You shoulder the rifle for one last shot. Hopefully the ninja will get sloppy. Lucky for you, he does. Following the arc onto which he launched you, the ninja comes running up the building. At that moment, you bring the scope up, let your brain merge the illuminated and magnified image with its unmagnified counterpart, and pull the trigger. It breaks cleanly and rockets back into your abused shoulder. But the effects on the other end are most extreme. The round take the ninja in the shoulder, ripping through the flak vest. The man twists about, spun by and the impact, and falls. Good enough for you.
Very slowly, you manage to climb down from the building and limp outside the grounds of the town. You sit down cross legged on the ground, nursing the extreme pain in your chest. Thankfully, your spine was okay. If not, you would not have been able to get to where you are now. The question now is getting back home, to your mom and pop. The cash will have been delivered to an account which is not linked to either your person.
The question now, as you hide out in a small shelter you made in the woods, is how to get back home. There was no pickup method arranged; breaking the ninja monopoly on assassination can land you in deep shit. The calling card of the family business, started by your great grandfather, is that the client does not directly meet with the sniper. A request is made, parties come to an agreement, and someone is shot sometime later. The client then reads about the hit the paper, and sends to rest of the cash to a third party who delivers it to the family.
[A] Build a raft to float downstream to one of the larger towns for medical treatment. Requires a d20 to succeed because of injuries
[B] Beg for a ride on the wagon trail that follows the river
How do you hide your rifle?
[A] Bury it
[B] Steal some cloth and cord to cover it
[C] Carry it openly. The people who actually know what your rifle is is very limited
Here's a crude sketch of the town. Pls no bully. I'm not particularly good at this, though I'd like to eventually be a decent drawfag
The festive smells still linger as you crawl into position outside the town, waiting until darkness falls. You remember where the warehouse used by cloth merchants was in the Warehouse District. Your cat crawl past the guards is painful, since you have to use your muscles to push off the ground so as not to put weight on your cracked ribs. Sticks and rocks press into your belly, but you slip past the guards. Keeping to yourself and moving slowly, almost randomly, you circle in on your target.
There is a guard outside as well as guards from other warehouses, but you manage to ambush the guard in front of the cloth warehouse and put him in a chokehold. From there, you cut off strips of your robe to bind and gag the unconscious man. As an afterthought, you take his jacket as well. The warehouse has that strange smell that large quantities of stored cloth gather after some period of time. It's not terribly difficult to find a plain bolt of undyed linen and hack off enough with your knife to wrap around the length of your rifle. Smaller strips will serve to bind the bundle.
The next day, you wrap your rifle and chew on a stick to ignore your growing hunger. The walk a few miles down the road is rough, as mountainous are wont to be. It is well into the afternoon by the time you reach the road. Your throat is parched. The last thing you had to drink was dew from the leaves of plants.
Just when you thought all hope was lost a coach comes and the driver reigns in the horses. The door opens and a richly dressed man, with robes of fine silk, comes out. He smells like a barber shop with whatever product he's used to slick back his hair. He smiles from beneath a bushy moustache.
“Come on in, stranger. Where do you need a ride to? Myself, I'm heading to the provincial capital. Though this is a hush-hush sort of thing, I'm the mayor. Thank goodness those ninja were able to provide a body double.”
How awkward. You are about to get a ride from the fool whom you just tried to assassinate. Certainly, the provincial capital would have the hospital to treat your wounds; however, you just have a bad feeling about hitchhiking with someone you were trying to kill.
[A] Stay with him on the journey. You won't make it far with your injuries.
[B] Ask to be dropped off at the next town over. Minimize your contact with this man
Correct. The thing that makes you interesting is that you are a guy with a precision rifle and the skills to make use of it in a world where tweens with martial arts training and supernatural shenanigans can probably kick your ass in a stand-up fight.
[A] Stay with him on the journey. You won't make it far with your injuries.
sorry gonna have to be that guy on this, but the contract that we "fulfilled" will be seen through so we stick around long enough to see whether he was the one to arrange the hit on himself, if not we shank him in the throat
Heey Anon, nnoot to butt in, but if you wanted a different title you could make it Rouge Assassain Quest or something else since Ii imagine that this fella dislikes ninjas so isn't a part of the system and works eithheerr as a merc or an assassain.
Just to make sure I'm not fucking up the count, here's what I have so far
In the future, I would appreciate if all votes are replies to my story post. So, I'm going to flip a coin if no tiebreaker is forthcoming
The mayor helps you up into the coach. Your bedraggled and dirty appearance is at odds with the fine décor inside. And it is also at odds with the scornful gaze of his wife, who is wearing a festive kimono patterned with stars. There is a son who smiles at you as you scoot in next to him
His wife reaches for the mayor's shoulder and whispers something into his ear. She doesn't seem particularly pleased with your presence.
“This is my lovely wife, Lady Takahashi and my son, Toshio. What's your name?”
You give him the name of your journalist persona that you used to infiltrate the town.
Then, the son asks perhaps the worst thing, though this was not hard to see coming.
“What's that on your back?”
[A] “It's a special crossbow. I'm a hunter.”
[B] “It's a ninja secret.”
[C] “I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.”
actually seconding this.
mystizes the kid, maybe even kill him down the line, ya' never know. Anyone know if we have like, a mission rank for us? Like, are we a threat ? C Rank? B Rank?
maybe it's the wife. she clearly doesn't like us, maybe it's cause we're HER assassin. she doesn't want the guilt hanging over her.
Not seconding, but also curious. Do we have a bounty on our heads?
You look the boy square in the eye and tell him, “I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.”
The boy's eyes widen in shock, but then you smile, and pat his head.
“It's just a prank, bro,” you say.
“And I hope it was. In light of recent events, perhaps you should be a little more careful with your words,” says the Lady.
“I'm a hunter and tinkerer. This is a special crossbow, but I had an unfortunate run-in with a boar. And that's what got me into this ridiculous situation.”
“My friend,” says the Mayor, “that's an interesting dialect you have. Whence do you hail?”
[A] Talk about your actual hometown, it's an obscure little place that few would recognize.
[B] Make it up in reference to some place you've been
hey while it's nice to be known, anonymity suits us better an unknown attacker is harder
though I'd like to embellish our kit with flash bangs and other gear that'll buy us time to gtfo or make a lethal follow up.
“I come from the Land of Earth. Not upstream, but many leagues Northwest. I came down here because I've always wanted to hunt in the Land of Fire, and I heard how nice your town had become.”
“Well thank you.”
You are thankfully left in peace and start to nod off. The days you spend with the mayors family are idyllic, as much as this sort of thing can be. You still fear that you will be discovered, but nobody seems to have caught on. The wrappings around your rifle are untouched: you make sure to be sure of this fact on a daily basis.
At one of the towns, however, the Lady says quite bluntly, “There is a hospice in this town that can take care of your injuries. Of course, if you need to head to the provincial capital, I'm sure my husband would be more than happy to have you come along.”
Indeed, this might be a good idea, since there are likely to be many ninja in the provincial capital, even if their hospital facilities might be better. However, the option of killing them here might let you have your cake and eat it too.
[A] Get off at this town
[B] Continue to the provincial capital
[C] Commence the assassination
As you set up camp for the night, you go off to take care of business.
“Just the loo,” you say. You grab your rifle on the way while their backs are turned. While in the trees, you top off your magazine. You can smell the campfire and feel some of its warmth. It's a shame you had to prove his wife right.
It's a simple matter. You blade yourself to them. You turn on the illumination in your reticle. At this distance, you barely need to aim.
Down goes your target. His wife immediately latches onto his still moving corpse. The horses start to panic.
That one goes through your shoulder and snaps her spine on the way through. Lady Takahashi immediately freezes up. The driver starts running.
You frown. You were aiming for his torso, not his leg. At any rate, he won't be moving quickly.
Then there is the boy.
[A] Shoot the boy
[B] You can't shoot a kid like this
>[A] Shoot the boy
I don't like it but we have to leave no witnesses, if the ninja know our face they can put a hit out on something more substantial than a shadow and that'll limit out effectiveness
or we pull some extra cold hearted shit and "adopt" the boy and raise him as our apprentice. though this is stupid
>[A] Shoot the boy
It's cold but it's the quickest way.
We couldn't make it quick for the ninja kid but at least here we can not make it hurt.
Who would have thought that being a cold-blooded killer would be emotionally draining
You put down the gun. The child poses no threat. He looks at you with hateful eyes as you approach with your smoking gun.
The first words out of your mouth are, “I'm sorry. I'm so terribly sorry.”
“I hate you!”
You let the boy slam his fists into you until he grows tired and falls to his knees, sobbing.
“Someone wanted your father dead. Beyond that, I can't say.”
“Why did you do it?”
“I'm a professional. This sort of thing is what I do. This sort of thing is what ninja do,” you say
What do you do with the boy?
leave him with enough food and supplies to make it to the nearest town and high tail it with the cart and horses to town ourselves with the plan to get healed up and on our way asap.
“I'll be going now,” you tell the boy.
You lean down and give him a hug.
“Grow strong, kid. You're going to need it from here on out. Stick to the roads and someone will find you.”
You pat him on the head move to calm the horses. Thankfully the coach is relatively nondescript. You climb aboard and get the horses going at a trot down the road.
I think Thursday evening works best for me for the next run. Perhaps 6-7 PM Eastern. I will be working that afternoon, so that's why it is hard to guarantee a definite start time. And finish around 11:30 or so.
Kahles 624i, pic related
25" Medium Palma profile, threaded for a suppressor
Enfield-inspired, takes 10-round mags
High comb, laminate stock. See the classic Weatherby profile
Classic M1917-style shooting sling
Maybe. There are just some particular backstory elements which I want to appease for such a thing to make sense in my setting.
However, you could totally go full pirate with a brace of flintlock pistols