Blood and Bewitchment Logs

[Superfluous Crow]

Damn it, how did I miss last session? When was it??
Maybe you should begin putting dates on sessions according to what day they were played.

[Steerpike]

Fair enough, I'll start adding on the dates.

We play every Tuesday at 4:15 PM EST, or 9:15 GMT.  No worries about missing sessions - you'll get plenty of xp and some loot from Wispy's subplot.  I decided you were guarding the door against other Masticators last session, so it'll be easy for you to jump back in next session if you like.

[Steerpike]

BTW I will psot the Wispy & Carver burgalry write-ups once that plot gets finished up (so that it doesnt' get too scattered).

[LD]

They are well worth the wait.

[Steerpike]

August 24th, 2010:

[ic=Nightmares]Glut is slain, the Masticators are dead or fled, and the contract with Mara of the Dogskull Clan is completed.  Having decided to leave the suicide-inducing statuette in the aslyum's basement, the group prepares to leave.  Before they do so Tarim retraces his steps to the second floor and studies the glyphs in one of the cells more closely, deciphering a formula for the Hideous Laughter hex.

* Tarim sits down and opens his grimoire, taking a quill and dipping it in ink.

* Tarim meticulously scribbles down the glyphs, while Fangs keeps watch by the doorway.  He copies the spell, a laborious process taking several hours.  The glyphs are interspersed with the incoherent ramblings of the former occupant, making the task especially difficult.

* Gorethirst goes to the roof to check on Corpsegobble.

Corpsegobble is irritable at being left up in the cold night air, but otherwise fine.  It whines at you - hungry for carrion.

* Gorethirst leads Corpsegobble down to street level then returns into the asylum to gather a batch of corpses for his mount.

* Gorethirst drags out Glut's corpse and those of three Masticators felled in the raid.

Without difficulty you get more than enough cadavers to satisfy the dire maggot's voracious hunger.  You can almost see it grow as it greedily devours Glut and his henchmen.

* Kaius Alexander watches placidly.

*Mr. Carver waits by the door, twirling one of his knives.

Kaius Alexander - Let us deliver the teeth to Mara, then.  I would like to see this contract done.

* Gorethirst takes one last look through the asylum for anything worth selling.

* Tarim, having finished his scribblings, descends the stairs to the ground level.

Tarim - I presume none of you have any more business in this asylum.

* Gorethirst waves Tarim towards the door.

Gorethirst - I am finished with this place.

Tarim - Time to fetch our prize.

*Mr. Carver tips his hat and walks off back into the Row.

Note that while he was infected with a disease from a swarm of piranha rats back in the catacombs, Dr. Gristle provided Mr. Carver with a vaccine as a favor for his work the previous night.

You head back to the Laughing Fiend tavern by the Butcher's Gate.  This late at night, the streets of Resurrection Row are peopled by junkies and toughs who eye you menacingly until they notice your weapons and bloodied clothes and armour.  Though few people in Macellaria are truly homeless - there are a surfeit of buildings, and the militia are not overly fussy about squatters - plenty of them are still impoverished in the slums of the Row.  Ragged street-folk, cestoids, and leechkin cluster around barrels of burning refuse, trying to keep warm.

Mara and several other men and women with the tattoos of Dogskull clansmen are seated at the bar inside the Laughing Fiend, raucously talking and throwing back drinks.

* Kaius Alexander throws the teeth down heavily on the bar.

Kaius Alexander - It is done.

Mara cocks an eyebrow, gesturing that the party sit, if they wish.

* Tarim approaches them, grinning triumphantly.

"That was fast.  You lot look a bit worse for wear."

Kaius Alexander - It is no matter. I will heal shortly.  You have paid for the best. We pride ourselves on efficient work.

"I'm sure.  Here's your payment, as promised, and a five hundred obeloi bonus for such speedy service."  She deposits a heavy sack of bone coins.

Note - I tweaked this - the bonus is sort of recompense intended for Eareg/Carver, who weren't officially part of the contract but who did do a lot during the fight.  I made a note of it to Nomadic.

* Kaius Alexander inclines his head respectfully.

Tarim - Oh, we happened to run into one of your other hires in the asylum. A black man with a hexed blade.

Gorethirst - He was slain in the battle.

Tarim - We found him alive, one arm eaten. As Gorethirst says, regrettably, he did not make it out alive.

"That fool Girm?  I'm not surprised.  A braggart and a reckless fighter.  I'm afraid I underestimated the Masticators, sending him in."

Gorethirst - Did you manage to acquire any antiques of the Ur-Bone variety?

She turns to Gorethirst.  "Indeed I did, just for the antique enthusiast."

Mara sets down a helm made of solid black bone that glistens in the sepia lamplight.  The helm has no visor but is carved to resemble a monstrous visage with an open maw.  Wicked horns sprout from the temples.

"Phaine found this gathering dust - couldn't find a buyer for it at first, and then it got lost in amongst some other old stuff.  It's yours if you want it, leech."

* Gorethirst accepts the helm.

* Tarim eyes the helm, curious if it has any witchery in it.

Gorethirst - You have my thanks human.

It's not obviously bewitched with additional hexes, but the eldritch radiation that surrounds all ur-bone appear to have been stripped, so that Gorethirst doesn't start growing tentacles out of his face.

Gorethirst - ooc: well that is a relief :D  maybe if I was Carver it wouldn't be so bad ~~

"Care to have a drink with us scoundrels and rapscallions?"

Tarim - A drink to celebrate our victory sounds good.

Gorethirst - Is there any other bloodwork that you need done Mara?

"Not for the time being, leech, though I must say, I'm impressed.  If anything comes up we need freelancers for, I'll think of you.  Unless you were looking for a more permanent position?"

* Gorethirst shakes its head.

Gorethirst - Freelance work will be fine for me.

"What would you like to drink, Tarim?"

Tarim - A cup of blood wine for me

"We got some in special just this afternoon."

Tarim - Sounds good.

She snaps her fingers and the antlered barkeep fetches you a mulled blood-red-wine blend.

* Tarim brings it to his dried lips and tastes a bit.

* Kaius Alexander stands nearby, silently.

There's a hint of oak, and an undertone of decomposing flesh, pleasant to the grave-spawn palette'¦

"So, did Glut and his cronies put up a good fight?"

Gorethirst - No, they were killed like fools.

Tarim - Aside from their lack of tactical savvy, they did fight with much ferocity.

She snorts.  "They had a lot more brawn than brains."

Tarim - Do you not want a drink, Gorethirst? Or did you have enough already in the asylum?

Gorethirst - Ah yes, perhaps a goblet of blood would be quite nice.

She orders you one.

* Gorethirst drinks awkwardly from the goblet.

"Anything for you, Mr. Alexander?  You're awfully quiet and dour this evening."

Kaius Alexander - I will take clean water, if you have any.

"Of course.  Not easy to find in this city, but we do have a supply."

The water is clear and cold, unclouded by sediment.

Tarim - In the end though, when Glut fell they ran like rodents.

* Kaius Alexander sips slowly.

Kaius Alexander - Vermin. This city is filled with them.

* Tarim drink the rest of his blood-wine.

* Gorethirst finishes his drink, spilling a little on his bloody palms.

Mara laughs.  "Aren't we all but vermin, Mr. Alexander - rats in the cosmic maze?  What do the Lamenters call us?  'The fester-spawned parasites of a cadaverous earth'?"

Gorethirst - I believe I will retire for the evening. A pleasure working with you Mara.

She nods to the leechkin.  "And with you, Gorethirst.  I hope you like your antique."

Gorethirst - A beautiful piece.

Tarim - Need some rest myself. I bid you farewell for the night.

"Farewell."

The thieves begin to swap tales and brag to one another of their exploits in Filchspeak.

* Gorethirst leaves the bar and mounts Corpsegobble going to find an entrance to the catacombs.

* Tarim exits the tavern and heads for his home in the Worm-Hive.

* Kaius Alexander finishes his water and leaves.

Mara winks at the Insomnolent as he exits the bar.

Gorethirst, you find a likely nook in the catacombs, sequestered away from the territories of the sewer scavengers and the cestoid nests.

Tarim, after studying your spells, you retire for the evening, glad to have the statuette out of your chambers.  Even without its sinister presence your dreams are tinged with nightmarish residues, as if the thing had tainted your rooms'¦

Kaius, you return to your rooms and slip into your usual brief sleep.

Welcoming oblivion takes you, but your preterslumber is again interrupted.  You hear Lady Genevieve's voice shouting at you: "Wake up Kaius!  Wake up!"

You wake with a start.  Cool night air wafts in through an open window.

* Kaius Alexander jolts to his feet and looks around.

You notice that something is slithering beneath your sheets, moving towards the head of the bed totally silent.

* Kaius Alexander grabs his revolver from beneath his pillow and backs away cautiously.

The sheets rustle.  A cartialginous worm squirms out from under them, a small, sphincter-like maw on one tip opening and closing.  It squeals and twists around.  A cluster of crude, black eyes regard you from the other tip.

* Kaius Alexander sights down his revolver at the creature.

Kaius Alexander - And what are you? No matter, you will soon be nothing.

The worm-like thing coils as if to spring, but the Unsleeping warrior pulls his trigger before it can.  His bullet hits the worm and severs its body into two pieces.

* Kaius Alexander lowers his revolver and leans over to examine the creature's remains.

The worm hisses.  The two halves are still alive, bleeding a foul liquid everywhere.  Your sheets are quite ruined.

* Kaius Alexander puts on a boot and stamps on the worm-halves.

The worm-like thing dies.  A cool breeze wafts through the open window.

Kaius Alexander - Curious. Worm creatures in the night.

*After the fight at the asylum Eareg Maarretires to his den outside the city.

On the door, you find a piece of parchment pinned to the wood by a dagger.

* Eareg Maar pulls the dagger out.

Eareg Maar - You'd think people would find less cliché days to deliver notes these days.

* Eareg Maar examines the parchment.

The sigil of the Crimson Shadows is drawn on the parcment.  Below it are written the words "Remember us?  Don't be a stranger.  Come pay a visit soon."

Eareg Maar - Ah hell.  Was sure they didn't know where I lived.

* Eareg Maar crumples up the paper and tosses it on the ground.

* Eareg Maar unlocks the door and heads inside

Fortunately your cave is untouched, and doesn't even have any insectile horrors or assassin-worms to make your evening more exciting.

* Eareg Maar plops down on a old beaten chair, taking Meteor in his hands.

Eareg Maar - So my fine fiery fellow now that we have a few I wonder what other secrets you hold.

* Eareg Maar examines the rifle.

The runes glow more brightly than they once did.  The rifle is hot to the touch - not enough to burn, but noticeably warm.

Eareg Maar - Hmm.  Well I'm sure I'll have you figured out you misbehaving contraption

* Eareg Maar places Meteor on a table before retiring to bed.

Eareg, you dream of fire, and of a woman's voice.  The face of a man you do not recognize, yet that somehow seems familiar, haunts your dream as well, till it is consumed by the flames, flseh blackening and sloughing off the bones, leaving only a charred skull beneath.  You wake the next day in a sweat, almost as if you were feverish - though, of course, that is impossible, as ghilan cannot be touched by fever or sickness of any kind.[/ic]

[Steerpike]

Some may have noticed that I added the description "Part One: Rattle" to the first post.  You may be starting Part Two soon.  Provided the campaign keeps running (and I'll run it so long as I'm able and players are willing) I envision a minimum of 10 "Parts."  Just a minor note, doesn't really effect the day-to-day on the campaign.

[LD]

Will you be compiling a list of the bars and inns and locations that exist mentioned by players and yourself?

[Steerpike]

That's a good idea.  Maybe a list of landmarks more generally split into categories.

EDIT: Added on the front page.  Not quite a list to rival Igbar's detail quite yet, but perhaps on its way.

[Steerpike]

August 24th 2010 continued:

[ic=Challenges]*Tarim heads out looking to purchase some spells.

Tarim, you head into the bustling thoroughfares of the Hexwarren, where servitors rub shoulders with witches and even the street performers are minor conjurors and gutter magi rather than the usual crop of musicians and acrobats.

A crazed looking human clothed in a dusty robe thrown atop the rags of a tramp gesticulates wildly at a street corner.  His irises twinkle with greenish-golden light.  The man's hair is incredibly long and unkempt, and seems to rustle with the scuttling of insects, tiny bugs squirming in and out of his matted locks.  As you watch, he mutters some bit of sorcerous doggerel and the creatures in his hair swarm suddenly out of it en masse, a skittering flow of black chitin.  All of the insects appear to be small scarab beetles.

As the gutter-witch conjures and raves his slurred chant the beetles begin to clamber atop one another, to conglomerate themselves into a chittering living statute accreted out of legs and shells and wings that warps and reshapes itself in obedience to the man's instructions.  First he does a cat and a dog, then a camel, then a cobra.  Next he moves on to more ambitious creations, forcing the insects into the shapes of a swordsman practicing his moves, of a curvaceous humanoid woman with swaying movements as inviting as any streetwalker's, of a six-limbed mantid with scissoring blade-arms, of a monkey that flails its arms and tail and scurries up his back to perch on his shoulder.  Appreciative passersby throw coins into the scuffed-looking top-hat at the witch's feet.

* Tarim strides confidently, feeling at home in amidst all the witchery. Fangs is flying somewhere above, gliding between rooftops and occasionally stopping to perch on one in a crude imitation of a gargoyle.

* Tarim glances briefly at the bug-performance but carries on in his way.

There are dozens of spell-vendors and glyph parlours, scroll-sellers and old bookshops piled high with grimoires here.

You locate a grizzled old human magus who smokes an ornate hookah while his monkey familiar capers round the shop, filing scrolls and the like.

*Tarim describe the spells he's looking for - Entropic Shield, Mirror Image, and Necrotic Cust - and the human witch rummages around in his collection till he finds the requisite formulae.

Tarim - Just the hexes I was after.

"That'll be two hundred and fifty bones."  He eyes you, exhales purplish smoke.  "What trade you in?"

Tarim - Anything that pays... and doesn't land me in too much trouble.

* Tarim grins.

* Tarim examines the hexes, then hands over the money.

He grins - an awful sight, his teeth smoke-stained and yellow.

"Care for a puff?"

Tarim - I'll pass.

"Probably wise."  He laughs, which turns into a hacking cough.

'¦

* Gorethirst awakes and surfaces from the catacombs in Pulsetown.  It heads towards the Church of Striga.

The Sanguine Church looms above the winding streets of Pulsetown, a gaudy abomination of iridescent stained glass and sculptured red and yellow stone, its steepled brow crowned by a troupe of weird statues halfway between warrior-angels and grimacing monsters, gorgeous fanged seraphs with wings of gilt and huge swords, their countenances both beautiful and horrendous to behold.

A tendril of black smoke curls out from a cluster of brass chimneys that bristles from the building like a tumour, or a pipe organ.  From inside, a dull chant can vaguely be heard.


* Gorethirst approaches the main entrance, riding Corpsegobble and wearing the Helm of Urus.

Two red-robed worshippers glare at you as you climb the steps.

"You disgrace this place with your presence, parasite," one growls.  "Begone, unclean one."

Gorethirst - I am here to see one Servius Izar.

The neophyte steps forwards.  "I said be off.  You are not worthy of speaking his name, scum."

Gorethirst - Fetch him, I am here to deliver a message to him on behalf of the Guild of Crimson Shadows.

* Gorethirst glares at the neophyte.

"I fetch no one, and you do not issue orders or make demands on Striga's hallowed ground!"  He pulls a jagged knife from his belt, and his companion does the same.

Gorethirst - Fools.  Perhaps he will see me when I drain your corpses dry.

The neophyte moves to strike, raising his weapon...

*Gorethirst lowers its head and gores the Striga worshipper.  He grunts in pain as the horns burst through his chest and out his back.  He drops his dagger as blood burst from his mouth.  The leechkin shakes the man off its horns and he slumps to the ground.

*Gorethirst places its palm-mouths on the dying neophyte's face and drains him dry, leaving only a pallid husk.

Gorethirst - Will you fetch Servius now human?

The other neophyte retches noisily all over the steps of his Church, then nods at you and darts inside in terror.

A moment later a massive shape darkens the doorway of the Sanguine Church.

A veritable mountain of flesh, Servius Izar is an enormous, bald-headed monster of a man currently garbed in finely made clothes of different shades of red - the traditional garb of a Striga worshipper dressed for Flayday Mass.

This guy would be played by Vinnie Jones.

He regards Gorethirst, the dead body, and the puddle of vomit impassively.  He wears a cryptic, almost placid expression, as if to say "Do you realize who exactly you just fucked with?"  Despiet his passivity, however, his fists clench, turning bone-white at the knuckles.

Gorethirst - I am here to challenge you to a duel.  Tell the city, I will drain you dry in public view for any willing to watch. I do so on behalf of the Guild of Crimson Shadows.  Do you have anything to add human?

For a moment, Servius Izar says nothing at all, merely watching the leechkin, his arms crossed.  At last, he speaks simply, in a low, deep voice.

"You have defiled a holy place, here, spilt the sacred blood of one of the faithful.  You will be punished for your sins, parasite.  Name a time and place and I will be there."

He seethes with supressed rage.  His jaw cracks as he grinds his teeth.

Gorethirst - Two days hence at the gladiatorial pit. Tell anyone you wish not to see you slaughtered to avoid the place.

"Make the arrangements.  The faithful of Striga will watch me pulverize your flesh and break every bone in your body.  You will squeal for mercy before the end.  Two days, leech, and you will burn in the blackest of Hells."

* Gorethirst mounts Corpsegobble and after circling once rides off towards the Guildhall of Crimson Shadows to inform them of the news, stopping by Tarim's place where Kaius and the ghul witch have breakfasted following Tarim's purchases.  They find Eareg Maar at the Guildhall on  business of his own.

* Eareg Maar is standing outside with an old rugged bird on his shoulder holding a crumpled note.

* Gorethirst nods a greeting towards the Ghul scavenger.

* Eareg Maar puffs on his simple wooden pipe.

You head into the Guildhall where the clerks do business with scavengers, buying and selling, organizing contracts, scrutinizing a map of the Slaughter-lands.  One of the guards notices the ghul, and Gorethirst.  He approaches the group.

* Eareg Maar idly heads in, puffing on his pipe and paying little attention to things around him while he examines the piece of parchment in his hands

"Hello, Gorethirst."  He turns to Eareg.  "Mr. Maar.  It's been awhile."

* Gorethirst nods in greeting.

* Eareg Maar looks up at Gorethirst.

* Eareg Maar gives a start.

Eareg Maar - Didn't see you, didn't your mother tell you its rude to surprise people like that

* Eareg Maar takes the pipe from his mouth and blows a smoke ring before looking at the guard

Gorethirst - I have never met my mother. Perhaps this is why I never learned that lesson.

"Anything I can report to Yesheleb?"

* Gorethirst hefts a heavy coin purse bulging with coin.

Gorethirst - Arrangements need to be made for a duel between myself and Servius Izar. Two days from now at the gladitorial pits. I will also like a bet of 600 obeloi to placed on my victory.

Eareg Maar - Yagg'¦

"Mm?"

* Eareg Maar tosses him the note.

Eareg Maar - Very funny.

"We just figured you would be keen to renew your partnership with us, Eareg."

Eareg Maar - Yeah about as keen as I would be to shoot myself.

* Eareg Maar grins.

* Eareg Maar looks sideways at the leech.

Gorethirst - Would you be willing to place a bet on my victory friend Eareg?

* Eareg Maar pulls a small pouch off his person and sits it on top of Gorethirst's bag.

Eareg Maar - Put me in for a hundred.

The guard, Yagg, scowls at Eareg, then turns to Gorethirst.  "I will pass on this information.  The arrangements will be made.  I place your bet with one of the officials."

Yagg collects other bets - two hundred from Kaius, one hundred from Tarim - and bows low.

"Eareg, may I remind you that you never actually left our Guild?  Your contract with us stands."

Eareg Maar - Yeah I know you old killjoy.  You should know how I feel about strange notes on my door, though.

"May I suggest you pay Cräen a visit?  She will take care of getting you a new Guild Mark."

Eareg Maar - Bah.

* Eareg Maar waves him off and heads to find Cräen.

"We just wanted to get your attention, Eareg!  Just a playful joke."

* Eareg Maar shouts back at him - You still need to work on your humour, then!

* Eareg Maar heads off

Cräen's workroom is meticulously kept, every grimoire and scroll-case alphabetically labelled, every oddity and artefact carefully stored: a bronze skull on insect legs, a grotesquely carven breastplate, a crossbow of carved bone, a black, mummified heart.

In the center of the large room is an imposing cage with glyph-graven bars, containing a whimpering, eyeless thing with bone blades jutting from its limbs and a line of jagged spines down its back and tail.  It cringes, tasting the air with a cluster of tentacles and clattering its sword-like arms against the bars, while Cräen - a stern albino woman dressed all in black - mutters an incantation and flicks her wrist.  An effervescent serpent materializes and slithers through the bars until it hits the monstrosity, which squeals in pain or obscene pleasure as the eldritch energy courses through it body.  Cräen mutters something under her breath and scribbles down notes in a thick, leatherbound tome.

* Eareg Maar stands in the doorway idly watching, smoke streaming slowly from his mouth

Cräen is actually a former (human) slave of the lilix who escaped the dungeons of the Gynocracy using self-taught witchcraft gleaned from stolen spiderfolk scriptures.  She glances up at the group, recognizing Eareg.

Eareg Maar - Someone said I needed to come pay you to jab eldritch pins in me.

"I see you've returned Eareg... glad you survived the pits.  I suppose they confiscated your Guild Mark?"

Eareg Maar - Obviously... no fun letting me slip through the walls after all.

"Typical.  That tattoo would be thousands of obeloi in a glyph parlour, you know."

Eareg Maar - You know the problem with you people is you don't have a sense of humour.

* Eareg Maar saunters in and pulls up a chair.

She looks up at the rest of the group.  "And who are your friends?"

Eareg Maar - Just some acquaintances.  Fellows trying to make a living like me.

She makes a slightly derisive sound and heads over to introduce herself to the rest of the group

* Tarim cocks his head in a light bow.

Tarim - Greetings.

She notices Tarim's tattoos and nods admiringly.

"Whose work is this?  It's very nice."

Tarim - Partly my own, partly other artists.

"You have a talent, sir.  If you ever want to swap spells sometime, let me know."

* Gorethirst nods in greeting.

She nods back at the leechkin.

* Kaius Alexander raises his visor and observes the lilix silently

She looks over to Kaius and smiles slightly.

"Well, Eareg, I'd be happy to give you a new Mark... if you do me a little favor, first.  After all, our coffers aren't bottomless."

Eareg Maar - Go on.

"Scavengers returning from a run in the Firesong Marches to the far south have returned with reports of a city previously hidden beneath the sand that seems to have been uncovered by a recent sandstorm.  If my research is correct - and it always is - this city is none other than Chymalea, City of Creeping Flesh, from whence the Poxbringers unleashed their virulent sicknesses, fashioned using certain warped arcane sciences."

* Tarim idly observes the tentacled creature in the cage, noting that it's probably one of the oneiroi, spawn of the Suppuration, if legends are to be believed.

"There are many fell relics said to have been lost when the city was buried in the last aeon, not the least of which is the legendary sword called the Festerblade - a powerful weapon said to have been forged in demon-conjured fires and tempered in plague-tainted blood.  It is said that any wounded by the Festerblade is consumed within moments by a wasting corruption.  Whether or not the stories are true, the weapon would be valuable, and intriguing to study.

"Unfortunately, the House of Iridescent Angles have already beaten us to Chymalea and are even now returning, laden with loot from the city.  How they learned of the city's re-emergence so quickly I do not know - they have many mysterious resources at their disposal.  Whatever the case, I want you to get the Festerblade from them, before they get it back to the Palace of Unlikely Doors.

"A scout last saw the caravan perhaps three days away, coming by the Weeping Way.  How you get the sword back is up to you, but I wouldn't suggest open attack unless you have well-armed companions and a favourable ambush spot; whatever the case, make sure that they don't know the Crimson Shadows were behind the theft, or we'll have a full-blown House-War on our hands."

Eareg Maar - You should know I don't steal from other scavengers, I don't care what the guild feels about it but I at least follow the code.

She throws her hands up in the air.  "Gods!  I should have known you'd be difficult."

* Eareg Maar leans back in the chair.

Eareg Maar - look you want to go beating up scavengers and stealing their rent money I don't care, I can't stop you.  But if you want me to do something it better involve scavenging, I'm the best damned scavenger you guys have and you know it... don't waste my time and my talents.

"Very well.  I can see you're going to be absolutely impossible about this.  Perhaps you can find me something else in the damned City of Creeping Flesh, something the Angles left behind."

Eareg Maar - If there's something to find I'll find it.

"It'll be a Hell of a lot more leg-work on your part, of course, and there won't be any guarentees, but you bring me one of the Poxbringers' relics - something of value, mind - and I'll get you a new Mark."

* Eareg Maar tips his hat.

Eareg Maar - See, we can be reasonable.

* Eareg Maar picks up a map from the workroom table and rolls it up.

* Eareg Maar gets up and walks for the door.

Eareg Maar - I'll see you around.

* Gorethirst leaves the room following Eareg towards the exit.

She curses under her breath and makes to turn back to her study of the creature.  

"I'm serious about comparing notes, by the way," she says to Tarim.  "Drop by anytime."

Tarim - I will think about it.

Kaius Alexander - A pity Eareg deigned not to serve his guild. It seems he gives up a valuable artefact.

* Kaius Alexander glances sidelong at the woman.

Kaius Alexander - Too bad.

Cräen notices the Insomnolent's glance.

"You wouldn't be interested in fulfilling that contract, now would you, sir?"

Kaius Alexander - It is a possibility. What are you offering me?

Tarim - I might be interested as well.

"Well, there's any number of possibilities.  Membership in the Crimson Shadows, if you'd want it; I'm a skilled tattooist, and can offer you all manner of glyphs and sigils to wear on your skin.  And then there's always cash."

"For the Festerblade I can offer you four thousand total.  I sight better than what you'd get in the Curio Bazaars for it, I assure you."

Kaius Alexander - Well, now that is an offer I am not like to refuse.  I will retrieve this artefact for you.

Tarim - You may count me in as well.

"I am glad your morals are a touch... more flexible than those of the intractable Eareg."

Kaius Alexander - The codes of scavangers are of no interest to me. My needs are like to increase soon, and I must prepare myself.

"It's a deal, then.  Payment in cash or in glyphs of equivalent value.  I suggest you make haste - if the Angles reach the city with the artefact you'll have a lot harder time retrieving it."

* Kaius shakes Cräen's hand.

* Tarim nods and leaves the room to meet up with Eareg and Gorethirst.

Tarim - Do you know anything about this city, Eareg?

Eareg Maar - Not any more than the local lore tellers could tell you, save its location now.

* Eareg Maar pockets the map.

Gorethirst - As you say then Eareg.

Tarim - We should purchase provisions before we leave for the eyrie.

* Gorethirst pausing as if in thought, turns around walks back into Cräen's room

* Eareg Maar examines the unused map he plucked of Cräen's table.

Cräen looks up at Gorethirst - she's still speaking with Kaius.

* Gorethirst reaches into his pack sack and pulls out Quentin's signet ring.

* Eareg Maar is standing out in a corner of the main hall, smoking his pipe and examining the map.

The map shows the location of the City of Creeping Flesh is in the midst of the Firesong Marches, beyond the Gland river but well north of Marainein.

Gorethirst - Can you tell me anything about this?

Cräen squints at the ring.  "Looks like a signet ring of the Magisters of Skein.  Where did you get this?"

Gorethirst - Off of a dead creature. He turned to dust when he was killed.

She nods.  "Some kind of grave-spawn.  Eidolon, most like, if he was masquerading as a Magister.  It doesn't seem to be hexed - but it might be useful, in certain sticky situations.  I'd keep hold of it."

* Gorethirst nods

Gorethirst - Have you heard of something called the Fortress of the Umbral Overlord?

"Fortress of the Umbral Overlord... I think that's one of the strongholds of the ancient Witch-Lords.  I'd try the Vellum Citadel if I were you.  Look for 'Witch-Lords of the Desiccation,' by Quovann Graythorn."

Gorethirst - The Vellum Citadel it is. Thank you Cräen.

* Gorethirst leaves and heads towards the group.

* Kaius Alexander inclines his head to Cräen and leaves the room.

You head out into the Bazaars.  Detritus!, the pawn shop, is not far from here, but you can always search out a different merchant if you prefer.

 You head into the cluttered shop.  The heavily muscled Lorgiss greets you.

"Back again, eh?"

* Tarim looks around to see if he notices anything interesting that wasn't there last time.

Some of the items the group sold before are now on prominent display.

Kaius Alexander - Yes. I wish to part with this ...sword.

* Kaius Alexander unlimbers the khopesh.

Kaius Alexander - A curious weapon. Vivisectionist.

Lorgiss picks it up, mutters a quick hex and gently caresses the blade.

"It's got a pretty powerful bewitchment.  Nasty thing.  Looks like Erebh make.  How much you looking to get for this?"

* Kaius Alexander raises a hand to his chin and thinks.

* Gorethirst wanders over to look at the giant Ur-Bone sword again.

The sword is truly enormous, the sort of thing only a being larger than a normal human might wield without ensorcelled strength.

Gorethirst - Who did you say this sword belonged too? Some giant warlord?

"Yeah, Magroth the Invincible, or some shit.  It's said he killed a Gorgefly with that thing."

Gorethirst - Ah, quite the feat.

"Well, those're the legends, anyway.  Like I said before, ten thousand obeloi and its yours.  Not a bone less."

* Gorethirst shakes its head.

Gorethirst - Not this time.

* Kaius Alexander considers for a long time while the leechkin and the ghul shopkeep chat.

Kaius Alexander - Nine hundred obeloi.

Lorgiss grins.  "Done and done!"  He says.

* Kaius Alexander inclines his head.[/ic]

[Steerpike]

[ic=Couplets]*Later that night, Tarim sits in his study in contemplation, leafing through his notes and preparing his spells for the next day.

The long hours of tedious parsing and translation of your old journal - the object so coveted and feared by the priesthood of Marianein - have at last been fruitful.  You have cracked one of the more nonsensical chapter's esoteric ciphers and decoded the formulae for a hex, but in addition you have discovered a cryptic poem and a description of bizarre rites and occult precepts accompanying it.  The poem was coded and written in a smattering of different tongues to further obfuscate it.  

Here is the poem, translated into plain Shambles:

To accelerate apotheosis,

Imbibe the juice of divine necrosis;

Consume a demon's rancid tissues;

Into your veins a daeva's blood transfuse.

Damnation's cream and milk of shadow,

Broth of bone and flesh like tallow,

Within a cauldron boil and simmer;

Quaff two drops of the resulting tincture.

You might expect such torturous verse from the author of 'The Demon's Lover'.  Clearly your past self was no poet - though which rhyme is worse, "tissues" and "transfuse" or "simmer" and "tincture," you can't decide.  The complicated alchemical instructions and arcane rites that supplement this (barely) rhyming doggerel, however, are the work of a (mad) genius.  They seem imply that though the rituals described would hardly catapult the drinker to divinity  - whatever exactly that consitutes - they would infuse them with some small measure of deific essence, the germ of godhood.  This seems to be some intermediate phase of your past self's tangled scheme of ascension.[/ic]

[LD]

Thanks for posting up the glossary of places!

[Steerpike]

August 25th, 2010 (extra session, originally for Kaius):

[ic=Codes]In Kaius' chambers, Kaius Alexander and Tarim consider their plan to retrieve the Festerblade.  They agree that mercenary assistance may be wise, and that a guide will be necessary.

Kaius guesses that the Row will have cheap muscle, and they can probably find scavengers in various drinking establishments throughout the city.  Tarim has seen plenty of grave-spawn bravoes hanging around the cheaper parts of Worm-Hive at night, and there are graftpunk cleavers who can be found in Hexwarren.

The pair decide that despite Eareg's protestations to Cräen's request, he is their best possibility to acquire knowledge of the surrounding terrain.  They resolve to pay the ghul scavenger a visit (heaving learned of his cave outside the city recently) under the pretence of learning more about the region round Macellaria, since the group will soon depart for the journey to Shan-Szut, eyrie of the jatayi.

* Tarim and Kaius heads to Ereg's cave outside the city, beyond the Butcher's Gate.

An owl sits over the cave entrance.  It hoots at your approach.

* Tarim waves at the owl and approaches the entrance.

You push aside the bushes that cover a notched wooden door.

Tarim - This must be the place. Can't be too many caves round here with doors on them.

* Kaius Alexander stares at Tarim silently.

* Tarim knocks on the door.

Eraeg, you awake from another dream of flames and amorphous figures to the sound of knocking  at the door.

* Eareg Maar gets up and heads for the door, cautiously opening it

Tarim - Good day, Eareg.

Eareg Maar - Tarim, Kaius! What are you two doing here?

Fangs (whispering) - This might be delicate, considering his reaction to the witch's request.

* Kaius Alexander raises his visor.

Tarim - We are lacking knowledge of the surrounding lands, and couldn't think of anyone better to help there than you.

Eareg Maar - Hmm, sure... come on in.

* Eareg Maar waves them into the cave.

* Tarim follows, curious of the place.

Eareg, Tarim's request seems innocent enough - after all, you are going to be journeying together soon, and its only natural a foreigner wouldn't know much about the surrounding region.

Eareg Maar - Where about are you heading?

Tarim - Not the most usual kind of home. I guess you don't have to pay rent here?

* Eareg Maar smiles at that.

Tarim - How well do you know the land between here and the Firesong Marches?

Eareg Maar - Better than most.

Tarim - I only passed through there once myself, didn't get to see much. And that was a few years ago

Eareg Maar - I've pulled several valuable items out of that area over the years.

Tarim - Do you have good maps of the area then?

* Eareg Maar pulls the map he nabbed from the guild witch out of his pocket.

* Eareg Maar unfolds it and examines it a bit before smiling.

Eareg Maar - Yes I think I can take you where you need going.

* Eareg Maar grins like he's figured something out.

* Kaius Alexander narrows his eyes.

* Tarim bends forward to study the map.

Eareg Maar - Firesong Marches out of the Eel's Gate, correct?

Tarim - That's right.

Eareg Maar - Well I can do that, and I won't even charge though you two still will want to get your own food and drink for the trip.  I need to stretch my legs a bit anyways.

Tarim - We're not going all the way to the Marches though.

Eareg Maar - Oh I imagine you aren't.  But nevermind that, we best be getting ready

* Eareg Maar starts packing items away in a rough travel pack.

Tarim - We'll need some hired muscle, for added security.  Figures that we'll find some candidates loitering in the city's many drinking holes.

Eareg Maar - If you're looking for hired muscle I might suggest the slums outside the butchers gate, you're both familiar with there... we can also try the Skin Markets but that's likely to be a bit more expensive.

Tarim - It's up to Kaius to hire them. I regrettably am a bit low on funds at the moment. New hexes don't come cheap.

Eareg Maar - Well my fellow walking tincan... what are your thoughts?

*Kaius grunts noncommittally.

'¦

The Weeping Way stretches into the distance from the Butcher's Gate, into the ragged, storm-haunted desert.  One of the Watchdogs sits beside the gate, gnawing an enormous bone from gods only know what.  Here a rough shanty-town of second-rate curio dealers, water salesmen, and seedy alehouses has sprung up, clinging to the sides of the ancient highway.

A grafted bravo with a mantid arm grafted to his torso and a pair of enormous dust-goggles leans against a building wall just oustide the gate, nonchalant, while a cestoid demonstrates its fighting abilities, performing tricks with various knives, swords, and hatchets using its plethora of chitinous arms.  Various scavengers - ragtag men and women with dusty clothes - mill in and out of the bars.

* Mr. Carver saunters out of the Butcher's Gate, twirling a knife absently'¦

* Kaius Alexander points at the man by the gate.

Kaius Alexander - You. Graftee. You will work for me. I will pay you well. Two days, no more.

The goggle-clad fleshy swaggers up to Kaius.

"What's the job?"

Kaius Alexander - Retrieval and security.

* Tarim is walking along the group, skimming through his notes. He's clearly content to leave the hiring business to Kaius.

"Fifty obeloi sound fair?"

Kaius Alexander - Done. But you will provide your own rations.

* Eareg Maar is walking by Tarim with his old owl perched on a shoulder.

"Sure thing.  I'll be back momentarily.  Name's Garth.  What's yours?"

Kaius Alexander - I am Kaius Alexander.

"Good to meet you.  No nonesense, no fuss, all business - I like that."

Garth disappears into a cheap inn and returns with a pack.

"Ready when you are boss."

* Kaius Alexander scans the area for other likely candidates.

Kaius Alexander - We will leave shortly. I wish to hire one more.

The cestoid continues its demonstration with vigor.

* Kaius Alexander approaches the cestoid, while giving a sidelong glance to Mr. Carver

* Mr. Carver nods at Kauis.

Kaius Alexander - Cestoid. You will work for me. Two days, 40 obeloi, no questions.

The cestoid scrawls a single word on a small chalkboard, "Agreed."

* Kaius Alexander inclines his head to the Cestoid.

It utters some garbled and hideous in the Cestoid tongue, releases a heady pheromone scent.

Kaius Alexander - Are you prepared to go, then?

It scribbles, "Anytime."

Tarim - Why, greetings Mr... Carver, wasn't it?  It seems that we keep running into each other

Mr. Carver - Indeed. Kaius was it?  I seem to have run into all of my fellow pit-fighters at some time or another.

* Mr. Carver extends a hand.

Tarim - Ah, I am Tarim. Kaius is our armoured friend here - *points to Kaius.*

Mr. Carver - Ah, sorry, my apologies.   I'm not good with faces. They tend to change too often in my world .

* Mr. Carver smiles, revealing his filed teeth.

Tarim - No offence taken.

Mr. Carver - I'm glad. So, why are you hanging out at the Butcher's gate?

Tarim - We're on to a well-paying job. If you'd be interested, talk to Kaius about it. I on my part would welcome your assistance.

Mr. Carver - Well, one can always use some extra coin.

* Mr. Carver walks up to Kaius and knocks the pommel of the knife against the back of his breastplate

* Kaius Alexander half turns, his face inscrutable beneath his visor.

Mr. Carver - I believe we have met before?

Kaius Alexander - We have.

Mr. Carver - Our common associate tells me there might be a job opening available?

Kaius Alexander - There is. We are retrieving a certain object.

Mr. Carver - Ah, for yourself or a third party?

Kaius Alexander - For another.

Mr. Carver - Well, I'm intrigued. Count me in.

Kaius Alexander - Our employer will no doubt see fit to pay you handsomely for your assistance.

Mr. Carver - I do hope so, otherwise there is not much reason to risk my neck after all.  How long will we be gone?

Tarim - Looks like we have a fairly strong band, now.

Kaius Alexander - We will be gone two days.

Mr. Carver - Hmm should probably get some bare necessities for the journey.

Kaius Alexander - Then do so. We leave within the hour.

Tarim - Meet us on the Eel's Gate, then.

Mr. Carver - The Eel's? I'll meet you there in an hour.

An hour later, at the Eels' Gate, the group is gathered - Tarim, Kaius, Eareg, Mr. Carver, Garth, and the nameless cestoid mercenary.

A road winds through the rough suburb and down into the waste, towards the southern swamps.  In the distance you can see the glitter of the Tendril River and the brown smear of the town beside it.

Tarim - Everyone ready? Let us be on our way then.

Mr. Carver - As ready as can be.

Kaius Alexander - The line your morals draw is very sharp and sudden, is it not, Eareg?

* Kaius Alexander says as he walks beside him.

* Eareg Maar hefts his pack on his back, sliding Meteor into a snug carrying slot on the side.

Eareg Maar - Morals has nothing to do with the sword... yes I believe that's what you're after correct?

Kaius Alexander - You guess well.  As I had suspected.

Eareg Maar - Scavengers have an unwritten code though and those who flaunt it rarely live long.  You however are not scavengers, I won't stop you from stealing it, I will have no part in the actual theft though, I am just a guide.

* Kaius Alexander nods at Eareg.

Tarim - We will not ask you to aid us in any battle with them.  It is well enough that you show us the way

Mr. Carver - So, Kauis, what exactly are we aiming to acquire?

Kaius Alexander - Mr. Carver, as Eareg says, we are after a blade.

Mr. Carver - I reckon this is not a simple piece of iron?

Kaius Alexander - No, it is not, Mr. Carver. An ancient and powerful weapon by all accounts.

Mr. Carver - Hmm, a pity we can't keep it then.  Oh well, it's probably a bit too big for me anyway.

Eareg Maar - Well then shall we be off.  I know of an abandoned town that we can spend the night at, but if we want to make it there we must be moving.

Kaius Alexander - That should suffice, Eareg. We proceed.

Mr. Carver - And from what I've heard a guide will do us far more good in the Slaughter-lands than an extra Cleaver would. I'm glad you are willing to lead us Eareg.

* Eareg Maar leads them down the road.[/ic]

[Steerpike]

August 25th, 2010 continued:

[ic="Ghost" Town]You set out into the barren emptiness of the waste.  The sky begins to gradually darken, turning bruise purple, shot through the red from the setting sun.  Eareg leads the party by secret trails and paths, avoiding the rougher parts of the badlands, the roads scavengers use  for their return to Macellaria.

After hours of walking, you glimpse some kind of settlement up ahead, though it looks uninhabited - perhaps a ghost-town or ruin.

* Eareg Maar sniffs the air a bit.

Eareg Maar - Yes, this is the place.  Used to be a settlement till some eldritch experiement went wrong, don't mind the locals.

Kaius Alexander - The locals?

* Eareg Maar continues on into the town.

Whatever weapon decimated this small ruin it was not of mundane origin.  Instead of blackened walls and scorched skeletons the remnants of this town rustle with uncanny animation.  Fused into the walls and floors are body parts - limbs, eyes, mouths, sometimes even the occasional torso or whole head.

This misshapen mass clutch and gibber and blink with constant motion, permanently integrated into the ruin's shattered architecture, mingling perfectly with the smooth stone.  Whether these bodily additions are the remains of the folk who once dwelt in the town or the occult conjurations of some sinister hex you cannot tell.

Kaius Alexander - I see.

*The cestoid hisses.

*Garth mutters under his breath.

Eareg Maar - They won't bother you; at least they've never bothered me any time I came here.

* Mr. Carver drags his knife across one of the exposed limbs, trying to see if they still hold blood.

Kaius Alexander - Unsightly, yes. Pay it no mind.

The limb bleeds sure enough.  One of the mouths whimpers in pain.

Tarim - How curious.

* Eareg Maar grabs Mr. Carver by the scruff of the neck and tosses him to the ground.

Eareg Maar - Please don't harass the eldritch abominations!

* Mr. Carver spits at the ground while getting up, and brushes dust off his coat.

Kaius Alexander - Listen to our guide, Mr. Carver. His knowledge exceeds ours.

* Eareg Maar drops his pack on the ground inside a crumbling house with three walls and a hole filled roof.

Eareg Maar - It should be safe enough here for the night.

*Garth squints at the ruins with a look of horrified fascination.

* Kaius Alexander nods.

Mr. Carver - Well, I'll admit, it is sound advice. Haven't been out here before. Not this far.

* Kaius Alexander checks the rounds in his revolver before setting out his bedroll.

Mr. Carver - Are we planning an ambush now?

Tarim - It does look like these bits and pieces have been very stuck for long. Doubt they'll be going anywhere anytime soon.

Kaius Alexander - I will take the first and second watches.  I require little rest.

Eareg Maar - Very well, just don't go wandering around - the town itself is harmless, there is wildlife in these lands that is less so.  Wake me after your watches, I'll take the third.

Kaius Alexander - Very well.

Mr. Carver - I have keen sight, but of course the darkness will quickly take care of that. Could take a morning watch if that helps.

* Eareg Maar rolls out a bedroll and goes to sleep, tired from the long walk.

Tarim - We should take care not to draw attention to ourselves. Our target should be drawing near by now.

Kaius Alexander - Of course. Caution is paramount. No fire.

It is difficult to sleep with the constant susurrus of the buildings.  Eventually, however, those trying to sleep manage it.

* Tarim sets his bedroll in a reasonably comfortable-looking corner.

* Eareg Maar sleeps like a log, unbothered by the noise.

* Mr. Carver squats up against a wall, resting with his eyes closed.

Mr. Carver, a pair of eyes fused to the wall looks down at you as you drift off - most disconcerting.

Kaius, over the murmur of voices you think you make out the sound of approaching footsteps, and other voices'¦

* Kaius Alexander draws his sword silently and steps back into the building.

* Kaius Alexander leans down and gently shakes Eareg.

* Eareg Maar sits up.

Eareg Maar - *whispered* what is it.

* Kaius Alexander puts a finger to his lips.

Kaius Alexander - There are men about. I am certain.  I do not think they know we are here.

* Eareg Maar gets out of his bedroll and heads to the entrance to the building, listening

You can definitely hear approaching footsteps, voices that don't sound like the town.

Eareg Maar - *whispered* Wake the others quietly.

* Eareg Maar pulls meteor out of his pack

* Kaius Alexander nods and wakes Carver, Tarim and the others.

Mr. Carver - They are here?

* Kaius Alexander motions for silence.

Kaius Alexander - Someone is here. We shall observe.

* Eareg Maar peaks out into the darkness.

* Tarim awakens without motion, his gem-set eyes flashing.

A window looks out into the main street of the town here.  Four humanoid figures and one larger creature are moving about in the street.  The group are eclectic: a human, a hagman, a mantid, a ghul.

Hovering alongside them is a sand-ray, one of the enormous batoid beings the zerda call "shaik-toruch," though this specimen appears to be a juvenile, based on its smaller size.  Normally these gentle beasts are accompanied by swarms of malignant, haematophagic insects known as goreflies which dwell in organic chambers inside the levitating sand-rays; however, this beast appears to have been thoroughly domesticated and has doubtless had its goreflies purged.  It follows the party of scavengers with docile obedience, led by a heavy chain firmly anchored to its scaly flesh.  Numerous bags, waterskins, and equipment have been roped onto the creature's back.

Eareg Maar - I doubt this is the group you seek, too small.  Possibly scavengers.

Tarim - *whispering* If they have not noticed us, we better lay low

Tarim, Mr. Carver, you glimpse a medallion round the neck of one scavenger - the mobius sigil of the Iridescent Angles!

Tarim - *whisper* I see the house insignia... it's the Angles.

Kaius Alexander - Do they normally travel in such small numbers, Eareg?

Eareg Maar - I doubt this is all of them, just too small.

Kaius Alexander - We should deal with them regardless. Fewer to bar our way or pursue.

Mr. Carver - How many are we planning on ambushing?

The leader seems to be the human: a pale man with pronounced blackish veins and tiny bloodshot eyes, distinguished by the pulsating eldritch symbiont latched onto his left arm - a rippling, subcutaneous presence that squirms beneath his flesh, causing the muscles of his left arm to bulge and swell and staining his skin an ugly bluish-black.  Sparks of dark, purplish energy flicker between the warped hand's clawed fingertips, distorting the surrounding air with an oily arcane aura.  There's a curved sword strapped to the man's back.

You hear him say "Looks like a good place to camp."

* Mr. Carver looks to Tarim.

Mr. Carver - What is that?

* Eareg Maar salutes the group and slips out the "door" to get out of the way of the fighting

* Mr. Carver turns to Kaius.

Mr. Carver - Maybe we should wait for them to let their guard down. The odds are in our favour, but not vastly so.

Kaius Alexander - Yes, I agree.

*Tarim scrutinizes the arcane aura.

It's diabolic in nature, for sure - a demoniac symbiont, a soul-tinker's work.  They appear to be heading off to the northeast corner of the town.

Tarim - Looks like some kind of diabolism.

Kaius Alexander - Let us wait an hour. Then we shall scout their position.

Mr. Carver - nasty piece of work.  A witch then?

Tarim - Possibly.  Or it could just be an implant

Mr. Carver - Hmm, I prefer it when things attached to me are under my own control.  I'll volunteer to scout.

Kaius Alexander - You are well suited to the work, aren't you, Mr. Carver?

The scavengers seem to be holed up in an old inn, three stories in height, one of the most intact buildings in town.  Limbs flail from the eaves; eyes peer from the window-sills.  A mouth over the door spouts a steady stream of horrific curses.

Mr. Carver - I believe I am.  After all I have done it before and I'm still alive and breathing.

*Carver attempts to enter the building stealithy.

Carver, one of the arms snatches at your ankle as you enter and you trip, nearly falling.  You grunt involuntarily.

You are just inside, in the inn's common room.  The sand-ray is in the stables; the others must be upstairs.

Mr. Carver - (whisper to myself) gleet

*Mr. Carver looks around for a place to hole up, in case anybody investigate - hust a dark nook or something.

You quickly find a hiding-place in the shadows as a hagman slithers down the stairs.
She is constantly moistened by some kind of humming arcane resonance.  A talisman hangs about her neck, a fetish of bone and fur, in addition to the mobius sigil of the Iridescent Angles.  Her dreadlocks are beaded and tipped with shrunken heads and strange gewgaws; she carries a heavy bone knife and a flintlock.

* Mr. Carver holds his breath and crouches behind an overturned table with a human face melded to it.

The hagman mutters some incantation to herself.  There is a brief flash of light, then darkness again.  She slithers outside  Mr. Carver, you seem to have escaped detection for now'¦

Kaius Alexander - Hmm. Shall we pick this one off? Any clever tricks, Tarim?

Tarim - Nothing that would be silent enough.

Kaius Alexander - Well then. I suppose we'll have to do it more conventionally.

* Mr. Carver quickly sneaks up the stairs with the hagman distracted.

Kaius Alexander - Garth, Cestoid. Shall we end this one?

"Whatever you want, boss," Garth says.

The cestoid raises its blades.

Kaius Alexander - Then let us be quick and quiet.

Mr. Carver, you creep up the stairs into a corridor aswarm with random bits and pieces of the former citizens (or whatever the melded denizens are). One door is ajar; a human face is merged with the wood.

*Mr. Carver peek through.

The human, ghul, and mantid are slumbering here, their gear strewn about the chamber.  Their weapons are all piled next to their respective bedrolls.

* Tarim loads his blunderbuss pistol.

Kaius Alexander - Do not be careless with that, Tarim. Only use it if necessary.

* Kaius Alexander bends down and leaves his shield just inside the door of the building.

Tarim - Perhaps it would be better to wait for Mr. Carver's return? If we wake up the place we might put him in danger.

Kaius Alexander - Possible. But would you have this one come up behind him?

Tarim - Strike only if it's about to return to the building, then

*Mr. Carver sneaks up and moves their weapons away from their sides.

The hagmen enters the stables.

Kaius Alexander - I suppose we could at least wait that long.

Tarim - Hmm.  We could sneak to the stable door and surprise it when it comes out?

Kaius Alexander - Yes. Let's go.

Tarim - Mercenaries, follow as quietly as you can.

The cestoid presses itself low.  Garth creeps along as best he can.

Kaius tries to creep along quietly, but his armour clanks obtrusively.

The hagman appears at the door of the stable, pistol ready.

* Meanwhile, Mr. Carver plunges his knife into the sleeping human's neck, expertly slitting the man's throat.  There is a spurt of blood a the fellow dies, but Carver's work is deft and silent.

The human's bruise-black left arm continues to quiver after its owner dies.  With a sickly wrenching sound the limb tears itself free of the dead huamn's socket and begins to drag itself along by its fingertips.

Mr. Carver - Oh no you don't.

* Eareg Maar chuckles to himself at Kaius trying to be quiet.

* Tarim quickly falls back, behind the mercenaries.

The cestoid hurls a knife at the hagman.  The blade strikes the hagman's arm, causing her to cry out in pain.

* Tarim grabs a flesh-melter from his belt and hurls it at the hagman.

The hagman shrieks as the acid burns her flesh.

* Mr. Carver grabs the demoniac arm!  It crackles with fell energy, electrocuting the grafted warrior.

The hagman fires off a shot at Tarim, but the bullet goes wide.

Upstairs, The mantid and ghul wake up very alarmed and confused and reach for weapons that aren't there.

*With a swift, efficient blow, Kaius Alexander thrusts his blade through the hagman's heart.  She gasps and slumps liflessly to the ground, coils twitching in her death throes.

* Eareg Maar winces when he watches Kaius skewer the hagman.

* Kaius Alexander flicks his sword, removing the blood.

Tarim - Garth, enter the house!  Carver may need assistance.

Eareg Maar - *whispered to self* Well that was painful.

*Garth (who has drawn a blade) rushes into the inn.

*The cestoid follows him.

* Tarim follows in behind the mercs.

You enter the common room, atwitch with agitated former townsfolk, or whatever the Hell these things are.  There's a stairway to one side.

Tarim - Everyone, go up

Upstairs, the mantid scrambles up and, seeing his weapons, darts for them and picks up a pair of revolvers.

*Mr. Carver release his hold on the arm and stabs the ghul.  The arm lands on its fingertips.  He springs towards the ghul but the grave-spawn darts aside deftly.

*Kaius Alexander spots Eareg perched on the roof, chuckling to himself and smoking his pipe.

* Kaius Alexander looks at Eareg and salutes with his still bloody sword before.

* Eareg Maar salutes back.

*Mr. Carver plunges the Agony Knife into the ghul's chest just as the grave-spawn begins chanting an incantation.

A blasphemous hex singes the ghul's tongue as he perseveres with his witchcraft despite the knife now protruding from his chest.  The grave-spawn points two fingers towards Mr. Carver, who feels a burning sensation in his eyes, following by a building tension.  Both the sizzling pain and the tension build until Mr. Carver's eyes explode in their sockets, bursting in a spray of arcane acid and humours, running down the man's cheeks like broken eggs.

* Mr. Carver screams in agony, clawing at his burned-out eye sockets with his hands.

Meanwhile, the arm scuttles towards the window.  It tries and fails to scamper outside, clawing at the windowsill.

The cestoid moves forwards and attacks the mantid.  The mantid grunts as the cestoid slashes it with a short sword.

* Tarim storms in after the nameless cestoid merc, takes a quick look around, and aims a Hellfire Bomb at the demon-possessed arm.  The bomb breaks and the arm is singed and set alight by the spray.  It falls to the ground an begins to twitch as alchemical flames consume it.

The mantid opens fire on the cestoid point blank, emptying lead into the creature's body.  The worm squeals hideously.

* Tarim only now notices that Carver's ead is missing it's eyes

*Screaming in agony, Mr. Carver barrels into the ghul who pushes him aside, flailing.  The Agony Knife is still in the ghul's chest.

* Tarim curses, cacophonous words in some demoniac tongue escaping his lips.

*Kaius Alexander leaps over the cestoid, blade raised.  He decapitates the mantid with a single swipe.

*Garth approaches the ghul and finishes the witch off easily..

* Kaius Alexander flicks the blood of his sword again and sheathes it

The flaming demon-possessed arm still flails on the floor.

* Mr. Carver crawls around on the floor on his knees, searching for his lost knife.

Tarim - What happened to your eyes?

* Kaius Alexander goes over to Carver and puts a hand on his shoulder.

Kaius Alexander - Carver.. your eyes'¦ I am sorry. I will do what I can to help you.. replace them as you see fit.

*Garth plucks the knife from the ghul's corpse and puts it in Carver's hands.

* Mr. Carver sits down panting

Mr. Carver - Gleet... I can't see anything.  Did we get them all?

Kaius Alexander - Yes, we did.

As the arm continues to twitch, it sets the inn alight.  Flames are spreading from the windowsill, blacken the floor.

Tarim - FIRE!

* Kaius Alexander notices the blaze

There is a smell of roasting flesh as the body-parts integrated into the structure catch fire.

* Mr. Carver looks up enquiringly with ocular voids

Kaius Alexander - Grab their items, quickly, we must get out, Garth, help me with Carver.

*Garth offers Carver a shoulder.

* Mr. Carver stumbles to his feet
*Kaius Alexander takes the human's sword -  a two-handed curved blade, quite heavy.

* Mr. Carver lets Garth lead the way.

* Tarim grabs the ghul's grimoire and makes for the exit.

*The cestoid grabs some items.

The fire is starting to spread.  Eareg, outside, you smell smoke.  Meteor seems to whisper, cooing with pleasure'¦

*Kaius Alexander grabs the human's grimoire, too, and hurry out of the building with everyone else.

Mr. Carver - I can hear flames...

* Eareg Maar drops off the roof, landing in a crouch before heading over.

The group meets Eareg Maar outside while the flames consume the inn.  They will soon spread to the other buildings too.  The mouths sutured to the building are screaming hideously.

Kaius Alexander - Cestoid. Garth. You both fought well. A 12 obeloi bonus for your good work.. and your silence about this venture.

*Garth nods, shaken.  The cestoid hisses an assent.

Tarim - They're all dead but Carver lost his eyes somehow.

The juvenile shaik-toruk in the stables squeals and thrashes.

Mr. Carver - I think I was hexed... At least that seems to be the only logical explanation for it.

Tarim - We better save the creature.

* Eareg Maar looks at the flames

Eareg Maar - Well you burned down a ghost town... guess that's a new record.  Come on let's pack up and get out of here I know somewhere nearby that we can rest for a few.

* Eareg Maar heads over to grab his pack.

Mr. Carver - I could use some rest, yes.

*Kaius Alexander fetches his shield.

* Eareg Maar whistles and an old mangy owl swoops down off a nearby roof, zipping over the group before disappearing into the night.

*Tarim throws open the stable doors, letting the sand-ray loose.  Various bags are evident on the floor.

Tarim - Calm down, damned beast!

* Kaius Alexander grabs the bags quickly as the stable begins to burn

The fire spreads with shocking rapidity.  A horrendous chorus of screams fills the air as the town begins to burn.

Tarim - Is the sword in there?

Kaius Alexander - Let's hope the sword is the one I'm carrying

Tarim - Let me see that blade you got, Kaius.

* Kaius Alexander holds the sword out for Tarim
.
* Tarim examines the weapon carefully.

The blade is carved with greenish glyphs.  It's clearly hexed, and the glyphs signify some kind of putrefying bewitchment.  The sword is very old, but you can't place its exact era

Kaius Alexander - Is it the blade we seek, Tarim?

Tarim - Well, it's got witchery on it, at the least.  Might not be the one though.  A real antiquary piece. And potent one.

Kaius Alexander - Perhaps it is the blade we have sought, then.  Craen will have to be satisfied with it, then. Regardless if it is what she wants.

Tarim - Should be enough to make this trip worth our time - and buy new eyes for Carver.

* Eareg Maar urges the group on to a small secluded area, an open area in a nearby thicket of gigantic scrub-brush and thorny trees.

The screams continue as the nameless ghost town burns.  The sound is absolutely horrifying.

*Garth is severely shaken by what he hears.  He retches on the ground.

Mr. Carver, the sounds of the dying fill your mind.

Eareg, the flames kindle some dark part of you, as Meteor whispers to you seductively.

* Eareg Maar shakes his head

*Mr. Carver sits numbly in the shade of one of the thorny bushes.

* Eareg Maar lays out his sleeping roll.

Eareg Maar - We've still got a long night ahead of us, Kaius wake me after your watch.

* Eareg Maar falls asleep.

Kaius Alexander - I've decided we'll use the money we got from Vivisectionist for Carver's new eyes, any objections?  How much are eyes?

* Mr. Carver falls into a nightmarish sleep.

Tarim - Depends. Does he want them living, or mechanical?

Tarim, during the night you have a strange dream.  A figure approaches you out of velvety darkness - a humanoid with a crown of twisted horns, wreathed in an aura of crackling, purplish. electricity,

"You have set me free," it says, in Hellspeak.  "You have my thanks, flesh-thing.  Know that I am Pazzun, Wielder of Black Lightning; invoke this Epithet in a tie of need, and I shall wreak destruction on your enemies in gratitude for my liberation."

The dream ends, and you awaken filled with a dark vigor'¦

The next morning a charnel heap is visible where the town once stood, and a column of smoke blots the sky.  Vultures wheel overhead and descend to feast on the blackened remains.

* Kaius Alexander stares impassively at the ruin of the town.

* Eareg Maar slings his pack over his back and looks back over the town.

Eareg Maar - Well, there goes that safe place.

Kaius Alexander - At the least, none will know of what we did. The evidence has burned with the rest.

Mr. Carver - Hmm, that's not a bad thing when you consider we just stole from a House.

* Eareg Maar leads the group home.

* Tarim follows along silently, apparently lost in thoughts

You return to the Maggot City bruised, scorched, and maimed, but with your prize (you think).

* Kaius Alexander nods stiffly to Garth and the Cestoid, handing them their earnings and bonuses by the Eel's Gate.

Kaius Alexander - And remember. We never worked together.

*Garth nods soberly and departs.

*The cestoid merely squirms and scuttles away.

Eareg Maar - You know where to find me.

Kaius Alexander - I will repay you for your guidance, Eareg.  Let it not be said I let debts go unpaid.

Eareg Maar - I want no part of the theft, especially not the money.

* Eareg Maar departs the group outside heading home.  As he walks away his owl swoops down and lands on his shoulder.

'¦

Back at the Guildhall, Cräen is busy writing notes in her workroom at the Guildhall when you enter.  She looks up from her work, expectantly.

Tarim - Greetings.

* Kaius Alexander shoulders through her door heavily.

"Greetings.  Do you have the blade?"

Kaius Alexander - Cräen, we have retrieved the blade. It was not won easily.

* Kaius Alexander throws it down on her table.

Mr. Carver - We paid a price. Or two.

"I didn't expect it to be."  She unsheathes the sword.  "Excellent.  Here is your payment, as promised."

* Kaius Alexander inclines his head.[/ic]

[Superfluous Crow]

You don't have to list me as three things in the dramatis personae. Conundrum is good enough! Cyst-Covered was just a CE tribute name :P

[Steerpike]

Some solo logs - Gorethirst's duel and a mini-session that The Meanest Guest specifically requested me for.  Ghostman happened to be online so Tarim tagged along.

[ic=The Bloodthorns]Kaius, you're heading out to look for supplies for the prospective clockwork additions to your armor.  Tarim, meanwhile, was restocking his shop's supplies and buying new ink for his grimoire.

* Kaius Alexander walks deliberately, observing his surroundings with great care.

The two of you are walking through Resurrection Row towards Kaius' tenement.  Two powerfully built men and one woman swagger out from the shadows of the Row towards you.  They wear studded leather vests that leave their arms bare, revealing intricate bramble tattoos that wind around their limbs, the thorns tipped with red.  All are armed with knives or firearms, and the woman additionally carries a heavy flail.

* Kaius Alexander stops.

The leader, a tall, sinewy man with a small beard and ice-blue eyes, raises his hands slightly in a clear gesture of non-aggression.

* Tarim eyes the group with suspicion in his gaze.

Kaius Alexander - Yes?

"You the cleavers the Dogskulls hired to make the Masticators go dark-eyed?"

Kaius Alexander - We were responsible for their deaths.

Tarim - Among some others

"Right.  I'm Gorse, and this is Thistle and Spines - Bloodthorn Clansmen all.  First of all, allow me to compliment you on some fine work.  Glut and his bunch may have been a pack of redmouthed junkies but they were no slouches."

Kaius Alexander - They were useless filth.

"Couldn't agree more.  You'll find that your talents are valuable here in the Row, and that you can never have too many friends in this city.  We've got no current quarrel with the Dogskulls - it's the Blackblades they've declared vendetta on, over on the north side.  We've had our scraps in the past, mind you, same as any two Clans.  Anyway, Chief Nettle has sent me to make you an offer."

Tarim - I will hear you

"There's a deal going down tonight with some hagman shaman over on the border of 'Squallor.  The eels are going to have dozens of braves there, armed to the teeth in case things go sour - or if the slimy bastards decide to double-cross us.

"We're bringing blades of our own, but you lot are the boggers of the week: if you come along and stand there looking mean the squirmies might think twice about trying anything.

"We hear your standard fee is five hundred bones each.  You wouldn't be required to take part in the negotiations or nothing, just stand with your arms crossed and menacing expressions on your faces, like you wouldn't think twice about slaughtering someone who looked at you wrong-ways.  Interested?"

Kaius Alexander - This, I can do. If it does come to combat, I will gladly defend your interests.

Tarim - I would do this, but do not expect any heroics.

Kaius Alexander - Heroes do not live long.  Competence is of far greater value than heroics.

"Fine by us.  The deal's going to be just after midnight in the old Temple of Agnath, on the border of Slimesquallor - got left to rats and junkies when the squirmies built the new Temple.  We'll be waiting across the street over by a sap-den called Webfoot's.  Make sure you're fully armed.  You'll get your fee after the deal's done."

* Kaius Alexander inclines his head.

"Till later, then."

Tarim - We'll be there.

Kaius Alexander - We are in high demand.

The Bloodthorns melt back into the shadows'¦

Kaius Alexander - It would seem.

Tarim - The benefits of reputation.

* Kaius Alexander grunts.

'¦

The temple is a squarish stone structure with the coiled columns typical of hagman architecture.  Its domed roof is adorned with statues of various apotropaic hagman spirits, most of them badly vandalized - tentacled beasts and molluscoid gargoyles, the bizarre demons of the swamps which the leechkin shamans are known to consort with and the hagmen shun as devils.

Across the street, Gorse, Spines, and two other Bloodthorn Clansmen you don't recognize wait outside a nectar den where gutter witches smoke the ichor of Moroi using grotesque water-pipes.  Gorse is carrying a sackcloth bag.

"Hello, Kaius, Tarim," Gorse greets you.  "This is Briar," he says, gesturing to an imposing Clansman with an enormous claymore.  "And this is my brother, Prickle," he adds, gesturing to a youth barely out of his adolescence, armed with an unwieldy pepperbox pistol.  "Are you ready to head in?"

Kaius Alexander - I am always ready.

Tarim - Yes.

* Kaius Alexander checks the rounds in his revolver with a swift, practiced motion.

* Tarim invokes Harden the Skin before entering.

Spines - the Bloodthorn woman - stays outside the Temple entrance as a lookout.

Inside, the semblance of Agnath - a many-limbed, sexless Aspect of the hagman deity - presides over an ovoid sanctum with many pillars.  A sacred fountain is evident to one side, now stagnant and covered in scum; cobwebs swathe the ceiling and stretch between the pillars.  A small doorway left of the idol leads to another chamber behind this one.

Coiled at a small wooden table in the middle of the Temple is an elderly hagman with four young males behind him, their hair dreadlocked, tridents in hand, blowguns at their waists; they wear light hide armour on their torsos.  The mucosal tracks of the hagmen coat the stone floors in viscous, sticky ooze.

The old hagman is a scrawny androgyne, its grey-green skin wizened and mottled with age.  Jewels are strung in its long hair.  Unlike the braves behind it, it wears a tailored waistcoat and a large top hat.  The Bloodthorns move forwards into the room, swaggering.

Gorse sits down at the table and reaches into the sackcloth bag.  He removes a shrunken hagman head, a shrivelled, whiskered thing, its vertical mouth pinned shut, its hair long and ragged.  You glimpse a glyph carved on its forehead.

* Kaius Alexander keeps his hand on the hilt of his longsword.  He stands next to Gorse.

*Tarim positions himself beside Kaius.

"The Head of Pengh, as we agreed," the Bloodthorn thief states simply.  "Do you have the payment?"

"You take too long," the aged hagman says.  "We pay you half - three thousand obeloi."

Tarim, out of the corner of your eye you see Briar moving his hand very slowly towards the hilt of his claymore.

Tarim - *whispering to Kaius* I think one of these guys is about to draw steel.

* Kaius Alexander gives Tarim a sidelong glance and says nothing.

Gorse calmly shakes his head.

"That's not what we agreed, mate.  We can find other buyers who'd be pleased to pay full price for this.  We lost a man inside that witch's tower - a cousin of mine, and a damn good thief, killed by some sigil-trap that turned him inside out.  We won't part with the Head for less than six thousand bones.  Your choice."

* Tarim stands unmoving, his face a solid mask.

* Kaius Alexander stares directly at the hagman elder from beneath his visor.

The older hagman is moving its hand towards its waist.  Tarim, you notice one of the braves has got his blowgun out.

Tarim - *whisper* Looks like it's going to turn bloody

The hagman notices Kaius' gaze.  Its eyes flit to Tarim's impassive features,  Whatever it was reaching for, it stops.

* Kaius Alexander seems to loom over the old table.

"Very well," the hagman relents.  "Six thousand.  As agreed."

It raises a hand and two of the hagman braves head around behind the idol and return with large bags of coin.

Gorse and the older hagman are shaking hands while the Bloodthorns collect the money.

Then there is a sound of splintering wood.

"Hands up!  You're all under arrest!" a sudden voice booms from behind you.  Footsteps pound on the floor as militia members pile into the room, bristling with repeating crossbows and guns, all aimed towards you.  A fully armoured officer of the Black Arrows stands at the door, a pistol in one hand and a sword in the other.

"Aw gleet," Gorse mumbles, reaching for his weapon.

Then everything gets a bit messy.

* Kaius Alexander turns slowly towards the militiamen.

* Tarim hisses a curse.

The older hagman snarls a hex of some kind, and suddenly the room is full of a thick, obfuscating mist.  You hear the hiss of darts and a strangled-sounding sound out of the murk as the braves let loose with their blowguns.

Tarim - *to Kaius* Let's avoid fighting the guard if we can. We have no stake in this.

Kaius Alexander - We have yet to be paid. I intend to fulfill the intent of my contract.

* Tarim backs off from the guards, invoking eldritch words. Suddenly he seems to burst into many copies of himself.

You hear a gun-shot and a bullet passes through one of Tarim's copies, dissipating it.  Another bullet whines off the floor.  Other gunshots sound throughout the fog, but none hit near you.  The Bloodthorns return fire, though even they have been reduced to vague figures in the mist.

*Kaius Alexander fires off a shot into the fog.

You hear Gorse yell "Get out of here!"  The Bloodthorn appears out of the haze, backing up, a pair of pistols in his hands, firing intermittently.  You hear a second incantation from the hagman and a bolt of eldritch energy sizzles through the fog towards the militia.

* Tarim, in all of his images, begins to chant and gesture, building up a hex. When it unleashes, a strange burst of vigour fills his and Kaius' frames.

There is another shot from the entrance, and Prickle falls dead between Kaius and one of the Tarims (as it happens, the real one), his brains splattered across the floor.  The bag of money he was holding falls to the floor as well, and a few obeloi spill out.

Tarim - There goes our esteemed employer

Another of the Tarim duplicates is hit, and dissipates.  A bullet pings off Kaius' helmet.

Kaius Alexander - Gorse. We must retreat deeper within the temple complex. Our only way of egress is blocked. There may be another way further in.

"Agreed," you hear Gorse say, though he has once again been swallowed by the fog.

Tarim - Agreed. Fighting our way through the front door is too difficult now.

"Where the fuck is Prickle?"

Tarim - He's dead.  Lying here

Kaius Alexander - Prickle is dead. Come. Let us go. This way.

"Fuck!  Get the money!"

* Kaius Alexander grabs the money as he heads towards the way further in.  Empowered by Tarim's hex, he moves with startling speed.

You move through the fog, and the many-armed idol materializes ghoulishly from the haze.  You duck through the doorway and find yourself in a small inner sanctum with two of the hagman braves.  There is a circular pool in the center of the room.  As you watch, one of the braves dives into the dark water.

Apart from the pool there is little here - a few statuettes in carved niches. some rotting sack bags, and similar detritus.

* Kaius Alexander cocks his head to the side.

"Through here," the other hagman hisses in Shambles.  "Secret exit!

* Tarim hurries after Kaius and Gorse, his remaining images running along.  Like Kaius his speed is hexed, uncanny.

Briar enters the room, blood dripping from his blade.  More gunshots follow you, and you can hear booted footsteps as the militia press forwards.

The remaining brave moves to the entrance to block it, trident in hand.

Tarim - I guess our only way out is swimming.

Kaius Alexander - It seems to be.

* Kaius Alexander narrows his eyes

* Kaius Alexander begins removing the bulkiest parts of his armour with reluctance.  He grabs a sackcloth bag from the floor and stuffs the armour inside, then ties the bag closed.

* Tarim aid Kaius to speed up the process.  Invigorated by the hex they manage to get off most of the armour, while the militia close in, battling those hagmen still in the main sanctum.  The hagman brave by the door is shooting with his blowgun.

Briar and Gorse dive in after putting away their weapons.[/b]

Kaius Alexander - I hope you are a strong swimmer, Tarim.

* Kaius Alexander dives in smoothly.

* Tarim takes a deep breath and dives into the water.

You plunge into the tepid, murky water, vaguely aware of other shapes around you.  There seems to be some kind of hole in the floor, a tunnel of some kind.  The hagman brave that dived in a moment ago squeezes through this nimbly.  Following with hexed velocity you enter a tight, claustrophobic tunnel, filled with water.  The tunnel descends for a short distance, then twists and becomes level.  You continue to swim along the tunnel, which twists occasionally, until you eventually come to a fork - you can either continue swimming forwards into darkness, or head upwards.

Tarim, with your darkvision you can see that the hagman moved upwards.  You see his tail disappearing at the edge of the narrow chimney.

* Tarim begins to ascend.

Kaius, you are swimming beneath Tarim.

* Tarim begins to flail his limbs hastily, almost panicking.

* Kaius Alexander kicks strongly as he ascends towards the helpless Tarim, reaching out with his arms.

* Kaius Alexander narrows his eyes and gives another heavy push with his shoulder.

* Tarim struggles with all the desperation of a drowning man.

* Kaius Alexander fumes and gives another push.

Briar swims up behind you.  Tarim, you are still very, very stuck - and running out of air.

* Tarim is digging is claws into the sides of the tunnel, trying to pull himself free.  With an almighty shove from Kaius to help him through, he finally extricates himself from the tight space.  He swims upwards.

Briar seems to have taken his chances with the horizontal tunnel while Kaius, attempting to ascend, also gets stuck.  The sack stuffed unceremoniously with his heavy, bulky armour in it does little to help matters.

* Kaius Alexander plants his arms firmly on the sides of the tunnel and heaves mightily, to no effect.

* Tarim swims up, feeling it wiser to at lest fill his lungs with fresh air before attempting to aid Kaius.

* Kaius Alexander struggles with the crevice mightily.  He moves an inch, then get stuck again.

*Kaius squeezes back down and into the tunnel.

* Kaius Alexander proceeds swiftly after Briar.

Kaius, you continue for some time before emerging in a broad, cylindrical shaft with steps winding round the side, down into the dark water.  Light can distantly be glimpsed from a grate in the ceiling.

* Kaius Alexander inhales deeply as he breaches the surface.

Briar is catching his breath.  There is no sign of Gorse.

Kaius Alexander - Briar.. where is Gorse?  Was he not with you?

"Lost track of him back there.  Gorse can take care of himself."

Tarim, you pull yourself up into a squarish chamber, clearly subterannean.  There is no sign of the hagman, but there are two semi-circular tunnels running to either side.

* Tarim peers into the water, trying to see if Kaius is still stuck, but sees that he has swum away.

* Tarim stands and tries to dry his soaked clothes of the excess water.

* Tarim moves to examine the tunnel entrances.

The right-hand passage turns sharply a short distance along.  The left-hand stretches into darkness.

* Kaius Alexander nods stiffly at Briar.

Kaius Alexander - It seems I have your Clan's money.

* Kaius Alexander hefts the sack.

Kaius Alexander - You will have to lead me to your base of operations.

Briar shrugs.

"Let's focus on getting out of here, first."

* Tarim dries and loads his blunderbuss pistol, then sneaks to the right-hand tunnel, carefully rounding the turn.

Tarim, you come to the entrance to a chamber of some kind.

* Tarim peeks in

The floor of this chamber is split by a rift ten feet across at its narrowest.  Broken columns litter the floor.  On the far side you can see an exit.

* Kaius Alexander dries his armour as best he can, and puts it back on laboriously.

* Kaius Alexander inclines his head to Briar.

* Kaius Alexander gazes about at his surroundings.

There's a circular panel or doorway at the top of the steps, Kaius.

Kaius Alexander - Now.. how to escape this labyrinth?

* Kaius Alexander seems thoughtful.

* Tarim turns back, returning to the chamber and passes on in to the other tunnel.

You quickly come to a T-junction.  On the one hand, a flight of steps leads downwards.  On the other, the tunnel continues until an old metal door, slightly ajar.

* Tarim quietly approaches the door, listening carefully for any sounds.

A spindly-limbed wretch with matted hair cavorts about this old tomb, prancing and babbling some strange incantation.  Every inch of his sallow dirty skin is covered in crabbed, spidery characters, and he wears the filthy remnants of an old robe.  Despite his malnourished appearance and long nails you think he is quick rather than grave-spawn.

A black candle burns to one side, melting on the lid of a sarcophagus.  As you watch this miserable creature capers and prattles about a near-skeletal corpse still wrapped in its funerary cerements.

In the unhealthy glow of the black candle you perceive a greenish glow emanate through the shrouds, as if the bones of the corpse were luminous.  Suddenly the ragged man grabs a knife and slashes his own palm, dripping the blood over the body.  There is a weird groan and the dead husk sits upright and cackles with an otherworldly voice.

* Tarim backtracks quietly away, deeming it better to not disturb a possibly mad witch in the middle of reanimation.

* Tarim heads down the steps.

The steps circle round and downwards, then terminate at a small, square chamber with a circular latch on one wall.

* Tarim tries the latch and pulls it open, then squeezes through the opening.

* Kaius Alexander motions to Briar and heads towards the aperture.

Kaius, the panel at the top of the chamber opens and you see a water-logged ghul with gemstones for eyes emerge from beyond.

Tarim - Well, nice to see you again.

Kaius Alexander - It seems you are alive, Tarim. That is good.

* Tarim heads back through the opening.

Kaius Alexander - There is nought in here, Tarim. I had thought to proceed outwards and upwards.

Briar nods.

Tarim - I found only two ways. One leads to a derelict room split by a rift.

Kaius Alexander - And the other?

Tarim - The other one leads to a sepulchre with a crazy old witch animating a corpse there.

Kaius Alexander - Then we shall deal with this witch. If he is wise, he will let us pass.



* Tarim crawls back through the latch.

* Kaius Alexander loosens his sword in its scabbard as he ascends.

You ascend the staircase.  Briar readies his claymore.  At the top, you hear the witch muttering and occasionally bursting into fits of mad laughter.

Tarim - Wisdom might be in short supply in this one, I'm afraid.

* Kaius Alexander throws the door open with a slam.

Kaius Alexander - Let us through, witch.  We will not trouble you.

The witch is making the corpse dance and lurch from side to side.  As Kaius opens the door the necromancer's head wrenches round.  He regards the Insomnolent with a strange expression somewhere between hunger, curiosity, and rage.

There is one other exit here - a staircase leading upwards.

Tarim - Sorry for the intrusion. We're just trespassing.

* Kaius Alexander stands silently, threat evident in his posture.

The witch's eyes go wide.  He cackles, then abruptly cringes in the corner, growling like a beast, eyes glowing with golden light - a sap-fiend, for certain.

"Begone!  Begone!  Get thee hence mischief-makers!"

Tarim - Let us make haste.

* Kaius Alexander never takes his eyes off the witch and his creation as he moves to the stairs.

The skeleton watches you mutely, though its bones creak.

Tarim - *whispering* The corpse will only do as commanded

You make it to the stairs, the witch scrutinizing you as you move.

* Kaius Alexander gives one last backward glance as he begins to climb.

* Tarim follows right behind Kaius.

You ascend the stairs, eventually reaching a small anteroom with two other divergent tunnels and a ladder leading upwards to a grate in the ceiling.

Tarim - Where to from here?

* Kaius Alexander raises his visor and looks around

Kaius Alexander - Upwards. If we can.

You push open the grate with difficulty and pull yourself up, finding yourself in an alleyway in what appears to be the Slimesquallor district, based on the fishy smell, the mucus tracks, and the buildings of greenish stone instead of the usual red-brown or mottled grey more common in other parts of Macellaria.

* Tarim seeing Kaius succeed, climbs up after him.

* Kaius Alexander inhales deeply.

Briar follows close behind.

"Good work back there, you two.  Since Gorse isn't here I'll pay you your share."

Kaius Alexander - Let us leave this district quickly and quietly. I mislike these hagmen.

* Kaius Alexander inclines his head at Briar.

He nods.

Tarim - Quite a bit of trouble there. Glad that's over with for us

After you make your way out of the district of bathhouses, temples, imbroglio parlours, and hagman residences the Briar counts out one thousand obeloi from the payment the hagman elder offered.

* Tarim bows gratefully.[/ic]