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The Loot of Nantes (Cutlass 6/20/2018)


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Lord Bayliegh,

Alain Gignot and I, already in route to Nantes, did not spot you as we entered Blockaded, Depleted Nantes. I am told we made our entrance via the same section of crumbling wall you used to slip in. We met up with a man named "Nemo Moridin," who is a cousin of both Moridin and Merd-a-din of the Vert Valliant. Alain was able to convince the man to assist us in coming to your aid. Nemo and I chose to venture east, while Alain searched towards the north.

I have already been appraised of your encounter with the Dock-master, and the clever ruses employed by Percy and Merd-a-din to convince the man to flee, and your, less-clever, attempts to convince the man to flee with cheeses. I heard it was Thomas who finally scared the man off by shooting out a section of wall causing further collapse. Ironically, I believe it was that same section of rubble that allowed us to sneak in without effort.

By the most astounding fortune, we trailed your route, nearly step by step, passing the Barracks where you and Merd-a-din were injured. We heard Percy was the one to knock out all the guards you faced, but that humble man did not brag of the deed.

Nemo and I caught up to the party in the Nantes Cemetery. Ten men faced Thomas, Percy and Lord Botin. Percy was glowering and gesticulating with his fists, and the guards seemed intimidated. Yet, even with Nemo and I joining the group the two-to-one odds seemed like a difficult fight. Or was it?

I have been experimenting with varied brews made from herbs gathered from the lands of the Incago, and my flask is full of a wondrous distillation that promotes vigor and health. With the energies provided by this concoction, and the element of surprise on our side, my initial rush into the fray and the flailing of my fist felled all ten foes before they were able to organize against us. Yet, who should make himself known but the Crown Prince Viktor of Russia, Commander of the victorious Russian Army!

With the dynamism from the herbal compound surging in my veins, I Swaggered towards the Prince and dared him to face me. My skills with the secrets of Oriental Pummeling are not as developed as I had thought and I had to dodge his sword. I Feigned, Seized his Sword-arm as he tried to level his pistol at me, then used Disarming Blows to take his weapon and render him defenseless. Surely with the capture of their General we can force the Russian army to abandon their conquest!

No such luck. Seven more Russian troops charged us. Tomas knocks Lord Botin into one of the guard's swords, but is unable to land an effective blow. While the fortitude granted by my herbal preparation was enough to allow me to turn and swiftly batter the guards into oblivion, Prince Viktor was able to escape.

While we rested, regrouped and told each other our tales, Lord Botin amused himself with a bit of grave-robbing. Such a deed seemed it would be beneath one who is supposed to be noble, yet Lord Botin satisfied himself with a musty, bright (faded) yellow, worm-eaten hat. The rest of us looked askance at the man and wondered if the man's defilement of hallowed ground would taint his luck.

Certainly our luck was not exactly serendipitous from this point. Working through the dark streets of Nantes we seemed to pass the same tavern multiple times. Some of our band seemed demoralized (even wishing to give up our quest for a mug of ale, or even the wine we still carted around the city), while I found myself more cheered by my own fine mixture than even the finest rum!

Eventually we found ourselves on the famed "Bridged Boulevard" where we were forced to Skirmish guards. I witnessed for myself Percy's skills at fisticuffs as he beats down our foes. Yet, again, Percy took no glory in the action. Before being subdued by the Confessor, one of the guards is able to slay Lord Botin. The bullet seemingly passed through an extant hole in the dead man's hat Botin lost his life wearing. Alain caught up to the band, while Thomas took it upon himself to take Botin back to the cemetery to be interred - presumably in the same grave where he had procured his (un)lucky hat?

We shifted south, still seeking the warehouse where the mad Spaniard insisted on taking his cargo of wines. We entered a courtyard where a trio of stone statues toppled on us from above. We had stumbled onto a vault of the Fuggar Bankers. When challenged we declared ourselves Vert Valliant, and the bold declaration proved to be our salvation! As Mal de Merd-a-din is both a member of the Vert Valliant and the Fuggar Cartel we were able to convince these bankers that we had come to protect the vault. The money-men pledge a small favor in return, and Percy told them of the location where you and Merd-a-din lie injured. If you are reading this, they have found you and will bring you to safety.

Perhaps by the time you arrive we'll know how badly Nemo Moridin is injured. He was felled by a stone statue, and, under the blood and stone we are not yet certain how severe the injuries are. The Fuggar physicians say the man might lose an eye, ear or even a limb! Until we can clear away enough stone to pull him free there isn't a way to judge...

Yours,

   Leon Leonard L'eonce



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I wore a Dead Man's Hat -- Botin (posted: 6/22/2018) 
 
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