I just kinda have Loan-a-Mook as one of the services of VIPER, if the villain in question doesn't have ties to organized crime to get them any other way.
I figure VIPER is always recruiting and always have people on their fringes trying to get hired on. Loan-a-Mook for the mooks is basically "you do this one thing for us and do it well, then we'll think about putting you on the payroll".
So VIPER gets a cut of the action from the villain and/or perhaps a favor in return and "tries out" mooks at no particular risk to themselves.
I just kinda have Loan-a-Mook as one of the services of VIPER, if the villain in question doesn't have ties to organized crime to get them any other way.
I figure VIPER is always recruiting and always have people on their fringes trying to get hired on. Loan-a-Mook for the mooks is basically "you do this one thing for us and do it well, then we'll think about putting you on the payroll".
So VIPER gets a cut of the action from the villain and/or perhaps a favor in return and "tries out" mooks at no particular risk to themselves.
You let that kill the campaign? Wow, you really stick to your guns. I would have either retconned the whole thing, “It was an evil hallucination, it never happened!” Or figured a way to bring him back, either as a friendly ghost (Casper!) or maybe as a guide sent from a higher plane of existence to help the players.
Anything to keep the game going.
I've had a couple of characters over the years who've built their own very minimal lairs.
Usually it's something with the area of a small house but divided into several different physical locations so if one gets burned then he doesn't lose the secrecy of everything or lose all his stuff. (Yeah, I know you can't lose it permanently if you paid points for it but it becomes unavailable for immediate use.)
Fold down bed, microwave, fridge, chair, TV, computer/laptops, bookshelf, closet, and bathroom covers the conveniences. Depending on the character, some sort of lab usually like electronics or computer because I tend to play high tech characters more than mystics.
It gives him a place to bring a captive, an ally, or someone he's protecting then catch his breath.
It's more that I like the idea of it than it's strictly useful. A good GM ought to take care of the pacing of the adventure and allow reasonable downtime. But I like having the control of having my own place if I want to use it.
If I'm doing "the whole team meets here on a regular basis", I expect the whole team to kick in points to pay for the thing and have something more elaborate than a series of almost claustrophobic boltholes.
For example, since I'm not doing either a real kitchen or a real bedroom, I could take that 1700 and divide it into five places not much smaller than a tiny apartment.
I'm not living at any of the places full time and just using it on occasion in my Secret ID so the small size shouldn't drive me batty.
Sorry, I don't have any of them written up anymore. What I had were mostly just proof-of-concept sketches anyway. I don't remember any of them being invaded and becoming the scene of a big fight or anything.
For sizes, the complexity is it's done in a raw total volume sense. What I do is take the volume and assume 3 meters as a standard height. That gives me the floor space...volume/3. So a Size 0 has 40 sq m. Next...since we see floor space in square feet...1 square meter is about 10 square feet. Close enough and simple. That floor space can be split however you like.
So: size (floor space estimate in square feet), some idea of scale
0 (400) -- tiny apartment...as in, probably doesn't have a real kitchen.
1 (1200) -- good size 2 or 3 bedroom apartment, maybe a smaller condo
2 (1700) -- tract 2 or 3 bedroom house (my house is this size). Deluxe apartment.
3 (3300) -- good sized 2 bedroom house, 3-4 bedrooms, multiple other rooms. Probably a good baseline penthouse apartment.
4 (6600) -- getting into mansion range. Also fairly large retail space.
Here's a reference for the next few:
https://ilsr.org/how-big-are-bigbox-stores/
5 (13000+)
6 (25000+)
7 (50000+) note: the Willis (used to be Sears) Tower in Chicago is 108 floors, listed at 4.5 million square feet. So each floor is roughly 40,000 square feet...so around this size.
So a Walmart Super Center is size 9; The overall Willis Tower is about a 22.
When I think of a cave, like the Batcave...most of it is empty air. How high does the equipment have to go, in the middle area? Stuff built into the walls? That's part of the overall floor space. Use normal heights. That 6 meter tall fusion reactor? You have to count that in the height. Yeah, it means a lot of the "base" would be wasted, but it's not like size costs you anything significant.
Oh, and just for grins...the Death Star. 90 mile diameter...45 mile radius, so, 70 km. Ergo, volume of 343,000 BILLION cubic meters. 1 million m^3 is size 13; this would be size 41. Of course, that doesn't mean you can actually *build* it, but that's a separate issue....
Well, I don't know why I came here tonight
I got the feeling that something ain't right
I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair
And I'm wondering how I'll get down the stairs
Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right
Here I am, stuck in the middle with Groo....
President Putin is sitting in his office when his telephone rings.
"Hello, Mr. Putin!" a heavily accented voice said. "This is Paddy down at the Harp Pub in County Cork, Ireland. I am ringing to inform you that we are officially declaring war on you!"
"Well, Paddy," Putin replied, "This is indeed important news! How big is your army?"
"Right now," says Paddy, after a moment's calculation, "there is meself, me cousin Seán, me next door neighbour Seamus, and the entire darts team from the pub. That makes eight!"
Putin paused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 1,000,000 men in my army waiting to move on my command."
"Begoora!" says Paddy. "I'll have to ring you back."
Sure enough, the next day, Paddy calls again. "Mr. Putin, the war is still on. We have managed to get us some infantry equipment!"
"And what equipment would that be Paddy?" Putin asks.
"Well, we have two combines, a bulldozer, and Murphy's farm tractor."
Putin sighs amused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 60,000 tanks and 50,000 armored personnel carriers. Also, I have increased my army to 1,500,000 since we last spoke."
"Saints preserve us!" says Paddy. "I'll have to get back to you."
Sure enough, Paddy rings again the next day. "Mr. Putin, the war is still on! We have managed to get ourselves airborne! We have modified Jackie McLaughlin's ultra-light with a couple of shotguns in the cockpit, and four boys from the Shamrock Bar have joined us as well!"
Putin was silent for a minute and then cleared his throat. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 1000 bombers and 2000 fighter planes. My military bases are surrounded by laser-guided, surface-to-air missile sites. And since we last spoke, I have increased my army to 2,000,000!"
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" says Paddy, "I will have to ring you back."
Sure enough, Paddy calls again the next day. "Good mornin', Mr. Putin! I am sorry to inform you that we have had to call off the war."
"Really? I am sorry to hear that," says Putin. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
"Well," says Paddy, "we had a long chat over a few pints of Guinness, and we decided there is no way we can feed 2,000,000 prisoners."
Well, I don't know why I came here tonight
I got the feeling that something ain't right
I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair
And I'm wondering how I'll get down the stairs
Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right
Here I am, stuck in the middle with Groo....
President Putin is sitting in his office when his telephone rings.
"Hello, Mr. Putin!" a heavily accented voice said. "This is Paddy down at the Harp Pub in County Cork, Ireland. I am ringing to inform you that we are officially declaring war on you!"
"Well, Paddy," Putin replied, "This is indeed important news! How big is your army?"
"Right now," says Paddy, after a moment's calculation, "there is meself, me cousin Seán, me next door neighbour Seamus, and the entire darts team from the pub. That makes eight!"
Putin paused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 1,000,000 men in my army waiting to move on my command."
"Begoora!" says Paddy. "I'll have to ring you back."
Sure enough, the next day, Paddy calls again. "Mr. Putin, the war is still on. We have managed to get us some infantry equipment!"
"And what equipment would that be Paddy?" Putin asks.
"Well, we have two combines, a bulldozer, and Murphy's farm tractor."
Putin sighs amused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 60,000 tanks and 50,000 armored personnel carriers. Also, I have increased my army to 1,500,000 since we last spoke."
"Saints preserve us!" says Paddy. "I'll have to get back to you."
Sure enough, Paddy rings again the next day. "Mr. Putin, the war is still on! We have managed to get ourselves airborne! We have modified Jackie McLaughlin's ultra-light with a couple of shotguns in the cockpit, and four boys from the Shamrock Bar have joined us as well!"
Putin was silent for a minute and then cleared his throat. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 1000 bombers and 2000 fighter planes. My military bases are surrounded by laser-guided, surface-to-air missile sites. And since we last spoke, I have increased my army to 2,000,000!"
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" says Paddy, "I will have to ring you back."
Sure enough, Paddy calls again the next day. "Good mornin', Mr. Putin! I am sorry to inform you that we have had to call off the war."
"Really? I am sorry to hear that," says Putin. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
"Well," says Paddy, "we had a long chat over a few pints of Guinness, and we decided there is no way we can feed 2,000,000 prisoners."
President Putin is sitting in his office when his telephone rings.
"Hello, Mr. Putin!" a heavily accented voice said. "This is Paddy down at the Harp Pub in County Cork, Ireland. I am ringing to inform you that we are officially declaring war on you!"
"Well, Paddy," Putin replied, "This is indeed important news! How big is your army?"
"Right now," says Paddy, after a moment's calculation, "there is meself, me cousin Seán, me next door neighbour Seamus, and the entire darts team from the pub. That makes eight!"
Putin paused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 1,000,000 men in my army waiting to move on my command."
"Begoora!" says Paddy. "I'll have to ring you back."
Sure enough, the next day, Paddy calls again. "Mr. Putin, the war is still on. We have managed to get us some infantry equipment!"
"And what equipment would that be Paddy?" Putin asks.
"Well, we have two combines, a bulldozer, and Murphy's farm tractor."
Putin sighs amused. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 60,000 tanks and 50,000 armored personnel carriers. Also, I have increased my army to 1,500,000 since we last spoke."
"Saints preserve us!" says Paddy. "I'll have to get back to you."
Sure enough, Paddy rings again the next day. "Mr. Putin, the war is still on! We have managed to get ourselves airborne! We have modified Jackie McLaughlin's ultra-light with a couple of shotguns in the cockpit, and four boys from the Shamrock Bar have joined us as well!"
Putin was silent for a minute and then cleared his throat. "I must tell you, Paddy, that I have 1000 bombers and 2000 fighter planes. My military bases are surrounded by laser-guided, surface-to-air missile sites. And since we last spoke, I have increased my army to 2,000,000!"
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" says Paddy, "I will have to ring you back."
Sure enough, Paddy calls again the next day. "Good mornin', Mr. Putin! I am sorry to inform you that we have had to call off the war."
"Really? I am sorry to hear that," says Putin. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
"Well," says Paddy, "we had a long chat over a few pints of Guinness, and we decided there is no way we can feed 2,000,000 prisoners."
Corn is subsidized because Iowa is a Presidential Primary state. And because the voting blocks and lobbying groups the Midwest states represent make sure that’s the way the Govt. spending goes.
Robert Heinlein said “Anytime you ask “why is something like that” the answer is always...money.”
If there's one hallmark of the Trump presidency, to me it's this: Donald Trump expects you to fall on your sword for him when he asks, but he won't lift a finger for you when you need it.
(He's not alone in this among elected persons, of course.)
To me the hallmark of Donald Trump is his view of everything: If it's good for Donald Trump, it's good. If it's bad for Donald Trump, it's bad. He couldn't care less what mess he leaves behind after it no longer affects him, and values, principles, and laws don't even rate consideration, other than as something he could personally suffer for violating.
Another oddity regarding current events in Kintargo - there were a number of mercenaries in town when Thrune took over. But instead of hiring them, which is kind of what mercenaries are for, they’re all being held prisoner at Kintargo’s salt works. Finding out why is probably worthwhile, and hey, maybe they’ll give us a discount rate if we rescue them. It’s possible that the leader of the mercs, one Forvian Crowe, has a personal animosity towards Thrune (and hey, who could blame him) but Laria thinks they could make good recruits to the rebellion regardless of their personal opinions about the Dogf***er.
The Sallix Salt Works are built on the shoreline underneath the eastern wall of Kintargo, near the now mostly irrelevant Salt Gate in the aforementioned wall. Brine is shipped in, and boiled dry on the premises.
Terzo: That seems wildly inefficient. The fuel requirements alone are ridiculous. Civilla: That's why they use slave labour. Like the mercenaries we’re rescuing.
The market adjacent to the salt works is mostly dedicated to building supplies and related products, but Civilla and Ayva do have a good reason to be hanging around, which is convenient - maybe we can arrange a good deal on rebuilding the Livery prior to filling the basement with armed mercenaries.
Civilla casts Ears of the City on Terzo, in order to divine details about the salt works and the prisoners. Terzo isn’t entirely happy about gathering information with magic.
Terzo: The problem with doing it this way is that I don’t get to go around a dozen different pubs and ask a few innocent questions between drinks. Civilla: You think that’s a problem, do you? I think it’s a bonus.
Although using Ears of the City DOES ensure that nobody notices, for example, an increasingly drunk Terzo going from bar to bar asking questions.
Ayva: Or an increasingly annoyed party member with a wheelbarrow taking Terzo from bar to bar.
Apparently the previous owner of the salt works was arrested for tax evasion, and killed when he resisted. Barzillai has now seized the premises as a money-earner for the government.
Civilla: Well, at least Barzillai is honest about the nationalisation process. Terzo: How so? Civilla: For ‘nationalised’ read ‘stole’.
We also learn, via the spell, that Crowe and his soldiers are being worked to death because of their faith in Sarenrae, the goddess of healing. That’s the kind of thing that can get you in huge trouble should any Asmodeans find out, and that’s exactly what happened.
Civilla gets quite thoughtful about the Salt Gate - they haven’t been closed in years, since the internal mechanism has rusted stiff, but that suggests a few ideas to Civilla.
Civilla: A plaaaaaan is forming in my miiiind.
Civilla wants Terzo to Grease the gate mechanism when we leave, so we can stop pursuit. Doing anything more permanent would probably annoy Thrune and provoke another Proclamation.
Terzo OoC: So basically we need a bucket of WD-40.
Civilla: In case we are chased. Rajira: *snickers* Civilla: Grease doesn’t last very long either. Rajira: *snickers louder* Civilla: CHASED, not CHASTE. CHASED as in PURSUED.
Civilla also has to keep her footmen loyal - otherwise they’ll eventually figure out she’s up to something and might inform on her. Telling them to wait with the carriage outside the salt works and suddenly running up with a troop of mercenaries and expecting them all to fit in like it was some kind of clown car would be a bit suspicious. Instead we sneak up to the door of the salt works late at night, get the door open, and knock Thrune’s blackshirts out with Lullaby and Sleep spells.
Civilla: See? I’m perfectly good at Stealth, as long as everybody is asleep.
We silently tie the unconscious guards up, release the prisoners, and tiptoe out again without the rest of the guards in the building hearing a thing.
Civilla: And give a short prayer to Noctiluca. Terzo: … isn’t that the demon goddess of darkness and lust? Civilla: … I can see we’re going to have to have a conversation later.
Rajira: And nobody even saw us. Terzo: All that effort into disguises, hoods and Oaths of Anonymity wasted. Civilla: Not wasted, reserved for future endeavours.
GM: … well then. Civilla OoC: That’s this party’s warcry - ‘Sorry, Not Sorry’
Civilla: I mean, it won’t be hard for the authorities to figure out what happened - all the guards fall asleep at once and wake up bound. Unless they leap to some wrong conclusions. I can picture the Inquisitor asking “So WHY were you enjoying a BDSM orgy?” Rajira OoC: ‘And why were you letting the prisoners top you?’
It WILL make an amusing rumour to spread once we get the underground press running. Something to keep in mind for the future.
That rescue cost us one first-level spell and a cantrip. We might have time for another mission this evening, after leading Crowe and his men to the Livery basement, before the curfew even comes down. Going via the Tiefling ghetto is also convenient, given how many friends we have there after dealing with the tooth fairy problem - that makes the residents less likely to comment on the large group of half naked prisoners sneaking through the alleyways. But instead of another mission tonight, we decide instead to make sure the mercs have food, clothes, and bedding.
Civilla: It shows that we consider them important enough to put off other important tasks.
Civilla: Liria told us about your predicament. Crowe: Ah, so that’s why you came to our aid. Ayva: She bribed us with scones. Crowe: Damn, we owe that curvy little vixen our lives.
At least we temporarily disrupted the salt works, but it won’t take long to replace the unfortunate workers.
Terzo: Probably with Tieflings GM: To be honest, right now, it’s going to be those thugs.
Permanently disrupting the salt works is also a goal for the future.
Civilla: Any way to reduce Thrune’s ability to punish the populace.
And, of course, effortlessly ghosting our way in and out of the salt works will increase our Notoriety, and rescuing the Black Feather Mercenaries will make us more friends among Kintargo’s population.
But we still need to investigate the ruins of Raxus’ family home, the Thrashing Badger pub, and the Silver Star music shop, for any clues the Dogf***er’s arsonists may have left intact. There isn’t much left at the latter, and not being able to see in the dark doesn’t help. On the other hand, accidentally falling through a hidden trapdoor is quite helpful, at least in that it unearths some useful potions and scrolls.
On the other hand, having our carriage pulled over by one of the Kintargo guardsmen, especially since he’s backed up by three of Thrune’s blackshirts.
Civilla: How can we be of assistance to you fine civic-minded individuals? Thug: I’m sure you good folk are unaware, since it only happened ten minutes ago, but this road is now a tollway. The toll is a mere five gold. Per passenger. Civilla: Five gold? How interesting. I assume you have your Writ? Terzo: And a receipt book? Civilla: That too. Thug: I have my Writ right here *hefts mace* Terzo: *casts Lullaby* Go to sleep, little A**hole, do not cry.
All three drop to Civilla’s Sleep spell, and she orders her drivers to move the carriage on.
Civilla: We do not want to cut their throats in front of my drivers. Ayva: So we’ll leave them there to be inevitably pickpocketed? Civilla: Or killed by any number of Kintargo’s other residents.
Unfortunately most of the Thrashing Badger washed out to sea when the boardwalk burnt through, and it wasn’t Terzo’s local drinking hole.
Ayva: Terzo has been kicked out of most of the pubs in Kintargo. Terzo: Rolled out of, possibly.
The Badger used to be the rowdiest alcohol dispensary in the city, but any of its regulars have moved on to other establishments. It seems likely one of the more notable regulars, the fairy dragon Vendalfek, will have moved to one of them too. Perhaps Clenchjaw’s, although the name does not inspire images of fun and harmless hooliganism.
Although given the fact that we walk in on a mass bar fight, that pauses only long to look at us come in, it might be a more enthusiastic clientele than the name suggests.
Terzo: Don’t mind us, carry on as you were.
Terzo: Well, at least if they're all so busy with their fistfight, they’re less likely to remember what we look like. Civilla: I fear they’re going to remember us anyway. Two of us anyway. Rajira: I’m wearing my hood over my head. But I am over 6ft and attractive. Civilla: That’s what I meant. But Terzo is going to attract attention anyway, as they see him accompanied by the three of us and try to figure out ‘How?!’
Ayva: So we set up at the bar, wait for information to come to us, and maim anybody that assumes we’re call girls.
We claim a table that doesn’t leave our backs to the door, and order refreshments.
Terzo: A bottle of your most enjoyable wine, dear. Barmaid: We’ve got wine, water, watered wine, or if you want something spicy, wined water.
Ayva just gets a small beer, and Rajira some hard mead.
Civilla: It’s not like we can get mint liqueur anymore.
Unfortunately Ayva also complains about not being able to get night tea, and we get told off by a neighbouring sailor.
Old Salt: Word to the wise - I know you’re new here but one of the house rules is No Politics. *to Terzo* And you, you - how’d you’d end up in the company of three buxom lasses like these? Care to share the love? Terzo: It’s my irresistible charm, dear man - I can’t beat them off with a stick. Civilla: Buxom? Buxom? Ayva: I don’t recall being buxom. Rajira: *puts an arm around Ayva* Don’t worry, you’re buxom enough for me.
GM: You settle down to enjoy your drinks. Make a Perception check. Ayva OoC: Ah, it’s one of those bars where adventures happen. Terzo OoC: Well we already have a hooded stranger, but they’re a member of the party. Terzo: *fails the check miserably* This is a very enjoyable wine.
Rajira’s resistance to poison probably means she could have drunk anything behind the bar, but she's not going to get the chance. Ayva spots the lizard with butterfly wings in the rafters, laughing at the barfight. This is presumably Vendalfek. When he realises he’s been spotted, he goes invisible. Ayva Messages the fairy dragon.
Ayva: Vendalfek We Know You’re There Civilla: FFS can you be more ominous? At least indicate we’re friendly first.
The doors of the pub swing open all by themselves.
Rajira: And there goes our informant. Terzo: What was he doing in the rafters? Ayva: Everybody enjoys a good bar fight. Terzo: He probably started it.
Ayva tries a more diplomatic Message, and the dragon pokes its head back in and indicates we should follow.
Civilla: It’s nearly curfew - we should head home. Come along Terzo. Terzo: But I’m still enjoying this wine! Civilla:
. Terzo: Can I get this in a doggy bag? Ayva: Damn. First good mead I’ve had in years. Civilla: We’re far too far south for good mead.
Vendalfek
Vendalfek: What do you humans want, anyway? I’ve only just found a new bar to live in after your lot burned the last one down. Rajira: Not ‘my’ humans. Civilla: *Diplomatically remains silent, specifically about her own ancestry*
We do determine why Thrune’s agents burned the place to the ground - it probably has something to do with the Roses Vendalfek kept overhearing about.
Vendalfek: Did I live in a bar that was a secret meeting place for a society of florists?
More like Milani’s Rose of Kintargo, a rebellious cult. They were arrested by Thrune’s personal enforcers, one of whom has an ominous magic sword.
Rajira OoC: Oh great, we have an Edgelord.
Civilla: These Roses they took - fun people? Vendalfek: Oh yes. Civilla: And the Dottari - not fun? Vendalfek: Definitely not. Civilla: So, what do you think about playing a few pranks on the dotteri?
Vendalfek is agreeable, and the rebellion has a new ally. Just as well, since Vendalfek also overheard that they were planning to Doghouse one of the Roses.
Terzo: Oh dear. Vendalfek: I’d like a doghouse - cosy. Civilla: Doghousing involves feeding a prisoner to one of Thrune’s feral mastiffs. And they starve the dog first.
Terzo: Out of curiosity, Mr Dragon - why was the barman unconscious in the corner in there? Civilla: He was no fun. Vendalfek: Such a stickler for the rules.
And then there is more quiet recruiting of partisans, and smuggling funds into the Rebellion’s pockets. And dealing with the fact that the Dottari are taking an alarming interest in Liria’s coffeehouse...
Liria: *communicates by frantic eyebrow-waggling* *DISTRACT THEM!* Civilla: Um, ah, what? *grabs Rajira and kisses her* Rajira: *briefly startled then grabs Civilla and kisses back* Civilla: Eep. Terzo: *looks briefly surprised and annoyed, and mutters something about ‘alright for some’ before returning his attention to his drink*
Of course the fact that Rajira might LOOK human, but doesn’t TASTE human, and has fangs and forked tongue, might be even more distracting, if Civilla hadn’t already figured out what Rajira actually was. It distracts the male Dottari though, until their female superior officer slaps them upside the head.
Rajira: Thankyou, m’dear, but I believe it’s my set. *casts Fascinate, which fails* GM: I’m sorry, but the slap worked and they’re concentrating on their job again.
Instead we order a pot of coffee, which will give Liria an excuse to go into the pantry and move a few sacks over the hidden door in the floor.
Civilla: Wait, no, it’s tea that Thrune has a problem with, isn’t it. Terzo: We can always ask these nice Dottari if coffee and tea are the same thing. Civilla: Better not - we don’t want to give the authorities an opportunity to decide they are.
Apparently somebody sent the Dottari an anonymous letter alleging unsavoury practises at the coffeehouse.
Liria: The only unsavoury things here are the muffins. Civilla: Unsavoury practises? I’ve kept my clothes on this time. Rajira: We’ll see if that lasts the night.
Civilla manages to convince them that somebody is wasting their time, barely - sometimes you roll low but the bad guys still roll lower. The Dottari leave.
Terzo: I trust Liria offered them a complimentary muffin.
Rajira grabs Civilla and drags her over to the bar.
Rajira: Something strong - 120 proof at least. Swill this around in your mouth before you swallow. My saliva can be toxic and I’d rather you didn’t become ill. Civilla: I’d rather not. Rajira: … OK. Civilla: I mean I’d rather not smell like I’ve been swilling the kind of alcohol I usually use for cleaning purposes.
GM: Oh god, somebody gave Vendalfek coffee. Civilla: actually we shouldn’t shut down the Salt Works - that way if anybody else gets imprisoned there we can rescue them, too. Rajira: And some of the prisoners they send there have actually been arrested for good reasons. There’s always actual criminals around. Civilla: True, but Thrune is employing those.
Civilla decides to take the air, with her compatriots and supposed paramour, to scout out the ruins of Rexus’ family home that we have to investigate. After all, since Terzo is her tutor and Ayva is her business partner, we actually have a good reason to be strolling around the expensive part of town. Rexus doubts we’ll find anything, but Civilla thinks it will still be worth a look. It’s certainly suspicious that the ruins of the Victocora estate are under permanent armed guard, even this many weeks after the fire. Perhaps we can stay at Civilla’s family home, so we can come back after dark without having to sneak back into the Kintargo equivalent of a Gated Community?
Civilla: Eh, it would attract attention to them and they’d ask questions. Trust me, they’d ask questions, it’s what Alazarios do. It’s one reason we’re not very popular with House Thrune.
We decide to wait until after curfew, and sneak along the alley between the city walls and the noble estates, and climb over the estate wall into the ruins. Which is a good plan, if we didn’t run into a Dottari guard patrolling the other way.
Rajira: *drunkenly slurs* Hey there, handsome. GM: Roll to Seduce.
Dottari: What are you DOING here, woman, it’s almost after curfew! Come with me! Rajira: Oh, I’m sure we can find something much more fun to do… GM: You were unlucky enough to get the nice guard, and he’s actually insisting on escorting you back to your home. Rajira: S***.
Rajira: *signals the rest of the party* Should I take him out? Civilla: *summons a monster frog out of the ground* Dottari: What the Hells is that! GET BEHIND ME! Rajira: *clonks him on the head* Civilla: Can somebody cut him in half? Rajira: … not without getting blood all over my clothes, no. Ayva: … Why? Civilla: My frog can’t eat something that large. Unless we fold him double, maybe.
Terzo is rather perturbed by the murder, and reminds so during the wall-clambering and ruins search. It’s Ayva that finds the remains of a recent preparatory ritual next to the ornamental lake on the property. Apparently a witch did something here, more recently than the fire. Civilla cautiously wades into the lake and promptly vanishes with a splash, into a lake that’s supposed to be thigh deep at best. It’s now way more than 60 feet deep, and there’s something glowing blue in the depths.
Terzo OoC: So the Victocoras had a secret nuclear reactor in their pond.
Civilla: Just as well I can summon Celestial Dolphins.
Civilla and Rajira descend, and are soon spotted by somebody else swimming down here, who hurriedly swims into a side tunnel. Unfortunately there’s also a grate, which Civilla can Dimensional Slide through at least, in a search for some kind of opening mechanism. The tunnel on this slide slopes upwards.
Civilla: I’ll return to the others and get high. All: LOL.
Sending Rajira back to the surface when they do may have been a mistake, since some kind of magical pulse boils up the shaft and engulfs Rajira while she’s on her way up. She’s turned to stone, which doesn’t make things any easier for the dolphin.
Terzo OoC: Do I need to throw some waterwings in there?
Still, Terzo and Ayva are rather alarmed by the petrification, at least until Ayva determines it will only be temporary - apparently that was a wild magic surge. So all we know is that somebody, probably a witch, was messing around at the bottom of an unexpectedly deep lake, and we have no idea who or why. Civilla has followed the zig-zagging tunnel to another grate, with a room on the other side.
GM: This is clearly a Spellcasters Only route. Civilla OoC: And this is me. *casts Dimensional Slide again*. Was this really supposed to stop low level characters? One Halfling wizard with Reduce Person would go right through it. GM: …. Excuse me a moment while I consult the next book of the campaign.
She’s apparently somewhere underneath the Hall of Records. She casts Pass Without Trace and Disguise Self to reduce the chance the Dottari wandering about don’t find her. Disguising herself as that Dottari officer from last night gets her out of the building without too much attention, and she dispatches one of the Silver Raven devices to let us know she’s heading to the Alazario estate. This is a relief to the rest of us, although Rajira has already seen the disguised Civilla on the road.
Terzo: Well, I must say we’re glad to see you alive - when Rajira came back up turned to stone and wrapped around a dolphin, and no sign of you, we were a bit concerned. Civilla: Turned to stone? What did I miss?
Civilla excuses herself to write some letters to her family, suggesting they buy the Victocora estate and hinting that they should keep the lake as is but not investigate too closely.
Civilla: ‘There’s a secret back entrance to the Hall of Records? That’ll be useful when it reopens’
Civilla: There are currently two cults of Noctiluca - the ones who are wrong and the ones that are right. Ayva OoC: I can see her followers inquiring about what happened, and when they find out, go ‘wait, she did WHAT to WHO and then WHAT????’.
GM: I just looked up what Night Tea actually is, and it’s nothing about ‘disturbing the balance of the slumbering mind’ - it’s a prophylactic.
Civilla gets a delivery while she’s writing at Laria’s coffeehouse - less a package than a bouquet. Of very beautiful roses, with a slip of paper concealed down among the stems.
Rajira: And there was me thinking I had a rival for your affections.
Perhaps predictably, it’s from the Rose of Kintargo, the Milani cult that is also planning a rebellion against Barzillai Thrune. They warn us not to act rashly, and promise to contact us soon. We recruit a team of street performers, who we call Nobody’s Fools, and put the finishing touches on the former Livery. In fact we’re just getting ready to open up when a small child runs in screaming for help.
Rajira: What’s wrong with the spawnling? Tiefling Kid: She’s been taken! Civilla: Who? Tiefling Kid: Zea! The bad people! They said they're going to put her in a doghouse!
If we’re quick we might be able to intercept them before they reach Aria Park - it’s fortunate that the Livery is practically next door to the ghetto. We all pile into the carriage.
Civilla: Come along child - you get to ride in a carriage!
Unfortunately they get to the park first - the pagoda in the middle of the lily pond in Aria Park has been converted into a kennel for any of the dogs the citizens of Kintargo have been handing in for the reward. It’s also Thrune’s thug's choice of destination for anybody they decide has insulted the throne. Civilla gets her disposable cloak ready - if necessary she’ll swap costumes with Zea so the blackshirts chase the wrong person. She’ll also Summon a Celestial Dog, tell it to play Keep Away over to the east of the pond, and use that to distract the thugs. After all, they’ll certainly try and catch it for the reward, and the mortal mastiffs will probably go mental. Then the rest of us can sneak up and overwhelm the other thugs, under the cover of the borking.
Dottari on far side of pond: Hey, there’s a dog! Celestial Dog and Mastiffs: Play? Play! Play! Play! Dottari on our side of the Pond: What the **** is happening over there/ Rajira: *kukris them in the back*
GM: The surviving thugs all need to make Handle Animal checks. Ayva’s player: I’ve had to walk a Saint Bernard before - these thugs might be going for A Walk. GM: Aaaand they all failed their check.
One of the thugs invents water-skiing as his mastiff drags him into the pond, and the rest all chase off after the dogs that are supposedly in their charge. Zea can basically stroll off while they’re busy.
GM: … Good work. I basically doubled the number of NPCs that were supposed to be here, too. Terzo: With only two spells again. Ayva OoC: If we were playing rogues we wouldn’t even have needed that. Rajira OoC: If we were all playing rogues we’d have Stealth Synergy and have ghosted through the entire scenario. I rolled a 1 and they STILL didn’t see me.
Ayva: And we’re home in time for curfew. Rajira: At this rate the Dottari are going to start talking about The Ghosts.
Although trying to squeeze Zea and the kid into the carriage with the rest of us is a bit tricky - fortunately the rest of us are a lot skinnier than Terzo.
Civilla: In this group are one and a half humans.
Zea is suitably grateful for the rescue, and doesn’t know why she was targeted - it may have been a random sweep. Civilla casts Ears of the City to find out. It looks like the Asmodeans came after Zea because she’s trying to hold the ghetto together now their actual leader has gone missing. And Thrune’s troops are making concerted efforts to solve the Tiefling Problem for good.
Rajira: The Asmodeans boink devils like it’s going out of style, then try to eliminate the results. Civilla: Welcome to Cheliax - they’re wonderfully hypocritical. Rajira: So the next sweep team that goes into the ghetto doesn’t come back. Civilla: I’d rather they come back - but without pants.
It doesn’t appear that Thrune actually ordered this - he doesn’t seem to care either way. The blackshirts are acting on their own initiative.
Civilla: Oh, it’s blackshirts doing the sweeps? In that case we go with Rajira’s suggestion - any sweep teams that come in, don’t come out. Terzo: *hopefully* So we’re going to be keeping them tied up in a basement somewhere? Rajira: No, we’re going to cut their throats and dump the bodies in a cesspit. Terzo: …. oh.
Civilla: Perfect! We render them down as soaps and fertilizers for the rich. Terzo: I’m going to assume you’re joking. Rajira: No. Civilla: Have you ever heard me joke about anything alchemical? Ayva: You should hear the one about the alembic.
Civilla: I don’t think Terzo has quite figured out the situation he’s in. He’s definitely the softest of us. Ayva: Every ‘smore needs a marshmallow.
Thrune: They might just be Tieflings, but taking a prominent member of their community was going to anger them. At least they left my dogs alone.
There is one possible problem looming - a Tiefling gang, the Red Jills, who would happily escalate the violence beyond any sane limit. So we have to persuade them to limit their mayhem to a level that won’t invite reprisals from Thrune.
Terzo: Oh, I know where they hang out. Ayva: Terzo knows everyone. Sorry, every pub.
Their current lair is an old temple of Aroden, an immortal human who was the focus of a whole bunch of prophecies, but who then died mysteriously and threw all those prophecies out the window. His temples have closed up shop. So now the building is occupied by the Red Jills, who hate humans, and their leader a winged Strix, one Scarplume, who hates humans even more.
Civilla: Anybody have any ideas how we can use this? It’s sounding suspiciously like we’re walking into a fair fight. I’d rather not fight at all, obviously, but this is sounding more and more like a fair one, and that I do not like.
Civilla: I don’t think these are our kind of people - do we really want to recruit them? Terzo: Well, the last thing we want is a circular firing squad among the partisans. Rajira: The Revolution is for everyone. Civilla: But these Jills are already attacking the general citizenry - we want them to focus on the actual threat.
Civilla: The Strix have a reputation as baby-snatching monsters. And I can say that because I can speak Strix….. I’m going to have to do all the talking, aren’t I.
At least our smuggling contact has done some work for the Red Jills. The Jills might also be desperate for a new fence, too. And the Strix has something in common with the tengu, too - they have wings, at least. We can organise a meet on Red Jill turf without being instantly murdered.
When I was in my 20's and working in the repair department of car dealerships, most anyone who'd been working a couple of decades in the business had a horror story to tell about someone getting their necktie caught in a fan belt. Usually happened to one of the service advisors writing up the repair order or some customer leaning over his own engine pointing out what he thinks needs repair.
Slightly less common were stories of Things Gone Wrong with people who wear steel toe shoes in the shop so they could avoid minor accidents. Usually those stories involve large car parts crushing the shoe anyway and trapping the poor person's foot inside until the emergency room can figure out how to safely cut the footwear off without the person bleeding out or losing most of his foot.
Stories about people seriously messing up their hand by wearing their wedding ring while working on cars (or painting houses) was a distant third. But I actually saw people whose hands had been visibly mangled from that one.
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