The shopkeeper watches Tobias's first round and says, I have to admit I am impressed. I guess the puny power makes it easier to handle. Watch how it's done!

Despite his talk, the shopkeeper's gun overpowers him slightly, and he takes 2 tries to hit the 30- and 100-ft targets.

Round 1: Tobias 100/100, Shop Owner 80/100

The shopkeeper clicks the stopwatch at Tobias's tenth hit in Round 2. 99 seconds. Not too bad. The Taurus may be limited by only having 5 rounds, but the wonders of modern technology have given me this. He holds up a fully-loaded speed loader and grins.

The shopkeeper takes his time with each shot, knowing that the added speed of reloading and increased accuracy will make up the time. He finishes a full 30 seconds faster than Tobias.

Round 2: Tobias 158/200, Shop Owner 168/200

The weapons merchant laughs so hard at Tobias's attempt to destroy the cinder block that he can't see the stop watch through his tears. Once he gets control of himself and reads off the time (87 seconds) he starts laughing all over again. After a few minutes he regains control again and says Step aside, young man, and I'll show you how it's done.

Despite his bravado, it still takes the shopkeeper 8 shots to destroy the cinder block. He sobers up a bit when he realizes that even his giant gun wasn't good enough to score any points in the third round.

Round 3: Tobias 159/300, Shop Owner 168/300

Well young man, looks like you bought yourself a new gun! I know you will just love it!

I upped the penalty in round 1 to 10 points for every miss, and adjusted round 2 and 3 so that a perfect score was 100. It didn't end up mattering for the final score, but my engineery mind likes it much better this way.

[Private to Tobias Byrne: You are the proud owner of a shiny new Taurus Ragin Bull (only fired today)! 2d8 damage, 5 cyl, 30ft range, semi-auto, medium size. It comes with a speed loader, a case, and 40 rounds of .454 ammo. And he gave you a deal, only $1000! (DC 17). The ammo for your other weapon is twice what it normally costs, making it a DC 9.]

Tobias reluctantly hands over the cash, and the shop owner more than willingly hands over the goods. It's all he can do to to keep from grinning ear to ear.

---

Some time in the afternoon, Friday, February 10, 2012

Tobias and Frank pass out in the hotel and when they wake up it is sometime in the mid-afternoon. The hotel they chose clearly caters to jet-laggers: the advertisement card placed on top of their TV advertises breakfast served all day in the lobby.

The weather outside is somewhat brisk with the constant sea breezes, but when the sun peaks out of the clouds one almost might call it warm.

Frank changed into a fresh pair of well-worn jeans and pulled a plain grey tee-shirt over his head. He took his concealable holster out of his suitcase. It was the same one he used for his Five-seveN, but it was also pretty much 'one size fits all'. He'd left the weapon purchased from the dealer inside the drawer of his side-table and he took it out and slid it into place in the holster before fishing out a lightweight three-quarter length jacket and pulling it on.


"Looks like they're still serving breakfast downstairs," he said, smiling. "I know that's what I feel like right now; something big that Diane wouldn't approve of... While the cat's away, right, Toby?"

Toby was cleaning, oiling, getting to know his new gun.

He didn't like it. Mainly because it had gone and beaten his old reliable, and using it felt like betraying his pistol. Still, it was slightly more effective than his regular weapon (against non-evil bricks), so he supposed that if he had it...

He glanced up from the room's desk and nodded. flicking the chamber shut, he gazed longingly at the belt with the holster for his weapons. He didn't think that would be a good idea. He sighed longingly and nodded. "I'm not sure we should be comparing ourselves to mice, Frank," he replied with a smile, stuffing the revolved into his pants.

"I feel like a bloody gangster..."

The breakfast spread is simple, but elegant: toast with honey, marmalade, and butter; fresh watermelon with feta; tyropitakia (bite-sized egg-and-cheese filled pastry); spanakopita (spinach-filled pastry); bougatsa (custard-filled pastry); and of course, plenty of strong coffee, juice, and milk.

"Gonna be difficult to carry concealed," replied Frank. "That's for sure. Still, better to be armed than not."

The breakfast was delicious, Frank wolfed his down; he hadn't eaten much since leaving home, he couldn't stand airline food.

As he finished, he pushed his plate to one side and took a long drink from his mug of coffee.

"So, do we go straight to Diyamba's party?" he asked Toby. "I don't remember there being a time on the invitation. Maybe we should head out there quietly tonight, see if we can get a better read on who's got our number?"

Toby ate equally quickly, sitting across from his partner at the lobby. He nodded, then shrugged, pondering. "Yeah, we could..." He made a wiggling gesture with his hand. "But I mean, we've faced things that could tell when we were around. If this party starts when we show up, regardless..." He shrugged again, "then I'd rather we be able to run the hell away in the day."

He hefted a few more pastries into his mouth. "We could ask around."

"Yeah, good point," agrees Frank, draining the last of his coffee. "Let's use the afternoon to see what we can dig up on this Diyamba. Ask some of the locals, see if they've heard about this party, see if they know anything about the address, too."

OOC:  Gather info about Diyamba - 34.
23:08, Today: Francis 'Frank' Decourcey rolled 34 using 1d20+14. Gather Info: Diyamba.

The locals are generally friendly, but their knowledge of English seems to diminish once they realize you aren't a tourist. Nonetheless, they talk to you enough to figure out that nobody has ever heard of anybody named Diyamba. Either he's the most secretive person on the island, or he simply doesn't exist.

You do realize one thing, however; as you pass on to the locals the directions given in your note, "Rock Street" is translated as "πέτρα αστικός (petra astikos)". It takes a while for you to realize why this is significant: back at the port where you first landed on the island, there were many signs pointing towards the road to the neighborhood "πέτρα (petra)".

Toby followed along, not knowing a lick of spoken Greek. He could write it. Hell, he could write novels, poems, epics... In Greek that hadn't been written in two thousand years.

He wracked his brains, trying to remember what significance Petra had. In the meantime he shrugged. "We might as well go and take a look?" He slapped his forehead as it came to him. "'You are Peter, and on this Petra I will build my church.' Jesus Christ, Punmaster."

"Come again?" asks Frank, clearly not following Toby's line of reasoning. "How does this link to this Diyamba, do you think?" He pauses. "More to the point, are we wrong about Diyamba entirely, is that name even a reference to a person? I mean, we've been assuming it's a person, because of the reference to 'a birthday party', but it could be a place, or an organisation, or something else entirely."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:05, Fri 13 July 2018.

"Huh?" Toby looked confused. Oh, he'd said that out loud... "Nothing, I was just musing on what petra meant. Sorry. And... you're right. It could be a cult, an organization, or a person. There's really no way to know until we look, I think."

"Though why they would name an entire neighborhood 'Stone' I'm not certain of." He looked around for one of the aforementioned signs. "Maybe we should do a little sightseeing, see if this points to a specific place?"

"Sure," replied Frank. "A little sightseeing before we lose the light. Until we know what we're dealing with, I think you're right that we'd best not risk confronting it in the dark."

He walked until they found a sign like the others and then started walking in the direction indicated by the sign, towards the neighbourhood called Petra.

"Keep an eye out for anyone hawking souvenirs, Toby. Diane didn't take my sudden decision to fly to Europe well, and I think I might need to bring back a peace offering, you know?"

As you travel down the road the old city quickly gives way to beautiful countryside. Off in the distance, and up on a big hill, you can see a cluster of ancient buildings that must be the neighborhood of Petra. The two lane road changes into a one-lane switchback road that winds its way up the hill. About halfway up, on the crest of one of the switchback turns, you see a huge luxurious villa on the left-hand side of the road. The villa is surrounded by a low fence, and the driveway is blocked by an electronic gate. Attached to the call button on the gate is a solitary red balloon, fluttering in the sea breeze.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:33, Wed 20 June 2012.

"Why do I get this feeling we're about to made an offer we can't refuse?" asked Frank as they caught a first look at the venue for Diyamba's party. "To be fair, the note did say we couldn't miss it, and not just because of the balloon on the gate..."

He stopped and looked up towards the villa before turning to Toby.

"So," he asked. "Do we keep going now, or do you want to head back to the hotel and come back tomorrow? I get the impression that it's gonna look much the same whenever we come here. To be honest, I think I just want to get on with this and find out what the hell they want with us."

Toby shrugged, and was tempted to burst the balloon. "No time like the present." He stepped towards the call button. "Maybe we'll get lucky, and we're on some benevolent being's short list of 'people we need to impress.'"

He pressed the call button, but didn't say anything. They were expected, after all.

After a few seconds, there is an electronic crackle, and a bored-sounding voice emits from the box: Yes?

You notice that there is no camera to give the owner of the voice a view of the gate.

"Uhm... You can't see us? Cool. That's a new one..." He cleared his throat and got back on track. "Right. We're here for the party."

Toby's answer was short and to the point. Having nothing further to add, Frank waited back a few steps, prepared for trouble, though to be honest he thought that if trouble was coming, it would come once they were inside the villa itself.

[Private to GM: Frank is carrying his weapons concealed. Based off the table on pg 95 of the Core Rulebook, and that my Sleight of Hand skill is +6, I figure the Spot DCs as follows:

Tokagypt (in concealed carry holster - rear of waistband) DC 18
Small (+0), in Concealed Carry Holster (+4), Weapon can be drawn normally (-2)

Metal Baton (collapsed - in pocket) DC 14
Small (+0), Weapon can be drawn normally (-2)]

There's a pause, then the gate swings open, revealing a paved driveway that winds up to the main house. As you travel up the path, you take in the breathtaking lawn: it is filled with exquisite gardens, marble statuary, and glimmering fountains. Were it found on the Italian countryside it would be hailed as an outstanding example of old world wealth; on the island of Patmos, however, the opulence almost comes off as gaudy.

Before you can reach the brass knocker on the door it opens, revealing a stuffy looking man in a tuxedo. He wordlessly ushers you inside where you find a grand foyer, set with intricate wood paneling. As he brings you to another part of the house you pass grand hallways and rooms filled with priceless artwork and sculpture. Tastefully placed around the home are pedestals, upon which sit artifacts from every culture and era. The man leads you to a set of double doors and says, Signore Milanesi will see you now.

As if on cue, a wild looking man bursts forth from the doors. He has long hair sticking straight out as if he were struck by lightning, thick, Coke bottle glasses, and he smokes a pipe which is barely visible underneath his huge, bushy mustache. In stark contrast to the man who lead you here, this man is is rather frumpy, wearing a bathrobe, sandals, and white socks pulled all the way up.

The man speaks in a deep Italian accent: Toby! Franky! How was-a the treeip? You find-a the place ok?

[Private to Francis 'Frank' Decourcey: Noted, thanks]
[Private to Tobias Byrne: You recognize the man as Bacco Milanese, the eccentric millionnaire who hired you for the job from which you recieved Posenti's Handgun. He's pretty much always been this mad.]

"Bacco." Toby said, in the tone that Frank would by now have associated with him being confronted with something too strange for surprise. "Bacco. You sent us that message? How are you?"

Frank wasn't surprised when the house turned out to be filled with priceless treasures. He wasn't surprised when their host appeared to be more than a bit of a kook. He wasn't even surprised when 'Signore Milanesi' knew their names. He was surprised, however, when Toby knew the name of their host. He turned slowly to look at his companion with an expression than conveyed his desire to be brought up to speed quickly.

"I take it you two are old acquaintances?" he asked. "I'd like to know how you knew about me, though, Signore Milanesi."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 19:06, Sun 24 June 2012.

Toby glanced over to Frank in a little bit of confusion. "I never told you this story? How have I never...?" He pulled his old revolver and showed it to him. "This used to be Bacco's. It was payment for a service I did finding one of his old family heirlooms. It was this, or... half the value of the recovered item, wasn't it?" He turned to the Italian for confirmation.

When Bacco speaks he never quite looks directly at you.

Oh yes. It'sa me! He holds out his arms to embrace, but gives up half-way through, as if he's forgotten what he was going to do.

I sent-a you the message. I've-a been-a following you career since you help-a me find my heirloom. You payment was quaranta per cento—eh, forty percento—I never make a even split. But I do not remember this very well. So now that-a you are here, do you want another job?
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:52, Mon 25 June 2012.

Toby re-holstered his pistol and crossed his arms, looking at the man. "And you couldn't have just called us over the phone?"