DinoNuts

The Fall of Scorned [A Fantasy Adventure]

Standing behind the bulk of grouped up people, Eygon was filled with many regrets. First and foremost, not only had he ruefully decided to stand too far away from the group, but he also didn't remove his helmet which caused him to blend in with the rest of the generic guards. It was warm in here, and he could barely hear anyone aside the emperor's booming voice. Would it be too awkward to shuffle closer now? He shook the thought out of his head and decided to endure for a moment longer. That said, he was standing perfectly upright with locked knees and he noticed that was going to mess with his blood flow soon enough.

Time passed and the emperor allowed the subjects to ask questions. He noticed that some of them were even making requests - now more then ever he wished his visor wasn’t obscuring his vision so he could at least properly view the people he’d be “adventuring” with. He could just about make out a few in his periphery - there were more semper Fae than he expected and one particularly odorous man in rags. He could hear a new woman storm into the throne room and talk to the emperor using his first name but she was standing too far off to take a good look at her. Eygon considered, on several occasions, to take off his helmet - but he was in too deep now and had to see this through to the end. Besides, he would be too sweaty to show his face to the emperor.

The emperor was exceptionally generous with the arming of adventurers assigned for his mission indeed. As the cloth covered desks rolled into the chamber, Eygon sensed his chest tighten up due to the sheer influx of magical instability that the items hidden underneath the covers emitted. The fact that the emperor then freely allowed them to pick and choose the items enforced how dire the situation really was. As the rest of his party shuffled to pick up their items, Eygon finally followed suit by carefully trying to wander into the crowd, acting like he was always there. Aside from awkwardly nodding at anyone that commenced brief eye-contact with him he was seemingly drawn to a specific ring. Large, bold, and golden, with the small engraving of Solus where a gem would usually rest.

After locking eyes with the ring which resorted in placing him in a deep trance like state, Eygon reached for and was hit with the sudden realisation and rush that left him in a daze. Outwardly he seemed stuck in the spot, staring at the ring as if in love. Inwardly, it took him several seconds to actually remember where he was, before shrinking back into the gathered group.

The Fall of Scorned [A Fantasy Adventure]

I was going to ask you to, that'd also allow you to keep it toned down to whatever degree you want to.

The Fall of Scorned [A Fantasy Adventure]

Updated artifact section on my CS, let me know if it's fine or needs changing.

The Treasure of Emily Gray

The Gray Dynasty: Victor Strade

Current Deployment: Orbit of Mars
Current Time: 16:21, Earth Standard Time, 2207.

Victor had seated himself in the cockpit along with Reika, keeping mostly quiet as he sat back with one leg folded over the other. Not only had he felt too uncomfortable to initiate “small talk” but the journey was a lot shorter than he expected.

As their craft approached the orbit of mars, a signal came through requesting the ship to identify itself and their intentions. Victor leaned forward, activating The Wights communications and speaking in a clear tone: “This is Victor Strade, tactical officer of The Wight, serial number C-9675. Requesting permission to land.” as Victor waited for his credentials to be confirmed, he turned his channel to speak to the rest of the ship: “Crew, we’ll soon be landing. Please ensure that you’ve fastened your seatbelts, and that all luggage and our ship’s mechanic have been stowed away safely” he smirked to himself, finding himself the epitome of comedy.

Leaning back into his chair he spoke, this time to Reika, “Get ready to bring us in once we’ve got the confirmation, will you?” before going back to patiently waiting. Not much time passed before his ships external comms lit up, giving them the requested landing privileges.

The Fall of Scorned [A Fantasy Adventure]

Heya, @Stitches's friend here. Sorry for the delayed CS, but here it is. Let me know if you need me to change anything!

C.S.

Picture

Name- Eygon

Age- 30

Gender- Male

Race- Human

Backstory-
Eygon was born in Yeldemeer, a small town isolated from the rest of the land, as the son of an armourer. Yeldemeer was a quiet and unassuming mining village due to the rocky terrain it was built upon. The few farms that could survive in the environment were only capable of raising large, stocky mountain goats for their milk and wool. These were the self same goats who drew large wagons full of coal and steel bars south towards the capital, to trade for necessary goods such as medicine, food and clothing. It was the sort of place where everyone knew everyone and monotony was a staple part of everyday life.

As a child, Eygon was a rambunctious and mischievous village boy who loved to play tricks on the elders with the other children. Though disapproving, his parents allowed him to run amok as they knew that he would soon end up in the mines. This was a fate that he never had to suffer, however - goblins descended from the mountains during one of their town festivals, razing the village, pillaging the town’s supplies and imprisoning the weakest - Eygon included - to bring back to their filthy mountain lair. It was a nerve-wracking experience for the young boy, to be trapped in a cage surrounded by the stench of burning, rotting manflesh and tormented by putrid monsters, force-fed indescribably awful meals and struck often with sticks or belts. Perhaps it was the acute distress or a willingness to help his friends that awoke within him a comforting warmth, one that he used to calm himself and make others feel better, by forcing his fingertips to glow.

Luckily, this torturous existence did not last long. As he remained huddled in the gloom, a party of heroes had breached the lair and were carving a bloody path through the swarms of goblins. On the one hand he was relieved to finally see a human face that was not pallid and awash with fear, but the enthusiasm that they devoted to their gruesome craft unnerved him. Nevertheless, when a beautiful young woman broke off from the team and used her magic to open all of the cages. She scooped up a terrified Eygon, reassured him that he would be returning to his parents, and lead the terrified children out of the cave.

Yeldemeer was a charred husk of its former self, but the locals were a hardy sort and repairs were already underway. Once reunited with his mother and father, the blonde-haired lady who carried him out had a quiet word with his parents and gave Eygon a little bronze badge that she seemed to draw out of a stone. She and the rest of her party remained in Yeldemeer to help with the repairs for several days. Eygon was constantly at his saviour’s skirts, whom he found out to be called Lady Diamenthia. She was clearly busy with her tasks, but remained somewhat amiable towards the young lad.

Shortly after the Hounds of Eon left, Eygon was sent off to the Imperial Academy of Magic to hone his craft. He was swiftly accepted into the theological division and spent the better half of his academic life studying the pantheon whilst perfecting his mending skills. He spent several years in the academy before being moved into one of the temples of Solus near the capital, where he spent his days assisting and healing the wounded guards in the local area.

Even though he had a well-paid job in a peaceful area of the country, Eygon’s devotion to his work kept him from being too interested in settling into the pleasures of family life. He wanted to focus primarily on his physique; he took on a post as a guard in his town and worked on the rigorous training regime that most soldiers are subjected to from an earlier age. It was difficult but, as it has been with his magic training, it took time and persistence to improve his skills. When the west gate was breached, Eygon immediately volunteered himself for battle and was surprised to learn that his old mentors in the academy had recommended his services to the Emperor himself.

Magical abilities-
Healing Magic: Repairs internal and external wounds.
Holy Magic: Gift of Solus, especially effective against unnatural or dark creatures.

Combat abilities-
Longsword proficiency
Enhanced Strength
Enhanced Stamina

Artifact of Dramoria Band of Communion: Allows the wearer to speak to his or her chosen deity through meditation, primarily to ask up to 3 yes/no questions. At the moment, however, the ability to communicate to the gods is very difficult to successfully manage - and wearing the ring puts a great deal of magical energy through the owner’s body that can be incredibly taxing if the wearer doesn’t know how to control it.

Motive- After showing significant amounts of potential, his mentors recommended him to the Emperor.

The Treasure of Emily Gray

The Gray Dynasty: Victor Strade

Current Deployment: Venus

Victor had watched each crew member disappear to claim their rooms, turning back to seat himself at the terminal that he had previously been searching through. Not long passed before Reika re-appeared, unexpectedly being the fastest one to finish. He ignored her, letting her make her way to the cockpit and accommodate herself with the machine.

So far, she was the enigma. The Grays had given him a copy of all members personal files, each of them possessing a certain degree of detail. All except his new pilot. Her file had barely any personal information; he’d have to either dig deeper over the course of their mission or there was truly nothing of note about her except the possession of experience in flying ships similar to their current one. Victor was determined to run as tight of a crew as possible due to his previous mistake aboard his former flagship resonating deeply within him, refusing to let another “unchecked” member have their way with his plans. That’d have to wait however; they were already behind his schedule and had to use the advantage of free access in Gray secured territory to get a headstart.

Victor launched himself to his feet, finished fidgeting with the terminal, and marched his way towards the cockpit where Reika was getting accustomed with the controls. “I’m glad you’re not snoozing, Saigyo, unlike the others. Get us ready for takeoff, -now-” he accentuated the urgency. “Once we’re in the air, set our route towards Mars, the station closest to the royal palace. Let me deal with clearance once we’re close enough to worry about it.”
Without wasting anymore time, Victor turned to fumble and frustratedly slap around the intercoms and eventually figuring out it’s workings. The speakers positioned around the ship let out heavy metallic thuds before streaming Victors barking voice to the members that were still idling about: “We’re behind schedule and preparing for takeoff. You’ll be getting a run down for our first course of action once we’re off planet. I hope you’ve settled in.” before promptly shutting off the comms from his end.

🇴🇫 🇲🇮🇨🇪 🇦🇳🇩 🇲🇪🇳 🇦🇳🇩 🇿🇴🇲🇧🇮🇪🇸

Elijah
Tackett Farmstead: Makeshift Infirmary

With furrowed brows accentuating his annoyed demeanour, Elijah was busy bandaging the hand of one of the many farmhands that were now under his medical care thanks to the grateful Mr. Tackett who had hired both his and his young niece’s services. His workload was relatively simple: his day was either filled with cuts and bruises that he disinfected and bandaged with ointment or he may be lucky and have to deal with the only real medical threats on a farm like this, which were the illnesses that gripped one man and spread amongst the rest. Today it was a young man named Tobias’ turn to partake in the former. Elijah’s cold demeanor and distaste in socialising had helped to ensure there was nothing but silence during treatments or examinations of the injured. ‘Where does it hurt, what happened, be more careful’ was all that was needed, most of the time.

“I told you to try and avoid soiling your dressings” he broke the silence, scowling judgmentally at the boy who was awkwardly waiting to be let go. “They must be kept fresh, yes, but we don’t have to waste supplies daily now do we?” he paused, staring at the boy but receiving no response except an apologetic nod and a meek ‘Yes sir.’
Elijah let out a sigh and took a step back, motioning towards the door marking the exit of the medium sized shed that was recently dubbed the ‘Infirmary’. Elijah held the door open and followed the boy through, only turning to the corner to dip and wash his hands in the barrel filled with cool water. His mind briefly pondered over Alice; who usually dropped by before attending her own duties.

🇴🇫 🇲🇮🇨🇪 🇦🇳🇩 🇲🇪🇳 🇦🇳🇩 🇿🇴🇲🇧🇮🇪🇸

Elijah Graham

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

Elijah

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

Name

---

Elijah Graham

Age

---

56

Appearance

---

Elijah is a tall, stocky, hairy man with the physique of someone who gained muscle without trying to show off, or perhaps from a lifetime of labour. He has thick dark hair which he combs back, bushy eyebrows, dark eyes and a prominent mustache. More often than not, Elijah has faint stubble around his jawline, perhaps even the beginnings of a beard if he cannot find a razor. His nose is ever-so-slightly crooked and the lines on his face appear to be from decades of frowning. His hands are calloused but their movements are delicate. His nails are kept short for surgery - he wears no wedding ring and there are no indications that he had ever worn one in the past. He has no piercings and no tattoos, but he does have a few scars on his left shoulder, abdomen and knuckles.

Personality

---

Elijah is world-weary. He has seen most of what he needed to see in order to mature, has suffered enough, and consequently has very little time for people who want to make his life harder than it has to be. He has learned how to fight and fight well, but his aggression is held back by his level-headedness and common sense. He knows how to pick his battles and is very aware of his limits. He carries himself with stoicism but there’s a faint warmth to his personality that makes him a little more welcoming than the other farmhands. For Elijah, law and virtue are less of a necessity - you could do anything you like if you could get away with it without being caught. He still operates under his own strict set of morals though, quick to be disapproving or to congratulate people for doing what he saw as ‘the right thing’.

Elijah does not strike the average onlooker as an intellectual and he certainly doesn’t boast about his book smarts, but they exist nonetheless. When he has some free time, he can often be found reading or studying in his chambers. He appears to be used to multitasking and doesn’t sleep as much as your typical farmhand. Waking up early and working hard from the get-go seems to be ingrained into his psyche. He isn’t the most friendly man you’ll get to meet but once you gain his respect he’s loyal, honest and has a ‘tough love’ approach - he tries to be as amiable as possible with his patients from the very start, however, as it is his duty to look after them.

History

---

Elijah grew up on the Graham family ranch all the way out in Kansas. He was the eldest, followed closely by his two sisters - Mary and Jacklyn - and then finally a little brother called Joseph. As the soon-to-be head of the household, Elijah was raised on the farm with the intention of inheriting it. Unfortunately for his parents, his aspirations went beyond the borders of his father’s property. He wanted to follow his own American Dream and take on a high-salary job as a surgeon in one of the big cities, like New York or Chicago.

In order to get his diploma, Elijah had to balance his work on the farm and his revision for his exams at school. This meant long days and short rests, sometimes willing his trembling and blistered hands to write that last paragraph. This life suited him well; he was not so much of a family man but he barely had any friends due to his obligations to the farm, so it wasn’t as if he was wasting his free time mucking around with other boys his age. When he had the chance, Elijah went to the park or the library with the few friends he had left; a bookish irishman, like himself, called Eric and a gangly dark-haired youth named Colton. Time seemed to slip by too quickly for the three of them. Before they knew it, Colton had signed up for military service just a few years before the war and Elijah had his qualifications to study in Jacksonville, Florida.

Whilst he was in the city, he noticed the distinct poverty of marginalised people in the streets. His parents were conservative xenophobes who worsened with the war; Elijah had no reason to concern himself over the jews, queers and negroes who struggled to make a living in and out of the underbelly. Nevertheless, Elijah was an opportunist; he saw a gap in the market. He knew that it was immensely difficult to find a doctor who would be willing to treat homosexuals and people of colour; he knew it was even more difficult for any of these people to become a doctor in the first place. Instead of moving out to one of the bigger cities for work, he decided to start a small practitioner's office in one of the seedier parts of town and, using a small loan from the local bank, bought the cheapest equipment money could buy to set up shop there in Jacksonville. His prices were cheaper than most but his market was narrow; white people could not even tolerate stepping into his GP office for a check-up, meaning he worked almost exclusively on low-income families.

The turnout was surprising. Instead of struggling to make a living, his target customers shilled out a decent amount to finally have a qualified doctor look at their wounds, bumps, rashes and infections that they had previously left to heal or fester. Whilst it did mean that Elijah was overworked and had some pretty nauseating patients to tackle, he found his cool shell of prejudice was beginning to slowly crack and falter. He began to see his patients not as exploitable profit, but as people - people who were immensely grateful for what he has done. Before Eli knew it he had a full address book of friends and found himself frequenting many bars and theatres reserved for coloured people. He similarly got his knuckles bloody a fair few times, both defending himself from those who felt he did not belong and giving a couple of shiners to anybody stupid enough to try and torment his patients. As the years passed he acquired enough money to buy proper gear - then another course for becoming a surgeon - then a house in the countryside.

It was around this time, after Elijah had settled into his new home and fell back into his old country roots of agriculture, that he received a telegram from one of his sisters. It was Jacklyn; she said it was an emergency and that she was travelling to Florida to ask for an irredeemable favour. When she did arrive, it was with a little girl in tow. According to Jacklyn, her husband had died during World War One and she was unable to feed both herself and her little girl, Alice, whilst simultaneously keeping a roof over their heads. She promised Elijah that as soon as she was able she would return to pick up the child. Elijah unquestionably agreed to look after his niece.

Elijah had never given romance much thought; the concept was foreign and unrealistic for him. Marriage, and even children, were practically inconceivable - and yet here he was, suddenly burdened with a ten year old girl and next to no prior experience. The first few months were exceedingly tough. Luckily he was able to get in touch with a few of the families he treated in the past for some life-saving tips. However, since Alice needed a stable education he could not afford to return to Jacksonville so he sold his old office, setting up a makeshift GP office out of his shed and taking commission requests in the surrounding villages.

From then on Elijah did his best to be a father figure for the little girl. He attended all of her pantomimes and talent shows, helped her with her homework and even taught her a thing or two about medicine as she grew up. When she decided that she wanted to try her hand at singing and acting, Elijah begrudgingly paid the fees and called in a few favours from his friends in the city. Whilst she was off learning some valuable life lessons, Elijah had the free time to work on his house a little - he started a proper vegetable garden and made himself a patio. Appointments were slow and often had him out on the trains every week but he usually took bookings for patients to visit his house as well to pad out his income. When the Great Depression hit, money was getting harder and harder to come by. He needed a steady and reliable source of income and somewhere to stay with his niece so he could save more money by avoiding all of the supplementary costs of living in his own property. He found a nearby farm, fairly isolated from the rest of the town, and offered his services as a doctor for bed, board, and a bit of cash.

Speech Color

---

Teal/Gray | #6096a4

Traits

---

Doctor - You have extensive experience in more advanced medical operations. +3
Craftsman - You can build appliances, furniture, and small walls. +1
Quick-Thinking - You can make use of improvised weapons, such as bottles, broomsticks, and fire. +3
Imposing - You are good at intimidating others, due to size or some other factor. +2
Learned - You are literate and have a relatively advanced education, in comparison to the common man. +3

Hot-Headed - It is sometimes difficult for you to think clearly.-2
Abrasive - You are rude, and generally disliked for it. -1
Slow - You cannot move quickly. -2
Loud - Your movements are particularly noticeable. -1
Heavy Eater - You need more food than most. -1
Queer - You are homosexual, which is likely kept a secret. -1

11 - 7 = 4

Inventory

---

Medical Gear
Journal
Money
Snub-nosed revolver

🇴🇫 🇲🇮🇨🇪 🇦🇳🇩 🇲🇪🇳 🇦🇳🇩 🇿🇴🇲🇧🇮🇪🇸

@Stitches's friend here, sorry for the delay! Give it a whirl and lemme know if anythings unacceptable. =)

Elijah Graham

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

Elijah

^{“Sometimes the best answer is the simplest one.”}

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

Name

---

Elijah Graham

Age

---

56

Appearance

---

Elijah is a tall, stocky, hairy man with the physique of someone who gained muscle without trying to show off, or perhaps from a lifetime of labour. He has thick dark hair which he combs back, bushy eyebrows, dark eyes and a prominent mustache. More often than not, Elijah has faint stubble around his jawline, perhaps even the beginnings of a beard if he cannot find a razor. His nose is ever-so-slightly crooked and the lines on his face appear to be from decades of frowning. His hands are calloused but their movements are delicate. His nails are kept short for surgery - he wears no wedding ring and there are no indications that he had ever worn one in the past. He has no piercings and no tattoos, but he does have a few scars on his left shoulder, abdomen and knuckles.

Personality

---

Elijah is world-weary. He has seen most of what he needed to see in order to mature, has suffered enough, and consequently has very little time for people who want to make his life harder than it has to be. He has learned how to fight and fight well, but his aggression is held back by his level-headedness and common sense. He knows how to pick his battles and is very aware of his limits. He carries himself with stoicism but there’s a faint warmth to his personality that makes him a little more welcoming than the other farmhands. For Elijah, law and virtue are less of a necessity - you could do anything you like if you could get away with it without being caught. He still operates under his own strict set of morals though, quick to be disapproving or to congratulate people for doing what he saw as ‘the right thing’.

Elijah does not strike the average onlooker as an intellectual and he certainly doesn’t boast about his book smarts, but they exist nonetheless. When he has some free time, he can often be found reading or studying in his chambers. He appears to be used to multitasking and doesn’t sleep as much as your typical farmhand. Waking up early and working hard from the get-go seems to be ingrained into his psyche. He isn’t the most friendly man you’ll get to meet but once you gain his respect he’s loyal, honest and has a ‘tough love’ approach - he tries to be as amiable as possible with his patients from the very start, however, as it is his duty to look after them.

History

---

Elijah grew up on the Graham family ranch all the way out in Kansas. He was the eldest, followed closely by his two sisters - Mary and Jacklyn - and then finally a little brother called Joseph. As the soon-to-be head of the household, Elijah was raised on the farm with the intention of inheriting it. Unfortunately for his parents, his aspirations went beyond the borders of his father’s property. He wanted to follow his own American Dream and take on a high-salary job as a surgeon in one of the big cities, like New York or Chicago.

In order to get his diploma, Elijah had to balance his work on the farm and his revision for his exams at school. This meant long days and short rests, sometimes willing his trembling and blistered hands to write that last paragraph. This life suited him well; he was not so much of a family man but he barely had any friends due to his obligations to the farm, so it wasn’t as if he was wasting his free time mucking around with other boys his age. When he had the chance, Elijah went to the park or the library with the few friends he had left; a bookish irishman, like himself, called Eric and a gangly dark-haired youth named Colton. Time seemed to slip by too quickly for the three of them. Before they knew it, Colton had signed up for military service just a few years before the war and Elijah had his qualifications to study in Jacksonville, Florida.

Whilst he was in the city, he noticed the distinct poverty of marginalised people in the streets. His parents were conservative xenophobes who worsened with the war; Elijah had no reason to concern himself over the jews, queers and negroes who struggled to make a living in and out of the underbelly. Nevertheless, Elijah was an opportunist; he saw a gap in the market. He knew that it was immensely difficult to find a doctor who would be willing to treat homosexuals and people of colour; he knew it was even more difficult for any of these people to become a doctor in the first place. Instead of moving out to one of the bigger cities for work, he decided to start a small practitioner's office in one of the seedier parts of town and, using a small loan from the local bank, bought the cheapest equipment money could buy to set up shop there in Jacksonville. His prices were cheaper than most but his market was narrow; white people could not even tolerate stepping into his GP office for a check-up, meaning he worked almost exclusively on low-income families.

The turnout was surprising. Instead of struggling to make a living, his target customers shilled out a decent amount to finally have a qualified doctor look at their wounds, bumps, rashes and infections that they had previously left to heal or fester. Whilst it did mean that Elijah was overworked and had some pretty nauseating patients to tackle, he found his cool shell of prejudice was beginning to slowly crack and falter. He began to see his patients not as exploitable profit, but as people - people who were immensely grateful for what he has done. Before Eli knew it he had a full address book of friends and found himself frequenting many bars and theatres reserved for coloured people. He similarly got his knuckles bloody a fair few times, both defending himself from those who felt he did not belong and giving a couple of shiners to anybody stupid enough to try and torment his patients. As the years passed he acquired enough money to buy proper gear - then another course for becoming a surgeon - then a house in the countryside.

It was around this time, after Elijah had settled into his new home and fell back into his old country roots of agriculture, that he received a telegram from one of his sisters. It was Jacklyn; she said it was an emergency and that she was travelling to Florida to ask for an irredeemable favour. When she did arrive, it was with a little girl in tow. According to Jacklyn, her husband had died during World War One and she was unable to feed both herself and her little girl, Alice, whilst simultaneously keeping a roof over their heads. She promised Elijah that as soon as she was able she would return to pick up the child. Elijah unquestionably agreed to look after his niece.

Elijah had never given romance much thought; the concept was foreign and unrealistic for him. Marriage, and even children, were practically inconceivable - and yet here he was, suddenly burdened with a ten year old girl and next to no prior experience. The first few months were exceedingly tough. Luckily he was able to get in touch with a few of the families he treated in the past for some life-saving tips. However, since Alice needed a stable education he could not afford to return to Jacksonville so he sold his old office, setting up a makeshift GP office out of his shed and taking commission requests in the surrounding villages.

From then on Elijah did his best to be a father figure for the little girl. He attended all of her pantomimes and talent shows, helped her with her homework and even taught her a thing or two about medicine as she grew up. When she decided that she wanted to try her hand at singing and acting, Elijah begrudgingly paid the fees and called in a few favours from his friends in the city. Whilst she was off learning some valuable life lessons, Elijah had the free time to work on his house a little - he started a proper vegetable garden and made himself a patio. Appointments were slow and often had him out on the trains every week but he usually took bookings for patients to visit his house as well to pad out his income. When the Great Depression hit, money was getting harder and harder to come by. He needed a steady and reliable source of income and somewhere to stay with his niece so he could save more money by avoiding all of the supplementary costs of living in his own property. He found a nearby farm, fairly isolated from the rest of the town, and offered his services as a doctor for bed, board, and a bit of cash.

Speech Color

---

Teal/Gray | #6096a4

Traits

---

Doctor - You have extensive experience in more advanced medical operations. +3
Craftsman - You can build appliances, furniture, and small walls. +1
Quick-Thinking - You can make use of improvised weapons, such as bottles, broomsticks, and fire. +3
Imposing - You are good at intimidating others, due to size or some other factor. +2
Learned - You are literate and have a relatively advanced education, in comparison to the common man. +3

Hot-Headed - It is sometimes difficult for you to think clearly.-2
Abrasive - You are rude, and generally disliked for it. -1
Slow - You cannot move quickly. -2
Loud - Your movements are particularly noticeable. -1
Heavy Eater - You need more food than most. -1
Queer - You are homosexual, which is likely kept a secret. -1

11 - 7 = 4

Inventory

---

Medical Gear
Journal
Money
Snub-nosed revolver

The Treasure of Emily Gray

The Gray Dynasty: Victor, Abigail, Finn, Reika, Mdazi

Current Deployment: Venus

The door hissed open as a slightly bedraggled and winded young woman came stumbling into the briefing room, holding a black handkerchief to her mouth as she coughed a couple of times. She took a deep breath, pointed at Victor and grinned.

“Told you I’d be on time,” she reported triumphantly as she made a beeline for her luggage. It was clear which ones were hers - the suitcase was horribly beaten up and there was… something else; it was a clunky metal thing, approximately the size of an ice box, covered in stickers with a suitcase-handle. It looked almost industrial and was just as battered as the suitcase.

Victor shot Abigail a warning scowl before turning to address everyone else present in the room.

“We can leave getting acquainted for later.” he indicated, hinting that he’d be starting with their briefing now that the entire crew had assembled...

“My name is Victor Strade, I’ll be taking on the role of your tactical officer for this hunt. As you’re all aware, you’ve been hand selected by Grays for the purpose of discovering the late Emily’s treasure, which, according to the remaining heirs, is believed to be rightfully theirs.”

He paused and placed a folder on the table, opening it up to reveal a hard copy of Emily Gray’s will to use as reference. He then continued, “This is an important expedition with a small crew to accommodate our strategy. Due to the contents of the will hinting towards an investigative treasure hunt, a full scale search of our system would be a cost of resources and time.

"Instead, we begrudgingly have to play Emily Gray’s game and follow the clues which I require all of you to participate in. We have close to no intel regarding any other crew on the hunt, but we have to expect force to be used against us by any and all of them. From here on out we’re all we have; trusting others can be up for discussion, but ultimately something we want to avoid."

He stopped once more, allowing everyone to take everything in and simultaneously taking this time to get another good look at everyone present before continuing. "Any questions so far?”

“Yeah, I have a question...” Reika, the asian woman in black clothes, spoke up. “It’s pronounced ‘White’, but it’s spelled nothing like ‘White’. It'd got a ‘g’ and an ‘h’, like in, uh, ‘enough’. That’s dumb.” She fell silent looking pointedly at Victor as if she expected something from him.

“That's 'cause it's not white - it's Wight,” responded Abigail patiently. “Y’know, like a ghost, a spirit... something that's invisible to the naked eye and evades normal men. A 'g-h' like in 'might', 'slight’, 'fight’, 'light’....” She trailed off quietly, twiddling with her handkerchief before suddenly perking up. “Is our ghost ship on its own or do we get special privileges for trying to bring the Gray's fortune back home?”

“Okay, Ms. Dictionary,” Reika responded, glancing over before someone could answer her pragmatic question, “Got any more words for me?”

Finn shot a worried glance at Strade and the Havikka, hoping that an argument wouldn't break out between the two young ladies.

Victor cleared his throat before the two could further their conversation. “Maybe with the reward we get, you can buy yourself English lessons, Saigyo,” he chirped before continuing with his briefing.

“I’m glad you asked, Harlow. Our strategy will primarily be covert, that means we have to stick with this mining ship. That also means we don’t want to go around flashing any badges and bragging about our task to people that have nothing to do with it. We can get support here and there, clearance… supplies… yadi-yadi-ya...” he trailed off, wafting a hand to gesticulate the final remark.

“Lovely, our high priority support involves skipping toll booths and avoiding speeding tickets,” quipped Abigail with a smile. “And that's miss Abigail 'Dictionary’ Harlow to you, miss Saigyo,” she retorted jovially, pointing a couple of finger guns at the pilot. Saigyo frowned.

“Yeah, well, good. We got rooms in here?” queried Reika.

“Aye, this better not be another case of us all bein’ crammed into some small room,” Finn chimed in, “I've been in too many ships where all I've got is a tiny bed; it's not good for my back and everyone gets grouchy,” he said as he leaned back against the wall and lit his pipe.

Reika nodded in agreement. “Hear that, Victor? Everyone gets grouchy.” Saigyo repeated sagely.

Victor furrowed his brows at being called by his first name, responding, “Yes. Harlow has a copy of the ship plans. Harlow, could you kindly?” he asked her, motioning at the table before the group for everyone to see.

“How come she's able to call you Victor...” muttered Abigail tetchily. Raising her voice, she reported, “Whilst I was ogling the ship I found the plans on the database too, so I can send it to anyone that wants a peek.”

There was a crumpling noise and a slap as she slammed the mess of blueprints down on the table facing the others. “For those who aren't able to interpret the data, I'll give a quick overview - someone gutted a mining Ship and hid a royal class cruiser inside. Must've taken a lot of work to do since the only giveaway are the thrusters on either side, but they could've easily been salvaged for all anyone knows. Everything in here is state of the art... but what I really want to draw your attention to is the Comms system.”

Abigail pointed at one particular paragraph of supplementary print so small that it was hard to read. This was unsurprising, given that some poor engineer had to cram all of the information onto a single A1 sheet of paper for printing. “As it stands there are terminals in every room, corridor and chamber you can think of - even the toilets, be mindful of that - but it looks like I can hook up a set of earpieces for easy communication. Given enough fiddling, I might just be able to extend the range so you can talk amongst yourselves planetside and still send messages to the ship.”

“Very similar to the military hardware we were issued years ago, when I performed combat duties…” the Havikka mused, while sitting on a nearby bench, lowering her cases to the floor. “Will be very useful, presuming the communication antenna does not short-circuit.”

She turned to the engineer, tilting her head back to look her in the eye. “If your ability to mend wires and metal is of the same proficiency of my mending of bones and flesh, I would doubt that such a thing would happen.”

Reika, still leaning against the wall, looked down at the extraterrestrial, a bemused look on her face. “Wait, you’re the doctor?”

Abigail shifted in her seat, giving Reika a dirty look and a quick eye-roll before attempting to busy herself in her blueprints.

Victor quickly chimed in, noticing some minor tension, “Yes, she is. And judging by the personnel file I was given about her, she’s more than competent; something I’ve done with all of you, as well. The importance of this mission is grave, so I’m expecting none of you to faff about. Pick your quarters, set up your luggage, and meet back here to discuss our first course of action,” he practically demanded, eager to get moving.

Reika shrugged in response, before Abigail spoke again. “I'd call dibs on the big room but their dimensions are exact to the micrometre,” Abigail remarked as she hefted her luggage with a grunt. “Try not to miss me too much, Boss,” she jibed.

With a polite nod of her head and an equally respectable “Gentlemen,” Abigail made as swift of an exit as her entry into the briefing room at the start.

Saigyo picked up her cylindrical bag and followed after Abigail, giving the Havikka doctor that she still didn’t know the name of a sidelong look as she went.

The Havikka doctor picked up her cases, and hefted the giant backpack once more. Quizzically, she pondered the girl’s words as she made her way aft to the lower deck access. “I am not gentle, nor a man…”

Stunned by the sudden disappearance of his colleagues Finn let out a puff of pipe smoke before slowly collecting his things and meandering down the corridor after them, with only a quick glance back at Strade to check that he was doing the right thing by leaving.