As you attempt to disengage, politely nodding at the swamp man's bellyaching while stepping off from Mud Town, you find you backpedal straight into another large individual, similarly dressed, looking down at you like he just stepped on an insect. This is starting to look pretty bad for you now. TO: Scurl, you wouldn't believe it. We found a nice young man, well skilled with the doctoring, wouldn't you guess it? TS: Onk, you sure he's not trying to run off from our nice little village now? TO: A good doctor wouldn't turn away people in need, would he? Come on in doc, we'll negotiate your employment contract. TS: Whose to say he won't just decide to run off from his obligations, Onk? TO: Terrible things happen to doctors without protection out in the swampland. TS: What kinda things, Onk? What happens to little doctors what try to squirm away? TO: They say bandits break their legs and toss them outside for the blood spiders to eat. Nasty way to go, isn't it Scurl? TS: You know its a terrible way to go, Onk. How about we show you inside where its safe, doc?
You are led to the nearby clinic's lobby, the preservation pod quietly hums with its contents in stasis, the vendor buzzing with electricity as the internal lights struggle, and the Twinblade gangster who escorted you there closes the doors on you, telling you that "You work for Doc Chung now, so get to work or its the chop shop, got it?" Before you could even ask questions about the chop shop, the scorched walks out, leaving you alone.
Peering outside the window in the lobby, you are greeted by a scorched member of the Twinblades, the one who showed you to your new clinic. He politely informs you that he placed a significant amount of money on you attempting to escape a few days from now, and to step away from the door if you like having fingers. Discouraged, you chide yourself, of course there's security. But at least you know they're keeping an eye on you now.
You take a look at the diagram on the wall, getting an idea of the layout of your new lodgings. The top of the map is torn away, but it looks like there's a staircase on the second level, so maybe there's a roof you can escape from? It might be a good idea to find Doctor Chung, get a read on him.
At least you know he's a man of the faith. Even in a dismal situation like this, you feel a sense of relief knowing that Okran is here with you. You mutter a quick prayer, and hope that Suki and Kiyoshi are doing alright. You don't know where they are, but hopefully the situation is better than this.
Heading into the primary hallway and then up the stairs, you find the hallway for the second floor, with the admin room, some big metal boxes, the door that leads to the break room, and stairs leading to the third floor you assume. You have no idea what the boxes are, never saw them in The Hub. >SWITCHING FROM PLAYER 02 to PLAYER 08
You are Kiyoshi, man of scorched blood and citizen of the Holy Nation. Former citizen at least, until you were enslaved. Now you're a Shinobi Ninja, smuggling hash and losing some along the way every time. But smoking it always seems to make things work out for you, so why stop now?
Hmm, the bland new guy, right... he seemed alright, if a bit fresh. Probably eaten by spiders or kidnapped by bandits by now. You don't know why he didn't head straight for Shark otherwise. Hopefully things work out for him. If not, these things happen a lot in this world. Sucks to suck you suppose.
Oh yeah, the shipment! You picked that up already, twenty-one kilograms of sweet sticky hashish, ready to smoke up! Nice payday, even with the Shinobi Thieves fee taken out when you arrive at the buyer in the United Cities... they wouldn't miss one kilo right? Suki isn't even here right now, every time you go to Shark she loves to visit the Holy Nation's embassy and harass the diplomat they have stationed there. Some rivalries die hard.
The innkeeper assured you that this place had no bugs in it. Except the stickmen, the blood spiders, the maggots, the dragonflies, and beetles, but most of those are ingredients in the kitchen and one of them works in the kitchen. The food here is a real nice change of pace from the Border Zone.
>SWITCHING FROM PLAYER 08 to PLAYER 02
You went into the break room, and found it had beds and footlockers, so it seems more like a dormitory. You also found a nice coat all folded up. Putting it on, you feel somewhat more presentable. You put away your dried meat, papers, tools, the old man's ceramic bowl, and the sword. But seeing as you're in a hospital, you decided to keep the nice prosthetic arm and the first aid kit with you. Can't go wrong with bandages, disinfectant and painkillers. What's more, you have the skill to actually use it, so it should last awhile as long as you aren't wasteful. Now, what to do next?
Trying to fix up the coat to be more presentable, you knock on the door, and hear the sudden sound of glass being shattered. "AWAY YA DAMN VULTURES! THERe'S NoTHiN LEFT! NAUghT tA TAkE!"Silence, before the voice continues. "I dO'n got what you WANT! Jus' leave me BE!"
DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK, I BEEN HERE FO(u)R (months)
You explain to whoever is on the other side, that you aren't with the Twinblades Gang, that you're a medical professional whose been kidnapped under threat of being killed really painfully. You put what's left of your Cats into the big red box to then try and offer him some refreshments. What comes out of the machine is a metal cylinder, it feels cold and heavy. Something sloshes inside, and you wonder what it could be. jumboHands [JH] snaps at loneWanderer [LW] for wandering on his lonesome into a trap like a moron! JH: Listen, scab. You're not going to last here unless you listen to me and listen well. JH: This is not a proper hospital like you might see in the Holy Nation. This is a chop shop. JH: Forget any chirurgeon's oath you took in the holy land, any personal ethics or creed you might hold. JH: You will be worked to the bone by these goons. They'll still smash up your practice, steal your tools, and demand more organs despite that. JH: Eventually they'll contrive a reason to take you to the butcher's table and replace you with another helpless migrant. JH: If you're smart, you'll keep your head down. Maybe another gang will take over this mud pile, and you'll have a chance to leg it. He snatches the strange cylinder from your hands, pulling some sort of switch on the top before bringing it to his lips with a bitter expression. He's an old man, in a strange outfit you've sure as hell never seen before. He looks like he's weighed down by life and the mounting weight of contempt.
