# He's a Chain-Smoking Detective. He's a Robot on the Lam. Together, They Fight Crime!



## Pell-Mell (Mar 20, 2007)

[H1]THE CASE FILES OF CHANCE AND NINE[/H1]​[H2]- Session 9 (Part 1): The Gangs All Here -[/H2]​[H2]- Updated March 23, 2008 -[/H2]​

*INTRODUCTION*

I have recently begun to run a homebrew D&D 3.5 campaign for two of my friends. Both are fairly new to D&D 3.5, but have played AD&D 2nd edition in the past. As time goes on, I hope to fill in some of the details of the setting, but there should be enough detail to get the story rolling. I do use published modules, so I have marked which ones I have used in the CASE FILES section. Comments and questions regarding the campaign or storyhour are welcome.


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## Pell-Mell (Mar 20, 2007)

*CHARACTERS*

*Dirk Chance*
_Human Rogue_

Dirk is a smooth-talking, chain-smoking, perpetually unshaven man in his late twenties. Born in the city of Asheril, a sprawling metropolis and the largest trading hub on the Continent, he has a rather checkered past. However, he has always been plagued by a conscience unusual for a native son of a city whose only concern is money and power. Growing tired of living with the injustices routinely ignored by the corrupt police forces of Asheril, he started a small private investigation office. 

The agency floundered for several years as Dirk was unable to secure a dependable partner. All this changed following a chance encounter with the Lud-Man known as Case Nine.

*Case Nine*
_Warforged Fighter_

Pulled from the strangeness that surrounds the ruins of Old Lud, Case Nine was one of several Lud-Men (also known as warforged or robots) retrieved in an expedition conducted by the Xummax Group. Old Lud had once been a grand civilization, filled with technological marvels far beyond anything available in the current day. However, a devastating war with the ancient Eastern Empire destroyed Lud and plunged a huge swath of the Continent into an unending maelstrom.

The Xammux Group, one of the many companies that have their headquarters in the factory city of New Lud, conducted all manner of experiments on the reactivated warforged in an attempt to divine the secrets of the eldritch technologies that gifted these wondrous machines with true consciousness. The fact that each of the machine-men was inevitably driven insane by the group's tinkering was considered an acceptable cost of the project.

Case Nine, who was the ninth warforged to be retrieved by the project, managed to escape before he was experimented on. Wandering south through an unfamiliar world, he eventually made way to the city of Asheril. Unaware of the city's Non-Traditional Sentient Hosting and Registration (No-TraSH) Act of '17, which among other things requires all non-exempt undead and constructs to have a registered owner, he was almost scrapped by the city. It was only the timely intervention of Dirk, who calmly talked the bewildered robot out of the situation, which saved him from this fate. 

Case Nine first became Dirk's bodyguard than graduated to partner in their agency.


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## Pell-Mell (Mar 20, 2007)

*CASE FILES*

FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN [or THE SUNLESS CITADEL]
FILE 002: THE CASE OF THE STOLEN KEY [or MAD GOD'S KEY]


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## Pell-Mell (Mar 20, 2007)

*CASE FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN*
_Session 1: Out of the City, Into the Desert_

The Orion '23, the pride of the autocart industry of New Lud some 20 years past, roared across the desert.1 The unshaven man at the wheel fiddled with the radio, switching between rebel radio stations broadcasting out of the Protectorate2 and the screams of ghosts in the ethereal, the dead finding voice in forgotten frequencies. The robot beside him sat silently and stared out the window. 

They were seven days out of the city of Asheril and almost out of fuel and money. But they weren't out of luck. The day before they caught a break at a nameless crossroad town and found a woman who remembered seeing their quarry several months prior. The woman had pointed them toward Oakford, a little nothing town on the edge of the Vast Waste, and the duo had spared no time in making their way there.

The unshaven man lit a cigarette off the end of another, throwing the smoldering butt out the window, and let out a long stream of smoke. Pointing at a rapidly approaching bullet-pocked sign that read "Oakford - 5 Miles: Last Food and Fuel Before Wastes" in sun-faded paint, Dirk said, "Looks like we are almost there. Let's go over what we know one more time, Case." The warforged to his right took out a grimy, dog-eared manila folder from the glove compartment and began sorting through the file. Finding what he wanted, the robot began to rattle off the details of the case file: 


*Name of Target:* Braford, Isaiah. 
*Designation:* Warrior Priest of the Cult of the Seven Lords of Light. 
*Last Seen:* Three standard months ago. Was supposed to return a month ago.
*Reason Given for Leaving:* Religious pilgrimage. 
*Destination:* Unknown.
*Mission:* Track down and retrieve Braford.
*Requester:* Brother Lusin, Head Priest of the Cult of the Seven Lords of Light.
*Reward*: 500 gp.
In his thick metal fingers, Case Nine held a creased photograph of a smiling young man with tussled hair in heavy armor. In the background was some kind of celebration. Beneath the picture, in scrawled cursive, was "Isaiah -- Graduation". The warforged looked at the photo for a few moments before sliding it beneath the rusty paperclip that held it to the file.

*   *   *​
Less than ten minutes after seeing the sign, the Orion pulled into the small town of Oakhurst. It was late afternoon as the duo cruised down the main street, looking for someone to ask about the lost holy man. Though there were some townsfolk out on the streets, no one raised their eyes to the strangers and those they passed quickly disappeared into buildings.

The reason for the reaction of the townsfolk quickly became clear. Almost all of the buildings bore some form of damage from recent battle. Bullet holes stood out on the sides of buildings. The unmistakable circular scorch marks of _fireballs_ marred the main drag. Seeing that no one would talk to them, they drove out of town and circled back, Dirk soon finding what he was looking for: a saloon.

Dirk pulled the car up to the front of the saloon, which was called the "Ol' Boar Saloon", and startled a tired looking horse that was tied to the railing. Getting out, Dirk stretched and looked up and down the now deserted street, "Must have got caught in the dust-up between the Protectorate and New Lud a couple of years ago." Suppressing a shiver, he continued, "Hope they didn't have to deal with the fallout from the ghoul-bombing."3 Case Nine said nothing as he exited the vehicle and pulled a tattered poncho over his metallic form, his face now lost in the deep shadows of the hood.

Nonchalantly adjusting the pistol beneath his leather jacket, Dirk made his way up the creaking wooden stairs and through the batwing doors of the saloon, Case Nine looming behind him. The inside of the saloon was dimly lit by several kerosene lanterns and its few denizens stared from the deep shadows, sizing up the outsiders. An ancient piano hulked in one corner, a small man at the keys ineptly plunking out a tune. The duo made their way across the sawdust covered floor, Dirk sidling up to the bar while Case Nine stood behind him, keeping an eye out for trouble.

Lighting a cigarette and ordering a beer, Dirk made small talk with the bartender, an older fellow whose name was Garon. Taking the photograph of Braford from the pocket of his jacket, he slid it across the bar toward Garon, saying "Have you seen this guy? Maybe a couple of months ago? Maybe sooner." The bartender picked up the picture and squinted in the poor light, "Sure did. Came in here fresh from the road maybe a month or so ago. Can't tell you rightly when exactly."

The bartender paused for a moment, than continued, "Seemed real interested in some ruins outside of town. Nothing out there but goblins though. And well, the magic apple." Dirk arched an eyebrow, "A magic apple, huh?" Ganon nodded, "Sounds crazy, I know. Every year the goblins from the ruins come out with this apple that is supposed to cure whatever ails you. I don't buy it, but we got a few in town that swear that it cured this or that. Me? I don't trust anything those gobbo's bring up. Just where are they getting an apple in the wastes anyway? It is bad magic, I tell you."

Ganon shook the photo of Braford and handed it back to Dirk, "Anyway, this fellah here gets all excited when I mention this apple. He practically runs out of the Boar. I see him talking to a couple of his buddies outside and they take off. I found out later he went to the ruins. No one has seen him since." He paused for a moment and smiled, "Now, I am guessing you are going to want to know where these ruins are?" Dirk smirked at the old man, "You got me." Ganon gave directions to the ruins, which were several miles outside of town and deep within a great rent in the earth. Snuffing out his cigarette in an ashtray, Dirk said his thanks to Ganon and slipped the last of the duo's gold coins across the bar. The bartender snatched the coin with eerily quickness and they vanished just as swiftly into his pockets.

*   *   *​
Returning to their car, Dirk and Case rode out of town and followed the old man's directions to the ruins. The road there was little more that an overgrown path and progress was slow. Several times they passed the crumbling shells of old buildings and it was more than an hour before they reached the great rift that was their destination. Around this rent stood many leaning stone pillars, aged smooth by weather and time.

Dirk parked the Orion and Case got out and opened the trunk. Case Nine pushed aside several dirty blankets and took out a heavy duffel bag. Unzipping it, he began to unload a veritable armory, including Dirk's short sword and his Murlynd's Chainshirt.4 Case Nine took out his own Dragon Rifle and quickly checked it over.5 He then slung it over his shoulder and took his primary weapon out of the trunk, his greathammer.6 Gathering some other miscellaneous supplies, such as food, alchemic items, and ammunition, the two went over to the side of the ravine to determine their decent.

Around one of the pillars the duo found a rope tied, but they could not see how far it went down. Dirk activated a sunrod and dropped into the pit, the bright light illuminated a stony outcrop where the rope ended and a crude set of stairs that lead deeper into the earth could be seen. In addition, several huge rats seemed to be lingering near the end of the rope, looking up with beady eyes. Startled by the bright light, the rats bolted into the shadows. Case Nine made his way down the rope, having little to fear from the vermin. As the warforged made his way to the outcrop, the rats surged from their hiding places and attempted to attack the robot. However, the duo made quick work of them as Case Nine slaughtered them with his greathammer and Dirk picked one off with his pistol. He then climbed down to join his friend.

Working their way down the stairs, they found several more outcrops in the wall. At the second of these, Dirk called a halt as he noticed something in the dim light filtering down from the surface. After a few moments, he made out something in the vast darkness in front of them. A huge fortress, seemingly sunken whole into the earth, could be seen and it appeared the stairs they were working their way down emptied into a large courtyard in front of the ruin. Descending safety, the duo made their way across the shattered courtyard, scanning either side for any more of the giant rats, and made their way to a massive door that was the entrance to the fortress.

After declaring the door free of any traps, Dirk stood aside and Case Nine pushed the great door open. Even before the door was fully open, it became clear that there was something dead in the room beyond, for a great stench issued from the darkness. Dirk, pistol in one hand and sunrod in the other, entered the room, the harsh light of the alchemic rod revealing a grisly scene. Four dead goblins lay strewn about a circular room with two doors, each of the corpses in an advanced state of decay. One still lay pinned to the far wall by the spear that had killed it.

Dirk gave a sign to Case Nine to wait for a moment and the warforged did, his greathammer at the ready. When the bodies failed to animate, the duo quickly searched the room and rolled them, finding a few silver coins of unfamiliar mint. However, when Dirk pulled the spear out of the goblin that was pinned to the wall, he found a single word inscribed in the stone beneath. Recognizing the elaborative script to be the tongue of dragons, he read the word to be "Ashardalon". However, the word meant nothing to either Dirk or Case, so they continued further into the ruin.

*   *   *​
Choosing the door to their right, Dirk put his ear to the door and carefully listened. He was surprised when he heard a muffled sound that seemed to be someone weeping. After checking the door for traps and finding none, he carefully opened it and saw a short hallway that had two doors along its length and one at its end. Listening intently, he found that the weeping appeared to be coming from the door at the end of the hallway. Moving as quietly as they could, the duo crept forward toward the sound.

Motioning to Case Nine to stand still, Dirk tucked his sunrod beneath his chain shirt and quietly cracked the door. The embers of a dying fire feebly lit a large chamber and Dirk waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Soon he was able to make out a small form huddled next to a fire pit, as well as a nearby iron cage, its bars bent and mangled. Slowing his breathing, he carefully listened as well, only hearing the sleepy mutterings of the cloaked figure and the distant squeal and rustle of what sounded like small animals. His short sword out, the rogue slipped into the room and silently padded his way to the creature sleeping fitfully by the fire.

Using the point of his sword to move aside the tattered blanket, Dirk carefully revealed the slumbering creature. In the dim light, he could make out a scrawny kobold, its scaly hide stitched with jagged scars. Giving a signal to Case Nine, the warforged made his way into the room, the clanking of the heavily armored warforged startling the kobold awake. Dirk, who had shifted his sword to the kobold's throat, whispered to the creature, "Do you understand Pell-Mell?"7

The kobold nodded and looked at the human and warforged, its eyes filled with surprise and fear. Dirk continued, "We want to ask you a couple questions. Just answer quietly and you won't make us hurt you. We are looking for a human who may have passed through here. He looks like this." He fished the photograph of Braford from beneath his armored shirt and showed it to the kobold, "Seen him?" The kobold nodded and began, "Yes! Yes! The humans came from Above World! But you must speak to the queen!" Dirk turned to the Case Nine, who shrugged, and then back to the kobold, "Get up and take us to her. No funny business, we have no problems with your people. By the way, got a name?" Getting to his feet, the kobold said, "Meepo! Come with me."

As he said this, there was a snap from the deeper shadows and then the skittering of dozens of claws on stone. A swarm of squealing rats suddenly appeared and leapt with mad fury onto the duo as the kobold scrambled back in terror. Using his great hammer, Case Nine effortlessly smashed the creatures and sent corpses flying in all directions. Dirk was more deliberate with his blade, skewering the creatures with his short sword. Soon all the rats were dead and the air was filled with stink of blood and death. 

The kobold looked at the scattered corpses of the rats and then looked back to duo with wide eyes, "You are strong! You can get Calcryx! We go now, we must talk to the queen!"


*Notes:*

1 The Orion '23 looks suspiciously like a 1959 Cadillac Series 62, except it is a hard-top.
2 The Protectorate is a collective of city-states to the west of Asheril known for their strict government and tyrant leaders. 
3 A recent war between the city-states of the Protectorate and New Lud was brought to an end when New Lud deployed a hitherto unknown weapon: the ghoul-bomb. The weapon spread a virulent, communicable, air-born form of ghoul fever, causing a massive outbreak of ghouls in a major civilian area.
4 A brand of armor. Murlynd Industries produces a number of high-quality armors made of proprietary alloys. In game mechanics, it is mithral.
5 We use Monte Cook's Firearms Rules
6 The greathammer is a custom weapon for the setting and is essentially a massive sledge hammer. In game mechanics, it uses the same statistics as a greataxe, except it is a bludgeoning weapon.
7 Pell-Mell in the most commonly spoken language in the region and the equivalent of Common in the setting.


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## Hatchling Dragon (Mar 26, 2007)

Definately an interesting and fun read, looking forward to more.  Always keen to see how people mix Fantasy and Technology, not to mention I liked the orignal Adventure Path series.


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## Hammerhead (Mar 26, 2007)

Fun. By the way, *great* title.


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## Dr Simon (Mar 26, 2007)

I love the setting details, gives me a frisson of Jack Vance and Alfred Bester. It's where they should have gone with Eberron, IMO, but wimped out.  Looking forwards to more.


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## Hatchling Dragon (Mar 27, 2007)

Dr Simon said:
			
		

> I lovethe setting details, gives me a frisson of Jack Vance and Alfred Bester. It's where they should have gone with Eberron, IMO, but wimped out.  Looking forwards to more.




This came close to what I was thinking when I first read it.  I took the mention of a war with the Eastern Empire to mean Sarlona, and the references to a great ancient civilization (Old Lud), all combined to mean that this is the future and there was a war with Sarlona that was so brutal it knocked people back a few notches on the Civilization meter.

Upon further thought it's much less likely this is how things truely are. On the other hand  history's fun in that you can simply change whatever you want and put it down as a recent revelation of the 'true history'.  You could even have everyone else insist that the old version is the truth and refuse to believe anything to the contrary.

So, when's the next installment going to be?


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## Dr Simon (Mar 27, 2007)

I'd like to just say that I prefer the background details doled out in footnotes, as you've done here, rather than a huge post of exposition.  It's a lot easier to read, IMO.


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## Pell-Mell (Mar 31, 2007)

*CASE FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN*
_Session 2: Attack of the Big F'ing Spiders_

Dirk fished a crushed box of Belkers1 from the inner pocket of his leather jacket, frowning at the state of affairs as he flipped the lid open. Half full and all mangled. Picking the best of a poor lot, he lit the cigarette with a practiced motion of his lighter. Exhaling a plume of smoke, he nodded at the kobold, "Lead away, kiddo. By the way, the name is Dirk." Gesturing to the Lud-Man, he said, "This here is Case Nine."  The kobold bobbed his head rapidly in confirmation as he frantically scrambled for his meager possessions. Grabbing a crude spear and a rusty knife, he headed off for a shadowy corner of the room, gesturing for the duo. Dirk took out his sunrod and followed, Case Nine close behind him.

They were led through darkened chambers and halls, the splendor of the ruins still evident after untold eons. Elaborate dragons wound around pillars that supported ceilings that vaulted into darkness and fading frescos of wyrms lording over races of antiquity, some familiar and some forgotten, still clung to the walls. From the shadows, kobold warriors swarmed at the sight of the interlopers, sharp spears at the ready, despite the urgings of Meepo.

At the end of a long hall, Dirk and Case were brought to a great room that was dominated by a massive throne. Upon the throne, which was carved in the shape of a dragon, sat a kobold garbed in rich but faded robes and a thin silver crown. Splayed around the ruler were six kobold warriors dressed in leather armor and wielding spears.

The kobold upon the throne raised her hand to the outsiders and spoke in surprising good Pell-Mell, "Above-Worlders! I am Yusdrayl, Queen of the Children of the Dragon and Scion of Ashardalon, King of All Dragons and Destroyer of Worlds!" At the invocation of the name of the ancient dragon, all the kobolds bowed their head in reverence. The queen then turned her unblinking gaze to Meepo, "Lowly Meepo, why have you brought the Above-Worlders into the most sacred lair of our people."

Meepo's voice trembled as he spoke, "They have come for the other Above-Worlders who sought the magic apple. They are mighty warriors and can hel ... " The queen of the kobolds silenced Meepo with a gesture, the scrawny kobold cowering and covering his face with his spindly arms. Yusdrayl sunk back into her throne, "That is for me to decide!" Turning to Case and Dirk, "The Above-Worlders you seek have gone deep into this mighty fortress. The area they have entered is controlled by goblins ..." she turned an spat in disgust before continuing, " ... who infest this holy place. If they live, they are with them."

"My people seek to slay these goblins and regain our rightful place in the House of Ashardalon." Once more, heads were bowed. "But they are a strong and devious lot. One of their greatest warriors has recently raided our area and kidnapped an ice dragon wyrmling in our care." She stared at Dirk and Case, her head cocked to one side and her eyes narrowing. Her long mouth quirked into a fanged grin as an idea formed in her clever mind, "Perhaps we can help each other."

"If you enter the goblin territories and retrieve the ice dragon Calcryx, we will allow you to pass through our area unharmed and rest in safety among my people." Case and Dirk looked at each other and shrugged. Dirk spoke, "Good enough." He then smiled and turned on the old Chance charm, "Queen Yusdrayl, we are strangers in this land and we will need a guide." The queen nodded, "Take Meepo. He is worthless to us. He has failed in keeping his ward, the ice dragon, safe from harm and has so failed his people." At the declaration, the scrawny kobold hung his head in shame.

*   *   *​
Meepo led Dirk and Case Nine out of the kobold lair and into the contested zone between the warring tribes of humanoids. Slipping into an area known to be infrequently visited by either side, the duo hoped to sneak into the goblin territories by the backdoor. Moving down twisting halls and long abandoned chambers, they soon came upon a room with a strange stone door, a dusty fountain adorned with swooping dragons and a large archway that led into darkness.

Despite the urgings of the kobold to continue, the duo decided to have a look around. Ignoring the fountain, Dirk quickly examined the stone door, which was graven with diving dragons and soaring drakes, and found that it had neither handle nor knob. Holding his sunrod close, he found a passage carved into the door in Draconic. He read it out loud as "Tana Aman Heka Men", which translated into Pell-Mell as "Channel good, open the way". Looking back to Case and Meepo, he said, "Mean anything to either of you?" The robot and kobold shook their heads. "Me either." Turning around, he jerked his thumb to the door and nodded to Case Nine, "You know what to do."

The Lud-Man gripped his greathammer and began to batter down the stone door, each thunderous blow echoing up and down the empty halls. Dirk lit a fresh cigarette and ventured to the large archway, Meepo by his side. As he flipped his lighter closed and looked up, the smoldering cigarette fell from his slackening mouth and all color drained from his face. Meepo gripped his leg and whimpered as he caught sight of the monstrosities lurching toward them.

The things were clearly of spider stock, but each was the size of a large dog, and warped either by long inbreeding or the weirdness of distant Lud.2 One had a head clustered with ill-formed black eyes; one was thick with weeping tumors; one had twice as many legs as it needed and dragged the useless quivering appendages along. All had dripping fangs that twitched in anticipation.

In-between swings of his hammer, the sensors of Case Nine noted certain anomalies in the breathing patterns of Dirk and Meepo and peculiar new sounds. Given prior experience, current environment, and results of complex risk algorithms, there was a 96.387% probability of an untoward event occurring in the immediate time-frame. Turning about, the warforged caught sight of the chittering abominations and his fear-frozen comrades. Sensing no threat to him in the spider-things, Case charged forth and pushed past the ashen Dirk and weeping Meepo, who had burrowed his face into the leg of Dirk's jeans.

Swinging his hammer in wide devastating arcs, the robot laid into the monstrous vermin. The creatures tried to surge past the Lud-Man to feed upon the living prey beyond, but Case Nine's assault smashed and killed before they could advance. Splattered in gore, Case turned to Dirk, who had recovered somewhat, saying, "More webs ahead. I will take point."  Shaking the clinging kobold off his leg, Dirk readjusted his leather jacket and pulled out his pistol. Moving behind the robot, he peered into the gloom from which the mutant spiders had emerged, "Appreciate it, Case." Blanching as he passed the rent corpses, Dirk muttered, "God-_damned_ spiders."

*   *   *​
The three of them moved down what must have been a series of stables in days long past. Now each of the booths was the domain of the spiders and was thick with webs and the remains of past meals. Desiccated corpses of great rats and small humanoids hung in grotesque cocoons in many of the webs and bones littered the floor. Case Nine pulled down the webbing with his hammer and in some of the debris they found ancient coins and other baubles.

The hall of stables eventually terminated in a large room strewn with ragged strands of webbing. In the flat light of the sunrod, the group could make out two large pits in the floor, each with trapdoors lodged open with iron spikes, and a single doorway that was half-shrouded with sheets of filthy cobwebs. Against the far wall, another fountain adorned with dragons stood, the shattered bones of past prey littering its dry basin. Dirk instantly recognized what had transpired in the room, "Looks like someone beat us here. They spiked the traps." Case Nine cautiously advanced into the room, his scanners sweeping the area for signs of danger. Dirk crept in as well, knelling beside one of the disabled traps to inspect the work.

As Dirk got up from his crouch, his knees popping loudly in the quiet, he groaned as he caught sight of movement from the room partially concealed by webbing. Two more of the monstrous spiders skittered forth; one heading for Case, the other lurching toward Dirk. However, what emerged next nearly sent Dirk screaming from the ruins. A truly huge spider, its abdomen swollen with cancerous growths, struggled to squeeze through the door and enter the chamber. Meepo wheeled back, pointing at the horse-sized spider, and managed to squeal out "Guthash" before darting away.3

Dirk raised his pistol, his hands trembling and took several shots at the advancing spider-thing, but in his blind panic missed each time. The creature dove at the rogue, driving its fangs deep into Drik's arm. Dirk screamed as his arm seemed to catch flame, the poison streaming through his blood, and dropped his gun. With a mighty act of will, he managed to tear the creature off and send it crashing to the ground. Experience and instinct overcoming thought and terror, he pulled out his short sword and skewered the spider-thing as it tried to right itself.

After mashing the head of the monster with his boot to make sure it was dead, Dirk flipped his blade and looked up to see his reflection eight times in the glittering eyes of Guthash. Scrambling back in dread, Dirk weaved and wove, avoiding the darting strikes of Guthash, whose fangs were the size of a human hand. As he dove back, he suddenly hit something hard and unyielding. Realizing in horror that he had backed himself into a corner, the rogue held out his blade and watched as the great spider rose up to deliver his doom.

Meanwhile, Case Nine slaughtered the mutant spider charging him, crushing the monster flat with a single vicious overhead blow with his greathammer. However, even this brief encounter cost the robot time, as Guthash strode past him and went straight for Dirk. Case's friend was not thinking clearly and appeared to be unaware of the great monster approaching him. The Lud-Man was too slow to intercept, but as Dirk was pressed into the corner by Guthash, the robot surged forward. Swinging his hammer in a wide arc, he slammed into the massive spider-thing, sending foul smelling ichor splattering in all directions.

Wheeling around, Guthash lashed out at the source of its pain. While the poison was of no concern to the warforged, the fangs of the monstrosity were strong and it rent and tore the armor of the Lud-Man. Distracted by the assault of Case Nine, Guthash momentarily ignored Dirk and thus sealed its fate. Fighting though the horror, the rogue slid to one side and using both hands drove his short sword hilt-deep into the thorax of the monster. Squealing in pain, Guthash listed to the side and staggered about before finally falling to the ground, its many legs jerking wildly for quite sometime after its death.

*   *   *​
Dirk rummaged through his pack until he found what he wanted: Bertik's Patented No. 34 Antitoxin Elixir.4 Hastily unscrewing the cap, he gulped down the noxious tasting liquid. Minutes crawled by as he waited to see if the poison of the spiders would have any effect. When he felt no worse, he knew the alchemic had worked. Meanwhile, Case Nine applied some enchanted unguents and oils to his battered armor plating, the magic mending the damage he had sustained. The danger abated, Meepo sheepishly crept back into the room from his hiding place in the hall.

Once ready, Case Nine entered the lair of Guthash, his hammer held high. Inside was a stinking nest of web, debris, and bones. As the robot looked around, he caught sight of a human-sized body strung in the webs. Putting away his hammer and taking out a knife, he cut the corpse down and brought it out into the room, as Dirk would have no part in entering Guthash's nest. The body, although mummified, appeared somewhat fresh and dressed in studded leather armor, a well-worn pack, and good boots. Meepo stared for a moment then jumped up in excitement, "I know this Above-Worlder! He was with the one you are looking for." Dirk nodded and quietly searched the body, finding the pack full of various supplies and a gold ring upon his finger. On the inside of the ring was engraved a single word: Karakas.

Case Nine, who had left Dirk to his work and returned to Guthash's lair, continued to pick through the nest. Eventually he found a Dragon rifle, which based on the ammunition they found in Karakas' pack had probably belonged to him, as well as a number of other trinkets. Giving the rifle to Dirk, the duo took what they could use and left the rest behind.

*   *   *​
Nerves still on edge, the group backtracked to where Case Nine had slaughtered the first of the spider-things. Here, Meepo noted another path that he assured Dirk and Case would lead them into the goblin territories. Forgoing the stone door that Case had started to break down, the group followed the path pointed out by Meepo. Passing through several empty chambers, they eventually came to an ancient wooden door with a rusty knob.

Kneeling before it, Dirk carefully inspected the door for signs of subterfuge. As he examined the door, he noted that a key hole had only been partially filled in, allowing a glimpse of what was beyond. A flickering light could be dimly made out at the end of a long hall. Of far more interest, the rogue could see a string on the other side of the door that draped past the keyhole. Figuring this was an alarm bell, Dirk made preparations and began his work.

Using a set of long metal implements, Dirk carefully picked the mechanism that held the door fast. Next, he asked Case Nine and Meepo to stand back and handed off the sunrod to Meepo, who then wrapped it in a rag to dampen the light. Controlling his breathing and steadying his hand, he carefully opened the door slightly, noting that he was correct and a banged up cowbell had been rigged to the door. Quietly disabling this alarm, he then slipped into the room, giving himself a moment to adjust to the darkness.

Looking ahead, he could see a long hallway and what appeared to be a barricade almost at the end. This makeshift barrier was silhouetted by dim, flickering firelight. Listening carefully, Dirk could make out what sounded like slurred Goblin and drunken laughter from behind the barricade. Crouching, he padded his way forward, noting that the floor was covered with a carpet of caltrops and he picked each step with care.

However, about halfway up the hall, he overlooked a caltrop and it shout out from the edge of his boot, pinging and bouncing down the hall. The laughter suddenly stopped and small heads shot up over the top of the barricade, cries of alarm rose as the goblin lookouts spotted Dirk. Cursing, the rogue drew his blade, but before he could act, he was pushed aside by Case Nine, who came roaring up the hall. The caltrops crushed beneath his thick tread, the robot burst through the barrier and sent the goblin sentinels scattering in all directions.

There were four goblins in total and one immediately fled in terror through a doorway. The others stood their ground, attacking the robot with crude maces. Case Nine swung his heavy hammer, smashing the goblins and sending them flying. As swiftly as it began, the battle was over, and Dirk closed the door the one goblin had fled through. The duo quickly looted the defeated goblins, but found only a few coins, and Dirk also scooped up what few of the caltrops remained serviceable after the Lud-Man's charge.

Weapons at the ready, Case Nine kicked open the door the goblin had fled through and the group charged down a twisting pathway into a huge room. This room, as the hallway before, had been separated by a low barricade of debris. Behind this wall stood at least nine goblins and this time the humanoids were ready for attack. They let loose a hail of javelins and Dirk was hit badly. Even Case Nine, whose thick armor turned most blows, was damaged in the merciless barrage. Dirk managed to fire a few shots, but the goblins used the cover of the barricade to their benefit and none were harmed. Case attempted to burst through the wall in hopes of getting into melee range, but was repulsed by another barrage of javelins. 

Bleeding and sparking, Dirk and Case Nine fled the battle, chased by javelins and taunts. Meepo was not far behind.


*Notes:*

1 Belkers are a popular brand of cigarettes in Asheril. Widely known for their slogan "A New Dimension of Flavor" and their ubiquitous advertising mascot, Belky the Belker.
2 The area around Old Lud is filled with strange energies that can mutate living creatures. At times, it has been known to affect even inanimate objects or non-living creatures, giving them odd new qualities. These energies have not yet been successfully quantified by modern technologies or sorceries, making them difficult to detect and extremely dangerous. Advanced Arcanics, a research consortium with divisions in both Asheril and New Lud, is thought to be close to creating a device that will detect this energy, but working prototypes have not yet been publicly demonstrated.
3 A goblin word. Translated into Pell-Mell it roughly means "Bloated One".
4 Another fine product from Bertik & Company Alchemics and Chemicals.


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## Pell-Mell (Apr 1, 2007)

I wanted to take a moment to thank those who had provided the kind words above. I truly appreciate the comments and I hope you will continue to enjoy the storyhour.

While I am not familiar with Alfred Bester, I am huge fan of Jack Vance, specifically the "Dying Earth" stories. Although his works inevitably color all my campaigns to some degree, I really wanted to emphasize that this world is a fantastically ancient one and has seen untold numbers of civilizations rise and fall. I am glad this influence is evident and I hope it will become increasing so as the story unfolds.

Lastly, I am happy the footnotes seem to be working out.


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## reciprocalzero (Apr 1, 2007)

I'm not usually willing to de-lurk, but this is easily the best thread title I've ever seen. And well-written, too. Nice work.


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## Destil (Apr 1, 2007)

I have to throw my hat into the corner and agree with all of the above. Awesome title, excellent writing and a very evocative world you've got here.

Meta-game questions, though:
What level were your 2 PCs when they started Sunless? Was this the first adventure you ran, or did you play out their meeting in the city? I'm guessing Human Rogue 2 and Warforged Fighter 2 at this point?


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## Pell-Mell (Apr 3, 2007)

Both characters began at second level: Dirk as a Human Rogue 2 and Case Nine as a Warforged Fighter 2.

The Sunless Citadel was the first adventure for the group and a lot of the back-story was worked out during the first few games. The players came up with the idea of a private eye agency on their own, including the title of the series: "The Case Files of Chance and Nine".


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## Pell-Mell (Apr 22, 2007)

*CASE FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN*
_Session 3: Chasing the Dragon_

The robot slammed the trunk shut, the red glow of the setting sun turning his armor to flame. Looking to the darkening sky, the Lud-Man could see the scarred face of Big Moon1 shimmering on the horizon, its little sisters nowhere to be seen. The first of the great constellations burned brightly in the approaching twilight. The Eye-Tyrant, its eleven baleful star-eyes glimmering with malice, watched as Case Nine gathered the mismatched boxes he had removed from the trunk. Giving one more glance to his surroundings, the warforged made his way back to the deep ravine.

Working down the treacherous path, Case Nine reentered the kobold territories of the ruins. He found Dirk, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, in the room they had first encountered Meepo in, the rogue binding his wounds with white gauze. The ground in front of him was littered with spent bottles and flattened tubes of various tinctures and ointments, all of which bore the logo of Bertik and Company. He looked up, "We got banged up pretty bad, huh?" The robot nodded, "Anyway, I got them to give you a room off to the side. I am no engineer, but I figure you got quite a bit of work ahead of you." He thumbed behind him, "In the back, to your left."

Shouldering his gear, Case Nine entered the sparse room, spreading out the boxes and opening them. Each was filled with strange tools and spare parts stripped from other warforged or scavenged from the ruins of Old Lud. Self-repair and diagnostic routines cycled up and the robot began his work, repairing the damage he had sustained in the battle with the spiders and goblins.

*   *   *​
They left the kobold territories two days later, retracing their steps through the citadel. Once more they came to the room with the stone door that Case Nine had begun to smash down. Dirk nodded to the door, "Case, want to have a second go around with the door? I figure all the spiders are dead and goblins didn't hear the ruckus last time." The robot nodded and drew out his greathammer as Dirk activated a sunrod and tossed it down the hallway. The rogue then drew his gun and both he and Meepo peered out, keeping watch.

After three massive blows, the door gave way, blowing inward and sending stone fragments skittering in all directions. As the dust settled, the Lud-Man stood ready as Dirk and Meepo joined him at the shattered frame. From within the room, a dim light could be seen and Dirk waved his free hand to clear the air. Five massive sarcophaguses stood upright against the walls of a small room, each of their lids graven with the images of humans garbed in flowing robes, their features idealized and regal. On the far side of the room was a small altar of black stone and atop this were three dust-covered items: A vial, a small glass whistle, and a candle that flickered dimly.

It was candle that caught Dirk's attention, "We may have just hit the jackpot! Cover me."2 His gun in one hand and a sunrod in the other, the rogue crept into the silent chamber, his eyes everywhere, seeking traps left to guard the dead and their treasure. Seeing none, he continued until he reached the basalt altar. Using the hand that held the sunrod, he ran it above the flame of the candle, feeling no heat and the flame of the candle did not sway as it passed. Magic. He turned to the others, "We got a winner ... ". His voice faded off as the entire group heard a loud click.

The lids of the five sarcophagi shuttered and fell forward, cracking on the stone floor of the citadel. From each, a skeletal form came lurching out, bony claws held outstretched and grasping. Dirk backed into a corner and dropped his sunrod, his pistol held in both hands as his gun thundered in the small room. Case Nine swept into the room, his massive greathammer smashing the bones of the undead with great efficiency. Even Meepo, who had previously run from battle, stabbed at one of the skeletons with his spear. As Dirk was reloading his pistol, he happened to look over at Meepo as a skeleton raked the kobold, the bony claws repelled by a mysterious field of crimson energy that flared into sight as contact was made. 

Bones shattered by hammer or bullet, the last of skeletons was quickly defeated by the group. Dirk glanced at Meepo, who said nothing and suddenly found one of sarcophaguses deeply interesting, and shrugged. He would have to ask the kobold some questions later, but for now he had more important tasks to accomplish. Blowing the dust off the items of the altar, he quickly rifled through them. The vial had a thick liquid in it and was marked with a rune of fire in the tongue of dragons. The whistle was shaped in the form of a dragon and was cold to the touch. The candle flickered dimly and the rogue carefully packed this away once he determined that it was not truly burning. After searching the room and finding a few other minor treasures, the group continued on.

*   *   *​
Continuing through the hallways, they made their way back to the first of the goblin outposts, Dirk and Case Nine discussing their plan of attack in whispers. Once they arrived at the door, Dirk quickly disabled the lock and peered through the keyhole. Although his vision was limited, the rogue could see that the goblins had rebuilt their barricade at the end of the hallway and their outpost appeared to be manned, as the hallway was dimly lit by a flickering fire.

Dirk relayed the information to Case Nine and took out his pistol. Readying himself, he nodded at the robot. Case Nine kicked in the door and charged down the hallway, the alarm bell hung on the door clanking once before slammed into the wall. The Lud-Man burst through the barricade, startling a trio of goblin sentries, who had been lounging by a small cook fire. The greathammer swung, bringing death with each blow, and by the time Dirk and Meepo had run up the hall, the goblins were slaughtered, the robot splattered in gore.

Dirk yelled to Case Nine, "Go, go, go!" and the robot responded, running down the hallway into the great room that they had been forced out of before. Behind another barrier of junk, the goblins were just rising to their feet, their eyes wide with fear and alarm. Charging forward once more, the warforged burst through the barricade, five goblins screaming in terror. They swarmed at the Lud-Man with crude maces, denting his armor and causing some damage, but the robot stood and his hammer swung. Goblins died, their broken bodies flung in all directions, as Case Nine went about his work.

Suddenly a door behind the goblin sentinels flung open, four more goblins pouring out, javelins at the ready. One of these crumpled to the ground as Dirk, who had run up to the barrier, took a shot with his pistol. He ducked as the goblins returned fire, javelins rattling off the barricade. He quickly reloaded his gun, taking another shot and sent another goblin to the ground. Meepo, who had joined the rogue at the barrier, launched his small spear, skewering a goblin through the chest. The last of the goblins turned and bolted through the door he entered, letting out a high-pitched screech.

Giving no quarter, the warforged chased the goblin down a short hallway with two doors. He kicked in the first of these doors, finding a small chamber whose floor was scattered with filthy sleeping mats and was lit with a cooking fire that was down to smoldering embers. From the shadows, a javelin shot out and shattered on the thick armor of the Lud-Man. Stalking across the room, Case Nine grabbed the goblin that cowered in the corner and held him aloft by the neck of the goblin's filthy armor. The robot called back, "I have a prisoner, Dirk."

From the hallway, Dirk and Meepo came into the room, the kobold shutting the door behind him. Dirk moved across the room, bring his pistol to the squirming goblin's forehead, "I don't have time for games. You understand Pell-Mell?" The goblin went very still and started to babble its native tongue. Dirk looked back to Meepo, "You speak Goblin right?" The kobold nodded and he turned back to the goblin, "Good. First question: Where is the dragon?" The goblin whined and howled and Dirk pressed the barrel of the gun into his temple, the goblin breaking and screaming something. Meepo translated, "He says it is down the hallway at the next door." "Second question: Anything guarding it?" The kobold translated and the goblin answered, "He says it is locked up alone."

Dirk nodded and jammed the gun into the waist of his jeans, fishing a long rope of out his pack, and trussed the goblin and shoved a rag into his mouth. He looked back at Meepo, "Tell him to keep still and maybe he will get out of this alive." The kobold did, but the goblins' eyes were still wide with panic.

*   *   *​
The captured goblin slung over his shoulder, Case Nine made his way down the corridor with Dirk in lead. Dirk crept forward, triggering a pit-trap in front of the door, but the agile rogue leapt back before the floor gave away completely. Glaring at the goblin, Dirk quickly disabled the trap and then checked the door, finding no more sabotage. The door was locked, but he quickly picked the lock with a set of long metal implements. He looked back, taking out his gun, "Ready?" Case Nine and Meepo nodded, "Okay. Here we go." He pushed the door open, rusty hinges protesting loudly.

The room beyond was large and judging from its shape, must have been some form of chapel or theater. In the chemical light of the sunrod, the group could see a thick layer of broken furniture and other debris lay scattered all about the parameter of the room. The center of the room was clear but had a suspicious sheen and a definite chill hung in the room. On the walls hung ill-made, gruesome trophies: heads of men, kobolds, and animals. 

Case Nine entered the room first, sensors sweeping the debris for signs of the dragon. As he entered the center of the room, he suddenly fell and sent the bound goblin flying. Ambulation and balance subsystems activated, calculations of unfathomable complexity firing, as the robot attempted to right himself upon the icy floor. From within the piles of trash came a tittering laugh and in a flash of white, the dragon was aloft. The dragon was no bigger than a house cat and flew about the room, taunting the warforged, who continued to struggle to stand. Dirk entered the room and grabbed a leg of a broken table and doused it with a bit of lamp oil from his pack. He flicked his lighter out and it flared to life, lightening the makeshift torch. Without taking his sight from the dragon, he said, "Meepo, close the door."

Calcryx did a whirl about as he heard the rogue, its eyes narrowing with hatred as it saw the kobold, its former keeper. Fluttering down, the dragon hissed and opened its mouth, releasing a shimmering spray of deathly cold. Dirk ducked and rolled under the attack, sliding on the ice to come up behind the dragon. He brought up the flaming club and struck, Calcryx screaming in pain.

The dragon clawed and bit at Dirk, but the rogue was far too fast, countering each attack with one of his own, his smoldering club striking again and again. The dragon grew enraged and breathed another gout of freezing air, this time catching the rogue. Calcryx gave a haughty laugh at Dirk's misfortune and in its arrogance failed to notice that the subroutines of Case Nine had corrected for the presence of ice and the robot was on his feet again. Dirk smirked and nodded at the Lud-Man, "Looks like the cavalry is here." The dragon hissed and turned to see what the rogue was talking about. Taking advantage of the dragon's distraction, Dirk flipped the club, driving the butt into the small monster's skull and it fell limp to the ground. The rogue looked at the warforged and shrugged, "Oldest trick in the book. Didn't think he would go for it. Now let's out of here before we attract any more attention."

Case Nine nodded and grabbed the dragon, which was alive but unconscious, and the group ran from the room back to the kobold territories, leaving the bound goblin sniveling in a corner. 


*Notes:*

1 Big Moon is scarred from the actives of an elder culture of man, one that left this world and explored the void between planets and stars. Their fate is unknown, but it is widely known they strip-mined the moon extensively and the scars are their work. Modern astronomers note that they or some other creatures are still active on Big Moon, as new, smaller scars occasionally appear on the moon's surface.
2 The _continual flame_ spell is not available in this campaign. These magics were known by races of antiquity and at times examples of the still active spell are unearthed, but they are rare, expensive, and prone to spontaneous dispelling. The reason for why this spell is unavailable in modern times is unclear, but there are persistent urban legends that a company (which one varies by storyteller) released a spell-virus when electricity was once more rediscovered and harnessed. The spell-virus slowly corrupted all versions of the spell and is thought to still be active, devouring even ancient spells. Whatever the true reason, modern spellcasters have been unable to reinvent or reverse engineer the spell.


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## Pell-Mell (May 13, 2007)

*CASE FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN*
_Session 4: A Girl Named Mere_

Dirk threw the unconscious ice dragon into the cage as Case Nine bent the mangled bars back into place. The rogue rubbed his hands on his jeans, "Well that's that. Let's take a breather and see if the gobo's come at us."1 They spent the next two days resting and repairing, vigilant for a retaliatory strike against the kobolds, but none came. Deciding that it was time to continue their trek, Case Nine, Dirk, and Meepo once more entered the goblin territories.

They moved quietly and slowly through the twisting hallways of the ruin, but found no sign of the goblins. The barricades they had once held lay broken and the fire pits were cold. Continuing forward, they worked their way back into the large room where they had captured Calcryx. Here there was a door that Meepo thought would lead deeper into the goblin area. Weapons at the ready, Case Nine gave the door a mighty kick, but it refused to budge, seemingly barred from the other side. It took the robot four tries before the door finally gave way, shattering inward. Beyond the door was a long hallway, ancient dragon-carved columns holding a high, vaulted ceiling. The hall was lit with flickering torches and the air was hazy with smoke.

Goblins, clearly awaiting the noisy invaders, jumped from behind columns and launched a barrage of javelins at the robot. From down the hallway, more goblins came running and screaming, javelins shaking in their small fists. Taking out crude maces, the nearby goblins surged the robot, pounding at his armor and overwhelming him. He responded in kind, his greathammer killing with every savage arc. Meanwhile, the halls reverberated with the thunder of Dirk's pistol, goblins falling in mid-charge.

As the goblins overran Case Nine to menace Dirk and Meepo, who had wisely set up behind the warforged, another shout was heard. Goblins as big as a human, dressed in studded leather and wielding long swords, appeared at the end of the hall and charged toward the Lud-Man. Case Nine shouted a warning, "Hobgoblins incoming." Dirk cursed as he dodged a goblin's mace.

The hobgoblins came in, blades flashing in the torchlight, brutally striking at Case Nine. His thick armor dented, he began to give off smoke as systems failed and smoldered. But even as he was beaten, his hammer swung relentlessly, and one by one the hobgoblins fell before the warforged. Behind him, Dirk had dropped his gun and had his short sword out, stabbing and darting, fending off the attacks of the goblins. Meepo skewered with his spear, managing to take out a goblin, but he was sent sprawling as another clubbed him with a mace.

A few moments later, the battle was over, as Case Nine killed the last of the goblins. Seeing no further reinforcements, Dirk and Meepo quickly looted the corpses of the goblins, taking bloodstained coins and several long swords, as Case Nine kept watch. When they finished they ran off and headed toward the kobold's hold, as they were too hurt and damaged to continue.

*   *   *​
"Hello? Hello? Are you out there? We need help!" 

They were halfway back when they heard the cry. The voice was female and both Case and Dirk recognized the accent: New Lud. After a moment, they found that it was coming from behind a door they had ignored before. Dirk kneeled and had a look, determining that there was no sign of sabotage and he picked the lock with ease. 

Gun in one hand, sunrod in the other, Dirk kicked the door open, the foul stench of unwashed bodies and excrement hitting him like a fist. The harsh chemical light of the sunrod revealed a terrible scene. Chained against the walls were five kobolds, all living skeletons, too weak to even lift their heads. Against the far wall was a great cage, a pale woman blinking in the light. Her voice cracked as she called out, "I am Mere Bertik. My family can make it worth your while to get me out of here."

Dirk surveyed the room, his eyes lingering on the Bertik & Company logo stamped on the shaft of his sunrod. Jackpot. "Case, see if you can get those kobolds down. Meepo, give them some water. I'll see if I can get the lock on the cage." The robot obliged, snapping the rusting chains off the wall and lying the feather-light bodies to the ground, while Meepo carefully gave each of the prisoners a sip of water from a dented canteen.

Dirk walked over to the cage and flicked his gun toward the back of the cage. "Take a step back, I need some space." The girl did, holding up ghost white hands to show they were empty. He holstered his gun and took his lock picks out his jacket. Glancing up at her, he took in the woman. She was dressed in dirty jeans and a poncho several sizes too large. But her face was everything Dirk needed to know. Sharp nose, dark eyes and hair, pale skin.2 She was New Lud all the way.

Looking up from his work to the woman, Dirk nodded at the cage, "How'd you end up in here? Far way from New Lud." She looked at him, "I was part of exploratory crew for the family business. I came seeking a certain mystical apple with healing properties." She shook one of the iron bars that held her, "But we were ambushed and I was taken prisoner by the goblins. I managed to convince them that I was a witch and my people would be willing to barter for my safety." She looked at the robot as he worked, "Who are you? Are you adventurers or treasure hunters?"

A loud click could be heard as Dirk finished with the lock and swung the door open, "Nope. Private investigation outfit out of Asheril. Name is Dirk Chance. The robot is my partner, Case Nine. The kobold is Meepo." He tucked his picks back into this jacket, "You really a witch?" She stepped out of the cage, "No. I am acolyte of Boccob the All-Knowing, but his name is not known to the goblins. My magics were enough to dupe them and also provide sustenance during my imprisonment." Looking at the others, than back to Dirk, "If you are investigators, who are you a looking for?"

Dirk took out the creased photograph of Braford and handed it to her, "Warrior Priest of the Cult of the Seven Lords of Light. His name is Isaiah Braford. Got lost out a holy pilgrimage and this ruin is his last known location." Mere shook the photograph, "I have seen him! He and his companions were held here a while a go by the goblins. They were taken away and I never saw them again." Dirk took back the picture, "Let's get the kobolds and get them back to their people. Then we go top side and have ourselves a talk." He turned toward Meepo, "You want to come along?" The scrawny little kobold nodded his head furiously.

*   *   *​
They returned to the surface after dropping off the kobold prisoners, only to find the Orion '23 missing. Case Nine found it in a ditch near where it had been parked, a new dent in the front fender and the ignition crudely hotwired. They spent the better part of two hours getting it out and undoing the damage of the would-be thieves. The sun was well past its zenith when they finally rolled into Oakhurst.

In town, they resupplied the necessities with some of the loot from the ruins: bullets, canned foods, hard-rations, alchemics, smokes, a few watered down healing potions, and a new pair of jeans and boots for Mere. Chance had been hoping to spend the night in town, but he found that the townsfolk responded poorly to Meepo, who had done no more than peer out from the back of the Orion in wonderment at these strange new surroundings. So they roared out of town, raising a roostertail of dust in their wake, and made camp in a barren place between town and the ruins.

The moons were beginning to rise as Case Nine built a great fire, for the wastes grew cold when the sun set. Dirk cooked a few tins of food over the fire, as Mere and Meepo stared into the dancing flames. After dinner, Dirk lit a Belker and offered one to Mere, who took it gratefully. Sitting around the campfire, Dirk looked around, "All right then. It is time we talk." He nodded at Mere, "Why don't you fill us in a little more about what happened to you with the gobos."

The New Lud girl took a drag off her cigarette and exhaled, the smoke drifting into the clear night sky. "As I said, I was part of an expedition to retrieve a strange apple with curative properties. My family's business is in alchemics and we have an interest in various tonics and cure-alls. We had received a sample of the apple and tracked down its source to the ruins we just came from. I volunteered to lead the expedition, as I needed to get out of the city for a while." Her eyes grew distant as she said this and she paused for a moment. 

"But we didn't get very far. We got ambushed by goblins just when we entered the ruins. I guess Meepo's people must have come in later, because there were no kobolds there when I arrived. Anyway, I don't know what became of the rest of the crew, as we were separated. I managed to convince the goblin leader that I was a witch and I was worth more alive than dead. I don't know how long I have been down there, but it has been a while." She paused and took a swig of water from a chipped glass Case Nine had dug out of the trunk of the car.

"I wasn't always alone though. Mostly it was kobold prisoners, but sometimes it was other people as well. Like this Braford you are looking for. The goblins got him and his two friends not so long ago. He said he was on a divine quest to slay an outcast Seeker3 named Belak, who from what I have gathered from the goblins and kobolds, lairs beneath the citadel. Isaiah said he was also to cut down a wicked tree that grew in the dark beneath the ruins and was tended by Belak."

Case Nine made a strange, unidentifiable sound, "I was not informed that Seekers would be involved in this mission." Dirk smirked, "Had a run in with an overly zealous bunch of them in Asheril. He has not been the same since." Mere nodded, "Anyway, Braford was in pretty bad shape when I talked to him, as were his companions, Sharwyn and Talgen. They had tangled with a great spider and lost one of their party. They were forced to retreat and the goblins got them when they were weak. They didn't stay long in the prison and the goblins took them away, saying that Belak wanted them. I never saw them again."

Dirk and Case Nine exchanged a look. They were going to need help with this job. Dirk spoke, "You know we can't take you back to Asheril right away. We have to finish this job." Mere nodded, "Yes, I know." She paused for a moment, "If you will have me, I would like to join your expedition. I too want to finish my job. This wicked tree Braford spoke of must be what produced the magic apple I seek." She paused, flicked the butt of the spent cigarette into the fire, and then looked up, "Besides, you three look like you could use a healer. While this is not a primary focus of Boccob the All-Knowing, he still maintains an interest in the area. In addition, I know of incantations that will repair a warforged much more quickly than the use of spells designed for flesh and bone creatures." Dirk and Case Nine exchanged a glance and it was Dirk who nodded at the woman, "Welcome aboard."

Stars and moons wheeling above in the vast dark sky, the group huddled around the fire and talked of many things long into the night.


*Notes:*

1 Gobo is a common slang term for Goblins in Asheril.
2 Much of the look for Mere came from the artwork for the Healer class in the Miniature's Handbook. 
3 The Seekers are a large, loosely organized, quasi-religious group that eschews many technologies and sorceries, instead striving to live in harmony with the environment. They live outside the cities in their own communes and are generally a peaceful group. There is great heterogeneity within the Seekers, with some groups living an extremely primitive existence, while others accept metalworking and other more advanced concepts. Their holy men and women tap into the primal forces of the earth and are the druids of the campaign setting. In Asheril, which they sometimes visit for trade purposes, they are mostly known for their dark, somber clothing and excellent farm products and handicrafts.


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## Destil (May 14, 2007)

NPC Cleric? Or Cleric/Wizard? Or did you pick up a 3rd player? And what's with Mepo's ... kobold armor. Yeah... 'kobold' armor.

Excellent update, sorry I had missed the last one.


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## Nifft (May 14, 2007)

Just a side-note: the classic "He's ... / She's ... / They fight crime!" works because the different pronouns cue identity -- the two subjects are initially disambiguated, so the concluding plural makes sense.

You oughtn't do "He / He / They" because it is ambiguous. However, one of them is a robot -- you could do a "He / It / They" and that would be a novel twist on the classic.

Cheers, -- N


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## jezter6 (May 14, 2007)

Needless to say, this Story Hour is straight BRILLIANT. I always love robot sidekicks (unless Dirk is the sidekick, which would be great). 

I don't have eberron, but if this is any clue as to what eberron is...there goes another $40 down the drain.


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## Dr Simon (May 14, 2007)

jezter6 said:
			
		

> I don't have eberron, but if this is any clue as to what eberron is...there goes another $40 down the drain.




The only Eberron thing in this is the warforged. The rest seems to be Pell-Mell's homebrew campaign which, in my opinion, is way better than Eberron.  It's sort of how Eberron could have been (with their 'pulp-noir magic-tech' concept) but it felt to me like somebody at Wizards chickened out of going that extra mile to mix modernism and fantasy.


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## Pell-Mell (May 15, 2007)

First, thanks for all the comments and interest! 

About Mere: For those not familiar with the Sunless Citadel module, there is a gnome fighter 1/cleric 1 named Erky Timbers who is prisoner of the goblins. Gnomes are not native to the setting, so Mere Bertiks, who is human, was created to replace him. She is a NPC and has been pretty much acting as the healer for the group since they found her. 

There will be more on Meepo in the next write-up.


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## Arkhandus (May 15, 2007)

Entertaining stuff!


Re: Meepo: I figure he's probably a 1st-level sorcerer, or even 1st-level psion perhaps?  Though I'm not sure if he has the intelligence or charisma for either.


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## Americano (May 15, 2007)

I always love reading new story hours with Meepo in them. Good stuff, keep it up.

(I also love your Tilly avatar)


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## Pell-Mell (May 26, 2007)

*CASE FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN*
_Session 5, Part 1: System Failure_

She woke with a start, rolling to the side and instinctively reaching for a weapon that was not there. The fight was already well underway and it was still dark, Big Moon and its little sister, Aerdrie, bathing everything in pale silvery light.1 The invaders were small, no bigger than a goblin, and made of what looked like loose bundles of sticks. The monsters rattled and scrapped their way forward, twig-claws held forward and grasping.

Case Nine crushed one as another futilely scrapped its claws against his armor. Soon the second joined the first, as the robot brought his heavy hammer down again. Dirk roughly hacked at another with his short sword and then kicked it into the campfire. The fire flared, illuminating the camp in a stark flash of light. There was one more and Mere sprung to her feet desperately searched for a weapon, but Meepo was already on the move. Leveling his spear, he charged the little monster. The spear plunged through the twig thing, but lacking any sort of guts, it did little harm. The creature raked the kobold with gnarled claws, drawing blood and yips of pain from Meepo. Mere found a short piece of wood next to the fire and kicked it up into her hand, ran forward and struck the monster. It flew apart, broken branches pattering softly on the sands of the waste.

The girl dropped her club and tended to Meepo, who mewed and rolled in pain. "What the hell were they? And why didn't you wake me?" Case Nine was silent as he strode past her, his sensors sweeping the desolate wastes for any more of the creatures. Seeing none, the Lud-Man answered, "We were waiting for them in ambush. I sensed them lurking about, but they did not apparently spot me." He knelt down beside Meepo, who had stilled as Mere mended the kobold's wounds. "Apologies Meepo, I do not sense the fourth one." He then turned to Mere, "In addition, you are not armed."

Mere made a face and was about to say something, when the trunk of the Orion slammed shut and Dirk called out, "And it is time we fix that." Walking across the campsite, he held out a rifle, "You know how to use this?" The New Lud girl glared at Dirk as she took the rifle, expertly slid the breach back and then slammed it closed, "Haagenti Munitions Dragon Rifle ..." She squinted in the dim light, "Sorry, this is a knock-off. They never get the logo quite right."2 Dirk held up his hands, "Sorry, just asking. We also got a couple rounds of ammo, a chain shirt and a long sword. All courtesy of Braford's dead friend." The priestess nodded and took the items, "It will do." She then pointed at the remains of the little monsters, "Now, what about those things?"

Case Nine gathered the remains, putting them near the fire, which Meepo had pushed several pieces of wood onto. In the flickering light, the group took a look, but there was not much to see. Mere glanced up at the others, "If I had not seen them, I don't think I would have believed these had moved on their own." Dirk rubbed his scruffy chin as he dug a cigarette out of his pocket. Lighting up, he got to his feet, "Seems like maybe those magic apples that everyone seems so keen on might do more than just cure what ails you. It's too convenient that these tree things are wondering about out here." Case Nine stood as well, "Agreed. However, we will have to wait until the morning before we move out. I will keep watch." Dirk patted the robot's shoulder and returned to his sleeping bag. Meepo and Mere hunkered down near the fire, swaddled in worn, patched blankets.

*   *   *​
The sun rose red and bloated on the horizon, outlining the distant mountains that lay dreaming to the west, beyond the Vast Waste. Long shadows stretched out as the group awoke and went about their morning rituals. When Mere finished her adorations, they piled into the car and drove to the ruins. Making their way down into the citadel, the group entered the kobold territories, Dirk stopping and making a hand gesture to the others. Cocking his head to one side, he listened. Distantly, he could hear cries and screams.

They entered the room that held the ice dragon. The cage was empty, its battered door open wide and a rusting padlock lying on the floor. Dirk gestured for Meepo to call out a greeting. No response. Weapons came out and they moved further into the home of the kobolds. Now, they could all could hear what Dirk had heard: screams and cries of pain. Exchanging glances, they moved quickly though the deserted halls, following the clamor. The cries grew louder and echoed weirdly in the ruin, and they soon found its cause.

In a great chamber outside of the kobold territories, the kobolds were butchering the goblin tribe. The floor of the vast chamber shone crimson as goblins, old and young alike, were run down by kobold warriors. From a side chamber, a great cry came, and then there was a hissing sound and a plume of ice crystals shot out of the room. The cries fell silent. In the center of the slaughter was Yusdrayl, Queen of the Kobolds, resplendent in war paint and gear. Spying the group, she called out, "The way you seek is through that door." She pointed across the room with a claw splattered with gore. "Beyond it, the Goblin King bars your way to the caverns below." She turned to fling scarlet darts of energy at a goblin that was running at her, dropping him. Her eyes blazing with eldritch light, she shouted, "Go! The way is open!"

The robot was already in motion, the others following close behind him, trying not to look at the carnage. Case Nine began to batter down the door with his greathammer, knowing that it would surely be barred from the other side. The door proved more resilient than anticipated and it took the Lud Man several tries before it finally gave. The robot was greeted by a barrage of javelins, most shattering on his armor, but several striking true.

Case Nine on point, the group poured into the room. In the center of the large octagon-shaped chamber was a yawning pit. Strange knotted vines, thick as arms and pale as ghosts, choked the hole and sprawled into the room. Across the pit, standing in front of a large stone throne, was a massive hobgoblin, a long sword held out and pointing at the invaders. Around the Goblin King was his retinue: a robed goblin who danced about, holding a symbol of its blasphemous god high; three hobgoblins with blades and shields out; and four goblins with javelins. In addition, another of the strange twig-things lingered behind the throne.

The Goblin King gave a mighty shout and the goblins swarmed forward. The robed goblin held its symbol out and drew on the powers of its dark god. Black energies played around the symbol and for a moment, the group felt a sensation of doom and hopelessness come crashing down on them. However, the incantation was weak and all fought off its effects. The hobgoblins came running forward, meeting Case Nine head on; blades striking and sparking, hammer swinging and crushing. The goblins hung back, tossing their javelins as Dirk and Mere returned fire, their guns thundering in the enclosed space.

Striding forward, the Goblin King called out to the hobgoblins, and they disengaged the robot. His sword held high, the king charged into the warforged and the two exchanged blows. The robed goblin and twig-creature scrambled up behind the Goblin King, the goblin cleric mending the king's wounds and cursing Case Nine. However, the foul magics of the goblin where not quick enough, for the robot, sparking and smoking, swung into the Goblin King and crushed him with one final blow. Using the momentum of the strike, the Lud Man carried through, smashing into the robed goblin and sending it crashing into a wall, where it crumpled to the floor.

Dirk, Mere, and Meepo fought a desperate battle behind the robot. The hobgoblins who broke off from Case Nine charged them, one falling under a hail of bullets. The goblins, emboldened at the sight of the hobgoblins entering melee, drew maces and came screaming in. Pressed back, guns were dropped and blades drawn as Dirk and Mere stabbed and hacked at the goblins. Meepo darted underfoot, his spear jabbing out and catching a goblin in the side. The goblin assault was relentless and Mere was the first to fall, Dirk second. Cornered and suddenly alone, Meepo frantically thrust his spear and stuck out wildly, fear and panic consuming him. The enemy loomed over the hysterical kobold, grinning at the impending kill. Then the smiles faded, for Meepo had gone still, and bloodlust turned to confusion.

Meepo's eyes shown with a deep crimson light and for a moment, he seemed large and terrifying, a thing out of nightmares. His blood caught fire, ancient power streaming down unseen lines of linage and blood, the might of Ashardalon, Destroyer of Worlds, filling the kobold. The light grew brighter, painful to look at, then Meepo roared with a voice that was not his own. Crimson beams stabbed out of his eyes, lancing the skull of a nearby goblin. The goblin fell back, his mouth still agape. As the corpse hit the floor, the trance was broken and a goblin clubbed the kobold down.

Case Nine, ignoring the twig monster, ran forward and slammed into the remaining goblins, which were turning to face him. His hammer swung, taking lives, but he was heavily damaged and the goblins were fast. They struck at him and at first he staggered, warnings flashing across his consciousness ... 

*
* SYSTEM FAILURE IMMINENT *
* GESTALT MATRIX ENTERING D-4 LEVEL PROTECT MODE *
* GRAVOETHERIC CELL ENTERING MINIMAL GAIN MODE * 
* SYSTEM FAILURE IMMINENT *
​*
The Lud Man struggled to right himself, but he fell to one knee. The hobgoblins, sensing victory, rained down blows on the robot, and broken he crashed to the ground ...

*
* SYSTEM FAILURE * SYSTEM FAILURE * SYSTEM FAILU--
​*
*   *   *​
Dirk woke with a grimace, his eyes blinking open, but he could see only darkness. Somewhere, someone was weeping. Although he could see nothing, he got the sense he was in an enclosed space, as the air was stale and thick with the stench of sweat, blood, and ozone. He rolled over, croaking, "Case, you there?" The crying stopped and something came close, "No, it is Meepo. Case Nine is broken!" Dirk spat, tasting blood, "All right, is Mere here?" The kobold responded, his voice rising as he began to edge toward hysteria, "Yes, but I can't wake her!" Meepo then drew close and whispered, his voice high with panic, "You can't tell HER I used magic! She will kill me! KILL ME!"

He shoved the kobold away and got to his feet, instinctively checking for his gear. Much to his surprise, everything was there. He fished out a sunrod and cracked it, the chemicals reacting and light flaring. He found he was in a small room with a single door out. The ruins of Case Nine were slumped in a corner and Mere laid to one side, covered in a ragged blanket. He peered down at Meepo, "Get it together, Meepo. Do you know where we are or how we got here?" The kobold fought back tears as he answered, "I'm not sure, but I think we are in my people's prison, but I just woke here a little bit ago too." The rogue nodded and kneeled beside an ashen Mere, holding his hand above her mouth. Still breathing.

He rifled through his pockets and eventually found he was looking for: A flat, scratched vial with a worn away label. Saying to no one in particular, "Hope this works", he popped the lid with a filthy thumbnail and ran the mouth of the vial under the cleric's nose. She gasped and came up swinging. Dirk held her down by the shoulders, "Be quiet and lay still." The cleric choked and made a sour face, "What did you give me?" He shrugged, "Smelling salts. Your family's brand if I remember right. I've had it for years and wasn't sure if it would still work." Mere glared at Dirk for a moment, but her face grew pale as she saw Case Nine, "Is he still ... alive?"

Dirk shrugged, trying not to look at the broken shell, "I don't know. I've seen him worse and he has been able to be reactivated. Old Lud knew had to build things. Can you use a repair spell on him?" The priestess nodded and got to her feet unsteadily. She kneeled down and put her hand on the ruined warforged, calling out to the All-Knowing. There was a slight whirl and Case Nine jerked to life, systems cycling up, and Mere stumbled back. Servomotors whined as the Lud Man stood up, "I am within tolerable limits of functioning. Thank you, Mere." The cleric nodded and turned to the others, "Well, we are all alive. I guess that is something." 

Suddenly, there was the sound of something heavy being lifted from beyond the sole door of the prison. Reaching for weapons, the group prepared to fight once more.


*Notes:*

1 One of several small moons collectively known as the Little Sisters. Aerdrie is almost perpetually covered by clouds and mists. When the cloud cover does break, great expanses of green and blue can be seen. 
2 Haagenti Munitions is a smaller holding of Haagenti Industries, a conglomerate with interests in weapons, alchemics, medicine, and several other obscure scientific and magical areas. Their corporate logo is a brass bull head with stylized feathered wings.


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## Silver Moon (May 27, 2007)

Hammerhead said:
			
		

> Fun. By the way, *great* title.



Agreed, best Story Hour title I've seen in a long time.   Good approach to the narrative too and a fun story.


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## Pell-Mell (Jun 24, 2007)

*CASE FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN*
_Session 5, Part 2: Rogue on Fire OR The Worm Burns_

Guns out and trained on the door, the battered and weary group readied themselves for battle. 

There was a booming thud on the other side as something heavy fell to the ground. The door opened slowly, many tiny claws suddenly appearing and grabbing the edge. In the widening crack, the group could make out the reptilian form of kobolds and they lowered their weapons. A large kobold with a bloodstained bandage covering one eye appeared and gestured at the group with his spear, saying something in Draconic.

Dirk stuck his pistol into his belt, "Come on. The queen wants us." They were led out into the hallway filled with draconic columns and back into the Yusdrayl's chamber. The Queen of the Kobolds sat upon her throne and looked down, her eyes glittering with arrogance and her mouth set in a fanged smirk. She made a broad, mock-welcome gesture, "The Children of Ashardalon have purified this part of His House of the goblin scum." She moved her glare from one of the group to the next, her stare finally settling on Meepo, who cowered behind the massive Case Nine, her eyes narrowing as arrogance gave way to malice. Meepo gave a moan and clung to the robot's leg.

"As you have assisted our holy cause, we saved you from the goblins when you fell before them." She extended her claw and pointed at Meepo, her voice trembling with restrained rage, "We have even spared lowly Meepo, who has used sacred magics, even though he is not worthy of them!" Yusdrayl sank back into her throne, "But our benevolence is limited. I have been blessed with a vision from holy Ashardalon. He has told me to allow you pass through into the lower chambers." Her voice quivered with anger, "And I am stay my hand and allow Meepo to live. However, he is forever exiled from this House of Ashardalon!"

Dirk thought for a moment, "Sounds fair. But we are going to need a day or so before we go down to lower level." The Queen of the Kobolds nodded, "Agreed. But know that my patience with you is at an end. Once you exit from the halls below, I will allow you to pass though our territories only once."

*   *   *​
Two days later, the group now whole and healthy, returned to the octagonal room that had once been the lair of the Goblin King. The room had been swept clean by the conquering kobolds and only brown stains marked the site of the pitched battle. They made their way to the pit in the center of the chamber and looked down. The shaft was choked with thick, pale vine-things. Below, the shaft appeared to open into a large chamber bathed in an alien violet light.

Case Nine was the first to make his way down, the vines straining under the weight of the robot. Clambering down, the Lud-Man found that the shaft opened into a vast natural cavern, the walls studded with odd fungal growths that shed a weird purple light. In two of the walls were large rents that lead into darkness and against another was a door. The floor of the cavern had been covered in soil and a strange garden of sorts had been cultivated. Unhealthy and wilted plants were laid out in neat lines and four creatures tended to them: Two humanoid skeletons and two of the twig-things. Spotting the descending robot, they ran over to intercept him as he approached the floor.

Risk algorithms and previous experience determined a minimum level of threat from these assailants and the robot made no attempt to strike from a distance. Instead, he lowered himself to the ground, the claws of the skeletons and twig monsters useless against his thick armor, and methodically dispatched them with his greathammer. By the time the others had reached the floor of the cavern, the four creatures had been destroyed and no harm had been done to Case Nine.

As the group began to get their bearings, a mighty roar suddenly came from one of the cave entrances and a massive bugbear could be seen. A helm adorned with great twisting horns sat upon the head of the bugbear and in his hands was a morningstar graven with stylized dragons.1 At the bugbear's feet were two snarling dire rats and with a gesture, he set them upon the group. Meepo screeched, "It is Baslag, the Great Hunter!"

The robot was already moving, his greathammer swinging back as he charged into his foes. The rats scattered, scrambling out of the way of the Lud-Man and seeking the more palatable targets behind. Baslag met Case Nine head-on and the Great Hunter swung under the robot's guard, the morningstar crushing his side and the warforged staggered back. The Lud-Man recovered, sending the bugbear sprawling with a massive blow with his hammer. Spitting blood, Baslag came up and the two traded blows. But in the end, metal proved stronger than flesh and Case Nine was victorious.

Behind the warforged, the two rats scrambled toward Dirk, Mere, and Meepo. Dirk calmly leveled his pistol at one of the monstrosities and shot. The creature stumbled and crumpled to the ground, one leg spasming uselessly. Mere shot the other dire rat with her rifle and though wounded, it continued forward. Meepo stabbed it with his spear, finishing it off.

The battle over, Mere mended some of the damage on Case Nine as Dirk and Meepo investigated the cavern Baslag had emerged from. Within they found the lair of the Great Hunter and they quickly rifled though his meager belongings, finding some coin and baubles among the nests of the dire rats. Meanwhile, Mere determined that Baslag's morningstar was enchanted and the bugbear had a curious potion. Drawing upon her knowledge of alchemy and magics, the priestess postulated that the potion would protect the imbiber from fire for a short time. Case Nine took both.

Regrouping in the central chamber, Dirk took off the horned helm off Baslag and placed it upon his head, "Not bad, eh?" Mere rolled her eyes and Case Nine ignored the question, "Which way now?" A bit crestfallen, Dirk tossed the helm to the ground, "Let's take the door. I'll have a listen." Pulling out his short sword, the rogue made his way to the door, and after he determined it was not trapped or locked, listened intently.

*   *   *​
Dirk held up his hand and gave a signal for silence, a confused look on his face. He then made his way over to the others, "I hear something, but I can't figure out what it is. Sounds like somebody stomping around in water. The door isn't locked, so I am going to sneak in and see what we got. Get ready if you hear something." The others nodded and the rogue padded over to the door, listening first, then opening it slowly and peering in.

The hallway beyond was short, with high vaulted ceilings and columns carved with dragons, similar to the halls above. More of the bioluminescent fungus clung to the ceiling and pillars, bathing the hall in the queer light. Six open doorways, three on each side, could be seen and a large stone door stood at the far end. The hall itself was choked with worktables and haphazardly strewn farming implements. 

Seeing no one, but hearing the strange sloshing sound, Dirk crept in, his short sword out and ready. Stealthily moving forward, he peeked around one of the open doors and found the source of the odd sound. Two goblins were stomping in a mashing-tun, occasionally stopping to catch their breath. Dirk quickly surveyed the other equipment in the room and determined they were making liquor. Leaving them to their work, the rogue made his way to the doorway across the hall. In here he found several bunk beds and after letting his eyes adjust to the gloom, discovered that two of the bunks were occupied by sleeping goblins. Moving silently and quickly, Dirk smothered these two and then continued down the hall. In the next set of rooms, he spied two goblins repairing armor in one and two more goblins examining a sickly looking dire rat that had been strapped to a table in the other. The last two rooms in the hall appeared devoid of goblins and looked to be for storage, although the rear of one had collapsed, leaving a rent that led to a dark, irregular passage.

Dirk made his way back to the others undetected by the goblins and told them of what he had seen and done. After some discussion, they decided they would surprise the goblins and barge into the chamber, hoping to slay them before they could organize. Putting word into deed, Case Nine kicked in the door and made his way in, surprised goblins darting from side chambers. Moving quickly and methodically, the group easily defeated the goblins and soon were alone in the hallway. They examined the rooms, but found little of interest. The rat that been lashed to the table appeared to have been an experimented on and Mere suggested that the poor creature would soon expire. Case Nine quietly put the creature out of its misery.

Moving forward, Dirk listened at the stone door at the end of the hall, hearing nothing. Finding no lock, he opened it slowly. Through the crack, Dirk could see another vast chamber, this one constructed rather than natural. In the violet fungi light, he could see great fading frescos of dragons holding dominion over the antediluvian world. The floor of this vast chamber had also been converted into gardens of stunted surface world flora. As the rogue surveyed, a large creature lumbered into his line of sight, evidently heading for a stone door across the chamber.

It was another bugbear, but this one wore the clothing of a farmer and held a scythe over his broad shoulders. Dirk held his breath, but it was clear that he had not been spotted. Suddenly, the bugbear stopped, held up its face, and began to turn this way and that, its broad nose quivering as it caught an unfamiliar scent. The rogue closed the door slightly and retreated, scampering back to the others, telling them what he had seen. Taking up positions behind workbenches, they leveled their guns at the door and waited. A moment later, the bugbear, his scythe at the ready, kicked open the door and glared about. The guns thundered and the bugbear was shot down, his body hitting the floor before he could even enter the chamber.

Waiting a moment to see if reinforcements would appear, but seeing none, the group moved forward and entered the vast garden chamber. Several thick stone doors were evident and the group picked one. Dirk checked it for traps or locks, but found neither and heard nothing on the other side. Waving the rogue back, Case Nine opened the door and revealed a large octagonal room. Like the other rooms, its floor was covered in a dark soil, but here strange underworld plants flourished: great pale mushrooms, quivering fungus stalks, and the ubiquitous glowing growths. However, it seemed that something had burned a part of the garden, for many of the plants bore mysterious scorch marks.

Seeing nothing untoward, the group ventured into the room and looked around. On one side of the chamber, Dirk made a discovery: several peculiar holes in the wall, including one that seemed to be glowing with a warm yellow-orange light. Going to one knee to investigate, he gave a scream as something sprung from the hole. The creature was worm-like and about two feet long. It blazed with flames, the air around it wavering in the heat. The fire creature darted toward the surprised rogue and hit him square in the chest. Immediately the rogue caught on fire and dropped to the ground, writhing in agony. Mere shook off her surprise and shot the fire worm with her rifle, but it was Case Nine who killed it with an overhead slam with his hammer.

Grabbing the smoldering rogue, who had passed out from the pain, Case Nine and the others retreated to the hall of the goblins.


*Notes:*

1 A nice illustration by Claudio Pozas is available here


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## ragboy (Jun 25, 2007)

Great concept and characters. Subscribed.


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## Pell-Mell (Jul 4, 2007)

*CASE FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN*
_Session 6, Part 1: ELECTRIC SOUL FUNK_

Dirk came around screaming, finding himself on a long workbench, the harsh light of a sunrod glaring in his eyes. Mere stood next to him and channeled healing energies into the scorched rogue. The smell of burning flesh hung heavy in the air as the cleric of Boccob repaired the damage with spell after spell. Case Nine laid out items Mere requested from his pack: unguents, tinctures, gauze, and a roll of grimy duct tape. Meepo watched all with wide eyes. 

Her magic spent, she switched to conventional methods, cleaning the remaining wounds with disinfectants, whose stinging touch caused Dirk to groan in pain. She then applied soothing ointments and wrapped the burns. Mere took a step back, running her forearm across her sweaty brow, "Well, that's what I can do for now." She nodded at Dirk, "He should live, but I have no more spells. I don't think he should move anymore today." Dirk leaned back on the workbench and lay down, giving a weary thumbs up. "You're the boss."

Case Nine secured the goblin's chamber as best he could, barracking the doors and throwing a table over the back of one room with a rent that led into darkness. The hour crawled by in the changeless underground, but they made the best of the situation, sorting through the goblins' possessions for useful items and taking turns resting.

*   *   *​
Sometime later, Dirk awoke and rolled himself off the workbench with some effort. He felt better, but he was still hurting. Case Nine awoke Mere, who examined the burns and changed Dirk's bandages, wadding the spent dressings and tossing them into a side chamber. She looked at the others, "Let me meditate and I will see what I can do for Dirk." The others nodded, having a breakfast of trail rations and tepid water as they awaited the cleric. When she was done, she applied another healing spell upon the rogue, who declared himself fit. Gathering their gear and what supplies they had salvaged from the goblin hall, they moved out to further explore the ruins. They made their way to the stone door that led deeper into the complex, Dirk listening at it but reporting nothing untoward.

The rogue opened the stone door, stopping dead in his tracks as he revealed an ambush. Outside the door, behind overturned tables, crouched two bugbear farmers with their scythes at the ready. They gave a guttural cry and pushed forward their foot soldiers: a handful of skeletons and goblins armed with shovels and clubs. The horde scrambled forward, clawing and swinging, but the fleet-footed rogue dove back into the hall. Case Nine took Dirk's place, looming above the goblins and skeletons. His greathammer already in hand, the robot commenced to slaughter all before him, relentlessly moving forward, crushing the broken and dying.

Dirk and Mere took shots when they could, but soon all that stood were the two bugbears, who engaged the Lud-Man in melee. Throwing all his weight into one his attacks, one of the bugbears was able to damage the robot with his scythe, but Case Nine did not hesitate. Within seconds the two bugbears fell as well, either crushed by Case Nine or shot down by the others.

The battle over, Mere mended the damage to Case Nine as Dirk and Meepo looted the bodies of the fallen, finding little of value.

*   *   *​
The group found the vast chamber where they fought the goblins and skeletons was mirrored by another, this one converted to a subterranean garden as well. Several octagonal side rooms were also found in both chambers, each devoted to various ecosystems from above and below the surface. All were bereft of fireworm infestations. However, one of these side doors led to a hallway that snaked further into the complex. At a bend, a strange crimson light could be seen, but it source was not obvious. Case Nine took out his greathammer and started down the hall, the others behind him.

The hall led into a great room that was lit with a hellish red light that seemed to bleed from the air itself. Against the far wall was a tremendous statue of a rearing dragon, its eyes smoldering as it gazed out across the room. At its taloned feet, a half circle of ancient runes had been carved into the stone floor. In the side wall, another hall led into darkness.

Meepo gave a startled cry as he entered the chamber, bowing his head and giving a word of prayer to the King of All Dragons. Dirk started toward the statue, curious to what treasures it might guard, but Case Nine blocked his way with one metal arm. "I will investigate this. You have had ill luck with such ventures." Dirk started to argue, but as he began to dive under the arm, a fresh burst of pain from the last of his burns shot up his trunk and he stopped. "I hear you. Go ahead. Make sure you check in the back."

Case Nine nodded and strode forth, his greathammer ready and his sensors sweeping the area for signs of sabotage or enemies. Finding neither, he moved over the circle of glyphs and stopped, his senses noting anomalous fluctuations in the electromagnetic spectrum and ambient temperature. The robot was ready when a thing of shadowy darkness emerged from the base of the statue. His hammer swung, but it passed through the apparition with no effect. The gossamer creature floated before the Lud-Man and all could see that it was the shape and size of a man, although its form was wavering and few distinct features could be seen. It hesitated, its eye-voids seeming to survey the warforged. Then it plunged a claw made of shadow-stuff into the chest of the robot, passing through the thick armor with ease.

Mere shouted, "Its a shadow! Case Nine, use the enchanted mace! Meepo, use your eye beams!" She moved forward, one hand gripping the All-Seeing Eye of Boccob that hung around her neck, while the other began to glow with a pale white light. The cleric shoved her shimmering hand into the inky darkness of the spirit, releasing a burst of positive energy. The creature gave an unearthly screech and shuddered, tendrils of shadow recoiling from the white energy. Meanwhile, Meepo summoned the power of Ashardalon and a crimson beam lanced from his eyes, boring a hole in the apparition. 

Although Mere had discounted Dirk, the son of Asheril was not unprepared for battle with restless spirits. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small bottle, its wrapper adorned with poorly mimeographed holy symbols and grim cherubs. He unscrewed the cap and chucked it at the apparition. Its contents sprayed in all directions, but most splattered on the shadow, causing it to wail in agony as the holy water burnt ragged holes.

Case Nine drew his enchanted mace and swung at the shadow, but the weapon sailed harmlessly though the apparition, his attack slow and clumsy. Although he had suffered no external damage, the gestalt matrix that was the synthetic soul of Case Nine struggled to maintain coherence, as the touch of the shadow drained his vital energies. The shadow stuck again, the thick armor of the robot no defense against this assailant and he suffered further spiritual degradation. Systems began to shut down as all power was shifted to maintaining his soul and the warforged crashed to the floor, unable to support his own immense weight.

Mere called on Boccob the All-Knowing again, channeling positive energy and striking at the core of the dark thing and Meepo blasted with his eyebeams, venting the fury of Ashardalon. Even with the vitality it had stolen from Case Nine, the shadow was soon destroyed under the relentless assault, dissipating into the natural shadows of the room and leaving only a lingering chill. The danger gone, the group knelt beside Case Nine, but found that while he appeared to be functioning, he seemed unable to move.

Unsure of how to proceed, they found a wheel barrow in one of the garden rooms and it took both Dirk and Mere to roll the disabled robot into it. Once more they retreated to the hall of the goblins.


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## Pell-Mell (Jul 16, 2007)

*CASE FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN*
_Session 6, Part 2: Feed The Tree_

"I think he is going to be okay." 

Mere glanced back down at an open panel in the back of Case Nine, a tiny glowing screen filed with arcane glyphs and graphs, reporting the intricate workings of the robot. "I am no expert on Lud-Men, but my sister has done some work in archaeoautomatronics.1 I think his power cell has been depleted, but it looks like it is cycling back up." Dirk looked over, "How long till we know one way or the other?" The New Lud girl shrugged, "No idea." Dirk rubbed his stubbled chin and took a deep drag on his cigarette. "All right. Well, we can't leave him and he is too heavy to pull up that shaft that got us down here. I guess we just have to wait and see if he fixes himself." In response, the panel closed, dull clicks heard as unseen locks slid into place. Dirk smirked and raised his eyebrows, "Well, it looks like someone is still home."

As they waited to see signs of progress with Case Nine, the others made good use of the downtime. Mere set up a makeshift work area in the hall of the goblins, scavenging enough equipment to allow her to create some potions. With Meepo in tow, Mere and the kobold gathered herbs and other raw ingredients in the adjoining subterranean gardens. Dirk took this time to venture down some of the side passages previously noted, but in the group's haste had not been explored. Creeping silently down dark halls and caverns, he found several empty rooms. In one of these chambers, he noted several holes in the wall, including one that shimmered with a fiery light. Remembering his previous run-in with a fire worm, he beat a hasty retreat.

They spent what seemed to be several days in the underground, Case Nine gradually increasing in strength and vitality. Soon he reported that he was at optimal operations and the group moved out, anxious to be done with the ruins. They made their way back to the room where there the shadow had lurked and moved down a passage they had seen earlier. Delving further into the complex, the group found more twisting halls and a room that appeared to have been a library of sorts. Stopping only to pilfer a few choice scrolls and books from among the damp-swollen mess, they continued on.

At the end of a long hall, two doors were found. The group picked the first one and Dirk examined it, detecting no traps but finding it was securely locked. Fishing his picks from the inner pocket of his jacket, he went to one knee and set to work. The rogue made quick work of the lock and soon the door was open, revealing what appeared to be a workroom. A chair, several rough wooden tables covered with stained papers and books, and a mostly empty bookcase were the only furnishing in the sparse room. Another door in the wall to right could also be seen. Dirk and Meepo set to tossing the place, finding several mystical scrolls and a book bearing an enchantment, as well as other mundane books and records. Dirk opened the enchanted tome and it suddenly burst into flame, a magical trap triggering. The rogue quickly dropped the burning book and threw his arms in front of his face, his leather jacket scorched but leaving him unharmed.

Finding little else of value, Dirk went to the other door in the room, checking for locks or subterfuge. Finding only a lock, the son of Asheril quickly picked it and pushed the door open. Looking out into the next chamber, his eyes went wide and he muttered "Huh".

*   *   *​
The cavern beyond the door was truly vast, the expanse bathed in violet fungal light. The floor of the cavern had been transformed into a grove of spindly briars, saplings, and other sickly looking plants. In the distance, barely visible in the half-light, a massive leafless tree loomed. Its branches seemed to sway slightly, although there was no breeze evident in the underground. At the edge of the grove near the group, four goblins were working, but they stopped as they saw the human at the door. The goblins gave a shout and swarmed toward the doorway.

Case Nine, hearing the goblins, pushed Dirk aside and met them head-on. Charging out of the room, he slaughtered the goblins with ease, sending broken bodies flying in all directions. The others filtered into the cavern as a second wave of defenders approached. Pulling themselves from the ground or shuffling in from deeper in the grove, more of the twig monsters came forth with stick claws held out and grasping. The group fought with hammer, blade, and spear; no guns for fear of alerting others in the massive cavern. Hacking and smashing, they made short work of the little monsters and suffered few wounds in the course of the battle.

When no more creatures appeared, Dirk took a pair of binoculars from the pack of Case Nine and glassed the cavern ahead. "Looks like we got about a hundred or so feet of these half-dead trees, then that big one at the end." Dirk paused, "Weird. I think there is a huge frog in the big dead tree. Anyway, I can't see the base of the big tree. There is some kind of wall around it." Dirk replaced the binoculars in the robot's pack. "Let's stick close to the walls and see if we can't sneak up and see what we got." They moved forward, weapons at the ready, but found that approaching quietly was not going to be an option. The grove grew so dense that only the smallest creatures, such as Meepo, could navigate it successfully. Using Mere's long sword, Case Nine began to hack his way through the undergrowth. Far ahead, the frog in the tree gave a warbling cry as it spotted the approaching interlopers.

They came to the low ruined wall that surrounded the dead tree, passing through a massive rent in the ancient structure. Across a meadow of patchy, stunted grass stood the great black tree, soaring high into the cavern. No breeze stirred the quiet air, the branches high above twitching slightly on their own. Beneath the quivering braches of the tree stood three souls. The one in the back was clearly a Seeker, as he was dressed in their traditional garb: black clothing and a wide brimmed hat. He was a slender man, his skin pale and his hair as dark as his clothing. In front of him were two humans, one clad in baroque armor and holding a long sword that sparked with eldritch energies and the other was a thin woman dressed in a faded denim dress. Mere shouted, "Its Braford and Sharwyn!"

The Seeker spoke, "Welcome friends! I see you are already acquainted with my two supplicants! I am Belak of the Twilight Grove and I welcome you to my home." He nodded at each, but ignored Case Nine, "Your machine man is not welcome here, as is the way of my people." The lost paladin and woman stood silently, neither giving greeting or acknowledging their presence in anyway. Dirk took a step forward, "Names Dirk Chance. We have been hired by his cult" He gestured at Isaiah Braford, "to find him and bring him home to Asheril. I don't know what this place is about, but I want no more trouble. How about you just hand him over." 

The Seeker shook his head, "I am afraid that will not be possible. Sir Braford has found a new faith." Belak gestured toward the black tree that stood behind him, "Behold the glorious Gulthias Tree, which sprung from a still green wooden stake used to destroy a vampire named Gulthias in the olden days.2 The stake took root here, becoming something completely new in the process." His eyes glittered, "Is it not amazing how nature finds a way to grow even in such strange conditions?" Belak did not wait for an answer, "Now it bares miraculous fruits; some that cure and others more poisonous than anything I know. Its seedlings walk about own their own, spreading its glory across the face of the world." He paused, "But such miracles require a sacrifice. Both Braford and Sharwyn have given themselves over to the Gulthias Tree, allowing it to draw strength from them and give them a new existance." And now that they looked closer, they could see the eyes of the paladin and woman had no spark of life and their skin had a peculiar gray cast to it. "Join the tree and it will provide you with rewards beyond measure."

Moving with blinding speed, Dirk leveled his pistol at the Seeker, "Yeah, I don't think we will be doing that. Case grab ..." Belak roared as the robot approached, "Vile abomination!" He made a gesture with his hand and suddenly the grass beneath the feet of the group sprung up, growing and becoming thick vines that bound them. "If you will not be reasonable, I will have to show you the way by more forceful means. Isaiah, strike down the machine man!" Case Nine pulled the grasping vines from the ground and struggled forward and met the charging paladin head-on.

The paladin came in, his eldritch blade spitting sparks and struck at the Lud-Man. Distracted by the enspelled vines, Case Nine was unable to deflect the blow and the sword struck true, discharging a massive bolt of electricity into the robot. Overwhelmed by the unexpected shock, Case Nine staggered back, multiple systems failing and wisps of smoke evident as polymers burned. The Seeker laughed, "I will finish this affront to nature!" He pointed at the beleaguered warforged and immediately the sensors of Case Nine reported anomalous temperature readings. The others need no such sensors to see what was happening: the metal armor of Case Nine had begun to smolder and turn red, waves of heat emanating from the robot.

Meepo struggled with the entangling vines, but seeing Case Nine in dire need of assistance, channeled the power of Ashardalon. Drawing on his experience with the ice dragon Calcryx, he opens his fanged maw and a beam of cold lanced out, striking the Lud-Man. Immediately, the hot metal began to cool and steam. Case Nine used this time to stagger back and draw forth the potion they had found on Baslag the Great Hunter. Pouring it on him, the magic took hold and he was warded against damage from fire. His sensors returned erroneous temperature readings and his armor began to glow an intense red, but he suffered no further damage from the spell.

Meanwhile, Dirk dove out of the grasping plants and rolled onto clean ground, taking a shot at the Seeker. The shot went wide, but it drew the attention of Belak. The Seeker held out his hand and spoke a word of magic. A ball of fire suddenly sprung up in front of Dirk, but the son of Asheril was quick and rolled out of the way of the small fireball. Belak cursed and called out to the woman in the denim dress to strike and she responded by throwing a bolt of magic at Mere, who was still struggling in the mass of vines.

Case Nine hammered at the paladin, striking while deflecting the sparking blade of the warrior with the heft of his greathammer. Mere and Meepo managed to struggle free of the vines and Mere moved in behind the warforged, calling on the All-Knowing Boccob and repairing the damaged Lud-Man. Meepo blasted Belak with crimson beams and Dirk dove about the field, ducking the ball of fire which rolled about after him, taking shots when he could.

The paladin was the first to fall, crushed by Case Nine. The woman mage was next, gunned down by Dirk. The Seeker, seeing his warriors defeated, summoned monsters from the outside world, first a mighty hippogriff than a dire rat. The giant frog the group had seen earlier, and who had spent the battle so far lurking in the Gulthias Tree, sprung down in defense of its master. The summoned beasts were hastily defeated by the group and it was Meepo, with several savage thrusts of his spear, who killed the giant toad. 

His minions defeated and his spells spent, Belak drew a dagger from his belt and made his stand at the foot of the Gulthias Tree. Case Nine charged the Seeker, shattering bone with a massive bow of his great hammer as Dirk dove to the side of the Seeker and drove his short sword deep into the man's chest. The dying Seeker fell back on his beloved Gulthias Tree and sunk to the ground, leaving a trail of bright blood on the trunk. The blood disappeared quickly as the vile tree hungrily absorbed it.

*   *   *​
It was Mere who asked for the Gulthias Tree to be hacked down, wanting nothing to do with the evil thing. Case Nine did the work, the tree oozing thick, black ichors as he cut it down. After looting the bodies of Belak and Sharwyn, they put the corpses atop the ruined Gulthias Tree and set the whole thing ablaze. They watched silently as the vile tree burned fitfully and when all was ash, they left the grand chamber and headed back to the goblin halls. 

They spent several days in the underground, recuperating from the fierce battle. The group thoroughly looted the place, searching every nook and cranny, determined to leave nothing of value for Yusdrayl and the kobold tribe above. Meepo, with the help of Mere, spent this time turning the hide of the great frog he defeated into a hooded cloak. 

Once recovered and ready to leave the ruins, they took the corpse of Isaiah Braford and headed for the upper level of the citadel. As Dirk was about to climb up, he saw the discarded horned helm of Baslag the Great Hunter and on a whim picked it up. He looped it to the pack of Case Nine and the group ascended, several kobolds waiting for them at the top. A runner was sent for Yusdrayl and Dirk told her of what had transpired below. The Kobold Queen nodded and then dismissed them, glaring with hatred at Meepo. After picking up some of the tools that Case Nine used to repair himself from the kobold territories, the group left the ruins. Once on the surface, they were relieved to see the Orion was still where Dirk had parked it and the group hastily packed up.

Their long-sought quarry stuffed in the trunk of the Orion '23, the group set off for Asheril, Dirk flooring it as soon as they hit the highway.


*Notes:*

1 A new Knowledge skill has been created for the campaign. Knowledge (Technologica) covers current, obsolete, and ancient technology and some constructs (such as robots). Mere has several ranks in it.
2 Vampirism is not native to the campaign world, but rather bought from another dimension ages ago by a godling known as Kanchelsis. Almost all vampires on the Continent can trace their curse to Kanchelsis, who has long since left this world for new ones. Views of vampirism vary widely with location. In the Protectorate and New Lud, Kanchelsis' curse is treated as an incurable disease and sufferers viewed as parasites only fit to be destroyed. In the city of Asheril, vampires, as well as number of other post-mortal creatures such as liches, are explicitly exempt from the No-TraSH Act of '17 and treated as other sentient beings.


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## Pell-Mell (Jul 16, 2007)

*CASE FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN*
_Illustration: On The Road_







The gang on the road back to Asheril. Dirk Chance at the wheel, Case Nine in shotgun, and Meepo hanging out the back. Mere not pictured, but presumed to be sitting behind Dirk but blocked from view by Case Nine. Drawn by Dirk's player.


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## Pell-Mell (Jul 22, 2007)

*A Note from the DM*

A couple of things I wanted to mention. First, as always, I appreciate the comments. Thanks for the interest!

To help create a more dynamic game, beginning with Session 7, we started to use the Swashbuckling Cards by Scratch Factory. We use all of the cards, except for "The Only Way To Be Sure". These have really added to the game and I will try to point out notable uses of them in the storyhour.

In addition, we are using the Hot Pursuit: The Definitive d20 Guide to Chases (also by Scratch Factory) to cover car chases. The write-up below represents our first play with these rules and it went pretty well.

Lastly, at this point in the narrative, the characters are: Case Nine, Fighter 4; Dirk Chance, Rogue 4. NPCs are: Meepo, Sorcerer 3; Mere Bertik, Cleric 2/Fighter 1.


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## Pell-Mell (Jul 22, 2007)

*CASE FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN*
_Session 7, Part 1: Blood on the Asphalt!_

Dirk leaned back in the driver's seat, his face to the sky and blew smoke into the thick summer air. In the gathering twilight, the neon of the Paragon Fuel1 sign sputtered to life high above and the first of the stars shimmered into view. His eyes slid to the side, finding his quarry: three townie girls loitering outside the fueling station, their skin pale under buzzing florescent lights. He locked eyes with the best looking of the bunch and nodded, the girl smiling and waving her friends to her side. They crowded in, giggling and casting furtive glances at the rogue in the convertible, and planned the next step in the endless dance. Events set in motion, Dirk took another drag on his cigarette, his thoughts wandering for a moment.

Life was good. It had been two days since they had left the ruins of the citadel and they had not run into any trouble on the road. The holy man they had been hired to find was in the trunk. As a bonus, whatever curse the Gulthias Tree had bestowed upon the paladin had rendered him more plant than human, his corpse giving little stink despite being several days old. Now sitting in the parking lot of a fueling station a day or so outside of Asheril, he was about to get his first hot meal in a long time, courtesy of the roadside grill that that had been grafted onto the side of the station. Looking back at the girls, Dirk decided that there was really no rush to get back to Asheril. Originally, he had wanted to return as quickly as possible, but now he was thinking they could at least spend the night in the crossroads town. The corpse in the trunk was certainly not going anywhere.

Dirk turned as the tinkle of bells announced the opening of the door to the diner. Case Nine, Mere, and Meepo made their way across the cracked and stained expanse of concrete, past the gleaming pumps, to the Orion '23. The priestess of Boccob tossed Dirk a hamburger wrapped in butcher paper and Meepo scampered up with a cold beer, its brown bottle devoid of any label. Mere gave the rogue a sour look, "I still don't see why we can't sit in the diner and eat like civilized people, rather than in the car like savages." Dirk smiled and took the beer, which he opened with a doodad on his key chain, "You know, I was just thinking the same thing." The rogue gave the kobold's head a friendly rub and took a swig of beer, "I was also thinking we could spend the night here, maybe find a motel or something. It is not like we are on the clock ..."

The rogue was interrupted by the rumble of engines. From around the corner came a Centaurus '10 and four motorcycles.2 The Centaurus was painted a flat murderous black, its hood emblazed with an elongated white skull with a long, lightening bolt split in the jaw bone. Both the truck and cycles were driven by gnolls and the bed of the Centaurus held two more that shouted war cries and shook rifles and axes. They roared into the station and pulled up to the fuel pumps, the diner suddenly dark and the girls already gone. Over the exhaust fumes was the almost palpable stench of unwashed fur and devilweed smoke.3 The gnolls cut their engines and jumped from the truck and cycles, some jamming nozzles from the pumps into their vehicles and other starting toward the diner, barking in Pell-Mell, "Food! Food! or Kill and Burn!"

Dirk muttered, "God-damn it. CrackJaws!"4 He watched the gnoll gang in the rearview mirror and said in a low voice, "Get in the car slowly. They look wound up, but if they were going to burn this place, they would have done it already. Don't look at them." The others did so, but as the rogue watched, the scene in the mirror changed. One of the gnolls lifted his head into the air, then another followed, and then several more.5 Their noses quivered and they began to bark excitedly in their tongue, but one word was in Pell-Mell: "Bertik". At the mention of her name, the priestess reflexively turned toward the gnolls. One caught sight of the movement and pointed a claw at the Orion. Dirk cursed and shouted, "Hold on!" He floored it and the car flew out into the street, sparks flying as the rear bumper slammed into the curb.6

*   *   *​
Dirk glanced up from the highway and into the rearview mirror, the headlights of the CrackJaws growing closer. "I am pretty sure I can outrun the truck. The cycles I don't know about." They were barreling down the road, the top of the Orion down and the air screaming around them. Beyond the road was the great plains, endless seas of grass whipping by. Case Nine and Mere had their rifles out and Meepo stared back at the glaring headlights, a killing spell at the ready. Dirk himself already had his pistol in one hand, the other clamped in a death grip on the steering wheel.

With a roar, two of the cycles cut forward. Case Nine was ready and took a shot, but not at the rider. Aiming for a vulnerable part of the engine, he severed a belt and the motorcycle went wobbling off the road, throwing the driver into the high grass.7 The other rider came roaring up on the driver's side, an axe in one hand. Screaming a war cry, he brought up his weapon to strike Mere, who was behind the driver's seat. Still driving, Dirk leaned back and brought his pistol around, jamming it into the mouth of the gnoll. The rogue shouted, "Not today furball!" and pulled the trigger. The addled brain of the gnoll had just enough to register his doom and then they were blown out the back of his skull. The cycle slammed into the side of the Orion and then tumbled back, forcing the remaining CrackJaws to swerve around it.

The truck barreled forward now, closing the distance between it and the Orion '23. The gnolls in the bed of the truck and the one in the passenger's seat shot wildly, but hit little. As it came closer, Meepo released his spell, twin eye beams lancing into the driver of the Centaurus. However, it was not enough to kill the driver, who brought the truck side by side with the Orion. The CrackJaws in the back of the truck grabbed their axes and attempted to jump into the car, but Dirk swerved away at the last second. They ploughed into the asphalt headfirst and splattered on the road, their axes sending sparks flying as they skittered and bounced.

Dirk pulled the car back close to the truck, as Case Nine had drawn his mace. Undisturbed by the howling wind, the robot leaned out the side of the Orion and began to batter down the driver's side door. In the meantime, Meepo once more lanced the driver with eye-bolts and this time the driver slumped over the wheel. The Centaurus veered wildly as the CrackJaw in the passenger's seat struggled to keep the truck on the road. While this was happening, the other two cyclists appeared unable to keep up with the battle and lagged behind. Mere shot one of these two, sending his bike out of control and one more gnoll slamming into the road.

The gnoll in the truck gained control of the vehicle, but seemed to lose the will to fight. The CrackJaw disengaged and roared off, Dirk letting him go and hit the breaks, the last of the motorcycles roaring past. Coming to a stop, Dirk turned to Mere, "What the hell was that about?" The cleric put up her hands, "I don't know! I don't know!" Meepo cowered in the corner and whimpered. The rogue bellowed, "They knew exactly who you were! What are you hidi ... " Case Nine cut him off, "We can ask one of them. I disabled the motorcycle of one of them and I saw him crash in the grass. I suggest we go find him before he runs off." Dirk gunned it, the tires squealing as he turned the car around and headed toward town.

*   *   *​
The CrackJaw was indeed still alive, for when they went back, the gnoll took a shot at the Orion from far off the road. Having lost all patience, Dirk wheeled the car off the road and seemed hell-bent on running down the CrackJaw. The gnoll turned to flee, but tripped in the high grass. Case Nine immediately leapt from the vehicle and tackled the gnoll as he regained his footing. Dirk left the car running and Case Nine dragged the CrackJaw into the blinding headlights of the Orion.

Dirk got out of the car and pulled his pistol, leveling it at the gnoll's head. "Okay. So I was having a good day. And, I assure you, it was going to get better. But it has gone south pretty quick since you showed up. You speak Pell-Mell?" The gnoll squirmed and the rogue shoved the gun into his temple. The CrackJaw stared at Dirk, then nodded, "Yah. What ya want?" Dirk thumbed at Mere, "Why did you want with 'her?" The gnoll shrugged, "Old job. We look for her, but never find." Dirk glanced back at the priestess, then back to the CrackJaw, "What were you going to do with her if you found her?" The gnoll shrugged, "She worth money, but boss not tell us where we take her." Dirk asked, "Who wanted her found?" The CrackJaw shrugged, "You ask boss questions, he drives truck."

Dirk took the gun from the gnoll's temple, "Case put him down." The robot did and Dirk looked at the CrackJaw, "Get out of here. If I see you again, you're dead." Seeing no alternative, the gnoll fled into the darkness. In the background, Meepo quietly looted the disabled motorcycle, finding a few coins and the CrackJaw's stash of devilweed. The kobold handed over his findings to Dirk and the rogue put them in the glove compartment of the Orion. He then turned to Mere, about to say something. The cleric was ready, "I don't know how they got involved. My family would have been searching for me, but I know they would never have hired a gang. Maybe they caught wind of the situation and hoped to offer me up for ransom." Dirk rubbed his eyes, "We can talk about it later. Let's get out of here before more of them show up."

They pulled back onto the highway and burned into the night, the red of their tail-lights becoming pinpricks and then disappearing all together.


*Notes:*

1 Paragon Fuel is an alchemic fuel manufacturing and distribution company now based in Asheril. The founding members of the company fled from the Protectorate during the tumultuous "Consolidation" many years ago. Their corporate logo is a mighty titan bearing a massive boulder upon his back.
2 The Centaurus series is considered one of the most successful auto-cart designs of all time. Renown for its power, reliability and ease of maintenance, the series is well suited for a variety of tasks. The Centaurus '10 described here looks suspiciously like a 1948 Ford Pickup.
3 Devilweed is made from dried leaves of the wyssin plant. It is traditionally smoked to gain strength and courage, although users are typically nervous and paranoid. Devilweed products are illegal in Asheril, although widely used in some circles. The game mechanics for devilweed are described in the Book of Vile Darkness. Briefly, it provides a bonus to Strength, does Wisdom damage, and leaves the user Shaken.
4 The CrackJaws are a notorious gang of gnolls. They operate mainly in the mostly lawless areas in between the cities of Asheril and New Lud. They are a rather large group and routinely take part in highway robbery, hostage taking, and sometimes act as bounty hunters or hired thugs.
5 In the campaign setting, gnolls have scent.
6 The Drive skill has been added to the campaign. This allows the user to drive most general-purpose motor vehicles, such as cars and trucks. It was taken almost whole cloth from d20 Modern.
7 A creative use of the "Blooooooon-diiiiiiiie!" Swashbuckling Card.


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## Pell-Mell (Aug 4, 2007)

*CASE FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN*
_Session 7, Part 2: Another Day, Another Dollar_

***THUCK***

Dirk jumped, startled out of his catnap by the thing at the car window. It was a filthy mutant infant, mostly human except for the two thick tentacles in place of arms, the suckers puckering on the glass. The thing wailed as the child's mother screamed something incomprehensible, splattering the pane with spittle. She was a gaunt, sallow thing, her eyes wide and mad and teeth and mouth the blue of the sannish junkie.1 Dirk instinctively recoiled and reached for the pistol under his jacket. The woman saw the butt of the gun and drew back in exaggerated horror, the mutie's suckers giving loud pops as they were ripped off the glass, and ran off still screaming. Dirk let his hand fall to the side and slumped back in the driver seat, "What the hell is taking so long?"

The Orion idled in a long line of cars, trucks, carts, and foot traffic outside the high concrete walls of the city of Asheril. Swarming between the stalled traffic were throngs of beggars, merchants hawking food and trinkets, whores plying their ancient trade, and no less than three crazies wearing cardboard placards scrawled with dense text, each foretelling a different but equally imminent apocalypse. The day was hot and humid, the air thick with alchemic exhaust and the stench of sweat and animal offal. Despite the heat, Dirk kept the windows up and the car was stifling hot and hazy with smoke. From the back seat, Mere mopped her forehead and leaned forward, "Can't we just go to another gate?" Meepo made a sleepy confirmatory sound. The rogue shook his head, "This is our best option. Martyr Gate is the loosest gate in town and I know people here. I really don't want to have explain the corpse and guns in the trunk. Capiche?" The cleric sunk back, too hot and wayworn to argue.

They waited for what seemed an eternity in the jam. Eventually they heard a ragged cry rise from ahead and traffic began to move. As they crept closer to the walls of Asheril, they saw the massive gate that lead into the city proper. A guard station warded the entrance, staffed by bored looking human police and several municipal ogres.2 The police slowly went about checking papers and identification cards and occasionally inspecting the trunk of a car or the back of a horse-drawn cart. The ogres sat under a make-shift tarp to protect them from the vicious sun, their faces slack and eyes vacant; their souls long crushed by generations of careful breeding and training and extensive use of psychotropic drugs and charm spells. Dirk smirked as they got closer to gate. He could see Chuck. Looking back to the others, the rogue said, "I know this guy, he bribes easy. Just be quiet and stay cool."

Chuck was a man in his late thirties with receding, curly blond hair, a gut that rolled over his belt, and a big idiot grin permanently plastered across his face. Dirk cutoff a truck and edged the Orion '23 over to the lane where Chuck was checking the identification of a long-distance hauler. After clearing the trucker, he waved up the next car, his stupid smile growing even wider as recognized the red Orion. Dirk pulled up and rolled down the window, Chuck exclaiming, "Dirk Chance! Where the hell have you been?" The cop leaned into open window, looking around and not waiting for a response, "I see you are still with the robot. When are you going to get a real partner, eh?" His eyes roved to the back seat, "What do we have here? A beauty and subhuman. What's your name, darling?" Meepo was about to answer, when Mere put her hand on the kobold's knee to silence him and gave Chuck a strained smile.

Dirk drew the cop's attention back him to him with a question, "Hey man, what was the hold up earlier?" Chuck turned to the rogue, "Ah, some dumbass tanker trucker clipped a corner of the wall on the far side of the gate. Punched a hole in his tank and it started spraying some weird alchemical goop everywhere. HEX-Mat came in and cleaned it up, said it was non-toxic anyway."3 Dirk nodded, not particularly interested, "Anyway, I have my papers. Everything should be in order." The rogue handed him the papers and the cop rifled through them quickly until he found what he wanted: two crumpled p-notes.4 With expert grace, he pocketed the bills and said, "You got nothing in the trunk, right?" Dirk shook his head, "Nope, nothing at all." Chuck gave him back his identifications and made Dirk sign in some basic information for Mere and Meepo, which the rogue falsified with fake names and locations. 

Chuck glanced at this and patted the side of the Orion, "Okay, you are good to go. Give me a call later, we can go out for a beer?" Dirk gave him a thumbs up. "Alright, get out of here. Welcome home."

*   *   *​
Although Asheril was considered a City of Man, it was by far the most cosmopolitan of them all. Among the throngs of humans were a multitude of non-human races that flourished behind the mighty walls of the city. Making their way through the crowded streets, the group saw many of them: gnoll thugs loitering on corners, flocks of kenku darting about, a gaggle of goblins selling their wares, enslaved ogres digging up a street.5 Dirk picked his way home carefully, avoiding several neighborhoods he knew were unsafe and several others because he was unsure of their current status, as he had been gone from the city for several months.

Dirk pulled onto his street, passing the buzzing neon sign of the Blue Dragon Bar, which barring riots or hurricanes, never closed. The buildings were typical of the neighborhood: densely packed row homes, most three stories tall, with shuttered windows and wrought iron balconies on the second and third floors. Many of the first floors held businesses and offices and the windows were covered with steel bars or chain-link fence overlays. They pulled in front of one such building where a battered sign read: Chance and Nine, Investigations. The offices of the duo were flanked by two businesses, on the left was a goblin run junk shop and on the right was the parlor of Moonbeam, a woman soothsayer, herbalist, and occasional midwife. Dirk pulled into an empty spot and cut the engine. Turning to the others, he gestured to the door, "This is it. Home sweet home."

Case Nine popped open the trunk and started to unpack what they could when he noted somebody was coming toward the car. The Lud-Man gestured at the approaching figure, "Dirk..." The thing was clearly dead, skin stretched taught over its nearly bald skull. Dressed in dirty overalls and pushing a broom, the undead gave a groan and lurched toward Dirk, its one good eye fixed on the rogue. Dirk fished around in his pockets, already knowing what was coming next. The zombie shambled up to Dirk, rasping out with some difficulty, "Hey Joe ... Got any smokes?" Dirk put a cigarette in the corpse's mouth and lit it up. He then put a half-full pack of Belkers in the front pocket of the corpse's overalls. The zombie croaked, "Thanks ... Joe." It then shuffled off, sweeping dirt into the street and occasionally picking up a piece of trash and putting it in a sack.

Dirk saluted the corpse and turned to the others, "His name used to be Dan Greene. Now it is just Shambling Dan. He was a maintenance guy and used to live down the street. He died about five years or so. Spontaneous reanimation."6 He shrugged, "The only thing he ever asks for is smokes. And for a corpse, he does a pretty good job of cleaning." He hitched his thumb toward the parlor of Moonbeam, "Our neighbor has the DNA License."7 He shouldered a bag that Case Nine gave him, "Anyway, let's get unpacked and inside. Mere and Meepo, we can get you some grub from the Blue Dragon. Case and I need to finish this business today." They did so, but as they left the office to give the body of Braford over to Brother Lusin, a gargoyle was waiting for them on the street.

"Mr. Chance and Mr. Nine, we have business to discuss." The stony creature hulked in the space between the door and car, rumbling the words. "The Watcher Guild has been quite patient with you. Our contract specified one month of guarding."8 Case Nine stepped forward, ready to engage, but Dirk pushed past him, his hands up in front of him, "Ma-Gog, our agency appreciates the patience. We will gladly pay the overage charges plus any additional costs deemed necessary. We wish to remain in the good graces of the Guild." 

Ma-Gog twitched its tail and looked the two over with its dark alien eyes. "We accept your offer and you will remain in good standing with the Guild, Mr. Chance and Mr. Nine." The gargoyle seemed to relax slightly and told the duo of what happened to their property during their absence. In totality, there had been several break in attempts on the office with had been thwarted by the gargoyle and a new kenku gang had attempted to claim the street as its territory, but was rebuffed by the current kenku gang. Using some loot from the ruins, Dirk and Case paid their debt to the gargoyle, which then soared off into the sky.

*   *   *​
They made there way to Godstreet, where the tiny shine of the Cult of the Seven Lords of Light was located.9 Dirk pulled off the main street, making his way down a narrow side one. Parking in front of a small house with a hand-painted sign of the cult's symbol emblazoned on the front, they got out and began to head toward the door. The door of the shine opened and an older man, thin and spry, came down the front steps. "Oh, thank the Seven Lords you are safe! I thought I had sent you to your doom. It has been so long!" He shook each of their hands, "Did you find him? Oh, how I have prayed for this day." 

Dirk looked away for a moment, than turned to the priest, "Brother Lusin, we found him. But I think we need to talk." The color drained from the cultist's face and he looked at the empty back seat of the Orion, "Yes, yes, of course. Come inside." At the dinner table, Dirk and Case Nine told the priest of all that had transpired in the distant ruins and what had become of the paladin. When they were done, Case Nine returned to car and carefully removed the corpse of Isaiah Braford from the trunk, bringing the body into the house. Brother Lusin, with a heavy heart, telephoned the other followers of his faith and told them of the paladin's death. One by one, the followers of the faith arrived at the chapel and it was well after dark when they all had assembled.

They buried the paladin in the small lot behind the shrine by candlelight. Case Nine dug the grave, as the cultists sung dirges. Soon, the paladin was laid to rest and Brother Lusin said the final prayer, the warforged filling in the grave. After the ceremony, the duo collected their fee and although the cultists offered them more for their troubles, they refused, taking only what they had originally agreed to. Their job done, Dirk and Case Nine said their good-byes and drove off into the night.




*Notes:*

1 Sannish (also known as "Blue Heaven" or "Azure Dream") is a commonly abused narcotic in Asheril. While under the influence, users are euphoric and generally numbed to pain. In addition to being a powerful narcotic, sannish is a deep blue dye that easily stains anything it comes in contact with. As it usually suspended in various liquids to cover its bitter taste, the mouth and teeth of the sannish addict are usually blue. Sannish products are not regulated in Asheril. The game mechanics for sannish are described in the Book of Vile Darkness. Briefly, it makes the user immune to pain effects, does Wisdom damage, and leaves the user with a penalty to Initiative.
2 Ogres were first brought to Asheril approximately three hundred years ago by the Neogi, a race of spider-like slavers. Native to a distant continent, only ogre males were brought at first. The rulers of Asheril, immediately seeing the potential of the dull-witted but strong ogre, secretly charged a group of adventurers to discover the homeland of the giants. The adventuring group did so, raiding and taking enough ogres to create a stable breeding pool in Asheril. The Neogi, enraged at being cheated out of what would have been a successful and lucrative deal, severed all relations with Asheril for over a hundred years.
3 A common term for the Department of *H*azardous, *E*nchanted, and E*x*otic *Mat*erials.
4 A slang term for one of the dominations of paper money unique to Asheril. A p-note is roughly equivalent to a platinum piece.
5 For player characters, the only race available from the PHB is the human. The other races, such as elves and dwarves, are not native to the setting, although a few may have wandered in from alternative worlds, planes, or eras. The other playable player races are gnoll (modified to be a LA +0 race), goblin, kenku, and warforged. The game mechanics and a picture of the kenku can be found here.
6 Although rare, corpses in the setting sometimes undergo spontaneous reanimation. Unlike true zombies and skeletons, these undead return with some intelligence and memory of their prior life. It is not unusual for them to continue to repeat some activity they did in life, but given there limited intellect, they generally focus on one facet of it.
7 *D*epartment of *N*ecromantic *A*ffairs. The governmental department in Asheril whose charge it is to track, license, and collect fees for the ownership of mindless undead (most commonly skeletons and zombies). For a fee, this department will also supply corpses or bones for necromancy spells.
8 All gargoyles in the city of Asheril belong to the Watcher's Guild, a group that provides surveillance and security. They always make use of contracts that specifically describe the length, type, and extent of service. For a large fee, a gargoyle will defend the contract property to the death.
9 Godstreet is the common name for the temple district in Asheril.


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## Hatchling Dragon (Aug 5, 2007)

So, what's next for our intrepid detective agency?

When are you going to start an online game so I have a chance to adventure in this world?


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## Pell-Mell (Feb 24, 2008)

*CASE FILE 002: THE CASE OF THE STOLEN KEY*
_Session 8, Part 1: ...And All This Before Breakfast_

The street was already hot and the ancient sun was barely over the horizon, rays of golden-red light lancing through humid, smog-laden air. Dirk sat in the shadows near the second floor window of the offices of Case and Nine Investigations, his presence betrayed only by the glowing ember of his cigarette. The rogue watched the scene on the street below with detached interest. Across the way, Meldrop's Lock and Key, a locksmith shop, was being looted by a gang of filthy men, each holding a length of broken pipe or makeshift blade. He saw no gang signs or colors among them; they were probably unincorporated, the lowest order of scum.

Dirk took another drag off his cigarette and looked up and down the lane. Where were the RazorFeathers? The gang of kenku that Dirk and Case Nine, as well as the other businesses on the street, paid for protection were nowhere to be seen. In fact, except for the punks, the street was deserted. Even Shambling Dan had vanished, some instinct in the rotten brain of the zombie still providing a vestige of self-preservation. The rogue sighed and crushed out his smoke in the ashtray by the window, the cigarette crumpling on the belly of the bare-breasted succubus on the bottom of the tray, the words "CIBOLA AWAITS!" over her horned head.1

Dirk got up and walked across the room, grabbing his leather jacket and taking his gun from the night table beside his disheveled bed. They would have to take care of it. If they didn't, the street would get a reputation as an easy target. The rogue made sure the gun was hidden beneath his jacket and hit the dimly lit panel of a box on the wall with the flat of his hand. The device crackled to life and Dirk whispered into it, "Case, we got some trouble up here. Meet me at the front door." The rogue looked back to the street and saw three more men emerge from the shadows of an alley and join their fellows in looting. "Bring your hammer." From his room in the basement, Case Nine responded, "Understood." The intercom went silent and the rogue grabbed his short sword before padding down the stairs into the first floor office.

*   *   *​
Case Nine was already at the door when Dirk came down, his greathammer in his hands, "I have seen the intruders through the window." The warforged continued, "Mere went to the temple of her god early this morning and Meepo went with her. They will not be able to join us." Dirk nodded, "Try not to kill any of the punks out there. More problems than it's worth." The robot agreed and seeing his friend was ready, the duo made their way to the street.

Dirk had hoped that the sight of the massive Case Nine would send the looters running. Instead the ones on the outside gave a hoarse cry and several of the dregs inside the shop spilled out onto the sidewalk. Dirk stood to one side of the warforged, his blade out and ready, and called to the men, "Now, we can do this the hard way or the easy wa ..." They did not let the rogue finish, instead they swarmed forward with club and knife. The robot was ready for this and blocked the way between them and Dirk. Then the heavy hammer of Case Nine swung and bodies began to fly in all directions. "The hard way it is then.", Dirk muttered and ducked as a thug was sent soaring over him and careened into a nearby parked car.

Knowing that the robot could handle the thugs on the outside, Dirk wove between a parked jalopy of indeterminate make and a late model Centaurus and made his way into Meldrop's shop. Passing by the door, he could see that it was still intact with no sign of forced entry. The inside of the shop was dark, but even in the gloom Dirk could see it was a disaster. The rogue flicked the light switch and a set of overhead fluorescents flickered on. A startled cry from the backroom of the shop drew Dirk's attention and the rogue darted toward it, his blade at the ready.

Dirk nearly collided with a thug coming forward from the backroom, but the rogue rolled to one side, dropping his blade. He hit the ground and swept out with a savage kick, undercutting the punk and sending him sprawling. Before the dreg could recover, Dirk was up and on him, slamming him into the floor, "What are you doing here? You're not any gang I know." The thug spat in Dirk's face and struggled to free himself. The rogue clenched the throat of the looter with one hand and pulled out his gun with the other. Dirk shoved it into the temple of the man, whose eyes were now wide with terror and he went still. "Okay, let's try this again. What are you doing here?"

"Irontusk said the door would be open. Said we could have anything in the shop and the birds would be gone."2 Dirk growled, "Who is Irontusk?" The man moaned, realizing he had given out more information than he intended, but Dirk drilled the barrel of the gun into the thug's head until he responded, "Indie. Gnoll. Works out of Barge End. Said he only needed one thing in here, the rest was ours."3 The rogue pondered for a second, "What did Irontusk want?" The man's eyes rolled in anguish, his voice rising in pitch, "How the hell should I know? C'mon man, the cops are going to be here soon!" 

Before Dirk could respond, Case Nine answered from the backroom doorway, "They have already arrived." Both Dirk and the thug cursed.

*   *   *​
The scene outside was bad. The street was littered with broken men, miraculously all of them still breathing, and the gutters ran red with spilt blood. No less than two squads of police had responded, their rifles out and trained on the front of the locksmith shop. Commanding them was their sergeant, who rode high upon a horse and whose face was hidden behind a featureless mask of brown alchemic resin attached to his helmet. Behind them, lumbering up the street, was a Breaker and its keeper.4 The sergeant called out, his voice amplified by sorcery or electronics, "Everyone out! You will not be asked twice."

With the looter pushed out first by Case Nine, Dirk and the warforged exited the shop with their hands up and empty. Dirk glanced down the street and saw the Breaker, which by now, was up to the line of cops. Somebody must have called in their was a robot involved. No Scanners or Sniffers, though.5,6 At least there was that.

The duo and the looter were commanded to their knees, handcuffed, and roughly searched. The police found no weapons on any of them, for they had dropped their melee weapons inside the store and Dirk had hastily hidden his pistol when Case Nine dragged the thug out to face the authorities. Without a Sniffer, the rogue was confident that it would not be found. As Dirk was frisked, he told the cop that the ownership papers for Case Nine and licenses for their sword and greathammer were in his wallet. These were shown to the police sergeant, who by this time had dismounted, and briefly examined them before waving them away. A squad of the police entered the locksmith's shop and quickly determined it was empty, sounding an all-clear.

The police interrogation was brief. Dirk succinctly explained what had happened and the looter, knowing he was doomed, tried to drag the rogue down with him. He told the sergeant about Dirk's pistol, as private ownership of guns is illegal in the city, but the cop had heard enough and cut the thug off. The sergeant turned to one side and made a clicking sound. Then he was quietly talking to someone else, his helmet transmitting his message to elsewhere in the city. In short order, a black Cetus marked with the insignia of the police rolled up the still quiet street.7 Dour-faced men in simple dark uniforms disembarked and swung the rear doors open, unceremoniously loading the wounded thugs into the cavernous interior. The last thug was marched into the truck at gun point, the doors secured, and the Cetus rumbled off, its contents bound for the prison farms or necrocycling.8

Case Nine and Dirk were released from the handcuffs and the police sergeant mounted his steed. His voice flat from the modulation of his helm, he asked, "Where is the proprietor of this shop?" Dirk rubbed his wrists and shrugged, "He keeps odd hours...Wait, here he comes." From around the corner at the end of the street, came the locksmith Theldrat Meldrop. He was a large man with pale skin and a great mustache of which he was particularly proud. And this morning, he did not look well, staggering and obviously hung-over. The police sergeant's voice was suddenly huge, "Meldrop. I wish to speak with you." At the sound of his name, Theldrat looked up in surprise, his eyes growing wide as he saw the police, the rogue, and the robot. He lurched forward and half-ran down the street. When he saw the condition of his shop, both his hands went to his head, pulling on his hair and he gave a groan.

The events of the morning were relayed to the locksmith, who grew paler with every word. At the end, he managed to croak out a single question in a small voice, "Do you know what they got away with?" The sergeant made a negative sign and instructed him on the procedures for reporting what had been stolen, once he had time to sort it out. And with that, the police departed and Meldrop darted into his shop once they were out of view. He began to ransack the place, babbling to himself. Case Nine and Dirk exchanged a look and they both entered the shop, the robot retrieving their weapons and the rogue speaking to the locksmith, "Theldrat, what are you looking for?" The locksmith turned in surprise, a look of total despair on his face and tears rolling freely down his fat cheeks. "They took it ... my father's key! ... It was a ... family heirloom!" He described the jeweled key in loving detail, only pausing to wipe his nose on the back of his sleeve.

Dirk listened patiently and then explained that he had questioned one of the thugs before the cops showed up. The rogue then smirked, "I think we already have a lead." Theldrat sprung to his feet with surprising speed and put his meaty hands on Dirk's shoulders, "You do? Then you must find it for me! I will pay anything!"  Dirk looked over to Case Nine, who nodded, and said, "We will take the case. Should be an easy job."


*Notes:*

1 Cibola is a pseudo-city-state to the distant west. Technically part of the Western Kingdoms that lie along the western coast of the Continent, it is a wealthy desert city rumored to be controlled by demons. The city is widely known for its many bars, gambling dens and brothels. It is said that no vice is too dark or vile to be satisfied by the city.
2 Birds is a common slang term for kenku in Asheril.
3 Barge End is a small, dangerous dock district in the city.
4 Breakers are specially bred and indoctrinated ogres. They are used by the Asheril police for destroying heavily armored targets or gaining entry into reinforced structures or vehicles. When in the field, all Breakers wear heavy armor (usually full-plate) and are armed with a massive greathammer. As the climate of Asheril is far too hot to practically wear this degree of armor routinely, all Breakers are protected by an endure elements spell when deployed.
5 Scanners is slang for low-level spellcasters among the police force who routinely make use of detect magic to scan for spell use or magic items among the general populace. Faint auras are usually ignored, but stronger auras may draw the attention of the force.
6 Sniffers is slang for worgs that are in the employ of the police. These wolf-like creatures have adapted well to the urban environment and use their exquisite sense of smell to track down suspects and find hidden caches of alchemics and drugs. Worgs are notorious fickle, ill-tempered and self-serving. They are almost impossible to bribe, making them greatly feared.
7 The Cetus is a large van-like vehicle used primary for personnel transport.
8 For criminals for which the city can not find a use for or are too feeble, the most common fate is execution and delivery to the Department of Necromantic Affairs for eventual reanimation. This process is called necrocycling.


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## Ethalias (Feb 27, 2008)

Just thought I'd add my two cents and say I'm hooked!  Love the whole vibe of your game, and you write it well.  I look forward to your next post


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## Peterson (Mar 7, 2008)

I would pay for this setting.  With real money, no less.  

Peterson


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## jezter6 (Mar 7, 2008)

I would pay Peterson for this setting. With real money.


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## Pell-Mell (Mar 9, 2008)

*CASE FILE 002: THE CASE OF THE STOLEN KEY*
_Session 8, Part 2: He Can't Swim, But He Can Float_

Case Nine strode through the crowd, the people instinctively parting before the massive robot. Dirk followed, scanning the busy docks for their quarry. The sun was at its zenith by the time they had reached the docks and the day was sweltering. 

It had taken Dirk longer than he had wanted to get some information on Irontusk after prying the name from the thug in the locksmith's shop. The first few contacts the rogue had reached out to either could not be found or refused to answer. In the end, they had got what they needed from a junkie wizard named Walter Gant. Walt was a talented wizard with a knack for enchanting all manner of items, from weapons to custom charms and wards. He was also a Dreamer1 and worked fast and cheap to support his habit. 

When the duo had arrived at the wizard's back-alley workshop, their hailing had received no answer at first. Then there was a warbling, plaintive screech from beyond the door. Dirk looked at Case Nine, "It's his familiar. He never goes anywhere without it." He glanced back at the workshop door, "I got a bad feeling about this." The rogue quickly inspected the door and determined it was barred from the inside, as he picked the lock with ease and still the door did not open. Dirk then looked up and down the alley and nodded at Case Nine, who kicked in the door with a single blow.

From the darken workroom shot a thin cat the color of smog, its tail swooshing in agitation. It passed back and forth from door to alley and yowled. Dirk looked down, "Lead us to Walt." The familiar shot into the darkness and the duo followed. They found him on the floor of his filthy bathroom, wrapped around the toilet, naked but for a pair of stained boxers. Dirk dropped to his knees and put his hand near his mouth, "Still breathing! Let's get him up." The robot bought the junkie upright as Dirk gave him a gentle slap to bring him around. The wizard's eyes shot open and he tried to jerk free from the warforged, croaking something unintelligible. Case Nine clamped down on Walt and turned to Dirk, "Get him what he needs. He is useless until then. I will make sure he goes nowhere." The rogue got to his feet, considered, and then was off to score for the wizard.

Dirk had a hard go of it, as the dealers were wary of the unfamiliar rogue and he was unfamiliar with the scene. Eventually, he managed to get what he needed: several packets of dreammist power enveloped in precisely folded g-notes.2 When Dirk returned to the wizard's workshop, he found that Case Nine had done more than just kept Walt put: he was washed up and sitting forlornly at a battered table eating a bowl of soup. Walt looked with excitement when Dirk walked into the shop and the rogue tossed the packets of drugs on the table. Walter grabbed them greedily and started to get up, when the hand of Case Nine held him down, "Do what you need then return. We have questions for you." And then the wizard was off to the small kitchenette, his familiar creeping from a shadow to lap at the abandoned soup.

Walter returned a new man, his pace languid and easy. He dropped into his chair, put out his hands and looked at his visitors, "Dirk and Case, you are so beautiful! I owe you so much..." Then his eyes went wide as something on an unseen vista caught his attention, "I see ... I see the white domes of Xanadu shimmering in the heat of the high season!" Dirk snapped his fingers in front of the dreaming wizard, "Whoa, before you go off too far, we have some questions." The wizard refocused on Dirk, "Of course! But if only you could see what I see!" 

The questioning was frustrating, for the wizard often drifted, but the duo got what they needed: Irontusk was truly a freelancer and was unaffiliated with any gangs. He was a brute of a gnoll and had earned his moniker after he had lost most of one of his fangs in a fight with the minotaurs at the Mall.3,4 He worked mostly in thievery and fencing, but sometimes as hired muscle. He was rumored to have a terrible temper and a love of gambling. Walt knew all this as he had done some work for Irontusk and enchanted a blade of his, but the wizard had heard that the gnoll had lost it in a game of cards. After the duo had the information they required, they left the wizard to his exquisite hell and made their way down to Barge End.

And now, as they passed yet another set of cramped boats, a glint of reflected light caught Dirk's eye. Out on the deck of a docked boat, a massive gnoll paused in his work of moving crates, sweaty fur plastered to his skin. The gnoll yawned and revealed a steel fang that glittered in the hot sun. Dirk reached out to Case Nine, who stopped and looked where the rogue quietly told him.

Then there was a shrill whistle and the chase was on.

* * *​
There had been a look out, although neither Dirk nor Case Nine had spotted her. The goblin woman had seen the duo though and had dropped her knife and the fish she was gutting to jam her index fingers into her mouth. She gave a single, loud whistle and then was gone, scrambling off the boat she was working in and darting between two ancient warehouses. As the alarm sounded, Irontusk jerked to face land, his hand flying to shade his eyes from the brutal sun. And then he too was in motion. 

Dirk cursed, "Damnit, he's fast!" The duo ran down a long dock, watching the gnoll leap deftly from boat to boat. Irontusk moved quickly away, but seemed to make no movement toward land. As Dirk watched, he saw Irontusk pause for a moment and look down a row of docked boats and the rogue knew where the gnoll was going. Dirk pointed at a small boat with an outboard engine, "He heading for that!"

Case Nine need no further instructions and started after the gnoll, but as he jumped from the dock to a nearby boat, the deck gave under the weight of the robot as he landed. He shot through the ship and plunged into the filthy water below. The warforged emerged further along, clambering up the side of a ship, and was attacked by three guard dogs as he crawled over the edge. Paying the dogs no heed, he pushed through them as they growled and bit at him, but their fangs were nothing to this armor. The Lud-Man strode across the deck of the ship and leapt off once again in pursuit of the gnoll, this time landing on small barge. Once more, the heavy robot crashed through the deck into the water, but this time he did not emerge.

In the meantime, Dirk was making his own way across the crowded docks. Leaping from ship to ship, he was having an easier time than the robot, but his path was no less treacherous. He slipped across decks slimy with rank fish guts, ducked under a glob of sticky webbing spat out by a caged giant spider, and dodged a swipe of a broken bottle wielded by the angry, drunken captain of one of the ships he dashed across. But he was catching up with the gnoll, who had to stop once to extricate his leg from a tangle of fishing nets. 

Seeing the swift rogue was catching up with him, Irontusk paused as he jumped onto a wooden fishing boat, one of the last ships in a chain leading to his escape boat. Kicking over a rusting steel barrel, the gnoll hastily spilled the contents out onto the deck; the smell of kerosene rose into the hot summer air. With a fanged smile, the gnoll took out a lighter, flicked it alight, and tossed it at the spilt fuel. There was a whoosh and the gnoll staggered back, smoldering slightly as he was too close to his work, and ran off toward his escape boat. Behind him, the fishing boat began to burn with great vigor.

Dirk came up to the burning boat and spat out a curse. Through the flames, he could see that Irontusk was already on his little boat and was pulling the cord to start the motor. Where the hell was Case Nine? Seeing no other way to get to the gnoll, the rogue pulled his leather jacket over his face and dove into the flames, darting and rolling across the smoldering deck. He emerged on the other side, singed but unharmed. But now he heard the motor of Irontusk's boat roar to life and the gnoll started to pull out into the open water. Springing to his feet, he charged forward and made a long jump across the water and landed in the escape boat, the gnoll clearly surprised. Moving back, the gnoll pulled a long knife from his belt and growled, "I don't know who you are, but I'm going to gut you ... "

Suddenly the little boat lurched as a large metal hand shot from the water and grabbed on the side, threatening to capsize it. Dirk was already in motion, grabbing a wrench from the floor of the boat in both hands and smashing it into the side of the head of the distracted gnoll. There was a horrible, flat crack as Irontusk staggered back, screaming in pain. The gnoll tripped and fell as Case Nine pulled himself into the boat, the robot moving to secure Irontusk before he could get to his feet. Dirk maneuvered the boat back into the docks, although not exactly where they had come from, for the ship next to the one Irontusk had torched had caught fire and somewhere in the city, a siren had began to blare.

* * *​
Irontusk choked and foamed at the mouth, eyes ablaze with fury and hatred as he writhed under the steel grip of Case Nine.

The warforged had the gnoll pinned to a moldering brick wall of a warehouse in a narrow, gloomy alley. Dirk looked up from counting a fold of filthy g-notes he had taken from Irontusk, putting them in his own wallet. "Now, are you going to calm down? We don't have a lot of time and I don't think any of us want to be around to explain the boat fire." Echoing weirdly down the alley, the summer air was filled with the sounds of sirens and shouts. The gnoll growled once more, but stopped struggling, "What do you want?" The rogue nodded, "Much more reasonable. You did a job this morning. You took a jeweled key from our client. We want it back."

The gnoll snorted and spat, "Too late, human! I sold it this morning!" Dirk put one hand to his temples, "This was supposed to be easy. Who did you sell it to?" Irontusk spat at Dirk, "Screw you. Find out yourse ..." Case Nine clenched down on the gnoll's throat. Dirk shook his head, "Case Nine, do you mind taking him down to the docks? I am certain there are plenty of people who would like to have a word him." The warforged grabbed the gnoll and began to drag him down the alley, when Irontusk relented, "I'll tell you! But you have to let me go." Case Nine stopped and pulled the gnoll to his feet, Dirk giving Irontusk a thumbs up, "Deal. Now talk."

The gnoll brushed himself off, "I was contracted out by a gang called the Green Daggers. You ever heard of them?" The rogue made a negative sign and Irontusk continued, "Me neither, but they were paying good money for that key. They said they were too busy with other things, but they were lying." Dirk raised his eyebrows and made a gesture for the gnoll to continue, "They looked and smelled sick. Too sick to get this job done, but they wanted this key bad, so they hired me." Dirk leaned against the wall, "What did they want it for?" The gnoll shrugged, "Who knows." Dirk sighed, "Alright. Last question, then you vanish. Where does this gang hole up?" Irontusk grunted, "You already have their address. Check in the bills you just stole from me. I wrote it on one." And sure enough, when Dirk checked the g-notes, he found one that had a street address written in block lettering. The rogue took this bill, folded it, and put it the front pocket of his jacket.

The interrogation over, Case Nine shoved Irontusk down the alley. The gnoll glanced back once, eyes filled with hatred, and then was around the corner and gone. The duo waited a moment, then they too moved out, picking their way through alleys and backstreets to where they had parked the Orion '23. Then they too were gone.


*Notes:*

1 A Dreamer is a slang term for a mordayn vapor addict. Mordayn vapor (commonly known as "Dreammist") is a powerful hallucinogen. While under the influence, the user experiences visions of exquisite beauty. It is an extremely potent drug and the user generally seeps a small amount of the drug powder in a tea, inhaling only the fumes. Ingestion of the raw powder or tea itself is almost always fatal. Mordayn products are illegal in Asheril. The game mechanics for mordayn vapor are described in the Book of Vile Darkness. Briefly, it makes the user experiences visions of beauty and does Constitution and Wisdom damage. Once the drug has worn off, the user immediately seeks out more.
2 A slang term for one of the dominations of paper money unique to Asheril. A g-note is roughly equivalent to a gold piece.
3 Minotaurs are a race of artificial, near-human creatures created by an unknown elder culture of man. Their original purpose has been lost to time. In Asheril, they primary serve as guards of the Mall (see below), where their inability to get lost serves them well. There are no female minotaurs, rather the race procreates using human women and the resulting child is always a minotaur.
4 The Mall is a sprawling, partially enclosed shopping district in Asheril. It covers multiple city blocks, is many stories high in some places, and is rumored to even spread into other planes of existence at points. In the maze-like interior of the Mall, there is nothing one cannot buy or sell, legal or otherwise.


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## demiurge1138 (Mar 11, 2008)

Nice! I adapted the same adventure to my Eberron game - that chase is a good one!

Demiurge out.


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## nwjavahead (Mar 15, 2008)

*Great!*



			
				Pell-Mell said:
			
		

> *A Note from the DM*
> 
> A couple of things I wanted to mention. First, as always, I appreciate the comments. Thanks for the interest!
> 
> ...




After a very, very long absence from ENWorld/RPG'ng in general do to RL badness it is great to return to such great story hours such as this!  Bloody good job mate!  

Read it all in one sitting this morning.  Sub this one for sure, look forward to updates (playing in a similar style PBeM).

Any chance at a RG or PC Sheets in this thread?

djordje


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## Pell-Mell (Mar 23, 2008)

*CASE FILE 002: THE CASE OF THE STOLEN KEY*
_Session 9, Part 1: The Gangs All Here_

Dirk grabbed another bottle of Moradin's Best from the antique refrigerator and shut the door, returning to his meal on the pocked Formica table.1 The ceiling fan churned the thick, summer air, as the rogue ate, drank, smoked and thought in the cramped kitchen. 

The duo had a bit of good luck with finding out some details about this Green Dagger Gang. When they had arrived home from roughing up Irontusk, the phone had been ringing. When Dirk picked up, he heard a distinguished male voice with a queer accent that the rogue could not quite place. But Dirk recognized the voice immediately: it was one of the business voices of the kenku Tayko-Swift.2 Tayko-Swift was primarily a dealer in information and Dirk had contacted him earlier to find out about Irontusk. The two spoke in code and innuendo, for the phone lines of Asheril were thought to be under surveillance, Dirk telling the kenku what he needed had changed and the bird agreeing to a live meeting at the usual place.

The usual place was a nameless bar on a gloomy side street not far from the office of Chance and Nine. At this hour, the bar was mostly deserted, a single tired looking serving girl on duty. Dirk, who had come alone, found Tayko-Swift lurking in a corner booth, his form lost in the ill-fitted, colorless robe he habitually wore. Under the buzzing neon signs of extinct brands of beer and cigarettes, Dirk approached the kenku, who pulled back his hood and greeted the rogue in a lilting, feminine voice. Dirk gritted his teeth and his eyes narrowed in anger, spitting out, "Use that voice again and we are done." The kenku gave a laugh in its true voice, an inhuman cawing. Then his voice was Dirk's, "So sensitive. Still! Sit Dirk. You have questions. Maybe I have answers." 

And the bird did have answers to Dirk's queries about the Green Dagger Gang. The rogue found out the gang was a recent start-up founded by a mutant named Cyrathas. Although still passable as human, Cyrathas was an albino, was skeletally thin, and rumored to be a sorcerer of some skill. Cyrathas was not local and judging from his accent, was a native of the Protectorate. How he had evaded the gene-purges of those city-states was unknown, much to the chagrin of Tayko-Swift.3 The kenku also knew that the gang was still small and in process of establishing itself: they had pulled a few minor jobs and had torched a place, but nothing of significance. They had no alliances with the true gangs of the city, although the bird had heard the Green Dagger Gang had made overtures to them. So far they had been ignored. What was most curious was that over the last week or so, the Green Dagger Gang had retreated to their holdout and had effectively stopped working. The reasons for this were unknown, but Tayko-Swift was interested in finding out.

Having got what he needed, he tossed Tayko-Swift a wad of grimy g-notes and left the little nothing bar. From behind him, he heard a girl's voice calling a farewell, followed by the mocking caw-caw laughter of the kenku. Dirk paused for a second, a murderous intent overcoming him. But then it passed and he wiped the sweat off his brow. He jammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and walked away before he changed his mind.

* * *​
***BOOM***

Dirk was startled out of his thoughts when the front door of the office slammed shut.

Mere stalked into the kitchen and slammed her bag onto the table in anger, Meepo scampering in behind her. The priestess of Boccob looked to Dirk and unloaded on him, "Do you know where I have been all day?" She did not wait for a response. "Detained! I thought New Lud was bad! But in Asheril, you don't even get to defend yourself!" She glared at Dirk, "Well, give me a cigarette!" The bewildered rogue did so, as Meepo avoided eye contact and went to the fridge without a word and got them all a cold beer. As the cleric lit up and inhaled, Dirk rested his head on his hand, "So, tell me about your day. It's been pretty quiet around here." Mere shot him a look that could kill and gave him the finger.

After she calmed down, Mere did tell Dirk what had happened to her that morning. She had gone to the Temple of Boccob early, as today was a holy day commemorating the Accession of the Arch-Wizard Zagyg. Meepo had gone with her, as he was still acclimating to city life and the three of them took the kobold out whenever they could. When she had arrived at the University, where the main Temple of Boccob was located, Mere and Meepo had been rounded up by a squad of police.4

The job was made easy for the police, as she was in her formal purple and gold robes, as were her colleagues, in veneration of the holy day. The reasons for why they were being detained came in fragments, but the bright minds of the Acolytes of the All-Seeing Eye quickly put it together: A rare tome had been stolen from the Great Library of the University early that morning and the thief was identified a follower of Boccob. The university administrators had been particularly angry, as the book was apparently very valuable to them, despite it having a mystical lock that was unable to be opened. Dirk, who had been only half-listening up to this point, suddenly became very interested in the priestess' story.

Mere made a circular motion with her hand, a gesture betraying her New Lud heritage, and finished her tale, "Anyway, they finally let us go. Someone made some calls, I guess." She looked at Dirk, who was staring at her intently, "What?" The rogue crushed his smoke into the ashtray and exhaled, "I think we may have a lead on who stole that book." He then told them of what he and Case Nine had been up to that morning: the thugs, the missing key, the job, the chase on the docks, and finally the Green Dagger Gang. Dirk concluded, "A jeweled key and a book with a lock that can't be opened both stolen at the same time? That can't be a coincidence." He looked at the priestess and the kobold, "Will you help us with the Green Dagger Gang? They may have this book, as well as the key. We can try and talk with them, but I doubt this is going to go well." Without hesitation, both of them nodded.

"Good, get changed then. I already have your gear." Case Nine stood behind them, having come out of the cellar a little earlier. In one hand was a large, nondescript duffel bag and over his shoulder was his massive greathammer. "I will pack the car."

* * *​
They made only one stop on the way to the gang's hideout and that was to pick up the gargoyle Ma-Gog. Dirk knew the neighborhood the gang had set up in was dangerous and the car would be stripped as soon as they left it, so he petitioned the Watcher's Guild for a short-term arrangement. As Dirk and Case Nine were in good standing with the guild, their request was granted. At the appointed spot, Ma-Gog descended from a building and wedged itself into the backseat of the Orion '23, his bulk squeezing Meepo and Mere into the doors of the car. 

The ride was long, particularly for those in the backseat, as Dirk made his way down half-familiar streets. As they came closer to the Green Dagger's hideout, the neighborhood rapidly deteriorated. By the time they found the street the hideout was on, the neighborhood had given way to row upon row of gutted and boarded up buildings. Although no one could be seen on the sweltering street, everyone in the car felt that they were being watched.

Dirk parked the car in an alley and the group disembarked, Ma-Gog taking a position nearby and freezing, becoming a weathered statue. Case Nine unloaded the trunk, unzipping the duffel bag and handing out battle gear. Meepo looked particularly pleased when the robot handed him his newly bought gun, a Haagenti Munitions S-Type Dragon Rifle.5 With practiced precision, the kobold slid the bolt of the small rifle back, slipped a cartridge into the chamber, and slammed the bolt home. Case Nine patted the kobold on the head, "Well done." After a few other preparations, they left the alley and made their way down the cracked asphalt, the warforged in lead.

* * *​
The group halted at a low broken wall, the ground sparkling with shattered glass, and took in the house that was now the den of the Green Dagger Gang. The place had once been beautiful and even its terminal state of decay, some of its grandeur still lingered. The broad windows and large front door had been boarded up long ago and the front lawn was choked with weeds and trash. On one side of the house, the remains of a covered stable could be seen, although its interior was lost to shadow. They waited here, listening and looking. But in the punishing afternoon heat, nothing stirred and the only sounds were that of the city and the drone of summer insects.

Case Nine turned around, "Let us take a look at the stable. Then we try the front door." The group agreed and with the Lud-Man in lead, they made their way to the stables. They stopped well short of the shadowy interior and shielding their eyes from the glaring sun, peered into the darkness. All but Meepo could see little from their vantage point. The kobold saw more, for his people had long ago acquired the ability see in pitch darkness, and described the interior: vacant with a wrecked truck on cinderblocks in the corner and a few warped plywood shelves on the far wall. Case Nine turned to the others, "I will go in and take a quick look."

Bringing his greathammer to a ready position, Case Nine entered the shadowy interior of the stable, his scanners sweeping multiple spectrums for danger. As the robot entered, his scanners suddenly registered movement and sound from above. He had time to see them dropping from the rafters, free-falling for a moment before they twisted aright. Then their four bat-like wings suddenly unfolded and they were hovering and buzzing about angrily. Case Nine heard Meepo cry out, his voice high with fear, "Stirges!" For a moment, the creatures flapped about Case Nine in seeming confusion, then they shot out into the street, finding in Dirk, Mere, and Meepo what they really wanted: blood.

The hideous amalgams of insect and mammal dived for the living among the group, their terrible proboscis out and ready to steal lifeblood. But Dirk was ready for one coming for him, skewering it on his short sword. Meepo danced about, jabbing his spear out at one of the creatures that menacing him, doing it no harm but managing to keep it at bay. Mere was less fortunate as two sought her out, one of which she warded off with her blade, but the other managed to grab onto her with its many legs and reared its head to drive its proboscis into her. Mere recoiled in horror but suddenly the head of the thing was encased in steel and there was a terrible crunching sound as Case Nine, who had come running to assist, crushed the life out the little monster. Several other stirges that flapped about were just as quickly dispatched.

The battle over, Dirk mopped his sweaty brow, "God-damn it, I thought the papers said the stirges were all gone."6 Mere shrugged and Meepo poked at one with his spear saying, "These were weak ones. Their color is very pale ... I think they were starving." The group looked at Meepo, who shrugged this time, "One of the tasks the Queen gave me was to clear out a stirge nest. That time was much harder." Unconsciously, his clawed hand rubbed his shoulder, where the others knew a scar lay, "We should check to see if they had eggs. Stirges do no one good." And indeed, when they checked the stable they found a cluster of milky-white eggs lodged in the rafters. The eggs were quickly crushed.

Finding nothing of value in the stables, they crept up to the front door of the house. Dirk gave the massive door a once over and put his ear to it, whispering back to the others, "The door and lock are new. They messed it up so it looks old. Doesn't sound like anybody is home." Taking a second look at the door, he continued, "Looks like they have rigged it with some kind of alarm." Taking a set of picks from the inner pocket of his leather jacket, the rogue set to work. With the group hovering about him, Dirk disabled both the lock and the alarm. Drawing his pistol, he looked back at the others, "I'm going to have a look around. Be ready if you hear something."

With his free hand, he pushed the door open slightly, recoiling immediately as a wave of heat and stench hit him. The smell was ungodly; a mixture of sweat, excrement, urine, rotting meat, mildew, and other unidentifiable but unwholesome things. Dirk stumbled back and almost puked, but managed to keep his lunch down by moving to the side to get some fresh air. Thinking quickly, Mere took a strip of cloth meant to be used as a bandage from her first-aid kit, dabbed it with water from her canteen, and handed it to Dirk. The rogue tied the makeshift filter over his lower face as Mere prepared two more masks for Meepo and herself. Ready this time, and over the protests of Case Nine, the rogue slipped into the den of the Green Dagger Gang.

* * *​
The room Dirk entered was lit by a single, naked light bulb hung from the ceiling. The room was large, obviously meant to impress long dead guests of its previous owners, and had three sets of doors. Immediately across from the front door was a large set of double doors upon which someone had spray painted a crude dagger in shock green. On the walls to the right and left, were smaller doors. As he stepped into the center of the room, the rogue froze as he heard something: a metallic squeak. He waited, his heart beating wildly in his chest, but the sound did not repeat. Avoiding the large double doors, the rogue crept to right, deciding to try that door first.

Suddenly, he heard the squeak again and the door he was heading toward burst open. Filling the doorway was a warforged in an ancient wheelchair, an automatic rifle in its hands. The warforged was a different make and model than Case Nine, with a coppery metal hide, block-shaped head, and emerald green eyes that flickered slightly. The robot needed the wheelchair, for its legs had been severed above the knees, the stumps crudely sealed with a black, alchemic epoxy. Despite its infirmities, the machine man was lightening quick and leveled the gun directly at Dirk's chest. The warforged was about to pull the trigger and end the rogue's life when it malfunctioned and slumped in its chair, its green eyes flickering once before going dark.7

The rogue wasted no time, leveling his pistol at the warforged and putting a hole in the robot's chest. Case Nine, who had been lingering near the entrance, was already in motion, charging across the room and bringing his greathammer down in a killing arc. The wheelchair bound robot's eyes suddenly flashed with emerald light and it came back online, drawing a sword from the back of the chair and parrying Case Nine's greathammer. Mere and Meepo entered as well, the kobold closing the door behind him. The cleric lined up a shot, but it went wide and drilled into the wall.

Dirked backed up, reloading his pistol for another shot at the warforged, when the double doors with the graffiti began to shake and bulge outward, as if something was trying to get out. The rogue had just enough time to shout a warning when the doors exploded open. Charging from another room came a strange creature. The thing was cat-like and big as a wolf, but as it swung into the room, its face suddenly began to peel back, revealing a horrific mask of muscle and skull. It gave a terrible screech and a wave of fear and panic swept across the room, but the four resisted the abrupt urge to run and stood their ground.

Robot fought robot as Case Nine battled with the copper warforged. The thing was incredibly tough and battered at Case Nine, plunging the sword through his armor and doing great damage. But Case Nine was not to be outdone and rained down savage blow after savage blow on the already damaged Lud-Man. With a crushing final blow, Case Nine smashed the enemy robot and sent it crashing from its chair, its arms and what-remained of its legs suddenly jerking randomly as the systems of the warforged failed.

In the meanwhile, the cat-thing leapt toward Dirk, but the rogue rolled back and brought up his pistol and took a shot. In addition, both Mere and Meepo leveled their own rifles at the beast and the room was filled with thunder. The strange creature, caught in the crossfire, screamed in pain as it was riddled with bullets and collapsed to ground in a bloody heap. Dirk finished it off with a shot to the head, the thing's weird face writhing and spasming even after death.

The battle over, they stood in the sudden silence and listened for sign that the skirmish had aroused the defenses of the gang. For a moment, there was nothing. Then, whisper quiet, they heard something. 

A moan and a gasping, "Oh god. Help me."

*NEXT UPDATE*: Sniper attacks! Dancing goblins! Mutant sorcerers!


*Notes:*

1 Moradin's Best is a popular brand of beer in the city of Asheril. Named for the chief god of the mythic dwarves.
2 All kenku can mimic voices and accents with great ease. The game mechanics and a picture of the kenku can be found here.
3 In the Protectorate, the prevailing view is that humanity is the rightful heir to the Continent and the world. Other races are considered second-class citizens at best. Below the non-humans are the mutants, who deviate from the state ideal and dilute the purity of humanity. Obvious mutants are usually eliminated at birth. However, some mutations only become evident later and the populace is routinely subjected to surveillance and purges.
4 Although the University is often identified and thought of as a single entity, it is actually a loose confederation of various independent schools, laboratories, libraries, corporate interests, and temples.
5 The Haagenti Munitions S-Type Dragon Rifle is specifically designed for smaller humanoid creatures, usually goblins. It follows the same rules as a normal Dragon rifle, except the damage is 2d6. It also uses a different caliber of ammunition than normal-sized Dragon rifles. In the campaign, Meepo's rifle is commonly referred to as the "Lil' Bastard".
6 Stirges have been hunted almost to extinction in the city of Asheril by the alien creatures known as "eyeballs". An illustration can be found here. The eyeball is the small creature in the lower right corner. Believed to be distantly related to the dread beholders, the first eyeballs appeared in the city only twenty years ago and have quickly become its dominate small predator. They are thought to have stowed away on one the trading starships that still infrequently visit Asheril and unintentionally released upon landing. Periodic attempts by the city to eradicate the eyeballs have been unsuccessful.
7 A life saving use of the "Wrong Lever, Kronk" Swashbuckling Card.


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## Pell-Mell (Mar 24, 2008)

I wanted to give a belated thanks to all the kind words above. It is greatly encouraging to know someone is reading and enjoying the storyhour. As always, comments and questions are welcome.

*nwjavahead:* I thought about doing a Rogue's Gallery of the characters, but to be honest I did not capture the PCs at each level and I am lagging behind the actual game somewhat. The game is currently on hiatus and we completed three case files before calling a halt. By the end of the last case file, both Case Nine and Dirk were 7th level and Mere and Meepo were 6th. Maybe when I get to that point in the storyhour, I will post their stats.


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