Sunday, December 21, 2014

Session 6: Gaining a purpose

We're getting a bit more confident in play by now, so it seems we're moving on towards a character-directed storyline. Should be fun

RIP GEORGE THE MAGICAL HAWK, WHO DIED AS HE LIVED, FLYING AROUND DELIVERING MAGICAL ELECTROCUTIONS

Well, it seems as if our band of gentle murder-hobos has found a calling. Scroll to the bottom for some useful summary

The night started off simple enough, with Kerouac and Suicidelegs carousing about on the town only to find that a bit of drunken bragging led to a back-alley mugging attempt. The would be robbery was dealt with and the gents met up with Guark, who had his own troubles to deal with later if not now as his loutish brother had deeply offended a ranking aristocrat.

Kerouac, still without his spell book, convinced the gents that they should all seek out a tower with some strange (probably magical) lightning emanating from it on the assumption that wizardly things were going on there. After finding the gravity-mangled corpse of renowned thief Dalia Lorenzo at the base of the tower, however, the party chickened out and tiptoed their way back past the lightning fields. On the plus side, they discovered a new neighborhood, Thornhall, which seems to be a wealthy elvish enclave carved out amongst gargantuan petrified trees.

As they made their quick exit, poor Nadir the manservant mistook Guark for his long-lost master Tariq, and though the suspicious murderhobos didn’t quite to accompany Nadir to whatever store of riches his master had left in safekeeping they did convince the manservant to accompany them as a free hireling (oxymoron!)

For some reason they thought seeking out a mysterious woman would be less dangerous than a weird wizard’s tower, and went looking for Cleopatra, that mysterious young lady on the run from her aristocratic parents. Turns out she’d started hanging out in another bar across town, The Ghastly Stone, populated with poets and anarchist types. The group met Wahida, a member of the local citizens' committee in Diggers’ Den who told them there’d be a public meeting later that day, and settled in to wait for Cleo. In no time Suicidelegs not only worked his proletarian charm but also lost all the loot he’d gotten off the bandits betting on the wrong mutant grub caterpillar (smooth). 

Wahida explained (I mean reminded, of course) that the Plutocrat elites and vampires (not a metaphor, it might seem) were running the city into impoverishment, spying on the citizenry and trading on their very memories for pleasure. Diggers’ Den had managed to organize a semi-autonomous zone with a citizens’ committee organizing security, kicking out the memory markets (where the wealthy bought the memories of the poor for pleasure) and some neighborhood services, but they were still unsure about their ability to make further inroads against the plutocracy. They’re also worried that too aggressive of moves now would cause their uneasy detente with the city watch to break down.

The meeting hour came, and some rousing Braveheart shit type speechifying from the gang. With some rough looking types joining the cause, many were pleased by the thought of some extra muscle but most were cautious about the possibility of actually enacting any of the grand revolutionary moves suggested without more force / a stronger plan. 

Cleopatra, however, noted that the reason she’d run away in the first place was that her parents were involved in planning for a new factory powered by human sacrifice. She said that plans were in the Tower HQ of corporation x, and that if stolen there would be opportunities for sabotage and exposing the plan to the public. She would join the group but most of the others in the bar were still too unsure to commit physical support; this would have to be a wildcat mission.

Kerouac wisely sought out the services of the best thief he knew, Miguel the hands, but the thieves’ stronghold was locked and deserted, neighborhood folk and shopkeepers around said they’d not heard from The Hands or his associates in several days, quite peculiar indeed. Suicidelegs & Guark sought out Sgrot’s aid, who transformed them temporarily into sneaky were-rats. Joining back up the party took a quick peek in Miguel’s hideout courtyard, decided against dealing with the dogs, and made for the Tower headquarters.

They thought the best course of action would be sending in Cleo to distract the thuggish private security out front of the building, but perhaps not yet adjusted to their new rat forms stumbled loudly and the jig was up. Cleo was grabbed by one guard while an alarm was shouted and combat ensued. 

A good day for hired thugs or a bad day for our crew, either way this turned out to be a bloody combat, and further attempts at scaling the tower walls were thwarted when backup arrived and more bloodshed. Our would-be-heroes made their retreat for the night, brushed but perhaps a bit wiser from the experience.

Having failed to secure the plans, the company will likely tighten security, and if the attack can be traced back to its conspirators then retaliation should be expected. 

Friends Made:
Nadir the manservant, who really wants to help his master get his stuff back
Cleo the burgeoning thief/anarchist
Wahida, head of citizens’ protection committees in Diggers’ Den

Other Revelations:
Sgrot seems to be able to transform you into were-rats, this may be worth further exploration
Thornhall, with it’s petrified megatree towers, seems to host the city’s fancy snobby elf community.
The secret police use a series of magical viewing eyes embedded in stones throughout the city

There’s something weird going on at Miguel the Hands’ thievy hideout, might warrant investigation

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