Cap'n Voodoo's Freebooter PBP

Game Master voodoo chili

As the sea breeze slows, the muggy heat settles over you bludgeoning you with the scent of cooking food punctuated by the chamber pot contents that you step around now and then. It's still enough that occasionally you hear your own boots scuff on the uneven cobblestone as you reach your destination and see a few dark figures ahead.

Obviously, you weren't the only one to be approached on the dock by the fat red faced man with a superior attitude. He offered a couple coins and the opportunity to make something of yourself for an honest night's work. You are well aware that ‘an honest night's work' is a contradiction in Freeport, but it seemed worth checking out as the man's airs seemed to imply he might have some noteworthy contacts, who might at least put in a good word to get you back on a ship.

As you approach the meeting place you see the others gathering in front of a non-descript row house. It might have been a business, but the shingle has been removed. The solitary ground floor window has been boarded over and a few rough boards are nailed across the door ...

The small man known as Dingus is the first to arrive. Wearing his tattered hooded cloak as always, he slowly approaches the building, his cane making a rat-a-tat sound on the uneven cobbles. Dingus looks for somewhere to sit and wait for the man he had spoken to earlier. Trying to stay as cool as possible in the grips of this horrid humidity.

Madman Jim Patterson arrives next, walking easily down the middle of the street (and avoiding alley mouths, alcoves, and other places where press-gangs or worse might be lurking). One hand stays near the hilt of his rapier at all times. He approaches Dingus, stopping at a nonthreatening distance. "Jim Patterson. The fat man send you, too?"

Before the Tienman answers a few grunts can be heard from the alley followed by the sound of a stream of water hitting the cobbles. The sound dies off to an intermittent splatter, then some moments later you see a filthy small figure limp out of the alley leaning on his quarterstaff.

"Hoo boy, I feel a couple pounds lighter and sweetly relieved. Well neither of ye look too fat so I'm assumin we still be waiting for tha man of the hour" the short one pauses, fishing a flask from his tunic and taking a deep swig. "I don't remember what he be looking like as things were a bit blurry this mornin."

The halfling squints at the two men in front of him, before extending a weathered hand in greeting: "I be Dibbets, and I heared you're called Jim - what name do the ladies cry out in your presence then?"

From deep within the folds of his cloak the raspy voice answers "I am called Dingus".

A tall man in a black coat, with a wide black hat walks down the middle of the street. He pauses to stare down an alley, just before a young ruffian comes out of the shadows, looks at him with a comprehension of fear and runs down the street.

He resumes his walk and approaches the group. His black wrinkled clothes are covered with salt stains. Under his hat is seen damp long white hair matted with salt. The visible part of his face is pale, and covered in few days of white stubble, but his skin looks too young for so much white hair. He is bearing a rapier on his hip whose pommel guard has a chitin inset that resembles a skull and crossbones, and where his left hand rests on the pommel it's clear that the ring finger of that hand is gone. The steps taken are soft, but seem to leave wet footprints that fade after several seconds.

Those with knowledge of the town know this is the Groom, a disturbing prophet. He stops in front of the group, looking at no one in particular, he intones, "A die is about to be cast. The Pirate Queen has shown an interest." His voice has a slight gurgle as if water were in his throat.

After a hopefully expectant pause, Dibbets notices no-one has bent down to shake his hand. He brings it up to his eyes for inspection and raises his eyebrows in surprise before wiping the worst of the dirt off on his shirt.

Watching the group arrive from a nearby tavern window, a stocky half orc's eyes narrow as each individual arrives. Heh. Right motley crew. Fit right in won't ye Kaul. His twisted mouth twists further into what could be a smile and he throws a few coppers into his empty mug, and nonchalantly wanders out to meet his fellow crew.

The thug walks towards the assembling group with a nonchalant air of violence that only a heavily armed, heavily scarred half orc brings. His hands outstretched to show he bears no weapons in hand; but he does carry plenty: over his brawny shoulder swings a large blade, a quiver of javelins jostle by his hip, and at his belt a press-gangers sap.

Smiling his gargoyles grimace Kaul, eyes the group, nodding in the direction of the Groom; "Evenin' gents. Nice night for it eh? Name's Kaul but folks around here know me as ‘Keelhaul'...fer good reason." The half orc's voice has an easy if mumbling quality and his body bears scars enough to render explanation of his nickname unnecessary.

Opening a small leather pouch Kaul scoops out some tobacco and slips it between his misshapen maw. "Chew?" he enquires offering the bag to his fellow loiterers.

Dibbets' turns to Kaul and starts "So we got a hooded bloke who's sweating rivers, a clean jawed Taldan and some berk who looks like he's wedded the Drowner herself. Looks like you and me's the only ones been on the wrong end of the Captain's daughter."

Giving a toothy smile and chuckling to himself Dibbets continues "But the fat man did promise some coin, so maybe I should grab meself a box to stand on so we can see eye to eye?"

With an appreciative Hur Kaul grinaces at the weatherbeaten gnome and mumbles "Ain't that the shark's tooth. Hur-hur-hur." The half orc's chuckle rumbles as tobacco juice drips from his chin. Spitting he mutters "So the fat man tell any of youse why we're all standing a'rown like lubbers watching a hempen jig?" In answer to Kaul, Jim shakes his head. "Not a whisper of a clue. There's coin in it for me, all I know."

Having remembered his manners Jim squats down a bit and shakes Dibbets' hand."Well met, mate. Dibbets...that name sounds familiar...weren't you shipping with old Jake Stormhaul?" Jim spits into the street, before sneering. "I won't dignify that bastard by calling him a captain. Y' have my sympathies, if you were."

Dibbets shares the handshake before answering "Aye, I spent some time bobbing back and forth about 30ft up from Stormhaul. He cast me out when I took a tumble from the nest and shortened me leg by a coupla inches" tapping his left leg with his staff while he talks. "Pah, I hold no grudges and he put me in with a fair shake of grog money. Got enough barkeeps chasing me for unpaid tabs without makin more enemies. Have you come in from a clipper yerself?"

Jim responds "Aye, one or three. My last voyage didn't end well...Cap'n Billy Oakleg, gods rest him, was as fine a commander as ever I sailed under, but his bos'n was out of Rahadoum--you know, the atheists? The damned Godsless fool didn't give alms to a priest of the Pirate Queen 'fore the voyage."

"Never seen such a run of bad luck in my life! Oh, we eventually figured out what'd happened, but by then poor Billy'd had his head stove in when a storm took down the foremast. Tossed the bos'n overboard--so he could apologize to Her in person, you know?--and limped back here. An' wouldn't you know it, fair seas and following winds all the way home. The new cap'n wanted a new crew, though, not that I blame him. So here I am, biding my time until another berth opens up."

The Groom turns to look down at Dibbets, "You, devotee of wind and wave, we are so different yet on parallel tacks. You are scarred as a child of the elements of wind and wave yet my scar is from, and allegiance is to, She who rides the Wind and commands the Deep. Still, respect is paid to keep away the calms and outrun the gales" the Groom's hat does a slight but noticeable nod.

Dibbets listens to the Groom attentively, if with a slack-jawed confused look on his face. "Oooooo kaaayy... Aye I pay respect to the Drowner, but I also don't blame the Skylord if I get wet relieving myself upwind. I'd like to believe that Gozreh's got a bit more on is plate than looking out for little ol me"

The Groom looks over and his eyes rest on 'Keelhaul'. "You...the one called Kaul...you have muttered Besmara's name..Do you show her the respect she deserves?"

Kaul's eyes narrow menacingly and he sends a lob of chew spit towards a passing urchin before answering "The Drowner herself kissed me scars after the Chelexian bastards keelhauled me o'er and o'er. I should o' been chum for the devilfish, but I lived see... so aye I pay her proper respect... if in you mean I thank her everytime I can't feel the lash... proper bless her I do! Hur-hur-hur!" Pointing to the whalebone scrimshaw symbol around his neck he adds "Carry her symbol on me... ain't that respect enough fer ye Groom?"

The Groom's head nods "Wearing it and flying it are easy and cheap. It is good that you know and respect it. Too much in this town is done in Her name with no concern for Her. But she will take what is Hers, but as you and I are proof, she returns the rest to serve her wants. So it is good that you, the one named Kaul, are here, for a strange tide awaits the endeavor that sails with no respect."

Kaul chuckles "Right bunch o' scholars here... talking religion... what's next gents - a touch o' politics? Hur!" Kaul absently mutters to his fellow loiterers. In a low voice the Groom clarifies "I am not here to talk religion...I deal in Respect."

Kaul continues on anyway "Saying that - nice spot this District... likes of us don't tend to drift this way. Never came near'ere when I ran with Smiler Keefe's pressgang..."

"Keelhaul" spits a jet of chew in disgust as his scarred brow furrows and he cracks his knuckles. "Any o' you know Keefe? Mean scragblooded bulwark o' a man... a bad bastard and no mistake..."

Where "Keelhaul" had spit, the Groom spits out a steady stream of salt water, over a gallon at anyone's estimate. It washes away the tobacco and when the Groom wipes his chin his face bears a faint smile. "Keefe...a good man there."

The conversation is interrupted by the creak and rumble of a wagon rolling down the street toward the assembled group..

Red Face beckons to the pair of hulking figures squatting in the wagon. "Alright you lugs, let's get to work!" A large half orc and massive human with an ugly scar across his nose drop out of the wagon and pull crowbars from their black long coats.

Dibbets addresses the newly arrived gentlefolk "Maybe me memory's a bit fuzzy, but I'm not remembering that ye told us any details on what we're meant to be doin. Care to fill us in? - or should we keep standin in a circle decorating the street?"

Red face looks down at the halfling, "I didn't say. It's Finn's business and that's all you need to know. I was told to hire a few strong backs to clear out this building quick-like and that's what we're doing. Obviously you wouldn't even be here, ya crazy little blighter if it weren't for Finn's policies of afurrytim actions!"

Pondering a moment Dibbets responds in a rare moment of solemnity and with a grim look on his face "Finn ye say.... I've not heard o' him, but coin is coin. Let your more able friends open the way and we'll head in." The Groom tips his hat and stands aside "Greed is good."

"Can't hurt to have a fine gentleman like Finn knowing we do good work, I'd say" Jim loosens his blade in its sheath. "What are we clearing out of here, rats?" The fat man laughs darkly, "Rats, aye."

Dingus listens to all the blustering with no comment and keeps clear when the crowbars come out. As he waits for entrance to be made he whispers a few words, and gestures a bit, as green translucent scales, made up of force cover his exposed (and unexposed) skin.

Dibbets hums quietly to himself and checks his unloaded crossbow to make sure it is ready for use when needed. The halfling then stretches his back, which elicits a series of loud popping cracks. "Aaaaahhh."

Keelhaul eyes Red face and the thugs carefully but with the chatter of his companions he fails to catch their jist. An' in Freeport there ain't no shortage of big, ugly buggers. Me fer one he muses before shrugging and looking around at his fellow crew arming themselves. Grinning at the sight of the others arms "Heh. Bolt chuckers an' pretty needles boys... I prefer summit a tad tastier." unsheathing his heavy steel falchion, notched and wicked looking.

"Meet my better half lads: "Bloody Bess"... ain't she bewtiful?" Kaul's wistful eyes shine as he strokes the blades edge, all the while wearing his brutal smile.

Jim eyes the half-orc with a slight smile, hastily wiped away as soon as he realizes what he's doing. "Fine piece of steel, Kaul. Wave that around at me, I'd sign on in a heartbeat."

Red Face's half orc gives Keelhaul a slight nod as he approaches the door and joins his scar nosed companion in removing the boards. With the squeal of nails prised from swollen wood, the planks across the door clatter to the ground and before anyone can touch the door it slowly swings open as if of its own volition.

Red face takes a moment to light a pair of cheap lamps and hands one off to Dibbets saying, "Make yourself useful, why don't ya." Shaking his head, the halfling blows out the lantern and puts it in the cart. Closing his eyes and mumbling to himself for a few moments, he blows on the end of his quarterstaff and it starts warmly glowing with light.

Returning the burly half orc's nod with one of his own, Kaul steps into the doorway and peers around cautious like. Head tilted and licking at the air as he enters the room. His nose is assaulted by the not unpleasant if a bit overwhelming smell of dried herbs. The guttering light of the lamp and Dibbet's staff outlines bunches of dried vegetative material hanging everywhere. The left side of the room is a bit clearer and you can make out shelves full of glass jars and bottles reflecting in the lamplight. A desk squats in the near corner and a door sits in the opposite wall about 15 feet away. To the right the inverted scrubland of dead plants thickens and there are several barrels and sacks in the near corner with the room continuing around.

Kaul muses in a low mumbling whisper "So Bess... are ye hungry girl? Know I is... Maybe we find summin fer ye tae bite eh?"

James sidles in beside Kaul, and murmurs just loudly enough so that a few of the others can hear him, "I got no problem if you take her to bed, but I don't care to know the details." His voice and face are a comically exaggerated mask of concern, empty of malice. Kaul pauses... scarred eyebrows momentarily dropping to a scowl... as his cleft mouth splits to a ugly grin. "Hur. Good un. Hur-hur."

The red faced man looks around in disgust. "Just a bunch of dried poseys." before turning to Kaul and curtly instructing "Put that blade away. You're going to need both hands to carry some of this junk out of here. Why don't you lot start upstairs and we'll look around down here. Drag down the furniture or anything of value. Stairs should be through the kitchen over there if this house has the same layout as the rest of this block." He points around the corner to the right.

As Kaul moves on Red Face motions Jim close for a moment and whispers to him "You're the only one who seems to have a lick of sense among this crew. You'll get a fair bit extra if you make sure none of them tries to nick anything." to which Jim nods. Though as soon as he's facing away from the fat man, he not-quite smiles, thinking to himself Lubbers...just 'cause I never lost the Navy habit, they think I'm not like my mates here. Useful, that.

Dibbets swans in limping after the rest and his sharp ears pick up what passes between the Red Face and the Madman. As he goes through the kitchen towards where the stairs should be he mutters "Why would I want to steal some bloody flowers" The red faced man frowns at Dibbets back with narrowed eyes as he moves forward.

Dingus looks to the shelf of jars and goes to work silently picking things up through force of his magic and shaking them. Each jar is inspected in turn before being spirited back upon the shelves.

The light of Dibbets' advancing staff reveals a small room that serves as the kitchen. A nearby table holds a plate of faintly foul smelling food. Several chopping knives are scattered about and a line of pots hang on the wall above the table. The far right corner is the hearth and a sizeable copper cauldron rests in a pile of ashes. Stairs leading up and back toward the front of the building begin in the far left corner.

The group ignores the kitchen for the now and instead heads upstairs. Madman Jim and the Groom lead the way while the other three follow on their heels. At the top of the stairs, the door stands ajar and a dim glow comes from beyond. The Groom's gurgling voice wards "Bit of a glow like an Angler there, don't know any dried flowers that glow like that. Lets find out what horror awaits us."

Jim pushes the door and it creaks open to reveal a bedroom. In the corner nearest the door is an unmade bed with an old dress lying across it. The dim light seen from outside is coming from a human skull on the small table next to the bed. An eerie red glow radiates out from the skull's eye sockets. A pair of large trunks and a writing table fill out the rest of the room and an ornate Qadiran carpet covers the floor. The windows of the room are swathed in thick curtains that are tightly drawn.

While most cast eye about the room, Kaul's narrowed eyes spy that the old dress lying on the bed still clothes the skin of its owner. The hollow skin lies across the bed like a deflated bladder, eyes and mouth gaping open and filled with nothing but darkness.

Kaul holds "Bess" wardingly before himself muttering to her as he does "Looks an' smells like bad ju-ju Bess... Sack tha fatman an' his skelpt arse o' a face. It be teeth bearing time lass..."

The Groom also spies what Kaul did and nods his head in understanding. A room full of herbs would not have drawn him here, but this... Laying his hand upon the door frame the black swathed man utters a curse. There is a sizzling sound and the smell of smoke and when hand is withdrawn there is the mark of the skull and crossbones burned into the door frame. Jim starts in surprise at the curse and sizzle. "What's that, man?"

"That? The Lady's mark...for Luck. the Groom wonders if He of the Red Face knows exactly what he is up against?" he intones as he crosses to the bed. Hooking the skin with the hilt of a dagger he lifts it as he turns back to the door "Nothing wrong with robbing the dead...nor when the dead come to take it back." Chuckling he jiggles the skin dress and points it toward the skull. "Feels like we are going to need it."

Buoyed by the Groom's courage in the face of "bad ju-ju" Kaul slips into the room behind the fell inquisitor and while he bears Bess in one hand, his other unconciously slips up towards his whalebone holy symbol of Besmara. He flits expectant looks between the skull, Dibbets, The Groom and Dingus...

Walking in to the room, Dibbets casts his eye over the skin dress. "Dunno bout you Kaul, but I prefer em with a bit more meat on em!" chuckling at his own joke he tries to help cool Kaul's nerves.

Dingus makes a quick gesture and the floppy leather-like head lifts awkwardly under the effect of his mage hand. As the weight of the skin becomes too much for the cantrip to bear Dingus feels the spell collapse as he muses "How did this one meet it's end. Are there any signs of foul play?"

Yet the sheet of flesh continues to rise floating toward him with blackest eye and mouth gaping in a silent scream!

Satisfied that his actions had some effect, the Groom gives the dagger another twist, and a second bolt of white energy from the Groom scorches it further. Its hold weakens as it sloughs onto the floor. The empty eyes and mouth seem somewhat less dark now and looking at the wrinkled face surrounded by a cloud of wild white hair it gives you the impression of a sad old lady.

The light from the glowing skull dims a moment and then rekindles its eerie red radiance as a crash rocks the building and throaty screams and shouts echo from downstairs. Jim runs in that direction, holding his sheathed rapier in his left hand as Dibbets moves up alongside Dingus.

The halfling gives the Tianman a hearty slap on the lower back "No slouching sonny, I don't think the games up yet." before muttering words divine at a low ebb. The slap catches Dingus as he steps back, preparing to run and bolstering his courage. He hisses "You have my gratitude, and I am in your debt" but Dibbets had already limped off after Jim as quickly as his crippled form could muster.

Letting the others check the commotion downstairs Kaul stays with the Groom, crossing over to the chests and flipping them open with Bess. His avarice is checked though as the first contains only a pile of old lady clothes and junk plus an added smell like mothballs. But effort pays off and as he starts digging around he feels a satifactorily weighty pouch at the bottom.

The Groom takes his dagger and cuts a swath from the bed cover. Wrapping it carefully around the base of the skull and lifting it up. He is careful not to touch the crystal, but leaves it uncovered, so he can still see its eyes. Enough fabric is left free to completely cover the bone if needed. The skull continues to emit a red glow from its eyes, but remains harmless as the Groom gingerly lifts it.

Kaul rifles through the other chest of old lady stuff finding nothing of value while the Groom starts to flip the rest of the fabric over the skull. "You need to rest now, unless you want to tell us what happened here." Silence is his answer and the soggy soldier of the Drowner finishes covering it and heads toward the stairs.

Nimbly navigating his way down the start of the stairs, Jim realizes there is no light ahead as he hears the front door slam shut. The commotion moves to the street as a horse screams and there is a clatter of hoofs followed by the sound of a wagon careening down the street. Faintly comes the echo of Red Face running the other direction yelling "Goody's Ghost is coming to get me. Goody's done hexed me!"

As Dibbets heads further into the room, near darkness surrounds Jim. He hears a moan as someone slumps against the wall in the kitchen. Then something leathery brushes against the Taldan and he feels piercing pain. Urged on by a pained grunt, Dibbets hobbles back to the doorway returning light to the stairs and sees Jim covered with pigeon-sized bug-bats that swell and pinken as he watches. Two more of the bug-bats swoop over Jim's head and flitter toward Dibbet's light.

The halfling takes a wild and wide swing at them with his staff afore bellowing "Kaul, get your arse down here - we got some pests need swattin" Though his furtive attempts to fend off the bugs are in vain and two of the bug-bats settle on him grabbing tightly with their barbed legs and plunging their needle mouths into his flesh.

Writhing in the clutch Jim curses "When I...find...that sodding heap of suet...I'll flay him alive for getting me into this!" as he pulls one of the things free of his flesh and holds it squirming. Dibbets lets his staff fall to the floor and pulls out a dagger, flailing uselessly before squealing "Wrraaaaagh!! Bloody gloom-kissed miscreants! Gerroff!"

Kaul leers to himself as he pockets the weighty chest found pouch before hearing Dibbet's cry to arms. Snapping from his greedy musings, he grabs Bloody Bess and makes for the stairs at all haste "C'mon girl, time fer you to kiss someone..." Dingus beats him to it though unleashing a magic missile that blows a wing and a few legs off one of the bugs, but doesn't quite kill the thing.

The bug-bats continue to swell as they draw deep on sanguine Jim juice and Dibbets dregs while Jims holds a third creature in his hand staring at the probing tubular mouth part that strains toward him flashing a rasping little tongue out of the end. Kaul rushes past Dibbets and down the stairs while Dingus finishes off the damaged creature affixed to the halfling with another magic missile.

Spying that Jim was able to pull one off, Dibbets changes tack and tries to pull the one left off him, ejaculating "Hah! Got the blighter." when he manages to. Jim plaintively cries "Get these wretched things off of me!"[/b] as he remains beset by a fat bug-bat dangling from his back and another clutching his right arm. The Groom moves up behind Jim, "Quite the infestation." and swipes ineffectual with his dagger in an attempt to scrape off the beast on Jim's arm.

Kaul narrows his eyes angry like, taking in the flapping pests as they peck and suck as his crew mates and grimacing at the flapping pests settled on Jim. He almost raises Bess for a strike, thinks better of it and sheathes her. Grabbing for a bloated bug bat Kaul misses and only succeeds in grabbing an equal measure of Jim's shirt and skin in the process. "Damn pests are stickier than limpets! Sorry shipmate..."

The Groom slices again at the dangly on the back of a very pale Jim, but it swings out of the way at the last moment. Skin going cold as his blood is further appropriated by the parasites. Jim gets a sure grip on the bug-bat in his hands and squeezes for his life until blood squirts out the thing's mouth and it crumples satisfyingly.

Kaul and Dingus then perk up at the filtered sound of a whistle coming from down the street. Kaul muses "Ere... Dibbets - you hears that? I knows that sound better than me own mother's curses... Guard whistle!" while Dingus hisses "Hope there's a back way out of here". "Sounds like the fat man ratted us out".

Through gritted teeth Dibbets urges "Aye Kaul, sounds like the flat feet are on their way. We best be finishing up sharpish! This mights be a bit hard to explain..." before he throttles the beast in his wee small hands until its eyes bulge and its tongue hangs out of its mouth tube. The hairy halfling cackles with glee before discarding the expired corpse. Another bolt of force scythes through the stairwell striking the dangler on Jim's back and showering everyone in a quart of blood.

Though a single swollen bug-bat remains on Jim's arm, the Groom is oblivious and holds up his bundle to address it. "You, the skull of red eyes. Your games have raised the Guard. You gave us no time to answer your unasked question of what happened here. If you are up for travel, I will give portage, and perhaps we can converse later."

While the Groom is distracted by the death's head, the last bug-bat takes a final pull of Jim juice and detaches madly flapping its wings to stay aloft. Leaning against a nearby wall for support, Jim draws his rapier "You...are not going...to get away with my blood, you little muckspawn!" and with a weary swing he slices a wing off the retreating creature and it plops on the floor only to be crushed under Kaul's boot.

As the crew regroups in the kitchen, Dibbet's light reveals the staring corpse of the huge man with the scar across his nose. Two more bug-bats dislodge from the corpse and jiggling like a full wine skin with wings buzzing at full speed clumsily make their way around the corner to the front room. Curiously the cauldron is no longer in the hearth but lies near the man with a large dent in its side.

Eyeball to eye socket, the Groom makes his way to the front door taking no notice of the freed and sated bug-bats that buzz their way through the doorway behind him sloshing like a sailor's bladder on the first night in port. His focus on the skull though is unrewarded except by it continuing to gleam ominously.

The half-orc Kaul heads over to the corpse of "Cut-nose" and pads him down for valuables, before relieving him of some coin, a flask, his rapier and a gold ring with HH inlaid with tiny red gemstones. Meanwhile the Groom points the wrapped skull at the fallen man and the dented cauldron. "More of your doing?" he asks as he walks past Kaul and his looting with a muttered "Good man..never leave a fallen man's gold behind."

The Groom approaches the door and gives it a nudge to open it while asking of the skull "You gonna let us outta here?" Permission is either given or unneeded though as the door swings open at the Groom's touch as the skull's eyes flare. Out in the street a few bystanders have begun to gather, but most of the attention appears to be focused down the street at the source of the guard's whistles.

Bursting out of the stairwell with the skin bag trailing behind him like a macabre cloak Dibbets barks "Someone check an see if we can get out the back way, an lets grab as much loot as we can carry I'll get to see if I can't buy us some extra time to hoof it" and dropping to his knees in front of the door he begins to manically hack at the floorboards with a tiny blade. Dingus glances to the rear of the building and hisses to the hairy short one "The rear is blocked" Forcing Dibbets to stand up and swear "Pah, change a tact then"

While the others make things muse and plan, Jim calmly sheathes his rapier and strides out the front door, trying to not look like he's about to pass out. A half attentive face in the crowd turns and opens his mouth to speak, but Jim rests a hand on his rapier hilt and stares him down, quietly saying "I don't think you want to do that, friend." Jim's feet take him West, away from the witch-house and the approaching whistles.

The Groom sees many bystanders milling about and calls the others over for a fireside conference "Would be best to set their minds to not wanting to be here." Holding the red-eyed skull out on towards Dingus he asks "You of the Tien magics, can you float our mascot out the door and introduce her to the crowd? I can set the mob to thinking our way."

Irritated and wishing to be away the Tianman grumbles "I can indeed float the stupid skull. We must however remain fairly close to it to do so ... And what is the plan after the guards fearing for our safety attack the skull? Do we let them do so, then run?" The harsh words roll off the soggy one's back as he cryptically replies "The Queen will should add to the sense of dread. Just don't drop her ... I don't want to see her when she's angry."

Falling in step Kaul nods vigorously, setting his jowls flapping while Dibbets grimaces. Turning to the door he concentrates as he draws breath before exhaling with focus and causing a thick bank of fog to roll outwards from the doorway and into the street. As a last thought and with skin-bag under one arm, Dibbets stumps over to sling a bag of flowers o'er his shoulder and warns "Righto lads, nows the time that fog won't last forever."

From outside the crowd sees a foreboding mist form and spill out of the witch-house's door. Taking an initial backwards step the assembled watch it with some trepidation ... that only deepens when the fog takes on a reddish hue like blood dispersing after a shark attack. A bold man in the front leans forward to peer into the mist and sees the light coalesce into two points of light at about head level. Suddenly, there is a collective gasp from the on-lookers as the lights are revealed to be the fiendishly glowing eyes of a FLYING SKULL!!

The Groom steps through the mist until a human shape looms out of the fog towards him and with a hand on the pommel of his sword, he calls upon Besmara's grace to sink the bystanders courage. The icy touch of fear grips the man and he lets out a bellow like a wounded sea cow, plowing over a child in his rush to save his soul from the demon skull and flee. His singular path soon becomes a rout as the gathered men and women rush back to their homes or at least away from the cloud of doom. With a banging of doors and shutters, the street is cleared in moments.

"Righto lads, lets catch up to Jim." hisses Dibbets at a low ebb as he pads out through the fog Westward and in search of the Taldan. As he stumps along, the skin-bag is roughly folded and unceremoniously shoved into this pilfered sack of flowers. Following in his wake come the other three, cautious of movement – but no one notices them slipping out of the thinning fog and down the street.

It doesn't take long to catch up to Madman, as he's slumped against a wall taking a breather and offering some support they soon hasten down an alley as the thudding of the Watch's boots reaches the abandoned house. The Groom again consults with his swaddled skull only to find the light has mysteriously faded from its sockets.

Jim gratefully accepts the proffered flask from Dibbets and takes a swig "Thank you kindly, Master Dibbets...you're a right one." Jim sways slightly as he passes the flask back. "I best be careful. What those flying leeches did to me, I've no head for strong drink 'til I wrap myself around some grub." Madman stops and pauses in thought "Now, I was a mite distracted there, but the fat man said he worked for Finn? And one of his thugs is dead? I'm thinking the Docks are where we want to be, an' they come asking after their boy. Finn is a nasty piece of work, with lots o' friends." shaking his head

the Groom looks sadly at the skull. "Light's out apparently. But You of the glowing eyes put on a wonderful show." wrapping it in cloth and secreting it upon his person. "He of the Red Face left us to die, nothing wrong with that in a hopeless situation. But his cowardice scuttled the job and called down the law. These two sins have been scrolled in a watery tome. There will be a reckoning."

Kaul smiles his twisted smile: "Aye, sounds a plan... but first we needs to find somewhere's so we kin divvy up our loot..." tapping the pommel of the fancy rapier tucked in his belt. "Plenty for one and all I reckons... and maybe a room fer you and tha skinbag to get proper acquainted? Hur-hur-hur!" Kaul's scarred face then contorts into what might be taken for puzzlement.

Dingus is internally starting to question getting involved with this rough group but with nowhere else to go and the trouble of the witch house upon him as much as the others – he remains, standing, watching and sweating in the infernal heat of Freeport.

A lightbulb figuratively lights up in the scarred half-orc's noggin and he brandishes the pilfered ring "Got this offa "Cut-Nose. Them's the initials of the Hell Hounds, Finn's boys, put the lug on shopkeepers and the like... rough crew." his eyes narrow dangerously "See I reckon's that tha fat man will ping us fer anything that went sewer deep. We either find him or find Finn's boys first and ping him? Sack running, surer way o' getting ourselves a price that every rowdy an shanker will aim ta collect". Kaul's hacking laugh rumbles up as he mulls what he said: "Hell boys if its high enough I might be tempted ta collect on us myself... Hur-hur-hur-hur!"

Jim laughs. "You have the right of it, Kaul. But 'less you got serious friends in low places, we won't find the fat man. So how 'bout we get us to the Hell Hounds. We'll come in all nice an' friendly. Couldn't take the body with, sorry, but we took the ring so the law wouldn't know who did it. And here it is back...see how nice we are? The fat man? No, we're not mad he bailed on us. But are they mad he bailed on one of theirs?" the Taldan works through the proposed story before hopefully asking "How's that sound?"

Dibbets nods "Aye, Jim that sounds a fair plan. Better we go than be sought out" and Kaul concurs "Aye Jim, sounds solid enough - might carry us some favour with the Hounds too. First things first though eh? Let's find us a spot to dredge over the booty, swallow some scran an' sink some grog... we can ask around after the Hell Hounds while we do?" Kaul's wreck o' a brow furrows as he thinks a likely spot to drink nearby

"How about Assad's Smoke Shop lads? It's but a long spit o' chew from Finn's stomping grounds and outta be able to track down where the Hell Hounds operate from..." grinning his misshapen smile that's all teeth, scars and tusks; "Plus they ain't likely to be looking fer us there..." leading the group on towards the center of the district.

As the Field of Honor looms up ahead the cobbled streets widen and crowds increase as folks rush to buy a few forgotten items as the last shops close up for the night. A rickshaw shoulders past now and then and evening hawkers sell sausage and other snacks. On a side street near the Field you see the exotic print and designs of Kafe Ilkin opposite the lurid advertisements of Herbert's Pawn. Assad's Smoke Shop is at the southwest corner of the open space across the pink stone plaza. Beyond the closing booths, splashing fountains, and strollers you see the large brick structure of the Halfling Benevolent Association.

Jim stumbles slightly and catches himself against Kaul. As he does so, he leans close and murmurs, "Think we're bein' watched." Dibbets has caught the observation also and after giving Kaul and Jim a sly wink, the halfling stumps over to Herbert's to look at the ads next to the suspicious watcher. Kaul half smiles as he slips brass knuckles over meaty fingers and waits for a reason to use them.

A short human with stringy blonde hair siddles over to regard Dibbets with beady bloodshot eyes, his unadorned boney fingers twitch nervously as he eyes the halfling and his burden. Dibbets looks up and casually asks "Are ye lookin to be buyin or sellin?" A trickle of red tinted spit runs down the man's chin as he smiles luridly "I might be buying if you got what I think you might in that big ole sack there.""

Dibbets muses "And what might ye think that I got in my sack then?" as grubby fingers are put to thoughtful strokes through his beard. In an instant the addled unfocused glaze drops from the man's eyes and they pierce Dibbets like a boarding pike. "A small black box you might have found in yon witch's house! It has sentimental value to me."

The wretch makes a grab for the sack and Dibbets reacts by jerking backwards, but is unable to keep hold. "$%* (&*) &^%$*%% (*^&%$#^&%^&)" Dibbets howls a string of curses and invective in four languages before growling "Mates, looks like this'n needs be taught some manners."

With a chortling cry of victory the madman dumps the dried flowers and manky skin onto the ground. "Where is it?" he straightens and shouts. Kaul steps up to the distracted man and grins ominously as brass knuckles sink deep into the wretch's chest like bombard shot "Hur-hur-hur. Stupid little flayleaf puppet I gots it. Want it? Come get it... Hur-hur-hur."

The junkie moans and slumps against the half-orc now trickling blood as well as flayleaf juice from his lips. Jim leans over to try rasping "Drop the bag and walk away. Now." but it comes out breathless rather than threatening. The Groom walks overs looking down upon the wreckage of the man and the bag and laments "What's the point?"

"I need that box," he sobs as the desperate man staggers backwards out of reach, red rimmed eyes filled with hate. Hand darts into a pocket of his coat and it emerges with a spray of brightly colored sand fortified by magical incantation. A bedazzling arc of brilliantly clashing colors washes over most of the crew.

Dingus is far enough away to avoid it, and attempt to refer the favour through a coughed gobbet of acidic sputum, but it catches in his throat and falls sizzlingly short. Jim seethes "That's torn it." as he weathers the assault before an anaemic flail with his own blade has no effect. Squinting his eyes shut at the last second, Dibbets barely avoids copping a light spray himself and steps to the junkie.

Kaul's less lucky though and his pupils dilate as the brunt of the colour wave washes over him. Slowly slumping to his knees mumbling as he goes; "Prrrrreeettteeeeee cccccuuuullllluuuurrrrsss" the thug faceplants onto the street with a wet smack.

The junkie's face cracks into a crimson smile as he claims one victim, but his gloating leaves him open to the Groom's judgement. Pontificating as his rapier flashes out "You can not hide your sin's behind cheap tricks." the blade cuts a bloody furrow across the junkie's chest. Despite the hurt though, the wretch's eyes focus past you and his smile fades "Asmodeus' Arse! Here come your friends,"

Even as the bastard runs, Dibbets makes a desperate dive to try and hold him back ... but falls spectacularly short. Faceplanting beside Kaul on the street his breath is driven from him in a forceful huff, and some onlookers reward his failure with braying guffaws. From the opposite direction though come a pair of imposing humans shoving their way toward you through the gathering crowd.

Dibbets slowly gets to his feet after the man is gone, spitting out dried flowers as he does. Muttering to himself the halfling stoops to begin stuffing the spilled skinbag and flowers back into his sack. Kaul lies statuesque and very still kissing the cobbles, eyes wide open and pupils two alarmingly different sizes.

The ominous interlopers push through the crowd and come into easier view. A neck less Taldan with kinky dark hair that hangs greasily to his shoulders and a Bekyar nearly seven feet tall with the letters ‘HH' branded into his shoulder. Both are wearing sleeveless studded leather jerkins that emphasize their muscular arms and bear stylish rapiers at their side. More immediately threatening are the heavy clubs in their hands which they pat menacingly as they approach.