The Campaign Builder's Guild

Here are the logs from my online game set in the Cadaverous Earth, using a modified version of Iron Heroes.

Bold text is the GM speaking (me).  I've edited out the rolls and the majority of the out of character chatter (i.e. rules discussions, knowledge rolls and other skill checks, and the like).

[ic=Dramatis Personae]Eareg Maar, played by Nomadic, a ghul Gunfighter and Witch; an associate of the Robber Guild known as the House of Crimson Shadows with a lot of hexed tattoos, a demon-possessed rifle named Meteor, and a bone to pick with the scumbag scavenger who sent him to the pits.

Mr. Carver, played by Crow, a human Executioner trying to transcend his own humanity by transforming his body through fleshcraft.  Begins with an extra eye and limb as well as grafted leechkin-muscle and chitin plates; a native of Macellaria, the City of Bodysnatchers.

Lhars, played by Crow, a hagman Hunter, ferryman, guide, and former cultist whose boat, the Spatter Eel, becomes a regular means of transport for the party during their time in Lophius, the City of the Lamprey.

Kaius Alexander, played by The Meanest Guest, a human Armiger of the Insomnolent Guard (the Unsleeping), the living guardians of the Lords Revenant; his exiled grave-spawn patron has recently died, leaving him with a mysterious burden, which becomes key to his own self-fashioning...

The Gorethirst (or, more simply just Gorethirst), played by Llum, a leechkin gladiator renowned for his terrible temper, his physical prowess, and his insatiable appetite, a thirst mitigated only by the Bloodslake Manacles of warded ur-bone that pierce his wrists with arcane nails, allowing a steady flow of crimson to drip into his ravenous palm-mouths.

-Killed by Servius Izar of the House of Untainted Flesh, favored of Striga, in the Fighting Pits of Pulsetown.

Zaszicar, played by Llum, a mutilated lilix gholmuz Man-At-Arms cast out of the Gynocracy; in search of seven legendary, eldritch blades.

Tarim, played by Ghostman, a ghul Witch exiled from the distant theocracy of Marainein for quasi-political "heresy"; intent on reclaiming the arcane prowess his possessed in life and lost (along with the rest of his memories) in undeath; operates a small workshop in the Worm-Hive district.  Also happens to have jewels for eyes.

Cacophonous-Whisper-of-the-Desert, AKA "Wispy," AKA "That Damn Bird," played by Light Dragon, a renegade jatayi Fabler (Bard) and Witch; a somewhat madcap adventurer and occasional thief known for his bouts of impromptu rhyming and kleptomania.

Koldobika Nthanda - Kol for short - played by Coyote Camouflage, a fire-scarred, mute zerda Harrier with a penchant for languages, hoping to reclaim his lost voice so that he can taste words once more; native to the Firesong Marches.

Vetrajhicogojha "Vetter" Shi, played by Kindling, a zerda Weapon Master with the grafted right hand of a clawed, reptilian horror, a broken heart, and a drinking problem; a former thrum-addict, Vetter has spent time in Lophius as well as Macellaria.

Kryzbytn, or Kryz, played by The Weave, a mantid Weapon Master specializing in the scythe; also a failed toymaker missing his wings and his masterpiece, a clockwork mantid soldier, seeking vengeance on the mad cultists who mutilated him and on the leechkin thief who pilfered his prized toy.[/ic]
[ic=Quest Log]Completed:

Escape the Fighting Pits.

(Tarim) Deal with the Inquisitor of Marainein.

Mr. Carver) Track down the Houri and return her to Needlefingers Welterwort.

Obtain a gift of human flesh for the jatayi elders.

(Eareg) Settle your score with the scavenger who put you away.

Defend the cemetery from bodysnatchers for the Sisters of the Weeping Lady.

Put a stop to the grave-robbings for the Sisters of the Weeping Lady.

(Kaius) Meet Mara of the Dogskull Thief Clan at the Laughing Fiend for an employment opportunity.

(Tarim) Investigate the mysterious suicides on the top floor for Quelnefess.

Dispose of the Suicide Statuette.

Kill Glut, leader of the Masticators, and retrieve his metal teeth for Mara.

Retrieve the Festerblade for Cräen.

(Gorethirst) Kill Servius Izar of the House of Untainted Flesh with your bare hands in a public duel for Mr. Rasp (Gorethirst slain).

(Kaius & Tarim) Accompany the Bloodthorn Thief Clansmen while they do a deal with some of the hagmen of Slimesquallor.

(Wispy & Mr. Carver) Procure the glyph-marked chest from Ezekiel Khaan's mansion for Mezzanine and Astragal.

Cleanse Shan-Szut of squatters for the jatayi.

Remove the jatayi from Macellaria for Sebastian Defoin.

(Kaius) Exorcise the gibbergeists in the Tower of Moans with extreme prejudice.

Return the statuette of the Gibbering Goddess to Ulhorin Severus Quis-Xian.

(Eareg) Recapture the escaped elemental for N'leng, the zerda magus.

Protect the fleshtree groves from gorefly swarms.

(Kaius) Decide what to do with Pellucid, the demon in the basement of the Tower of Moans.

(Vetter) Help Ekwanesu repay his debts.

(Kaius) Escape the clutches of the Lord Revenant Vladmir.

(Eareg) Find a relic of the Poxbringers from Chymalea, the City of Creeping Flesh.

(Kryzbytn) Locate Kaius.

Find out what is causing the epidemics in Macellaria.

(Kaius & Kryz) Protect Mistress Vaeza.

(Mr. Carver) Kill Malleus Hexen and retrieve a phial of his blood.

(Kaius) Alert the city concerning Herruku's advancing army.

(Kryz) Free yourself from the Man-in-Armour's domination.

Escort the hagman elder to the Conclave.

Help the Pale Legionnaires retrieve their stolen banner.

Avenge Fiend's death.

Find the Green Beldam.

Locate Clotfeeder.

In Progress:

Find out more about the "Fortress of the Umbral Overlord" marked on Lucretius Nhamorg's map.

Avenge Gorethirst's death.

(Kryz) Retrieve your clockwork mantid soldier and exact vengeance on those who maimed you.

(Kol) Find your words again.

Retrieve the Hand of Mercy from the tomb of the Evisceratress for Lady Fuligina.

Retrieve the Hand of Cruelty from the Citadel of Maledictions for Lady Fuligina.

(Tarim) Recover what you can of your memory.

(Kaius & Tarim) Further investigate the assassination attempt the Cult of the Bloodletter made.

(Tarim) Take vengeance on your former apprentice, the traitorous Thelexean Grell.

Hire the Pale Legion in order to defend Macellaria.

(Eareg) Hire the Centaurs in order to defend Macellaria.

Locate the Lordly Leech for the Pale Legion.

Retrieve the three pearls of the Beast-God for the Green Beldam.

(Vetter) Clear out the slavers for the Queen of Chains.

Impersonate the Serpent Brat.[/ic]
[ic=Locations of Import]This is decidedly not a comprehensive or exhaustive list of interesting or important places but it does cover a fair number.

Macellaria

Taverns, Ghul-Bars, Brothels, and Casinos

The Pickled Serpent (Eel's Gate shanty)
The Blood of Saints (Hexwarren)
The Juice-Addled Octogenarian (Pulsetown)
Erubescence (Pulsetown)
The Rotting Carcass (Pulsetown)
The Laughing Fiend (Resurrection Row)
Death's Gambit (The Skin Markets)
The Reaper's Luck (The Skin Markets)
The Ribcage (The Skin Markets)
Sanguine Bliss (The Skin Markets)
Porphyria (The Skin Markets)
The Ensqualmed Cockatrice (Velveteen Circus)
Wormflesh (Velveteen Circus)
Crimson Joy (Velveteen Circus)
The Melting Candle (Witch's Gate shanty)
The Nubile Grayface (Worm-Hive)

Churches, Temples, and Shrines

The Fane of Dust (Hexwarren)
The Sanguine Church (Pulsetown)
The Shrine of the Wasting God (Resurrection Row)
The Temple of Myx (Slimesquallor)
The Temple of Agnath (Slimesquallor)
The Old Temple of Agnath (Slimesquallor)
The Shrine of the Weeping Lady (Witch's Gate shanty)

Guildhalls

The House of Crimson Shadows Guildhall (Curio Bazaars)
The House of the Tattered Web Guildhall (Curio Bazaars/Resurrection Row)
The House of the Howling Sun Guildhall (Curio Bazaars)
The House of Untainted Flesh Guildhall (Curio Bazaars)
The Palace of Unlikely Doors (Hexwarren)
The Splicing Consortium Headquarters (Hexwarren)
The House of Hungry Ghosts Guildhall (Worm-Hive)

Merchants

Detritus! (Curio Bazaars)
Cog & Bullet (Curio Bazaars)
Murrain Square Poison-Sellers (Hexwarren)
Nigredo (Hexwarren)
The Emporium of Metamorphoses (Hexwarren)
Wind-Up (Hexwarren)
The Flesh is Willing (Hexwarren)
Slave-Market (The Skin Markets)
Beast-Market (The Skin Markets)

Residences

Eareg's Cave (beyond the Butcher's Gate)
Ezekiel Khaan's Mansion (beyond the Eel's Gate)
Kaius' Tenement (Resurrection Row)
Mr. Carver's Clinic (Resurrection Row)
Lady Fuligina's Residence (Velvteen Circus)
Tarim's Shop (Worm-Hive)
The Tower of Moans (Worm-Hive)

Miscellaneous

The Errant Nautilus Imbroglio Parlour (Hexwarren)
The Vellum Citadel (Hexwarren)
The Academy of Witchcraft (Hexwarren)
The Fighting Pits (Pulsetown)
The Hollow Skull Playhouse (Pulsetown)
The Bounty Office (Resurrection Row)
The City Morgue (Resurrection Row)
Masticator Hideout [former Asylum] (Resurrection Row)
Hagman Bathhouses (Slimesquallor)
Jatayi Camp (Witch's Gate shanty)[/ic]

[ic=The Pits]You are in a dim chamber lit only by a sputtering brazier, with a black iron door on one wall and a sturdy wooden one on the other, through which you were shoved by a burly guard after a jagged bone blade was thrust into your hand.  You can hear a dim roaring sound through the iron door, as of many voices wordlessly braying.  Crouched in the gloom about you are a ragged group of fellow prisoners, flesh still red with welts from the gaolor's lash, faces haggard and hungry after days (if not weeks) of maltreatment.  You make a sorry lot: a gaunt, mismatched band of law-breakers with unkempt hair and unshaven faces, garbed in roughspun tatters, each of you clutching your crude dagger.  Even the quick among you look like walking corpses.

* Wispy examines the jagged bone blade for decomposing meat left on it.

* Wispy twists head from side to side.

* Wispy finds no decomposing meat and pouts.

* Wispy feathers and arms folded in front.

* Mr. Carver weighs the blade in his hand, trying to judge its balance.

* Kaius Alexander looks at his blade blankly, you think you detect the faintest hint of disapproval.

* Eareg Maar looks at the blade uneasily, not liking its feel.

* Wispy looks around at fellow prisoners for any recently deceased ones.

* Eareg Maar gives Wispy an odd look.

* Wispy pokes prisoners who may be dead, but who are likely only sleeping.

* Tarim frowns, staring at the wall.

Kaius Alexander - Scum and beasts. I hope you can handle yourselves in a fight.

* Kaius Alexander snorts derisively.

Wispy - Handle Ourselves? What sort of fight is this? Not a pornographic one, I hope. Or maybe I do.

There's one guy in the corner who's not dead but seems delirious and feverish.  He's got a nastily infected wound on his chest.

* Wispy titters.

* Wispy walks over to the dying fellow, sits and stares.

Tarim - That one seems like the prime candidate to be eaten.

* Eareg Maar eyes Kaius, mind your own affairs.

* Kaius Alexander looks at the bird blankly.

* Gorethirst grunts with disgust and throws his bone blade on the floor.

Other than him it's just the rest of you - a leechkin, a jatayi, two ghilan, and a pair of humans (though one hardly qualifies).

* Mr. Carver looks to be a young gaunt man of Macellarian origin, although it is difficult to tell as Macellarians have few discerning features. Dressed in rags, it is readily apparent that he is heavily grafted. Small crooked fingers can be seen underneath his rags. His face has a third half-blind eye haphazardly grafted to the right side of his head and when he smirks you can see that his teeth have been filed to a point . Black muscle glistens on his right arm, and his flesh squirms as if something lurks underneath the mottled exterior.

Wispy - So, planning on dying anytime soon?

Tarim - In a way, I already am dead... If you hadn't noticed.

* Tarim grins, baring his jewelled teeth.

Wispy - My food doesn't usually speak to me when I'm eating it. So no. You do not qualify as dead.

* Eareg Maar surveys his surroundings, on edge but only barely showing so.

Kaius Alexander - Leave him, Bird. He could be useful. We do not know what we face.

Wispy - It's a legitmate question.

* Kaius Alexander shoulders the delirious man and stands near the iron door patiently.

* Wispy rises and turns to Kaius.

* Mr. Carver walks up to the iron door

* Tarim looks unusually dry, even for a ghul that's been kept in this cell for so long. His appearance is almost mummy-like.

Outside, you can hear the noise swell. It seems that something has happened on the other side of the door.

* Eareg Maar shifts to listen.

Eareg Maar - seems it's about time.

* Mr. Carver sees Kaius drag the wounded man and sneers at him contemptively.

* Gorethirst seems eager.

Tarim - A welcome change to this boredom.

There is a sound of grinding gears and rattling chains, and the two halves of the iron door disappear into the ceiling and floor.

Mr. Carver - Might as well get this over with.

* Mr. Carver takes a step back.

Now, after indeterminate days of darkness and filth and an uncomfortable hour in a covered cart crowded with other prisoners, your senses are assailed by fresh sensations: the roar of a crowd, the swollen, demoniac glare of the red sun, the acrid smell of sand and smoke, of old carnage.  Through the door is a circular pit with a bloodstained, sandy floor scattered with shattered bones.  Around you, a mass of spectators howl from tiered seats, screaming for violence.  Ancient columns mounted with the semblances of hungry gods and demons stare down as if demanding sacrifice, jutting from the arena floor.

A voice speaks, magnified through mechanical or arcane means:

'LADIES, GENTLEMEN, and OTHERS SUNDRY: we present, for your viewing pleasure, a contest of STRENGTH and SKILL!'

* Kaius Alexander sneers at the audience.

Wispy - Aw, crap.

Watch as this band of HARDENED CRIMINALS, slated for EXECUTION, are forced to fight for the chance of FREEDOM!  Their foe?  A creature from the warped lands to the west, one of the TWISTED HORRORS known as the WAXBORN!'

Mr. Carver - Oh, this doesn't sound good.

There is a grinding sound, and a portcullis at the far end of the arena slides open.  Two men with long pikes and heavily spiked armour goad out an amorphous shape, then retreat back through the portcullis, which clangs behind them.

'This HIDEOUS MONSTROSITY has assimilated every manner of beast and being,' the voice continues.  'From the RAVENOUS HYENA to the MALIGNANT XSUR, this waxborn has absorbed countless creatures of VILE and EVIL TEMPERMENT, many of them in this VERY ARENA!  But will it be a match for the BLOODY-MINDED BLACKGUARDS you see before you?'

The creature shambles, slithers, and scuttles towards you on a constantly mutating mass of legs and tentacles.  It blinks with half a hundred eyes of every colour, growls, hisses, curses, roars, and shouts from innumerable mouths, tastes the air with reptilian tongues, sniffs from random nostrils, and flails with multifarious limbs.

* Kaius Alexander steps out with a minimum of movement, and stands on the sands, waiting.

Tarim - Very eager to be entertained, are they.

* Eareg Maar flourishes mockingly to the crowd with his blade.

* Mr. Carver takes a step out, shifting his jagged knife from one hand to the other.

* Tarim frowns at the sun.

Tarim - Too bright. I would prefer a night fight.

* Gorethirst steps into the light, slowly but sure.

The games are basically for entertainment purposes.  But they're also used for impromptu justice. There aren't any rules - it's an anarchic pit, unlike the highly formalized gladiatorial arenas of Crepuscle.

Wispy - What gleet is this gleet. Can't eat waxborn.

Tarim - Well, it's not as if we had any right to expect a fair fight.

Wispy - Who the gleet would want to kill a gleeting waxborn.

* Kaius Alexander positions himself nearest to the Waxborn, still shouldering the man.

* Tarim lurks behind the others, obviously not eager to be first to be attacked by that beast.

* Tarim steps outside after Gorethirst.

* Gorethirst steps forwards, tense ready to move.

The creature shambles, slithers, and scuttles towards you on a constantly mutating mass of legs and tentacles.  

Mr. Carver - What the hell is this thing?!

Gorethirst - Just another fight, it is only flesh.

* Kaius Alexander drops the man in front of him and steps backwards quickly.

Wispy - Gleetin' no that's not flesh.

Tarim - Ugly one.

Wispy - Kvaak! Don't drop the dying man! We could eat his flesh!

Tarim - We can eat much better stuff if we win.

The waxborn shambles, scuttles, and lurches towards you.  It appears to be making for Kaius and the half-comatose man at his feet.

* Kaius Alexander stares at the beast blankly.

It's now about 20 ft. away; it gibbers incoherently and flails with a random tentacle.

* Gorethirst charges the Waxborn.

* Gorethirst darts in fast with his hands, aiming to gouge flesh with his hand mouths.

The attack strikes the hideous creature's variegated flesh.  Your rasping palm-mouth digs in and chews!

* Mr. Carver wonders whether the undulating pile of flesh can even be flanked this way.

* Mr. Carver plunges his dagger into what he assumes is the back of the beast.

Your blade is deflected by the beast's thick scales.

* Wispy casts "Discombobulation" Daze at the monster!

* Wispy titters angrily.

You invoke your hex, but it dissipates when it touches the creature's mind - the beast is too alien to be affected.

* Wispy screes.

* Tarim recoils away from the monstrosity and begins chanting and gesturing, casting Harden the Skin (Mage Armor).

* Tarim 's hide becomes covered in dark patches of thick, toughened skin as the spell takes effect.

*Kaius bravely leaps towards the waxborn, but is thrown aside by one of its snickering limbs!

* Tarim groans at the sight.

Kaius gets to his feet, but his attack is parried by one of the horror's chitinous claws.

* Mr. Carver smirks at the sight of the fallen armiger.

Eareg Maar - I might suggest you fellows strike the large brown mark upon its flank where the fewest tentacles are, it's a weak-point.

* Eareg Maar casually dusts off his shirt and points his hand at the beast, making it into a gun shape.  Tendrils of black ink flow down his arm into his fingers concentrating into an eldritch ball of green energy.

Eareg Maar - Boom...

* Eareg Maar the ball leaps towards the beast with a flash.

The waxborn growls and hisses as the eldritch energy is absorbed into its body.

Kaius is hit by a spined tail suddenly extruded from the monstrosity's awful bulk.  A pincer-claw snaps at Gorethirst, but is turned by his tough hide.  A reptilian claw rakes across Mr. Carver's flesh.  The waxborn also extends a questing tendril that latches onto the ankle of the comatose man and begins dragging him towards its body.

*Mr. Carver slashes with his knife.

You slice off one of its random tendrils, though, producing a spout of ichor!  The beast wails in agony.

Wispy - steps back and casts "Honeyslick" Grease.

Wispy - *back far far away.

Tarim - It screams! That's positive.

Wispy - "If you won't be discombobulated and cannot be eaten, at least be covered in greasy gooey goodness!"

* Mr. Carver laughs triumphantly at the spout of ichor.

Your hex covers the ground with slippery grease.  The waxborn still manages to stay upright, skittering on its many legs.

* Tarim backs away a little further, then utters an eldritch word of power and points his right-hand claw at the beast, unleashing a crackling black bolt at its hideous form.

The waxborn groans and sluggishly shakes itself, enervated.

* Tarim cackles, seeing the beast's muscles wither.

*Kaius Alexander leaps forwards and skids on the sweet-smelling arcane slick, bone blade gleaming.  His dagger hews the tendril in two, and a jet of blood sputters forth.  The bedraggled would-be victim is safe, for now...

* Eareg Maar clutches his face in his hand and slowly pulls back, lifting inky tendrils from his visage which snake around his right hand, with a gesture they whip out on a long jagged line of green as he whips his hand down, directing the energy towards the beast (Blood Wind with my natural claw attack).

Your eldritch claw slashes the monstrosity; blood wells up from the invisible attack.  The waxborn screams in pain and terror.  Huge gouts of its blood now coat the sand (and Kaius, Gorethirst, and Mr. Carver).  In desperation, the waxborn attempts to grapple with Gorethirst.

* Mr. Carver wipes the blood from his eyes.

* Tarim is very happy that he had the good sense to keep his distance.

Kaius Alexander - The beast is weak! Finish it leechman!

* Kaius Alexander spits.

The waxborn hisses in pain as its attack is deflected by the gnashing palm-mouths of the leechkin.

* Gorethirst lets loose a strange double-throated yowl as the waxborn is deflected.

Mr. Carver - Kill the gleeting monster, Leech!

Carver, you manage to dodge its lashing tail.  Kaius, you're hit but in its weakened state the waxborn fails to wound you.  The waxborn, overbalanced by its attacks, slips in the slick of honey.  It flails its limbs madly, trying to right itself.

* Tarim burts into laughter.

Tarim - Not so dangerous after all, are you!

Eareg Maar - it's fallen prone, finish the stain.

Tarim - Put it down like a crippled dog!

* Gorethirst lets loose twin howls.

* Gorethirst enraged by the blood launches a suicidal attack on the floundering waxborn.

The leechkin barrels atop the waxborn and savages it with its palm-mouths, hands flickering in a a bloody blur, pummeling and rasping the creature to tatters.  The monster squirms, trying to reconfigure its limbs.

* Mr. Carver takes a cautious step back.

It thrums the ground with its pincers and tails and tendrils, but Gorethirst's experience in the arena shows itself.  The leechkin pit-fighter delivers a brutal killing blow, and the waxborn falls still, its transformations halting.  It no longer shifts and flows from form to form but lies static and liefless on the arena sands.

* Kaius Alexander shows the barest ghost of a grin.

There is a pause...

* Eareg Maar walks forward in the silence.

"The ragged band of MURDERERS, THIEVES, and other NE'ER DO WELLS has destroyed the FIENDISH TERROR and so earned their freedom in the eyes of THE LAW," the voice intones.  It sounds, perhaps, a mite dispirited; mixed in with the applause and yelps are boos and jeers and disappointed moans.

* Tarim cheers.

Wispy - Okay You gleeting bastard, suck this.

* Wispy moons the audience.

* Gorethirst stands over the tattered remains of the waxborn, breathing heavily and dripping blood and ichor

There are curses (and a couple of whistles) from the crowd.

* Eareg Maar grins sidelong at the leechman.

Eareg Maar - Having fun are we?

* Kaius Alexander again shoulders the comatose man and stands impassively, waiting.

There is a grinding sound and the far door opens.

Gorethirst - Aye, returning to the pits is like returning home.

* Mr. Carver drops the knife in the bloodied sand and walks calmly towards the open door.

A squad of arena guards step out, looking bored. Three go to drag off the waxborn; the others gesture for you to come forward.

Eareg Maar - well to each his own.

* Tarim ignores the crowd and heads for the door.

* Eareg Maar tosses his blade into the aberration and walks out.

* Kaius Alexander follows the group slowly.

Mr. Carver - It's not over yet, greyface.

* Wispy cackles and tosses the bone in the air a few times.

* Wispy then follows.

* Gorethirst slowly follows the group out, glancing behind him as he goes.

Kaius Alexander - Leech, I am nearly impressed, and that is a rare event.

* Gorethirst nods towards Kaius.

Tarim - Well fought, the lot of you.
[/ic]

[ic=Unhealthy Competition]You are shepherded out of the arena, through an arched doorway, and into a long, dim hall.  A bored-looking guard opens a side-door and jerks his thumb at the room beyond.

Wispy - Nearly impressed... dearly impressed... betcha bards'll be singin' about how you cut that gleetin' bastard near in half and off with his head- killed him dead.

"Yer kit's all in there," the guard grumbles.  "Yer beast's stabled outside," he says to the Gorethirst.  "Get yer gear an' clear out, we got another fight in half an hour."

* Tarim hurries toward the room, hoping to get back to his own clothes.

Mr. Carver - It was quite a display of... force, yes.

* Gorethirst hefts his battleaxe with slinging his pack onto his back.

* Eareg Maar goes immediately for an intricately crafted rifle, picking it up... you notice an odd sense of relief pass across his face as he hefts it in a familiar fashion.

Tarim - Ah, finally get to loose these hideous rags!

* Kaius Alexander dons his impressive suit of armour with mechanical efficiency.

* Mr. Carver walks to what looks to be his kit and sheds the bloodied rags.

Wispy - Wax made lax, splattered att-Axed.

*Eareg Maar obtains his rifle then almost half-caringly grabs everything else.

* Tarim slips on his caftan and turban, and carefully goes through his other belongings, making sure nothing's missing.

* Kaius Alexander assembles his pack and hefts it onto his back.

Gorethirst - My thanks for the aid in the pit.

* Wispy picks up a whole bunch of crap.

* Eareg Maar casually slips on some rugged travelers clothes and hefts a backpack.

Tarim - You seemed to be in your element there, leechkin. Did you by chance have... prior experience of this?

* Gorethirst turns to Tarim.

Gorethirst - Yes, I earned blood as a pit fighter back in Lophius - before I was forced to leave.

* Tarim nods at Gorethirst.

* Gorethirst seems melancholy at this last bit.

* Gorethirst turns to Kaius.

Gorethirst - What are you doing with the man?  If he is to be of no use, I will take him with me.

Wispy - Is he dead yet?

 * Mr. Carver straps on his studded leather and makes sure all his knives are there. an especially viscious-looking one is inspected for a few seconds before it is sheated in a belt scabbard.

* Eareg Maar pops Wispy in the back of the head with the butt of his rifle.

Eareg Maar - Cut it out.

* Kaius Alexander tilts his head and looks at the man.

Wispy - Aaaawww.

Wispy - I didn't say ta' kill him!

* Mr. Carver then puts on his haphazardly patched military coat, his black bowler, and his dark optics which fail to hide his glaring third eye. The coat is fitted with a third sleeve to accommodate his vestigial arm.

Kaius Alexander - I have some small shred of compassion for this man, though I do not know why.

Kaius Alexander - He will come with me.

Gorethirst - I can transport him on my mount if you wish.

Tarim - It was good fortune then, for the rest of us to end up in the same group... though misfortune may have brought us in this arena in the first place.

Mr. Carver - isn't that the marrow of the matter.

* Kaius Alexander stares at the Gorethirst.

Kaius Alexander - That will not be necessary.

Gorethirst - My ending up back in the pits was no misfortune. I would say it a blessed fate.

Mr. Carver - A simpler fate at the very least.

Eareg Maar - I for one have matters to deal with, a man of certain connections placed me here despite the fact I committed no crime.  I wish to see him... dealt with.

* Tarim raises an eyebrow.

* Gorethirst walks out the door to check on Corpsegobble.

Mr. Carver - Who might that man be, ghul?

Eareg Maar - A fellow scavenger of ill repute.  He was watching us from the crowd.

Mr. Carver - Scavenger, eh? You've walked the Slaughter-lands?

Corpsegobble is stabled near the Ludus, the gladiatorial school attached to the Pits.  He looks well cared for and plump.

* Tarim heads out, looking for his demonic slave.

Eareg Maar - walked, I do walk, they're more my home then this den of death.

"Been feedin' him dead uns from the pits," the stable-keeper informs Gorethirst.

Mr. Carver - Well, this has always been my home.

* Mr. Carver sheathes the last of his many daggers.

Gorethirst - Thank you for feeding him. I am sure there was no lack of bodies.

Wispy - Heya ViceBite, ViceBite- Where the gleet are you?

* Kaius Alexander feels the small black orb through its leather covering.

(your familiar is back in your rooms, Tarim; Eareg, yours was in a bird-cage in the armory-room with the rest of your stuff).

Vicebite soars down from a hidden perch and alights on Wispy's arm.

* Eareg Maar last walks over and opens a cage, retrieving a small black owl.

* Eareg Maar scratches its head.

Eareg Maar - good to see you again friend.

* Wispy cackles and pets the Clockwork ID Bird.

* Gorethirst saddles 'gobble and throws his pack over his saddle.

You step out into Pulsetown.  The district seethes with energy.  Humans predominate here, with a few grave-spawn and other races mingling into the crowds.  The buildings are of old stone and brick, with some more recent constructions of wattle, daub, and brown clay.  The ancient streets are paved with rectangular setts carved with grotesque faces (as are all the streets within the walls of Macellaria), their features flattened and distorted by a thousand footfalls and centuries of dust.

Mr. Carver - Looks the way it always has.

Right now you're in a broad square with streets radiating out to the north and east; the Sanguine Church can be seen to the east, and the Hollow Skull Playhouse is just across the square.

* Mr. Carver spits at the street.

* Gorethirst mounts up.

Mr. Carver - where are you going leech?

Gorethirst - Away from the pits.

* Kaius Alexander inhales deeply.

Mr. Carver - I thought you said they were a blessing.

Wispy - Pits give Fits to Leech Who Sits.

Wispy - He has good advice!

* Mr. Carver turns to face Wispy.

Gorethirst - They are, but I am not supposed to feed in the street.

Mr. Carver - You are a bit strange, bird.

Wispy - You know many of my kind?

* Wispy keeps one eye on the comatose man.

Gorethirst - That battle has given me a raging thirst. I go to the nearest bar that will serve my kind.

Mr. Carver - No, I do not, admittedly.

"Hey, you - bird-bonce!" A squat man handing out pamphlets at the door of the Hollow Skull Playhouse yells.  "You lot there by the pits - come over 'ere!"

* Kaius Alexander stares at the bird.

* Eareg Maar is loading rounds into his rifle.

Wispy - Eh, a pity- then don't see how I'm strange at all- 'nother topic, Carver- Carver man--

* Kaius Alexander opens his visor and switches his glare to the man

Wispy - You know somethin' about butchery?  Where to get some dead meat?

Tarim - Why don't *you* come over here if you have something to tell us?

Wispy - On the cheap?

The playhouse will let leechkin in and does have a few blood-based drinks available at intermissions at a marked-up price.

Mr. Carver - Hey, Leech, they serve your kind across the street, if you want to accompany us.

Gorethirst - The pits themselves will have a large amount of dead bodies ready for disposal bird-man. They plumped up 'Gobble here considerably.

The man sighs and waddles over towards your group, frowning at Tarim.

* Eareg Maar loads the last round in his weapon and eyes the group idly.

"You look like a likely bunch of cleavers," he says, eying the group.  "Interested in a bit of work?"

* Mr. Carver walks to stand beside Tarim.

* Kaius Alexander inspects his already loaded revolver.

Wispy - Good advice, but don' wanna join tha' dead bodies myself- just got luck to get outta there.

Eareg Maar - work? only if it means I get to leave this blasted city.

* Tarim looks into his purse, sighing.

Wispy - Oooh- Other wise man- has a plan.

Kaius Alexander - What is the work? What is the pay?

Mr. Carver - That depends on what you are offering, Mr...?

Gorethirst - The company of comrades from the pit. There are few better things.

Tarim - I could certainly use some income...

It'll take ye to the shanties, at the least," he says to Eareg.  "Pays well," he says, turning to Kaius.  "Come with me - my boss'll fill ye in on the details, then ye can decide if yer interested.  You from the camp outside?"  He asks Wispy.

* Kaius Alexander grunts noncomitally.

"Oh, and I'm Kudgal," he says to Mr. Carver.

* Eareg Maar mumbles "I hate the shanties" but follows the group mostly out of curiosity.

Tarim - Well, it might be worth hearing the details, at least.

Wispy - I'm from outside.

Wispy - Cause birds don't do too well on the inside - hehehehehe.

Eareg Maar - I'm only sticking around to see if this is interesting, you lot are nice but I have a fellow scavenger to deal with and things to attend to.

* Tarim follows along.

 Mr. Carver - Who is your boss Kudgal?

* Gorethirst kicks Corpsegobble into motion, following after Kudgal.

Wispy - Then 'gain only the ghilian do too well turned inside-out.

"Sebastian Defoin - owner and director at the Hollow Skull."  He leads you towards the playhouse doors.

* Gorethirst jumps off his dire maggot mount.

* Mr. Carver follows, hand on the Agony Knife.

* Gorethirst makes a staying motion at the creature.

The entrance to the playhouse is plastered with posters advertising the latest play.  It appears to be a horror/comedy called "Demon's Child," advertised as the sequel to the critically acclaimed "Demon's Lover."

Wispy - The original wasn't that realistic.

* Wispy twitters.

* Tarim frowns at the poster.

Tarim - Somebody ought to teach these playwrights a lesson or two of demonology!

Kudgal leads you through the front doors and up a flight of steps, knocking at a door at the top and then opening it.  He gestures that you enter.

Mr. Carver - As in you shouldn't attempt mating with them?

Wispy - Yeah! You tell 'em ghul!

Tarim - Get their facts straight.

* Mr. Carver walks in.

* Eareg Maar walks in and finds a place to sit.

* Kaius Alexander accompanies the group silently, apart from his heavy footfalls.

* Tarim enters and looks about a bit suspiciously.

* Wispy readies big thunder. Prepared to be screwed.

You are in a large, cluttered study, the stone shelves lined with softly decaying books, the enormous wooden desk covered in reams of papyrus, ink bottles, grotesque little paperweights, and what look like exaggeratedly cruel-looking wooden replicas of weapons.  A tall, slender, quick human with a mane of long red curls and sparkling amber eyes sits behind the desk, scanning some document from behind a pair of round spectacles and murmuring under his breath.  His fingers are sheathed in many rings, and his clothing is of black satin.

* Eareg Maar snorts.

'Sorry to interrupt, sir,' Kudgal says.  'This bunch're interested in the job.  Got a jatayi with them, renegade from Skein'¦ thought I'd bring 'em up.'

'Thank you, Kudgal,' the man says softly, setting his papers down.  'You may leave us.'

Kudgal nods and exits the room.  The man takes off his spectacles and puts them on the desk.

'I am Sebastian Defoin,' he says.  'Owner and director of the Hollow Skull Playhouse.'

Kaius Alexander - And what use does a man such as you have of those such as us?

* Tarim bows modestly.

* Mr. Carver looks at the ghul.

'I am afraid your obstinate brethren have rather outstayed their welcome in our city,' Sebastian says, addressing Cacophonous in particular.  'They call themselves storytellers, performers.'  He spits with surprisingly vulgarity for someone so outwardly refined.  'The marrow of it is they're two-bit tramps with a few tired myths they spice up with a lot of primitive trickery and a few flashy gutter-hexes.  They know nothing about drama, about art.'  The pronounces the word as if referring to a deity.

Wispy - ah' too much competition!

'The jatayi have encamped in the outskirts of the city, in the shanty-towns outside the Witch's Gate, for over a month now.  Usually we are but a brief stop on their usual tour: they spend perhaps a fortnight at most, then move on towards Crepuscle.  Unfortunately, a number of the less-than-enlightened residents of Macellaria have been taken in by their juvenile theatrics in preference to my own establishment.  This season we are premiering a fantastic new play, 'Demon's Child,' sequel to the critically and popularly acclaimed 'Demon's Lover,' but the audiences have been uncharacteristically small, the reception tepid.

'It is all the fault of those damnable carrion-eaters!  If they were to leave, I'm sure sales would pick up.'

Mr. Carver - Excuse me, but I'm guessing the reason for dragging us up here wasn't so you could moan about your problems with bird-folk.

* Wispy titters.

Mr. Carver - What kind of butchery do you need a team of cleavers like us for?

He steeples his fingers.  'Indeed.  I would be willing to pay you six thousand obeloi all in all: five hundred up front, two thousand upon completion, and the remaining thirty-five hundred over a three month period, out of Demon Child's proceeds.  I'd even throw in free seats for a performance, in a private box.  All you have to do '" get the jatayi to leave town.

'I don't care how you do it '" force, intimidation, persuasion, whatever means you please '" so long as it can't be traced directly back to me.  I don't want the Playhouse or my own name mentioned; if I learn that my theatre's name has been dragged into things I'll deny any involvement as idle gossip and you'll lose your reward.

* Tarim 's eye-gems gleam at the mention of the money.

"Perhaps they will listen to one of their own kind more readily than to wingless sampathi, as they call humans."

Gorethirst - This seems like an easy way for us to end up back in the crime pits.

Kaius Alexander - This sum is barely acceptable. I will accept your task, but expect no more than you ask.

Gorethirst - I will help.

Eareg Maar - sounds like something you'd enjoy.

He frowns.  "I hardly think the city militia will trouble themselves over a few tramp bird-men."

Mr. Carver - I'm saddened to say that the Macellarian law probably doesn't care much about the Jatayi

Wispy - Cared enough to put me in jail. Hehehe.

Mr. Carver - But that's the other way around bird.

"Your... colourful companion has a point, sir."

Wispy - Gleet them then. They don't even know who I robbed- he could have been a me.

Mr. Carver - As long as the human maggots benefit...

Wispy - So, Guess I'll a' see.

"So: do we have an arrangement?"  He addresses those that haven't assented.

Gorethirst - Let us seal our deal with an offering of blood.

Wispy - I'm in it, yest I be.

* Gorethirst holds out its hand.

Sebastian winces in distaste.  "I don't think such theatrics are necessary in this case.  I prefer to confine the bloodletting to the stage, thank you."

Mr. Carver - I'll see where this takes me. I'll take you up on your offer, human.

Tarim - It seems acceptable; we can always back down if it turns out to be too much of a challenge.

* Kaius Alexander - encased in metal - stares at the Gorethirst's proferred hand.

Gorethirst - I require a sanguinary drink then.

Mr. Carver - I'm sure our host is willing to provide one on the house.

Mr. Carver - right, Mr. Defoin?

* Kaius Alexander stares at the manacles dripping blood into the Gorethirst's mouths.

Sebastian assents and goes to a liquor-cabinet.  He pours a goblet of blood and asks if anyone else would like anything.

* Kaius Alexander doesn't respond.

Tarim - Could use a drink myself. Though I'd prefer fine wine, over blood.

* Gorethirst notices Kaius stare, and answers with his other palm-mouth.

Mr. Carver - Something strong, preferably.

Wispy - How about some dead meat?

Gorethirst - You can never have enough blood to drink metal-man.

* Mr. Carver shakes his head at Wispy's comment.

Eareg Maar - I am not thirsty.

Wispy - Blood is a healthy part of a well rounded meal.  Though some of use prefer it to congeal.

Mr. Carver - (Kaius) where are you from, maggot?

* Wispy nods and grins approvingly at Gorethirst.

* Kaius Alexander turns slowly to Mr. Carver.

"I'm afraid I don't have any, ah, foodstuffs on hand," Sebastian says to Wispy, pouring a brandy for Carver and a glass of white for Tarim.

Wispy - Can you just let me kill something then?

* Tarim takes the glass graciously and sips.

* Eareg Maar looks at the man cooly.

* Mr. Carver drinks it all in one gulp.

Wispy - Like a rat?  Or a bat?

Tarim - Ah, a man with a good taste for wines.

Kaius Alexander - I was born in the Sleepwalker's City. I have served My Lady faithfully for many years. I serve her still.

"I suggest you channel your energy into your task, sir," he says to Wispy.  "Then you can buy all the rats you please."

Mr. Carver - Somnambulon? That's pretty far away.

* Wispy hisses.

Kaius Alexander - Yes. It is.

Mr. Carver - You don't see many leeches there?

Kaius Alexander - My Masters have deemed them pests. We see none.

Wispy - Maybe you just aren't looking hard enough.  Leechkin 'r good at hide and bluff.

Gorethirst - I am far from being a pest.

Wispy - Yeah he ain't- Gorethirst's the best!

Tarim - I am known by the name Tarim, by the way. Look for my humble shop in the Wormhive near Hexwarren, if you ever need to deal in eldritch matters.

Mr. Carver - You do grafts, Tarim?

Tarim - No. Tattoos. and also scrollwork. I assure you, my prices are better than those overhyped shops in the warren.

Kaius Alexander - Your prodigious strength is certainly a redeeming quality, Leech.  Your ferocity, another.

* Gorethirst takes up the goblet and unceremoniously pours its bloody contents down his gasping palm-mouth.

Mr. Carver - Redeeming, even? Useful, rather. But then again, I see no reason our friend Gorethirst should require redemption to begin with.  Tattoos lack a certain... transcendental quality.

* Tarim sips more of the wine

Wispy - That's right; never forgive, always forget.

Kaius Alexander - I do not argue with the Laws of My City. They, however, do not apply here. It is irrelevant.

Mr. Carver - If you say so, maggot.

Gorethirst - Irrelevant, then.

Tarim - The tattoos I create are infused with sorcerous power.  They are more than art; they hold quite some utilitarian value.

Mr. Carver - While useful, you'd still just be a man even if your leather is scarred with hexes. And a man isn't worth much by himself.  Can we get some corpus downstairs, Mr. Defoin? We haven't eaten well for some time.

"There's a ghul-bar not far from here, in Velveteen Circus - Erubescence.  I'd try there."

Mr. Carver - But if I ever find a sizable stash of bones, I might swing by to enjoy your services.

* Mr. Carver smirks

* Tarim nods

Mr. Carver - Let's get out of here then.  Thanks for the job offer Mr. Defoin.

* Tarim empties the glass of wine.

Tarim - Yes, let us be on our way.

* Mr. Carver tips his hat.

* Gorethirst sets his empty goblet on the table.

Gorethirst - Until we meet again.

Tarim - A ghul-bar should certainly cater to *my* needs.

Sebastian catches Eareg's eye.  "You look troubled, sir.  Is the contract to your liking?"

Eareg Maar - I always look troubled here.  City life doesn't suit me.

* Eareg Maar goes back to staring idly.

Sebastian favours him with an inscrutable half-smile.

Kaius Alexander - In any case, I should return to my home. I must tend to my'¦ new friend.[/ic]

Nice work with the extensive editing.

[Removed] - too much text!  I'm going to break up the various sessions into individual episodes.

[ic=Erubescence]Having departed from the Hollow Skull Theatre with a promise to meet at the Witch's Gate at dawn the next day, the ghul witch Tarim and the slavering leechkin pit-fighter known simply as the Gorethirst repair to a nearby ghul-bar, Erubescence, in order to quench their thirst and relax after the day's trials.

Flickering red lamps light the gloomy interior of the ghul-bar Erubescence, a dim parlour with smoke-stained leather chairs and notched, battered tables.  The bartender is a lilix; he mixes a blood-and-rum cocktail for a ghul with two hands while polishing a mug with another pair, smoking a black cigarillo with a fifth hand and fidgeting with a long dagger with the sixth.  A shade in the host-corpse of a voluptuous, diaphanously clad woman sits on a barstool, hoping to attract customers who prefer cold flesh to warm.

Tarim - Let us get a table, shall we?

Gorethirst - Agreed.

* Gorethirst finds a free table and sprawls onto a leather chair.

* Tarim sits down opposite, gesturing for drinks to be brought to them.

The lilix bartender nods and a scrawny barmaid soon brings over a pitcher of dark red liquid.  "Anything to eat, gentlemen?" she asks.  She sets down two ancient-looking mugs.

Tarim - Do you got anything raw, not decayed?

"Certainly, sir - fish or flesh?"

Tarim - Flesh

* Tarim grins.

* Gorethirst shakes his head at the barmaid's question and pours himself a mug of blood.

She smiles meekly back and heads into the kitchens.

* Tarim takes a sip from his mug.

As she disappears, the door to Erubescence opens.

Tarim - Good enough stuff to quench the thirst, but I've had much better.

A tall, weatherbeaten individual in a long, dark coat and a broad-brimmed hat enters.  A medallion hangs about his neck.

Gorethirst - Not as sweet as bodywarm blood from a fallen enemy.

Tarim, you discern the symbol on the medallion - a staring eye, the dread symbol of the Inquisition of Marainein, the militant chapter of the priesthood of the Leprous God - the Festering Lord, the Wasting God, His Putridity, Yzsch.

* Tarim frowns.

It was from the Inquisition that you fled that fell city for Macellaria.

Gorethirst - Is something amiss comrade?

Tarim - *whispering* Damned inquisitor fouling up the place.

The Inquisitor heads to the bar and begins talking to the lilix.  You are in a corner near the door - his back is to you.

* Gorethirst idly sips at his drink, somewhat awkwardly from a mug not designed for leechkin hands.

He removes a large bag from his robes and counts out several coins, but the bartender scowls.

* Tarim eyes the scene with interest, but tries to keep from drawing attention to himself.

Gorethirst - Has the Inquisition cause you problems in the past Tarim?

Tarim - *whispering* You could say so...

* Gorethirst listens carefully, straining to overhear the conversation.

Gorethirst, you catch the word "coinage" and "no good."  It sounds like the bartender has refused the Inquisitor's coins, since they're not Macellaria obeloi but the silver coins of Marainein.  The Inquisitor sneers and turns, making to leave the bar.

Tarim - *whispering* To be honest they had me on the run for a while, years ago.

Gorethirst - He has not made a good impression with the barkeep. He carries the wrong coinage.

Tarim - Hah!  Figures.  Too prideful to have their money exhanged.

Gorethirst - Ah, part of your past risen again. Similar to the pit fights and myself.

You hear him mutter "unclean abomination" as he heads out the door.

Tarim - I wonder what business he had here. So far away from Maranein... Could be something worth investigating.

The barmaid returns with a platter of bluish-red flesh, seasoned with spices.

* Tarim nods at her.

Tarim - Ah, very good.

* Tarim tosses the maid an obelus.

She bends low and whispers, "Yalzarr thuoght you should know, that warmbody was looking for a fellow of your description, sir."

* Tarim raises a brow.

Tarim - How interesting.  You have earned your tip.

"Must have missed you in the dim light, I suppose - said he was looking for a ghul from the City of the Leprous God, wore a turban and such.  Mayhap he was looking for someone else."

Gorethirst - It seems we know what business has brought them to the City.

* Tarim sinks his teeth into the platter of raw flesh and chews vigorously.

There's a crash against the doorway as a young human rebounds off the wall outside, collapsing in a pile.

* Eareg Maar walks through the door.

Eareg Maar - Blasted pickpockets!

Tarim - I had not expected them to care so much as to come after me all the way here, and after all that time. Perhaps I should feel flattered.

* Tarim flashes a wicked grin.

* Eareg Maar sees Gorethirst and Tarim and walks over.

Eareg Maar - Didn't expect to see you two again so soon.

The lilix bartender nods to Eareg as he enters.  A shade prostitute in a full-figured host-corpse favours him with a gruesome smile, presumably an attempt at coquettishness.

* Tarim turns to face Eareg.

Tarim - Oh, hello again.

* Eareg Maar sits down and taps the bar "brandy with a few drops of blood."

"Coming right up," the lilix says, and a moment later provides you with a snifter of golden liquid, with droplets of red suspended within.

* Gorethirst raises a bloody palm-mouth in welcome to Eareg Maar.

Eareg Maar - I was going to just take off for home but I was thirsty and fate seems to of conspired against me.

Tarim - Fate can be quite uppity.

Gorethirst - A fateful day then, first the pits and now this meeting.

*Eareg Maar nods to the bartender and knocks it back.

The brandy is cheap but fortifying after the trials of the pits.

Eareg Maar - I'm not a city crawler by any means and not one for social niceties... but I do believe when fate calls you should take note.  So perhaps I won't run off just yet.  So my fellows, what form has your day taken as of yet?  Small talk and alcohol if I guess properly your purpose for being here.

* Eareg Maar taps the bar for another brandy.

Tarim - Just came here to enjoy a bit of flesh and drinks.  Was nice enough until an old haunt from Maranein showed up, looking for me.

Gorethirst - An Inquisitor no less.

Eareg Maar - Exciting, certainly fortunate that you have a reliable past to haunt you

*Eareg Maarknocks back the second brandy

Tarim - Didn't spot me but apparently tried to use his worthless coin to find out where I was'¦

*Eareg Maar tosses two obeloi onto the bar

The lilix chitters appreciatively.

* Tarim finishes eating his food

Tarim - Good thing that the barkeep here likes his bribes high

The barmaid comes and collects the platter.  "Any food for you, sir?" she asks Eareg.

*Eareg Maar looks at Tarim.

Eareg Maar - How's the meat

Tarim - Raw meat here seems good enough. Not luxurious by any means, but tasty.

Eareg Maar - Good enough for me, I'll have what he had then

* Tarim downs the last of his drink

The barmaid nods and brings you a platter of bluish, bleeding meat, from an unidentified beast, slathered with spice-rub.

Tarim - Think I'll going to have a word with the barkeep. Enjoy your food.

*Eareg Maar tries it and nods approvingly.

* Tarim stands up and head for the counter.

* Gorethirst finishes his mug of blood, and pours another.

Gorethirst - A meal is good after a fight in the pits, is it not?

*Eareg Maar nods to Gorethirst.

Eareg Maar - And a drink - especially a drink.  Though in your case my friend you get both in one go.

Gorethirst - Very true, I do not think drinking from the Waxborn would have been a good thing.

*Eareg Maar chuckles as he crunches on bone, licking the marrow.

Tarim - *to the barkeep* Excellent service here. About that Maraneinese one...

Tarim - Might you be able to tell me more about him than your barmaid?

The lilix regards you with his many crimson eyes.

"Fellow said he was lookin' for a ghul of your description," the spider-creature says in strangely accented Shambles.  "Said you had something of his."

* Tarim seems a bit surprised.

Tarim - Was that all he said?

"Didn't have any bones, so I sent him on his way.  Mentioned he'd be following you for awhile.  In trouble with the priests?"

Tarim - Not nowadays, far as I know. Has he been here before, by chance?

"First I seen of him.  Probably not here long, given that he's still trying to get by on Marainein silver instead of proper money."

Tarim - I see. Where might such newcomers make their abode? You must have seen quite a few in your time, and heard things. Any clues?

"There're hostels and such in the shanties, but a finely dressed fellow like him would probably try a place in the city, probably somewhere here in Pulsetown.  Unless he's staying at the shrine of the Leprous God, over in Resurrection Row.  Never been in, myself."

Tarim - That makes sense. I thank you for this bit of insight. Oh, *I* for one have some proper money for those who earn it.

* Tarim tosses a handful of coins to the lilix.

The lilix chitters with gratitude.  "Always a pleasure to be of service."

* Tarim nods and head back to the table.

* Eareg Maar waves idly to Tarim as he finishes off his plate.

Gorethirst - Did he have anything to say about the Inquisitor?

Tarim - Very interesting. I don't recall having met this particular man. Though I can't be sure, it's been a while and I... do not like to spend time recalling the old days. Yet he seems to think I have something of his.

Gorethirst - It must be a valuable possession if he has followed you all the way here.

Tarim - It figures I better get to him before catches up with me. Only a matter of time till some fool accepts his silver.

* Gorethirst nods in agreement

Tarim - He seems rather wealthy. Could be loot enough to share if I do take him out. If either of you be interested.

Eareg Maar - The question is if anyone would want it around here.

* Eareg Maar chuckles.

Gorethirst - I would be willing to help.

Eareg Maar - Black one's bones... I'd be up for it, seeing as I apparently won't be heading home so soon after all.  Could use some excitement in the meantime.

Tarim - Excellent.  If you're all done with your drinks, I suggest we head out.  The better if we manage the advantage of surprise.

* Eareg Maar tosses two more obeloi onto the counter and stands up.

Eareg Maar - Well let's pound ground then.

* Tarim heads out of the bar.

* Gorethirst follows after quickly pouring the rest of his drink into a waiting palm-mouth.[/ic]

[ic=Militia and Miscreants]Outside, the usual chaos of Macellaria surrounds you.  Corpsegobble is being kept in a small courtyard behind the bar, by the way.  There's a cestoid-drawn rickshaw waiting by the entrance.  A wiry human child beside it asks if you need transportation.

Tarim - We can try to look for him in the Pulsetown, or the shrine of the Leprous God.

Tarim - I'd guess the latter would be the more obvious.

Eare Maar - Which one would have fewer people?

Gorethirst - Confronting him in a temple of his god might not be wise.

Gorethirst - The priests would surely side with him.

Eareg Maar - Probably the temple.

Tarim - We might gain information by asking around from people near the place.

* Gorethirst quickly goes to retrieve Corpsegobble and mounts up, meeting the others in front

Eareg Maar- we might try the Row, he wants to find you but he doesn't want to be found.

Tarim - Hmm.

Eareg Maar- he's going to go somewhere with a lot of people.

Tarim - If I had to guess, Id say the man lives in Pulsotown, but has connections to the shrine.

Eareg Maar- Are you sure he can afford Pulsetown?  His coin is no good here.

Tarim - We could observe the shrine, wait for him to appear, and follow him when he leaves - that way we avoid dealing with the priests.  Do you have other suggestions for a plan?

Eareg Maar- It's your mission - your call.

Gorethirst - Lead the way then.

Tarim - Let us find the temple, then.

* Tarim heads for the Resurrection Row.

* Eareg Maar idly wipes the barrel of his gun with a cloth as they walk, cleaning away the grime.

* Gorethirst rides a small distance behind the others, easily keeping pace.

Turning north and east from the bar you head towards the slum.  On your way, you pass through the square that holds the Sanguine Church - temple of Striga in Macellaria.  A short distance beyond, four burly humans in red robes appear from the mouth of an alley.

* Tarim looks about with keen eye-replacements as he walks.

They interpose themselves in front of you.

"This is holy ground," one of them declares to the group.  "Standard tithe, ten obeloi.  Those're Striga's rules.  You don't want to disrespect the Goddess on Her grounds, do you?"

* Eareg Maar hands the guards ten coins.

* Tarim looks annoyed.

* Gorethirst mockingly solutes them with his hands as he rides by.

*After they are past Eareg turns to the others.

Eareg Maar- Just as likely liars trying to con money, but I learned at least one thing here.  Don't mess with holy boys... even fake ones.

The red-robed men sneer and turn away, looking almost disappointed.

Gorethirst - Almost as bad as hagmen for causing trouble.

Eareg Maar- Aye.

Tarim - Of course "tithe" is just a code for extortion. But would have been more trouble for not paying.

You pass from Pulsetown and skirt the Skin Markets, eventually arriving in the slums of Resurrection Row.  The city here is tawdrier and more dilapidated than elsewhere.  Many of the buildings are smaller, fashioned of wattle and daub, mud brick, wood, and scrap; these are clustered around the bases of larger, older buildings like mushrooms, a variegated architectural fungi.  The main street - Resurrection Row itself - winds down in a jagged line towards the distant arch of the Butcher's Gate.  There, scavengers heading into the Slaughter-lands depart and bedraggled parties limp back into the city, laden with their ill-gotten treasures.

Tarim - I guess we should ask some of the locals for directions.

Eareg Maar- Let's try for the southeast walls.  I recall it being near there.  We can ask around the area.

Tarim - Alright.

Right now you're on the main street, the Row itself.

Tarim - You show the way if you're more familiar with this area

* Eareg Maar leads the group in that direction

Eareg, you lead them up to the Butcher's Gate by the bounty office and then south along the walls.  Soon you are in the tangled alleys of the Row.  You find yourself in a small square; two streets lead away, one to the east, the other southwest.  There are several street-sellers here, including a fortune-teller and a charm-merchant.

Gorethirst - A merchant may know the way from here.

* Eareg Maar heads over to the charm merchant and flashes him a few coin.

Tarim - Merchants. Always eager to earn a coin.

A scrofulous ghul who must've been grafted in life - given the jackal's snout and ears that've been sewn to his head, and the bristling tail that twitches behind him - sells a variety of charms, talismans, broaches, rings, bracelets, baubles, trinkets, pocketwatches, and other jewellery-pieces on the street-corner, some of it with an eldritch look to it.  Perched on his shoulder with its umbilical cord wrapped about his upper arm is a human foetus '" a foetus with the black, beady eyes and rippling gooseflesh of a shade.  The ghul barks and whimpers loudly, catching the attention of passers-by, while the grotesque little child on its shoulder hawks wares to passers-by:

"The finest wards in Macellaria," it proclaims, its voice eerily adult.  "Courtesy of Masters Woof & Stillborn!  Need protection against Rotmist?  Or perhaps it's madness you're hoping to stave off?  What about an amulet to silence your movements, or a periapt to command even the blackest tenebrals?  Or is it healing you need '" what about a ring that protects against deadly venoms, or wards off the foulest plagues?  Come one, come all '" the finest wards in Macellaria, courtesy of Masters Woof & Stillborn!"

Eareg Maar- perhaps you might charm me by telling me the way to the temple?

"Ah, the temple of the Wasting God, yes?"

Eareg Maar- Aye.

"What would such information be worth to a fine ghul such as yourself?"

Tarim - How charming little helper.

* Tarim chuckles.

* Gorethirst circles the square silently.

Eareg Maar- I would be most pleased with the information, so pleased that I could lose 10 coins and be unconcerned

* Tarim eyes the alleys around them.

* Eareg Maar casually hefts a handful of coins.

* Gorethirst slowly brings 'gobble around towards the ghul merchant

"That sounds like a fair price and no mistake!  Ye'll find the shrine down Blackhand Alley there" - the foetus-shade points to the eastern street.  "Just follow that, take the first right, and ye'll be at the walls.  Follow them till ye hit the shrine."

Eareg Maar- Thank you.

Tarim - Ah, good. Let us be on our way.

* Eareg Maar shakes his hand with the hand containing the coins.

The jackal-faced ghul barks appreciatively and lolls his pinkish tongue.  The foetus continues its speal about talismans and amulets.

* Eareg Maar leads on.

Eareg Maar- hemorrhaging coins as usual... another day in the city.

* Eareg Maar grins at Tarim and Gorethirst.

Eareg Maar- The trick is to make others hemorrhage them to you faster.

Following the merchant's directions you soon reach the shrine - a two-storey temple with cracked columns of black marble around the front and a tall arched doorway.  The grotesque effigy of the Leprous God stares down from overhead.

Tarim - Interesting.

* Tarim looks for a suitable place to observe the shrine without being spotted himself. Preferably some place he could get away casting a spell when needed.

Eareg Maar- By which I mean, Tarim, that I expect to be paid well.

Tarim - Of course.

There are a lot of grimy alleyways about, and some scabrous yards where dirty children play.

Tarim - I say we wait for while, to see if he shows up.

Eareg Maar- Your call.

Gorethirst - I can take a look inside. They will not know me from your past Tarim.

Tarim - If he doesn't, then we'll investigate more directly.

* Tarim picks a quiet, shadowy, alley.

You begin waiting.

* Eareg Maar casually slings out hiss gun, checking the chamber.

About an hour later, three swaggering thugs approach you from out of the yawning black of the alleyway behind you, all of them showily grafted.  One has filed teeth and a swarm of barbed tentacles bristling from his bare scalp in distasteful imitation of a gorgon's snaky hair.  Another has replaced one his hands with an axe-blade; he wields an enormous, rusted hand-cannon in the other hand.  The third is perhaps the most grotesque, his lower jaw having been removed entirely to make room for an obscenely long, cartilaginous tongue worming its way from his perpetually open mouth and sniffing the air with a razored sucker.

"What do we have here?"  The snake-haired horror asks mockingly, twirling a switchblade.  "A couple of wormies and a leech out for a stroll in the Row?  What do you think, Hatchet?"

"Out for a promenade, Locks.  Look like a bunch of fancy-pants fleshies with bones to spare."  The hatchet-handed thug sashays and waves his enormous pistol.  "Ent that right, Slobber?"

Slobber makes a disgusting choking sound that might be laughter and dribbles mucal spew from his flailing proboscis.

He cracks his knuckles and withdraws a punching dagger from the depths of his vest.

* Eareg Maar casually cocks his rifle.

* Eareg Maar stands up.

Eareg Maar - that would be unwise.

* Gorethirst brings Corpsegobble around.

* Tarim silently draws his dagger.

* Eareg Maar utters a strange word and the barrel of his gun bursts into fire.

Gorethirst - I am in need of corpses for my mount, do you volunteer?

The three disgusting grafted thugs Hatchet, Locks, and Slobber stare down the three adventurers Tarim, Eareg Maar, and the Gorethirst, who were staking out the shrine of the Wasting God of Marainein.  As they advance - weapons glinting in the mid-afternoon sun, organic augmentations squirming and drooling - a shadowy figure steps from the shadows behind them - Kaius Alexander, the pallid, grim-faced warrior the three adventurers met earlier in the fighting pits.   Now sheathed in armour and armed to the teeth, he approaches the thugs and his erstwhile companions in the pit, his face inscrutable.

(Kaius was just returning from taking the wounded man from the Pits to a chirurgeon in Hexwarren.  His tenement is in Resurrection Row - it's coincidence that he has run into these three).

*Gorethirst spurs his dire maggot Corpsegobble and charges towards the thugs!

Gorethirst - I also Quick-Draw my Great Axe, so I get +1 attack and +1 damage from Sudden Strike.

The leechkin's axe sings through the air and slices into the hideous thug Slobber, severing his left arm at the shoulder!  Blood spatters the graffiti-slathered alley walls and the graftpunk screeches in pain, a sound made doubly hideous by his cartilaginous tongue.

* Kaius barrels out of the shadows, his straight, Somnambulon-forged sword glinting.  His blow skewers the thug called Locks, who grunts in pain.

Kaius Alexander - You fools should have ran when you had the chance. I would have let you go.

* Eareg Maar lowers his weapon at locks and a flaming bullet leaps from the barrel

Lock's brains explode out the back of his skull.  The charred tentacles that'd been grafted to his scalp writhe in their death-throes.

* Eareg Maar looks at the surviving thugs daring them to continue.

* Tarim draws from a hidden pocket in his robe a small orb that looks like the shell of some strange insect. He takes aim and throws it at Hatchet.

The hellfire bomb comes up short, spattering harmlessly against the wall.  The bricks melt and dissolve, sizzling.

* Tarim groans, annoyed.

Slobber, screaming in pain, turns to run.  Kaius aims a blow as he dashes past.  The strike catches the creature at the knee, and he goes down in a tangle of limbs and flailing tongue, blood spreading beneath him.  Hatchet, the remaining thug, fires his gun at Kaius and makes to retreat.  The bullet goes wide, hitting the wall.  Hatchet retreats slowly, his hand-cannon still raised and his battleaxe-arm upraised.

Anyone want to follow him?

Gorethirst - ooc: Gorethirst will

Kaius Alexander - He'll just go to his friends. We'll only have to deal with him later. He cannot be allowed to escape.

Gorethirst - I think his friends are lying at our feet. But never leave a battle unfinished.


*Gorethirst's axe embeds itself in the man's head - he dies instantly.

Well, you made short work of those three.

Eareg Maar - Bloody alley rats.  Well, we better make the bodies disappear.

* Gorethirst busies himself by removing all the inorganic parts from the bodies and dragging them towards Corpsegobble

Tarim - Impressive fighting. I see you do much better now with your weapons at hand

Kaius Alexander - They chose the wrong prey on this day.

Gorethirst - Corpsegobble is a beast of many talents, there should not be a problem disposing the corpses

Tarim, you hear the sound of approaching footsteps, and a voice that says "I fink I 'eard it down 'ere... lucky we were passin'."

Corpsegobble is having a nice snack.

Tarim - I guess you won't need to worry about feeding your mount for a while now

* Eareg Maar gestures to his gun and the flames go out, he quickly shoulders it

Tarim - Someone's coming

* Kaius Alexander sheathes his sword smoothly

Gorethirst - These dire maggots never stop eating, but it is not difficult to find him something to eat.

* Tarim turns to face the direction of the footsteps

* Gorethirst slings his Greataxe over his shoulder and mounts up after 'gobble has finished with the corpses.

Now you can all hear the approach of booted feet.  They sound like they're coming from the same direction Kaius appeared from.

Tarim - Might be more trouble

Kaius Alexander - We'll see.

A group of armed humans and ghilan appear from round the corner, clothed in the boiled leathers and black cloaks of the militia.

"What's goin' on 'ere?" one of them demands, his revolver drawn.

Eareg Maar - Sorry, my fault, damned gun accidentally misfired.  Almost hit my friend there on the maggot.

"That so?"  The guard looks about the alley.  You've done a good job of cleaning it up in a hurry, but there are still some suspiciously wet stains.

Eareg Maar - That's what you get for walking around with a dire maggot... blasted thing leaks all the time.

"Well, citizen, I'd be willin' to overlook this little incident if you paid a small fine.  Twenty obeloi for an unlawfully discharged weapon, endangering citizens."  The man grins.

Eareg Maar - Sounds fair

Tarim - I will cover some of that. I did pick this alley for our.. meeting, after all

Gorethirst - Were you at the pit fights today?

The officer rudely ignores the leechkin.

* Eareg Maar hands Tarim five coins for his share.

* Tarim nods.

* Kaius Alexander tosses five obeloi to Tarim.

* Gorethirst digs out five coins and hands them to the militia man.

* Tarim adds five  from his own purse and hands the full twenty obeloi to the guard.

The officer collects his bribe, winks, and leads his men back the way they came.

Eareg Maar - let's hope we can continue without another incident.

Kaius Alexander - Yes. What were all of you doing out here?

Tarim - Well, waiting around in this area is clearly not very good for our wealth.

* Eareg Maar unshoulders his weapon and cocks it, sending a casing bouncing against the wall before reshouldering it.

(+5 xp for badassery)[/ic]

Much, much more to come - about 20 pages of logs, just need to be formatted.  Inquisitors, disguises, deceit, and murder in the sewers!

Next session is Tuesday the 20th at 4:15!

[ic=In the Shrine of the Wasting God]Gorethirst - I think we should investigate the temple.

Kaius Alexander - The temple?

Tarim - (to Kaius) I and the others are tracking down a certain inquisitor from Marainein.

Gorethirst - We have already encountered the militia and these miscreants. It cannot be worse.

Kaius Alexander - I see. If that is the case, I shall remain with you.

Tarim - A rich man. He wants something from me, but I'm determined to find him first and make sure he is... dealt with.

Eareg Maar - I doubt Tarim wants to enter and draw attention.  Perhaps our good leech here would check it out.

Gorethirst - I can climb onto the roof.

Tarim - Whatever loot we can pry from him, we'll share.

Kaius Alexander - Is this Inquisitor a formidable foe, Tarim?

Gorethirst - I have enough rope to let down as well. So if they watch the door we will not be seen.

Tarim - I do not know of his strength. Though if he came all the way here after me, he must be somewhat capable

Kaius Alexander - That is a fair point.

Tarim - With wealth he could hire some muscle.

Gorethirst - I think we should enter from the roof. Let me see if there is a good spot.

* Gorethirst goes to see if there is a vantage point out of view to climb onto the roof.

Eareg Maar - We are just scouting correct?

Tarim - We don't know whether he is in the temple. He is likely to have connections there though.

Eareg Maar - Tarim may not want to enter at all.

Tarim - Well, I could use a glamer to change my appearance.  They would not recognize me from the descriptions.

The shrine is almost flush against the city walls.  There are some ragged tenements and shacks about the periphery, and an ugly-looking butcher's shop as well.  Some of these are one-storey and might be clambered onto.  The door is open and unguarded, though not precisely welcoming.  The putrid visage of the Leprous Divinity Yzsch gazes down at you with stony, maggot-eaten eyes.

* Kaius Alexander stares back at it.

Tarim - I think it's best to avoid hostilities with the clergy.  If we get caught sneaking in, that could turn very ugly.

Eareg Maar - I agree.  If you go climbing up you're on your own... I won't risk that.

Tarim - Those guards might not be so willing to settle for a fine a second time.

Gorethirst - Then let us go through the front door, then.

* Tarim chants and gestures, casting Deceptive Visage (Disguise Self)

Any particular guise you'd like?

* Tarim 's appearance seems to melt like candlewax, then shapes and sets into the form of a human male, about in his thirties.

They won't be able to detect the illusion unless they interact with you, and then they get a Will save to disbelieve.  You have 40 minutes in this form before the glamer dissolves.

Tarim - (can I speak ? without risking it)

Yes, your voice might sound a little odd for a human, but not bizarrely so.  If you were a lilix it might be trickier.

Tarim - Lets us go and investigate. We'll pretend to be faithful, coming to pray

* Kaius Alexander stands patiently by the entrance

* Tarim heads to the shrine

Eareg Maar - ooc: would the faithful walk into a shrine armed and armored?

* Kaius Alexander follows

Not with weapons drawn, but they might be bearing arms - that's so common in this city it's not a big deal.

*Gorethirst instructs Corpsegobble to wait outside.

* Tarim reaches the doorway and peeks in

You see a low, gloomy room.  Tarim, the architecture here is typical of Marainein - dark stone, tall, imposing pillars, and omnipresent religious iconography.  Darkly clad devotees of the Wasting God attend the shrine, which includes a pool of murky water set before an ivory statuette of the deity, for worshippers to offer coins to.  There's no immediate sign of the Inquisitor.

Tarim - (do I know much about their rites? I don't have the appropriate knowledge skill I think)

Their rites are many, but the basic ones are typical - money in exchange for blessings, etcetera.  You throw coins into the "Holy Pool" and supposedly incur the beneficence of His Putridity.

* Tarim enters the shrine and looks for some priestly type - anyone that might be the one in charge

There appears to be what would be termed a Prelate, officiating near the pool.  This is a fairly minor official, but still probably a high-ranking individual in Macellaria.

Kaius Alexander - How shall we find this Inquisitor? There are many here. I do not know if it would be wise to be asking too many questions, if being surreptitious is our goal.

* Kaius Alexander follows Tarim in and flicks an obeloi into the pool

Tarim - I think that man might know something.  I'll tell him that I'm wishing to make a large donation, and ask to negotiate in private

* Gorethirst follows behind the others, dropping three obeloi into the pool

After Gorethirst's donation, one of the clerics looks up with distrust.

* Gorethirst stares back

"What do you want, parasite?  There is no blood for you to drink here."

Tarim - Please try not to cause any scenes

* Gorethirst shakes its head and walks out the door.
*Gorethirst steps outside.

As Gorethirst waits with Corpsegobble, it sees the Inquisitor approaching from down the street.

* Gorethirst mounts up quickly

The man walks with the aid of an ebony cane.  He looks thin and old but spry.  As he nears he glares at you fiercely.

Gorethirst - Hello Sir.  I was waiting for you after I seen you at Erubescence.  You are looking for a certain ghul?

"What would a swamp-beast know of such things?"  The Inquisitor glares at you, as if disgusted.

Gorethirst - This swamp-beast may have knowledge of the ghul. What is it worth to you?

Meanwhile, inside the shrine'¦

* Tarim approaches the Prelate

Tarim - Excuse me, holy one

"May I help you, child?"

* Kaius Alexander raises his visor and looks at the Prelate

Tarim - Let's just say that there is  a pressing need for me to... improve my standing in the eyes of the Wasting God. I have been advised to seek his blessing by gathering a donation to this shrine. A large donation. But I think there are some things I should discuss with you about this matter.  In private, if it can be arranged.

The Prelate raises one eyebrow.

"Very well.  Come with me, and we shall discuss this further..."

* Tarim nods

He gestures that you follow him into an inner sanctum.

* Eareg Maar stays out with Gorethirst.

* Kaius Alexander stays by the pool inside the shrine.

Tarim - Thank you. The thing is, the advice has been given to me by a certain man of your faith, one who arrived here recently from the holiest city of Marainein.  Now, certain... complications have arisen, and I need to discuss with him as soon as possible. But he never told me where he is residing.  I was wondering if you knew of this man, and could help me out in finding him? He is, I understand, of respectable rank.

"Ah, you must mean Brother Gervantes."

Tarim - That was indeed the name he told me.

"He is currently staying, I believe, in the Pulsetown district - apparently our accommodations are too humble for so great a man."  You detect a hint of annoyance in the Prelate's tone.  "Let me see... if I recall correctly he is residing in a place called the Raven's Nest, not far from the border between Hexwarren and Pulsetown, just off Tatterdemalion Court."

* Tarim nods humbly

"Now, you were speaking of a donation, child?"

Tarim - Yes, the donation. I am still in the progress of gathering it. Large sums, you see, are not quickly conjured, even by a merchant as talented as myself - if I do say so myself.  The donation will be delivered soon enough, provided that I'll manage to sort out these complications I mentioned.

"I, ah, see.  What sort of business are you in, if you don't mind my inquiring?"

Tarim - Oh, I trade in many items of value. Fine cloths, jewellery, medicinal and... other valued substances

"It sounds most profitable.  I hope I have been of assistance.  What exactly is it that you need from Brother Gervantes?"

Tarim - That is helpful, and I am grateful for this information. I need to speak with him soon, concerning these complications. I am certain that together we can sort it out quickly.

"I will pray for your swift success.  I look forward greatly to your return, Mister...?"

Tarim - Rowys Meth. It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance

"And yours, Mister Meth.  Praise Yzsch!"

Tarim - I must bid you farewell now. I am eager to find brother Gervantes.  Praise Yzsch!

* Tarim heads out of the room.

Back outside'¦

Eareg finds Gorethirst conversing with a man in a dark coat and a wide-brimmed hat, walking with the aid of an ebony stick.

The man speaking with Gorethirst looks at the leechkin sharply.

"You know where I can find this creature?"

Gorethirst - For the right price I could remember.

The Inquisitor grits his teeth, clearly annoyed.

"Very well," he says.  "What about ten pieces of silver?  Would that adequately jog your memory?"

* Kaius Alexander wanders to the threshold of the shrine
* Kaius Alexander cocks his head at the conversation taking place outside

Gorethirst - As the lilix told you, silver coin is not good in Macellaria.  But, I could be persuaded if the amount was large enough.  To cover the cost of exchange.

The Inquisitor snorts.

"Very well.  Twenty coins.  Enough to buy you enough blood to drink yourself into a stupor."

Gorethirst - Twenty coins it is, unless you would be willing to offer blood instead.

"You will have none of my fluids, parasite, but here are you coins."  He hands Gorethirst the money.  "Now, what is your information?"

* Tarim emerges from the inner sanctum, back in the main room.

Gorethirst - The ghul can be found between Slimesquallor and Resurrection Row.

Only Kaius awaits you, Tarim.

Gorethirst - I can lead the way for you if you wish.

* Gorethirst pockets the twenty silver coins.

Tarim - Let us go. I am pleased with the information I learned.

* Kaius Alexander motions for Tarim to stop as the ghul reaches the door.

"Indeed?  I know his residence is in Wormhive; why does he loiter near the hagmen?"

* Gorethirst shrugs.

* Eareg Maar quietly slips back inside the temple and informs Tarim of what's going on.

Gorethirst - I do not know the ways of the grave-spawn.

"Very well.  Wait here - I must confer with my Prelate.  Then you may show me the way."

* Gorethirst nods in agreement.

* Tarim hurries outside.

Tarim - What an interesting turn of events.

Tarim, you pass the Inquisitor on the way out.  He eyes you darkly as you walk past each other.  Your glamer has foiled him.

(Note that the Prelate will almost certainly tell him a certain Mr. Meth is looking for him)

* Gorethirst quickly and quietly informs Tarim what has happened.

* Tarim waits for the inquisitor to be out of earshot, then speaks to the others.

Gorethirst - I think we should lead him somewhere a bit further from the militia and ambush him.

Tarim - Well, now we better get back tot hat alley.  Before he comes out - he *will* be suspicious, and possibly confused.

Kaius Alexander - ooc: presumably we can follow Gorethirst and the Inquisitor from a distance.

Tarim - We must observe him, but beware - he will be watchful.

* Kaius Alexander nods his assent.

* Tarim heads quickly back to the alley they were at earlier.

Gorethirst - I will lead him in the general direction of the Slimesquallor; follow closely.[/ic]

Where is Eareg getting all this coin? (Money seems to solve many problems.)

Quote from: Light DragonWhere is Eareg getting all this coin? (Money seems to solve many problems.)

He has about 500 bones stashed about his person. He isn't street savvy but he's in and out of the butcher's gate enough to know that money lubes the macellarian gears, so he keeps a fair share of it hidden on him to make his day go smoothly.

Gorethirst had a hundred or so obeloi on him before this misadventure as well. I didn't spend it to the last dime at creation.

[ic=Backstreet Brawl]The tall, grim man now emerges from the depths of the shrine of the Wasting God.

He is garbed in the spare, ecclesiastical clothes of the Marainein warrior-priests, walking with the aid of a heavy ebony stick.  His face is a scarred ruin, small black eyes gleaming like shards of flint from out of his swarthy, lined face, shielded from the sun by his fraying broad-brimmed hat.  As he steps out of the shadow of the temple he removes a pair of round, tinted glasses from his coat and puts them on.  The amulet of the Inquisition gleams on his chest.  A huge bruiser of a man in clergyman's robes follows him out.  Bald-headed and heavily muscled, this man looks to be a low-level cleric.

* Tarim hides in the shadows of the alley, watching.

"Well, leech, lead on," Inquisitor Gervantes mutters.

Tarim - *whispers to the others* He has company. I think he suspects someone is after his life.

Kaius Alexander - Perhaps.

Tarim - That wouldn't be unreasonable, given my little ploy just got blown

* Gorethirst nods and wheels Corpsegobble around, heading slowly towards the depths of the city

The Inquisitor and his neophyte follow warily.  The bodyguard has a huge scimitar slung in his robe-belt.

Tarim - I would like to interrogate him, but it might be better to not take chances.

Kaius Alexander - We shall see how things develop.

Tarim - His follower I care nought for, better that we nail that one quickly.

* Tarim drops to the tail of the group and, when a suitable moment comes, unleashes Harden the Skin from a tattoo, then hurries after the others

The district of Slimesquallor is one of curving streets and distinctive greenstone buildings in the traditional architectural style of the hagmen.  Columns sculpted to resemble eel-like coils support domed roofs and long arcades; public pools can be glimpsed to either side of the streets, and the residences seem to be communal halls that double as bathhouses.  Also prominent are temples to the many-faced hagman deity and tall, tiered teahouses.  Hagmen are everywhere here: green-fleshed creatures with barbed whiskers, toothy vertical mouths, and lamprey-like lower bodies, mostly garbed only in crude jewellery.  Their mucus-trails cover the ground in a sticky slick.

You're on the border between districts here, where the slums give way to the temples and baths.  It's quiet, but not totally deserted - there are a few hagmen about, slinking between structures a way down the street.

Gorethirst - Just down this alley Inquisitor.

* Gorethirst turns down the alley.

The Inquisitor follows.  The bodyguard cautiously draws his blade.

Tarim - I think we're getting to a good territory to make our move.  Be ready

*Gorethirst spurs Corpsegobble to pin the Inquisitor!

* Eareg Maar quietly sets up and takes aim on the bodyguard

You hear a yell of fear and a squeal from Corpsegobble as the dire maggot attacks the Inquisitor, attempting to grapple him.

Tarim - They're at it!

The Inquisitor draws a hidden blade from his cane in a flash of steel and attacks.  Corpsegobble is hit!  Fortunately the creature is only grazed by the attack - but that nixes his grapple.

* Kaius Alexander rushes to the mouth of the alley, drawing his sword.

* Tarim Tarim follows in after Kaius, dagger drawn

Tarim - *shouting* Take the inquisitor alive if you can, but don't take risks - kill if you must.

Gorethirst - I will pin him under Corpsegobble.

Corpsegobble is leaking clearish blood. and squealing in pain.  The Inquisitor darts back with startling agility for an older man as Gorethirst's axe swings towards him.  He pulls a bolas from his robes and hurls it at Gorethirst.  The bolas wrap around the leechkin's neck.

* Gorethirst falls to the ground with a choked yowl.

* Eareg Maar quietly takes aim at the cleric (1 aim token) before launching a flaming projectile at his body.  The clerical bodyguard screams in pain as the flaming bullet sears his flesh.

* Tarim points a taloned finger at the cleric and chants with eldritch words. A dripping mass of black fluid oozes out from his arm and shapes into a bolt, which shoots forth at the target.  The eldritch missile hits the wounded cleric, splattering him with caustic fluid.  The acid begins to eat away at the man's face.  He drops his blade in agony.

*Kaius Alexander steps in with his longsword.  He half-decapitates the cleric with a single blow, abruptly silencing his screams.

*Gorethirst untangles himself and mounts Corpsegobble again, calming the frenzied dire maggot.  In the tight spaces of the alleyway, it is difficult to manoeuvre the bulky creature.

"Incompetent fool," the Inquisitor mutters.  With a fluid motion he hurls three shuriken towards Tarim, Kaius, and Eareg!  Then he turns, and rushes past Gorethirst down the alley.  Two of the shurkens go wide, but one catches Kaius in a chink of his armour.  Though the toughened warrior is unhurt, the shuriken was tipped with poison.  For now, the armiger shrugs off the poison's effects.  The Inquisitor grunts in pain as Gorethirst's axe grazes his back.

* Eareg Maar lines up his target and let's fly with a crack, but the bullet sails over the Inquisitor's head.

* Tarim grabs another Hellfire Bomb, takes a few running steps, and throws the shelled explosive at the Inquisitor.  The bomb hits the man squarely in the back.  He curses loudly, and his coat is now aflame!

Kaius, your turn.  There's a flaming Inquisitor in front of you, about to disappear round a corner.

*Kaius follows in hot pursuit of the Inquisitor.  He darts round a corner, batting at the flames ineffectually.

*Gorethirst spurs his mount.  The giant maggot squirms round the corner, scuttling on its many legs.  With a bestial shriek it collides with the Inquisitor, pinning the dark-coated figure to the flagstone street!
* Gorethirst lets loose a twin throated howl in success

Gorethirst - I have pinned the Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor struggles and curses.

Gorethirst - Stop struggling you human fool.

* Eareg Maar takes off after them (double move).

* Tarim runs over to the street corner (double move).

The Inquisitor stops struggling.  The flames have finally gone out.

Alright.  You've got a pinned Inquisitor of Marainein (badly scorched).

"Get this beast off me," he grunts.

Tarim - Can we tie him up?

Gorethirst - I have plenty of rope in my bag.

* Gorethirst throws his sack onto the ground.

Tarim - We better move out of here if we're to interrogate him. Don't want any bystanders raising a ruckus.

Gorethirst - How are we supposed to move a tied up hostage without being seen by the militia?

Tarim - We could look for an abandoned house.

Gorethirst - I do like the fighting pits, but I would at least one day of freedom.[/ic]

[ic=Murder in the Sewers]Eareg, you notice a manhole cover nearby... almost certainly leading to the sewers and catacombs beneath the city.

* Eareg Maar walks over to the manhole cover and lifts it up.

Tarim - Good thinking.  We hould have some privacy down there.

It's not too heavy - it can be easily removed.

Tarim - Though I hear there are people and things living down there.

(Most of the city's cestoid population, for one).

Eareg Maar - nothing scarier than me or uglier than you.

* Eareg Maar smirks and drops down the hole.

* Tarim descends the manhole.

You land in a stinking sewer-tunnel, a squarish passage with a channel cut in the floor.  A sluggish flow of sewage churns in the channel, but there are narrow catwalks along the sides.

Eareg Maar - shove him down and we'll make sure he doesn't run off.

* Kaius Alexander pushes the Inquisitor towards the manhole.

Kaius Alexander - Down you go.

The Inquisitor spits but complies.

* Gorethirst dismounts and lets Corpsegobble wiggle down first, then follows.

Tarim - Alright.  Now, time to decide what we're going to do with you.

* Kaius Alexander drags the cover back into place as he descends.

* Eareg Maar sighs, happy to be out of the sunlight.

"Kill me if you must.  More will come in my place."

Tarim - How well you answer our questions will influence that decision.

Note that Tarim's glamer is still functioning, so he resembles a living human male in his thirties rather than a crazed grave-spawn magus with mechanical lenses for eyes.

Gorethirst - I went to a great deal of trouble to take you alive. You will not be killed out of hand.

"Who are you?  The mysterious Mister Meth?  Or some other blackguard?"

Tarim - WE ask the questions here!

"I will answer none of them, cur."

Tarim - Oh, how brave!

* Eareg Maar casually taps the barrel of his gun against the man's chin

Tarim - Perhaps we should try and loosen your tongue a bit, then?

Eareg Maar - Wonder what his brains would like decorating the wall behind him?

"I welcome death.  The Wasting God has reserved a place for me by His side.  Your threats mean nothing."

Tarim - Oh, but death here should be the least of your concerns.

A glint of fear enters the Inquisitor's eyes at the ghul's words, despite his previous proclamation.

Tarim - It's rather HOW you die that matter now, doesn't it?

"I do not fear death, in any form."  His words sound increasingly hollow and quaking, uncertain.

[16:05] Tarim - So answer our questions, and answer them well.

Tarim - Now, why have you arrived in this city?

"If I tell you, will you release me?"

Tarim - Perhaps.

"If you must know my purposes, look in my right coat pocket.  There you will find a copy of my orders."

Tarim - This better not be a ploy.

"I swear on Yzsch Himself."

Tarim - No enchanted "surprises" in that paper.

* Tarim takes the otrders out of his coat pocket.

He says nothing.

Tarim - Hmm.

* Tarim reads the paper silently.

Nothing explodes.

* Kaius Alexander casually checks the rounds in his revolver

The papers:

"Inquisitor Gervantes Ro,

You are hereby ordered to track down the convicted heretic and abomination known as Tarim and retrieve from his possession a book, seemingly mundane but in actual fact a dangerous and blasphemous artefact.  Though on first glance this tome will appear to be a simple journal, it in fact utilizes a diabolic cipher and several unholy wards to protect its innermost secrets.  Our informants have discovered that the work contained within, if properly decoded, could catapult the sorcerer to heights of power as great as YZSCH himself, our LORD and SAVIOR.

While we suspect that due to his self-induced transformation the grave-spawn has not yet unlocked the blackest secrets of his own diary, it is only a matter of time.  Our archons have speculated that his transition into un-death is merely the first stage of his dark ascension.  When Tarim left the City of the Wasting God it was not yet known how great a threat he and his so-called diary posed: only a lengthy interrogation of his former pupil and apprentice - a man Tarim himself discharged long prior to his transformation - revealed the terrible truth.

Under no circumstances is the book to be destroyed: it must be returned to Marainein and the Palace of YZSCH for careful study.  Tarim is expendable; however, if you obtain the book without slaying the ghul you need not bother with executing him, as without the journal he is no longer a threat.  Returning without the book will be interpreted as an admission of failure and incompetence and will be punished accordingly.

BRIN-EL GRYXET QEZTACH Y'GOTH!

ALL PRAISE BE TO YZSCH!

Archprelate Krantiss Urdon
9th Tier Archon and Keeper of the Withering Flame"

* Tarim grins gleefully.

Gorethirst - Something interesting comrade?

Tarim - Confirms what was already known, and adds some new insights.

"I trust your curiosity is assuaged?"

* Tarim pockets the orders.

Tarim - Most importantly, it seems that we cannot spare your life. Unfortunately.

Kaius Alexander - He is too dangerous to be kept alive.

Tarim - Indeed, too dangerous for us.  He would report to his comrades and send them after us.  It is better that he disappears

Gorethirst - I will take his blood then.

"No!  Not the parasite!  The abomination!"

Gorethirst - The combat has given quite the thirst.

* Gorethirst delicately brings his palm mouths towards the Inquisitors neck.

"Please, kill me by blade or bullet, not by that horror!"

* Kaius Alexander frowns slightly.

Tarim - A quick death is fine by me.  Let's just get the bloody business over with.

* Eareg Maar lowers his gun to the man's head and fires.

Eareg Maar - Sorry, leech, but even scum as him doesn't deserve such a death.

* Gorethirst feeds off the still warm body, greedily slurping his quieting blood.

Tarim - The blood should still be good, no?

Kaius Alexander - Unfortunate. What did the orders say, Tarim?

Tarim - A long story. You see, I hail from that accursed Maranein myself

Gorethirst - What spoils does he have?

Has has: a purse with 236 Marainein silver coins (worth approximately 708 Macellarian obeloi), a masterwork rapier with ebony swordcane, nine masterwork shurikens, an Inquisition Amulet, and a small ring set with a jade stone.

Gorethirst - Here are the twenty silver coins he paid me earlier.

* Gorethirst adds the twenty coins back into the pouch.

* Eareg Maar takes his cane and examines it.

It's a dark wood cane that can easily conceal the rapier.

* Eareg Maar sheaths the rapier in it and hands it to Tarim.

Tarim - I had to flee the city after the priesthood accused me of heresy - not that I had ever truly messed with their church.

Eareg Maar - I expect to be paid well once everything is sold and wrapped up.

Tarim - Of course.

Gorethirst - I will take my share after it has been exchanged into coin as well.  In good Macellaria obeloi, that is.

Kaius Alexander - Do you suspect that they will send another man after you?

Tarim - Well, it turns out they weren't happy with my spellbooks containing some of the more "heretical" texts.  Not just ordinary stuff, you see, but something they wanted destroyed BADLY.

Kaius Alexander - Hmm.

Tarim - You know how these fanatics can be about such matters.

Kaius Alexander - No. But I will take your word.

Tarim - They put their faith before life and property.  Crazy types, really.  Anyway, he is dead now.  No more threat to me. My thanks to you for your aid.

*Kaius inclines his head slightly.[/ic]

>>Gorethirst - I do like the fighting pits, but I would at least one day of freedom.

Amusing.

We're now caught up.  I allowed the players to skip over the boring task of money-changing (there are plenty of moneychangers in the Bazaars and the Court-of-Bones), and they sold the ring for 100 obeloi to Masters Woof & Stillborn in Resurrection Row.

We have gotten significantly faster at combat already, I think.