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  1. Many years ago, a coastal cave was investigated and found to have heavy deposits of Salt. While the original intent was to find precious minerals the Cave was never further explored. All that changed when three brothers showed up and began asking questions about the old, abandoned prospecting rights. Governor Gustaf granted the rights to the brothers after learning the original deed holder had passed on leaving the rights to the Settlement of Charlatan Bay. while its been a year since that meeting the brothers finally hit the payload. Some say it looks like a great northern Christmas day down there with everything being white. OOC: The original prospect was built by Gulagurag back in 2016 Link to Post who was informed via pm that Salt was discovered. Also its not been a year more like several since first discussed building a mine - I had started one and never finished till tonight.
  2. Colony Name: Free City of Charlatan Bay Ownership: Sea Rats Location: Infero Pordejon, Sea of Thieves Island Description: With 50 to 200ft High cliffs on all sides, and an active volcano that gives off smoke more than a couple times a year, this small island his highly volatile. An eruption in '618 was felt as far away as Nelissa. This seismic activity has led some to believe that there is gold to be mined in the cliff regions of this island. A large native tribe lives on this island, and they are rumored to be hostile. Colony History: The colony of Charlatan Bay is a free port and city-state located on the island known as Infero Pordejon. The main town itself was founded at the top of the cliffs overlooking the bay, but over time a warren like community has sprung up by the docks along the cliff base and this haven serves pirate captains and smugglers both looking to resupply their fleets and as source of miscreants for their crews. After the death of its founder, the colony found itself under Mardierian military control, though every day governance was the purview of a civilian mayor. With the eruption of the local volcano in May '618, the colony closed its port and fired on all foreign vessels trying to make landfall. Now under new leadership, this self-imposed curfew has been lifted. The colony presently hosts the headquarters of the Free Traders Association. <More details below>
  3. In an effort to speed the printing of the news from across the Brick Seas an entrepreneur has imported a press from the old world with his inheritance money and began production of Printing in High Town. He has hired an excellent team and a highly qualified typesetter so once the reports are in hand news can be put to print immediately. OoC: Just a fun build coming from the frustrations of waiting to see the MCRA Trade results. I'm aware that this will not actually speed up the process and the KPA team does do its best to get the news printed as quick as possible.
  4. Roadmonkeytj

    The unknown letter.

    Out of the Ashes -Roadmonkeytj To hell (and back?) -Keymonus Meanwhile in Acropolis -Keymonus Devastation of Charlatan Bay -Roadmonkeytj Waiting in the wasteland -Keymonus Those Damned Cannons -Keymonus Restoring Order to Chaos -Roadmonkeytj Relief Mission - Gedren_y  The road towards peace - Keymonus The town over the cliffs - Keymonus The Battle for Lowtown - Keymonus Civilization is Returning - Roadmonkeytj Fire and blood! - Keymonus Time to Go Home - Keymonus (A reflection back on the end of December 619 Infero Pordejon, Charlatan Bay) The fight for Charlatan Bay seemed to be at an end now ... Almost a year of skirmishes and battles in the streets. The fighting was not like that any colonial army had ever seen. There was no presenting arms there was no formations waiting to open fire. The men of Charlatan Bay were not void of fighting experience even though nariey any of them had never trained in an Army. The Men of Charlatan Bay knew one thing and they knew it well ... boarding. Because of this there were no battle fields there was only the unexpected. The Skirmishes that took place were bloody as men would lie in wait for the Malitia to make it's advance. Suddenly a lone cry of attack would break the still air, followed by a team of screaming as men armed with pistols, muskets, axes, or spiked clubs would pour out of alleyways, from behind closed doors, emerge from piles of hay, or simply seem to just manifest from thin air. Those that weren't killed or severely wounded would disappear as quickly as they appeared when the call to retreat was given. All of this was still circulating in Gustaf's head when he joined Tristan's men at the Docks. (Photo credit to Keymonus) It was easy for Gustaf to slip away for a moment and pen a letter in Honest Bob's. The harder part was to get a messenger to deliver it to Tristan after it was too late to tack back around. Luckily there was enough commotion at the Docks and a messenger was obtained without notice. (Photo credit to Keymonus) With that task done Gustaf rejoined Tristan and finished seeing the long boats off. Once the sails were unfurled Gustaf retired to the Governor's House on the edge of Hightown overlooking the Bay where he would watch the ship make it's way around the North Point and on it's way to Acropolis. Once Tristan had been well under way and the settlement had slipped out of the range of the sextant a cabin boy presented Tristan with a letter bearing Gustaf's seal. Tristan, It is with a deep saddness that I must watch your masts fade away on the horizon. It has been a fond journey fighting along side you once again. The New Malitia is quite a feat for this settlement. Citizens protecting fellow citizens is a monumental accomplishment in this city of the underbelly. My joy however is quinched with the fear that this new found peace will not last. As the Nights have grown longer as the seasons have changed I find myself overhearing whispers in the shadows and alleyways. They talk of the remaining street gangs staging to divide low town again after ”the regulars” depart from this place. It's as if your trained men hold some sort of power over them that the newly trained Malitia does not. It's as if they feel they can turn the Malitia to their cause again. I fear for this fragile balance that those men that choose to stay hold. I fear how quickly it will all unravel once the public opinion sways. Please don't be frustrated that I didn't share this in person. I know how you are ... You would have stayed and continued this fight with me. Alas my friend I recognize your need to conduct your affairs. This is why I only tell you in this letter. I could not bear it on my heart to hear of you swinging from a gallows as a traitor to your duties because you chose to stay and fight! I know you feel a personal responsibility for this fight but I believe it is time to involve your Superiors. I believe a well trained Malitia will only carry us so far. I have drawn plans for construction of barracks and training grounds in front of the low wall of the fort. Perhaps you could pass word that the new Govenor of Charlatan Bay is willing to put up toops and ships in the Harbor to help support the new order of the Bay. Good luck with your endevors and I eagerly await for news of your response. Your good Friend Gustaf VonBricktin Govenor of Charlatan Bay ______________ What does this mean for Charlatan Bay? Gustaf has been Promoted to Govenor of Charlatan Bay. New Construction is underway. The fighting is Quelled for now. All that is left is to wait and see. comments welcome!
  5. Keymonus

    Time to go home

    December 619, Infero Pordejon, Charlatan Bay More than two months had passed since the victorious assault on Fort Saint Millar. The local militia, that only a year before was nothing but a small group of tattered and hopeless highwaymen, controlled firmly the whole island: despite the fierce resistance of the last rebels and sporadic tumults in the streets, the inhabitants of Charlatan Bay could finally have some peace. The final victory had also brought back part of the previous wealth: after years of starvation and food rationing, supplies filled again stores and warehouses, while the plantations outside Charlatan Bay, abandoned for years, were now being planted again. In the bright morning, under the tropical sun, the Oleander volunteers started their return trip. The contingent, during the civil war increased to three full companies, started loading supplies and equipment on rowboats; the veterans of Fatu Hiva and the crew of Le Phénix helped them with chests and crates: nobody wanted to remain in the pirate settlement any more time than necessary. Fifteen soldiers, sadly, would have never left Charlatan Bay… each victory has its terrible price to pay. That day it was also time to part for two old friends. Tristan had definitely been away from his motherland for too long, and the situation was getting more and more dangerous every day: he had friends and allies in the Colonial Administration, but his fast rise from low nobility also created envies and discontent… remaining for too long on that damned island could mean a charge of treason, maybe even facing an execution squad. About one third of the Oleander expeditionary force, however, would have remained in the settlement for some more months: twenty-five soldiers with two six-pounders, led by the loyal Captain Charles De Maure. Stationed in Fort Saint Millar, they had to be deployed only in case of absolute need… a little precaution against further troubles with the gangs. Despite the success of the campaign, the undoubted victories, the limited losses among his soldiers, Tristan was very uneasy. Had he done the right choices? Had he saved civilians or offered a helping hand to the scourge of the sea? Had he saved Acropolis from a flood of pirates with nothing left to lose or had he only made them stronger? Only the Gods could know the answer. By sure, he had saved his friend, and a number of innocent people along with him. He had also accepted to repatriate without clamour the few survivors of the unfortunate Marderian Marine Corps, even if he couldn't find out anything about Admiral Cadiz… probably better in this way, considering his hateful treason and his cruelty. Another thought tormented Tristan during his last days on the island: the enemies had been defeated and the city was growing rich again, this was true… But the defences were still a paper tiger, clearly insufficient against an organized assault. The forts had been heavily bombed, and the city could barely afford the repairs; the militia was motivated and decently equipped, but discipline and training were extremely superficial: still far from the old Ashen Guard, or from the soldiers of the colonial Empires. And, by sure, Tristan had not saved Charlatan Bay just to let it be invaded by the rivals of Oleon… He was leaving the island, not abandoning it to it's fate. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The owner of the Honest Bob's Warehousing, an Altonian merchant named Robert (nobody knows where the "honest" part came from) is quite enthusiast for the new government. He doesn't care at all about who rules the settlement, but during the previous anarchy he was racketed by the gangs and his warehouses were empty, while now is business was going well again. Captains started appearing again in his office, making deals about their cargo, selling information about prices in different settlement or looking for escorting ships. In the bigger room, common goods are bought or sold: fresh or salted fish, fruit or vegetables, sea biscuits and meat, ale and rum, wood and carpenter tools… whatever is needed to keep a ship or a city alive. The upper floor accommodates expensive goods, such as refined wines, gold or exotic spices. These wares, always source of a huge profit, had almost disappeared from Charlatan Bay… another reason to celebrate the recovery of sea trades. Upstairs, as usual, negotiations were ongoing: in front of a lawyer, a Lotii captain is trying to exchange a cargo of Carnovian goods with two chests of gems. The Lotii and the Garvian smugglers don't trust each other at all, but the neutral mediator usually allows smooth transactions. In the shelf, navigation instruments are kept too: for a mariner, a good compass, a chronometer or a book with the coordinates of the main settlements may make the difference between reaching the destination or dying lost in the ocean… therefore they are more valuable than gold! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- With this build, I officially conclude the permanence of my main character in Charlatan Bay. It was a nice storyline, surely my best one since my inscription to BoBS. I have to thank again the ones who made it possible: Roadmonkeytj, the major of the city and the other main "player"; Kwatchi and Gulagurag, who created Charlatan Bay and its atmosphere; and all the people who commented and brought the storyline into BoBS world, for example with the KPA or the WTCM... Thank you all, guys! This build changes very little in Charlatan Bay storyline: the war is won, but the peace is still far. Oleander soldiers will remain there unofficially for a while, ready to help if the situation will require. Tristan leaves the island, but will keep an eye on the situation; a new secondary character, Charles De Maure, is the new leader of the Oleander contingent. The Lotii and Garvians are just a little addition I did after the KPA... with this I'm not involving Charlatan Bay, Garvey or Sea Rats in anything, I only liked the idea of answering somehow to the last news! Notes: Licensed as medium commerce in Charlatan Bay Lowtown
  6. Late September 619, Infero Pordejon, a open market in Charlatan Bay Lowtown The Keegan treaty seemed like it had been only yesterday but in reality it had been almost two whole months since Keegans men had joined the ranks. Lowtown had been taken back through many skirmishes. The all that remained had been pushed back to a reinforced line on the road to the Fort. Gustaf's Men now grossly outnumbered Tristan's volunteers and uniforms were commissioned from one of the local skilled tailors. This was done to necessitate a grand boost in moral and to create unity amongst the men as this civil war had been dragging on for the better part of a year now. Other changes could be noticed as well. Over the past week a Platform had been constructed .... The last time a similar platform had been seen in the settlement had been directly following the Dark Bishops reign. This platform was more intimidating though as a Large heavy blade was suspended over a stock. The talk that surrounded its purpose was that heads would roll once the fort was recaptured. It was also constructed in one of the open markets in the center of Lowtown. This was a bold statement as the governmental seat was in Hightown. Gustaf made his presence known in Lowtown with regular patrols with drummer and color guard always in step. Here you can see as Gustaf leads the a platoon past Arnesto the Smithy and the guillotine platform. The markets are also well stocked once again since the supply ships are now fairly regular. Fresh foods and even some preserved can be easily purchased from the Market Stalls. Medicines can be purchased from The Gypsy Woman providing you let her read your Tarot. Even Bru-HaHa is making its way to the settlement again. All that was left was the final push to the Fort. Surely supplies in the Fort were dwindeling as they had been cut off from thier supply ships as Gustaf had managed to beat the rebels to the Bells by sailing around the reach of San Millars' guns instead of the long jungle path through the gorge the rebels had tried. With the control of the Hidden Battery and Hells Bells the rebel smugglers lost many ships until they were snuffed out. Comments and Criticisms welcomed!
  7. August 619, Infero Pordejon, a plantation house in Charlatan Bay outskirts "I think we have reached an agreement. Now my soldiers are at your orders, Sir. Let's write down the conditions." Said Ezekiel Keegan, dipping the pen in the ink. "I'm glad that you find our conditions reasonable. With your collaboration, I'm sure that this useless civil war will see its end." Replied Tristan Rimbaud. Despite his mildly satisfied expression and his measured words (diplomacy has is code, even when the negotiation is over), he felt incredibly relieved: these words, probably, represented the end of the battle for Lowtown. Just in time, considering that the involvement of Oleander forces had finally become public, and the risk to get unwanted attention from other empires or, even worse, to be considered a traitor from Oleander police secrète, was becoming higher and higher every day. Ezekiel Keegan… a rich plantation owner, who, at the beginning of the civil war, had raised a small but well trained militia, armed with the muskets of the defeated Ashen Guard. An astute man, according to many a former Corrish officer: his soldiers occupied several key areas of Charlatan Bay during the first weeks of disorders, outgunning even the Marderian garrisons. In those days, he was almost controlling Charlatan Bay, but his assault against Fort Saint Millar was a disaster: he lost twenty men and, even worse, he lost the control over the gangs he had subdued. The Oleander volunteers and Gustav's militiamen had to fight only a couple of times against Keegan's soldiers, and remembered very well those fierce battles. Now, with the Sugar plantation treaty, Keegan had just moved on their side, bringing along forty expert riflemen. "So, let's recapitulate the terms: 100 doubloons in silver ingots, private trade agreements with the Rimbaud family, and special consideration for a rank in Charlatan Bay forces after the war. I also keep the plantations I control in this moment. In exchange, I recognize Gustav von Bricktin as rightful ruler of Charlatan Bay, now and in the future, and I put my men at your orders." "Correct , monsieur Keegàn" replied Tristan, intentionally stressing his Oleander accent. "But don't forget that all the trade agreements are subordinated to your relations with my mother country. And, obviously, to the capture of Fort Saint Millar and the re-opening of the harbour, whenever it will be!" "It seems reasonable, obviously I have to wait until you capture the fort..." Keegan seemed a little confused… good sign: he had just smelled gold, but now the profit was stepping away, delayed to whenever it will be. It was time for the final jab. "You will do something better, monsieur Keegan. You will come with us against that damned fort!" Tristan left the plantations, followed by his guards. The agreement he had obtained with that greedy and ambitious man, with a bit of luck, would have represented the end of the Battle for Lowtown. That, notably, was nothing like a battle: no real uniforms, no ranks of soldiers, no artillery or cavalry charges, no trumpets or drums; on the contrary, an endless row of ambushes, skirmishes and raids, alternating with alliances, treasons, bribing and intimidation, distribution of food and propaganda among the common people. From the muddy alleys of the city to the most malfamate taverns, from the nearby jungle to the lairs of the gangs, Tristan and Gustav had lead their men again and again, fight after fight. Now, at last, this bloody war was going to end: a final assault against the intimidating bastions of Fort Saint Millar, then Charlatan Bay would be back in control… Soon Gustav would re-establish peace and order, as much as possible in a pirate settlement, and the Oleander contingent could finally make his way home; they had lost seven soldiers, and many others, including Tristan, had been wounded, but the campaign was almost over. The reconstruction would have been long and difficult, no doubt about that, and violence could rise again, but keeping foreign troops in a Sea Rat settlement for too much time would have done more harm than good… what was going to happen next was in his friend's hands, their roads had to part again. Another part of the Charlatan Bay storyline, nearing to its end. I apologize with all the Sea Rats for the permanence of Tristan and his men, by far too long, but real life issues complicated a little the original plan of a blitz campaign. Anyways, my soldiers will leave soon; as usual, I want to underline that I'm not trying to occupy Charlatan Bay, and the presence of my volunteers is only a part of a joined storyline. I hope nobody feels offended by the presence of my soldiers or by the storyline itself, but PM me if you want me to change something.
  8. Infero Pordejon, Headquarters of Charlatan Bay Militia, July 619 Tristan Rimbaud was sitting in an anonymous room of the Salty Shipworks, the shipbuilding facility that his friend Gustav had chosen as temporary headquarters of their "army". He looked again at one of the maps, scribbling a few notes about the areas still controlled by the enemies. He emptied his glass of wine, one of the few commodities provided by the Oleonese ships that, now and then, connected the island with the outer world. How easier would have been to solve everything with a pitched battle, where the disciplined lines of his bluecoat would have easily routed the rebels. The campaign, during the first weeks, was surprisingly smooth: the well trained Oleonese volunteers took by surprise the garrison of the hidden battery, opening a safe channel for supplies, far enough from Fort Saint Millar and its cannons. On the same day, the first cargo was unloaded in a secondary landing point: a small task force of soldiers secured the beach, while the local militia took control of the main street… better keeping soldiers and pirates a couple of miles apart. One after the other, the rowboats reached the shallow water, where, months after the volcanic eruption, pumices stones still floated. That day, Tristan received also a letter from the Royal Court: His Blessed Majesty appointed Tristan the Count of Astrapi, a honorary title rather than a real rule over a territory, but still a ladder towards the highest ranks of society. The Defender of Fatu Hiva, as the Court defined him in the letter, could now look in the eyes, as peers, the bloated noblemen who once made fun of the Rimbauds, ancient as Oleon itself but not very rich or powerful. That first cargo, delivered at the cost of enormous risks, represented the best hope of success for Tristan and his allies: food for the soldiers and the civilians, seeds and agricultural tools… but also the musket he needed to transform the local militia, well-meaning but disorganized, in an effective fighting force. A few days after the departure of the Phènix another ship, curiously called Valiant Phoenix, landed in the same point: the passengers, disciples of a weird but pacific cult, organized a field hospital, a fundamental help for the starting campaign. This had happened almost a year before, but Tristan remembered those days very well: with the main road secured and the supplies for the town, he and his friend were ready for their triumphal entry in Hightown… that was a great day, a day to be remembered, but they all knew that it was just the beginning of the long road towards peace and order. @gedren_y, I wasn't following BoBS a lot when you published your nice MOC… I included here a little nod.
  9. Infero Pordejon, Headquarters of Charlatan Bay Militia, July 619 Tristan watched again the map, with the ink of the last notes still drying… each one, just a little more than a date and a couple of words, represented a little step between the current situation, with most of the town under control and a partial restoration of the order, and what he had seen almost a year before: a starving city, the port closed; unprejudiced pirates making a huge profit over the scarce food supplies, the same scums still holding Fort Saint Millar; dozens of street gangs, pirate leagues, syndicates, self organized militias and private armies, controlling small areas of Charlatan Bay and battling for warehouses, food, weapons and supremacy; the helpless civilians, trapped in a nightmare of violence, abuses, extortions and retaliations; hundreds of disperate people, with nothing left to lose, ready to board on anything with a hull, hoping to plunder the nearest ship or colony. Those people, who admired and hated, worshipped and feared their Dark Bishop, had remained without a guide and, after the catastrophic eruption, had started a brutal fight to survive. Tristan read some of the older notes. He found the first one: "September 618, landing point" -and, written a little below -"May the Gods help us all!". Then, moving South, the location of the first camp, were he met Gustav and his militiamen; the first skirmishes, the first plantations and cottages they occupied, the bands that joined their cause, surrendered or were defeated. He found the note about the hidden battery, their first, true victory: "December 618, battery conquered without losses, enemies routed". These few words summarized the first turning point of the campaign: that very day, with new weapons and food supplies for the population, Tristan and Gustav entered Hightown after a violent skirmish against the Red Scorpions and the Hook Gang. Common people and wealthy citizens welcomed them as liberators… what a great day! Peace seemed only a step forward, even if they all knew that it was just the beginning. Volunteers from Oleon and Gustav's men marched together under the Sea Rats banner, following the newly appointed mayor… and giving a lot more authority to his title! That day, Tristan saw for the first time the famous cranes, connecting the two halves of Charlatan Bay. Nobody, even during the worst days of fights and violence, had ever damaged that vital infrastructure. Tristan couldn't avoid to feel a certain admiration for the man who had made them possible: Emil Meloche, the Dark Bishop… a pirate and a heretic, a cruel man who lived in violence and died accordingly but, in a certain way, a great man, who founded a city in the middle of nowhere, making it great and independent, despite the open war against the whole world. Those cranes represented one of the greatest example of the old grandeur of Charlatan Bay. The platform can be lifted using robust chains and, in this case, slides along wooden tracks, allowing the movement of people and goods up and down the cliffs. A few days later, Tristan himself used the crane to reach Lowtown for the first time… as reported by the next note: "December 618. First food distribution in Lowtown. Strong resistance of a local gang. The battle for Lowtown has begun." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Another view off the build: Overall view: This is one of the last parts of this storyline, I hope you like that. The Dark Bishop is, obviously, Emil Meloche, @Kwatchi's great character and the founder of Charlatan Bay. Thank you for watching!
  10. Previously: Out of the Ashes -Roadmonkeytj To hell (and back?) -Keymonus Meanwhile in Acropolis -Keymonus Devastation of Charlatan Bay -Roadmonkeytj Waiting in the wasteland -Keymonus Those Damned Cannons -Keymonus Infero Pordejon, somewhere near to Northern Coast, 619 The new year had been a success so far - the retaking of the Hidden Battery allowed Gustaf to Direct ships to His Private Docks and also to the FTA docks. Both of which were out of reach of the main forts cannons, and well protected locations. Missives were sent out to begin smuggling supplies in under the cover of dark. Tristan and Gustaf had taken leave of the Patrols to do some hunting. Gustaf: Tristan do you see that up there? Gustaf: It never ceases to amaze me at how quickly Nature can restore order to her created chaos. The lava flows have recreated the territories and now the Males fight to reestablish their Positions in the Land. Gustaf: It seems we too fight to reestablish order, although it seems manmade chaos takes much longer to restore. However the work we have been doing has not gone unnoticed! I wanted to be the first to tell you that we have a new backer to our cause. As you know I'm a Member of the Board of the FTA. The decision was made Last night that the FTA will now finance Charlatan Bay back to its former glory with me as her Captain. I have it on good faith that with the Military supplies that your ship is bringing in combination with the goods that the FTA fleet is bringing next month we will be in great shape to continue our push into Low town. ______ OoC: This is a continuation of the Joint Story of Charlatan Bay Comments and Criticisms are welcomed Also this build is to Publicly declare Charlatan Bay is now Financed by the FTA with Gustaf VonBricktin [Roadmonkeytj] remaining as its Mayor. Currently the Port Still Remains Closed to Any Nations other Than Sea Rats without prior Approval (PM)
  11. Infero Pordejon, Northern Coast of the Charlatan Bay, 618 A couple of cannons in a strategic position, concealed in the thick jungle of Infero Pordejon… at first, the hidden battery was nothing more than that. Today, only two years later, things have changed a lot: the Bishop before, and the Marderian occupants later, progressively strengthened the little fort with heavier cannons, trenches and embankments, making it almost impregnable from sea. Together with Fort Saint Millar, this battery overlooks the bay… who controls them both, controls the port and all the naval trades of the settlement. "Five thousands doubloons for a load of hardtack and salted cod! What else do you want? And if we doubled the price, the inhabitants of Charlatan Bay would pay all the same! And we just have to sit here, drinking rum, playing dice and sending to hell any ship trying to sneak below our nose! We take no risk, and make a lot of money! Why the hell do you think we should take sea?" "Well, you are perfectly right, but… how long can it last? We have completely squeezed the lemon, and now Charlatan Bay is starving. Only the rich can afford the imported food, and now they are to the limit too. We are as rich as Mokolei satraps… why not to leave now, before one of the gangs, or one of the troublemakers of Hightown decides to cut our throats?" "Don't talk nonsense, my friend! The citizens may be starving, but some of them can still pay nice doubloons. The gangs fight one another in the streets for the control of warehouses and control zones, but all the goods they divvy up come from the port, and they know that no merchant would trust them… without our mediation the commercial routes would drain completely. Moreover, they are not strong enough to assault the forts. And that old captain, Von Bricktin, left the city several days ago... if we are lucky the indians are already using his skull as a mug, and may Hades damn his soul!" "You are right, as usual. Nevertheless I feel not quiet, our position is not so strong from land… I think we should hire more men, maybe build a palisade towards the jungle. And I think we should leave this damned island and enjoy our money in Mesabi Landing, Tortuga or another joyful city." "Mmh, taverns, alcool and high life… what a nice thought! One more month and we'll leave with all the gold of Hightown, I'm sure that some of those fatty pigs still hide money somewhere… let them starve for a while, and we'll take their gold for a piece of bread!" "Sir, the Oleander cargo ship we spotted has let down the sails… it has stopped right outside the bay! Hades knows what those drunkards are waiting for!" Meanwhile, a figure was crawling in the bushes behind the turret, a tomahawk in his hand. The man climbed the turret. The sentinel was staring the sea, as he had done for the last hour. Easier than expected… this sentinel was the last one. A quick hit with the handle of the axe, a dull thud, and all clear for his comrades. Everything seemed moving faster: a musket fired… ...sharply interrupting the conversation of the pirates. There wasn't even a real battle: it wasn't matter of bravery or cowardice, since the pirates were completely surrounded and no resistance was possible… could they fight with a gun already pointed against their face? Things were going well, thought Tristan, even better than expected… now everything was in his friend's hands, since the incoming ships loaded with supplies needed a safe landing point in the bay, far enough from Fort Saint Millar cannons. Using a little mirror, his men sent a light signal to Le Phénix, the ship waiting outside. The timing had been incredibly good, thought Tristan, thanking Poseidon for His help… with a bit of luck, that evening all the inhabitants of Charlatan Bay would have had something to eat, and Gustaf would have received all the guns he needed for his men. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This build was strongly inspired to Kwatchi's hidden battery (I referred with a link to his build), that I considered a crucial element in the joined storyline about Charlatan Bay
  12. Infero Pordejon, somewhere near to Northern Coast, 618 After a long, extenuating waiting, the day they had been waiting for had arrived. During the previous days, all the patrols sent in exploration had found nothing but ashes, destroyed buildings and skeletal remains of the once luxuriant jungle… that damned mountain had hit very hard the northern part of the island, while the southern area and the settlement seemed, from advanced reconnaissance, almost untouched by the disaster. If that was a divine punishment for the sins of the Dark Bishop and of his damned followers, the next time gods should aim better, couldn't help but think Tristan. What concerned him most, however, were the many signs of violence and pillaging his men had reported, such as smoke plumes in the distance, burnt houses and farmers fortifying their homes: sitting there waiting, while innocent civilians were being killed everyday, was destroying his nerves. That morning, however, something was going to change: Master Sergeant Marcel Dubois, using his words, had "taken contact" with Gustaf Von Bricktin, and the old pirate was arriving to the camp; considering how pale Marcel looked, the contact probably implied being surrounded by an angry mob of pirates. In a very short time, the pirate gang entered the palisade: Gustaf was followed by a few men, shabbily dressed and covered with ashes. Tristan immediately recognized his old friend, with his head up and the back straight. Despite the age, the long time spent as an outlaw and the peaceful retirement in Charlatan Bay, the old officer was still there, leading once again his men against the enemy. The army Gustaf had gathered, however, was quite different from the grenadiers he once had led into battle against the barbarians on Pontilla borders: his soldiers seemed tired and visibly starving, their clothes were dirty and tattered, while their weapons were a heterogeneous assortment of old rifles and melee weapons. However, thought Tristan, those men didn't surrendered in spite of all the troubles, of the hunger, of the hopeless situation: the old officer was definitely still there, and still knew his job very well. When the pirates entered the camp, tension rose a little: even if in a different uniform, all the volunteers were Oleander soldiers, and caressing the trigger of the rifle when seeing a pirate was almost a natural reflex. Discipline, however, prevailed, and the soldiers kept calm. "Tristan, old friend of mine! I will never thank you enough for your help! You have really been mad enough to come here, and you have also found found someone mad enough to follow you on this damned island… welcome on Infero Pordejon, by the way, even if you can't see my island in its best shape." "You almost seem surprised, old buccaneer! How could I have missed a chance of seeing your ugly face?" Tristan continued, more seriously "I'm glad you are fine, Gustaf! When I heard of the Marderian coupe against the Bishop, and few weeks later of the disaster that hit Charlatan Bay, I feared for your life. How bad is the situation?" "You know I'm a tough nut to crack… and the ones who tried plundering my housed learned it too. But I'll be frank: the situation is very bad. When the surviving Marderians left Charlatan Bay, the gangs of Lowtown, the pirate crews blocked on the island, and basically anyone who had a weapon or who could steal it started fighting: some for power, wealth and areas of control, but most of them for food and survival. The port still closed, since the bastards controlling the forts prefer speculating on the little available supplies, and the crops are failing. If we don't act soon, Charlatan Bay will starve to death, with the only exception of the responsible ones, who are becoming fatter and richer. Oh, I almost forgot, they also want my head on a plate for what I'm doing." "Well, I've seen better situations… "...but I also brought from home a couple of toys that could be quite useful." "I see you even brought a cannon… quite a strong argument during a discussion! But to be honest food is what concerns me most… we are scraping the bottom of the barrel, but the famine is imminent." "First of all, excuse me for my poor hospitality… you and your men have arrived just in time for the lunch, and I'm still holding you here talking. I think that things will look better after a proper meal, and it seems your men really need it. Unfortunately, I couldn't bring much without a proper landing point; a cargo ship will be here in days, filled with whatever we need to feed your people and begin the reconstruction, but we still have a little problem…" "Yes, those damned forts! They will fire at sight." "Unless we take care of them before. Come with me, after ten years we have again a battle plan to discuss together… and I think that the old officer I once met in Pontilla will enjoy my idea." A carriage of supplies An overall view
  13. Previously: Out of the Ashes -Roadmonkeytj To hell (and back?) -Keymonus Meanwhile in Acropolis -Keymonus Charlatan Bay 618- Tristan had sent out a patrol to inspect the area around where the supplies had been unloaded. It wasn't long before the men came across a badly burnt cottage. This devastation is terrible … There's nothing here to save! Master Sergeant Dubois exclaimed. Do you think the rest of the island looks like this? A private whispered to another. However there was no time for a response as the patrol had been surrounded. Easy there fellas you jest ease them weapons towards the dirt an we 'ave no problems Savy! Two gun Jo' as the locals knew him had a heavy island accent as his mother was a native and his father a sailor of unknown origin and port . He was boasted to be able to shoot the cork off a bottle at 1,000 yards and not spill a drop of Bru-Haha. The Master Sergeant had not spoken the words to stand down. But the would be captors were already relaxing their aim. It was only moments later when a carriage clambered up the lane with a four horse team, something that you would have expected pulling a fire brigade not a private carriage. Dubois grew even more uncomfortable with the situation when he noticed the long retired Platoon flag flying from the carriage. A hardened man who wore a Navel Officers hat stepped from the carriage. Sergeant Marcel I presume? Master Sergeant! Retorted Dubois And just who do you think you are holding me and my men this way. I am Gustaf VonBricktin current major of Charlatan Bay. I presume Tristan is nearby we should go meet him and get those supplies to my warehouses so they can be safe. How do I know you are who you say you are? Marcel questioned. Gustaf responded. Well I was hoping knowing your first name would be enough Identification. Fair enough, but that Platoon flag flying from your carriage hasn't been used since the invasion of Pontilla so how did you come by it!? Marcel said Boldly. That's a Battalion flag Master Sergeant, Gustaf smirked as he corrected him and I didn't say how I did. You will have to find out how Tristan and I know each other some other time I'm afraid, but for now since you recognized it as a Oleander flag, it did it’s job. As Gustaf's team gathered round He explained to Dubois These are my hand picked private patrol we have more allies at my warehouses in town that support our cause. Now please Marcel lead the way to Tristan we are running out of daylight. Oh and Private . . . The old man in the Admirals hat cut in This cottage was not a victim of the volcano directly, you see it housed the stubborn Mr. and Mrs. Pontelli. Before it was reduced to cinders you could find the loveliest yellow flowers growing in the flower boxes and always a kept garden full of wild flowers by the lovely Mrs. Pontelli. If not from the volcano then how did it burn? the private asked. The old Man Explained One night a group of bandits were a foot and they came upon the cottage. They demanded money and rations. Then when Mr. Pontelli refused they broke oil lamps on the place and torched it with the couple inside. The horror these people must be heartless! The private exclaimed. But this place is in the middle of nowhere how do you know of such details?  The Old man replied simply. Me and the misses hid in the fireplace until the cottage was lost and the looters had gone. Gentlemen shall we get moving? Gustaf questioned.... _______________________________________________ OoC: This continues the Joint Story of Out of the Ashes of Charlatan Bay. Comments and Criticism are welcomed Special thanks to @Keymonus for the inspiration of this story. Additional Pictures:
  14. The Charlatan Bay Infernos' had practiced all year since last years cup in Trador. They little squad was quite good as well. On the day the team gathered for their team photo just happened to be the day disaster struck on the island. This is the last known photo of the team. We are currently unaware of their whereabouts but the town has paid the registration fees just in case they wash ashore in Bastion. . . . . . . . This just in! Somehow against all odds the team made it to Bastion and poses for a team photo. Ooc: my original plan was to have the team gathered on the five fleets monument but I ran into a delay in replicating the build so I had to improvise with what I had to make the deadline. So instead they are in front of it (never got all the ships built lol)
  15. Tristan, I hope this letter finds you well, old friend of mine. I know it has been some time since we have wrote the last time: by then I have taken up residence in Charlatan Bay on Infero Pordejon, as you probably know a large volcanic island in the Sea of Thieves. It has been a great change going from sea life to that of a landlubber... I had started building ships to keep my connection to the sea, even if the salty wind on your face and a deck under your feet are quite a different thing. However, all was going well until several months ago: the volcano on the north side of the island exploded suddenly and it seemed the town was going to be destroyed as well. At first it was sheer panic as the cloud of ash and smoke belching from the mountain turned the morning sky as dark as a moonless night: it was like a demon fell over the town cloaked in its new ashy cloud. It didn't take long for people to start scrambling to catch the tide. It was pure chaos: several ships sank in the bay just by others running through them. Then the fortifications began firing on ships trying to maintain order in the Bay. That day was terrible, but I'm afraid this was only the beginning of the disaster. With the port closed supplies quickly doubled in price. Then the looting started: at first shop owners were threatened and beaten, but the more it drug on the worse it got. Soon the beatings turned to murders as the keepers tried to fight back. Mass riots plagued the streets and soldiers couldn't control them, not even firing on the crowd. Hightown even began to see the crime of Low town, and Low town fell in the most complete anarchy. I have seen my town turning to ruins. Tristan, as you know I am not a fearful man but I am afraid that if I don't step up soon, I too will just be another body in the street. I've rallied a few supporters and I plan to retake my town from the violence and the chaos. My friend, I know you have always been one for a good fight, and now the honest citizens of Charlatan Bay desperately need somebody fighting for them. I would gladly accept some help, maybe some privately trained men if you can. I don't wish to bring here any army as that would be the ruin of what we have strived to build here, but I will take back my town and would love to have some good men at my side. Your Old Friend Gustaf VonBricktin The last rowboat reached the coastline. Only months ago they would have met groups of fishermen, maybe a pirate crew sharing the spoils of their last raid. Now the little beach was covered with rocks and ashes, and the only sign of human presence was a ruined building, buried in almost a metre of volcanic debris. That bay had always been quite a secluded place but now, with the terrifying fallout of burning ashes that had hit the northern coast, there was not a living soul who could see them, or hear the floating pumice stones, as big as a human fist, hitting their hull with dull thuds. And that was exactly what they wanted. "Sir, no sign of hostile forces spotted. For miles all around us there are only burned trees, a couple of ruined houses and a barren wasteland of damned ash!" These words broke the unnatural silence of the bay. The men were nervous, things seemed wrong, that place seemed more suitable for damned souls than for living beings; they couldn't hear a single seagull, a cormorant or a parrot… but sometimes a low rumbling came from that damned, restless mountain. The officer continued: "Please, don't consider me a coward, monsieur Rimbaud, but…" "But we are still in time to take our boats again, row as fast as we can and never come back, hoping not to meet Hades himself in the meantime." Completed Tristan Rimbaud "Were you saying something like that, right?" "Yes Sir. More or less, Sir." Replied with uncertain voice the officer. "To be honest I don't like the situation too. We have just landed on the devastated coast of a pirate island where most of the population frankly hates Halos nations and their soldiers. Moreover, we can't receive direct support from our country and can't wear our reassuring uniforms, or it would seem an invasion and we would have to face a general riot. In that case, even a shallow grave would be a good result. I would rather take a vacation in Hell than being on this island. But, if we don't lend a hand to my old friend Gustav, the settlement would starve and fall in the most complete anarchy. Any appearance of order would disappear from the island and, while the civilians would suffer enormously, the most dreaded pirates, with nothing left to lose, would swarm like vultures in the whole archipelago." "So... we are really here to save the pirate republic, Sir? I thought I would have seen Charlatan Bay in a different situation, from a firing battleship, for example!" "Our mission is exactly what I told you when you volunteered for it. A pirate republic is bad, but the alternative is worse." -Then Tristan raised his voice, talking to his men- "Soldiers of Oleon! We are on this island in an unexpected situation, to help people that only months before we would have fought fiercely. Our task is to help bringing order back and giving aid to the population. It's a difficult task, you know that, and we will not receive reward nor glory. You all volunteered, but you are still in time to take a step back, you would not receive punishment or contempt. Now decide. I don't need brave men, I need something more: I need Oleander soldiers, the pride of our Nation! Are you with me?" The soldiers looked each other for a second, then their expression became proud. One of them made a concorded signal to their ship: the crew would have sent some more boats with horses and supplies for the town, then they would have left. Tristan gave a little sigh; he had recovered his men's bravery, now they would have followed him to Hell and back. Exactly where he was going to. This is the beginning of a joined storyline with @Roadmonkeytj (credit to him for the letter). My character is in Charlatan Bay with a support/humanitarian role and should not be considered a hostile force. The soldiers (not many, less than a company) are there only storywise. @Kwatchi, I'll try to be as faithful as possible to the way you created the settlement. I'll follow Roadmonkeytj's guidelines and won't do anything too strange. PM me if you don't like something of my builds (that will basically be training some militiamen, bringing supplies and so on)
  16. Follow the Story: Out of the Ashes -Roadmonkeytj To hell (and back?) -Keymonus Meanwhile in Acropolis -Keymonus Devastation of Charlatan Bay -Roadmonkeytj Waiting in the wasteland -Keymonus Those Damned Cannons -Keymonus Restoring Order to Chaos -Roadmonkeytj ------------- The town had been in complete turmoil since the eruption. At first people fled. Then the remaining turned to looting and killing as the supplies in town dwindled. It seemed as though the town was slipping into utter chaos. The mayor was missing presumably killed or run oft Gustaf knew something had to be done. High town looked like a ghost town now days he hadn't been to the shipworks sink the eruption as he had been too busy protecting his home. Ash still clung to everything as the mountain belched smoke for the better part of a month. He had decided, while taking a stroll past one of the fountains, that something needed done. But what? With no formal leadership in the Town to address any concerns. That was it Gustaf would just have to take control. He would be the new major ... At least until he figured out what became of the old major. _________ As of now the Port of Charlatan Bay is to remain closed unless prior permission is obtained via pm to @Roadmonkeytj. As new major of the settlement Gustaf intends to reopen the port for trade, however in this transition period of re-establishing order special permission to make port will be decided on a case by case basis. Ships wishing to make port shall anchor in the Bay and wait to be boarded by a harbor official. (approval via pm) Any ship failing to follow this will be assumed hostile and fired upon. Those not lucky enough to be sunk shall be immediately detained @Capt Wolf this is an official decision. _____ OoC: After Kwatchi's story development of the volcano I wanted to build a grey scale build to simulate everything covered in ash. Also in the events that followed behind the scenes ... I want to thank @Kwatchi for the major position of such a fine port. It will take me a bit of time to get things sorted out but eventually she will return to trade. Edit: also my sig fig is unavailable in LDD as his parts are retired so I substituted lol C&C is welcomed
  17. As the tide started to draw out in the early morning hours a visitor arrived at the Salty Shipworks This visitor was not like most who visited the shipworks ... The jungle cat would cause many disruptions to the production of ships in Gustafs' shipworks. Something would have to be done ... And soon OOC: Just a little build (expanded the shipworks and built different work in progress ship) to continue the Sir Mowgli and his missing House Cat story from the KPA. A "daylight" shot: Comments are Welcomed!
  18. At the end of the docks, lower city part and hardly visible from street level, as it has been built onto the cliffs, the Free Traders Association opened a second warehouse, and a trading office. Due to the volcanic nature of Infero Pordejon, it is built out of basaltic rocks. Bonus pics later C&C welcome. Will be licenced as a medium commerce by the FTA
  19. Having given up her duties as mayor of Charlatan Bay, Captain Amara returned to where she was happiest - living the pirate life on the high seas. Aboard her new war brig Dreamchaser, she chased the horizon once again and woe betide any merchant she came across. ===x===x===x=== My brother @Gulagurag finished this MOC over a month ago but couldn't bring himself to post it - he avoids the forums after getting turned off by the drama.. So I am doing it for him. No need to criticize or comment, because it is highly unlikely he will ever read it.
  20. Feb 8, 618: Mayor's Office, Charlatan Bay Yes, come in! Ma'am, I come with an official protest from Captain Jardine. With the... um... demise Bishop Meloche and his inner circle, you are now the highest ranking municipal leader in Charlatan Bay. You do understand? Yes, yes. Stop wasting my time. Just get to the point before I anger. Madam, as you are now in charge of the town, you need to deal with… its… um … continued welfare. In example - you have yet to address the seizing of the Peregrine by Eslandolan forces, let alone that they are detaining the FTA trade fleet, in Fuerte Unido. Captain Pike has the authority to address this and I believe he has recalled the Toucan into service. Now Mister Delleli, I believe I warned you to get to the point. Please do so before the point of my sword beats you to it!. Yes ma'am. The jist of it is that your commissioning of a new ship for your own purposes has given the military governor, Captain Jardines, the erm.... impression you plan to depart. And? The colony requires its civilian government to function! Who shall be in charge while you are gone ma'am? Is that all? Hah! I have already taken care of it. Let me introduce my deputy mayor, who will act in my absence... Jared Gordon, at your service Sir. So with that settled, I have other business gentlemen. Good day to you. But ma'am... GOOD. DAY. GENTLEMEN. Yes ma'am. Good day ma'am. FISH, GET IN HERE! Close the door behind you. Did you find it?! Yes, Cap'n. The Mardierians dumped it right where you said they would. Perfect. With this and his diary, we may still have a chance. Have the Puck's Jest II made ready to sail. We leave at dawn! ===/===/=== So this was a joint effort. Gulagurag (who enjoys building and sailing part of BoBS, and can't be bothered with the rest) did the office and the story, while I got stuck with the photos, posting, and forms. (And since I took the time to post it, I get the 10dbs!!! ) This build has actually been languishing for a while on the shelf while we dealt with other nonsense, but finally starts off our Era 2 story line in earnest. It will also serve as the sister-ship build for the Puck's Jest, lost back in October.
  21. Gustaf was growing tired of sleeping in a spare store room at the Salty Shipworks so he decided to erect a home. After all if he was to keep up with the idea that he was just a landlubber businessman then he needed to fit in. So plans were drawn and in his spare time he completed the structure. He even did some landscaping to make it look less like an old tavern. Ooc: Finally got around to building a residence ... No interior for now ... This will be licenced as a small residence in Charlatan Bay Thanks for looking c&c welcomed
  22. Jan 03 618: Aboard the Peregrine at anchor off of Freeport I have clandestinely met with the Mardierian diplomatic officer in port Captain Pike, and I have a dispatch addressed to you. Thank you Mr. Frenetti. You may be an adequate liaison officer, but you are one top notch sneaky git. We'll make a pirate of you yet. Not likely sir. Only teasing. Hand it over please. It is from your nation's intelligence service. It seems the Corrington admiralty's conflict with those buccaneers out of Bastion continues to confound them. Their most brilliant solution is to antagonize all the remaining free ports and declare war against the lot, and that unfortunately means Charlatan Bay. An official declaration from them is expected within the next four days. Astounding! Can the idiot Corrish still not tell the difference between a pirate and free trader? It beggars believe sir. Mr. Frenetti, at this point I sincerely doubt those buffoons can tell the difference between a sow and their own mothers. They have difficulty just keeping their own people under control but that won't stop them from bumbling into a new war through their own sheer incompetence. Nothing to be done about it. As acting Commodore of the colony's fleet, it appears I'll have to make preparations. If your nation would do me a service, I'll have a number of urgent dispatches for you within the hour. We have warnings to send, and it appears we'll need a place some orders with the shipyards. ===/===/===/=== This will serve as the vignette supporting my increase of ship activity level to 35. Additional photographs
  23. Charlatan Bay, Infero Pordejon seemed like the perfect place to lay low and Captain Gustaf knew exactly how to hide in plain sight. After a meeting with the powers that be he took to work carving out some more off one of the old caves to build a workshop. The cave keeps the shop supplies secure and the stone removed was used to build the offices. Gustaf figured he'd pay homage to the old nickname Salty Devil and named it the Salty Shipworks. Gustaf hired an overseer to keep the books and the crew working smoothly that way he can have a more hands on approach with the ships. Most don't even know he owns the place ... Just think he's a hired hand. James Edwards overseer of Salty Shipworks The crew heads out to start the day including Gustaf who just met with Mr. Edwards to discuss the details on the current build.
  24. A native of the southern nation of Salleek, Alsin Jarpur was a free spirit who made his living as a barber in his home country, like his father before him. Succumbing to wanderlust, he travelled up along the Merlonic Sea coast until a fateful day in Oleon when he was press ganged on to the royal frigate Saville. That began a decade of servitude in the cramped, miserable confines of the Oleon ship where he became as a surgeon’s mate thanks to his skill with a sharp razor blade. At some point in his impressed servitude, he learned of the Old Faith of the Patheon of Three from some of his fellow sailors, and though not devout, took to it as his own in order to fit in with his mess mates. During a cruise to the Sea of Thieves, the Saville made port at Astrapi to refit after having lost a number of spars during a storm. Ever longing for freedom, Alsin took the opportunity to jump ship and hid in the wilderness until the frigate had sailed. Then after finding little compassion for a foreigner amongst the populace of Isle de Zeus, he heard a rumour of a nearby colony where the Old Faith was practiced once again. Stealing a fishing smack, he made his way to Charlatan Bay where he was received with open arms. He was given a place in the nascent colony and established himself a barber shop on the main floor of a house built by a family who had succumbed to malaria weeks prior. Fate had taken a hand perhaps. Alsin Jarpur has quickly become a fixture in the free port. While not a fervent believer, he makes his devotions to Hades and Poseidon each morning and his living mostly by way of barbering for the town folk and passing seaman; though he will occasionally be called into action as a surgeon when a raider ship makes port after having badly lost a fight. The Dark Bishop himself can frequently found in the barber shop after his recent rejuvenation (see previous) and seems on rather cordial terms with Jarpur. Some note however that Meloche’s visits for a haircut and shave tend to coincide with when Alsin is required to conduct an amputation, and some secretly whisper that the Captain feeds on the pain and suffering of those poor souls under the knife. ==== This will be licensed as a small artisan. And I promise, no more indoor vignettes for a while. :)
  25. Location: Charlatan Bay Type: Large Factory He air hung heavy with the screams of horses and the scent of blood as Charlatan Bay's most industrial factory worked hard to create a vital product. Horse sausage Factory by North White, on Flickr Horses were brought in on small boats to the edge of Charlatan Bay, where the factory worked hard to process them. The WTC Riff Raft brought in two an hour on a good day. Horse sausage Factory by North White, on Flickr Completed Sausages were smoked in a small smokehouse built on the remains of the captains cabin. Horse sausage Factory by North White, on Flickr But Unfortunately, the Horses had to be sheared and dehoofed before they could be made into sausages, which was the bottleneck of the operation. Horse sausage Factory by North White, on Flickr But, once they were liberated, they could be ground down into sausages. It usually took a bit of prompting to force them into the grinder, but giving them a stiff drink beforehand usually weakened their resolve. Horse sausage Factory by North White, on Flickr And so, box after box of horsausage was made, smoked and shipped off into the colonies. Horse sausage Factory by North White, on Flickr FIN Hope you liked this build everyone. The factory is supposed to be built on a wrecked ship, next to an equally wrecked building, I'm just not sure how clear that is in the pictures. I really had fun with this one, and with all my Charlatan Bay builds in general. It was nice to have a change of atmosphere with my builds. I'll probably license the WTC Riff Raft in the future as a class 0, but I'm usually pretty lazy about doing so. C&C appreciated! Let me know if I should upload better photos as well, It's midnight here, and the light ain't to good.