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Lawyers, Guns and Money Quest

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Welcome to Lawyers, Guns and Money Quest. Here you will direct the part of our main character and those around him in a quest to raise himself up in the world. A rags to (hopefully) riches tale. Most of the mechanics will be done in a 3 choice, participant majority selections. Write-in suggestions are encouraged, but I have final say if something is too wild for the context.

This Quest takes place in 1992, Munich, Germany. The Fall of the Soviet Union has rocked the geo-political scales as the West has outlasted the USSR. With the satellite states freed and the new Russian Federation scrambling to put itself back together, much of the world is undergoing a transition period; violently or otherwise. There is money to be made and only those who seek it will find it.
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>>1810834

Having managed to flee the Soviet Union in 1975 at the age of 11, Gustav, his father and his neighbour Natasha Sobel settled in Munich as refugees. Money had always been an issue for your entire life; when you were in Latvia under Soviet rule and in Germany, looked down upon and mistrusted by the local people there. You jumped from slum apartment to apartment, moving as your father found work, or being chased out by the corrupt landlords. Frequently you found yourself scrounging for work to feed yourselves. Your childhood neighbour, Natasha, left everyone behind to escape and has lived with you ever since. You hated living in Germany, but your father always remained optimistic, saying that your grandfather had strong ties to Germany in years past. With that, he toiled away at bottom feeding jobs for years until all three of you were working under-the-table jobs that paid for a decent, but small, apartment in Munich. By the time you were 20, your father had begun to show signs of a worsening illness. Eventually, he was bedridden and feeble. He died when you were 25, three years ago. You and Natasha managed to keep paying the rent on the apartment, barely; persevering through ingenuity and grit. Upon returning from your “work” securing payments for a local landlord, you enter the small kitchen and slump into the hard, boxy chair that sits opposite its spouse across the small round table. Natasha sits across from you, legs crossed, drinking coffee out of a stark, plain mug. You try to let the tension go from your limbs, settling your heavy arms on the table and tilting your head back to the gaze at the ceiling. Natasha pushes a small, parchment wrapped object across the table. Quizzically, you pick up the object.

“From your father.” Natasha exclaims, lighting a cigarette.

You untie the small twine string that encircles the package and unfold the parchment to reveal a note curled and crumpled around a round object. As you gently unfold the note, a metallic note sounds off the table as a ring bounces to the floor. You quickly put your foot on top of it and then pick it up. Reading the note, your eyes widen.

(cont.)
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>>1810840

“Gustav, my boy.

If you are reading this, then I am no longer able to provide for you. As I write this, I do not know what will become of me, but I did not have the heart to use what I am about to give you. I always said that your grandfather had ties to Germany and that we would be safe here. Well, I want you to take Natasha and seek out someone. I will give his address, name, and a password. I know this sounds ridiculous Gustav, but trust your father. Do this, and you will have the freedom to do what you need to do.

Natasha already knows, and I’m sure she wanted to tell you, but I hope she has not until you read this.

Good luck my son. Fortune favours those you seek it.”

Natasha looks across the table stoically, smoke gently rising from her slightly parted lips. You gaze to the bottom of the note and read:

“Vilen Vinters
4469-17B, Brienner

Manta”

------------------------------
>Question Natasha
>Examine the Ring
>Go to the address
>>
>Examine the Ring
>>
>>1810845
>>Question Natasha
>>
>>1811251
>>1811294

(thanks guys, writing now.)
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>>1811365
No problemo. Curious to see where this is goin.
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You let the note slip from your fingers onto the table and focused on the ring that you had been absent mindedly twirling in your fingers. You turn the gold ring to its face and your brow furrows. You eyes scrape over every inch of the emblazoned swastika. Confused, you turn the ring over, gazing upon a name inscribed on the bottom. “Alva”. Natasha takes another drag of her cigarette and sighs.

“Gustav… I know you probably have a lot of questions, so I’ll save you some time. Your grandfather was a Nazi sympathiser; actually, he was quite high up in the Latvian SS Legion. That was his ring. The man your father wrote about, he was one of your grandfather's fellow Nazis. Your father often spoke of your grandfather’s fortune after you had gone to sleep, but I wasn’t quite sure that I believed him.”

You gingerly place the ring down on the table and rub the stubble on your chin. You are unsure what to feel; anger at the fact that your father could have used this fortune and given you and Natasha an easier life, or disappointment and disgust that your grandfather was not only a Nazi, but a nazi of the worst degree; a traitor. You fold the note and shove it in your pocket shoving the ring into the other. You and Natasha converse about the note for several more minutes, enough for her to light another cigarette, before there is a hurried knock on the door. You both sit for a moment. Another hurried rapp on the door follows the first. You share a glance between each other worriedly. After so many years of discrimination here in Germany, you can’t help but be cautious.

-----------------------------------
>You/Natasha open the door
>Call out to the person
>Quietly use the peep-hole
>>
>>1811451
>>Quietly use the peep-hole
>>
You break your worried glance with Natasha and slowly creep up from your chair. You sidle your way to doorframe, picking up a bat that you keep behind the door. You glance back at Natasha, who has also gotten up, positioning herself behind a wall. You can see her reaching back behind her. You slowly move your eye into position as another flurry of knocks, you slide the cover out of the way any press your eye to the small glass tunnel.

“Arni?” you whisper

You nod back to Natasha, who still hasn’t moved. You continue to look through the glass at your friend Arni.

He is Lithuanian and also escaped from the behind the Iron Curtain when he was young. He however, did it by himself. He ran the border crossing during the night and managed to outrun the dogs and guards until he was in northern Germany. Eventually he came to Munich and you met him while you were a teenager. He seemed right enough, so you would say you become friends. However, something about him seemed off today. You can see him shifting on his feet and glancing around frantically.

He knocks harder this time.

You mouth Arni’s name to Natasha and motion to the door with your head. Your grip on the bat relaxes as you back away from the door.

-----------------------------------
>Open the door for Arni
>Call out to him
>Stay quiet and wait
>>
>>1811538
>>Call out to him
>>
>>1811538
>>Call out to him
>>
You call out to him.

“Arni, is that you?”

“Gustav! Gustav yes it's me, open the door friend!” he replies hurriedly.

You lift your hand to unlatch the bolt and chain of the door, but you hesitate. Instead, you move your hand to door knob and open the door, the chain pulling taut after a short way. He nearly runs into the door he tries to enter so fast.

“Gustav, let me in, man!” he says, the nervousness coming through his voice.

“What’s up?” you reply, calmly.

“Hah, nothing man, just, let me in. I need to talk to you.” he begs.

You can see him visibly shifting his vision to his sides, he can barely look at your face when he speaks. You wait patiently before his earnest glances as he gets more distressed. You can see him mouth the word “please” before he is shoved from view and an arm is thrust into the opening of the door.

“Get out here you communist prick! You took my friend’s money eh? Even though he said he didn’t have enough to live eh? Well I think we’ll be having that back!” a gruff voice shouts from the other side.

You can hear Arni pleading outside the door as you back away quickly, bat in hand. The door is being rammed and you can see the chain straining under the assault. You quickly look back to Natasha who is still covering herself behind the wall, a steely look in her eye.

----------------

>Wait for the attackers to come in
>Try to fend them off and close the door
>Try and escape your apartment
>>
>>1811635
Fucking mobsters. Do we have the dead bolt like in most other doors? Or just the chain
>>
>>1811659

We had just the chain in as we opened it enough to see Arni
>>
>>1811635
>>Wait for the attackers to come in
Don't swing like you're playing baseball. Hold the bat low and go for the knees. We're big yea? Should hurt quite a bit.
>>
>>1811635
>Try to fend them off and close the door
We'll wait for them to ram the door, and as they get ready for another ramming attack, we try to bolt the door and get Natasha out of the apartment, maybe through a window,
>>
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You ready yourself in the small living room of your apartment, gripping the bat tightly in your hands. You see the door rebounding on its hinges as the fellow outside rams into it from the hallway. You hear the man take a few steps back and you lunge forward, trying to engage the deadbolt. You grab the bolt handle in your fingers and begin to slide it, but the door comes crashing into your nose, sending you on your ass, skidding on the rug. You shake yourself back into focus as you smear the blood running down your face into your beard.

“You fucker!” you shout through the groaning door.

“Say that to my face you filthy pig!” the man replies

You can hear another man outside who isn’t Arni, You stand up just in time for the door chain to break and a man come tumbling into your apartment. You waste no time bringing the bat down into the middle of his back, hearing him cry out in pain. Two more men storm the room, climbing over the first man’s body. The lead attacker brandishes a menacing knife in his hand and an angry glare. The other man, roughly the same size, lets a thick chain fall and dangle from his hand. The first attacker rolls over on the floor in pain.

“We want that money you motherfucker.” The knife wielding attack growls.

“Listen, I was just doing my job. He owed rent, I collect rent. What do you want me to do? Then I get in shit!” you explain.

“Communists like you should be killed, yeah? Go back to Russia!” he yells, approaching quickly.

“We’re Latvian you germanic idiots!” Natasha shouts, emerging from behind the wall, pistol drawn.

Before the man can halt his advance, two shots ring out in the small apartment and small, bloody circles emerge on his chest. His face turning to that of fear. The other man drops the chain and begins to run. Natasha squeezes the trigger twice more, watching the man drop with a thud. Your ears are ringing and you feel lightheaded from all the blood streaming out of your face. Two men lie dead in your apartment.

-----------------

>Run for it
>Scold Natasha
>Find Arni
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>>1811780
>>Find Arni
He'll have to explain it to the cops then
>>
>>1811780
>>Run for it
Grab Natasha and run.
>>
Natasha glides past you, pistol still drawn as he looks down both sides of the hallway from inside the doorframe.

“Tasha, what-” you begin.

“Shut up. Grab Arni and we get out of here. We find that guy and leave Munich.” she commands. You see her check the magazine on her pistol as you step over the groaning man in your doorway to see Arni lying on the floor, hands over his head.

“Arni, Arnie its me” you mumble, your nose clogged with blood

Arni gets up and immediately starts apologising, that he was he was forced to try and get you to open the door, but you quiet him.

Natasha looks down at the groaning man and flips him with her foot, pointing the pistol in his face.

“Look here bottom-feeder. You tell the police nothing. If you do, I’ll cut off your ears and make you eat them.”

She leans in closer and the man shirks away, nodding. She tucks the pistol back into the back of her belt and pulls her shirt over it.

“Let’s go.” she says.

You hurry out the back door of the apartment and spy the car that your attackers must have used. You shove Arni into the back seat as you jump into the driver’s seat and let your well-practiced skill take over. In a moment you have the car hotwired and purring gently. Natasha gets into the passenger side of the car and motions with her chin to go.

You pull the note out of your pocket and hand it to Natasha. You now begin to process what had happened. You knew that Natasha was a tough woman, what with her upbringing and hard life, but you sometimes forget the grit she has. She looked after you as much as you did her growing up. Her size helps too; nearly as tall as I am and throw a punch almost better. You smile to yourself as you round the last corner toward this Vilen’s address.

-------------------------------------

>Everyone go inside
>Just you go
>Just Natasha go
>>
>>1811852
>>Everyone go inside
>>
>>1811879

(this is gonna be it for tonight; duty calls unfortunately)

Everyone piles out of the car, which you leave running, next to the building. As you climb the small set of steps up to the modest rowhouse. Natasha leans against the building, looking out into the street. Arni stands behind you, rubbing his neck. You knock on the door loudly.

No response.

“Vilen Vinters!” You shout, knocking on the door again.

You hear a soft voice coming from behind the door.

“Yes, yes, I am coming… hold on…”

The door opens slightly as an elderly man peers from behind the wood.

“What you want, eh?” he croaks.

You look down at the note, and back to the old man.

“Manta.” you speak.

You see the old man’s gaze drift downward as he shuffles the door open more.

“Come in, come in…”

You exchange pleasantries with the old man and he takes you into his study. Arni and Natasha peer at the walls, looking at all the antiques and various militaria. You keep your eyes fixed on the old man. He motions for you to sit down. You all take a seat on the sofa across from his chair.

“Which part do you seek?” he asks.

You peer over at Natasha, who shrugs her shoulders.

“Alva.” you reply.

A faint smile curls the old man’s face.

“Ahh, Alva. I was wondering when his children would come.” He gets up and retrieves a metal box and slides it over to your feet.

“It is yours.” he says, sitting back down.

You open the lid of the box, and your eyes bulge from your skull. The drying bloody river that stains your face cracking under your growing smile.

A box of gold bars, easily thirty of them. The gold reflects back on your skin, painting it with a lustrous colour. You pick up a bar, hefting it. You turn it over, and see the stamped mark; the eagle and swastika.

The old man smiles and nods.

“Heil Hitler.”
>>
Thanks for picking up a quest that was dead for nearly 2 hours. I really like where this went. If you like it, I'll continue it some other day when I have more time.
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>>1811956
Thank god for Nazi Gold.

Nice threat, It'll be cool to see where it goes
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>>1811959
I'd play this. Sounds better than typical anime wank.
Thread posts: 26
Thread images: 3


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