(This was a Hallowe'en inspired session but, of course, I hadn't told the players that in the hope of maintaining the suspense as long as possible...)
The cadre makes preparations to reclaim Louie's old ship. Mort briefs them about what to expect and the risk of radiation exposure if the reactor has been damaged. They also discuss options for how to get the ship back into space. Louie organises legal paperwork transferring ownership to Hasimir (as he's the only one currently using his real name...), Lawrence pays the bankers draft into one of his accounts, they hire a truck to get them to the crash site and purchase some additional gear (Mort gets some additional tools, Hasimir an armoured spacesuit (for Radiation protection), Keats a Geiger counter and a number of them buy Radiation Serum.
They head out of the city and arrive in the mountain village of Calsazio, the resting place of the "Wretched Harridan" (Louie had apparently named the ship after his fourth wife). About a mile away Keats detects an increase in radiation; it appears that the reactor is leaking and the cadre takes precautions. They also anticipate that as the ship has been here for some time the radiation will have had a detrimental effect on the locals.
Feeling that in order to prevent misunderstandings or unwanted attention they ought to make themselves known to the village headman they head through the village to his house. Driving through the village they find it a ghost town, seemingly bereft of all life.
Keats and Lawrence enter the headman's house and find its inhabitants are all dead and in states of advanced decay. Closer examination reveals that they all have pre-mortem wounds, some potentially fatal.
They decide to get on with securing the ship and head across the village to its crash site. On route Keats finds a child's drawing showing "Daddy" as some sort of monster.
They get to work on the ship. Mort assesses the damage to the ship as Louie tells them a bit more about the crash. Due to his pilot's skill they were able to focus the ship's shields to the fore to mitigate the descent and damage so the hull is damaged but only appears to have a minor breach. Mort was right to suspect a reactor leak though and he, Keats and Hasimir set to work to repair it. It proves to be a relatively simple fix but takes most of the afternoon to lock down and restore power. Meanwhile Lawrence keeps watch outside and Louie takes Arcadia for a tour of the vessel.
Lawrence notices a single light on in the village in the shadow of the mountains, the location of which would appear to be the village church.
After resolving the reactor breach and restoring power (which illuminates the ship like a beacon) Mort does a further check of the ship's systems. There appears to be evidence of erratic Volt transference but other than the hull damage the systems seem to check out ok. Lawrence then comes running in, a horde of figures are shambling towards them from the village. It appears that the residents of Calsazio have been reanimated as Husks.
They lockdown the ship and get the external monitors online, watching as the shambling mob approaches. Everyone except Lawrence, Louie and Arcadia are gripped with fear. They consider their options; the ship is loaded with missiles and rockets, they could risk using one to decimate the Husks but at this range it could damage the ship or cause an avalanche. They need more information so Keats sneaks from the ship and heads around the edge of the village, aiming to investigate the light (now extinguished) in the church.
The Husk horde reaches the ship and from its midst a young, living, woman leaps up and onto the hirde truck. She calls out the crew, to feed to her "babies" so they can join them and Hasimir is nominated to speak to her. She appears to think herself a revolutionary, looking to over throw the impotent nobility with her zombie army! Hasimir, the erudite Torenson, may not have been the best choice to parlay with her....
Thursday 30 October 2014
Thursday 23 October 2014
Session thirteen; "..then I took an Arrowhead missile to the knee..."
We began by narrating the journey for Deepcore 104 to 101. The cadre had secured travel on a Guild convoy heading north and were travelling under assumed names:
* Hasimir was "Dibbler" and the front man for the group
* Hemlock was using his old alias of "Keats"
* Lawrence was "Oblee-ous Ploy"
* Arcadia called herself "Façade"
* Hemlock was using his old alias of "Keats"
* Lawrence was "Oblee-ous Ploy"
* Arcadia called herself "Façade"
Travel was largely uneventful but allowed the group to get "into character" in the cover identities before arriving in the Muster controlled city and meeting up with their contact, Mort.
Mort is a member of the Supreme Order of Engineers (and a new player character, replacing Beorn) and known to Keats after his time with the Charioteers in space. The cadre had sent ahead a sample genelock for Mort to verify and give the SOE seal of approval to, before sale, and Mort has also been working to find local merchants who might be interested in the goods.
I wanted to impress on everyone the differences between the city they were leaving and teh one the were coming to. Deepcore 101 is run by the Guilds. The Merchant League hold sway here, not the Noble Houses and thus trade is the order of the day. The Muster own the majority share in the city and control it's ruling council but that's not to say that their rule is complete.
There are no "peasants" in the city. Guilders cannot rule over serfs...however while there are many freemen employed in the mines and teh various businesses in the city the majority of workers are "bound by contract" or "indentured workers" - effectively Muster slaves.
Technology is more widespread (and better maintained) within 101 than it's sister Deepcore (104) but is still retained under the control of the Guilds and their associated Freemen. Plus like 104 power has not been returned to all areas and much of the mine workings that form the basis of the city's economy and run 24/7 are still lit by oil lamps and run on steam, water or beast power. As the mines run constantly so the shift workers need to be catered for continually so there is no real "night cycle" within the city. Markets, traders and services run without cease; it is a city that never sleeps and all in the quest of profit.
The Guild Council are wary about deeper expansion of the city, having learned a lesson from the Musters exploits on the Austrum islands and the city currently entertains comparatively large delegations of the Synecullum, ever watchful for Guild breaches of Church mandate. The only party in 101 more wary of the Synecullum than the Guilds are the Eskatonic Sect Geomancers who have set up a "research collective" in the city to analyse and assess the state of the terraforming engines and the secrets of the planet's deepest regions.
When the group arrives Mort advises them that he's found a local Charioteer named Louie who is interested in buying the entire stock and they set up a meet.
They meet Louie in a mine workers bar. He is a rough looking trader from Al-Malik space with obvious cybernetic arms and leg but he seems pretty amenable and eager to deal. He agrees to pay just over 180,000 firebirds for the goods and can take receipt and pay them by Bank draft the following day. They agree to the deal and spend the rest of the evening drinking in his company. They learn that he was a travelling merchant with a ship of his own until he "took an Arrowhead missile to the knee" and crashed his ship on Ravenna. He's been here ever since and while content he seems to miss his previous life.
After a morning of doing odd jobs (shopping, scoping out the meeting site etc) the cadre go to the rendezvous in a hired van loaded with the genelocks, Keats going on ahead on foot to check for ambush. The meeting is due to take place in the vehicle parking lot attached to a monorail station that serves this sector of the city. Louie turns up on time with an assistant in a beaten up old road car. Things start well but Keats hears the noise of foot steps rushing down the train tunnel and alerts the group. They are soon surrounded by a gang of thugs in Louie's employ. He says he doesn't have the money for them and he'd just like the goods handed over. A tense standoff ensues, eventually broken by Façade shooting one of the thugs.
Faced with the end of Façade's gun, while Dibbler shouts that they need him alive, and with none of his men capable of putting up a fight, Louie throws himself on their mercy. He says he still wants the goods and can pay, but he never had the 180,000fb. He can pay them 100,000fb ("Please don't kill me!") and offers a way to make up the difference; his old ship, an Al-Malik Rahimat class Galliot is stored in a village a few miles away. It needs work but it's easily worth more than the difference owed. The group agree. They treat Dibbler's wound, get the Bank Draft from Louie for the 100,000fb, exchange the goods and set off to reclaim the ship...
Tuesday 21 October 2014
Interlude - Audentes Fortuna Adjuvat
Hair fell to the floor as Arcadia's identity was stripped away. Her armour, weapons, all the trappings of her position and title (bar her precious energy shield) were gone, taken by Beorn as evidence of her "death".
Three years ago, confronted with a similar situation she had run. Then she was young and scared. Her idealism had failed her. No.
She had failed. Her goals, the campaign itself, hadn't failed. She had failed it. She could, should have been a martyr for the cause but she'd turned tail and run. Fled to the stars, touring the worlds fighting in whatever conflicts she could find. Throwing herself into battle, trying to lose herself in the wars against barbarians, or insurrectionists, or rival houses or any number of other faceless foes.
She had succeeded. She had lost herself. She had become tired and returned home. Dame Arcadia the prodigal.
And in the course of the last few months she had found herself again.
She should not hide from her duty, it was a silly child who thought she could. She should have known at the tourney, hiding in a tent and waiting for others, did no good.
"Audentes Fortuna Adjuvat" - she'd seen that scrawled on a wall once on a Li Halan world. She didn't speak the language of the church but she knew enough to work out the literal meaning; "Fortune comes to the aid of those daring".
For three years she had run in fear. She had presented the visage of a veteran fighter but beneath it all she had been afraid, cowed, timid. She had let others lead. She had failed to be bold and fortune had abandoned her. No more.
The last of her golden locks landed in the dust of the hideout floor. She didn't need to look at herself. She knew what she was again. Arcadia had been restored. She was hard again, inviolate, determined. Some might call her a fanatic but she had a duty to her House, whether her mother recognised it or not. She would be the warrior, the avenging force, that Princess Carolandra needed her to be. The enemies of House Justinian, internal and external would be made to pay.
Three years ago, confronted with a similar situation she had run. Then she was young and scared. Her idealism had failed her. No.
She had failed. Her goals, the campaign itself, hadn't failed. She had failed it. She could, should have been a martyr for the cause but she'd turned tail and run. Fled to the stars, touring the worlds fighting in whatever conflicts she could find. Throwing herself into battle, trying to lose herself in the wars against barbarians, or insurrectionists, or rival houses or any number of other faceless foes.
She had succeeded. She had lost herself. She had become tired and returned home. Dame Arcadia the prodigal.
And in the course of the last few months she had found herself again.
She should not hide from her duty, it was a silly child who thought she could. She should have known at the tourney, hiding in a tent and waiting for others, did no good.
"Audentes Fortuna Adjuvat" - she'd seen that scrawled on a wall once on a Li Halan world. She didn't speak the language of the church but she knew enough to work out the literal meaning; "Fortune comes to the aid of those daring".
For three years she had run in fear. She had presented the visage of a veteran fighter but beneath it all she had been afraid, cowed, timid. She had let others lead. She had failed to be bold and fortune had abandoned her. No more.
The last of her golden locks landed in the dust of the hideout floor. She didn't need to look at herself. She knew what she was again. Arcadia had been restored. She was hard again, inviolate, determined. Some might call her a fanatic but she had a duty to her House, whether her mother recognised it or not. She would be the warrior, the avenging force, that Princess Carolandra needed her to be. The enemies of House Justinian, internal and external would be made to pay.
Monday 20 October 2014
Interlude - Hemlock to Keats
Hemlock hates mirrors. The dead rear in them. He hides the ghosts by covering mirrors, or turning them to face the wall. If he stares straight at a mirror, if he doesn't catch it out of the corner of his eye, he can stop the ghosts appearing. So he stares himself in the eye and severs his long hair.
Keats hid his hair: white-blonde stood out in the shadows. One of Keats' sharp knives claims the length of it. Then scissors: a messy job. He tells himself that it was getting too long anyway, making him look too much like a girl. What remains is wrapped in dark grey cloth, a trailing length to cover his face.
Hemlock's fancy armour can be hidden beneath the camouflage surcoat, but his sword is too distinctive - it'll have to be stowed. Keats pulls the cloth across his face and stares at himself in the mirror, feeling somehow more at ease.
Keats hid his hair: white-blonde stood out in the shadows. One of Keats' sharp knives claims the length of it. Then scissors: a messy job. He tells himself that it was getting too long anyway, making him look too much like a girl. What remains is wrapped in dark grey cloth, a trailing length to cover his face.
Hemlock's fancy armour can be hidden beneath the camouflage surcoat, but his sword is too distinctive - it'll have to be stowed. Keats pulls the cloth across his face and stares at himself in the mirror, feeling somehow more at ease.
Sunday 19 October 2014
Interlude - Beorn's bounty
The poor serf had never saw it coming...
The plan had been so good he wished he'd thought of it but unfortunately it was Arcadia's.
Beorn had set the trap. He'd found a target and had worked out where in the market she was going. Hidden in the dark alleyway he had bumped into her "accidently" early that day slipping her a note telling her she should come down this particular path to meet a "special someone".
"Man she's gullible", Beorn thought as he saw her come towards his hiding place, "shame I don't get to use plan 2"
"Hello?" she called out as she walked down the empty ally towards Beorn. Quickly it was done. As she walked passed, Beorn leaped out pushing her into a small outcrop in the wall of the neighbouring building. He covered her mouth and hit her head against the wall. "I'm glad it's ok if I hurt her." he thought as he felt warm blood drip down near his hand. Using brute strength he knocked her out cold and, after checking no one was watching, carried her over his shoulder over to a bin near where he was hiding. From the bin he removed Acardia’s armour and travelling clothes. He stripped the serf and put the outfit on her. After that he put his muster-chains on her and got out his assault laser. "Well at least now I’ll have used this once if I decide to sell it." he said.
ZARCKZ
"Well that’s that" he said looking down at the girl. She used to be a girl with a similar build to Arcadia with the same blonde hair as Arcadia. Now she had the same build to Arcadia with the same blonde hair as Arcadia and a large scorch mark where her face had been. Slowly, blood trickled down her body. Beorn would wait until the the bleeding stopped and would then go and hand in the body. They had had to believe it was Arcadia; they looked similar enough and the Hawkwoods couldn't immediately prove otherwise. Beorn was a known Bounty Hunter, he’d claim the bounty and buy some time for Arcadia and the others. Beorn used his wrist squwarker. "Everyone, you’re about to have a much easier time in Deepcore 101 and while you’re on the road."
The plan had been so good he wished he'd thought of it but unfortunately it was Arcadia's.
Beorn had set the trap. He'd found a target and had worked out where in the market she was going. Hidden in the dark alleyway he had bumped into her "accidently" early that day slipping her a note telling her she should come down this particular path to meet a "special someone".
"Man she's gullible", Beorn thought as he saw her come towards his hiding place, "shame I don't get to use plan 2"
"Hello?" she called out as she walked down the empty ally towards Beorn. Quickly it was done. As she walked passed, Beorn leaped out pushing her into a small outcrop in the wall of the neighbouring building. He covered her mouth and hit her head against the wall. "I'm glad it's ok if I hurt her." he thought as he felt warm blood drip down near his hand. Using brute strength he knocked her out cold and, after checking no one was watching, carried her over his shoulder over to a bin near where he was hiding. From the bin he removed Acardia’s armour and travelling clothes. He stripped the serf and put the outfit on her. After that he put his muster-chains on her and got out his assault laser. "Well at least now I’ll have used this once if I decide to sell it." he said.
ZARCKZ
"Well that’s that" he said looking down at the girl. She used to be a girl with a similar build to Arcadia with the same blonde hair as Arcadia. Now she had the same build to Arcadia with the same blonde hair as Arcadia and a large scorch mark where her face had been. Slowly, blood trickled down her body. Beorn would wait until the the bleeding stopped and would then go and hand in the body. They had had to believe it was Arcadia; they looked similar enough and the Hawkwoods couldn't immediately prove otherwise. Beorn was a known Bounty Hunter, he’d claim the bounty and buy some time for Arcadia and the others. Beorn used his wrist squwarker. "Everyone, you’re about to have a much easier time in Deepcore 101 and while you’re on the road."
Thursday 16 October 2014
Session twelve; The return from below
The unconscious members of the group soon recover and the cadre takes stock; only two of the mercenaries survived the Golem attack but everyone else seems ok. Beorn and Lawrence become concerned as they can hear internal machinery grinding away in what they believe is the assembly of more golems.
Hastily they recommence loading the wagons while Beorn keeps watch. Soon he hears clanking footsteps as a new, larger force of golems emerges. The party retreat, but the mercenaries aren't quick enough and are cut down in a torrent of laser fire. Beorn then releases the jammed blast door, slowing their mechanical pursuers while they make a hasty withdrawal.
Arcadia leads the way but the group work together to navigate their way back to the surface (after losing their prospector guide). They make good progress and see no further sign of Golems.
Up above, Lady Althea Justinian (the dwarf penitent psychic noble the party encountered in #9) has been staying with the Baroness and General. She takes to wandering the fief and seeing how the peasants live, giving charitable aid where possible. She encounters some "Drivers" (the local watchmen and guards) beating on a serf for non-payment of taxes. Althea intervenes and pays the woman's tax. She faces down the sergeant who still wishes to arrest the "criminal" and once they are gone she treats the woman's wounds.
Arcadia and company find their progress barred by a chasm, possibly caused by the tremors or Borer beast they encountered on their way down. Using collected debris and rubble they are eventually able to build a bridge to take the carts across and continue on their way.
Lady Althea takes tea with the Baroness and learns more about her "Social Reinforcement" techniques to keep her serfs obedient and passive. Althea asks and gains permission to continue to minister to the population, the Baroness seeing the Church and it's doctrines as both validating and enforcing her population control measures.
The cadre next face a roaring water surge that threatens to sweep away the carts and their cargo. Mercifully they are able to get the wagons to higher ground and all manage to stay dry and safe.
The day after Althea's conversation with the Baroness she goes out on a hunt with the General and his cronies (see "The General's Hunt"). Upon encountering the oncoming Hawkwood force they send out a rider who returns with one of the Hawkwood men-at-arms. Althea manages to read his surface thoughts and finds that he is under the command of Baronet Christopher Windsor Hawkwood. They learn through conversation that they are headed to the Midden barony and seek to speak with the Baroness.
Lawrence has arranged a safe house to store the recovered goods so they secure the contents of the wagons there and then return to the mansion "from their unsuccessful hunt". It's about three days since they left and is the same day as the General's hunt.
De Havilland is at the mansion speaking with the Baroness. She looks grave and immediately summons Arcadia to speak with her privately. The Marquis tells the rest of the group about the approaching Hawkwoods. They are coming to arrest Arcadia for the attempted murder of the Planetary Duke three years previously. Hasimir and Hemlock are outraged at yet another false accusation and believe it is Selwyn stirring again. De Havilland then delivers the additional news that Selwyn is dead, apparently killed by a member of the Slayer's Guild. Lawrence and Beorn start making plans to leave while Hemlock stands by the Baroness' study in case Arcadia has need of him. He can hear a heated argument going on within.
Hasimir is the highest ranking member of the household present (as he is essentially an employee of the Justinians) and a maid tells him that a peasant has been waiting to deliver a message to Arcadia upon her return. He has the man brought before him, a stinky, flea bitten wretch, who hands over a piece of paper and says the message is "The job is done". The paper contains the sigil of the Slayer's Guild, which De Havilland sees.
Arcadia eventually bursts from the study with the words "WELL I'M GLAD I TRIED TO KILL HIM!" and storms down the stairs to the hall. Her mother screams after her that she doesn't realise what she's done to her family, and the cadre make a hasty exit. De Havilland doesn't attempt to stop them.
For now they hole up in the safe house Lawrence had arranged while they plan their next move. Arcadia confirms that she did attempt to kill Duke Cassius but the attempt failed, and that was why she had left Ravenna. Facade was part of the team she had recruited to help her. She is shocked to hear of the death of Selwyn though and maintains that she didn't hire the Slayers. They agree that they need to liquidate their genelock stash and then plan to get off world as soon as possible. The best place to start may be to head north to the Muster controlled Deepcore 101...
Hastily they recommence loading the wagons while Beorn keeps watch. Soon he hears clanking footsteps as a new, larger force of golems emerges. The party retreat, but the mercenaries aren't quick enough and are cut down in a torrent of laser fire. Beorn then releases the jammed blast door, slowing their mechanical pursuers while they make a hasty withdrawal.
Arcadia leads the way but the group work together to navigate their way back to the surface (after losing their prospector guide). They make good progress and see no further sign of Golems.
Up above, Lady Althea Justinian (the dwarf penitent psychic noble the party encountered in #9) has been staying with the Baroness and General. She takes to wandering the fief and seeing how the peasants live, giving charitable aid where possible. She encounters some "Drivers" (the local watchmen and guards) beating on a serf for non-payment of taxes. Althea intervenes and pays the woman's tax. She faces down the sergeant who still wishes to arrest the "criminal" and once they are gone she treats the woman's wounds.
Arcadia and company find their progress barred by a chasm, possibly caused by the tremors or Borer beast they encountered on their way down. Using collected debris and rubble they are eventually able to build a bridge to take the carts across and continue on their way.
Lady Althea takes tea with the Baroness and learns more about her "Social Reinforcement" techniques to keep her serfs obedient and passive. Althea asks and gains permission to continue to minister to the population, the Baroness seeing the Church and it's doctrines as both validating and enforcing her population control measures.
The cadre next face a roaring water surge that threatens to sweep away the carts and their cargo. Mercifully they are able to get the wagons to higher ground and all manage to stay dry and safe.
The day after Althea's conversation with the Baroness she goes out on a hunt with the General and his cronies (see "The General's Hunt"). Upon encountering the oncoming Hawkwood force they send out a rider who returns with one of the Hawkwood men-at-arms. Althea manages to read his surface thoughts and finds that he is under the command of Baronet Christopher Windsor Hawkwood. They learn through conversation that they are headed to the Midden barony and seek to speak with the Baroness.
Lawrence has arranged a safe house to store the recovered goods so they secure the contents of the wagons there and then return to the mansion "from their unsuccessful hunt". It's about three days since they left and is the same day as the General's hunt.
De Havilland is at the mansion speaking with the Baroness. She looks grave and immediately summons Arcadia to speak with her privately. The Marquis tells the rest of the group about the approaching Hawkwoods. They are coming to arrest Arcadia for the attempted murder of the Planetary Duke three years previously. Hasimir and Hemlock are outraged at yet another false accusation and believe it is Selwyn stirring again. De Havilland then delivers the additional news that Selwyn is dead, apparently killed by a member of the Slayer's Guild. Lawrence and Beorn start making plans to leave while Hemlock stands by the Baroness' study in case Arcadia has need of him. He can hear a heated argument going on within.
Hasimir is the highest ranking member of the household present (as he is essentially an employee of the Justinians) and a maid tells him that a peasant has been waiting to deliver a message to Arcadia upon her return. He has the man brought before him, a stinky, flea bitten wretch, who hands over a piece of paper and says the message is "The job is done". The paper contains the sigil of the Slayer's Guild, which De Havilland sees.
Arcadia eventually bursts from the study with the words "WELL I'M GLAD I TRIED TO KILL HIM!" and storms down the stairs to the hall. Her mother screams after her that she doesn't realise what she's done to her family, and the cadre make a hasty exit. De Havilland doesn't attempt to stop them.
For now they hole up in the safe house Lawrence had arranged while they plan their next move. Arcadia confirms that she did attempt to kill Duke Cassius but the attempt failed, and that was why she had left Ravenna. Facade was part of the team she had recruited to help her. She is shocked to hear of the death of Selwyn though and maintains that she didn't hire the Slayers. They agree that they need to liquidate their genelock stash and then plan to get off world as soon as possible. The best place to start may be to head north to the Muster controlled Deepcore 101...
Wednesday 8 October 2014
Interlude - An Obedient Servant
The pool of blood had extended like a steaming yet tranquil crimson lake.
This is something De Havilland would like to know. That was Tonbei's thought as he quietly watched the scene unfold before him.
The humans were dashing about, their sandaled feet echoing on the courtyard flagstones in the crisp early morning air. Household guards were being summoned and the Baron raised from his bed. The peace was irrevocably shattered.
The Ur-Obun warrior had followed the Justinian noble, as per De Havilland's request, from the human festival, for the past 48 standard hours. He had hurried to a dwelling first, Tonbei assumed it was the noble's current abode. Signs indicated he lived there with another human but no one else was present. The man had searched for something urgently, a simple looking metal strongbox, retrieved it and hurriedly left again.
As he had been commanded Tonbei had followed, clinging as before to the underside of the Justinian's skimmer. Such was his lot under the rule of his Human masters.
The journey had taken most of a day, travelling at speed across the rolling grass plains. It had taken great focus on his part to enter the meditative trance required to retain his grasp but he had managed. He always gave his all to follow De Havilland's commands.
Tonbei dropped off the vehicle as it started to slow and had followed the remaining way on foot. It appeared that the Justinian had arrived at a country estate but it was not the lord of the manor he had come to see, but one of the guests. It was one of the Hawkwoods; those humans who "owned" Velisamil, the planet of Tonbei's birth. The noble had seemed surprised to see the Justinian and was dismissive of him until words were mumbled into his ear. They had then hurried off and spoken in private at length.
The Ur-Obun was not without means and thus he'd learnt much of what they had discussed. The Justinian had traded secrets with the Hawkwood and now they planned to seek aid from the capital. Things were escalating quickly and they planned to leave at first light.
Tonbei had a decision to make, to report back or follow? He knew their plans now and De Havilland would want this information. Trailing them would gain no benefit, while alerting the Knight might give him time to plan. After consideration the Ur-Obun believed he knew him well enough to second guess his wishes. Tonbei would leave when his quarry did.
But this quarry would not be leaving.
There he lay, on the courtyard, broken. The fight had obviously been desperate, the Justinian's rapier lay a few yards from his corpse. But the killing blow was also obvious. An Ukari dagger still stuck in his neck. Tonbei could also see from his vantage point that the servants had noted the slip of parchment on the body. It bore a single mark, a hand holding a blood drenched dagger; the sigil of the Slayers guild.
He would tell all this to De Havilland. He would explain how his indecision about what he was required to do had prevented him from being watchful of his quarry. He would take the stern words and disapproving stares. He could see the bigger picture and he knew his place. He was, after all, an obedient servant.
This is something De Havilland would like to know. That was Tonbei's thought as he quietly watched the scene unfold before him.
The humans were dashing about, their sandaled feet echoing on the courtyard flagstones in the crisp early morning air. Household guards were being summoned and the Baron raised from his bed. The peace was irrevocably shattered.
The Ur-Obun warrior had followed the Justinian noble, as per De Havilland's request, from the human festival, for the past 48 standard hours. He had hurried to a dwelling first, Tonbei assumed it was the noble's current abode. Signs indicated he lived there with another human but no one else was present. The man had searched for something urgently, a simple looking metal strongbox, retrieved it and hurriedly left again.
As he had been commanded Tonbei had followed, clinging as before to the underside of the Justinian's skimmer. Such was his lot under the rule of his Human masters.
The journey had taken most of a day, travelling at speed across the rolling grass plains. It had taken great focus on his part to enter the meditative trance required to retain his grasp but he had managed. He always gave his all to follow De Havilland's commands.
Tonbei dropped off the vehicle as it started to slow and had followed the remaining way on foot. It appeared that the Justinian had arrived at a country estate but it was not the lord of the manor he had come to see, but one of the guests. It was one of the Hawkwoods; those humans who "owned" Velisamil, the planet of Tonbei's birth. The noble had seemed surprised to see the Justinian and was dismissive of him until words were mumbled into his ear. They had then hurried off and spoken in private at length.
The Ur-Obun was not without means and thus he'd learnt much of what they had discussed. The Justinian had traded secrets with the Hawkwood and now they planned to seek aid from the capital. Things were escalating quickly and they planned to leave at first light.
Tonbei had a decision to make, to report back or follow? He knew their plans now and De Havilland would want this information. Trailing them would gain no benefit, while alerting the Knight might give him time to plan. After consideration the Ur-Obun believed he knew him well enough to second guess his wishes. Tonbei would leave when his quarry did.
But this quarry would not be leaving.
There he lay, on the courtyard, broken. The fight had obviously been desperate, the Justinian's rapier lay a few yards from his corpse. But the killing blow was also obvious. An Ukari dagger still stuck in his neck. Tonbei could also see from his vantage point that the servants had noted the slip of parchment on the body. It bore a single mark, a hand holding a blood drenched dagger; the sigil of the Slayers guild.
He would tell all this to De Havilland. He would explain how his indecision about what he was required to do had prevented him from being watchful of his quarry. He would take the stern words and disapproving stares. He could see the bigger picture and he knew his place. He was, after all, an obedient servant.
Thursday 2 October 2014
Interlude - Deep, deep thoughts
Tonbei pushed gently at the door and made his way across the wooden floor of the room. In the corner sat the imposing yet relaxed figure of the Marquis De Havilland, who was rested at the rustic table, staring out through a large hatched window into the city below. Artificial light poured in, and the glow of it gave the false feeling of warmth. The Marquis never flinched at Tonbei's sudden arrival, and with one hand tucked comfortably under his arm, he had the other to his face, stroking his moustache, deep, deep in thought.
Tonbei slipped into a space opposite the Knight. The Marquis moved just his eyes to look into the face of his comrade, both reading into the eyes of the other. Tonbei broke the silence, "The Justinian boy has arrived Lord, what is your decision?"
The Marquis turned his eyes back to the city around, never moving a muscle as though every fabric of his body had been sacrificed instead to the workings of his mind.
"I think..... I think.......I think this will be a very interesting day..." he responded. The two figures sat in silence. Deep, deep in thought.
Tonbei slipped into a space opposite the Knight. The Marquis moved just his eyes to look into the face of his comrade, both reading into the eyes of the other. Tonbei broke the silence, "The Justinian boy has arrived Lord, what is your decision?"
The Marquis turned his eyes back to the city around, never moving a muscle as though every fabric of his body had been sacrificed instead to the workings of his mind.
"I think..... I think.......I think this will be a very interesting day..." he responded. The two figures sat in silence. Deep, deep in thought.
Wednesday 1 October 2014
Interlude - The General's Hunt
(While we're on hiatus for a couple of weeks I'll still try to post to the site when I can...for example, here's a little interlude I wrote for our players to give them a taste of what's happening on the surface while they are deep in the bowels of Deepcore 104...)
As was his custom, the General Sir Anthony Cecil Hogmannay Masseri Justinian had ridden out with a small entourage; some two dozen peasant beaters, catering and waiting staff, a token group of a dozen men-at-arms (with associated levied spearmen), his huntmaster, stable boys, and a half dozen regular favoured guests. The Guests were all veteran Justinian Knights and Baronets from local fiefs. All of whom had seen their glory days past and we're either foolish enough to believe The General's tales or impoverished enough to ignore his lies for the free meals and relative comforts of his hospitality.
The General sat even straighter in the saddle and puffed out his chest another inch or so.
"Sir!" The huntmaster was riding back towards the hunt party at speed. He pulled his steed up beside The General, it's nostril's flaring and it's breath heavy.
"I thought yer daughty were gonna be on this hack ol' man?" The plum coloured cheeks of the old Justinian knight flushed and flared in contrast to his impressive white muttonchops.
"P'shaw Martin! The youngster can hunt as she wishes, took her party out the other day. I only said we might come across her." The General responded.
The General, as ever, looked as impressive as he could muster, sat upon his horse in his full dress uniform, self-awarded medals and old House Masseri unit insignia gleaming in the early afternoon sun. In great contrast to his rider the horse was young, agile and beautiful. They made for a peculiar couple.
As was his custom, the General Sir Anthony Cecil Hogmannay Masseri Justinian had ridden out with a small entourage; some two dozen peasant beaters, catering and waiting staff, a token group of a dozen men-at-arms (with associated levied spearmen), his huntmaster, stable boys, and a half dozen regular favoured guests. The Guests were all veteran Justinian Knights and Baronets from local fiefs. All of whom had seen their glory days past and we're either foolish enough to believe The General's tales or impoverished enough to ignore his lies for the free meals and relative comforts of his hospitality.
"Wot we lookin' for ol' fruit? Got a favoured prey for today's hunt? Man of yer mettle must know all the choice sport for miles around." The whiskered knight was keen to ingratiate himself with his host after hearing rumours that his own stipend was to be curtailed by his liege lord, Baron Tochiro Justinian. He need not worry for The General was always eager to welcome new sycophants, flatterers, toadies and boot-lickers.
The General sat even straighter in the saddle and puffed out his chest another inch or so.
"Ravennan pinktail gazelle, old man. Good runners and this time of year they won't be at it like a Decados' whore so we've a chance of a decent chase." Polite chuckles, and a few overly loud guffaws answered The General's metaphor.
"Sir!" The huntmaster was riding back towards the hunt party at speed. He pulled his steed up beside The General, it's nostril's flaring and it's breath heavy.
"What is it Marshal?" The General tried to appear composed and authoritative. Didn't the man see he had guests? But he was an accomplished huntsman and a trusted householder, why had he come back in such a state, panic in his eyes? This wasn't the way things were conducted. This seemed like it would lead to a sudden and unwelcome end to the day's easy ride.
Marshal pointed back the way he had come, over the rolling hills of the plains. "Coming sir...over beyond..."
"Out with it man!" The General's discomfort was rapidly turning to anger. He foresaw a sound beating in Marshal's not too distant future. His day was ruined and he was being embarrassed before his friends. Marshal would pay. Possibly he needed to be taught a permanent lesson...
"Riders sah, and foot soldiers. An 'ole force of arms, General, riding fer the city." The panic and fear in the man's voice was evident to all who could hear. Smack. He felt the back of The General's hand and in shock and surprise fell from his horse.
The General's embarrassment fuelled anger was in full flow now.
"Who are they! What banners! How many men? Tell me, you pile of stinking Vorox excrement!"
"Hawkwoods sah! Dozens o' men led by about 'arf as many riders. Armed fer a fight!"
The General's face ran through emotions like a rapid fire Magic Lantern show, fear, disbelief, confusion, embarrassment. But the knock out blow was still to come.
"An' sah, your son's leading 'em..."
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