EPISODE 05
In order to obtain the information they need to locate Alexandra, the Strangelight Investigators make a dangerous deal with a Bog Trog leader. Follow our team as they battle for their lives against the fearsome undead. Meanwhile in Corvis, another player enters the great game.
Episode Title: The Dead Walk
Main Characters: Magnus, Selene, Derby, Kaar, and Alexandra Support Characters: Nosk, Grinder, & Ancel Klein Game Date: 9/17/16 |
* Special Note: Anything written in dark red was NOT actually played out in-game by the Players; but still occurred "off-screen", if you will. That being said, it is still vitally important to the overall story, which is why I have included it in the narrative. -GM

The cave was dark. Her cell was disgusting; pieces of decaying flesh and warped bones covered the floor, indiscriminately lying wherever the previous inhabitants died and were left to rot. The smell was nearly overwhelming, putrid, and vomit-inducing. This was a place where people lost all hope. This was a place of death. The sheer amount of dread she felt just from being here was nearly too much to bear. Alexandra Raines quietly positioned herself so her chains fell on her lap, heavy and cold. She managed to manipulate her body into a kneeling posture without making a disturbance. She was very careful, as any noise she made meant the guards would come and check on her. And the guard visits were not pleasant. Satisfied she had moved without alerting anyone, the Priestess of Morrow bowed her head and began to pray. Her faith was unshakably strong, but if ever it was put to the test, it was certainly now. Alexandra prayed for fortitude and for hope; the two things she needed to help her get through this hellish experience. Her prayers were silent but heartfelt. Raines was an unapologetic, devout follower of Morrow. She truly believed that when she called to him, the god-ascendant heard her prayers. Despite the Church Elders seeing her as being deviant, misguided, and selfish, Alexandra's faith never wavered. Her desire to learn the fighting style of the Menites instead of the traditional techniques of Cygnar and warrior-priests of the faith, labeled her deviant. Her unconditional love and affection for the poor and destitute of Immoran; those without a copper piece to their name regardless of the sinful ways they lost it, labeled her misguided. And her blind devotion to her friend Magnus and his desires to explore the world without giving any thought to giving back to the Order that raised and trained them both, labeled her selfish. If it was not for her father, a well-respected statesman in the Fraternal Order of Wizardry, she was reasonably certain the clergy proper would shun her completely.
In truth, Alexandra found the entire situation hypocritical. The Morrowan faith was founded on the principles of acceptance, tolerance, and less strict rules and regulations than many other religions of the world. One would think her ideas and guiding principles would be lauded, not viewed with contempt or privately condemned. It made little sense to her when she sat down and really thought about it. It's one of the reasons Maggy felt her unyielding devotion was a waste of her time. But then, who's to say she wasn't the one that was seeing it wrong. Maybe she was the one with the problem after all. Differences she viewed as inconsequential in the grand scheme may have been much more important than she realized. Alexandra Raines really didn't know; and most of the time, she didn't care enough to argue it anymore. She would follow her own heart and her own mind, like her mother did before her. She prayed for guidance and understanding, as always. Alexandra had other plans anyway. Plans she couldn't share with anyone except her brother. But right now, there were much more concerning things to think about. On the top of the list was staying alive long enough for her friends to come rescue her. She had absolute faith they would come; it was more a matter of whether or not they would reach her before it was too late. As she finished her prayers, Raines could see a light outside her window. It was getting brighter, and seemed to be heading toward her cell. The priestess quickly grabbed the chains and rearranged them along with her body into the helpless looking sitting position the guards seemed to prefer. She closed her eyes and tucked the necklace with the symbol of Morrow underneath her shirt, awaiting what would surely be her next flogging.
In truth, Alexandra found the entire situation hypocritical. The Morrowan faith was founded on the principles of acceptance, tolerance, and less strict rules and regulations than many other religions of the world. One would think her ideas and guiding principles would be lauded, not viewed with contempt or privately condemned. It made little sense to her when she sat down and really thought about it. It's one of the reasons Maggy felt her unyielding devotion was a waste of her time. But then, who's to say she wasn't the one that was seeing it wrong. Maybe she was the one with the problem after all. Differences she viewed as inconsequential in the grand scheme may have been much more important than she realized. Alexandra Raines really didn't know; and most of the time, she didn't care enough to argue it anymore. She would follow her own heart and her own mind, like her mother did before her. She prayed for guidance and understanding, as always. Alexandra had other plans anyway. Plans she couldn't share with anyone except her brother. But right now, there were much more concerning things to think about. On the top of the list was staying alive long enough for her friends to come rescue her. She had absolute faith they would come; it was more a matter of whether or not they would reach her before it was too late. As she finished her prayers, Raines could see a light outside her window. It was getting brighter, and seemed to be heading toward her cell. The priestess quickly grabbed the chains and rearranged them along with her body into the helpless looking sitting position the guards seemed to prefer. She closed her eyes and tucked the necklace with the symbol of Morrow underneath her shirt, awaiting what would surely be her next flogging.

As the companions surveyed the Bog Trog camp, it was Kaar Ironfist who once again puffed out his chest and boldly strode to the edge of the gutted village with the confidence of one who belonged there. "Ho! In the village!" he shouted with his Rhulish accent in the Cygnaran tongue, unsure if anyone would even understand him. It was at exactly this point that he thought about what he had just done. If they didn't understand him, what would make the creatures think he wasn't there issuing a challenge? Until now, he hadn't thought of that possibility. To make matters worse, Selene was standing directly behind him, her great sword strapped to her back in all its menacing glory. Had he just rushed into another situation without thinking it completely through? At least neither of them had their weapons drawn; that was a plus. As he stood there contemplating how a different approach may have been wiser, Kaar unconsciously backed up a step.
But as he looked around and watched the reaction of the villagers, the dwarf realized his doubts were for naught. The trogs not only didn't approach he and Selene aggressively; they backed away as if frightened. Kaar scratched his chin and looked at Selene a bit confounded. These Bog Trogs were every bit of seven feet tall and imposing creatures to say the least. They had a good foot on Selene and over two feet on Kaar. And a single trog easily weighed equal to or greater than the two companions put together. Selene watched the creature's actions intently and nudged the negotiator with her elbow. "Continue speaking," she suggested.
Kaar nodded and continued. "We are here to meet with Nosk. We wish to converse with your Myst Speaker."
For at least five minutes nothing occurred. Trogs continued to keep their distance, some even retreating into their huts or tents. Both the dwarf and elf stood there patiently, waiting to see if anything would happen or anyone would appear. From the treeline, Magnus crouched down and waited. He had his spyglass out but could see nothing out of the ordinary or even remotely threatening. Derby, even further back, just leaned up against a tree and watched. About a minute later from the treeline to the north, a large Bog Trog finally exited the forest that clearly matched the description Vix had given Kaar of the tribe leader named Nosk. Even from far away, the Myst Speaker was an imposing sight. The Bog Trog had to be every bit of 8 feet tall, easily as big as an Ogrun, albeit not as broad. Two old pistols hung from a holster around his waist, talismans of all shapes and sizes adorned his armor, and the power of magic practically emanated from his body. As he got closer to the companions, they could see him more clearly. Nosk was limping badly, bandages covering his arms and legs. His left eye had a crude patch over it, residue from a creamy discharge crusted on his amphibious face from the apparent wound. Imposing as he was, this Trog was the very definition of a walking injury. He looked beaten and tired. As Selene sized him up, she could only imagine what he had been through over the past several days. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. As Nosk got to within fifteen feet of the investigators, he stopped and leaned on a walking staff. "Someone called for me?" he asked in a passable Cygnaran tongue.
In order to establish a show of respect, Kaar spoke up before Selene had a chance to blow the entire conversation in a matter of seconds. "Hail great Nosk!" he said. "Thank you fer meetin' with us."
"Hail yourself, bearded one," the trog replied, his voice raspy but melodic for an 8 foot tall, amphibian monster who looked like he might keel over any minute from exhaustion. Looking over his shoulder, he yelled something in a language Kaar nor Selene understood, and two trogs that had been stealthily hidden behind a nearby hut came out into the open, standing tall but resting their giant spears on the ground.
What followed for the next hour was a conversation between Nosk and the four companions that focused on Kaar trying to illicit any information he could from the trog leader that related to the whereabouts of Alexandra Raines. Unfortunately for the team, the Myst Speaker proved to be extremely difficult to negotiate with, even for the gifted Searforge Trader. When all was said and done, Kaar had managed little in the way of finding out anything new related to Alex. What the companions did ascertain however, was why the trog village was in such shambles and looked like it had been devastated by a warjack on a rampage. Nosk educated the group on his camp's misfortune of being the target of his most hated adversary, Gosag the Deformed. The trog that used to serve the tribe as one of their fiercest warriors had fell in league with Taloc years ago, and had slowly been transforming into the malignant, altered monster he was today. Equally skilled in an appalling trade known as 'bone grinding' as well as being a soldier of great merit, Gosag had spent the past week raiding Nosk's village with the necromantic spirits of the swamp. These tireless undead troops, led by the Bone Grinder himself, were slowly but surely laying waste to the village and capturing or killing his people. His story garnered a great deal of sympathy from the Investigators, and resulted in a pact being made between the groups. Kaar, Selene, Magnus, and Derby would stay in the village and help them rebuild throughout the day. In addition to that, the companions would bring their skills to bear and help repel the enemy and hopefully destroy the undead horde that very night. In exchange for their aid, Nosk would share every bit of knowledge he had on where Alexandra was being kept and the best way to rescue her from the evil incarnate that was the Gatorman Bokor, Taloc. A deal struck, the companions assisted the Bog Trogs with repairs, fortified the village for the coming attack, and prepared themselves for what they expected to be the greatest physical encounter of their lives.
But as he looked around and watched the reaction of the villagers, the dwarf realized his doubts were for naught. The trogs not only didn't approach he and Selene aggressively; they backed away as if frightened. Kaar scratched his chin and looked at Selene a bit confounded. These Bog Trogs were every bit of seven feet tall and imposing creatures to say the least. They had a good foot on Selene and over two feet on Kaar. And a single trog easily weighed equal to or greater than the two companions put together. Selene watched the creature's actions intently and nudged the negotiator with her elbow. "Continue speaking," she suggested.
Kaar nodded and continued. "We are here to meet with Nosk. We wish to converse with your Myst Speaker."
For at least five minutes nothing occurred. Trogs continued to keep their distance, some even retreating into their huts or tents. Both the dwarf and elf stood there patiently, waiting to see if anything would happen or anyone would appear. From the treeline, Magnus crouched down and waited. He had his spyglass out but could see nothing out of the ordinary or even remotely threatening. Derby, even further back, just leaned up against a tree and watched. About a minute later from the treeline to the north, a large Bog Trog finally exited the forest that clearly matched the description Vix had given Kaar of the tribe leader named Nosk. Even from far away, the Myst Speaker was an imposing sight. The Bog Trog had to be every bit of 8 feet tall, easily as big as an Ogrun, albeit not as broad. Two old pistols hung from a holster around his waist, talismans of all shapes and sizes adorned his armor, and the power of magic practically emanated from his body. As he got closer to the companions, they could see him more clearly. Nosk was limping badly, bandages covering his arms and legs. His left eye had a crude patch over it, residue from a creamy discharge crusted on his amphibious face from the apparent wound. Imposing as he was, this Trog was the very definition of a walking injury. He looked beaten and tired. As Selene sized him up, she could only imagine what he had been through over the past several days. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. As Nosk got to within fifteen feet of the investigators, he stopped and leaned on a walking staff. "Someone called for me?" he asked in a passable Cygnaran tongue.
In order to establish a show of respect, Kaar spoke up before Selene had a chance to blow the entire conversation in a matter of seconds. "Hail great Nosk!" he said. "Thank you fer meetin' with us."
"Hail yourself, bearded one," the trog replied, his voice raspy but melodic for an 8 foot tall, amphibian monster who looked like he might keel over any minute from exhaustion. Looking over his shoulder, he yelled something in a language Kaar nor Selene understood, and two trogs that had been stealthily hidden behind a nearby hut came out into the open, standing tall but resting their giant spears on the ground.
What followed for the next hour was a conversation between Nosk and the four companions that focused on Kaar trying to illicit any information he could from the trog leader that related to the whereabouts of Alexandra Raines. Unfortunately for the team, the Myst Speaker proved to be extremely difficult to negotiate with, even for the gifted Searforge Trader. When all was said and done, Kaar had managed little in the way of finding out anything new related to Alex. What the companions did ascertain however, was why the trog village was in such shambles and looked like it had been devastated by a warjack on a rampage. Nosk educated the group on his camp's misfortune of being the target of his most hated adversary, Gosag the Deformed. The trog that used to serve the tribe as one of their fiercest warriors had fell in league with Taloc years ago, and had slowly been transforming into the malignant, altered monster he was today. Equally skilled in an appalling trade known as 'bone grinding' as well as being a soldier of great merit, Gosag had spent the past week raiding Nosk's village with the necromantic spirits of the swamp. These tireless undead troops, led by the Bone Grinder himself, were slowly but surely laying waste to the village and capturing or killing his people. His story garnered a great deal of sympathy from the Investigators, and resulted in a pact being made between the groups. Kaar, Selene, Magnus, and Derby would stay in the village and help them rebuild throughout the day. In addition to that, the companions would bring their skills to bear and help repel the enemy and hopefully destroy the undead horde that very night. In exchange for their aid, Nosk would share every bit of knowledge he had on where Alexandra was being kept and the best way to rescue her from the evil incarnate that was the Gatorman Bokor, Taloc. A deal struck, the companions assisted the Bog Trogs with repairs, fortified the village for the coming attack, and prepared themselves for what they expected to be the greatest physical encounter of their lives.

Ancel Klein exited the dark alley with a wide grin on his face. The human bookie just procured a wager that could land him more coin than he had seen in months. Quickly, he made his way toward the dockyards, trying as hard as he could to not walk so fast as to draw unwanted attention. The sun was starting to set, and to be out at the docks after dark in the city of Corvis was not the wisest thing for a lone human carrying a bag of money the likes that Ancel currently had in his possession. He was known in the district, sure. But there were enough idiots in this one city to populate most small countries, Klein thought to himself. If just one of those morons decided to gut him and steal his money, it wouldn't really matter how the fool was punished after Ancel was dead. No, he had to be careful. Lockheart would be pleased at the wager he just made; and he wanted so badly to please the 'Punching Pit' owner.
A few minutes passed when a second figure exited the alley Klein had left just moments ago. The shadow he cast against the setting sun was nothing short of enormous. Standing just a hair over 7 feet tall and tipping the scales at a solid 340 pounds, the Trollkin named Grinder Stonetongue picked at his chin calcifications as he pulled his furred armor up around his neck. He squinted his eyes to see if anyone was skulking about. Grinder's eyesight was already nothing to write home about, but dusk made it even harder for him to see clearly. Satisfied he was now alone, the Trollkin began to hum an old Kriel song he remembered from his childhood. He had a tendency to do this when he was feeling good; and right now, the muscular Pugilist was feeling quite good. Betting on himself in a bare-knuckle fight was always a risky proposition, and Grinder knew it. But he had a feeling about tomorrow night. The dream he had the night before last predicted he was going to win; and that winning this particular bout would change his life forever. The dream didn't show him how, but it was quite clear that something drastic was about to change; like a slow moving ripple that would gather more and more force until it became a tidal wave. Or so the dream seemed to indicate. But now it was time for the ritual. Six laps around the central part of town before going back to the Workshop to check in. It had to be six laps, and it had to be done at sunset the night before the fight. He wouldn't win if he didn't complete the routine. Breaking the routine would jinx him; and he could not afford that. Stepping out into the thoroughfare, Grinder began to run.
A few minutes passed when a second figure exited the alley Klein had left just moments ago. The shadow he cast against the setting sun was nothing short of enormous. Standing just a hair over 7 feet tall and tipping the scales at a solid 340 pounds, the Trollkin named Grinder Stonetongue picked at his chin calcifications as he pulled his furred armor up around his neck. He squinted his eyes to see if anyone was skulking about. Grinder's eyesight was already nothing to write home about, but dusk made it even harder for him to see clearly. Satisfied he was now alone, the Trollkin began to hum an old Kriel song he remembered from his childhood. He had a tendency to do this when he was feeling good; and right now, the muscular Pugilist was feeling quite good. Betting on himself in a bare-knuckle fight was always a risky proposition, and Grinder knew it. But he had a feeling about tomorrow night. The dream he had the night before last predicted he was going to win; and that winning this particular bout would change his life forever. The dream didn't show him how, but it was quite clear that something drastic was about to change; like a slow moving ripple that would gather more and more force until it became a tidal wave. Or so the dream seemed to indicate. But now it was time for the ritual. Six laps around the central part of town before going back to the Workshop to check in. It had to be six laps, and it had to be done at sunset the night before the fight. He wouldn't win if he didn't complete the routine. Breaking the routine would jinx him; and he could not afford that. Stepping out into the thoroughfare, Grinder began to run.
"Well, the traps are all set," Derby said to the group as she approached the campfire, tucking Kaar's little utility knife into her pocket without thinking. The sun was minutes from setting, and according to Nosk, that meant the enemy could approach at any time.
From the riverbank, Selene jogged up to the campfire next. "Barricades are all erected. It's as good as it's going to get considering the limited supplies and the time we had to prepare. We set up an obvious choke point, so unless these things have cognitive sense, we can hope they will all get caught on the makeshift spikes or funnel to the middle of the camp. Should be easy pickings for our ranged folks," she said, looking directly at Magnus and Kaar. The dwarf nodded, and had just woken up from a much needed rest, still suffering lingering effects from the battle with the Croak patrol party.
Mags was paying no attention, focused completely on crafting rune-ready bullets from his runeshot crafting kit that he carried with him wherever he went. The process wasn't particularly difficult, but it did require extreme concentration to properly prepare the casing and bullet to quickly and unerringly accept the spells the Gunmage cast on the ammunition. It was obvious he was a little distracted and that conditions were not conducive to the exacting work, as he failed a number of attempts to successfully prepare the bullets. Running out of supplies, Mags looked up and put three more runeshot ammo into his bandolier. "It will have to do. I'm ready," he said, peering at his three companions that just stared back at him in bemused amazement. The gunmage's ability to completely and utterly block out anyone who was speaking to him, regardless of the topic, was both admirable and completely disrespectful at the same time. Alexandra absolutely despised when he did it; but without her here to scold him, they just shook their heads and got into position. Nosk had taken the female and youngling trogs along with the elderly to the back of the camp, vowing to keep them safe at all costs. He left two of his four remaining warriors with the companions. That would make six relatively healthy combatants vs. at least that number of undead, if not more. It may have seemed a bad ratio, but looking at the companions, Nosk felt it was better odds than they'd had in weeks. The sound of crickets and frogs began to fill the night air as the sun dipped below the horizon. Darkness had fallen and night time had finally arrived.
From the riverbank, Selene jogged up to the campfire next. "Barricades are all erected. It's as good as it's going to get considering the limited supplies and the time we had to prepare. We set up an obvious choke point, so unless these things have cognitive sense, we can hope they will all get caught on the makeshift spikes or funnel to the middle of the camp. Should be easy pickings for our ranged folks," she said, looking directly at Magnus and Kaar. The dwarf nodded, and had just woken up from a much needed rest, still suffering lingering effects from the battle with the Croak patrol party.
Mags was paying no attention, focused completely on crafting rune-ready bullets from his runeshot crafting kit that he carried with him wherever he went. The process wasn't particularly difficult, but it did require extreme concentration to properly prepare the casing and bullet to quickly and unerringly accept the spells the Gunmage cast on the ammunition. It was obvious he was a little distracted and that conditions were not conducive to the exacting work, as he failed a number of attempts to successfully prepare the bullets. Running out of supplies, Mags looked up and put three more runeshot ammo into his bandolier. "It will have to do. I'm ready," he said, peering at his three companions that just stared back at him in bemused amazement. The gunmage's ability to completely and utterly block out anyone who was speaking to him, regardless of the topic, was both admirable and completely disrespectful at the same time. Alexandra absolutely despised when he did it; but without her here to scold him, they just shook their heads and got into position. Nosk had taken the female and youngling trogs along with the elderly to the back of the camp, vowing to keep them safe at all costs. He left two of his four remaining warriors with the companions. That would make six relatively healthy combatants vs. at least that number of undead, if not more. It may have seemed a bad ratio, but looking at the companions, Nosk felt it was better odds than they'd had in weeks. The sound of crickets and frogs began to fill the night air as the sun dipped below the horizon. Darkness had fallen and night time had finally arrived.

The Shamblers first appeared from the treeline across the river. Even from this distance, the companions could tell they were little more than masses of rotting, decaying, undead bog trogs that looked like they had been raised directly from the river itself. They had black, empty holes for eyes and algae and moss clung to their bodies, dripping swamp water as the strode ahead. It became obvious why the living trogs called them 'shamblers' almost immediately. The creatures seemed to have no real concern for anything except moving forward. There were three of them within sight, with a fourth, much larger and thicker corpse just then coming into view. When the three smaller creatures got to the wooden spike barriers erected by the team, they were at least intelligent enough to stop walking. They appeared to have absolutely no idea what to do next, but these dead did have at least a spark of intelligence enough to know that moving directly into the spikes would severely hurt them. When the larger creature got close enough to the others, it seemed to bellow out something and point. The other creatures slowly moved away from the spiked barrier to the natural choke point opening created by the team and then began to funnel in, exactly as Selene and Derby had hoped. Derby's makeshift caltrops did not seem to do any damage, but it did further slow the already lumbering pace of the walkers.
"Well, here they come," said Kaar, as he activated his mechanika rifle to invoke the power of the accuracy rune engraved in the weapon. The long barrel rested on a tree stump as he looked down its sights, waiting to take the shot. "...and come to think of it, how is the big one able to communicate with the others?" the dwarf questioned to no one in particular. "Since when do the dead know how to form conscious thought?!" he wondered out loud.
"Since when did you become a master of necromancy?" Magnus yelled back from across the camp where he was taking cover behind an old broken down wagon. "Are you some type of expert to know what undead can and can't do?" the gunmage queried, preparing his first bullet with three different enchantments.
"Well that's a good point, lad. Indeed I'm not." the dwarf replied. "But it seems logical that those things don't have a brain anymore, right? I mean, not one that actually works. So how do they know how ta' talk ta' each other?" Kaar couldn't help but ask.
"Magic?" is all Magnus yelled back in return. "Maybe the necromancy spell gives them some sort of recognition ability?" he replied as more of a guess than pretending to actually know.
"Ah! Maybe that's it," Kaar agreed, waiting just a few more seconds to take his first long range shot.
Selene and Derby sat patiently behind cover listening to the two long-range members of their group theorize back and forth. Derby found it both thought provoking and distracting; two things she found helpful to keep her mind off the fact that she was about to engage in combat with something that already died once. 'How the hell does THAT work?' she questioned to herself. Slinking down behind a makeshift rock wall she constructed earlier, the tiny thief all but disappeared out of site. Meanwhile, Selene Tanis sat as patient as an owl waiting for a mouse to stick its head out of a hole, still bewildered that their entire team was even still alive considering how nonchalantly Kaar and Magnus behaved even during the most dire situations. Of all the times to have a philosophical discussion on the intellect capacity of the walking dead...
BOOM! - the sound of Kaar's long rifle exploded into the night as he unleashed the first of many shots into the nearest shambler. From what the dwarf could tell, he hit it square. The bullet seemed to penetrate its natural armor as well, but the thing just kept moving forward. "Well, I'll be...." and Kaar's voice was lost as the crack of Magnus' magelock pistol went off.
To say Maggy was a 'good shot' was a bit of an understatement. The dwarf had seen many a pistol user in his days in Rhul, but he wasn't sure if he remembered seeing anyone as deadly accurate as Magnus on a more consistent basis. On most days, that made Kaar exceedingly happy. Mags' shot hit the shambler in the upper torso, and thanks to the thunderbolt spell he cast upon the bullet itself, knocked the creature directly into the burning campfire. Between the damage of the enchanted round and the now burning flesh of the creature, it fell over backwards and stayed down. 'Not a bad start,' the gunmage thought to himself.
Another shambler was now approaching Selene's position, where she was directing one of the trog guards left under her command by Nosk. Ordering the warrior to engage the creature, it stepped forward and lunged at the undead with its battle axe. Somehow the trog missed completely, putting itself in a bad position for the inevitable counterattack. Before Selene could intervene, the shambler lashed out with it's talons and ripped the trog warrior clean open at the stomach. Blood and entrails spilled out of the Trog as it screamed in pain. A moment later the screaming stopped, as the guard was completely gutted and carelessly tossed aside like a rag doll by the undead monster.
Meanwhile, Derby continued to observe from her hidden position behind her rock barrier. She watched as another giant form emerged from the water, the same size as the other bigger undead creature that had given the verbal command to the lesser three. It approached the wooden barricade and was forced to slow its progression. Another noise caught her attention from the opposite side of the riverbank, and she could swear she saw motion in the trees. Feeling quite alone all by herself on this part of the would-be battlefield, Sway left her cover position and began a tactical retreat to be closer to rest of her team. As she turned her back to the noise, she felt a sudden sharp pinch in her neck. The pain was instantaneous and immediately went away as quickly as it came. But something now felt... different. She was moving more sluggish than normal, and it felt like her reflexes had been slowed somehow. She would worry about that later as she ducked behind another rock closer to Selene.
The remaining trog guard, under Kaar's direction, charged out to meet the shambler that the dwarf had struck with his rifle shot. Connecting with his battle axe, the Bog Trog struck a fatal blow, cleaving the undead creature through the side and dropping it to the ground. It remained motionless, which was a good sign.
Watching and waiting for the perfect time to strike, Selene Tanis left her cover position and charged the remaining smaller shambler with her greatsword. Unfortunately for the seasoned mage hunter, her string of bad luck seemed to be carrying over from the Croak battle. In what proved to be an unnatural level of alacrity, the undead trog sidestepped the blow from Selene. Enraged at her inability to strike the thing down, the elven warrior followed up with two more swings that were both undisciplined and clumsy, and the creature deftly dodged both of those blows as well. Selene was furious at herself, and calmly brought her sword up into a defensive position to await the coming retaliation.
The giant shambler was finally entering the fray itself, and Kaar wasted no time attacking it. Words of power surrounded his arm and focused into his outstretched hand as he unleashed the magic missile that was his arcane bolt at the lumbering monstrosity. Narrowly missing high, Kaar quickly grabbed 'Betty' and reloaded her as he moved backwards into the next spot of cover.
Seeing his friend miss with his magic bolt, Magnus reloaded his magelock with another fully enchanted round and fired at the slightly distracted giant shambler. Another direct hit. The thunderbolt enchantment activated again, and the giant beast was knocked backward close to 12 feet as it peered at the hole in it's shoulder caused by the enemy magelock. But the creature did not fall. It just looked at the gunmage and continued to walk straight for him again.
After dodging three consecutive blows from the Iosan swordswoman, the shambler engaged with Selene struck back at the elf with two clawed attacks. While the first one missed, the second hit the Military Officer cleanly, opening a small gash on her right leg. The wound was not deep, but enough to affect her movement as the battle continued.
Seeing her opportunity, Derby Sway dashed out from behind her new cover spot and flanked the creature that was fully focused on ripping Selene to pieces. Derby was able to bring her deadly assassin's blade to bear with two quick strikes into the small of the creature's back and it fell forward face first into the mud at the Iosan's feet. Looking past the motionless shambler, Selene saw a smiling Derby - blade in hand - and gave her a scowl, knowing what was coming. "Stick with me, Elf. I'll show you how to fight!" the thief said playfully as she winked at her friend. As much as she hated to have her kills "stolen" - Selene could not ignore how effective the two were together. Shrugging her irritation away, the Iosan scanned for her next target while Derby looked around for a new temporary hiding spot.
The large shambler making it's way toward the gunmage was then interrupted momentarily as the remaining trog guard imposed itself between the undead creature and Magnus. Without so much as slowing down, the giant shambler reached out and grabbed the poor trog by the neck, using it's other hand to reach into it's unprotected chest and crush its ribcage into its lungs. Exhaling it's last remaining breath, the guard went immediately limp and fell to the ground in a motionless heap.
"Well, here they come," said Kaar, as he activated his mechanika rifle to invoke the power of the accuracy rune engraved in the weapon. The long barrel rested on a tree stump as he looked down its sights, waiting to take the shot. "...and come to think of it, how is the big one able to communicate with the others?" the dwarf questioned to no one in particular. "Since when do the dead know how to form conscious thought?!" he wondered out loud.
"Since when did you become a master of necromancy?" Magnus yelled back from across the camp where he was taking cover behind an old broken down wagon. "Are you some type of expert to know what undead can and can't do?" the gunmage queried, preparing his first bullet with three different enchantments.
"Well that's a good point, lad. Indeed I'm not." the dwarf replied. "But it seems logical that those things don't have a brain anymore, right? I mean, not one that actually works. So how do they know how ta' talk ta' each other?" Kaar couldn't help but ask.
"Magic?" is all Magnus yelled back in return. "Maybe the necromancy spell gives them some sort of recognition ability?" he replied as more of a guess than pretending to actually know.
"Ah! Maybe that's it," Kaar agreed, waiting just a few more seconds to take his first long range shot.
Selene and Derby sat patiently behind cover listening to the two long-range members of their group theorize back and forth. Derby found it both thought provoking and distracting; two things she found helpful to keep her mind off the fact that she was about to engage in combat with something that already died once. 'How the hell does THAT work?' she questioned to herself. Slinking down behind a makeshift rock wall she constructed earlier, the tiny thief all but disappeared out of site. Meanwhile, Selene Tanis sat as patient as an owl waiting for a mouse to stick its head out of a hole, still bewildered that their entire team was even still alive considering how nonchalantly Kaar and Magnus behaved even during the most dire situations. Of all the times to have a philosophical discussion on the intellect capacity of the walking dead...
BOOM! - the sound of Kaar's long rifle exploded into the night as he unleashed the first of many shots into the nearest shambler. From what the dwarf could tell, he hit it square. The bullet seemed to penetrate its natural armor as well, but the thing just kept moving forward. "Well, I'll be...." and Kaar's voice was lost as the crack of Magnus' magelock pistol went off.
To say Maggy was a 'good shot' was a bit of an understatement. The dwarf had seen many a pistol user in his days in Rhul, but he wasn't sure if he remembered seeing anyone as deadly accurate as Magnus on a more consistent basis. On most days, that made Kaar exceedingly happy. Mags' shot hit the shambler in the upper torso, and thanks to the thunderbolt spell he cast upon the bullet itself, knocked the creature directly into the burning campfire. Between the damage of the enchanted round and the now burning flesh of the creature, it fell over backwards and stayed down. 'Not a bad start,' the gunmage thought to himself.
Another shambler was now approaching Selene's position, where she was directing one of the trog guards left under her command by Nosk. Ordering the warrior to engage the creature, it stepped forward and lunged at the undead with its battle axe. Somehow the trog missed completely, putting itself in a bad position for the inevitable counterattack. Before Selene could intervene, the shambler lashed out with it's talons and ripped the trog warrior clean open at the stomach. Blood and entrails spilled out of the Trog as it screamed in pain. A moment later the screaming stopped, as the guard was completely gutted and carelessly tossed aside like a rag doll by the undead monster.
Meanwhile, Derby continued to observe from her hidden position behind her rock barrier. She watched as another giant form emerged from the water, the same size as the other bigger undead creature that had given the verbal command to the lesser three. It approached the wooden barricade and was forced to slow its progression. Another noise caught her attention from the opposite side of the riverbank, and she could swear she saw motion in the trees. Feeling quite alone all by herself on this part of the would-be battlefield, Sway left her cover position and began a tactical retreat to be closer to rest of her team. As she turned her back to the noise, she felt a sudden sharp pinch in her neck. The pain was instantaneous and immediately went away as quickly as it came. But something now felt... different. She was moving more sluggish than normal, and it felt like her reflexes had been slowed somehow. She would worry about that later as she ducked behind another rock closer to Selene.
The remaining trog guard, under Kaar's direction, charged out to meet the shambler that the dwarf had struck with his rifle shot. Connecting with his battle axe, the Bog Trog struck a fatal blow, cleaving the undead creature through the side and dropping it to the ground. It remained motionless, which was a good sign.
Watching and waiting for the perfect time to strike, Selene Tanis left her cover position and charged the remaining smaller shambler with her greatsword. Unfortunately for the seasoned mage hunter, her string of bad luck seemed to be carrying over from the Croak battle. In what proved to be an unnatural level of alacrity, the undead trog sidestepped the blow from Selene. Enraged at her inability to strike the thing down, the elven warrior followed up with two more swings that were both undisciplined and clumsy, and the creature deftly dodged both of those blows as well. Selene was furious at herself, and calmly brought her sword up into a defensive position to await the coming retaliation.
The giant shambler was finally entering the fray itself, and Kaar wasted no time attacking it. Words of power surrounded his arm and focused into his outstretched hand as he unleashed the magic missile that was his arcane bolt at the lumbering monstrosity. Narrowly missing high, Kaar quickly grabbed 'Betty' and reloaded her as he moved backwards into the next spot of cover.
Seeing his friend miss with his magic bolt, Magnus reloaded his magelock with another fully enchanted round and fired at the slightly distracted giant shambler. Another direct hit. The thunderbolt enchantment activated again, and the giant beast was knocked backward close to 12 feet as it peered at the hole in it's shoulder caused by the enemy magelock. But the creature did not fall. It just looked at the gunmage and continued to walk straight for him again.
After dodging three consecutive blows from the Iosan swordswoman, the shambler engaged with Selene struck back at the elf with two clawed attacks. While the first one missed, the second hit the Military Officer cleanly, opening a small gash on her right leg. The wound was not deep, but enough to affect her movement as the battle continued.
Seeing her opportunity, Derby Sway dashed out from behind her new cover spot and flanked the creature that was fully focused on ripping Selene to pieces. Derby was able to bring her deadly assassin's blade to bear with two quick strikes into the small of the creature's back and it fell forward face first into the mud at the Iosan's feet. Looking past the motionless shambler, Selene saw a smiling Derby - blade in hand - and gave her a scowl, knowing what was coming. "Stick with me, Elf. I'll show you how to fight!" the thief said playfully as she winked at her friend. As much as she hated to have her kills "stolen" - Selene could not ignore how effective the two were together. Shrugging her irritation away, the Iosan scanned for her next target while Derby looked around for a new temporary hiding spot.
The large shambler making it's way toward the gunmage was then interrupted momentarily as the remaining trog guard imposed itself between the undead creature and Magnus. Without so much as slowing down, the giant shambler reached out and grabbed the poor trog by the neck, using it's other hand to reach into it's unprotected chest and crush its ribcage into its lungs. Exhaling it's last remaining breath, the guard went immediately limp and fell to the ground in a motionless heap.

Watching from the forest edge, Gosag the Deformed had seen enough. He recognized the companions as the same ones that he left in the old temple, certain they would have run back to civilization with their tails between their legs by now. But no; they were here, getting in his way of revenge on his mortal enemy, as well as systematically taking out his undead minions. The angry Bog Trog strode forward and summoned two more giant shamblers to join the battle as he moved into position to cast a spell or two of his own.
Now in position to attack again, Kaar Ironfist called upon his magic for a second time. The familiar runes of his Arcantrik Bolt formed around his arm and ascended to his outstretched hand. The bolt flew forward at amazing speed to impact the shambler that crushed the trog guard in front of him. In one quick motion, he followed the spell with a shot from his already armed long rifle, Betty's throat exploding another BANG! into the night. Again the dwarf's aim was true, and the giant beast was knocked to the ground, unmoving. Just as Kaar pumped his fist in celebration, the unholy creature raised up at the waste and climbed to it's feet.
"Well damn it all!" Kaar yelled out to Magnus, now just a few feet from the dwarven mechanik. "A little help here Mags, if ya' please? Not sure what ya' need ta' do ta' make one of these buggers stay down." he yelled out to the gunmage. As if already planning to help, it took Magnus less than a second to unleash the power of another fully enchanted round into the beast, knocking it back into a set of wooden spikes, impaling the creature and knocking whatever vestiges of undeath it had left out of it's unholy form.
That left Gosag and the two monstrous shamblers accompanying him. Other than losing the two trog guards that Nosk had left to help them, the companions were doing remarkably well so far. But as the remaining enemies approached and quickly closed the distance to the group, Derby realized that they stood no chance unless Selene started hitting with the business end of her sword. Although Kaar and Magnus could fight hand-to-hand with decent effect, they stood no chance against these monsters up close. As if on cue, the Mage Hunter charged from her current position, working through the pain in her leg and slamming her sword into one of the giant creatures. The blow was devastating, and the undead monster reeled backward as if struck by a steamjack's hammer. It did not fall, but Selene knew she had severely wounded the thing.
Kaar and Magnus took beads on the other shambler as it quickly approached the dwarf's position. Kaar missed just high with his magic missile, but the gunmage did not. Again Mags' aim was true with his magelock, and again another shambler was knocked backward from the concussive blow of the thunderbolt-enchanted round. However, the ever-perceptive Magnus noticed something very peculiar when his bullet hit the creature. A feint red glow appeared and then vanished around the creatures body at the same time as a brilliant red light flashed from Derby's neck and then was gone. Derby let out a yelp as she felt a sharp pain in her neck that immediately went away as the light flash disappeared. Magnus quickly deduced that these two things were somehow connected; perhaps a vile spell cast by the Bonegrinder.
As Derby retreated further from the conflict, not happy with her current tactical situation, Selene arced her sword down at the still reeling shambler she was engaged with and used her incredible strength to cut the creature from it's shoulder blade to it's opposing hip; quite literally slicing it in two. Guts and gore came gushing out of the creature and spilling onto the ground at her feet. Derby would have vomited if the attack wasn't so amazingly devastating. She cheered at the Elf instinctively, "That's the way!" she screamed out in praise. There was a time to tease and a time to truly admire; and this was certainly the latter.
Meanwhile, Kaar wasn't paying particular attention to that end of the battlefield, as he was singularly focused on the approaching Gosag who had just about come into range of his Arcantrik Bolt. The dwarf would have to move forward, which was a risky move, but he didn't care. Kaar wanted to take out that bastard warrior. Letting loose with an augmented version of his spell that added range to the missile at the cost of extra energy, Ironfist unleashed the furious bolt.
But Gosag was no mere Bog Trog. He saw the runes being formed around the stocky dwarf's arms as the foolish little bearded creature pointed his hand in the warrior's direction. Deftly dodging out of the way, Gosag didn't even look as the bolt sailed harmlessly by, striking a rock some distance behind the Trog. Then the 8 foot tall bonegrinder began to laugh as he watched one of his two remaining minions close the distance with the aggressive dwarf and swipe at him with it's two enormous clawed hands. The first blow only grazed Kaar on the shoulder, but the second was much more powerful. Connecting directly with the dwarf's head, the huge hand hit Kaar so amazingly hard it spun the trader around over 200 degrees and knocked him to ground with a sickening thud. The dwarf was still breathing, but didn't make even so much as a twitch. Derby was still looking for cover and missed the exchange entirely, which was probably a good thing.
While he was still laughing, Gosag raised his hands in the air and bright red runes began to form around them. He shot them forward in Selene's direction, and a giant red blade of pure energy glided through the air at the Iosan. But catching a Mage Hunter with a magical spell was not nearly as easy as Gosag might have thought. As if sensing the magic, the Elven warrior shifted her body out of the way and watched the vile energy blade fly right by, dissipating into the air before striking anything. But before the magical blade even disappeared, another spell was forming on Gosag's hand. A crimson whip of dark energy formed immediately and lashed out at Selene, attempting to grab at her ankle and trip her to the ground. But yet again, the Mage Hunter was not even remotely caught by surprise, as the whip landed harmlessly at her feet and found nothing to grasp but the entrails of the demolished undead beast at her feet.
Having to make a choice to charge at Gosag or the shambler that was now moving on to engage Magnus, Selene clenched her teeth and barrelled toward the shambler about to rake it's claws into the gunmage. She activated her greatsword for the first time as she ran, feeling the arcane energy course through the sword and into it's hilt. The sword hummed as if awaiting this moment for decades and burst into a brilliant bluish glow as it fully charged its capacitor. As she reached the giant creature of death, Selene used her momentum to swing at the creature with all her might, spinning around and cleaving it's left leg off at the hip. The creature immediately fell to the ground where she finished the job with a downward piercing stroke, ending whatever spark of unlife it had left. Turning to face the bonegrinder, Selene could only watch as Gosag ran back to the river and disappeared underneath it's strong current. "Coward!" she yelled as loud as she could, her adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream as she searched the field for more enemies to strike down. But the battle was over. Breathing heavily, the Elf deactivated her wondrous sword and sheathed it behind her back. Magnus had already rushed to Kaar, trying to revive him, but having no luck. The dwarf was completely unconscious and his breathing was weakening. If they didn't stabilize him soon, Magnus was afraid they would lose him for good.
Now in position to attack again, Kaar Ironfist called upon his magic for a second time. The familiar runes of his Arcantrik Bolt formed around his arm and ascended to his outstretched hand. The bolt flew forward at amazing speed to impact the shambler that crushed the trog guard in front of him. In one quick motion, he followed the spell with a shot from his already armed long rifle, Betty's throat exploding another BANG! into the night. Again the dwarf's aim was true, and the giant beast was knocked to the ground, unmoving. Just as Kaar pumped his fist in celebration, the unholy creature raised up at the waste and climbed to it's feet.
"Well damn it all!" Kaar yelled out to Magnus, now just a few feet from the dwarven mechanik. "A little help here Mags, if ya' please? Not sure what ya' need ta' do ta' make one of these buggers stay down." he yelled out to the gunmage. As if already planning to help, it took Magnus less than a second to unleash the power of another fully enchanted round into the beast, knocking it back into a set of wooden spikes, impaling the creature and knocking whatever vestiges of undeath it had left out of it's unholy form.
That left Gosag and the two monstrous shamblers accompanying him. Other than losing the two trog guards that Nosk had left to help them, the companions were doing remarkably well so far. But as the remaining enemies approached and quickly closed the distance to the group, Derby realized that they stood no chance unless Selene started hitting with the business end of her sword. Although Kaar and Magnus could fight hand-to-hand with decent effect, they stood no chance against these monsters up close. As if on cue, the Mage Hunter charged from her current position, working through the pain in her leg and slamming her sword into one of the giant creatures. The blow was devastating, and the undead monster reeled backward as if struck by a steamjack's hammer. It did not fall, but Selene knew she had severely wounded the thing.
Kaar and Magnus took beads on the other shambler as it quickly approached the dwarf's position. Kaar missed just high with his magic missile, but the gunmage did not. Again Mags' aim was true with his magelock, and again another shambler was knocked backward from the concussive blow of the thunderbolt-enchanted round. However, the ever-perceptive Magnus noticed something very peculiar when his bullet hit the creature. A feint red glow appeared and then vanished around the creatures body at the same time as a brilliant red light flashed from Derby's neck and then was gone. Derby let out a yelp as she felt a sharp pain in her neck that immediately went away as the light flash disappeared. Magnus quickly deduced that these two things were somehow connected; perhaps a vile spell cast by the Bonegrinder.
As Derby retreated further from the conflict, not happy with her current tactical situation, Selene arced her sword down at the still reeling shambler she was engaged with and used her incredible strength to cut the creature from it's shoulder blade to it's opposing hip; quite literally slicing it in two. Guts and gore came gushing out of the creature and spilling onto the ground at her feet. Derby would have vomited if the attack wasn't so amazingly devastating. She cheered at the Elf instinctively, "That's the way!" she screamed out in praise. There was a time to tease and a time to truly admire; and this was certainly the latter.
Meanwhile, Kaar wasn't paying particular attention to that end of the battlefield, as he was singularly focused on the approaching Gosag who had just about come into range of his Arcantrik Bolt. The dwarf would have to move forward, which was a risky move, but he didn't care. Kaar wanted to take out that bastard warrior. Letting loose with an augmented version of his spell that added range to the missile at the cost of extra energy, Ironfist unleashed the furious bolt.
But Gosag was no mere Bog Trog. He saw the runes being formed around the stocky dwarf's arms as the foolish little bearded creature pointed his hand in the warrior's direction. Deftly dodging out of the way, Gosag didn't even look as the bolt sailed harmlessly by, striking a rock some distance behind the Trog. Then the 8 foot tall bonegrinder began to laugh as he watched one of his two remaining minions close the distance with the aggressive dwarf and swipe at him with it's two enormous clawed hands. The first blow only grazed Kaar on the shoulder, but the second was much more powerful. Connecting directly with the dwarf's head, the huge hand hit Kaar so amazingly hard it spun the trader around over 200 degrees and knocked him to ground with a sickening thud. The dwarf was still breathing, but didn't make even so much as a twitch. Derby was still looking for cover and missed the exchange entirely, which was probably a good thing.
While he was still laughing, Gosag raised his hands in the air and bright red runes began to form around them. He shot them forward in Selene's direction, and a giant red blade of pure energy glided through the air at the Iosan. But catching a Mage Hunter with a magical spell was not nearly as easy as Gosag might have thought. As if sensing the magic, the Elven warrior shifted her body out of the way and watched the vile energy blade fly right by, dissipating into the air before striking anything. But before the magical blade even disappeared, another spell was forming on Gosag's hand. A crimson whip of dark energy formed immediately and lashed out at Selene, attempting to grab at her ankle and trip her to the ground. But yet again, the Mage Hunter was not even remotely caught by surprise, as the whip landed harmlessly at her feet and found nothing to grasp but the entrails of the demolished undead beast at her feet.
Having to make a choice to charge at Gosag or the shambler that was now moving on to engage Magnus, Selene clenched her teeth and barrelled toward the shambler about to rake it's claws into the gunmage. She activated her greatsword for the first time as she ran, feeling the arcane energy course through the sword and into it's hilt. The sword hummed as if awaiting this moment for decades and burst into a brilliant bluish glow as it fully charged its capacitor. As she reached the giant creature of death, Selene used her momentum to swing at the creature with all her might, spinning around and cleaving it's left leg off at the hip. The creature immediately fell to the ground where she finished the job with a downward piercing stroke, ending whatever spark of unlife it had left. Turning to face the bonegrinder, Selene could only watch as Gosag ran back to the river and disappeared underneath it's strong current. "Coward!" she yelled as loud as she could, her adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream as she searched the field for more enemies to strike down. But the battle was over. Breathing heavily, the Elf deactivated her wondrous sword and sheathed it behind her back. Magnus had already rushed to Kaar, trying to revive him, but having no luck. The dwarf was completely unconscious and his breathing was weakening. If they didn't stabilize him soon, Magnus was afraid they would lose him for good.

It was well past midnight when Grinder Stonetongue returned to the Strangelight Workshop. Taking a long metal key from his pocket, the Trollkin unlocked the heavy wooden door that led into the small building. To compare this Corvis chapter of Strangelight to the home office in Ceryl would be like comparing a pauper's hovel to a River Baron's private estate. The workshop in Corvis was comprised of a grand total of five rooms. Two of them were sleeping quarters, one for the males, the other for the females. The third room was an entry room that served the purpose of greeting guests as well as holding Workshop meetings. It was nothing special, and had a typical wooden table with eight chairs, a desk used for guest sign-ins, and some odds and ends that included various plants and things. The fourth room was recessed almost as a basement, but was not entirely below ground. This was the workshop proper and was easily the largest room in the building. It had various work benches and all manner of tools, devices, and other mechanik's equipment to properly identify and tinker with the oddities that the investigators brought back from their excursions. The fifth and final room doubled as a lounge and study area for those not mechanically inclined. There were book shelves lined with tomes of all manner of study for members to browse at the leisure.
Being neither a mechanik nor scholarly, Grinder found no room in the workshop particularly interesting. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He did very much enjoy his bedroom. The reason for this was the magnificent double king-sized bed he had acquired in a bet that he somehow managed to fit into the room to serve as his sleeping post. Being a Trollkin in a predominately human populated city, finding a true bed made for people his size was next to impossible. Therefore no matter where he stayed over; be it a lodge, inn, or even a brothel, they never had accommodations made for someone of his size. It may have sounded silly, but this was actually quite important to Grinder. Another of his beliefs was that if he slept comfortably, the following day would bring him good fortune in one way or another. And nowhere in Corvis or beyond had he ever slept more comfortably than in his double king-sized bed!
As he fired up the gaslight lantern leading to his room, he closed and locked the door behind him. He was tired. It had been a long day followed by a long night. Since he was technically still on disciplinary probation from active duty, there wasn't a whole lot for the Trollkin to do during the day. He therefore spent most of the time at various underground fighting dens, both scouting and betting on the fighters. When not there, he would visit his favorite brothel and talk shop with the bartenders. Most of the brothels in town catered strictly toward humans, which Grinder had no particular attraction to, so he didn't go to gawk at or 'partake' in lady favors. He spent most of the time listening to rumors (most of which tended to be false), and talking about the comings and goings of interesting people to the city itself. He much preferred being out on an excursion to this; but getting into a "disagreement" with one of the local Constables had landed him disciplinary action that kept him firmly locked down in town for now.
As usual, nobody else was around. The division of the Workshop in Corvis was small to begin with, claiming a grand total of six agents including their lone Headmaster. But none of them were around, nor had they been for days. They were all out on the same assignment; looking into rumors of animals that walked upright and were scaring the living hell out of travelers at night on the roads leaving the city. Grinder found it a bit strange that not one of his co-workers had so much as checked-in in what was several days now. But even if he wanted to, he couldn't leave town for at least three more days to go find out what was going on. His hearing and fine payment was due at that time, and Grinder would need to make apologies for nearly crushing the corrupt Constable's throat for cheating at a card game in which the Trollkin lost a good deal of coin. What he should have been doing was working on his speech. But as he stepped into the sleeping quarters and eyed his marvelous bed, the Trollkin decided he had plenty of time to do that. Right now, all he wanted to do what rest up for his upcoming match at the Punching Pit. Taking off his gigantic boots, Grinder laid down and drifted off to another night of prophetic dreams...
Being neither a mechanik nor scholarly, Grinder found no room in the workshop particularly interesting. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He did very much enjoy his bedroom. The reason for this was the magnificent double king-sized bed he had acquired in a bet that he somehow managed to fit into the room to serve as his sleeping post. Being a Trollkin in a predominately human populated city, finding a true bed made for people his size was next to impossible. Therefore no matter where he stayed over; be it a lodge, inn, or even a brothel, they never had accommodations made for someone of his size. It may have sounded silly, but this was actually quite important to Grinder. Another of his beliefs was that if he slept comfortably, the following day would bring him good fortune in one way or another. And nowhere in Corvis or beyond had he ever slept more comfortably than in his double king-sized bed!
As he fired up the gaslight lantern leading to his room, he closed and locked the door behind him. He was tired. It had been a long day followed by a long night. Since he was technically still on disciplinary probation from active duty, there wasn't a whole lot for the Trollkin to do during the day. He therefore spent most of the time at various underground fighting dens, both scouting and betting on the fighters. When not there, he would visit his favorite brothel and talk shop with the bartenders. Most of the brothels in town catered strictly toward humans, which Grinder had no particular attraction to, so he didn't go to gawk at or 'partake' in lady favors. He spent most of the time listening to rumors (most of which tended to be false), and talking about the comings and goings of interesting people to the city itself. He much preferred being out on an excursion to this; but getting into a "disagreement" with one of the local Constables had landed him disciplinary action that kept him firmly locked down in town for now.
As usual, nobody else was around. The division of the Workshop in Corvis was small to begin with, claiming a grand total of six agents including their lone Headmaster. But none of them were around, nor had they been for days. They were all out on the same assignment; looking into rumors of animals that walked upright and were scaring the living hell out of travelers at night on the roads leaving the city. Grinder found it a bit strange that not one of his co-workers had so much as checked-in in what was several days now. But even if he wanted to, he couldn't leave town for at least three more days to go find out what was going on. His hearing and fine payment was due at that time, and Grinder would need to make apologies for nearly crushing the corrupt Constable's throat for cheating at a card game in which the Trollkin lost a good deal of coin. What he should have been doing was working on his speech. But as he stepped into the sleeping quarters and eyed his marvelous bed, the Trollkin decided he had plenty of time to do that. Right now, all he wanted to do what rest up for his upcoming match at the Punching Pit. Taking off his gigantic boots, Grinder laid down and drifted off to another night of prophetic dreams...
. . . END SESSION . . .