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/tg/ - Traditional Games


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>Previous thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/26784302/
>Current members of the Durand dynasty you can switch between: Lt. François Durand, and his eleven year old son, Nicolas Durand.

It is the 4th of November, 1781. Nicolas and François Durand have been serving on the Saint-Esprit, a vessel in his majesty, Louis XVI of France's fleet which served ably in the Battle of Chesepeake Bay, managing to capture the 74 gun British ship of the line Alfred during the battle, at cost of damage to itself. Your good captain, Toussaint-Guillaume Picquet, comte de la Motte took a lesser posting over François's objections to escort merchantmen to France rather than following the Admiral Comte de Grasse's fleet in to further action in the West Indies.

While sailing back to France however, the Saint-Esprit and its escorted convoy was attacked by two British vessels. A terrible battle occurred, but by blind luck, the Saint-Esprit managed to score a shot on one of the enemy's powder magazines, dramatically blowing apart the enemy vessel, and sending the other back. However, the Saint-Esprit has lost a mast, and is suffering damage. In the midst of the battle, the loathsome Lieutenant Bargeau in charge of the Alfred with a skeleton crew fled, and only returned after the battle was complete.

Captain Picquet has charged François Durand to go to the Alfred and return Lt. Bargeau in chains for his cowardice. Lt. Durand decided that this was a prime opportunity to take his son along to demonstrate naval justice.

Father and son now, with six marines as support, are rowing to the Alfred. Choose your character.

>François - Stronger, more able to influence the field.
>Nicolas - Obscenely lucky, an opportunity to learn from this.
>>
I'll try again another day.
>>
>>26933069
Lets go with this for now.
>François - Stronger, more able to influence the field.
>>
>>26933069
Francois, for sure
>>
>>26934152
Damnit, I've been waiting all week for this quest and you sneak in when I'm not around? No fair!
>>
Francois. Is it too late to particate in this thread?
>>
>>26933069
>>François
>>
>>26933069
>>Nicolas - Obscenely lucky, an opportunity to learn from this.
>>
holy shit I tought you were kill OP

>Nicolas - Obscenely lucky, an opportunity to learn from this.
>>
>>26933069
Been waiting for this all week! You might want to look into a twitter to give people a heads up when you are about to run something.
>Nicolas - Obscenely lucky, an opportunity to learn from this.
>>
>>26933069
>Nicolas - Obscenely lucky, an opportunity to learn from this.
>>
>>26939215
>>26939104
>>26938932
All day erry day.

Assuming you're still here, Op.
>>
>nobody looks at post times
>keeps bumping a thread eight hours after OP left

Why?
>>
>>26939718
why not?
>>
>>26933069
>Nicolas - Obscenely lucky, an opportunity to learn from this.
>>
>>26939718
fuck you thats why
>>
Is this a running joke?
>>
>Just get down with work.
>Start packing for meeting.
>Check 4chan for no good reason since I should be focusing on packing.
>Come back to this thread still living.

wait what

Okay. So- today is not a good day. Really, this weekend is horrible, since I have to go visit my parents tomorrow for my father's birthday. But I'm glad to see this quest still has a fanbase.

Meeting will probably finish around 1:00 4chan time, and I'll need thirty minutes to drive back.

So. I don't know. I realize that it's totally counter to every one else in the world, but I usually am quite busy on weekends, and have free time on the weekdays.

Polite sage so that this doesn't get needlessly bumped forever and ever.
>>
>>26942765
We could keep the thread up just so you don't have to make another one later. Though on the bright side we got through a round of voting already.
>>
>>26943748
It's better to just let it die. Fresh threads are better.
>>
Isn't it more efficient to use this thread?
>>
I am monitoring this thread
>>
And I'm back. Let's see if anybody will be following.

François Durand 4
Nicolas Durand 5

Nicolas Durand is the chosen perspective. Writing.
>>
Your father has an irrepressible smile. Even after the battle, and it's bloody toll, he looks back to you and gives you a grin, even as the marines haul at the oars to take you to the Alfred. You were denied your musket- you didn't even get a chance to shoot it, but after some complaints, your father relented and gave you a pistol. No more than one shot though.

"We seek to bring a coward home to face his crimes, not give him the ease of a quick death!" You father had said. Your knife and pistol are still at the ready.

Your father spoke of Lieutenant Bargeau with almost as much hate as he spoke of your enemies in the British fleet. Now, apparently, his misdeeds had caught up with him. Fleeing in battle was a grievous offense.

The Alfred stayed with reefed sails and at anchor as the Saint Esprit went through repairs. The mast was lost, and you feared the voyage to Europe would be difficult- but that was for others to worry about. You had to follow your father, and ensure Bargeau received his just desserts.

Your father doesn't ask permission to board- at a challenge from one of Bargeau's cronies, your father only shouts back for the man to attend his business. A line is cast out, and the marines pull the boat close, and haul themselves up the lines on board, your father leading the way, you bringing up the rear.

Lieutenant Bargeau was waiting for you, standing stiffly with his sailors huddled behind him. He is red faced, and his uniform is loose and ragged.

"Lieutenant Bargeau!" Your father stands, stiff and straight backed a good six feet in front of the cowardly Bargeau and his ill kept mob, "Stirring performance in that battle."
"Shut up, François," Bargeau puts on a brave show, but flinches when your father steps closer. He raises his hands, "I had a responsibility to keep my men alive- in this ship with a skeleton crew, we couldn't have helped at all!"
>>
"Your responsibility is to fight with all your might for the glory of France, to the very last," Your father glances around, "Not to scurry away with a prize won by braver men."
"Look at you. 'The glory of France,' hm?" Lieutenant Bargeau steps a bit closer, opens his hands pleading, "You've swallowed their whole lie. Do you think you'll be made a knight for this? Do you think Captain Picquet will let you see one livre from this thing? He's a noble, and you're not, and I'm not, and no one on this damn boat is!" Bargeau then points to you, "Look at your son, François. You're so wrapped up in trying to get the slightest ounce of praise from your noble masters, that you're dragging him in to battle, your own flesh and blood! He should be home, learning to read, trying to better himself, instead of skulking about, stabbing people in the back. How do you think he'll grow up, half feral like this, François?"

Your father stares, unyielding- but quiet. Bargeau sees this as an opportunity, steps closer, nodding.

"Nobody is happy about this, François, you know that. Sure, take me in, see me flogged every day on the voyage back home- or you could try to actually help yourself here, good lieutenant."

"Mutiny," Your father says flatly.
"Liberation," Bargeau hisses, stepping close enough to your father to place a hand on his shoulder, "I came back out of the goodness of my heart, for those other souls on the Saint Esprit. I couldn't let you flounder, missing a mast! You see now," Bargeau places a hand to his breast, "We're on the same side- both common men, both locked out of our rightful reward. Don't think ill of me for preserving our prize," He taps the boat with his foot, for emphasis, "And my fellows on the boat that needed to survive. I admit- perhaps I should have given warning, but Captain Picquet would never strike his colors- he would have fired on me! Let us not be manipulated by the aristocracy any longer, let us speak, as honest men, and look to the future."
>>
Your father glances back to his marines. Your father is even, but you do see some concern in his eyes- and more importantly, some uncertainty in the faces of his marines.

>Speak up. Tell your father not to betray his oaths.
>Speak up. Ask your father to listen to Bargeau.
>Stay silent. Let your father handle this.
>Shoot Bargeau. He's advocating mutiny!
>Other.
>>
>>26950191
>[x]Stay silent. Let your father handle this.

He's a grown ass man, if he can't make his own decisions we're all in deep shit.
>>
>>26950191
>Stay silent. Let your father handle this.
An 11 year old doesn't need to speak for an adult. Let him have his pride, especially in a situation like this.
>>
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>>26950155
>just desserts
Pun intended?
>>
>>26950191
>Stay silent. Let your father handle this.
>>
>>26950220
Your father casts his gaze across the marines behind him. Cocks his eyebrows at each in turn- then sees you looking at him. While keeping his face very still, he gives you a wink, before turning back to Bargeau.

"You're right Bargeau," Your father spreads his hands, shakes his head. Bargeau smiles, "We really should speak of our future."

Bargeau deflates, relieved, closes his eyes. Really wasn't prepared for your father's right hook. He falls flat on his back, unable to even make a noise. The marines behind your father snap to attention, suddenly focused again.

"Specifically," Your father shakes out his hand, and draws his saber at his side, "The penalty for treason," Bargeau's sailors tense, but your father's marines level their muskets at them, causing them to freeze.
"You're an idiot-"
"You're worse, Bargeau. You could live through a flogging, but admitting to me directly a plot to mutiny?" Your father laughs, shaking his head, "Oh, I can't wait to see what Captain Picquet will do to you."
"Look at you!" Bargeau shouts, pointing at your father. Bargeau's sailors skulk back, unwilling to join his suicidal spiral, "With your saber, with your uniform, who are you fooling? You'll never be a noble!"
"Maybe," Your father jerks his head, and two marines approach, manacles at the ready, "But more importantly, I'll never be a traitor."

Bargeau is stood up straight, as he starts ranting, "You're the same as me, François! The only way you'll get a rise in station is at your funeral!"
"Just making things worse for you, Bargeau," Your father points his marines to the row boat, "Get that worm back to Captain Picquet. It's up to him if he dies now, or back in port, and as for the rest of you," Your father turns his gaze to Bargeau's sailors, "None of you would even think of listening to him, right?"

Murmured nos, shakes of the head.
>>
"Good. Now, keep the Alfred here until we come back with a proper officer," Your father walks back to the boat, all smiles.

"Such are the wages of treason, my son," Your father raises a finger, "Let that be a lesson to you."

The boat is somewhat crowded with Bargeau's presence. One of the marines had the foresight to gag him, so you are thankfully spared his envenomed words. Your father is at the prow, and you sit next to him, as your vessel is rowed back to the Saint-Esprit. Your father seems lost in thought, somewhat.

You arrive back on deck of the Saint-Esprit, and note that things have been busy. Currently, the British captain is standing to the side with some of his other officers under the lax eye of some marines, discussing matters in English. He perks up at the sight of your rowing in.

"How now this?" You manage to grasp somewhat with your understanding of English.
"The bad officer," One of his officers whispers. You really need to work on your language, but you feel pretty good seeing as you've only had a month's study of it.
"Understood. The Alfred crewed by few. What a shame," The British captain taps his chin, considering the prize vessel. You note, irritated, that the captain's sword is still at his side.

Your father and his marines haul up the renegade lieutenant, and hot foot him to Captain Picquet who is standing at the aft of the ship, speaking with his first mate animatedly, jabbing at his map.

Your father stops you on the way to the Captain, "Sorry, Nicolas, not this time," Your father glances at Captain Picquet, "I'll get back to you soon, okay?"

>Argue to watch this. You want to see what'll happen, dang it!
>Agree. Then, sneak after him and listen in.
>Agree. Then go talk to these British officers. See what you can learn.
>Agree. Then, listen in on the British. They're up to no good!
>Agree. Then, go see about helping to fix up the ship. Every hand will help.
>Other.
>>
>>26950594
>[x]Agree. Then, go see about helping to fix up the ship. Every hand will help.

Fuck all this heavy stuff, we should just do our best to help out.
>>
>>26950652
okey, writing.
>>
You nod. With the sheer amount of damage to the ship, you've got better things to do.

You learn a little more about the innards of the ship, and carpentry. You also see the Captain's cabin is a loss- regrettably, the broadside delivered to the aft has ruined what was once a rather nice set of quarters. The crew respect your hard work though- you throw yourself whole heartedly in to the task of nailing boards, slopping out blood, and sweeping shrapnel.

Eventually, in your work, you see Lieutenant Bargeau again, stripped out of his uniform and red angry welts along his back, being led down in to the bowels of the ship. He's pushed in to the already crowded brig with the British. Apparently, he'll face a court of law before his execution. More than he deserves.

"You in for?" You're ineffectually trying to put a cannon in a carriage when you hear that, further down. You spare a glance back. Seems the enemy sailors are speaking to Bargeau.

You glance back curious. For now, Bargeau is sullen, staring away. Their erstwhile prison is awfully cramped, so it's almost impossible for Bargeau to pretend not to hear the Briton, but still he tries.

The sailor glances up looks at you, frowns, "You speak English?" He points at his lips, then to Bargeau, "Why he here?"

Meanwhile, above, your father has just been informed that he will be put in charge of the Alfred's skeleton crew, much to his pleasure.

>Switch to François.
>Stay as Nicolas.
>>"He's here because he was speaking of mutiny."
>>"You don't need to know.
>>Ignore the sailor.
>>
>>26951055
>>Switch to François.
>>
>>26951055
>Stay as Nicolas.
>>Ignore the sailor.

We should look confused, then look away. He can't know for sure we know English, after all.
>>
>>26951055

Stay as Nicolas. Ignore the sailor
>>
>>26951212
>>26951172
Je ne parle pas anglais. Writing.

Also, I don't know if it'll change votes, but you can give the command to Nicolas and then switch to François.
>>
You stare at the sailor, putting on your best uncomprehending face. The sailor's mouth forms a bitter line, and he cocks an eyebrow at you.

"Yes? No?"
"I don't speak English, sir," You say in French. The sailor stares, and you start shaking your head, pointing at your lips. The sailor rolls his eyes.

"Great. So few live and none speak French," The sailor rolls his eyes, "And typically, frogs can't learn."

"I speak some," Bargeau murmurs in English, eyes narrowed and considering you.

He's testing you, you realize. What is he thinking?

>Give me 3 1d100 rolls to keep your composure.
>>
Rolled 100

>>26951462
Oh great, he wants to get us to let him out. NOPE!
>>
Rolled 36

>>26951462
>>
Rolled 9

>>26951462
Rolling.
>>
>>26951483
...Nope indeed.

Nicolas is the very image of innocence. Writing.
>>
You stare, cock your head at Bargeau. He looks at you, narrow eyed, swaying with the waves of the boat. You can feel his hate from across the room.

"Pardon?" You ask.
Bargeau rolls his eyes, speaking rapidly in English, "Finally, luck is good. Yes, speak English," He doesn't look back at the British sailor, who stares astonished at him, "But no talk. Not now."

"What are you-"
"Not now," Bargeau hisses that last line, then looks at you, and switches to the mother tongue, "Nicolas, isn't it? What brings you down here?"
"I tend to the ship, sir."
"Hah," Bargeau shakes his head, "No need to sir me. I've lost my rank. Because of your father, and his need to suck up. Tell me, Nicolas, do you know what our good captain said of you, after the taking of the Alfred?"
"Nicolas!" Your father calls from above. You turn your head up, "Nicolas! Great news, Nicolas!"
"Go on then," Bargeau's voice drips generously, "Go run to your father. Like you always do, and always will, you psychotic little urchin. Just ask him why he doesn't defend you, in front of all the officers. If he still blames you for Louis's death. And more importantly, why you had to save HIM on the Alfred."

You turn to Bargeau. He grins nastily. You can't tell what his game is down here, but in the dark and dank, despite the blood on his chin and the manacles on his wrists and the lashings on his back, you can't help but feel he is quite within his element.

>Go find papa.
>Stay here. Keep an eye on Bargeau.
>Other.
>>
>>26951650
>>Stay here. Keep an eye on Bargeau.
>>
>>26951650
>[x]Go find papa.

Fuck this guy.
>>
>>26951650
We should take his sword from him before we leave, if he hasn't already been stripped of it.
>>
>>26951650
>Stay, eye on Borgie-man
>>
>>26951719
Bargeau's sword has been taken from him, so you don't have to worry about that.
>>
>>26951650
Stay.
Bargeau feels like talking, we'll talk.
>>
>>26951740
Damn. We really should get ourselves a nice Cutlass or something. Maybe a properly froggish Rapier
>>
>>26951689
>>26951732
>>26951755

We're not gonna keep rolling 100s, eventually we'll fail a will save and do something dumb.
>>
>>26951763
Regrettably, Nicolas is eleven, and more importantly, him and his father haven't gotten the dosh from the Alfred yet. But as soon as that happens- and young Alfred takes fencing lessons, there's going to be a glut of unreasonable detail about swords for Nicolas to choose from.

Anyway, two more minutes for voting.
>>
>>26951788
We're on a ship though, and we've just captured a bunch of British Sailors. Surely there's got to be a spare piece of a steel laying about that no one will mind missing much?
>>
>>26951755
>>26951732
>>26951689
Staying to keep an eye on Bargeau.

>>26951813
Hmm. And there are plenty of dead crew. If the thread is up for it, Nicolas can go filching for a spare sword. I'll make it a 1d100 going by the first roll luck roll. Just as soon as I finish writing this bit.
>>
Rolled 59

>>26951835
>>
Rolled 90

>>26951835
I'm down for finding us a sword. Couldn't hurt to have one, at least.
>>
>>26951813
We have a knife, right? That's good enough for most stuff. An eleven year-old using a sword is too much for me.
>>
>>26951835
>>26951844
>>26951851
I have a feeling someone would just take it away soon enough, but sure, if you want to feel big with a big boys sword, go for it.
>>
You stare at Bargeau.

"Nicolas? Nicolas, where are you!"

Bargeau grins.

"Your papa calls, child. Why don't you go running to him?"
"What are you planning, lieutenant?"
"I'm not planning a thing," Bargeau leans in, "Well, not anymore. I planned to keep my men alive- that went well, until your boot licker of a father came running in to try to curry favor."

You glance to the side. The marines are currently heaving against a twisted hunk of iron that might once have been a cannon. No one here is watching.

"You ran in battle," You look back at Bargeau, getting angry, "You're a coward."
"And there are many brave, dead men on this ship, boy," Bargeau drawls, leaning against the bars, "If you'll note, the Alfred, with me and my crew? All fine, bar a few splinters."
You're starting to get angry, despite yourself. He talks very calmly, glorying in his perfidious ways. Scum.

"Nicolas!" Your father's voice, "Confound it, where are you hiding?"

Bargeau glances over, then back to you, "You're brave, aren't you? To stay down here, with me, and the British, chattering away so innocently?"

The British sailor glances between the two of you, then whispers in English, "What?"
"Wait," Bargeau whispers English before switching back to French, "Your father never did explain what he had against me, did he?"
"He says you're a treacherous lying sneak and charlatan," You hiss, trying to get yourself under control, "And that's the end of it!"
"Oh? Well, perhaps he didn't say- Marseilles. He and I, we grew up there, you know?" His eyes glint in the dark, "And your mother- such a dear thing, oh, such a pretty one. I knew her first, you know."

You're gripping on to the handle of your knife so hard you fear your fingers will break.

"Does she talk about me?" Bargeau's smile itches at your eyes. You hate it.

"How old are you now- eleven? What a coincidence, just twelve years back, I had her groaning, sweating up against the wall of a-"

Enough!

>Roll 3 1d100s to control your rage.
>>
Rolled 8

>>26952093
Rolling low! How dare this wretch insult our lady mother!
>>
Rolled 53

>>26952093
>>
Rolled 25

>>26952093
You fuckers, I told you, don't mess with the will saves, now we're gonna get a 1.
>>
Rolled 50

>>26952093
>>
Rolled 29

>>26952093
>>
Rolled 99

>>26952093
It is far better to be brave and die than to be cowardly and survive by hiding from the Black Warrior.
>>
Rolled 32 + 20

>>26952131
>>26952124
>>26952115
Hm. Low indeed.

Give me another 2 1d100s, add a penalty of 20. Do that by going 'dice 1d100+-20"
>>
>>26952093

Our mother is noble and fine woman, she wouldn't consort with creatures like him....
>>
Rolled 31

>>26952182
>>
Rolled 5

>>26952131
>implying I don't want to roll a 1 to have an excuse to gut this pig where he stands

How can we be blamed if, in his cowardice, he throws himself upon our knife?
>>
Rolled 52 - 20

>>26952182
At least there were no nat 1s.
>>
>>26952182
Can you please count this. >>26952174
>>
Rolled 57 - 20

>>26952182
>>
Rolled 34 - 20

>>26952182
>>
Rolled 24 + 20

>>26952182
>>
Rolled 100 - 20

>>26952182

I seriously need to learn how to roll these dice
>>
Okay, thank you. Writing.

>>26952210
...I'm sorry, but I can't.
>>
>>26952232
........................
GOD FUCKING
FUCKERS
>>
>>26952232
hey a crit we're not fucked
>>
>>26952174
>>26952232
The dice are cursed.
>>
>>26952274
I told you fuckers. But noo, you all wanted to provoke the /tg/ dice and now you must suffer the consequences.
>>
Rolled 7

>>26952328
It is far better to be brave and die than to be cowardly and survive by hiding from the Random Number Generator.
>>
>>26952328
It's cool. A story of spectacular failures is no less fun than a story of glorious victories.
>>
Rolled 55 - 20

>>26952241
>>26952274
>>26952328
>>26952345
>>26952368


What the hell did I just rolled that nat 100 for? Did I just killed that fucker or did we kept our cool
>>
Rolled 15, 92, 94 = 201

You're not sure what happened. Strangely, as the man talked, the world narrows down to two definite points. Lieutenant Bargeau, this ugly, pox scarred, black haired, brown toothed and red faced man, smiling as he slanders your mother's character. And the knife in your hand, heavy, wet with your sweat, your fingers painfully wrapped around it.

You give a strangled cry, and push forward, drawing the knife from your belt, bringing it down in a vicious stab aiming for his beady blue eyes. He draws back out of your range, as you scream, swear to kill him- then feel the wind get knocked out of you by a kick, and see his manacles wrap around your wrist. You barely get a moment to yell, before you're pulled forcefully in to the bars, temple first, and you see stars- and realize you dropped your knife.

You feel a hand wrap around your mouth, and are drawn back in to the bars, cold steel at your throat.

"If it's any comfort," He hisses in to your ear in French, "There's no way you're my child. I would hope that he wouldn't be such an imbecile. Guard!" He shouts, and you look to see the marines at the end of the walk suddenly perk up at his shout, "I don't feel well, I have a terrible case of child here that might grow terminal, you should go get Lieutenant Durand. Better he see it himself rather than break the news to him."

The marines freeze, muskets up, pointing at you and Bargeau. The two exchange glances, indecision wracking them. Your pistol. You pat your belt, before Bargeau slams your head back in to the bars, making you cry out involuntarily. You didn't feel it. Where did your pistol go? You wriggle, managing to get your mouth free. You'll have to be quick- Bargeau is already grabbing at your mouth.

>"Do as he says!"
>"Don't do it, just shoot him!"
>Other

>>26952274
>Or they have a great sense of irony.
>>
>>26952516
>"Don't do it, just shoot him!"

We're the luckiest fuckers on the sea (even if we're not very good at holding our temper), so we should be fine.
>>
>>26952516
>"Don't do it, just shoot him!"
Fuck you Bargeau.
>>
>>26952516
Don't do it shoot him
>>
>>26952516
Kick him in the genitals!
>>
>>26952516
What a coward. Runs from battle but gladly takes on a child. Nico should kick and scratch and scream for everything he's worth to get loose.
>>
>>26952516
Bite his hand hard
>>
>>26952640
>>26952696
Bite him in the genitals!

But yes, use teeth. Hand is probably easier.
>>
Rolled 70

>>26952713
>>26952696
>>26952694
>>26952640
Okay, I'll throw in bite scratch n' fight then, along with a side of "Just shoot him!"

And, what the hey, Nicolas's Luck comes in to play. Due to the previous nat 100, no penalties.

Give me 3 1d100 rolls, best of first 3 to be chosen.
>>
Rolled 73

>>26952754
>>
Rolled 39

>>26952754
Nat 1 incoming!
>>
Rolled 3

>>26952754
rolling
>>
Rolled 72

>>26952754
>>
>>26952770
Success! Barely, but still, success! Writing.
>>
>>26952777
well that was close but hey I get trips
>>
"Don't listen to him! Just shoot him!" You shout, squirming in Bargeau's grip. Through bars and with manacles, he's at a disadvantage- you feel the knife nick your throat, and freeze. Bargeau gets his fingers around your mouth again.

"Right, of course, real easy to explain to the boss that you shot his son, right?" Hisses Bargeau- then says in English, "You get thaAAAAA" anything else he might have been saying fades in to a scream, as you bite deep in to his fingers, drawing blood. He throws you off of his fingers, and you feel a cut run up the side of your jaw and skip over your eye to resume past the brow- but aside from the pain, it's only skin deep.

You land opposite of him, and crawl away, spitting out his flesh and blood.

"My FINGER! You bastard!"

The marines hustle by you, raising their muskets to point at Bargeau, and suddenly his harsh voice changes, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down now, see?" You see Bargeau creep to the opposite side of the cell, hands up and open, knife clattering in the middle of the cell, "Nothing to worry about, sorry- you should have seen it, he came at me."

"You lied about my mother!" You shout, infuriated, before biting back on your fury, to clamp a hand over your eye, stinging with blood draining in to it from your brow.

"You weaselly coward," Growls one marine, musket covering Bargeau, "Attacking a child? You can't even stand up in battle, and you try to hide behind a child?"

"Right," Bargeau's eyes turn to you, a smile on his face, "That's just me. Grabbing at straws. I'm sorry," He looks up, "Doesn't he look poorly? You should take him to Lieutenant Durand, don't you think?"

"The knife, kick it over here-" The marine reshoulders his musket, "Slowly."

The other marine meanwhile crouches down, a hand on your shoulder, "Are you alright?"

You hear footsteps hurrying over to where you're at right now. Something's wrong.

>Go to your father.
>Stay, watch.
>Other.
>>
>>26953022
Stay watch
>>
>>26953022
>Stay, watch.
>>
>>26953022
Stay. Coward's not getting the pleasure of seeing us run.

"Better than the coward, for sure."
>>
>>26953022
>Go to your father.
>>
>>26953022
also we have a bad ass scar now +5 charm
>>
>>26953022
Stay and watch.
>>
Right, staying.

And yes, young Nicolas now has a badass scar.
>>
>>26953022
>"My FINGER! You bastard!"
I loled.
>>
"I'm fine," You glare daggers at Bargeau, "Better than he'll be soon."

"I say again!" The marine holds up the musket, pointing at Bargeau, sitting back, holding his mangled finger close, "Push over the knife!"
"I heard you the first time," Bargeau says, putting his boot on the knife, and scraping it to the edge of the cell within the marine's reach.

The marine stares at Bargeau, and shakes his head, "I would have testified in your favor, lieutenant," He crouches down, grabs the knife. Bargeau makes no motion to move. He merely stares up at the marine.

"Come on," The marine at your shoulder looks up, as the footsteps approach, "Your father must be worried-"
"Something's wrong," You stare at Bargeau. He stares back, looking awfully blasé, all things considered. Condemned to near certain death, escape attempt foiled by a child, he still seemed calm. Smug.

"Nicolas! Nicolas!" Your father's shouting breaks you out of your reverie, as your father comes running down the hall, concern in his eyes, "Oh my God, what has happened to you? Oh God, my child, quick, Pierre, take him to Albert, how could this have happened?" He reaches for your head, before bringing his hand back- then he sees Bargeau. And the smile on his face. And the blood on his fingers. And the puddle of blood in front of the cell, that leads to where you sit now.
>>
"Bargeau, that is to say, well, Pierre and I, we," The marine by you tries to speak, before realizing that your father isn't listening. He walks over to the cell.

Your father has a dreadful calm. You've seen your father angry- angry at shirkers, enraged at cheats, furious at decisions from higher ups. But always, always, he bared his teeth when that happened, and strangely, that made you calm, because you knew your father always kept a smile near when that happened.

He's nowhere near smiling now, staring down at Bargeau, eyes narrowed. He and Bargeau share stares, before Bargeau breaks the silence.

"He started it," Bargeau says with a smile. Your father's face doesn't twitch a single muscle. Your father contemplates Bargeau. Like a doctor contemplates a corpse. Finally, your father speaks, acts, shrugging out of his coat.

"Gentlemen," Your father says, taking off his jacket precisely, without passion, without looking away from Bargeau, "Leave us."

The marines stare at your father for a moment, before grabbing you under the arm pits, and dragging you to your feet, and away. Bargeau's smile has faded.

>"Father, don't throw your career away for this low life."
>Go with the marines.
>Other.
>>
>>26953635
>>"Father, don't throw your career away for this low life."
>>
>>26953604
>>26953635
Who has the pistol?
>>
>>26953671
Good eye. Warn our father that Bargeau may have the pistol.

General sentiment is to tell Father not to throw away career for asshole Bargeau.
>>
>>26953671
Very good. I was afraid for a while there.
>>
>>26953635
>>26953671
Oh my.

Warn Francois. He must move immediately.
>>
Anyway, double warning.
>>
Your pistol. The pistol your father gave you-

"Wait, father!"
Your father does not turn away, as you're dragged back by the marines. Your father talks, as if he didn't hear you, "It is not enough that you're a coward and a mutineer, you would hurt my son as well?" He takes off his sword, "Here. Take my sword. I'll give you a fighting chance when I beat you with my bare fists-"

You jerk out of the hands of the marines, then dash forward to your father, and practically tackle him. Your father finally tears his glance from Bargeau to look at you irritated, but before he can say anything, you whisper up to him, "My pistol, he took my pistol."

That breaks your father out of his vengeful reverie.

He looks back in to the cell, glancing over Bargeau. You look at him yourself, but don't see anything either. Shabbily dressed as he is, he doesn't seem like he could hide anything.

Then your father looks over to the crowded British sailors in their cells. A large man with mutton speaks English out of the side of his mouth, "They might know."
"Shut up," Bargeau hisses out of the side of his mouth right back in English.

Your father glares over at Bargeau, who smiles innocently, "A prayer, good sir."

Your father can't speak English. He's still glaring at Bargeau.

>Act casual. Tell your father to act casual. Walk away.
>He needs to know now that there's a pistol loose in the hands of the British prisoners. Let them know you know.
>Other.
>>
>>26953849
Tell him that Bargeau gave it to the prisoners say that you saw the pistol thrown over to the Brits
>>
>>26953849
Tell him to walk away from the door so that they are unable to shoot him. Afterwards, tell him that there is a pistol in the hands of the prisoners. Tell him about the Englishman saying, "They might know."
>>
File: 1378029585442.jpg-(23 KB, 467x325, casual.jpg)
23 KB
23 KB JPG
>>26953907
Second.

All casually.
>>
>>26953849
>He needs to know now that there's a pistol loose in the hands of the British prisoners. Let them know you know.
>>
>>26953945
>>26953927
>>26953907
>>26953891
Hm. Tie.

To boil down the choices past my awkward, 3:04AM phrasing.

>Just out and out say that there's a pistol, which might freak out the Brits but will solve the problem now.
Or
>Try to sneak you and your father away first before telling your dad about the pistol, which might give them time for fiendish plots.

I'll give it another five minutes, then roll a 1d2.
>>
>>26953979
>Just out and out say that there's a pistol, which might freak out the Brits but will solve the problem now.
>>
>>26953993
Okay, out and out saying it.

Also, forgot my tripcode. Sorry.
>>
Rolled 2

"The other prisoners, the British ones have the pistol," You say it bluntly.

Your father's eyes bug out, and then he turns to the Brits who stare back uncomprehending. Bargeau's face twists in to a mask of rage, "Damn it, I should have known you would understand-" He switches to English, "They know, they know!"

The British prisoners perk up at that, then glance over to your father. Not the brightest, but he has good reflexes, and understands trouble when it hits.

He pushes you back, and out of the way, grabbing his cutlass.

"Marines? Muskets!" He shouts, pointing his blade at the cramped British prisoners.

Bargeau looks down, defeated. The British prisoners on the other hand stare blankly at your father. The marines behind your father draw up their muskets, leveling them at the prisoners. Your father shouts the only English word he knows.

"Surrender!"

There's not really that much you can do when you see that many barrels pointed at you.

A pistol is set down outside of the cell, the sailor holding it making a sour face, "Bloody stupid plan," he growls in his language. Your father, relieved, walks over and snatches it up, sticking it in his belt. He gives a reproaching wag of his finger to the British, before stopping by Bargeau's cell.

"Pray that you only hang, Bargeau," Your father hisses, "There are remarkably few that get off so lightly that harm my family."

Bargeau doesn't say anything. Only looks away.

Your father walks to you, and smiles. You try to smile back, but with the loss of adrenaline, your face is really starting to hurt.

"Come on warrior," He pats you on the shoulder, tugs you along, "Let's get Albert to take a look at that."

You and your father leave the hold.

Your wound is treated, painfully- it will probably scar. Albert swears up and down that ladies love a man with a good scar.

Bargeau stays in the hold.

>Next session- Lieutenant François commanding the Alfred.
>>
>>26954194
>Whoops. That 1d2 doesn't mean anything.

>Anyway, got weak there at the end. Work/lack of sleep. Sorry folks. I'll pick this up tomorrow at around the same time, if that's okay with you.

>Until then, rest well.
>>
Good night, OP
>>
Night night. Good storytelling.
>>
>>26954205
is there a name for that specific type of scar? With all of the anime protags that have them the japanese probably have one.
>>
>>26954284
Don't mention it, QM'll get pissed and make it becoming a god awful septic infection.
>>
>>26954284
not sure but if am not mistaken the scars on Joker are called "Glasgow smile"
>>
>>26954375
I think we would have noticed a glasgow smile.
>>
Should this be archived?
>>
>>26954610
I duno how to do it. Some kind anon?
>>
>>26955301
Archived.
>>
>>26954205

FUCK

I missed it.

Well, at least I'll have the archives.
>>
>>26954205
Keeping the thread alive
>>
>>26959788
I guess I'll do the same.

We want Nicolas to become a captain, right?
>>
>>26959788
>>26962303
Just ;let it die. Why do you insist on keeping this thread alive?

It's the way. This thread is over. Next time he runs it will be Gunpowder Quest: 3
>>
>>26962303
Well we did say we didn't know what we wanted to do, but then again we are eleven.


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