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>>3695992

This morning started like many others. You rolled out of a bed that wasn't yours, retraced your steps from the previous, alcohol filled night, managed to find Dutch after you both returned to the shitty dive bar you obtained said alcohol in, and took on a contract to find some Eastern-phile's tablet.

The sun's now out in full force as you and Dutch make your way back to the Regar Ward. It contains every dock in Airgrid, so if you're looking for a sailor there's no reason to bother going anywhere else. According to your client, the sailor in question is a man by the name of Edward; he's got some vague involvement in all of this but you don't particularly give a shit.

You will admit that something has been rubbing you the wrong way thus far. Gut instinct isn't the best thing to solely rely on, but for now it's all you've got. So you turn to your best friend and speak up, "Hugo gives me the creeps."

Dutch looks around for a second, but you've already check that no one is paying attention to either of you, "We've been over this, John. You don't have to like the client for them to pay you."

"That's not what I meant. This whole job bloody stinks and I'd bet anything that bastard didn't get scratches all over the back of his hands drinking leaf piss."

The conversation peters off after that. For your part you:
> Think Hugo is a creep, but ultimately not an issue for you.
> Think Hugo is a creep, and is up to something with this job.
> Other

>>3695997
> Think Hugo is a creep, and is up to something with this job.

>>3695997
>> Think Hugo is a creep, and is up to something with this job.

>>3695997
>> Think Hugo is a creep, and is up to something with this job.

>Think Hugo is a creep, and is up to something with this job.

>>3695997
> Think Hugo is a creep, and is up to something with this job.

>>3695997
>> Think Hugo is a creep, but ultimately not an issue for you.

>>3698030
Boooo!

>>3695997
> Think Hugo is a creep, but ultimately not an issue for you.
Dude has a cat, what's the problem?

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>>3696430
>>3697445
>>3697485
>>3697496
>>3697647

Suspicion it is.

Writin'

Character Sheet Not necessary for this one-shot: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1lvqwQrtQ_YFvsVdcKJbSEAgpyZi9QrfJfnh_UDzvPKw/edit?usp=sharing
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>>3695997

Dutch is right in that, so long as the client pays you at the end of the day, it simply doesn't matter whatever else may or may not be occurring. Still, there's a reason why you're the dedicated thinker of you two. Like hell are you going to dismiss a suspicion until it's no longer relevant.

Any further discussion is put to the side as the two of you make it to the docks. While you were only gone for just over an hour, the amount of people now in the Regar Ward has damn near tripled. Merchants shout over one another, screaming out the quality and quantity of their goods while people walk between the stone docks and wooden stalls. The two of you have no issue navigating the thick crowds, though every once and a while you spot someone getting their purse snatched.

Given how he's the one actually part of the Genovese, you let Dutch lead the way. He's more than familiar with various groups and gangs around here, so it's not really a surprise when he walks up to a group of 'em sitting around on crates smoking away.

While he's chatting up the sailors, you:
> Wander around, see if you overhear something interesting among the crowds.
> Find another group of sailors and chat 'em up, no use having Dutch do all the legwork.
> Just wait here for now, Dutch has this in the bag.
> Other

>>3700130
> Find another group of sailors and chat 'em up, no use having Dutch do all the legwork.

>>3700130
>Wander around, see if you overhear something interesting among the crowds.

>>3700130
>> Wander around, see if you overhear something interesting among the crowds.

>>3701153
>>3701378

Wander it is.

> Roll me three 1d100’s please

Rolled 17 (1d100)

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>3704421

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>3704421

>>3704612
>>3704476
>>3704435

Well, there's one decent number in there.

Writin'

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>>3700130

With Dutch taking care of his business, you stroll off back into the crowd. Sure, you might learn something more specific if you were to seek out another group of sailors, but you've never had the charisma for that sort of work.

Being another faceless person in a crowd, however, is something you've far more experience with. While your blonde hair, even the dull shade yours is, might attract some attention, there's enough people in Airgrid that the novelty has worn off.

As expected, what little you manage to overhear from the multitude of people speaking has nothing to do with your investigating. That's not to say that nothing of note occurred, as something most certainly did.

Walking by one of the various alleyways in the Ward, you catch sight of a merchant pacing nervously back and forth, with his personal guard alternating between speaking quietly to him and keeping a lookout. You don't overhear much, but the merchant does let loose an outburst of, "-ow to keep patient! But I will not be here forever! Those damn S-". The rest is cut off as you pass the alley.

Turning back to where Dutch is, you navigate through the crowd back to the docks themselves. Oddly enough, the lot of them are already looking at you, with one of them pointing directly at you.

There's a moment of confusion before you feel someone knock into your back. You're suddenly over the water, with one foot just barely still on the stone dock, when gravity takes hold and you drop into the port.

> Roll me three 1d100's please

Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>3706784

Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>3706784

Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>3706784

>>3706784
Fucks sake John, WHERE IS YOUR PARANOIA!?!

Always check over your shoulder at regular intervals and when turning corners, Always assume the blight is near, NEVER LET YOUR GUARD DOWN AND NEVER LET DUTCH TAKE CARE OF THE BOOZE!

Panic over.

>>3707840

Well, what series of events do you think happened that reinforced John’s paranoia?

>>3707007

47, Failure

Writin’

>>3706784

The crash of the water and it’s frigid embrace come as a shock, one that makes you freeze up for a second. The sounds of the market, scant meters away from you, are gone and you’re left all alone in the growing dark.

Panic takes you for a moment before your nerves settle and you instinctually kick your leg. Bit by bit, you crawl your way back to the surface, arms weighed down by your coat, and breaking the surface comes with a flood of relief as you let out a breath you never knew you took in.

Taking a quick look around, you see most are continuing about with their business though a scant few are watching with careful interest. Dutch is no where to be seen, but the sailors he was speaking to are motioning for you to move towards them. You oblige, a few careful, controlled strokes are all you need before you make it to the stone dock, where two of the sailors offer you a hand each and pull you right out of the water when you grab on.

“You alright there sonny?” One of them asks as you awkwardly pull at your clothes. You just respond with a nod, stripping off your coat as you do, “Good thing ya knew how to swim, eh?”

“Yeah, guess it is,” You don’t remember ever learning how to swim. Oddly, there’s a faint pulling sensation in the back of your head that you do your best to immediately ignore, “Where did Dutch run off to?”

“Runnin’ afta the bloke that pushed ya in, I’d reckon,” The other lights a cigarette up as he paused.

The rest of the sailors sit back down as he does, which you figure is as good a chance to bow out as any, “Thanks, see you around.”

With water still dripping off you and the smell of brine firmly in your nose, you consider what to do next.
> Chase off after Dutch, he can’t have gone far.
> Just head back to Dutch’s place, you need to dry off and change anyways.
> Other

>>3707925
AAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH

>>3707962
>Chase dutch.
Lets hope we have a knife.

>>3708423

You do in fact have a knife.

>>3707962
>> Chase off after Dutch, he can’t have gone far.

>>3707962
> Chase off after Dutch, he can’t have gone far.

>>3707962
>> Chase off after Dutch, he can’t have gone far.

>>3708423
>>3710901
>>3711056
>>3713922

Chase after Dutch it is.

Writin'

>>3707962

You blow a wet strand of hair out of your face, mildly irritated at just how bloody soaked you are when you process just exactly what the sailor said. Dutch ran off after the guy that shoved you.

...

Cursing under your breath, you do your best to sprint through the heavy crowd that still fills the dockside. It's only your spry build that lets you slip through the throng of people and you break into the alleys. Looking around, you hear a flicker of a familiar voice coming from further down the cobblestone back streets and take off into a sprint.

When you come around another corner, the voices clarify as one you don't recognize speaks up, "Don't be so stupid, kid. You're surrounded and outnumbered so put the damn gun down."

Quietly looking around the corner, you spot a man in sailor's garb with his back to you holding a bat of sorts. It's hard to see through him, but any doubt is removed when you hear Dutch bark out a laugh, "Three-to-one? You think that's an advantage? I'd like to see you salt whores try!"

Creeping up, you see another two men, one of which is staring down the barrel of your bud's revolver. Both are armed as well with shivs but neither looks excited at charging the gunslinger, especially when he's got one revolver still held down and to the side. You know from experience that he's more than capable to snap a shot off with a flick of his wrist. Still, despite his boasts, you know that even with his skill Dutch only has two revolvers and, with one guy right behind him, this could get ugly if the situation degenerated.

A man that still hasn't noticed your presence barely two meters behind him.

Your hand falls to the handle of your knife that's tucked in the small of your back.

Now what?
> Announce your presence.
> Announce your presence, threaten the man in front of you.
> That's Dutch, your best damn friend, and you are not taking the risk. You fucking stab the man before introducing yourself.
> Other

>>3721584
>> That's Dutch, your best damn friend, and you are not taking the risk. You fucking stab the man before introducing yourself.

>>3721584
>> That's Dutch, your best damn friend, and you are not taking the risk. You fucking stab the man before introducing yourself.

>>3721584
>> That's Dutch, your best damn friend, and you are not taking the risk. You fucking stab the man before introducing yourself.

>>3721597
>>3721698
>>3721892

The die is cast.

> Roll me three 1d100's please

Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>3721994

Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>3721994
STAB

Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>3721994

>>3721998

90, Success.

Writin'

>>3721584

The dagger feels cold in your hands, though that may just be from the cold water that still clings to you. You know that you're running the risk of exposure from being out for this long, but the usual shakes aren't there and the chill that washes over you simply settles your nerves.

Without hesitation, you reach over the man's shoulder, grab him by the chin, pull up, and plunge the dagger into the side of his neck.

He's halfway through a shout of alarm when he collapses with a wet gurgle. When he hits the cobblestone, the remaining two men stare at you in mute shock. Dutch, though, you don't even need to see his face to know there's a shit-eating grin on his face, "Was wondering when you'd get here, Johnny." You just flick the blade clean, stepping over the quickly-dying man. There's a twinge of something in your gut as you do, but you put it out of your head as you stand next to your best friend. He must take a quick glance at you, because the bastard cackles for a quick second. You don't reward him with a response, "Alright, time to squeal. Who do I have to thank for making this guy look like a wet cat?"

The two look between each other, one far more shifty than the other; that one probably doesn't have a damn clue what's going on. Your suspicions are confirmed when the other speaks up, "You bloody idiots ar-".

He's cut off by the sounds of heavy boots against stone.

"Scales, shit!" Dutch voices your realization just before you do.
> Run for it. You've got a corpse, blood dripping down your shirt, and a strong desire to be anywhere else but here.
> Try to quickly interrogate the man. You need to know he was about to say.
> Other

>>3722392
>> Run for it. You've got a corpse, blood dripping down your shirt, and a strong desire to be anywhere else but here.

>>3722392
>>3722439
+1

>>3722392
>> Run for it. You've got a corpse, blood dripping down your shirt, and a strong desire to be anywhere else but here.

>>3722392
>Run for it.

Dutch, kindly kill these two with a shot so they don't squeal our names out. Because yes, you said my name.

>>3722392
>> Run for it. You've got a corpse, blood dripping down your shirt, and a strong desire to be anywhere else but here.

>>3722439
>>3723465
>>3723495
>>3724082
>>3724185

Run takes it.

Writtin’

>>3722392

For a split second, the two of you stare at the other pair as they look back, as if daring you to try something with the Scale Knight on their way. The sounds of those heavy boots getting closer and the corpse that you’re personally responsible for pushes you to give Dutch a nudge towards the nearest alleyway. He covers them both with his revolvers, you’re both being cautious not stupid, until you round the corner at which point the two of you break into a sprint.

After almost five minutes straight of running, you and Dutch come to a stop off one of the main streets. Both of his revolvers and your knife are back to their holsters and sheath respectively, so any onlookers would just see two young men standing about and hopefully mind their own damn business.

“That was a fuckin’ wash,” Dutch speaks up first, his eyes flicking to you for a second, “Literally, in your case.”

“Fuck off, Dutch,” You roll your eyes, but your heart isn’t into it. Even though you’re soaked, a fact that’s becoming more prevelant as the adrenaline fades, there’s something else on your mind, “Why did ya run off anyways, Dutch?”

The grin slides right off his face, “Cause the bastard that pushed you was Edward. Don’t know what the fuck his deal was, John, but it sounded like he knew something we don’t.”

“I told you this job stunk.”

Pulling at your still wet clothing, you consider what to do next:
> Head back to Dutch’s place. You need to wash and a fresh change of clothes before you get sick.
> See if you can’t find Stella. You’ve currently got nothing to go on, but she might know about ‘Hugo’.
> Other

>>3730256
>> See if you can’t find Stella. You’ve currently got nothing to go on, but she might know about ‘Hugo’.

>>3730256
>See stella
Time to visit the bootycall who can kick ass.

>>3730256
>> Head back to Dutch’s place. You need to wash and a fresh change of clothes before you get sick.