Dot in here so we can await the start of the adventure (October 29, 2021).
Doot
Situated deep within the Mana Wastes, the city of Alkenstar blends remarkable technology with a constant air of imminent danger. Haunted by deadly mutants and sitting between two competing wizard nations, the people of Alkenstar are protected by pistol-toting shieldmarshals and arquebus-wielding dwarven snipers.
Many of Alkenstar’s citizenry also carry their own personal firearms, whether that be a simple dwarven clan pistol or a more powerful gun, and rarely let their weapons stray far from their sides.
When the adventure begins, the time is 2 hours before sunset on a Fireday evening. For many people, this is the end of their workweek and the numerous restaurants, saloons, and gambling halls of Alkenstar’s entertainment districts are doing brisk business.
Tonight, you and your friends are drinking at the Powder Horn, a place favored by travelers, gamblers, drifters and actors from the theater across the dusty road. The broad-shouldered and somewhat burly half-elf bartender Martelle is briskly pouring drinks as the tavern fills up.
Zindarel always enjoys relaxing at the Powder Horn, as it is one of the few taverns in Alkenstar that serves sake. The imported rice wine reminds her of her distant homeland in Tian Xia.
The elven woman is tall and slender, her dark hair done up in a topknot and braids. Her green eyes almost seem to glow in the tavern's dim light. She reclines with her feet up as she sips her drink. Leaning against the wall within her reach is her elaborate firearm, a rare mithral tree that stands out among the more common dwarven firearms of the western world.
Zindarel remains quiet and pensive, allowing her more boisterous companions to do most of the talking.
Doc sits at a card table across from Booker. "Well, I think I might be buying the next round." She says sliding a few more SP into the pot.
Doc Featherton leans back in her chair, waiting for the others to play their hands. Her curly dark hair falling back, just past her shoulders. Her satchel, carrying medicinal components and extra rounds, hangs at her side.
Zakzak takes a gulp of his beer, and peers suspiciously from behind his hand of cards. He half-heartedly tries to sneak a peek at the hands on either side of him. Slung over his shoulder is some cobbled-up contraption that might charitably be called a firearm, with…are those spoons sticking out?
Suddenly he lights up, and pushes his remaining coins to the center of the table. ”All in!”, he declares proudly.
"Like your style." She smiles , "well Booker, what you gonna do"
As Booker adjusts his hat the small chair under his bulky frame creaks as though it's unsure it can hold his weight.
Remembering their last accommodations after gambling didn't go so well Booker shakes his head and places his cards silently down in front of himself, sliding them forward away from himself.
The voices are loud and boisterous in the Powder Horn as the desert heat slowly fades with the setting sun. The show in the theater across the road is about to let out and the saloon will become very crowded within a few minutes.
A man stumbles through the Powder Horn's main door, clutching at a gushing neck wound. A gurgling escapes his lips as he tumbles to the dusty floorboards.
Even as the man collapses, the door flies open again and a press of men and women dressed for the theater pile in with an awkward, shuffling gait. At first you take no notice of them but then you notice their vacant, staring eyes and the fetid stench of blood and excrement.
"What th....zombies!" the cry comes from somewhere in the bar as the patrons begin a panicked rush for the stairs leading to the upper floor.
As they rush for the possible safety of the upper floor, the burly bartender Martelle leaps over the countertop, a heavy length of wood in her hands. "The doors!" she shouts. "Clobber these blighters and bar the door or we're all done for!"
STATUS
Zindarel
Booker
Doc
Zakzak
Shambler Red
Shambler Orange
Shambler Yellow
Shambler Blue
Shambler Cyan
Shambler Magenta
Booker draws a large dwarven firearm in a singular motion before the call to arms is even finished, holding it between himself and the zombies.
Standing up with an uncommon grace given his large form Booker turns to aim at the yellow zombie and pulls the trigger, causing a loud bang and a dark plume of smoke to billow from his weapon
Mentally counting the number zombies Booker quickly works to reload.
Zindarel mutters a curse in Tien as she stands and draws her mithral tree. Sighting at the nearest zombie, she fires a shot!
She curses again as her bullet goes wide!
Booker lifts his huge dwarven scattergun as easily as a child's toy and blows a hole through the lead zombie's chest you could put your fist through! Although it would be enough to kill a normal man, the undead simply rocks backwards momentarily, but keeps on coming! The shot also pelts all those around it.
Zindarel rises in a graceful, smooth motion, bringing to bear her unusual weapon. Her shot goes wide, striking the interior wall of the saloon and blowing a hole in it near the ceiling.
STATUS
Zindarel
Booker
Doc
Zakzak
Shambler Red - 1 damage
Shambler Orange - 1 damage
Shambler Yellow - 14 damage
Shambler Blue - 1 damage
Shambler Cyan - 1 damage
Shambler Magenta - 1 damage
”Gah!”, Zakzak cries. His…whatever-the-hell-that-is is in his hands in a flash. Scampering up toward the zombies, he shoots from the hip. The report is higher and sharper than Booker’s, and followed by a brief whoosh as spoons, forks and swizzle sticks whirl through the air. He then grabs a handful of cutlery from a nearby table, and jams it into the muzzle.
The shambling undead make no effort to avoid the hail of cutlery and keep moving forward, impaled with all manner of tableware.
STATUS
Zindarel
Booker
Doc
Zakzak
Shambler Red - 2 damage
Shambler Orange - 2 damage
Shambler Yellow - 17 damage
Shambler Blue - 1 damage
Shambler Cyan - 2 damage
Shambler Magenta - 2 damage
"Guess we will never know who wins this round"
Doc heads Into the Fray, drawing both of her weapons, and moves toward the threat.
She will level both pistols at red and fire.
doubled to 8
additional
+1 splash 5'
Last action, she will reload her dueling pistol.
Doc's two weapons fire. The dueling pistol blows a hole into the lead zombie and the dragonmouth pistol shatters its head, killing it instantly!
The remaining five zombies shamble forward, arms outstretched, dripping with gore. Two try inartfully to seize Zakzak, but the wily goblin evades their grasp.
STATUS
Zindarel
Booker
Doc
Zakzak
Shambler Orange - 3 damage
Shambler Yellow - 18 damage
Shambler Blue - 1 damage
Shambler Cyan - 2 damage
Shambler Magenta - 2 damage
With a single low word Booker says "Duck" as he fires his dwarven scattergun at orange.
Booker then steps up and sweeps the legs out from under the blue zombie.
Doc does a stabs at magenta with her Bayonet and reloads her Dragon Mouth Pistol in one fluid motion.
piecing
She then fires her dueling pistol at point-blank range at magenta.
doubled
She then retreats back, leading the zombies through a gauntlet of chairs.
Dragon Mouth Pistol=19/20
Dueling Pistol 18/20
Zindarel reloads her weapon and fires it point-blank at the zombie beside her and Booker.
She then brings her long rifle across her body to ward off any oncoming blows.
Booker's dwarven hand cannon blows the head off one zombie in a gory shower of brains and skull. A piece of buckshot hits Zakzak in the posterior! The big Vudrani tries to kick the legs out from under another shambling theater-goer, but fails to land a solid blow.
Behind him, Zindarel's elvish weapon hums almost pleasantly as it accelerates a bullet through the chest of one bloodthirsty, sytlishly-dressed and recently departed Alkenstar matron.
Doc stabs a shambler, then fires her pistol at it point blank before retreating. The monster follows.
STATUS
Zindarel
Booker
Doc
Zakzak - 35/36 hp
Shambler Yellow - 19 damage
Shambler Blue - 9 damage
Shambler Cyan - 2 damage
Shambler Magenta - 11 damage
Zakzak glares over his shoulder at Doc. ”Hey, the game’s not OW MY BUTT!”
Turning back toward the zombies with a snarl, he unloads a cloud of cheap tin into the horde. Then he swings his empty gun toward the head of the one in front of him, before trying to bite its leg.
Zakzak pulls the trigger and his gun emits a loud SPROING! sound, hurling dozens of pieces of cutlery through the skull of the nattily-dressed and unfortunately dead gentlemen in front of him. Its head impaled, the zombie drops lifeless to the floor. Booker winds up with a fork wound to the shoulder!
Shifting targets, Zakzak bites the shapely ankle of the Alkenstar matron Zindarel has just shot. Given that she's freshly dead, it's not the worst thing Zakzak had tasted today.
As the screams continue from the street outside and muffled cries of horror emanate from the people watching from the stairs, the undead continue to surge forward. Booker manages to fend off the matronly zombie, but one elf with half its face bitten away lands a heavy blow against Zakzak's head.
STATUS
Zindarel
Booker - 37/38 hp
Doc
Zakzak - 19/36 hp
Shambler Blue - 13 damage
Shambler Cyan - 2 damage
Shambler Magenta - 12 damage
Zindarel shifts her aim to the zombie that struck Zakzak. She reloads, fires, then reloads once more.
Doc reloads her dueling pistol and the fires at Magenta.
doubled
And follows up with a shot from her Dragon Mouth Pistol.
piercing +1 5' splash
Dragon Mouth Pistol=18/20
Dueling Pistol 17/20
Both guns Empty
Doc stares down the blue zombie
before slamming the but of his gun into the blue zombie.
If still up Doc will go for another trip now that it's flanked.
Zindarel's shot hits her target in the leg, causing it to jerk. Doc's bullet strikes the shoulder of her target, but the dragon mouth pistol's aim is off and it fills the far with lead.
Between Booker and Zakzak, they finish off the lone zombie on that side of the room, though it seemed to have no fear of Booker before its very timely demise.
The elf with the ruined face turns to shamble after Booker, slamming the side of his head with a fist while a young girl with vacant eyes and a bloody teddy bear comes after Doc! Her little hands fail to grab onto the Garundi gunslinger, but just barely.
STATUS
Zindarel
Booker - 29/38 hp
Doc
Zakzak - 19/36 hp
Shambler Cyan - 7 damage
Shambler Magenta - 15 damage
Doc smashes the butt of her Dragon Mouth Pistol into the undead in front of her and reloads her dueling pistol.
Bludgeoning
She then moves away before firing her dueling pistol
doubled
Dragon Mouth Pistol=18/20
Dueling Pistol 16/20
Both guns Empty
Booker moves around and shuts the front door before slamming cyan twice.
Zindarel shoots at the zombies, reloads, and shoots once more!
As the echoes of the shots fade away, nothing unliving is still moving, and the only sound is the roar of zombies outside and the whimpering of frightened people upstairs.
Martelle dashes forward and drops the bar across the front door, sealing it. Almost immediately thereafter, the door rattles and you can hear the moaning of many throats and the scratching of many fingers on the walls.
Martelle regards you with an appraising eye. "Good job. We ought to get upstairs so we can get a view and see what the hell is happening for ourselves." She dashes towards the stairs.
Zindarel sighs at the goblin’s skewed priorities. ”We’ve no time for games. Heed Martelle’s advice—upstairs! Mind your step, Zakzak.”
The elf moves to follow the burly bartender.
Doc reloads each of her pistols before returning them to their holsters and follows them upstairs.
She looks over the Goblin, "Once we get up there, let me clean you up"
Booker ignores the card game and heads upstairs.
A wide, open area provides additional seating for patrons of the bar. A waist-high railing surrounds a ten-foot-by-tenfoot opening to the bar below, and each of the room’s walls sport a pair of large windows overlooking the street and alleys below.
The second floor of the Powder Horn is packed with worried patrons, most of whom are crowded around the northern windows overlooking the street. From here, it’s clear that zombies are shambling out of the Aldivur Company Theater House before spreading to the rest of the city. Zombies shamble about the town square and main road below. Across the street is a small market catering to the patrons of the district. Just west of the market is the home of the man who runs the playhouse, which also serves as a storage facility for the theater, and west of that lies the theater itself. On this side of the street, a 20-foot‑wide alley separates the Powder Horn from an adjacent two-story building.
Martelle beckons you over.
“So here’s the deal,” she begins. “You all clearly have more fight and experience in you than most of the folks out this way, you’re a bit more smartly armed, and who knows what to expect of the guard. We could wait things out, see what happens, but it’s not exactly like the number of zombies out there is shrinking. If we don’t put a stop to this now, the whole city could be overrun. So here’s what I’m proposing—you lot head to the theater house and see if you can’t figure out where all these zombies are coming from. Put a stop to them if you can or come back and let us know if you can’t. You put an end to this mess and you’ve got free drinks for life here at the Powder Horn. I’m pretty sure any of the rest of us that survive can probably scrape together a purse for you if the city doesn’t pay out a reward. Deal?”
"Sounds a bit more profitable than what I am use to" She says as she tends to Zakzak.
The goblin twitches causing Doc to accidently tears a stitch, causing a bit more blood to flow. "Ah hell. Can't seem to get it"
"Booker, How are you feeling?" She asks moving over to look over his wounds. "You mind?"
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Booker nods "Better than some." as he takes off his shirt, revealing several minor wounds on his muscular arms and shoulders.
Taking Doc's agreement as everyone's agreement, Martelle continues.
“Way I see it, you’ve got two paths forward. The first one is that you make a break for the house across the square. It’s owned by Aldivur, the theater’s operator, and is also used to store costumes and props from the theater. You should be able to lock it up from the inside, keep the zombies out while you look for anything useful. The other is maybe a bit trickier, but also safer.”
Martelle gestures to the window along the west wall. “That clothesline is bolted in pretty good, and the Thuss’s are good folks. If you can shimmy across there without falling into the alley, they might be able to help you out some. Rickard is a gunsmith and is likely to have some extra ammo on hand, maybe even some weapons. If you fall off the line, you can still make a break for Aldivur’s house, and if you get in there, well, they’re closer to the theater than we are, so maybe they’ll have an idea on what your best next move is. Whaddaya think?”
"I vote the clothesline. I'll go last and cover you. Just try not to fall!" Zindarel says. She offers Zakzak one of her minor healing potions, then she rests her mithral tree on the windowsill, ready to snipe anything that might try to attack her allies.
Doc goes to work on Booker.
"All patched up bug guy"
"So all patched up and ready to go...what about a clothesline?"
After considering the options. "Clothesline sounds good to me.
Booker nods, knowing that the best way to get through Doc's schemes is to nod early and nod often.
The second floor of the Powder Horn is connected to the building to the west—a small gunsmithy with an upstairs apartment—by a permanent clothesline fixture. A thick length of hemp rope stretches 20 feet above the alley below in a loop between iron pulleys secured to the buildings’ outer walls with thick metal bolts. The window of the opposite building, Rickard’s Gunnery & Sales, is unshuttered and surrounded by a small garden box that looks sturdy enough to support a grown human.
Doc looks over the edge. Turning to look at her compatriots, she gives a salute and heads off.