Eva gives Lora a mischievous smile before whispering to her. "They... open."
Crystal snorts. "Never figured I'd be doin' the Duchess' work. Might explain the sorry state of the shieldmarshals if folk like us are who she'd rather have in her employ."
Lora laughs with delighted eyes. "Ah, mine rarely take spirits to have that problem. Hence some of my... difficulties in life." the sides of her mouth dip down a moment in remembered weariness, but she banishes it with another drink. Turning away from the bar, and the temptation of a fourth shot, she looks to Crystal "I think we are exactly what the city needs. Plenty of knowledge of how the underbelly works, coupled with a firm understanding of what is important." she leaves what that understanding is vague, of course, since each one of them is rather different she'd imagine. Better to FEEL like they are on the same page than know they are Night and Day.
Despite her confidence, she is rather uncertain about the entire prospect and secretly thinks they will all end up dead or in the cell in a week's time, but better try and fail than curl up and just get beaten.
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Royken nods at Crystal, giving off a noncommittal grunt that feels like agreement.
He doesn't acknowledge Lora and Eva's flirtations. If they want to play diamonds and chisels, more power to them, as long as they leave him out of it.
Crystal nods at Lora before she purses her lips.
"Speaking of knowledge, I reckon I owe you an explanation for why songs and prayers don't heal me but oil does."
Lora's eyes light up again and she nods, "It might help us work together, knowing what helps and hinders each and everyone of us." Lora slips in sense, but in truth KNOWING is what she's into more than helping.
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"Well..." Crystal leans back in her chair and pulls her lips back in a smile.
Her teeth are all impeccably white--but her canines are wickedly sharp, to needle-like points.
"...short story is I'm what most 'respectable' folk call a dhampir." Crystal says, pronouncing it 'dam-phir'. "Not dam-peer, like what you'd say to a particularly rickety wharf."
Lora cocks her head to the side, a clear indicator that she is thinking. Her mouth opens in slight surprise when her synapsis fires "Oh! A vampire's offspring?" her voice is awed more than worried.
The albino sighs. "...yeah."
"Sometimes, when feeding, a vampire'll have an attack of remorse--as I understand it, my Pa did when he was feeding on my Ma. I guess he tasted something different about her and it just about drove him to tears." She continues, her tone dry. "Couldn't bring himself to kill her."
"So he kept her... 'least until she bore me. I probably saved him the trouble of killing her himself." She stops, her eyes hardening and searching for the nearest container of alcohol.
Lora turns back, pushing the bottle nearest to her toward Crystal "Families" she says simply in sympathy, with a deep dread in her voice. After Crystal takes a swig, she asks questions, not about her family, cause that would be dumb, though she is curious, but about her "Abilities? Or more important, that liquid you poured on your face, healed you while my magic couldn't... why is that?" she is interested, not only because it is knowledge she doesn't have, but because "Knowing why might let me figure a way around it so we could get you healed without a crazy goblin's weird potions to help out."
Crystal takes a big swig from the bottle and sets it on the table.
"That 'liquid', if you can call it that, is what's called an 'oil of unlife'. Black as death and half as cold, if you can believe that. It's what knits undead bones and flesh back together--normal healing spells can only harm them." The dhampir explains. "Something about 'positive energy' being what's responsible for all that. Presumably, oils of unlife are the opposite of that."
"I get the impression that clergymen talk about a different sort of 'positive energy' when they say that. If good feelings were all that kept undead away, it's a miracle Alkenstar hasn't been overrun by now."
Lora laughs at that before she gets that thinking look on her pretty face again. "Hmmm... 'positive' energy. Makes sense, since it couldn't be just Godly healing, since there is nothing Divine about my magic. It is rather Uplifting though, so maybe..." the redhead smiles again, pausing to percolate her thoughts. "I'll ask around, to those sources that will still talk to me, about how to circumvent our impasse. For something, at least, cause I doubt we'll be buttering toast and serving tea for the dead Duchess. No safe calm life for the wicked, no not one bit."
"Fuuuuck," Royken says sympathetically. He awkwardly pats Crystal on the back. "F!$*ing parents."
He pauses for a beat.
"You're not thinking of f!*+ing eating us, right?"
"...well, Pa really." Crystal gives Royken a bit of a thankful look.
"And no, I'm not going to eat you." She shakes her head. "Though if my Pa were here to listen to your language, he'd have you flayed to the bone within the hour." She remarks with a dry, sardonic tone before chasing it with another swig of alcohol.
"He's a 'prim and proper moroi', he liked to call himself." Crystal's usual Alkenstari drawl abruptly turns into a heavy Gebbite accent when she pronounces 'moroi'. "Doesn't care for cusswords in his household."
Eva stays out of the conversation about family, since she had nothing to complain about her parents. "I might be able to help with the healing, if herbs and stuff would work on you... it is a bit experimental though."
The next four days pass quickly, as you spend your hard-earned coin and prepare for your next mission. When you are ready, you reconvene in the Bullet & Barrel's back room. Foebe Dusmith paces as she talks. She’s animated and enthusiastic, clearly firing on all cylinders and still reveling in the success of the Gold Tank Reserve heist.
“For this next job,” Dunsmith says, “the duchess has asked us to secure some very precious cargo.” She slides a broadsheet across the table: a poster advertising “Vashon Gattlebee’s Pyronite Exhibition” at Blythir College. The poster includes a woodprint of a harried human man in his fifties—presumably Gattlebee—and some hyperbolic copy promoting the “once-in-a-lifetime explosive showcase.”
“We talked about Gattlebee a bit before,” Dunsmith says. “Talk of the town ever since he leveled half of Blythir’s largest auditorium. Well, Gattlebee’s invention has gotten him a lot of admirers recently. Everyone in Alkenstar wants a piece of the man, or at least a piece of his new invention. Thankfully for us, Gattlebee’s turned down everyone who’s offered to hire him on or buy the pyronite formula from him. He’s been able to hold off his prospectors from the safety of his own home so far, but he can’t hold down that puny brick‑and‑mortar fortress forever.
“Fortunately, the grand duchess and I have managed to convince Gattlebee he’d be better off here, in the saloon’s workshop, where no one will know his location. He’s game, and now we just need to get him from point A to point B.
“That’s where you come in. We need you to meet Gattlebee at his home on the other side of the city and bring him back to the Barrel & Bullet. Once he’s here, I can keep him safe. Simple enough job, right? Go get Gattlebee and bring him back here. I’m paying you fifty gold apiece to bring him back in one piece.”
She looks at Royken. "You asked earlier what the Grand Duchess's interest is in all of this. Well, honestly, she wants to bury this pyronite. Having that stuff out in the world is just too dangerous. If it falls into the wrong hands, a whole lot of people are going to get hurt. Gattlebee’s been too wrapped up in the work itself to see how much potential his invention has to destroy lives. Thankfully, that’s the same reason why he hasn’t sold it; he cares more about getting pyronite right than making a profit. The best thing we can do is get Gattlebee somewhere safe so he can continue his research well away from anyone who wants to steal it.”
Foebe pinches the bridge of her nose like she’s just remembered something unpleasant. “Oh yeah. As part of our arrangement, Gattlebee made us promise that he’d be able to make a stop along the way here. Near Ironside Quarter at some abandoned brewery. Got me why, but that’s the deal: stop at a place called ‘Yeast of All Brewery’ once you’ve got Gattlebee. Besides, it might be a good place to lay low if you need to catch your breath.
“Anyway. We don’t have much time to get this done. Mugland and Loveless are likely to make a grab for Gattlebee soon. Mugland’s been moving money around and paying off some shady folk. By my estimations, we have about four more days to get to Gattlebee before our cargo is compromised.
“Be ready for Mugland’s mercenaries, Loveless’s street gangs, or anyone else under our rivals’ thumbs.” Dunsmith pulls a rolled-up map of Alkenstar from a nearby shelf and unfurls it across table. “You should scout your route before you pick up Gattlebee, just to make sure it’s safe.” She then removes her cameo brooch and sets it on top of the map. “Show this to Gattlebee so he knows you’re working for me.”
"I might be able to help with the healing, if herbs and stuff would work on you... it is a bit experimental though."
"I mean, as long as it doesn't involve 'positive energy', I reckon it'll heal me..." Crystal shrugs. "...can't say I've had time to experiment in that regard myself."
As the celebrations starts to walk to the end, Eva approaches Lora. "So, how about we bring this celebration to my room? I have some tricks to show you that I have a feeling you'll really enjoy."
Eva works on her own version blast boots.
Eva frowns at the notion of this "simple job", since it was clear it was not simple as Foebe was stating, otherwise their help would not be required, nor the payment would be so high. "Simple as that, uh?"
Royken grunts. What the f~$#'s wrong with my language?!
Royken growls. Sure, it sounds simple, but these things rarely are. Especially if they're offering 50 gold to do it. That's a sure sign things are likely to go coal-shaped. And probably pretty quickly.
"Anything you can tell us about these gangs?"
Foebe shrugs. "All sorts of lowlifes call that area home. Not sure who, exactly, will be on Mugland's payroll. Maybe you can learn more during your scouting."
Royken gives his "fine" grunt in response.
Grrr.
Lora appraises Eva's invitation. Interest swims in her already liquor filled eyes. After a moment she quirks her lips, and admits "I don't normally dip into the same pool I work with... emotions dirty the waters." she taps her chin in thought "But we are officially between jobs... so..." coming to a decision, she leans close in and she says with a heady mirth "Take me to this room of yours, Miss Braeton, and show a few of these tricks of yours. For the sake of learning, of course."
After a rather pleasant night, and a slightly head-splitting morning to recover, Lora spends her days with Foebe Dusmith, learning other kinds of tricks. She even had to admit her pride in her ability to lie pales in comparison to the lead agent.
Leaning over the table to look at the broadsheet, Lora says "Rescuing a fine citizen from danger... we really are the good guys now." she shakes her head, the red has faded to a more strawberry blonde at this point.
"Is it okay to investigate Yeast of all Brewery to hopefully find out Why he wants to make this stop? It is a complication, and knowing as much about the complication, could make it go more smoothly."
"Sure, knock yourself out," Foebe says with a grin.
Lora leans back, content with the answer. She crosses her arms, "That, I'll do, boss. That, I'll do."
Dunsmith suggested the party use some of their downtime to scout the best route from Gattlebee’s house to the Barrel & Bullet. Otherwise, they’re free to spend their downtime as they wish.
SCOUTING A ROUTE
Each character can spend some or all of their downtime casing the streets of Alkenstar. To Scout a Route, a character can use the following downtime activity.
SCOUT A ROUTE
DOWNTIME
You spend half a day scouting a route from Vashon Gattlebee’s house to the Barrel & Bullet Saloon. Roll a DC 15 Athletics, Perception, Society, or Survival check.
Critical Success: You climb to a great vantage point, spot noteworthy details, learn interesting info from locals, or find useful clues related to your escort route. You earn 2 Preparation Points.
Success: You earn 1 Preparation Point.
Failure: You fail to discover any useful information about the route.
Crafting: The workshop called the Bulletworks in the Barrel & Bullet has basic tools for crafting most equipment, including tools necessary for gunsmithing and a small but adequate alchemist’s lab. Dunsmith can send runners to pick up any inexpensive raw materials the characters need.
Gathering Information: The Barrel & Bullet is full of chatty patrons willing to blab about the latest in Alkenstar. A character can attempt a DC 15 Diplomacy check to Gather Information up to twice per day. Characters who come up with creative means of learning rumors can use a different skill for these checks; for example, a character who leads their fellow bar-goers in a shanty can use Performance, a character who tends bar under Dunsmith’s direction can use Crafting, and so on.
The conversation apparently over, Royken looks everyone over, gives a noncommittal grunt, and says, "I'll be back." He then turns and walks out of the bar.
"Hmm... I do imagine we all have our own ways, so I'll be off as well. How about we meet back her at... nine?" The secrets gatherer then hurries out of the bar to catch up with Royken "Are you good with meeting back here tonight to share information?" she asks him, adding "Accepting death or dismemberment as the only reasons to miss our date?" she flashes him a small smile.
Then the young woman does what this young woman does best. Banter, encourage, pout, and flirt rumors and secrets out of the young and old. For two days, she does this. A wandering chatter box, making sure to check in every night with her 'team'
Crystal starts scouting out a route alongside Royken.
Royken spends his time moving around as he scopes out the route. He's here, he's there, he's every-f$~&ing-where. Finally, Royken returns to the bar, and grunts. "Found out some shit," he mutters, and proceeds to tell the others what we've found with little embellishment, other than the frequent swears.
Eva smiles as she guides Lora into her room and as soon as she closes the door, she removes her breastplate with clear relief. Lora could easily see that Eva's poor girls were not happy inside the armor. She then gives Lora to her bed, kissing her mouth and neck before showing her her metal hand. "Now, this is cool..." She says as flips a switch inside her arm, which causes her middle finger to vibrate...
Since she can't actually spend much time outside because of the prize in her head, Eva instead tries to recall everything she can about the establishments, alleys, gangs...
Lora hears all sorts of rumors and bits of conversation:
• “Alchemists all over town are trying to duplicate Gattlebee’s results, but most are just blowing up their own labs. I heard one of them burned down their entire building! If they had any brains at all, they’d just buy Gattlebee a pint and get him to spill the beans of his own formula!”
• “A group of gnolls was arrested just outside town, in a junkyard. Apparently, they had lots of shackles and fetters; horrible to think they were torturing and murdering folks there. That kind of crime doesn’t happen in Alkenstar!”
• “‘Hearts at High Noon’ concludes next week! Have you been following the show? I wonder who Sheriff Longtusk ends up with.”
• “Another shipment lost! That Powderkeg Punks gang is out of control. They didn’t even steal my shipment, they just blew it up! For fun! What kind of miscreants... did you know they snort black powder?”
• “Ugh. The shieldmarshals shut down my shop again. I don’t sell anything edible; I don’t know why rats would be a problem.”
• “One more payment... One more! That’s what Mugland’s goons said last week. ‘Compounding interest,’ they says. I’ll never dig my way out of this hole.”
***
After two days of scouting, you have managed to learn a bit about the route:
• Gattlebee’s house sits away from the road, amid an overgrown yard full of sedum: sticky, bushy flowers. A small shed sits in front of the house, facing away from the road. The property is enclosed in a chicken-wire fence.
• The Yeast of All Brewery looks like it’s been out of business for a while. All the windows are boarded up from inside, and the doors are locked.
• The best place to cross the Ustradi River is an old stone bridge that many locals call Bottleneck Bridge. Vendors set up tents and wheel in carts to trade here during the day. At night, the shieldmarshals set up a checkpoint on the bridge to reduce smuggling.
"Sounds like we should go during the day if we want to avoid the powder-sniffing shieldmarshals at Bottleneck Bridge," Royken growls. "I say we do this tomorrow."
"Everyone expects clandestine activities during the night anyway. We should use our hats on Mr. Gattlebee though." Lora thinks aloud.
Lora slips on her hat to become a fluff of something else, buys bag of peanuts and walks the route, trying to see all that one can.
By the second day, her eyes are rebelling having to see the SAME things over and over. She spends too much time chatting, and looking at people's clothes than what she is supposed to.
"The sedum is poisonous, by the way." She comments, when they share what they have got so far.
"I wasn't planning to stop for a f#!~ing salad on the way," Royken notes.
Since the others don't see to be ready, he turns without another word to continue scouting the route.
Annoyed that no one else was ready when he was, Royken throws himself into the work, eyes peeled for anything that can be helpful.
You spend two more days scouting the route to make sure you are absolutely prepared. Some nearby shops along Bottleneck Bridge are undergoing renovations and would be perfect hiding spots for an ambush. An anonymous tip to the shieldmarshals should get those sites shut down for investigation, removing them as options for anybody trying to stop you.
You also notice several back alleys and side streets that would provide alternate routes should you need to make a quick escape.
Once you are fully prepared, you make your way to Vashon Gattlebee's Steamhaven residence. A chicken-wire fence contains a small lot overgrown
with weeds and bushy flowers. A small gate separates the southern end of the lot from the street. A rusted lock hangs uselessly from the gate, serving only to keep it from swinging open in the wind.
Beyond the gate, the foliage-choked yard is broken up by large stepping stones, a small shed, and a dilapidated house to the north.
As Royken gets close, he considers the hat. But it only lasts an hour, so in the end he just growls and mutters "F+*&!" to himself.
"Let's get this over with " he mutters to the others, keeping his gun stowed on his back. They don't want to attract any additional attention. He looks around before approaching the door -- avoiding the poisonous plant -- then impatiently knocks exactly three times.
Royken doesn't get far. As he opens the gate in the fence, a tripwire snaps, releasing a thunderstone that begins to fall to the ground!
"F&#!!" Royken growls as he catches the stone, pocketing it. "F*&*ing kobold-lover is going to get us killed before we can save him!"
He continues toward the door, but more carefully.
Crystal follows Royken, keeping as alert for traps as she can.
In response to Royken's loud swearing, a deadpan voice calls from inside the house: "No solicitors." The man inside doesn't respond to any other attempts to speak to him.
Royken and Crystal cautiously study the path ahead. Their caution proves prudent, as Royken spots a nozzle attached to a pressure sensor under the flagstone path.
"Alrighty... lemme see if I can fix this." Crystal digs out her thieves' tools and starts working on the nozzle.
Unfortunately, while Crystal is somewhat familiar with sharp objects, she's sadly entirely unfamiliar with the inner workings of a common gardening tool.
She eventually gets it right, but not before nearly setting the damn thing off. "Blast it all, now I know why Pa never spoke ill of his gardener..."
With the trap disabled, you proceed along the footpath through the garden, careful not to touch the poison sedum. The wooden porch of the house shows signs of wood rot. Rickety wooden steps lead up to a ten-foot-wide porch. A boarded-up window to the north enhances the feeling of neglect. A single door to the west of the porch leads inside the house.
Royken heads to the door, keeping an eye on the rotting wood to make sure it doesn't collapse under him.
"This is why you should f@#!ing use stone!" he growls. "It doesn't f$~%ing rot!"
Turning his attention to the door, he calls out, trying to pitch his voice so the man inside can hear it but no one else can.
As Royken steps on the porch, a portion of it sinks under his weight. There is a distinctive "click" and a whirring noise, then a hidden device spews a barrage of wooden bullets at high velocity through various holes in the boards covering the window! They batter the dwarf!
A distracted voice on the other side of the door mumbles, "Come back another time, please."
"For f~&~s sake! We have a delivery for you, Mister Gattlebee! From the brewery!" She says as she gives Royken a hand so he can leave the ruined porch, while protecting herself.
There is no answer from inside the house. However, you're fairly certain that the trap has not reset itself...
[ spoiler=Status]
HP 10/34
AC 19
Fort +8, Ref +8, Will +5
Hero points: 1
Ammo: 11/10 rounds
Effects:
[/spoiler]
"Ashen Forge!" Royken says, cursing by invoking the realm of Droskar.
He retreats. "I could use some of that song stuff, Eva," he growls. "Then I may have to kill this Gattlebee. No one can get his stupid, flaming secret then."
"Eva?" Lora asks as she slips up the stairs. "I think those wooden balls have rattled your brain, sir." she does give him a look over, just to make sure none of them are still in a wound, "nothing worse than healing over an object only to have to dig it out again."
She'll then start her recital, trying to think of a children's song that has Balls and Head in it, but mish mashing too much together to make much sense.
At the end, he is still battered more than she would like. "Most of you is not hanging out in odd places anymore but you need a bit more, I think"
She closes her eyes, rests her hand on his cheek and whispers "So little time and so much to do, both of which would be worse without you so stop all this f+@$ing bleeding." forcing her will into his flesh.