mickilennial

Gamblers of Vox Fortuna

I'm going to gamble with all of Maxx's hope.

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: The Laughing Worg Tavern -- The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Rael raised a brow as Seele reacted to her remark rather… neutrally. No shrill “oh my god” or anything of the matter.

Perhaps it was due to things she had discovered herself that kept her mind occupied, or the suddent engagement of Graves and Benkei, or maybe Seele was used to Rael’s devil-may-care bluntness of retorts. It was a little amusing, but Rael was admittedly a bit tired. Staying up the entire night had its effects, certainly, and depending on the day itself she was going to have to find a way to adjust. A coffee from Iblenar would’ve solved a lot. Thorinn, or not, there had to be a coffee house somewhere to speak of.

As she considered the thought she looked at Graves, “You’re the one who went inside the Rat King, not me.”

Rael looked back to Benkei, “Yeah. Was a Dungeon underneath the City. So, it pretty much confirms our worst fears that dungeons can spawn anywhere. If we hadn’t cleared it, maybe the city would be having some kind of ratpocalypse right now. Dunno.” She shrugged, tempted to shiver at the thought, “But it’s dealt with.”

Gamblers of Vox Fortuna

MAXX IS A FOOLISH MAN WITH WEAK IDEALS

@TGM

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: City Streets, The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

“Stupid dungeon. Stupid rats.”

Rael grumbled as she walked through the early morning streets of Thorinn, as her fingers tossed a red apple back and forth on her way to the Laughing Worg.

She had spent the entirety of a day and a half in the city sewers—no, beneath the city sewers, because apparently there was a pseudo-labyrinth underneath the city. A labyrinth that turned into a pseudo-dungeon. Graves’ leadership was fine enough and they had found some much needed help in the sewers and none of the newbies they had saved ended up dying. She figured it was a relief and it probably helped Alja’s morale. They didn’t need another Mystic Prophecy situation. The Rat King was a sight to behold, too, a twisted dark fantasy creature with a tiny crown on its oversized head. She wasn’t afraid of rats before, but she was pretty sure she didn’t want one of them to touch her ever again after that.

When they finally got themselves out of the sewers the sun hadn’t even risen. Fortunately, bath houses were open 24/7. Cleaning up and getting a change of clothes from her room in the innhouse room she had rented was nice, though she hadn’t actually gotten much sleep. She had spent the rest of the night sitting on the roof of the innhouse with her sketchbook by herself. Graves had told the archer person... Artemis, that she was welcome to join them at the Worg in the morning. If they were looking for work. Rael had rolled her eyes. The last thing they needed was more people to babysit, but whatever. Graves could be stupid if he wanted to be stupid. She hoped he still smelled like rats.

As Rael reached the tavern she could already hear the bustle of wayfarers and denizens inside. She could hear Seele, because of course Seele would be up at the tavern before most people had eaten breakfast. The red-haired girl sighed disparagingly, as she pushed the doors open with no regard. It did not take her long for her to find a seat near the others, listening idly until Seele asked about the sewer.

“We fell into a dungeon. Not much to tell.” She volunteered before Alja could more-or-less say the same thing as she took a big bite of the apple in her hand.

Snowed "Inn" - A Wintery SoL RP [Full]

@Lemons doesn't have enough games going and can apply to this without regret.

[ dead prairie ]

RIP. Just me and you old man!

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

It would be hours before it became clear that the harmless busywork Kalie, Rael, Graves, and Alja set out for had turned into something far more dire. It wouldn’t be until the next day where the group returned to the Laughing Worg, smelling of sewer water and blood. The rat infestation in the sewers had been handled, but in the process Graves’ group had found themselves in a dungeon beneath the very city, ushering less experienced wayfarers alongside more experienced ones that had found themselves in the same situation. It was a new piece of news to tell Benkei and the rest, the ever-changing notion of dungeons. Everything could happen at a moment’s notice and that safety was never a guarantee. The red-haired Japanese girl supposed that was to be expected, the games lore hadn’t changed, the world just started to play by its own rules.

There was no time to rest, as they would soon learn as the urgency of Seele’s information would come soon. Not to mention Kazuki's knowledge of the changing expectations for wayfarers in the city given the audits and taxes that were being set on them. There was also Artemis, a lone wayfarer Graves and the others had met up with in the mess of rats and sewer water, who had been set upon the same initial mission to cleanse the infestation for the good of the city and their pockets. Their incorporation of the group could be long term, if permitted.

Hours would pass before the group met with Benkei and the others, after a good bath was had.

What Are You Listening To?

Gamblers of Vox Fortuna

My favorite M name is Jaz.

Gamblers of Vox Fortuna

Maeve

Personnel Dossier

---

_Name

Maeve Puckett

_Age

27

_{Physical Evaluation}

Standing at five-foot-seven with pink hair and cerulean eyes, Maeve would be a looker if not for her unkempt appearance and loose-fitting attire. She’s been fighting and jury-rigging tech her whole life and her lack of empathy toward others comes through in her constant lack of facial expressiveness beyond a scowl or frown. She hasn’t smiled in over fifteen years and it shows.

_{Psychological Profile}

Cold
Fair
Honest
Impulsive
Lawful
Temperamental
Ruthless
Violent

_{Background Information}

The three major factions represent at least seventy percent of the planets in the greater galaxy. Where Maeve grew up they never factored in. The Sol Union’s rivalry with the Thedes Empire or its distrust with the North Star League were things you heard about on Luon Prime from people who wanted to start a new leaf, break new bread, and just get away from intergalactic geo-politics. After all, Luon Prime was basically a nowhere planet, formed by the kind of people who wanted to play by their own rules and feign responsibility.

But where the greatest freedom came, so too did the greatest trials. Snake Bigby ran his planet tightly and where freedom came so too did trouble. Brigands and slavers, marauders and thieves, hustlers and enroachers; you name the type of problem and they came to Luon Prime eventually. Maeve’s father was one such person, though the details were murky and Maeve didn’t ask much. All she knew is that her father came for a second chance and before she was born became one of the more successful tin stars on the planet. Maeve’s mother was an engineer, a mechanic. Born on Luon and committed to never leaving Luon, and it was through her that Maeve was taught everything from tuning a good firearm to using a toolkit on a frame to make sure it could sputter through the next fight.

There were constant worries growing up. Her parents protected the sector five line on the planet from bad people and worse creatures. It was only ironic that her father was shot and killed in front of her, at dinner, when she was fourteen-years-old rather than in the field doing his job as a man of law. Maeve can’t even recall much of it. ‘cept the man she tracked down for years after-the-fact that did the deed.

In a normal world she would’ve followed in her father’s footsteps, stayed on Luon after she buried the man that ruined her life. But she couldn’t stomach it. Somehow she moved on and found herself a member of a crew. Gamblers of Vox Fortuna. Some of them had helped her track down who she was looking for and she owed favors and she found comforting to do something with some passive idea of purpose. This was four years—four galactic cycles—ago. She still is amongst gamblers. Might be a gambler until she’s in the ground like her father is.

Exoframe

---

_Designation

Lone Star

_{Weight Class}

Heavy

_Description

Obadiah Puckett, Maeve’s paternal grandfather, was the first one to fly the Lone Star. A heavy bipedal maiden standing at about 35.6 feet willing to dish out as much damage as it can take, it has served in countless conflicts from well before Andrew Puckett arrived on Luon Prime and married an engineer who knew how to patch up two generations of damage and retrofitted outdated power capacitors with better ones. It is a exoframe meant to be a damage dealer with various slots for exterior back-mounted armaments. The armor is thick, though it is one of the slower and less versatile exoframes based on some of Maeve’s contemporaries among her fellow gamblers.

_{Equipment and Armament}

The Lone Star, as described, is about dealing damage and taking damage. It may be exactly why Maeve survived the battle with her lifelong enemy and came out on top, but a lot of the bruising the Lone Star took in a fight that it was outgunned and outnumbered still remain. The power capacitors need upgrades, the armor is in imperfect shape, and the radar system works imperfectly. But Maeve has little money to her name and is in dire need of a credit line. The systems that work efficiently can be surmised below.

• Twin-Mounted ExoStarr™ Light Guns: The twin light machineguns that sit underneath the maw of the pilot’s cabin are the first line of offense for the Lone Star. Plasma-infused shells spin at a fast rate to cause integral armor damage to Maeve’s enemies.

• SCORPIO™ Heavy Rockets: Largely out-paced by the competing Hornet Hunter Seeker Missles, Mbraxo’s stronghold over explosive processing centers on several planets allows them to produce more of them even if they aren’t as efficient. A good pilot can upgrade the targeting system, anyway, right? It’s a constant thought for Maeve, but Mbraxo rockets are cheap and plentiful and they get the job done.

• Heavy Armor Plating (50% INTEGRITY): It needs a new sheet of metal, but the Lone Star’s armor is one of the benefits of its model and the modifications made through three generations of pilots. Nobody has killed a pilot while they are in the machine yet.

• Silverstar Light Rail Gun (OUT OF ORDER): Technically inoperable due to a lack of maintenance and power routing, the Silverstar Light Rail Gun is almost two generations old and the last time the Lone Star used it in a fight Maeve wouldn’t even born for another twelve years. She’s thought about updating it and repairing it, but railguns are as expensive as they are powerful.