You limped back to your home, a run down shack you had constructed out of some salvaged wooden planks, sheet metal, and, to keep it dry, a tarp, crawling into your bed, assembled mostly from straw and some fur you had managed to collect over the years, as you flopped down to rest.
Where had it gone wrong, you wondered? The only forgery you had sold to the Sisterhood had been an Idol of Gork, and you had made sure it was perfect, flawless. It probably would have fooled (most) orks! Spitting some blood out of your mouth, you decided, hesitantly, to file away that question for later.
For now, you had to figure out how the hell you were going to make enough money to even begin to pay off that debt: you were lucky if a dig went for a hundred thrones! Most of the time, you only got roughly twenty or thirty: enough to pay for food and MAYBE put away one or two away for a rainy day.
Speaking of...
You turned, reaching under your bed, pulling out a green bag: a squig leather pouch. In it was the sum total of your life savings. Looking in, you counted up what you had...
And were disappointed to realize that the grand total of your lifes savings was fucking five hundred throne. Enough to maybe buy a truck or shuttle, maybe, or a particularly nice gun. Not enough to pay back the debt. Not nearly enough: distantly, you wondered what the Sisters had done that had been capable of putting them in the hole for ten thousand.
It kept coming back to that, didn't it? What had they done? How had they figured it out? Above you, you heard the telltale drip drip drip of water. Rain then.
Well. At least you were somewhere dry.
...A droplet of water fell on your face, and you let out a silent scream.
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Groggily, you opened your eyes and began hoisting yourself up. Good news was, you had hardly been rained on. Bad news was, you hurt like hell. Gingerly, you checked to see if you were still broken.
...A wince of pain proved that you were, albeit less severe. You let out a short, sharp breath, before waddling to the door. Right, first, get patched up properly. Then figure out what you were going to do. The obvious solution was to go on more digs, but that wouldn't even begin to make a big enough dent in your debt to avoid getting finger-chopped, let alone actually pay off the damn thing.
You needed to find a big score, and fast.
You have 4 AP. All actions unless stated otherwise cost 1 AP.
You have 500 Thrones. Must have at least 750 Thrones in five turns.
[ ] Rumor Mongering: There was always something going on in the Shanties. Maybe if you actually tried listening to the rumors, you could find a potential good score. However, it would cost at least some Thrones to loosen lips... Cost: 25 Thrones. Reward: Gain access to this turns Rumor Mill. Potential leads to a Big Score. Gain Streetwise skill progress.
[ ] Do Some Digging (No not that kind): You need to probably know just how the hell the Sisterhood figured out that you had sold them a fake: if it turned out that someone had ratted on you or if there was a flaw with your forgeries, you needed to know, ASAP. Cost: 50 Thrones. Reward: Information, can perform Forgery actions again. Gain Investigate skill progress.
[ ] Network: You were going to need...'friends', if you want to make a big score. You loathed to do it, but you'd need to start playing nice with people... Cost: 25 Thrones. Reward: Select one group below. Gain information, potential contacts, potential jobs related to the selection. Gain Networking skill progress.
-[ ] Sharkyz Boys: One of the gangs of the shanty, and the only gang strong enough to directly rival the Sisterhood, the enigmatic Sharky was never, ever seen in person...but his people liked to congregate at specific bars, and Sharky himself was well known for his love of Orkish artefacts (indeed, some people had accused Sharky of being a closet Digga...and the gang boss had responded by feeding the offenders to a starved ork the gang boss had captured to use as a pit fighter). If you could make in-roads with the gang...
-[ ] Sisterhood: The other major gang of the shanties, the Sisterhood was infamous for their brutality towards those who had displeased them. That said, they weren't without their virtues: they made sure their people were well fed, operating one of the only functional farms in the Shanty. They were currently pissed as hell at you. However, if you managed to get some contacts, it would potentially give you some opportunities to manage your debt.
-[ ] Elocutors: The local hand of the faith, they largely didn't care about the Outskirts. You knew of exactly one chapel in the shanty, though from what you heard elsewhere they had more presence in the other, slightly less terrible shanties. Still, having even limited contacts with the mainstream church
-[ ] Rats: Not everyone could join a gang or find a racket. Even among the poor, there were those who were even poorer. Mutants, madmen, the diseased, habitual cannibals. The Rats came in all shapes, sizes, and sins, and there was very much something to be said for courting them: after all, one rarely paid attention to a passing mouse...
-[ ] Artefact Hawkers: Your, ugh...'peers'. You didn't get along with them and the feeling was mutual. Still, if you wanted to find a big score, this was the obvious solution. You'd have to swallow your distaste, however, and pray they were willing to tolerate you for longer than ten minutes.
[ ] Go A-Hunting: It was a desperate idea, but you could make some money by hunting Orks. There was always a bounty for the damn things, and it paid fairly well...were it not for the inherent danger of it. Cost: High chance of injury, almost certain chance of stress gain. Reward: Minimum 25 Thrones, random combat skill increase. Can be taken more than once.
[ ] Scout Out Orkium: Even worse, and unlikely to provide dividends, you could visit one of the closer Orkiums. They're mostly tapped out, but you could get lucky and find something worth a few Thrones. Cost: Guaranteed injury and stress gain. Reward: Small amount of Survey progress, small amount of Aptitude progress, random but small amount of Thrones, very small potential chance for rare salvage.