A Disgruntled Mercenary in King Anthor's Court

[Etherdrifter]

As for "Turning against you at the drop of a hat." It is a point of pride that if I get paid for a job I finish that job. If I'm working for you, I wont turn against you because a better deal is offered. Naturally, the best way to ensure that I don't fight you is to keep me employed, not actively fight me.

*Grins*

I was indicating that you never know if a merc has a contract on you or not.

Just out of interest, does the Necromancers Guild have any money? I wish to know for purely hypothetical reasons.

We don't usually keep gold, we trade in good such as fungi juice and tasty berry wines.

Hah! And so the mouldering old corpse-buggerer finally blows the cobwebs from his tongue. I owe the Puppy a few coins, I thought you'd have your bony fingers in this pie a long bloody time ago.

So let me get this straight, Bones. Because me and you've had words in the past - which you bloody started, since my Guild never had any bloody issue with yours up until that point - and because the Mad King of Wiksik has made a bad habit of sticking his nose into my Guild's business - again, despite the bloody fact that none of mine was bloody any of his - I can't come and teach him a bloody lesson or three? I don't bloody think so.

Here's the deal, Bones. You wind your bony neck in, and I won't snap it. I'm happy to leave your coffin-dodgers alone, to play dress-up and fondle goats' entrails in that gloomy little pile of stones you call home, if you'll do me the same bloody courtesy.

~SP

Ah Phil, times are changing...  We are necromancers, not shaman, nor necrophiliacs as you so ignorantly imply...

Your threats, so commonly phrased as usual, have no real meaning.  For what harm is a broken neck to one who is already dead Phil?  For we all know that as my neck snaps, my magic will find your soul and tear it asunder.  Only one of us will die, for one of us was dead to start with.

I have no qualm with those that mean no harm, however I will no longer accept murder for hire against our guild members or allies.  Lure the KOW elsewhere if you would murder them, it will no longer happen in and around Wiksik.

Yet...  The tombs of necropolis are filled with the slain, many have been interred by the hand of your guild.  Let it not be said I am ungrateful, even to the insolent.  Mercenaries will be offered protection in Wiksik provided they state their peaceful intentions at the spirit hut to both myself and our chief death knight Jahnam.

My terms stand, accept them.  Or join my ranks.

[Anthor]

...I can't come and teach him a bloody lesson or three? I don't bloody think so...

Seeing as your attack on the KOW and Wiksik has been as much use as a bloody cacao boiling pot, I'd have to say you need to try a lot harder. 

[Bobby the Hatchet]

I didn't bring no trouble to the Wiksik regulars that didn't have it comin'. Fightin' Knights, however, has been a bit like findin' a needle in a haystack, and I never was much of a seamstress. Maybe we just burn the haystack to the ground and see how many rats we can run out of it, use them for target practice and such.

Raffles, when you gonna come in for the big money and stop offerin' to shine shoes for grape mash?

[Iceman]

I'll get to you, kingling. Bones, I took the liberty of predicting your typical faux-mystical retort, and decided to take premeditative action. Let it be known, the New Age Mercenary's Guild goes where it bloody likes, when it bloody likes, and we don't tolerate ny bloody lip while we're at it.

(2011-03-21 22:17) Sympathetic Phil pushes open the age-darkened wooden door of the Spirit Hut. The hinges squeal ominously, and he rolls his eyes at the melodrama even as he steps into the dark interior.
(2011-03-21 22:17) Sympathetic Phil blinks a few times as his eyes accustom themselves to the gloom. He squints at flickering candles sat in gothic candelabra, twisted, misshapen lumps of wax pooled around their base.
(2011-03-21 22:17) Sympathetic Phil turns his regard to the ancient, dust-encrusted bookshelves. Cobwebs drape the musty-looking tomes, obscuring the elaborately gilded titles, their sheen faded and worn by the years.
(2011-03-21 22:17) Sympathetic Phil runs a wry gaze across a wealth of mystical paraphernalia. Human skulls share shelves with cloth-shrouded orbs, and skeletons of fantastical fanged and horned creatures.
(2011-03-21 22:17) Sympathetic Phil spits on the floor. “Bloody hell, spare me. We get it, you’re bloody Necromancers. Dark sorcerers, meddling in matters of which man was not meant to bloody ken...”
(2011-03-21 22:18) Sympathetic Phil stifles a yawn.
(2011-03-21 22:18) Sympathetic Phil looks at Etherdrifter. “Now then Bones. Considering your facial muscles rotted away centuries ago, you’ve been doing a fair bloody job of clacking that toothy jaw of yours...”
(2011-03-21 22:18) You say “I’ve been bloody polite about it, I’m sure you’ll agree, but I can’t be having terms dictated to me and my pals by a bunch of corpse-molesting spirit-botherers.” in the native language.
(2011-03-21 22:18) You say “The Mad King’s reaping a bloody whirlwind of his own making, and you were advised several bloody times to let us get on with our business…” in the native language.
(2011-03-21 22:18) Sympathetic Phil scratches his chin. “...although, let’s not confuse matters here. This isn’t mercenary business. This is personal business. A man can only bloody take so many insults, eh?”
(2011-03-21 22:18) You say “So like I say. Your interfering little ‘king’ is merely experiencing the consequences of his own misplaced bloody righteousness. You, my skeletal friend, have made the very poor choice...” in the native language.
(2011-03-21 22:19) You say “...of getting involved, on the wrong bloody side.” He chuckles patronisingly. “Hubris, eh? It’s a bloody mare.”” in the native language.
(2011-03-21 22:19) Sympathetic Phil swings his rifle off his shoulder, cocking it in a smooth motion. He raises it to sight down the barrel straight at Etherdrifter’s undead brow.
(2011-03-21 22:19) You say “Pride comes before a bloody fall, Bones. You and yours have troubled me and mine one bloody time too many.” in the native language.
(2011-03-21 22:19) You fire at Etherdrifter with a rifle for 5 damage. They die.
(2011-03-21 22:19) Sympathetic Phil pulls the trigger. Etherdrifter’s head flings backwards, imploding under the impact of the bullet. As the corpse begins to fall, it powders away to dust, swirling on an ethereal breeze.
(2011-03-21 22:20) Sympathetic Phil grins in savage satisfaction, and casts his glare around the shadowy room. “Who’s next, you cadaver-buggering bastards?”
(2011-03-21 22:20) You fire at Jahnam Nehkan with a rifle for 5 damage. They die.
(2011-03-21 22:20) You fire at Mortis with a rifle for 5 damage. They die.
(2011-03-21 22:22) Sympathetic Phil tosses his rifle to one side as it clicks empty. With barely a pause, a pistol comes spinning from the holster at his waist.
(2011-03-21 22:22) You fire at Al contrario with a pistol for 4 damage. They die.
(2011-03-21 22:24) Sympathetic Phil narrows his eyes as the remaining Necromancers scatter, even their close aquaintance with death leaving them unprepared for its sudden presence amongst them. He takes aim at a fleeing figure.
(2011-03-21 22:24) You fire at Mestigoit with a pistol for 4 damage. They die.
(2011-03-21 22:26) Sympathetic Phil snorts as the robed Necromancer crumples bonelessly to the grimy floor. Tucking the smoking pistol back in his belt, he unsheathes the massive sword he carries across his back.
(2011-03-21 22:26) Sympathetic Phil smiles menacingly as he advances on the sole remaining Necromancer. The barbaric-looking Death Knight roars angrily, and throws himself at the bored-looking mercenary.
(2011-03-21 22:27) You attack Dunjk with a heavy sword for 5 damage. They die.
(2011-03-21 22:29) Sympathetic Phil kicks the impaled body off the huge blade with a dismissive grunt. He looks around the dim hut, at the blood splattering the walls and the occasional pile of grimy dust.
(2011-03-21 22:30) Sympathetic Phil cocks his head. A feeble keening can be heard on the wind, and he rubs absently at the gooseflesh on his bare forearms. He places his bloody sword carefully on a table, and unslings his pack.

(2011-03-21 22:31) The spectral figure of Etherdrifter chuckles
(2011-03-21 22:31) The ghostly voice of Etherdrifter says “Is that it mercenary?” with a slight accent.
(2011-03-21 22:31) The ghostly voice of Etherdrifter says “Is that really the best you can do?” with a slight accent.
(2011-03-21 22:31) The spectral figure of Etherdrifter rises up and chuckles
(2011-03-21 22:31) The spectral figure of Etherdrifter points at his head
(2011-03-21 22:31) The ghostly voice of Etherdrifter says “Go on, try again mortal.” with a slight accent.
(2011-03-21 22:31) Sympathetic Phil pulls out a crudely-carved pumpkin, and casts a smirking eye at the empty air. "Don't think you ghost bastards'll be missing out on the fun, either..."
(2011-03-21 22:32) You swing the ghastly jack o'lantern around.
(2011-03-21 22:32) The jack o'lantern succeeds in warding off 6 spirits. As they flee, the spirits succeed in making you drop the jack o'lantern, breaking it into several pieces.
(2011-03-21 22:32) The ghostly voice of Etherdrifter says “I'm still waiting...” with a slight accent.
(2011-03-21 22:32) The ghostly voice of Etherdrifter says “You're up against a real necromancer here, not some village bumpkins.” with a slight accent.
(2011-03-21 22:33) Sympathetic Phil shrugs as the lantern smashes on the dirty mud floor. He cants his head, listening, and chuckles when he senses no ethereal presences.
(2011-03-21 22:33) The spectral figure of Etherdrifter grins and points at Phil's chest
(2011-03-21 22:33) Sympathetic Phil starts acting very strangely.
(2011-03-21 22:33) You feel an unknown force take control of your body. Sympathetic Phil falls to his knees and screams
(2011-03-21 22:33) The ghostly voice of Etherdrifter says “Now get out, before I forget that I am supposed to be merciful...” with a slight accent.
(2011-03-21 22:33) You swing the jolly jack o'lantern around.
(2011-03-21 22:33) The jack o'lantern succeeds in warding off 1 spirits.
(2011-03-21 22:34) Sympathetic Phil climbs to his knees. He blows a kiss to the again-empty air. "Let that be a lesson to you and your dress-wearing buddies. The mercenaries go where we like, when we bloody like. Be bloody told."
(2011-03-21 22:34) The spectral figure of Etherdrifter tilts his head
(2011-03-21 22:34) The ghostly voice of Etherdrifter says “Are you trying to do something with that lantern of yours?” with a slight accent.
(2011-03-21 22:35) Sympathetic Phil picks up his sword and rifle and ducks out of the Spirit Hut.

Now, I know, I bloody know, you feed off death, you can't kill that which is already bloody dead, and so-on and so-bloody-forth. That won't stop me tearing through your pokey little hut like a bloody hot knife through boar-fat any time you decide to run your bloody mouth, Bones.

~SP

[Etherdrifter]

And now I can withdraw my offer of sanctuary without any issues whatsoever.  Guild politics is satisfied.

[Johnny Hobo]

That's what you call a massacre.

[Bobby the Hatchet]

If that's what you call sanctuary, I'll take my chances with a broken neck.

- The Prisoner

[Iceman]

'Issues'? Bloody please. No-one who doesn't wear a bloody dress cares about your bloody politics, Bones. You can twist the matter any way you bloody like, but your posturing's as bloody wormy and rotten as you and your pals' bullet-riddled corpses.

Be bloody quiet now, the big boys are talking shop.

~SP

[Raffles]

Alas, I am hypothetically not interested in drinks, only lovely glimmering gold.

Raffles, when you gonna come in for the big money

Never, I suspect. Because I'd demand 200 gc a mission and you would neither be willing or able to pay that price.

[Bobby the Hatchet]

The old salt's a tough act to follow.

You fire at ORakoon with a rifle for 5 damage. They die. You gain 38 XP.
Underworld log successful .
The Prisoner leans half-assedly against the doorframe and lights up a smoke. ", son, you got off easy tonight."

Raffles, more money for us. You know where to find us when you're done gnawin' on our scraps.

[Raffles]

How much are you getting paid to attack Anthor & Chums?

[Bobby the Hatchet]

How much are you getting paid to attack Anthor & Chums?

I'll get back to you after a word with my associates.

[KingBiscuit]

Grayson Hunt attacks you with a heavy sword for 5 damage. You die.
Grayson Hunt says “Well now amigo, you can only blame your king for pissong off the wrong sons-a-bitches.” with a slight accent.


Dear Mercenaries,

Who is this honky and what does his pencil-neckery have to do with me? This noodle-armed paleface doesn't wear the NAMG badge, but if he's acting on your behalf, don't have him go around harshing my (and the right-thinking people of Wiksik's) buzz or I'll put him in a headlock so tight, his eyes will squeeze out all over the ground and people will step them and they'll get all gritty and he'll keep crying which will disturb the kids so I'll have to stuff him in a locker, and that is a PROMISE.

If he's not, I'll give ya'll ten gold (or similar weight in smoothies) to kill him and so on.

Eternally Pumped,

Flex Mentallo
Hero of the Beach

[Etherdrifter]

*Grins*

Come and make me little mercenary, next time I'll stop your heart.

[Mortis]

Oh good. Now I can cut loose. Searching for that Ghostship has been boring. Time I raise some of you mercs to serve me.