S1: E5 "Pepperbox"

Roku Meets Jim

There is something universally appealing in the comical nature of men falling prey to their own machinations; consider the sight of one slipping on his own banana, falling into his own snare or drowning in his own pudding. It satisfies a deep sense of justice and brings Fate full circle. This is why I found myself once again, seated in a corner behind a shadow, watching the collection of raccoons returning to their home only to find that once again, their well laid plans had started to unravel.

Roku had chanced to hear something human stir on the other side of the door to his flat. He was not accustomed to sharing his rooms, or the general knowledge they existed, with anyone else. His mind was singular then in this matter. He would venture quietly inside, procure his pistol which he had mistakenly left near his bed and shoot the intruder (or intruders, as the thought of his previous guests returning had crossed his mind). 

Moving with the agility of a circus troupe across the furniture they knew so well, into the bedroom, and emerged with determination and a pepperbox in hand...er, paw. To their surprise, and confusion, they found a man of average height, brown skin, greying hair and narrow features standing in their kitchen in a green coat and matching pants. To say the man was not thoroughly confused when summoned to surrender his immediate freedom and reach for the Heavenlies, only to turn around in complete compliance and find a collection of raccoons glaring at you from behind a well used pistol, would have been a gross understatement. He was completely frightened in fact, and would have lost control of his bowels had it not been for the assurance he was in the right place.

Roku's suspicions and confusion were not easy abated. As he demanded to know why this person was standing in his kitchen, the man identified himself as Jim and told Roku that a "Mr Six" had hired him though a pair of curious lawyers. After asking a few more questions, Roku theorized that the gentlemen's gentleman had been contracted under the collection of chaos gods who he had encountered the previous day. Roku was very annoyed at once again having his private life interrupted. This annoyance was actually the raccoon's false impression of what it was like to live as a human. He thought that life was easier somehow, that your life was not constantly pulled in multiple directions by employers, friends, family, and the various demands of necessity. Your very sanity was either reduced to a cinder or you learned a certain level of indifference. This was why men had butlers. Unable to grasp this, however, Roku was about to toss this intrusion into the street when Jim, who had already set about making his new master a proper breakfast, presented a picture of the divine. Thus Roku was not won over by logic, passion or pathos. He was won over by a plate of sausages and well done eggs.

Swanky Gents

Across the cobbled lanes and broad streets Ed had just reached the Swanky Gent, a club which catered to the more lavish lives of the middle class. The home was foreclosed by the banks years ago, sitting empty for the better part of 3 years. A enterprising company purchased the building, renovated it, and opened for business as a private dinner club for those willing to pay the monthly fees. The name, along with the experience provided by the club, was all about the latest in fashion and trends. Bronze fixtures, dark wood paneling, rich gold and burgundy carpets, and black curtains. The club was a mixture of tasteful décor and partitions to give every member a private experience. The guilded exterior of the house was maintained by the proprietors to give the air of superior standards while catering to the fast and frivolous within. 

This was why Ed, a low bred orc in shabby clothing, had very low chances of ever getting in through the vigilant doorman at the front. So Ed used the back door. Supplying the boy in the alley a few shillings, and entered the kitchen. Though he was no less strange in this place of pressed napkins and polished cutlery, Ed managed to get to the stairs before a waiter blocked his path. Using a combination of his size, tenacity and the ability to bull his way into any room, Ed soon found himself being escorted to the table of the man he hoped would have answers for him regarding the murder of the young courier.

Born Israel Cobb, the man known as Roald on the streets of Newhaven was a man who had distinguished himself as a powerbroker in the underworld. Muscle was money, and people were willing to pay top dollar for his ability to find the right person for the right job. He had fingers in all the pies, controlling gangs, factory workers, labor unions, prisons, beat cops, informants; there was very little in the town of Newhaven Roald did not have knowledge. He largely controlled the smuggling rings bringing exotic goods into the city.

But Roald was also clever. He ran his various interests as a business. Loyalty and trust were key. And he always had someone to take the fall if the caper went sideways. The Applegate Scandal, the Two-Penny Bag and the Labor Riots of '46 were all his handiwork. But nobody could prove Roald had any part in the crimes, though everyone on the street knew Roald was not a man to be dismissed. He could be your friend or have you vanish without a trace.

Ed had not known about Roald before now. Roald had a sizeable bounty on his head for some time for information regarding this man and his activities if it led to a arrest. The problem was that nobody bothered to post it since he was practically untouchable. So Ed approached the man seated by himself with a cup of tea in front of him, dressed in fine clothing and ornate cane. Ed was seated and asked, as forthcoming a gentleman as he was, asked if Roald knew anything about the young courier who had been murdered. Roald smiled, made a apology that he knew very little and began placing several royal pounds on the table. Ed was not smart. But he knew enough of the world to know when to accept financial compensation for his silence. Ed realized what a opportunity this was and even told Roald about his interaction with Leigh McNab, the package, and how the boy was running something for him; he left out any other details regarding his friends. Roald turned this over in his mind, sizing up the orc sitting in front of him. Roald decided, and subtly conveyed his desire to see Leigh McNab removed from the...menu. I must convey my inability to understand metaphors. I think Roald wanted Ed to kill McNab. Or he wanted shephards pie removed from the universe's menu.

Ed took the money. To most this would have been the simple answer. But money was not the ultimate answer. As altruistic as Ed may have seemed given his positive disposition, removing a criminal from the city was a simple decision. The means were perhaps not as important as the result. Ed was not above bending the rules, especially when it meant achieving something ultimately good. This was why Ed made his way to the Guilded Row to visit one of his friends, a inventor known as Thomas Thompson. It was here he bumped into Thomas while he was entertaining a female acquaintence. 

Ed did not know the estimable Mashell Faraday. Otherwise, he might have been impressed beyond his mere impression that somehow Thomas had the ability to woo a lady. Thomas, of course was preoccupied with his guest to give much thought to Ed's request for the address of Roku. Thomas, wanting to get back to entertaining Mashell, gave over the address without much thought and thought nothing of it until later when he was calculating a veriable in the negative and positve outputs would need to maintain a greater volume then what was required by the output in order to generate enough energy so as to not create...an outage? Yes. that was a good word, he decided, and forgot all about Ed and Roku. (It should be noted that Thomas was finding his labratory filled with a beautiful scent which he thought must be a delightful perfume Mashell was wearing.)

The Smoking Gun

There is a particular time when men require nothing but quite, a comfortable chair and a pipe. At least, this is what Roku thought. Attempting to smoke through the metallic face plate of a prosthetic suit proved less difficult if you accepted the limitations and enjoyed a smoking room experience where the walls are burlap and metal.

As the raccoons were thoroughly engulfed in a haze of tobacco smoke, Jim, the recently aquired butler, entered announcing a guest. Momentarily detached from his sweet reveries, Roku inquired who it was; a man named Mr Ed. Admitted into the private time of a up and coming gentleman, Ed got straight to the point. Give back the cane he stole immediately and then supply him with a hand held explosive device. There is a reaction common among all rodants (of the four-legged and two-legged variety) when cornered in which they revert to a basic survival instinct. Roku tried to act offended, denying the implications. To say the various parts of himself were also conflicted would be an understatement. Ed had shown that he was not altogether altruistic in light of recent events. But no man, however twisted or debased, likes having another tell a bold lie to his face. Ed was a straight shooter and like others to do the same. So Ed did what most men do when they realize the object of their frustration has ceased operate as desired; he hit it on the head. 

There is a small benefit. to have multiple brains all functioning in a small space, working together towards a common goal. One of those is that while the more mentally advanced is wise-cracking the other can be waiting for a chance to slap a fellow across the face. That is exactly what Ralph did, taking a roundhouse punch to Ed's stubborn jaw. Ed drew out his pepperbox, moving in close as Lefty managed to activate the pistol brace on his right arm. But Ed was quicker, pinning the pistol arm behind Roku's head and pressing the muzzles of his pepperbox to the smiling hat where a person's head should normally be. Thomas Thompson would have enjoyed watching the physics of two immovable forces attempting to break the other down. But alas, as guns, blasted and fists swung, the only result was a few new holes in the upholstery and walls.

This activity brought Jim into the private chambers of his master, frying pan in hand. Roku instructed his servant to assault the invader, which resulted in Jim taking a bullet to the foot. Round and round they went, each unable to get the advantage over the other, until Jim, in pain and realizing someone could get killed, managed to calm the situation and reason with the two men to lower their weapons. Ed, seeing the frivilousness of this situation, tried one last time to appeal to Roku to hand over the cane and perhaps gain some money with the explosive device, found Roku unrelenting. Using a excuse to get rags from the washroom to mend his bleeding foot, Jim even tried to reason with his master, but Roku, stubborn as he was, thought better of it and exited through the window until Ed left. Jim apologized, but loyal as he was, covered for his master and attempted to defend his honor. This further annoyed Ed, who left, determined to find a another way to fulfill his contracts.

They grinned from the shadows, their ears ringing and the delightful smell of iron wills battling over trivial agendas. Delightful. They inhaled the chaos and revelled in the sweet euphoria. Three hands simultaneously pulled out the matching devices, the bronze pendulums shifting ever closer to the side of total anarchy.

Violet or Royal Blue

Lindion was enjoying her morning tea, content in her newspaper as the only quiet part of her day. She had just finished her morning comic, a especially enjoyable cliffhanger in which the hero was in the throws of quicksand, a giant python and a hoard of naked tribal cannabals attempting to secure the hero for their next feast. 

Stacy, the mysterious maid

The clicking of shoes on the floor broke in upon her vivid imaginations of the scene in which John Flemming was fighting for his life. Mentally she noted it was not yet time for Philip to bring her journal. It was why she found, to her immeasurable surprise, Stacy, the deaf maid, standing in front of her with two dresses. Lillian, the housekeeper's daughter, was her personal maid and saw to Lindion's wardrobe, daily toilet and helping her get dressed each day. This was strange to have Stacy bringing down her daily outfits. She had selected a dark blue gown and violet gown. Just then Philip appeared carrying the daily journal. He turned crimson for the exact reasons he was a butler. Decorum. People doing exactly what they were supposed to do when they were supposed to do it; this was the bread and butter of a butler's life. Anything getting out of place ruined the whole flow of the house. Even as stace retreated with the violet dress for the party that afternoon, Philip was ready to storm after her and lecture her on the proper operation of a maid and the role she played in this house. Lindion found it amusing. She consulted her journal and found the party listed there for later that afternoon. Dismissing Philip to perform his duties, which he was eager to perform, left Lindion to think about the afternoon luncheon.

Crest of House Belabrante

The luncheon was to take place at the Belabrante Estate. House Belabrante was one of the oldest families who could trace their lineage all the way back to before the Great Devastation. They were known as famous hunters, animal trainers and breeders of the highest regard across Faerun. They maintained their fortune by hunting the fabled griffons for the Royal Order of the Forever Empress. The sponsored safaris, hunts in the wild and exploration of lands tainted by the Maleficium. Notable members of the family were Arthur, the eldest son and face of the family business. Following him was Julian, the recluse who managed the ledgers and used his brilliant mind to make the family richer with each passing year. Ginny, his younger sister had never lived a day in the shadows of her two elder brothers. nicknamed the firebrand, the redhaired tomboy had always prefered to ride and train the beasts they captured over wearing fancy dresses and attending parties. Her defiance of the standards of high society and preference for men's trousers has been amusing scandal for years. The youngest daughter, Mary, is the picture of gentility and enjoys all the advantages his station affords her. A darling to all who see her, she is engaged to some new sop every week just so she can break hearts and fall in love the next week to someone totally new. She basks in the limelight of high society, spending the family fortune on luxuries and priviledges as quickly as the others sweep a new fortune into the family coffers.

Beside the colorful family rumors and gossip, the parties the Belabrante's hosted always attracted the most renowned and famous of the aristocracy in Newhaven and abroad. Invitations were personal and engagements intimate. To be invited, much less attend a function such as this was a high honor and pride of any noble house. 

Lindion prepared for her day, aided in part by Stacy who seemed eager to assist her mistress today in preparing for the party. Lindion then set out for her appointment, enjoying the cool day as she rode in her carraige to the wrought iron walls of the old estate. Fashionably late, Lindion descended from her carraige, eager to mingle with her peers. But it was this particular luncheon that Lindion would find herself conflicted at the meeting of a someone who was also interested in the welfare of a particular young ward...