NSWRPF Archive Algernon Pfepphel-Smith and the Legend of the Sunless Hour!

Discussion in 'Non-Star Wars Role Playing Archive' started by Cromwell90, Apr 7, 2009.

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  1. Cromwell90 Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Feb 2, 2009
    "Target at 2 o'clock."

    The leading bi-plane swooped low over the Saharan desert, maneuvering to face the setting sun. It's open cockpit gleamed in the last rays of light, as Algie Pfepphell-Smith gazed over the side of his trusty steed - eyes searching for the make-shift runway.

    Shadows danced across the parched stones (weathered heavily by the elements, but never by human activity), as a small flotilla of whirring propellors fell into formation behind the leading craft.

    As last light faded, the Sun seemed to scan the sides of those biplanes with unhidden interest - searching for a national insignia or crest. It found none. Rolling into the ancient, sullen Tunisian village were the few, yet renowned, pilots of Algie Pfepphel-Smith's Magnificient Airborne Envoys.

    An adventure is afoot!

    Welcome to an RPG of Action, Adventure and Mystery Gathering their information from sources unknown, this alliance of private, airborne investigators has emerged once more. A sound like giant, grinding gears beneath the desert floor will lead this small band of adventurers into the 'Un-entered Valley of Khartoum', and finally into a battle fought both in the skies, and beneath the earth. Enemies will emerge from this world, and from one never before expected.

    In order to keep up with the action of this event, Algernon will rely on the help of his fellow pilots in the 'Airborne Envoys': Elderly Scholars? Daring and inventive combat Aces? Explorers who prove their worth on the ground, and beneath it?
    It's you decision! Your contributions will both direct the game, and determine who lives and dies as the action and plot-twists unfold.


    Rules: Even in the air, there are some.
    1. PM your character for approval, before posting.
    2. No God-modding.
    3. Quality over Quantity. Don't say in 50 words what you can say in 10. Check that your posts make sense, and aren't full of spelling errors. To keep the game moving, and promote quality, each post should be no longer that 200 words. You can obviously still focus on the same topic in your next post, but take on board what others have added!
    4. Feel free to lead the game into interesting directions, (within reason). Don't kill others without their consent. I will be regularly unfolding new plot developments 'in game.'
    5. PM me if you'll be out of action for a while - I'll add it into the story.
    6. Have a great time! This should be fun!

    Character Sheet:
    The Setting is 1920s Africa. Most characters should fly their own planes, though 1 or 2 can be passengers. 2 villains are needed at this early point in the game - they'll take action very soon!

    -Type of Plane you fly (mostly small, one player may pilot a twin-engine supply craft. Doesn't have to be real or researched, just realistic):
    -Main Skills (ie. Translating codes, Tracking/Survival in the Wild, Cobbling together new gadgets, 'Ace' air-combat pilot, etc.):
    -Brief visual description:
    -Secret desires/motives/plans (might be secret to all, or only known to a few characters):
    -Personality: (Please don't give a long backstory - this can be shared as needed. Simply state what you might know about them if they were a relatively new friend).
    - Villain or/and 'Airborne Envoy':

    I'm looking forward to your input! Let the game begin!

  2. Cromwell90 Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Feb 2, 2009
    -Name: Algernon Pfepphel-Smith
    -Gender: Male
    -Aircraft: Fighter Bi-plane. Bomb rack removed, but still has limited fuel capacity, due to the fact that it has been modified to drop supplies via parachutes.

    -Main Skills: Medium/Good Fighter Pilot, Excellent Strategist. Very Good at persuasion, and talking his way out of dangerous situations.
    -Weakness: Finds it hard to make compromises, or give up when things are going badly.
    -Brief visual description: Usually dressed in flying suit, with flying goggles and neck-tie.
    -Secret desires/motives/plans: Leads 'Airborne Envoys' for adventure, and to defend the weak against oppressors. However, also desperately needs a way to service his crippling debt, from a failed expedition 3 years ago.
    -Personality: Upbeat and friendly. He appreciate people doing things properly - like pouring tea through a strain, even in the middle of the desert! He expects all the 'Envoys' to risk their lives for each other when neccessary.
    - Villain or/and 'Airborne Envoy': Leader of 'Magnificent Airborne Envoys.'
  3. Anyara Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Apr 14, 2006
    star 4
    GM approved!

    -Name: Liusaidh Mac-an-Toisich (would be spelt Louisa Mackintosh in standard English, but she insists on the Gaelic).
    -Gender: Female.
    -Type of Plane you fly: Sopwith Pup.
    -Main Skills: a reasonable pilot, specialising in landings in poor territory; well-versed in archaeology, geology, and the chemical sciences.
    -Weakness: terrified of large spiders; her impatience with tomfoolery can lead to the occasional social upset.
    -Brief visual description: petite; stereotypical Scottish colouring; usually wears a shirt and divided skirt on the ground, but replaces the skirt with trews for flying.
    -Secret desires/motives/plans: in the Airborne Envoys for the adventure, and the hopes of finding terribly interesting things in remote places.
    -Personality: intensely curious about the world in general, determined, sometimes to the point of being stubborn, and doesn't suffer fools gladly; quick of tongue, and dry of wit. Tougher than she looks.
    - Villain or/and 'Airborne Envoy': Airborne Envoy.
  4. Cromwell90 Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Feb 2, 2009
    Any other takers? It should be good, if we can get a few more players.
  5. Cromwell90 Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Feb 2, 2009
    OOC: Hi all! After your characters are posted...so it begins!

    The dust of a new land sprang up, as Algie-Pfepphel Smith jumped down from his Sopwith Salamander and into the harsh sun of Algeria.
    He smiled wryly as each of the Airborne Envoys taxied in around him.
    "The tribal chief, King Doraino, should be in that central building," suggested Algie. "No idea why he hasn't come out to meet us, I hear he has an excellent story to tell!"
    Taking only his wallet, Algie set off down the runway, towards the cluster of mud huts at its end. The rest of the Envoys began to follow, snatching a few items from their cockpits as they strode.
    The dull air hung disappointedly...stagnant and still in the absence of the songs and celebration that would normally have greeted a new arrival. The doorway into Doraino's home was shadowed."Hello old chaps? Anyone in?", cried Algie. He wheeled around to face the Envoys. "Where the heck could they be? Is there some sort of closing-down sale on nearby?"
    Suddenly a clenched fist emerged from the shadows behind Algie, falling quickly towards him. Algie leapt to the side with only millimetres to spare and watched as the body of an unconcious Algerian slumpt to the floor, outside the tribal hut. From out of the African's palm rolled a stunning golden cup.
    Algie splutterred...nodding, as Liusaidh stared in astonishment. "The Royal Chalice of the Ottomans! ...Someone has arrived before us."

    Barely had the words cleared his parched lips as a shot rang out, ricocheting off the shining goblet between Algie and the fallen Algerian.
    "Get behind something!" shouted Algie, as he glanced at the clifftop above them. Where was the gun-man hiding?
    "Watch out people!"

    Tag: Anyone (You may want to explain your character a bit more...as they dodge bullets!)

  6. Fanficfan Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Jul 12, 2005
    star 3
    Cromwell Approved

    -Name: Lachlen Verraten
    -Gender: Male
    -Type of Plane you fly: Dark blue Fokker D.VII (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fokker_D.VII)
    -Main Skills: Night flying, anything that goes boom!
    -Weakness: Dogfighting, hand-to-hand combat.
    -Brief visual description: Short and stocky but otherwise very plain. He has dirty blond hair and brown eyes. Could hail from pretty much any ?Western? race (i.e. America, England, Western Europe) but says he is from Britain
    -Secret desires/motives/plan: On the run from the Royal Air Force after deserting (with a captured plane) towards the end of the War
    -Personality: Very easy going and laid back. Has a fun sense of humour but knows when to play it straight. Relative new-comer to the ?Envoys?
    - Villain or/and 'Airborne Envoy': Airborne Envoy

  7. Fanficfan Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Jul 12, 2005
    star 3

    Well, this is a bother. Lachlen thought as he ducked around the side of the hut, hoping it put him out of the line of fire. It?d be a real pain to have made it this far only to take a stray bullet.
    ?Bugger this,? he muttered as he readied his rifle, not that he was very good with it, and chanced a quick look around the far side of the hut to try and spot their assailant.

    Tag: Cromwell90

    OOC: Not sure how much you want to control things like spotting/shooting enemies. Should our attacker be easy to see?

  8. Morkai Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Mar 29, 2005
    star 3
    GM: Approved

    Name: Cameron Smith
    -Gender: Male
    -Type of Plane you fly (mostly small, one player may pilot a twin-engine supply craft. Doesn't have to be real or researched, just realistic): sopwith camel
    -Main Skills Tracking/ survival, expert horseman/soldier, experienced but reckless fighter pilot
    -Weakness: headstrong, has a habit of leaping before he looks, doesnt think much through
    -Brief visual description: 5'8 tanned, short brown hair, muscular, deep scar down the right side of his face, nearly perpetual ckeeky grin
    -Secret desires/motives/plans (might be secret to all, or only known to a few characters): is out to see as much of the world as possible, trying to outrun bad memories
    -Personality: served in the ANZAC corps with the Australian lighthorsemen in gallipoli, egypt and the western front before transfering to the Australian Flying Corps, larconic and laid back, little to no respect for authority unless they earn it, seems to be of the opinion 'when in doubt charge!'
    - Villain or/and 'Airborne Envoy': Airbourne Envoy "looks like fun mate!"
  9. Cromwell90 Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Feb 2, 2009
    OOC: Feel free to make decisions about where the gunman is (etc.) yourself. How the story develops should be somewhat collaborative. Cheers!

  10. Morkai Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Mar 29, 2005
    star 3
    IC: Cameron Smith

    Cameron strolled along after Algernon as they entered the village, his Lee-Enfield held lightly in his tanned hands. An errant gust of stagnant air caused the bottom of his leather flying jacket to flutter lazily in the heat as his knee length cavalry boots kicked up dust. He gazed around the village and shrugged his shoulders "Lovely place for a holiday" he quiped, then the Algerian nearly fell on Algie, Cameron moved past Algie and Liusaidh as they gasped over a flashy cup that fell out of the mans hand. Cameron knelt and checked the man as he lay in the rough hewn doorway "Hes been done over pretty bad Algie" he said as he straightened and turned to face the others. As the shot rang out Cameron swore under his breath and dived over a short wall, rolling back to a knee he brought his Lee-Enfield rifle up to his shoulder in a smooth experienced motion. "Where the bloody hell are you you cheeky bugger?" he muttered to himself as he scanned the surrounding area, there, a flicker of movement off to the right. His breathing slowed as he took a sight picture, he squeezed the trigger and his shot rang out across the dusty air.

    TAG: All
  11. Cromwell90 Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Feb 2, 2009
    Algie ducked into the Tunisian King's throne room, as another bullet cracked into the dried mud above the doorway. Ignoring the signs of a scuffle within the building he glanced out of a thin window with his eyeglass. He soon spotted the reflection from the sniper's telescopic sight, glinting from the top of a rocky plateau about 500 metres from the runway. Algie frowned as he watched Cameron's shots kick up dust around the partially camouflaged sniper. "This is a bad start to the day" he muttered. Their assailant was positioned amongst a scattering of dusty boulders - neither Lachlen nor Cameron would stand much chance of hitting him from the ground. And, for all the Envoys knew, the gunman may have radioed for back-up...there was no reason such a proficient killer would be alone in the desert.

    Algie shouted out the doorway, to the rest of the team - taking cover and loosing shots with mounting frustration.
    "The only way to get him off our backs is to take to the air. One or two of you need to reach the planes...soon!"
    Another bullet had just rushed close past Algie's face, it seemed there were at least two sniper watching from the mountain!
    "I'll create a diversion, get ready to leg it chaps!"

    Skidding back into the whistling throne-room, Algie leapt up the wooden staircase and into a storeroom of supplies. Amidst a pile of desert trekking gear stood numerous barrels of aircraft fuel, deposited by an American ally a few week earlier. Algie ripped his hankerchief from his pocket and immersed it in a large can of petroleum. Then, stuffing the sodden white cloth into the hole at the top of the fuel-drum, he began to push it towards the window ahead of him, veins within his forehead demonstrating the pressure of the moment. "Some fireworks to mark our safe landing?", cried Algie from the window. He had no idea if any of his fellow pilots had been injured, below.

    With a flick of his cigar lighter Algie ignited the hankerchief that stuck out from the barrel's lid, and sent the entire perilous invention flicking through the dry air, out of the window and into the sandy dunes below...where it began to roll, losing momentum rapidly. Running to the back window of the house, Algie prepared to give the signal to his comrades below.
    Yet, as he was halfway across the room he felt the back of his jacket press against him from the force of a thunderous explosion in the desert sand, and light and smoke billowed in to join the streams of sand now spinning in the room.

    Tag: Anyone

    OOC: Feel free to write more than 200 words if you want, from now one. Just keep it on topic and fairly interesting. Cheers.
  12. Fanficfan Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Jul 12, 2005
    star 3

    Lachlen heard Algie yell something about making a diversion so they could get to their planes. Great idea... Assuming we don?t get shot on the way... he thought to himself.
    He leaned around the building to fire off a shot just in time to see Algie?s ?diversion? drop from the up-stairs window.
    ?Oh no...? Lachlen groaned as he spotted the flicker of flame at the top of the fuel drum. He turned and sprinted to get as much building between him and the ?diversion? as possible, throwing himself to the ground just as the roar of the explosion boomed across the desert.
    He stayed down for a five count, keeping his eyes scrunched up against the scratching sand and his arms over his head in case part of the building fell on him, then he was up and running as fast as he could for his trusty bi-plane.

    Tag: Cromwell90, Morkai
  13. Anyara Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Apr 14, 2006
    star 4
    OOC: My apologies to everybody for taking so long to get a reply up. I've just moved house, and had no Internet for a while. Please forgive the length of post as well: I've a bit of catching-up to do!

    IC: Liusadh

    Liusadh grabbed her satchel, then leapt from the cockpit of her Sopwith Pup, shading her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun. She followed Algernon down the runway, silently cursing the dust borne on the breeze. The complete lack of sound and movement from the huts was a little diasppointing - surely they couldn't all be napping at this hour? Algie had been so certain they'd be met the chief and his people, excited to see visitors.

    The figure that emerged from the shadows, apparently intent on hitting Algie made her grab for a rock by her feet, ready to hurl the improvised missile if Algie's attacker should mean to do him serious harm. As Algie jumped aside, the man's continued, uncontrolled movement put the lie to that assumption. Whoever he was, he obviously wasn't in a fit state to attack anybody, let alone do Algie any damage. Then the gleam of gold rolled from his palm.

    Liusadh gaped at the chalice. An archaelogical treasure, in apparently perfect condition! Any other thoughts she may have had were abruptly cut off with the sound of a shot. Reacting on instinct, she hit the deck. She squirmed behind a low mud-brick wall, reaching for her pistol and spitting dust. Where was the devil . . . . ? There! A movement in the rocks! Her pistol hadn't the range for this. All she could do was keep her head down, her eyes open, and her ears sharp.

    "The only way to get him off our backs is to take to the air. One or two of you need to reach the planes...soon!" That sounded like an order to Liusadh. She wasn't doing any good here, and while her Pup had only a 0.303 Vickers gun, it could turn on a dime - much better suited to this type of job than a larger, less manouverable airframe. "I'll create a diversion, get ready to leg it chaps!" If she knew Algie, that meant trouble. She got her legs under her, then left the cover of the wall from a textbook sprinter's start, racing for her plane. She scooped up the chalice on the run, dropping it into her satchel: whoever was shooting at them, she wasn't going to let them take this. They'd probably drink bad whisky out of it, when it deserved to be in a museum!

    She glanced behind her at the word 'fireworks' . . .then threw herself face-down in the dirt again. As soon as the echoes of the explosion had faded, she was up and running again. She flung herself into the cockpit, kicked in the Le Rhone engine, and got the Pup turned away from the gunman, blessing the short take-off requirements of her plane. Within minutes, she was over the cliff.

    TAG: Anybody
  14. Cromwell90 Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Feb 2, 2009
    Algie glanced up from the wooden floor of the store-room - admittedly relieved to find the world bereft of any raging fires or ominous screams. "Of course it would work. Nothing to worry about!" Crouching to avoid the sniper fire (that appeared to have increased in frequency) he moved to peer out of the nearest window.

    Opaque, black smoke was billowing across the runway, obscuring everything from the tribal village to the Envoy's stationary planes. Yet in the remote expanse of myriad sand dunes, sound still traveled with incredible clarity. Algie smiled as he heard the familiar noise of a Sopwith engine revving. At least one Envoy had taken off!
    He spun on his heels quickly and began riffling through the other objects in the Tunisian monarch's store-room. Everything he had requested was there: Oxygen tanks and parachutes, thick-bound piles of reference notes and even a few unique treasures...the spoils of previous campaigns which could come in handy on this latest expedition.

    Algie gazed out of the window once more, noticing that the sniper fire seemed to have lessened momentarily. He had no way to know what had become of the other Envoys, or who was in the air. Yet he ardently hoped that his colleagues would be able to discover something about the assailants who had so rudely interrupted this perfectly promising morning.

    Tag: Anyone

    OOC: Good job everyone so far! Feel free to make bold and definitive directions about what is happening, in your posts. I'll enjoy responding to your ideas, and don't mind at all if the story diverges from what I'd expected (as long as its somewhat imaginative and interesting). Cheers! Unfortunately I won't be posting again for the next week. Feel free to move things forward in my absence. After all, I'm just browsing in a store room.

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