TJByrum

Crime Bosses

Thanks @maylily915

EDIT: My intention is that I will need help from other player's to get to Mr. Rumby's killer. And in your post, just be aware that John is trying to remain incognito - in other words he doesn't want anyone to know Mr. Rumby was his father.

Crime Bosses

I was looking for a good mafia-based RP based in the mid 1900's, but I guess this will suit me too. Looks like we already have enough Irish influence in this thread... but I'm gonna be Irish nonetheless, cause it's in my blood. I don't know the name of the city, so I will refer to it as 'the City'.

I see that no one else is allowed to be a hitman, so John will be coming to the city seeking employment - until such a time as he can accomplish his goal.

Name: John Rumby
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Bio/Personality: John was born in a small town south of the City, off a dirt road, raised alongside his younger sister, Sarah. His father worked a weekend shift in the factory, but was gone throughout the week maintaining his 'illegal business'; he used money from both sources to support his family. John went to a small school and was always quiet and reserved, and was very protective over his little sister on the playground. Derek 'Tommy' Thompson was John's first friend, and remains his best friend to this day. Derek's father worked for John's father, and John's mother often babysat the two boys - so their bond has always been strong.

Growing up, Tommy always admired Sarah, but never made it apparent to John because he feared it would hurt their friendship. In their teens, Tommy started to get more involved in the Rumby crime business. John may have followed in his father's footsteps, but at his mother's behest, he was denied the opportunity. Instead, his father got him a job at the factory. Nevertheless, Tommy started to learn the tricks of the trade, and went off on his own at times to start his own illegal operations; needless to say, John was asked to help out, and he did so. But John never joined Tommy's little crime ring officially, however, as he respected his mother and did not want to go against her wishes. John has always been close to his family, and while his father was constantly away, he had to be the man of the house.

A few months ago, however, Mr. Rumby and his gang - including Tommy's father - was gunned down in cold blood. The exact circumstances are unclear, but the entire Rumby Mob was wiped out that day.

Angry, and seething with vengeance, John Rumby has come to the City to find his father's killer. Tommy is to busy dealing with his own operations, but he gave John as much information as he could, and is willing to give him more if he finds anything else out. But no one else knows this - as John has come to the City seeking employment, and wants to gather information about his father's killer.
Appearance

Other: John's not a criminal. Or at least, not in any real sense. He has helped Tommy on numerous occasions with odd jobs - but he's never done anything serious. That said, he's not exactly good in a shootout, probably not to accurate either; he hasn't had to much experience shooting guns at all. He also has no contacts in the City, so he has to start from scratch. He doesn't have much money, and has absolutely no assets, and not even a car - or weapon. There's nothing particularly special about him. He's just a young man who's way in over his head.

John's main reason for being in the city is to find employment, build a network of contacts, gather information about who killed Mr. Rumby, and eventually exact vengeance - when the time is right. He will befriend anyone he needs too, and betray anyone he needs too. If he survives all of this, he might even try to rebuild the Rumby Mob.

The Forsaken

Otto tried focusing on not losing his way in the raging snow storm. "Otto," he finally said. "I'm from Saxony."

The snow made the walking hard, and would wear the men out. The cold ate away at their bones. Snow stuck to their hair and eyebrows. Any longer in this weather and they'd surely go stiff and die.

Eventually Otto came upon a rocky outcropping. "Damn," he cursed aloud. "Dear God, help me in my time of need." As he spoke those words, he realized something. This outcropping was the cave! The snow was so deep it had concealed it. "Oh, here it is!" He started to shovel frantically at the snow. There was enough space now that a small opening would allow him to slide in feet first - and he did so.

It was extremely dark inside, and he was just as blind as he was in the snow outside. It was just as cold as well. The only advantage was that the wind contained. He would help Leonid slide in next. "So what's your name," he would ask, fiddling around on the ground to see what was there. Some kind of vines, shrubbery, and other growth. It was dry at least. He ripped it up and tried pulling it together into a small pile.

He fiddled in the pouch on his side next, looking for his flint. "Damn the dark." Leonid would here some scratching noises as Otto struggled to strike the flint together. Sparks shot out little by little. Miraculously, the brush that Otto gathered up started to burn. A tiny emission of light eventually turned into a flame. The Teutonic Knight worked to keep it going, grabbing the remaining growth and sitting it around the flame.

As the light got brighter, something else became evident. Another body was in the cave. "Good God!" Otto was startled, initially thinking the man alive. But the man was far from alive. He was frozen solid; purple skin, eyes wide open, mouth frozen together. He had froze to death. Fortunately for the two men who had just entered, there was some firewood the man had gathered.

"Reckon he's... Lithuanian," the Knight said. "Light armor. Maybe a scout. Might've been following my men. Tried to find shelter in the cave. At least he managed to grab some firewood. Help me put it on the fire."

The Forsaken

Half-satisfied with the answer, Otto growled and released the hilt of his sword. He bent down and grabbed the mystery man by his shoulders, pulling him back up to his feet. "Get up man," he said calmly and friendly. "Friend or foe, we can't stay out here for much longer, lest the cold take us."

After the man stood up Otto would say "I tried walking this way in hopes I'd run across some of my men..." Otto paused, wondering if this supposed Prussian was even one of his men; even if he was not, he must have been a man of God. "But alas, they must all be scattered and lost, or buried deep in this snow." He shuddered, thinking of the cold deaths those men must have suffered. God help their souls.

"I recall seein' a cave or some hollow off the road just down the way," he pointed in the direction behind Leonid, but wasn't sure if he could even see his hand. "Let's head that way and see if we can run across it. I've some flint in me pouch to start a fire, if we can make it that far. What about you? You have anything useful?"

Otto would wait for the man to answer, and would lead the way towards where he thought the cave might have been.

The Forsaken

"I said," Otto began to reply, a hint of annoyance in his voice, "identify yourself!" Whether he was just annoyed at the other man's lack of an appropriate answer, or if the cold was just killing his mood, was uncertain. With his hand still clasped around the unbearably cold hilt of his sword, the Teutonic Knight trudged through the unbelievably thick snow to where the man was, stopping when the silhouette of the man became more apparent.

"You speak German?" Otto yelled, simply stating what he already knew. He was unable to identify the man in this weather, and even if he sounded Prussian, he could have been a Prussian auxiliary in his own force. "What land do you hail from? And who do you owe your loyalty to?" There was a harsh, demanding, and somewhat desperate tone in his voice.

Otto never once moved his hand from his sword. It might have been frozen in its scabbard, but at least it might make the man think twice if he tried attacking him.

The Faintly Gallows

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The Faintly Gallows

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The Forsaken

The Forsaken

4 hours ago...
Otto sat idle upon a black horse, overlooking the march of men below. He watched as the banners of the Teutonic army fluttered violently in the high winds, as if they'd be torn from their standard. It was already cold, but he knew that come nightfall it would get worse. Prussians, Estonians, Livs, and members of the Livonian Order marched on slowly. It was a few hours past noon, and Otto deduced they were behind schedule; this sudden approach of cold made matters worse. He could see in the distance a storm was coming. His commander, Leopold von Kassel, mustered up what men he could in the northeastern territories of the Teutonic State, and was attempting to reinforce Bernhard von Zinnenberg, who commanded the Teutons in Chojnice.

The Poles will pay, he thought to himself, scowling at the thought of his enemy. The Battle of Grunwald, which saw the defeat of the Teutonic Order at the hands of Poland and her allies, was only 44 years ago. The defeat had come 9 years before Otto had even been born, but just hearing stories about it was enough to make Otto hate the Poles. The Teutonic Order had come to the region at Poland's request, and there they could rightfully fight the pagans. But Poland, terrible Poland, who laughably called herself a Christian nation, went against the Order. All of the men who were lost, all of the resources wasted, all this time spent in vain; the Order should be out fighting the Baltic pagans, stemming the tide of the heretic Christians out east, or quelling rebellions, not dealing with these spiteful Poles!

It would probably snow soon, or at least Otto thought so, what with the storm rising on the horizon. Should find Leopold, he thought, time to set up camp. As he veered his horse around, he spotted a single snowflake - the first of many to touch the ground.

---

6 PM
The blizzard came without warning. Not even thirty minutes ago, a howling cyclone of frigid winds descended upon the Teutonic army. Snow whipped around violently, plastering itself to Otto's mail and garbs; large balls of hail dinged off of his helmet. He held his plated hand ahead of him to keep the snow from blinding his eyes, but it hardly worked. Surprisingly, the snow in the air was so thick he could not even see his hand from a foot away. Not even the head of his horse remained visible.

"Leopold!" He cried out loudly, but the winds were so strong that he was barely audible; no one could hear him. His horse staggered, neighed, grunted, and struggled in the storm. Ultimately the horse gave up and fell to its knees. "No! No!" Otto failed to bring the horse back to its feet, but this weather was to much to bear and it collapsed, throwing Otto into a bed of snow. He had never been so cold in his life, and the stiffness of it all made it difficult to get on his feet. He kept moving, not wanting to stay still.

After a few steps he began to question the direction he was headed. He could have swore his allies were just ahead, but when the storm hit he became blind and never saw them again. So he just kept walking, and walking. Crunch! There was something in the snow. He bent down and dug in the area to feel something hard. He made out a helmet, and inside a frozen corpse. "Help me God," he said in disbelief. He tugged the helmet from the body and brought it to his face. He had to bring it within six inches of his eyes to even make out what kind of helmet it was.

"Oh!" He threw the helmet away upon the revelation that it was a Polish helmet. Quickly climbing back to his feet, he could just barely make out the silhouette of another person a few feet away. "Hey! Who goes there?" He attempted to draw his sword, but it was frozen in its scabbard; he nevertheless kept his hand on it as a warning. "Identify yourself!" he hollered as loud as he could in the terrible storm.

The Forsaken

Name: Otto Schwarzen
Details: 35 year old Knight of the Teutonic Order.
Items: (Refer to picture for armor). Otto carries a longsword and a shield, as well as a satchel bag with stale bread and flint.
History: (More to be revealed through course of RP). Otto was a nobleman from the Holy Roman Empire, who presumably joined the order for prestige and titles. He served the Holy Roman Empire in several military engagements before joining the Teutonic Order, but he has yet to reveal most of his past.

The Forsaken

The Forsaken

This is a 1x1x role play between @TJByrum and @Andreyich.

The Baltic, 1454; The Thirteen Years' War
A force of 19,000 Polish soldiers make their way to the Teutonic-controlled town of Chojnice. The Teutonic Order awaits them with their own forces, numbering 15,000. In a bid to reinforce their allies, Poles and Teutons make their way to the battleground, but are caught up in an ungodly blizzard. Two bitter rivals must put aside their differences and work together if they ever hope to survive. This is their story.