Mission:A Quotidian Ragbag - Part One: Good Gumbo
Part One: Good Gumbo
Briefing
Character, we've got us a big ol' mess on our hands. The Carnival and Eltentown's 'Survivor Compound' used to be great allies. An' in the gumbo, you make all the allies that you can, believe you me. But something's... strained that alliance lately, an' the spirits say that we don't have much time to stitch it back together. See, the Compound's leader, the Monarch, he's gone a bit broken in the ol' brainpan.
Before the crazy got in him, the Monarch was a good man and a strong leader. But then he started thinkin' some of my peoples in the Carnival kidnapped his daughter. Problem is, well, the Monarch doesn't have a daughter. He never has. But this didn't stop his mad-thinkin' from issuin' out an order to start arresting us Carnies. An' to make a threadbare rug even more of an eyesore, a few Carnival troupers surrendered to him, acceptin' the charges...an ol' Mistress Nadia here, she has no idea why. Listen clearly, Character, there's others in the Carnival that just want to steamroll the Compound, bringin' war where I think finesse would fare us better right now. But I can only hold my more blood-minded brothers and sisters at bay for so long.
I need someone to convince the Monarch of the Compound to let my Carnival friends out of the stockade. That would be you, girl. Speak to Cheshire, the Gatekeeper, to get things moving.
- I'm on it.
The loas are watching you, child. Try not to upset them too much.
Unnecessary Solicitation
Character, what's wrong with you, child? Speak to the Gatekeeper, y'hear? I need my peoples out of that prison, quick-like.
Talk to Cheshire, the Survivor Compound's Gatekeeper
Mission Objective(s)
- Talk to Cheshire, the Survivor Compound's Gatekeeper
Eckery, ackery, welcome to the gumbo, stranger.
Otherwheres called First Ward, but mainly out of tradition, and who really needs that idea anymore out here?
You're specifically at the Compound, but that's a rather boring moniker, and some of us refer to it as the 'Last Word' but I can see it's already getting confusing even before it really starts.
Anyhoo, are you here to rescue the Monarch's daughter or to see the clowns?
- Tell me about the Compound. (optional)
- Land o' tea leaves, home o' the knaves, that's us. The Compound's just another motley pot of the exiled, the disenfranchised, and the disappeared here in First Ward. And since First Ward is New Praetoria's dirty little secret, I guess that makes us the things you read on the bathroom wall.
- I don't know anything about the Monarch's daughter. (optional)
or
- What's going on with the Monarch's 'daughter'? (optional)
- Ha! Who knows? She's imaginary! Well, except to the Monarch, but that's beside the point.
- Hmm, actually I guess it is the point. Or a point. Things are a bit slanted and enchanted out here at the moment. Forget I brought the whole thing up.
- I'm here for the captive Carnival troupers.
- Yeah, your chances of talking to those freaks are slim to nil. Only by leave of the Hetman is that going to happen, and he's handing out wolf tickets these days.
- What are wolf tickets? (optional)
- Oh, sorry, that's gumbotalk for being a bit angry. First Ward's crawling with Dregs and Ghouls and D.U.S.T.-- all making trouble for us nice little Last Worders these days.
- And with the Monarch off his rocker, it's up to the Hetman to keep everything in the Compound sorted, everyone safe, and when you factor in the Carnies into it all...well, that would make just about anyone a bit choleric, wouldn't you say?
- Tell me about the Hetman.
- or
- Who's the Hetman?
- Second in command to the Monarch of the Last Word Compound. You'll need to talk to him to get a visit to the clowns we've got in the clink.
- No one's allowed to speak to the Monarch right now. He's too busy painting watercolor portraits of his imaginary daughter...again.
- Watercolor portaits? What? (optional)
- I know, right? He sits around all the live-long day painting watercolor pictures of her. Which is kinda creepy, especially the watercolor part. Watercolor's creepy all by itself, even before you throw in dreamt-up daughters into the pigment.
- Anyhoo, the day-to-day affairs of the Compound are now handled almost solely by the Hetman.
- Where can I find the Hetman?
- You'd think once we got out from under Cole's thumb-- voluntarily or not-- we would've kicked bureaucracy to the curb, yeah?
- Yeah, well no. The Hetman's a busy fellow and only really talks to his confidantes or proper emissaries. You don't fit either bill.
- But I tell you what. Talk to ol' Billystick up in the central shanties. If you get in his good graces, chances are he'll fast-track you up the chain. I'll tell 'im you're coming.
Talk to Billystick
Unnecessary Solicitation
So you get past the gate and decide to stroll all the way back here, do ya? That makes no lick of sense. Get back to the Compound and find out a way to release my fellows in the Carnival.
Mission Objective(s)
- Talk to Billystick
Cheshire sent word you'd be looking for me. Name's William Barrow, but most folks around here call me Billystick on account that I used to be the Hetman before I got too old for it. What can I do you for?
- I need to speak to the Hetman about the Carnival.
I'm not so sure that's a good idea for a coupla reasons.
One, I just plain don't think it's a good idea.
Two, yer gonna really have to talk to the Monarch to get to them clowns. And the Hetman's real protective of the Monarch these days, and understandably so.
- Any chance you can just sneak me in to see the Monarch, then?
And why the Cole would I do a thing like that? Maybe you haven't heard, but the Monarch-- well, he's taken sick. As in the head. A few weeks back he got into that head the idea he had a daughter.
And that she was kidnapped by our-- what's the word?-- our 'ostensible' allies, them Carnies. Thing is, he doesn't have a daughter and everyone knows it. But what's a body to do but rustle up suspects when yer Monarch demands it of ye, fake daughter or no?
Turns out the Hetman and the Guard didn't have to do too much... a few o' the clowns heard wind of what was going on and decided to surrender. They denied it, of course, and who can blame 'em, but still, that's why they're in the stockade and we're lookin' at a potential war.
- Why would the Carnival surrender to a crime that couldn't have happened?
I never said it couldn't have happened, just that the Monarch doesn't have a daughter. Leastways, none that I've ever heard about, and I've known the man for a long time.
He's the kinda man you want runnin' this part of the gumbo. Breaks my heart to see his head kicked in like this.
But, well, we're talking about the Carnival and First Ward here, and both of those are synonymous with Different Rules May Apply. So who knows what happened.
- If you help me then I'll help the Monarch.
Now I can't tell if that's altruism talkin' or desperation. Either way, it came out quick enough for me to believe you'd do it.
Tell the Hetman I sent you with good conscience. As stretched-thin as he is, he's probably got a few minutes to spare for someone willin' to help us.
Talk to the Hetman
Unnecessary Solicitation
Hoo boy, Character, I swear you jes sleepwalkin' right before my eyes. Get back to the Compound, you fool chil'. There's work to be done.
Mission Objective(s)
- Talk to the Hetman
I'm sure you're famous, stranger, but this is the gumbo. I can't really be bothered at the moment. Take no offense, 'course.
- Barrow sent me. He said you would listen if I had his endorsement.
Did he now? *sigh* The next time you see Billystick, tell him his good conscience is growing barnacles.
I swear the longer we go on out here, the more everyone wants Kumbaya to just set in. We're losing our minds.
- Like the Monarch?
Yeah. Like the Monarch, but that's not your concern. Quit dancing your jaw and tell me what you're really here for.
- I want to talk to the Carnival troupers you have in lockup.
Now you're out of your mind, boy / girl. No one talks to them on my watch. I told the old man not to trust them in the first place.
If you'll excuse me, I've got other matters that demand my full and undivided attention.
- I could take some of that off your plate.