Active Plots (Alphabetical) - Updated 8/21/2010

Can't I Have Any Time? - (Eruantion Doriath [?], Amonost Doriath [?])

End of Solitude - (Verda Stelo [?])

No More Grape Soda - (Alex Dean [?], Samuel Jorgenson [?], Leon Mecheeto [?])

Questionable Means - (Tawny Black [?], Ishkan Ma'z)

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Tom Fender Member of SG&C Wandered the world like Caine from Kung-Fu and got into adventures Dominion Master 3/13/2008 10:00:10 PM Level: 18 Experience: 26800 Total Posts: 95

I Hate Perrenor John: I hate Perrenor. John and the rest of the gang had just teleported to the surface of Perrenor, unfortunately. The air, the air that had been breathed a hojillionpatootle times by disgusting beings and barely scrubbed over the last thousand years, smelled of methane and, when it didn't, it smelled of urine. Or maybe that's just what Chris thought. Either way, the place was nasty and they all hated it. Chris: So, where are we going, fearless leader? Tom had a crinkled piece of paper and, for the fiftieth time, jabbed his finger into it. Tom: An A&W on Gangta Drive. Tom snaps his fingers rapidly and points at a nearby homeboy. Tom: Word up, homes. Me an' ma crew is lookin' for Gangta Drive and we wuz wond'rin' if you'd be trippin' enough for to point us in the right direction so we's be bustin' a cramp in a buncha hobos for bling and weapons, yo. We out to drop in on 'em like gangbustaz, fo' realz. The man, who is of pale complexion and wearing a hair net and hardly his pants, looks at Tom as if he had a box of chop sticks stuck up his nose. He didn't, however, at this time, but it wouldn't be too out of the ordinary. For some reason, he decides to answer what he determined to be Tom's question. Homeboy: Yo, it's two blocks down that way. Now getcho face outta here, 'fore I busta cap. The young man hobbles off, grabbing his pants to insure they do not end up around his ankles and holding his free arm out stiffly as if his arm pit is filled with something nasty he doesn't want to get all over himself. Tom: Yo, this way, homies. Tom points and begins walking in the direction pointed out by the gangsta. Amazed, the others follow him. They soon find the A&W spoken of in the contract and enter it. It is rather tidy for being a Perrenorian establishment. The contract instructs them to make contact with a man named Bill. Tom walks over to the counter, behind which is a woman wearing an A&W hat. Tom: Hi, we're looking for a man named Bill. Woman: May I ask who you are? Tom: Sure. Silence. Woman: ... Who are you? Tom: I am Tom Fender, mercenary extraordinaire. These are my compadres. We're SG&C teamed with Fender Enterprises. We're here about the merc contract I take the whole neighborhood has issued. Just then, a balding man of small stature and later years sporting a pair of real tree camo shorts, jacket, and a baseball cap advertising hunting products walks out from the back room. Strapped to his side in extremely plain view is an 8-inch Smith and Wesson M629 .44 Magnum revolver. He juts his right hand out. Tom takes it and shakes vigorously. Bill: I'm Bill. You mercs come just in time. We're pretty sure the gang is planning its attack tomorrow afternoon. They sit down to discuss details which mainly consists of what calibers they like and if they hunt often. (Continued...)

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