[Forum Game] Bergwald

[Pelopius3]

Name: Maximilian Von Shulze

Age: 38

Culture: German

Family: Father (Deceased), Mother, Wife (Estranged)

Location: Bergwald slums

Bio: The son of an impoverished but ambitious minor landowner, Maximilian received as good an education as a member of class could hope for as a child, but in his adolescence became more interested in exploring the mysterious underworld of his home city than pursuing his schoolwork, only occasionally visiting his school to humour his ailing father despite possessing a keen intellect. As he grew older, he spent less and less time on his family's farm, instead going into the urban slums of Bergwald, where he quickly gained a reputation for being a clever con-man and a dishonourable brute. At the age of 19 he was found by a petty noble in the bedroom of his daughter, and as such found himself persona non grata in Bergwald, with a price on his head. In exile he travelled through Europe, finding work first as a petty criminal and then in the employ of some of the continent's most notorious gangsters, his charm, head for figures and capacity for violence making colossal amounts of money for his patron's brothels and numbers rackets. It was there that he met Clara, a Parisian burlesque dancer who he would marry and then abandon. As the 1920's dawned, Maximilian, upon hearing of the death of the nobleman who put a price on his head, decided to return home and forge a criminal empire of his own rather than work for others, and maybe even enter into the political landscape of his homeland. So now, with nothing to his name but a full wallet, a switchblade and an expensive overcoat, Maximilian dreams of making a name for himself in the land of his birth.

(Not sure if I'm still able to sign up, figured I might as well see what happens).

 

[Dadarian]

Name: Maximilian Von Shulze

Age: 38

Culture: German

Family: Father (Deceased), Mother, Wife (Estranged)

Location: Bergwald slums

Bio: The son of an impoverished but ambitious minor landowner, Maximilian received as good an education as a member of class could hope for as a child, but in his adolescence became more interested in exploring the mysterious underworld of his home city than pursuing his schoolwork, only occasionally visiting his school to humour his ailing father despite possessing a keen intellect. As he grew older, he spent less and less time on his family's farm, instead going into the urban slums of Bergwald, where he quickly gained a reputation for being a clever con-man and a dishonourable brute. At the age of 19 he was found by a petty noble in the bedroom of his daughter, and as such found himself persona non grata in Bergwald, with a price on his head. In exile he travelled through Europe, finding work first as a petty criminal and then in the employ of some of the continent's most notorious gangsters, his charm, head for figures and capacity for violence making colossal amounts of money for his patron's brothels and numbers rackets. It was there that he met Clara, a Parisian burlesque dancer who he would marry and then abandon. As the 1920's dawned, Maximilian, upon hearing of the death of the nobleman who put a price on his head, decided to return home and forge a criminal empire of his own rather than work for others, and maybe even enter into the political landscape of his homeland. So now, with nothing to his name but a full wallet, a switchblade and an expensive overcoat, Maximilian dreams of making a name for himself in the land of his birth.

(Not sure if I'm still able to sign up, figured I might as well see what happens).

((You're more than welcome, orders due Tuesday the 6th. Welcome and I hope you enjoy Bergwald!))

 

[Dadarian]

((Orders due tomorrow, get 'em in))

 

[Keinwyn]

The musings of Charlotte Köhler
​

My brother left home when I was eleven. Bereft of my foremost champion in petty tantrums against our father, there was little I could do but sulk. Nevertheless the years passed, rumours of the war rumbled from the far-flung edges of Europe, Bergwald turned, I grew up, and father’s health deteriorated.

It was in this time that I became subject to the unwelcome attentions of a one Herr Blos; foreman and, in the twilight of my dear father’s years, de-facto head of our family construction business. I despised everything about that man, from his pudgy little fingers, his thick wet lips that sucked in food to satisfy his disgusting appetites, sloppily shaved jowls, and his predilection for the foulest tobacco I have ever smelt.

He was on occasion invited to dine with us by father, however as the latter became increasingly bedridden, Blos invited himself far more frequently than he was welcome. His intentions in regards to me, much to my disgust, soon became apparent. It was necessary, he explained, to secure the future of the business, to lay my father’s mind at ease in regards to my future well being and, therefore, the best course was for us to be wed. This was a prospect so unappealing, so far away from any sort of romantic ideal that it unlocked thoughts that should, truly, never have come into existence.

The idea that slithered into my mind and whispered that it might not be so bad to entertain the possibility of the untimely disappearance of Herr Blos held an intoxicating appeal, only heightened when I considered that I could not possibly be alone in desiring such. Before, my dear readers, you level your accusations at me I must protest that my infantile fantasies did not extend to murder foul, merely the happy erasure of his existence from my immediate world. It was but a naive young girl’s desire to have the world bent at her whim.

If you pause to wonder why my flights of fancy did not, as occurs for so many of my age and sex, tend towards a desire for a knight-errant, a mysterious and heroic suitor who might sweep me away from the grasping, pudgy fingers of Herr Blos, It is because the object of my girlish obsessions was not suited to play this particular part. Nevertheless, I cannot pretend to have experienced anything other than joy at the sudden reappearance of my errant brother, bedraggled and reeking of the unsavoury. Whilst I will not claim that dear Alois remained unchanged by the years away, he continued to treat me as he always had, and I remained, as ever, his darling sister; preeminent object of his affection and the apple of his eye.

Surely fault for any misadventures in which Alois had been caught up could be laid at the feet of that reprobate of a friend he hand managed to pick up. Viktor Kafka was a glowering and silent man who looked as though he knew where your valuables were kept and how to access them. The sole stain upon our fraternal reunion, I paid him little heed. It was somewhat to my consternation therefore that Alois insisted the Kafka man should stay with us as an honoured guest.

Returning then to Herr Blos, in light of his sudden and unexplained disappearance, and the subsequent discovery of a bloated corpse bearing a striking resemblance to the same, I can profess that I feel no discontent. Unfortunately, however, I must exclaim surprise at its occurrence and can be of little use in determining its origins or perpetrators.

 

[Dadarian]

((GM Note: I got 5 sets of orders. That's not enough to do an update. Those of you that didn't send orders, send orders.

This isn't dead, it's just Frosh week at uni.))

 

[Harpsichord]

((Oh bollocks for some reason I thought they were due today. Well I'm sending them today anyway))