# Project Daedalus- d20 Modern



## DanMcS (Dec 6, 2002)

*12/5/2002 Session 1*

_DM's website: http://www.project-daedalus.com/
The setting owes much to Urban Arcana, from the d20 modern book.  Project Daedalus is a small group working towards closing the connection between the worlds, and ending the influx from Arcadia, as the other side of shadow is known.  There's some character information at the site, too.

Tonight was our first session, actually none of us had ever met before, the game was arranged over the 'gamers-seeking-gamers' forum hear, and by post at the FLGS we played at.  A good time was had by all.

Character creation, about an hour.  We were slowed somewhat by the novel bits of the system compared to standard 3e, but we seem to have worked it out.

My character, Isaac Holt, is an academic, a rare book dealer.  His business has brought him in contact with a number of arcane curios, and thence to recruitment by Project Daedalus.  I'm visualizing him as similar to Johnny Dep's protagonist in The Ninth Gate, or maybe an early Wesley Windham Price from Buffy/Angel- smart and kinda wussy now, badass later.

Isaac is a consistent journaler- he deals in books, and would love to pen his own memoirs someday, thus the records._

_Excerpts from the journal of Isaac Holt:_
First day at Daedalus.  Excellent library here- many of these books are worth small fortunes.  Several fine examples of late Renaissance binding techniques.  Wide variety of papers, from all over the world.  Some need minor repairs- obviously no true bibliophiles here before my arrival.

Interesting people, too.  Looking forward to training and evaluation.

_later..._

Past couple of weeks have been exhausting.  Days of poking, prodding, testing, evaluations.  Verdict seems to be that I am generally healthy, but lack advanced athletic skills.  I could have told them that and saved us all a couple of weeks.  My past aikido training has stood me in good stead though.  Begun training with sword and pistol- slow progress, nothing to brag about.

My strengths are really in research and languages, not so much shooting and fighting.  If this is the focus of the project, I question my place here.  Still, intend to stick it out a bit longer.


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## DanMcS (Dec 6, 2002)

Returned from first mission.  Placed with:
Mason Andrews, ex-police investigator;
Rae Winters, previously with national parks medic service;
Wolfgang Kohl, retired military.

Mission objective was distraction.  Instructed to find one Big Johnny, an orc of (as we later discovered) fearsome reputation and even more fearsome odor.  Johnny and his lads worked for an ogre who had been consolidating power among criminal gangs downtown.  We were to find Johnny and keep his gang away from their hideout long enough for a strike team to go in and deal with the ogre.

Arrived in neighborhood approximately at dusk- we believed the orcs would not venture forth earlier.  Report had it the orcs often visited a local liquor store, so we started there.  More a gas station, we discovered, with a large convenience store and large liquor selection.  Mason and I ventured inside to check it out.  Rae took up a position across the street to call me if she saw them approaching, and Wolfgang went around back to look around.

The owner, Horacio, was an easily agitated Pakistani gentleman.  I selected a small bottle of whiskey to appear as a customer, but when I went to check out Horacio reacted to some inaudible noise, grabbed a bat, and started towards the rear storage area.  We later learned Wolfgang had broken into the back and was snooping around- he claimed it was unlocked.  Mason and I suspected trouble, so we kept talking at the owner until he decided it must have been nothing, and relented to serve us.

Mason proceeded to question the owner.  "I need to talk to Johnny.  I hear you know him.  Big Johnny.  Can you get me in touch with him?"  The owner tried to protest, but M. persisted, and we were told that some nights they hung out and drank in a park nearby.

We went outside and met Rae and Wolfgang.  W. told us there was a car parked behind the store in the alley, we decided to check it out.  The car was locked, but we found gashes in the wall of the store, as though someone had been hitting it with a large bladed weapon.  This we also discovered, in the dumpster, a fireman's type axe, with old blood on it.  A bloody rag was also found nearby.  Very strange.

None of this was finding us any orcs, though.  So we went to the park, maybe a half mile overland, in a somewhat residential neighborhood.

Wolfgang disappeared into the dark to look around.  Rae stayed near the sidewalk to watch the street, Mason and I also investigated the park.  It was block-sized, small parking lot at one end, little restroom building in the middle.  There were two cars in the lot, one a running Mercedes, the other unoccupied.

Mason and I searched the area with flashlights; we discovered black tire tracks on the driveway, someone peeled out of there fast.  I called out for my lost dog, wandered around, and approached the Mercedes.  Knocked on the window.  A Jamaican gentleman opened the driver's door.

"Excuse me sir, have you seen my dog?  Little wiener dog, he got away from me and was dragging his leash, have you seen my Fluffy?"  He told me unless I was buying, I should scram, so I did.  There was someone in the passenger seat, too, but he didn't get out.

Rae, Mason and I regrouped and eventually found Wolfgang skulking in the dark.  Mason had investigated the restroom building- there was a guy in there wearing sunglasses, washing his hands, but it was otherwise empty.  All the faucets were running, though.  They were the push-down type that turn off automatically after several seconds.  Very odd.

Rae approached the Mercedes again, and initiated an exchange.  I was called over to front the cash.  I'm used to dealing in expensive plant matter, but mostly it's bound and printed on.  We got out of there quick when Wolfgang reported a large Arcadian he had seen earlier was approaching the area.  We later determined it to be an ogre.

From 20 yards away we saw the figure approach the Mercedes.  I called Daedalus, and told him the ogre he was looking for was probably right here, right now, with no supporting orcs, and he should get here RIGHT the HELL NOW.  He demurred, and ordered us to leave the area.  The ogre produced a huge, double-headed battleaxe, seemingly from nowhere, and with a shriek of metal brought it down on the passenger side of the Mercedes.  The driver popped out the other side and took off, right towards myself and Rae.  I informed Daedalus that the ogre had just cut the Mercedes in half; he reiterated that we should leave.  This was not particularly helpful, so I terminated the conversation.

The ogre brought the axe down again and again.  The passenger had been struggling to bring a gun to bear, but he was never successful.  We took the stunned driver prisoner and vacated the area.  Under questioning, the driver proved unaware of the incursion of strangeness in the world- he babbled about the "'uge frigging guy" that had attacked the car.  He did not recognize the assailant, and could give us no useful information on Johnny, so we zip-cuffed him, hobbled him with duct tape, and called the police to pick him up.  He had sufficient drugs on him to incriminate him without our testimony, so we decided to stop wasting our time in this obvious wild goose chase and go back to Horacio's liquor store.

On the way back, Mason spotted a cop he knew investigating the severed Mercedes.  The second car had disappeared from the lot, and with it I suspect the sunglassed man from the restroom.  None of the drugs had been taken, but the passenger was messily dead, and the Mercedes had been searched.

A quick check behind Horacio's found the car there now unlocked- it smelled of an unidentifiable herb, but the trunk had more of those bloody rags.

Back in Horacio's, Rae told H to "Stop playing games" and hook us up with Johnny, we had a job for him.  Wolfgang had gone to burgle the back room again, and picked up the phone in time to hear H talk to a deep-voiced person who wanted to work for beer.  We regrouped in the store, and waited for the orcs to show up.  A call to Daedalus told him when the orcs reached the store, and we were told to keep them there for 10 minutes at least.

Negotiations were difficult at first, as the orcs (rightly) believed we didn't have a job for them.  They were distracted by the smashable glass doors concealing lots of beer.  Horacio was displeased and produced a mammoth shotgun, but we pointed out that he was insured, and the gangers would outshoot him.  Touch and go for a minute, though.  We escaped out the front door, and pondered the merits of crashing the car through the front door, or torching the place with the gas hoses, but decided retreat was the better part of valor.  H deserved to deal with the orcish vandals anyway; what good person keeps a box of bloody rags in his trunk?  Daedalus picked us up several blocks away, commented that the ogre he saw had no battleaxe, but that he was reasonably successful, and so were we.

Who was that other ogre, though?  And the sunglassed man in the park.  Horacio is definitely up to no good.  And we'll have to deal with those orcs eventually, I imagine.  Maybe this job isn't so bad after all.

_Illegal actions perpetrated by the party this session, roughly chronologically:_

_Concealed carry w/o permit (constantly)_
_Burglary (Horacio's back door)_
_Buying, possessing controlled substances_
_Kidnapping, armed robbery (searching the driver's pockets for clues)_
_Disturbing a crime scene_
_Burglary (the back door again, and the car)_
_Incitement to vandalism/riot (of the orcs)_

_And we're just getting warmed up._


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## Buddha the DM (Dec 6, 2002)

Nice use of the ogre with the axe. Loved that bit.


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## projectdaedalus (Dec 6, 2002)

That list of crimes kinda reminds me of the scene in "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" when the judge is reading off the list of crimes for which "the Ugly" is being hanged.


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## DanMcS (Dec 8, 2002)

*12/7/2002
Session 2*

_(One of our players had to skip this saturday; the GM brought a short one-session adventure we could do in one session, and we'll start a longer adventure next week.  Plus, a short vignette for each character present.)_

*Wolfgang Kohl*

Wolfgang, after our encounters with rampaging ogres and pillaging orcs, decided he needed a bigger gun.  There was a gun show in the area, so he went hunting for an M4 carbine, a weapon he was familiar with from time in the military.

He struck up a conversation with a dealer who had two on display, one standard and one apparently modified, better barrel, sights, a good custom job.  He attempted to sweettalk the guy down on the price of the masterly crafted one, but the dealer stood firm, and another customer walked up and bought it for the listed price.  Wolfgang did a double-take, the other customer, slender, graceful, pale, pointed ears, obviously an Arcadian.  He lost the elf into the crowd, but ended up buying the stock gun and some rounds.

Wandering around the show, he found something even stranger- another elf, this one dark skinned, pale hair.  Different subspecies, maybe.  The elf was dealing WWII memorabilia; some guns, defunct grenades, but mostly authentic looking Nazi stuff, and some bizarre grisly artifacts, necklaces made out of teeth and paperweights made out of skulls.  Wolfgang talked to him a bit, didn't bother to buy anything, but later shadowed the elf to his car and got the license plate for later reference.  Very strange.

*Rae Winters*

Rae got a call from an old friend, a park ranger in town for the weekend.  She met him for dinner, and he related some unusual attacks in the park he was managing- a brown bear, normally a reclusive creature, had been attacking hikers and campers.  They hadn't tracked it down yet, but the hunt was on.  They spent the rest of the dinner in chit-chat, catching up on old times.

After dinner, walking back to the car, they witnessed a carjacking!  The driver fought, the attacker fired several shots into the car and ran off.  Rae and her date (I didn't catch his name) ran to the car, helped the victims as best they could, and called 911.  When they spotted the ambulance coming, Rae took off in the direction she'd seen the gunman take, her bewildered date following in her wake.  They got lucky and spotted the shooter walking down an alley.  Rae drew her sidearm (to her date's shock) and called for the suspect to surrender.  He turned, drawing his pistol, but she had him lined up and dropped him with a well-aimed shot.  Bound his wound, zip-cuffed him, and left him by the nearest street for the cops to find.

She doesn't figure she'll get another call from the guy anytime soon.

*Isaac Holt*

Isaac used his couple of days to conduct business.  Another book dealer, an older gentleman named Clayton McKendrick, an acquaintance of his, had passed away.  The funeral was tomorrow, the estate sale a couple of days later.

He went to the funeral to pay his respects to an old competitor.  A couple of other guys in the business were there too, and isaac smiled grimly to himself.  "The vultures are circling all right."  He ran into the old guy's daughter, Jenny, who he also knew vaguely, and assured her he'd stop by the auction- she knew he was in the same business as her father.

A couple of visits to local motels confirmed that a lot of regional guys would be here for the auction.  Old McKendrick had a sizeable library and a big house full of his collections- the auction was going to be quite an event.  One guy Isaac knew, some noveau riche chump with more money than taste, styled himself a Baron.  He had stock market money and had gotten out at the right time, so he'd be hard to outbid on some of the better pieces.  Rumor had it he owned a castle in Pennsylvania, a real one, shipped over from France or something stone by stone.  Jerk.

On the day of the auction, Isaac showed up early.  Pretty much everything was for sale, even the house, so all the furniture and everything had been brought out to tents on the lawn.  The lower value pieces were in lots in the tents with listed prices, but the real valuables would be auctioned later that afternoon.  He browsed the lots, didn't spot anything, and slipped away to venture inside the house.

He knew it vaguely from doing business with the old man, but it was very empty and kind of sad now.  Isaac poked around, nothing really in most of the rooms.  In the study, under a couch that hadn't been moved yet, he found a small book, handwritten, apparently McKendrick's journal.  Pocketed that for later.  Didn't really spot anything in the rest of the house, but he got caught snooping around by Jenny.

"Are you lost?"  A disapproving look on her face.

"Just taking a look around for old times' sake.  Place sure looks different now.  Really going to miss the old guy."  Hope she bought that.

"Yeah.  Well, he'd been sick, it wasn't unexpected."  Beat.  "Well, you can find your way out?"

"Sure thing.  See you later."

Safely back out in the tents, Isaac went through the lots more thoroughly- nothing else to do anyway until the auctions started.  In one of them, he found an old, kind of shabby set of books.  They didn't look like much, but paging through them, they proved to be Victorian era, medical texts of some kind, written by one of the Queen's private doctors.  They /should/ be up for bidding, but since they weren't- he checked the price mark, and whistled.  Still pricey, but undervalued.  Some mental calculation- he found a sale worker, and offered them less than the asking price.  Look at the condition, not real good, but interesting as curiousities.  To his surprise, they went for it.  Even if he got nothing else, this was a heck of a find by itself, and he stood to make a great deal of profit.

As he suspected, he couldn't bid with the big dogs at the real auction, but stuck around out of curiousity.  The Baron snapped up a bunch of pricey but gaudy artwork and furniture, and some books Isaac wasn't interested in anyway.  An old manuscript on Vlad Tepes went for a LOT, to a mysterious figure Isaac didn't recognize.  Even the Baron got outbid on that one.  Afterward, Isaac found Jenny McKendrick to say his goodbyes, and asked her the name of the Tepes buyer.  The log said Nicholas something, but it was obviously a pseudonym- he paid cash.  McKendrick said she'd look into it a bit; also, if any of the book lots were left over, was Isaac interested in being called?  He left his card.


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## DanMcS (Dec 8, 2002)

The three of us met up later on- Mason was using his week for family time, but said he'd do some digging on that elf's license plate for Wolfgang.

Rae related the story about the bear attacks, and said she was going down to look into it.  Nothing better to do, so Isaac and Wolfgang went along.  Isaac was a city boy through and through, and the bears worried him.  "Has anyone been really hurt by these things?  I thought they were scared of people."  He had to endure teasing after that, about the ferocious squirrels we were likely to run into in the park.

***

The drive was long, but we arrived safely, and got into a cabin by nightfall.  Still too early to sleep, so we went out for a walk.

Down the path, we were approaching the lot where our van was parked.  Sounds of voices alerted us to people ahead- arguing?  We spread out, coming in on the parking lot from different directions.  Isaac got there first.

A couple of guys, local toughs, giving a native american lady and her little girl some trouble.  That's just obnoxious.  We walked towards them.

"Hey!  You guys got a cigarette I can bum?  Who's that with you?  You all right, lady?"  The two guys told Isaac to buzz off.

Rae, coming in off to the right around some parked cars, saw three guys in a truck that Isaac hadn't seen.  One in the back had a rifle and was looking off at Isaac.  She pointed her pistol at him.  "Freeze!"  He was so surprised he dropped the rifle.

Wolfgang, circling around left, snuck in behind a tree and took a bead on the two by the women.  They hadn't seen him, focused on Isaac.

Things started to happen very fast.  The guys in the truck tried to back over Rae, who rolled out of the way and started shooting at the driver, but mostly hit the truck body.

The guy in the back grabbed his rifle, and shot Rae.  She was knocked down and out.

Wolfgang ran in, took aim, and shot the driver.  The truck swerved wildly as the passengers tried to control it.  One of the two on foot punched at Wolfgang ineffectually.

The other took off, past Isaac.  Isaac yelled, "Stop, fool!" in his most authoritative voice, stepped back into a shooting stance, and drew his taser to drop the guy.  Unfortuneately, it tangled on his jacket, flipped out of his hands, and rolled off into the night.  "Crap."  He chased after the terrified thug, yelling his fool head off, but lost him in the dark and had to work his way back to the parking lot.

Wolfgang butt-stroked the last standing combatant into unconsciousness as the guys in the truck got control and peeled away.  He ran over and began trying to stabilize Rae.  We loaded her into the van, and headed out for the hospital.

After a visit to the ER, we determined Rae wasn't as bad as it first appeared, and with some bandages and antibiotics, and several police reports, we were free to go back to the cabin, about 4 in the morning.

***

The next day, our crew was able to go about our real business, instead of brawling with drunken rednecks.  Hiking into the woods, several miles of trails revealed nothing.  We were just meandering at this point, but then Wolfgang spotted a body down in a ravine.  Quickly, Rae was lowered by rope to the man; she found him unconscious but alive, and was able to wake him up.  He was very disoriented, but remembered being hit by something big and furry- it must have knocked him off the cliff.  We left him a blanket and some supplies, we didn't want to risk dragging him up the cliff ourselves.

Rae's tracking skills revealed large hoofprints around the top of the ravine.  We set off through the woods following them.

The bottom of the hill opened into a big clearing, with a number of standing stones in the center.  15 or 16 people milled around amongst them.  Wolfgang went in for a closer look, keeping in touch over walkie-talkie.

Most of the crowd set out to leave- Wolfgang followed at a distance.  Rae and Isaac went in to talk to the man who was left.

"Hey, how you doing?  Do you have a phone?  We found an injured man, over in a ravine."

The man answered, but not in English.  Isaac's multilingual ear worked for him here, and he was able to pick out the gist of the conversation.

"No, no phone.  No technology."  Wierd.

"What were you doing down here?"  Isaac inquired.  Rae moved out, examining the standing stones, and getting behind the man.

"Make sacrifice.  Appease nature demon."  Wierder.  Sacrifice- that dark spot on the snow, blood?

"Sacrifice?  What are you talking about?"  Isaac and Rae moved their hands towards their pistols.

"Sacrifice.  Feed demon.  Usually goat, rabbit, today little child."  What the?!

Isaac and Rae drew.  To the walkie-talkie, "Wolfgang, get back here RIGHT NOW."  To the man, "What child?  Where's the child?  Get your hands up."

The man turned, pointed, and spoke.  Rae fired and hit, but the man didn't even wince.  Her gun got hot, and she dropped it.  Isaac missed.  The druid spoke to Isaac, but he resisted, and missed again.  By this time, Wolfgang has heard the shots, and is running back.

Rae tried to hit the druid with her baton, but it bounced off his chest- was that a leather cuirass under his clothes?  Who was this freak?  The guy looked, spoke, and disappeared.  Isaac saw footprints appearing in the snow, and tried to tackle the apparently invisible spellcaster, but landed on his face in the snow.

When Wolfgang got back to the clearing, he found Rae cursing and putting snow on her gun to cool it off, and Isaac trying to wipe the slush off his front.  "What are you idiots _doing_?"

***

The group decided to try and follow the 'demon', bear, whatever, tracks to its lair.  Rae was very good at this, and in a short time we found the opening to a cave.  Snoring echoed from inside.  It was dark, narrow, and didn't look fun.  "Good luck, Wolfgang, scream like a girl if you need us."  Isaac and Rae hung around outside the cave mouth, looking for psycho druids and pointing their guns at the cave occasionally.

Wolfgang crept quietly into the cave.  Sloped up, and branched.  The snoring was louder.  He went left, but that didn't seem to be the way, and he went back and took the right branch, shining his penlight around, holding his gun, and trying very hard not to make any noise.

The tunnel widened into a cave.  Off to the right, he saw the child- the same little girl from last night, amazingly.  That family had the worst luck in the history of the earth.  She looked uninjured, and packets of candy lay scattered around her.

Gulp.  Shine the light left.  Oh, crap.  There's a hoof.  Leg, leg, leg, very long legs.  Oh, a body, wow, big critter here, hey, um, it's sitting up.  Chin, mouth, eyes.  Open eyes.  And horns.  A minotaur, very awake.  It looked at him curiously.

"Who you?"  Wolfgang found himself surprisingly not dead.  Had to tread carefully though.

"I'm here to, ah, take the girl back to her mother.  And you are?"

"Cedric.  Good, take girl.  Take candy too."  Mmm, yeah.

"All right, thank you Cedric, I'll just be going now."  Wolfgang gathered the little girl, and a couple pieces of candy (do NOT disobey the minotaur), and headed towards the cave mouth.  He cringed as Cedric followed him.

And so Rae and Isaac were treated to the sight of Wolfgang, carrying the little girl, followed by the large, friendly minotaur, blinking at the light.

***

Cedric revealed that the druids usually gave him food, every couple of weeks.  The rest of the time he foraged.  Occasionally, usually after seeing the druids, he would lose control of himself, and roam around attacking hikers.  We began to suspect that the druids were magically affecting him somehow.

Cedric said he could lead us to the druid's house.  We gave a walkie-talkie to Rae, and sent her to take the girl and the wounded hiker back to the ranger station.  Isaac and Wolfgang went with Cedric.

A large cabin, on top of a hill.  Couple of windows, front and back door.  How did this guy get away with building this in the middle of the park?  We talked Rae in, it took her an hour to get back from the station.

Peeking in the window revealed the druid, engaged in some ritual involving a magical diagram and many candles.  No way we were letting him finish that.

Cedric and Wolfgang went to the back, Rae to the front, Isaac outside a window.  With a crash, Cedric kicked the door in.

Wolfgang slipped past him and opened fire on the druid.  Rae burst in the front door and shot too.  Isaac broke the window, shot, and missed.

Rapidly, the druid bobbed, weaved, and magically heated all our guns to glowing heat.  Crap.  Rae grabbed her baton, Wolfgang his knife, and Isaac a nicely non-metallic tree branch.  The druid was still more than our match, he was too fast and most of our blows were glancing.  He whirled, pointed at Cedric, and chanted something in his strange Gaelic.  Cedric stirred, stepped in the door, and started towards Wolfgang, but shook his head and retargeted at the druid instead.

The tide turned then, Cedric was too strong for the druid, battering him and then tossing him across the room.  The druid chanted rapidly, though, and Cedric was trapped to the ground when roots and vines grew up in seconds to tangles his legs.  We had him on the ropes anyway, as Isaac clubbed him in the head, Wolfgang stabbed him, and Rae searched for her pistol (now starting to cool).

Just when we thought we had him, he twittered, turned into a bird, then flew out the door and into the dusk.  Rae shot ineffectively, and Isaac threw his club after the bird.  "I hate that guy."

***

Nothing was to be done, we'd never find him in this twilight, so we contented ourselves with trashing his place and taking his spell components.  We stayed the night in our cabin and called Daedalus in the morning, telling him all about our strange escapades.  He thought he might be able to do something for Cedric, so midmorning found us driving up the interstate with a four-hundred pound minotaur in the back of the van, under some blankets.

_(The spells the druid cast were heat metal, charm person (failed, at Isaac), and invisibility.  In the second fight, lots of heat metals, a failed charm monster at Cedric (had that worked, we would have had a TPK), entangle, and finally a shapechange of some sort.  We HATE that guy.)

As near as we can figure, the druid was using some kind of Charm on Cedric, to get him to drive off the tourists and safegard the nature, or something like that.  He was a nutjob.

Loose ends, after session two: The orcs, the car-axing-ogre, Horacio, and the sunglassed man, from session 1.  The gun-show elf and drow, and the guy that bought the Dracula book.  The druid escaped too.  We just keep racking them up.

This session had wierd rolling.  We consistently rolled low on Spot and Listen- our characters were wandering around oblivious.  Other skill checks were amazingly high- Isaac had never spoken Gaelic before, but rolled so high with his linguistics talent that he was able to converse pretty well with the druid.  Tracking, search, other checks were similar.  Our shooting was just bad.

We learned that the class Defense Bonus makes a bigger difference in combat than you'd expect.  Also, that melee weapons are extremely necessary against spellcasters- with guns or unarmed, you don't threaten, but with AoO you're getting double attacks when the guy casts spells.  Oh yeah, and when your medic goes down, you're stuck using action points trying to stabilize her.  We need more Treat Injury ranks in the party._


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## Buddha the DM (Dec 8, 2002)

Man I am enjoying this a lot. Can't wait to see some more.


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## projectdaedalus (Dec 8, 2002)

Me too.

Great job, Dan.  I'm glad you're doing this.  I'll remind the people in the group to come and take a look at this thread.


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## DanMcS (Dec 17, 2002)

*12/14/2002
Session 3*

The Daedalus team was called back to project headquarters the day after New Years.  They'd had a couple of weeks to pursue side interests, but were now back on the job.

Eric Daedalus brought them in to his office for the briefing.  "A number of Egyptian artifacts were stolen from the New York Metropolitan Library yesterday.  The New Amsterdam branch, to be specific.  They probably have occult significance.  The night before, the _Turkamen Star_, a small freighter registered out of Cyprus, came into NYC harbor.  Here's the crew list.  Recognize anyone?"

Isaac scanned the list.  "I recognize that one, Jamhad al-Akbin Abari; he's Saudi, deals Egyptian stuff in Europe, right?  Never met him though."

"Precisely," confirmed Daedalus.  "Go to New York, investigate the burglary, check out the ship and see if they were involved."

"That's pretty thin.  A ship came into harbor the same night as the burglary.  So what?  A hundred ships must go in and out every day."  Mason wasn't convinced.  "What makes you think..."

"Good sources," Daedalus interrupted.  "Here are the tickets, here's a debit card for expenses, phone in periodically."

***

By the time they got off the plane, it was getting dark.  A short trip to the hotel, then they caught the subway to the library branch.  It was closed.  Discreet scouting revealed several private security guards patrolling, inside and out.  No way they were getting in there tonight.

"To the ship!"

***

The Turkamen Star was small as cargo ships go.  It nestled into pier 8 at the city harbor.  Occasional lights pierced the evening gloom, but this dock was mostly empty of people.  Two other ships, a big container ship and a smaller boat, shared the dock.

Trying to look nonchalant, Mason, Wolfgang, Isaac and Rae sauntered down to the far tip of the dock.  Four guards at the foot of the ramp eyed us hard as we passed the Star, but we gave them a wide berth.  The smallest ship was moored at the end, and we walked onto it like we knew what we were doing.

Once aboard, we wanted to have a good look at the Star through binoculars, but it was too dark.  A whispered plan developed.  Rae and Mason stayed aboard the ship, peering toward the Star, while Isaac and Wolfgang crept towards it, keeping to the shadows.

Wolfgang led the way towards the mooring line of the ship.  He was nearly there, and
WHAM
cringed as Isaac walked into a crate behind him.  The guards shined a light towards us, and began yelling at us, not in English.

Isaac went for his wallet, and flipped it open at them.  "Port authority!  We're inspecting your mooring lines."

The guards, seeing him reach inside his jacket, had gone for their guns.  "Oh, crap!"  The guards opened fire.

Isaac ran for cover, several crates were around that might stop bullets.  Wolfgang pulled his own weapon and shot back.

Rae and Mason, hearing the gun battle, ran to the dock and began working their way toward the Star, keeping behind cover as they came.

One guard ran back aboard the ship.  Another went down to Wolfgang's fire, but Wolfgang was knocked back by several shots and fell unconscious.  Isaac hid behind a crate, trading potshots with an equally terrified guard.

Rae and Mason finally showed up and finished off the two guards still standing.  Rae checked out Wolfgang, tied off his worst wounds, and called for the retreat.  Our heroes scurried away, Wolfgang over Isaac's shoulder, retreating to the hotel to regroup.


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## projectdaedalus (Dec 18, 2002)

*BEWARE **SPOILER***

I assume there's going to be part two with the library sequence and the second battle at the Turkamen Star?

I like the way you re-arranged Isaac looking at the manifest before the group left Columbus.  That's actually how I envisioned it, but for some reason, we didn't get around to it until later in the session...


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## projectdaedalus (Dec 18, 2002)

*More Material?*

If you don't mind, Dan, I might write some "supplemental" material for this thread.


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## DanMcS (Dec 18, 2002)

Rae performed ad hoc surgery one Wolfgang in the bathtub of the hotel room, pulling out  a couple of slugs and sewing him up as best she could.  He'd need to rest a day or so  before he'd be particularly mobile.  He was left to recuperate in the hotel while we  went to case the library.

It was much easier to get into now that it was open.  Isaac went to talk to the  librarian, Rae and Mason checked out the area the antiques were stolen from.

That room was police-taped off, but Mason slipped inside and wandered around, spotting a  slip of paper on the ground with the phrase 'hidden door?' written on it.  He pocketed  that for later.

The librarian tolds Isaac that the police hadn't mentioned any leads, the auction hasn't  been rescheduled yet, and that's about it.

A brief discussion sent us to the city offices, to get blueprints for the library.

***

The library was built in the late 1800s; remodeled in 1979.  Inspection of both sets  (original and post-remodelling) revealed two voids which might contain hidden rooms;  both adjoin the space the artifacts were being held in.  No entries were apparent to  either void, in either set of blueprints.  We returned to the hotel room to plot.

Rae spoke up.  "We need to get in there and check for hidden doors."

"We could hide in the bathrooms until the place closes, and then snoop around," Mason  suggests.  This is roundly denounced as a stupid idea.

"We could hide in the basement."

"That was locked."

"We could break in through the loading dock."

"Security cameras."

"We can sneak in through the sewers."

"Good luck with that, let us know how it goes."

"We go to the library, find the janitor's address, go to his house, tie him up, steal  his keys, come back to the library, and hide in the basement."

"..."

***

At 6:00, the library closed.  The upstairs librarian left almost immediately, turning  off the lights to the second floor as she went.

Isaac peeked out of the closet he was hiding in; no one around.  He tiptoed out, and whispered into Mason's, Rae's, and Wolfgang's hiding spots in turn.  They carefully  snuck out of the bathrooms and regrouped by the stairs.

Three guards were hanging around in the downstairs lobby.  We could hear them from the  balcony overhead.  They were distracting each other, we could sneak by and get to the  crime scene before they started patrolling.

Rae went down the stairs first.  She walked softly across the carpet, but one of the  guards heard her, and shone a light back that way.  She laughed.  "I was up in the  bathroom, and they turned out all the lights.  Is the library closed?"  Two of the  guards show her the way to the door, leaving one looking back at the open space.

Isaac follows a bit too closely, and gets caught by the third guard.  "Hey, buddy, did  you see where my girlfriend went?"  The guard shakes his head, grabs Isaac by the arm,  and heads him towards the door as well.

Mason creeps quietly down the stairs, catches his toe on the step, and falls down the  last few stairs with a CLATTER, BANG, WHACK.  All three guards are busy  out in the entryway with Isaac and Rae, who pester them with irrelevant questions about  the library's hours of operation, and Mason's fumble goes unnoticed.  He scrambles  across the lobby and through the door.

Wolfgang, injured and gimping, is the quietest of the four, and wonders what he did to  deserve these nimrods.

Rae and Isaac find a deli across the street to sit in, order some food, and monitor the  walkie-talkie.  Of course, Isaac had the team's copy of the blueprints.

Wolfgang and Mason searched the employee-only rooms that abutted the void on the map.   Nothing to be found.  They snuck out of that area and around the corner into the crime  scene, over where the note had been found originally.  Inspection revealed what could be  a door shape in the wall, but no opening mechanism.

A call to Isaac, and we found that they were near where a wall had been removed in '79.   The opening mechanism must have been on that wall, then run either through the floor or  the joining wall to open the door.  Wolfgang ripped up the carpet, found nothing.   Probing with a knife, Mason found a soft spot in the wall which revealed a rod.  Taking  a guess, he pulled on it, and with a click, the door opened.


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## projectdaedalus (Dec 24, 2002)

*Newspaper Article*

Eric Daedalus discovered this article in the January 7th edition of the New York Post and thought he would pass it along...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

FIREFIGHT AT BROOKLYN MARINE DOCKS
by Annabelle Redding

Sunday afternoon, Port Authority Police responded to reports of shots being fired at the Brooklyn Port Authority Marine Terminal.  According to Max McClaskey of the Port Authority Police, several reports came from the area of Pier 8, near the Port Authority offices.

"We received at least three individual reports of shots being fired, one that indicated an explosion aboard a ship moored at Pier 8," said McClaskey at a press conference Monday morning.

According to Robin Saeger of the Port Authority, there was only one ship moored at Pier 8 over the weekend.  This ship, the Turkamen Star, of Cypriot registry, was due to leave port on Sunday, but had been delayed for unknown reasons.  Saeger confirmed that the Turkamen Star had arrived in New York from Cyprus on January 2, 2003.

William Portley, lead detective investigating the incident, described other strange events reported over the weekend at Pier 8, perhaps indicating that more investigation would be forthcoming.

"We have had other reports of shots fired over the weekend," Portley confirmed, "including a few explosions and possibly the theft and/or vandalism of a forklift."

"The Turkamen Star has not left the Brooklyn PA Marine Terminal pending the outcome of our investigation.  We have requested that the captain remain in the U.S. for further questioning," Det. Portley said at a press conference on Monday morning.

When asked about a possible hijacking attempt, Det. Portley replied, "We have no reason to believe that any attempt was made to overpower the ship for hijacking purposes.  The evidence we have collected thus far does not support a hijacking motive."

The ship's captain, Ibrahim al-Hakim, of Turkey, was not available for questioning.  Police reports indicate al-Hakim was found locked inside a storage cabin aboard the Turkamen Star, his hands bound with police-style zip handcuffs.  Port Authority Police had no comment about al-Hakim or his crew.

Melissa Ryberg, of the Port Authority Police Information Center, allowed journalists access to the Turkamen Star's manifest.  According to the documents filed with the Port Authority, the ship left Cyprus, sailed the Mediterranean, across the Atlantic, landing first in Baltimore, and then onto New York City.  The only cargo listed on the manifest is "passengers".

Another ship, the Beulah Marks, a container ship, was moored at Pier 8 on Friday and Saturday.  The captain of the Beulah Marks, Denny Stout, reported that vandals or thieves may have boarded his ship Friday night.  Several dock workers reported seeing people board the Beulah Marks, but that those people were there for a very short time.  Capt. Stout indicated that he was not under investigation.

While it is not entirely unusual for a passenger ship to dock at Pier 8, the Brooklyn Marine Terminal is mostly used for cargo container ships since the opening of more modern passenger facilities in the 1970s.


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## projectdaedalus (Jan 2, 2003)

Dan, are we ever going to see part two of the previous adventure, or have you given up on the diary?


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## DanMcS (Jan 4, 2003)

Mason and Wolfgang hustled into the secret room before the guards came by again, and let it shut behind them with a soft click. The dust of decades stirred with their approach.  Crates and boxes littered the room, stacked haphazardly.

Peering around with flashlights, they saw footprints in the dust, and the outlines of missing crates.  One had measured about seven feet by three and a half- very disturbing.  And how had all these crates been carried out without being noticed?

A clipboard hung on the wall, and was taken for later perusal.

"Isaac, Rae, there's not much here, but some crates were taken.  We're coming out."  The walkie-talkie was turned off.

"Hey, Wolfgang, how we getting out?"

"Um, there's a back door..."

"It's alarmed."

"So?  We'll be out."

Mason and Wolfgang opened the secret door, looked out, saw no guards, and took off.  Cries of "Hey, who's there?" followed them, and they burst out the back door, which started wailing it's electronic warble.  Mason and Wolf ignored it and ran, to a side street where Isaac and Rae waited with a cab.

***

The clipboard revealed a couple of Ancient Egyptian period relics which might have been taken, including the Sobek Scrolls, scripture of an ancient Egyptian god, and the Eliphantine Casket, which was probably the 7x3.5 box.

"You know what was in there?  A mummy.  I hate mummies."

***

Later that night, about the hour of three, another armed reconnaissance was undertaken toward the Turkeman Star.  The arabic gunmen were still present, but a cleverly detonated propane fuel tank from a forklift provided distraction, and we think we managed to get a couple of them before being forced to retreat again.  Whatever was on that ship, they were guarding it for keeps, and we NEEDED to get to it before they raised that mummy.


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## DanMcS (Jan 4, 2003)

*12/21/2002
Session 4*

We reported in to Daedalus.  He hooked us up with a contact in Chinatown who could provide magical aid.  We bought a number of potions, mostly healing, a couple of miscellaneous others.  The ship was headed out of port today, so we went back, in daylight this time, to make a last effort.

In the daytime, the port hummed with activity.  No guards were evident at the bottom of the gang plank this time, at least.  Figuring they had to be concealed on board, we loosened our guns in their holsters and headed up the ramp.

It was a very odd feeling.  We just walked right on board.  "Well, that was too easy.  Where is everybody?"  Inside the deck structure, most of the cabins and rooms were empty, and we felt like the ship was deserted as we wandered the halls, rediculously unopposed.

We found the stairs up to the bridge, and were checking a last couple rooms when one of the doors to the deck opened.  It was unexpected for both sides, and we looked at each other stupidly for a beat before everyone dove for cover and drew weapons.

The corridors we were checking had two exits to the deck.  Mason covered one, while Wolfgang, Rae and Isaac shot it out with the cultists at the far door.  They had enough and retreated, dropping a grenade as a parting gift and slamming the door shut.  Isaac was out of range, Rae and Wolfgang ran as the fuse on the grenade ran down and it BANGED in a now empty hallway.

One gunman looked back in, and saw the hallway deserted.  Isaac shot at him from his corner, and the response was another grenade down towards Isaac this time.  In an act of unadulterated stupidity, Isaac scrambled around, found it, and threw it back.  The cultist had shut the door again, and the second exploded as ineffectually as the first.

No time was wasted by the opposing side, who had sent their other men around the building to the door Mason was guarding.  Wolfgang wes here by now too.  The door opened, and a man leaned in to shoot at Mason, completely missing Wolf lurking behind the door.  Mason got missed, and the cultist got a sudden impact to the brainstem.  Wolfgang picked up the dropped Uzi with a smirk.

We re-ambushed the last two as they came in the doors, and the ship was quiet again.  We took the grenades they didn't get to use.

***

The ship's captain was unable to tell us anything useful about his passengers, so we locked him in a closet and searched the cult leader's room.  We found a list of adresses and a couple of notebooks and vacated the ship for the last time.


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## DanMcS (Jan 9, 2003)

The list of addresses proved to be subway stations.  Most were crossed off, three were not.  A subway map told us that one of those did not even exist any more.  We surmised that the crossed off ones had been visited; the three uncrossed stations had not when the list was last looked at.  So whatever they were looking for was probably in one of those three.  Or it was in one of the 8 or 9 crossed off ones, but three was fewer to check than 8 so we started with the three first.

One of those was a perfectly ordinary subway station.  We walked in, gawked, talked to some on-duty cops there, and realized we weren't getting anywhere.

The next one we checked was the closed station.  There was a gate, but we just stepped over and descended the stairs.

***

The underground station was fairly decrepit, not in use for several years probably.  We shone our flashlights around, and started to fan out from the stairs to search.  The gunmen at the far end of the station opened up on us with their machine guns.

Rae dove behind the station-worker booth, crouched down low hoping it might stop bullets.  She shot at the gunmen.  Isaac ran toward the track, concrete pillars there might provide some cover.  He tossed a grenade as he ran, which at least stopped them firing for a couple of seconds as they maneuvered to avoid it.  Wolfgang and Mason rolled for what cover there was in the bare area, and opened up.

A couple more grenades and much ammunition flew this way and that.  Remarkably, none of us were killed, and we got all three of the gunmen.  Raw luck, that.  This must be the place.  We took their guns and remaining grenades, and looked for what they were guarding.

It took a couple of minutes, but we found a door built into the back wall, descending down into the gloom.

***

At the bottom of the stairs, a short corridor.  Big double doors at the end, with light leaking under them.  We nominated Wolfgang to go check it out, the rest of us having been less than stealthy in the past.

At the door, Wolfgang listened.  Was that chanting?  No, more like one guy... reciting... something.  Wolfgang didn't recognize the language.  He beckoned us down the corridor.

The plan: Wolfgang opens the door a crack, we toss in grenades, and shut the door.  Wait for the boom, and then bust back in and hit them with everything we've got.  Unfortunately, we didn't hear them hear us, and  their guns.

1 Rae opens door.
2 Isaac and Wolfgang toss grenades.
3 Rae shuts door.
4 BOOM.
5 Open door.
6 Shoot the survivors.

Except that we got interrupted at about five and a half, by two of them who were able to react and hose us with their machine guns.  Everyone got minor wounds from that.  A couple more grenades went in the door and then we went through as the last gunmen crumpled before our stolen artillery.

On either side of the door lay bodies, cut and ragged from the fragmentation grenades.  Dead ahead was a large stone box, the Elephantine Casket we presume.  On the other side of that stands Jamjad Abari, reading from a papyrus scroll which crumbles to dust as we watch, horrified.  We're too late.

The coffin stirs.  Cracks.  Breaks open.  A huge snout pokes from the rubble.  Great scaled hands brush away stone fragments none of us could lift.  The very image of Sobek, the crocodile-headed Egyptian god, stands before us.

He shakes his head, squints, and sniffs.  He turns on Abari, who shrieks a command at it, and it rapidly rends him with claw and snapping jaw.  We look at each other.  This thing can't be released on the unsuspecting city.  Guns and grenades ready, we fire at the monstrosity now feasting on the priest.

The bullets get its attention.  It turns and rushes across the room, slamming into Rae, who falls.  Isaac pulls out his second pistol and shoots wildly at it, trying to lure it away from Rae, which works for a minute until it turns on him and bites a huge chunk out of him.  Well, it felt huge at the time.  Isaac passed out and lay bleeding on the floor.

Wolfgang had revived Rae with one of the potions we got from the herbalist.  She circled widely around Isaac and got one to him, while it sniffed and hunted for Mason, who was hidden behind the door into the corridor.  Up and mobile again (those potions were good stuff), Isaac limped towards the other side of the room, where another corridor led out.  Maybe there was something down here to use against it, or trick it into a trap.  None of us were shooting at it now.  It didn't seem that bright, and might just leave if not provoked.

Bored now, the nine foot crocodile man pawed at the corpse of the priest, then started down the corridor Isaac was checking out.  He scrunched to one side and held his breath as it passed him in the dark, and then it was gone.  We followed it at a long distance, this tunnel connected to a storm sewer, and eventually the sea.  Where it went from there, we don't know.  We caught the next flight out to Columbus.

***

Rae decided this life wasn't for her, and returned to the comfortable normalness of her job in the national parks.


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## Horacio (Jan 10, 2003)

DanMcS said:
			
		

> *The owner, Horacio, was an easily agitated Pakistani gentleman.  *




Why nobody did warned me that I was a NPC in this story hour?
In fact, why did superb story hour slippled under my radar?

Good job, DanMcS, I'm officiqlly addicted to your story. 
One story more I'm addicted to...


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## projectdaedalus (Jan 16, 2003)

Rae Winters walked out of Hemmener Hall, and got all the way to the front step before someone caught her.  It was Eric Daedalus, on horseback, riding through the fields in front of the manor house.  

Daedalus rode up to the front of the house, with a somewhat puzzled look.  "Going somewhere?" he asked.

Rae, still shaken from her experience in New York, was almost afraid to respond.  "I... I have to go," she said, fidgeting on the spot where she stood.

Eric Daedalus dismounted and patted his steed on the side of its neck.  "What is this about, Rae?" he asked.

She looked down at her suitcases, and then back to Daedalus.  Her erstwhile mentor had a concerned look on his face, a look that Rae had seen many times in the training room.  But something about this look was different.

"We need you, Rae," he said, filling the awkward space.  "You are a valuable member of the team."

"I know," she conceded, "But I just don't feel at home here.  You all have been great - don't get me wrong, but..."

Daedalus moved closer.  "This isn't the life you imagined for yourself, is it?"

A tear slowly descended down Rae's cheek.  "I just want to go home," she sobbed.

Winters sat down on the front step, her head in her hands.  After a moment, she looked up at Daedalus, her face now flush.  "Do you know how many times I've been shot?" She almost laughed at this question as it came out.

The look on Daedalus' face changed from concern to understanding.  "This is a dangerous world we live in.  Some of us can go about our lives with abandon, living as if we were in a vacuum.  Others of us are chosen to defend the innocent against the threats that come from Arcadia."

"I know all that," Rae barked.  "I don't know that I'm cut out for this."

"Maybe you're not," Daedalus said, resigning himself that Rae was probably a lost cause.  His conscience could not just let her leave, however.  "My calling is to stop the Arcadian threat.  This is not a calling that many people can understand.  Normal people cannot even perceive that this threat exists.  You are special, Rae, because you know what's going on.  You are one of the very few that do."

Rae smiled, feeling that Eric's confidence was not as shaken in her as she was with herself.  It was nice to know that someone felt she was worth the trouble.  "Still, I can't do this anymore.  I have people back home who worry about me, and I don't want to send them any more postcards from the hospital.  Do you see where I'm coming from?"

Daedalus helped Rae to her feet.  "You can leave whenever you like.  I wish you wouldn't, but it's your decision alone to make.  When all is said and done, you always control your own destiny, if such a thing really exists anyway..."

Rae dried her eyes on her sleeves.  "I have learned a lot in the past few months, and I will always treasure this time we all spent together.  I wish things could be different, but... this life isn't for me.  I'm a healer, not a fighter, and I can't continue hurting people, even if they're evil Arcadians bent on world destruction."

Daedalus laughed.  "Are you sure you can't make an exception on that account?" he joked.  "Seriously, I understand.  But know this.  You are indeed special, because you can see through the Arcadian's veil.  You know what they really look like, and this is not something you can just put away in a drawer somewhere."

"I know," Rae replied.  "I just - "

"No, this is important," Eric said, interrupting.  "You need to know this.  I believe that this ability to see the truth could one day put you in danger, so like it or not, you may one day be forced to defend your family or friends again from the Arcadian threat.  I want you to be prepared."

Rae couldn't say much.  This was not something she had considered.  She had hoped she could just go back home and forget all of this.  Maybe that was wishful thinking.

"Look, I'm not trying to scare you, Rae," Daedalus continued.  "I want you to draw on this whole experience, and on your own innate survival instincts, should you one day find yourself in another situation like the ones we've faced.  And don't be afraid to ask for our help.  We're only a phone call away, OK?"

Rae felt better, but still a little uncertain about her future.  Just then, her cab pulled up to the driveway circle and honked.

"I'd better be going now," she said, and she picked up her suitcases and took them to the cab, where the drive was now waiting beside an open trunk.

Daedalus could only watch the cab drive away, knowing that Rae Winters' medical skills would be hard to replace, and her presence even harder to forget.


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## DanMcS (Jan 29, 2003)

*1/4/2003
Session 5*

Rumor had it that Bubba the ogre, Big Johnny, and their gang of merry orcs were consolidating criminal activity downtown.  Gang activity isn't really our purview, but they are Arcadians, so we're taking an interest.

Bronagh Flannery is the new addition to our team.  She's Irish, and has some sort of sordid criminal past.  And apparently some history with some zombies, though we didn't get all the details of that.  Definitely an asset.  She, Mason, Wolfgang and I went downtown in our unmarked, bleeding obvious white van.  We have to get a new van.  We look like the FBI.  Yep, inconspicuous, that's us.

Daedalus told us where they were headquartered, last he knew.  An abandoned warehouse.  Orcs don't go for condos, apparently.  We drove by the park they used to hang out at, and the liquor store, but they weren't in evidence, so we headed down Broad into the neighborhood of the wearhouse.

We left the blindingly white van parked behind a row of abandoned apartments.  Bronagh picked open the back door lock on one, and we went inside.  Talented lady.

Through the shuttered front windows, we could see Bubba and Johnny's warehouse.  There was a truck parked on the front lawn.  Scratch that, more 'crumpled into the wall' than parked.  Looks like a beer truck.  *Crack!*  Was that a gunshot?  We didn't hear any more, immediately.  Wierd.

No movement in evidence inside the warehouse.  *Crack!*  Another shot!  Where are those coming from?

Isaac stayed put to watch the warehouse.  Mason and Wolfgang climbed up through the attic to the roof of the apartment, Bronagh went out the back to scale the fire escape.

*Crack!*  Definitely close.  Something is moving on the roof, a couple of apartments down.  Isaac, get up here!

Wolfgang, Mason, and Isaac headed down the roof, nimbly jumping the gap between buildings.  Everyone managed to grab ahold of the ledge when we fell, too, so nobody got hurt.

Someone was hiding on the next roof.  Behind a big air conditioning unit.  Wolfgang pulled out his gun and covered us, as Isaac and Mason lept to the third roof, and even made it this time.  A puff of smoke rapidly expanded, the guy had dropped a smoke grenade.

Isaac charged into it, trying to cut him off.  Mason swept through the near side, and from behind us, we heard 'Drop your veapons."  We are sooo not the swat team we think we are.

The guy covering us, dressed in a city-grey ghillie suit and holding a pistol, was very slight of build, and had pointed ears.  "Are you an elf?"

He was.  Ivan had translated to this world in Russia, picking up the native language there when he came.  He'd come to America hunting orcs.  Turns out Wolfgang had run into him a few weeks back at a gun show, buying a sniper rifle, which sat in a nearby corner aimed at the warehouse.  "I've killed three or four.  There are perhaps ten left in building.  Have not seen ogre."

Ivan wouldn't come in, but he agreed to cover the windows and south and west sides if we went in to flush them out.  We split into two teams, Bronagh and Isaac in the south door, and Wolfgang and Mason went to the west, where the truck door was a few feet open at the bottom.  We communicated by radio, and went in the two doors simultaneously.


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## DanMcS (Jan 29, 2003)

Isaac and Bronagh found themselves in the front office of whatever business this had been.  Secretary's desk, dark hallway, lots of doors for rabid stinking orcs to hide behind and gnaw on our throats.  Check, check, and check.  Isaac started busting open doors and jumping in, waving his gun around, looking for bad guys to shoot.

"Clear!"  "Clear!"  "Clear!"

Bronagh smacked him.  "Isaac, I'm like four feet behind you, so stop yelling 'CLEAR!'"

Mason chimed in.  "Seriously, man, we're on the radio, we can hear you."

"Right, sorry."

***

Mason and Wolfgang rolled under the truck door into the side loading dock of the warehouse.  They let their eyes adjust to the light and crept forward, keeping low and behind cover.  "Those orcs keep it so dark, we need night vision."

A bunch of boxes and barrels were stacked haphazardly all over, either left over from when this was a business, or looted by Bubba's gang.

"Hsst.  Did you hear that Mason?"

"Yeah, something in the dark over there.  Radio it in."

***

Bronagh and Isaac checked out the last of the side doors on the hallway.  It hadn't opened into the warehouse floor yet, so the door at the end must be it.  The radio crackled, "Hey, guys, we've got some noise in the warehouse here, get out here."

The last door in the hallway opened into a little room, with doors east and west and a staircase on the north side, going up to the second floor.  Mason and Wolfgang came in from the west.  "Hey, I'm opening up a door, don't shoot."  Isaac opened the west door and looked out, he saw Mason and Wolf hunched behind barrels, looking into the dark.  Mason pointed vaguely into the dark, "They're out there somewhere, we can't spot them."

Isaac quietly closed the west door and went across the room to the east door.  He should be able to creep out this door and look around the corner, and be behind the orcs.  It seemed like a heck of a plan.

He opened the door and stepped outside.  Low to the ground, he looked out to the left, hunting for the orcs.

BLAM.  BLAM.  BLAM!  The orcs, actually off to the right, opened up on Isaac, hitting him twice.  He staggered back and threw himself through the door, Bronagh slammed it shut.  "Well, we found them."

In a quick flanking maneuver, Wolfgang cut north around the stairs and started plonking at the orcs from behind some crates.  One of them rushed the door Isaac had run through, to find Mason waiting for him with a shotgun.  Bronagh and Mason came out through that door as Isaac, wounded, went to cover Wolfgang's back.

We took out all the orcs on the first floor, but a couple came pounding down from upstairs, surprising Bronagh in the stairwell.  The stairs were surrounded by glass, so Isaac and Wolfgang shot at them, breaking it and hitting a couple.  Mason and Bronagh finished them off from below.

***

We rushed the stairs, not wanting to get caught in that confined space.  Upstairs, a couple of hallways branched out.  Bronagh went west and got caught by three or four orcs coming down that way.  She backed up and fell, Isaac dragged her out of the way.

Mason and Wolfgang engaged the orcs while Isaac gave Bronagh one of our healing potions.  Isaac went down the T hall past Mason, only to find himself in a dead end.

A door we had been ignoring opened, and a huge arm dropped out a grenade!  We scattered, and no one was hit much.  The orcs were dead, Mason threw his weight against the door as we tried to figure out what to do.  It crashed open anyway and Bubba the ogre, armed with a table leg, thumped Mason good.

We had him surrounded, Mason and Isaac on one side, Wolfgang and Bronagh on the other.  Wolfgang kicked him in the kneecap, the rest of us shot at the ogre, trying hard not to hit our friends.  Bubba cracked Mason in the head again; he went down.  That gave Isaac a couple of clear shots as the ogre roared after being stabbed and kicked from behind, and it went down, finally.

We bandaged up Mason and got the heck out of there.  This much gunfire had to attract some police.  Ivan wasn't to be seen on the building as we drove past, but we'd seen three dead orcs upstairs by the west windows, so he had hit some of them.


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## projectdaedalus (Jan 29, 2003)

Great job as always, Dan!  Keep up the good work!

I'm going to post some stuff that happened between the orc adventure and the next one, so you might want to hold off for a day or two so the continuity doesn't get mixed up.


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## Horacio (Jan 29, 2003)

Great updates!


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## projectdaedalus (Jan 29, 2003)

"It has been far too long," the lanky female figure remarked with some unusual warmth.  She hugged the man in black robes, and managed to scan the large chamber at the same time.  The embrace ended.

"So," she began.  "I trust that all is well?"

The man seemed skeptical.  She was, after all, not normally given to such displays of affection.  "What has gotten into you, m'lady?"

A liquid laugh echoed through the hall, awakening those nearby.  Finding humor was also not one of the lady's normal attributes.  "I am allowed to revel in human behavior every once in a while, aren't I?"

She sat down, her black trenchcoat still sashed at the waist.  There was a sickly smile on her face, one that might almost make one believe she was capable of human acts.

"Why are you here?" the man asked, his curiosity peaked at his lady's newfound attitude.  "I know we haven't kept in contact much, but --"

"I am not here to check up on you," she interrupted.  "This is a social call."

_That's what I'm afraid of,_ he thought.  "If this is a social call, m'lady," he replied, "what is the occasion?"

She cocked a smile.  "You get right to the point, don't you, Agrias?"  She brushed the snow still remaining on her left pantleg.  "I have need of your services.  Specifically, I have need of some of your agents in America.  I need to find something, and I need it soon."

In the atrium and the very back of the hall, small, misshapen humanoids gathered, and an almost chirping sound could be heard emanating from their masses.

"Can I trust you to keep a secret, Agrias?" she asked.

"Of course," he responded.  "I am here but to serve."

"Kangus is back," she stated.  "Well, not really, of course, but he has made his presence felt.  The Legion has returned, perhaps stronger than before."

Agrias blanched a bit at this news.  "I had no idea," he remarked.

"Of course not," she replied.  "I found out only two days ago myself, and you know that I am always on top of these things."

She stood from her chair and walked halfway across the stage toward the unused altar.  This had been a cathedral at one time, though with the building of a more modern facility in nearby Mont St. Michel, it was now abandoned to _other_ uses.  Now, Agrias the Black used it as his personal abode, along with his horde of Scatterlings.

"They said nothing to me," she began, "although, to be quite honest, I had a feeling their quest in Arcadia would be a foolhardy one.  Avin Dromdel be damned, but he is resilient, and resourceful for such a do-gooder."

Agrias walked closer to her, but kept a safe distance.  She seemed agitated, and it was best to keep a cushion of at least a pace or two between them.  "I'm afraid I don't understand."

She turned, her countenance fallen from affectionate to mournful.  "Dromdel and his accursed soldiers found the Phylactery and the Codex before our allies could get to the Pyramid.  Surely, you know of the object of Kangus' quest."

"I had heard only rumors," he answered, unsure of where she was going with this conversation, and what it had to do with him.

"None of this really concerns you, I suppose," she said after some consideration.  "It's best that I get to the point.  You heard that Naercis had lost his precious book?"

"Just as they were to go to Arcadia, and they were attacked by those Templars, right?"

She walked to the center of the stage, then turned toward Agrias.  "My master wants the Black Tome," she stated.  "I am too busy to travel to America and retrieve it, but I know that you have agents there who could do it for me."

He considered what his options might be.  His agents were, after all, barely competent at gathering information, especially if they missed the Legion's return to Earth.  It would be dangerous to send them on a mission of this importance.  But it would be more dangerous to cross the Inner Circle.  He might find himself chained to a rock in Tarterus.

"Do you have any clues for me to follow?" he asked.  Agrias knew that he could stall indefinitely if he had nothing to go on.

"I know that the Templar who had the Black Tome in his possession was tempted to open the book, and was subsequently corrupted.  This happened not long after the Legion left for Arcadia.  The Templar got rid of the book, fearing its power, and it fell into the hands of an American named Algie Marcos.  This person lives in the city of Chicago.  You might start your search there."

"I will do this for you," Agrias replied, "but I will hold a favor in return."

"Of course," the lady replied, her face once again livened with a smile.  "I must go now, and take heed -- there are forces in America who also seek this Black Tome.  They are resourceful, and will stop at nothing to gain its power."

Without missing a step, the lady in the black trenchcoat descended from the stage onto the main floor of the cathedral, and sauntered past the Scatterlings, who gave her a wide berth as she exited the building.

_What have I gotten myself into?_ Agrias wondered.

It would be quite a long time before he got an answer to that question.


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## Horacio (Jan 29, 2003)

Hmmm, I love these kind of evil characters' interludes, it gives to the story the feeling of a book or a movie.


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## projectdaedalus (Jan 29, 2003)

*The Joy of the Hunt*

Jackson Flaherty took one look at his Elven companion and wondered if this was really the wisest thing he could be doing.  After all, he had just purchased that Simpsons Season 2 Boxed Set on DVD, and sitting in a nice warm living room in front of the TV seemed a much better place than crouched on a snowy rooftop with a crazy Russian elf.

Ivan released the safety on his IMI Galil Sniper Rifle as he slightly adjusted the sight.  "You can never be too careful with the sight, my friend," the elf said as he meticulously tinkered with the adjustments.  "It is lifeline, or perhaps I should say _death_line to target."

"Yeah," Flaherty replied, "I get it.  What are we doing up here again?  I'm freezing my ass off."

Sitting back for a moment against the air conditioning unit behind him, Ivan looked at his human ally.  "I have been knowing you for six months now, da?"

Flaherty still couldn't get over the Russian accent.  "Yeah."

"You are not one to complain about weather," Ivan said.  "Maybe you get too old for these things.  I know the humans age quickly so I better to ask now than to find out later."  The elf went back to looking down at the street corner through his scope.

"Nah man," Jackson replied.  "I just -- sometimes you go off on these wild goose chases, y'know."

"I am not hunting goose," the elf responded, not getting the colloquialism.  "It is dark elf I am after tonight."

Ivan saw something through the scope, and Flaherty saw the elf deftly move his right hand to the trigger.  Jackson looked down to the street and saw three gang-bangers gathered near the lamppost on the corner.

"You're looking for them?" he asked.

"No," Ivan replied.  "They work for dark elf Siagath.  I look for him.  He is in big trouble, I think.  Even at night, he is afraid to go out."

Flaherty scanned the street for anything else of interest.  It was pretty deserted.  "So what are you going to do, shoot them?  I don't think that's going to get you any closer to this Siagath."

Two more gang-bangers appeared, bringing the total at the street corner to five.  After a minute, a white Chevy van pulled up, and all five men jumped inside.  The van pulled away, down the street and out of view.

Ivan sat up and started to dismantle his weapon.

"So that's it?" Flaherty asked.  "We came up here to watch some guys get in a van?"

"Now, he is alone," Ivan replied.

After they climbed down from the tire store, the pair went back to Ivan's truck, and the elf put his sniper rifle in the back.  Ivan picked up his M4 assault rifle, and closed the tail gate.

"Do you ever use the sword?" Flaherty asked, looking at the weapon in the sheath on the elf's back.

"When mood strikes me," Ivan replied.  "We go now."

"Wait," Flaherty said.  "We don't have a plan.  I need to have a plan."  He was hesitant to follow this elf into certain danger without so much as an idea of what was going on.

"Plan is to sneak into apartment building and kill dark elf Siagath, da?"

"I don't know," Jackson replied.  "Things are never that simple in my experience."

Ivan looked at Flaherty, scanning for a hint of doubt.  "If you want to stay here, I understand."

The elf took off running toward the other side of the street, barely making a sound as he went.  Flaherty thought about it for a moment and then followed.  They ended up next to some overgrown foliage near the wall that surrounded the abandoned apartment complex.

Flaherty unholstered his .44 Magnum revolver and held it in two hands.  "I've got a wife and kids to think about," Flaherty whispered.

The elf was silent as he peered into an empty parking lot beyond the wall.  There were no signs of activity.  Ivan worked his assault rifle's grip into one hand, and crouched at the edge of the wall.  He beckoned his human friend to follow, and took off again, this time aiming for the western half of the apartment building.

Flaherty followed, and after scampering across the open parking lot, flattened himself against the wall next to Ivan.  The elf peered around the corner toward the northern side of the parking lot and saw nothing.

Just as he was about to take off again, Ivan caught something out of the corner of his eye.  He held up a hand to Flaherty, indicating that they should not move.  The elf pointed toward the sidewalk beyond the parking lot, and Flaherty saw a group of people coming toward the apartments.

"Who the hell are they?" Jackson asked in a whisper.

"I do not know," Ivan replied in the same hushed tone.  "But maybe we abandon mission for now.  We need to go now before they see us."

Ivan took the lead again, rushing across the parking lot to a section of wall on the southwestern corner of the complex.  The group they had seen entered the parking lot, and Flaherty could barely make out anything other than their numbers - between 8 and 12 of them.

"They've got some balls.  Not even armed," Flaherty remarked.

Apparently, Ivan recognized them.  "No need for weapons," the elf answered.  "We must leave immediately."

The pair fled the scene, and made it all the way back to Ivan truck without being spotted.

Jackson holstered his revolver and gave Ivan a terrible look.  "Are those what I think they are?"

Ivan nodded as he opened the tail gate and put away his assault rifle.

"Should we tell Daedalus?" Flaherty asked.

"Nyet," Ivan replied coldly.  "Siagath is mine to hunt and destroy.  I will not involve others.  Not yet."

Flaherty and Ivan drove off, avoiding the apartment complex and whatever was going on there.  On the way back to his house, Flaherty wondered what drove Ivan to hunt orcs and dark elves, and realized he might never understand his friend, the hunter.


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## projectdaedalus (Feb 27, 2003)

I'm bumping this in the off-chance that we get an update someday


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## DanMcS (Feb 27, 2003)

*Jan. 17-19, 2003 (Session 6 and 7)*

Spent the weekend in Freeport, Illinois, investigating reports of a haunted cemetary.  Was lied to by teenagers, stymied by shop clerks, chased by the undea, tricked by warlocks, and finally put under some sort of magical paralysis and stepped on by zombies.  We did get the book, so not a total loss, but not a weekend I particularly wish to remember either.

_(Note: I'm summarizing because I'm rather behind, and I missed one of these sessions anyway.  There was a cultist in Freeport, ostensibly the town historian, who was using the Black Tome of Naercis to raise zombies.  Our characters blundered around town for a while, not accomplishing much, and decided to visit the cemetary that night.  A couple dozen zombies wandered in and chased us out.  Next day, interviewed the historian, didn't accomplish much.

I missed this next part: The next night, they went back to the cemetary and saw the zombies launching an attack on the historian's house.  Characters went into help, he ensorcelled us, charming Mason into defending him and casting Hold Person on Isaac.  The zombies were trying to catch the wizard to get the book, and Isaac happened to be in the way in a narrow hallway, so they pushed him over and stepped on him on their way to the book.

The wizard got away by tossing the book and driving off.  Mason, Wolfgang, and Bronagh destroyed the zombies, and we all took the cult book back to Columbus for study.  Stupid zombies.)_

Eric missed the next game after this, and we kind of wondered what happened to him.  Got email a couple of days later, turns out he got called back into the army as an MP, with only a couple hours notice, and sent to the Gulf.  Stay safe man.


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## DanMcS (Feb 27, 2003)

*1/27/2003-2/2 (Sessions 8 and 9)*

We successfully brought back the Black Tome to our HQ in Columbus.  Daedalus brought in a friend of his to analyze it, Ebenezer Primrose, a scholar of the arcane from England.  Isaac, Wolfgang, and Mason were basically relaxing and recovering from our trip to Freeport.  Bronagh was, typically, nowhere to be found at the moment.

Mason got a call from his exwife, April; she'd brought their daughter into town, the kid had some kind of rare condition and was having surgery in the next couple of days.  Mason hadn't bothered to give April his new address, or even tell her he'd moved, so she was standing outside his old apartment at a payphone wondering where in the heck he was.

Mason hung up, looking shakey, and said she'd dropped the phone, he'd heard gunshots in the background.  As one, the three rose, grabbed the packs they had learned to keep handy, and headed towards the van parked out front.

***

The street outside Mason's old apartment looked like a mini warzone.  Parked cars, windows, and building walls had been spattered by gunfire.  Police were crawling over the scene like ants, taping off the street, and more were arriving every minute.

Mason spotted a cop he knew, and went to talk to him.  Wolfgang went to check out the bullet hits, and Isaac took out his camera to get pics of evidence before the cops took it away.  He wandered around the outskirts of the scene, and saw a guy looking at him from the sidewalk.

"Help you, buddy?"  Isaac snapped a picture of some tire tracks.

"Are you a cop?"

Isaac thought quickly- this guy was probably scared of cops.  "Nope."

"Oh."  The fellow started to walk away.  Isaac winced, wrong guess.  Recover, recover...

"I work for them, though, I'm a crime scene photographer.  What do you need?"

"I saw a van pulling out of here, they kidnapped a woman and a little girl.  I got the license plate."  Wow, this guy was a godsend!

"Oh, that could be important, let me have that and I'll get it to the, uh, chief investigator, yeah.  You've done the right thing telling us this."

***

Checking the plate, it came back to be the same as the one that dark-skinned elf was driving when Wolfgang saw him.  We gave the plate to the cops, figuring the more eyes looking for it, the better.  Then we drove around the area, figuring he was associating with a local gang for muscle.

We heard a notice come across our police scanner that the van had been spotted.  Isaac took down the address, and we were close; Wolfgang layed down the pedal and we beat the cops there.

***

We checked out the apartment complex.  It appeared empty, but the van was in the back, so they had to be here somewhere.  We disabled the van to prevent escape that way.  Wolfgang scaled the building and provided some overwatch as Mason and Isaac checked out apartments.  We weren't finding anything until Wolf walked across the wrong apartment roof, and bullets started coming up through the shingles from below.

Isaac and Mason raced upstairs to find Wolfgang kicking in the door.  Rapid fire was exchanged in a crowded room, and it's amazing we weren't all killed.  We thought we'd hit them all, and then the room when dark.  Isaac felt his way towards the entrance.  There was an abrupt edge to the darkness, and outside he could see fine, so he covered the door.  Wolfgang and Mason swung their arms wildly, but couldn't hit anything except the wall.

Mason felt his way to the far side of the living room, and in the hallway he could see again.  He went back the hall and found his wife and child tied up in the bedroom.  The window was broken out.  He cut them loose, and we all got out of the apartment.

An engine roared to life in the back, and we came down the stairs and outside just in time to see a motorcycle roar past, the elf hunched low.  Isaac shot at him, but didn't think he hit him.

We ransacked the apartment for evidence, and found a couple of machine guns and several cases of ammunition.  Looked like evidence to us, so we took it, and got out of there just ahead of the arrival of the cops.

***

Analysis of the confiscated materials revealed the bullets to be silver.  Stranger and stranger.

Mason's ex isn't speaking to him, but their kid is going to be fine, the surgery went ok.  He thinks he's lucky on both counts.

_Edit: petals are on flowers, pedals are on cars._


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## Horacio (Feb 28, 2003)

Good update


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## DanMcS (Feb 28, 2003)

We weren't having any luck tracking down the elf.  With no line on the bike and no way to accurately describe him to police, it was basically a crapshoot anyway.  We'll find him someday.

Wolfgang had told us he was kicked out of the army when he and his squad ran into some wierd critters while on patrol.  He and another guy refused to admit it was just "post-traumatic stress", so they got medical discharges for being whackos or something.  A couple of days into our hunt for the elf, Wolf tells us his buddy was coming into town.

This guy has been out west hunting shadow critters for a couple of years, and now he says he's tracked a bunch to central Ohio.  Werewolves.  This put the cache of silver bullets we found at the kidnapper's place in a whole new light.

Juan showed up, looking very psycho-ex-military in his fatigues and heavily modified van.  The resemblance between he and Wolfgang in that regard was a little telling.

Wolf, Juan, and Mason went to scout some of the outlying parks near Columbus, and check police and park ranger reports for mauled animals or hikers.

***

Meanwhile, Isaac was off on some personal business.  He had received a call a couple of weeks ago from a reporter, one Vallenne Malaterre.  She was doing a story on his recently deceased colleague, Clayton McKendrick.  McKendrick's daughter, Jenny, gave Isaac a call, and said that she had also been contacted by this reporter.  Isaac was suspicious of Malaterre, and agreed to meet Jenny for dinner to sort this out.

It turns out he had good reason to be suspicious.  Over dinner, it was revealed that Malaterre, while evidently a legit reporter, had grilled Jenny about her father's old collection, including various rare and occult books no reporter had business naming.

Isaac walked Jenny back to her car, planning to call the team and find what we could dig up on this reporter; she was still in town.  Maybe we'll drop in and interview her.  Isaac's plotting was interrupted when a half-dozen hulking wolfmen raced across the dusk-draped avenue and attacked the pair.  A couple grappled the girl, the rest snapped and clawed at Isaac.  He was unarmed, but tried to duck, weave, and trip the monsters to get to his car and get a gun.  He was bleeding from several claw-gashes, and a massive hairy fist to the back of his head sent Isaac sprawling into darkness.


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## DanMcS (Mar 1, 2003)

Wolfgang and Mason perched in Juan's van, peering out the windows as they coasted through night-shrouded Sharon Woods.  They'd seen naught but deer all night, and even a call to Mason's police contacts revealed no brutal murder/maulings to speak of.

"It's not like the skin changers are low profile," Juan mused.  "There should have been _something_, local murders, cattle mutilations, just an increase in sightings of wolves or wild dogs.  But not a peep."

Mason's phone chirped.  "Hey, Isaac...  I see.  You're alright?...  OK, we'll head down that way."

"What was that?"

"A peep."

***

Isaac had awakened to find a pair of cops kneeling over him.  Their smelling salts snapped him to consciousness, and he scrabbled backward before realizing these men weren't snarling.

He had stammered something to them about slipping on the ice and hitting his head, and they finally left after admonishing him to visit a doctor in the morning.

He held clenched in his fist the whole time, he knew not what, but it hadn't been there when he was beaten into unconsciousness.  He read it then hit speed-dial for Mason.

***

_My dearest Isaac,

It has come to my attention that you have something I want, and now we will make a trade.  The Tome for Ms. McKendrick.  Tonight at 12:15, Pierce Field in Grandview Heights.

Do not involve the police in any way.  If I see even one policeman, Ms. McKendrick dies.  If you arrive before midnight or after 12:30, Ms. McKendrick dies.  These are non-negotiable.  Please choose wisely.

Nicholae Stefanis_

***

Nicholae- wasn't that the name of the Vlad Dracul book-buyer at the auction?  Isaac had assumed it to be a fake name, so he'd never looked into it.  Cocky villain.

Isaac called Mason back and had them meet him at the reporter's hotel.  The hotel phone didn't answer, so we went up to the room.  Isaac thought he might have to break the door in, but it was ajar.  They swept in, guns drawn.

The place had been ransacked.  Mason gave it a trained once-over, and pronounced it a setup.  "These papers are very neatly scattered, and none of them have been stepped on or even ripped.  She must have ransacked her own room or something."

We did find some real clues; an empty package addressed to "Nicholae Stefanis, Konopiste hrad, Konopiste, Czech Republic".  The reporter's calendar noted interviews with the same, a couple of months ago; a flight was noted to Prague for a couple of days from now.  The reporter was in on it with Stephanis.  Nothing more to see here.

***

They regrouped at Daedalus' home.  The director was absent himself, having travelled west with Bronagh and Cedric the day before on some investigation or other.  Blast him.

"We have three hours.  We can't get there early.  What can we put together in three hours?  We'll need the book, too.  Where's Primrose?"

The elderly scholar tottered in.  He decried the idea of taking the book to Stephanis.  Isaac was fairly set, but the idea was proposed to take a fake instead.  Primrose said he could provide a magical copy which might foil any inspection, for a couple of hours at least.  He went to work on that.

We took stock of our resources.  A couple hundred silver rounds siezed from the elf, and machine pistols to use them.  Juan could provide some revolvers which would also fire those rounds.  He had silver for his own M16, and a spare, which Wolfgang would take.  Everyone got a revolver and a machine pistol, and several clips for each.  We debated arranging some explosives, but time was moving on, and we didn't want to be late.

Around 11:30 we collected the fake book and as much ammo as we could carry, piled into the two vans and pulled onto the outerbelt, southbound for the meeting.

***

Pierce Field was easy to find.  We parked the vans just off the road, on the south verge of a wooded plot, and nervously adjusted.

"We're not early, are we?"  Tighten a strap.

"No."  Flip open the revolver, eyeball the cylinders.

"Wish we had some night vision."  Pocket a collapsable baton.

"Me too."  Flip the revolver closed, goes in the jacket pocket.

"Maybe some white phosphorus, or just molotov cocktails..."  Safety off on the M16.

"We have what we have.  Let's get this over with."

They stalked through the woods toward the lit clearing ahead.  A little park lay here, with a couple lights and a burbling fountain.  Bound with duct tape by the fountain lay McKendrick.  Isaac hustled in to cut her loose, the rest trained weapons outward, looking for trouble.

"You have the book?  Lay it on the fountain."  Stephanis wafted in from the trees, smiling to himself.

Isaac held up the book, then set it down as directed.  "Here it is.  We'll just be going now, you have your book, have a nice night."

"I think not.  I've brought some friends for you.  Some you know from earlier tonight.  Others will be pleased to make your acquaintance."  Stephanis sort of shuddered, then actually _faded_ before our eyes, becoming as mist, and then, nothing.  He was gone.

Glowing eyes looked in from the woods, and the five of us backed in towards each other as the hulking shapes stepped to the edge of the circle of light.


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## DanMcS (Mar 3, 2003)

Eyes, eyes in the mist, glowing red eyes lurking between trees, in thu brush, eyes that would haunt our nightmares for months.

"I thought you said there were six of them."

"There _were_ six of them.  They brought friends."

Lots of friends.  Two dozen and more of the creatures, in looming hybrid form, stalked forward out of the trees on all sides.

The dull chatter of a TEC-9 announced our intentions; Wolfgang saw two of the creatures bunched together as they walked towards us and took the opportunity.

After that things happened very rapidly.  Juan acquitted himself well, laying down a deadly silver hail of fire from his M16 until that ran out.  His long experience fighting the skin changers showed.  He also popped a couple of tear gas grenades into the scrub- the wolf-men, with their heightened sense of smell, found this intolerable, and several fled.  After that Juan was down to pistols.

Mason and Isaac tried to defend their rescuee, but she panicked and ran off into the woods.  The creatures didn't follow, she apparently wasn't considered a threat, or a target.

Wolfgang did well, picking his shots and dropping the beasts methodically.  Isaac, out in the open after trying to protect Jenny, was surrounded and mauled into unconsciousness.  Mason and Wolf fought their way over to him and revived him with one of our carefully hoarded healing potions.  Wolfgang grabbed the fake book.  With Juan close behind, we fought our way into the woods, and down the path to our vans.  Four more of the creatures waited there.  The clips for the automatics were long gone, but with the last rounds in our revolvers we brought the last one down.  We found Jenny cowering in the brush, and peeled out of the lot for home.

***

We dropped McKendrick off, admonishing her to avoid the police and just lay low for a while.  She could call us if she needed us.

We headed for the manor.  Isaac seethed.  And where the hell had Daedalus taken off for, anyway?


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## projectdaedalus (Mar 3, 2003)

*Meanwhile in Chicago...*

"Algie?" a female voice called out from across the bookstore.

Marcos, a Panamanian seemingly far out of his element in a Chicago used bookstore, was nose-deep in a second-edition Fahrenheit 451 and did not hear the woman until her second beckoning.

He mumbled something, put the book back in its protective sleeve, and brought it with him to the front of the store.

"Closing time already?" he asked Louise Alderman, owner of the store, who was working the register.

She had a strange look on her face.  It was, after all, only 4 in the afternoon.  "No, Algie.  Someone is here to see you," she replied.

Marcos had not seen the two men in black Armani suits who were standing near enough to the front door to block it if need be.  In front of these behemoths was a woman in her mid-thirties, with curly, shoulder-length black hair, wearing a nice navy blue suit.  She had a certain look in her eye, as if her subject were a fine meal.

"You are Algie Marcos, I presume," she said coolly.

The Panamanian bowed his head a bit in deference to the beautiful lady.  "Algernon Marcos, at your service."

Louise Alderman stepped away from the register, unsure of what exactly was going on, and made her way to the office, where she could see the front, but was not in direct contact with anything or anyone in the vicinity.  She picked up the mobile phone from its cradle, and held her thumb on the Emergency button, ready to punch it and dial 9-1-1 if need be.

"Quite a find you've got there," the suited woman observed.

"Yes," Marcos replied.  "I don't think they know it's a second edition," he whispered.  "Priced at least $300 below what I can get for it on eBay."

"I'm sure you are quite proud, Mr. Marcos," she said.  "But I am not here to talk about that book."

"No?" he asked.

"Not all all," she answered.  "Another book.  You might know it as the 'Black Book'.  Does that ring any bells?"

Algie smiled.  "Heh, well I do have a little black book," he joked.  "I don't suppose it's really worth much."  Marcos started to sweat a little.  He was always nervous in front of a beautiful woman.

"Not quite," she replied.  "You acquired it in 1998 or early 1999, perhaps from an English gentleman."

Algie paused a moment to think.  "Eh, I think I might have bought something like that, yes," he said.  "But I sold it, if I'm thinking of the same book."

"This black book," the lady asked, "did you ever open it or read it?"

"I tried, but I couldn't," Marcos said.  "It was written in a very strange language.  I did not know it."

"Latin is not so strange," the lady pointed out.  "I'm sure a man of your scholarly aspirations knows Latin."

Marcos had been caught in a lie.  "I didn't read it.  Not really.  Why?"

"It doesn't really matter," she said.  The lady smiled and stepped closer to Marcos.  "It's not possible that you would have been able to make any sense of it anyway.  I can tell you didn't read it, Marcos.  I just had to be sure."

Algie noticed that the lady was less than a foot away from him, and this excited him a little.  "OK.  So?"

Her eyes met his, and a red flash, imperceptible to others, startled Marcos, and sapped his will.  "Tell me.  What happened to this book?"

"I sold it," Marcos replied.  "To a man in Rockford.  A little northwest of here.  Near the Wisconsin border."

"Very good," she said.  The lady casually put her arm around Marcos' shoulder.  "Let's go have a drink.  My friends are buying.  You can tell me more then."

Marcos left Alderman's without his second-edition Fahrenheit 451 in the company of the beautiful lady and her two hulking companions.  Very strange indeed.

Louise Alderman wasn't sure what to make of this incident.  She picked up the book, dusted it off a bit, repriced it, and put it back on the shelf where it belonged.


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## projectdaedalus (Mar 17, 2003)

*Meanwhile*

"Fascinating," the lady in black replied.  "Tell me, did he know anything about the Tome?"

She listened to the person on the other end of the phone conversation.

"That's too bad," she said.  "I hope it wasn't too messy."

She pressed 'END' and put down her cell phone.  _Too quiet in here, I think,_ she realized.  She heard something stirring outside her chamber.  _Perhaps a visitor..._

The double doors opened to reveal Agrias the Black, along with someone else more familiar.  "Agrias," she said, "I see you've brought along a friend."

Agrias smiled and ushered himself and the guest into the lady's vast chamber of darkness.  It would be hard for mortals to see at all in this chamber, but this was not a problem for Agrias, his lady mistress, or his guest.

"I have traveled a long way," the guest began.  "I would appreciate an update on the Tome."

The lady smiled and paused a moment.  "Stefanis," she replied, "I'm surprised you don't already know.  You are normally so well-connected."

"You can call me --" he began.

"Oh no," the lady interjected.  "I'm keen to play the game if you don't mind."

"Very well," Stefanis responded.  "In any event, the Tome is not in Chicago, but I have no further news.  Daori and his group would like to have the Tome as soon as possible.  I know you are well aware of this."

Agrias was not needed in this conversation, and was well aware that his presence might not be good for his health.  He quietly slipped away and out of the room.

"Your agents did not find the Tome in Chicago," the lady began.  "A book seller was questioned, but he revealed nothing of any immediate import, even under extreme duress."

"Go on."

"But after some special methods were used to extract information, the mortal said he sold the Black Tome to a Harold Myers in Rockford, a town that is believed to be near Chicago."

"I assume then that the agents have been dispatched to Rockford?" Stefanis asked.

"Indeed," the lady replied.  "Though they have run into a problem.  A mortal has opened and read the Tome."

"Impossible," Stefanis stated with indignity.  "He would have been slain immediately."

"Our information is that he learned the art of necromancy from its pages," the lady continued.  "This mortal even went so far as to create a minor army of zombies.  Can you believe that?"

Nicholae Stefanis paused to consider these events.  "Perhaps I should make an appearance to claim the Tome.  Surely this mortal will not resist me."

"I'm not so sure about that," the lady replied.  "Someone else is looking for the Black Tome of Naercis."

"Really?" Stefanis asked.  "Most interesting..."

"Eric Daedalus," the lady said.  "You know him?"

"No," Stefanis said.  "Not him specifically, but his family and I have a... special relationship."

The lady in darkness said nothing, allowing Stefanis to continue.

"They hunted me, somewhat successfully, more than a decade ago, before I went to Arcadia.  They are Knights Templar, and quite powerful.  Worthy adversaries, to be sure."

"Why would Daedalus or his family be interested in the book?" the lady asked.

"Would you believe that the Daedalus family believes they can dispatch Arcadians who have come to Earth back to Arcadia and close the gate?"

The lady laughed in a rather sickening way, followed by a rumble of amusement from Stefanis.

"Close _the_ gate?" the lady asked.  "Incredible!"

Stefanis crossed the room and shot a concerned look at the lady in darkness.

"No doubt Daedalus' interest in the Black Tome is to destroy it, or perhaps to learn more about the Midnight Legion," the lady remarked.

"Yes," Stefanis replied.  "We must act now to make sure he doesn't get the book.  If he or other Knights Templar are involved, we cannot reply solely on our mortal agents.  I will need to make an appearance."

"Very well," the lady said.  "I will make the arrangements."

"By this time tomorrow evening, perhaps the Black Tome of Naercis will be in our hands once again," Stefanis said, stepping out of the lady's chamber and into the corridor.

The lady in darkness smiled and picked up her phone.


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## DanMcS (Apr 8, 2003)

*Session 10*

So basically, we've been sitting around HQ, stewing.  Daedalus hasn't called to check in, and his cell is off.  So is Bronagh's.  And Cedric couldn't operate a cell phone even if they had one sized for his big minotaur paws.

Primrose knows they went to Minneapolis.  Has no idea why.  He's been tutoring me a little in spells during all this free time, but isn't good for much real-world info.

So, we did the logical thing, and broke into Daedalus' office.

We found some notes, names and addresses mostly.  A couple had the note 'ML' by them- Midnight Legion perhaps?  Old boy couldn't give us a heads-up before he went to investigate evil cultists?  Wait, here's a receipt for some shipping, he sent some stuff ahead with the "General Courier Service," to Jeremy Armour at a hotel in Minneapolis.  Never heard of any of them.

Mason called their 800 number.

"Hello"

"Yeah, I'm calling about a package my boss shipped, I want to find out if it arrived.  Name is Eric Daedalus."

<<click>>

"... the heck...  They hung up on me, right after I told them who I worked for."

"Wierd," opined Isaac.

Out of the blue, Wolfgang had a good idea.  "Maybe 'Armour' is the name you should ask for.  Like Daedalus' alias."

"I'm not calling back.  They hate me already."

"Let me."  Isaac took the phone and hit redial.

"Hello."

"Don't hang up!  I'm calling about a package you shipped to Minneapolis, to Jeremy Armour."

***

So, it turns out Daedalus owns a shipping company.  Who knew?  It's the one he has been using to ship stuff quietly around the country, and makes him a little money on the side.  They had a room number for him in Minneapolis, and said the stuff had been delivered, but didn't know much else.  We tried calling that room, but no one answered.  Figures.  Looks like we're headed to Minnesota.


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## DanMcS (Apr 8, 2003)

After that whole werewolf fiasco we've taken to having our gear handy at all times.  Not getting caught napping again, no sir, not us.  So it was fairly simple to grab everything, toss it in the van, and go.  We told Dumbledore to call ahead and get us a room in the same hotel, and we'd check in periodically.  I don't remember ever actually checking in with him, but we told him we would to make him feel  better.

***

A cutaway later, and we pulled into the hotel in Minneapolis.  Holiday Inn, only the best for our boss.  We checked into our room, dropped off our bags, and went to check out Daedalus' room.  It's gotten so that breaking into it barely bothered us anymore.

Nobody there- no big surprise.  They left a keycard, so we can get back in here if we need to.  Found Daedalus' laptop, and a bag we assumed was Bronagh's- it had some snips, screwdrivers, and a pound of high explosives in a little plastic baggie.  We miss that girl.

After a little work, I got the laptop to boot off a disk and poked around the hard drive.  Almost everything was encrypted.  Bugger.  We did find a note about the Brimstone Club that all these ML types belonged to, apparently.  _That_ name didn't conjure visions of happy fluffy kittens.  You'd think these evil types would learn.  If they called it the 'Minneapolis Philatelic Society' nobody would ever investigate their boring asses, and they could get away with all the evil they wanted.

We got the local paper and headed into town to investigate the cheerful bunnies.

***

Apparently (coincidence?  I think not!) the Evil Ones had their big annual celebration (an annual ceremony?  by an evil cult?  you don't say!) coming up in a couple days.  The Founder's Ball.  From what we could tell, everyone who was anyone in town was a member, and they were all wealthy, secretive, and gave heavily to charities.  It all screamed evil to us.  They probably had Eric, Bronagh, and Cedric locked in their compound, ready to sacrifice at midnight at the Founder's Ball to whatever demon provided them all with this unnatural prosperity.  Today was the fifth, the party was the ninth, so we had a couple of days to break in there.

Did I mention they had a compound?  This big, old, mansion-looking building near the center of town.  Wrought-iron fence around the whole thing, private limosine fleet, armed guards, security cameras, the whole nine yards.  Probably an evil summoning circle or altar or something in there somewhere.

According to the paper, there had been a bear attack outside the front gate a couple of days ago.  Police and animal control were called, but they never found it.

We walked uptown to check out this place.  No way we were getting in there.  Mason and Isaac conferred over a street map, and Wolfgang wandered off to get the lay of the land.  He saw a young kid checking us out.  The kid spotted Wolf, and took off.  Wolfgang, logically, chased him.  He yelled into his radio, "I'm chasing the kid!"  We, of course, had no idea what he was talking about, but we saw him running down the street a hundred yards away, and took off after him.

The kid turned the corner into an alley.  All the signals screamed "Danger, danger!"  Wolfgang ignored them, and ran right after him.  He pulled up face to face with a nervous, cornered kid pointing a gun straight into his face.  "Whoa."


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## DanMcS (Apr 8, 2003)

Wolfgang raised his hands and adopted an innocent look.  He hoped.  "Hey there, just calm down, I just wanted to talk to you."  The barrel of the gun sure looked a lot bigger from this end.

"Back off, man.  You a cop?  Why were you chasing me?"

Wolfgang shook his head.  "No, not a cop.  Listen, just point the gun down, ok?"  The kid glanced behind Wolfgang for a second, to see a couple more guys come skidding around the corner.  Wolfgang took his chance.

He spun sideways to avoid the shot, as his hand shot out and snatched the gun right out of the kid's grip.  He tried to play it off cool, yeah, I do this every day, but his adrenaline was surging and his hand kind of kept shaking as he dropped the clip out of the gun and jacked back the slide to eject the round.

The kid was unphased.  "Gimme that back."

"Or what, you'll scowl at me?"  No answer.  "Listen, are you around here a lot?  Did you see the bear attack at that mansion a couple of days ago?"  No answer.  "Come on, kid, help me out, I'll give you your gun back."

Scowl.  "Wierdest bear I ever saw.  Had horns.  Buncha guys came running out of there, with guns and swords, like.  They shot the bear, and it ran off."

"Do you know where it went?"

"Naw, but one of the guys I was with might know."

"Can we speak to him?"

The kid looked at us dubiously.  "Suppose so.  They're over at the basketball court by the park.  You know it?"

Isaac and Mason were listening behind Wolfgang.  "Take us there, kid, we'll give you 50 bucks."

***

Caruthers took us to visit his friends.  They were at the basketball court, all right, but weren't playing ball.  We didn't inquire too closely as to their line of business.

Their leader eyed us as we strolled in with Caruthers.  "What can I do for you?"

"We heard you might have been around the Brimstone Club the day of the bear attack."

"I might have.  Didn't have anything to do with that though."

"We know.  We're interested in the bear.  Did you see where it went?"

"Sure did.  Broke into this old house down an alley back there.  Never saw it come out either."

"Can you have someone show us?  I'm sure you're a very busy man, but it would really help us out."

"Now why should I do that?"  The gang leader's cell phone rang.  "Yeah?  Damn.  OK."  He hung up.  "We have some company coming, you better clear out of here."  He promptly ignored us and started issuing orders to the guys standing around.

Caruthers looked worried.  Mason asked him, "What's going on?"

"Another crew coming in, they're after us for some reason.  Gimme back my gun, man."  Mason thought about it, then handed it back.  We all headed toward the far end of the court, where there was an exit.

6 or 8 guys came in the far side, heading towards the gang we'd been talking to.  Both sides whipped out their guns and started firing wildly.  Neither side were good shots at all, ducking and running while trying to shoot, but it looked like the visitors were pulling ahead.

"We need this guy's help to find Cedric."
"I don't really want to get in a gang fight."
"We're already IN it, and we're the only ones not shooting."

Isaac and Wolfgang drew, and fired a couple of shots towards the rival gang.  We might have even hit some of them, though the range was pretty long.  This new attack on their flank shook them, and they took off pretty quick.

"I guess you guys are all right.  I'll have the kid here take you down to the house, he knows which one I mean.  You all need anything else?"

"Um, do you happen to know anyone who's good with documents?"

***

The kid hung out on the sidewalk watching out for us while Isaac, Mason, and Wolfgang ascended the rickety stairs.  The door had been broken in during some long-forgotten police raid, and stood propped against the wall.  It was dark inside, but we could just make out dried brown stains on the floor.  Mason said they were fairly recent.

We clicked on our flashlights and crept inside.  Isaac peeled off to check a room on the left, and Mason stood in the hall keeping an eye on the door.  The floorboards creaked and groaned.

They weren't the only thing.  Wolfgang rounded the corner and heard groaning, or growling.  He pulled his pistol, and whispered, "Cedric?"  He danced the flashlight beam around the walls every which way, and caught a glimpse of something looming in the doorway across the room.  Big, reflective eyes.

***

Wolfgang's bloodcurdling shriek came back around the corner; Mason and Isaac sprinted around the corner, guns drawn.


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## DanMcS (Apr 9, 2003)

Wolfgang froze still, pointing his flashlight and pistol at the beast.  It tossed it's shaggy head and growled low in its throat.  It sniffed at him.

"Rrrr?"

"Hey there, Cedric, it's me, Wolfgang.  Looks like you're bleeding there.  You recognize me, right?"

***

Cedric told us he had gone with Daedalus and Bronagh to break into the Brimstone mansion.  Daedalus had done something, a spell we surmised, to disguise Cedric.  They got to the door, but then the doorman looked right at Cedric and raised an alarm.  Armed gunmen came running, and a few people that looked like they were wearing armor, and carrying swords.  Cedric ripped up a couple of the guards but had to retreat, and he didn't know what happened to the other two.

Isaac gave the kid his $50 and got his cell number so we could get ahold of him later.  He told us his boss might be able to help us out.

We decided to stash Cedric in our hotel room.  Wolfgang and Mason doubletimed it a couple of blocks back to the hotel and Isaac stayed with Cedric.  We wrapped him in a blanket and hustled him into the back of the van, then up the back stairs to the hotel room.  We gave him one of our last few healing potions and left him in bed watching cartoons.

***

The little plastic sign twisted and swung on the doorknob to the room, proclaming *DO NOT DISTURB*.

***

We headed back downtown.  Minneapolis apparently had a network of pedestrian tunnels for use in winter.  The Brimstone Club building lay overtop of one, so we went down to scope it out.

Bad men love tunnels, right?  Apparently these did, at least.  Right underneath the Club, as far as we could tell, there was a big arch cut in the wall of the tunnel.  It was bricked up, though.  Very wierd.  We tapped on it and poked around, but the only way we were getting through this thing was with a jackhammer.

***

We sat in our van across the street from the Club.  "What are we going to do now?  That place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox."

As if in answer, the driveway gate of the Club opened, and one of the fleet limosines pulled out onto the street and accellerated smoothly away.  "Follow it!"

We trailed the limo all the way to the airport, then watched as it picked someone up.  It was getting dark now and we closed in a little to make sure we didn't lose it.  The limo turned off the freeway well before downtown, into a suburb.  We twisted through several side streets then watched in defeat as it pulled into a gated community.  Mason pulled into a small lot and threw the van into park.

We jumped out, ran over, and fairly vaulted the fence beside the road.

"They're dropping someone off, right?  We just wait for the limo to come back."

"And then?"

"We jump out in front of it and make them stop."

"And then?"

"We, um, force the driver to tell us who they dropped off, where, and all about the evil Founder's Ball?"

"Dude, you're an idiot."

"Hssst, here comes the limo, shut up and get down."

We hid in the bushes and watched as our elusive quarry rolled right by, out the gate, and into the night.

***

They'd only been gone a couple of minutes.  We used Mason's cell to check nearby addresses and found a member of the Brimstone Club who lived here.  Hugh Vasilauskas, elderly gent, founder of some big company, wealthy, international traveller, the whole 'evil mastermind' package.  We stood across the street from his front gate.

"Wanna go in?"

"_You_ go right ahead.  I'll see you later."

"Come on.  We can get in there no problem.  He's an old guy, he's probably asleep already."

The front gate had two mounted cameras and a call box.  We checked it out, decided our chances of knocking out the cameras with a rock were pretty slim, and were about to go, when the call box crackled.
"Are you gentlemen going to debate all night, or are you going to come in for a drink?"


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## DanMcS (Apr 15, 2003)

The gate rolled open with a whirring of a motor.  A uniformed guy pulled up in a golf cart and looked at us expectantly.  We shrugged, and got on board.

The house was even bigger than it looked from the road.  Hugh was waiting for us on the front steps.  He led the way in the door and around the corner to a sitting room.  "What can I do for you gentlemen?"

"Ah, um, we're reporters, yeah, that's right, for the, er, AP."

"Really?"  A raised eyebrow.  "Would you like that drink?"

"Water?"  Isaac ventured.
"Water's good."  Mason agreed.
"Got any scotch?"  A brave lad, Wolfgang.

"Indeed."  This guy was so cheerful, it was creepy.  We'd been out sneaking around his property, and here he was treating us like invited guests.  "And what are you reporting on?"

"Vasco Industries."  "The Brimstone Club."

"Perhaps I'll just give you a moment to get your stories straight."

"Yeah, thanks."  The old guy stepped out.

"What are we doing here?"
"We got invited in."
"SO?!  This guy's insane.  We've got to bail."
"Maybe we can trick some info out of him."
"Like what?  How to cook our brains?"
"Ask him about the Founder's Ball."
"Shh, he's coming back."

"You all sure what you're doing here now?"

"Yes, sir.  We're reporting on the Founder's Ball, and were doing a sidebar on some of the members of the club.  You, for instance. What can you tell us about the Ball?"

"Oh, it's a yearly thing, we bring in the media like yourself, local luminaries, all the members of course, have a big dinner and dance.  Good PR, all that.  You are attending, yes?"

"Sure thing.  And what does the Brimstone Club, itself, do, the rest of the year I mean?"

"It's a social type club.  Charity events, dinners, insider trading advice...  I'm kidding of course.  We do lunches, not dinners."

"Ah, heh, heh, yes, very amusing."

"I'm really not very involved with the day-to-day events of the club, being gone so much."

"Yes, well, that's all we needed for our, um, background, we'll just be going now."

"Certainly.  One of my men will show you out.  See you at the ball."

***

"That guy was entirely too helpful.  Something's not right there."

"Well, we got out alive.  Any meeting you walk away from is a good one, I always say."

"No you don't."

"I'm gonna start."

"We've got to pick up our credentials and invite tomorrow."

"I hope the forgers do a good job."

***

Isaac, dealing in books for a couple of years now, had some passing familiarity with the art of creating documents, and decided the reporter's badges and invitation would pass any but the most serious inspection.  Hopefully we could avoid that, or our stay at the dinner party would be short.


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