Dramatis Personae
Beltin (Aasimar Dirge Bard/Cleric 9).
Bradley Weatherby (Human Dervish Dancer 9/Knife Master Rogue 7/Duelist 2).
Obnoxiously Long Name, aka Mac (Ranger/Inquisitor 9).
Tarl (Aasimar Inquisitor/Paladin 9).
Glira Cross (Human Gunslinger/Magus 7?). Old character sheet, played by a new player.
Making friends for once, Session 6.1 - 6/7/14
Day 8, afternoon. Half of the Furious 14 lie cut down like dogs in the street, and the party stands over them as a fairly rowdy crowd begins to gather and talk among themselves about what has just happened, and drinks seem to flow out of the Sip of Blood as some of the crowd get comfortable, expecting something to happen.
The party wonders briefly what is going on, but is none too concerned, though Beltin is considering having a word with Lucky about his lack of warning concerning the 14 being outside as he "thought they were friends." But before he can, a group pushes their way through the crowd approaching the party.
"Halt, you are violating the law!" cries the young man in gleaming armor with the symbol Muir who seems to be in charge while simultaneously seeming hardly old enough to be in charge of anything. He is flanked by what appears to be a teenage girl dressed in the garb of a cleric, looking both determined and obviously nervous, and an older male cleric looking at the party disdainfully.
Behind them stand at least 6 hardened looking crusaders. "You will pay for your misdeeds, criminal scum! You are coming with us!" continues the young paladin.
The party is bemused by this turn of events and begins to wonder who the hell these people think they are, and BW asks the party if they should just kill them too. The young man puffs up, indignant, and asks if they dare to threaten he, Lucius Desticus Caepio, Commander of the 2nd Regiment of the New Army of Light, and tells them that justice will be served and the Camp will be brought under the rule of law.
Beltin interrupts and points out that they were carrying out "lawful" executions of known murderers and traitors against Bard's Gate, but Caepio sneers at him and tells him that is an unlikely story for a necromancer and defiler of the natural order and asks what proof he has. Beltin explains how the writ of execution is at the Bard's Gate embassy and all they would have to do is go get it.
A ruse more like, says Caepio as he prepares to give the order to take the party into custody, and then Samar pushes through the crowd and addresses him. He confirms the party's story and presents the writ to Caepio's obvious displeasure. He reads it, crumbles it up, throws it at Samar's feet, and orders his posse back. Before he leaves he glares at Beltin and the meaning is fairly clear: Something along the lines of "You'll step out of line and I'll be there," or "I'll see you on a cross, degenerate." Perhaps both.
Time in Camp: 36 hours, 40 minutes. Self-defense kills: 1. Murders: 2. Maimings: 2. "Lawful executions:" 8. Sworn enemies of: at least 4.
The crowd watching was obviously expecting more bloodshed, but as they were denied that pleasure, they mostly disperse besides those who were inclined to be drunk anyways: They stay sitting around and get to work on lawfully executing their sobriety with the aid of the helpful serving wenches of the Sip of Blood, who are more than willing to walk their asses outside if it means it they get paid more.
The party begins to talk about what to do with the corpses as no one else seems inclined to give a shit about the people rotting in the street, but then up pulls a cart and a strange looking man in a ragged suit and top hat steps down. He introduces himself as Griswald the undertaker and says he is here to get the bodies. The party asks why he does this and he tells them he performs this valuable community service out of the goodness of his heart... right.
Beltin notices his movements are oddly jerky at times and is reminiscent of undead he has seen and animated, but doesn't mention it. Griswald is infallibly polite and even gets Tarl to help him load the bodies into the cart before thanking him and driving away.
With that taken care of, back to the bar to think of our next move, says the party. Beltin approaches Lucky and asks why he didn't mention the 14 outside and Lucky points out he can hardly be expected to be blamed for them not looking out the front door and fiddling with corpses for 10 minutes at the crime scene after carrying out a massacre in his bar. That said, have a drink on the house so we can put any hurt feelings aside, says Lucky as he pouts Beltin a shot from the Decanter of Endless Grain Alcohol. Oh Lucky, they can't stay mad at you.
Beltin asks about the boy commander who accosted them and Lucky seems mostly unconcerned. Caepio is some young upstart who got his position because his higher ups met their doom in the Desolation, mostly at the failed Crusader camp, and the "regiment" he claims to be in charge of is more a couple dozen men, most of which wish their commander would meet the same fate as his superiors.
Caepio thinks he will take over the camp, says Lucky, and has been enforcing the "rule of law" for about a week now and has even carried out some executions on the gallows. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, says Lucky, so if history has taught him anything, it is that the young obnoxious paladin's time on this plane of existence is nearly done.
Beltin tells this to the party as they sit around and are joined by Glira again. Mac and Glira seem inclined to keep drinking at the moment, but Tarl, Beltin, and BW has plans. Tarl and Beltin decide they should check in with the power in town, the Usurer and see if he has anything for people of their skill sets, and BW has some up with a business proposition for the Benders. One that, unfortunately, the Benders took as one they "couldn't refuse."
BW went to the Bender Bros inn and met one of them sweeping up in front. Ah, BW, says the gnome, here for another night? No, says BW, I know about your side business and have an idea for you. The Bender's smile slips and he invites him into the office. BW lays out his plan: Instead of people constantly disappearing, as that is suspicious and will be even more so if the Camp keeps growing as people will notice, they should take a page from the trade consortium and perhaps diversify their business, and for a fee he can help.
"Have you ever heard of 'adventurer's insurance?" asks BW.
He explains the scam; adventurers pay an arm and a leg for a "magically binding" contract that will ensure they get medical aid when required, including from death. Obviously this never comes and seems like an obvious ploy. Except for one detail. He knows of an easy to manufacture poison that can be used to drive the victim temporarily insane and easy to trick; they can use it to get said adventurers to sign deals and include clauses about what happens to their loot if they are mentally incapable.
He insists that such scams will work and the Benders will be able to greatly expand their profits while exposing themselves to less risk. The Bender listens raptly and seems to consider it. Finally he smiles and asks how soon BW can show them how to synthesize said toxin.
BW rolls his sense motive and notices that the Bender does not actually seem happy. Oh, not at all. BW says he can have it for tonight and the Bender tells him to come back at sun down; they can go through the alchemical process and discuss it more then.
From the alchemical components from Bol, BW had everything he needed to make the poison but not a place. Back to the Sip of Blood! BW, with the aid of a wench, inquires about renting some work space at the tavern. And he places a pouch with several hundred gold on the counter. Lucky makes a show of stretching and puts his arm on the pouch before sliding it down behind the bar.
"Well, there's my room..." begins Lucky and BW says he will take it. Lucky says let me finish and says no way in hell, but you can use the girls' room for the day. The translator sweetly asks if he needs any company. BW says it would be lovely. The sweet tone drops and suddenly business-like the women tells him 10 bits. BW tips it to her just to see her lovely smile again and tells her he'll call her in later.
He rolls a sense motive to see if she really likes him and realizes yes, yes she does. Who wouldn't love a rich potential sugar daddy?
As BW gets to work "cooking meth" (because the alchemical process looks just like Breaking Bad) in the cramped bedroom of the four wenches, Tarl and Beltin approach the Usurer. They notice more guards standing outside the money changing portion and the man who lost a hand does not appear to be working there anymore, and they hear conversation from within the actual smithy.
As they approach several orcs in familiar looking armor step out, though the 14's on their armor have been hastily scratched out. They stare down the two men in front of them and the Usurer calls out that the orcs work for him now and are no longer Tarl and Beltin's concern. They step aside and the orcs move warily away and head toward the money changing out building.
Come in, says the Usurer and they do. He stops working on the armor he his hammering and asks what they want. Oh, a job? What a coincidence... Come back at sun set, my house, and we can talk.
They return to the bar and tell the party how they may have a job and will know later that night. BW does not share his news with them as he expects Tarl will not be pleased, but has already gotten Glira and Mac to agree to come with him as backup, though they will of course be hidden. Something about how that Bender looked at him didn't seem right... For the rest of the day BW makes meth and plots with Glira and Mac secretly, but Beltin and Tarl split up and go for a walk around camp.
Tarl, being a paragon of good, begins offering free healing and disease curing for the citizens of the Camp and some adventuring types and makes some friends. Grabbing a guy and taking away his clap just endears you to people. The good aligned adventuring types like him especially, but besides that Tarl can't quite remember what their names, races, classes, genders, ages, personalities, or physical characteristics are like, but he is sure that if a new PC needs to introduced he will possibly suddenly remember meeting them here.
Beltin decides he needs a place to call his own. He walks towards the out skirts of town and stone shapes himself a one story house. A man walking by, obviously an adventurer, stops awestruck as this is apparently the greatest thing he has ever seen. 10 bits for one of them, says the man. Make it 15 says Beltin and they come to an agreement and Beltin now has a neighbor and potential replacement PC, though his specifics are awfully hard to remember at the moment. Beltin also realizes this could be a brilliant money making scheme, as it's not like the Camp has building regulations. He may have just started his side-career as a real estate tycoon.
That night Tarl and Beltin return to the smithy and walk around back toward the Usurer's actual dwelling and they enter. The room is sparse and dusty but there are three chairs and they sit. They came at a good time said the Usurer and he was actually considering approaching them, though not perhaps in this configuration, he adds looking at the paladin.
He and the Camp have a problem he says and the party met it earlier. The obnoxious young "commander." The Usurer confirms what lucky said about how Caepio got his appointment and mentions how at first he was beneath notice, but now... well, says the Usurer, let me explain. In the Camp and in life in general, there are guys you can hit and guys you cannot, at least not without permission. Caepio has hit a couple of such people that you can't and he certainly didn't ask for permission.
He is a problem. He has to go.
At this point the Usurer looks at Tarl and asks what he thinks about this. Tarl responds that if the man is destabilizing the established order then he is inviting anarchy and must be stopped. The Usurer actually smiles and says he is glad Tarl sees it that way.
In the Ashen Wastes there is an area of calm and peace, explains the Usurer, an uncorrupted graveyard with a fountain dedicated to an angel who was slain in the battle of Tsar. Soon Caepio, the two priests who act as his "advisers" and some men loyal to him, his "elite" plan on taking an expedition to that spot in the wastes.
They think it will protect them and will perhaps be an area for a forward camp, says the Usurer. They are mistaken, he says, and the party will see to it. He can disguise their true nature, make the crusaders believe they are being attacked by beasts from the Desolation, so should any escape they won't know who attacked them, and then the party will kill them.
At this, Tarl says no. He will not hide his nature or why he is there. The Usurer scowls and agrees. In return, he can will help them off load their loot; he can convince the merchants in town to give them better rates, though they will still need to trade their treasure for credit with said merchants. He also reveals he has some ability with the crafting of magical items and can help them, but this is a very exclusive service he offers to very few and they should feel honored. The terms are agreed to and Tarl and Beltin get up to go.
They shake the Usurer's hand and for a second Tarl sees the face before him appear dessicated, almost mummified, and then the image is gone. Must have been a trick of the light.
Wait, says the Usurer to Beltin. One more word just between us. Tarl leaves. The Usurer gives him a scroll and tells him it will disguise them and he expects the paladin to be magically concealed, regardless of what he wants. Also, he reminds Beltin, such a precaution should not be relied upon. He expects them to leave no survivors. Beltin remembers how one of the clerics appears to be little more than a girl, but agrees.
Business is business. The Usurer smiles at him and tells him that if they fuck this up they shouldn't bother coming back and then he dismisses him.
TO BE CONTINUED...
