Another night at The Broadside. Port Bounty's most infamous pub holds a secret below it's main floor. While the surface it is all fairly humdrum both in decor and menu, all one has to do is know the right person and utter a whispered word. 'Round back lies a door that requires another password and a key. "Open sesame!"
you said, while inserting the key you got from the man whom you'd whispered the first word. The road here had been paved with bribes, fast talking, and strong arming. The secret swings open on hidden hinges and the sounds of music, chants, and fighting fills your ears. You descend into a much more decadent decor, the lavish luxuries paid for with stolen and 'found' treasures. A den of pirates. The air is thick with smoke and the smell of hearty ale. "Ahoy ye pox-faced monkey! Get on over here an' have a seat, I'll tell ye of my last adventure!"
A throaty voice fills your ears. You turn and see the source is a strong-looking dark-skinned woman with patchwork armor, white facepaint, and an infectious smile. For a moment you think she is directly addressing you. A bit of embarrassment washes over you as you realize that she's addressing the entire crowd instead. Her charm and confidence seem to be drawing people in. She seems pleased and, soon enough, has half the tavern by her table. She stands with one foot on her chair."Isobel Rose of The Buzzards! Let me tell ye of a vast treasure never before seen!"
Raising her arms, she spreads her hands out, as if unfurling an invisible map in front of her. "Ages ago, the dwarves -bless the little bastards- invented something mighty important. No, not airships an' black powder. Important as they may be, it's not flight or fightin' I'm talkin' about here. An' no it's not rum, ye drunkards! I'm talkin',"
here her voice drops an octave and practically drips with mystery and awe, "about the greatest weapon anyone's ever seen. The mightiest force ta be reckoned with. It could make a peasant into a king, a pirate into a ruler! It, along with other treasures they sought to protect, were hidden away 'pon a mountain higher than any man could walk an' higher than any airship could reach. They sought to keep it away from those that would not wield it properly, yet were too prideful to destroy it. They sought to-""It's The Motherlode! Everyone's heard that fairy tale!"
calls someone in the back. All eyes turn. Gazes are quickly drawn back when Isobel (or Izzy, as you later come to find she prefers to be called) slams her fist down on the table with a thundering crash. The room is tense. You think she's about to kill someone. She reaches. Pulls out a gilded piece of paper. Her hand slaps it down on the table and all eyes are drawn to it. The golden parchment is not what you expected.Ka-blam!
It's all the excuse she needed to get her other hand on her sidearm and put a neat, clean hole in the interruptors forehead. He topples over, dead. Izzy's smile returns. The crowd, for the moment, is stunned. Not by the death, though. Mostly just by the gunfire and powder discharge. Your ears ring for a moment. When everyone has regained themselves they eye Isobel again and she continues. She waves to the map while tucking her pistol away."It's not a legend. It's not,"
she insists, firmly, "and here is half the map to it. Now, since me an' my crew had a bit of a fallin' out,"
(Later you find out that they fell out. Like, literally. She pushed them off the airship. All of them.) "I find myself a bit short 'o reliable help. So if ye sign on with me, yer in for the adventure of a lifetime an' ye just might end up with more treasure than you can handle. We split it, even. ...After I get my captain's share, of course!"
She has a hearty laugh at this. "All we need to get goin' is two things; an engineer worth his salt and the other half of the map, which lies-"
And suddenly the speech is interrupted again. This time it's not by a loudmouthed drunkard, though, but a boot to the secret door which cracks off it's hinges and topples to the floor. In strides a man in the crisp white dress of a Navy officer's uniform. He is built like a brick wall and sports the finest mustache you've ever seen. At his side, a pair of naval soldiers sporting similar dress - though they are not similarly mustachioed. You recognize the magnificantly mustachioed man as Captain Regenald Orsvelt, one of the most feared men in the Imperial Navy. The Navy has found your new safe haven. Before he can act, however, Izzy's grin suddenly returns and she points directly at Regenald. Her words fill the tavern."-in the hands of that man! First one to put a bullet in 'im gets a bigger share!"
And all erupts into chaos.
This is another try at an interest check for my steampunk sky pirate adventure. I am looking for a few crew members to join me on an epic journey for untold wealth and unmatched adventure. This will be a Choose Your Own Adventure-style narrative where, periodically, I will offer a crew member or the group as a whole (depending on the situation) a choice, which they can then discuss and make a decision on. The story will branch depending on your choices. We will have a set posting order and frequent posting is required, therefore I am seeking members who will be around quite often and can manage a steady posting speed. That's all for right now. Thanks for reading!