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Topics - Gentlemanriot

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The Docks / Mercenary: Gentlemanriot
« on: June 01, 2013, 05:41:14 am »
Need a gunner? Of course you do.

I'm handy in a pinch and deadly on your guns. Give me a Gatling and I'll make her spit hot death into your enemies hull. Hate engines? Let my mercury long shots do the talking. Need them in the dirt? Let me lumberjack the hell out of that balloon for you.

Now I know what your thinking...why would I take a gunner only when I could just take an engineer. Well my answer is this: Your face is stupid. Also my load-outs adjust for aim, bullet drop, ammo type and enemy vectoring. Pretty spiffy eh?  And I'm pretty good at slapping around engines when needed.

( And if dire I can grab my tools but to reiterate I'm better as a dedicated gunner.)

Do I have a mic? Boy do I. I call out enemies and fire direction for the rest of the crew so the captain can focus on flying. It's a win win. So hit me up if your in the market for a gunner. 

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The Cantina / The Smirking Revenge
« on: June 01, 2013, 05:25:06 am »
Oi! Lad sit down and have a seat let Ol' Mr. Riot have werds with ye.  Ye have the look of a lost skyjack in the fog of Avaduar. Yer a brave lad boyo fer steppin on that swaggerin merchant vessle ull trusted up in her Sunday best. Flyin colors and sittin about full of riches for some far of destination. Let me tell ye a thing er two about the sky's ye be treadin.

Ah! That be a fine grog.

Hey! I said sit down or ye be hobbled good by the bit o'iron in my waist coat. Now where wus I? Oh, yes! She's bound fer Farspire out in the Dune Sea ain't she? Them Manticores she be barin ain't just fer show either, and with good reason. That be the Smirking Revenge's territory.

What?! Ye never heard of her? The scourge of skies? The bird of prey? The cold wind of doom? Green is what ye be lad, yer lungs still full of yer air from home. But mark me words well, boyo. Markem!  When ye hear the zipper sound of her twin gatlings upon ya, ye best be makin for a shute or yer prayers, for the Revenge's mercy don't come cheap. Her captains a madman, threw up from the bowls of hell itself and the crew is little more than a band of bastard skyjacks wut want for a mothers love.

Ye look at me like I seen the devil himself. Well I has and she be flyin the Roger as quick as ye like. Then when she be dun toyin with yer soul, he vanishes like like a squid in a fire fight, cacklin all the way back unto the Abyss.

Ye don't believe me? Go on and ask yer Captain why he's loadin 22 barrels of kerosene. He's lookin to outrun  but he's a fool just weighing down his own noose. He's catchin a case of hill disease out in them dunes and ye be joinin him as sure is sure, lad.

So ye go ahead and join up with that pretty lot and ye have a merry old time tendin to the fruit trees and scrubbin decks, I'm sure ye bemakin a good amount o'swag fer all that. Make yer mother proud ye will. Go...step upon yer coffin like a good lad, Or....ye kin join me on the Revenge, make yer mark, spit upon yer hands and raise the black flag. At least with us, ye kin laugh all the way to hell on the right side of a gun.

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