- Joined
- Jun 29, 2012
- Messages
- 4,441
- Reaction score
- 34,451
- Points
- 673
- Age
- 34
Patrons would be going about their business in the Mossy Poss like any day, though in light of recent events, either celebrating the victory of "freedom" or plotting revenge in loyalty to the false Beggar King. A sudden disturbance would catch the attention of those present and entering, a sudden flash and a puff of green smoke formed in the very middle of the mossy poss. Immediately some patrons dashed aside, expecting another fight to break out, some even preparing to dodge without missing and cast a fireball, some patrons even leaned against the walls, smirking, but when the smoke cleared there was only just a man. A man with a cane. The man was very frail and looked middle aged with a stupid set of glasses on his nose, a crooked grin, dressed in fancy noble brocades. A person next to the man had inhaled some smoke and was in the middle of a violent coughing fit. The stranger that had just appeared looked down at the person who was losing his footing, and the stranger winced as if he could feel the pain of the person. As the person now started foaming from the mouth and rolling on the floor, the stranger exclaimed with an almost elated tone:
"Oh be careful person of low interest, this smoke is quite toxic I'm afraid".
He let out a quick giggle behind that sentence, to add onto the sarcasm as the person on the floor was now breathing their last. When he definitely stopped moving, the stranger poked him with his cane a few times before dainty stepping over him while muttering "Oops". As he passed the now corpse, he swung his cane under his arm to look at the rest of the crowd, some still standing in battle ready pose. The stranger had a somewhat apologetic or confused look on his face before he said:
"What? I did warn him! That was his own fault really."
There was a moment of silence as the stranger's eyes darted from patron to patron, looking for some form of confirmation. Before the bartenders and the local fighters could pick a fight with the stranger however, he opened his mouth again and started prancing around the establishment while he loudly proclaimed his messages:
"My name, is l'Outre. I suppose I should have a different name but it's rather inconsequential. Because you see, I am what the Beggar King's Council calls The Messenger."
He made excessively eccentric airquote gestures when he referred to his title, it was very obvious this l'Outre was a very eccentric individual. Given the recent turmoil around the idea of the Beggar King, the man was given some silence by the crowd, if only for pure curiosity. He thus continued:
"The Beggar King's Council or the Shadow Union or whatever you lot want to call them would like to officially congratulate you on being absolutely and pointlessly - Useless. For a while now since the death of previous Beggar King some ten years back, the Council has been looking for a replacement, but it seems the average intelligence or persistence and tenacity of the sewers dwellers has sank deeper than that of a common swamp frog."
He let out a small giggle again before muttering: "Funny creatures they. Did you know they kill themselves to save their mate if they are endangered, even though swamp frogs are never monogamous?"
He paused for a moment before continuing again:
"I digress. Or regress. Honestly I'd not like to end up like you lot thinking and acting on meaningless things. The point is!! The point. Is. Up there. They are rich. They are affluent. They have manpower and endless resources. The Beggar King was once feared there. Even the Emperor had an ear to listen to what the Beggar King had to say. And look at the lot of you now, squandering over a stinking rat hole like this, barely even feet away from the same shit tunnels that carry the feces from the people above. The surface dwellers, are literally taking a poop on you all!"
He tapped the cane a couple of times on the wooden floor to put emphasis behind his statement before he rattled on:
"The Beggar King Council had set out riddles and tasks for potential successors for months, but all failed to deliver. There was even one chap, I've forgotten his name by the Spirit, who thought he could outsmart the Beggar King Council by saying he shouldn't give away his secrets because that would be bad business or whatever. Needless to say he was struck off the list of potential successors for being a useless tool without anything to back up their claim."
"Anyway!"
"The Beggar King Council, elusive as they are, and mysterious, woooo..."
L'Outre made a couple of spooky gestures with his hands as if trying to scare a child, before he continued his appeal:
"Have decided that perhaps the best way to score the Beggar King's power is to prove the popularity of one particularly fat rat, and to utterly annihilate the opposition. As such, the Beggar King's Council is intending to re-open The Gauntlet. Many of you are far too young to even know what the Gauntlet is, but it was basically part of the old Beggar King's private grounds to. Do. Fun things. With you know, the freaks with four arms and saggy eyes and rotting skin and what not. Nasty bunch those. I once knew a guy called Lurch. Lurch was loyal until someone stole his favorite rotten ham. He then poked their eyes out with a chicken bone. Very unpleasant. Unpleasant business. Yes."
"Anyway!"
"The Beggar King's Council will re-open The Gauntlet soon, where greater challenges of wit, strength and mettle await those who would seek the throne of the Beggar King. Now I know there is a bunch of you tribes and gangs who believe that the King's seat should belong to no one. The Council does not care. If the winner decides that the throne should remain empty, then that is how it should be. You've had your minor skirmish for this pub and the false self proclaimed king..."
He paused for a moment before muttering: "who should have his hands cut off and his eyes gouched out for offending the dead king, Imperial Spirit bless his soul".
"Yes I'm a Unionist shock shock horror, how could a true Unionist be standing in the middle of you all heretics and void worshipers. Well. You know, some people like to put their stock of spirituality into an actual faith with providence instead of a cult of insane ramblings and religious that advocate blowing yourself up because your intestines might feed some invisible harvest festival rabbit with murderous urges. Whatever."
"The Council awaits official recognition of the "sides" of this conflict. It needs to know who is going to be combating who. Usque Galenas is obviously going to be a contestant. How about La Ganga? Have they survived waves upon waves of legal suits above ground yet? Maybe some other Shendar crew? It seems nowadays that having a bad skin complexion or disease is a precondition to being a gang member or owner. We are looking for major players. Not shitty fish who barely prattle in the water. We want powerful individuals. Which granted, among the lot of you is difficult since your authority only reaches as far as you can yell."
"We will make an information drop when we expect you to step up. For now. Recruit, Recruit, Recruit my darlings! There is nothing better than fattening your pig with some extra dead weight that you know you're going to shed like a rat on blue tongue scabs."
"Good luck! No honestly I actually hope the lot of you die. It's way too crowded down here nowadays".
And with that, l'Outre whipped out his cane and gently walked out of the Mossy Poss while whistling a merry tune. He eventually departed the complex completely and disappeared in a similar green puff of smoke as he had appeared with, leaving the Sewer dwellers finally able to react.
OOC Info:
"Oh be careful person of low interest, this smoke is quite toxic I'm afraid".
He let out a quick giggle behind that sentence, to add onto the sarcasm as the person on the floor was now breathing their last. When he definitely stopped moving, the stranger poked him with his cane a few times before dainty stepping over him while muttering "Oops". As he passed the now corpse, he swung his cane under his arm to look at the rest of the crowd, some still standing in battle ready pose. The stranger had a somewhat apologetic or confused look on his face before he said:
"What? I did warn him! That was his own fault really."
There was a moment of silence as the stranger's eyes darted from patron to patron, looking for some form of confirmation. Before the bartenders and the local fighters could pick a fight with the stranger however, he opened his mouth again and started prancing around the establishment while he loudly proclaimed his messages:
"My name, is l'Outre. I suppose I should have a different name but it's rather inconsequential. Because you see, I am what the Beggar King's Council calls The Messenger."
He made excessively eccentric airquote gestures when he referred to his title, it was very obvious this l'Outre was a very eccentric individual. Given the recent turmoil around the idea of the Beggar King, the man was given some silence by the crowd, if only for pure curiosity. He thus continued:
"The Beggar King's Council or the Shadow Union or whatever you lot want to call them would like to officially congratulate you on being absolutely and pointlessly - Useless. For a while now since the death of previous Beggar King some ten years back, the Council has been looking for a replacement, but it seems the average intelligence or persistence and tenacity of the sewers dwellers has sank deeper than that of a common swamp frog."
He let out a small giggle again before muttering: "Funny creatures they. Did you know they kill themselves to save their mate if they are endangered, even though swamp frogs are never monogamous?"
He paused for a moment before continuing again:
"I digress. Or regress. Honestly I'd not like to end up like you lot thinking and acting on meaningless things. The point is!! The point. Is. Up there. They are rich. They are affluent. They have manpower and endless resources. The Beggar King was once feared there. Even the Emperor had an ear to listen to what the Beggar King had to say. And look at the lot of you now, squandering over a stinking rat hole like this, barely even feet away from the same shit tunnels that carry the feces from the people above. The surface dwellers, are literally taking a poop on you all!"
He tapped the cane a couple of times on the wooden floor to put emphasis behind his statement before he rattled on:
"The Beggar King Council had set out riddles and tasks for potential successors for months, but all failed to deliver. There was even one chap, I've forgotten his name by the Spirit, who thought he could outsmart the Beggar King Council by saying he shouldn't give away his secrets because that would be bad business or whatever. Needless to say he was struck off the list of potential successors for being a useless tool without anything to back up their claim."
"Anyway!"
"The Beggar King Council, elusive as they are, and mysterious, woooo..."
L'Outre made a couple of spooky gestures with his hands as if trying to scare a child, before he continued his appeal:
"Have decided that perhaps the best way to score the Beggar King's power is to prove the popularity of one particularly fat rat, and to utterly annihilate the opposition. As such, the Beggar King's Council is intending to re-open The Gauntlet. Many of you are far too young to even know what the Gauntlet is, but it was basically part of the old Beggar King's private grounds to. Do. Fun things. With you know, the freaks with four arms and saggy eyes and rotting skin and what not. Nasty bunch those. I once knew a guy called Lurch. Lurch was loyal until someone stole his favorite rotten ham. He then poked their eyes out with a chicken bone. Very unpleasant. Unpleasant business. Yes."
"Anyway!"
"The Beggar King's Council will re-open The Gauntlet soon, where greater challenges of wit, strength and mettle await those who would seek the throne of the Beggar King. Now I know there is a bunch of you tribes and gangs who believe that the King's seat should belong to no one. The Council does not care. If the winner decides that the throne should remain empty, then that is how it should be. You've had your minor skirmish for this pub and the false self proclaimed king..."
He paused for a moment before muttering: "who should have his hands cut off and his eyes gouched out for offending the dead king, Imperial Spirit bless his soul".
"Yes I'm a Unionist shock shock horror, how could a true Unionist be standing in the middle of you all heretics and void worshipers. Well. You know, some people like to put their stock of spirituality into an actual faith with providence instead of a cult of insane ramblings and religious that advocate blowing yourself up because your intestines might feed some invisible harvest festival rabbit with murderous urges. Whatever."
"The Council awaits official recognition of the "sides" of this conflict. It needs to know who is going to be combating who. Usque Galenas is obviously going to be a contestant. How about La Ganga? Have they survived waves upon waves of legal suits above ground yet? Maybe some other Shendar crew? It seems nowadays that having a bad skin complexion or disease is a precondition to being a gang member or owner. We are looking for major players. Not shitty fish who barely prattle in the water. We want powerful individuals. Which granted, among the lot of you is difficult since your authority only reaches as far as you can yell."
"We will make an information drop when we expect you to step up. For now. Recruit, Recruit, Recruit my darlings! There is nothing better than fattening your pig with some extra dead weight that you know you're going to shed like a rat on blue tongue scabs."
"Good luck! No honestly I actually hope the lot of you die. It's way too crowded down here nowadays".
And with that, l'Outre whipped out his cane and gently walked out of the Mossy Poss while whistling a merry tune. He eventually departed the complex completely and disappeared in a similar green puff of smoke as he had appeared with, leaving the Sewer dwellers finally able to react.
OOC Info:
- Pre-stage planning for future sewer events.
- We are looking for major "sides", that can be either gangs or alliances of gangs declaring a specific person or idea to be the replacement of the previous Beggar King.
- We want "actual" gangs. Not people who are only active on the forum or have gangs that consist of themselves, their friend and their grandmother's Alsatian dog. We want gangs or alliances that have made an impact one way or another on sewer roleplay over the last few months.
- More information on how to proceed with this all will follow soon. Don't worry, you will recognize it.
- Feel free to "Rp react" on this thread to the events above. I'm going to assume nobody triple back flipped and 360 roundhouse kicked l'Outre to death instantly without missing for the sake of storytelling.
