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Snippet #2283386

located in Wifield, a part of The Gentlemen Robbers, one of the many universes on RPG.

Wifield

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Brennan of the Grange/Elsbeth Waterton Character Portrait: Braith Alwyn Character Portrait: Jules Lockwood
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It was with a stroke of bad luck that Jules Lockwood chose the Crooked Bow Tavern to sup at that evening. He’d had many strokes of bad luck recently, reflected Jules, and it was all the fault of his countryman and ex-travel companion, Swanson Olidad.

It seemed that how much he wanted to be in Wlfield was in equal measure to how much Wifield did not want him there. He had traveled all the way from the tropical island colony of Morril, braving the Visayan Sea and the choppy waters of the Banda Strait in hopes that Wifield would hold more promise for him than his tiny homeland. So far it had only promised danger.

Jules and Olidad, who prior to their journey had been only acquaintances, set off in different directions when they arrived at Heatherford Port at the southern tip of Wifield, and Jules had believed the brief chapter of his life involving the other Morril’ai native was over. It turned out that he was not so lucky.

The robbery and murder of Lord Turnfield and his party was scandalous news all over Wifield. It seemed that the noble and those traveling with him had been attacked by a group of highwaymen. Rather than solely being robbed by those previously termed ‘gentleman robbers’, the party was brutally murdered. One of the men involved with the attack was his countryman, Swanson Olidad.

That was not the real problem, though. The real problem was that in a country comprised almost entirely of white men and women, Jules Lockwood was a very conspicuous black man. He was tall and large; a rather imposing figure. His long black hair hung down his back in neat dreadlocks, and though he spoke the common language of Wifield as his first language, he spoke it with a foreigner’s tongue. As it happened, his ex-travel companion and now infamous murderer fit the exact same description.

Everywhere he went Jules was running and hiding, hiding and running. Everywhere people claimed to ‘recognize’ him as one of Lord Turnfield’s killers. He was getting kicked out of inns, chased out of town, and it seemed only a matter of time before someone clapped shackles on his wrists and marched him to the hangman’s noose.

But it was late and Jules was tired. He had not the energy to find an abandoned alley to sleep in that night, so despite the risks he entered the Crooked Bow, taking a seat at the table beside that of two gentleman engaged in quiet but intense conversation. Jules had no idea how much worse his night was about to get.