O brave new world, that has such people in't!

The previous day saw the potential deification of a pig, arson, homicide, tampering with (animated) corpses, and the delivery of a sackfull of faces.

The latter is probably not, technically, illegal, but only because nobody sober ever thought that it would be necessary.

But the reputation of Artichoke's Army is growing by leaps and bounds, without question. Not necessarily for the good, perhaps, but one can't have everything.

Artichoke himself is doubtless squirrelled away in his room, counting and recounting coins as he makes increasingly grandious plans for the future....

("I can hire new people! Normal people! People who don't keep gods in their pants, or lust after their own sister, adopt giant pigs, or attempt to sniff the arses of enormous semi-divine dogs!")

...while Treasure wanders in a desultory fashion about the Hall's bar area, leaving a rather horrifying and frankly unsanitary mess in her wake.

There have been several delegations in the past few hours, asking the party's help with some sordid affair or another, as well as a wholly inept attempt to burn the building to the ground by a band of goblins still outraged by the group's 'betrayal' of Sidney Distaff.

(This incident ended with two of the assailants afire, another pair badly beaten and spattered with fluids best left unconsidered, and one particularly unfortunate fellow trampled and partially devoured by Treasure. The whol affair gathered a significant amount of applause from the crowd of hard-drinkers who have taken up semi-permenant residence in the Hall. "We're here for the show," one explained.)

Many question remain for those who would dare ask them, but the most pressing one is this: What now?

OOC: Damn nice title, John. And marvelously appropriate to this group.

And now, without further ado…

* * * * *
The first sign of trouble for the members of the League, or at least something out of the ordinary (by their inimitable standards), is during the abortive and incendiary attack by the goblin malcontents. While the League has tremendous pleasure beating the tar out of the poor goblins, there is something missing from the festivities, namely a burly, bald and often weary presence shouting often-ignored instructions at everyone else. Artichoke isn’t there.

Questioning reveals that he was last seen a couple of hours before dawn, heading out of the tavern with a large sack on his back, fully armed and armored. One of the regulars, who had shown up early (or stayed late – it’s hard to say due to the reek) to see the fun, says, “He looked mighty happy, acshully … yeah, firsht time I shaw the man shmile shince mosta you lot showed up, come to tink of it. And, oh yeah – how aboush a drink for the informashun? And can yoush make that pigsh eat another goblin? That was faaahbulous!”

Checking Artichoke’s room reveals that the League’s founder is definitely missing, as are a number of the limited belongings that he used to keep in his fairly spartan quarters. The reams of notes on combat tactics and self improvement which used to be hung on large wooden boards along the walls are also gone. In fact, essentially all that remains are some old clothes, folded neatly in the corner, and a sealed envelope.

The letter contained within has clearly taken some time to write, with many sections crossed out. It says:

Quote :

“Dear cre friends,

You're probably wondering at this juncture why I have ru am missing. A detailed explanation would be too comp time-consuming, so suffice to say, I am exploring certain pyramid sche possibilities for my the future of the League, which may take a long time to come to fruition, and I would be craz remiss to let make you all fuc waste time awaiting the results. Hence, I shall temporarily be taking my leave, and shall return as soon I am absolutely su able.

It has been a nigh pleasure working with you all and I hope to do so again very shortly. You are all strang competent people and I'm certain will be able to destr keep the League fully functional in my absence. I recommend picking one of your number as scapeg your leader for the moment and continuing the madn fine work that you are doing. Clearly, as the last few days have indicated, there is a role for the League to play in the future of the Port and I expect you to botc make even more of a name for yourself while I am gone. Best of luck.

Yours thankf sincerely,
Captain Artichoke

P.S. The money is in the northeast leg of the bed.

P.P.S. As soon as possible, find Selwyn Mauberly at the Five Fathoms Market. Tell him Artichoke sent you.

P. P. P.S. Pleasedon't try to find me!

As the letter promises, there is a small bag of money in a hidden compartment in the leg of the bed. Even though all the coins within are platinum, there are only thirty of them, totalling a sum less than half of what had been obtained as a reward for Andrealphus.

And some OOC stuff:

I'd like there to be some downtime, or at least the option of some downtime, between where we left off last session and the beginning of the next one, so you guys are free to do whatever you want. I've also got a few possible adventures in mind but am not wedded to any of them, plus there are some very juicy plot threads John already dangled and/or you created, so I'm just going to throw a few options out there soon. Feel free to go after any, all or none of them, depending on personal/group preference, or just pursue some of the things you've been pursuing. In short, I'm easy. We'll just see what happens next, since I have not much more of a clue than any of you.

As the action settles down, Odanais begins to sink back into his depression. He spends much of the day alone in his room, then goes out for most of the night, sometimes bringing a guest back with him, whom he quickly dispatches in the morning. Then he spends some quality time with Treasure the Miracle Pig, talking to her in a low whisper, stroking her face, and trying to make certain that she gets plenty of non-sentient food to eat so that she doesn't develop too strong a taste for meat that used to wear clothing.

Penelope, normally very unconcerned about money, finds herself unhappy with the amount Artichoke has made off with. Oh, well. I'll just take it up with him when he gets back, she thinks. The thought makes her smile slightly. And maybe it's worth not having that bald, bossy man around for a bit.

Other than that, Penelope spends her time threatening any goblins outside the Hall with either her bow, Sappho, or Treasure. Like Odanais, she also gives her attention to the pig, grooming the "beautiful" creature and telling her how cute she is. The archer is spending an unusual amount of time outside of her room, actually.

Treasure, despite her feral appearance, seems surprisingly comfortable being indoors with the members of the League. Especially with Penelope and Odanais, whose attentions she seems to be quite enjoying, though it takes a little time to get her to understand the downsides of her rubbing up against them like Sappho does. The cat, incidentally, she seems a little uncomfortable with, eyeing it warily when it is around.

One thing that both Penelope and Odanais note is that Treasure has one strange mannerism. She will sometimes pause in her movements or sit up from where she is lying and then stare fixedly at a random point in space. Sometimes she slowly shifts her gaze, as if watching a moving object. Whatever she sees doesn't seem to alarm her, but it is certainly intriguing the pig.

But while Treasure seems comfortably settled in, the League has some decisions to make after Artichoke's departure. Do they search for him? Do they look for a new job? Do they take his advice and elect a new leader and/or seek Selwyn Mauberly? And what about the missing money?

Decisions, decisions...

i say we go find this Selwyn Mauberly fellow (streetwise check 26) see what he knows about our missing "leader" and hunt the chickenshit down. i don't mind so much that he left or left with more than his share of the gold, it's that he wasn't man enough to do so face to face.

btw, how much gold should we each have now?

maalvi wrote:

i say we go find this Selwyn Mauberly fellow (streetwise check 26) see what he knows about our missing "leader" and hunt the chickenshit down. i don't mind so much that he left or left with more than his share of the gold, it's that he wasn't man enough to do so face to face.

Finding out who Selwyn Mauberly is doesn't take much effort. The second person whom Asarlai contacts (i.e. the second unfortunate stranger who is accosted by a crotchety old half-elf going, "Who's Selwyn Mauberly? Do you know? Tell me! And speak up! I ain't got all day!") says that he's heard Selwyn is a traveling arms dealer who regularly visits Five Fathoms Market. Maybe Asarlai should check there. And stop jabbing him with his staff. Please?

Those wishing to accompany the old warlock proceed with him to Five Fathoms Market. The League's movement is accompanied by an intermittent chorus of voices, ranging from "Look, it's Artichoke's Army!" to "Come see - it's the Arseholes!" to the more common "Aargh! It's them! Run!" The voices die down gradually as they cross the boundary between the Stagger and the Market district.

They soon arrive at the center of the district, the gigantic open-air market which gives the area its name. Scores of vendors, from the few with permanent multi-storeyed shops to those selling things off the back of a cart, dot the area. Hundreds of customers, guards, onlookers, thieves and the like move around among the shops and displays. All the various races of the Port are on display, as well as some who must be visitors. A small group of people walk by, wearing gossamer veils and with serpentine insignia on their rings which mark them as hailing from the Snake States, followed by a couple of manacled slaves carrying their goods. A tall efreet dressed in voluminous robes, with golden skin and a nimbus of flames around his head, haggles with a merchant nearby. For once, nobody gives the motley collection which is the League a second look.

Except for Selwyn Mauberly, who turns out to be a tall man with a handlebar moustache and beard which covers most of his painfully thin face, sitting at a temporary but well-constructed stall displaying a collection of fine weapons and a few pieces of armor. Two burly and bored looking ogres and a couple of half-elves are in attendance, the latter pair dealing with any customers. Selwyn is seated and watching, but when the League walks up, he rises to his feet. "Welcome, welcome - you must be Asparagus' bunch! You're a day early, but fear not, I have everything ready, as ordered. You are here to collect them, right?" He frowns slightly as he looks around. "And where's that damn fool Asparagus?"

Quote :

btw, how much gold should we each have now?

To be decided shortly. Watch this space.

Anybody saying anything to the nice man? And where's our talkative paladin?

shilsen wrote:

And where's our talkative paladin?

He was sequestering himself in the wine cellar with a cherished bottle of Pernod and his copious notes for the highly eroticized labor propaganda he was writing for the Driftglass Society. Yatagan was deep in thought (not to mention his cups) trying to salvage some that work for his new project: The Porcine Gospels, or The Book of Treasure.

It was rough going. Religion, like comedy, isn't easy.

shilsen wrote:

"Look, it's Artichoke's Army!"

"If you're out of luck or out of work
they'll send you to Johannesburg."

shilsen wrote:

They soon arrive at the center of the district, the gigantic open-air market which gives the area its name.

And the market gets it name from a local saying, "All the shit sold there would fill a hole big as the Market five fathoms deep."

shilsen wrote:

Except for Selwyn Mauberly, who turns out to be a tall man with a handlebar moustache and beard which covers most of his painfully thin face, sitting at a temporary but well-constructed stall displaying a collection of fine weapons and a few pieces of armor.

"So you are "Huge" Selwyn Mauberly, Selwyn of the Bellipotent Armaments..." This goes on for some time as Yatagan rattles off a stream of honorifics, obviously more impressed by the sound of own voice than Selwyen's reputation. Eventually he concludes with "Pleased to meet you. I am Sir Yatagan Fracas. They say you've been to the Grave of Arms".

Not for the first time, a puzzled look crosses Yatagan's face.

"Aren't you supposed to be a giant?"

shilsen wrote:

You are here to collect them, right?"

"Naturally" says the Dragonborn smoothly.

shilsen wrote:

"And where's that damn fool Asparagus?"

"We we hoping you could tell us."

Mallus wrote:

shilsen wrote:

And where's our talkative paladin?

He was sequestering himself in the wine cellar with a cherished bottle of Pernod and his copious notes for the highly eroticized labor propaganda he was writing for the Driftglass Society. Yatagan was deep in thought (not to mention his cups) trying to salvage some that work for his new project: The Porcine Gospels, or The Book of Treasure.

It was rough going. Religion, like comedy, isn't easy.

shilsen wrote:

"So you are "Huge" Selwyn Mauberly, Selwyn of the Bellipotent Armaments..." This goes on for some time as Yatagan rattles off a stream of honorifics, obviously more impressed by the sound of own voice than Selwyen's reputation. Eventually he concludes with "Pleased to meet you. I am Sir Yatagan Fracas. They say you've been to the Grave of Arms".

Not for the first time, a puzzled look crosses Yatagan's face.

"Aren't you supposed to be a giant?"

Selwyn first beams as Yatagan begins his address but the pleased expression slowly turns glassy as the dragonborn shows no signs of pausing. The merchant clears his throat once, then looks questioningly at the others in the League, and then finally just waits.

His expression brightens again when Yatagan eventually runs down. "Ah, so you've heard of me, then?" he says unnecessarily, "And it's Maulberly, with an 'l'. As in Maul?" He waits expectantly for a response, and then sighs and goes on. "Used to be Mauberly, before I found the Puissant Maul. But that's a story for another day. Used to be a giant too, actually. Well, maybe an ogre. I'm not quite certain. It's been a while." Selwyn shrugs. "But on to business..."

shilsen wrote:

Naturally" says the Dragonborn smoothly.

Quote :

"We we hoping you could tell us."

"Huh? I haven't any idea. He showed up very early this morning and dropped off the rest of the payment, but he never said nothing about going anywhere. Anyway, that would be just like him. Never warned anyone when he decided to quit the army either. Not that I can complain, since I was on the way out too. That's how I know old Asparagus. I was Quartermaster Corps. He was footsloggers, I mean infantry. We go way back!"

Selwyn pauses, looks at the expressions around him, and says, "Hmm - anyway, you're here for the special packages then. Let's get to it." He barks a few orders and the ogres and one of the half-elves begin to produce carefully wrapped bundles from a set of large locked boxes at the back of his makeshift shop. Once they have laid them out on a couple of the tables, Selwyn personally opens each one, revealing a thoroughly mismatched collection of weapons, armor, cloaks, amulets and other equipment.

"Now isn't that just beautiful?" he asks, picking up one of the weapons and holding it up to the light. "Got the weapons at the Grave of Arms, I did. Had to shop around for the rest, since I don't normally carry much of this stuff, but anything for a friend, you know? Go on - try them on for size."

While Selwyn is producing the goods, both Heyoka and Penelope notice a man watching the group from behind a vendor's stall a short distance away. The watcher is short and weedy-looking, with a badly made eye-patch, which he keeps fiddling with. Now that they have noticed him, Penelope and Heyoka realize that they saw him a while ago, shortly after entering the district, and a couple of times since as they moved through the Market.


OOC: See the Fifth Session thread in the Treasure and XP forums for details about items, wealth and levels.

Penelope zones out as Yatagan and Selwyn exchange words. She idly picks cat and boar hair off the black material that covers her, only half-listening to the long-winded monologues. Her attention is finally caught when "Asparagus'" acquaintance tells them to see if the new armor fits.

"I'm not trying anything on. Not in public," she says sternly, scowling at Selwyn. "It better fit," Penelope adds before finally catching herself. "I mean, I hope it fits, sorry."

Averting her gaze from him, the young archer notices the man with the eye-patch. "Ugh. Gods. There's some creeper following us," she says, pointing to him. "He's been keeping tabs on us since we've been here. I wonder what possessed that idiot to follow us around."

Penelope wrote:

"I'm not trying anything on. Not in public," she says sternly, scowling at Selwyn. "It better fit," Penelope adds before finally catching herself. "I mean, I hope it fits, sorry."

Selwyn is taken aback for a moment, but then he smiles a little uncertainly and says, "I meant it in a figurative sense, madam." He looks around and then down at one of the packages, each of which appears to have been labeled for a member of the League. Selwyn carefully picks up a folded black cloth and unrolls it to reveal a cloak of gleaming dark material. "Pretty, isn't it?" he says. "Asparagus asked me to make sure it was short enough to wear inside something and that it was black." He glances at the archer but adds nothing more on the subject.

Quote :

Averting her gaze from him, the young archer notices the man with the eye-patch. "Ugh. Gods. There's some creeper following us," she says, pointing to him. "He's been keeping tabs on us since we've been here. I wonder what possessed that idiot to follow us around."

The man with the eye-patch gives a start as he sees Penelope point right at him and then scurries away, ducking behind a row of stalls. Despite the people and other obstructions in the way, he's still visible enough for it to be obvious that he's heading for an alley nearby.

Penelope wrote:

"Ugh. Gods. There's some creeper following us," she says, pointing to him.

With Penelope's assistance Yatagan notices the figure. Eventually.

Quote :

I wonder what possessed that idiot to follow us around."

"Perhaps he is suicidal" says the paladin enthusiastically. "In which case I am honor bound to try and show him of the value of his life". Yatagan turns his back on the package with his name on it and begins to gambol towards the skulking man. "Failing that, it's my moral duty to cash him out".

Turing to his quarry he shouts, "You there, sir! Are you in need of my... attention?"

Mallus wrote:

"Perhaps he is suicidal" says the paladin enthusiastically. "In which case I'm honor bound to try and show him of the value of his life. Failing that, it's my duty to cash him out".

Yatagan ignores the package with his name on it and begins to gambol towards the skulking man. "You there, sir! Are you in need of my... attention?"

The unfortunate man casts a glance behind him at the armor-clad dragonborn following him and promptly gives up any pretension of what he's doing. He breaks into a run, shoving away a couple of people in his way, and disappears into the alley.

The minor commotion draws a little attention from those in the vicinity, especially those who were rudely shoved, but beyond a few curious glances, nobody seems that interested in the League. Yet.


OOC: Yatagan gambolling? That's a vision that should scar a few retinas!

shilsen wrote:

He breaks into a run, shoving away a couple of people in his way, and disappears into the alley.

"Can someone unencumbered by steel plating chase the man down?" inquires Yatagan as he pants at the mouth of the alley.

As Yatagan comes to a halt, he hears the sound of a gasp and then a slightly louder thump of something (a body, perhaps?) hitting the ground somewhere inside the alley. Unfortunately, it's a little too dark within the alley to make out details from the entrance to it.

shilsen wrote:

Unfortunately, it's a little too dark within the alley to make out details from the entrance to it.

Yatagan shoots some fireworks down the alley.

OOC: fireworks, they're not just for arson anymore!

"Heyoka, Odanais, Asarlai, to me! Ms. Pindar, take to a rooftop, if you please. There's trouble in the alley". Astonishingly, the words coming out of the Dragonborn's mouth sound like commands. Unfortunately, his voice sounds eerily like Artichokes, as if the paladin were playing the warlord in some 3rd rate dinner theater production. In Hell.

After lighting his pyrotechnics, Yatagan draws his axe...

Penelope's happiness, prompted by the new cloak, quickly fades as Yatagan gives Artichoke-esque instructions. Oh. How wonderful is this. But despite her scowling and very obvious irritation, the archer takes off to a nearby roof, motioning for Sappho to follow her.

The fireworks illuminate a typical squalid alleyway, littered with the sort of debris usually found in such places. Including a man, either dead, unconscious, drunk, or some combination of these thereof, stretched out and unmoving.

"Captain Artichoke? I'd like to have a word with you."

A very pale man steps literally out of the shadows, irritably brushing away a few lingering bits of darkness adhering to his greatcoat. Squaring his shoulders, he produces a small leather case from somewhere and flips it open to reveal a badge of finely carved and polished bone.

"Vox Cadaveris," he snaps, "Eternal Beareaucracy. I'm here regarding certain irregularities with the pneuma that you people have been causing to manifest on the Other Side."

He pauses at the look of incomprehension which spontaneously manifests on half a dozen faces, and sighs a put-upon sigh.

"Pneuma? Unprocessed souls? The souls of the many, many people that you people have murdered in recent weeks and not properly shriven?" Vox shakes his head. "Dear gods, it's worse than I thought. You've much to answer for, Artichoke!"

He pauses again, looking a little uncertain this time. "So...ah...which of you is the captain, then?"

Mallus wrote:

Yatagan shoots some fireworks down the alley.

People in the vicinity of Yatagan, who had already started looking askance at the rotund dragonborn as he lumbered through them, begin to back away as he produces a couple of narrow tubes. Their movement speeds up as he cheerfully lights them and fires them down the alley, and many break into a run when...

Quote :

After lighting his pyrotechnics, Yatagan draws his axe...

As some members of the League move to join Yatagan and the newcomer called Vox Cadaveris emerges from the shadows, there is a call of, "Hey! What are you bozos up to?!" The tone somehow conspires to be bored and curious at once.

Its source is one of two uniformed individuals, one male and one female, walking towards the group. Each of the uniforms is marked with a brightly colored badge which identifies the wearers as bailiffs working for Lady Lively, evidently the new magistrate of Five Fathoms Market. Two more bailiffs are making their leisurely way towards the group from further into the market.

Rolzup wrote:

"Vox Cadaveris," he snaps, "Eternal Beareaucracy.

"Sir Yatagan Fracas. Paladin of the Dragon Within and member of the Seed of Justice, also known in the vulgate as Artichoke's Army" says Yatagan pleasantly as he stops in front of the freshly-materialized official.

Quote :

The souls of the many, many people that you people have murdered in recent weeks and not properly shriven?"

"Speaking of... there's a body over there. I believe it's the man I've been chasing. Care to have a look with me? To see he's still alive, or in need of shriving."

Quote :

"So...ah...which of you is the captain, then?"

"None of us, I'm afraid. Captain Artichoke is currently... on leave."

Mallus wrote:

"Speaking of... there's a body over there. I believe it's the man I've been chasing. Care to have a look with me? To see he's still alive, or in need of shriving."

"Oh, he's dead, I couldn't possibly miss at that range," Vox says absently, eyeing the approaching bailiffs. "Easier to question that way, I've found. Given a moment, I'll say the proper words, and...absolutely nothing," Vox interrupts himself, calling out to the uniformed pair, "Bureaucracy business, nothing you need concern yourselves with, have a nice day!"

Mallus wrote:

"None of us, I'm afraid. Captain Artichoke is currently... on leave."

"Yes...yes, of course he is. Naturally." Vox sighs, rubbing his temple. "So who's in charge of you people, then?"

As soon as Penelope spots the bailiffs approaching the group, she grumbles to herself and quickly leaves the roof. Well, that was pointless... can't really do anything helpful from here. Sappho follows behind the archer obediently. By the time they rejoin the rest of the party, Vox is trying to dismiss the bailiffs.

"The lizard seems to be assuming responsibility," she says, pointing at Yatagan.

Rolzup wrote:

"Oh, he's dead, I couldn't possibly miss at that range," Vox says absently, eyeing the approaching bailiffs. "Easier to question that way, I've found. Given a moment, I'll say the proper words, and...absolutely nothing," Vox interrupts himself, calling out to the uniformed pair, "Bureaucracy business, nothing you need concern yourselves with, have a nice day!"

The man who just spoke pauses, but this time the woman next to him speaks up, a dark frown crossing her face. "Bureaucracy?" The way she says it, that might as well be a particularly foul expletive. She strides forward, the man following in her wake with a worried expression. "Where's your authorization then?"

Once she has seen Vox's badge, the female bailiff nods curtly, though she looks none the happier. "Fine! But you and your friends better get out of here and stop bothering normal people here." She indicates the milling market. "Maybe get back to the Deadside, eh?" She looks like she might be about to say something else, but then clearly changes her mind, turns and strides away. The male bailiff follows, muttering something to her. Words and phrases like "ghouls" and "damn deaders" float back before they are out of earshot.

The exchange and recent events have drawn some attention, and even with the bailiffs leaving, most people in the near area give the group a wide berth.

Quote :

"Yes...yes, of course he is. Naturally." Vox sighs, rubbing his temple. "So who's in charge of you people, then?"

Penelope wrote:

"The lizard seems to be assuming responsibility," she says, pointing at Yatagan.