January 5, 2015

Race for Atlantis: A Fate One Shot

Gathered in the back room of a bar in Casablanca, Morocco, you sit at a large round table and listen to a man speak.

"... And because of this, the Smithsonian Institute has decided that we have obtained enough evidence to launch an expedition for Atlantis." said the suit clad Curator. "The Smithsonian Institute has decided to hire the lot of you to help find it. They have also spent a pretty penny on some of the equipment you will have available for use. Moored in the harbor is the Felicity, a fishing vessel captained by the French Hef Hughner. Felicity has been modified to carry and launch the pride and joy of the Smithsonian's aquatics exploration division, the Manatee. The Manatee is an eight man submersible, capable of reaching the average ocean floor depths. Sustained via a tether to Felicity, it could remain underwater indefinitely, as long as its pumps and generators."

"If you manage to find the sunken city, we would like it if you could map out as much of it as possible, and retrieve an artifact or relic that we could use as proof of our discovery. This expedition is of utmost secrecy, which is why we are in this back room. Some of the men over at the British Museum and New York City's American Museum of Natural History have been interested in this project and would do anything to earn the fame and glory of being the ones to discover Atlantis."

The Curator slammed back the small amount of scotch left in his glass. "Well, now if you don't have anymore questions for me, I guess we are done here. I will see you all bright and early in the harbor. Six o' clock seems like a good time to get started." He rose out of his chair as he finished his last words. With a nod, he threw down enough cash to cover everyone's drinks and left into the cool night.