Red Death

[NicTei]

One man hopes to atone for his sins, but how?

Well, that's where you come in.  I started this to dispel some Writer's Block, at the suggestion of a fellow Tomeian who seems to have kicked some Writer's Block ass herself, though I had to take a few days to narrow the ideas down to this one.

I've written the prologue (which will be up shortly) and I'm going to do Chapter 1 today as well, and I hope to get this one written up on a weekly basis.  That depends on suggestions, though, so I have relatively little say.

Without further adieu, I present to you, my fellow Tomeians, Red Death


Chapters
Prologue - Click Here
Chapter 1 - Click Here
Chapter 2 - Click Here
Chapter 3 - Click Here
Chapter 4 - Click Here
Chapter 5 - Click Here
Chapter 6 - Click Here
Chapter 7 - Click Here
Chapter 8 - Click Here
Chapter 9 - Click Here
Chapter 10 - Click Here
Chapter 11 - Click Here

[Burningplain]

The voice is Price's daughter somewhat aggravated spouse, to whom she is engaged and is wishes to know why he hasn't been allowed to see his betrothed in quite some time. His Name is Sir Harold Vincent, a warrior without compare, a man of peerless honour etc. Basically he is the epitome of the stuck up, ponce knight.

[Chinaren]

Mmm, interesting stuff.  Tough one for the door too.

I'd say it was that weapons inspector again, but he didn't happen  so it has to be a rival collector who's just heard of the theft, and incidentally had one of his ancient 'Eyes of Distance Seeing' stolen.

 

[NicTei]

I'd say it was that weapons inspector again, but he didn't happen  so it has to be a rival collector who's just heard of the theft, and incidentally had one of his ancient 'Eyes of Distance Seeing' stolen.

Hm...hadn't thought of other collectors being involved in thefts...I'll have to consider that!   And who's to say that the weapon inspector can't show up now after having followed them for a while?  ...what?  He can be persistent, can't he?

The voice is Price's daughter somewhat aggravated spouse, to whom she is engaged and is wishes to know why he hasn't been allowed to see his betrothed in quite some time. His Name is Sir Harold Vincent, a warrior without compare, a man of peerless honour etc. Basically he is the epitome of the stuck up, ponce knight.

Um...I dunno how well a knight would fit in here.  I know that most of the guys I've got involved in the actual fighting have swords, but this is just a few (probably three) years after the advent of the firearm, so the soldiers here are more likely to be the guys wearing red coats and poofy hats with muskets, as opposed to shining armor and broadswords.  As for the daughter, I have a plan for her that would be...complicated with a fiance, but nothing that I couldn't work around.

[Burningplain]

Well if its set a couple of years after the advent of fire arms then redcoats aren't running around yet and won't be for a couple of centuries. Early fire arms stuff tended more towards what you see in Assassin's creed. We're talking muskets right?

[NicTei]

Well, I hadn't wanted to make a timeline public, but I've gotta to sort this out, really.   It doesn't deal with actual years, of course; it's just in relation to Red Death's age in this bizarre little world I've concocted that's full of references that no one seems to see.

6 - Parents killed, murderer takes him in to teach him swordsmanship (this is happening all over the world due to the debut of the firearm and the inevitable obselescence of the sword)
13 - Mentor killed; on his own
16 - Takes first job with Price
17 - Meets Black Lotus
18 - Firearms see first widespread application (war)
20 - Quits the mercenary business, goes into hiding
23 - Events of Red Death

...so there's a little more than three years between now and the appearance of guns. -_-;  My bad.  So really, it's been about 17 years since the first gun was fired, though why it took 12 years for them to start using guns in war is beyond me.  Just another little quirk about this world that I have to figure out.

Basically, I see a place that's transitioning from guys in aluminum foil to guys wearing brightly colored clothes that are shocked when they've been spotted and shot.

...I don't recall muskets in Assassin's Creed...

[Thunderbird]

I'm glad this one has been on a long pause.  Gave me a chance to catch up to the chapter and offer a suggestion!

Love this story by the way.  The writing is absolutely superb.  Though I did find one little niggle point

and if memory served him correctly, even Price’s guest rooms were furnished more comfortably than even the most expensive hotel.

  The repetitive 'even' didn't work for me as I read through it.  I get the point of both being there but I'd suggest to reword.

Otherwise, yeah, loving this tale!

Ok, so I'm thinking that eye is going to become a big clue when we meet someone who's missing one.

And on the other side of the door is the local authorities of course.  Judging by the way their demands have been worded.  They are after him for the very criminal acts it took to get the spear in the first place, namely having stolen it from an Illuminati member with ties to the head of the state.  Try that on.

[NicTei]

A poll has been put up; get to voting while you can!  Ideally, I'd start on this one tomorrow, but since that would give you only a few hours to vote, I'll hold off a little longer.  I'm eager to start writing on this one (or anything), and the temptation to start something new is excruciating.

With extensive plays of Halo and now Mass Effect, I'm becoming sorely tempted to start a Sci-Fi war epic sorta story, but I've also got a few other storylines written down in my 'Mental Runs' notebook that was always on my person in school (which is actually almost full, whereas my other notebooks for each year have never really filled further than halfway), so I've pretty much hit a very unstable state of writer's block.

In other words:  vote and save me from my swiftly shattering mind.

[Chinaren]

Voted, and created a three way tie. 

[Burningplain]

A 3 way tie? Oh dear god, we need a fourth person to vote!

[NicTei]

Fourth person right here.  Gonna vote, though I'm seriously tempted to just combine all of them into one:  Price's fiance is a rival collector who's lost something and one of the local authorities who's being backed by an Illuminatus.

...

Y'know what?  That actually isn't that bad.  I think I'm going to combine them because it'll give me such a bizarre, complex character.  Seriously.  The police connection could be a front to hide his less than legal acquisitions of some artifacts in his collection, one of which could have been on loan to the Illuminatus; both of them witnessed the theft as the artifact was switching hands...

Or something like that.  Either way, I think I'll be combining these.  Gonna start writing it up now.

[Chinaren]

Sounds good to me Nice. 

[NicTei]

   After an intense silent debate that included a few mouthed profanities and obscene gestures, Red Death growled and stormed towards the door.  His sword was ready in case whoever was outside became violent upon entry, though judging by word choice, they were dealing with a local authority figure.  Cautiously, he opened the large door.  The minute a small crack of daylight appeared between the door and the frame, the figure pushed through roughly, throwing the door wide open.

   Instinctively, Red Death jumped back and brought his sword up to defend himself, but that wasn’t necessary.  The man that had burst through the threshold wasn’t even paying attention to him.  Instead, he was glaring about the antechamber, as if he’d find Lord Price standing there.  To be honest, Red Death wouldn’t have been surprised if he were; he’d probably have heard the commotion by now and come out to the balcony overlooking the entryway to see what was going on.

“Come on out, Price!  I demand to see Lenore!” the man bellowed, completely ignoring the two mercenaries that were now standing side-by-side, arms crossed over their chests, glaring at him.

   Aside from an authoritative voice, the man was otherwise unremarkable.  Well-groomed, yes, but still nothing special.  Bright golden hair streamed down his back into curls that just barely qualified as being manly, contrasted by a navy blue military-styled jacket.  To complement the jacket, he was also wearing a flintlock at his waist, a saber sheathed in a heavily ornamented black scabbard on the opposite hip.  The blade didn’t look sturdy enough to stand up to one of Red Death’s broadswords, but the mercenary knew that a sword’s strength depended on the forger’s techniques.  Based on the newcomer’s build, he could at least match Red Death in a fist fight.  If the masked mercenary were an average man, that is.

“As entertaining as it is to watch you yell, I’d like to know who you are and why you’re here,” Black Lotus suddenly snapped, catching his attention.

   His eyes froze on her for a second, just south of her chin and north of her waist, and Red Death grinned; that was the reaction just about every man had when they saw her, and he couldn’t think of one occasion where it wasn’t fairly deadly.  Fortunately for the man, Black Lotus seemed to be more interested in answers than punishing his brief lecherous glance, and didn’t pursue action.  When he recovered, he addressed her imperiously.

“I am Officer Dupin, here on official business concerning Lord Price,” he said, staring down his nose at her, “and I will not settle for speaking with his hired thugs.”

“Would you care to run that by me again, officer?” Red Death replied dangerously, raising his sword to point the tip at the policeman.

“And if your official business concerns Lord Price, then why are you demanding to see his daughter?” Black Lotus added, arching an eyebrow at him.

Unexpectedly, the guy caved.  “Look, I just want to see my fiancée, ask her father about the theft, go home, and soak my foot in some soapy water!  I have a blister that’s killing me!”

Red Death rolled his eyes and returned his blade to its sheath.  “Calm down.  Lord Price is still sleeping, but you’re welcome to wait for him down in the dining hall if you wish.”

“Or,” a voice rasped from the balcony above them, “you can simply turn around and leave my home now.”

   Standing with the support of a cane, Roderick Price was staring imperiously down his crooked nose at the officer, contempt apparent in his hollow eyes.  Slowly, he left the balcony and started down the stairs, pausing a few steps from the bottom as a fit of coughing nearly doubled him over.  Eventually, he reached them and stood staring at Officer Dupin.

“I’ve already told you that wedding affairs have been settled.  You have no further business here until the ceremony,” the old man said coldly.

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong!” the officer replied, all traces of his earlier whine gone.  “I come bearing a message from Lord Shelley.”

“That fool of a collector?  I highly doubt that his message is any different than his so-called ‘collection’:  worthless, especially to one such as myself,” Price scoffed.

Officer Dupin deflated visibly.  “Well, I’ve got to deliver the message, sir…”

“Oh, alright.  If it will stop your incessant whining,” Price relented.

“Ah, that’s better!” the officer said, beaming.  “Lord Shelley would like you to know that he’s prepared to take legal action if you don’t return his Eye of Distant Sight.”

Again, Price scoffed.  “What use would I have for that buffoon’s useless trinket?  You tell Lord Shelley that he can take his ‘Eye of Distant Sight’ and shove it straight up his-”

   Before Price could finish his sentence, a loud gunshot sounded from somewhere outside, followed by one of the large windows shattering.  Cursing in unison, both Red Death and Black Lotus dove to the floor, showered with shards of broken glass.  After the initial shot, a volley of gunfire broke through the stunned silence that had barely begun to settle over the quartet in the antechamber.  From the sounds of it, there were at least a dozen shooters, all aiming at the front of the house.  Obviously, Price had more enemies than friends.

   Rising to a crouching position, Red Death made a dash towards the doors that led into the dining hall, Black Lotus right behind him.  Officer Dupin followed suit, dragging Lord Price along the floor behind him.  Slugs could be heard slamming into the main doors, and muffled shouts were growing louder; whoever was attacking was actually going to try and get into the mansion.  Pushing the doors to the dining hall shut, Red Death grabbed one of the long tables and pulled as hard as he could, upending it with a loud grunt so that it formed a barricade across the doors, which opened inwards.

“This should buy us some time.  There are probably others coming in through different entrances,” he said quietly, eyeing the large window on the other end of the dining hall warily.

“Who the hell did you piss off now, Price?” Black Lotus hissed at the Lord of the Manor.

“I’m a collector.  I irritate numerous people on a daily basis,” Price retorted.

“Anyone with a small army?” Red Death sneered.

“That does narrow it down to a few dozen possibilities,” Price mused.

“We’re all going to die, aren’t we?  They’re going to break through the doors and shoot us!  Oh, God, I hope they don’t want to have their way with us first!” Officer Dupin was crying, curled in the fetal position underneath one of the other tables.

“Glad to see the tax money is going to a good cause,” Red Death muttered under his breath.

“There’s a tunnel under the grounds in the basement that will take us to the river.  I have a boat waiting there in case something like this happens,” Price explained as another burst of gunfire erupted in the antechamber.

“There’s more in the back!” Black Lotus shouted; she was crouched under the windowsill, peeking up over the edge.  “I count at least twelve.  Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

“I don’t want to die a virgin!  Well, if the only alternative is these brutes, I guess I could stand it, but I’ve never even seen a woman naked!” Officer Dupin wailed.

“Shut up!” Red Death roared, but his words were lost in another volley of gunfire that shattered the back window, Black Lotus swearing as she rolled away from the falling glass.

   Red Death had no chance to assess this new addition to the chaos; Edgar and William burst through one of the side doors of the dining hall.  William had been shot, and was bleeding from a wound on the shoulder.  Edgar seemed fine, though there was a line on his neck from where a bullet had grazed him.  The swordsman glanced at the main doors and the table across them before replicating the barricade, throwing the nearest table against the door.

“What’s the plan, boss?” Edgar asked, looking to Price.

“Ask him,” Price answered, pointing at Red Death.

The masked mercenary sighed.  “I hate you all.”



Short one this time, sorry.  Anyways, just in case it isn't quite clear, we've got some options this time around!
1.  Basement passage for a retreat!
2.  Stand with Black Lotus; fight 'em off!
3.  Whatever alternative you can come up with!

Suggestion phase...COMMENCE!!

[Thunderbird]

LOVE this story so I've  duly marked it for reading when I have some time later.

[Chinaren]

Ha! Great new character there Nice!  He needs to stick around and annoy the mercs some more I think.  Hehe.

Anyway, maybe they can send the new kid out as a distraction, and then flank the attackers.

Meh, that's all I have. 

[Burningplain]

 , loving officer Dupin. Brilliant chapter Nictei. It's clear they are outnumbered and out gunned. I think we'll go with basement-tunnel-river-boat. But when they get there, they find that the attacker's leader and his elites are there.

[NicTei]

So we've got two options that are favored then?  Alright, I'll put it to a poll, though to be honest, I think China's a little contradictory in his suggestion:  keep the new kid around to annoy the mercs, but send him out as a diversion?  Oh well; he may be immortal. >.>

Also, I've finally got around to adding a chapter list on the OP (original post; I'm learning lots from ForgeHub ), and I plan on keeping it at least somewhat up-to-date with the 'suggestion phase,' 'voting,' and 'in progress' status on the unwritten chapter that readers are awaiting.

In summary:  a two-option poll here, regardless of what options were presented in the story, a shiny new chapter list, and an author who's itching to get back to writing.

Voting...COMMENCE!!

[Chinaren]

I think China's a little contradictory in his suggestion:  keep the new kid around to annoy the mercs, but send him out as a diversion?  Oh well; he may be immortal.

Mmm, maybe they could attach a rope to him and then pull him back when he's been shot up. 

Anyway 'ted and winning. 

[Burningplain]

~in an off key, musical tone~ We need someone to be a tie breaker.
~in his normal voice. ~ I'm serious about that.

[Thunderbird]

Ok... finally caught up!  Still loving the tale, Nic!

[NicTei]

   Another barrage of gunfire came through the window, slugs implanting themselves in the table and chairs.  Red Death cursed; he hated guns.  They were one of the main reasons that he’d quit being a mercenary initially.  It didn’t matter to him that the slugs moved slow enough to his eyes that he could stop them with his swords if the need arose; Black Lotus could stop them far easier than he could, and she hated guns as much as he did.  They were too loud, and gave away your exact position to the enemy.  As he’d learned from his mentor, the only good enemy is an oblivious enemy.

   Even with his hatred of guns, he knew what he had to do.  Lunging for Dupin, he tore the officer’s pistol out of the holster before rushing towards the door that Price had indicated led to the basement, where they would find the tunnel.  Kicking it down, he aimed the flintlock down the empty hallway, waiting for someone to pop their head around the corner.  Nothing happened, and he began motioning for the others to follow.  Black Lotus got up first, rushing gracefully through the door despite a scarily accurate slug knocking her hat askew.  Edgar, with Price safely in tow, was next, followed by his brother and Dupin.  The moment Red Death shut the door behind him, he heard the attacking forces finally burst through the dining hall doors.

   Sprinting down the hallway to catch up to the others, he cursed when he nearly knocked over a man in a dark green military uniform, black bars across the chest.  Equally startled, the man hesitated to aim his rifle until Red Death’s sword was already out of the sheath.  By the time he raised it into firing position, it was far too late.  With speed that seemed to defy the laws of physics, Red Death had stepped past him, left a deep cut in his chest, and sheathed his blade.  Blood exploded out of the wound as the man fell, and though the mercenary was sorely tempted to question the dying man, he knew that he had far more important things to do.

“What took you so long?” Black Lotus asked when he finally caught up to them at the bottom of the cellar stairs.

“I ran into some trouble,” he answered with a shrug.

“You!  Give me back my pistol this instant!  That is an officer’s weapon, not meant for the hands of some ruffian!” Dupin shouted, pointing dramatically at Red Death.

   In response, Red Death hurled the pistol at him with a flick of his wrist.  The barrel connected with Dupin’s forehead, the force of the throw knocking him backwards onto the floor, where his head struck the edge of a slightly raised tile.  He wasn’t going to be getting back up any time soon.  Will laughed as Edgar slung the unconscious man over his shoulder, making sure to slip the pistol back into the holster.

“Why he’s using a flintlock when everyone else has upgraded to a revolver, I’ll never know,” the swordsman remarked.

“Maybe he longs for the good old days, where he could miss one shot and spend the next five minutes reloading under enemy fire?” Will guessed.

“If you want to get out of here alive, I’d suggest we stop dawdling.  Move those barrels over there; the tunnel entrance is just behind them,” Price interrupted, indicating a stack of wooden barrels in the far corner of the cellar.

   Black Lotus didn’t waste any time.  Crossing the room, she grabbed one of the barrels in the middle of the stack by the rim and tugged sharply backwards.  The entire stack collapsed quickly, revealing a gaping hole.  There were torches set into the walls of the tunnel, but they weren’t lit, and in the darkness they couldn’t see past a few feet in.  Price rummaged around in his coat for a second before producing a matchbook, with which he lit one of the closest torches.  In the dim orange glow, he lit the other and passed it to Will, who immediately started down the tunnel, passing the flame to the other torches along the way.

“Did you have to do that to the barrels?  We could’ve used them to block the entrance again,” Red Death asked Black Lotus.

“Step aside, boy,” Price answered, hobbling to the entrance.

   He muttered something for a moment before tapping his cane on the ground.  One of the characters nearest the top of the cane flashed white for a split second.  As Red Death watched, the barrels lifted back into position, once again covering the entrance to the tunnel.  Price turned to see everyone else looking at him, with the exception of Will, who was further down the stony corridor cursing about stubbing his toe on a rock.  The lord of the manor shrugged.

“Are you really surprised?” he asked.

“Magic.  That was magic,” Edgar said, staring at his employer.

“Of course it was.  What, did you honestly disbelieve in the existence of magic, even in the presence of my collection?” Price retorted irritably.

“I assume you’ll be dousing the torches as we go?” Red Death interrupted.

“What do you take me for, a fool?  Stop asking stupid questions and get moving; they’ll be here any moment and I’d rather not let them see the torchlight,” Price answered.

   No one argued.  With Edgar leading the way, still carrying Dupin, they made their way down the tunnel, each tap of Price’s cane extinguishing any torches that they had passed.  Will was long gone, probably waiting at the boat by now.  He’d also missed a few torches, leading to a couple of instances wherein Red Death nearly tripped on an uneven part of the floor or fell into a small dip in the stone.  After walking for what felt like hours, they finally reached the end of the escape route, stepping out into sunshine just in time to hear another gunshot.

“Will!” Edgar bellowed, dumping Dupin unceremoniously on the ground as he rushed towards the prone form of his brother.

   Roughly three yards away from where Will was lying on the ground, eight people were standing in front of the dock, one of which was just lowering a revolver.  All of them were wearing matching green uniforms, though only seven of the jackets had black bars across the front.  The man standing roughly in the center of the group had numerous medals decorating his chest, and a pair of rifles slung across his back.  A thick handlebar mustache adorned his upper lip, below steely grey eyes that were fixed on Red Death.  A sabre was fastened around his waist, secure in its scabbard, while on the other hip he wore a flintlock, much like Dupin.

“As Commander of the Secret Brigade, I demand the five of you stand down, or suffer a similar fate to this poor wretch!” he called to them in a deep voice dripping with authority.

“Are you going to surrender?” Price asked Red Death.

   Red Death exchanged a quick glance with Black Lotus and smirked; they were both thinking the same thing.

“I’ll take the four on the right, including the big guy,” he said as he drew both swords.

“You’re assuming that I’m leaving any for you at all!” she retorted as she rushed forward, hand on the hilt of her sword.

   In the time it took the two mercenaries to close the distance between them and the soldiers, rushing past Edgar, who was kneeling beside his brother, only three men had managed to draw their pistols.  Leaping into the air, Red Death descended on the two men farthest to the right, running one through with one blade while he disarmed the other, following up with a slash to the young man’s back.  A few feet away, Black Lotus dispatched three of them with one wide slash, essentially disemboweling the lot of them.  This left the commander and two more of his underlings.

“Pierre, Raoul, stop them!” the commander ordered.

   Before Red Death could dispatch the man closest to him, he had drawn his own sabre and blocked both swords while reaching for his pistol.  Black Lotus found herself similarly blocked by the other soldier; clearly, they were a step above the other five.  Ducking back, Red Death blocked the soldier’s sabre with one sword while a well-placed thrust of his other blade sheared the holster off of the soldier’s belt, separating him from his pistol.

   Instead of making things easier, this didn’t seem to have much effect on the fight at all.  The soldier, Pierre, blocked Red Death’s blade perfectly every time, and always in a way that he could simply shift the position of his sabre to block the other sword as it came towards him.  No matter what Red Death did, his opponent seemed to be one step ahead of him each time.  A loud curse from behind him told him that Black Lotus was having a similar problem, though he reasoned that she only had one sword and would therefore be easier to block.  As a counterpoint, however, he recalled that she was fast, probably too fast for any run-of-the-mill infantryman to keep up with.  Whoever these guys were, they had some serious skill.

   To make matters worse, when he looked up he saw that the commander was advancing on Edgar, pistol aimed directly at the swordsman’s head.  While he had no love for the murderer, his own personal code of conduct prevented him from allowing an unarmed man to be killed in front of him; Edgar had dropped his sword when running to Will’s side.  Cursing underneath his breath, he acted purely on impulse.  Stepping in closer to his opponent with their blades locked, he savagely threw his head forward, their foreheads colliding.  Gritting his teeth against the pain and forcing himself to focus through the haze that had erupted into his mind, he whirled around and threw his sword at the shape of the commander.

   With almost inhuman speed, the commander sidestepped, and the sword stabbed into the ground beside Edgar.  Fortunately, this snapped Edgar out of his apparent trance, and he picked up Red Death’s sword.  Nodding to the mercenary, he advanced on the commander, who had just drawn his own sabre.  Why he didn’t use the pistol was beyond the mercenary, but at that moment he didn’t particularly care; he had the other soldier to worry about.

   Spinning around just in time to block his opponent’s sabre, Red Death started to push back towards the river, clearing his mind and simply letting his instinct take over.  His head was still swimming, so there was no real point in trying to think his motions through.  Another loud curse cut through his thoughts, this time from Black Lotus’ opponent.  She was suddenly at his side, kicking Pierre into the river before calling for Price.  Gripping his wrist, she dragged him onto the dock and shoved him into the boat before turning around for Red Death, who was just beginning to think clearly again. 

   Instead of running for the boat, however, he raced towards the commander, who was on the verge of killing Edgar after disarming him.  Picking his sword up from the ground where it had landed and slamming it back into the sheath, he tackled the commander to the ground.  Rolling back to his feet, he picked up Edgar’s sword from where it lay in the grass and pulled the swordsman up.

“Well, it was fun, commander, but we really must be going,” he said as he passed the downed military man, kicking him to ensure that he stayed down.

   The rest of the brigade seemed to have finally caught on, as gunfire erupted around them once more as they dashed for the boat, which Price had already cast off of the dock.  Leaping from the rotting wood, they barely managed to keep the boat upright when they landed.  Price dipped his cane in the water once, and the boat lurched forward, the current suddenly moving a lot faster.  In a matter of minutes, they had left Price Manor, the Secret Brigade, and Officer Dupin behind, though whether or not Price had forgotten the officer or simply left him on purpose, Red Death couldn’t tell.  He wasn’t sure he cared, either.



So, the SP is as follows:  where do they wind up on this little river ride?  Do they run into more of the Secret Brigade?  Does little Timmy ever make it out of the well?  Suggestions, please!

[Chinaren]

Nice one!  Good to see there are opponents they can't just sweep aside.  I'm sure we'll be seeing more of them in the future.

For now though, I say they end up in some kind of hoity toity area where weapons aren't allowed.  Finally allowing that weapons inspector to step forth.

As a second thought, maybe the reason weapons aren't allowed is that everyone is a shapeshifter, easily able to grow claws and teeth and so on, and weapons are seen as boorish. 

[NicTei]

Anyone else?  I've already started something new (that none of you will see, sadly) while waiting for any more suggestions on this, but if China's the only one, I'll get right back to writing with 'town of shapeshifters' (though I hadn't really envisioned gratuitous fantasy elements in this story).  I'll leave it open for another day or so (will be otherwise engaged Friday), so if anyone else has a suggestion, let's hear it!

[Chinaren]

The shapeshifting could be made possible by some kind of steampunk implant device, if that helps. 

[Burningplain]

They arrive in a small independent city state called Pipograd. There the Black Lotus and Red Death are welcomed as heroes for they broke the siege that almost saw the city destroyed. Edgar and the Price are met with suspicion and distrust.

[NicTei]

Not much to say other than:  Poll is up.  Get cracking.

[Chinaren]

Cracked, and winning.

[NicTei]

Um...right.  This one.  Well, as you might have guessed, Red Death will be on hiatus until I finish Another Zombie Apocalypse.  If I reach a place on AZA where I have to take a break, however, and mull over a point in the chapter or plot, I'll be sure to fiddle with the next chapter of this, though I think I'm done with ITs. 

I can never seem to master the suggestion implementation, and realize now that I use ITs as a way to get a single concept (such as a scene or a character) into a story by making everyone else give me plot and supporting cast.

So, I'll try to finish this one, but don't be surprised if it ends up dead in the water.

[NicTei]

...a tie?  I really hate you guys.  I'mma merge the two suggestions, then.  They'll end up in a little town where weapons aren't allowed and the two mercenaries are hailed as heroes because...um...something.  Saved the mayor, or more likely that siege Burpy mentioned.

I'll get going on this one shortly.

[NicTei]

Huh.  Someone came by and voted since the last post here.  Oddly enough, I've been getting the urge to continue this one recently, so as soon as I've got the next chapter of AZA figured out, I very well may give this one a go.

So you may be getting two chapters in NiceTea's explosive summer return to Tome!

...or not.  In all likelihood.  Probably not.



EDIT:  I may be removing the 'Shapeshifter' part, as I really don't want to include too many fantasy elements.

[Chinaren]

Glad you're looking at getting this one going again Nice.