Avatar of ButtsnBalls

Status

Recent Statuses

6 yrs ago
The most common color for highlighters is yellow because it doesn’t leave a shadow on the page when photocopied
4 likes
9 yrs ago
40000 Americans are injured by toilets each year
5 likes
9 yrs ago
A strawberry is not an actual berry, but a banana is.
4 likes
9 yrs ago
No one knows who invented the fire hydrant because its patent was burned in a fire
6 likes
9 yrs ago
Sea otters hold hands while sleeping so they don’t drift away from each other
3 likes

Bio

Most Recent Posts

Epilogue




The fourth day after Federica Azzurro's arrest is a loud one. Chiavo Police mobilizes every single officer to conduct a city-wide bust. Over 100 individuals suspected of involvement with the Crogiolo Syndicate are arrested, a portion of whom dies fighting to the very end. Then all is quiet on the fifth day. Curfew is declared and broadcasts fall silent. Chiavans brace for the retaliation characteristic of other crime families, when they died decades ago. None comes, for the destruction of Crogiolo is thorough and absolute.

The next week, business goes back to usual. Very few people bother to celebrate, though one that does is the police chief himself. Flanked by four bodyguards, all private agents instead of uniformed officers (one of them even escorted Giulio Cespuglio to the airport last week), he takes Vincente Esposito and Lucia Koundouros to the most upscale restaurant for lunch. The police chief is wearing his sharpest uniform; crisp blue jacket and trouser, polished boots, perfectly set cap and a row of service medals on his puffed up chest. The restaurant itself is equally as formal; the entire place is reserved for the three of them, and delicately crafted food is literally accompanied with a silver spoon each. This is no junk food that Vinnie typically grabs between deliveries; they even have a full vegetarian menu just for Lucia.

When everything is eaten, two suitcase are put on the table by the police chief's bodyguards. One case opens to reveal stacks of cash, probably numbering in the millions and enough for two early retirements. The other contains stacks of paper, legal documents that allow Crogiolo Syndicate to transform into a legit company, albeit one with significant government oversight.

"The easy life or CEOs of the next big thing in Chiavo." The police chief offers. He dabs his double chin with a napkin, and wipes off some alfredo sauce from a big silver medal. "Either way, remember you have a powerful friend when I become prime minister next year."

Vinnie and Lucia aren't the only ones making choices. Alone with nothing but her daily meals in the most secure cell, Jane finally receives some visitors a week after her arrest. Government prosecutors come to offer her a deal. Being one of the foremost legal experts under Federica Azzurro, Jane's defense will undoubtedly complicate matters and cost the government valuable time and money. Instead, Jane can testify against her fellow syndicate members in exchange for amnesty. She will be sent back to the US and never allowed in Chiavo again, but she will not be imprisoned for a single day. Alternatively, even though the prosecutors don't mention this, Jane knows numerous acts of police brutality can reduce Reika and Alice's life sentences to only a few years. The catch is, Jane will have to be locked up with them herself.

As for Alice Elliton and Reika Saigyo, it becomes apparent their mutual distrust is (mostly) unfounded. Lower ranking criminals testify similarly for both of them, and the prosecutors give out the same sentence. Even their jail is the same, though St. Olivia's Penetentiary is the only maximum security prison for women in Chiavo. They are initially treated as celebrities, especially Alice, whom is somewhat of a role model for misbehaving young women. However, their fame eventually fades and prison life becomes drab. Several months into their sentence, the newly elected prime minister instills much hated reforms. Daily chores become hard labor, the barely stomachable meals get cut further, and the worst of all, solitary confinements increase significantly. Many prisoner are fed up, so they stage an uprising and invite the former Crogiolo big-shots as leaders.

The uprising ends in disaster. No one breaks out, but many are killed when lethal force is authorized.

But what about Federica Azzurro, Uccian Kuso and Giulio Cespuglio? Well, Federica is released on bail valuing $10 million before what must be a widely publicized trial. That trial never happens, because she disappears the day before, following searchlights and police helicopters circling her mansion. Rumor is that Federica is shot and dumped in the middle of the Mediterranean; her connections make her too dangerous alive. On the other hand, no one needs to make Uccian Kuso disappear. He's a coward that's more than happy to sell out his former customers for his own freedom, to no avail, as he is sent to a prison in Turkey for the next decade and never allowed near a kitchen again. This contrasts sharply with Cespuglio sitting pretty on a Caribbean island. Some Interpol agent tries to arrest him later, but said agent soon resigns because of a personal scandal.

Organized crime does indeed fade from Chiavo. The story of Crogiolo Syndicate, a crime family that is able outlive all of its rivals, but not it's own greed, will be the latest tourist attraction for this tiny Mediterranean country. Federica's mansion is being repurposed into a museum; her belongings already on display elsewhere. Within a year, "Mafia Tours" and "Mob Experiences" pop up all over the city. To most visitors, it is an intriguing but perdictable gimmick. Though for those traveling off the beaten path to see Leonardo Valentino and Rachel Hayford's graves, it is a cautionary tale about mistrust.
And here's what important people did at night:





CharacterRoleNight 1Night 2
VinnieMoleBust JaneBust Leo
LuciaRoleblockerBlock ReikaBlock Alice
AliceEnforcerProtect ReikaProtect Reika
JaneInvestigatorInvestigate VinnieN/A
Here's everyone's assigned roles:

Ariane will go for the less popular option, while Keegan's off on his own special mission™.
Two things for you guys to do:

1. Restore order to the dining hall; eliminate Sylette, her vamps and frenzied guests. Risk: you may fall for the frenzy spell.
2. Go after Nyrehtaud and protect the monarchs; you'll need to defeat him and two gargoyles. Risk: you may have to fight through/convince confused guards along the way.

Also, Tsleeixth's sacrifice gives the rest of us the upper hand against Nyrehtaud. Please press F to pay respect to our lizard bro (and his homeboy Tmeip'r).

8pm, Last Seed 16
Evermore Castle



The Altmer vampire lord Nyrehtaud was not a patient man. Then again, patience was not a virtue most vampires were known for. Despite having the potential to be immortal, no vampires had lived much longer than regular mortals. Well, no vampires other than Wrudh. There was a reason Nyrehtaud pledged his loyalty to Wrudh. Wrudh taught him to control his hunger, to use his powers manipulating the herd instead of dying in a bloody confrontation with them. Being Wrudh's scion meant more than being a killer; they were shaping High Rock's future.

However, his current assignment had been trying his patience to the extreme. He had a dozen of younger vampires, all of whom eager to prove their worth and earn an "apprenticeship" under the legendary Wrudh. However, these new-fangs had given to their instincts all too easily. Sure, some of them had almost gotten as good as Nyrehtaud himself in illusion and blood magic, while others researched diligently on the intricacies of court affairs. Patience under pressure was one thing not easily learned; it was an instinct honed through decades of survival, and something none of the neophytes acquired.

The idiots that suppose to sneak in among the servants decided to drink on the job, then got busted by an Imperial "waiter" (at least they crumbled to dust before the guards could catch them). The men that went in the back door died, and that's all Nyrehtaud knew. The agents in charge for harvesting blood for the death ritual let a clown slip through their grasp (and ending the plan of blowing up the castle). To top it all off, none of the monarchs and generals showed their face. No doubt it's security precaution his incompetent underlings failed to foresee.

The only one Nyrehtaud could still trust was Sylette, a Breton vampire that also had enough years to not bury her fangs in the first neck she saw. Additionally, Sylette was a talented cryomancer, capable of great icy feats like a Kamal. She was about to take center stage to recite Tsaesci haikus, something both a disguise and a geniune hobby of hers.

With time rapidly expiring, Nyrehtaud decided he had to act now, in the old fashion way. He knew the VIPs were likely meeting in the Duchess' personal quarters. That area had been sealed off with heavy guard presence. His earlier attempt to enter with illusory aid was foiled by guards in magic-resistant gear. Now, he could only get in if there's a big commotion elsewhere. Thankfully, Sylette had agreed to take the remaining vampires and make it happen.

As Sylette had been welcomed on stage by the seneschal of Evermore (following a tear-filled rap tribute to the late Tmeip'r), she weaved a small frost rune to the applause of banquet guests. Out of nowhere, she turned the rune toward the seneschal, freezing the old fool in solid ice. The crowd gasped, guards surged forward, and Sylette smashed the ice, breaking the seneschal into tiny pieces. On cue, several vampires burst in through multiple entrances, and preceded to tear into the nearest guests. In the center of the crowd was Nyrehtaud himself. People all around him were panicking, and Nyrehtaud fed on that energy. Then he let the buildup free in a mass mayhem spell. Scarlet magicka aura flooded the room, making everyone see monster in the next person.

All Oblivion broke loose in the dining hall. Guests and servants were all out brawling with each other, using steak knives, plates, fists and hurling food. Necks were sliced open as vampires drank from their victims. The few that had resisted the mayhem spell had ice spikes shot at them from Sylette. Nyrehtaud rushed out of the room, sprinting in the opposite direction to the throngs of guards. Few paid attention to him, as panic was spreading across the castle, causing most to either flee or hide. Those that tried to stop Nyrehtaud had their life drained, mind destroyed by his illusions or stabbed by his penumbric dagger. All along his path, a trail of death followed Nyrehtaud.



The monarchs were arguing, tempers were rising, food was barely being consumed, and the negotiation was going absolute nowhere. Duchess Emmeria had been locked in with the most powerful individuals of High Rock for nearly three hours, and all she had gotten were passive-aggressive insults sprinkled with the occasional childish tantrums (which mostly originated from Prince Hrolfr Iron-Arm of Jehanna). Well, so much for a miracle. The monarchs of High Rock all had gigantic egos (Emmeria herself included, she admitted begrudgingly), which meant the only people they listened to were themselves and their bootlickers. Going into this, Duchess Emmeria thought Prince Narcisse Vincens-Septim of Camlorn (as expected from his name) to be the most problematic person around the table. But no, that man-child Nord decided to showcase all the obscure insults learned from a dictionary to everyone. If not for Hrolfr's father, King Frithjolf, he would have surely gotten into a brawl and knocked himself out with his own stupidity.

At least Hrolfr liked his dinner. A little too much, as most would notice. There was a stack of messy plates and half eaten food strewn before him. At some earlier point, the servants stopped trying to clean up after him.

Speaking of food, some weird chef decided to surprise her guest with the latest import from Pyandonea. As one could imagine, S'arah, a clan-mother and renowned mediator from Pelletine, literally hightailed out of the castle upon learning the main course was barbecued Khajiit. It was a shame, because that cat was the only one who could talk some sense into both sides. The other mediators were duds; the Synod hieromancer saw everyone as beneath him, the Wyrd diviner smelled too rotten to be taken seriously, the Zenithar priestess claimed everyone's too stupid for turning their backs from her lord and savior, and the Hlaalu trade broker openly wanted war, so that he could sell his siege weapons.

Duchess Emmeria found herself staring at the stained glass window overlooking the castle garden. One of these glasses depicted Emmeria's ancestor forging an alliance with Orcs and Redguards. The Guimards ruled Evermore as mediators and peacebringers. How did they accomplish such feats? A court historian suggested that the Guimards were once vampires. Surely that's just nonsense derived from the ancient gargoyle statues littered around the castle, such as the four present in this very room. King Ferrand Bellemont of Daggerfall had gone on one of his typical rants, and most of the table rightfully put their palms against their faces. Some of her guests found the life-like statues unsettling at first, but the duchess reminded them that they were a tradition of the Guimard family for eras and they were perfectly safe, or so she was told.

"And so, for the fifth time, you have absolute no right in this dispute, my dear Narcisse." Bellemont concluded. Many had already tuned him out.

"No," Narcisse rebuked, "just no."

"You spoiled brat!" One of Bellemont's supporters fired back. "Show some respect for your high king!"

Frithjolf shook his head and banged his fists down on the table, making several people jump. "Enough! He's only 'high king' because he cuddled up to the emperor!"

Then there was another bang, but it was from nobody in this room. Another followed, and this one clearly emitted from beyond the doorway. Arguments fell silent.

"What was that?"

"Aàáâähhh!!!" A deathly wail pierced through the walls, then the heavy oak doors that were barred for security and privacy literally flew out of its hinges. A dead royal guardsman, shriveled up and drained of life, came tumbling in with the door remains. Behind him was none other than Nyrehtaud himself, with dagger in one hand and blood magic pulsing in the other.

"Magnus' rays, what is happening!?" Lord Hesse Arnault screamed in terror.

"About time; I was really getting bored." Hrolfr leaped up. "Here comes a new challenger!"

In a typical display of Nordic hot-headedness, Hrolfr went charging at the vampire lord with his bare hands. Nyrehtaud's response were tendrils of illusory energy, stopping Hrolfr dead in his tracks and taking control of his mind. The Nord's meaty hands went to grip his head.

Snap! Hrolfr twisted his neck all the way around.

Thud! Hrolfr's lifeless body hit the floor.

Two more vampires charged in from behind Nyrehtaud. One of them bared its fangs and made a beeline toward Duchess Emmeria, but the duchess was ready. She flung a concealed knife from her sleeve and sent it straight into the vampire's eye, instantly killing it. Meanwhile, the other vampire grappled with the combat-experienced lords and ladies.



As for Nyrehtaud, he found an Argonian had followed his trail. This Argonian was a mage, a necromancer with two thralls (that wore cooking aprons). The Argonian brandished a Falmer chitin sword and had a slight limp in one of his legs. A steel cuirass and some leather padding looked hastily put over the Argonian's kitchen attires. Around his scaly neck was a coral amulet glowing bright red.

The Argonian charged, dragging his damaged leg and letting out a guttural cry. His thralls followed. Although the Argonian's form was clumsy, Nyrehtaud found himself unable to deflect the larger sword with his dagger, while dodging the undead thralls flanking him. The Argonian had stuck his chitin blade into Nyrehtaud's stomach, and then pulled it out with a splatter of blood.

Nyrehtaud fell. He crawled away, covering his back with illusory runes. But the Argonian walked through them unaffected. The coral amulet had purged all thoughts beside hatred from his mind.

"Who, what are you?" Nyrehtaud asked. He was backed into a corner now.

"I am Tslee-" The Argonian's voice was monotone and forced. However, Nyrehtaud could sense the amulet taking over completely. What came next could only be described as gangster.

"No. I am Tmeip'r, the Fiftieth-Sent." The Argonian started...rapping? "Many men, many, many, many, many men, wish death upon me."

Both thralls lunged at Nyrehtaud. He rolled away from one, but the other got him. That thrall ripped and clawed, destroying Nyrehtaud's expensive suit. He could feel his own blood leaking from not just the sword entry now.

"Interlopers!" Roared Nyrehtaud. "Out of my way!"

Muscle expanded, claws and fangs extended, wings unfurled, and the regal Altmer transformed into a monstrous vampire lord. The thrall that attacked Nyrehtaud was ripped in half, and the other thrall was crushed against the wall. "Tmeip'r" was blasted away with magic. Nyrehtaud made his way into the meeting room, finding both of his lesser vampires dispatched by his targets. No matter, he had learned that gargoyles statues sat in the castle's interior, relics from the Guimard dynasty's vampiric ancestors. Mortals thought they were nothing but inanimate objects, but Nyrehtaud knew the secrets to bring them to life.

"What? You think a lady's defenseless in her own home?" Emmeria stood her ground. She and several others had retrieved ceremonial (but still deadly) swords from display cases around the library, while some wielded the sharpest dining utensils.

A total of four gargoyles statues rumbled. The closest one suddenly leaped and smacked Cammen Goring of Wayrest flat.

"Never mind..." Emmeria backed down.

As gargoyles began smashing nobles, Nyrehtaud expected to pick off the stragglers. Turned out, the Argonian hadn't had enough yet. With his undead thralls gone, the Argonian found his replacement in the form of a frost atronach. That atronach didn't go after Nyrehtaud, though. Instead, it sacrificed itself to destroy two gargoyles (and saving the lives of many important individuals).

The Argonian himself charged Nyrehtaud again. This time, lightning runes were thrown alongside sword strikes. The attack was relentless, so Nyrehtaud had to use every inch of magic and brawn to protect himself. The vampire lord blocked the hardest sword swings with his bat-like wings, and found them chopped off (instead of his hands, luckily). Then lightning had to be dissipated through negating spells, and enduring some that had overpowered his defenses. However, the Argonian tired quickly. Although he kept up his offensive (and rapping), he had soon left an opening for Nyrehtaud to exploit.

"You gon' get shanked, homie!" The Argonian reared back with his sword, only to leave his shoulder unguarded for Nyrehtaud to grab onto. A finishing stab disrupted, the Argonian slashed across Nyrehtaud's exposed torso. Blood didn't faze the vampire lord; he took the Argonian's sword arm and detached it.

Painful screaming came out of the Argonian, and it somehow became even more deafening as Nyrehtaud drained his life out. He kicked his feet and thrashed his tail, but Nyrehtaud's magic-imbued grip held tight. Scales that were sleek and full of life withered and dulled. The glowing amulet dimmed with every bit of essence leaving the Argonian's body. Finally, his struggles ceased, and his resilient amber eyes rolled back into his head.

Nyrehtaud ripped off the Argonian's head. He drank from the neck stump, though there weren't much blood left (the side effect from life drain magic); it would not be enough to heal his injuries. What was left of the Argonian's body was thrown through the stained glass window, shattering it and landing in the garden below.

The confrontation between beastfolk and vampire lasted no more than several minutes. Gargoyles were still attacking people. Nyrehtaud's plight would continue when several mercenaries arrived on scene.
Night 2 result: Leo has been taken out. He's a regular "citizen" (protagonost), and he decided to go down fighting.

Now that there's only two protagonists left, the antagonists are essentially victorious. So, we'll jump directly to the final confrontations. Feel free to reveal your role and decide how your character's story ends.
Day 3



The news of a violent shootout is the talk of Chiavo this morning. Stories from eyewitnesses spread even before any newspaper or TV broadcast can. And how can they not? A team of dozen elite SWAT officers stormed the property of a high-ranking syndicate member. Helicopters, armored vans, batteting rams, a swirl of lights and sirens accompanied several minutes of gunfire. By the end of it, two police officers are dead, three are injured, and Leonardo Valentino's bullet-ridden corpse is taken away to the morgue.

Early in the morning, two moles within the syndicate are summoned to Chiavo PD headquarters. There, they find their handlers in a celebratory mood, despite having officers killed in the line of duty just hours ago. They claim victory is imminent; the Crogiolo leadership is sufficiently dismantled to the point that only two high-profile members are remaining. The moles' final assignment today is to capture these two criminals, dead or alive. Sweeping up the street thugs after that will only be a matter time. The end of organized crime in Chiavo is within sight.

Each with many police officers and informants as backup, the moles get to work taking down their former comrades.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet