Muse:Musette Playtest 1:Story Content

Step 5: Tell the Story

The story sheet is complete and available in the middle of the virtual table here: Muse:Musette Playtest 1:Story Outline Sheet. The Desire sheets have been created. Everybody draws an additional card. The changes are available here: Muse:Musette Playtest 1:Cards. Bob will start telling the story. Remember two important rules of thumb:

1. Keep Narrations down to 1-2 paragraphs if you can
2. People may interrupt on their turn, and this will basically allow them to go back and delete anything up to whichever point they wish in the previous narration.

---

It is dark, and the moon is in the sky. All is quiet in the vineyard until a column of armed men can be seen approaching. They walk with the march of soldiers. As the line of soldiers continues, the eye can't help but pierce the gloom and notice a strange detail. The local terrain is too difficult for tanks or even jeeps. This is why the soldiers walk. And yet, 3 of the soldiers struggle to drag a heavy wheeled cart. This cart contains 3 large cigar-shaped objects. Missiles, perhaps?

As the soldiers march onward, one of them approaches the leader and mutters a loud whisper, "Georg! The radio chatter... it sounds like the Russians have found us already and they've scrambled some helicopters!" Georg swears into the night. They only have a few kilometers left to go to reach shelter from eyes in the sky. And now the time for stealth is already past. For in the distance he can hear the sounds of helicopters chopping the air with their rotors.

I support No for Georg using a random card.

--Bob

Not too far away, standing in the cold night amidst grapevines heavily laden with fruit, a young woman shivers and wraps her arms around herself. Though she appears to be staring out into the darkness, Maria is actually probing the night with other senses, listening for sounds of men approaching, sniffing the wind to recognize the smell of kerosene or unwashed boots--she has been blind since birth. In the night breeze she strains to keep her teeth for chattering, not only from the cold, but also from worry, for the events of the last week seem to be moving closer and closer to her peaceful valley.

She has not chosen this particular farmstead arbitrarily--she knows that Georg will come by this road, and hopes to greet him with some hot milk and a bowl of freshly picked grapes. He should be here any minute, she thinks. I must convince him to stay, to lie low, while war and destruction erupts around us in the dark.

I'm supporting Yes for Maria, using a card from my hand.

--Paul

Quick, Georg, think! Georg thinks to himself. How do we get out of this alive? Georg collects himself mentally and turns to his lieutenant, "Tell the men to scatter. We will reassemble in 3 days on the usual channel. The package will come with me." The lieutenant nods and relays the order to the men, who double-time it in all directions. Luckily for Georg, he just remembered that an old flame of his lives in this valley. Quite nearby, in fact, if memory serves. The men lugging the missiles arrive next to Georg. "Where do we go now, sir?" one of the men asks. "Follow me! It's time for a drink with an old girlfriend of mine..." Georg replies. The two soldiers give each other a confused look and then quickly follow their captain.

I'm supporting Yes for Maria, using a random card.

--Jonathan

Surrounded by the hum of machinery, Yuriy rides in the Tactical Command unit of an armoured assault vehicle provided by American funds. Displays flicker around him, showing troop movements, radar scans, and the widening field of his command. The atmosphere is tense; Yuriy rides in silence, meditating, gathering his thoughts for the frantic moments that could ensue at any moment. His second-in-command, Bukhuti, normally a calm and controlled man, obliviously chews on his fingernails, the gentle chomping sound in stark contrast to the hum, whirr, and ping of the machinery around them.

The coming minutes, hours, or days--who could know?--threaten terrible, vicious fighting, brother against brother. Yuriy hates the prospect with every fiber of his being. Sitting here in this American vehicle, riding in stealth to carry out an attack on a people he shares family ties stretching back for centuries, he feels more like a traitor than a saviour. However, Yuriy has no choice: his daughter, Maria, is somewhere nearby. Against his tactical and strategic instincts, against his years of training and experience, Yuriy has decided to begin the attack in this area of Abkhazia. It is not a tactically sound choice, and it pains him that his men trust him too much to question it. But he does not feel that there is a choice in his heart: he must find Maria. His best efforts to do so have brought him nothing; but she cannot have left the immediate area of operations. Yuriy will find her.

I'm supporting Yes for Yuriy, using a random card.

--Terry

Maria is awoken in the middle of the night by a knock at her door. She gets up groggily, and puts out a hand to keep herself from falling. She must have fallen asleep while waiting for Georg again--that's three nights in a row. Or is it four? She rushes down the steps of her small farmstead and opens the door. The visitor speaks, "Hello, Maria, I need your help." It's Georg! she thinks, as her heart swells with emotion. She hadn't been sure if he'd accept her invitation, but it looks like her wait hasn't been in vain. Perhaps she can still stop this madness, this mutual genocide.

But soon her happiness turns to sorrow as her heart drops into the soles of her bare feet. There are others with Georg. "What's going on?" she asks. "What do you think?" Georg responds, "the Georgians are after us and now my men--my... friends--and I need to hide." Maria feels a cold chill go down her spine, confirming her earlier subconscious realization, things are already farther along than I had feared, she thinks--but there's still hope. "Come in Georg. Your... friends... are welcome too, so long as they can keep their guns to themselves."

I'm supporting No for Maria, using a random card.

--Bob

Bukhuti glances over at Yuriy. The General is sitting, seemingly calm, relaxed, yet his eyes betray some inner turmoil. I've followed this man for years, thinks Bukhuti. He's never let us down, his tactics, his decisions, impeccable, even in the heat of battle. But, now, why is he taking us here?

And that is when it all becomes clear to Bukhuti: his trusted leader, the brilliant General, has been bought out. The Americans have gotten to him. Or someone has. It's the only possible explanation. Bukhuti realizes he's been chewing on his nails. Shit!

With his left hand, he checks the pistol strapped to the inside of his boot. Ah, but what will that do? More likely, I'll have to call in some favours from years back, from my old Russian friends. My former cell-mates. Bukhuti shudders at the thought, a tremor running through his body he finds it hard to imagine Yuriy could have missed. Yet, still, the General looks straight ahead, seemingly trapped in his own thoughts.

I'm supporting No for Yuriy, using a random card.

--Paul

The door closes, and Georg lets out a shaky breath. That was a close one. He comes out of hiding and greets Maria, "Thank you... for what you did. You didn't have to protect us like that." Maria scoffs, "What? Some dog of a Georgian soldier knocks at my door at the crack of dawn and asks me if I've seen any strange men about, and you expect me to help him?" She smiles lazily. "I want a peaceful resolution to all this... but that doesn't mean I'm any friend of Georgia's."

Georg turns to look at his men. Typical of soldiers, now that the danger is gone they've dozed off again instantly. With Maria's help, the three of them together had taken the time to hide the missiles in the cellar last night--good enough to beat a casual inspection. Looking at his men, Georg has second thoughts about his plan for the first time since he hatched it. Stealing the nukes was easy--too easy. But is he willing to use them? Even against Georgia? And will his gamble cost him his men's lives? Or his own? Or Maria's?

I'm supporting Yes for Maria, using a random card.

--Jonathan

The full moon, a white beacon of stunning brightness, hovers in the sky, casting its spotlight glare over rolling hills, grasslands, and canyons. On a sandy ridge, exposed for a moment by that mystical light, a lone figures staggers through low, dry grasses and thorns. The man is unarmed, limping, his shirt soaked with blood. He has escaped death--for now--but if he is to stay alive, he knows he must keep moving.

Rushing across the ridge, his feet sliding frantically through the sand, he stumbles forward at a half run. He can hear the beat of Georgian 'copters not far away, streaking through the night, and some distant gunfire, explosions. Soon, they will be here. Below him, a darkened valley looms. The air hitting his nostrils is moist, soft, for the first time since he left his home two months ago. For a moment, he imagines he can smell wine.

At the very least, there are no sounds of war here. He needs to find some agent of resistance, some brave souls, if any be left, for he carries an important secret. Only an hour or so away, his unit lies decimated, bodies burnt, cars reduced to twisted metal, by a surprise attack. But he can do something yet, if he makes it through the night. Not far away, a series of caverns holds a cell of Russian soldiers turned terrorists, pirates. They are hungry, both for food and for blood. Maybe he can find some way to reach them, o organize some resistance to this surprise attack.

Below, a single light beckons. Stumbling through a vineyard, the man heads for this beacon.

I'm supporting Yes for Georg, using a random card.

--Terry

As the last tank round finds its home in the apartment building, the structure gives a shudder and half-crumbles to the ground. That's the last target, Bukhuti tells himself, finally. As a soldier, he's always found targeting civilians to be distasteful. This atrocity is the worst he's ever personally been involved in. Tanks shelling apartment building basements. Ambushes laid to blow up fleeing cars. By his count, he's murdered over a dozen civilians himself today.

Later that night, Bukhuti paces back and forth in his tent for close to an hour. His face is a roadmap of the conflict in his heart: what to do? Continue with this obvious madness, or help put a stop to it. What is Yuriy thinking? With or without American backing, these war crimes are not going to go unnoticed. Bukhuti finally makes his decision, and makes a call to his old russian cellmate Pyotr. Pyotr is ex-KGB and has some good connections. He can stir up the hornet's nest at the Kremlin with all due haste, and put a quick stop to this madness--and hopefully foil whoever Yuriy is working for at the same time.

I'm supporting No for Yuriy, using a random card.

--Bob

Even as Bukhuti makes his phone call, a group of soldiers stand outside, smoking American cigarettes. Dust collects on their uniforms: dust from crumbling buildings, homes destroyed, perhaps even ashes from the former inhabitants of those homes.

They are waiting, happy to have a brief rest, but confused as to why they're waiting here, out in the street, outside the town's mail office.

"The General's been in there for almost an hour."

"Aye. Must be checking his mail!" Awkward laughter.

"You think his wife sent 'im a pair of her panties?"

"Shut up, asshole. Gorya here is a known snitch--aren't you, Gorya?--and he's gonna take that straight to the General!"

The soldiers continue their chatter for a few more minutes. Inside, Yuriy sits at a desk, sorting through envelopes until he finds the one he was looking for. It's his own letter, to Maria, sent a week ago. It didn't get any further that this town, it seems, but someone's scribbled a different address on the envelope. It sounds like a farm, or an orchard, or something, not too far away. Yuriy has the local geography pretty much memorized: there's a steep cliff, riddled with caves, to the North, and then a deep valley. That's where this place would have to be, thinks Yuriy. Well, not much longer now. I'm coming, Maria.

I'm supporting Yes for Yuriy, using a card from my hand.

--Paul

As Yuriy's armored column advances into the valley, Bukhuti can't help but feel a bit of unease. This is a perfect ambush point... the General must know that... right? Or am I just being paranoid? No sooner than the thought passes through his head, Bukhuti hears--and feels--a sharp explosion as the vehicle ahead of him blows to pieces. Oh shit! But that can't be Pyotr's work, this is too soon! A look through the window confirms it--bandits. Well-armed bandits. Bukhuti doesn't have much longer to worry about this new development, as his vehicle is next on the chopping block.

Meanwhile, Yuriy is furiously screaming orders to his men. With two vehicles down and his first in command dead, this battle is not starting off on the right foot. Where in the hells did bandits get their hands on anti-armour weapons?

Meanwhile, an aide is in a meeting at the Kremlin. "Are you sure the source is credible?" asks the President. "Y-yes sir, Pyotr is one of our better agents, 83% accuracy." This combined with the other evidence, leads the president's thoughts to an inescapable conclusion. The president turns to his generals and distinguished cabinet members, and speaks, "Comrades, the Americans have gone too far this time. We are now at war with Georgia. Make Mother Russia proud!"

I'm supporting No for Yuriy, using a card from my hand.

--Jonathan

Georg stands on the doorstep of Maria's cottage, bandolier over his shoulder, an antique hunting rifle in his hand.

"Georg! Wait! The sun isn't even up yet!" Maria rushes down the stairs, moving perilously quickly, one hand on the banister, her skin picking up splinters from the uneven wood.

Georg turns around to face her, his face stern. Maria reaches the bottom of the stairs, her hands reaching out to grasp nothing but air, until she finds him.

"I've got millet I can boil, and fresh eggs..."

As her hands alight on the bandolier, she freezes, drawing her hand back as though it was burnt.

"Georg..." Her voice catches a little, pained. "No... Don't do this, my love. Please, I beg you. There is no need. The Russians will come, they're bound to, and you can't stop all this alone... no, please!" She sobs, her hands finding Georg's waist and pulling him towards her. "You don't need to do this. You can hide here, with me, it'll be safe..."

"You'd never understand. I have to do this, Maria." Georg pushes her back, gently, takes a step outside the doorjamb, glancing at his men, waiting outside.

"No! You can't... Georg, my father is leading those men. This isn't some boys' game... Aaah!"

Georg's face twists in anger. His right hand flies up suddenly, slapping Maria hard across the face. She falls to the floor, her shoulder slamming into the bannister, and gropes wildly for support, tears streaming from her eyes.

Georg slams the door and rushes out. His hands stings, more than he expected. Yuriy? Oh, damn. Shit. Goddamn it!

"What are you staring at, you louts! Let's move!"

I'm supporting No for Maria, using a random card.

--Terry

Awareness comes back slowly to Maria. How long has she been asleep? Or was it unconsciousness? What woke her up? She brings a hand to her face and feels how tender it is, and then her memory of Georg striking her returns with full force. It's almost as if she can feel the slap all over again, except this time the pain sends a dull ache through her heart as well as her face.

What was it that woke her up again? Oh... the cold. But the birds singing and the breeze blowing in through the door indicate that it's broad daylight outside, and the door is open. She realizes that she's still lying down next to the open door, with her nightgown gaping half open for the world to see. What's that smell? The darkness that's covering her... it's a shadow!

"Well hello there, love!" says a male stranger's voice, "what do we have here? A beautiful flower for me to pluck..." With a growing sense of horror, Maria can hear the laughter of several other men behind this one.

I'm supporting No for Yuriy (since there might not be much of his daughter left for him to save), using a random card.

--Bob

Around the same time, early morning, and not too far away...

Georg cheers as his stolen anti-vehicle rounds explode amidst the column of Georgian vehicles. His men, hidden in the bushes on the side of the valley, pass the binoculars back and forth, grinning and slapping each other on the back.

"We've got them surrounded," Georg says. "Time to go down there and ask them to stand down. Then, we deliver our ultimatum." He grins, and his men fall silent for a moment, then grin back, dirty faces shining with determination.

"Pack up the Little One. If they don't meet our demands, be ready to launch her upon T'bilisi. Georgia will pay a high price for this, one way or another."

I'm supporting Yes for Georg, using a random card.

--Paul

Yuriy wipes sweat off his brow. That was a close one. But fortunately his tactical brilliance won the day and saw him through that unexpected, but altogether predictable, ambush. Besides which, with those fancy American toys he'd been given he really couldn't lose. With amusement, he remembers how he had drawn out the bandits with a false surrender and then watched them writhe in pain after he triggered the amazing MIllimeter wave Pain (MIP) device. What a great toy--causes extreme pain to anyone caught in the invisible beam, at a range of over 100m. The bandits had been caught completely by surprise and then rounded up as POWs. I'll have a chat with their leader just as soon as I finish this awesome cigarette.

Yuriy is still smoking his victory cigarette when his phone rings. He picks it up--it's a picture message. What he sees makes his face go white as a sheet in an instant. His daughter, her face bruised, tied to a chair. The cigarette drops to the floor, unnoticed. When the phone rings a moment later, he jabs the "talk" button with the speed and ferocity of a panther...

Yuriy ends the call. Those bastards. I recognized where they were, they kidnapped my daughter in her own house. They also look like more of this bandit bunch. No telling how they connected her to me, time to go-- Yuriy is interrupted in his thoughts yet again by another phone call. He answers--this time it's Mission Control. "What?" he yells into the phone, "The Russian army is here already?" With a cry of rage he flings the phone onto his tent and rushes to speak with his new Major.

I'm supporting No for Yuriy, using a random card.

--Jonathan

Georg opens his eyes, gingerly. His eyelids are swollen, caked with blood. All he can see is dirty, dusty floor. Some dark blotches: his own blood, no doubt. As awareness returns, so does the pain. His arms, legs, ribs, his head--all pounding with intense pain, joints aching under the strain of being tied to a chair. Georg remembers the blow of the baton that sent him flying, knocking over the chair. I must've fainted. And they just left me like this. He is in some kind of cave, somewhere underground. It's cold and damp, though his body feels feverish. How did he get here? Ah, yes, the unexpected turn of events...

Did I talk? Are my friends safe? A moment of confusion as memory returns: slowly, too slowly. Georg begins to remember, and as he does, he feels a bit of pride, a touch of hope. My friends are safe, and so is the stolen warhead. I didn't rat them out! The bastards hit me too hard, too fast. Gradually, the rest of his mental abilities return as well, gears slowly spinning up, one thought after another running through his head, as though trying to reestablish its own ability to function.

Memory, however, is an unforgiving thing: the next thing Georg remembers is the temporary headquarters he was dragged through. On the wall, a map. A map with red markers all over it. Markers for ballistic strikes. One in particular looms in his mind: the one over Laz Kortu. Laz Cortu, that small ruin of a place. Laz Cortu: not a gang camp, not a rebel headquarters, not even a black market zone. Laz Cortu, where 300 of his family's and his friends' families' eldest, youngest, and least hale are hoping to weather the storm. A small gathering of the elderly, women, children, the infirm... and Georg's entire clan. His little sister, Nadja, barely old enough to walk...

Georg groans, twisting against the chair, and falls over on his side. The momentary pain almost causes him to pass out again. And the footsteps are approaching: they know he's awake.

I'm supporting No for Georg, using a random card.

--Terry

Tears stream down Maria's face. Her skin is bruised and purple. Her jaw is swollen and throbs painfully. Her mouth is gagged. No-one has done anything more than strike her... yet. But she knows that it's coming, and it terrifies her. Dmitri, the Russian bandits' leader, had told her everything--the whole plan. How they learned that she was Yuriy's daughter from a defecting Georgian. How they hatched the plan to kidnap her and distract Yuriy from the fighting, thus handing Russia an easy victory. Dmitri obviously has no intention of letting her live, and enjoyed seeing her suffer. Who knows when that twisted fuck will finally decide that it's time for his pack of dogs to have their dessert?

Maria is still thinking her gloomy thoughts when she hears two gunshots outside. Paf! Paf! She hears twin thumps as the guards outside slump to the ground. In spite of herself, she feels a glimmer of hope. Daddy? The hope fades away just as quickly, to be replaced by an ice hard diamond of fear. No, whatever you do, don't come in! The door opens, and Yuriy, her father, steps in, pistol in hand. Maria begins to shake her head wildly, willing him to not step inside, but it's too late. Yuriy hears a click as his booted foot lands on the floor, and freezes. Laughter can be heard from upstairs. A voice, speaking in Russian-accented Georgian, floats down from the second story, "Welcome, Yuriy, to your doom. I didn't believe that you would be so stupid as to come here yourself--and unaccompanied--but here you are... If you like seeing your daughter in one piece, I suggest that you don't move a muscle, because you just turned on the motion-detector that's strapped to all those explosives tied to your daughter..."

I'm supporting No for Yuriy, using a random card.

--Bob

Georg stumbles across sand and rocks, rubbing his wrists. He is technically still a prisoner, but the situation is no longer very clear. He is surrounded by some of his men, scraggly and covered in dust, as well as Georgian soldiers, decked out in suspiciously high-tech gear. He is no longer bound. They are taking him to Maria's cottage. Who is leading who?

The painful end Georg was steeling himself for had never come. The sounds of a door opening, a painfully bright light thrown across the dirt of the cave... and, suddenly, strong arms jad lifted him off the ground, removing his bonds. Though they had established military superiority, and occupied the valley, their command was upset. The men had pulled him out of the cave, and, to his, amazement, instead of interrogating him or shooting him, set him marching to this little homestead.

Georg understands that the situation will not get simpler from here: it seems that his strange newfound allies--those Russian terrorists, or whoever they are, hiding in those caves--have somehow managed to capture the Georgian general. Yuriy's men are taking him to this house, presumably to negotiate for his release. They think I'm the leader of these men, that they can just exchange me for their General, Georg realizes. His mind is searching frantically, however. At this moment, he cares little for Yuriy's fate. He needs to convince these men to save his people at Laz Cortu!

Georg eyes the submachine gun hanging at the side of the soldier on his left. If they don't listen to me, if they are not sympathetic to my cause, this could get messy...

I'm supporting Yes for Yuriy, using a card from my hand.

--Paul

As Georg approaches Maria's cottage, he can see a few bedraggled Russian bandits digging a grave. There are two bodies on the ground next to them, with a bedsheet draped over each. I hope those aren't friends of mine. Georg thinks, looking at the corpses. The erstwhile gravediggers turn to look at Georg and his escort--now only two Georgian soldiers with their weapons holstered. The rest of his men and the rest of the Georgians are hanging back about 300m away... at the maximum range for small-arms fire.

There are two more bandits standing guard outside the front door to the cottage. Georg and his guards are ushered inside with a sneer. The scene inside causes Georg's blood to freeze. It's Maria, bruised and beaten, tied up to a chair. She's tied back-to-back with someone else... Yuriy. Georg finds him easy to recognize even after all these years, thanks to all the newspaper photos. Unlike Maria, Yuriy seems uninjured. As Georg scans the room, he notes that there are 6 more Russian bandits in the main room. Dmitri, the Russian bandit leader, speaks--in Georgian. "Who is this?" The Georgian soldiers look surprised, but the taller one responds, "You said you wanted a prisoner exchange. This one is the leader of the bandits we captured not far from here..." The Georgian starts sounding a little less sure of himself, "He's one of yours... isn't he?"

Dmitri gives Georg a hard stare, Today is your lucky day, my friend, Dmitri thinks to himself, I don't know you, and you don't know me, but it seems like we're fighting on the same side and I can use all the help I can get with this double-cross... Still looking at Georg, Dmitri speaks only one word in Russian, "Duck!" For Georg, time slows to a crawl as he drops to the ground. All around him, things start happening very quickly...

I'm supporting Yes for Georg, using a random card.

--Jonathan

---

Here's a Time-Out explanation of what's going on from Jonathan:

Georg has just been freed and is being brought along by the Georgians to a prisoner exchange with the Russian bandits. The Georgians incorrectly believe that Georg is a Russian bandit--perhaps because of what he said during the interrogation? The Georgians intend to exchange Georg for Yuriy and his daughter.

Unfortunately, Dmitri, leader of the Russian bandits, has no intention of giving up Yuriy. Yuriy is the key to the whole war, and if he can stay captured, then Georgia is almost certain to lose without their great General. When Dmitri earlier contacted the Georgians to gloat, he was surprised to learn that they believed that they had Russian POWs. Curious to see what was going on (particularly since he had only lost 2 men so far, and they were definitely dead), he agreed to a prisoner exchange, already sure that he would double-cross the Georgians. The remainder of Dmitri's gang have set up an ambush around the spot where the rest of the Georgians and Abkhazi prisoners are stationed about 300m from the cottage.

So when Georg enters the cottage, Dmitri takes a look at him and sizes him up. Dmitri makes the connection that Georg must be an Abkhazi freedom fighter, and that at least for the length of this Russian-Georgian conflict, they are on the same side. Since Georg is obviously worth substantially less to Dmitri than Yuriy (who is probably worth millions of dollars to Dmitri when he sells Yuriy to Russia), Dmitri has no interest in exchanging the prisoners. Instead, he goes through with the double-cross, thinking that he can free the Abkhazis and count on their help against the Georgians.

(the Russians are "bandits", but really they're a group of independent special agents working on Georgian soil to destabilize the government. Kind of like privateers back in the Spanish-English war on the high seas)

---

The carnage and chaos that fills the next few moments leaves Georg stunned. The moment he hits the ground the door behind him bursts open with a kick and a hail of bullets cuts his two captors into pieces. Blood and guts, warm and sticky, spatter all over him. His ears are ringing, his eyes watery, and his whole body seems to betray him as he stumbles, careless and lost, through what can only be, in his mind, the very middle of a lightning storm in Hell.

A few moments later, as he slowly returns to his senses, he finds himself standing in the middle of the room. A moment of quiet. The Russian soldiers have already gone outside. There is a loud boom as a mortar shell lands nearby. A window shatters, sending splinters and shards of glass flying in all directions. I've got to keep moving! He thinks, and I need a weapon! In front of him are the two bodies of the fallen Georgian soldiers. Georg stoops to remove a pistol from a blood-stained belt.

Still sitting painfully still in his chair, is General Yuriy, his face grim but lacking focus. Behind Yuriy, Georg sees Maria, covered with bruises, her hair matted with sweat and her face streaked with dust and her own tears, tied to a chair. Georg's vision turns red as rage floods through his body.

"You son of a bitch!"

There's a pistol in his hand. He raises it, pointing it directly between Yuriy's eyes. Georg's face twists with rage. Amazingly, the General does not move, still as a statue.

Outside, another explosion rocks the small house. Shouting. Many sets of footsteps are approaching.

I'm supporting No for Maria, using a random card.

--Terry (with a few friendly adjustments from Jonathan for continuity)

"You! You're to blame for all this, you son of a bitch! You brought this fighting to Maria's doorstep, and you brought this war to Abkhazia! I'll kill you!" Rage is burning in Georg's veins, so hot that he is frothing at the mouth. But something about Yuriy's cold, impassive, stiff reaction makes him pause and listen to the man's quiet, stiff-lipped response.

"...am... sorry... don't shoot... must not move... motion sensor... explosives... if you kill me... Maria dies too."

"Don't you dare say her name you mother fucker!" Georg spits out.

But in spite of Georg's anger, he drops to the ground to investigate. Sure enough Maria has explosives strapped under her seat, and the detonator has wires leading to Yuriy's chair. Georg is shocked out of his rage just as if someone had splashed a bucket of ice cold water onto his face. Georg gets back up slowly and points the gun again at Yuriy, but this time his hand trembles and his face is creased with a frown of concentration. He can save Abkhazia... by sacrificing Maria and possibly himself. Maria... the only woman besides his mother that ever loved him.

Georg is still mulling this over when a figure runs down the stairs from the second floor. It's Dmitri, "What do you think you're doing?" he cries in outrage, "I spare your life and this is how you repay me?!?"

I am resolving Georg's desire!!: To unleash his fury on Georgia and drive it out of Abkhazia for good If Georg kills Yuriy, the war is over, regardless of what happens to him. And he won't even need to use the nukes.

Any interuptions? Or shall we continue with the revealing of the cards?

--Bob

Paul and Terry have no objections. Let's see them cards!

Jonathan wins the card contest against Terry, so it is now his turn

Georg stares at Yuriy's tired face, the will to kill him growing stronger with every moment. Then Maria awkwardly turns her head to look in his direction. The look on her face... it's indescribable. Longing, hope, fear, and horror--all rolled into one. Something breaks inside Georg, like the clouds breaking before the sun, and he lets his arms drop. He can't murder Maria. Fortunately, there is another option for stopping Georgia...

From the stairs, Dmitri says, "Good. Now, can I trust you to not fuck up my plans any further? I spared your life, now I expect you to mobilize your troops to help me out there. Can I count on you?" Georg looks him in the eye, and then nods. With a sigh of relief, Dmitri goes back upstairs.

Georg searches the cottage for a radio transmitter, finally finding one upstairs. Dmitri is there, pointing a sniper rifle out the window. There are two more Russians here, guarding Dmitri. At first they look worried when they see Georg, but he points to the radio and one of the guards nods an ok.

Georg begins hailing his younger brother, who is holed up with the rest of his family in Laz Cortu. Tense minutes pass by as he waits for a response. Finally, his brother answers the hail. Georg warns him about the imminent attack on Laz Cortu, and instructs him to help the Russians however he can. His brother, faithful as always, agrees.

With a shaky breath, Georg prepares himself for his last task. He hails the troops he left to guard the stolen nukes. Once he's reached them, and they've established identities, he gives them one command: "launch now." The soldier responds: "Are you sure, Georg?" Where before Georg's anger was hot like a volcano, by now it has simmered into a cold winter. Georg ponders the torture he endured, the threat against his family posed by Georgia, and the many men he's lost already thanks to this pointless war of aggression. Georg's voice is arctic calm when he says, "It's the only way to end this quickly, do it now." This time, the soldier gives him a "Yes, sir." Georg leans back in his chair, and then moves to the window. He stares out the window as the sky lights up and the growing mushroom clouds glow over the horizon, his eyes filled with hatred.

--Jonathan

News of the nuclear attack on Tbilisi explodes all over news channels, radios squawking hysterically through the camps of the Georgian soldiers as well as the resistance fighters, who sit in wait, still outnumbered by the Georgian forces, but expecting Russian support to arrive at any moment.

Georg's jaw is set as he stares out the window, clenched tight as he ponders the deaths of those who will pay. For the warning to his brother was not enough: so many of his people did not escape Laz Cortu before the air strike hit. His little sister... no word of her at all. He imagines her little figure, curled into a grotesque ball of charred flesh, and all he can think of is the last remaining missile: the one he's been saving, the one with twice the payload of the other two put together. His ticket to freedom and vengeance, if he can but find a suitable target. His one remaining trump card.

"Georg..." A young woman's voice sounds behind him, strained, cracking, as though she can barely speak his name. "Please... talk to me..."

Maria. Georg doesn't even turn away from the window, simply raises his hand with a gesture of dismissal. She sobs as two Abkhazian guards grab her by the arms.

"Take her to the basement. Do with her as you like."

I'm supporting No for Maria, using a card from my hand.

--Terry

The guards take Maria downstairs. As they pass by Yuriy, still bound hand and foot to a chair but now with the explosives disabled, one of them elbows the other. "Hey, Niki..." he says, his face taking on a predatory look, "I've been thinking... the boss said that we could do whatever we want with her, right?" The other guard turns to Niki, an incredulous look on his face, "What trouble do you want to get me into this time, Igor?" Niki responds.

Igor replies, "The fun kind of trouble, are you in?"

Niki shrugs and raises an eyebrow.

At that, Igor backhands Maria to the floor in front of Yuriy. The general's eyes widen. Igor begins taking off his belt as Maria whimpers and clutches her face. Yuriy starts straining at his bonds with wild abandon, his face becoming beet red with the effort. Igor tears off Maria's blouse, exposing her bra. Yuriy's eyes bulge out of his head with the sheer strength that he is bringing to bear against the ropes that bind him.

Niki taunts him, saying, "What's the matter, old man? You think you can stop us? You're going to pay for what you've done to us. I lost a brother in Laz Cortu, and if revenge means raping your daughter right in front of you... well then that'll be pretty sweet."

Yuriy finally manages to free his mouth from the gag, some of his skin tearing away as the gag falls loose around his neck.

"UNHAND MY DAUGHTER!!!!!" Yuriy yells like a Commandment from the Bible. The sudden silence throughout the house is audible, and for a moment the only sound is Maria's sobbing.

Georg comes bounding down the stairs and surveys the scene. Igor turns to Georg and says, "I'm sorry sir, I got the impression this is what you wanted."

"Shut up," Georg says, and adds, "Leave."

Niki and Igor hurry out of the house. Georg turns to Yuriy, who still has a glob of spittle on his chin after his outburst. Georg disdainfully steps over Maria's prone form and comes face to face with General Yuriy.

"You want to protect her?" Georg says, "Then tell me what I want to know. Give me the command codes."

Yuriy stares back at Georg impassively.

Georg continues, "You give me what I want, and I promise that I will send Maria to safety. Any reasonable location that you wish." He leans down and pulls up Maria's head by the hair--she shrieks in pain. "Don't give me what I want, and I'll rape her myself."

Yuriy says, "You wouldn't!" But he is filled with fear at what he sees in Georg's eyes.

"Oh, I will," Georg says, as he begins taking off his belt.

---

I am resolving General Yuriy's desire: to rescue his blind daughter from the midst of erupting hostilities.

Any interruptions or shall we reveal the cards?

--Bob

Step 4: Determine Player Goals

Paul, if it's ok with you, I can just randomly determine goals for everyone. I'll email you the results and we can keep them offline so as not to ruin the game. Does that sound good? Or do you have an alternate suggestion?

--Jonathan

Yeah, sounds good! We won't be able to make it a fully competitive game, anyway, since we can see each other's hands, and the "hidden" cards in the Desires (unless you have an idea for handling this, like some kind of code and key system--we could have a Gmail conversation, for instance, and both not promise to look at it, for each Desire, where we record which card we "hid").

Just make sure you follow something like the actual procedure, as opposed to just assigning goals randomly, which could turn into everyone having the same goal for a particular desire or something similar.

Since I made the last nomination, Bob will take the first turn! Remember to give everyone one more card, if you haven't already. :)

--Paul

Ok, random goals have been assigned using the correct procedure, and sent by email. For Desires sheets, your idea is very intriguing, let's give it a try (although it's probably better to just send the info in an email rather than instant messenger).

--Jonathan

Jon, yeah, that's what I meant: "conversation" is what Gmail calls a bunch of e-mails all with the same subject. I've done it already. :)

Paul

Step 3: Filling Out the Story Outline Sheet

The Story Outline Sheet has been filled out here: Muse:Musette Playtest 1:Story Outline Sheet

Step 2: Generate the Story Outline

We decided on 3 players

Brainstorming for story elements: Muse:Musette_Playtest_1:Brainstorm_Sheet

Step 1: Decide on Genre and Tone

How about a film noir spy story set in modern Georgia?

--Jonathan

OK. I don't know much about Georgia, though. Is a vague fictionalized Georgia OK?

Also, "film noir" and "spy film/story" are two very different things to me. Can you give a two or three-sentence kind of "snapshot" of what the genre you're envisioning is like? And you can go right ahead into the next step after that.

--Paul

To me film noir evokes the movie Casablanca--it's black & white, has lots of close-ups, it's crime drama, people smoke, it's set in or around the Great Depression era, it features moral ambiguity and sexual motivation. Try reading the plot of Casablanca for a little bit of inspiration: [[1]]

A spy story involves governments or other organizations (e.g. multinational corporations) spying on each other using agents, satellites, by intercepting communications, etc. It could be low-key (no crazy gadgets) or over-the-top or some mix of both.

Hence a film noir spy story would be a black & white story of smokers, with close-ups and moral ambiguity, incolving organizations spying on each other. I just picked Georgia because it's become a battleground between super-powers (the US and Russia). I don't know if this is the real story, but from what I've heard it seems that Georgia was encouraged by the US (probably with money and/or military equipment and/or the promise of political aid) to raid its independant pro-Russian provinces. The US wanted to test Russia's strength, while Georgia wanted its provinces back. Russia responded very decisively by crushing Georgia's military and showing without doubt that it could have taken over Georgia if it had wanted to. The US was not able to intervene directly because that would reveal its involvement in the affair. There's a lot of room here for spy stories of various kinds (heck, you could probably have a whole campaign).

Note: I know next to nothing about Georgia, so a vague fictionalized Georgia is fine with me!

Does that sound fine for you? If this seems too politically charged or kind of hard for you to get into, please feel free to suggest other options. This is really just the first thing I thought about... Anyway, I've added some brainstormed story elements in Muse:Musette Playtest 1:Brainstorm Sheet

--Jonathan

Although I'm having trouble seeing how a film noir can fit in a middle Asian setting like this. But let's just do it! (Hmmm, maybe I need to watch Casablanca again...)

--Paul