Sime~Gen Roleplaying on IRC: Snake River Dam Scenario
Episode #1: Still, it Could be Worse (5/15/00)
Scarabald makes his way through the woods, towards a secluded hollow.
Scarabald is not surprised when he goes between a certain pair of insulating boulders and suddenly see, hears, and zlins the noise of inebriated partying.
Scarabald is carrying a large crate on his shoulder.
Scarabald makes his way down the path, to where a splinter-filled plank rests on six cinder blocks.
Scarabald sets his burden down in front of the bar and sits down on it.
Carbonne lifts his canteen to take another swig of porstan, only to find that it's empty.
Scarabald waits for the bartender to get around to him.
Scarabald looks like he'd be good at waiting, in his faded clerk's clothes.
Carbonne stares blearily into the hole, and then shakes the canteen.
Scarabald's nondescript appearance has stood him in good stead in his chosen professions--the legit and less so.
Carbonne gets to his feet and stumbles over to the barrel to refill it; he is not above sampling the merchandise just so that he can attest to its quality.
Carbonne stares around the impromptu establishment to see if anyone else wants another round.
Carbonne spots the new arrival.
Carbonne: [to Scarabald] Hey! You there!
Mardith is thinking this will be a better night than she had hoped.
Carbonne: Whadda'ya want!
Scarabald looks at Carbonne, and raises an eyebrow.
Scarabald: Nothin' just yet.
Carbonne: Beer is one credit, porstan is two.
Carbonne: Wine is three credits a cup, five for a bottle.
Carbonne looks to Mardith to be sure he got this right.
Mardith, sitting a stump watching, nods.
Carbonne: An ya can't just sit there takin' up the room.
Carbonne: If ya gonna sit in the bar, ya gotta get something.
Carbonne: Otherwise get out.
Scarabald ignores Carbonne and looks at Mardith.
Scarabald: I got part of your order.
Scarabald: The rest'll be a bit more difficult.
Scarabald pats his improvised crate.
Mardith: How difficult?
Scarabald: It'll be at least another week or two. Maybe more. And it'll cost ya.
Mardith would rather not have the patrons coming after her with blunt objects because they can't get what they want.
Scarabald: Copper ain't cheap, and the boss pays attention to the supply.
Mardith: We already agreed on a price.
Scarabald: My prices go up, so do yours.
Carbonne observes that the boss seems okay with this new arrival and his bouncer functions do not seem to be required--yet.
Scarabald: If you don't like it, find another supplier.
Scarabald knows that his goods are lots cheaper than most of the black market, since his operation doesn't have to pay transportation costs.
Scarabald: Look Mardith, you're a good customer.
Scarabald: I already cut you a lot of breaks.
Mardith weighs her options. There aren't any.
Carbonne listens to them argue, thinking yak-yak-yak.
Mardith: I know that. This isn't exactly a thriving business yet.
Mardith: I am having trouble meeting the original price.
Carbonne has heard more talking in three days on this job than in his last three years as a coal miner.
Scarabald: Mebbe you could put off the extra still for another month or so?
Scarabald: Plain porstan don't have as much of a profit margin, but you can make it cheap.
Scarabald: And it's all most of 'em can afford, anyway.
Mardith: I'm already brewing as much as that old heap can make.
Carbonne thinks that the porstan works pretty good to blur worst of the assault on his ears.
Mardith: I wanted the brandy for a change of taste.
Mardith wonders if she can get Bolard down in the valley to make her some more porstan.
Carbonne takes another swig from the canteen, and surveys the customers.
Carbonne notices that Doris has upset her mug on the table.
Carbonne takes a wash rag and goes to mop up the mess.
Mardith: Look just see what you can do at the regular price and I will take care of that other matter for you.
Scarabald considers.
Scarabald: I might be able to do something at the regular price, but it'd take time.
Carbonne swabs the table and dabs at Doris' head which was lying in the puddle.
Doris rouses slightly when her head is pulled up by the hair and rubbed with a dirty rag.
Scarabald: And I'd have to enlist some of the work crews to get a bit "creative" with their usage figures.
Doris: Huhmm... Hieksl?
Scarabald: How about a porstan on the house for all of them?
Scarabald: And a bottle of your best when you get the still working?
Carbonne: Hey, Doris, want another round?
Mardith: How many are we talking about?
Doris: Uhmm's. Dohrer. Skeur, oksjes?
Mardith is thinking of her profit margin.
Carbonne takes this mystic utterance as a yes.
Scarabald considers.
Scarabald: Four, probably. If you want it in a reasonable time.
Scarabald: It'd have to be the entire work crew on the task, you see.
Carbonne refills Doris' mug with porstan.
Scarabald: Otherwise, someone would rat.
Scarabald is sure that Mardith appreciates the difficulties that would cause.
Mardith: I can live with that. Just them no buddies.
Carbonne fishes the money out of the semi-conscious Doris' pocket.
Scarabald nods.
Scarabald: I'll make that clear.
Mardith: I am grateful for your help.
Mardith: Sit down and have one on the house.
Carbonne sidles around back to the barrel of porstan.
Scarabald: Don't mind if I do.
Carbonne fills a mug with porstan and hands it to Scarabald.
Scarabald is all for good customer relations, but of course has no intention of mimicking Doris's excesses--particularly when he has yet to be paid for his current shipment.
Scarabald nods thanks as he snares the mug with one tentacle.
Scarabald: A new one?
Mardith: Yes.
Scarabald: Reliable?
Mardith goes to the cash box to get the payment for the partial order.
Scarabald walks a delicate balance between having to be known and having to work in secret--at least in the eyes of the authorities.
Mardith: I don't let him count the money. But so far so good.
Carbonne rather resents being talked about as if he were a tree stump or something similarly insensible.
Scarabald raises his eyebrow at Carbonne's response.
Scarabald: You got a problem with your job?
Mardith shrugs.
Scarabald is at least addressing Carbonne directly.
Carbonne, however, is used to being mistaken for an inanimate object.
Carbonne: Not yet.
Scarabald: Good.
Mardith smiles at the two.
Scarabald gets up and pulls the lid off of his crate, augmenting slightly.
Carbonne thinks who is this high-handed character who comes waltzing in and gets the boss lady all upset.
Scarabald: There.
Scarabald starts putting neat little bags on the bartop.
Mardith counting as she goes.
Carbonne observes the transaction with interest.
Scarabald: A dozen batch's worth of hops, half a bag of barley ready to malt, four fermentation locks, and....
Scarabald pulls the last item out with a flourish.
Scarabald: A genuine topping wand. Should cut down on the bits of husk floating around in your product.
Mardith: You got it!
Mardith has been waiting for a month.
Mardith: I knew I liked you. That deserves another one.
Scarabald: Yeah. There's also six new kegs on the way, but they're still packed with supplies for the main mess hall.
Scarabald has contacts who get rather creative with packaging.
Mardith: Carbonne, give that man anything he wants!
Carbonne peers at the odd items on the table.
Scarabald: You send your man there by at the end of the week, and they'll be ready.
Mardith: I will.
Carbonne has been hoping to get a good look at the still, but Mardith doesn't trust him that much yet.
Scarabald: It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mardith.
Scarabald lifts his mug in toast.
Carbonne drags his attention back to his work.
Mardith: Same here.
Carbonne refills Scarabald's mug again.
Scarabald looks around at the improvised tavern.
Mardith: Get me some of the good stuff and I'll do better by you.
Scarabald: Y'know, you'd maybe increase your profits with straight porstan, if you create the proper atmosphere.
Scarabald: Ever though of getting a shiltpron in here?
Mardith: Don't know anyone who can play worth a darn.
Mardith: Nothing worse than bad shiltpron and porstan.
Scarabald looks into his beer thoughtfully.
Scarabald: Can't argue with that.
Scarabald: Still, there's lots of newcomers around these days.
Scarabald: What say I put the word out that there might be employment for the right plunker?
Mardith: That would be appreciated.
Mardith: They have to at least be able to play a tune all the way through.
Scarabald: I'll keep that in mind.
Carbonne eavesdrops shamelessly; after three days in a social situation, he is starting to recall certain skills he hasn't used since childhood.
Scarabald: And until I find someone--ever thought of having a Gen play?
Scarabald: I know one that can toot a whistle a bit.
Scarabald: Not a shiltpron, but it ain't bad to zlin, either, if ya know what I mean.
Mardith: This place isn't much but I don't want this place busted up while I'm trying to keep the customers off of the musical talent.
Carbonne tries to think if he knows any "plunkers" but his miner friends are all pretty deaf; occupational hazard.
Scarabald zlins said customers thoughtfully.
Scarabald: Yeah.
Scarabald: Hey, have you heard the latest?
Mardith: What?
Scarabald knows that passing on the latest gossip is part of his business.
Scarabald: Word is that the Tecton is sending in a couple of heavies.
Mardith: Who?
Scarabald frowns.
Scarabald: There's two stories makin' the rounds.
Scarabald: One has it that it's a Farris channel that used to run a District in Capitol.
Scarabald: Me, I can't see them wasting that kind of talent here, can you?
Mardith: Farris? Up here?
Carbonne has never even seen a Farris channel.
Mardith laughs.
Scarabald: Yeah.
Mardith: I wouldn't think a Farris could actually stand to be around us working class types.
Scarabald: Yeah. And get this: the one they're supposed to be sending is the last Audnes in the direct line.
Mardith: Not that brat the last one of the line?
Scarabald: That's the story. The one they took out of New Othwol 'cause he was puttin' his tentacles where they shouldn't go.
Carbonne has heard of the Audnes; they used to own most of the Territory.
Mardith: I sure as shen hope you are wrong.
Carbonne thinks he knows some old-timers in the hills who would be real interested in this news.
Scarabald: Yeah. If it's the Audnes, he's rumored to be a real stickler.
Scarabald zlins momentarily ~~ glum ~~ at the thought.
Scarabald: Only one game in town, and it's his, if ya understand.
Mardith: That bunch could smell money under six tons of rock. I can't see that being good for business.
Scarabald: Yeah.
Mardith sit back down on her stump and worries a bit.
Scarabald is not unaware that his business is far more vulnerable to Audnes action than Mardith's.
Mardith: You said two. Who else?
Scarabald: The other story I've heard is a lot wilder.
Mardith: Give!
Scarabald: That one goes that they're sendin' us a former rogue.
Mardith: Former rogue?
Scarabald: And from the descriptions, they didn't do too well on the rehab.
Mardith: That might be a lot better for business.
Mardith is now a bit hopeful.
Scarabald: Might be. Might not, too.
Scarabald: I don't want nobody horning in on my profits.
Mardith wonders what could be worse than an Audnes.
Scarabald: An Audnes--well, there's always the chance that he'd fail to zlin what's under his nose, if you understand what I mean.
Scarabald: A rogue, now, would know all the tricks, and be more likely to spot what shouldn't be spotted.
Scarabald: If you understand what I mean.
Mardith: Or try to get a piece of the action.
Scarabald: Yeah. And while I like to think I'm a friendly guy, there are limits.
Scarabald: If you understand what I mean.
Mardith: I do indeed.
Carbonne: But this Audnes, Farris, whatever.... Would he come here to run things? Or just, you know-- channel?
Scarabald thinks it over.
Scarabald: I dunno.
Scarabald: Farrises don't usually concern themselves with commoners like us, now, do they?
Carbonne: But there's no one but commoners hereabouts.
Mardith thinks another definition for channel is zlins where they shouldn't.
Scarabald: There is that.
Carbonne: That channel in Palisades--Klyzer--he don't leave the clinic.
Scarabald worries some more.
Scarabald: Yeah. Not even when there's been an accident.
Scarabald: ~~ sour ~~
Carbonne: You really think they would send us a First?
Mardith: What would a First do up here anyway?
Carbonne can definitely zlin some advantages to such an arrangement.
Scarabald: I dunno. Maybe if he did something wrong, and they wanted to get him away from the spotlight?
Carbonne: Like the rogue?
Mardith: Oh death, that is all we want, an out of favor First with nothing on his mind but proving how useful he is.
Scarabald: Don't worry; they'd never let a First serve the likes of you and me.
Carbonne has to agree with Scarabald's assessment, but it's a nice daydream.
Mardith: Do you really want a First to get a good zlin of you?
Scarabald: It's the Thirds for you and me.
Mardith: I like that just fine!
Carbonne is used to making the best of things, and has to agree that serving porstan is better than digging coal.
Carbonne is prompted to serve himself another round to celebrate his change of careers.
Mardith: I don't know which would be worse but either way we are in for it.
Scarabald: Well, there's always the possibility that the Audnes would get a zlin of the construction and faint. Or that the rogue would decide to skip out.
Mardith wonders if she could move any further back into the woods with out losing her customers.
Mardith: We live in hope!
Scarabald smiles sourly.
Scarabald: I suppose. Although selyn helps, now and then.
Carbonne: Only First I ever met was Edgar's kid.
Scarabald: Edgar?
Carbonne: Only he was a kid, you know. Then he turned Gen.
Carbonne: And they took him away.
Carbonne: Never came back.
Scarabald: I'm not surprised.
Scarabald: What's here to tempt a First?
Scarabald: They got a good life, lording it over the big Centers.
Scarabald: What they need to come out and wallow in mud for?
Mardith: They'll probably be too sick to pay much attention anyway with all pollen in the air.
Scarabald brightens.
Mardith is glad for once that trees make dust.
Scarabald: Yeah. Once the trees bloom, that'll be the last we'll see of any Farris.
Carbonne wonders how a Farris would make out in a coal mine?
Mardith: What will you do if the rumors are true?
Scarabald: Lay low for a week or two, just in case.
Scarabald: Till I zlin the nager of the Gen, if you get what I mean.
Mardith: I got it. But when is this First supposed to arrive?
Scarabald: Not for a bit yet, I'd think. Or we'd know for certain.
Scarabald: But still, if you got anything special you want, better get your order in early.
Carbonne reflects that it's probably just as well he is not yet immersed in the smuggling end of the business.
Mardith: Well, double my standing order and get me what's back-ordered and maybe something special....
Scarabald: Like what?
Mardith: Can you get a couple bottles of red wine?
Scarabald: You got customers what drink wine now?
Mardith: That is for me.
Carbonne decides that if a First of any description shows up within a hundred miles, he'll be first in line for his transfer.
Mardith: If things start going badly I may just drink them both.
Scarabald: For you, Mardith, I'll make the effort.
Mardith: You are a true friend Scarabald!
Carbonne thinks drinking is fun, but life has its priorities.
Scarabald: Kitchen wants more sauces--should be able to ship it with that.
Mardith: Good. Let me know as soon as you can.
Mardith looks around at her customers and wonders how much longer she will be able to make a living at this.
Carbonne fills a pitcher with porstan and once more makes the rounds.
Mardith thinks "I could always go back to being a miner" and shudders violently.
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