The following people have permission to post here: Myself, the WPLs, and anyone else that I or GigaGuess give permission to.
Anyone who posts in here who doesn’t have permission will be disparaged, disrespected, discombobulated, disarmed, disenfranchised, discredited, diseased, disfigured, disemboweled, dismembered, dissolved, and defenestrated. And if I’m in a bad mood, it’ll be in that order. Whatever remains will be given to Emrakul to snuggle.
14 Hours after the death of Tilia de'Thalan
Outside one of the Churches of Orzhova, a sprawling marketplace celebrates the sea of commerce. The constant flow of money forms a beautiful kind of dance that can hypnotize those who can understand its patterns and nuances.
On this day, however, a tiny eddy floats through this churning river, catching up the odd coin and keeping it.
Jeremy works his way through the crowd, the joviality of his demeanor belying the cunning mind that works beneath. He'd already snagged 4 coin purses, one from a rather high-ranking Simic gentleman who will be rather upset that his four eyes didn't catch him. As he travels, his mind keeps an opening for any spare thought that might prove valuable if exploited, or removed.
This was sufficiently unusual that Jeremy paused for a moment. Just a moment. Staying in character, he said in his best 'young rascal' voice, "Me, sir?"
Jeremy came skipping over. Internally, he was extremely wary. He let his mind web brush against the man's for a moment, trying to catch his surface thoughts.
Jeremy crumpled up the paper, and popped it in his mouth, then began to eagerly eat the pie. The eagerness of his actions was a stark contrast to the gaping pit that just opened in the bottom of his stomach.
"Pandora." A massive security breach. And since he'd been notified, it must mean that his cover has been blown. Jeremy thought for a moment about who had blown it, but he set that aside for now. It didn't matter at this time. Right now, he had to survive. But "Dimwell?" Why Dimwell? It was far from the closest entrance! It was down by the docks!
As he finished off his pie, he realized that they were probably going to close that entrance after he got through it. If he got through it.
Well, he thought, good thing I'm not going to do this on an empty stomach.
He started to make his way across the market square, towards the southwest exit.
Jeremy's senses perked into high gear. He sees a number of people in the crowd who just seem to stand out for some reason. And then a sinking realization hits him...Consortium Agents.
He focuses his mind towards the agents, and starts to make his way as fast as possible towards the marketplace's exit. He did his best to not let the panic show on his face.
Mercifully, he seemed to notice the agents before they caught sight of him. He makes his way to the exit unhindered, however, the pit in his stomach deepens as he hears the pie-maker in the distance. "Yeah, I think I saw the lad...he was just over..." The voice trailed off in thought.
Jeremy glanced both ways down the street, and started to walk south as non-chalantly as he could. Inside his mind was racing as fast as his heart was as he tried to focus on every detail.
Anyone who posts in here who doesn’t have permission will be disparaged, disrespected, discombobulated, disarmed, disenfranchised, discredited, diseased, disfigured, disemboweled, dismembered, dissolved, and defenestrated. And if I’m in a bad mood, it’ll be in that order. Whatever remains will be given to Emrakul to snuggle.
14 Hours after the death of Tilia de'Thalan
Outside one of the Churches of Orzhova, a sprawling marketplace celebrates the sea of commerce. The constant flow of money forms a beautiful kind of dance that can hypnotize those who can understand its patterns and nuances.
On this day, however, a tiny eddy floats through this churning river, catching up the odd coin and keeping it.
Jeremy works his way through the crowd, the joviality of his demeanor belying the cunning mind that works beneath. He'd already snagged 4 coin purses, one from a rather high-ranking Simic gentleman who will be rather upset that his four eyes didn't catch him. As he travels, his mind keeps an opening for any spare thought that might prove valuable if exploited, or removed.
The creator of Maro's Magic 8-Ball!
The creator of Maro's Magic 8-Ball!
The creator of Maro's Magic 8-Ball!
The creator of Maro's Magic 8-Ball!
This was, of course, a lie, but that was his stock in trade.
The creator of Maro's Magic 8-Ball!
Once he gets a decent distance away, he ducks into an alley, and starts to fish around in the pie for anything suspicious.
The creator of Maro's Magic 8-Ball!
The creator of Maro's Magic 8-Ball!
"Pandora." A massive security breach. And since he'd been notified, it must mean that his cover has been blown. Jeremy thought for a moment about who had blown it, but he set that aside for now. It didn't matter at this time. Right now, he had to survive. But "Dimwell?" Why Dimwell? It was far from the closest entrance! It was down by the docks!
As he finished off his pie, he realized that they were probably going to close that entrance after he got through it. If he got through it.
Well, he thought, good thing I'm not going to do this on an empty stomach.
He started to make his way across the market square, towards the southwest exit.
The creator of Maro's Magic 8-Ball!
Jeremy's senses perked into high gear. He sees a number of people in the crowd who just seem to stand out for some reason. And then a sinking realization hits him...Consortium Agents.
The creator of Maro's Magic 8-Ball!
He focuses his mind towards the agents, and starts to make his way as fast as possible towards the marketplace's exit. He did his best to not let the panic show on his face.
The creator of Maro's Magic 8-Ball!
Immediately, Jeremy changed direction, going for the closest alley on the east side.
The creator of Maro's Magic 8-Ball!
The creator of Maro's Magic 8-Ball!