Archive for June, 2013

“Starting Off In The Hindmost Quarters” Game Write Up for Gaming Group 3: Session 1

The Diamond Spider Tavern is a rowdy unsavoury public house that is sandwiched in at the end of the street just before the gateway to the theatrical plaza. As the emissary passed by the window he heard rythmic loud chanting and, thinking erroneously that this was some kind of local religious ceremony he entered the holy house. The skinny sallow eyed hirinian dwarf eyed the newcomer and saw – a massive opportunity in the shape of a bizarrely attired idiot. He has a hat shaped like a boat on sideways with tassles and robes that swept to the pissed-stained floor. Clearly he was one of those ‘furriners’ or out of towners. Putting all that aside what he was to the dwarf was a potential grand distraction. How long could you stand in the cut-throat Diamond Spider Tavern looking like that before you got assaulted?

The dwarves question was answered a few moments later when one of the drunken patrons accosted the stranger and demanded to know who the hell he was and why he was dressed like a carpet merchant in a wagon accident. The stranger jiggled his face-mask (face mask!) and waved his hand nonchantly. The height of arrogance. He was about to get belted by the ferret-like patron when the aforementioned slipped on some piss and the stranger sashayed past to a vantage point near the toilets.

Thoughts crammed furiously into the dwarf’s brain like gold pieces into a stuffed purse. He picked through them. All around him a seething mass of baying idiots who were betting on whether or not the over-perfumed, plumed hatted noble could manage another draft of the killer opiate-laced brew the landlord was serving up. There was a lot of money riding on this and the hirinian was keen to relieve the soon to be comatose drinker of what he thought was his purse that he’d shoved clumsily down his massive leather gloves a while earlier. Difficulty was – this was a thieves-guild pub and he was an unlicensed thief. Penalties against unlicensed thieves tended to be, umm, fatal. Still – now he had the massive distraction about to happen in the shape of this feckless idiot in the daft hat.

Sure enough, as the noble started to keel over and all hell broke loose a lot of attention was on the stranger and the seething mob, and less of it – well hopefully none of it was on him “helping” the unconscious stranger for a few moments. He stuffed the whole caboodle – his right glove into his tunic and was slightly alarmed at how massive and heavy it was, but then also excited that it might mean that he had enough money not to go hungry next month. There was only so much begging for jobs at Smithies in the Foul Quarters that he could take. ‘Sakes he even applied for a job at the Tannery and that was taking the piss. Him, a leather-worker!? Unheard of, and so demeaning.

He exited as a fight started to break out and ended up in the alleyway next to the ridiculousy garbed stranger who seemed – vacant. He’d got out at the same time, apparently not so insane as to hang about in the Tavern as skulls were crushed. Also, there was the small matter of the fat noble getting stabbed by someone and the fact he hadn’t paid the landlord’s bar bill for all the lethal cocktails he’d been chugging. What the hirinian needed was somewhere to lie low. Then he realised the walking carpet was trying to talk to him. ‘Sakes he could barely speak the common tongue. In fact, no, he was using the high-language intermixed with common. It was a travesty to language.

In the end he dragged the stranger out of the flickering lamp-light, down the alley and towards the theatre. That’s the kind of place this chap probably would go unnoticed anyway and it was a good place to hide. Difficulty was the idiot was refusing to move staring at the shop just next to the Diamond Spider. It was one of those “Magic Emporium’s”. Now he was ringing the feckin’ bell! The dwarf panicked – this was no way to get out of a bad situation to go ringing shop bells. He fumbled inside the glove and realised that it contained a gauntlet inside – some money, no wait a massive fecking coin with a green sort of gem stone in the middle. He spied it for a minute and realised it was worth a bundle. He couldn’t get the massive coin in his purse so he started to look for somewhere to hide this shit. He was interrupted by the shopkeeper blearily opening his door as the last peal of the bell faded into silence. The noise of a Troll in the street adjacent relieving itself against the wall took its place. The shopkeeper, in his jim-jams holding aloft a lamp, blinked and cried “Emissary!! What on Nehwon are you doing here? Oh no! It can’t be! Sir, Sir you must come up”. They were both bundled in by the man who was jabbering and distraught. The Hirinian couldn’t figure out why he was so beside himself.

Later it all became clear. The Emporium Owner, Abdool, explained that this idiot was a Foreign Ambassador from his homeland and he was able to translate. ‘Sakes it was a long drawn out affair, the man kept on insisting on reading long scrolls and waving his arms. Protocol or something or other. He was starting to think it was all going to go well and they could just rob the shopkeeper and get the hell out of his magic shop when the conversation took a nasty turn. It was the ‘Gluditch’ or the coin they’d taken from the noble in the bar-fight. Abdool was incensed when he saw it. He told the dwarf that this was worth half the kingdom and if the Overlord found out he’d got it then, well, they were curtains. Abdool was even more besides himself – half crazy with fear and insisting that the pair of them get out of his shop and never darken his door again. But, he was a native of the Emissaries homeland and this obligated him to help. So, boggling at the contents of the emporium the dwarf found himself being given a ring to put on and Abdool seemed to threaten him with dark magic if he didn’t. so he did. The fool ‘Hew’ was given a small phial of healing/harming potion. Next they were bundled out of a secret door and made to sneak to the College-Temple of Putrexia.

Abdool explained someone owed him a favour. They could hide in the temple-college and be their new ‘Night Security’ team. Then he could figure a way to get them out of the town and to safety, or get help from the Emissaries Embassy – he wasn’t quite sure how. In return they owed him, Abdool, big time. At one point they couldn’t figure how to get over the main college avenue without being spotted. There was one of McKinley’s Night Hearses on the street and other passersby making their sweet lazy way down that big ol’ stretch of cobbled avenue. They just had to get to that guard’s outpost in the wall of the college-temple without being spotted. They needed a diversion. So, the dwarf cranked up his crossbow and after sorting out all the nobs and whistles on it he had a crack at shooting the hearse. He’d planned on just winging the hearse itself but it turned out to be something of an awful shot. A gust of wind caught the padded-safety quarrel he was using to make a big thump, and it ended up taking the driver’s hat off. The petrified Hearse-Man shouted “Alarum Alarum! Call the Watch! I’m being attacked!” as he cowered under the hearse’s horse. The horse didn’t care much for this and reared up nearly killing the driver. In the furore, they scampered over the road. Well, all but that idiot Emissary who just strolled across, oblivious to the urgency. Some tense negotiations later and they found themselves bedecked in College-Temple robes, undertaking their first Night-Patrol with the shouts of the Under-Sargeant ringing in their ears. As far as the Hirinian was concerned, this was a very peculiar development, but one not without profit. At least the feckin coin thing was safe in the guard locker he’d been given. He had a job. He had some food inside him. Ok he had this idiot to deal with and the threat of death, but that wasn’t much of burden given his situation lately. Thing was: could he bear to be in such a run down foul shit hole of a place as Putrexia’s College-Temple with this idiot for the next 24 hours? And was it alright if he fixed all those wonky light-fittings as they were driving him INSANE?


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