Adventurers Unlimited - The Factory Job IC

[Commander Kalic]

Welcome to Arixe, city of industrial splendor

The self-proclaimed Jewel of the northern lands. A gleaming example of the age of advancement, its walls are high and durable, its buildings sturdily made and are wonderful examples of modernist construction, is people generally hard working and dedicated. Walking through the streets of the market district you would notice the wonderful mix of people and buildings, all melding together into an eye pleasing concoction. The air is polluted and the streets are clean, people are satisfied with their lot in life, but this is only scraping the surface of the city.

When you move east through the city you will find yourself in the Black district, the industrial center, home to those who work the factories or prey of those that do. Here the air is filled with acrid smoke spewing from the factories and soot and grime coat the buildings and people. He place partically reeks of the corruption and destitution as gangs vie for control and people work themselves to near death to provide for their families. Here the societal rejects take shelter, half-orcs and those who have disgraced themselves hide in the showy allies and back streets, keeping away from the prying eyes but always searching with their own. These conditions are enabled by those who practically own the city, the denizens of downtown.

The seat of Arixe’s power, downtown is visually stunning, towers reaching high above the ground, monuments mark the area and elven gardens and high born clubs are found across the area, where their members meet to escape form the everyday. The roads are dominated by luxury cars and the special “civic guard” whose job is to keep the place safe for the upper class members of society by removing any “dangerous riff-raff” from the other districts. The people of down town live separate from the problems of the city generally though now the issues are starting to creep in on them.

For reasons unknown, the workers are disappearing form the city is leaving the city. Entire buildings full of lower class humans, dwarves, and gnomes are packing their bags and leaving without a word to their friends or bosses. Their vacancies are quickly being filled by half-orcs, goblins, and some rather undesirable characters whose actions have alarmed the other locals. People are becoming confused and worried as to what is happening though only few have had the means to actually to investigate it. One of those is a small time factory called Hendrick’s Motors. They have gone to and contracted small time guild named Adventures Unlimited. The amount that could be paid to the guild was only enough to warrant a team of new recruits who are now being called to the guild’s compound in the Market district for their briefing.


“Conference Room” Adventures Unlimited HQ, Market district, 14:00
Verrick sat in a dark conference room (more like a repurposed storage room really). Sitting in one of the metal folding chairs around the camp table that was currently covered in dossiers on the prospective scrubs (the term meaning rookies who still had the freshly scrubbed look one them) he was thinking about what he had done to land him here. Looking back it probably wasn’t the best idea to lead an assault on what he thought (and still claims to be) an orc stronghold and turned out to be commune of nature lovers.

Needless to say the experience set him back in the eyes of company’s leaders. So here he is, sitting in a poorly lit room with nothing but a dozen manila file folders as company wondering when the first of the new team was going to walk through the door. To pass the time he picked up a folder and leafed through it, skimming and looking up to check the time impatient to get hit meeting started.

[Kadaeux]

Erik Gundrik walked in standing head and shoulders above most humans the Conference Room's ceiling brushed against the top of his head. The duffel bag in which he carried his weapons when not on the job slung against his back as he looked around.

The thick air was cloying and slightly smoky and he moved forwards examining the seats before picking one, reversing it and sitting down before lighting a thick cigar. He nodded at the man towards the end of the room.

Erik found himself quite curious about the mission as he took out a combat blade and began trimming his fingernails. His hands were heavily scarred from years of youth barely concealed beneath the tribal tattoos that covered much of his body. He only wondered who would arrive next.

[Comandersnow]

Vaclovaunt Ven'den Sarchout woke to a new day with a promise filled heart. Through his wide open glassless window, the sun shone through. He appreciated it in a way few people in this city did. In a way only those who lived in the dark could. Reaching out his tattooed left arm out he soaked the energy of the world into him and got ready for his big day at work. Tying his hair back into his massive triple banded ponytail. Ingesting the leaf from his personal heart tree. Putting one of his large vinyl disks on the great player he bought, one of the few luxuries.

A few hours later, Vaclovaunt stood at the foot of a house on the way to destination one. The pair of enchanted glasses about his neck, simple professor like clothing on complete with elbow patches. A little girl stood by his side as they both looked up at the roof. A small impish creature made of roots and bark was scurrying after a cat. A few minutes and some scratches later he handed the girl her pet. "just make sure next time your kitty stays in doors ".

At destination one, Vaclovaunt sat in a chair in a small room. A tattooed gruff looking dwarf sat to his right by his hand. The only noise was a low hum. The dwarf spoke up, "well Vaclovaunt, I don't know why you're so set on all this work buy my family thanks you.". This was a chair the professor spent alot of his time in. The dwarf was beginning a almost shamanic spiral on his hand, identical to the one on the other hand. The pattern was meant to draw the power of the earth into your body.

"I've been thinking of going into the whole... Adventure life style. My kids are moving on and my wife left me already.. Body still good. Want some action. " when you have spent so much time with a man you tended to talk. "well, you do need to be in basic shape ", Vaclovaunt thought of how hard it was at his first post teaching job. He was working security, he ended up puffing and huffing after a block. He's got atleast 6 blocks in him now, "but I honestly couldn't lift my axe for more than 10 hard swings. " The much closer to reality joke than he would of liked to admit brought out a laugh.

"well elf, what about the whole... Violence thing? ", Vaclovaunt thought about a event during his first security job. It was simple and easy, a job for a basic science firm. Some kids had decided to make artists out of themselves. Getting caught they ran into some tunnels, it was his job to get rid of em. Vaclovaunt Ven'den Sarchout had the idea of chasing them with biter swarms. He gave the simple order to "find. Not kill ". One of the kids was frightened, he let the bugs chase him into a fan. "yea, it isn't easy... But honestly it gets easier. I've gotten very used to it. Though, I've yet to actually kill a man with my own hands. "

After his first stop, Vaclovaunt walked up the steps to the building of the guild. His right arm was wrapped up in some light bandages from the tattoo. Over a shoulder he had a bag with some combat clothing in case he needed it. Saying Hello to all the people he knew from his short experience with the guild, he started to the office. Opening the door slowly he peeked in a head. Seeing that it was the right room he walked in with a smile on his face. "howdy, Vaclovaunt Ven'den Sarchout, pleasure to meet you. ", he put out a hand to the man behind the desk than the one in the chair. Lastly he went and took a seat.

[Arthera]

"Fanks fer tha wollz." Milori managed, mouth stuffed with a croissant, as she left the pastry shop she lived on top of with the sound of bells tinkling above her head.

It always started the day well, a nice dose of sugar and coffee. Ever since she moved in, she would go downstairs once her morning routine was done and order a small bag's worth of mouth-watering pastries and a large hot drink. That she fixed the lady's oven a week ago and was being paid with free food, Milori certainly wasn't complaining, the longer it lasted the better. Usually money was more practical, but in this case Milori was not bothered, feed the habit Millie!

It was with thoughts of food in mind that Milori wandered over to her motorbike parked out front and settled in, securing her overstuffed backpack in place with a hand while juggling the precious white bag of foodstuff and drink in the other. Too much stuff and not enough arms to handle it all, perhaps she should make one, or attach one to the bike. It was a nice, if somewhat old bike, but being a rental, she wasn't going to complain too much. Buying one was in the books anyway and then she could attach a mechanical arm to hold and unload things from it. Once the pack was comfortably in place, Milori stored the food away and set her scurrying mind to the day ahead, after taking out her pocket book and scribbling a rough idea and sketch of the mechanical arm she had pictured.

It was supposed to be her day off today, but the guild had said to come over this afternoon for a job, so she had only gotten out of bed lazily towards noon instead of bright and early like she usually did. Now it was time to be off, with no idea when or for how long this job was going to last, but then gain this was why they had a meeting of sorts beforehand. Donning her helmet, she wizzed towards the guild, making sure to not get there late.

Without much traffic to slow her down, Milori parked in front of the guild minutes later and got off, adjusting her pack on her shoulders. It jingled and clanked with a multitude of metal objects dangling from or stored within, but she could likely repair a tank right then and there should she be asked to on the spot. Maybe that was why she was called, but then again she would have been- awwwww!

Milori's trail of thoughts was cut short when she saw Mr.Cuddles come out of the alley next to the guild at the sound of her arrival. She gave him a scratch, gave him a small piece of dried fruit formerly stuck to one of her muffins and managed to go inside after some more cuddling and scratching. She passed a few people, smiled warmly and gave heavy hugs to the regulars she had grown to know better, partly to help her stay upright, before making her way to the meeting room.

She walked right in, arm raised for an energetic wave and an equally positive "HI" to the man at the other end, before sitting down in a nearby chair. She started undoing her pack with a hand, while once again juggling food and drink in the other, mouth already stuffed with a hastily grabbed pastry while in transit. It took her a moment to notice how badly lit the room actually was, and donned her goggles to help, noticing the others that had arrived and were not sitting immediately under a lamp. She waved at them in turn before sitting down comfortably, munching on another pastry.

[Blissex]

Assaryn finished clipping in the strap that went around his torso, pulling it tight enough to ensure the desert-style armor stayed in place. He slowly, and with precision, dressed himself in front of a cracked mirror. A deep rumbling the accompanying shaking of loose items in the apartment signaled another train was hurtling past. The dilapidated apartment was cheap for both it's appalling maintenance and proximity to the raised train platforms that zig-zagged through the city. Cheap was both practical for Assaryn's needs and all he could afford. He was not fussed, being of desert-stock, but he did not exactly relish the atmosphere created in the Black District.

Mostly dressed, Assaryn wandered over to the sink in his bare feet, he preferred to go without shoes where he could. Which wasn't many places in the city. After shaving with his knife, Assaryn wrapped a grey scarf around his neck, before putting on his great-coat. Everywhere was so much colder then his homeland, he had yet to adjust to that. Even after a hundred years.
Another rumble as a train went by, raised voices, dulled by the poor sound dampening of the wall, could be heard a few rooms down. The neighbors were fond of noise. A crippled gnome who ran, what Assaryn expected, a illicit drug lab and a middle-aged couple whose one devotion in life was to shout as loud as they could while they insulted and harangued each other. It was only slightly better then their love-making, which seemed to follow the bouts of domestic woes.

It was a small blessing that Assaryn's occupation left him little time at... 'home.' Though that same blessing is what caused his current financial predicament. In the South he was the most skilled, most sought after Assassin in the land. He was wealthy, respected and had a purpose in life. A purpose he now disdained, but a purpose nonetheless. His skill was his undoing, and to stop his services being rendered on themselves, the city-state barons came together to track him down and kill him. It was a testament to his own abilities that he manged to escape relatively unscathed. Since then, a few minor jobs had led him to Arxie where his trade was sought after. Unfortunately Arxie was far more controlled and subtle and assignments were few and far between. No one knew him up here. This had taken Assaryn aback. He was humbled and realized his own arrogance, how it led to his downfall.

Now, in an effort to find that elusive purpose in life, a quest he had sought after since exile from his homeland, Assaryn had joined the guild. He did not lament the fact he was to begin anew, on the lowest levels like a young pup. The new Assaryn swallowed his pride and kept going.
And that is what he did, boots on, Assaryn walked to the guild Headquarters. He could afford no transport of his own and had to use public means.

Without a sound Assaryn entered the dank room. 'Emerged' was probably more accurate, as everyone was facing Verrick rather than the door. So His entry was entirely stealthy. It was not deliberate, just a natural action Assaryn had honed to instinct. A slight nod recognition to Verrick was all that he gave as he entered, being somewhat familiar with him, no never working together. Assaryn chose to stand, not liking chairs. When he did sit is was on mats or cushions. Both currently lacking in this room.

Assaryn's neutral face was frown, he wore it constantly and it slightly diminished his looks. His green eyes scanned the room of it's inhabitants.
The massive man sitting reversed on a chair, dominated his vision. He was a hard person to miss and Assaryn thought he recognized him from around the city. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, Assaryn noted two other elves already present. A diminutive woman sat enjoying a pastry, she was smiling at him... or perhaps she was just smiling at everything. The other was a wood elf. or least pretended to be. His mannerisms were too clean, well-bred, he had obviously lived an easy life for some time.
Noting these other adventurers was bound to be important, this job obviously required a team. Hopefully Assaryn didn't have to get to know these people.

[Hymusia]

Naterii felt uncomfortable, a strong part of her wanted to protest but her pride held her in check. Lord Ashwood was sending her away again? Away from his side? In these troubled times with their enemy filling the city her place was and should remain at his side! So what on earth was he thinking by sending her away? “It is not a failing on your part child.” He called her child again, she hated that, she wanted to be seen as an equal, she was after all supposed to be his body guard not his ward. “However your services are best lent to the the ones looking for the problem.”

She opened her mouth to object but he rose a hand to silence her, that was the end of the conversation, his decision was final as always it was, gritting her teeth a moment she offered a courteous bow, “Be safe my Lord, may whatever gods still hear us protect you while I'm gone.” He offered her a kindly nod and she left without another word. It was not uncommon for him to send her to the guild for minor mission runs, usually the kind that involved some problem within the elven community, but she didn't feel good about this.

As she passed a maid in the hallway she paused, her voice a low whisper, “If anything happens to him while I am away, your family will never find a body to bury. I hope you understand what I mean.” The poor maid nodded in fear, Nat had a temper, everyone knew that, even though she never appeared angry and rarely rose her voice everyone knew what kind of things Nat could, and would do to a person should anything happen to Lord Ashwood.

She recalled in terror the time Nat had returned and the lord had caught a human's common cold. She dared not tell Nat that the lord was more than capable of handling himself, that was something else everyone knew including his guard. Naterii continued down the hallway and the maid let out a sigh, her knees felt weak so she leaned against a wall for support.

Naterii had reached her quarters, they were of course, appropriately distanced from the lords own and sparsely furnished, a bed, a wardrobe and a cabinet. She was ready and departed without another word, she took no horse nor carriage but went on foot, and was quiet and unnoticeable as she did so. Light on her feet she made good time to the market square, slipping in and out of the shadows as she made her way to the guild steps.

She knew she shouldn't be so disgusted by this place, it was here she was able to meet her lord and learn her trade, but even still she could not bring herself to not shiver as she took the first step. Half creatures, humans, goodness knows what else would lurk in the halls and she would have to deal with them all. Their lack of manners, lack of personal hygiene, lack of etiquette, she would have to graciously forgive all of that, even if they brushed by her, even if they touched her, even if they spoke to her, she'd have to forgive them. It wasn't their fault they were inferior, any more than it was a pigeon's fault for not being born an eagle.

The smell hit her as soon as she opened the doors and she almost gagged as her foot found a sticky patch, it took all her effort to make that first step into the hall where she was met with the butchered and ruined words of a language that set her teeth shaking. She had to be strong, hopefully this would be a solo mission and she could...Alas though there were no gods shining through the smog upon her today. When she reached her destination she already saw several people sitting around, a table and inwardly she sighed. No hope, none at all, she would have to persevere. However they were elves! She was momentarily relieved and almost happy, and then they spoke and she writhed in dismay.

How could any of their kind speak so...so...she was going to be sick, she really was. Was Lord Ashwood the only man with any eloquence or class left? Once more the despair of leaving his side for this mission settled in, and like a convict awaiting execution she all but dragged her feet as she entered the room. Making for an open spot at the table she offered the same courtly bow she offered her employer.

One hand moved across to the opposite side of her chest and she bowed rigidly from the middle. “Naterii reporting.” All she could hope for that this was a quick job and that; with luck, there would be no half's on this mission! However she had not been that lucky all this morning.

[guinness]

Black smoke filled the room; burnt cushions lined the walls and floor. The room was mostly barren save for a lone table that sat wedged in a corner. Sharp mental tools lined the old wooden table, one of the legs shorter than the others causing the table to slant to the right. The tools clung on for dear life, a hammer dangling over the edge. The room resembled a mental asylum more than a home.

Loud banging rang through the building followed by a shrill scream, “Son of a cog I burnt myself.” The small gnome stood blowing on his left hand as a brief waft of steam emanated. His garb was peculiar, heavy clothing, bare feet and a large round helmet that resembled what you would wear in a race car. His green eyes showed both annoyance and intrigue at the current situation. Sitting at his feet were a pair of stained metallic boots.

“Well if you paid more attention you wouldn’t go making eggs out of your hands,” a small bright haired gnome giggled, strutting around the room like a chicken.

“Bimp I swear sometimes I just want to choke some sense into you,” the male gnome spat back clearly not amused.

“Choke me like a chicken Raggle?” she held her hands mocking around her neck and fell to the ground giggling. Smiling at the still indignant Raggle she brushed off her clothes and slid a pair of green goggles over her eyes. Slapping her hands together she excitedly yelled, “Operation super jumpity jump is a go!”

“You really need to think of better names for your inventions Bimp,” Raggle said shaking his head. Reaching down he grabbed a hold of each of the metallic boots, sliding his rather hairy feet into them. Slamming the harnessing locks in he turned to Bimp, “This is going to hurt isn’t it?”

“Don’t be silly you have exactly a 33.6% chance of success. That’s much higher than before!” Bimp clapped happily. Slowly back out of the launch range she watched as Raggle jumped into the air normally. As he landed her invention went to work, springs ejected the bottom sole of the boot outward. The pressure from the ejection sprang Raggle end over end into the air, he looked like a loaf of bread being thrown around. As he twirled effortlessly his back came into hard contact with the wall, the impact caused him to fall to the ground like a rock in the ocean.

“Raggy are you alright?” Bimp ran towards him, tripping over herself on the way. She hoped he wasn’t seriously hurt, the cushions should have absorbed 80% of the damage and he was a tough little gnome as it is. Shaking his still lifeless body,” Wake up Raggy.”

She curled her lower lip, why had she used him instead of a machine? Why had her calculations been so off? They had done this so many times, why now? Why was all that could go through her head as a small tear made its way down her face. Slamming her fists into the ground she whispered, “I’m sorry Raggy.”

Turning away she wiped the side of her face still distraught at the incident; she needed a drink and needed it now. Before she knew it a force was knocking her face first into the ground. Pinned down all she could hear was a very deep masculine voice, “Oooooooh I am the ghost of Raggle’s past.”

“Raggy that’s not funny, my heart was going at def con lollipop speeds,” she rolled around slapping him in the arm than hugging him as hard as she could. She always knew he had a weird sense of humor, but she hated when he pulled stunts like this. Def con lollipop was not something to be taken lightly.

“You know it would take more than that to take me down,” he stood up flexing his arms. “You need to go to your meeting anyway. Once my head stops ringing I can make some tweaks to these boots while you’re gone,” he said rubbing his hand on the top of her head.

“Sweet baby giblets! I completely forgot about that, oh they are going to be grumpy Gus about this,” she scrambled to her feet, quickly grabbing whatever equipment she could and bolting out of the house.

To many the streets were a dangerous place given the influx of less than desirable as the higher class called them. She always felt they were merely misunderstood, everyone had a kindness deep within their heart, just had to get to it. People were a lot cream filled pastries, oh how she loved them, but no time to stop now. She weaved in and out of legs, feet and the occasional large rodent. Hand firmly placed against her tool belt she slid in front of the guild’s compound.

Walking into the conference room she gazed at all the people who had already arrived, from the numbers it was a 90% chance she was late. It seemed like everyone on this team was an elf and they were all so tall looking. Rushing over to the nearest elf, her tools clanging as she moved. Grabbing the hem of the female elves clothing,” Hey, hey missy you know you’re quite pretty. Bet all them elf boys over there will be trying to do the ole screwdriver twirl."

Scampering off from the elf she hopped upward, climbing up onto the chair that clearly was not made for gnomes. Crossing her arms she looked at the man behind the desk who she assumed was the captain of this little party, “You know we all aren’t ten foot tall giants, would it kill you to get a girl a stepping stool?”

Brushing her hair back she struck a pose, “I am Bimpkee Zookwinkle captain for reporting duty.” Taking a seat she remained completely oblivious to the fact she butchered that phrase.

[Lustre]

“Oh heavens, I am late!” Arya cursed to herself as she quickly pulled on her pale top and dark trousers. Ignoring the rumbling of her stomach, she bid her housemates adieu as she raced toward the Guild.

Having been disowned by her Father several years ago, she had taken up residence in a simple house with one other elf, and two humans. The four of them were all pleasant toward each other, but Arya was the only Adventurer among them, and for that reason they seemed to fear her. They feared her magical knowledge, and her Desert Eagle.

“My Deagle!” She cried, turning about and racing back indoors for it.

“You’ll forget your head one day, Arya.” Her Elven housemate commented as he flicked through a newspaper.

“Good job it is screwed upon my shoulders then, no?” Arya replied as she raced back and down the few steps which met the street. Thankfully, she did not live far from the Adventurers Guild, but that did not change the fact that she was late for a mission.

Bursting through the doors of the conference room, she breathed heavily as all eyes turned on her “I am so, so, so, so, so sorry I am late!” Her naturally sing-song voice failed to convey her emotion, so she bowed a little as she made her way forward. “My name is Arya Aranel, and I promise you I will not be this late again!”

Taking one of the few remaining seats, she felt her cheeks glow red as the eyes slowly turned away from her and back to their Captain.

[Commander Kalic]

Verric looked up from the folder as the giant half-ogre walked in the door. He eyed the behemoth as he silently sat down and started giving himself a field manicure on the table. Shaking his head he went back to reading until the next person showed up, a heavily tattooed elf. Shaking his hand, he didn’t deign to give the rather chipper elf a response, preferring to wait for the others before having to explain what was going on.
He sat there as the others flowed in at a rather quick pace, an overly exuberant elf, the brooding loner, a highborn looking elven lady, and a rambunctious little grime covered gnome. When they had all filled in and said their bit, Alex decided to get things underway. Sighing at his lot, he pushed himself up form the table and had just been opening his mouth when another elf bursts in.

Apologizing profusely as she moved into an unoccupied seat, Verric tried his best not just yell at her. Getting his emotions under control he began again. “All right scrubs, welcome to the company. Some of you have worked with us before, a number of you haven’t and I would like you all to understand this: that doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“All I have to go off of is this” he held up one of the folders “and to be fair, aside from the ‘potential test’ I generally disregard the rest of it.” this was a lie, he had spent a fair bit of time looking through them, but he didn’t want his scrubs getting a big head. “So here is how it is going to work, I will be leading you boys and girls from the start, you will listen to my orders and you will answer my questions. Now this is not a military operation, I doubt most of you even accurately understand what that is, so I will recognize your skills and ask for them or even give you the lead on different time. But remember who is in charge!”

He took a moment to let that sink in before going on “On to the subject of the job. Our employer is the company Hendrick’s Motors, a small group out of black district who produce cheap cars. They are worried about a sudden loss of workers, not in the sense that they are quitting, but that they are up and disappearing. Hendrick’s wants us to find out what is happening and put a stop to it if possible.”

“So far out feelers out in the city have seen that a number of… undesirables have moved in, mainly half-orcs and goblins who seem to all be part of the same group, some kind of gang called ‘ash kings’. Also we have a location of a more recent disappearance; chances are we could get there before too much of what we are looking for gets looted or destroyed. Before we move, I want to hear what you guys think we should do.” The main part of the briefing finished he sat down, and looked at the assembled team “well come on, speak up!”

[Lustre]

Crossing her arms, Arya bowed her head as she contemplated what her Captain had said. Whether he had truly disregarded whatever was in that manila folder was irrelevant, what mattered was that this was a test of intuition; and she was going to pass. Especially since she had been so late for the meeting!

Opening her eyes, she pushed herself away from the table and stood, keeping her eyes upon their Captain. At a slight nod from him, she began:

“Perhaps it would be wise for one of us to go undercover, and examine the disappearances from the inside. It would give us the chance to talk to other workers and determine their opinions of their manager. If there is friction there, then that could be a huge clue – but then again, it could also mean nothing.

“Likewise, I feel it would be best if we researched their rival companies and perhaps placed a few undercover agents there as well. It is probable that one – or a few – of the rival companies are somehow involved. These undesirables, as you so called them, Captain, could be nothing more than coincidence.”

Sitting back down, she let the chatter of her comrades wash over her.