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Story Hour
He's a Chain-Smoking Detective. He's a Robot on the Lam. Together, They Fight Crime!
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<blockquote data-quote="Pell-Mell" data-source="post: 3407652" data-attributes="member: 50273"><p><strong>CASE FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN</strong></p><p><em>Session 1: Out of the City, Into the Desert</em></p><p></p><p>The Orion '23, the pride of the autocart industry of New Lud some 20 years past, roared across the desert.[sup]1[/sup] The unshaven man at the wheel fiddled with the radio, switching between rebel radio stations broadcasting out of the Protectorate[sup]2[/sup] and the screams of ghosts in the ethereal, the dead finding voice in forgotten frequencies. The robot beside him sat silently and stared out the window. </p><p></p><p>They were seven days out of the city of Asheril and almost out of fuel and money. But they weren't out of luck. The day before they caught a break at a nameless crossroad town and found a woman who remembered seeing their quarry several months prior. The woman had pointed them toward Oakford, a little nothing town on the edge of the Vast Waste, and the duo had spared no time in making their way there.</p><p></p><p>The unshaven man lit a cigarette off the end of another, throwing the smoldering butt out the window, and let out a long stream of smoke. Pointing at a rapidly approaching bullet-pocked sign that read "Oakford - 5 Miles: Last Food and Fuel Before Wastes" in sun-faded paint, Dirk said, "Looks like we are almost there. Let's go over what we know one more time, Case." The warforged to his right took out a grimy, dog-eared manila folder from the glove compartment and began sorting through the file. Finding what he wanted, the robot began to rattle off the details of the case file: </p><p></p><ul> <li data-xf-list-type="ul"><strong>Name of Target:</strong> Braford, Isaiah. </li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul"><strong>Designation:</strong> Warrior Priest of the Cult of the Seven Lords of Light. </li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul"><strong>Last Seen:</strong> Three standard months ago. Was supposed to return a month ago.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul"><strong>Reason Given for Leaving:</strong> Religious pilgrimage. </li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul"><strong>Destination:</strong> Unknown.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul"><strong>Mission:</strong> Track down and retrieve Braford.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul"><strong>Requester:</strong> Brother Lusin, Head Priest of the Cult of the Seven Lords of Light.</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul"><strong>Reward</strong>: 500 gp.</li> </ul><p>In his thick metal fingers, Case Nine held a creased photograph of a smiling young man with tussled hair in heavy armor. In the background was some kind of celebration. Beneath the picture, in scrawled cursive, was "Isaiah -- Graduation". The warforged looked at the photo for a few moments before sliding it beneath the rusty paperclip that held it to the file.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p>Less than ten minutes after seeing the sign, the Orion pulled into the small town of Oakhurst. It was late afternoon as the duo cruised down the main street, looking for someone to ask about the lost holy man. Though there were some townsfolk out on the streets, no one raised their eyes to the strangers and those they passed quickly disappeared into buildings.</p><p></p><p>The reason for the reaction of the townsfolk quickly became clear. Almost all of the buildings bore some form of damage from recent battle. Bullet holes stood out on the sides of buildings. The unmistakable circular scorch marks of <em>fireballs</em> marred the main drag. Seeing that no one would talk to them, they drove out of town and circled back, Dirk soon finding what he was looking for: a saloon.</p><p></p><p>Dirk pulled the car up to the front of the saloon, which was called the "Ol' Boar Saloon", and startled a tired looking horse that was tied to the railing. Getting out, Dirk stretched and looked up and down the now deserted street, "Must have got caught in the dust-up between the Protectorate and New Lud a couple of years ago." Suppressing a shiver, he continued, "Hope they didn't have to deal with the fallout from the ghoul-bombing."[sup]3[/sup] Case Nine said nothing as he exited the vehicle and pulled a tattered poncho over his metallic form, his face now lost in the deep shadows of the hood.</p><p></p><p>Nonchalantly adjusting the pistol beneath his leather jacket, Dirk made his way up the creaking wooden stairs and through the batwing doors of the saloon, Case Nine looming behind him. The inside of the saloon was dimly lit by several kerosene lanterns and its few denizens stared from the deep shadows, sizing up the outsiders. An ancient piano hulked in one corner, a small man at the keys ineptly plunking out a tune. The duo made their way across the sawdust covered floor, Dirk sidling up to the bar while Case Nine stood behind him, keeping an eye out for trouble.</p><p></p><p>Lighting a cigarette and ordering a beer, Dirk made small talk with the bartender, an older fellow whose name was Garon. Taking the photograph of Braford from the pocket of his jacket, he slid it across the bar toward Garon, saying "Have you seen this guy? Maybe a couple of months ago? Maybe sooner." The bartender picked up the picture and squinted in the poor light, "Sure did. Came in here fresh from the road maybe a month or so ago. Can't tell you rightly when exactly."</p><p></p><p>The bartender paused for a moment, than continued, "Seemed real interested in some ruins outside of town. Nothing out there but goblins though. And well, the magic apple." Dirk arched an eyebrow, "A magic apple, huh?" Ganon nodded, "Sounds crazy, I know. Every year the goblins from the ruins come out with this apple that is supposed to cure whatever ails you. I don't buy it, but we got a few in town that swear that it cured this or that. Me? I don't trust anything those gobbo's bring up. Just where are they getting an apple in the wastes anyway? It is bad magic, I tell you."</p><p></p><p>Ganon shook the photo of Braford and handed it back to Dirk, "Anyway, this fellah here gets all excited when I mention this apple. He practically runs out of the Boar. I see him talking to a couple of his buddies outside and they take off. I found out later he went to the ruins. No one has seen him since." He paused for a moment and smiled, "Now, I am guessing you are going to want to know where these ruins are?" Dirk smirked at the old man, "You got me." Ganon gave directions to the ruins, which were several miles outside of town and deep within a great rent in the earth. Snuffing out his cigarette in an ashtray, Dirk said his thanks to Ganon and slipped the last of the duo's gold coins across the bar. The bartender snatched the coin with eerily quickness and they vanished just as swiftly into his pockets.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p>Returning to their car, Dirk and Case rode out of town and followed the old man's directions to the ruins. The road there was little more that an overgrown path and progress was slow. Several times they passed the crumbling shells of old buildings and it was more than an hour before they reached the great rift that was their destination. Around this rent stood many leaning stone pillars, aged smooth by weather and time.</p><p></p><p>Dirk parked the Orion and Case got out and opened the trunk. Case Nine pushed aside several dirty blankets and took out a heavy duffel bag. Unzipping it, he began to unload a veritable armory, including Dirk's short sword and his Murlynd's Chainshirt.[sup]4[/sup] Case Nine took out his own Dragon Rifle and quickly checked it over.[sup]5[/sup] He then slung it over his shoulder and took his primary weapon out of the trunk, his greathammer.[sup]6[/sup] Gathering some other miscellaneous supplies, such as food, alchemic items, and ammunition, the two went over to the side of the ravine to determine their decent.</p><p></p><p>Around one of the pillars the duo found a rope tied, but they could not see how far it went down. Dirk activated a sunrod and dropped into the pit, the bright light illuminated a stony outcrop where the rope ended and a crude set of stairs that lead deeper into the earth could be seen. In addition, several huge rats seemed to be lingering near the end of the rope, looking up with beady eyes. Startled by the bright light, the rats bolted into the shadows. Case Nine made his way down the rope, having little to fear from the vermin. As the warforged made his way to the outcrop, the rats surged from their hiding places and attempted to attack the robot. However, the duo made quick work of them as Case Nine slaughtered them with his greathammer and Dirk picked one off with his pistol. He then climbed down to join his friend.</p><p></p><p>Working their way down the stairs, they found several more outcrops in the wall. At the second of these, Dirk called a halt as he noticed something in the dim light filtering down from the surface. After a few moments, he made out something in the vast darkness in front of them. A huge fortress, seemingly sunken whole into the earth, could be seen and it appeared the stairs they were working their way down emptied into a large courtyard in front of the ruin. Descending safety, the duo made their way across the shattered courtyard, scanning either side for any more of the giant rats, and made their way to a massive door that was the entrance to the fortress.</p><p></p><p>After declaring the door free of any traps, Dirk stood aside and Case Nine pushed the great door open. Even before the door was fully open, it became clear that there was something dead in the room beyond, for a great stench issued from the darkness. Dirk, pistol in one hand and sunrod in the other, entered the room, the harsh light of the alchemic rod revealing a grisly scene. Four dead goblins lay strewn about a circular room with two doors, each of the corpses in an advanced state of decay. One still lay pinned to the far wall by the spear that had killed it.</p><p></p><p>Dirk gave a sign to Case Nine to wait for a moment and the warforged did, his greathammer at the ready. When the bodies failed to animate, the duo quickly searched the room and rolled them, finding a few silver coins of unfamiliar mint. However, when Dirk pulled the spear out of the goblin that was pinned to the wall, he found a single word inscribed in the stone beneath. Recognizing the elaborative script to be the tongue of dragons, he read the word to be "Ashardalon". However, the word meant nothing to either Dirk or Case, so they continued further into the ruin.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">* * *</p><p></p><p>Choosing the door to their right, Dirk put his ear to the door and carefully listened. He was surprised when he heard a muffled sound that seemed to be someone weeping. After checking the door for traps and finding none, he carefully opened it and saw a short hallway that had two doors along its length and one at its end. Listening intently, he found that the weeping appeared to be coming from the door at the end of the hallway. Moving as quietly as they could, the duo crept forward toward the sound.</p><p></p><p>Motioning to Case Nine to stand still, Dirk tucked his sunrod beneath his chain shirt and quietly cracked the door. The embers of a dying fire feebly lit a large chamber and Dirk waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Soon he was able to make out a small form huddled next to a fire pit, as well as a nearby iron cage, its bars bent and mangled. Slowing his breathing, he carefully listened as well, only hearing the sleepy mutterings of the cloaked figure and the distant squeal and rustle of what sounded like small animals. His short sword out, the rogue slipped into the room and silently padded his way to the creature sleeping fitfully by the fire.</p><p></p><p>Using the point of his sword to move aside the tattered blanket, Dirk carefully revealed the slumbering creature. In the dim light, he could make out a scrawny kobold, its scaly hide stitched with jagged scars. Giving a signal to Case Nine, the warforged made his way into the room, the clanking of the heavily armored warforged startling the kobold awake. Dirk, who had shifted his sword to the kobold's throat, whispered to the creature, "Do you understand Pell-Mell?"[sup]7[/sup]</p><p></p><p>The kobold nodded and looked at the human and warforged, its eyes filled with surprise and fear. Dirk continued, "We want to ask you a couple questions. Just answer quietly and you won't make us hurt you. We are looking for a human who may have passed through here. He looks like this." He fished the photograph of Braford from beneath his armored shirt and showed it to the kobold, "Seen him?" The kobold nodded and began, "Yes! Yes! The humans came from Above World! But you must speak to the queen!" Dirk turned to the Case Nine, who shrugged, and then back to the kobold, "Get up and take us to her. No funny business, we have no problems with your people. By the way, got a name?" Getting to his feet, the kobold said, "Meepo! Come with me."</p><p></p><p>As he said this, there was a snap from the deeper shadows and then the skittering of dozens of claws on stone. A swarm of squealing rats suddenly appeared and leapt with mad fury onto the duo as the kobold scrambled back in terror. Using his great hammer, Case Nine effortlessly smashed the creatures and sent corpses flying in all directions. Dirk was more deliberate with his blade, skewering the creatures with his short sword. Soon all the rats were dead and the air was filled with stink of blood and death. </p><p></p><p>The kobold looked at the scattered corpses of the rats and then looked back to duo with wide eyes, "You are strong! You can get Calcryx! We go now, we must talk to the queen!"</p><p></p><p></p><p><strong>Notes:</strong></p><p></p><p>[sup]1[/sup] The Orion '23 looks suspiciously like a <a href="http://www.swaqvalley.com/Blueprints/1959_Cadillac_Series_62.jpg" target="_blank">1959 Cadillac Series 62</a>, except it is a hard-top.</p><p>[sup]2[/sup] The Protectorate is a collective of city-states to the west of Asheril known for their strict government and tyrant leaders. </p><p>[sup]3[/sup] A recent war between the city-states of the Protectorate and New Lud was brought to an end when New Lud deployed a hitherto unknown weapon: the ghoul-bomb. The weapon spread a virulent, communicable, air-born form of <a href="http://www.d20srd.org/srd/monsters/ghoul.htm" target="_blank">ghoul fever</a>, causing a massive outbreak of ghouls in a major civilian area.</p><p>[sup]4[/sup] A brand of armor. Murlynd Industries produces a number of high-quality armors made of proprietary alloys. In game mechanics, it is mithral.</p><p>[sup]5[/sup] We use Monte Cook's <a href="http://www.montecook.com/images/Technology.pdf" target="_blank">Firearms Rules</a></p><p>[sup]6[/sup] The greathammer is a custom weapon for the setting and is essentially a massive sledge hammer. In game mechanics, it uses the same statistics as a greataxe, except it is a bludgeoning weapon.</p><p>[sup]7[/sup] Pell-Mell in the most commonly spoken language in the region and the equivalent of Common in the setting.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Pell-Mell, post: 3407652, member: 50273"] [B]CASE FILE 001: THE CASE OF THE MISSING HOLYMAN[/B] [I]Session 1: Out of the City, Into the Desert[/I] The Orion '23, the pride of the autocart industry of New Lud some 20 years past, roared across the desert.[sup]1[/sup] The unshaven man at the wheel fiddled with the radio, switching between rebel radio stations broadcasting out of the Protectorate[sup]2[/sup] and the screams of ghosts in the ethereal, the dead finding voice in forgotten frequencies. The robot beside him sat silently and stared out the window. They were seven days out of the city of Asheril and almost out of fuel and money. But they weren't out of luck. The day before they caught a break at a nameless crossroad town and found a woman who remembered seeing their quarry several months prior. The woman had pointed them toward Oakford, a little nothing town on the edge of the Vast Waste, and the duo had spared no time in making their way there. The unshaven man lit a cigarette off the end of another, throwing the smoldering butt out the window, and let out a long stream of smoke. Pointing at a rapidly approaching bullet-pocked sign that read "Oakford - 5 Miles: Last Food and Fuel Before Wastes" in sun-faded paint, Dirk said, "Looks like we are almost there. Let's go over what we know one more time, Case." The warforged to his right took out a grimy, dog-eared manila folder from the glove compartment and began sorting through the file. Finding what he wanted, the robot began to rattle off the details of the case file: [list] [*][B]Name of Target:[/B] Braford, Isaiah. [*][B]Designation:[/B] Warrior Priest of the Cult of the Seven Lords of Light. [*][B]Last Seen:[/B] Three standard months ago. Was supposed to return a month ago. [*][B]Reason Given for Leaving:[/B] Religious pilgrimage. [*][B]Destination:[/B] Unknown. [*][B]Mission:[/B] Track down and retrieve Braford. [*][B]Requester:[/B] Brother Lusin, Head Priest of the Cult of the Seven Lords of Light. [*][B]Reward[/B]: 500 gp. [/list] In his thick metal fingers, Case Nine held a creased photograph of a smiling young man with tussled hair in heavy armor. In the background was some kind of celebration. Beneath the picture, in scrawled cursive, was "Isaiah -- Graduation". The warforged looked at the photo for a few moments before sliding it beneath the rusty paperclip that held it to the file. [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] Less than ten minutes after seeing the sign, the Orion pulled into the small town of Oakhurst. It was late afternoon as the duo cruised down the main street, looking for someone to ask about the lost holy man. Though there were some townsfolk out on the streets, no one raised their eyes to the strangers and those they passed quickly disappeared into buildings. The reason for the reaction of the townsfolk quickly became clear. Almost all of the buildings bore some form of damage from recent battle. Bullet holes stood out on the sides of buildings. The unmistakable circular scorch marks of [I]fireballs[/I] marred the main drag. Seeing that no one would talk to them, they drove out of town and circled back, Dirk soon finding what he was looking for: a saloon. Dirk pulled the car up to the front of the saloon, which was called the "Ol' Boar Saloon", and startled a tired looking horse that was tied to the railing. Getting out, Dirk stretched and looked up and down the now deserted street, "Must have got caught in the dust-up between the Protectorate and New Lud a couple of years ago." Suppressing a shiver, he continued, "Hope they didn't have to deal with the fallout from the ghoul-bombing."[sup]3[/sup] Case Nine said nothing as he exited the vehicle and pulled a tattered poncho over his metallic form, his face now lost in the deep shadows of the hood. Nonchalantly adjusting the pistol beneath his leather jacket, Dirk made his way up the creaking wooden stairs and through the batwing doors of the saloon, Case Nine looming behind him. The inside of the saloon was dimly lit by several kerosene lanterns and its few denizens stared from the deep shadows, sizing up the outsiders. An ancient piano hulked in one corner, a small man at the keys ineptly plunking out a tune. The duo made their way across the sawdust covered floor, Dirk sidling up to the bar while Case Nine stood behind him, keeping an eye out for trouble. Lighting a cigarette and ordering a beer, Dirk made small talk with the bartender, an older fellow whose name was Garon. Taking the photograph of Braford from the pocket of his jacket, he slid it across the bar toward Garon, saying "Have you seen this guy? Maybe a couple of months ago? Maybe sooner." The bartender picked up the picture and squinted in the poor light, "Sure did. Came in here fresh from the road maybe a month or so ago. Can't tell you rightly when exactly." The bartender paused for a moment, than continued, "Seemed real interested in some ruins outside of town. Nothing out there but goblins though. And well, the magic apple." Dirk arched an eyebrow, "A magic apple, huh?" Ganon nodded, "Sounds crazy, I know. Every year the goblins from the ruins come out with this apple that is supposed to cure whatever ails you. I don't buy it, but we got a few in town that swear that it cured this or that. Me? I don't trust anything those gobbo's bring up. Just where are they getting an apple in the wastes anyway? It is bad magic, I tell you." Ganon shook the photo of Braford and handed it back to Dirk, "Anyway, this fellah here gets all excited when I mention this apple. He practically runs out of the Boar. I see him talking to a couple of his buddies outside and they take off. I found out later he went to the ruins. No one has seen him since." He paused for a moment and smiled, "Now, I am guessing you are going to want to know where these ruins are?" Dirk smirked at the old man, "You got me." Ganon gave directions to the ruins, which were several miles outside of town and deep within a great rent in the earth. Snuffing out his cigarette in an ashtray, Dirk said his thanks to Ganon and slipped the last of the duo's gold coins across the bar. The bartender snatched the coin with eerily quickness and they vanished just as swiftly into his pockets. [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] Returning to their car, Dirk and Case rode out of town and followed the old man's directions to the ruins. The road there was little more that an overgrown path and progress was slow. Several times they passed the crumbling shells of old buildings and it was more than an hour before they reached the great rift that was their destination. Around this rent stood many leaning stone pillars, aged smooth by weather and time. Dirk parked the Orion and Case got out and opened the trunk. Case Nine pushed aside several dirty blankets and took out a heavy duffel bag. Unzipping it, he began to unload a veritable armory, including Dirk's short sword and his Murlynd's Chainshirt.[sup]4[/sup] Case Nine took out his own Dragon Rifle and quickly checked it over.[sup]5[/sup] He then slung it over his shoulder and took his primary weapon out of the trunk, his greathammer.[sup]6[/sup] Gathering some other miscellaneous supplies, such as food, alchemic items, and ammunition, the two went over to the side of the ravine to determine their decent. Around one of the pillars the duo found a rope tied, but they could not see how far it went down. Dirk activated a sunrod and dropped into the pit, the bright light illuminated a stony outcrop where the rope ended and a crude set of stairs that lead deeper into the earth could be seen. In addition, several huge rats seemed to be lingering near the end of the rope, looking up with beady eyes. Startled by the bright light, the rats bolted into the shadows. Case Nine made his way down the rope, having little to fear from the vermin. As the warforged made his way to the outcrop, the rats surged from their hiding places and attempted to attack the robot. However, the duo made quick work of them as Case Nine slaughtered them with his greathammer and Dirk picked one off with his pistol. He then climbed down to join his friend. Working their way down the stairs, they found several more outcrops in the wall. At the second of these, Dirk called a halt as he noticed something in the dim light filtering down from the surface. After a few moments, he made out something in the vast darkness in front of them. A huge fortress, seemingly sunken whole into the earth, could be seen and it appeared the stairs they were working their way down emptied into a large courtyard in front of the ruin. Descending safety, the duo made their way across the shattered courtyard, scanning either side for any more of the giant rats, and made their way to a massive door that was the entrance to the fortress. After declaring the door free of any traps, Dirk stood aside and Case Nine pushed the great door open. Even before the door was fully open, it became clear that there was something dead in the room beyond, for a great stench issued from the darkness. Dirk, pistol in one hand and sunrod in the other, entered the room, the harsh light of the alchemic rod revealing a grisly scene. Four dead goblins lay strewn about a circular room with two doors, each of the corpses in an advanced state of decay. One still lay pinned to the far wall by the spear that had killed it. Dirk gave a sign to Case Nine to wait for a moment and the warforged did, his greathammer at the ready. When the bodies failed to animate, the duo quickly searched the room and rolled them, finding a few silver coins of unfamiliar mint. However, when Dirk pulled the spear out of the goblin that was pinned to the wall, he found a single word inscribed in the stone beneath. Recognizing the elaborative script to be the tongue of dragons, he read the word to be "Ashardalon". However, the word meant nothing to either Dirk or Case, so they continued further into the ruin. [CENTER]* * *[/CENTER] Choosing the door to their right, Dirk put his ear to the door and carefully listened. He was surprised when he heard a muffled sound that seemed to be someone weeping. After checking the door for traps and finding none, he carefully opened it and saw a short hallway that had two doors along its length and one at its end. Listening intently, he found that the weeping appeared to be coming from the door at the end of the hallway. Moving as quietly as they could, the duo crept forward toward the sound. Motioning to Case Nine to stand still, Dirk tucked his sunrod beneath his chain shirt and quietly cracked the door. The embers of a dying fire feebly lit a large chamber and Dirk waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Soon he was able to make out a small form huddled next to a fire pit, as well as a nearby iron cage, its bars bent and mangled. Slowing his breathing, he carefully listened as well, only hearing the sleepy mutterings of the cloaked figure and the distant squeal and rustle of what sounded like small animals. His short sword out, the rogue slipped into the room and silently padded his way to the creature sleeping fitfully by the fire. Using the point of his sword to move aside the tattered blanket, Dirk carefully revealed the slumbering creature. In the dim light, he could make out a scrawny kobold, its scaly hide stitched with jagged scars. Giving a signal to Case Nine, the warforged made his way into the room, the clanking of the heavily armored warforged startling the kobold awake. Dirk, who had shifted his sword to the kobold's throat, whispered to the creature, "Do you understand Pell-Mell?"[sup]7[/sup] The kobold nodded and looked at the human and warforged, its eyes filled with surprise and fear. Dirk continued, "We want to ask you a couple questions. Just answer quietly and you won't make us hurt you. We are looking for a human who may have passed through here. He looks like this." He fished the photograph of Braford from beneath his armored shirt and showed it to the kobold, "Seen him?" The kobold nodded and began, "Yes! Yes! The humans came from Above World! But you must speak to the queen!" Dirk turned to the Case Nine, who shrugged, and then back to the kobold, "Get up and take us to her. No funny business, we have no problems with your people. By the way, got a name?" Getting to his feet, the kobold said, "Meepo! Come with me." As he said this, there was a snap from the deeper shadows and then the skittering of dozens of claws on stone. A swarm of squealing rats suddenly appeared and leapt with mad fury onto the duo as the kobold scrambled back in terror. Using his great hammer, Case Nine effortlessly smashed the creatures and sent corpses flying in all directions. Dirk was more deliberate with his blade, skewering the creatures with his short sword. Soon all the rats were dead and the air was filled with stink of blood and death. The kobold looked at the scattered corpses of the rats and then looked back to duo with wide eyes, "You are strong! You can get Calcryx! We go now, we must talk to the queen!" [B]Notes:[/B] [sup]1[/sup] The Orion '23 looks suspiciously like a [URL=http://www.swaqvalley.com/Blueprints/1959_Cadillac_Series_62.jpg]1959 Cadillac Series 62[/URL], except it is a hard-top. [sup]2[/sup] The Protectorate is a collective of city-states to the west of Asheril known for their strict government and tyrant leaders. [sup]3[/sup] A recent war between the city-states of the Protectorate and New Lud was brought to an end when New Lud deployed a hitherto unknown weapon: the ghoul-bomb. The weapon spread a virulent, communicable, air-born form of [URL=http://www.d20srd.org/srd/monsters/ghoul.htm]ghoul fever[/URL], causing a massive outbreak of ghouls in a major civilian area. [sup]4[/sup] A brand of armor. Murlynd Industries produces a number of high-quality armors made of proprietary alloys. In game mechanics, it is mithral. [sup]5[/sup] We use Monte Cook's [URL=http://www.montecook.com/images/Technology.pdf]Firearms Rules[/URL] [sup]6[/sup] The greathammer is a custom weapon for the setting and is essentially a massive sledge hammer. In game mechanics, it uses the same statistics as a greataxe, except it is a bludgeoning weapon. [sup]7[/sup] Pell-Mell in the most commonly spoken language in the region and the equivalent of Common in the setting. [/QUOTE]
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