RPG: Dispatch

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RPG: Dispatch

Post by Sarent on Sun 20 Jan 2013, 9:16 pm

by Sarent, 02.01.2012 14:53


It's 1810, and horizons are expanding.

Almost nine years ago, the rising-star politician Salvon "Saurian" Adams spelled out and won the rights for United States citizens to strike out and explore the territories beyond the Mississippian River to the west. The hardiest would-be ranchers and fortune seekers gambled everything on the very real possibility that riches, land, and mystery lay somewhere out there, and brought all their possessions and families with them to claim the unclaimed. The call of the frontier was also strong to those certain
entrepreneurs and ne'er-do-wells who saw opportunity around every corner. But apparently something had to give.


Deep in what will much later be known as the Intermountain West, people began to be turned back by a mysterious man who alleged that he already had a stake in the land. News spread, even eventually up to the leaders of the United States, France, and Spania - and though the man certainly wasn't a native either, no one knew who he could be, and he certainly had no legal right to the land.

The next pioneers who tried to get through the area without heeding the strange man were never heard from again.

They disappeared only months ago. Now the US, Spania, and France are sending out their best and their brightest to eliminate the man and the intangible threat he might represent to their fragile alliances... before he can eliminate anyone else.
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Re: RPG: Dispatch

Post by Sarent on Sun 20 Jan 2013, 9:17 pm

Sarent, 29.02.2012 16:27:


Saurian Adams was pleased.

He set the final letter back on his desk, facedown, before rising and pivoting to face the window behind his chair. It was France's final courteous confirmation that yes, they would indeed be sending their own hunter (or perhaps hunters? the writing in the letter was not excellent) to join the joint American-Spanian party.

It was not so much the added help or his ability to negotiate smoothly with the French that was pleasing.
Rather, he just wanted to get started on the mission.


Adams knew rather more about the situation developing in the west than other politicians. There was, of course, a good reason to be sending out the very best hunters on this mission.

After all, it might endanger the world if they didn't succeed. Maybe, that was.

Or Maybe Not.

Adams wiped the smirk off his face, only grinning internally at the old joke, and turned back to the interior of the room. It was time to begin, it seemed.




Stargazer, 08.03.2012 15:53:


The first timid glow of dawn rose golden in the still inky, star speckled sky. Dorcas observed this in her usual quiet way, smiling when she saw a star streak across the dome of the sky. So beautiful, so expansive. Like everything here, the blue sky that dipped to meet the never-ending ocean of whispering grasses to the west, the green blur of trees clustered around the banks of the river to the east. Even the animals were larger than normal, she noted, as she heaved her bundle of pelts into the wagon. Lightly, she jumped up to the seat, jangled the reins, and said, 'Hii, Patty.' Patty, the stocky brown horse, complied immediately, and the wagon jolted toward the rays of the rising sun, toward town.

The path from Dorcas' home-place to town was, admittedly, not well traveled. She had a hearty dislike for most people, and only went into town about four times a year, to trade the pelts of animals she trapped for supplies. Many women wouldn't know what to do, trading like Dorcas had to. Invariably, they would be cheated. Dorcas was never cheated. A trader had cheated her once, but he had had to move back to Boston a few days afterward. The story was still told in small cabins and freezing tents over the greater part of the frontier. The storyteller always had trouble keeping a straight face, especially when the listeners were laughing so hard at the fate of the cheating trader.

The soothing motion of the wagon soon lulled Dorcas to sleep. She would never admit it, but she often fell asleep on the way to town. It seemed a weakness to her, somehow.

Later, the wagon jolted downward, waking her with a start. Both sky and scenery had changed drastically while she had napped. The sky was now almost completely blue, with a small tinge of orange here and there. The sun had risen over the horizon. The landscape now rose up around them in the form of trees. Short, gnarled trees with sage-colored needles formed a thin forest stretching on both sides of the River's banks. It seemed they had just bumped onto the well-worn rut-road that ran parallel to the edge of the forest. Dorcas guided Patty carefully onto the road, so as not to damage the wagon, then sprang out of the wagon. Time to make herself 'presentable'. She went on one side of the wagon to screen herself from anyone coming down the road, then shucked off her well worn leather jacket, with its beautiful Shoshone beading, and threw it up onto the piles of pelts. Then she reached up onto the wagon seat and grabbed a small bundle of worn fabric. As she pulled it over her head, she grumbled inwardly at the charade of going to town. She hated wearing dresses, especially this particular dress, but she had to do it if she didn't want to be run out of town on a rail by the traders' wives. Much to their dismay, however, she always wore her fringed leather leggings beneath her unfashionable sack of a dress. Shaking her head, she glanced over the dress to make sure it was presentable. A couple of holes here, a stain there. The traders' wives wouldn't care too much for that. Maybe, she reflected, it was time to trade for a new dress.

Or Maybe Not.

Smiling inwardly at the old joke, she hopped back onto the seat, much less gracefully than she did in just her leggings, and continued her journey to town.

[Sorry this is so long. I just felt like writing a long post, it seems. XP]


[Also...wow, do I ALWAYS start everything I write with a full description of the sky? [/rhetoricalquestion] O~O]




Sarent, 12.04.2012 12:23:


IC:


It was just before the dry, frosty dawn of a typical early-spring morning in the F.D.A. The final members of the party had straggled together on the crunchy medium-green grass into the loose assemblage of bounty hunters that they, in fact, were.

Saurian Adams, irritatedly astride his lean nameless horse, gestured the others forward with his head. But as the others began to clamber onto horses or into the one wagon with a partial engine, he started first and easily took the lead anyway.

Admittedly, the politician was often best able to keep a handle on events (and play a part in decisions) here in the capital. But of course he should have known better than to start out from so far east when his destination was so far west - at least when he had a platoon of hunters to deal with. Most of the party could take care of themselves in the wilderness individually. If they couldn't, it would now become his problem.

With a twist to his mouth, he leaned forwards against the oddly cool neck of his horse. In lighter news... people named their horses, didn't they? Perhaps he should name his.

A stroke of disillusionment hit him in a second. "Indigo" would do nicely, thought Adams with irony. Indigo was a serviceable name for a horse that would not fail him.

Now, to attend to the business of heading for the frontier in a timely manner.


(OOC: F.D.A. stands for the Federal District of America, the analogue of Washington, DC. It has nothing to do with food or drug administrations.

Apologies for the short post, but I mainly had to get Adams' party going before anything could start to happen. Unless of course someone were to join as a
hunter...)






Stargazer, 17.06.2012 19:46:


James mounted his horse, quickly glanced around at the assemblage of hunters, and moved his horse forward to take his place beside Mr. Adams. As perhaps the most knowledgeable person in the party about the terrain they'd be crossing, he felt it was his place, and most people should excuse him from such presumption.

On an unspoken signal, the party began making its first movements into the unknown. James surveyed the scenery, taking in the thick foliage, the tall trees, the stirrings of small animals frightened by the racket the...er, more greenhorn members of the party were making. Well, they could be excused for that. He doubted many of them had ever been 'in the wild' before. 'Sides, it was a long way to travel. They'd be sure to pick up how to travel a bit more quietly, with a bit less chatter and a bit more watching for danger, somewhere along the trail.

Considering the trail...it would be good to know how far they were going today, he reflected. Just to get an idea of when to stop, how often to give the horses a break. Turning to Saurian, he asked, "So, how far are we planning on going to-day, sir?"

[OOC: Apologies for not posting recently. Stuff has been going on... >~<]
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Re: RPG: Dispatch

Post by Sarent on Thu 07 Feb 2013, 10:19 pm

OOC: Might need to edit this later, I just felt the need to get a reply out of Adams...



IC:

Saurian Adams grimaced, his unsunwards gaze not moving from the way ahead. "What is planned may be of no consequence given our company. Would that France and Spania had prepared more appropriately! We shall go as far as we can, and I hope that that is more than I think. Ours is not to have a short journey, in any instance."
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Re: RPG: Dispatch

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