gary and thinks Well Tommy, you screwed Anna while I was in Tanzinia so now I'm going to get mine. "The name is Ellane...and how about you get us some of those pub chips?" She had a smile full of promise.

Gary smiled even wider. “Well Ellane, I’m Gary. I’ll be right back with the chips.”

As he went back to the bar he is careful to note any other reaction that people might have. He is especially looking out for people that may be attempting to shadow him.

Sophie's

She laughs..."I think dinner is going to be served soon, however I should point out that this tungstun ore body is my real investment. I get paid 80,000 krondors even if you don't find the dimonds. Just remember, our goals are parallel not identical."
She leads them out of the Library and across the court yard to the dinning room. A small Oompa Loompa female is placing a large tureen of something on a large hunt table.

“Um actually, if I recall the contract correctly, you get 80 000 Kronors if nothing materializes but first we have to set up a mining operation here. And we are here to set up an operation for the diamonds, not the ore,” said Troy.

Dock 5

Things start decending from there. It appears that a good number of locals are upset about "Vrakian Wog King, and their Lap dog the Duke" and a good number of others are becoming agitated at them...and start calling them names such as Outer scum, Hubirs Hippies, andLow born Vaux. Somehow the Vrakians have found themselves mired in a local argument.....

Peter and Mark, gauging the situation, waved the local Alconian Kelly over. The last of the crates had been loaded and Mark quietly opened one – using the cover as a shield. The contents; weaponry, survival gear (tents, rations, etc…) and mining equipment (transits, etc…) were safe. Mark quietly withdrew a pistol and concealed it within his jacket.

Peter leaned over to Mark as Kelly was making his way over.

“Once Kelly is here let’s get out of here. We don’t want to get into the middle of an argument. Besides, if we really get hemmed in, Kelly and I will stay behind and unload the rest of the cargo. You know, a peace offering. I don’t think these guys want the Oompa Loompas unloading anything. But if anyone tries to grab the crates then floor it.”

The Secretaries

The light turned on....
Frank must have been dozing or asleep for he hadn't heard the apartment door being unlocked or the man entering the room. But Frank did find himself facing a large man, soaked in grime, and carrying an old rifle and a backpack. "Kat what the f*** is this...I'm gone for three days and you b**** start shacking up with some low life Vaux who come walking in here...H***!
Kat begins screaming back..."You just up and left you b**** no note no nothing, running off to the god forsaken jungle...leaving me like some damn prostitute. You..."

OOC: Today's lesson why you don't start shagging on the first date.

OOC: Ah, it’s poor old Joe that might get it. Mind you, all Vrakian spooks can take care of themselves.

Joe, sizing up Kat’s beau, used his peripheral vision looking for some kind of weapon if needed. Luckily he didn’t bring anything such as a cell phone – just his clothes and watch. I’ll have to use the big lug’s momentum here against him thought Joe. If it comes down to it, I’ll armbar him and give him a quick chop to the throat. Then I can get out of here. I’ll have to watch out for Kat planting a nightlamp in my head. These women can be crazy.

The Brigader noted Well he avoided telling me where Oyster is, and I know it is in the jungle. He smiled and said,
"Have a nutty Fletchter...it seems that your not in the best of postions really. My present new orders are to keep order in town and protecting some of the buisness aspects of this area. At the present a good deal of the dimond hunters have wandered north. Still, a good number have taken the ferry sourth. Most have little more than a trusty old needle gun or Blaker rifle. Not much of a threat...I haven't seen much in 'orginization' and the jungle here is much more of a threat to all of them.
In truth I'm much more worried about the fact that the Kandi government has gone silent. And a recent Horn Swaggler activity on the river. Of course, to secure this area I'm sure the Markgravine of Bost will free up some companies of heavy armor and another Marine Reaction squad, that should make your superiors happy."

***************
She smiled at Yates, "Well camping isn't my thing, but being happy is Now, I've never seen odd uniforms like that around here"
She continued to walk down the slope. Discretely turning on the thin recorder in her back pocket
"...So what brings the brave privates Yates and Barker to Fort Hardtack, you boys run off from your garrison someplace to find a fortune in dimonds?" She stopped and leaned on a large rock.

One of the Kobi's engines started to whine down and a man exited the turret. He said nothing to anyone. He Just stood at the side of his tank and looked at the other three.

"To be honest Sir." Fletcher admited, looking perhaps a tiny bit more relaxed, although secretly he was trying to work out what a 'nutty' was, "I don't really know what I'm doing. There was some talk of Imperial troops moving this way but I don't know whats come of it. I've been out of contact with HQ for a week or so...our tank is a little...ahhh...broken...the radio only seems to pick up some German music station." he paused, struggling to get his jumbled brain in order, "Basically, Sir, we've been given orders to watch what's going on, and there's no way we can do that from out in the middle of the jungle."
Fletcher licked his lips nervously, "But it seems that from what you say the hunters are perhaps a little...underarmed."

********************************************

Barker gave his best smile again, "Nah we're not here to get the diamonds, I reckon the Tzar wants 'em himself, we're here to make sure the hunters don't do anything stupid that would." Barker paused, then recited back the phrase he'd heard the Lieutenant using "compromise regional security."

"Millenium hand and shrimp." Yates put in.

Barker shot Yates a glare, last thing he needed at the moment was some babbling imbecile who wouldn't go away.

The Asp
The chips were served, the only one who even seemed to pay any attention to them was the Bartender.

Elaine was a cute girl, and she seemed to be giving off all the 'right' signals to Gary. At one point she noted that her editor had long ago even stopped glancing at her reports. They were just put on the wire as is, of course almost anything she submitted was really transcripts and low level press breifings. She mused about how hard it was to get anything out of the local officals, they didn't seem to like to talk to reporters. And most had a fear of some of the upper staff. After a good hour of small talk she asked..."I really need to get back to my room, would you care for a nightcap?"

Sophie
She turns on him like a lioness, her eyes boil with rage. Her tone takes on the bite of a 100mph artic wind "You are not touching my tungstun. I spent two years of my life orginizing Wolverine mining and getting the damn Loop cheifs to agree to sell me the mineral rights and land. You Vrakians can damn well keep your hands off. " She looks as if she is going to attempt to physically relocate the man's head into his anal cavity by her own two hands before she returns to a more civilized tone and posture.

"If you think I know where the dimonds are, and am trying to play you. I'm not. Listen, the whole area may be covered in volcanic activity, I've just shown you what I know, which is that the dimonds are not from within a sixty mile band north of the river. I don't know anything about the area between the Kola and the Twarmar or the area south of the Ft. Hardtack."

Dock 5
The local miltia were also gathering, trying to keep a fight from breaking out. One turned to the Vrakians and said. "Get the f*** out of here, damn Outer Islanders are pissed enough already to see you boys not wandering off into the jungle looking for scraps of carbon is just rubbing them raw...now get!"

Joe's Trouble
OOC: Ah yes Joe not Frank sorry...

The man was pissed, and so was the woman. They had stopped even sounding normal and their screaming was getting lounder. At one point the man dropped his rifle on to Joe and yelled. "Listen you b***** get out and don't come near my woman again or I'll draw and quarter you. He just points his gun and waves it towards the bathroom. "You can get out by the back door, just go you piss ant Vaux."

Kat grabed Joe and yelled..."He's not going anywhere, he's mine. We're engaged...so you can f*** off."

OOC: The bathroom has a second door to a back hall which leads to the back door.

Note: D.B. Have not forgotten you...just waiting for another players response that might have an effect on our sub-thread. -G

Max's Pub

"See ya soon, Tony," grinned Lou, confident that he had gotten the better of the job choices. As his friend was led off he smiled at the bartender, and reached down for the large tub, whistling just enough to be annoying as he set off to an uncleaned table. This was certainly easy enough, he reflected, and with the prospect of all the free liquor I can hold!

In the back, Tony tried to grin at the young girl chopping peppers, but failed miserably. He never liked any of Lou's little plot, and always asked himself why he went along with them. Still, at least this wasn't as bad as that time in Port Laughlin...

Tony allowed his thoughts to trail off as the man - Dan? - started showing him about. Although the setup seemed much more impressive than that aboard Vagabond, or any other he had ever seen for that matter, he nodded confidently. "Sure, sir. Spray 'em with the 'ose, then shoot 'em through the machine, yeah?" He nodded at the short 'Loop. "'ello, Utu, was it? I'm Tony."

Back outside, Lou hardly noticed her enterence, as he was busy trying to pick up the dishes in the way that required the least physical effort on his part. He did, however, register the beer taps in the back of his mind for future ... reference.

The Old Dock

MacKenna didn't really know what all the equipment was for, but a good amount of it seemed to be gone, and that worried him. After all, he was supposed to be responsible for Sir William and his expedition's safety and transport, and this certainly wouldn't look good back in Thorntree. Frankly, it didn't look all that good right here. He looked up as the sound of pounding feet approached.

The Passenger Station

Sir William smiled as he committed the Jenny's location to memory, then gave the captain the dock Vagabond was tied to.

"Captain, it's been a pleasure doing business with you. As soon as you're ready to send your porters down, we can start shifting the supplies. Until then, I must return to make preparations. Thank you for all your help." With that, he turned about and strode from the room, the Gallagan porters hurrying after him. Out the window, the captain could see one of them tap Sir William on the shoulder, then say something. It must have been important, because the Iansislean knight soon took off in a run.

Back at the Old Dock

MacKenna stood to greet Sir William as he returned. "Ah, good, sir, you're back. I've got to go into town..."

"You're going nowhere, MacKenna," seethed the explorer, "until you tell me every last thing that happened here, and just what you propose to do about it!"

"Alright, alright," conceded the captain, and told his boss everything, from setting up the bank account, to when he got back, to what he found out from the crew, militiamen, and Dr. Michan, to Tony and Louis being missing. After he had finished, Sir William waved his hand.

"Give me that money," he demanded, stuffing the Krondor bills into his coin purse. "I've got to go buy new supplies before we leave at tomorrow's first light. I assume you've at least been able to assess what's missing?" MacKenna nodded, handing his superior a list. Sir William scanned it: the missing geologist equipment would be hard to replace, but the rest of it - tents, canteens, and other basic survival gear - would be easily acquirable at that gun shop. "I'm going now. I want you to stay here, no matter what happens. Those sailors can take care of themselves until I return."

"Yes, sir," sighed MacKenna to Fitzgerald's retreating back. The Gallagans paused for a second, then followed the knight.

The Asp

After a good hour of small talk she asked..."I really need to get back to my room, would you care for a nightcap?"

Gary replied, “I thought you would never ask.”

Gary followed her up while keeping a sideways glance on the bartender. Stay alert and focus on the mission.

Sophie

"If you think I know where the dimonds are, and am trying to play you. I'm not. Listen, the whole area may be covered in volcanic activity, I've just shown you what I know, which is that the dimonds are not from within a sixty mile band north of the river. I don't know anything about the area between the Kola and the Twarmar or the area south of the Ft. Hardtack."

Troy was about to retort when Rick put his hand on his second’s chest and said in Vrakian

-Don’t push it any further. We need her for our uses. She told us more than she probably realized and we still need access into the area. Heck, I’m the hothead, remember? Now apologize.

Troy, looking at Sophie did a short bow and said, “Sorry. I guess I was just chasing shadows. My apologies for doubting you.”

Dock 5

The local miltia were also gathering, trying to keep a fight from breaking out. One turned to the Vrakians and said. "Get the f*** out of here, damn Outer Islanders are pissed enough already to see you boys not wandering off into the jungle looking for scraps of carbon is just rubbing them raw...now get!"

The Vrakians didn’t need to be told twice. Kelly jumped in the back while Mark floored it, being careful not to run anyone over but fast enough so that no one could latch on.

Joe's Trouble

Kat grabed Joe and yelled..."He's not going anywhere, he's mine. We're engaged...so you can f*** off."

OOC: The bathroom has a second door to a back hall which leads to the back door.

Joe disengaged himself from Kat’s grip and, keeping an eye on the gun, left in the direction that the large man indicated. He found the back door and broke into a jog once he cleared the house. He kept a wary eye out for any large groups (such as rowdy drinking diamond hunters) and managed to find his way back to the Diablo hotel.

Max’s Pub
Dan threw Tony a dish towel and said. “Well, the tea crowd has already passed through, but we have to get ready for the dinner crowd. So start washing, Utu show him the ropes.”

Utu nodded and continued to dry the dishes. He said very little, showed the sailor how to put the dishes into metal cages and then stack six of the cages. And how to operate the dishwasher. He said almost everything in a quite singsong voice. Finally, after staying silent for a brief period in time he asks. “Why you work here? Get paid more working the docks, not have to deal with obsa.”

The Passenger Station

Captain Danya turns to the old man behind the counter. “Can I use your dock relay?”

“Yeah,” The other man replies as he opens a box on the wall next to him and sets some switches…”Ah, what stand?”
“Eight should be the closest….” Replies Danya. He waits as the phone rings. “Blackwater….good….send the orange men…to the [/I] Vagabond[/I] pick up their gear. Yeah, oh and see if you can set up that pen…Yeah llama’s. Well better than that last group….I’ve got some cash….who’s the captain and who’s the engineer?….yeah, you escort them….I don’t need the boys in gray turning our loops into swiss cheese.”

He hangs up, tosses a coin to the old man and then walks across the street…

Max’s Pub
The bartender barked at Lou, “Do it properly, or get the hell out. I’ll take any broken dishes out of your paycheck.” The little woman says nothing, but her small dog seems to be interested in the new help, and attempts to hump Lou’s leg.

At the same time the militia captain walks in, at his side is a young man in what appears to be a new gray uniform, almost right off the rack. The bartender says “Hi hon, I heard the siren, how bad was it…”
“Well, some idiots left their cargo lying around the Old dock, unsecured. Complete and utter twits…”
The young man pipes up, “We came up with a new phrase Iansisle idiots, I wonder why they don’t just man the whole ship with those porter fellows of theirs, far more reliable.”

Captain Danya strolls in at the same time. He was parched and needed a quick drink…”Bottle of rock and rye please…evenin’ Max…” he nods at the militia captain.

The Old Dock
Captain Mackenna heard an odd sound, a small cart of some kind drove down the dock toward them. The vehicle was yellow with the words Property of Brythers painted on the side. The driver was a man in overalls and a spotless white shirt. Behind him was a small flatbed of some sort, that was carrying five Oompa Loompas. The vehicle stopped some distance off, and the driver approached the ship.

The man himself didn’t look to be more than 17 at most, with an odd mustache growing on his face. He wore a pair of heavy speckles and his brown eyes matched the color of the hairs escaping from under his peaked cap.
An odd voice, almost inaudible, as though he had a throat problem, emerged from the young man. “Ah, this is the Vagabond? I’m here to pick up the items that are to be loaded onto the Jenny.

The Outfitters
The store owner and a naval officer were standing looking at various derbies deposited on the dock. They were picking through them and discussing who’s boat it may have been. Pulled out from the wreckage was a wooden box, it had scorch marks on it from the explosion, and the tag identifying the owner appeared to have been torn off.*

*Typical case for scientific equipment of your ‘tech level’ lady luck decided to smile on you. I’d say your microscope survived but is going to need a cleaning.
The Lion Hotel
(The Bartender had noted Emily and Gary leaving)

The Lion was near the river, and didn’t have any sign or notice about it. It looked like a large house until one entered the lobby. Her room was small, but did have a river view, not very large but then they were really interested in the bed. She closed the door behind them, tossed her laptop with the satellite link on a small desk and said…”How about we get the booze after?” She smiled and then jumped on Gary pushing him down on the bed…

Rest Removed since NC-17 Rating is Not allowed on this Forum. I’m not looking to get a job with Playboy

Across the river, in a building next to the outfitters, two men sat next to a small black box and a receiver. The units were attached to several cases laying around the floor. From one of those cases, a set of headphones was attached. The man listening said…”Damn, she seems to be energetic…”
The other man, who was using a large optical device and looking at the hotel rooms said. “Yeah, well I’d say he isn’t going to last much longer based on his heat signs…I wonder who he’s with…”
“Don’t know….although he sounds like a freeman from one of the Near Isles but…but his cadence was off…and those boys don’t usually go for the one night stand…ah she’s really going here…damn, is that me? Or did she just scream loud enough for me not to need this equipment.?”
“She’s faking it…no appropriate thermal change…”
“Hell, she should get a damn Oscar for that performance…”
“I wonder what he is up too?”
“Well he just called room service…”

Sophie’s

Hmm, they apparently have taken roles in this little endeavor. I wonder if the purposefully miss filed those forms to get access to me?. Well I’ll have to keep them at a distance from now on Sophie pretended not to understand the Vrakian being spoken. Of course she was from the special forces wing of the marines, who learned to understand, if not speak the language.

“Gentlemen, would you please take your seats, dinner shall be served shortly.”

Joe’s Trouble
Joe was in real trouble. He just didn’t know it yet. First, he had left his ‘calling card’ around the room and in Kat. Just after he left, well there was a shot fired. A neighbor, who had been woken by the screaming, called the militia. Well, after arriving…they realized that they had a double homicide.
Sargent McLar was not a happy camper. He had come here to retire from police work, but then had gotten the same job. Well homicides were fairly low…
“Okay Mam’ you said that they were screaming, and at one point the woman…announced that she was going to marry this man…who had been previously called ‘Joe’.” She nodded “….did this Joe say anything?”
“Ah not that I can recall”
“Thank you, I think we have all that we need from you…”
He turned to a young man in uniform next to him. “Well, we found that doggie bag from Geo’s grill in the fridge, and it doesn’t look like they ate in. We will head over there…”

By the next morning they had a description to go with the name, and an idea that they worked together. The waiter had found his tip to be a bit meager, and had remembered the couple. Well now the Sargent waited for ‘Joe’ inside the Diablo hotel lobby. The man was too new to have found a room elsewhere.

OOC note: since the militia are acting as the police here, a police scanner will not suffice as under regulation 12.32 of the Militia Code is that all transmissions will be encrypted….easy to break.

Spam Alert:
Add for the Klaymore Kitty (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=85051) (you may actually find this useful)

"To be honest Sir." Fletcher admited, looking perhaps a tiny bit more relaxed, although secretly he was trying to work out what a 'nutty' was, "I don't really know what I'm doing. There was some talk of Imperial troops moving this way but I don't know whats come of it. I've been out of contact with HQ for a week or so...our tank is a little...ahhh...broken...the radio only seems to pick up some German music station." he paused, struggling to get his jumbled brain in order, "Basically, Sir, we've been given orders to watch what's going on, and there's no way we can do that from out in the middle of the jungle."
Fletcher licked his lips nervously, "But it seems that from what you say the hunters are perhaps a little...underarmed."

********************************************

Barker gave his best smile again, "Nah we're not here to get the diamonds, I reckon the Tzar wants 'em himself, we're here to make sure the hunters don't do anything stupid that would." Barker paused, then recited back the phrase he'd heard the Lieutenant using "compromise regional security."

"Millenium hand and shrimp." Yates put in.

Barker shot Yates a glare, last thing he needed at the moment was some babbling imbecile who wouldn't go away.

OOC: Sorry for delaying this post, I was hoping for some other things to occur to call back on since your ahead at least on my time line. Has any one seen Fasta Benj?

IC:The Brigader leaned out over the table and picked up one of the nut covered doughnuts and a plate. "Well, so you have been sent out here to see that we have things under control....we have a few problems I'll admit, but most of the locals carry a few klaymore kitties around to deal with the crocs. Most of the foreign wags are really underarmed, but then some of them haven't gotten past here before snuffing it." He then bit into it over a small plate, nuts fell on the the plate as he munched away. From another room a large mastif of a black dog enters and sits down looking the Alconian officer. "...And your broken radio is a legitamite reason for not calling ahead...it is lucky for you that the naval air patrols didn't think you were some new Horn Swaggler threat, I doubt you would have found an air launced anti-tank missle fun to deal with." He takes another bite, and contiues to size up the man seated across from him. The Tzar seems to be putting his finger in a good number of pies recently...I don't want him in any of mine... He finishes half the nutty and returns to talking.

"Well, I would say you and your boys would like a nice hot shower and a good breakfast? I've got some nice open beds that you can have while we work this situation out. It may be awhile, I'd let you use our long range radio but I don't have the authority to do that at the moment. I'll have to buck it upstairs. As for the German programs on your set, well there is an odd group of militant menonites living up in the hills east of here. It might be their radio station...or...well you might be picking up something the River rats have cobbled together. Was it more hynms or polkas and rock?"

****************
Dawn gave a very *naughty* look to Barker and says. "Well, what does ensuring regional security entail. Besides driving massive peices of machinery all over the jungle?"

She makes a mental note:The Tzar wants the dimonds? how very intresting.

Two Alconians from one of the tanks have started walking over and are discussing the Dyellian tank and some of it's attachments, especially the chair strapped to the back.

The Lion Hotel

After the exercise, Gary rolled out of bed and put on his pants then answered the door. He tipped the room service waiter well and glanced back at Ellane.

“Here’s the food. I’ll just go and mix us a couple drinks. What do you want? Why, what a beautiful night, eh? Look at those stars!”



Gary began mixing the drinks and, as soon as Ellane was distracted, he deftly added a strong, odorless, and tasteless sedative to her drink.

“Here you are,” offered Gary.

Sophie’s

Not wanting to provoke their host more, Rick and company sat down at the table and made small talk about the food.

Joe’s troubles

The spooks on the fourth floor of the Hydra offices were able to intercept and decode the police transmissions. One swore and quickly dialed Frank. After a short conversation, Frank sat Joe down.

“What the hell were you thinking? You weren’t supposed to bang her. Just be a little friendly and that was it.”
Joe cast his gaze to the floor.
“Well, here’s the situation. Kat’s husband, or whatever he is, killed her and himself. Most likely there is someone waiting down below.”
“Ah s%^#!”
“Tell me something. Was she alive when you left?”
“Yes.”
“Then there is no problem. But I don’t really know about the laws here. Your cover story still holds – that is, a drifter from the Outer Alconian Islands looking for work. We’ll keep a close eye on you and most likely you can be released soon. If bail comes then a “rich uncle” can come in and get you out.”
“Okay.”
“You really f#%&^*$ this up you stupid [i]pakrah. You stick to your cover or an Alconian jail will be the least of your worries. Now go and get yourself arrested.”

As soon as Joe left, Frank began packing up all the gear to move out.

At the Hydra Offices

After dropping Kelly off, Peter and Mark began unloading the truck. Some help from the fourth floor speeded up the process.

The Lion Hotel

After the exercise, Gary rolled out of bed and put on his pants then answered the door. He tipped the room service waiter well and glanced back at Ellane.

“Here’s the food. I’ll just go and mix us a couple drinks. What do you want? Why, what a beautiful night, eh? Look at those stars!”

"A gin and tonic...damn I need to finish that report."
She rises up and logs in on her computer and begins to type.


Gary began mixing the drinks and, as soon as Ellane was distracted, he deftly added a strong, odorless, and tasteless sedative to her drink.

“Here you are,” offered Gary.

She took the drink. With a few more key strokes she then turned back to him and said..."Geeze you tired me out..." She fell back to the bed, her nude body spread out across the covers.

On the computer screen was an article
**************
The men looked at each other as she hit the sack. "Well, that's odd. Our little night owl is taking a very early break."
The man with the scope was looking more serious. "I got a flicker on the scope with that glass of hers."
"Huh?...." The man with the headphones on didn't understand. He was still listening to her start to snore. "Now she hasn't done that before..."
"She's been drugged. Who in the hell would drug a reporter?"
"I thought he was pumping her for information..."
"So did I..."
"I've got...typing?"
"He's at her computer..."
They just look at each other with blank stares
The one with the scope thinks That's an odd thermal on her...

Sophie’s

The dinner was a shrimp creole. Large amounts of shrimp, okra, tomatoes and rice. Very good, it was served with corn bread and some odd mixture of beans no one could quite figure out, well besides the host. Who was being quite silent and brooding at the head of the table.

Joe’s troubles
McLar narrowed in on Joe in the lobby. "Well, I do beleive we have Joe. Excuse me Sargent McLar of the Goth Milita, I'm afraid that I need to ask you some questions..."
He led him over to a table near the bar. He placed Joe such that he could watch the entire lobby while he interveiwed his subject.

"First, what room are you in? Are you staying here by yourself?"
[insert response]
He nods to his subordinate to go check the room.

"Well what is your full name? age?"
[Insert response]
"Residency? Status? May I see your I.D. Card."
[insert response]
"Why are you in Cross Harbor"
[insert response]
"How well did you know Kathleen MacNaar?"
[insert response]
"Would you like to explain the events of last night?"
[insert response]

As soon as Joe left, Frank began packing up all the gear to move out.

There was a knock on the door, it was the young Miltia officer.*
(*Who had the actual number of Joe's room from the hotel registry.)

There was a knock on the door, it was the young Miltia officer.*
(*Who had the actual number of Joe's room from the hotel registry.)

Frank looked at the gear (which wasn’t much) that was packed. “Just a minute!”

He opened the window and checked to see if there were any stragglers about. Satisfied there weren’t any he threw the bags out the window into a large garbage bin. At the end of the alley, a Hydra truck pulled up and two men got the bags.

Frank then turned and opened the door and said in a disarming fashion, “What can I do ya for friend?”


"First, what room are you in? Are you staying here by yourself?"

“Well, I came here with a buddy of mine, in room 4B.”

"Well what is your full name? age?"

“I’m Joe McGruder. I’m 25 years old sir.”

"Residency? Status? May I see your I.D. Card."

I’m from the Outer Islands, from Blood Harbour” Here he produced his ID card. “I’m just looking for work.”

"Why are you in Cross Harbor?"

“Well, sir. Everyone’s been reading the papers about these diamonds. Thought I could get on with a crew and go out there.”

"How well did you know Kathleen MacNaar?"

“Not well at all. She’s a secretary over at Hydra Group at their branch office. Only met her yesterday. Did something happen?”

"Would you like to explain the events of last night?"

“Well, I picked her up after work and we went for supper. Then she invited me over to her place. She’s very pretty so I figured, “Why not?” One thing led to another and we had some fun. Then we fell asleep. Before I knew it, some big guy came in waving a gun around threatening to shoot me. Sir, I didn’t know she was married or had a boyfriend. She didn’t say anything to me about that. So then she says that her and I are married which makes the big guy even madder. But I was able to get away. I thought that guy was gonna plug me for sure. Is there anything wrong?”

Frank then turned and Opened the door and said in a disarming fashion, "What can I do ya for friend?"
The young officer said, " Goth Milita sir, I need to see Mr. McGruders things please."
**********************
"McGruder? from the Outer Islands and Blood Harbor? What unit are you with out there?"
(OOC: If he's well trained little spy he's with the 10th Milita or the 2nd Milita Navy, but then he should have 'checked-in' unless he was discharged for some reason (I still have compulsory military service!))

"As for Ms. MacNaar, I'm afraid she is dead, along with a Vaux who has been living with her on and off for the past few months. It appears as if he fatally shot her, but the wound was not instantanous. A standard milita utility knife was found in his neck. A very messy scene, very messy indeed. Ah, I'm going to need your finger prints and your DNA sample....to help with the investigation....so I'm going to need to pull your file, who was your last commanding officer?"

OOC: I'll try to respond as quick as I can. Today is a vacation. Besides, I have to work on my backstory. Yeah, that's it... :)

OOC: Argh. I should have been more specific in my last post. Frank threw out only the stuff that perhaps would have aroused suspicion (like the comm gear). But personal effects would have been left behind. Sorry. I can edit if you want. Cyro, I believe, is the capital of Dyelli Beybi.

IC:

The Hotel Diablo

“Sure,” said Gary, waving his arm, “Come on in.”

The small, dingy room had a bag at the foot of the bed with some clothes draped over a chair. Frnk had a knapsack on his back and maintained his friendly demeanor.

Joe broke down, "Oh my God! Killed?"

After composing himself after a few minutes he replied in a shaky voice,

“Well, I was discharged for medical reasons. It should all be in the file sir. My last commander officer was Captain Earl Johnston and I served in the 10th Militia. I…um…well, I’m embarrassed to say this but I shot my big toe off during a training exercise which hindered me from fulfilling my militia duties. From then on, I’ve been a little wary of guns and soldiers aren’t afraid of guns, right?"

Joe then proceeded to take off his right boot…


Sophie’s

Rick and company devoured the food with gusto and proclaimed compliments to the chet. Holding a beer in one hand, Rick turned to Sophie and asked,

“So how do you best figure we should go into the wilds?”


The Lion Hotel

Gary looked at Ellane’s nude body and signed. After covering her with a blanket and checking her breathing, he looked at the computer keyboard. He slipped on a pair of plastic gloves and, making sure he could keep an eye on Ellane, began to type…


[code:1:d5c9d1d22a]Good Evening, this is Dawn Trester with Newsday reporting to the world of the events in Fort Hardtack and the surrounding region. Some more intrepid diamond hunters have come back from the unstable region of Karndi and say that this is where the diamonds are. Of course, many people discount that as mere rumour but apparently one of the diamond hunters displayed a huge diamond at the local bar. A fight broke out and several people were injured. Several people were arrested by the local militia who quickly restored order.

Some crews that managed to hear of that incident before this reporter are now travelling east to Karndi, despite the possible dangers of encountering Imperial forces from Dyelli Beybi and Fasta Benj.[/code:1:d5c9d1d22a]

Gary then pushed one button on his phone.

The Hydra Offices

The regular crew belonging to Rick were either sleeping or idling away on the second floor. The fourth floor was nearly the same except for the fact that some were hunched over flickering computer terminals: monitoring, watching, waiting…

A faint beep came.

“That’s it,” said someone, “Upload”


[code:1:d5c9d1d22a]Fort Hardtack (Cyro News Service)

The region of Karndi is now believed to be the source of this massive diamond hunt which has attracted widespread regional and even international attention.

A group of diamond hunters unknowingly revealed their secret at a local bar which resulted in a altercation, seriously injuring several people. The local militia was able to restore order and several people were arrested.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to Karndi,” said a local Alconian when interviewed.[/code:1:d5c9d1d22a]


The FKC (http://www.freewebs.com/klatchia/index.htm)
The Order of the Seraphim (http://s2.invisionfree.com/Order_ofthe_Seraphim/index.php?act=idx)
The UTP (http://invisionfree.com/forums/UTP/index.php?)
TDP Tech Inc. (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?p=1902608#1902608)
World Factbook Entry: Vrak (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=83379&highlight=)

OOC: Sorry for delaying this post, I was hoping for some other things to occur to call back on since your ahead at least on my time line. Has any one seen Fasta Benj?

IC:The Brigader leaned out over the table and picked up one of the nut covered doughnuts and a plate. "Well, so you have been sent out here to see that we have things under control....we have a few problems I'll admit, but most of the locals carry a few klaymore kitties around to deal with the crocs. Most of the foreign wags are really underarmed, but then some of them haven't gotten past here before snuffing it." He then bit into it over a small plate, nuts fell on the the plate as he munched away. From another room a large mastif of a black dog enters and sits down looking the Alconian officer. "...And your broken radio is a legitamite reason for not calling ahead...it is lucky for you that the naval air patrols didn't think you were some new Horn Swaggler threat, I doubt you would have found an air launced anti-tank missle fun to deal with." He takes another bite, and contiues to size up the man seated across from him. The Tzar seems to be putting his finger in a good number of pies recently...I don't want him in any of mine... He finishes half the nutty and returns to talking.

"Well, I would say you and your boys would like a nice hot shower and a good breakfast? I've got some nice open beds that you can have while we work this situation out. It may be awhile, I'd let you use our long range radio but I don't have the authority to do that at the moment. I'll have to buck it upstairs. As for the German programs on your set, well there is an odd group of militant menonites living up in the hills east of here. It might be their radio station...or...well you might be picking up something the River rats have cobbled together. Was it more hynms or polkas and rock?"

****************
Dawn gave a very *naughty* look to Barker and says. "Well, what does ensuring regional security entail. Besides driving massive peices of machinery all over the jungle?"

She makes a mental note:The Tzar wants the dimonds? how very intresting.

Two Alconians from one of the tanks have started walking over and are discussing the Dyellian tank and some of it's attachments, especially the chair strapped to the back.

OOC: Sorry about my delay in posting...I don't really have a legitimate excuse.

Fletcher took a moment to digest all this, "Thank you Sir, the offer of temporary logings would be greatly apreciated." he looked a little uncertain for a moment, "We don't really need to use your radio's at the moment Sir, but if you have anyone who could take a look at ours it would be very useful...its mostly heavy metal Sir."

----------------------------------

Barker grinned back, subconsciously smoothing his moustache and trying to look very relaxed in the turret of his tank, Shut up Yates he prayed, the mad little man was begining to become annoying, "Well." he said evasively, "It does of course involve driving this piece of machinery to places we feel might have consequences on the future of Dyelli Beybi."

Yates muttered something incoherent, then sat down on the top of the track.

OOC: Like the Dawn Trester angle…she is going to be pissed…

The Hotel Diablo


Joe then proceeded to take off his right boot…

The militia non-com just said “stop…now are you saying you….”
The walk talky on his belt buzzed. He stopped for a moment and picked it up the unit…
Please bring the subject in… was all that he heard, but he understood…
“I’m afraid I need to head into the office, I’m going to need a statement from you. So I’m going to ask that you come with me please..”

********************
The younger officer poked around the room, then said…”So where are you guys from?”


Sophie’s

Sophie replied, “Well gentlemen, I think the easiest and safest route would be by river boat. Unfortunately all of the commercial ones have been packed recently. However, Wolverine mining does have a small river boat tied up on Dock 3. I need to make an inspection of the fortifications at Fort Hardtack and have a meeting with the principles there, so you can just tag along for the ride. “ The small Oompa began to clear away the dishes…

The Lion Hotel

The men across the river monitored the situation.
“Well he just did something, sounds like a beep, but not the right kind…”
“I think Mr. Bang is leaving. I’m calling the guy on the street…”

ISD Electronic Post #2
They had been monitoring all of the major communication lines out of the south western section of the duchy. When the computers spit out the wire message. A few of the spooks looked at the transcript and they were confused. After all, they had the actual transcript, since Dawn Trester broadcast had been recorded and typed up by them.

[code:1:5f7e5a4d86]Code:
Good Evening, this is Dawn Trester with Newsday reporting to the world of the events in Fort Hardtack and the surrounding region. Some more intrepid diamond hunters have come back from the unstable region of Karndi and say that this is where the diamonds are. Of course, many people discount that as mere rumour but apparently one of the diamond hunters displayed a huge diamond at the local bar. A fight broke out and several people were injured. Several people were arrested by the local militia who quickly restored order.

Some crews that managed to hear of that incident before this reporter are now travelling east to Karndi, despite the possible dangers of encountering Imperial forces from Dyelli Beybi and Fasta Benj.
[/code:1:5f7e5a4d86]

General
Elsewhere confusion set in. Two independent reports about the diamonds being from Kandi. A good number of papers, unwilling to write the expense of sending reporters to even Cross Harbor ran the story.
Those papers that had sent reporters, the night desk Editors were chewing out butts for not telling them of the story…that it was going to run and they should get their rears in gear or become farmers…

Newsday was really hit with a sandbag. It had just heard a report that should have come directly from it’s wonderful new find living out in the jungle, not from a wire story. It was not good. But then the night editor called in a favor.


The next morning….Cross Harbor Regional Airport and Strike Base

A few of the international papers arrived on an early morning flight from Torrhall. The aircrew dropped them off to the ticket clerk, and the ticket clerk started to sell them at a Krondor a piece. One of those who bought a paper was gunner Matt Pask. By 10:00 am that morning, the headline Kandi is Diamond Country was flying towards Fort Hardtack on a naval rotodyene doing a resupply…

((OOC: Sophie is going to get a copy of that wire report in the morning…))

Fort Hardtack

The Brigader replied in a friendly manner, “Well, well just tow that tank of yours down to a safe, dry location on the naval dock so those boys can look at it. They seem to have a better handle on odd electronics than most of my repair crews…”

He turned to the man who had brought in the Lieutenant. “…Captain Myers, would you please round up the rest of the tank crew and get the Beast to tow that tank of theirs down to the open storage shed, and then put them in cabin A for the moment. If that is it Lieutenant Fletcher, I will leave Captain Myers to get you settled, and note the rules of the Fort….Good day.”

////////////////////////
Dawn leaned up against a rock and said, “How interesting, so tell me…what of the future of the Empire rests in this little patch of cleared jungle?”

The two Alconian marines finally walk over and ask Yates…”Uh, Good Day…may we ask what type of tank this is? And how old is it?”

Yates looked up, his small and warped brain had packed up for a while, "Are those my feet?" he asked.

Barker noticing Yates was talking to someone flashed a smile to Dawn, trying to indicate he's be right back with her in a moment, then turned to the two marines, "Its a Hyrax model A...Dyelli Beybian Main Battle tank...ahhh, the ones the army usually uses are Hyrax Bs....the Hyrax A has a few 'issues'"

Fletcher once more took on the look of a man completely out of his depth, he saluted again, "Very kind Sir." he said, before moving to trail the Captain like a lost puppy.

The marines seemed to nod at this...and give Yates a look of pity. The first marine looked up and said, "Ah, well what's your standard fuel for these things?"

Dawn looked on with a smile...Well today's headline...Dylbian scouts arrive in Fort Hardtack.

///////////////////////////
The Captain led back into the main hall of the adminstration building and stopped to a small woman behind a desk..."Call the beast crew and send it to the creek crossing." He then waved for Fletcher to continue to follow him and they stopped on the steps outside.
"That is barraks building 1, and barracks building two and three over there. You'll be using the shower in barracks 1. The mess is on the first floor of barrack two. The kitchen is open 24 hours...but limited menu from 22 hundread to six hundread hours. Cabin A is on the other side of the barracks. Officer's mess is next door." He points to a low building next to the admin office. "Officer meals are at 600, 1200, and 2000 hours." He waves Fletcher to continue and they enter the rover.

"Base facilites are going to be mainly closed but you will be able to go into the motor pool and down to the river docks to acess your vehicle." The rover twisted itself back out the gate and toward the town.

"Now, I don't know what your policy is about fratenrization...but the local estabilshment for female company is Anne's..." He indicates a large two story, frame building that is the largest structure along the road. It has no indication of any kind other than a large set of double doors in the center of the lower floor. The windows are dark and shaded this early in the morning. "...If your boys go in there...well tell them to be wary...I've pulled more dead bodies out of there this week than anywhere else. Now the small metal building next to it is Bert and Ernie's ah don't go in there unless well you play for the home team. And the massive array of building there across the road is the trading post. The local Loops congregate there in the afternoon."

Finally they come to the gully and splash across the creek pulling up next to the Hydra tank.

A few moments later a massive, track creation appears at the edge of the gully. It has two massive hydraulic cranes on the back and the roar of it's engines is almost defening. There is a small, armored box at the front which appears to hold the driver.

The Diablo Hotel

The younger officer poked around the room, then said…”So where are you guys from?”

Frank gave his best charming smile and replied, “Ah…you mean me and Joe? Well, I don’t know Joe very well you know. But he’s from the Outer Islands I think and I’m from Narv-X.”


Sophie’s

I need to make an inspection of the fortifications at Fort Hardtack and have a meeting with the principles there, so you can just tag along for the ride. “ The small Oompa began to clear away the dishes…

Rick replied,”That sounds okay. We have to organize our gear at our end. I mean, how many people can this boat hold?”

The Lion Hotel

“I think Mr. Bang is leaving. I’m calling the guy on the street…”

Gary, after making sure that Ellane was okay, slipped quietly out. Making sure that there was no one in the hallway he exited the hotel via the stairwell. Hitting the street, Gary stood for a moment looking for a cab.

The Diablo Hotel

OOC: I'm assuming Joe comes along quietly...

IC: The young man replied..."Oh, how wonderful, what part of Narv-x?"

Sofie's
"Well she has a cabin space for 12 crewman and 10 passengers...but we can squeeze a few more on, and I never have operated with a full crew. If we let a few passengers sleep on a covered barge that I know is around well we can get say 24-40 people on board. Well that and how much gear, not first class accomadations but..."

The Lion
Very oddly for this time of night, and this location there was a taxi. It was a beatup volkswagon bus with the words Taxi painted on the side and a man who looked to be in his 90's driving. The van almost ran over Gary as it pulled up...the old man croaked..."Where to sonny?"

City Hall
Joe had found himself hustled out of the building and into a very old car that apparently had been taken, it was from the fifties at least. He then found himself being hustled into a low, undground set of chambers. A vaulted array of offices. The room he was shown was built out of one half of a vault. The door stood behind him, and a large mirror was against the side wall. At the end of the metal table sat a wiry old man, he was smoking a pipe and looking at the young man with a gleam in his eye.

There was a woman, standing against the wall that he was apparently talking to.

In Vrakian he said..."That cropulant waste of flubber, the King of Vrak has set his eyes on a new sex partner, he's become the sex slave of a polar bear!"

Barker took a moment to think on the question...."Ahhh....standard is high octane petrol....but we've been running it off keroseine....it doesn't seem to like it much."

---------------------------
Fletcher followed the Captain, occasionally saying "Yessir." when it seemed apropriate, however the large vehicle he had just noticed, prompted him to act,
"Begging your pardon Sir," he said, "But what is that?"

he Diablo Hotel


OOC: I'm assuming Joe comes along quietly...

IC: The young man replied..."Oh, how wonderful, what part of Narv-x?"

“Oh! You’ve been to Narv-X? I’m from Cloud Valley.”

Sofie's

"Well she has a cabin space for 12 crewman and 10 passengers...but we can squeeze a few more on, and I never have operated with a full crew. If we let a few passengers sleep on a covered barge that I know is around well we can get say 24-40 people on board. Well that and how much gear, not first class accomadations but..."

Rick thought for a moment.

“We, we’ve got about a dozen guys including the four of us here you see. Basically, enough for 3 teams. Plus our gear. We can take the trucks from our offices since they are heavy-duty. As well, we keep an inventory of equipment at the office for other survey jobs but might have to go to the outfitters to get more stuff. How long do you think we’ll be out there? A month?

The Lion

Very oddly for this time of night, and this location there was a taxi. It was a beatup volkswagon bus with the words Taxi painted on the side and a man who looked to be in his 90's driving. The van almost ran over Gary as it pulled up...the old man croaked..."Where to sonny?"

Gary peered into the van. Odd how a taxi just seemed to be available. But the old man looked harmless.

“That way,” he gestured vaguely towards the direction of the Hydra offices. He climbed in, making sure to appear somewhat lost but noting the conversation the old man will have with the dispatcher. As well, Gary quickly scanned the street for any other oddly placed vehicles or persons at this time of night.


City Hall

In Vrakian he said..."That cropulant waste of flubber, the King of Vrak has set his eyes on a new sex partner, he's become the sex slave of a polar bear!"

Joe stared impassively at the old man and woman, carefully noting his surroundings.

City Hall

The door closed behind Joe as the old man exlaimed "Ah, see I was right he is a Vrakian Agent*...Now boy, don't get your whatever in a knot. Only the Vrakians tend to be intrested in this kind of thing and as good as you are..."

(*OOC: A complete and utter wild guess really, but he didn't react! It's a 'the dog didn't bark scenerio')

The Lion
"That way ain't a place...now I can drive you the way ya just pointed but I don't suppose a young man such as yourself appreciates the value of a Krondor these days..."

There is no call to a dispatcher or anything. The man has gone to the major street intersection and is waiting for Gary to actually give him a location.

Sofie's
"Well besides being armed for the local wildlife and the local vermin. I have tended to ship most of the equipment Wolverine mining has needed to our facilites. I don't know how you want to operate, but my boat can push two barges upriver. I doubt that your going to place a burnen on it unless your trying to send up heavy equipment right now. Now then, at 16 people, we can throw most of you alone in crew bunk rooms and the passenger cabins. Someone is going to have to double up. As for taking some trucks, I think we can load three aboard a barge. "

She gets up and looks at a map on the dining room wall.
"Base camp is going to be the woverine mining location, I've got off duty marines guarding it. Most fuel used out in the jungle is either alchol, kerosene, or desiel fuel. Any thing else, and your going to have to hump it out there. I'd suggest non-parisable rations, tents with misquito netting, and several bright lamps. Avoid flashy clothes and running around above a walk unprotected, unless you like being humped by a monkey"

Fort Hardtack
The response was..."that explains the smell, and a lot of things..."

By this time the whole group was standing next to the hydra tank. The Captain said with an odd sense of brightness..."That's the beast, it's a tank repair vehicle, well the tow part...Ah I think the brigader didn't think your tank would get to the dock without either falling into the creek or the river. Or doing major damage to the houses."

He looks at Barker still in the tank and says politely...

"Why don't you get your boys and their gear to the mess for some nice warm grub?"

The kobi still running it's engine moves out of the area along the road to Kandi.

In the distance can be heard the sound of a chopper or something similar...

Dawn was looking on without saying anything.

City Hall

The door closed behind Joe as the old man exlaimed "Ah, see I was right he is a Vrakian Agent*...Now boy, don't get your whatever in a knot. Only the Vrakians tend to be intrested in this kind of thing and as good as you are..."

(*OOC: A complete and utter wild guess really, but he didn't react! It's a 'the dog didn't bark scenerio')

OOC: Is the old man still talking in Vrakian? If so, Joe will still play dumb, but if he’s speaking Alconian then…


Joe broke in, “Me? A Vrakian? I told the militia officer.. Sargent McLar I think, that my last commander officer was Captain Earl Johnston and I served in the 10th Militia.”

Joe thought to himself, the Alconians are watching us? We suspected that they have their spooks out here as well, but these diamonds must be a much bigger deal than they are willing to admit. Maybe they already found them.

The Lion

"That way ain't a place...now I can drive you the way ya just pointed but I don't suppose a young man such as yourself appreciates the value of a Krondor these days..."

There is no call to a dispatcher or anything. The man has gone to the major street intersection and is waiting for Gary to actually give him a location.

Gary pulled a 100 Kronor bill and put it on the dash, clearly visible to the driver.

“Ah…the final destination is down on Marble Avenue but I just want to drive around a bit and clear my head. Let’s go straight for now.”

OOC: When I drove taxi, we had a term for folks who weren’t exactly sure of their destination or just wanted to wander about for a bit. We called it “OC Drive” and it happened more than one might think. During this time, people figured taxi drivers were like bartenders or priests in that suddenly they wanted to bare their souls.


Sofie's

She gets up and looks at a map on the dining room wall.
"Base camp is going to be the woverine mining location, I've got off duty marines guarding it. Most fuel used out in the jungle is either alchol, kerosene, or desiel fuel. Any thing else, and your going to have to hump it out there. I'd suggest non-parisable rations, tents with misquito netting, and several bright lamps. Avoid flashy clothes and running around above a walk unprotected, unless you like being humped by a monkey"


Rick and Troy listened to Sophie.

“That sounds like a plan. We have five crew cab trucks at the office and with a camping unit on all of them we should be able to carry all of our guys and equipment. Maybe, say, two camping trunks and one supply truck should do the trick. I doubt any outfitters are open now but we do have an open account at one place. We’ll have to do an inventory check but I’m sure we’ll need more gear. Usually the jobs are close by and only for a few days. Plus the crew is maybe at the most 4 guys.”

Troy chipped in, “Oh yeah. The monkeys. You mean the homosexual monkeys eh? What kind of weapons can we bring along? I mean, isn’t there some kind of border checkpoint we have to cross?”

Argh. Double post.

The City Hall
OOC:Alconians speak English with a scottish accent, and odd german phrases on occasion...I'm going to assume that your people did find a person of that name in Blood Harbor...but then I'm going to apply a bit of a problem for you also...

Joe broke in, “Me? A Vrakian? I told the militia officer.. Sargent McLar I think, that my last commander officer was Captain Earl Johnston and I served in the 10th Militia.”

The old man waved his hands..."Ah, so your going to stick to that story...That you are Joe and not some nice Vrakian Agent? Then perhaps you would like to deal with the little matter of honor between yourself and Miss Lauson here..."

She smiles at him...

Gary and Marvin
"Your money sonney, just one question...left, right, or my choice? I'm not driving this old wreck down a staircase for a hundread..." The old man smiles back at him as he takes the bill.

OOC: Never had to drive a taxi, but then I grew up with the common occurance of T.O.A.D.s (Tourists On A Detour) who usually stopped in front of our place because they couldn't find the light house, (The large white thing in your rear veiw mirror!) And Cross Harbor isn't exactly a tourist destination. See the water filtration plant?

Sofie's

She laughs, "Ah it would be foolish for us to attempt to stop people from going into the jungle without arms...and since legally your all Vrakians anything an Alconian can carry you can also...The checkpoint is designed to monitor the people going into the jungle. And recouping the cost if we have to bury them..."

"I prefer to carry both a small grenade gun and a squad support rifle....between them I can usually deal with just about anything...although I have been wanting to try out one of these Kitties I've been hearing about..."

The Diablo Hotel
"No, my mom's from Narv-X. Hey, how do you guys cook the Hassen?"

City Hall

Joe looked at the woman and then at the old man.

“Could I talk to you privately, sir?”


Gary and Marvin

“Turn left, please,” said Gary.


OOC: Hmmm. The city that I drove cab in once boasted that it was “The Sewage Treatment Capital of Alberta”. How’s that for bringing in tourist dollars?


Sophie’s

Rick looked at Sophie questioningly, “A Kittie?”


Hotel Diablo

Frank looked at the young militia soldier and replied,

“Why, I didn’t know that the Hassen migrated far east to Narv-X. It’s imported though and it’s a treat to have one. I think my mother used to make sure to drain the glands that had the anti-coagulating saliva, else the flavor is ruined. Personally, I add a lot of garlic.”

OOC: Alright server let's see you eat this... :tantrum:

IC:
City Hall
The woman gives him an icy stare as she walks out the door behind him. The old man just looks at Joe with an expectant look on his face.

Gary and Marvin
The car turns left and crosses the bridge. In a few minutes the lights of town start to vanish and the night sky fills with a million points of light. The road turns to the right as fewer and fewer buildings can be seen. Soon the only lights that can be seen are the stars above, the van's one working headlight, and the glow of the radio in the dash.

Sophie

"Yes, the new Klaymore Kitty that came out recently. How else are people going to deal with the Crocs?"

The Diablo Hotel
"Ah well, too much garlic ruins the taste."

OOC: Will answer in a few hours. Gary is on the highway to hell it seems cuz the old man is really the devil and...
:D

Wombat News Report (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?p=2034141#2034141)

City Hall
The woman gives him an icy stare as she walks out the door behind him. The old man just looks at Joe with an expectant look on his face.


Joe looked at the old man and said,

“I really don’t know who she is. What’s your angle sir?”

Gary and Marvin

The car turns left and crosses the bridge. In a few minutes the lights of town start to vanish and the night sky fills with a million points of light. The road turns to the right as fewer and fewer buildings can be seen. Soon the only lights that can be seen are the stars above, the van's one working headlight, and the glow of the radio in the dash.

Gary said, “Ah, we can go back now to Marble avenue now.” Gary was, for the journey, trying to see if they were being followed. He wasn’t too keen on going out of the city proper and so he discreetly pushed a button on his phone – to act as a transmitter.

Hydra offices
A beep came. Then another…

“Tracking beacon activated.”
“Send out a team to get him.”
Two men silently departed.

Sophie’s

"Yes, the new Klaymore Kitty that came out recently. How else are people going to deal with the Crocs?"

Rick replied, “I honestly didn’t think about that. I think previous surveys did stay far from the rivers.” Troy, for his part, nodded at Sophie’s preparations.

The Diablo Hotel
"Ah well, too much garlic ruins the taste."

Frank smiled, “You’re right about that. Anything else I can help you with sir?”

(OOC) Sorry I havn't been posting I've actually run out of stuff for my heroes to do. When I think of something I'll post again.

OOC: I think Vrak is going to win by stanima...

IC:
City Hall

The old man states dryly..."If you are the person you claim to be, then you must know who she is and why you must meet her on the feild of honor."

Gary and Marvin
Marvin doesn't even slow down. He just turns onto a dirt track and keeps on driving....

Sophie's

She looks at them both as either being scared runts or paper pushers over their heads...she isn't sure which is correct...

"Well then, when do you wish to depart tommorrow..." is her reply.

The Diablo
"Oh, where are my manners...I was wondering why ISD was staked out in the room above yours..."

I can actually bump this???

Edit: Note this "gravedigging" is more for me to find some character refrences that I though I lost...I need to do some personal archiving in May...