Leaning against the enormous chimney on the roof of the East Chamley textile mill, Alberic Bourneham, Marcus Wise, Antonius Fervel and Isaac Russell used their half hour break to. It was the break before the morning shift and the dark sky was slowly getting lighter. Factories never stopped and hundreds of thick columns of smoke were pouring out of the tall chimneys that dominated the skyline. Looking to the east, past the Old Commons, one could see the famous donjon of Kingstone but to the west were only more factories and workers housing.
There were three shifts at the East Chamley factory: the morning shift, from six to a half past one, the day shift, from two to half past nine and the night shift, from ten to half past five. Between shifts there was a thirty minute break which most workers spent outside to escape the hot and crowded working stations. Getting all the way to the roof of the factory meant going up three narrow staircases and took up precious minutes of their break but it was a place with guaranteed privacy. The factory had a saw-tooth roof, but there was a door that gave access to a small platform between two chimney for maintenance workers. It was here that Alberic and his associates, if they could sneak away without anyone seeing them leave, would discuss business.
As another gust of wind hit blew the matchbook out of the hands of Isaac Russell, who had been trying in vain to light his pipe for the past two minutes, the other three chuckled.
“Might as well get to it then.” Isaac Russell said dryly as he put the pipe back in his coat pocket. In the factory he was in charge of the machines that spun the yarn, a job that earned him just a few cents an hour more than the average pay. Though age had turned his hair from blonde to grey, he was just as broad and sinewy as he was when he was shovelling coal. His brute strength was one of the reasons why Alberic liked to keep him close, but he also commanded great respect from the other factory workers.
“Talks are going nowhere.” Alberic said and took a swig from his flask.
“I think I’m not gonna like where you want to go Alberic.” Antonius Fervel said. He was a more moderate voice within the union but despite of that, or perhaps because of that, had a lot of friends and followers. More and more people in the union had become concerned that the leadership was becoming too radical and Antonius was one of them. The man, who lost his left hand in a work related accident a few years back, was an angry drunk and drunk he was often but at least he could be reasoned with.
“You don’t have to like it.” Alberic replied coolly. “What’s the point of talking to people that won’t listen? The bosses don’t take us seriously Antonius.”
“The police won’t let this go Alberic, I’m telling you. You’ll end up dead or in prison and in prison you’ll end up dead. They’ve been snatching people off the streets.”
“Maybe you don’t like where we’re going, but we can’t just stay put.” Marcus Wise chimed in. He was Alberic’s closest friend and had a greater hatred for the factory owner than even Alberic himself. “They already think we’re a danger and want to take us down before we even properly get on our feet.”
“Marcus is right.” Alberic said after his friend had finished saying what they agreed he would say before they came to the roof. “You think they don’t know who you are? You think they will just let you be if you stay quiet?”
“If we throw some things around, they will see what they are dealing with. They will see that we won’t back down if they arrest us.” Marcus added. “They need to see that if they go after us, we go after them.”
After a brief pause Alberic spoke up again. “We need you in this Antonius. We need you, we need your friends. Just like we need you and yours Isaac.” He liked to think of himself as a great orator, a great leader of men, but in reality it was Marcus who could always find the right words and the right tone to convince a man.
“You’ll have us.” Isaac said finally. Antonius remained silent but did not protest. They all knew what Alberic wanted even before the talk on the roof. The last few days there had been talk of a strike and yesterday there was talk of sabotage. Whenever Alberic wanted something, he would make sure that everyone was already talking about it. In two days the Erdley Textile Workers Association would go on strike. Of course, Alberic had greater plans. He was out in the open and he was vulnerable. He had to watch his step or risk falling into the hands of the police, or worse. However, Alberic's plan to avoid trouble, was to create more. The strike was to start peaceful, but if Alberic could have his way it would certainly not end that way.
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Since my character is a union leader for workers at yet unnamed factories, feel free to have your character be involved. I can easily see one of those rich bastards as a shareholder or investor.
Name: Alberic Bourneham
Age: 34
Profession/vocation: Dyer, Trade Union Leader
Affiliation: Erdley Textile Workers Association
Skills:
- Dyeing textile; Unsurprising after working as a dyer.
- Operation and maintenance of steam-powered machinery; Equally unsurprising for a worker at his position.
- Understanding of chemistry; Though he could not finish his education, Alberic has a good grasp of the basics of chemistry.
- Organisation; Having been an integral part of the worker's union since its inception, his leadership and organisational skills have improved greatly.
- Literate; Unlike many of his colleagues, friends and compatriots, Alberic can read and write with ease.
Traits:
- Ambitious
- Impatient
- Charitable
- Uncompromising
- Opportunistic
Personality:
Outsiders and close friends alike will have a hard time figuring out what Alberic really thinks or feels. He is often straightforward to the point of being blunt, but this often sheds no light on his motives or true intentions. Alberic has a reputation of being uncompromising and impatient so it would surprise no one to find that he lied and manipulated to accomplish his goals. However, his concern for the lower classes and his hatred for the wealthy is doubted by no one. Having risen to the leadership position of the Erdley Textile Workers Association, Alberic is by no means satisfied. He is always looking for a chance to increase his leverage or consolidate his power so that in the times to come he would have more power to play or bargain with. Though he can be impatient and often acts on a whim, he has set his sights on greater issues than just the treatment of his colleagues at the factory. If it is up to him, his story is just beginning and his rise to the political stage just a matter of time.
Biography:
Working for a small pharmacy James Bourneham, father of Alberic, could afford a small house and maintain his wife and three children. The street Alberic and his two sisters grew up in was lined with the narrow brick houses that rose up in huge blocks on the outskirts of Kingstone. With the wages of both parents Alberic and his sisters all attended high school but had to work in the hours after school and in the weekends. There was little time for playing around but it was clear to Alberic, even at an early age, that his life was considerably more pleasant than that of many of his neighbours. Only a handful of children in the neighbourhood could afford attending school as most had to find employment to get bread on the table. Marcus, one of his close childhood friends, often shared stories about his work cleaning the machinery in a textile mill. However, over time the two grew apart as Alberic developed new interests and ideas while Marcus never seemed to talk about anything other than the gossip of the neighbourhood and accidents at the mill. Alberic felt he was destined for greater things than to be stuck in the squalor of a working class neighbourhood.
When he graduated from high school Alberic was sent off to university to study chemistry. At first the university was a symbol for intellectualism, sophistication and all the things he desired but could not find back home, but soon he found that nothing had changed. He found new friends but quickly saw that he did not belong. The gap between the rich and poor, even at the university was as clear as day. Gradually Alberic’s escapism changed into frustration and involved himself in social movements and political discussions. However, his new life ended abruptly when his father passed away suddenly and Alberic had to leave the university. Having lost the main source of income Alberic was forced to take a job as a dyer at a textile mill. The same textile mill where his childhood friends had worked for years.
His father’s death had been hard to deal and as time passed his sadness did not disappear but turned into anger. He felt he deserved more than this and as he looked at the plight of those around him knew that his colleagues deserved more too. Reunited, as fate would have it, with his old friend Marcus, Alberic shared his ideas of equality and change. Word spread and soon groups of people gathered to talk of work and politics. As the gatherings grew and Marcus reached out to his friends in other factories, the Erdley Textile Workers Association was created. For a while its leadership consisted of representatives of the factories, often old men who had been working at the mills for decades. Though the movement was growing and there was talk of strikes and sabotage, things were moving far too slow for Alberic. He felt that the old guard could not see the bigger picture and never hesitated to share this with his colleagues. Over the years his ideas of equality turned more radical and his thoughts on justice ever more violent. Ultimately Alberic volunteered himself to negotiate with the factory owners and became the de facto head of the association.
Age: 34
Profession/vocation: Dyer, Trade Union Leader
Affiliation: Erdley Textile Workers Association
Skills:
- Dyeing textile; Unsurprising after working as a dyer.
- Operation and maintenance of steam-powered machinery; Equally unsurprising for a worker at his position.
- Understanding of chemistry; Though he could not finish his education, Alberic has a good grasp of the basics of chemistry.
- Organisation; Having been an integral part of the worker's union since its inception, his leadership and organisational skills have improved greatly.
- Literate; Unlike many of his colleagues, friends and compatriots, Alberic can read and write with ease.
Traits:
- Ambitious
- Impatient
- Charitable
- Uncompromising
- Opportunistic
Personality:
Outsiders and close friends alike will have a hard time figuring out what Alberic really thinks or feels. He is often straightforward to the point of being blunt, but this often sheds no light on his motives or true intentions. Alberic has a reputation of being uncompromising and impatient so it would surprise no one to find that he lied and manipulated to accomplish his goals. However, his concern for the lower classes and his hatred for the wealthy is doubted by no one. Having risen to the leadership position of the Erdley Textile Workers Association, Alberic is by no means satisfied. He is always looking for a chance to increase his leverage or consolidate his power so that in the times to come he would have more power to play or bargain with. Though he can be impatient and often acts on a whim, he has set his sights on greater issues than just the treatment of his colleagues at the factory. If it is up to him, his story is just beginning and his rise to the political stage just a matter of time.
Biography:
Working for a small pharmacy James Bourneham, father of Alberic, could afford a small house and maintain his wife and three children. The street Alberic and his two sisters grew up in was lined with the narrow brick houses that rose up in huge blocks on the outskirts of Kingstone. With the wages of both parents Alberic and his sisters all attended high school but had to work in the hours after school and in the weekends. There was little time for playing around but it was clear to Alberic, even at an early age, that his life was considerably more pleasant than that of many of his neighbours. Only a handful of children in the neighbourhood could afford attending school as most had to find employment to get bread on the table. Marcus, one of his close childhood friends, often shared stories about his work cleaning the machinery in a textile mill. However, over time the two grew apart as Alberic developed new interests and ideas while Marcus never seemed to talk about anything other than the gossip of the neighbourhood and accidents at the mill. Alberic felt he was destined for greater things than to be stuck in the squalor of a working class neighbourhood.
When he graduated from high school Alberic was sent off to university to study chemistry. At first the university was a symbol for intellectualism, sophistication and all the things he desired but could not find back home, but soon he found that nothing had changed. He found new friends but quickly saw that he did not belong. The gap between the rich and poor, even at the university was as clear as day. Gradually Alberic’s escapism changed into frustration and involved himself in social movements and political discussions. However, his new life ended abruptly when his father passed away suddenly and Alberic had to leave the university. Having lost the main source of income Alberic was forced to take a job as a dyer at a textile mill. The same textile mill where his childhood friends had worked for years.
His father’s death had been hard to deal and as time passed his sadness did not disappear but turned into anger. He felt he deserved more than this and as he looked at the plight of those around him knew that his colleagues deserved more too. Reunited, as fate would have it, with his old friend Marcus, Alberic shared his ideas of equality and change. Word spread and soon groups of people gathered to talk of work and politics. As the gatherings grew and Marcus reached out to his friends in other factories, the Erdley Textile Workers Association was created. For a while its leadership consisted of representatives of the factories, often old men who had been working at the mills for decades. Though the movement was growing and there was talk of strikes and sabotage, things were moving far too slow for Alberic. He felt that the old guard could not see the bigger picture and never hesitated to share this with his colleagues. Over the years his ideas of equality turned more radical and his thoughts on justice ever more violent. Ultimately Alberic volunteered himself to negotiate with the factory owners and became the de facto head of the association.
I'm loving this roleplay already :D
WIP
Looks very interesting. Might create a banker or a member/leader of a worker's union who may or may not be an undercover agent of some sort.
I have to get a lot of uni stuff figured out. Will post when my schedule returns to its normal unemployed state.
I will still valiantly block the way to Dorne. May the corpses pile so high that it clogs the Boneway.
Porto Junho, Democratic Republic of Junho
In a restaurant by the beach president Amando Furtado and a few friends met up with the director Arnold Bell and his crew to discuss his upcoming film The Man With the Golden Finger. The restaurant that overlooked the beach was almost entirely empty, with only two other tables occupied. Seated at these two tables were of course intelligence agents in plainclothes. For the small island nation of Junho the shooting of the film was a grand occasion. The people behind the film were of course obliged to pay fees to work on the island and the hotels they stayed in suddenly charged extortionate prices. An even greater boon was the fact that in a year or two the free publicity might lead to more tourists visiting the island.
After exchanging pleasantries, Arnold Bell, wearing a cowboy hat, Hawaiian shirt and cargo pants, ordered a cup of coffee while the president asked for rum. Despite being the largest coffee producer of the region, the coffee brewed on the island was awful. Thankfully Arnold Bell seemed to enjoy his beverage and even commented that it tasted exactly like the coffee he drank in Los Angeles.
“Once again thank you for your hospitality mister presidente, but we have a capable special effects team.” Arnold Bell said after finishing his cup.
“No, no, no need to be polite. I insist.” President Furtado replied with a smile. “Some of my officers are very capable and have years of experience working with explosives.”
While the director was looking for words to politely rephrase his objections the island’s most decorated and only general entered the restaurant. In stark contrast to the president who was dressed quite casually wearing a white dress shirt and simple grey cotton pants, the general wore his dark green uniform and military boots.
“Allow me to introduce General Musa Hisakawa.” President Furtado said as the general joined the table. “He actually graduated from the Tokyo University of Arts.”
As the director reached to shake the general’s hand with a look of disbelief on his face, the sound of gunfire disturbed the tranquil meeting. Not even a second later an aid ran up to the general to inform him of what was going on.
“General, rebels are attacking the prison complex. Police opened fire.” The aid whispered into the general’s ear and then quickly disappeared again. General Hisakawa only nodded and called for a serving girl to bring him a drink. Before the meeting he had been ordered by the president to cover up all irregularities that may occur. A rebel attack was a minor inconvenience but it could scare off the sensitive American tourists.
“Was that gunfire?” Arnold Bell asked hesitantly after a moment of silence.
“Hah, no need to worry senhor” General Hisakawa quickly replied. “My men are… testing the equipment we have prepared for your film. We believe strongly in ‘safety first’. If you will excuse me for a moment, I will go inquire when they are satisfied with their… tests.”
Leaving the president and the director behind, general Hisakawa calmly left the restaurant but hastened his step as soon as he was out of sight. He had a wager with president Furtado that only 5 people would die that day. Down the street he met up with the aid that had been following the situation over the radio.
“Sir, it seems that they were not rebels.”
“Then what? Prisoners breaking out?”
“No, Sir. They’re civilians breaking in. They’re robbing the prison.”
In a restaurant by the beach president Amando Furtado and a few friends met up with the director Arnold Bell and his crew to discuss his upcoming film The Man With the Golden Finger. The restaurant that overlooked the beach was almost entirely empty, with only two other tables occupied. Seated at these two tables were of course intelligence agents in plainclothes. For the small island nation of Junho the shooting of the film was a grand occasion. The people behind the film were of course obliged to pay fees to work on the island and the hotels they stayed in suddenly charged extortionate prices. An even greater boon was the fact that in a year or two the free publicity might lead to more tourists visiting the island.
After exchanging pleasantries, Arnold Bell, wearing a cowboy hat, Hawaiian shirt and cargo pants, ordered a cup of coffee while the president asked for rum. Despite being the largest coffee producer of the region, the coffee brewed on the island was awful. Thankfully Arnold Bell seemed to enjoy his beverage and even commented that it tasted exactly like the coffee he drank in Los Angeles.
“Once again thank you for your hospitality mister presidente, but we have a capable special effects team.” Arnold Bell said after finishing his cup.
“No, no, no need to be polite. I insist.” President Furtado replied with a smile. “Some of my officers are very capable and have years of experience working with explosives.”
While the director was looking for words to politely rephrase his objections the island’s most decorated and only general entered the restaurant. In stark contrast to the president who was dressed quite casually wearing a white dress shirt and simple grey cotton pants, the general wore his dark green uniform and military boots.
“Allow me to introduce General Musa Hisakawa.” President Furtado said as the general joined the table. “He actually graduated from the Tokyo University of Arts.”
As the director reached to shake the general’s hand with a look of disbelief on his face, the sound of gunfire disturbed the tranquil meeting. Not even a second later an aid ran up to the general to inform him of what was going on.
“General, rebels are attacking the prison complex. Police opened fire.” The aid whispered into the general’s ear and then quickly disappeared again. General Hisakawa only nodded and called for a serving girl to bring him a drink. Before the meeting he had been ordered by the president to cover up all irregularities that may occur. A rebel attack was a minor inconvenience but it could scare off the sensitive American tourists.
“Was that gunfire?” Arnold Bell asked hesitantly after a moment of silence.
“Hah, no need to worry senhor” General Hisakawa quickly replied. “My men are… testing the equipment we have prepared for your film. We believe strongly in ‘safety first’. If you will excuse me for a moment, I will go inquire when they are satisfied with their… tests.”
Leaving the president and the director behind, general Hisakawa calmly left the restaurant but hastened his step as soon as he was out of sight. He had a wager with president Furtado that only 5 people would die that day. Down the street he met up with the aid that had been following the situation over the radio.
“Sir, it seems that they were not rebels.”
“Then what? Prisoners breaking out?”
“No, Sir. They’re civilians breaking in. They’re robbing the prison.”
Some amazing never before seen behind the scenes will be posted up soon.
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