vinush

Ooooh, shiny! I like it.

Announce the winner already! I want to start working on the next entry!!! Vinush.

Yeah, the cheated card replaces the flipped card.

Some good entries here from all. It would be nice to read some stories with different characters from Darkblack and Hoffman as the purpose is to write short stories and while episodic entries are a way to develop a larger story I think the real challenge of a short story is getting people to know the characters involved in such a short space of time. Just my opinion though, feel free to ignore if you wish. Vinush

Anyone seen Edonil? When's the vote going up?

Here's my entry. http://wyrd-games.net/community/topic/102469-iron-quill-loss-the-hunters/ Vinush

The darkened streets were strewn with discarded wrappers, the litter from the carnival goers danced lazily in the meagre breeze. It was hot and humid, causing most folks to sleep with their windows open while the curtains wafted gently, caressing sleeping faces like ghostly fingers reaching for their lost loves. High upon the rooftops two sets of eyes glistened in the silvery moonlight as they surveyed the tableaux lain before them. A sudden movement at the edge of the street caused the first set of eyes to snap in sharp focus, piercing the ethereal twilight to discern its source while the eyes of his companion remained on the hushed street below. “Settle down. You are far too jumpy.” “I saw somefink.” He said, turning back to the street. His companion grimaced. “I do wish you would speak properly.” She let out a deep sigh. “What do they teach you these days?” “Sorry.” “And stop apologising.” “Sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “What we lookin’ for anyways?” “That is none of your concern. You are simply to follow my lead.” He shifted restlessly, disturbing the sleeping birds wrapped in their nest nearby and eliciting another sigh from his companion. “Sit down!” She hissed. “You will give us away.” He returned to impatiently watching the street for whatever it was they were waiting to see. After what seemed like hours she moved, startling him from his boredom as she launched herself down to the street to land gracefully and silent, something he had yet to master. He followed with a quiet thump, almost twisting his ankle as he grimaced with pain. She always made it look so easy. She straightened up and tugged the edge of her black tailcoat down to smooth out any wrinkles then nudged her top hat back to its upright position atop her head. He stood up and tried his best to smooth out his own coat and hat to match hers before stepping forward to stand by her side and confront their target. “Were you planning on going somewhere, Sergeant?” She asked in her precise way. “I… I… I was just taking a breath of air.” The sergeant stammered. “Jus’ hit ‘im!” He said, eliciting another sigh. “We can drag ‘im back and ‘ave done wif it.” “That is hardly polite, is it?” She asked, smiling at the sergeant. He returned a weak smile as he swallowed nervously. “Mr Lyall is unhappy with you.” Her voice was like ice, sending a shiver down his spine. “He tells me that you double crossed us. He tells me that you plan on leaving without returning his money.” The sergeant paled. “N… no, not at all. I was-“ She cut him off mid-sentence. “I told Mr Lyall he must be mistaken.” She smiled, showing off her sharpened white teeth. “You are not that stupid that you would do that to Mr Lyall.” “If ‘e’s not stupid enuff to do that, then what we ‘ere for?” “And therein lies my predicament doesn’t it, my dear sergeant. My… associate” she said the word like it was a bitter poison, “here is just itching to show me what he can do. And I am just waiting for an opportunity to let him show me.” Just like that her wicked smile returned. The sergeant didn’t waste a second as he turned and ran. It was hardly going to be a challenge, he was too old and too out of shape, but never the less he ran. After a short pause she nodded to her partner, giving him permission to begin the pursuit. As he set off at a loping run, whooping like a hyena, she called after him. “Try to keep his head in tact for Mr Lyall.” ------------------------------------------------ Words:623 Location: carnival Item: Top hat

Is the partner Carl, Karl or Mal? You use all 3 for him.

"Well met good fellows." "Quit bein' so dramatic." "Let him have his fun. What's the harm in him speaking in such a flowery way?" "I thank thee, kind sir." "Fine, but it'll be on your head when I finally snap and kill 'im." "You are such an idiot." "No I ain't." "He speaks the truth. I feel there may be a village nearby missing their idiot." "Wha?" "See, this is exactly my point. You can't even take a joke." "I could if'n it was funny." "I shall attempt to keep my whit in check for the benefit of your simpleton friend." "Thank you, it is much appreciated." "What you gotta use such big words for? You know it confuses me!" "I feel that a room with but one door would confuse you." "That's it. I've had enough of 'im. I'm gonna smack 'im right in the face!" "Just go outside down and calm down. I'll deal with this on my own, as usual." "Now that we are alone good fellow, how may i be of assistance?" "I have someone I need you to deal with for me. He owes us money and isn't exactly forthcoming with it. I thought that someone with your particular talents could get it for me." "Leave the details with my assistant and I shall have your money within the week. Good day."

I'm in.

Thanks guys.

Wow, I won! I'm totally shocked... Vinush

Both tots and young nephilim are in the FM guide.

Hi guys, Just a couple of questions for those who have ran/played in the game. 1. Wounds are equal to 4 plus the toughness skill. Is that the Rank in the skill, or the AV of the skill? For example, a character has 3 ranks in toughness, but an AV of 5. Do they have 7 or 9 wounds? 2. Has anyone converted from Malifaux into TtB? For example, has anyone transferred ice gamin into the game? How did you do it? What did you do for initiative, etc? Thanks in advance guys

Voted here, PM'd my weighted votes and I want to add my voice to the idea of the Judge's challenge. Who is the Judge who sets the challenge though? Is it the winner of the iron quill, or will there be a JC winner who sets the next one? Vinush

Mine is now no longer a work in progress, it's finalised.

Are you penalised for going under the word count? I think anything else I add in to my story wouldn't really help move it along any... Vinush

A bit better... How about something along the lines of: "Fascinating!" The look of glee on his face was a total contrast to the scene before them. He looked triumphant as he managed to squash one of the irksome moths fluttering around the room. Studying the splattered remains on his hand he absent-mindedly asked the corpse "how long have you been here?" I still think that the music box thing could be wagging his finger to a totally different tune. Vinush

How about rather than wagging his finger tot he music in order for it to get to the end, he's doing it to some imaginary tune in his head totally different to what is playing? Describe him as having a lob-sided grin, mock the guardsman instead of getting up in his business. Have him mutter a little ditty about the woman they're after. Just a couple of suggestions. Vinush

Updated my story to v1.2 Vinush

He's ok, a little bit too focused and sane for my tastes. Perhaps have a bit of pride or glee over what has been done to the girl by someone shadowing his work. He loves being able to give orders to the guild, so have him grin when he's bossing the guard around. Also, only just noticed you've not closed his speech off on the last paragraph. You need to put a second quotation mark when he finishes his sentence.

Good effort my man. Just a couple of little points. Third section, you used think instead of thought. Fourth section in the description of the moth when talking about wingspan you say "as large as twice as large as her malformed hands" I think you need to remove as large as at the start of what I have copied. Vinush

Here's my WIP of my entry. http://wyrd-games.net/community/topic/101698-iron-quill-metamorphosis-lucille/

Quentin stood on the steps, idly fumbling with his pocket watch and running his fingers around the collar of his shirt. It was odd, the shirt didn’t quite fit like it used to, but since his arrival in Malifaux two weeks ago he never seemed to have any money left over to buy new clothes. Things hadn’t gone too well for him lately, not since he’d met her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Not that he could actually remember the details of what she looked like, just that she was the most intoxicating person around. He couldn’t really recall much about that night at the Star Theatre in general, but her song, that music; it haunted his every waking moment and helped him drift off to sleep at night when he closed his eyes. Watching the people go about their business on the streets, Quentin couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. Their lives were so empty without her, without her music. His life was so full, between his work and going to the Star every night he barely had time to see his friends or even write home. He resisted the urge to check the time once again, just in case she were to arrive and see him, after all, patience is a virtue according to his old grandmother. “Why, Mr Quentin, I dare say you get handsomer each and every time I see you.” Her soft southern voice called from behind him. Quentin’s heart fluttered as he spun to see her. She was radiantly beautiful! Her face filled his sight, her delicate cheekbones, her cherry red lips parted ever so slightly, inviting him to reach out and grab her so he could press his lips to hers and kiss her passionately. He wasn’t normally like this, he was so refined, so gentlemanly, but there was something powerful about her that called out to his primal instincts. And then there was the song… He could hear it louder in his head when she was close to him, it reverberated through every fibre of his body as her heady perfume filled his nostrils and his blood pounded through his veins with desire and urgency. He realised he’d been staring far longer than was proper so he forced his gaze away before replying. “I thank you Miss Lucille. You’re looking mighty pretty today.” He realised how foolish he sounded, how immature, but he didn’t care, not now that he was with her. She held out an arm for him to take. “Shall we?” She indicated the pavement leading away from the steps. He led her from the main street out of the crowds of people, with her humming the tune softly as they went, keeping it fresh in his mind and allowing it to wash over him as her perfume wafted around them. Somehow they arrived outside of the Star Theatre with its grand columned frontage and illuminated marquee advertising the acts due on stage. The ticket office was already open and doing a brisk trade for the evenings show, no doubt another sell out. Lucille nodded to the imposing doorman as they passed through the entrance and into the chaotic whirlwind that was the Star during the day. People rushed to and fro making preparations for the evening’s opening, stocking the bar and cleaning the tables while dancers and performers rehearsed on stage in their brightly coloured showgirl costumes all feathered and sequined. Doves cooed off stage in their cages, resting before their flights at the end of the show while magicians whirled and twirled their wands and staves. Colourful handkerchiefs were being folded precisely for later prestidigitations while musicians tuned their instruments. The place was a riot of colour and sound, all of which assaulted the senses and confounded Quentin, serving to keep his mind occupied while Lucille whispered and conspired with her co-workers. The activity swirled around Quentin and before he knew it he was feeling lightheaded and sat at a table as another drink was pressed into his hands and Lucille muttered non-distinct words at him, urging him to have just one more sip. Quentin watched the bubbles in his drink lazily zig-zag to the top of the glass as his head swam and the lights lowered to blackness all the while the music played inside his head… ---- As he returned to consciousness the world formed into fuzzy shapes and indistinct voices. His throat felt like it was raw and on fire, his mouth was incredibly dry but something was stopping him from licking his lips, some dry cloth balled into his mouth to silence him. A woman’s voice cut through his panic. “Restrain him.” Was that Lucille? Before he could move or attempt any struggle to escape he felt the pressure of large, rough hands seizing his wrists and ankles, pressing them against the smooth, cold metal beneath him. Panic started to rise, crashing over him like waves at the beach and he began to try and fight his captors. Their grip was too tight and he was too weak to escape. Then he heard the song and the serene calmness that came with it and he relaxed, the fight escaping him like air from a deflating balloon. He knew, deep down, that he should try to fight it, to stop whatever bad thing was about to happen to him and yet he couldn’t shake off the song’s effects. The last thing he remembered, the last thing Quentin would ever see, was Lucille looming over him, singing that song, with a wickedly sharp scalpel and a delicate smile on her face. Then there was a sharp, stinging, burning sensation in the middle of his chest as the tears spilled from the corners of his eyes and the blood pooled around the blade. Still singing, Lucille set to work at disembowelling Quentin’s still warm corpse, readying it for the cache of soul stones to be smuggled back Earthside. ---- Lucille stood behind the curtain as the music began to swell. The curtains slowly rose as the lights were directed to her, glistening off the ruby sequins of her bodice. As the music rose to a crescendo she started to sing, her voice crystal clear and filling the theatre. She moved slowly, seductively, rolling her hips with each step to enhance the natural curve and grace of her figure, making sure that every eye in the audience was on her. She looked around as she walked, her hypnotic song taking its hold as she searched for the right person, just the right balance between young and naïve, malleable to her needs and new to the city, not too many friends but enough that he will feel encouraged to engage with her. Lucille was just about to give up and return to the stage when she saw him, so similar to Quentin. It was a real shame that she’d had to do what she had, but business was business after all. She locked eyes with him, letting the song and her unique abilities to make that connection she needed. She felt his will melt away and she knew he was hers. An imperceptible nod to the barman made sure his next drink was laced with something; just enough to get him hooked and keep him coming back… ---- Oliver stood on the steps, idly fumbling with his pocket watch and running his fingers around the collar of his shirt. It was odd, the shirt didn’t quite fit like it used to, but since his arrival in Malifaux two weeks ago he never seemed to have any money left over to buy new clothes. Things hadn’t gone too well for him lately, not since he’d met her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Not that he could actually remember the details of what she looked like, just that she was the most intoxicating person around. He couldn’t really recall much about that night at the Star Theatre in general, but her song, that music; it haunted his every waking moment and helped him drift off to sleep at night when he closed his eyes… Words: 1364 Themes used: Person – Courtesan, Item – Music Box (Well, there’s music and he becomes a kind of box…)

Count me in. Vinush