Blades in the Dark - Dark deeds in a dirty city.

WAR IN CROW'S FOOT ESCALATES. VISCOUS GANG WAR PROMPTS CALLS FOR DISTRICT WIDE LOCKDOWN.

"MORE MEN NEEDED." SAYS DISTRICT SERGEANT LOCHLAN.

INCREASED GHOST ACTIVITY IN DUNSLOUGH. SPIRIT WARDENS AT HEIGHTENED ALERT.

"All is well." says Warden spokesperson.

LORD SCURLOCK RUMOURED TO MAKE FIRST PUBLIC APPEARANCE IN TWENTY YEARS.

"Lord Scurlock is unavailable for comment at this time."

Hello all! First PbP in a long time and first one on Myth Weavers so please be merciful! Hoping to run a season or so of Blades in the Dark and see where we go from there. Season should include a fair few scores and hopefully a gang level up or two.

I'm planning on using a few of the rules from the Deep Cuts expansion, specifically the Threat Roll as I think it'll work better in this play by post format rather than the back and forth of the original risk/position rules.

As this is my first Play by Post, advice and leniency is appreciated.

"It doesn't matter how much coin yeh 'ave. All the soap in Akoros won't wash off the muck or hide the stink of what you've done."

It doesn't matter where in Doskvol you stand, from the desperate ghetto of Dunslough, to the blood soaked battle grounds of Crow's foot all the way to the lofty heights of wealthy Brightstone and quiet Charterhall, one truth remains constant;

Doskvol is a dirty city.

In the literal sense, soot and coal dust blacken the walls of industrial warehouses and packed tenement housing. The busy canals and ancient waterways are choked with waste, refuse and corpses, both animal and human. Multi-hued electro-plasm run off and the residue sheen of Leviathan blood seems to spill out from the docks, appearing to run uphill into the city to collect in strange, unnerving shapes and pools.

A thinning of the walls between reality and the ghost field.

And yet, the deeds of the wicked and villainous soil the soul worse than any soot stain. Murder, theft and the satiating of vices are traded in coin and life, and traded freely. The true dirt of Duskvol is found as much in the expensively furnished parlours of the wealthy and the humble, unassuming offices of the quietly powerful as they are in a Charhollow dive bar or a Crow's foot sitdown.

Doskvol is a pressure cooker, the lightning barrier hold out the monsters and ghosts of the Deathlands however such a shield comes at a cost. Not just the incredible supply of Electro-Plasm required to fuel the lightning towers but the constant sense of claustrophobia every resident of Doskvol exacts a toll of its own.

The cramped tension is felt especially keenly recently, with the rapid influx of refugess fleeing the war devastated land of Skovlan, heightening ethnic, cultural and class tensions.

Still, despite that, Doskvol is a vibrant city, a changing city of mixing cultures and advancing technology. Of crowded, lively taverns and drinking halls. Of exciting fusion cuisine and genre busting music.

The people might be varying degrees of dirty and desperate but most are not beyond redemption, most are content to keep their head down and weather the storm, whatever that may be.

You are not those people.

You are scoundrels. Exceptional members of The Underworld, unknown for now but destined to leave their mark on the streets of Doskvol.

Even if that mark is no more than a taped off section of the gutter as the Spirit Warden's remove your body.