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Prince Aladdin Quest (Disney Villains *Almost* Victorious)

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[X] Go to the Palace and speak to the Sultan's people and the rescued Sand Witch while having Iago sneak off to meet with your spies so as to get up-to-date information.
 
[X] Go to the Palace and speak to the Sultan's people and the rescued Sand Witch while having Iago sneak off to meet with your spies so as to get up-to-date information.

Okay changing to this now that I've been reminded that Sherlock already knows about the spies anyways.
 
[X] Send Iago off to notify Jasmine and The Sultan that you are here and need their help in sneaking into the palace without any servants noticing. Meanwhile you will rendezvous with the spies and collect the information they've gathered before going to meet Jasmine and The Sultan. Then, with the help of Mr. Holmes, hunt down the sand witches before they find out about your appearance in the city. Also tell Jasmine about the spies in the city when its convenient, trying to hide their existence will go poorly with Sherlock Holmes around so its best if Jasmine just hears about it from you.
 
[X] Send Iago off to notify Jasmine and The Sultan that you are here and need their help in sneaking into the palace without any servants noticing. Meanwhile you will rendezvous with the spies and collect the information they've gathered before going to meet Jasmine and The Sultan. Then, with the help of Mr. Holmes, hunt down the sand witches before they find out about your appearance in the city. Also tell Jasmine about the spies in the city when its convenient, trying to hide their existence will go poorly with Sherlock Holmes around so its best if Jasmine just hears about it from you.
 
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[X] Send Iago off to notify Jasmine and The Sultan that you are here and need their help in sneaking into the palace without any servants noticing. Meanwhile you will rendezvous with the spies and collect the information they've gathered before going to meet Jasmine and The Sultan. Then, with the help of Mr. Holmes, hunt down the sand witches before they find out about your appearance in the city. Also tell Jasmine about the spies in the city when its convenient, trying to hide their existence will go poorly with Sherlock Holmes around so its best if Jasmine just hears about it from you.
 
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    • Scheduled vote count started by TempestK on Aug 3, 2021 at 11:31 PM, finished with 31 posts and 24 votes.
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    The Warlock's Apprentice (Canon)
  • Sidestory
    • The Warlock's Apprentice​
    Milady De Winter breathed in the air of her homeland for the first time in who knows how many years and smiled despite herself. France wouldn't truly be home again until that wretched little excuse for a pope was dead and in the ground, but Milady would be remedying that issue shortly.

    But first, she needed to find her way to Notre Dame, a task made more difficult by the fact that Frollo must have adopted a new language for the city in her absence since the street signs were utter gibberish to her.

    She approached a little girl dressed in black and pale purple that seemed to be watching her for some reason.

    "Excuse me. Do you know how to get to Notre Dame cathedral? I've been away from the city for some time."

    The little girl smiled and replied, "Of course, Milady. It's right over there." She pointed right behind Milady and she suddenly saw it, rising up above the other buildings as if they were cowering in fear of the old and powerful cathedral.

    Milady nodded and replied, "Thank you," feeling somewhat foolish about somehow missing the cathedral when she was entering the city.

    She left the girl behind and walked up to one of the cathedral's massive doors, forcing it open with a single mighty push.

    She sauntered into the cathedral and saw Frollo, the architect of her most recent miseries, sitting on a throne as if he were a king.

    Without waiting a moment, the wretched toad of a man shouted, "Inquisitors! Kill her!"

    Suddenly, as if from nowhere, dozens of armed guards spilled out from the cathedral's halls and surrounded her. And with a flick of her wrist, Milady reduced them to so much ash.

    Silence reigned in the cathedral as all that remained were Milady, Frollo, and a little girl in black and purple watching from the eaves.

    Frollo opened his mouth to speak, but Milady crossed the room and grasped him by the throat.

    Milady lifted him up and rage filled her veins as she remembered escaping Athos and the rest of those idiot musketeers, only to find all of her estates vanished, and finding herself branded a "harlot" and a "temptress" upon her return to Paris. As if losing everything wasn't enough, Frollo had apparently decided that her "harlotry" was sufficient excuse to sic his inquisitors on her, leading to her long, horrifying stay in the faerie-infested woods. But now he was at her mercy.

    Her lips quirked upward and she started burning. The wretched troll in her grasp started to let out a silent scream of pain as his head started burning. Milady started to giggle madly, manic at the fact that this monster was finally dying by her hand. She wondered what those wretched musketeers would think of her-

    ◇◇◇​

    Milady was woken from her pleasant dream by the sound of a branch breaking in the forest. She held her breath, desperate not to attract the attention of whatever horror might be out there in the darkness.

    She scanned the dark woods surrounding the grotto where she'd made camp and didn't see anything. Of course, that didn't mean there was nothing there, but it did, unfortunately, mean that whatever it was, it probably wasn't something that should exist. That sound was far too close for a mere wolf or bear to have disappeared already.

    Milady forced a smile onto her face and went into a routine that she had developed from seeing the grisly fates of her previous traveling companions.

    She said loudly and clearly, "Ah, another wonderful day in this beautiful forest, it is such a shame that I will be departing for the Mirror Kingdoms soon," both flattering any irritable fae that may be nearby and emphasizing that she wouldn't be bothering them for much longer. She'd found that such an approach tended to appease the woods' more reasonable residents. And if whatever made that noise was one of the woods' less reasonable residents? Well, Milady didn't know what she'd do. She no longer had traveling companions to outrun.

    She waited for a few more tense, painful seconds before finally letting out a breath of relief. She wouldn't allow herself to become disrespectful, there was always something watching you in these woods, but if whatever was out there was some sort of faerie monster, it would have almost certainly attacked by now.

    She walked over to the spring which sat at the back of the grotto and splashed her face with the waters. She didn't trust the water of such a picturesque place to not turn her into a deer or something if she drank it, but she figured it was probably safe enough to freshen up with.

    Once she had washed out the dirt that her hair had accumulated while she slept, she looked at her reflection and scowled. She was still beautiful by most metrics and she was relatively sure she could still leverage her looks to obtain transportation to the capitol once she arrived in the Mirror Kingdoms, but it was clear that she had seen better days. She had bags under her eyes from having her sleep interrupted as it often was in this nightmarish place, her face had far too much filth caked onto it to clear without either product or far more time than she had available, and her hair was a frizzy mess only made somewhat better by the careful attention that Milady paid to it.

    She forced a smile on her face and said to herself, "Stay positive Milady, just another week or so and you'll be in the Mirror Kingdom," That she'd, mercifully, be out of the Faerie's territory in only two days was left unsaid, "Then you'll be able to get back everything that they've taken from you. After all, every kingdom needs spies."

    "Hmm? Do they really?"

    Milady nearly jumped out her skin and turned around to find a little girl with deathly pale skin and a black and purple dress floating directly across from her, blocking her exit from the grotto.

    It was a stupid move. In a different situation, it might have even gotten her killed or worse. But Milady was panicked, and in that panic, she lunged for the knife that she had left on the ground where she slept.

    The girl tossed a boomerang that, with unerring accuracy, swept up Milady's knife and brought it back to the girl, only just avoiding taking Milady's fingers with it.

    Milady turned towards the girl and held her breath in fear about what might soon happen to her for her transgression.

    The girl merely went, "Hmm, iron? I suppose it would be useful for some if this place's more humble denizens, but it really would just make the more dangerous ones mad."

    Milady forced her voice to remain steady and replied, "And would you be one of those dangerous ones?"

    The girl let out a laugh before replying, "Afraid not, I am but a humble sorcerer."

    Milady almost scoffed at the idea before realizing that she had spent the last week desperately trying to avoid and escape faeries. Why wouldn't sorcerers be a thing now?

    Milady gave the young-looking, she had no delusions that whatever was sitting in front of her was actually what it appeared, girl a smile and replied, "In that case, why don't you stay awhile. It's been some time since I've had company." She may not be a faerie, but unfailing politeness in the face of the supernatural had kept her alive this long.

    The girl quirked an eyebrow upward and replied, "Oh? What about that young lad that got turned into a bird yesterday?"

    Milady kept her face placid, even as she screamed internally. "So, you seem to know a lot about me. Why is it that you seem to doubt my plans?"

    The little girl replied, "Oh, it's just that I wonder if Grimhilde really needs spies, after all, her magic mirror makes spying on the citizenry so easy."

    That statement was nearly enough to break Milady's composure.

    The little girl clearly noticed and continued, "Oh yes, Grimhilde really has no need for professional spies does she? After all a mere look at her mirror and she can look in on any one of her citizens? Rather bests traditional spycraft, wouldn't you say?"

    Such a statement was enough to get Milady to ball her hands up into fists in an attempt to avoid showing her frustration more clearly.

    Suddenly, without seeming to have moved, the little girl appeared next to her and asked, "Of course that doesn't really matter does it?"

    Milady allowed herself to be startled at the sudden intrusion and asked, "What do you mean?"

    "Well, even if you did manage to secure employment with Grimhilde, and even if that was enough to get back everything that you lost, would you really be happy knowing that the man that cost you so much still ruled France. Especially considering how leaving men that have wronged you alive has worked out so far."

    Athos' image flashed in her mind and it was all Milady could do to avoid showing her rage on her face. She took a deep breath and replied, "And I assume you have a solution to that problem?"

    The little girl gave a wide smile and replied, "That I do," before floating away from Milady's side and landing in front of her.

    "While the upheaval has been better for me than it has been for others," she let out a spout of flame from her palm to emphasize the point, "I am still somewhat… diminished shall we say. Of course, I do have a plan to fix this."

    "And where do I enter this plan?"

    "There's only so much that I can do on my own. My current form works against me in particular when it comes to securing some of the resources I need."

    Milady nodded, she could imagine people that hadn't been subjected to the faerie taking the girl's form at face value.

    "So, if you just come with me, I can guarantee you power, more than enough to destroy this Frollo fellow."

    Milady was struck by the thought that this was all insane. Just a few weeks ago she was performing espionage for one of the world's strongest kingdoms. Now, she was contemplating learning magic from a little girl she met in the forest.

    But what choice did she have? She had clearly made a mistake when she allowed Athos to live after what he'd done to her. She wouldn't make the same mistake with Frollo.

    Milady shook the girl's hand and could feel that something had changed with that action.

    The girl smiled and said, "Splendid!" before turning around and telling Milady, "Follow, I know a safe path out of these woods."

    "And where are we going?" Milady asked, already following her new teacher.

    "To Corona!" The girl exclaimed, "I need to learn the whereabouts of a certain flower."

    Milady kept her mouth shut about the ridiculousness of crossing Europe on foot for the sake of a flower, it was almost certainly magic and powerful and she'd just have to accept that that was a thing now, but she did realize she was missing a crucial piece of information. "And what is it that I should call you?"

    The girl giggled before replying, "Oh, how rude of me. Zhan Tiri at your service."
     
  • Sidestory
    • Alchemist767676 said:
    The Warlock's Apprentice​
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Excellently done! Take 8 XP for the great omake, as well as canon status!

    Edit: Milady is likely the first viable tool that the Alchemist has been able to come across that wasn't already laid claim to by Maleficent and Grimhilde, and she doesn't have access to Cass. Unfortunately, Milady is also going to be much, much harder to manipulate.
     
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    Never Again (Canon)
  • Sidestory
    • Never Again​

    Amos Slade felt his back twinge and his knees groan as he slowly made his way back up the winding trail to the top of the cliff. Between almost getting killed by that grizzly bear, stepping in one of his own traps (nearly breaking his ankle in the process), and the sheer fear and tension he'd felt watching that blasted fox and his beloved hound try their best to fight the damned thing, it had been a difficult day.

    A part of him had been awestruck by the gumption of the fox to bait the bear onto that log and trick it into falling to its death in the water below. Not enough to keep him from putting a bullet through its head once he had caught up with it at the base of the waterfall, but there was a respect that had not been there before between him and the fox. Now all he had to do was get back to Copper and bring him home to heal up...

    Oh. Oh, no. Nonononono. The old man fell to his knees by the young bloodhound, and a groan of anguish that had nothing to do with the pain in his legs came from deep within his chest. "Oh, Copper," Slade whispered as he patted his faithful hound on the head. Even that gentle gesture elicited a whimper of pain from Copper. It would have been louder, but the crushed ribs from where the grizzly had slammed him with one massive paw kept Copper from making more than the shallowest of breaths.

    "Not you too," Amos groaned. His older dog Chief had been killed when the fox had lured him onto the train tracks and gotten him hit by a train. It had been his main motive for the lengths Amos had gone to catch the fox once and for all. He'd accomplished his goal, but the cost had been too high.

    Far, far too high.

    Shakily pulling himself to his feet, Amos gripped his shotgun with trembling hands. He knew what needed to be done, but he wasn't sure he would have the strength to do it.

    But he owed it to Copper. The pup didn't deserve to die in agony, drowning in his own blood.

    Reloading the pump-action shotgun, he racked a shell into the chamber with a click-clack. Old fingers tightened on the trigger.

    "Goodbye, Copper," he said, quietly.

    BANG

    ~~~

    A week later, Amos Slade sat in a rocking chair on the front porch of his shack, mangled leg bound up and settling on a stool. His shotgun lay across his lap. Eyes that were still keen kept a close watch over the front of his property, although they shut with a wince as they passed over the three newly-dug graves over by where Copper had slept in his barrel. One for Chief, one for Copper, and one for that blasted fox. After the stunt it had pulled with the bear, he had to admit that he owed it at least that much.

    Since the earthquake and storm that had occurred just before the encounter with that bear, the woods had become an unfamiliar place. A dangerous one, in his estimation. The wildlife had grown either skittish or vicious; the reason he was on the porch in the first place was to keep an eye out for any attacking critters. He'd loaded his shotgun with alternating slugs and buckshot for precisely that reason, and had a bevy of dangerous wildlife hanging up in his barn as proof that both were needed.

    A droning noise caught his attention, and Slade looked up into the sky to see a giant airship approaching the clearing to the south of his cabin. He made no effort to move; after losing both Chief and Copper in such close succession, he found that his mental energy had mostly disappeared. He wasn't going to just lie down and die - he was too onry for that - but neither could he find it in himself to care just what happened to him.

    That being said, he couldn't help but perk up slightly at the sound of hounds barking over where the airship had landed. It had dogs aboard? Odd choice of space, but then again who was he to judge?

    "Halloo the house!" came the voice of a man just down the drive. Amos sat up straight, but said nothing, merely clutching his shotgun tighter.

    A tall, thin man came into view, passing by the cluster of trees just to the left of the drive. He was dressed in a dapper fashion, reminding Amos of the way city-folk would dress themselves on the rare occasion he visited the big city. A long leather coat concealed a wiry frame, and a scoped hunting rifle was slung over his shoulder. To Amos's surprise, a sword was sheathed at his waist.

    "Hallo!" the man called again. "I know someone's home, I could see the smoke from your chimney as I flew overhead!"

    "Whaddya want?" Slade asked gruffly, in no mood for company.

    The man turned to face him, revealing the profile of an older gentleman with a thin mustache. A smile crossed his face, one not returned by Slade. "Ah, there you are!" he said cheerfully. "The name's Muntz, Charles Muntz. And you are, sir?"

    "Ain't no sirs around here, Mr. Muntz. You can call me Slade." Amos continued rocking on his chair and made no move to get up to greet him.

    Muntz's eyes flicked down to Slade's injured leg. After a moment of thought, he asked "Caught by your own trap?"

    Slade's brows raised, impressed in spite of himself by the accuracy of the man's observation. "You could say that," he answered.

    Muntz spoke slowly. "I am something of a man of medicine," he said. "Might I help you? Given recent events, I have no doubt that you have been unable to find any proper care for your injury."

    "Ain't got money to pay for a doctor," Slade said curtly.

    "Ah, but that's where you are in luck!" Muntz said with a grin. "For I do not seek money, but instead companionship!"

    This time Slade couldn't help but let out a short laugh. "Sorry, sonny, don't swing that way."

    "Excuse me? I-" Muntz realized at the last moment what Slade meant. "Oh, I can assure you that my intentions are entirely platonic in nature. For you see, I represent a coterie of sorts, a burgeoning club of men and women devoted to the challenge of hunting and trapping. We've been picking up worthy candidates during our travels, and when we saw your home down below, I decided to take a gamble and approach you regarding potential membership." In a less jovial tone, Muntz continued, "with that being said, it's become quite dangerous as of late. Even if you do not desire to join our club, we could at the very least drop you off somewhere less isolated than," he gestured broadly, "here."

    Slade shook his head. "Sorry, sonny, but I get the feeling that you don't need a crotchety old man who can't even keep himself in dogs. And I'm pretty happy here as is. So you can just get back to your big ol' balloon and-"

    A crashing sound from the back of Slade's shack interrupted him before he could work himself up into a good rant. The rumbling roar that accompanied it caused Slade's face to go white.

    "No...it can't be…" he whispered as he swiftly hefted himself up onto one foot, shotgun at the ready. Behind him, Muntz unslung his own rifle and held it in his hands.

    But it was. As he poked his head through the front door, he could see the bedraggled figure of the bear that had come this close to killing him - had killed Copper. Remarkably, it had survived the fall down the waterfall, and it was here to finish what it had started.

    He did notice one difference, though; where the bear's eyes had been a deep brown before, now they glowed red, like embers in a fire.

    "ANOTHER BEAR?!" he could hear Muntz complain behind him. Slade tuned out the city-slicker's moaning and quickly fired a shot right into the bear's face - and spat out a vile oath as it turned out to be buckshot, not the slug he thought was in the chamber. The bear roared in irritation and pain, and started lumbering towards the door, smashing everything in its path as it did so.

    Muntz's rifle cracked, and a heavy bullet smashed the left forepaw, causing the bear to stumble and fall onto the floor. Slade didn't give it a chance to recover; quickly racking the slide, he stepped closer until the barrel was almost touching the bear's forehead. A swift pull of the trigger, and the bear was dead, a three-ounce lead slug accomplishing what birdshot and a fall from a cliff had failed to do.

    "That was for Copper," he spat at the bear's corpse.

    "Excellent shot," Muntz said. "Even with your leg the way it is. Who was Copper?"

    Slade paused for a moment and swallowed. "...he was my dog." he answered, quietly.

    "Oh." There was silence for a few seconds. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

    "Thanks," Slade replied. He didn't trust himself to say any more than that.

    Muntz stepped inside Slade's shack and looked over the wreckage of the back wall and the smashed furniture. "...are you sure you don't want to come with us?" he asked.

    "Eh, what the hell. Help me collect my tools and supplies, and butcher this bear, and I'll come with you." He looked around sadly. "Not as if there's anything else keeping me here."

    Muntz patted Slade on the shoulder. "That won't be a problem." Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a radio. "Alpha! Bring the others and a team. We have a new recruit, and a large kill to process."

    "Yes, Master!" came the staticky reply.

    "Master?" Slade asked, one brow raised in inquiry.

    Muntz grinned. "You'll see."

    ~~~

    Slade sat down heavily on his seat. To his side, Muntz was laughing his head off.

    "Talking dogs?" he asked faintly.

    Through his guffaws, Muntz managed to answer. "Yes, thanks to my translation collars, they can speak in any language I have programmed into them!" He looked all too pleased, both by his achievement and Slade's reaction. He quieted down, though, as he saw moisture come to Slade's eyes. Said eyes were looking over at the three graves by the barrel.

    "Oh." Suddenly shame-faced, Muntz took a few steps backward. "Um...I'll be inside, helping McLeach and Fergus with that bear, I guess."

    Slade nodded faintly, eyes still on Muntz's pack of hounds that were working together to bring his various tools from his barn and stacking them neatly in the driveway.

    "What I wouldn't give…"

    Amos Slade​

    Martial: 10 (Amos is a scrappy old man, and what he lacks in skill he makes up for in tenacity and sheer dogged determination.)

    Stewardship: 8 (Amos ran a successful trapping line and turned a profit more often than not.)

    Diplomacy: 6 (The cantankerous old man possesses a volcanic temper and an imaginative usage of profanity, but can on rare occasions be polite.)

    Intrigue: 12 (Amos is not particularly trained in the art of the sneak, but possesses a decent understanding of bushcraft and can go unseen with ease - when he deigns to shut his mouth, at any rate.)

    Learning: 8 (Amos never completed high school, and is largely self-taught with most of his skills.)

    Occult: 5 (Amos doesn't even know how to spell 'seance', let alone ever attended one. That being said, the things he's seen whilst aboard The Spirit of Adventure have left him willing to at least consider the paranormal as an explanation, and is rather superstitious to boot.)

    Traits:

    "Hillbilly Huntsman" - Amos Slade is what one might consider the quintessential hillbilly. He's not very bright, doesn't like reading, and prefers a mug of beer to a glass of champagne. Even so, he has his strengths. Amos gains +20 Learning when training hunting dogs, and +10 when working on simple machinery (he kept his old truck running by himself for years) and on matters regarding outdoors survival and practical skills. He gains +10 to rolls when hunting beasts, and +20 when setting traps. His weapon of choice is a pump-action Remington 12-gauge, and grants him +10 Martial when battling man and beast alike. Finally, as a result of his experience as a fur trader, he gains +15 Stewardship when processing and selling hides and trophies.

    "Simple Country Folk" - Amos never spent much time around the big cities; doesn't like them, doesn't like the people who frequent them. He suffers -5 Diplomacy when around people he considers his social betters, which is most of the passengers aboard The Spirit of Adventure. Conversely, he gains +10 Diplomacy when dealing with other country folk. That bonus is boosted to +20 if he gets the chance to share his homemade moonshine with those who appreciate it.

    "Bears Are Bad News" - Amos holds a special enmity against bears, and gains +5 to all rolls when hunting bears in particular.

    "Never Again" - Amos lost two of the best dogs he's ever had; he'll not let another dog fall under his watch if he can help it. Amos gains +10 Martial when defending a dog.

    "Master of Hounds" - Amos and Charles Muntz have bonded over their mutual appreciation of dogs, and Muntz has given Amos the role of Master of Hounds in their merry little band of misfits. Amos gains +5 Martial and +15 Intrigue when using hounds to track prey, and can add his Learning score and perks to that of Charles when training new dogs or teaching new tricks to the old ones. He also helps Charles keep The Spirit of Adventure running, as the engines aren't that dissimilar to what Amos is used to with his old truck.
     
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  • Sidestory
    • The Young Man and the Sea (Non-canon)
  • Sidestory
    • The Young Man and the Sea​

    (Ernest POV)

    The Sea is in and of itself a mirror to the self and the world. That was why you were off to ruin the tranquility of nature on a bet.

    Of course the boss didn't like the men taking such risks. But if you were going to be a pirate you might as well act like it.

    It had been Jacopo's idea primarily because it had been a slow couple of months and you were tired of eating tuna. What sane captain forces men to eat tuna for so long?

    Alas, such a thing was filled with danger. But what was life if not filled with peril?

    Certainly not one worth living. Still, it was a surprise to see a man walk out from a book and into life. A dream if you hadn't gotten press ganged so rudely.

    Still, it was something worth doing. Being a pirate was not on your bucket list but one must roll with the punches. You had not asked to be carried back in time from your duties as an ambulance driver. Falling in with Luigi Vampa and his gang had been fun but unexpected. He was a good boss though and you enjoyed getting to see so much of the Mediterranean. Working with the Sinbad the Sailor was just the cherry on the sundae.

    "And now we wait," you said as you prepared your fishing pole and rifle.

    "HEMINGWAY!! What are you doing?! You aren't paid to lounge like a whore on holiday!" And there was Vampa.

    "Shark fishing. Need some action to break the monotony, it drives a man mad," you replied.

    "Have you double-checked the bilge?" Vampa started acting like a chastising father.

    "And killed some rats and left them to dry in the kitchen."

    "The sails have been double knotted to catch the wind?" Vampa asked.

    You motioned to the set of knots on the side you were on. He was being typical today.

    "Done...and I even tarred the ropes. Everything's done boss. I wanted to help bolster our diet with something a bit more exotic," you answered.

    "Since you've kept yourself ahead today you can carry on, but should any trouble be your fault... Well, you already have four scars to prove it." Vampa said in a low tone.

    He wanted to make sure you knew who was in charge. At least he was upfront about what he was.

    Now the wait...begins.

    ------------------

    And the wait carried on for over two hours. Crowds gathered and dispersed at a pace that each carried its own emotion.

    One was terror and another was scorn. But there was curiosity in each eye that followed.

    "You aren't catching a damn thing Ernesto." one of them had said.

    You threw in a bit of chum, baiting it. "Yeah, watch this."

    Holding the rifle in one hand and the rod in the other, you waited for one more moment.

    Then the pull of the wave came.

    The loud crash had startled you.

    But you saw your prize. And fired.

    Then you went overboard as the crew screamed bloody murder.

    Shit...
    ------------------------

    The damned thing had a hell of a grip on the line. That was the only compliment you wanted to give it.

    Your arms pushed up trying to have you break water and get to air. But it kept pulling down trying to get you to drown with the undertow.

    So he wanted you to cower and drown, did he?

    You barely broke the surface and gulped as big a breath of air as you could.

    And then pulled free your knife. The sting of seawater burned your eyes as you tried to force them open.

    Face me Man to Monster!!

    And it did. It charged you as you hit it once with your trench-knife's brass knuckle and you swore you hit it where the hook had dug into it.

    It recoiled back in pain as you forced your way up to the surface as fast as you could.

    You saw the rope and climbed it.

    "Ernesto!!" Vampa shouted. "What the hell happened?!"

    "That one didn't want to be eaten sir." you said with a cocky smile that could charm the devil.

    "Two day's scrubbing the deck for you. Lost a pole and some lines." Vampa stopped. "It's coming out of your share."

    "Put it with the rest of my tabs." you started.

    Your grin then began to beam brightly. "Hand it over guys. I won." you said as the crew started to mumble.

    One by one, the crew each grabbed a coin and put it in his hand.

    Nearly the entire crew had handed off a piece of wealth to you as Vampa looked at you.

    He was dumbfounded. "You survived a brush with death, a dance with the reaper? Why are you smiling and wealthy?"

    It was the sort of question only amateurs asked, so obvious it hurt, "Isn't it obvious sir? I bet against myself."

    Vampa almost cracked a smile at that. "Make yourself seem to do the impossible on a regular basis and yet you want to lose."

    "What's life without a little bit of surprise? I caught a shark, I just couldn't keep it, now if I kept it I'd have to pay up to them." you said.

    "So you cheated them?" Vampa said.

    "I didn't cheat, I merely failed to succeed in what I could do by an outside force, namely the shark itself." you said.

    Vampa grunted. "You played them for fools, Ernesto, they won't forget that."

    "Nor will I forget this brush with death, hmm, would have done something similar during the war anyway." you finished.

    "Well, what are you going to do with your ill gotten earnings?" Vampa said.

    "I'm going to write a book. And I found the perfect title for it." you said.

    "Hmm?" Vampa scoffed.

    "The Young Man and The Sea."


    Martial: 10 (Ernest spent much of his childhood hunting and fishing and is an excellent shot; he also survived two months in Italy as an ambulance driver in WWI before the Upheaval. He was also a good athlete and practiced in a number of sports.)
    Stewardship: 5 ("Calm and carefully considered husbanding of resources" is not a phrase that could be used to describe Ernest's fiscal priorities.)
    Diplomacy: 9 (Charming and capable of a keen turn of phrase, Ernest is still young and rather naive, having yet to experience the events that turned him into such a cynic later in life.)
    Intrigue: 8 (His bushcraft is pretty good, but Ernest's knowledge of actual spying has mostly been derived from novels. Which is to say, it is subpar.)
    Learning: 12 (Ernest worked as a cub reporter after graduating high school and before enlisting in the Red Cross, and is a knowledgeable and capable writer.)
    Occult: 4 (Ernest has made no formal study of the occult, but his experiences following the Upheaval have made him rather open-minded as to what is possible.)

    Traits:

    "Nascent Writer" - Ernest is a genuinely talented author and researcher, but has had as of yet little actual experience in doing so on a professional scale apart from a six-month stint as a cub reporter for the Kansas City Star. Still, this is the man who would go on to redefine an entire genre of literature and win the Nobel Prize for the same. He gains +10 to all rolls when writing, and a further +5 when actively working to improve his skills in the same.

    "Across the River and into the Trees" - Ernest grew up in a family that valued outdoor skills, and from an early age he learned how to hunt, fish, and camp. He is a genuinely skilled and passionate outdoorsman, and gains +15 to all rolls involving outdoors survival skills and plain living. (This includes hunting, fishing, camping, navigation, boating, and crafting.)

    "An Obstreperous Soul" - Ernest was notoriously contrary and fiercely independent, and chafes under external restrictions upon his actions and movement; he suffers a -7 Diplomacy malus when forced to do something, gains +2 to rolls when being contrary, and if working on national actions, cannot be assigned to the same category more than once in a given year. If assigned anyway, roll a d3; on a 1 or 3, he will refuse to do it and perform a random Personal instead.

    AN: I would like to thank @TirelessTraveler for helping me get the Charecter Sheet and the Hemingway style down, because it took me a minute.

    Thanks,

    Enjoy.
     
    Last edited:
  • Sidestory
    • Reading about Copper, Chief, and co... it hurt.
    Then I remembered Vicky. She survived that, didn't she?

    Also, this is making me wonder about how Balto might have played out. Steele is an absolute scumbag, but I can't quite see a DV(A)V ending that quite fits for that?
     
    Something to think about, if you'd like to

    The Prince Of Persia could exist in this setting. But you wanna know what else could?

    The Thief & The Cobbler.
     
    Hey guys, another quick update. Things are still heavily in flux for me not only on the job front but now also on the housing front thanks to a shady landlord. Coupled with AC that's still broken, and it's kind of hellish right now, and my muse is currently sitting in a corner with a shotgun daring me to come near them. So it may be a bit before the next update. In brighter news however, DaOneInDaCorner is done with Basic and has two weeks of AIT and then they'll be back again!
     
    Lifeandlice said:
    I don't actually know what this is, got any info?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    It's a rather infamous movie and one of the premier examples of development hell.

    It had like a thirty (I don't remember the actual amount) year development and has some of the most intricate hand drawn animated scenes ever.

    Aladdin stole various ideas and imagery from it and thief and the cobbler stole various ideas and imagery right back after Aladdin released.

    It's not a terrible movie and the history behind it is fascinating.
     
    The plot for that part of the movie is that any kingdom possessing those three gold balls can't be beaten.

    They were stolen from the good city earlier and the Jafar equivalent gave them to the evil war machine people.

    The thief has no impulse control whatsoever and MUST try to steal them leading to that animated scene there.

    Then there is the entire other half of the movie where the Aladdin equivalent (the cobbler) goes on a quest for help, gets a vague prophecy type thing, and kicks off the whole self destruction of the war machine army by shooting a tack at them.

    Weird, weird movie. The thief is the best part.
     
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