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(Savage Worlds) Jade Regent Adventure Path

The Brinewall Legacy

The Licktoad goblins have been raiding caravans along the Lost Coast and generally making a nuisance of themselves, emboldened by the discovery of a cache of fireworks. Where the little buggers got fireworks from is anyone’s guess. The sheriff of Sandpoint town collars his strapping, young son (PC: Tim Hemlock) to help post fliers reinstating the bounty on goblin ears (10g per pair of ears delivered to the town hall) and an additional 500g bounty for the head of the goblin leader; Chief Gutwad.

Tim decides this is just the opportunity that he’s been waiting for. Finally, a chance to prove that he’s more than just “the sheriff’s boy”! He is joined by a reclusive, half-orc swamper (PC: Roy Mucklelow), whose beauty sleep has been disturbed by the goblins and their “bloody bangers”. A boisterous dwarven cleric (NPC Healer: Brian Blessedbeard) with a booming voice and a great, bushy beard also attaches himself to the party.

Having lived (alone) in the Brinestump Marsh for the last ten years, Roy knows fine-rightly how to reach the goblin village and leads the group along an old, overgrown fisherman’s trail. Along the route, the party hear a high pitched, somewhat girl shriek from some ways off the trail. Led by Roy (whom the others hope can find the way back to the path), the heroes rush to investigate the sound, sloshing through the deep muck until they reach a small clearing. They find a struggling halfling being constricted by a huge snake! The serpent is easily 15m long and as wide around as a rolled-up carpet. The halfling man is turning a funny shade of grey, his eyes all a-boggle as the life is literally squeezed out of him.

Roy raises his crossbow and takes careful aim at the large snake – he doesn’t want to shoot the halfling in the face by accident. Tim charges forward, only to discover his movement is severely restricted by the swampy ground underfoot (difficult terrain). Blessedbeard bellows (Stun power with Deafening Shout trapping), expecting the volume of his voice to disorientate the snake, yet the serpent seems unaffected and continues to tighten its coils around its prey (mechanically, the halfling is now incapacitated).

Unwilling to yield its dinner without a fight, the snake rears up and hisses threateningly (effectively on hold until someone approaches within melee range). Blessedbeard shuffles 2” closer; the murky water now rises to his waist. Tim goes on hold until after Roy has fired, not wanting to get shot in the back. Having spent the last round aiming, Roy pulls the trigger on his heavy crossbow. The iron bolt sinks into the snake’s scaly trunk – a killing shot! The serpent thrashes wildly before going limp.

Tim and Blessedbeard are able to extract the senseless halfling from the dead snake’s embrace. Brian performs mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, swelling the halfling’s lungs with his whisky-tinged breath. The halfling recovers and introduces himself as Walthus Proudstump, self-proclaimed warden of Brinestump Marsh. He thanks the heroes for saving him from the snake and invites them to rest at his shack before tackling the goblin village. Roy helps carry the snake’s carcass, as both he and Proudstump agree that “them’s good eating!” Tim and Blessedbeard stick to their trail rations while the two hermits tuck in.

Jack: Please make a Notice roll opposed by Smenk's Persuasion...
1d8 ⇒ 2
1d6 ⇒ 4

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you are talking about." Smenk replies, "This is my good friend Nicolas Filge, recently arrived from the Free City. Nicolas is an alchemist and has agreed to help cure the affliction affecting my staff."

You notice a travelling case rests against the stranger's chair. It is made of black leather and resembles a doctor's bag, the contents causing the sides to bulge slightly. The gloved man rises and bows awkwardly.

"It is my pleasure to meet you all." Filge says, diplomatically ignoring Jack's coment on the condition of his hair, "Any friends of Balabar are friends of mine."

Introductions complete, the man's too-bright eyes wander towards the container that Azander carries.

"Is that what I think it is? Have you managed to acquire a live specimen?"

Having cleared the mine of worm-infested miners, the ride back up to the surface is without further incident. From the position of the sun, you deem it to be barely noon. Assuming that you return to Smenk's mansion immediately... You are escorted inside by a different pair of goons to the two you encountered yesterday. How many interchangeable thugs does the mine manager have on retainer? Smenk is waiting for you in his library. As well as his usual contingent of attentive bodyguards, he is accompanied by a tall, gaunt fellow with bright eyes gleaming from within bruised sockets. This man is wearing a rough apron smeared with blood, which he absently wipes his gloved hands on now and again. His hair is oiled back and his beard is neatly trimmed.

"Ah, back so soon?" Smenk welcomes you, chomping on a fresh cigar.

Oh, then that is fine. Azander got three of the worms out and Arial only needed one success on her Healing roll to remove the fourth. Jack is now worm free.

Jack: You manage to make yourself sick, but the puddle of bile you produce is conspicuously worm free.

That would have worked if you had ingested the creature, but since it burrowed into your body, it could be anywhere. The healing rules in Savage Worlds do not allow for multiple healing attempts from the same person. You are going to have to find another way to purge yourself of the parasitic intruder joyriding through your entrails.

Azander: You have reached a dead end. It looks as though this is the extent of the mine's expansion before the miners were infected with these foul worms. A quick investigation reveals the other tunnel mouths that you passed on your way to this point also lead nowhere of interest.

Your meddling disturbs the green worms crawling all over the pile of corpses. Several latch onto the sides of your boots and begin to gnaw on the tough, old leather. You notice that they have rings of tiny teeth. You do notice a sealed envelope protruding from the top pocket of one of the dead miners. Gingerly retrieving the letter, you see that it is addressed to Balabar Smenk.

Success, so you avoid a level of Fatigue. For now. But you still have one horrible green worm burrowing through your innards.

What are you doing next?

Arial: Your prayer to Sehanine goes unanswered. Perhaps the godess cannot hear you, buried so deeply beneath the ground.

That's 3/4 of the worms extracted from Jack's body. Unfortunately,the last worm has now burrowed deep enough that it cannot just be cut out.

Jack: The unpleasant sensation of something alien squirming through your stomach is decidedly unpleasant. (Please make a Vigour-1 roll).

I have been wanting to try FATE for ages and am holing that there is enough interest to get a game going. I will be running Way of the Wicked by Fire Mountain Games (even if Gary McBride is a thief who stole my Kickstarter pledge). I will be using the rules from the FATE Freeport Companion.

1: Pick a Name, High Concept and Trouble aspect.

2: Pick another three aspects to round out your character.

3: There are six core skills, STR, DEX, CON, INT, WIS and CHA. Assuming the following ranks as you see fit: +0, +1, +1, +2, +2 and +3.

4: Pick up to three Stunts.

If you want to play a Magic user, you need one aspect and one stunt to support your character archetype. Magic is probably the most complex part of the FATE system, so I will answer any questions that come up during character creation.

If anyone does make a Healing roll, you remove one worm for each success/raise on your roll by cutting the creatures out.

Azander: As you ready your blade to cut down the final creature, Jack huffs up and finishes it off with a rapid two slash combo.

All five of the diseased miners lie strewn across the floor of the tunnel in various stages of bloody dismemberment. Green worms crawl forth from the wounds that your attacks have left in the lifeless bodies. It is clear that all five men are infested with the writhing vermin.

Jack: You're beginning to feel a bit ill. The flesh near the four worms crawling around your own body is turning an unhealthy shade of necrotic grey.

Well I'll be damned... :o

Jack, you still have an action in round 2.

Round 3!
Jack: Queen (Hearts)
Azander: Jack (Spades)
Last Diseased Miner: Jack (Clubs)
Arial: Nine (Hearts)

Yeah, this is a bad roll to fail. Are you all out of bennies? >:D

Jack: The miner's head snaps back as Arial's next arrow hits him between his cold, dead eyes. Although you manage to brush most of the loathsome worms off your arms and torso, you watch in horror as several (1d4 ⇒ 4) begin burrowing into your flesh. You can still feel/see them moving around beneath your skin. (Please make a Spirit-4 roll against fear).

--

Oblivious of the old man's impressive Parry, the last miner takes another optimistic swing at Azander.

Fighting: 1d6 ⇒ 4

There are 5 diseased miners shambling towards you at the start of the round, although looking at the last few posts, those numbers are about to be significantly culled.

The Parry you’re trying to beat is 5, so 9 will result in a Raise.

Jack draws back his rapier, preparing to lunge towards the nearest of the mindless zombies, Suddenly, Azander darts forward - faster than a man of his advanced years has any right to be - and steals the kill! Another of the diseased miners joins the fray. Jack spins to meet this new threat, blade poised to strike, but he is too slow (and fat). Azander’s weapon flashes again and the creature falls away, more green worms bubbling from the wound. An arrow flies past Jack’s head. Turning, you see that a third of the creatures had been reaching for you from the gloom. Fortunately for you, Arial spotted the threat and put an arrow in its chest, although this hasn’t done much to slow it down. Before Azander can move, Jack drives his rapier through the wretched figure.

Three down, two to go.

The last two miners shuffle forward and attack. The first is still clutching the pickaxe it had been banging against the wall of the tunnel, which it now swings at Azander’s head.

1d6 ⇒ 4

The second creature lurches towards Jack and spews forth a foul plume of worm vomit.

1d6 ⇒ 6
EXPLOSION > 1d6 ⇒ 6
EXPLOSION > 1d6 ⇒ 1
Total = 13

Fortunately, that attack does not inflict any damage. :)
Unfortunately, you do need to make a Vigor-4 (would have been -2, but I did get a Raise) check, or something even worse happens. >:D.

--

Round Two!
Arial: Joker
2x Diseased Miners: Ace (Diamonds)
Jack: Nine (Diamonds)
Azander: Six (Clubs)

Since you rolled so well on your fear test, I'll allow that first attack before we go to rounds.

Confronted with this ghastly adversary, Azander's sword shines brightly in the darkness as the old man drives the slender blade through the infected miner's neck. Pulling the weapon free, you notice a soupy green goo now stains the metal. The man barely seems to have noticed the attack, despite the gore dribbling from the ragged wound beneath his chin.

Round One - remember your darkness penalties (see above)!
Azander: Joker (you lucky *******)
Arial: Ten (Spades)
Jack: Ten (Clubs)
Diseased Miners: Three (Diamonds)

Opposed Notice roll vs Jack's Stealth roll [5]... 1d4 ⇒ 4
EXPLOSION > 1d4 ⇒ 2 = 6, unfortunately, they are aware of you - no The Drop for Jack. :p

Azander: I’m assuming that you’re holding your rapier in one hand and a lantern in the other, as Arial has shielded her light with her cape and these guys were just standing here, in the dark….

The nearest miner turns slowly to regard your approach. He does not look well. His wiry beard hangs loose in ragged clumps, the flesh behind the hair is pale and grey.
The man opens his mouth to speak – and a writhing mass of green worms cascade over his bottom lip. The diseased miner gropes blindly for your face, staggering through the puddle of vermin with a vile, squishing sound. Slowly, the other three miners shuffle towards the light, sightless eyes staring at nothing.

Azander: Since I don’t use the Guts skill, please make a Spirit-2 roll against fear.
Jack/Arial: Please make your Spirit rolls with no penalty, as you are not getting splattered with worm vomit. :p

Following the rails (and, incidentally, the metallic ringing sound), the tunnel slopes gently down into the dark. Several adjacent tunnels branch off this main throughfare, winding elsewhere through the mineral-rich earth. After ten minutes of wary advancement, your lanterns shine upon a group of silent figures, clustered aimlessly at the end of the tunnel. They are attired similarly to most of the miners you have seen around Diamond Lake since your arrival. One of these men intermittently raises his pickaxe and bangs it against the seam of glittering metal, shining in the dark.

(They haven't noticed you yet, but that's not going to last long. Jack indicated he was taking some care to be quiet. Arial did not, but I assume that she is not making too much noise. With all his coughing and tapping and grouching, I did not think that Azander would be particularly unobtrusive. Please advise what you are doing next).

Arial: Your pointy elf ears detect an irregular knocking sound, originating from further along the dark tunnel. It sounds like something metallic being repeatedly struck against the rough, rocky walls of the mine.

Jack sneaks along the outside edge of the cavern, surprisingly light on his feet for such a big fellow. Azander takes a more direct route towards the dark mouth of the tunnel, stick tip-tapping against the stony ground.

The shaft is dark and silent, its depths impenetrable by your aged eyes. The light from your own lanterns illuminates the rough sides of the chasm for about ten feet. You hear a low, mournful groan from far below, then realise it must have been the sound of the rusty chains moving as the elevator begins its descent into the dark. At least, you think it was... sound echoes strangely in the mine and it's difficult to be certain....

The platform descends jerkily into the bowels of the earth. The air becomes stale and unpleasant to breathe. You detect another smell, growing stronger as you descend, the stench of rot and decay. You have only a few moments warning before the elevator reaches the bottom of the shaft. With a screech of rusty metal, the break lever brings the platform to an abrupt halt. Your lanterns illuminate the edges of a wide cavern. The light reflects off the metal rails of a mine cart track lain over the rocky ground, leading into a shadowy tunnel at the furthest edge of your lamp light.

Due to the nature of your environment, darkness penalties are now in force. If you have your lanterns, most rolls dependent on vision will be made with a -2 modifier. If the lanterns are extinguished, you will be rolling with a -4 modifier. If your racial template includes low light vision you suffer no penalty unless the torches are extinguished. If your racial template includes infravision, then you suffer no negative modifiers at all.

Azander: You would likely find lanterns and oil amongst the discarded equipment within the mine, if you would rather save your gold for something shiny.

The inner workings of the lock click obligingly as Jack teases them with his trusty picks. The gate swings open with a squeal of rusty hinges. The jarring sound echoes strangely within the confines of the mine.

Jack: For roleplaying your character's love of mechanisms and not just using the key that Cubbin gave you, please have a benny.

A wide wooden lift platform dangles over the black shaft descending deeper into the bowels of the mine. A large lever connects to several rusty chains, which look as though they serve to raise/lower the lift. Twisted fragments of a metal safety rail hang from one side of the platform.

When you do approach the mine...

Discarded mining equipment litters the uneven floor of the dark tunnel. Unless you bring your own light sources, the only illumination is from the weak sunlight near the mine entrance, which grows ever dimmer as you progress deeper into the earth. Within minutes, you reach a rusty gate, sealed with a large, heavy-duty padlock. Beyond, you can see the platform of a service elvator hanging over a dark, deep fissure in the rock.

*grumble*

Do you have material somewhere that I can look through?

see below...

Fraust: Test Drive Rules here

It's actually playable with just that free PDF, though there's not much depth.

I'll be rolling a char for this. Or building one.

Would you like me to mention the thread in the other SW campaigns I'm in?

Still looking for more players! :D

You've planted the seeds of redemption, time to let them grow. You're not going to get any more out of Cubbin for the time being. :p

"Set things right..." the sheriff murmurs, contemplating his distorted reflection in the battered flask, "When there's so much gone wrong, where do you begin?"

Puffing out his cheeks, Cubbin reluctantly returns the flask to the top drawer of his desk. His hands shake as he turns the key in the lock.

"Kullen's body is gone. The less you know about that business, the better off you'll be."

"Time's pressing on, if you care to save your friend's farm, you'll do as Smenk instructs, same as everyone else around here does."

Before you leave for the mine, Sheriff Cubbin calls to Jack and thanks him for the strawberry tart.

Cubbin's Spirit: 1d6 ⇒ 5
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 1

The sheriff slams his palms down against his desk, causing the copper key to rattle. The sleeping deputy wakes up with a start and stares around groggily, unsure of what's going on.

"You think this is how I saw my life ending up?" Cubbin snaps, "I was a sergeant in the Free City Militia, happily married with kids. I fought to put men like Balabar Smenk behind bars for twenty years. Some of those men held grudges. One in particular took it upon himself to take his grievance out on my family. You think losing a wife and two kids is easy? It changes a man! I started to drink, can you really blame me? I even sold my wedding ring to buy booze. Couldn't get the damn thing over the knuckle, so I cut off my own finger."

Never came up before, let's say you never noticed, but Cubbin is missing his ring finger from his left hand.

Cubbin pauses, eyes puffed up with emotion as he is forced to relive this terrible turning point in his life. He fumbles with the top drawer of his desk and produces a battered hip flask. He gulps down a quarter of the contents before carrying on with his tale.

"I was a wreck, it wasn't long before it started effecting my work. I lost my badge. Sure, Smenk is no better than any of those guys I put away, but he gave me work when people I'd known my whole career and counted as friends turned their backs on me. You push against people like Smenk and sooner or later, one of them is going to push back hard. I've lost all I care to lose in this lifetime, think hard on what you care to lose before talking to me about redemption."

Sheriff Cubbin sinks back into his chair, staring into the sloshing depths of his bottle.

"Heroes are the folk with nothing left to lose."

Everyone gets a benny for discovering Cubbin's terrible past.

Cubbin's Spirit: 1d6 ⇒ 2
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 5

For a moment, it looks as though the sheriff is tempted to spill his guts. From the grey cast to his face, something is obviously preying on his mind.

"Kullen's body, we..." Cubbin stammers, "We burnt it, up by the old observatory."

Evidently, the sheriff prefers Smenk's gold to your baking.

Azander: The container is empty.

"Going senile, old man?" Cubbin smirks, "Smenk told you just last night, when you find whatever is messing with his miners, put a piece of it in the box and bring it back. Maybe I should write that down in case you forget again."

"Jack interrupts as he notices something out of place..."Sheriff why isn't Kullen's body in the cell like you said it was going to be?""

"Oh, well, Smenk wanted to dispose of the body himself. I'm just relieved to be rid of it. It had started to stink."

Jack, please make a Notice roll opposed by Cubbin's Persuasion.
Persuasion: 1d6 ⇒ 6
Wild: 1d6 ⇒ 3
EXPLOSION: 1d6 ⇒ 2
Total: 8

I am assuming that all three of you (and Alison Land) are crashing at the bakery, to the great horror of Jana Greyfeather.

The next morning dawns grey and drizzly. The overworked mining men of Diamond Lake move through patches of pale, washed-out sunlight on their way to the pits. Sam and Jana Greyfeather have been up since before dawn, firing up the great stone oven and rolling dough for the day’s bread. The delicious smell of baking fills the (overcrowded) house. Determined to pull her own weight, Alison has also risen early to assist her hosts. Her hands and face are pasty with flour as Jana Greyfeather shows her how to prepare the perfect owlbear pie.
-
When you visit the sheriff’s office, Cubbin produces a heavy, cylindrical container of dark metal, approximately the size of a human head. His desk creaks ominously under the weight of the thing. The sheriff does not look as though he has had much sleep and one of his deputies is snoring loudly in an empty cell.

Please make a Notice-2 roll…

”Well, there it is,” Cubbin says, rubbing the sleep from his eye with a balled fist, ”I warn you now, it’s bastard heavy. You twist the lid clockwise to open it, the other way to seal it again.”

Opening/Closing the container requires a Strength+2 roll and counts as an action.

”You’ll need this to get into the mine,” the sheriff continues, tossing a large copper key down beside the metal box, ”You’re to lock yourselves inside until you’re done.”

Opening recruitment for two additional players. Novice characters using standard SW creation rules. If you want to play but are unfamiliar with the system, the others players and I will be happy to help. :D

Was there anything else that you wanted to do this evening, or shall we jump straight to the next morning?

Smenk scowls down at the lumpy wad of yellowish-green phlegm stuck to his slipper. His fat fingers, which had been drumming incessantly on the arm of his chair since he started talking, are still. Every thug in the library seems to be holding their breath, waiting for the imminent explosion of the mine manager's rage....

"You should see someone about that cough, Azander." Smenk warns, "It'll probably be the death of you."

The tension slackens and Cubben relaxes visibly, his hand drifting away from his sword.

"If my solemn word in front of the sheriff is enough to satisfy your mistrustful nature, then I give it freely. Upon your return from the mine - with the item that has caused the sickness amongst my employees, I will absolve Miss Alison Land of the monies owed and make no further attempt to obtain the land upon which her family's farm stands. If you fail in your attempt, or are killed and your bodies identified, then the original contract will be enforced and the Land farmstead will be torn down."

Standing, Smenk casts his cigar into the hearth and nods to Cubbin, who slopes off back to his office.

"You can collect the special container from the sheriff's office in the morning. If that's concludes our business, then I will take my leave. I need to change my shoes."

I'm afraid those terms are simply unacceptable," Smenk says to Jack, lounging back in his chair, "Miss Land's debts will only be cleared upon your return from the mine, with the source of the contamination. Consider that an added incentive to succeed. Of course, I will provide you with a special container in which the item can be safely transported. We wouldn't want this affliction to spread any further now, would we?"

Turning to Arial, Smenk splays his hands helplessly, his fat lips pulled down into a mock grimace.

"Unfortunately, the original copy of the contract is held by my law scribe in the Free City. He's an obsequious fellow, but one of the best in his field, considering how much he charges for his expertise. Rest assured that I will summon him here forthwith, to deliver the documents and draw up a new settlement absolving Miss Land of any further debt. Unless of course, any of you are certified to practise law...? No, I didn't imagine so."

"You wouldn't be working for me," Smenk counters, reclining in his seat and blowing a lazy smoke ring into Azander's face, "And I certainly won't be paying you. What I propose is an arrangement that benefits everyone."

"First, I'm not trying to drive anyone of their land. Your lady friend owes me a considerable sum of money. I can provide you with copies of the paperwork, all nice and legal, signed by myself and Miss Land. I retain the services of a very well established law scribe from the Free City, so you can be assured that the contract is binding. Unfortunately, she has not been making her payments and I am well with my rights to seize her assets in recovery of the outstanding debt."

"I'm not an unreasonable man. I could be persuaded to absolve Miss Land of her obligation, if her friends were to make a small gesture of goodwill on her behalf. As I said before, I am a businessman. I have had to close down one of my operations, due to a strange sickness amongst the miners. While the mine is sealed, the men aren't digging and if the men aren't digging then I'm not turning a profit on my investment. Now, if you were to enter the mine and locate the source of this affliction, I would happily tear up Miss Land's paperwork and relinquish any claim on her families farm."

Beside Smenk's chair stands Sheriff Cubbin, presumably having just finished making his own report to the nefarious mine manager. His eyes are downcast and he will not meet your gaze. Several armed men loiter discreetely around the edges of the library. You recognise the three survivors from the fight at the Feral Dog, and they haven't forgotten you either, judging by the dark looks you're getting. Three empty seats have been arrayed around the dying fire.

"Please sit, so that we may discuss the business that has bought you here today," Smenk offers, gesturing towards the chairs with the glowing tip of his cigar, "Cubbin here has just been regaling me with his take on your recent heroics. I'm not going to waste your time with false sentiment, I never liked Kullen. He was a useful tool, but when a tool breaks, you can usually find another to do the same job."

He pauses briefly to puff on his expensive cigar.

"I am many things, but first and foremost, I am a businessman. I could have sent men to kill you, or burnt down your school - if it hasn't already collpased on its own - but where is the profit in that? You're far more use to me alive than dead. Perhaps we can come to some sort of understanding and put this bloody business behind us, eh?"

Are there any preparations you need to make before heading out?

Finding Smenk will not be a problem, everyone in Diamond Lake knows that he lives in a dilapidated manor house overlooking his own mining interests. A couple of thugs beside the entrance observe tou warily.

"You're expected," one welcomes you (without sounding particularly welcoming). "Follow me."

While the house must once have been a grand place to live, it has been allowed to slip into disrepair. The interior smells of mould and rot and something fouler. You soon discover the source. Chained to the walls in the foyer are two slathering dire apes, gibbering and screeching at you as you are escorted deper into the dank mansion.

Your guide opens a door and motions you into what must once have been an impressive library. Most of the shelves are now depressingly bare. A fire burns in the hearth, before which sits a fat man with majestic sideburns. He is smoking a large cigar and drumming his fingers impatiently on the arm of his chair.

"Ah, Azander Blanche..." Smenk drawls, "I was hoping that you would drop by. I see you have bought friends. Students of your school perchance? Or are they embroiled in this recent unpleasantness also?"

Despite his wife's tutting, Sam Greyfeather agrees to let Alison stay for as long as it takes to resolve her dispute with Balabar Smenk. Jana grudgingly makes up a bed for her in Jack's old room, which does mean that Jack will have to rest his head elsewhere, for the sake of propriety.

"No, no, no, NO!" Jana cries, brandishing a breadstick menacingly as Arial arrives, supporting one of Smenk's injured grunts, "He's dripping blood all over my nice clean floors! Get him out of here! SAAAAAM!!!"

So much for keeping a low profile. On the plus side, Jana chases you out before Smenk's man lays eyes on Alison Land.

After settling Alison in, it is probably nearing late afternoon. Are you going to confront Smenk immediately, or wait until the morrow?

Hearing his younger brother's voice, a larger, fatter version of Jack emerges warily from behind the counter. Unlocking the front door, he ushers you inside and bundles you both into the back room.

Jack, does your brother have a name?

"It's good to see you again, Jack!" he says, enfolding you in a brotherly hug (no mean feat considering your own not inconsiderable girth), "Why didn't you write to let us know that you were coming? I would have made some of your favourite strawberry tarts! Can I get you something to drink?"

"Is that him?" a woman's voice demands from the adjacent room. Your brother's wife emerges, face like a thundercloud in stark contrast to her husband's ever sunny disposition. "We're not running a women's refuge here, Jack! We can't shelter every woman you take a fancy to, regardless of who might be after them."

You can see Alison Land seated in the next room, her face glowing red as a plum tomato at being spoken off as though she were some common waif.

"And what is that old rascal doing here?!" your sister-in-law screeches, spotting Azander lurking near a tray of pies, still steaming from the oven. Swift as a whippet, she snatches the smouldering cigar from your wrinkly lips and drops it into the glass of milk that her husband had been pouring for Jack. "If I see those clever fingers of yours anywhere near those pies, Azander Blanche... they'll be baked into the next one!"

"It is lovely to see you, Jack." your brother says again, his fat face suddenly sombre, "But Alison told us that she was in some sort of trouble, that's why I closed up shop. She was in such a terrible state when she got here, she could barely string two words together without bursting into tears. Poor girl. What have you got yourself involved in now, little brother?"

Start with 3 as per the rules, then add any that you earn through IC/OOC awesomeness. :D

Ordinarily, that number would refresh at the start of every gaming session, which doesn't really work in a PBP game. I'll tell you when you can refresh your bennies to 3, probably at the beginning of each new module.

Almost forgot, everyone gets a benny for dealing with a major NPC (Kullen). Arial, you get two for that wicked shot. :D

Also, while Cubbin's men have removed the half-orc's body from the street, they forgot to take his severed arm, which is still lying there, all pale and gross.

Arial: I notice that you do not have either the Persuasion or Intimidate skill, but you do have Healing.

Back in the taproom of the Feral Dog, you immediately notice that the two men you knocked out with your martial arts have gone. They must have regained conciousness and scarpered while you were outside dealing with Kullen. Only the two men who ran afoul of Jack's rapier remain, one dead and one wounded.

How do you intend to get the information you want?

--

Jack's description of Greyfeather Bakery : "The Greyfeather bakery is located off the central square towards the 'nicer' part of Diamond Lake. The front half of the bakery building is the where the ovens are located as well as display cases. The back part of the building is hidden by a wall that contains a single door and contains the living area and was Jack's childhood home. It's now inhabited by Jack's brother and shrew of a sister-in-law."

Azander: When you reach the bakery, the entrance is locked and a sign in the window reads 'closed'. Please make a Notice roll.

A failed Persuasion roll results in the NPC's impression of your character decreasing one level, in this instance: neutral > unfriendly.

Cubbin coughs and splutters as you exhale the smoke from your foul cigar into his face.

"Fine." the sheriff mutters, following after his men (who are struggling to haul Kullen's uncooperative corpse out of a muddy patch), "I'm not getting caught in the middle of this. Might be some of the mine managers grease my palm from time, but not enough to die over. You want to butt heads with Smenk, be my guest. Less paperwork for me."

Assuming that Arial hides also, as Azander's plan seems to be to take sole responsibility for this mess.

Sheriff Cubbin and two of his uniformed sycophants come trundling over to investigate the disturbance in the town square. The sheriff has a large, flat nose, red with broken veins, marking him for a heavy drinker - a fact that any resident of Diamond Lake could have told you for free. A sword hangs from Cubbin's belt, though he shows no indication that he plans to draw it anytime soon, as he draws to a halt beside Kullen's body.

What are you playing at now, Azander? the sheriff asks, after catching his breath, "Brawling in the streets? If you've got a problem with someone, why can't you just shank them in a backstreet like everyone else and spare me a load of paperwork? Who is this poor bugger anyhow?"

Cubbin curses as recognition dawns.

"By the Abyss! You've killed Kullen?! You mad bastard! There are easier ways to commit suicide that giving Smenk a reason to come after you. Couldn't you have thrown yourself down a mine shaft and had done with it?"

Perspiring heavily despite the grey, overcast sky, Cubbin wipes a sleeve across his sweaty brow, before motioning for his two deputies to each grab hold of one of the corpse's legs.

"We can't leave that thing here. Put it in cell C until I figure out what to do with it. Azander, you're going to have to come along too. You're under arrest."

Assuming that you don't resist, you are escorted to the sheriff's office and locked in cell D. The cell contains a pallet of mouldy straw and a bucket for the conducting of one's 'private business'. A tiny, barred window provides a breath-taking view of the alley behind the gaol.

Tell your friends! :p

A mutilated corpse in the town square will cause a commotion in even the roughest of frontier towns and Diamond Lake is no exception. Within moments, whistles can be heard, heralding the approach what passes for the law in this grimy corner of the realm. Alison Land pauses only long enough to peck Jack on the cheek before dashing off towards the sanctuary of Greyfeather Bakery.

What are you doing now? If you stick around, Sheriff Cubbin and his deputies arrive a few minutes later, red-faced and huffing from their run. If you are not hanging about, where are you going to go?

Arial: Aiming for head imposes a -4 penalty, but you still hit with a Raise. Hitting the head causes an extra 4 damage also, bringing total to 17. Kullen is still Shaken (I forgot to roll his Spirit last round), so that's enough damage to finish him off.

Your arrow rustles Alison's hair as it finds it's target within inches of her own head. The shaft strikes Kullen between the eyes and lodges in his skull, quivering. Obscenely, even this fails to kill the albino outright and he retains his grip on Alison - up until the point that Azander scampers up and hacks off his arm at the shoulder. Alison staggers away from her tormentor, tripping over his severed limb in her haste to escape. Blood trickling from his eyes, Kullen takes a few wobbly steps towards her, before finally succumbing to his catastrophic injuries. He collapses onto his back, Arial's arrow sticking up into the air like a little flag.

Will post again after school run.

List of Casualties...
Kullen: (extremely) Dead
Kullen's Gang: 1 dead (Jack), 1 wounded (Jack), 2 unconcious (Arial) and 1 escaped (to warn Smenk)

Opening up 1-2 slots for this game. Posting frequency at least once per day, though we sometimes manage more. Please post if interested in joining game.

INITIATIVE (Round 5)
Kullen's Gang: Joker
Jack: 10 (Spades)
Azander: 9 (Hearts)
Arial: 8 (Spades)
Kullen: 3 (Clubs)

There is only one goon still standing within the Feral Dog, the fellow swinging the chair at Arial's head. Kullen has scarpered through the front door, but it does sound as though he has delayed his escape in order to further menace Alison Land.

Fighting: 1d6 + 2 - 1 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 - 1 - 2 = 2

The final thug takes another swing at Arial with his improvised club, before noticing that he is the only member of his gang still upright and that his boss has made a break for it. He drops his weapon and makes a dash for the back door behind the bar. (Arial gets to make a free attack against the cowardly grunt.)

Arial's Fighting: 1d8 ⇒ 2
Wild Die: 1d6 ⇒ 2

The last thug ducks under your parting blow and flees into the filthy alley to the rear of the tavern.

Jack: With that sort of damage, that last wound has inflicted a grievous wound on your opponent.

"I was only - urgh - following orders...." the injured man grunts, falling to his knees before you, his blood soaking into the dirty reeds strewn across the floor of the taproom.

--

Azander: Shaken, Kullen growls at you with a mixture of rage and frustration and tries to bull his way past you to reach the exit onto the town square. (This gives you a free attack as he is attempting to leave combat).

"This ain't the end of this, you'll see!" Kullen snarls, "Diamond Lake is Smenk's town, you'll be sorry you stuck your noses in where they ain't welcome none!

Fighting: 1d12 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Wild Die: 1d12 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Damage: 2d4 ⇒ (1, 3) = 4

The albino barges past the old swordsman and barrels through the front door, abandoning his cronies to whatever fate the party has in store for them. A moment later, you hear a woman scream. Oh no, Alison!!! :o

Wow, pretty good frequency of posts today. I'm back at work on Wednesday, so things will likely slow down at that point. Once this fight has been resolved, I will see about recruiting some more players (although I think things are going reasonably well with just the three of you so far). :D