SESSION 257: Siege on the Gangrenous Pt. 13 – Lost in the Dreamlands – Market Mayhem
The B-Team spends a couple of days shopping before looking for information.
Day 185 continued II (Jones Town – Dawn/Dusk Market): The spawn had been defeated. Now transformed to gas the trio floated away with Rammer and Gurn continuing to be under their sway playing blockers or maybe also jumping out the window they were not kind enough to narrate things. Sloth charged hoping to tackle the two but instead slipped on an ethereal turtle and tumbled into the wall, narrowly avoiding a plummet out the window hole. He was however able to grab Ramrod’s ‘better’ leg, throwing him off balance and to the ground. Camillus, even with one hand holding her gushing neck wound, jumped onto Rammer to keep him down. Katre followed her lead. Even under the sway of the vampire spawn, Rammer’s core creepiness arose from the situation…enjoying having the two girls pinning him down. Boris, Willy and Sasha closed in on Gurn. He snarled like he was rabid. Raul had a solution to this mess, casting dispel magic. The enthrallment was broken but Ramrod claimed it was not. Camillus bled on him. He slurped some drool back and exclaimed, “Heheheh Iz gotz my redz wingzzz”. The mighty fighter dropped a knee on his forehead as she moved away – hughh. Rammer was helped to sleep for a little while.
Moments later security along with the proprietor kicked open the door and rushed in shouting stuff. Some talking later Henrietta was apologetic and had assigned the lads to cleanup and ensuring this did not happen again. The team was offered a free day of accommodation. Once things were cleaned up, settled down and Camillus had been bandaged the evening was largely written off. This meant that Wendul and Raul would be without spell replenishment due to the broken rest cycle.
Day 186 (Jones Town – Dawn/Dusk Market): They decided to have breakfast and then leave the casters to rest while the rest of the group explored the Dawn Market.
Crammed with people going between shop, stall and cart selling a host of the mundane and bizarre. They spent most of the day just wandering about and eating. Nobody forgetting their protracted period of insufficient sustenance. However, they did explore a couple of shops.
First it was Herbert’s Pokes & Poke Stops an arms and armour shop specializing in things that are spikey and serrated. The items were conventional and did not attract our aloof shoppers.
Second, and much more time intensive, was Rubelar’s Tonics & Chunks. Wallace it seems was a perveyor of alchemical components (chunks) and elixirs of interest (tonics). He was a wormy fellow with very thick glasses and fingers stained from years of contact with weird bits of stuff. They spent a goodly amount of time rummaging the joint. The beginning of the exodus of coin from their pockets to others. Capitalism is great! A cockatrice gizzard was a nice find as the jar required for proper storage is way smaller than those for a basilisk. They also got a bunch of tonics: No Need Sleep, Swoosh, Venom Get Out & Do Better Things.
They returned to Copper Ginny’s to plot and plan in their room until dinner. The rest of the day melted away but they did notice how a thick fog crawls into the market as soon as the light of day wanes. Biliously rolling in and rising up until all vision beyond the windows was obfuscated. Even the patrons got a little more grim looking and not to say that the fog seemed to crawl in every time the front door was opened. Things were going on in the fog. Perplexing until Raul, the ‘smart’ one, realized that whatever was going on was the Dusk Market. They decided to retire rather than checking it out. During the day the window in their chamber had been boarded up and warded. The evening was restful.
Day 187 (Jones Town – Dawn/Dusk Market): Up for breakfast and back into the market. It was time to get stuff beyond extra-filling for bellies and a handful of elixirs. Still we had to get something on a stick to help with the shopping. Plob-blorps – yum. The little grub-like things were fermented in swamp juice for that little extra zing.
Walking past a hatters there was a narrow alley with a sign pointing into the darkness. ‘The Devil You Say’. What could go wrong? The alley was dark, wet, smelly and thick with sneering imps just at the periphery. A non-descript with a simple plaque marking the shop. No windows to give up its contents. They entered. The shop was stacked to the ceiling with ostensibly mundane items that carried some antiquity. Behind a small table on a tall stool sat an exceptionally large, in all dimensions, red imp. Maybe a small devil, hard to say. “I’m Bliz and I am your shopkeeper. Are we shopping for a curse or looking to play trade?”.
Raul stepped up and explained his situation with the shield of wound invitation.
“What a lovely and powerful curse worthy of a man of distinction”.
“Ah…No no. It is not something that works for me.. I guess I would like a different curse..”. Bliz pulled out a crown, “this treasure is Justine’s Crown of Incompetence. Your intelligence will be reduced to that of a useful idiot. All the kid's these days are down with being commie dum-dums. This would be an excellent exchange. After the transference and processing fee of course”.
“Ah...Yes of course the processing fee…Ah do you have anything else maybe?”
“Your loss friend. Hmm. What about these? The Mittens of Firm Grip? You will never drop anything once held”.
“Ah maybe something else?”
“Well maybe but it would incur a greater transference charge”
“Totally fine. We understand the necessity for balance”
“Ok one more thing and only because it is obvious you are fresh meat.. Finger Bars of Stiffness. But really this is not a fair trade and I strongly suggest you keep your curse instead of acquiring something that just doesn’t meet muster”
“No no no I understand due to circumstances this may be a loss that we have to live with” “Very well. A deal has been struck with the Devil”. I will take that and please slip these on. Yup. Just like that. Very good”, Bliz grabbed the shield and waddled to the wall to hang it on a hook. When he turned around Raul was pulling off the finger bars and putting it in his pouch. The scarab broach around his neck glowed vividly for a moment.
“Bah! Cheaters. What fun are you. Piff! Pay your coin and begone wretched fresh meat. Devoid of class I say. Don’t come back until you are truly purveyors of fine black magicks”. They paid up and left quickly. The joint was really beginning to stink like sulphur. The street imps hissed mightily as they worked their way back through the alley.
They bought a round of spikefruit to celebrate their victory. A little bit later another sign caught an eye or two. Luckily they did not come from one of the one-eyed dwarves, so spares were available. ‘Get your fresh body at the Body Shop’. Boris pulled forth the bag of Versamage bones he had been carrying around since their time in the (other?) 3rd Dimension. What could go wrong was the consensus. If we had ever seen a dry cleaner but had replaced the hanging clothing with assorted empty skin sacks this would be it. The smell of dangerously warm meat filled the cramped customer frontage. A greasy looking person with beady eyes and arms too long to be right sat behind the counter. Didn’t say anything just looked without focusing, little beads of grease leaking down his face from his hair. Boris broke the creepiness, “Hey we got a bag of bones can ya do something for that?”
“Yes sir, we could. But…It is a premium service. We normally exchange your current skin for something different. A whole new you!”.
“Ya ya ya. That’s what we want. Make these bones back into a living hot chick. Like really hot. Something about her just kicks ass”.
Camillus grumbled something derogatory towards the short and hairy. After some time of the greasy Attendant pushing a button and hooks bearing ‘skin suits’ swinging by something was found. Suitable for Lady Versamage Jasmae.
“Ya. That one. Stick her hot bones in there”.
Gurn and Ramrod wholeheartedly agreed. They could tell that the flesh bag was hot, even when empty. A deal was reached. The Attendant accepted payment, provided a receipt for pickup and notified the gang of the two week processing period. They were feeling good and feeling like they had hemorrhaged a lotta coin, time to return to Ginny’s.
A couple of strides out the door the whole joint went into spasm. Alarms and bells began to clang as the whole of Jones Town began to shimmy and sway. “Alert! Alert! We are mobile! We are mobile!”. People began to hunker down. Cover their carts and close their stalls.
It began as a near calamity shaking and twisting then settled into a deep and constant reverberation. It was at this point that the townsfolk seemed to stop worrying and learned how to love the bomb. Back to business. These folk have obviously been aboard the rampaging hex-crab for many such events. Our lot got up and made their way back to the Ginny for dinner and some rest. During dinner they probed deeper into things and how to gain knowledge. They were pointed towards the Great Library. The central hub of the Tomb district. A plan took form.
Day 188 (Jones Town – Dawn/Dusk MarketàThe Tomb): After breakfast they returned to the secret hatch that brought them to the market district. At the bottom of the ladder was Griz,
“Hey guys! Going somewhere?”.
"We certainly are. Can you take us to the library?"
Out pooped that fat little hand, "Anything for coin friends, anything for coin".
Griz was rehired and he once more navigated our gang through the maze that the Gutter is. Twisting and turning.
Creeping, crawling and climbing until they stood before a large stone mausoleum. “Well there it is guys. This is when I sign off right after we get through the gratuity phase of our little agreement”, once more proffering his little clawed hand. Coins were once more dropped and then swallowed. “Have fun. Learn stuff. Try not to get eaten”, Griz sung as he skipped away.
They proceeded through a pair of very substantial stone doors covered in archaic inscriptions.
The B-Team: Boris, Ramrod, Raul, Sloth, Willy, Sasha, Gurn, Wendul, Ike, Katre & Camillus
ROLECALL
Raul the Voyager (MD9) 263068 xp +10% <360000> CRT 1d12/III
Fezzi-Gig (Neut: XXXX) Sword
Serious wound: permanent loss of CHA -4,
Removed one of his own nostrils.
Boris the Dwarven Lord (D9) 364963 xp +10% <400001> CRT 1d20/IV
Serious wound: permanent loss of CHA -3, carved up face
Wound: Bad leg (-5’ MV)
Multiple Injuries: lost 25 teeth (7 remaining), drools a lot CHA -1
Serious Injury: Brain Drain -2 INT
Serious wound: permanent loss of an eye (-1 to missile fire)
Ramrod the Cloned Magsman (T9) 172144 xp +5% <280001> CRT 1d20/II
Serious wound: Bad Back (-1 stone CC)
Scars: Neurological damage to hip, noticeable limp (-5’ mve)
Missing eight teeth talks with a lisp
The Henchmen
Sloth the Bopper (L7) 177435 xp +10% <178800> CRT 1d20/IV or 1d6/G (vs. s, m)
Missing ten teeth
Sasha Plasha the Warden (R7) 123264 xp +10% <200000> CRT 1d10/III
Gurn Hammerhand the Dwarven Swashbuckler (D5) 27952 <36000> +5% CRT 1d12/III
Wendul the Magician (W6) 49700 <80000> 5% CRT 1d8/I
Camillus the Myrmidon (F6) 52881 <64001> +5% CRT 1d20/IV
Willy the Reformed Burglar (T6) 28088 <40000>10% CRT 1d14/II
Agolloch the Eye of Purity (Lawful; XXXX) Sword
Ike the Duck (DF6) – AVATAR form.
Katre Elf-Girl and Swordsman Conjuror (E3) 8141 xp <16000> +0% CRT 1d8/II
RESERVES
BoB, Rhags & Alamender are lawn ornament for the Basilisk Knights.
Chung Li needs 12 weeks (74 days) and a stack of coin to rewrite his lost spell book.
Elapsed: 53 days (from A-Team calendar) -INTERRUPTED-
Elapsed Campaign Time
648a (630b) days at beginning of session (also applies to recuperation)
Join us for session Two-Hundred-and-Fifty-Eight when we ask the questions:
The Tomb sounds like a nice place right?
But really, what will be found beyond these doors?
Will archivist undead eat us?
What will we do when the coin purses run dry?
Tale of the Tape
KILLS
nope
LOOT
nope
No comments:
Post a Comment