Welcome to the shadow-cursed city of Westcrown.
Formerly the capital city of Cheliax, now a neglected urban sprawl spiralling into lawlessness and ruin.
By day, squads of corrupt Dottari patrol the streets, dishing out savage beatings in the name of justice, or demanding steep bribes from hard-working folk who can scarcely afford to feed their own kin. By night, murderous shadow beasts haunt the darkened streets, leaving naught but blood and screams of those foolhardy enough to venture out after curfew.
While most decent folk bar their doors and wait for sunrise, their are always those who defy the darkness and strive toward a brighter future for Westcrown. One such group is meeting tonight, behind the shuttered windows of a derelict tavern. Lamplight dances along racks of dusty bottles behind the unattended bar.
You are part of this group, meeting in secret after curfew to engage in a treasonous plot against Westcrown's corrupt leaders.
A slender woman with short red hair and a rapier strapped to her hip greets you at the door and hastily ushers you inside.
"Thankyou for coming," she says, once everyone has arrived, "My name is Janiven Keys and I represent the Children of Westcrown. You were invited to this little get-together for one reason, each of you has suffered as a result of the curse upon this city. Fear should not be an expected part of everyday life. Other lands live free of tyranny. Other cities do not fear the night. Westcrown was once such a place, and she can be again! Westcrown is more than its buildings and canals, its docks and history - she is also her people! If we can win the hearts of those people, we can reclaim our streets and finally be free of the Thrice-Damned House of Thrune!
What say you all, will you stand with Children of Westcrown in this, our cities darkest hour?"
A young, average-looking woman with long black hair and wearing a simple robe over leather armor stands up and says "I have experienced first-hand the brutalities that the town guard inflict on the townspeople. I have vowed to do whatever is required to clean up this town and make it safe for everyone. Tell me what you need me to do, and I'll do it."
Sobok is an average sized lizardman with dark scales. He is wearing stiff leathers made from alligator hides. A shield is strapped to his back and a warhammer hangs from his belt.
He nods as the young woman replies to Janiven and says, "I am Sobok. There are few of my people in this city and so those of us who are here tend to be treated very poorly. It would be good to see the cruelty of this city ended."
Janiven nods sympathetically at your words.
"The Dottari are little better than brigands, but they carry out their petty thuggery in the name of Lord Mayor Aberian Arvanxi. A more spiteful and incompetent man, you will struggle to find across all the Inner Sea. Taxes have risen considerably during his tenure, yet no improvements have been made to public services. Instead, he squanders exorbitant sums satisfying his own debased fetishes, up at that eyesore of a mansion in the Rego Sacero."
Janiven pauses to spit on the floorboards, in a most unladylike display.
"We will have to do something about Arvanxi eventually, but right now our priority is gaining the support of the citizenry. Without the love of the people, we can't hope to challenge the might of House Thrune. Fortunately, since Queen Abrogail moved her court to Egorian, the powers that be seem content to ignore Westcrown and let the city slide into ruin. As long as we don't cause too much trouble, it's unlikely that the Lord Mayor will be able to call on reinforcements from the capital."
Eoin is a tall, lanky, black haired man standing near one of the walls of the tavern while Janiven speaks. While she and the others are speaking, Eoin is gripping his brother's wayfinder under his cloak.
This is crazy, he thinks to himself, you don't even know them! You could be in a Westcrown dungeon before the sun rises if you trust these strangers!
He shakes his head as he finally makes up his mind. He steps forward and says, "I am with you. I am not from this place, but I fear that my brother has fallen into the hands of this evil House of Thrune. Whatever I can do to help...I will."
Sobok nods a greeting to Eoin and then asks Janiven, "How could we win over the citizens? The city is sprawling and trust about its people is not great."
"Give me the details later, and I'll have my people look into your brother's whereabouts and wellbeing. If there is anything we can do to get him out of Thrune's clutches, rest assured we will do it."
"To earn the support of the citizenry, we must do what Mayor Arvanxi and his Dottari do not. We must listen to the concerns of the common man and work to rectify them. We must feed those who cannot afford to eat. We must shelter those living rough amid the ruins of the Rego Cader. We must reclaim our nights from the prowling horrors that hunt in the dark-"
Suddenly, the front door reverberates with the sound of loud, determined knocking from the street, interrupting Janiven mid-speech.
"In the name of Her Infernal Majestrix, open this door at once!" commands a gruff, male voice.
"S#&!!" Janiven curses, whipping out her rapier, "Well, that cuts the meeting short, I'm afraid. We need a way out of here, before we all get arrested for treason.... Any ideas? Think of this as on the job training."
"What rebellion leader doesn't check for all points of exit when planning a meeting? This is a tavern, there should be a back door in the kitchen behind this dining room. I'll go check."
MWG runs quietly from the dining area, behind the bar, and into whatever room is behind. She finds...???
"Hey, this is my first rebellion!" Janiven protests, "I'm learning too. Back door, good idea!"
Behind the bar counter, a wooden door opens into a dirty, disused kitchen. The cupboards are bare and most of the fittings have been torn out altogether, leaving conspicuous bare patches along the walls. Despite the fact the tavern has been closed up for months, the greasy/burnt smell of bad cooking lingers in the dusty air.
There is a back door exiting into the alley behind the tavern. The door is currently closed and locked. There is a long nail protruding from the doorframe. If the key ever hung there, it is gone now. A small, grimy window beside the door looks out into the dark alleyway.
The banging on the front door intensifies, as whoever it is knocking rapidly runs out of patience. Moments later, there is a loud thump, and the door shudders, as someone applies their boot to the other side.
Sobok grabs a chair and follows the others as they move into the kitchen. He then looks to find a way to brace the chair against the door.
Before following MWG into the kitchen, Sobok braces the front door (facing the street) with a chair. It won't keep them (whoever they are) out for long, but you figure you've bought yourself a little time.
As Sobok enters the kitchen , your eyes are immediately drawn to a trapdoor in one corner, partially obstructed by the remnants of a broken table and assorted shards of shattered crockery.
A young woman had stood, as if maybe she would speak and was waiting for the right time, or maybe she was nervous about doing so. But, the pounding on the door cuts off her opportunity.
She is young, quite young perhaps, pretty and compact, both rather short and slender. Her hair is dark, almost black, and falls nearly to her waist. Her dark hair and eyes, along with her pale skin, marks her as typically Chelaxian. Her clothes suggest she's either not particularly prosperous or, less likely, slumming it.
If she hesitated to speak though, she doesn't in reacting to the pounding. She immediately begins looking for a good alternate way out. She quickly spots a trap door in the kitchen and says so. "There! There's a trapdoor in the floor!" Feeling hopeful she adds "anyone know where it goes?"
"No, but its better then being on the streets right now." Sobok finishes and then rushes to the trap door and tries to pull it open.
The trapdoor is heavy, the hinges gnarled with rust. With a grunt, Sobok manages to force it open. A foul smell rises up from the dark opening in the kitchen floor, causing you to gag.
Janiven follows you through to the kitchen, occasionally glancing over her shoulder, back into the taproom. For now, the chair Sobok used to bar the front entrance continues to hold....
"What now?" she asks, "Out the back, or through the trapdoor?"
Sanchia is nervous, too nervous to make a quick decision.
"If the dottari have the slightest idea about what they're doing, they will have the back door covered as well. If the trapdoor leads to a cellar with no other exit, it'll be an awfully short trip before we're trapped like rats."
Sanchia decides to see what she can do about the lock on the back door. They ought to have at least two bad choices available.
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The lock is old and of poor quality, Sanchia is able to coax it open in a matter of seconds.
Eoin hurriedly stuffs the wayfinder in his backpack as he follows the others.
"I'll bet they have all the doors covered. I say we take our chances with the trap door."
"No one is trying to break open the back door and it is open. Lets leave the trapdoor open and close the back door after we make a break for it." Sobok says in the hopes that it would be a good red herring for the oncoming Dottari guard.
"I would have the back door covered if I were in their position. If we go down the trapdoor, they might not notice it and give us time to find a way out of the cellar."
Tired of bruising their shoulders, some clever sod has produced a hatchet. You all hear the sound of splintering wood from the common room, as the front door buckles and breaks open. The chair blocking the doorway is kicked aside. You hear the clomp of heavy footfalls across rotting floorboards, as what sounds like a half dozen armed Dottari spill in off the dark street and begin (loudly and ineffectually) searching the building.
Sanchia looks around the kitchen quickly for something that might help disguise the trap door, a small crate or similar would be perfect, something light and easy to move.
"I don't think they're that dumb, it has to be the trapdoor. Everyone inside, quickly!"
Eoin looks around too before joining Sanchia through the trapdoor.
The kitchen has been ransacked, anything light and easy to move has already been removed by looters.
You drop into inky blackness. What little light from the trapdoor above you does little to illuminate your surroundings. Water splashes underfoot as you drop into the cellar. The smell down here is absolutely rank .
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Sobok whispers, "This smells like the sewer and there is water in here. There must be a way into the sewer. Can anyone see well enough to find it?"
Eoin lights one of his torches to get a better look in the darkness. He looks around for any passages that lead out of the cellar.
Now...which way could the sewer be?, he thinks.
As Sanchia's eyes quickly grow accustomed to the gloom, you see that the cellar is awash with several inches of greasy, grey sewer water. A large, dead rat, it's body swollen with decay, bobs merrily on the surface of the water, as your movement kicks up little waves. A dozen untapped barrels are stacked against one wall. A rack of dusty bottles leans up against another wall. You see steep steps leading up to another trapdoor, most likely exiting into the alley behind the tavern, which you imagine was used for deliveries when the tavern was still in business. The trapdoor is chained shut from this side, secured with a big, rusty padlock.
By the light of your torch, Eoin is able to identify that the sewer water is seeping between the loose brickwork in the wall behind the rack of bottles.
Janiven drops into the cellar beside you, grimacing as her boots immediately fill with cold, slimy water. Her eyes widen as she notices Eoin consulting his Wayfinder.
"Where did you get that?"
"Could it be a secret door? Or do we have to force out the loose bricks?" Sobok asks as he looks to see if there is a way to move the wall without breaking it.
Your examination of the wall reveals no secret switch or hidden hinge, it appears to be a solid brick wall, albeit one that has already started to collapse. You do notice a slight discoloration to the bricks behind the wine rack, as though there was once an entrance to the sewers here, that someone has hastily and inexpertly sealed off.
As Sobok begins pulling bricks out the wall, the stench of untreated effluent immediately grows stronger. Part of the weakened wall suddenly collapses, revealing a long, dark tunnel that stretches off beneath the city streets.
At the same moment, a uniformed figure appears above you, framed in the open trapdoor to the kitchen. He is clutching a heavy cudgel and wears leather armour beneath a crimson tabard depicting the Eye of Aroden (dead god of humanity).
"They're here! They're trapped in the cellar!"
Sobok jumps through the wall and motions for the rest to come through and head down the tunnel. "Move quickly!"
MWG had followed the others into the cellar before the door was bashed in, and follows Sobok without hesitation. Her eyes allow her to see clearly even without the dim light of the torch.
The sewer tunnels are worked stone, generally 5ft tall and 10ft wide, with a 3ft deep trench for sewage taking up the centre of the passage. The walkways to either side of the trench are made treacherous by a thick coating of glistening scum. Water constantly drips from the low ceiling.
Sobok's sensitive lizard nose has trouble with the smell and he gags as he staggers after the others down the tunnel.
Sanchia had expected something very different down in the cellar. If tere was a way out, she figured it would be through a connection tunnel to another cellar. These were a feature of the black market economy and smuggling around the city.
When she plops into the water below and realizes why, it's all she can do to keep her gorge from rising to overflow. Tears leak from her eyes in disgust.
She doesn't move from her spot (unless there's a drier one) until the Asmodean above spurs her through the newly broken wall. She exhales a low, miserable moan as she goes.
"Oh my!", Eoin says as he covers his mouth and nose with a hand.
The tunnel continues straight on for a few hundred metres, before reaching a junction, where three channels of sluggishly flowing sewage meet.
To your rear, the tunnel leads back to the basement of the abandoned tavern. You can see torches bobbing in the foetid darkness as the Dottari follow you down into the sewers. You hear a curse - then a splash, as one member of the pursuing goon squad slips on a patch of greasy slime and falls into the trench.
"There's no escape!" the Dottari yell, "Don't make us chase you! We don't want to be down here any more than you do!"
To your left, another tunnel leads off under the city. You can see a faint, blue glow pulsing in that direction.
To your right, a third tunnel extends in the opposite direction. You can hear a faint - but regular - rumbling sound coming from that direction.
Even with Eoin's Wayfinder, navigating the labyrinthine sewer system is going to be difficult. Hopefully, you can find a way back up onto the street, before the pursuing Dottari catch up with you.
"Which way now?" Janiven asks, covering her mouth, for all the good that does against the stench, "I know a safe place where we can lay low in the Rego Sacero; an old temple the Children of Westcrown use as a base of operations. Our leader will be there, I'm sure he'll want to meet all of you."
MWG stoically tries to endure the stench of the tunnel :
And manages to keep her stomach in check.
"Does anyone know what direction Rego Sacero is from the tavern? That might help us choose left or right."
= 10, a Raise
"Hmmm...now that I think about it, I think we should go..."
"The rumbling sound does not seem like a good thing. The light may be a sign of a way out. Once we are on the surface it will be easier to find a safe haven." Sobok suggests.
Sanchia tries to get ahold of herself better now there's a decision that must be made.
Sewers are built to carry things away, so...
She looks at the water flow, trying to see if there are any differences in the speed of the currents in the different tunnels. She also tries to notice any slope in the sewer itself.
"The sewers should empty toward the river, or at least the sea. Is Rego Sacero uphill or downhill from this part of the city?"
The sewage seems to be flowing in the direction of the right-hand tunnel.
Also, the pursuing Dottari are getting closer....
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"We need to be going up, against the water flow to get where we're going. We take the left tunnel" Sanchia tells everyone in an urgent whisper. She's beginning to worry that tunnel echoes might carry her voice to the pursuing dottari as they get closer. She also stops using the words 'Rego Sacero' just in case.
Sanchia doesn't wait for a vote or discussion. She goes on into the left tunnel, focusing on figuring out what the light ahead might be as she moves forward.
Can't be daylight at this hour...
Sobok motions everyone after Sanchia and then follows at the rear of the group.
Sanchia proceeds along the left-hand tunnel, attempting (unsuccessfully) to move with stealth. The pulsing light grows brighter as you continue, and soon you are able to make out the source. Up ahead, the floor of the tunnel (on both sides of the sewage channel) is covered with tiny, glowing jellies. The jellies quiver and pulse with a variety of different colours, almost as though they are somehow reacting to your presence.