The 2nd of Low Harvest – It was high noon at the White Prong and Excor and Fauna were sitting around a table enjoying a lunch of honey-drenched vittles, greasy squab with roasted onions, and plenty of cool, foaming ale. Both were solemnly awaiting the imminent wizard duel. They were halfway through their meal when Xanto the Wasp burst in through the door setting the spring-bell into a cacophonous fit of ear-battering ringing.
Xanto the Wasp (gliding over to Excor): “My friend! Oh, my friend! I have heard the dreadful news of your impending duel!”
He emphatically drew up his striped cape as a flourish.
Excor: “Here it comes.”
Xanto: “Oh! My dear friend! I will be your second, trust me! I have had plenty of experience in duels both as second and as duelist! And a fine duelist I am.”
Fauna: “How many duels have you been in!?”
Xanto: “A duel? A few in my time.”
He whipped his cape from his shoulder, “I have yet to lose an honest duel!”
Excor: “So where’s your apprentice Bumble?”
Fauna: “Oh yeah I was lookin’ for her.”
Xanto (waving away the question): “She’s off with her family somewhere, I don’t know family duties or whatnot. Anyway, I will be proud to back you as cabal leader and will stand by your side in the guild house! They cannot prevent me this …”
His words sort of fade into a mumbling mess.
Cris (Excor’s player): “I sense motive. … Nat-Twenty!”
Excor got the sense that Xanto was just using him to gain access to the Star Sapphire Confraternity’s guild house for whatever reason. Additionally, he probably also knows exactly where his apprentice is, he just isn’t saying.
Cris: “Screw it! I accept him as my second, might as well have this guy in my corner.”
Jenn (Fauna’s player): “Yeah you don’t want the Wasp in the other guy’s corner!”
Xanto (throwing his arm in the air to signal a waitress): “Ah, my friend it pays to have Xanto in your corner.”
Excor (his finger in the Wasp’s face): “No cheating.” With that, he drained his jack of the last swallow of ale.
The odd trio sits and drinks on the Wasp’s tab (mostly grog) until evening. They conducted various conversations and fragments of just killing time until the common room of the Prong was noticeably darker, and the golden sky of approaching dusk shone through the windows, the great purple moon and its rings dominating the sky. The Wasp proposed a final cheer before the three got up from their table, quiet and sullen (save the Wasp). They started on their way through the dusky streets to the Star Sapphire Confraternity’s Guild House.
Later, in the Star Sapphire Confraternity Guild House basement – The entirety of the cabal was there in the large dark dirt-floored chamber. They were somewhere underneath the main guild house in one of its many cellars. The air was heavy with must and the candles and lanterns that lit it caused the moist air to become heavy and sweltering. Around the perimeter awkwardly stood Szoosha, Fauna, and Excor who occasionally tried to say something inspirational but failed each time. Across from them in a far corner were Bumble and Rhiam huddled around Belrae next to who stood a middle-aged guild wizard none of the others had yet seen. At the center of the chamber carefully scribing a circle in the dirt were three mages in silken blue robes overseen by the old wizard that had taken the unicorn wand from Excor. Jirek was there sweating bullets alone in another corner.
Cris: “Yup. There it is. Bumble’s in Belrae’s corner. … Hey wait a minute! Where’s the Wasp!?”
After the circle was complete the old wizard stepped into the center of the circle, “I am the honorable Xendo Zhaivo! I am a high-ranking member of the confraternity in high-standing and will serve as the official arbiter to this duel! If there are no objections or protestations from any present we will continue, and the dueling process shall commence! … No one? Good. Attention seconds! It is time to set the terms of this duel! We must confer with the participants’ seconds! To the circle, now!”
Xanto (appearing from nowhere eagerly stomped off from behind the trio towards the circle): “Ha! Time for me to shine!”
Minutes passed as the three mages and the seconds announced and negotiated terms running them back and forth. Finally, terms for the duel were reached, recorded, and signed. Excor had tried to include that the winner would take control of the cabal. However, he learned that the winner of a duel over the leadership was automatically the leader of the Cabal of Eight. It was already written in the charter.
Cris: “Aw man! I should’ve got a copy of that damn charter!”
The GM (me): “Or read it.”
The terms were these: no magic items, no physical binding of your opponent (Belrae’s stipulation which caused some contention), no weapons only spell magic, no total immobilization (Excor added in response to Belrae’s previous stipulation), and the duelists would enter the arena with 3 active spells to be prepared directly before the fight (as was traditional).
After this stage in the duel ritual, Xendo advised all witnesses to stand away from the circle. Then he and Xanto, as well as the three other mages in guild garb, began chanting casting a chain spell (led by Xendo) on the small circle of open ground within the scribed dirt circle. A crackling, mostly transparent dome of pure magical energy faded into existence and enclosed the area within the circle. Those who could see directly into the area of effect found that the ground contained within seemed to be a much larger area than what could possibly be contained within the circle’s circumference. The magic caused a strange lensing effect while looking through the field. Most observers had to turn away as the effect hurt their eyes. The actual diameter of the duel area was about 10 ft, within it was 50 ft.
Meanwhile, Excor cast the Mage Armor, Breath Without Air, and Shield spells on himself. Unbeknownst to team Excor, Belrae cast Death Armor, False Image II, and Invisibility II on himself. As soon as the dueling arena, as it was referred to, was up and functioning, both duelists were asked to enter from opposite but facing sides. With no further ceremony, the duel commenced.
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Belrae got the jump on Excor and began casting flamboyantly but the spell fizzled. Excor cast Slow on his opponent however the spell did not take effect for whatever reason. He watched carefully as Belrae tried to cast the same spell but again failed. Excor then took the time to size up his opponent and tried to guess what the spell was that he was trying to cast. A quick Spellcraft check revealed that Belrae was trying to get a Bolt of Stunning off. Belrae then cast Daggerfall instead on Excor destroying his shield. Excor hit Belrae with a cone of fire (Cone of Energy: Fire) visibly scorching his purple robes.
Excor moved away and cast See the Invisible. He rolled a Natural 1 on a general detection check of his surroundings which cost him a move equivalent action. Belrae immediately cast a fireball (Energy Ball: Fire) catching Excor in the blast reducing his mage armor by half. Excor shot a Lightning Bolt at Belrae but it fell short. Belrae appeared to flinch as if hit anyway. Visible scorch marks appeared on his robes. Then Belrae began a spell which quickly got out of his control and went wild. He twitched when a poisonous green bolt of energy blasted from his hands and struck Excor’s mage armor, destroying it. Excor charged forward and let loose a Force Ram spell, Belrae amazingly dodged with a natural 20.
The opponents circled each other like dogs in a fighting pit, each looking for an opening that would end this contest. Belrae seeing his chance, tried to cast a spell, but it fizzled out. Excor let loose a Bolt of Stunning striking Belrae but to no effect.
Excor: “What!? Hmm. Dammit!”
Belrae went to cast another spell and again it went wild in his clumsy hands. The skulls of both opponents flashed with a blast of purplish-white energy causing each of them to shudder with pain. Both had suffered temporary wisdom (WIS) damage from the wild magic. Fortunately, not enough to render either completely insane. Excor shot Belrae again with another Bolt of Stunning. Again, it was to no effect.
Excor: “Damn!”
Belrae began approaching and carefully sidestepping, motioning as if casting a spell. Excor fell for the ruse and prepared to take a hit, but nothing came. Excor then unleashed a Paralyze II spell trying to cripple one of his foe’s arms thereby preventing his spellcasting. However, nothing happened again.
Isis: “Aw man!”
Jenn: “Oh no!”
Cris: “Sh*t. What the hell? … I’m missing something.”
Suddenly, Excor was smashed from behind by a Force Ram spell strong enough to put him out of action. The dome of energy faded away and all wounds suffered during the match likewise disappeared. Excor got up dusting himself off. Xanto was already congratulating Belrae on his “flawless” victory.
Cris: “Shit! Good one.” (Directed at me) “Damn!”
Then he realized something and groaned loudly before face-palming.
Isis: “What? What’s going on?”
Cris: “The spells he used to get me in the duel. False Image II, Invisibility, and Force Ram?”
Me (the GM): “Hey, you guessed it!”
Isis: “Yeah.”
Cris: “He got those from my and Gornix’s grimoires! When we traded spells way back when! He learned that from us!” (I don’t think the actual moment is recorded dear reader, but they traded spells at the end of almost every cabal meeting while Gil (Gornix’s player) was still playing, so I probably truncated the actual occurrence in the blog).
With the match over and leadership of the cabal settled Excor limped back to his room in Fauna’s new rental and went to sleep. The others, however, had their own plans, and as all were shuffling from the guild house Szoo and Fauna decided to invite Bumble along for a drink at the Red Helm. They had intended to ply her for information over drinks. They were convinced the Wasp was planning something. However, Bumble collapsed after the first tip of the mug. Fauna had dosed her ale with yellow lotus.
Szoo: “Ugh! Why did you do that!”
Fauna: “I dunno, we were trying to get her f*&%ed up right?”
Szoo: “Not that messed up!”
Fauna then left Szoo there to take care of the Wasp’s apprentice. She went to see the grove tender in Central Park, Anishi, and after a brief discussion, while Anishi was busy leading a chant around the central tree with his pupils, she found he was a member of the Southern Order of Druids. After that brief and mostly fruitless adventure, the druidess shuffled back to the new rental and did some yellow lotus.
The following day, the 3rd of Low Harvest, the three adventurers plus Jirek and Bumble found themselves around the old round table in the club room. Belrae lorded over all of them and most of the time it was him making speeches and plans that would eventually require the assistance of the rest. They all pretty much just tuned him out. All save for Excor as Belrae couldn’t help but send a verbal jab his way every now and then. Szoo, as usual, was gazing out of the window most of the time but looked over at Belrae just after he had finished his last vainglorious speech and loudly uttered, “Ugh!” Before the meeting was dismissed it was declared that Xanto the Wasp would be donating his “consultation services’ to the cabal. Belrae prevented Excor from talking when he piped up with his objections.
Over the following eight days, Excor brewed mead and Fauna brewed several potions. She had gone to the bank to make a withdrawal realizing that the banker, Xander (see Cabal of Eight II pt.3: Blue Cloaks & Bankers), was a member of the cult she was leading. The next meeting was dominated by the superstar team of Belrae and the Wasp who ultimately decided, with the input of Fauna, to begin planning an expedition to find the Golden Bee. Apparently, the Wasp had “come upon some valuable information concerning” it.
12th of Low Harvest – Szoo had just put the finishing touches on his brand-new staff and had exited the “bone sculptor’s” hole in the wall into the narrow maze of narrow back alleys that hid him. The naga was strutting his way to the nearest main street with his new staff in hand. It was made of dragonbone with a starmetal inlay that wound up along the length of it to a single large moonstone embedded at its head. It was a staff of elemental blast (fire) and could deal +1D6 fire damage on a strike. Suddenly, Szoosha’s shield spell was triggered by a blast of concentrated water. He spun around and prepared for battle.
Before him stood a slight, fair-skinned human, a Fuglotian mage, wearing soft leather armor with a grey serpent sown on the breast, and a wolf skin mantle on his shoulders. It was the water elementalist who had accompanied the Grey Serpent Pirates (The Cabal of Eight II Pt.15: Something on the Table).
The Grey Serpent Mage (pointing accusingly at Szoo): “You’re too close to the sea fire tosser!”
Szoosha could feel his hatred. It was instinctive between the two of them. They were each harnessing opposing elements by instinct. So, it only followed logically that casters of opposing forces would instinctively hate each other. Apparently, the water elementalist had taken his lack of facing down Szoosha in battle as a personal insult.
The group was rushing through the streets with Fauna in the lead. They wound south taking alleys and turning whenever there was a corner trying to keep from making too straight a line through the city. They soon passed beneath the shadow of the great southwestern guard tower, a castle in and of itself, as they ran deeper into the Southwest District. Fauna came to a halt before a tall three-story apartment building with three small shuttered slit windows per floor. The street was narrow, and the only traffic was street beggars and a leper ringing a bell as they limped past. Fauna walked up to the mildewed wooden double doors and fitted a key, given to her by one of Vor Jetl’s servants before she met up with her fellows at the White Prong. Excor observed the terra cotta tile roof, it appeared in ill repair. She opened the doors, and they went inside.
They found themselves in a small rundown foyer with an open roof and a shallow rain-catching pool of murky green water in the center of the floor. Everything was water damaged and the plaster was falling off in great patches on the walls exposing bricks. Fauna walked to the bronze double door. They could see patches of corrosion all over it. She reached up to the bell pull and rang the bell.
Excor: “Yup, just like I thought it would be.”
A small square hatch in the upper portion of the right-side door opened and they could see a rheumy eye look them over and without a word the doors swung open on unexpectedly oiled hinges. An old man welcomed them in. He was completely bald with a brass hoop earring in one drooping earlobe, a pair of brass bracelets on his wrists, leather sandals on his feet, and wrapped in an off-white toga fastened with a dull bronze brooch at the shoulder bearing the insignia of a dragonfly.
The Servant: “Ah! My mistress I’ve prepared for your return. There is food and drink on the table, I will return shortly with the meats.”
Excor & Szoo (together): “Whoa! What. The. Hell!”
They had wandered into a large room of white marble pillars and floors and smooth, white-washed walls. Censors hung from the ceiling of the square mezzanine that bounded the room opening into both floors above allowing the light from the skylight in the roof to bathe the room in bright warm light. Other censors stood around the perimeter by the walls, all smoking with a sweet mild scent. The center of the room was depressed and lined with embroidered silk pillows and three couches bounded the dropped floor. At the center of the dropped floor and mess of pillows was a glass top table set with trays of fresh fruit, three loaves of bread, a pot of butter, and two clay decanters of strong brown ale. They could see the top of a fully loaded hookah next to the table and the grand staircase beyond. Fauna’s three companions stood agape while she rushed over to the table and plopped down.
Excor: “Hey! Wait a minute! You need to answer some questions!”
Szoo: “Yeah, I think you need to explain some stuff.”
Fauna: “Like what?”
Szoo & Excor (together, both motioning to their surroundings): “Well. All of THIS!”
Fauna remained cheeky, so Excor and Szoo began to grill her about how she had these kinds of resources. Eventually, the druidess came clean as she realized trust was wearing thin within the group. She confessed to them that she was the head priestess of a secretive druidic cult that meets within the subterranean labyrinths under the city. They’re called the Brotherhood of the Rope. The groundskeeper of the Grove, Anishi (see The Cabal of Eight Pt.2: Wagon Ho!), was a high-ranking member and had brought her in, Virtra Wefa, the woman who had hired them in a failed scheme was at the time, the high priestess of the cult (see The Cabal of Eight Pt.24: Plate of Scorpions). This “safehouse” was owned by the merchant, Vor Jetl, “The Dragonfly”, another high-ranking cult member. Excor asked how long this had been going on.
Fauna: “I dunno, I became high priestess a few days ago…”
Both Szoo and Excor nodded in acceptance.
Fauna: “…but I guess I’ve been a member for like, uh, a month I think.”
Excor: “WHAT!? We could’ve used your cult to our advantage this whole TIME!
Cris, went ballistic going on a diatribe at the table that lasted for about 10 minutes. When he finished Fauna replied with a snide, “Well, we’ve got this place for now. Vor Jetl said we got it for as long as we need it. Wow, I’m really stressed.”
Fauna rolled out a line of yellow lotus on the glass table.
Szoo & Excor (together): “NO.”
Fauna: “Aww.” She put it away, pouted for a bit, then poured herself an ale in one of the gold-leafed red-clay wine cups as a salve.
After eating and drinking the group was settled in and Szoo and Fauna took turns pulling on the hookah. Excor kept the wrapped wand next to him, Jirek stayed close by babysitting a cup of dark wine that the old servant had brought out after supper. Excor reached into a pocket and pulled out the letter and sheet of aged sheepskin that had accompanied the wand’s case (see The Cabal of Eight II – Pt.20: Hideaway). He took it upon himself to cast clairvoyance on the letter, twice, to try to glean some answers.
Excor sat on a pillow in a meditative pose aside from the lounging group save for Jirek who remained his constant companion. After a few minutes…
Excor: “Sh*t!”
Szoo: “Wha? What’d you, see?”
Excor: “The ‘distinguished blue steward’ from the note.”
Fauna just shrugged. She got up from the pillows and dropped herself onto a couch. Then as she stretched herself out, she realized something. She had spilled the beans about her cult to not only her dear companions Szoo and Excor but also to Jirek.
Jenn: “Guys, Jirek knows about the cult, I think I’m going to have to kill him.”
Isis: “What!? Nooo, why are you obsessed with killing Jirek!?”
For the past several sessions Jenn had been suggesting that they needed to kill Jirek for some reason.
Cris: “Naw, don’t kill a member of the cabal. We’ll figure it out later.”
They went back and forth between the three of them about what to do about the wand. Excor was vague but everyone figured out he wanted to keep it which caused Szoo to give him the side eye. Fauna talked about possibly destroying it, Excor agreed, but only if the Ocean of the Desert was about to get it. Szoo seconded that motion. Otherwise, they could not really figure out what to do with it as everyone after it wanted to cash-it-in to the dragon and they were loath to deal with a higher-up in the Sapphire guild. So, delivering the wand to him was out. Essentially, they did not reach a solid decision other than the Ocean of the Desert could not get her blue claws on it.
As night approached and the old servant went around lighting candles as well as the chandelier which hung from the ceiling two floors up from the center of the skylight as well as those in sconces in each of the bed chambers. They decided they needed to have two watches. Jirek and Fauna would be on the first watch, Szoo and Excor would be on the second. The reason was that they could not trust Jirek and though they didn’t say it out loud, they didn’t really trust each other at this point either.
The first watch commenced as the other two lay down amongst the pillows in the main room rather than the bedrooms prepared for them on the upper floors. An hour or so passed as the vast place became dead quiet then the servant passed the pair of watchers apparently on his way outside. He explained to Fauna that he had to run some errands for his master and would be right back. He asked her if there was anything he could get her, and when she said no, he left.
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Fauna: “Sooo, Jirek… What’s up?”
Jirek: “Um, not, nothing really. Hey, you got some lotus on you?”
Fauna: “Hell yea…wait. So, you wanna do some?”
Jirek: “Well, ladies first…”
Fauna (suspicious but successfully playing it off): “You go ahead we’re on watch, it’s alright, I got this.”
She passed a small leather pouch to him. He denied it with an upturned hand, “That’s okay, it’s no fun alone.”
Jenn: “Yup, I really don’t trust this guy!”
Isis: “Oh, Jirek, man…”
Cris (mockingly): “Pfft! Oh yeah, I don’t trust him – No sh*t! He wants the wand, we all want the wand, it’s bad*ss!”
The first watch passed quietly, “too quietly” for Fauna, and the second began as Jirek and Fauna took their places amongst the silk pillows. After about an hour, Fauna was snoring, but Jirek was laying as if waiting for something pretending to be asleep as noted by Excor. He managed to whisper this info to Szoo without Jirek catching it. Another hour passed and the black night as observed through the skylight above had lightened to a deep star-specked purple.
Both Szoo and Excor were drowsing their heavy-lidded eyes rhythmically shutting and then opening when suddenly the lights dimmed throughout the room. Both mages shot to their feet.
Szoo: “Oh boy, here we go!”
Excor: “EVERYBODY UP! WAKE UP!”
A mass of black shadows coalesced into a large black cloud opposite the two watchers and on the other side of the sleepers. The cloud hardened into a blob that split into three human-like silhouettes with long wormy tentacles in place of arms.
Jirek leaped up and jumped behind Excor. Szoo charged forward and struck with his naginata, a rubbery whip-like tentacle parried the blade. Excor cast a shield spell on himself in time for a tentacle to stretch from the second shadow as it moved forward trying to entangle him. Fauna was still snoring as the third shadow’s tentacles oozed toward her sleeping form. Szoo’s shriek finally caused her to shoot up from a dead sleep. Jirek appeared to ready himself but did nothing. Szoo struck again but again was parried. The first shadow struck at Szoo, he dodged, and the tentacle cracked like a bullwhip. Excor backed away but tried to keep within reach of the wrapped wand. The second shadow advanced on him. Fauna dodged a tentacle and ran up the grand staircase. Jirek again readied himself, however, he did nothing save stepping closer to the wand. Excor cast a stun bolt at the creature on him, but it had no effect. Jirek looked around and seemed to root himself to the spot.
Excor: “Wait a minute. I think my spell hit a higher level of magic. Hm.”
Excor turned and cast paralyze II on Jirek who froze in place next to the wand. Szoo, in turn, struck home with his polearm, but it passed harmlessly through the monster.
Excor: “They’re shadow creatures! Watch out!”
Szoo: “I think these guys are illusions!”
Szoo reached out with confidence and his hand passed right through it as the illusion faded. Excor kicked Jirek and told him to dispel them. They disappeared.
Szoo: “Is Jirek even that powerful?”
Jirek (after the paralysis was lifted): “It was a scroll.”
Fauna: “WHO’RE WORKING FOR!?”
Jirek: “Myself! Myself! I just wanted the wand.”
Fauna: “Oh yeah! WHY!?”
Jirek & Excor (both at once): “Because it’s awesome!”
They decided not to kill Jirek after a two-to-one vote, but he was now on outs with the trio although they made it clear that he was now to consider himself a prisoner, at least until this wand debacle was over. If he gained the wand, he would then easily lose it to the Ocean of the Desert or the pirates and thus the dragon would get it anyway. That was not even taking Xanto the Wasp into account.
Excor (under his breath): “Gawd-dammit.”
Szoo: “what?”
Excor: “We need to finish this! We need a plan.”
Fauna: “Seconded!”
The three adventurer-mages were just about to huddle when the bronze double door burst open. Several armed guards poured into the room. Behind them followed the corpulent Vor Jetl, the old servant who stood just behind him.
Vor Jetl: “Ah, my dear priestess,” he bowed, “I see you found a great prize for the brotherhood. Our coffers will be overflowing!”
They easily made it through the mirror into the Wasp’s strange extra-dimensional hideout guided back to the mirror in the library closet by Fauna.
Szoo (mesmerized by the vaulted ceilings more than 20 ft. above him): “Whoa.”
The trio had the previous instant just been in a tiny closet and walked through an out-of-place mirror as if it were a thin veil of shimmering mercury and found themselves here. The walls were nearly featureless vast swaths of smooth cold beige. The magic sconces, large dragonflies of colored glass mosaic far up the walls lit by flickering golden magic flames. They lit the hall before them well enough though they were all made nervous by the fact the magic light also seemed to deepen the numerous shadows.
The trio looked down each side of the cross-hall, it seemed to continue both left and right into unlit sections which prevented them from seeing how far the cross-hall went. Jirek, the cabal scribe, was close but apart from the group.
Cris (Excor’s Player): “Crap, that’s right. Jirek’s still with us.”
Before them was a set of winding ivory stairs that rose to a spacious mezzanine, all the floors were a polished marble tile mosaic. In a niche under the stairs were stacked books and piles of scrolls, several of which were strewn about the floor along with several open books next to an oblong case.
Excor (to Fauna): “That it?” He pointed to the case.
Fauna: “I dunno, probably is.”
Excor looked at the green lacquered double door under the mezzanine ledge.
Fauna: “That leads to a library… I think.”
They turned around. Behind them was a large built-in mirror rimmed in gold with a sapphire and emerald dragonfly at the top edge. This main hall area was of considerable size.
Excor, not wanting to appear over-eager to get the case in his hands, starts questioning Fauna about what’s here – bedrooms up there and a bath, a kitchen somewhere (she had no idea), the library there beyond those doors, and that’s all she knew.
Szoo: “Should we start exploring this place?”
Excor: “Yeah, yeah… pick a hallway, there’s three ways to go. We kind of know what’s up there.” He pointed at the mezzanine and the main hall. He turned around to face one of the side hallways.
Szoo: “Um, the right one?”
Then as a group with Excor in the lead, they started to go down the dim hallway, the lights began to light up as they moved down. They continued for several minutes only noticing after they had made a long distance that the lights were progressively dimmer than the previous. They pushed on eventually stopping about a dozen feet or so from a virtual wall of darkness.
Excor: “Holdup.”
The trio each in turn tried to penetrate the impenetrable shadows with their eyes. Neither the druidess nor the naga could see a thing. Excor, however, thought he saw “something moving in there”. It was shapeless.
As a result, They began lighting torches and lamps, casting light spells, and trying to penetrate the supernatural darkness. It was as if they had come face to face with a brick wall but of solidified shadow instead of masonry. Fauna was prodded to “poke” her torch into it. When the flame submerged into its depths, its light was completely obscured. It came back out extinguished.
Excor: “Great. It probably has energy drain on it or some sh*t like that.”
Fauna: “What do you think it is?”
Excor: “A wall of shadows or something…”
The four mages, the trio of adventurers with Jirek following far behind, went in the opposite direction to the same result.
Excor: “Man! There’s gotta be something good back there. Ah! Do we wanna die trying to get it?”
Cris looked over at me with an accusing glare. I could only shrug and signal a “who me!?”, then wave my hands helplessly in the air.
Cris: “Yeah, yeah, I thought so.”
Excor (aiming his question at his companions): “So, do we try to get through this thing?”
Szoo & Fauna (in unison): “Screw that!”
Excor: “Cool, cool. We’re getting sidetracked, let’s get that f@*#’in wand!”
They retreated to the box.
Cris: “Yeah, I don’t want to mess up my royal clothes!”
Excor was still in his royal duds; an embroidered silk robe with a black silk sash at the waist over a buttoned undershirt, black silk shoes on his feet, a black felt pork-pie hat with a peacock feather on his head, and the magic blue cape on his back.
Cris (to me, the GM): “Yeah, I need to get back into my adventuring gear, I need to keep my noble clothes clean.”
Isis (Szoo’s Player): “What!?”
Jenn (Fauna’s Player): “Oh! He’s a fancy lad!”
That’s when they noticed that Jirek, who was with them when they entered the Wasp’s strange extra-dimensional hideout, was already on the case trying to suss out how to open it.
Excor: “Hey! You get back from there!”
Szoo: “Don’t make me burn you, man!”
Fauna: “Yeah!”
Jirek backed off with his hands up, “Just curious, this is it though!”
Excor: “No kidding!”
Then Excor sidled up next to the case and began carefully inspecting it. Shortly after a concerted effort, they spotted a white outline of a keyhole under a seal. Excor had the other three stand back while he used his magic platinum key (see Cabal of Eight – Pt.17: Fight for Sleep) to temporarily open the magically sealed case. They were all stunned for a moment standing transfixed as he gazed upon the treasure within.
There, sitting within the small but long black case, was the wand that every power player in Ezmer was desperate to get their hands on. The scepter was almost as long as a short spear with a shining pearlescent twisted alicorn consisting most of its length. The horn was set in a polished platinum horse-head guard with a polished jet grip and large polished azurite pommel stone.
Both Jirek and Excor grabbed the wand. They stared each other down for a moment, then Jirek reluctantly let go after Szoo threatened him.
Excor: “Okay. We need something to wrap this in.”
The case snapped back closed. They could all hear the locking mechanism reengage.
Fauna: “Got it!” She darted up the stairs and then after a few brief minutes ran back down the flight of stairs with a delicate silk blanket pilfered from an upper bedroom bunched in her arms. Then as they wrapped the glorious object in silk, they noticed that Jirek followed every movement of the wand with his eyes.
Isis: “Aw man, the wand’s got Jirek!”
Jenn: “Oh no, do we have to kill him?”
Cris: “Naw, we just have to keep an eye on him, don’t let him be alone with it… Damn.”
Jenn: “What?”
Cris: “We’re all wizards.”
Isis: “So.”
Cris: “None of us can really outrun him, if we were faster, we could lose Jirek on the way.”
Szoo: “Wait. Where are we going?”
Fauna: “Duh, the safehouse man!”
Isis (to Cris): “Wait. Why did you invite Jirek anyway?”
Cris: “…”
Jenn: “Well.”
Cris: “I forgot.”
Without analyzing anything further they fled back through the mirror leaving the empty case behind. They were going to run all the way to the safehouse set up for Fauna by Vor Jetl hoping that they could avoid the Blue Dragon’s servants, the two pirate crews, and the Wasp.
Jenn was driving us along Sierra Avenue already in downtown Fontana, the sky orange and gold shadowing the old mission-style church and casting the newer library glass in dim blue. We were on our way to the game after picking up Cris in Muscoy. As we passed city hall the conversation about the game turned to the old test sessions just before the release of the first edition of Zombie Horror.
Cris: “…Just be careful what you say in this game.”
Jenn: “What? Why?”
Cris: “HORROR MOVIE RULES! That’s why. Fresh batteries, look
first. Y’know, in the test game those idiots wanted to stop for gas on our way
out of the city for some stupid reason!”
I started laughing.
Cris: “Look at ‘em! YOU remember! So we stopped at the
f&*#$n gas station and here it comes!
A gas truck on fire covered with zombies, and of course a big explosion,
and ugh! We didn’t even need the gas!”
Cris (whispered under his breath): “idiots”
Me (turning to Jenn): “Ha ha, I did do that!”
It was several minutes before we
arrived at our destination, Jenn’s parents’ house. We were playing at the
in-laws’ house because Gil was in town and this was going to be one of the rare
times we could all get together. It was not long before we sat gathered around
the 6-person dining table.
Preamble or the
Info-Dump of the Dead
The incident occurs in the City of
Amorsetville and the surrounding county somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. The
main feature of the county is a large lake, polluted by an old oilrig at its
center, with a dense pine forest surrounding it. The main thoroughfare for the
county, connecting it to the city and the freeway, is the Old County Highway
that cuts through the forest passes and a shallow pass cut through the hills
and runs into the rural areas with old houses and hillbillies, then scattered
farms and ranches, then mostly new suburb developments until finally hitting
the city.
On the Southside of the lake, Lake
Ponchateaux, are narrow rocky beaches crowded with lake-goer trash, mostly beer
cans and bottles, and a significant concrete section near the road is the
termination point of the city storm drains. On the north and western sides, the
lake is bordered and feeds a significant stretch of marshland with hills and
thick forest on its east shore. Nearby the lake are a large and old trailer
park (Atomic Park) and a wrecking yard/junkyard. There is also an active
landfill a few miles west of these. To the south of the Old County Highway
which runs east and west, is a maze of back roads, mostly dirt, and patches of
old houses and trailers.
Near the far end of the county, at the western extreme, just off the Old County Highway is the Broken Saddle. It is an ugly faded yellow box of a building, an old dive bar. Currently, it is a pit stop for truckers and outlaw bikers who have some shady business to conduct on the county back roads. The old west style mortarboard has a chopper with a black saddle painted on it although the paint is long ago faded and peeling off to reveal a horse underneath the bike. The old horse ties still stand out front, sad leftovers from when it was a popular cow-punch themed nightspot.
The Outlaw Bar
In the Broken Saddle, the place was
full, it was not a large space by any means but it did pretty good business
considering its comparatively remote location. The jukebox was cranking out
classic country and rock hits and a blue smog of cigarette and reefer smoke
drifted lazily among the wood rafters and hanging pool table lights. Bikers in
dirty denim dominated the few pool tables and various clusters of truckers
occupied a few tables and some bar stools, yet there was room for more.
At a low table in the corner by the
bar and opposite the rank smelling and ill-maintained restrooms sat our heroes.
At the table nursing a pitcher of cheap beer were Wesley dressed in faux
country & western finery (played by Jenn), El Guapo in a road-grimed duster
(played by Gil), and Lilith, a pink-haired Goth in fishnets and gloss-black PVC
moto shorts (played by Isis).
The GM (me): “Wha…frickin’ El Guapo! What like from the Three
friggin’ Amigos movie!?”
Gil: “What? No. I haven’t seen that.”
Wesley, despite her plain looks and country-look reminiscent of a 70’s urban cowboy film, was a Bounty Hunter by trade. She was armed with a Desert Eagle in a hidden underarm holster underneath her shirt and another in a hidden holster in the small of her back accessible through a slit in the back of her shirt as well as a little .22 semi-auto hideaway pistol in her boot. She was a cousin of the Goth girl at the table, the same with the “outlaw” that was helping with the pitcher.
El Guapo, as he had dubbed himself, was a Gunslinger from southern Mexico and on the hunt for a bounty that he had pursued to the back roads of Amorset on the back of his chopper. While he was here, he had figured to source the help of his few relatives in the area. However, he was no closer to his quarry after a week of hunting. He had a wide-brimmed grey ten-gallon hat with a small peacock feather stuck in the band. Also, he was wearing, besides the dirty tan duster, a red lumberjack button-up, a brown leather belt with a large silver buckle, a pair of dark blue denim jeans, and a pair of well-worn cowboy boots.
IN addition, he was also armed with a Desert Eagle pistol in a hidden underarm holster underneath his shirt, a folding buck-knife in a sheath on his belt, and a bowie knife in his boot. He grabbed the half-full pitcher and refilled the Goth’s empty glass.
Lilith was by all appearances a club frequenting Goth-girl in the full drag, pancake makeup, bright red lipstick, and black fingernail polish. However, she was a consummate gear-head, Gizmoteer by trade, and was the only child of the severely alcoholic owner of the local wrecking yard. Her short pink hair was spiked into a faux-hawk, she was not armed to the teeth, however, she did own a gun, but she did have a multi-tool in a holster on her hip and a pocketknife zipped in a pocket.
All were bored and looking for a job, their prime concern to get some money, but here they were more likely to find trouble. Nonetheless, they began circulating amongst the truckers and bikers. Lilith talked with the bulky and somewhat tight-lipped bartender; her flirting got her a free shot. The trio almost happened upon a gunrunning deal but that would have required them to wait a while in the bar, a few hours. Already the bikers were picking fights with unfortunate randos walking into the place.
The motley trio decided to leave and head out to the Goth club after Lilith’s suggestion. Just as they cleared the tab and rose from their seats, they heard the wrack of smashing metal and the hideous bang of a car wreck. The place shook. For a brief second, the place was dead silent as the patrons exchanged wide-eyed glances. Suddenly, a scraggly older biker rushed in and shouted, “The bikes man! He hit our f*@#in’ bikes!”
The place cleared of bikers; most
of the bike-riding patrons were of the notorious local outlaw motorcycle club,
the Black Skulls.
Lilith: “Aw man! We need to get outta here.”
El Guapo: “Well, I’ll follow you on my chopper.”
Wesley (pointing at Lilith): “C’mon let’s go! I ride with
you!”
They rushed out of the nearly empty
bar and made it to their vehicles. They could see a small red four-door sedan
had smashed into the line of choppers out front of the place. The driver was in
bad shape as he was pulled from the wreck. He was drenched in blood, which El
Guapo thought odd; the wreck did not look that bad. The trio then heard a
biker-chick, a tall bleached blonde in leopard print and tight black leather
pants cry out, “oh my god! There’s a kid in here!”
The trio pulled away in their
vehicles and rolled to the dirt and gravel driveway to the street. Wesley saw
that the biker chick was cradling the apparently unconscious child.
Isis: “Aw c’mon! We gotta get outta here!”
Jenn: “Well, I was just lookin’!”
Gil: “Yeah this is bad, let’s go! I’m already going.”
As El Guapo followed Lilith’s
beat-up ’98 Chevy sedan, he saw the biker chick suddenly stand up screaming
with the child fixed to her neck by its teeth. Something else was also
happening with the passenger and driver but this was out of his sight. The trio
drove away.
Gil: “Whew! Just in time!”
They had been on the road for about half an hour before passing a diesel tanker pulled over to the side of the Old County Highway. It was a chemical tanker, the graphics on its side indicated that the truck belonged to Geno-Chem. The tank sides were bulging and the truck emergency lights were blinking. El Guapo spotted the driver walking around the truck with a flashlight. He had a gas mask on. They drove by still about 30 minutes away from their goal in the heart of the city, the Goth club.
Zombie Goth Party
A while later, the trio found themselves in the city’s commercial district. The sodium lit streets appeared deserted and quiet. However, the line out front of the Goth club, known as the Bat Gate, was as long, black-clad, and morose as ever. The club had two large castle-style doors as its entrance and a bat silhouette above the doors limed in blue-white fluorescent lights. The bat suspiciously resembled the Batman symbol, which was a well-worn point of humor for goers and passersby alike.
Lilith pulled her beat-up sedan into the parking structure immediately adjacent to the club. El Guapo decided to cruise around the around block as he “was not parking his hog in there”. He eventually found a parking spot about two blocks north of the club, the curbs lined with cars from the club goers. So, he parked his bike under a street light and proceeded to walk to the club entrance. He passed by a wide alley that ran along the rear of the Bat Gate where some club-goers congregated to smoke cigarettes and “get some air” after drinking too much. The pale electric-cyan of mercury-vapor light illuminated the rear double-doors and limned the tight knot of smoking Goths in impenetrable black. El Guapo spotted the silhouette of what he assumed was a homeless man stumbling through the shadowed part of the alley that spilled into the sidewalk.
El Guapo yelled a command to “stop
right there” suddenly at the shadow. The lurching form seemed not to heed his
warning. However, it was advancing slowly so he walked away but at a more
hastened pace. As he put distance between himself and the shadow he heard a Goth-chick
in the alley mutter, “What was that, ha-ha-ha!”
Meanwhile, Lilith was busy flirting
with the bouncer at the door. Eventually, the flirting paid off; both women
were let in without having to be searched. They waited just inside the doors
for El Guapo as the deep bass thumped through the floor and vibrated their
bones. When El Guapo showed up, they entered. He did not mention his odd
encounter.
The trio bellied up to the acrylic and glass neon-lit bar, the bartender was in full drag and heavily muscled with a multitude of face piercings and tattoos. They ordered a first-round and as they pronounced cheers, they vowed not to split up “no matter what”. Not long after their pledge, Wesley was approached by a Goth-Prince decked out in shiny black PVC, silver chains, and hairy chest exposed by his open-breasted outfit, a mane of pitch-black hair framing his white-painted face though his chiseled good looks still showed through. She immediately went off onto the dance floor with him.
El Guapo (as he took another shot of tequila): “Figures.”
Jenn: “Whaat!? My character doesn’t know what’s about to
happen and she needs a little!”
Isis: “Gaawd! I know! I’m so TENSE!”
Lilith (taking her goblet of red wine in hand): “Ya know
what? I’m gonna go see if I can get us up into the VIP tables.”
With that, Lilith went to the far side of the club opposite the entrance and began to work her charms with the bouncer minding the velvet rope that held off the commoners from the tables on the mezzanine. After easily getting past that hurdle she then spotted for somebody on the upper roped off mezzanine to charm, preferably a loner, she soon spotted her target, a lone effeminate looking person with only the top of their head shaved and butterfly tattoos between the heavily linered and lashed eyes. She seductively sauntered up to their table. In contrast, El Guapo haunted the bar served tequila shots from the muscly, fully cosmetically tricked out bartender.
El Guapo (stopping just short of a buzz): “This is too much for
me man! I got to get out of here.”
He left to smoke a cigarette out front. Then he started walking around the corner as the bouncer told him to “take it around the corner”. He decided to go check on his bike, his cigarette still between his lips. There were a few people on the streets, or more accurately in the street. A woman with a horrified look on her face ran past El Guapo so fast he could feel the draft in her wake. He turned back around and saw that four people were running at him!
All four appeared disheveled and dirty but they were not homeless. They were zombies, fast zombies. El Guapo quick-drew his Desert Eagle and took pumped two shots into the lead creature’s chest. It had little effect.
Isis: “No! Head! Head!”
Gil: “But my character doesn’t know that yet… hey, since my
shots should have already killed him, can I take a shot?”
El Guapo took careful aim at the
lead zombie it was almost upon him. He pulled the trigger and completely
missed. The lead zombie grappled his weapon-arm.
El Guapo: “Sh@#! Sh@#! Sh@#!”
The second zombie was also upon him
and grabbed a hold of his other arm biting into his forearm. Fortunately, it
only tore the heavy material of his duster sleeve. The other two zombies were close.
He strained his wrist to point his weapon at the first zombie. Its head burst
like a ripe melon covering El Guapo in a thick and rancid coating blood and
brains. He turned his pistol on the second zombie again. Again, he was
splattered with soupy gore. The third zombie ran at him and he moved just in
time to shove the barrel of his gun in between its bared yellow teeth blowing
out the back of its skull. He was able to put a bullet between the eyes of the
last from a comfortable distance.
Gil: “Holy crap! I almost died… it only takes ONE bite huh? Crap!”
Meanwhile, in the club, Wesley was behind one of the giant hanging Persian rugs along the wall at the rear of the club near the alley exit. She and her Goth-Beau had their hands under each other’s clothes and going at it all hot and heavy. It was a well-known make-out place called the “tapestries” and to go behind them had become local slang for “let’s go do some heavy petting”. Wesley’s Goth-Prince had just unzipped his tight leather pants at her behest when she heard some screams. The sounds of dozens of trampling feet just on the other side of the carpet overwhelmed even the loud club music. Then she was pinned against her guy by innumerable bodies on the other side of the tapestry. She could barely breathe. A crush of people coming in from the alleyway was suffocating them!
It took her a while to push her way
along the wall and into the dense, panicking crowd. She could see people being
trampled on the dance floor and see others being attacked or attacking, biting
and scratching. The scene was insane and terrifying, the music abruptly cut-off
and all that could be heard after through ringing ears were stomping feet and
screaming.
Jenn (joyously): “Alright! Now I can pull out my MP4!”
Me (the GM): “What!? You couldn’t carry that thing into the
club!”
Jenn: “Why not? It says it’s a machine pistol in the book.”
Me: “YES… it’s an SMG… *sigh*”
A few minutes of explanation later…
Me: “It’s in the trunk of Lilith’s car.”
Immediately, as the chaos began to spread, Lilith raced from her mark down onto the stairs to spot for her friends. She desperately messaged them on her phone. El Guapo was outside but Wesley was still near the back of the club. Fortunately, Lilith was able to spot her just as the fleeing crowd pushed her to the ground. Lilith leaped to action over the brass banister and made it easily to her friend in time to pick her up from the floor. They fled towards the entrance. The crowd pushed them along like a mudslide then suddenly as the flood of people hit the bottleneck to the entrance the riptide of the crowd forced the pair apart.
Lilith was pushed backward, Wesley
was knocked to the carpet immediately taking a few kicks to the stomach, and as
she struggled to rise using the wall, had the wind knocked out of her when
another club-goer was forced into her catching her in the gut with an elbow.
She blacked out when a knee smashed into her face while falling to the floor.
The next thing she was aware of was hanging on to Lilith’s shoulder for dear life
and tasting the blood flowing from her nose as they ran out into the already
crowded streets.
The bruised pair of women spotted
their friend, El Guapo, inspecting some dead bodies lying on the pavement. He
had a smoking gun in his hand. They shouted to him and the trio agreed to meet
around the corner in their vehicles and get out of dodge post haste.
Lilith and Wesley ran to the parking structure via the caged-in pedestrian ramp, Lilith had parked her Chevy on the second level. As they beat it up the ramp they stopped when a twitching and badly wounded man blocked their path. He immediately charged them. Wesley immediately drew her Desert Eagle and put a hole in his chest but to no effect. As a result, Lilith quick-drew the twin Desert Eagle from the small of Wesley’s back. Her bullet nailed the zombie in the forehead blowing a fair portion of its head off spattering Wesley with blood.
Wesley: “My gun? You pulled my gun from my back?”
Lilith: “Yeah.”
Wesley: “Don’t do that again.”
They made it to their car as another zombie charged them from across the structure. As they backed up, they knocked it back with the rear bumper then peeled out of the garage. Wesley called El Guapo. He was already at the agreed-upon nearby intersection, it was quickly becoming “a clusterf@#k”.
Choked
Later, on their way out of the city, they ran into an intersection choked with cars and crowded with zombies rushing over them like a wave of piranha. They immediately turned around by running over the curb and onto the sidewalk avoiding the other cars as they also entered that trap and crashed in desperate attempts to escape. After driving excessively fast through a maze of strangely empty residential streets they finally drove onto the Old County Highway. All let out a sigh of relief. They had agreed to hold up at Lilith’s dad’s place, the Wrecking Yard.
They had been driving for a good
while along the completely darkened road well over the county border when their
headlights glared back at them off a dense yellow fog flowing over the road. It
was gas coming from the stalled tanker on the side of the road. The very same
tanker they had passed hours ago on their way to the club. They stopped a fair distance
away, should the wind change. The bulging tank had apparently ruptured.
Lilith: “Screw it, I’m gonna ram right through it!”
Wesley: “What about the gas!?”
Lilith (shrugging): “Just roll up the window. I’ll go real
fast through it, or hold your breath.”
El Guapo: “What about
me!? I’m totally exposed!”
Lilith: “Then get in the car!”
El Guapo: “I’m not leaving my bike.”
Because of the gas, they decided to
not risk it and go around the long route via the country back roads. These
roads were rough, completely unlit, and mostly dirt. There was the occasional
old house and group of trailers as they drove. They did slow pace as to avoid
getting stuck in a rut, hitting a rock, or running into the deep drainage
ditches on the side that were becoming increasingly frequent. They were finally
nearing the highway. However, a few hundred feet from the highway just after
the sharp turn in the dirt road Lilith skidded to a stop. El Guapo rumbled up
alongside. A trailer home hauled by an old pickup sat jackknifed across the
road blocking it. The pickup was still idling.
El Guapo: “Aw crap.”
Wesley: “Well I’m not getting out of the car. Isn’t there a
way around?”
The trio looked for a way around
the vehicle but the drainage ditches on either side were too wide and deep to
cross. If they tried, they would inevitably be stuck. El Guapo dismounted his
chopper, pulled a machete hidden in a scabbard behind one of the saddlebags on
the back of his bike, then slid it into his belt.
El Guapo: “*Sigh* Okay, I’ll go c’mon.”
Wesley (handing Lilith the 9mm from the glove box): *Sigh* “Okay.”
Lilith: “I’ll stay here and keep my headlights on.”
El Guapo slowly and carefully moved
around the trailer followed closely by Wesley. Both disappeared from Lilith’s
view. EL Guapo walked up to the cab of the idling truck and saw that the keys,
to his relief, were still in the ignition.
Isis: “Well, yeah it’s idling.”
Gil: “Oh yeah, hehe.”
El Guapo: “But that trailer. There’s probably something in
there.”
So, El Guapo decided to walk, very
quietly and carefully, to one of the trailer windows. Indeed, he could see
something moving in there.
Meanwhile, back at the car, Lilith was cradling her gun. A pair fists pounded on the driver’s side window. She immediately shot the zombie through the window.
The trailer door burst open and four zombies charged El Guapo. A large bearded zombie with its throat ripped out tried to tackle him but it missed, he took the opportunity to blow out its brains. He tried to shoot another that charged him but he hit its belly instead. Wesley aimed her paired Desert Eagles and dropped two more leaving only the one with a hole in its stomach standing. Two zombies then rose from the bed of the pickup, one armed with a shotgun which it fired mostly by accident. The shot missed entirely. The second leaped from the bed and tried to tackle El Guapo but fell flat on its face in the dirt.
Wesley felt a hand on her shoulder
and turned to shoot nearly killing Lilith, who had carelessly prowled around
the trailer to her friends. The last trailer zombie grabbed El Guapo’s gun-hand,
in response he whipped the machete from his belt and chopped off the creature’s
arm. Wesley dropped the one-armed zombie splattering its head all over herself
and her friends with a double-shot to its cranium.
Lilith put a bullet in the brain of
the zombie on the ground. El Guapo took a shot at the shotgun zombie but
missed. Wesley finished it destroying its head with another double-shot from
her paired weapons.
El Guapo: “Okay, I guess we better check the trailer?”
Wesley: “Uk! Do we have to?”
Lilith: “You first.”
Wesley went all the way to the rear of the trailer finding a bloody mess but no more creatures. Wesley and El Guapo were in the middle of the trailer standing by the closed bathroom door. They both could hear something moving around in there but were busy arguing about if they should open it. Then they started arguing about who should open it and who should wait to shoot. Of course, the door shattered and a small zombie, an undead child, charged Lilith. El Guapo missed horribly with his machete lodging it in the doorjamb. Lilith blew the back of the kid’s head out all over the toilet.
Wrecked
Finally, the trio arrived at the chain-link gate of the wrecking yard. The old-style billboard sign stood at an angle facing both the dirt and gravel driveway and the highway. The dirty faded white face of the old sign read Fletcher & Sons Wrecking & Repair since 1965. There was an old barely visible picture of a red tow truck next to the name. El Guapo sneered her family name was Flecha Hierro. Lilith got out, opened the lock & chain on the gate, and rolled it open. At this time in the morning, the gate should already have been open, the yard workers should have already opened the place up. However, the reality of last night began to slowly collapse on top of each of the trio’s heads.
They had a brief discussion and decided to “beef up” the car and get on the move as soon as possible, at least by tomorrow morning. Lilith pulled her car into the large corrugated steel garage and started work immediately, too energized with adrenaline to sleep, Wesley assisted. El Guapo asked where the office was finding out that there was not only television but also a CB and Shortwave radio system. The door to the office was at the rear of the garage past the tall warehouse shelving packed with new and old auto-parts. He tried to ask a few more questions but Lilith was not listening completely focused on her task. Wesley shrugged. So, El Guapo started around the shelves into the dark rear of the garage.
He soon saw the office door,
‘office’ painted in plain block letters across the bottom of the frosted glass
window of the old grease smeared door. Something groaned and El Guapo froze in
his tracks. His hand crept to the grip of his gun. The groaning was coming from
the wheelbarrow next to the office door. He saw a body lying there starting to
move. It was dressed in old, worn and oil-stained coveralls. He readied to
shoot taking careful aim and then the body raised a half-empty whiskey bottle
to its mouth. El Guapo sighed realizing he had almost shot Lilith’s alcoholic
father. Her father emptied the last drink and tossed the bottle mindlessly away
then gurgled and passed back out.
Soon enough he had found and was operating the CB radio. On the emergency channel, an evacuation message was mechanically repeating itself. It said something about a checkpoint at the far end of the county and a few others around the perimeter of the city limits as well. Next to him on another table was an array of security monitors that someone had forgotten to turn off. He glanced over and saw that the front gate and other areas around the vast junkyard had fixed security cameras.
He turned back to the CB trying to
find some paper and a pen to jot down the message details. He finally found
what he was looking for after a few more minutes and then he glanced over at
the monitors. At the front gate were a pickup and several choppers. He saw that
a few bikers had already skipped the barbed-wire topped fence and soon
disappeared out of view. They appeared armed.
Lilith had a welder’s mask on and
was welding some sheet steel to the side of her car, completely focused and
obsessing. Wesley had just set down some heavy steel poles. Lilith had
requested them. She would build the cowcatcher from them. Wesley stretched her
back and took in a deep breath. She heard a slight noise to her left and turned
to see a double-barrel sawed-off shotgun shoved into her face.
There were three bikers with guns
at the wide entrance to the garage. The guy farthest from them was wielding an A-K.
All were wearing the colors of the Black Skulls OMC.
Biker with Shotgun: “We’re gonna
take what we want … PUT YER F*#$IN’ HANDS UP!!! Now. Where’s the gas?”
El Guapo stepped out of the shadows like a gunfighter of old and put a single bullet in the shotgun-wielding biker’s forehead. With that, Lilith pulled out a 9mm, her personal firearm, and drilled some holes in the A-K biker’s chest, he dropped his rifle but was still standing, a confused look on his bearded face. Wesley pulled her paired Desert Eagles and dropped both of the remaining bikers. El Guapo ran over and picked up the AK-47 shouting, “they’re at the gate!”
He jumped behind some wrecks near the front of the yard and then peeked around the corner. A second later, he unleashed a full burst on the bikers waiting behind the gate. He knew he had killed a biker sitting on his chopper. Wesley shot into the pickup’s windshield killing the driver and the passenger. The rest of the bikers, under a hail of bullets, retreated swiftly.
Jenn (to Gil): “I am SO glad you didn’t miss this time!”
The horizon began to burn brilliant
blinding silver scorching away the beautiful bands of gold and orange of dawn.
The trio moved the bodies from the truck then dragged them around the back,
behind the garage. They pulled the pickup and the custom chopper into the yard
locking the gate behind them.
Epilogue or Dawn of the Doomed
Early morning. Lilith distracting herself with a side project out of nowhere, making leather gauntlets with steel plates for Wesley. It would be around 3 pm, after hours of wrenching madly and non-stop, when she finished armoring the car and adding an improvised cowcatcher in place of the front bumper. The other two passed out utterly exhausted. All three were safe… for now.
After a forced march around the parade ground and a breakfast of fruit, veggies, and bread in the mess, Afheesh (played by your dear narrator) went to the bursar. He collected the previous day’s pay, 95 bronze thorns (it would have been 100 but for the 5% Mezcor tithe). He spent the rest of the morning atop the thorns above the gates spotting for incoming caravans.
Less than an hour into the shift on the battlements, the rest of the guards, Thorn-runner ratlings like him, were asleep. In frustration, Afheesh approached the ratling wearing the captain’s helm, also snoring in a dirty corner. The helmet was a bronze peaked open helm with a thorn design around the edges and a faded and ratty red-dyed horsetail, there was a groove just above the brow for a turban wrap, which was missing. Portions of the bronze were badly tarnished other spots were polished to mirror shine. The helmet did sport some signs of combat, blade gashes and multiple dents, all old and oxidized.
The snoring ratling once wakened turned over the helmet without argument. When Afheesh shouted out commands it only elicited grumbles and groans from the rest, so he spent the time marching up and down the guard walk occasionally glancing outside. All was business as usual.
When his shift was finally over, Afheesh went to return the captain’s helmet.
Formerly Snoring Ratling: “Just toss it in the corner. That’s where I found it. The sun was in my eyes there so…”
He stumbled off leaving Afheesh standing there looking perplexed. Eventually Afheesh threw the worn helm against a wall putting a new dent into the old bronze. He left in a huff.
Later, after first stopping by the White Rose Perfumery to purchase some sleep-poison, Afheesh met up with his cohorts at the inn for some dinner. Then they made their way to the Caskroom. There was a single remaining target to eliminate there, the bartender. It was not long before Wufcor (played by Isis) and Afheesh were engaged in a full-blown fight versus the bartender and the cook, the latter armed with a longsword. Meanwhile, Sikeek (played by Jenn) was off picking pockets of the onlooker mercenaries that populated the rear tables and benches.
After the ratlings already slaughtered the two bar-backs, the mercenaries jumped up and pursued Sikeek and Wufcor who were fleeing through the back door. Unseen, Afheesh broke off and ran out of the front door, then turned, shouted, and laughed at the mercs distracting them long enough for his other two coconspirators to flee.
The next day Afheesh got himself onto a patrol that protected the streets around “the good blocks” and took the opportunity to familiarize himself with the place. The day went slowly until a fight broke out in the Blue Lotus Well plaza among street toughs, the captain let them go after they paid a hefty “fine” which he cut the rest of the guards in on, Afheesh’s cut was 30 bronze thorns. Eventually, Afheesh was able to spot his goal, a young woman who presumably lived alone in one of the apartments. He had taken note of the building and got her apartment number by stalking her. He could feel his new troll-make weapons in his grubby little claws already.
After his shift was over, Afheesh went to the Last Rest Inn to his room to change his outfit. Afterwards, he walked to the Dancing Rat to try to find the other two. As he entered the rowdy establishment, he spotted a female ratling leaving with a familiar backpack cradled in her paws. As a result, he barred her way and did everything he could to try to snatch the pack back. However, she was highly agile and dodged nearly everything he could throw at her. Nevertheless, she had to drop the pack to recover from a successful trip when he hooked one of her legs with one of his weapons.
Afheesh snatched up his companion’s presumably stolen backpack. He introduced himself to the she-rat impressed with her skills. Her name was “Riknik” and she was not interested in working for anybody but herself. With that, she turned to run. Afheesh snatched one of five coin purses at random in the pack and tossed it to her before she ran away.
Afheesh: “Here! You earned this!”
Riknik (as she ran): “I owe you nothing!”
Afheesh shrugged.
Sure enough, when Afheesh entered the place he immediately spotted Wufcor asleep with his head on a table. Riknik, if that indeed was her name, had drugged him.
Later, Sikeek and Afheesh were dragging an unconscious Wufcor through the streets to Afheesh’s room at the Last Rest Inn. Suddenly, charging them from an alley buried in garbage came three giant centipedes.
Me (at GM Cris): “Again!?”
GM Cris: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The battle was brief but Wufcor was almost dragged away to be eaten. Eventually they got their companion to the room. Morning came and they parted ways once again pledging to make the Dancing Rat their common meeting place.
On the way to guard duty, Afheesh passed by a sanctioned duel with a green robe behind each fighter. It was a disappointingly quick match. The two brothers of the Green Well exchanged two handfuls of gold.
Afheesh (laughing derisively): “With that much money changing hands you’d think you’d get better fighters! Aha-ha-ah! I could’a taken ‘em both on! Aha-ha-ha-ha!”
All the ratling got in passing were several dirty looks. Afheesh served out his guard duty at the West Gate and in the course of the afternoon accepted a bribe from some Troll Boy gang members earning a 75 bronze thorn “bonus”. Later, he went to the Dancing Rat finding his companions there. Sikeek was drunk after losing a drinking contest sitting alongside another scrawny ratling named Needles (played by Natalie). Wufcor was sitting next to them quietly drinking keeping his drinking jack close.
Afheesh (to Needles): “So, you have any skills?”
Needles: “Aw yeah, I got all the skills! What you need, I got it! I’m good with weapons and I could balance on a leaf!”
Needles back-flipped easily onto the tabletop and Afheesh easily tripped him by hooking his ankle. Having fallen face-first, Needles suffered a bloody nose. In disgust, especially as Needles started to cry, Afheesh turned his back on the scrawny ratling and addressed the other two.
Afheesh: “We have a mission let’s go!”
Sikeek grumbled as she rose from her seat.
Sikeek (motioning to the bawling Needles): “Come along, you’re good for a laugh.”
Afheesh (mumbling angrily): “And for fodder.”
On the way to their goal, five giant cockroaches swarmed from the Blue Well itself. The fight did not last long but Needles proved himself very inefficient in combat. He was unarmed and punching the giant bugs doing nothing but annoying his enemies and allies until Wufcor tossed him a dirk. Needles killed the last with a single blow. However, as he almost died from a single bite he ran off to the nearest White Star guild. The others continued on their way to the target apartment.
After sneaking past guards and picking the lock on the door, the ratlings prepared to burgle the place. However, after carefully opening the door so that there would be no sound a human fighter in a bronze chest-plate, a full bronze helm, and short sword confronted them.
Us (the players): “What!? Really!?”
GM Cris: “Hey, he natural 20’d the listen when you guys approached the door.”
The pair of guards walked in, one with a bottle of wine, the other placing the key in his satchel. He lit an oil lamp and then set to lighting the fireplace. Afheesh (played by yours truly) from just up inside of the flue, could hear the second guard pop and pour the wine. He was shaking with anticipation. His vengeance was soon at hand. Two thuds on the floor indicated that their helmets were off.
The first grabbed some logs from the woodpile next to the fireplace. Just as the first guard knelt down to place the first log into the hearth, Afheesh picked a chunk of cinder from the inside of the chimney and flung it down. Of course, the first guard poked his head in to check it out.
Suddenly, Afheesh dropped down and stabbed him in the neck. Wufcor (played by Isis) leapt from his hiding place under a table stabbing the reeling guard in the back. Sikeek (played by Jenn) sprung from her dark corner and stabbed the wine guard who then snatched a fighting spear from the wall. Afheesh redoubled his efforts against the first guard nailing him again but the guard’s chainmail absorbed most of the damage. Sikeek moved in on the other guard and slashed him.
Wufcor struck at the first guard wounding him badly. He in turn pulled the spiked mace from his belt and desperately swung the weapon at Wufcor accidently smashing a small table. The second guard struck at Sikeek with his spear barely missing. Afheesh ran the first guard through with both of his weapons killing him instantly. He and Wufcor then turned their attentions towards the spear-bearer.
Sikeek struck out and got a good hit in on the spear-bearer. Wufcor ran in and jabbed him in the back causing the blood to run. He thrust at Sikeek catching her in the belly. The small ratling stumbled backward from the fight (requiring a recovery check to keep from dropping). Afheesh leapt in missing with one weapon and hitting with the other but again the guard’s armor lessened the blow significantly. Wufcor tried to get in the last stab but tripped over his own feet. The spear-bearer lunged at Sikeek once again but missed then swung the butt of his weapon around and smashed her in the skull. Sikeek stumbled back once again nearly passing out.
Afheesh lashed out with both of weapons but the haft of the guard’s spear easily parried both blows away. Wufcor moved in and stabbed him again. He thrust then swung with the butt of his spear but missed both times. Afheesh landed the killing blow through the guard’s clumsy defense (a Natural 1 parry).
The blood was still pooling as the trio of ratlings looted the place and cracked the lock off a chest. They absconded with 5 gold talons, 6,000 bronze thorns, a low-quality bullwhip with a butt-spike, a silver ear-cuff, and a high quality dirk.
Thinking that no one was looking, Sikeek found a secret compartment at the bottom of the chest discovering a gold and ruby ring, and a sack of 6,000 bronze thorns and 4 gold talons.
Afheesh (to Sikeek): “Good, we each get more shares!”
Sikeek: “But I found this…”
Afheesh: “And we both saw you. So now, it’s group shares. Besides you’re a hired dagger or would you rather be dead?”
Sikeek (turning over the loot to Wufcor): “Aww man.”
Meanwhile, Wufcor tried to get away with the 900 bronze thorns he found on the corpses to Afheesh’s chagrin.
Wufcor: “Don’t kill me boss! See, I’m putting it in the group PILE!”
Afheesh gritted his teeth and the trio began to file out into the street after vacating the apartment building. However, just as they broke out onto the street they ducked swiftly back into the cover of a shadowed corner. A gang of roaches with a Mantck leader was out front obviously looking for trouble. There were too many to deal with at this point. The ratlings easily snuck past the gangsters and proceeded to travel to their other mark’s home in another apartment building to the south.
Soon enough, the trio clustered around a sturdy locked wooden door in a narrow plastered ill-lit hallway. There were only a couple of clay chamber pots set outside the doors aside for the sparse lamp lit niches in the walls. The smell was not pleasant.
Afheesh (to Sikeek): “Okay thief, get to crackin’ that lock.”
Sikeek: “Hey, c’mon guys, we already have money. Let’s just get outta here.”
Afheesh: “No…hey weren’t you badly wounded a little while ago?”
Jenn: “Yeah, healing potions. That guy almost killed me in a single hit TWICE back there!”
Sikeek: “So, I really don’t wanna go in there guys. C’mon, we already got some cash…I need to roll some BONES!”
Wufcor (flashing a piece of quartz to Sikeek): “Betcha can’t open that lock.”
The Canny-Jack (Wufcor) put his ear to the door as Sikeek went to work on the lock.
Again, Wufcor (in a hushed tone): “Hmm…I think I can hear him. Sounds like he’s messing with …metal stuff?”
Sikeek kept trying the lock but its artisanship kept evading her skill. After three tries at it, finally the click of success tweaked their twitching ears.
Afheesh had his back against the wall opposite the door ready to pounce. He was huffing in the foul air of the hallway with every deep breath. His needed to quell his thirst for vengeance.
Afheesh (through clenched teeth, yeah he knew this was a bad idea): “Let’s do this.”
Sikeek slowly opened the door while trying to stay under cover. The door came to a creaking stop and revealed the guardsmen, their target, in full chainmail wielding a bronze shield and a great sword replete with bronze great helm.
Guardsman: “You Ratling thieves have come to die eh!?”
What ensued was a deadly dance of whirling weapons, lightning reflexes, and sheer luck. Eventually, Wufcor buried his blade in the guardsman’s kidney nearly killing him then Afheesh followed up with a paired weapon strike ultimately downing their prey. Their enemy had not landed a single blow in two full rounds of combat. Afheesh felt some satisfaction standing over the body of the last guard against whom he had pledged vengeance. Vengeance indeed tasted sweet. However, he was now also eager to hurt the Roaches in any way possible.
As before, the ratlings ransacked the place, again finding a chest, and again breaking the lock and absconding with a fat sack of coin. Inside they had found a bag of 4,000 bronze thorns, a bone pipe with a bowl carved into an eagle’s head, a pouch of high quality smoking herbs, and 5 gold talons. They also looted 400 bronze thorns from the corpse. The three eventually landed in a room, rented by Afheesh, at the Last Rest Inn where they split the take. Afheesh netted 4,566 bronze thorns, 4 gold talons, and took the silver ear cuff. “Not a bad start”, he thought.
After the dividing of the spoils, Afheesh and Wufcor decided to cut Sikeek in on a standard share instead of paying her thereby welcoming her into the crew. Shortly thereafter Wufcor and Sikeek left. The latter mentioning something about getting “one more game in” before dawn. Afheesh settled in for some well-deserved rest. Thoughts of making the Roaches suffer never far from his mind.
A few days later, the pair of ratling villains, Afheesh (played by yours truly) and Wufcor (played by Isis), walked through the crowded streets at evening. The pair neared the plaza of the Blue Well and the Dancing Rat Tavern. They were going to drown their sense of loss in a sea of cheap booze. Even possibly work off some frustration in low stakes fights there and then maybe start recruiting for their own gang. The roguish pair stepped up to the saloon doors.
Overgrowth partially buried the tavern building underneath the snaking thorny vines of the Thorn-Ring. The hedge of thorns that serves as Tangelthorn’s city defenses along gatehouses and partial fortifications at all four compass directions. The thorns spilled over the top of the three-story building canopy-like and wrapped tightly around the eastern half, the thorny vines at grips with the alien waxy-orange masonry. The ratling companions strutted into the yellow lit, smoke flooded tavern.
The thorn-creepers had extended into the bar itself cramping what could have been a spacious establishment. The woody vines shaped into a second tier in the western half of the combo taproom/common-room was crowded both atop and underneath with ratlings most bearing the light golden brown hair of thorn-runners. Tending the bar itself were ratlings and a human bar-back. On the far end, a half-troll sat on the floor wedged into his cramped station overseeing the all-sorts barrel. It was 1 copper bit (copper piece of eight) to dip your jack, no fliks accepted.
Layer after layer of compacted filth interspersed with sawdust and straw covered the floor. A fresh layer of straw and sawdust added a welcome fresh vegetable musk to the somewhat fowl and smoke-thickened air. Large scorched areas attested to the fact that the place was a fire hazard. As a result, there were water buckets on both sides of the entrance and the side door as well as behind the bar.
However, the ratling patrons used the water-filled buckets to relieve themselves thus adding a certain unmistakable bouquet to the place. It also made the extinguishing of the frequent fires a most disgusting affair. Even so, patrons still lit matches from the straw on the ground using the enclosed candle lanterns (no open flames allowed) often absentmindedly tossing them back to the floor.
The pair of beleaguered ratlings shuffled in among the rowdy crowd. Most of the tables were occupied, both of small and average size, with raucous rogues slinging down copious amounts of cheap grog and sour wine. Crowding the rear of the place, patrons at the gambling tables eagerly lost their shirts, some literally, to the house dice.
Afheesh and Wufcor settled into a couple stools at the ratling end of the bar the occupants wisely vacating their seats after being told to “scram”. Afheesh bought a pitcher of low quality ale fortified with some sort of cheap grain alcohol. As they commenced getting “sloshed”, a scrawny ratling sidled up to the disheartened pair.
This ratling was brown with white-grey spots on her face. She had on a wool jerkin, leather gauntlets, and had a horn-handled bowie knife at her side. She seemed a viable candidate for their gang.
The Ratling (very excitedly): “Hey Guys! I’m Sikeek! You wanna go throw some bones in the corner?”
The pair shrugged and joined Sikeek (played by Jenn) in a corner and started throwing dice. After a few small wins, Afheesh tossed a piece of quartz onto the table.
Afheesh (to Sikeek): “If you can’t pay the losses after this round against me, you’ll work off your debt in my service!”
Sikeek agreed to the terms and easily took Afheesh for his money. Apparently, Sikeek was a very skilled gambler. After that, the conversation turned to her weapon skill. She assured them that her skills at the gaming tables matched those of her roguery. As a result, Wufcor and Afheesh took her on as a hired dagger to their cause.
Later, all three were well pickled and Sikeek’s appetite for gambling whetted. Wufcor and the new employee headed to a squat in the north. Afheesh went back to the guard barracks to catch some rest.
Early the next evening, Afheesh found himself hiding on a roofline. Wufcor hid in an adjacent alley and Sikeek was “acting casual” while leaning against a nearby corner. They were staking out the Cask Room to observe the three guards against which Afheesh had a vendetta (see last episode – Rats of Tanglethorn Pt.10: All These Roaches). They watched as two of the three guards approached the place from the west and a little while later the third from the north. The doors to the Cask Room seemed to have been opened from the inside to allow them egress.
The ratlings watched carefully and took mental notes. They also followed the guards when they left late at night. They repeated this the next day.
That night, the ratling trio had just broken up and Afheesh was loitering around the streets hoping to run into members of the Roaches street gang. He was hungry for trouble. Instead, he ran directly into a troll. The same troll that he had encountered almost two weeks prior. The little ratling recognized that massive iron maul, “Skull-Biter”, which was slung over the monster’s hill of a shoulder.
This time instead of panicking, Afheesh decided to try to strike a deal with this troll. The troll ability to forge extraordinary weaponry well-known and renowned in Tanglethorn. It was not long before Afheesh had struck a deal with Snotnack the troll. If the ratling were to bring the troll a beautiful human woman, he would and give the ratling a reward. He would forge a pair of weapons just like those that he now bore but “better”. For his new hook-guard daggers in three days, the ratling had to bring the young woman to the orange well. He would also have to call the troll’s name into the well. Of course, Snotnack bullied Afheesh into accompanying him all night long anyway.
By morning, Afheesh was exhausted and later in the evening was late for the third day of tracking the guards. This time, the trio was able to track two of the guards to a single apartment. The next night, the ratlings went to the apartment just before the time the guards would be getting off work. Sikeek picked the lock although it took a few tries. She popped the lock just before the pair of guards came up the stairs. The ratlings carefully shut the door and turned the lock, jaunted quickly to hiding places around the well-furnished room, and waited for their prey. Their ears perked as the lock turned and the door opened.
Three gang members ran in through the shattered front door of the abandoned warehouse armed with loaded crossbows. They spotted out Pabst (played by Jenn) and one took a shot. She knocked the bolt aside with her buckler (more of a targe but virtually the same in game terms). Afheesh (played by yours truly) pulled his paired weapons, matching variants on the sai, and lashed out at the Mantck who was blocking his egress through the rear door. The first blade stung the intruder but the second easily parried by a cutlass. Afheesh turned to see Wufcor (played by Isis) leap from his hiding place and engage with five more Roaches who had surrounded Pabst. Pabst lashed out with her scimitar missing horribly. Afheesh turned his full attention back to the Mantck.
The Mantck slashed with his paired cutlasses, missing badly with one and the other parried easily by the ratling Quickling. Afheesh retorted striking deep with a single strike, the other deflected harmlessly away. Two thugs behind the Mantck pushed their way through the doorway as Afheesh took this opportunity to strike at both once each with his weapons. One of his narrow blades struck home, the other clinched by a short sword. The battle between the other two street mercs and the hordes of Roaches raged behind Afheesh where he could not see the fate of his two companions only hear the clash of steel.
It was at this moment that the Mantck took this opportunity to hack at the ratling while his human accomplice kept the clinch on the Quickling’s right arm and weapon. Afheesh was barely able to swat aside the Mantck’s double cutlass strike with a single weapon. He tried to break the clinch but failed. The Mantck took another paired weapon strike but again parried by Afheesh’s left-handed weapon.
In a desperate gambit, Afheesh reversed the clinch hooking the thug’s wrist with his weapon. With his second weapon, Afheesh stabbed the Mantck further wounding him. The Mantck responded hacking into the ratling’s side after a failed parry attempt (Natural 1). Both blades glanced of Afheesh’s tiny ribs. Horribly wounded he started to bleed out. The human thug broke loose of Afheesh’s hook. Breathing hard, the little ratling glanced around on the edge of panic looking for an escape, any escape. He spied through a window, the boards having been knocked out by the surge of Roaches, a naga with a large scythe on her back amongst the horde of gang members.
In a last ditch move Afheesh tucked and dove between the legs of those gangsters blocking the door. However, Roaches overflowed the alley, their daggers and swords bared and thirsty. In response, Afheesh leapt to the wall and used his supreme parkour skills to scale the bricks up to the roof all the while narrowly avoiding flurries of enemy blades. He found dozens upon dozens of thugs already atop the roof!
Cris (the GM): “They’re all heavily muscled and full of gang tats too.”
Me (to GM Cris): “So they have street gangster levels?”
GM Cris: “Yup. They look very experienced.”
Me: >:(
He made a quick survey of the roofline intending to jump to another roof. All of the surrounding roofs were populated with Roaches bearing loaded crossbows. Afheesh barley dodged several poisoned crossbow bolts that flew at him imbedding themselves in the bricks.
Me: “POISONED!?”
GM Cris: “Well yeah! They’re not taking any chances!”
Afheesh jumped onto the roof and ran around gaining momentum avoiding the clumsy strikes of the gangsters and leapt onto a neighboring roof tucking and tumbling as he landed followed by the thud, thud, thud of misguided poisoned bolts. He kept running as he bled finally escaping the few human-led ratlings that tried to pursue him over the building tops. Eventually he stumbled over the threshold of the local White Star guild where he collapsed.
An hour or so later Afheesh came to. The White Star had treated his wounds and taken their pay from the coin on his person, and no more. The ratling thanked them and left before they could go into their “would you like to come and pray with us” shtick. Although exhausted at this point, he had to find his friends.
At the Caskroom Tavern, Afheesh found Wufcor the ratling Canny-Jack. Pabst had been killed in the raid and he himself had barely escaped through a window. They sat in silence for a while and then began pounding jacks of ale. Afheesh pledged vengeance against the Roaches and Wufcor concurred with a hearty gulp from his frothing cup. The Canny-Jack mentioned that he did have a lead, there had been a naga bard with the Roaches maybe she could help them get their revenge. Afheesh grabbed the other ratling by the collar to make him lead him to the bard. However, Wufcor just lifted a finger and pointed. She was currently singing some poetry drifting from table to table for tips.
Barely a second later a beggar came to the ratling’s table apparently to beg. As a result, the bard passed their table up. Enraged Afheesh stabbed the man in his neck who then stumbled away and out the door bleeding. After her number was finished, Wufcor waved the bard over. As soon as she sat next to them Afheesh threatened her and got the name Skilneel from her for the Mantck that had fought him during the warehouse raid.
The Bard (played by Natalie): “I’m just gonna go, um.” She got up and slithered over to the bar.
The bard tried to rent a room from the bartender. He told her that there were no vacancies. Afheesh strode up next to her and asked the bartender how much a plate of food ran. The bartender set down a half full tankard in front of him and tossed him a plate of half-eaten food from the other side of the bar in response. So Afheesh smashed him in the face with the tankard and told the bard that she was coming with him and his friend. Wufcor sidled up to her on the opposite side smiling.
The Bard: “Uhm, I’m just gonna leave?”
Afheesh (with one of his paired weapons pointing at her): “If you try to run I’ll kill you.”
Wufcor: “He will, he’ll kill you so don’t run.”
The bartender groggy from the rattling that the Quickling gave him snapped his fingers and three guards ran from a back room. Armed with pikes they wore scale-mail.
Afheesh: “Wufcor. Pull yer weapon!”
The scuffle with the guards was brief. They attacked all three equally, the ratlings and the bard. The latter of who fled through the saloon doors into the street. Wufcor followed, after stabbing at one of the guards a few times.
Guard Captain (to Afheesh): “Ratling! Just leave! Get outta HERE!”
Then the guard captain got in a lucky hit that nearly skewered Afheesh. The ratling tumbled out of the saloon doors and into the street. The other pikes hit the floorboards fortunately missing the little hoodlum by a mile. As Afheesh galloped away from the tavern, he caught sight of the naga bard and Wufcor side by side just ahead. He increased his speed to a full run.
Afheesh flew into the air in mid leap attack and came down on the naga’s back practically nailing her thrashing half-serpent body to the street with both of his weapons. He twisted them as she died then ripped them free, wiped them clean with her hair, and scabbarded them. He stomped off to the White Star guild house once again.
With a tear in his eye, Wufcor looted the bard’s corpse. He then cut a swatch of her scaly skin from her shoulder. Then he sweetly caressed the still warm swatch to his hairy cheek before jaunting off to catch up to his leader.
It was early morning, already the sun was beating down upon the dead yellow dirt, and Afheesh the ratling Quickling was beginning to feel trapped. After a forced march around the parade ground and a breakfast of fruit, veggies, and bread in the mess, Afheesh (played by yours truly) went to the bursar. He collected the previous day’s pay, 95 bronze thorns (pay was 100 but there was the 5% Mezcor tithe). Subsequently, he spent the rest of the morning atop the thorns above the gates spotting for incoming caravans.
Only ratlings were assigned the battlements over the gates as the Thorn Crown had grown over the ramparts ages ago leaving only small tunnels through the winding thorny vines. Moreover, the thorns acted as an additional cover for those manning the hidden crenulations of the gate. Therefore, it allowed the guards, armed with darts and some with crossbows, to fire with impunity on any enemies without the gates. It was also horribly cramped, suffocating, and filthy not unlike the hovels of Thorn-runner ratlings that subsisted within the confines of the thorns surrounding the city.
There was bird mess everywhere, not only the white and black-purple of their droppings streaking the woody vines but clumps of flea-infested feathers, filthy nest litter, and the cacophony of chittering from above where the small birds would alight atop the thorny canopy. The most common birds there being pigeons and shirkes the latter of which were known to impale the uneaten portions of their prey, other smaller birds and rodents, on the thorns. It was getting near noon nearing the end of his shift when he spotted something of interest.
A Hill-Lander caravan pulled up to the south gates with three hill giants in escort. There were four covered wagons, two vardoes, and iron strongboxes chained atop each vardo. The giants and the faun and half-faun drivers were all well-equipped. Consequently, Afheesh was intrigued. As the caravan was allowed entry the ratling excused himself, the rest of the ratling guards were asleep anyway. He trailed the caravan as it made its way north towards the city center and Mezcor’s tower.
Mezcor’s black keep sits at the very center of the city like a single coffin nail holding all the requisite parts of the rotting box together through shear gravity. Every night the single round window at the top of the tower glows with candlelight that burns from behind the purple glass. A high black stone iron spike-topped wall bound it with a single bronze double gate in its southern face. The gates opened of their own accord at dusk revealing the white flagstones at the threshold the engraved message warning “step not beyond the white stones trespasser”. It was here that traveling merchants could expect to toss their tribute lest they incur Mezcor’s curse.
The Hill-landers were evidently confused that the gates were closed. For a brief second Afheesh had considered fleecing them in the name of Mezocr as he strode up to the caravan leader in his guard uniform. However, he was no fool and Mezcor’s curse had proven itself true at an alarmingly constant rate. He kicked one of the giant’s in the toe to gain their attention.
Afheesh (to the lead driver): “What’s this now? Looks like you guys need a surprise inspection!”
The Lead Driver (exasperated): “Hey! We already paid our way in an’a’ gave a little sometin’ o’ tha guards!”
Afheesh (lying in a surprisingly convincing way): “That was for the South Gate guards what about those that secure this road for you?”
The First Giant (his ultra-baritone voice vibrating the ratling’s bones): “Didn’t I jes see ya come from ta gate back dare?”
Afheesh (apparently, he’s a good liar): “No.”
The Lead Driver (with a frustrated sigh): “Okay, here’s some coin…”
Afheesh (cutting him off): “No, give me a bottle of that famous Hill-Lander booze!”
With a sneer, the driver tossed the ratling a bottle of whiskey; it had been previously opened but was still mostly full. Consequently, the little extortionist tucked his prize in his belt and kept a tiny-clawed hand on it at all times.
Afheesh: “Now you lot make sure you pay the proper tithe to Mezcor at dusk!”
The hill-landers all shook their heads in both agreement and realization. Meanwhile, the ratling snatched a good look at their strongboxes and figured the locks though high quality looked easy enough for a crowbar to break or Wufcor to pick. He took his leave and high-tailed it to look for his crew. He intercepted them on their way to one of many taverns. Soon they were back at the warehouse conspiring together.
About an hour later, the ruthless trio found their way to the local market where the Hill-lander caravan had set up shop. Pabst (played by Jenn) strutted over to the merchant. She was going to try to work her charms on the goat-man.
Jenn (to me the plan-maker): “I don’t know why I’m supposed to charm the guy. I can just intimidate them…”
Me: “No! We need a distraction!”
Isis (Wufcor’s player): “Yeah sis! We’re trying to avoid a fight!”
Jenn: “My intimidate is better than my charm.”
Isis: “Nooo.”
She swished over to the head merchant who was eyeballing her suspiciously. Subsequently, Afheesh and Wufcor remained hidden in the shadows of the alley across the way from the shop stalls. Pabst began to work her magic.
The Hill-Lander Merchant: “Get away you ugly wh*#@! We’ll deal with your kind when we get ta da livery tonight! Maybe one a’ these giants would want you! Haw, haw, haw!”
So she decked him.
Isis face-palmed.
Meanwhile Afheesh stripped off his guard uniform and hid it in a trash-barrel. The Hill-Lander merchant cocked his fist back aiming the blow right at Pabst’s face.
The Merchant (just before smashing his fist into Pabst’s nose): “Aw an’ here I thought ya Poisonwood folk were tough!”
Wufcor darted to the stands followed by Afheesh. Her nose bleeding Pabst threw another punch at the merchant opening a cut along his cheekbone. The merchant circled from around his table and popped her good in the jaw. They were now facing off like a pair of street boxers. The crowd including guards gathered round to watch.
Afheesh began to walk nonchalantly towards the tent-back of the hill-lander stall where he believed the strongboxes were located playing it off as if he were watching the brawl. Pabst started talking smack to the merchant then she nearly tripped over her own feet when she went to throw a punch. The merchant tried to take advantage throwing a body blow her way but she knocked his hairy-knuckled fist to the side.
Meanwhile, a large group of gang members, the Roaches, flooded into the area attracted by the chaos and inched their way to towards the stall. Afheesh unawares cut a slash in the tent fabric and rolled into the stall. Outside the stall, the merchant threw a wild punch missing Pabst by a wide margin. Pabst swung and the merchant caught her arm in a clinch. Both fighters were in bad shape, panting, bleeding, and barley standing. The crowd roared for blood. Afheesh looked at the two strongboxes noticing the largest had runic markings over its outer shell. Wufcor rolled in and shimmied to the Quickling’s side.
The merchant caught Pabst in a grapple getting her in a tight headlock. She struggled as hard as she could but his iron grip held her skull fast. That was when Afheesh noticed that the two Roaches standing at the counter had spotted him and Wufcor. They were human, probably street rats and/or thugs maybe thieves. After a few moments of an improvised hand-signal-thieves’-cant back and forth between the ratlings and the Roaches a deal for their silence was worked out. Wufcor then picked the lock easily (Natural 20 picklock check) but immediately struck by an electrical bolt emanating from the runes on the chest. Fortunately, by chance, the crowd had roared at the exact same time concealing any noise.
The crowd groaned as the merchant locked in a chokehold on Pabst’s neck and she went limp her nose exploding as the vessels succumbed to the pressure.
Wufcor (after spotting the result of the brawl): “Oh boy! Time to go!”
Wufcor snatched two full bags from the chest and darted away. Afheesh threw a couple of signals at the pair of Roaches meaning to have them pick up and carry Pabst to the nearest alleyway. He then snatched up the last two full sacks, ran from the back of the canopy, and made his way around as stealthily as possible heading right for the nearest alley.
The ratling’s heart shot up into his eyes when he heard, “Stop THIEF!” He glanced over his sack-laden shoulder and saw that the bleeding and shaken Merchant had spotted him, by pure chance, as he was being taken back to the tent on a pair of his guards’ shoulders. Immediately the three hill-giants roared in unison and the ground began to thunder with their charge.
It took some minutes for the ratling to evade his gigantic and very fast pursuers. However, taking sudden sharp turns and ducking under obstructions that for the most part, the giants had to burst through did the trick. After he was sure that he had lost all three of his pursuers, he circled back around careful to stay in the narrowest of alleys until he was sure he had arrived where he had said he would meet the pair of street rats. He heard a faint whistle and saw the pair of Roaches with Pabst’s unconscious body leaned against a filthy brick wall.
The ratling swiftly checked the sacks; one filled with silver pieces and the other with bits of tanzanite. He tossed them the tanzanite sack and took charge of his friend. The Roaches with which the ratling had canted with gave his name as Neezik. He wasted no time in beating it to the warehouse careful should someone be following. When he met back up with Wufcor he found that the Canny-Jack had a sack of gold pieces and one of quartz.
The split, with Pabst included (she was still out), was 66 gold pieces, 20 quartz, and 166 silver pieces.
Jenn: “Yeah you guys better cut me in!”
The sun was down and the crew put their money away. It was time to decide what to do and where to go for the night.
Suddenly the boards blocking the front entrance smashed down with a crash and blast of dust. Standing in the door are Neezik and an uncountable number of the Roaches street gang. Afheesh dashed to the rear door just in time for those boards to come crashing down. A Mantck ratling wielding paired cutlasses stood in his way. The Quickling could hear dozens of feet outside around the building and dozens more climbing the outside walls and even feet clattering over the top of the roof. Pabst had just come to and both she and Wufcor tried to hide.
Jenn: “Damn! I’m still at K-O POINTS!”
Isis: “Yeah, I’m really bad right NOW! That bolt almost killed ME!”
With the blood of their enemies still fresh on their weapons and dripping from their faces, Afheesh (played by yours truly) and Wufcor (played by Isis) dragged Pabst’s paralytic body (played by Jenn) into a boarded up warehouse a few blocks from the South Gate. They just assumed the place was completely abandoned. Soon after, Afheesh wiped his face and donned his guardsman uniform before beating it back to the barracks.
Afheesh spent early next morning scouting out the grounds of the south-gate-guard-post finding something of interest: a large building next the bursar. The building was windowless save for arrow slits at least two stories above the ground and built of white stone with an iron portcullis and heavy solid bronze doors behind. Before that intimidating edifice leaned several elite guardsmen. Afheesh soon found out that the place was the treasury of the southern guard. At once, a singular fantasy rippled through his tiny rat-brain, that of ripping off the city guard and fleeing from the curse-polluted Poisonwood to the greener pastures beyond.
After a forced march around the parade ground and a breakfast of fruit, veggies, and bread in the mess, Afheesh went to the bursar. He collected the previous day’s pay, 95 bronze thorns (pay was 100 but there was the 5% Mezcor tithe). He spent the rest of the morning beyond the thorns inspecting incoming caravans. Relieved of duty at noon, he went to meet up with the rest of his crew.
Upon returning to the warehouse, he found Pabst fully recovered but also very stoned. At least she had donned the studded leather they had looted from a gang member’s corpse.
Wufcor (shrugging): “She stole some of my leaves and ate ‘em!”
The ratling canny-jack was referring to the leaves he had plucked from the corpse of the Dark Thorn Arborean from the previous night.
Afheesh let out a sigh and excused himself; he was going to find some work. After all, one cannot be a kingpin with no cash. Suddenly, three giant centipedes burst from a pile of garbage just outside of the warehouse and scuttled into the open doorway, Afheesh had apparently forgotten to replace the boards after entering.
Me (at GM Cris): >:|
GM Cris: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Wufcor immediately leapt upon and stabbed the first one through the door. Afheesh pulled his weapons and attacked the same centipede wounding it badly. Pabst stumbled forward and clumsily swung a short sword missing her target completely. The second centipede struck at Pabst but missed. The first wounded centipede got in a lucky shot burying its poison legs into Afheesh’s chest wounding him horribly. Luckily, the ratling was tough enough to resist the monster’s paralytic venom.
Wufcor finished Afheesh’s attacker. Afheesh buried the points of his paired weapons in the second vermin nailing its corpse to the floor. Pabst hacked at the last centipede but her blade bounced harmlessly from its poison-red exoskeleton. Afheesh smashed his blades into the creature wounding it severely leaving Wufcor to finish it with his dagger spilling its verminous innards over the dirty floor.
After wrapping his wounds, Afheesh changed out of his guard uniform. Upset that it now had two large holes in the chest he folded it away. He left his two companions to see what jobs he could rake up, the higher the pay the better. First stop, the Bronze Shield Tavern, in search of Sergeant Neek.
A dense cloud of acrid pipe smoke combined with the stench of alcohol-drowned breath was as thick but nowhere near as fragrant as the sea. The clamor of rollicking patrons and the clatter and shouts from the tables where the bones rolled was deafening. The clientele were almost solely off-duty guardsmen and they were a getting very rowdy butting helms and beating armored chests and small bronze bucklers with daggers and short-swords. It did not take long, even in that noise, for Afheesh to find the sergeant. In turn, Sgt. Neek steered the “little ratling” to one Madame Canica of the Pink Lotus Livery who had a penchant for wearing purple and white silk.
Later at the Pink Lotus Livery, the ratling sat with the Madame. Canica was not overly tall but very heavily built save for the aquiline and sharp boney features of her face with almond shaped eyes set at high angles. The iris of her eyes was a reflective gold color and her pupils slits. Her nose was very small as well hinting at the Naga blood in her veins. This disturbed the ratling on a primordial level.
Over a few glasses of blood red wine, the Madame, a top member of the Livery of Pleasures guild, offered a substantial bounty for the head of the Courtesan Ebiak for leaving her house at 10,000 bronze thorns (bt’s). Soon after leaving that meeting and his head still full of wine, the Quickling easily located his quarry at the Blue Rose Livery. Afheesh rushed back to the warehouse to gather his troops.
As the three street mercs gathered and readied their gear, a loud commotion burst out just outside of the warehouse grabbing their attention. Wufcor and Afheesh strode outside where they saw a small-scale street fight involving the Moths and the Blood Moths. Wufcor shouted at them to stop.
Isis (to the GM): “Hey we gotta protect our territory!”
Afheesh followed suit but the gangsters ignored the pair of ratlings. Because of this perceived insult, the pair pulled their weapons and prepared to wade into the scrap. Pabst immediately charged from behind, past the pair, and directly into the fray.
Pabst hit and wounded the nearest gang member with her short sword. Afheesh on the other hand, spotted out the Moths’ leader and charged him. The gang leader parried one weapon but nailed by the second. He retorted with a massive and accurate blow Afheesh dodging the short sword point by a hair. Another gangster engaged Pabst, she parried and then counter attacked dropping him in a single blow. Wufcor backstabbed “the weakest looking guy” dropping him instantly. A scimitar blade wielded by a Mantck ratling (a medium sized ratling) barely missed Afheesh. Another Mantck struck at Wufcor barely missing the canny-jack.
Desperately, Afheesh stabbed at the leader who clinched the first weapon but the second skewered the man’s belly wounding him badly. However, the leader easily wrenched the clinched psi from Afheesh’s small claw tossing it away. The Mantck on Wufcor easily parried his blow. The other Mantck swung his scimitar at Afheesh barely missing the smaller ratling. Pabstcan attacked another gangster but was caught in a clinch. The Mantck on Wufcor struck at him barley missing.
Afheesh moved towards his lost hook-guard weapon. Wufcor struck with perfect accuracy at the Mantck but was equally masterfully parried. The Moth leader that Afheesh had wounded called for a retreat. He was apparently bleeding out. The opposing Blood Moth leader called his retreat immediately after.
Pabst broke the clinch and as that gangster turned to run, she drove her blade into his spine killing him instantly. Afheesh triumphantly held up his recovered weapon as the last of the street thugs disappeared into the shadows and filthy alleys of the city. After looting the corpses, the split turned out to be 133 bronze thorns each with the remainder going to Pabst her share being 134.
Afheesh eyeballed his crew. They were still in no shape to take on a job at this point. Pabst worse for the wear, stated that she was going to rest for another full day. Wufcor figured why go out to work now, he had just been paid. He was going to go pay for some fun. Afheesh shrugged and went to go procure a cheap room; he had guard duty in the morning.