The People's Republic of Adanac (A role playing game)

[Schme]

Not enough to work with? Should I write more? I don't know. Please tell me if that is the case, though.

[Schme]

Should I take that as a yes?

[west]

John raises his eyebrows.

Well. This is interesting.

He dismisses the possibility that someone is playing an elaborate hoax on him by reasoning that he's not worth the expense, and the possibility that he's just dreaming by reasoning that he never could have come up with this sort of thing on his own.

His dream world this ain't.

Johnny's always liked sci-fi, so he is perhaps more willing to just go with it than if he had been a bit more realistic. Parallel universe, or time travel? He wonders.

Well. He knows where he ain't, but not really where he is. He still hasn't found the "C.C." or Alex City on the atlas, so he flips through the pages trying to find it. But first, he decides to flip to the copyright page to see when this atlas was printed. Maybe that'll help.

(sorry I was gone for a while. if you could please put in your next post both the Alex City information and the info from the copyright page, that'd be great. Maybe some sort of interesting event, too. )

[Schme]

I must say, I'm hard pressed to find some interesting event for a library. I think back to when I was younger, what interesting things happened at the library.There were fights, and people would deal drugs, but it wasn't all that interesting. I can't say I can come up with anything.

But I am writting the thing on the city and suchlike. Be done soon, perhaps tonight. Sorry to take so long.

[Just A Bill]

Jack woke up. He was feeling reasonably good. This suprised him somewhat. It was just his luck to come down with some stomach virus on his first vacation in 3 year. His unit had just gone thru a rotation at the National Training Center at Fort Irwin. As a Lieutenant in in the Army, he had handled his Abrams well in the most expensive game of laser tag ever created. Unfortunatly it had been almost impossible to get leave prior to the rotation. But that was all behind him.

So here he lay, his wife of next to him, their three yearl old daughter Suzie in a sleeping bag at the foot of the bed. He was wide awake, hungry and his sore. Other than to answer natures call or hurl, he had not been out of bed in the last two days. He slowly got up so as not to wake either of them. Glanced at Suzie, her face sunburn from her first days at the beach in her young life. He had told them to go. No point in all of them being miserable. Looking at the clock it was just past ten.

He quietly walked into the other room of his hotel suite, called room service and had a bowl of chicken soup sent up which he ate with caution. After finishing the soup and still feeling ok, he followed it with a couple of sandwiches he made from supplies they had bought in the hopes of having a picnic.

His hunger saited, went into the bathroom, feeling several days worth of stubble on his chin, he pulled out his shaving kit. After lathering his face, he shaved with a straight razor. His father had given him the razor as part of the rite of passage when he learned to shave. Its finely honed edge and pearl inlays always brought back memories of his father when he used it.

Completing his shave, he decided a long hot shower would do his sore body good. After he was clean, he just stood in the shower a while, letting the hot water soak in. It was then he heard it, first a low rumble, then the tub seemed to tilt at crazy angle, he reached out to keep from falling, then...


Jack awoke feeling well, kind of drafty. He was lying face down on hard pavement. He looked up. In his hand he saw a small bottle, 2oz of shampoo, courtesy of the Fairfield Inn, Fort Lauterdale. Taking further stock of his situation he was in some kind of an alley, the few passers by seemed different somehow, and not at all friendly.

He stroked his chin, noting any growth, then ran his fingers thru his hair. How long had I been out he wondered? Deciding it would be best not to be seen until he had a clearer picture of what was going on. He carefully climbed into one of the dumpsters. He punched thru a rusty spot in the side of the dumpster to give him a view of the alley and street outside. Then he began looking thru the trash in the dumpster. Looking for anything that would tell him where he was, and what day it was, perhaps a newspaper or magazine, or even a register reciept might have the date on it.

When the street was relatively quite, he looked at the doors and windows of the buildings on either side of the alley, Perhaps a window or door could be opened or forced to allow entry, or the fire escape might lead to an easier entrance on an upper floor.

Falling back on his training, he mentally assessed the situation...
1. Personnel - Just me...
2. Intel - almost none.
3. Planning - Wait, see what developes. Perhaps a law enforcement official would appear outside and he could make himself known, perhaps one of the inhabitients of these buildings would leave, providing me with an opportunity to get inside without being seen, or worst case, wait till nightfall and attempt to quietly attempt to get inside by forcing a door or window. Perhaps he could find clothes inside or a telephone where he could call the police?
4. Supply - 2oz shampoo.

[Schme]

Oh, oh hurray!

I'm very very glad you've decided to play. I'd thought that no one new would show up. You've know idea how flattered I am.

Glad your going to play, very glad.

And might I add, I thought it very sportmenlike of you (well, I don't know what else one would call it, I'm not a very charismatic person) to put your character in a posistion such as that, so as to make for story and suchlike.

By the way, his mental assement was halarious!

Very nicely done.

I'll write up a reply thing real soon. Probably by lunch, along with West's.

By tonight, is both of them, for very certain.

[Schme]

Make that some time by tonight.

But Witchita still gotta do something. Unless you need more. If so, tell me, or I'll have gone out again, and it will take longer.

[Schme]

In a bit of crunch right now.

Death and betrayal and military coups and all that. You know, the usualy family type things.

I'm trying to seize the presidential palace, but my uncle's pretty crazy, and the national guard knows what it's doing. But it'll all clear up soon, and I'm almost done all the replies. Just give me yet more time.

I'll let you know how it turns out.

[Schme]

Oddly enough, there was extensive information on the nation labelled Dominion of Canada, aswell as a great deal of information on what was labelled the Nothern Union, aswell as most of the countries along the Dominion's border.

The date of publication on the copyright page stood out, as it stated the book as having been published in the year 2056. The book was published by a company called "Dominion Publishing". Dominion seemed to be the theme around.


"Alex City, C."

Alex City is the capital of The Dominion of Canada and the nation's fourth largest city.

Geography:

Alex City sits on the south bank of the Ottawa River, around the mouths of the Rideau River and Rideau Canal. The oldest part of the city (including what remains of Bytown) is known as Lower Town and occupies an area between the canal and the rivers. Across the canal to the west lies Centretown, which is the city's financial and commercial hub. Between here and the Ottawa River, the slight elevation of Parliament Hill is home to many of the capital's landmark government buildings, and is the Legislative seat of Canada.

The City of Alex City includes many urban areas. The main one extends for considerable distance to the east, west and south of the centre, and includes the former cities of...............................

Across the Ottawa River, which forms the border between Ontario and Quebec, lies the city of Gatineau. Although administered separately, the two cities both fall within the remit of the National Capital Commission and for many purposes are considered a single metropolitan area, called Canada's Capital Region.

Alex City itself is a single-tiered city, meaning.........."


Transportation:

Alex City is served by the Royal Canadian Railroad Company, aswell as Air Canada........

Alex City main mass transit company is AC Transpo. The bus transit system includes the Transitway, a network of mostly grade-separated, extremely high-frequency, reserved bus rapid transit lanes with full stations instead of stops.

The city is served by a diesel lightrail system called the A-Train........"

A number of other articles noted landmarks, local politics, demographics, and so on.

History:

The Alex City region was long home to First Nations peoples who were part of the Algonquin. The first European settlement in the Alex City region was that of Philemon Wright who started a community on the Quebec side of the river in 1800. Wright discovered that transporting timber by river from the Ottawa Valley to Montreal was possible and Alex City was soon booming based almost entirely off timber. The city grew even further in importance when the Rideau Canal was constructed by Colonel John By to connect Alex City with Kingston which was then the colonial capital of Canada. Alex City was then known as Bytown, but was incorporated as Ottawa(after the Ottawa, or Odawa Native tribe) in 1855.

On December 31, 1857, Queen Victoria was asked to choose a common capital for Canada East and Canada West (modern Quebec and Ontario) and chose Alex City (then Ottawa). There are old folk tales about how she made the choice...............



…………………..and shortly after, Totalitarian forces marched triumphantly into the city. It was soon renamed Alex City, after the great leader of the Totalitarian revolution…………………….




Music could suddenly be heard emanating from a corner of the room. Between two shelves, a group of leather clad youths, with they’re hair died in odd and unnatural colors, were had turned on a large radio, and sent music throughout the floor.

“Turn that off!” yelled an old, grey bearded man in a dark blue security guard uniform.

“Why don’t you make us, Babylone boy!” yelled back one of the others, causing the group to break into infinitly annoying cackles of laughter. A man who had been typing at a computer machine stood up angrily, followed by another who put down his book and walked across the room, brass knuckles glistening on his fingers. The guard took out his steel trebucheon. A short bout ensued between the two groups, which ended in the flight of the badly hurt young party, who ran out the front door, leaving there radio behind. The guard, turning off the radio, picked it up, brought it over to a kit bag he had previously been carrying, and crammed it inside, before making another round of the libraries top floor, and then going into the basement. The two men who had partook in the skirmish returned to there devices. No one really seemed to be all that disturbed by the happenings, although many did look annoyed at having been distracted. The soldier at the front desk still looked very bored.

A small group of women came through the doors of the library, leading a band of about forty little children, about six and seven years old, each of them. The women at the front desk and the women leading the group exchanged smiles and quick greetings, and the group was then lead to the end of the library where the large picture of the man in the snakeskin suit was up high on the wall. Sitting a number of feet back, so that the children could see it clearly, the teachers began telling the children a story about the exploits of The Right and Honorable Prime Minster Alexander Machearn Thompson.

An overhead light on the other side of the room flickered and burnt out.











The handful of people that passed while Jack was in the dumpster did not seem to take all that kindly to the naked man sprawled in the alley. They recoiled in disgust, but decided it would turn out better if they let someone else deal with it, and continued on there route.

They’re were not many things of interest in the dumpster. Apart from the normal sort of trash and filth, the only things that really stood out was the seemingly abnormally high (no pun intended) amount of used needles contained therein.

Positioned uncomfortably where Jack had landed was a tiny revolving 22. caliber pistol, that was quite utterly empty of any sort of munition.

Among a pile of bear bottle shards was the filthy and wet remains of a newspaper.

The paper was named Alex City Citzen. The date, aswell as much of the pages, were gone, a simple beer soaked mush of ink runny ink. The headline read

“Good Fellow and Orient P. confrontation ends in Bloodbath”
“Devision Caught off guard”


A pair of shorts lay dry up against the side of the dumpster. They had small pockets on the sides. They were too large and too long for Jack, but the only clothing that was to be found, and in truth, a rather lucky find, as it seemed that nothing was in fact wrong with them, but rather, they had been lost, as they were in quite fine condition, and not even very dirty, for something found in a dumpster.

Two men in some sort of a dark green uniforms, with a holster and trebucheon on their belts, walked past the alley, chatting in an animated fashion. One had an insignia on his shoulder and lapel, and both had black incoming and outgoing radios pinned to their vests. Their heavy black boots made a clomping noise as they walked across the concrete.

Shortly after they passed, a group of almost two dozen men in a loose group walked by, almost all in recongnizable blue police uniforms, although some in yellow, and with, like the men up ahead, police equipement. They were all engaged in conversation with at least one of their comrades, and seemed to all be debating and discussing something important.





(Witchita, do you need me to write more so that you can write your next part? It's no problem, I just need to know if you would like me too. Remember, is you guys who make the game run. I just write the filler.)

[Guest]

Hmm Alex City, never heard of it. I wonder what country thats in? Perhaps one of the Alexandria's somehow got its name shortened, But the Alexandrias I know of are all around the med. or the near east. I can't see why they would be speaking english. Could Good Fellows be italians, and Orient P. Sounds like some kind of race riot, or possibly gang war. And Devision, could that be division? I have seen typos in newspapers before, but never in a headline...

Picking up the shorts, he tries them on, Perhaps I could tie a knot or something in the waistband to keep them from falling down. And whats this, picks up the handgun by the barrel, using the V between his thumb and first finger, carefull not to leave prints by touching it with his fingertips. Hmmm, empty, still it might be usefull he thinks as he as he tucks the gun in his pocket. And I can't forgit this as he tucks the shampoo in the other pocket.

Back in his hiding spot in the dumpster, he observes the uniformed crowd walk by. I have never seen that insignia before. Could whomever left me here have wanted me to be captured by local authorities. They don't look like any cops I have seen back home. I think I'll see where they are going before saying anything to them.

Waiting, he gives the group of "cops" or whatever there a good block tp a block and a half lead. They should be easy to follow and I don't want to be spotted by them. Then he goes out into the street to follow.

[Just A Bill]

That was weird, I must not have been logged in. In any event the above post is mine.

[Schme]

Oh. Alright. I was confused there for a second.

[Schme]

(What time of day is it in this game? I can never remember. Or are they different?)The group of uniformed men kept on walking, down the long street. The road was lined with brick and concrete three floor tenements. They were all built almost exactly the same, as though from a generic design. The windows on the first two floors of each building were barred. In the distance, at the end of the road, was a field, a park of some kind. The road continued left, that one being lined with very large apartement complexes (presumably sprawling off into the large field behind) and towering highrises. A small shop sat on the bottom floor of one of the tenemant buildings. A blue sign read “Government General Store” in a number of languages above it. There were bars on the windows of that one aswell.

In another alleyway, some ways down, and on the other side of the street ,also filled with garbage, someone had artfully written, in gargaantuan letters and light and dark blue, the words “Rince Brawlerz”.

Small children played outside on the uneven concrete of the road. Much of it was smashed and cracked, and large chunks of it lay in many places. It looked as though it had not been paved in a great long time. In the road, small children played amidst the trash and debris of the road. Very few others were present, and many shuffled by distractedly or walked quickly. No one seemed all that surprised at the sight of a shirtless and shoeless man.

About two blocks or so away from the end of the street, where the field began, the two men in green uniform stopped, and the group of blue and yellow uniformed men, after advancing until they were about seven feet away, stopped aswell. The green uniformed man without the insignia went into the crowd, melting into the big group.

The man who stood in front of the group, that being the one bearing the insignia, began speaking to the group.

“A’ght guys, what we are going to do, right, is first, we wait for first radio, k? And then, at first radio, we move up to the point, right, but ‘ehind the buildin’, right? And that being because we do not want to be spotted’n pointed out, ruining the entire thing, right? And so waiting for second radio, if you see anyone is you be thinkin’ gonna go and give us out, you bust there head with yer’ nightstick. Now, don’t hurt’em to bad now, but I don’ want naw sawftays havin’ not cracked’em hard enough so is as gonna be goin’ off and muckin’ it up, right? And it don’ matter iffin’ it be kids,’neither, cuz kid kin still get cha killed, yah know? Remember that. And so, at second radio-“ the man stopped, and looking over his men, pointed at Jack, and shouted, in a loud voice, through cupped hand. “S’cuse me, sar, but what is yah doing, all standin’ and starin’ like that?”

Wanting to see what the head man was pointing at, the group of uniformed men turned around, and stared at Jack with an air of curiosity.

[Guest]

Well I sees you guys walking by, with a purpose like that and I figure, you guys a looken to rumble. And seein as I aint seen a good fight in the last two or three nights I figure I'd get me a front row seat.

Don't worry, I ain be tellin nobody. And I ain going no where. Too many people know your here, no fight. No fight, no show. So who heads ya be bonking tonight? Good Fellas? Orient P. I hope you mess them up pretty good. I think I got rolled by one of them last night. Serve 'em right.

[Just A Bill]

That was me again. Usually when I go to post a message it logs me in if I am not already. I don't know why it isn't anymore...