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Canon: © Anne Bishop
Board's Plot: Blood Rites
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Established February 2010
by Jamie, Gina & Bowie.


* Plot Information for Rihland

A Black Jewel has obliterated the longstanding Eyrien rulership of the Territory. As the Rihlanders begin to reclaim their homeland they do so under the stern gaze of their "savior". Three separate peoples struggle to both claim their own identities and become a unified nation, but old hatreds are difficult to shed.
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Author Topic: use all your time to paint yourself the victim  (Read 54 times)

Description: (undisclosed location) (a gambling den)

Offline Johannes Gudbrandson

  • Character Account
    • pd2sapphire
    • prince
    • Role

      Leader of the Exchange

    • Territory

      Rihland

    • Character Sheet

      [Link]

    • OOC

      Rated Em

    • Posts

      28

    • sapphire hidden

    • View Profile
use all your time to paint yourself the victim
« on: Nov 07, 19, 09:48:28 AM »
Oh, the Boss had sent more than just one warning. He had sent many, in all shapes, sizes, and forms. When it was clear that the lovely little den of iniquity would not make the appropriate changes other plans were made.

If one would not submit, if they could not be brought to heel, then they would be removed from the board as a piece. One was either a piece that was manipulated by the Exchange--especially when they cut into its profits--or they were nothing at all.

The air around the establishment was surprisingly clean and that, in and of itself, was a rather particular tell. There was a Warlord who looked to be asleep, slumped against the wall as his breath wheezed in a fashion that spoke of heavy drink. It was all a cover, of course, and those that knew what he signified were able to drop the proper token into his hat and find that the wall next to him gave way for them.

They were able to walk from the non-descript outside air into the alive and bustling interior. A witch winded through those gathered, drinks carefully balanced on a tray (with a touch of Craft to make sure nothing spilled) to be delivered to a group waiting as they played the next hand of their game.

Outside no one would know that there was gambling, drinking, and otherwise going on within. It was just another nondescript building in the city that looked that it was in desperate need of repair or being taken down so that something new could take its place.

The bouncer--the seemingly half-asleep Warlord--shifted to get more comfortable. It wasn't even that late and he was already getting that familiar twist in his neck that said he needed to shift. With a quiet grumble, he turned and curled around the hat. Someone dropped another token and a flicker of craft ensured they were able to cross the threshold and head inside.