COPS & ROBBERS

[Viking Bastard]

Act 6 - Once upon a Time in Harrgard

In his cell in the City Guard lockup Scarran is playing poker with his cellmate, a big thuggish orc named Krunch. He's not doing all that well.

He takes a good look at his hand: the Jack of spades, the two of hearts and then the eights of hearts, diamonds and clubs. He lays his cards on the table. "Three of a kind, beat that."

The orc grins sadistically and reveals his hand: "A pair of queens, I win!"

"No you don't! Three of a kind is higher than a pair."

"No it isn't."

"Yes it is, that's the whole point of a three of a kind, a pair is the lowest hand."

"Yeah, but yer hand is three eights. Eight plus eight plus eight is twenty four. Two queens makes twelve plus twelve which is also twenty four." Krunch looks as he's gonna explode from pride over his mathematical knowledge. "We both have twenty four points."

"Eh? So?"

"I got twenty four with fewer cards, I've got only two while you have three."

"That doesn't matter, my hand is still higher."

"I say no. I win."

"What exactly makes you the referee?!"

The orc stands up, he's so big he has to bend his head so he won't hit it into the roof: "You gnome, I orc. You small, I big."

"Point taken. You win." Scarran throws away the cards onto the table and sighs while the orc greedily grabs his prize, a small candybar Scarran had pinched from one of the guards. "Enjoy it." Krunch already has and burps joyishly..

A guard opens the cell door: "Let's go gnome, there's someone here to see you."

Scarran follows the guard to small round room with only one tiny little window, sunshine flowing in. In the middle of the room there's a small table and two chairs. In one of the chair a tall hooded man sits. The guard pushes him inside: "You've got two minutes."

After making some rude remarks at the guard, the gnome sits down opposite the hooded figure. "What are you doing here, why are you still in Merchant Guild territory? It is said you fled over the border to the Dracani Dynasty."

"Do not worry, with my kinda allies even Carp can't touch me. Come, let's go."

"Go? Are you crazy? We can't just walk out."

"Can't we?"

"Of course not, we're on the third floor here." He falls silent for a minute as Grunt grins a snake's smile. "What are you up to Grunt?"

The guard comes back in: "C'mon gnome, your two minutes are up."

From under his hood Grunt howls: "Duck, fast." He jumps under the table dragging Scarran with him while he throws a grenade in the direction of the window. In blue thunderstone flames debris rains into the room. The blast forms a big hole in the wall where the window used to be. Grunt grabs Scarran under one arm and jumps out.

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The players are examining the hole in the wall when Sergeant Carp arrives. "It's certainly... big." Stickler utters.

Sergeant Carp examines the whole scene for quite some time and seems uneasy. "Why would Grunt go to all this trouble to save a mere servant. It doesn't sound like the Grunt I know."

"Maybe they were friends?" Incognito speculates.

Stickler grins. "Maybe they were more than friends."

While the players share a laugh, Carp asks himself: "There must have been something Grunt needed from him, but what?" He turns to the players. "Boys, try to find out as much as you can about this Scarran. Try asking Hadricht at the Weed, he knows nearly every Gnome in the cipposite thet every gnome over in Smalltown."

 

[Viking Bastard]

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When the players enter the part of the Eastern Ward known as Smalltown it is as everything grows smaller. This is the gnome district. They are greeted by swarms of undersized merchants all trying to sell them something. I isn't until Kurk starts swinging his axe around threatingly that the gnome traders back off. "Get da frick out of here ya lil' buggers!"

The Weed is the most successful tavern in Smalltown, nearly every gnome in Serpent City has been there. Nearly every gnome in the city has gotten drunk there too. It's a big place, that is, there's room there for a lot of people. Or rather, a lot of gnomes. The players have to bend their heads to get in through the main doorway. They can all, except for Kurk who has to bend his knees a little, walk around normally when inside.

Hadricht Hadrichtsson Jr. is the owner of the Weed which was originally founded by his late grandfather, Hadricht Glomsson (which Hadricht is named after. Hadricht's father, Hadricht Hadrichtsson Sr., who owns a small tobacco store in the south end of Smalltown, was named after his great-grandfather Hadricht Glomsson (whose son, Hadricht Hadrichtson Jr.'s great-grandfather, was named Glom Hadrichtsson). Gnomes have never been very original when it comes to names). Back then the Weed wasn't as big and at a different location. When old Hadricht Glomsson died Hadricht Hadrichtson Jr. took over (since Hadrict Hadrichtson Sr. was running his own successful business) and in a year it became the most popular place in Smalltown and moved into it's current place. Nobody knows how Hadricht did it, especially since he didn't really seem to do anything. Some say he puts addictive drugs in the drinks and some say he bribed a powerful wizard to put a spell on the tavern. Most people shut up and just get pissing drunk.

Anyway, the Weed's popularity resulted in that Hadricht hears things and is ready to share knowledge with anyone as long as he has some silver to share in return.

The players walk over to the bar and ask one of the bartender where they can find Hadricht. He directs them down into the wine cellar where Hadricht is going through his inventory.

Hadricht is busy counting wine bottles when they come downstairs. He is so busy that he doesn't notice them until Incognito asks if he knows of a gnome named Scarran. He jumps up in the air and drops a wine bottle onto the floor: "Aaah... don't startle me like that." He looks down at his feet which are soaked in wine from the broken bottle.

"Damn! That's worth five silver crowns ye know."

Incognito repeats the question: "Do you know a gnome named Scarran?"

"I might."

"Well?"

"Well?!? Nuttin' comes free ye know. You'll have to pay for that bottle as well."

"Tell us or I'll break your neck." threatens Kurk.

"Oh please, you don't scare me orc. I know your boss ye know."
Incognito hands Hadricht ten silver crowns. "Sorry about the wine. Now what about Scarran."

"Oh, I know many Scarrans." Hadricht says while counting the crowns. "Got a picture?"

"No."

"Well, so got his father's name?"

"No."

"That makes things a bit difficult I must say. Can you describe him in some way?"

"He's short, scruffy looking, got a big nose and has a short and thin untidy black beard."

"Doesn't really help me, you just described fourth of the city's gnome population." He stares into the air for a second or two while searching his memory banks. "Could be Scarran Thallsson or Scarran Pelksson. Even maybe Scarran Scarransson."

"He's usually really dirty. He's involved in the Brothers of Grunt bandit group."

"That would be Scarran Pelksson. I don't know much about him I'm afraid. He used to hang around here when he first came to town. Then we caught him cheating at cards and banned him from this place. This was before he got involved with those shady characters down in the Lower Wards."

"What shady characters?"

"Orcs mostly, thugs and bandits, like yer friend Grunt for instance. I believe he first met Grunt in one of Toasted-Jack's parties."

"Who is he?"

"Toasted-Jack? He's a pusher, that's what he is, and also a quite successful one I hear. Deals in everything from thunderstone powder to king's weed. He likes to throw parties, although I guess it would be more accurate to call 'em orgies. He's called Toasted-Jack because he smokes his own stuff and isn't exactly the brightest guy in the city. If I recall correctly, he and Scarran were very good friends."

"Where can I find him?"

"I dunno, somewhere down in the Whore District probably, he likes to hold his parties in some of the bordellos there." Hadricht shakes his head in shame. "To think that one of us gnomes will step so low. It's hard to trust those northerners. It's they that give the rest of us honourable gnomes a bad name as little greedy backstabbers."

"Northerners?"

"Yeah, he's not one of us smallfolks, he's one of 'em Harrgard gnomes." The shame in his face turns into impatience and irritation. "Can't trust the lot of 'em I say. Well that's pretty much all I know. Got some more questions? It'll cost you extra!"

"No more questions, no."

"Then get the hell out of my wine cellar."

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[Artoomis]

Nice.

I don't hardly comment at all in Story Hour because it takes away from the storys themselves, but I think you deserve a little positive feedback.

Keep it up.

 

[Horacio]

I would love to see some details about the city. It seems a rather big and cosmopolitan place, in my mind it's a bit like Sigil, if you know what I mean, with flying ships instead of portals. The caps remind me the Harmonium patrols. Do you like Planescape?

 

[Viking Bastard]

Nice.

I don't hardly comment at all in Story Hour because it takes away from the storys themselves, but I think you deserve a little positive feedback.

Keep it up.

Thanks mate.

I would love to see some details about the city. It seems a rather big and cosmopolitan place, in my mind it's a bit like Sigil, if you know what I mean, with flying ships instead of portals. The caps remind me the Harmonium patrols. Do you like Planescape?

I love Planescape. My fav TSR setting by far.

I'll see what I can cook up.

 

[Viking Bastard]

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It took some time for the party to find Toasted-Jack, but they finally located him in a shabby bar named ‘The Troubadour’s Trousers’ down in the Whore District, half-drunk and sleeping with his face lying down in a plate full of somekinda stew.  Kurk kicks Jack’s stool from under him and he falls harshly down onto the floor so he wakes up.  He mutters something about acquiring the money before Friday and then opens his eyes to see three officers of the law standing over him.  He screams: “Capes!”   and jumps onto his feet and tries to get away to freedom by jumping over the table but he fails horribly and tumbles down onto his head. He then tries to crawl away as fast he can.

Picture of Toasted-Jack

But it isn’t fast enough and Kurk grabs him by the back of the neck and pulls him back onto his feet.  He then pushes him into a nearby seat and growls.  Jack goes pale and tries to hide himself in his jacket.

“Where is Scarran?!?”  Kurk growls.

“I-I d-don’t-t kn-now...  how should-d I kn-now?”

“Tell me!”

“I t-told ya, I-I don’t know... really, I-I swear it-t!”

Incognito looks Jack directly in the eyes.  “Ok, do you know what it is that Scarran did for Grunt?  I’d answer truthfully or I’ll be forced to let my partner here take over.”

Kurk cracks his knuckles and smiles.

Toasted-Jack looks like he’s battling the strong urge to sh*t himself.  “Erm... Grunt was looking for some Harrgard gnomes to do some dirty work for him.  For some reason it had to be a Harrgard gnome.  Harrgard gnomes are hard to find in the city except for the gadget merchants over in the serpent.  They tend to stick to home.  Thankfully I knew Scarran.”

“What is this ‘dirty job’?”

“I don’t know, I honestly don’t know.”  But he quickly starts remembering things when he sees Kurk sharpening his axe. ”Aah!  He needed an insider, he was planning on stealing something in Harrgard. He needed someone to get him inside.  That city is more heavily defended than the Kentaarian Emperor’s palace!”

“What was it he was planning to steal?”

“I don’t know!”

“You sure?”  Kurk asks as he swing his axe just in  front of Jack’s nose.

Toasted-Jack screams hysterically:  “YES!  Really!! I honestly don’t know!!! Please don’t hurt me.  PLEASE!!  I don’t know anything more!”   He starts sobbing and his eyes fill with tears.  “I owe someone a lot of money!  If you kill me he’ll just reanimate me as a zombie and force me to work until I can pay the debt.  Please, I don’t want to become a zombie!!”

Incognito tells Kurk to stop tormenting Jack and then they go to meet back with Sergeant Carp, leaving Toasted-Jack behind crying on the floor.

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[Horacio]

Hey, I like the concept of raising somebody back as a zombie to pay off his debts, I think I will steal it for my campaign...

 

[Viking Bastard]

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As the players walk through the city guard headquarters’ main entrance Carp comes running down the stairs from the second floor, apparently in from the Dux’s office.  “C’mon boys, where have you frickin’ been?  Grunt’s aircruiser has been spotted at the northern border heading for the Aaskran wastes.  If he is allowed to sail into the wastes we’ve lost him.  We’ll never be able to find him there.”

“I don’t think he’s going for the wastes sir.”  Stickler says.

“Oh?”

“He’s heading for Harrgard.” And then the players tell Carp of what they have dug up.

Carp nearly bites his cigar in half.  “No frickin’ way!  Nobody can get into Harrgard that easily, I mean, the city withstood an attack by the Kentaarian army fergawdssake.  Only Grunt would try something as suicidal as this!  But we must get there before they do if it turns out it can be done.  We must warn the gnomes.”

“How?”  Incognito asks.  “Isn’t their ship faster than ours?”

“Yeah, but not as fast as the rocket.”

“Da rocket?”  says Kurk.

“The rocket! Follow me boys.”

Carp leads the players down some stairs into the cellar, the armoury.  They walk through two rooms full of guns, blades and armour and then through a room full of barrels of gunpowder.  He moves one of the barrels away from the wall, revealing a door. He opens it and signals the players to walk inside.  Inside there is total darkness, that is until Carp lights an oil lamp that’s hanging on the wall with his cigar.  Now they can see the faint outlines of some huge oval object.

“Is dat da rocket?” Kurk asks.

Carp released a chain that’s been hammered to the wall, opening a hatch in the roof letting sunlight and a ton of dirt into the room.  “Yep. That’s it.”

First now the whole monstrosity can be seen in it’s whole:  gigantic oval steel object, 9 metres long and 3 – 3 ½ metres in diameter, like a huge cigar. It rests on somekinda tracks aimed at the hatch in the roof.  It’s aft end is blue, scorched by the flames of thunderstone fire.  On top of the rocket is a round hatch and beneath it there is a big window.  there are also two portholes on each side.

“It’s basically just an aircruiser engine, without the aircruiser.”  Carp proudly announces.  “It’s damn fast.  Combines state of the art rune smithing and thunderstone science.”  He smiles.  “Step in boys.”

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Pelk Pelksson was a happy gnome, after sixteen years his lost brother finally returned.  “Scarran, I was beginning to think that you’d never return.  Dad always said you’d be back in less than a year, but clearly he was wrong. I only wish he was still here, bless his memory.”

“Damn him.”  Scarran frowns.  “He never believed in me.  He never appreciated me.”

“Well you must understand the difficulties he faced, you didn’t want to choose your future!”

“I wasn’t ready to choose.  I didn’t want to choose from what I was offered.”

“If you didn’t like the thought of being a Tinker like the rest of the family, you could’ve chosen to be a Thinker or even a Tanker.”

“Hah! Good choices that.  Build things, think of things or blow things up.” Every feature in Scarran’s face shows disgust.  “I wanted to do things.”

“Oh well, at least you are ready to choose things now.”  Pelk smiled a optimist’s smile.  “At least you’re here to stay now.”

“I am? No I’m not.  I’m just here to deliver a little gift --”

Just as Scarran released the last word the whole city shook in a huge explosion.  Things fall down from the walls and shelves and both Scarran and Pelk loose their balance and fall down to the floor.

Pelk is terrified:  “What was that?!?”

Scarran grins diabolically.  “That was my gift.”  He slowly stands up.  “And now,” he says as he reaches for his dagger, “I have a gift for you too... dear brother.”

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[Horacio]

A rocket... A gnomic revenge... A city without defense... Will our heroes arrive at time to save them?

I've found an adjetive for your story hour, it's Pulp action. Really pulp action D&D. I love it!

 

[Viking Bastard]

A rocket... A gnomic revenge... A city without defense... Will our heroes arrive at time to save them?

I've found an adjetive for your story hour, it's Pulp action. Really pulp action D&D. I love it!

Pulp Action eh? Hmm.. I like that.

Anyway, no updates for a while sadly. I'm doing this amature theatre thingy and it's close to premiering so I'm a bit busy. I haven't gamed for a month either.