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<blockquote data-quote="ThirdWizard" data-source="post: 6626543" data-attributes="member: 12037"><p><strong>Session Two - The Mad House</strong></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>A thick smog rolled over Steelarm Street, drifting down straight from the Great Foundry’s iron stacks themselves, ash gently falling downward like flakes of black and gray snow. Here in the Lower Ward, the Speckled Rat, a small underground (literally) bar, was a favored meeting place of the Godsmen who pounded metal all day. They worked the foundry without pause to make all sorts of useful tools, weapons, armors, and trinkets. Mozzy was still not quite where her superiors wanted her to be in that regard. She had been working there for a good seven months as an apprentice to Factotum Colborn, a strict bariaur who was a master crafter. He said she was improving, but she didn’t see it. Even today’s work was merely melted for slag after she had finished with it. Doing this day in and day out was exhausting. But, the Factotum said her mind was sharper after every day’s work. Whatever that meant.</p><p></p><p>As she made it to the entrance of the Speckled Rat a bubber with a gnarled mouth and a long nose jingled a tin can for some jink. She passed him by pretending not to notice. Heading down the stairs, she let her eyes adjust to the low light of the bar and took a look around. It was starting to fill up, as was usual after a shift’s end at the Great Foundry. Her friends hadn’t arrived yet, so she claimed a table for them, pulling out the note that had been delivered to her an hour ago, hopefully about a new job and something that paid better than her weekly five silver that she got working in the Foundry.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><em>We’re meeting you at the Rat. Something going down.</em></p> <p style="text-align: center"><em>-Mehen</em></p><p></p><p>Behind her she could hear two patrons arguing about whether the powers deserved worship. Turning her head just a bit, she saw a tattooed man with a Guvner amulet around his neck and a tiefling woman facing away from her, gesticulating to the man. From their argument, Mozzy thought she was probably Athar. At the bar there were two men and a woman, one already passed out and barely hanging onto the barstool and the other crying over some trinket. The tiefling woman didn’t seem to be touching the tall mug in front of her. All of them were Godsmen. Five cutters were conspiring in a corner, probably about some kind of score they were going after, and a group of four Godsmen were in another corner talking in hushed whispers, probably gossiping from the expressions passing over their faces. Finally, in the center of the room there was a table of Godsmen gambling over some dice and a lone scaly woman with a cockatrice on a leash who looked to want to be left alone.</p><p></p><p>It was a pretty typical day in the Speckled Rat.</p><p></p><p>Mozzy ordered a drink for herself and waited. A couple more patrons entered and sat down at the bar, a heavily cloaked man and a hunched over woman who laughed at the bartender’s far too much to be sincere. After a few more minutes some Dustmen came in, offering a little jink to the down and out members of the bar if they’d sign one of the Dustman Contracts they had prepared. It wasn’t a bad deal for an out and out bubber. They pay up front, and then when you die your body belongs to them. It’s not like you need it after you’re in the Dead Book. Still, no one took them up on the offer today, and they made their way out without another word.</p><p></p><p>Aurian was the first of the group to show up. He slid into the seat beside Mozzy and ordered a beer of his own. “Got a note from Jer to meet here, too?” He questioned as he checked out the other patrons, a peery look on his face. When his mug arrived, he took a quick look at it and decided discretion was the better part of valor, pushing it away slightly.</p><p></p><p>Mozzy finished off her mug and raised her finger for another. “Mehen. Odd.” Those two rarely confided in each other. In fact, Jer talked to Mehen as little as possible outside of their jobs, and even on their jobs he was tight lipped with the Guvner. The less Mehen knew about Jer’s ‘side projects’ the better.</p><p></p><p>“Must be something weird this time. Maybe we’re looking for a portal to a Prime world or something.”</p><p></p><p>“Who’d want to go to such a backwater Clueless-” Mozzy cut herself off. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Aurian and Jer were from Prime Material Planes. Pejoratives probably weren’t appreciated. Even if it were true. “We’ll find out soon enough. There’s Mehen.” She motioned to the dragonborn with her mug.</p><p></p><p>Mehen slowly descended into the bar as his eyes adjusted to the light, taking up a seat across from the other two and ordering a mug of his own. “So, you needed to see me?” he asked Mozzy. “What’s this about?”</p><p></p><p>Mozzy just slid the note she had received to the dragonborn. Aurian got a bad feeling. The wizard started watching every move the other patrons made. Three of the cutters in the corner went to the bar to order some more drinks. The argument between the Guvner and Athar was becoming more heated. The cockatrice on a string was a cockatrice on a string.</p><p></p><p>Mehen scowled. Dragonborn were good at scowling. “That’s my handwriting, but I didn’t write that. I’m starting to think we need to get out of here.”</p><p></p><p>“That sounds like a good idea to me,” replied Aurian. “What about Jer?”</p><p></p><p>“He’s good at watching his own back,” said Mehen in a matter-of-fact manner.</p><p></p><p>While they were talking, one of the cutters started making his way toward the two arguing, a resolute look on his face. Before anyone could do anything, as he was passing the table of Godsmen, he grabbed one of them, a smaller one, and rolled on the ground with him, pinning him down. That was apparently the cue, as the two at the bar turned, crossbows appearing from under cloaks and shot two other Godsmen dead. The last, mouth agape, simply sat there unable to move. At the top of the stairs, they could see a man with a crooked smile and a long nose with another crossbow, aiming to take a shot at the last Godsman.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="ThirdWizard, post: 6626543, member: 12037"] [B]Session Two - The Mad House[/B] A thick smog rolled over Steelarm Street, drifting down straight from the Great Foundry’s iron stacks themselves, ash gently falling downward like flakes of black and gray snow. Here in the Lower Ward, the Speckled Rat, a small underground (literally) bar, was a favored meeting place of the Godsmen who pounded metal all day. They worked the foundry without pause to make all sorts of useful tools, weapons, armors, and trinkets. Mozzy was still not quite where her superiors wanted her to be in that regard. She had been working there for a good seven months as an apprentice to Factotum Colborn, a strict bariaur who was a master crafter. He said she was improving, but she didn’t see it. Even today’s work was merely melted for slag after she had finished with it. Doing this day in and day out was exhausting. But, the Factotum said her mind was sharper after every day’s work. Whatever that meant. As she made it to the entrance of the Speckled Rat a bubber with a gnarled mouth and a long nose jingled a tin can for some jink. She passed him by pretending not to notice. Heading down the stairs, she let her eyes adjust to the low light of the bar and took a look around. It was starting to fill up, as was usual after a shift’s end at the Great Foundry. Her friends hadn’t arrived yet, so she claimed a table for them, pulling out the note that had been delivered to her an hour ago, hopefully about a new job and something that paid better than her weekly five silver that she got working in the Foundry. [CENTER][I]We’re meeting you at the Rat. Something going down. -Mehen[/I][/CENTER] Behind her she could hear two patrons arguing about whether the powers deserved worship. Turning her head just a bit, she saw a tattooed man with a Guvner amulet around his neck and a tiefling woman facing away from her, gesticulating to the man. From their argument, Mozzy thought she was probably Athar. At the bar there were two men and a woman, one already passed out and barely hanging onto the barstool and the other crying over some trinket. The tiefling woman didn’t seem to be touching the tall mug in front of her. All of them were Godsmen. Five cutters were conspiring in a corner, probably about some kind of score they were going after, and a group of four Godsmen were in another corner talking in hushed whispers, probably gossiping from the expressions passing over their faces. Finally, in the center of the room there was a table of Godsmen gambling over some dice and a lone scaly woman with a cockatrice on a leash who looked to want to be left alone. It was a pretty typical day in the Speckled Rat. Mozzy ordered a drink for herself and waited. A couple more patrons entered and sat down at the bar, a heavily cloaked man and a hunched over woman who laughed at the bartender’s far too much to be sincere. After a few more minutes some Dustmen came in, offering a little jink to the down and out members of the bar if they’d sign one of the Dustman Contracts they had prepared. It wasn’t a bad deal for an out and out bubber. They pay up front, and then when you die your body belongs to them. It’s not like you need it after you’re in the Dead Book. Still, no one took them up on the offer today, and they made their way out without another word. Aurian was the first of the group to show up. He slid into the seat beside Mozzy and ordered a beer of his own. “Got a note from Jer to meet here, too?” He questioned as he checked out the other patrons, a peery look on his face. When his mug arrived, he took a quick look at it and decided discretion was the better part of valor, pushing it away slightly. Mozzy finished off her mug and raised her finger for another. “Mehen. Odd.” Those two rarely confided in each other. In fact, Jer talked to Mehen as little as possible outside of their jobs, and even on their jobs he was tight lipped with the Guvner. The less Mehen knew about Jer’s ‘side projects’ the better. “Must be something weird this time. Maybe we’re looking for a portal to a Prime world or something.” “Who’d want to go to such a backwater Clueless-” Mozzy cut herself off. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Aurian and Jer were from Prime Material Planes. Pejoratives probably weren’t appreciated. Even if it were true. “We’ll find out soon enough. There’s Mehen.” She motioned to the dragonborn with her mug. Mehen slowly descended into the bar as his eyes adjusted to the light, taking up a seat across from the other two and ordering a mug of his own. “So, you needed to see me?” he asked Mozzy. “What’s this about?” Mozzy just slid the note she had received to the dragonborn. Aurian got a bad feeling. The wizard started watching every move the other patrons made. Three of the cutters in the corner went to the bar to order some more drinks. The argument between the Guvner and Athar was becoming more heated. The cockatrice on a string was a cockatrice on a string. Mehen scowled. Dragonborn were good at scowling. “That’s my handwriting, but I didn’t write that. I’m starting to think we need to get out of here.” “That sounds like a good idea to me,” replied Aurian. “What about Jer?” “He’s good at watching his own back,” said Mehen in a matter-of-fact manner. While they were talking, one of the cutters started making his way toward the two arguing, a resolute look on his face. Before anyone could do anything, as he was passing the table of Godsmen, he grabbed one of them, a smaller one, and rolled on the ground with him, pinning him down. That was apparently the cue, as the two at the bar turned, crossbows appearing from under cloaks and shot two other Godsmen dead. The last, mouth agape, simply sat there unable to move. At the top of the stairs, they could see a man with a crooked smile and a long nose with another crossbow, aiming to take a shot at the last Godsman. [/QUOTE]
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