Arcanum - Summoner: Goodbye, Arcanum?

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Table of Contents:
Chapter 1: Crash
Chapter 2: Life (and Death) in the City
Chapter 3: The Morning After
Chapter 4: Ball of Fate
Chapter 5: The Thieves Underground
Chapter 6: The Tale of Two Engineers and Greed
Chapter 7: The Goddamn Bad Man
Chapter 8: Black Ops
Chapter 9: Darkness over Tarant
Chapter 10: The Necromancer and the Dead Dog
Chapter 11: Despaired
Chapter 12: Arronax and The Derian-Ka
Chapter 13: The Wheel, Broken
Chapter 14: The Trail to Qintarra
Chapter 15: That Bridge to Tarant
Chapter 16: Where in Tarant is Renford A. Terwilliger?
Chapter 17: The Times of Change
Chapter 18: Good Intentions
Chapter 19: The Boil Massacre
Chapter 20: Onward, Caladon
Chapter 21: The Truth
Chapter 22: Pre-Negotiation Discussions
Chapter 23: Terms of Agreement
Chapter 24: The Whytechurch Murders
Chapter 25: L'anamelach
Chapter 26: Full Circle
Chapter 27: T'sen-Ang
Chapter 28: Scars will heal
Chapter 29: Reunion
Chapter 30: Faith & Falsehoods
Chapter 31: The Opposite of Truth
Chapter 32: True Ascension
Chapter 33: First Encounter
Chapter 34: Kingdom of Decline
Chapter 35: Sadly Ever After
Chapter 36: Nasrudin
Chapter 37: Into the Wastes
Chapter 38: Retconnaisance
Chapter 39: Arronax
Chapter 40: Atonement Begins
Chapter 41: Allies from the Void
Chapter 42: Kerghan
Chapter 43: Goodbye, Arcanum


This is great. I just survived a crash and a lunatic came to greet me. I guess they have shit for brains in this part of the world. I tried to dissuade this guy from worshiping me as some sort of half-god, but I guess I'll play along for now. Fella's name is Virgil. He seemed quite agitated about this whole airship crash survivor business. Some blabbering of prophecies and half-elf reincarnation. It's all part of his Panarii religion. Imagine that. Whatever. I'm going to go loot the dead bodies for some loose change and get myself out of this dump. Mmm...the gnome's ring look valuable. GB inscription? Must be the owner. "The boy" I suppose. P.Schuyler is inscribed within the ring....probably the manufacturers. Oh well. Time to get a move on. *snaps fingers*

Yikes! Orcs!
Calm down, you dolt! It's just summoning magic.
Oh, that's nice, uh, sir. Do you know how to fight?
I don't need to. Kill that purple fuck for me. *points*
Wha-?

Cheap, weak and plenty. The summoned orcs drain my stamina periodically, but it sure beats waving my fists around like an idiot. I don't like getting myself dirty. The purple fuck's chest had very little of value. A gem and very little else. How disappointing.
Look sir, a letter for a loved one from one of the dead. It's for someone in Tarant...perhaps...

Keep it if you want, Virgil. Now, which way to Shrouded Hills?
Towards that stone altar over there.

More shit blabbering. Believe what you want, Virgil. We're getting out of this dump.

Oh, look. A wise guy.
I mean no disrespect, uh, sir..but I don't trust this bastard one bit...
Shut up, Virgil. I do the talking.
Fine, I'm sure you know best what to do. But be careful with him... I don't like the look in his eye.
We have two orc muscles behind us. Have some backbone, man.

The cloaked figure gave Virgil a hard look, then turns towards me, nodding, "Yes, that's more reasonable. Now why are you here?"

Perhaps you ought to tell me what YOU are doing here...

"I'm from Shrouded Hills ...a town not far from here..I saw the crash and..."

(For fuck sake, another fanatic?) I don't feel like speaking about it...leave me alone.

"I'm afraid that's not an option here. You see, I'm here to see if there were any survivors..."

I don't like your tone, sir. Get out of my way.

"And I'm making SURE there are no survivors. Now you die!" he lunged forward.

Hah! Fool!


It might be a good idea to find out who owns that ring...
Point taken, Virgil. Let's search this asshole. Hmm...what a strange amulet. Ah well, to Shrouded Hills.



The trip to Shrouded Hills will be too long for me to maintain the summoned orcs. I dismissed them with a wave of my hand.



Shrouded Hills is a backwater village devoid of any excitement. I quickly followed Virgil's direction, anxious to get out of the blazing sun.



Well, shit. Two dead bodies and pools of blood. The letter interest me most.



Sound advice. I guess we should head out ot Tarant when we're ready. I searched the dead assailants and found identical amulets. A cult perhaps. A search on the nearby chest net some gold.

Sorry to interrupt, but it seems Joachim has discovered something...these individuals seem to be a part of some larger plot. A plot against YOU...
Way to go, Captain Obvious. So, who's Joachim?
He is ...well.. someone who helped me out when I needed it. I met him in a small village, at a Panarii temple, I was uh...a bit down on my luck. He showed me that you don't always have to take what life gives you...that there's always a better path, and...
BORING. What happened to you anyway?
I'd rather not talk about it, anymore. But Joachim is a great man, well-versed in the ways of the Panarii, and also in the ways of the world. If he thinks we're in trouble, then we are. Let's get out of here, and get to Tarant.
Fine, but before that, let's stop by the bar.


Gee, what a coincidence. Do tell!

"I'll make this short. Do you fancy yourself a thieving type, stranger?"

(Not really, but who cares!) I'm a man of many talents, friend. Continue...

"I thought I was right about you. Listen,...I'm no thief, but I've got some information to help us both get rich....there's a bank in town, and there's at least 500 gold pieces in that safe, as we speak. This here is the combination to the bank's safe. Do I make myself clear stranger?"

Crystal, my good man. What's the catch?

"We split it right down in the middle. And word has it that the Bowen Gang is gonna rob the bank any day now, so you better do it as soon as possible. And if I find out yer trying to skip town, I'll get the old doctor after you..."

Who's the doctor?

"Old Doc Roberts is the only real law this here town got...god knows Constable Owens lilly-livered hide ain't going to do nuthin' about nuthin'. Alright. I give you the the combination to the safe, you break into the bank and steal that money. Then you meet me here before noon on the following day, and give me my 250 gold. If I don't see your face here, then I go straight to Roberts and tell 'im who stole the money...."

Deal.

It'd be foolish to break into the bank during the day. And there's a guard next to the teller. I've no lockpicking skills, so I'll think up of something later.

The general stores pay decent price for the gem and provides me the stamina potions I needed. The blacksmith didn't have much to offer, and business has been bad with the cursed mine. Naturally, he asked me to procure a pure ore, but I refused to do such menial task for a mere dagger. The junk store owner is more useful, however...



The man, Riztezze, doesn't really know anything about the owner of the ring, but he admits knowing about its manufacturer.

"P. Schuyler and Sons? A very important piece of this puzzle, eh, friend? Ristezze has been very free with information, no? What have you to offer Ristezze?"

What do you want in return?

"Well..if you were able to locate a camera, or something of Bessie Toone's, Ristezze might tell you about P.Schuyler and Sons and where you might find them..."

(I've got the camera off that dead reporter already. No big loss if I trade it.) I have the camera already. Let's trade...

"Wonderful! Ristezze shall tell you what you want to know about P. Schuyler and Sons. A respected jeweler in Tarant, a strange family, but ALWAYS good business. And here...Their address in the city is 44 Devonshire Way. Good luck, my friend!"

That's settled. Let's meet the Doc.


I'm Alain Gilford. Some rummy in the saloon asked me to rob the bank for him.
Oh, he did, did he? Damned Bens! I'll have to take care of that fool! You seem an honest sort, at least. You interested in any work?
(Heheh, I still have the combination with me.) Sure, provided the pay is right.
Word has reached me that the Bowen Gang is coming to rob the bank. I could use someone to watch my back, and there ain't no one worth their salt in this town.
(Score.) What's the pay?
That depends, Mr. Gilford. Do you fancy yourself a magicker or a scientician?
I've been known to dabble in the magickal arts.
I happen to have come into possession of a magickal sword a while back. If you were to back me up when the trouble starts, I'd give it to you afterwards.
Alright. Where do I wait for you?
Meet me in front of the bank.
(And right after the Bowens are dealt with, the money's mine!)

(Hm. No. I shouldn't tell anyone about the crash. Not even a bit.) Mind your own business.

"Please sir! I must know! Were you on the blimp or not? I have a very good reason for wanting to know! I beseech you..!

I told you that I'd rather not speak of it. Good day...

"Hmph! No need to be rude, sir. I suppose you'll be staying here in Shrouded Hills. I'm sure we'll be seeing one another again..."

He's too interested in the crash, in my opinion. I spotted the Doc outside the bank with his revolver at the ready. Looks like it's time for action!


I'm with you.


So, they've got guns. No biggy.


Kill them.

I could always cast a little bit of my magic to stun them to speed things up.


And that's that.



The sword will serve Virgil well. I waited till the doc returned to his house and set my next plan into motion. The bank guards are dead, just like the robbers. Perfect.


I'm here to make a withdrawal. REACH FOR THE SKY!

What the fuck? Get her, boys!


The dumb bitch ran into the vault, obviously intending to lock herself in.



Not a chance! We dashed in as the vault slammed shut behind us. I walked towards the safe with the slip of combination in my hands, making the withdrawal as a rain of blows sent the old teller to oblivion. The satisfying weighty sack's content entered my purse and I filched the vault's key from her corpse. Thanking her as I left.


To Tarant, boys!


Fuck. a pair of ogres with one human guarding my exit. This is too tough for me.

(Must I be blocked at every turn?!) Perhaps there is a way we might circumvent the fee?

"Perhaps...there may be something you could do for me. It seems my reputation here in town has grown expositionally,...I'm having trouble acting without the local constable's err, constant attention...they've gone and begun preparations for another bridge to the south of here. If there were some way you could implode their efforts, I'd appreciate it...we could make you an honoristical member of our crew..."

How exactly, would one IMPEDE their efforts?

"Shrouded Hills has recently received a shipment of construction materials. They're located right next to the bridge..."

Say no more, Lukan!


Get to work, boys!

It took minutes, and I returned to the Witless One.


(Sigh. Whatever.) Sure, Lukan. Go ahead, Shoot.

" Well, I'm not quite sure where you're headed, but just about any fair-sized metroglodyte should have what is known - to those IN the know - as the Thieves Underground.

(Interesting!) What, exactly, is the purpose behind this organization?

" The Underground is comprised of many groups of thieves all across the contingent. Any one of these groups will know of jobs that are available, and they make sure that no two thieves are doing the same job at once..."

Sounds pretty established.

" Very. A very secretive. They won't just talk to anyone either. You've got to be subtle and silent...you know...very thief-like."

Lukan! I don't think you make one mistake in that sentence!

"What do you mean?"

Nothing! Thank you for the information, Lukan. I'll be sure to check it out when I get to Tarant. Farewell!

Time to leave this dump. Eh...what?



Getting tired of this shit.

I recommend you get the hell out of my way, sir.

"Don't threaten me, stranger. Hand it over, or you're a dead man.."

Let's get it on, then!



Little shit didn't stand a chance, an orc on his back and stunning blows from my magick finished him easily. A quick search revealed the same cult amulet and a letter.



Guess they wanted to kill me.


Virgil, help me out here.
Sir?
Help me feed the fish. C'mon.


With a loud splash, the gnome disappeared into the depths of the river.

All done. Let's go to Tarant.[/url]

Needs MOAR xTREME though. Maybe you could have named the character SHEPHARD?

are you going the cheese route and get the vorpal bunny sword?

I have no idea such a thing existed. Please. Tell me more.

Eh, it's just the Stillwater blade. The name slipped me for a second. It has the spell "Succour beast" which summons a vorpal bunny at 100 magical aptitude iirc.
Get an elf with sold your soul, dark helm and some spells and you can get the bunny at a pretty low level.

Iirc followers also randomly use spells if their weapons provide it or healing from staves in inventory but not many followers would have a high enough magick aptitude to summon bunnies. Perhaps a dark helmed Zan Alurin.

I have to check that out sometime...hehe. Thanks for the tip.

If anyone can LP this fucker it's probably you. Good job so far.

Thanks. I'll try to finish it.

Finally, Tarant! After killing a bunch of wolves, and would-be assassins, it's nice to see a little bit of civilization isn't it, Virgil?
Yes, let's uh...find that P.Schuyler's shop...
Best to just ask a guard. Tarant's look big enough to get lost in.

Why thank you, is there any work to be had around here?

"You would have to ask around for any employment opportunities, I am not aware of any, per se," the guard politely replied.

No matter, let's shop a bit and sight-see, shall we? Hmm, that lady looks striking...


Why, you are correct! I am searching for gainful employment. (Can never have too much gold!)
We can't talk here. Please, meet me at my house later, and I will fill you in on my needs. I reside at 3 Lungsten Road. Good day.
I really like the sound of that! Good day, miss.
Ahem - P.Schuyler, sir?
On it, Virgil! Let's see what news these days...young man, a paper please! *hands the lad 2 coins.*

Hmph. Absolutely rubbish. One day, my name will be there and I'll....wait. They haven't gotten news of the Zeppelin crash yet?
Perhaps it's best if there isn't any news of it..else they may share news of the survivor.
You're quite right, Virgil. Oh, look, a tailor! Come, let's get myself some new threads!


As I left the store, dressed in my spiffy new smoking jacket, a man with a worried look on his face caught my attention. He was gazing at a sewer grating in front of him, deep in thought. It is obvious he is in distress.

What seems to be the problem, sir?

A pleasure. What are you doing out here on the street?
Oh, bloody bother! I woke up this morning, you know...took my early trip to the loo. So I'm washing my hands, and my wedding ring falls off! Right down the sink and disappears! And, I went out with the lads last night...we had a few pints too many, and didn't get home until late. SO! You know what the wife is going to think. I thought I might go down into the sewers and see if I could find it, but I hear dreadful things about the sewers.
Sounds like a problem. How much are you paying if I get it back for you?
Would you, now? I'd be so appreciative! If you were to go down there, and find the ring for me, I'd pay you 150 gold pieces!
It's a deal. Let's go Virgil!

Lots of rats, but I only have to get my shoes dirty. Squish 'em for me!

All done? Nice work...let's see...ugh. There it is..Gawd, let's get out of this shithole!

Gold is always good. Now to meet up with Ms. Pettibone...

My discretion depends on what you are asking of me, miss...?
Excuse me, where are my manners? I am Mrs. Cassandra Pettibone, wife of Basil Pettibone, lower assemblyman of gnomish conglomerate within the Industrial Council. Welcome to my humble abode.
(Damn, she's taken. By a gnome, too! What is the world coming to?!) Pleased to meet you...now about this job?
Here look at this.

Have you heard about the elven burial catacombs they've unearthed in the Morbihan Plains? Look at the engraving of this funerary stone! It is simply fabulous. I must have it!
(Ahh, the crazy lifestyle of the rich!) That seems a bit dangerous, what are you willing to pay?
I would be prepared to offer you 250 coins for your troubles.
(It's a little low...but I doubt I could negotiate.) I suppose 250 will suffice.
Excellent! Let me mark your map with the location of the elven tombs. Please hurry back with my treasure, I cannot wait to see Mrs. Willoughsby's face turn green with envy!
Sigh. OK, Virgil. Let's head to P.Schuyler's.

(This looks like the place..is the dwarf the door man?) I don't believe we've met. Your name is?

Excuse me. You don't have to take such treatment from this dwarf. Bloody annoying little runt, if you ask me...
Your opinion has been noted, Virgil.
I mean, look at him! Putting on airs like he's some sort of native dwarf...I'd be surprised if he's ever been out of the city in his entire life. You can always smell a city dwarf a mile away. He's probably got a manicure. His beard looks a bit scraggly, too. Probably out past his bed time.
*stunned for a moment* Virgil. That was awesome...And what seems to be the problem, sir dwarf?
I was saying that it was bloody rude of you to be asking me, a dwarf, for his name. It's not something to be thrown out and away like the day's rubbish!
Why don't you just have a cup of 'shut the fuck up', you're just a damn dwarf. What's so special?
You think you're made of the stuff to help me reign it in, outlander? You'd better be sure. A dwarf fights every battle as if it's his last....
*sizes the dwarf* (No weapons. To hell with him.) You're a dwarf? With THAT beard, I figured you for a halfling!


Well, that's that.
We could've just walked off, but I guess he asked for it.
Yup, let's see what's he got. Ooh, leather armor ...too bad it's midget sized. We can always sell this. And a book and an old bracelet. *flips through book* AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

What's so funny, sir?
Nothing, Virgil. Just don't follow what you read in books. Might get you killed. *chuckles* Dibs on his gauntlets.*wears it*
Well, shall we, sir? *pushes the door open*
Yeah, lets.

Hello, James. I'd like to inquire about this ring...it's made here isn't it.

"I'm very sorry, sir, but we don't guarantee the quality of our products unless they were purchased directly from us. Now if there's nothing else..."

No, you don't understand. Perhaps if I spoke to Mr. Schuyler?

"That's quite impossible. The Schuylers are extremely busy men, and I KNOW they can't be bothered with something as trivial as your concern with a product you didn't even buy..." James dismissed us in haste.

(Enough of this. A little intimidation might work.) Listen, Mr. Kingsford. I RECOMMEND you let me in here...

"On what grounds do you RECOMMEND that I let you in here?" he asked, slightly worried.

On the grounds that you're going to bleed, otherwise...



He fought hard, but our blades stuck onto him deep. I snatched the key from his pockets and unlocked the trap door leading to the Schuyler's office...or that's what I thought until we descended down the ladder...


I didn't know jewelers mine for their gems right beneath their office as well.
Best be careful, sir. I sense something...
Me too, Virgil.

No sooner I stepped deeper into the catacombs, a figure erupted from beneath the dirt, its hands reaching out at me!


Zombies!

Time to uneven the odds!

Deal with them!

Half a dozen more spawned from their graves. Virgil and the summoned creatures began to tire. But finally they prevailed. I quickly checked the surroundings for loot. A nearby chest was trapped, it unleashed a poisoned dart at me.

Goddamn, I hope whatever is inside is worth it!

Hell yeah!
Seems a bit small for your size, sir. But it is indeed magickal. Should fetch a good price.
Yep...can't you do anything about this blasted poison?
I recommend we ascend and recover our strength, sir. I do not have much left in me to cast another spell.
Oh well, we can sell the armor first, I guess.

Virgil recommends to get the item identified by a wise woman first to increase its price. Along the way, we ran across a curious shop called 'Madam Lil's.' It did not take long for me to figure out what they're actually selling.


(....mmm.) That is a little pricey...Do you have any inexpensive options?
Well, for 25 coins, we have a little something to satisfy our more deviant clientele, Belle, our sheep.
No. That's not what I meant.
Tell you what...I might have a little something for you to do, in exchange for some time with one of our girls. Are you interested?
OF COURSE I AM INTERESTED.
Cassie was over servicing Mr. Mooreland at his house last week...She left a beautiful ruby necklace behind. If you could retrieve it, I would make sure one of the girls took real good care of you ....

I didn't even let her finish the sentence before I made my run towards the Mooreland residence.


(Looks like the housemaid found it. Good.) I'm sure Madam Lil's will be glad you got to it first. Where is it?

"What are you gonna give me as my reward?" she asked.

I'm sorry you're not happy, but I've got to have that necklace back. And I'm not paying you a single gold for it.

She begins to pout, "I think I deserve a little sumthin' for my effort!"

All you deserve is a good beating from my henchmen if you don't give that necklace to me. Now.

Her face turned pale with fright and she hurriedly retrieved the necklace from her secret stash. "Here! Take it! Now get out, before I call the guards!"

And tell them what? You took someone else's property? Moron!



Yessssss. I rubbed my palms together gleefully...let's start from the rightmost girl.

I'm Alice. Have you been a bad boy?
Uh..um...bad?
I'll give you the chastening you need...make you pay for all you've done...Don't worry, I won't leave any scars...And when you've had enough, I'll use the searing heat of my lips to alleviate your pain....
Uh..uh...
Shall we begin?
Can I tie you up instead?
If that's what you want, then you need to talk to Cassie. I am here to give punishment...Shall we proceed to my chamber?
NO. The second girl must be it!
I'm Cassie. Would you like to teach me the proper way for a lady to behave?
What do you want me to teach you, Cassie?
I like it rough. Take your aggressions out on me. I'll be your little whipping post. ...I have some rope in my room, you can tie me up...if you'd like.


So it takes a real man to take care of you, eh?
Oh yeah! Give it to me like only a full-blooded human can! Let me feel your power!
Oh, I'll give you something, honey....
Oh, honey...I've been such a bad girl..Are you ready to take care of me?

I'm not going to read it until it reaches at least page 83.

RK, you should merge both Arcanum and ME universes at your LP.

Will be keeping an eye on this LP.

Looking good RK! Added to watch list.

Going to be interesting to see how you tell the story of Arcanum.

I've decided to resize the image sizes to 800x600, to allow easier reading of the text. Hope there isn't a problem with this. The main focus of the action is centered around it anyway.


That was....something. Virgil, help me up. *Gets up* Say, Virgil, have you been to Tarant before? Is there any more wonderful places like this? Or perhaps places to avoid? *buttons up his shirt*
Tarant? I don't, uh, know much about the place. *looks uncomfortable* I don't much like cities...always feel so crowded, hedged in. I'd rather not say anymore about it.
You're such a killjoy, Virgil. *walks out to the lobby*
How was it, sir?
My dear madam, is there anything else I could do to earn time with a girl?
Hmmm...let me think...Ah yes, I know just the thing. We have a particular patron whose been quite negligent in his payments of late. If you could persuade him to pay his debt...
Crystal clear, madam! Just point me to the right location and I'll get to it!
But mind you, don't hurt him. We don't want to damage the patrons.
Very well, let's go, Virgil. Looks like the fellow's at the Bridesdale Inn and owes the Madam 400 coins. *walks towards the inn* Virgil, what's a gentlemen's club?
Uh,...I'm not sure sir. Perhaps they're gentler men than the rest?
Ah, I see. Faggots. May I enter?


This isn't so bad...snooker tables, newspapers, and drinks. *walks to the counter* Bartender, a drink please. Why hello there, what's your name mister?
Why, I am the honorable...*hic* Shir M...Matt..de Cesare, esh *hic* squire.
I'm sure you are...sigh. Faggots can't handle their drink, after all. Hm, that cloaked figure at the end of the room looks out of place.
*Notices Alain's gaze* Speak up, human. Do not mumble.
Greetings. Might I ask who you are, sir?

(Fags.) Is that a fact? Perhaps you'd like to illustrate that point.
*he squares himself up to Alain* You don't know what you're doing, boy. I recommend you take yourself elsewhere.
(I love a good fight!) Bring it, FAG!

You pushed the wrong man, boy! *casts a spell*
Shit! A mage?!
Careful, sir!

I attempted to dodge the summoned ragged fighter while summoning two orcs of my own. Its punch hitting me on the gut. Hard. I quickly quaffed a stamina potion and cast a disabling spell on it.



It took several rounds while my orcs gave the mage a good beating. I knew that if the mage is taken down, the summoned undead would not exist without its master.



And the mage finally went down, and with him, the undead as well. I let my minions beat him to the afterlife before searching him for any valuables.

That was too close. You'd expect a few scrolls of magic or at least magical staff from such a mage...disappointing. *pulls a note out of the dead man's pocket*

So that's why he's got nothing on him! His valuables must be at this address! Let's go, Virgil.

Right, let's get a move on, Virgil. Oh wait, what's this newspaper..*picks it up*

Looks serious. Wonder if the culprit's been found? Must be a monetary reward in this. Perhaps a visit the Garringsburg residence is in order. But first, let's get Madam Lil's money back from that halfling.

Yeah...I know what you mean, but she wants her 400 coins...
I..I haven't got it. This job hardly pays enough to keep me housed...let alone support my...err..hobbies. I can spare 200 coins right now, but I do not have the 400.
I doubt she will be happy with half. Do you need some incentive?
*pales* I'm sorry! All I have right now is the 200 coins...But wait! The Bridesdale will pay me again in 5 days. If you come back then, I will give you the entire amount! That is the best I can do...
Hmph. Fine then, we'll back in five days! And you had better have it! Let's move along and find this warehouse, I bet it's near the docks somewhere! Oh look, it's the Garringsburg Residence. Let's check whether the painting is returned yet, shall we?
I don't know, sir. I think it's best not to get involved with more mess than we already have...

Nonsense, Virgil, where's your sense of adventure? *opens the door in* Hello. I don't believe we've met, madam...

My name is Alain Gilford. A please to meet you, madam.
Very good, Mr. Gilford! It's so nice to meet well bred individuals! Now, I hate to be rude, but I really must excuse myself. I have so much to deal with, what with the robbery and all...
(Aha! An opportunity!) Robbery! Madam! Is there anything I can do?
I'm afraid that there's little to be done, now. Two nights ago there was a break-in here at the mansion...in the morning we awoke to find that some of our most prized possessions has been stolen, including our beloved 'Kerghan and Persephone'...a Pizarro original...
I'm so very sorry. Have the police any leads?
The police had little luck in catching the criminals...it seems they've covered their tracks pretty well. And I so loved that painting...
Perhaps I could offer my services in finding the painting?
Oh, yes! I'd be most grateful! Would you really do that? I could offer you, oh, 300 gold pieces if you were to return it!
Of course madam! I'd be honored to take the job!

Further questioning of facts and such did not yield results, I decided to just wander the city in hopes I might yet find the painting, but back to the matter at hand. That elusive dead mage's warehouse! I walked past Madam Lil's and explained that the money will arrive 5 days later, before continuing my walk. The shop next to Madam Lil's caught my eye. The plaque states it as '77 Devonshire Way - Madam Toussaude's House of Secrets.'

Perhaps I should get my fortune told..

The door opens with a creak, the smell of herbs and spices is in the air.


(VERY exotic.) I see. Could I ask you a few questions, Madame?
Of course...I am here to seek answers to ALL your questions...
So what exactly is that you do here, Madame?
*She whispers, almost hissing* As I said, I am a seer. People come to me, with questions, and I do what I can to answer them. Sometimes I...have to seek answers in the lands of the dead.
(Creepy) Can you see my future?
*She gazes at Alain's face, smiling strangely* I've already seen your future, traveler. A strange one it is, at that...
(You're bluffing.) What? What do you mean?
*She whispers, darkly* Never you mind. The future is unknown, but inevitable. In the end, it always comes to be.
(Sigh. Just a con artist, then.) Gee, thanks...I'll be going now.

I exited Madade Toussaude's shop feeling slightly disappointed. I really thought there'd be magic involved. Guess some people are just milking its reputation. I continued my search for the warehouse near the docks, but realized that the address is not Mulligan Bone. A lone gnome stood outside the warehouse, and I decided to ask for more directions.

Hello, gnome, I was wondering, how do I get to Mulligan Bone Alley?

There was no answer.

Ahem, sir?

(Yeah, you and half the city.) So, what seems to be the problem?
I recently inherited these warehouses, here, and I need to sell them to pay off my debts. But I have a rat problem. A BIG rat problem. And no one will purchase them until the rats are eradicated.
(This seems beneath me...but..I guess the orcs won't mind getting their hands dirty.) How much would you pay me to help you with this vermin problem?
That is the problem, sir. I have no money, and I need the money the sale of these properties would give me, desperately. You can take whatever you find as you're cleaning them out as your payment, if you like. There should be at least a few valuable odds and ends of a technological nature.
(Seems like a bad deal, but I'm sure there should be at least 200 gold worth of junk in there if I pawn it off. Oh well.) Deal.

I head into the warehouse and find the main storage area locked. The small tool shed outside wasn't.

Just a bunch of rats, Virgil. Let me just summon a pair of orcs, just in case. *Casts spell* Ah. Here goes...*Turns the door knob*

Holy fuck. KILL THEM ALL!

Minutes later...

That's....gotta be the last of them.

I found a few dwarven ores and some spare parts..mostly junk really, a quick trip to the junk dealer earned me roughly 200 gold pieces.

Sir, I believe it's a telegram office over there. Remember Joachim's letter?
Oh, that's right, he's left us a telegram, didn't he? Let's go get it.

The telegram officer handed us our message in exchange for two gold pieces.


Stillwater? Sounds like another backwater village. I suppose we can visit this Panarii church when we have the time. What do you think, Virgil?
I don't know what to make of it. It seems that he thinks it very important to find out why these men are trying to kill you, much more important than being here to protect you...
I thought that was your job, Virgil.
It is, blast it! I'm sorry...I don't mean to get so angry. I just don't have any idea what's going on here. All I know is that Joachim showed me a better way, a new faith, and now I'm involved in something even I don't believe. What do YOU think?
(Oh, he's not a sheep, after all) Well, Virgil, I'm no religious fanatic. I think the whole story is a bit contrived....
*Looks angry* So you think me a religious fool? You think all this is just a coincidence? Perhaps a big misunderstanding? Why don't you just go ahead and tell that to the next man that comes to cut your bloody throat. Want to know what I think? I'd say there's nothing more contrived than a dead fool!
(I take it back, Virgil's a little unstable when it comes to his religion.) Sigh. Virgil, let's not argue about this. Let's look into the ring...
*Studies Alain for a moment, then nods his head* Yes..there is a particular wisdom in your words. *Laughs* And crying about this prophecy gibberish isn't going to keep a knife out of your ribs. I'll shut up for a while, and we'll concentrate on that ring. If we find the owner, maybe we'll find out why those bloody assassins want it so badly.
*Rolls eyes* Sounds fine, Virgil.
Alright. *He seems relieved* Listen, Tarant is a big city, and a man needs to watch what he does and who he talks to. Believe me, I know a lot about surviving in places like this. This, and worse. Just keep one eye always open, and one hand always on your weapon. You can't trust strangers, and sometimes not even your friends. I used to, uh...
(Huh. There's a lot I don't know about Virgil, it seems.) Sounds like you know a lot about surviving in the streets...
I used to..well...that was another time. *He looks down* I uh...know my way around. Just be on your guard, and I'll be watching out for you as well...
(He's hiding something.) Virgil...what is it? Where do you come from?
No! I don't want to talk about it! *Shakes his head* I'm sorry, I don't mean to...there's so much I have to learn. Joachim says the free man is defined by what he does today. I'll look no more behind me.
(Must've had a fucked up life before this recent conversion.) I see. Let's go Virgil.

Mhmmmm~

Padding the thread for next page. Hopefully. Oh, finally! I'll post an update soon!

- Polton Cross -

Damn it, this Mulligan Bone Alley better be close by. We've been wandering around for the last 15 minutes in Tarant! Hmm, what's this? 'Delores Beston, Seer of the Unnatural'. Come, Virgil, let's take a shade from the sun for a while! *opens the door and heads inside* Hello, madam. You must be Delores?

So, Delores, what is it you do here?
I talk with spirits, look into far-flung future to see what it holds for those who dare to look! I am a guide in the nether-realms , a mistress in the medium of the mysterious!
(Rightttt) Could you read MY future?
I'm very sorry, but currently I'm having a problem with my crystal ball. I dropped it the other day, and my visions have been foggy and unclear ever since. I've looked into finding another one, but, as you might guess, a crystal ball is a rare commodity..
(What an unusual excuse! Let's try my luck.) I'd assume so. Perhaps I could assist you in finding another?
*She smiles mysteriously* Yes. I thought you might say that. I have a feeling for such things, you know. From the moment you walked in here, I knew you were something special.
(This is getting a bit strange.) Let's not get carried away, madam...
I understand...not everyone is a believer. In any case..I would very much appreciate your help. If you were to find me a new crystal ball, I'll pay you 200 gold pieces. What do you say?
(Stranger requests have been made.) Of course. I'd be glad to assist you.
Splendid! Now...I may be able to assist you in finding one. As I told you, my crystal ball is not working correctly, but sometimes a physial piece of the person I am viewing helps to clear the vision. Might I have a lock of your hair?
Uhhh, sure.
Wonderful! *She takes out a pair of scissors and cuts a small lock of Alain's hair.* Now...we look into the ball, see what is to be seen. *She stares intently, waving the lock in front of her face* Cloudy, but something is coming clear...yes! I see where you might be able to procure a ball!
Yeah, where is it?
In the warehouse district...I see the bordello...there! A small shop just beside it...I see a sign...
Uh..Madame Toussaude's?
Yes! Within that shop is a crystal ball! Fidn her and you will find a crystal ball!
Do you know anything of her?
I can't say I've ever heard of her myself...there are so many self-proclaimed soothsayers in Tarant. More than likely she's some fly-by-night gypsy, out to make a quick buck. BUT! Be careful...you never know what to expect from these nomads.
I will, dear lady. Thank for the advice. I'll return with the crystal ball later...*Leaves Delores' shop* What do you think, Virgil?
Stranger things have happened, Sir.
You're quite right. Oh, look, the Tarantian Times paper is next door! Let's drop by! *Enters the office* Greetings, sir. Might I ask your name?
I'm Mr. Wright. Editor of the Tarantian, finest newspaper in all the land. Who are you?
My name is Alain Gilford.
What can I help you with?
Any jobs that I could do?

Well, I am...
*He whispers* Sir, it's not wise...those assassins will know of you!
Uh, right...Mr. Wright, I was actually looking for more a labor position.
Well...we don't have any openings here at the moment. Hmm, there's a small job you could do. It only pays 75 coins. Are you interested?
Money is always good.
Alright. Here. This is a payment note. I need it delivered to Mrs. Halster. Her house is located at the corner of Devonshire and Vermillion. Return to me after delivery, and I'll give you the 75 coin.
Such task is beneath me. Virgil, you'll do the honors.
Hmph.
Or I could always provide him with some newsworthy items?
Alright, alright. *He snatches the payment note from Alain's hand and leaves*
Servant of yours?
More or less.

Minutes later...

Here's the signed note. Can we leave now?
Aye, *Pockets the gold from Mr. Wright* Thank you, Mr. Wright. Goodbye. *Exits the Tarantian office*
Sir, I think I spotted someone of interest at the Vermillion Station.
Oh?
Remember the letter I found at the crash site?
Kinda. What of it?
I think he's the betrothed mentioned in the letter. We should give the news, but try not to reveal yourself as a survivor of the crash.
Ah well, let's get it over with then. *Waves at the station guard* You there, what's your name?

You're Jared? Do you have a girl named Wilhemina?
What?! What is it? Do you have word of her?
I have a note for you, from her. *Signals to Virgil to hand it over*
*He takes the note and reads it* Wilhemina! Where is she?
I'm sorry, sir. She's dead.
Nooooo! *He begins to sob*
My condolences, sir.
*He continues to sob for a few moments before composing himself* I know I've no right to ask this of you, but could you do me a favor?
Perhaps. Depending what is it you're asking.
Could you stop by the stone cutter's for me? I need a tombstone made for my...Wilhemina. It is very important to me. His shop is on the corner of Mulligan Bone Alley and East End avenue. Tell him to come round to visit me, I can't leave my post.
I suppose you expect me to do this for free?
Sir!
I am afraid I have no money to offer.
Sigh. Then you are out of luck.
No, I'll do it for you, for free!
You're welcome to do so, Virgil. Just take note of the directions, so we can find that warehouse later. Heh.
*Scowls at Alain before leaving*
I...I thank you. How did you come across this letter anyway?
Oh..we're just the rescue crew...happened to come upon it.
Thank you. *Sobs*

A few minutes later...

The stonecutter will come around tomorrow noon. Let's get a move on, sir.
Yes, Virgil. You've done some good today. While you were away I found a magick shop nearby. Let's head over there and see what pieces we can trade for.


That's a nice price.

Hmm..I need an exotic weapon. This...thing here..I think I'll take it. A chakram.
I'm glad you geared yourself up a bit, sir. Now, shall we resume our business at P. Schuyler's.
Fine, Virgil. We've delayed it long enough. Come. Let's crack some zombie's skulls.

Later at P. Schuyler's Basement...

Ready?
Yes.
O mighty destroyer, pureblood of ogre, the ultimate motherfucker, COME FORTH!

Zounds! He looks immensely strong!
I'm not done yet. *Clasps hand together* Twice as fast, let's kick arse!

A sound of clockwork echoes in the catacombs.

What was that?
A haste spell. This ogre will now make a mincemeat out of these zombies in no time flat. Let's hurry, I'm not sure I can maintain this spell for long. *Draws a deep breath*



The Ogre Destroyer lets itself be surrounded as the undead rose from the dirt below.



The outcome was never in doubt. We descend deeper into the Schuyler's basement.



Virgil was caught in a magical trap.



But the Ogre alone proved sufficient in dispatching the puny zombies and finally we reached a strange chamber where undead dwarves toil the halls. In search of answers, we pressed forward until we were stopped by three cloaked figures, obviously the overseer of this operation.


Forgive the intrustion, but I'm in dire need of some information.
Information? You've violated our home and our business out of the need for some information? That's utterly preposterous!
I can assure you that it's of the most importance.
I'll be the judge of what's important in my own home! What could you possibly need to know that justifies this outrage!
What, exactly is going on around here? (Aside from a bunch of undead raising mages.)
I'll be the one demanding answers around here. You've obviously NO idea what you've stumbled into...and your situation is only worsening. I'm not going to ask again. WHY ARE YOU HERE?
Fine. Please take a look at this ring...*Shows him the ring*
Ah yes, I see...a signet ring. And these letters G.B..more than likely they belong to the individual who purchased the ring from us.
I guessed as much. Could you tell me the identity of the owner?
Well, it seems we are at a crossroads, my friend. We, the Schuyler family, have been in business for more than 400 years. Never once in all that time we have betrayed the trust of a customer. And yet, here you are, and so much you've seen.
But exactly WHAT have I seen? What is going on down here?
I suppose it does no harm in telling you now. I am Winston Schuyler, and these are my brothers, Edward and Niles. The Schuyler name is an old name...one of the oldest families in all of Arcanum...we've traced our blood lines back to the Age of Legends and further. And always from the very beginning, we have practiced the darker arts.
What exactly do you mean by the darker arts?
Necromancy, my curious friend. Conjurings of the spirits, phantasmal speaking, the animation of the incurably dead. The Schuylers are a family who spend their time in the twilight lands, cowled in death and shadow.
(Fascinating) Necromancy? Has this always been the family business?
Yes...for as many generations as have been recorded in our family tome, the Schuylers have walked with the spirits of the dead. My great-great-great-grandfather was Conjurer-Witness to the chiefs of the Clan Wars, where the great machines of the dwarves leveled cities and mountains.
Interesting..please continue...
I told you before, we can trace our history back to the Age of Legends, where the great Necromancers ruled along with the Elven Council. The days when mighty Kerghan, perhaps the first of our kind, battled the Bane of Kree in the Dead Hollows, and the very stones burned there for three days in their passing.
That's fascinating. How did you go into business?
Oh, it's just the way things happen. My grandfather, Basil Schuyler, decided he was tired of the stigma which had risen around our family. You know, most people tend to stay away from Necromancers as a general rule.
Yeah, I can see why. And so..?
Well, he moved to Caladon and started a small business there. P. Schuyler and Sons. My father and my uncle were both still fairly young, but powerful in the arts. They used their powers to locate lost artifacts, and made a business of selling unique and rare jewelry. As you can see, the business has done fairly well.
I should say so. Your family built this store over the tomb?
Yes...we discovered the tomb more than 150 years ago, before Tarant had become such a great city. And so our family left their home in Old Caladon, and moved here. We weren't sad to leave there...some of the locals had begun to become suspicious of our activities.
No offense, but I can see why they might be a little leery...
Sadly, I can see your point. The world, for ones such as we, is becoming smaller. So few people remember the old ways, when magic was a part of everything and everyone. There was a time when we were legitimate businessmen, and no one blinked an eye at our operations..
It seems, as your said, we are at the crossroad. Where to go?
Yes, where? I seem to have something you need, and you hold something of ours as well....our anonymity. We are hurting no one here...the spirits of these dwarves are long gone, and we own the ladn upon which this tomb rests.
Well, I'm convinced. Maybe we can come to an agreement?
Yes, I think that might just be possible. If you agree to tell no one about our business operations, I will find out for you who owns this ring. Are we agreed?
Agreed.
Very Good! Now, for your information. Our records down here are very extensive, but it might take hours to find what we're looking for. We shall ask my father, Pelonius Schuyler.
And where is he?
Well, he is here and not here. As you can see, we've preserved his earthly shell down here...that's his body sitting in his favorite stuffed chair over there against the wall.
(Is he thinking what I'm thinking?) Hmmm. I'm at a loss...is this a standard necromantic practice?
Not really. But in his will, my father insisted that we...uh...exhibit him just so. He was always very protective of the business, and this way his way of reminding us of the Schuyler standards.
No offense, but just how talkative is uh...a rotting corpse?
In the case of re-animation, the necromancer deals rarely with the flesh...it's the spirits of the dead we converse with. This shell acts only as a medium for our impending conversation. Our father has little to do with this body as your spirit does with the clothes you currently wear. Do you understand?
Of course. It's a little unnerving, but I think I'll manage.
Very well. We shall proceed. I now call to the other side, the place of shades and shadows..we call upon you, spirit of Pelonius Schuyler, who walks now where we can only look. Do you hear us...?

A silent wind blew through the air. The temperatures dropped a few degrees as a red mist rose from the corpse of a human noble.



(Impressive! I must have this power someday!) I'm sorry. I don't believe we've met, sir...
No, I suppose over there we have not. Forgive me, my sight is not as your own, nor is my time...with these eyes I see the candle burning at both ends..this moment for me has happened a thousand times, and none...no matter. Why have you come? What is it you seek?
Forgive me, but it sounds like you might already know that.
And you'll have to forgive me...my words are perhaps a bit misleading. I do see both ends of the candle burning, but I also see all of the candles. Does that make any sense, traveler?
(Nope)
I cannot see what's in your heart, only what might be, and all of those endless possibilities. Some end in hope, others in despair, and some with you here among the spirits.
I see. Well, today I've come seeking the owner of this ring.
Yes, I know, a signet ring that we had made for a very important person. Important to us, but more important to YOU. I remember very clearly the making of this ring...the spirits called to us across the darkness as it was forged. They knew, somehow, all that would come in its making...
Uh..what are you talking about?
Not so simple, traveler. Nary a candle for those words...they're not mine to say. I come only as the first of many messengers...some from this side and some from yours. Be wary of them all. The river which separates us eddies around you, creating new flows. Navigate wisely.
(For fuck's sake!) You're speaking in riddles. I beg you, be more clear...
Very well. The ring. The man you seek is Gilbert Bates. There is nothing else I can tell you. And the dead call me back, traveler...I must return. Fare thee well...
Thank you, Pelonius.

The ghastly apparition disappears with a low moan...and the cold air disappeared without a trace.

It's been a pleasure doing business with you. Good luck wherever your travels may take you.
Aye, I thank you for your guidance. (I must get that power somehow. To talk with the dead! So much they could tell!) We're done here. Virgil, let's leave this place.

The bright and sunny Tarant noon greeted us as we emerge from the Schuyler's office.

*Stretches* Ahhhh. Hope the Schuylers don't get mad about their dead receptionist. So...Gilbert Bates. Let's find this guy.

I approve of this good shit.

Ah, here we are, Virgil. Madame Toussaude's little shop.
Are you sure this is wise, sir? What if she doesn't want to part with her crystal ball?
Then we'll make her an offer she can't refuse. *enters the shop*

Really? And why would that be?
I think you know why. *She looks at Alain, her dark eyes shining in the candlelight.* You've been speaking with Delores Beston. I know the real reason you're here, but I don't think YOU do...
What do you mean? She merely wants your crystal ball..
*She smiles, darkly.* Listen to me. Delores Beston came to my shop not three days ago, asking for her fortune. I told her traveler...and here we are. We are all a part of what is to come, and it is YOU that must choose....
*Sigh* Look, just tell me what's going on...
CHOOSE COWARD, OR I WILL CHOOSE FOR YOU! On which side will you fall? Mine, or Delores Beston's?
(This isn't worth the 200 gold. Maybe I just need to calm her down and get out of here while I still can...) Look, I side with you, okay? I'm just leaving...
*The fire in her eyes subsides. She whispers.* Very good. I believe you may have chosen wisely, traveler. You may have the crystal ball. I only ask that you take it to Delores and give it to her...
What? But I thought...
Things aren't always as they seem, traveler. I ask you do this for me...will you?
(Whatever.) Fine. I'll do it. *Takes the crystal ball and hurries out.*

Virgil, what the hell just happened?
I think she was about to do something terrible to you a while ago. Good thinking, sir.
Yeah, what about this crystal ball?
I suggest you throw it away and pretend this whole thing never happened...and don't even bother telling Delores about this!
No. I want that 200 gold. Look, there's no harm. I'm perfectly fine while holding this crystal ball. So we just drop it off at Delores' claim the gold and get out. Simple.
*Sighs* It's your choice, sir.

Later at Delores' Home....

Hello, Miss Beston, I've returned with the crystal ball...
*She looks surprised.* That's...well, that's just grand. Where did you get it?
Madame Toussaude, a medium in the warehouse district..

(Dammit, not another nut case!) I'm sorry..what do you mean?
Oh, if you must know...I'd heard rumors about her around town...people saying she could actually see the future! Rubbish! No one can REALLY see anything...it's all an act! I lie to those old ladies all day long...tell them exactly what they want to hear! So, I went to this Madam Toussaude, and I told her I wanted to see MY future...
(Gee, you just told me that you're nothing more than a liar.) And what did she say?
She told me that a stranger would walk into my store one day, and that he would be my death. Can you believe it? My death! So, when I saw you come in here, you can imagine my surprise,...and my fears...
(OK, this is the part where I kill her because the gypsy mind controlled me? Hmm...Nope. Nothing.) Of course...
But don't you see the irony? You've gone and killed her! SHE was the one who needed to fear you...not me! I broke my own crystal ball, just in case someone did show up..and in the end, you kill HER, and I get her crystal ball thrown in just for good measure! HA! So much for old Madame Toussaude....
I never said she was dead, Delores...
WH-H-AT? How did you get the ball..?
She gave it to me. To give to you....
I don't...no...please..get it away from me...!
(Just get this thing away from me, dammit!) It's a gift, Delores. Just for you...*Hands it to her*

ZOUNDS!
Motherfucker!
*Kneels to get a better look.* Is she?
She's dead, Virgil. That gypsy must've cursed the crystal ball to react only to Delores. *Gazes at the Crystal Ball on the floor.*
Should we tell the authority?
Heavens, NO! We're the only ones here! And you think that gypsy would admit that SHE gave us the crystal ball? THINK, man!
You're right, let's leave.

Later....
Sir, I believe it's time to find this Gilbert Bates, the owner of the ring.
No, Virgil. There's still this address I want to visit. 57 Mulligan Bone Alley...Ah, here it is! Looks like a warehouse...

*Enters the warehouse.* Hello?

No, actually I think we have the right address! *Summons an ogre.*

Get him!

The lone ogre guard was no matched to the combined might of the party.

Jackpot. He's got the key, whatever he's guarding must be worth it, *Fits the key into the lock.*

Holy shit! It's the painting robbed from the Garringsburg's!
Amazing! Imagine the reward...And the fame...it will bring...
*Pauses* You have a point here, friend. If we return it to the rightful owner, she won't be able to keep a lid on it and we'll be on the Taranthian front page tomorrow morning.
Perhaps an anonymous drop?
And deprive us of our rightful reward? Nay! I've a better idea! Come!

Later...near Madam Lil's...

Gotta be here somewhere...seedy parts of the town...
Sir, just what are you looking ofr?
The Thieves Underground! The one that idiot Lukan mentioned!
Perhaps we should ask around..
Yeah, oh look, it's Madame Toussaude's, let's ask her some questions, shall we?
You're taking a really foolish risk, sir.
I know, Virgil, and that's what makes it so exciting. *Enters the store.* Hello, Madame, I delivered the crystal ball...dreadful business, that...

Actually, I've already found the painting...
I see. Perhaps there's something else I can offer you. *She closes her eyes, waving a hand in front of Alain.* There.
What? What did you do?
You'll find out, in time. Trust me, you'll be happy when you find out.
(Better not push my luck.) Thank you, then, in advance. Good day to you. *Exits the store*
That went better than expected.
Yeah, I guess. Let's ask around inside Madam Lil's. *Enters the brothel and approaches the man at the bar counter.* Excuse me, sir. Would you happen to know a fellow named Lukan?

Not really. He mentioned an underground of thieves, though...
Oh he did, did he? He never did know when to keep that silly mouth of his shut. What about it, then, eh? Fancy yourself a thief, do ya?
Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.
Well then, you need to be makin' the acquaintance of a right good bloke a' name of Thaddeus Mynor. He's the Underground contact for this area. You should pay him a visit, his house is on the corner of Westrel South and Quilton Bend. I'll send a word for him to expect you.
Thank you, I think.

It took us a while to find Thaddeus' home...


I'm listening.
The Thieves Underground is a loose confederacy of all the major thieves in all the major cities, ya see? We look out for each other, and collect useful information on the goings on in our respective cities. If you're bein a part of the Underground, there is always someone to talk to in a city that can tell you what ya might need to be aware of, jobs and such.
So I go to the Underground to get my jobs?
We have an interest in most any job worth doing, but that's not to say ya can't freelance a bit, if ya know what I mean. When you get your jobs through us, though, we've generally got the whole thing sussed out, and we've attended to any details that may need attendin'. All we ask in return is a small portion of the take.
What if I say no?
Don't get me wrong, we ain't no enforcers. If you don't want to be a part of this, you can simply go on your way. I must warn you to never talk of this, though, regardless if you join or not. We must protect ourselves, you understand.
You've have no problem with another thief working in your cities?
Why would we? As I said, we have an interest in any job worth doing. The only way for you to become involved in important jobs is through us. But there's always places to rob, stores and such. We're mostly concerned with the big coin.
Sounds good. Count me in.
Just because I've made the offer doesn't mean you're in, boy. You need to do a job for us, then you'll be a member.
Okay, what's the job?
Alright, then. Tarant has a fairly extensive sewer system, right? One could use the sewer system for access to quite a number of locations where one has no right to be, eh? Trouble is, it is easy to get lost down there. We've had several try to map them out, with little success. Most of them don't return.
So you want me to map them out?
Don't be daft, man! I just told you we've lost several good people attempting to map them already. We need someone to get the old city plans that have the full layout of the sewers. The city managers have decided that only authorized blokes can see them. They think people might use them for the nefarious purposes, eh?
Where are these plans?
They're in the dept. of water, in city hall at the 87 East End Avenue, just past the Bates' mansion. When you bring the plans back, I'll make you a full member.
I accept your proposal. I will return with the plans. Good day.
Oh, I forgot to ask you if you'd be interested in selling a certain painting that you seem to have acquired.
I thought you'd never ask, how much are you offering?
I could give you, say, 300 coins.
Agreed.
See, I told you associatin' with us would be profitable. I will see you around then, eh?

Later...at the Dept. of Water Office...

Sir, I must insist, we are not even qualified thieves, I doubt we can pull this off.
Won't hurt to try.
Excuse me, gentleman. Where am I?

I need to get the plan of the sewers underneath Tarant.
I'm sorry, sir. That is confidential information. I am sure you have a legitimate reason for wanting it, but there are others about of a more unscrupulous nature, shall we say.
I understand. Good day. *Leaves the office.*

Sir, the guards there are heavily armed, and I don't think you're agile enough to pickpocket him. We don't even know if he's holding the plans with him.
Hush, Virgil. I'm trying to think. I peeked at his locked room, there's a safe in there. It must be there!
Sir, I must object! It's suici-
Alright, Virgil! Let's book a room for the night! We need a little bit of rest before we head over to this Gilbert Bates fellow.
I'm very relieved you agree, sir.

Later...


I will be in town for a while. I would like a room for one week.
Oh! But of course...The fee for one week is 175 coins, sir.
You don't offer a reduced price for payment in advance?
I am sorry, sir. Bookings have been extremely busy of late. I am quite surprised we even have a room available. I am certain it will not last long, should you decline to take it.
*Sigh* Here it is, then.
Thank you, sir! You will find your room just down the hall. You'll have use of it for the next seven nights. The door will be unlocked. I do hope you enjoy your stay.
Thank you. Let's go, Virgil.
Sir, did I hear correctly, a week?
I figure this Bates fellow will be slightly difficult to meet. We'll need a place to stay at the mean time. Let's get some rest. Wake me up near evening.
Very well, sir. Pleasant dreams.

Later that evening...

Sir, it's evening. Would you like to rest some more?
No, Virgil. Thank you. *Gets up* I'd like to visit the neighboring Gentleman's Club if you don't mind, go ahead and have a rest on the mean time.
I think I am sufficiently rested, sir.
No, Virgil. I insist. I won't take long...
Very well, sir. Wake me up if you have need of me.
Of course, Virgin. *Grins.*


That was too easy. Let's get that plans.

Later at the Dept. of Water Office....

You again? I told you already, those plans are not available for public view and you certainly do not have the authorization to view it...now if you excuse me, it's getting late, I must retire to my quarters. Good night ,sir. *Walks towards his quarters.*

Now's my chance! *Dashes in*
What the-
Shut up. *Summons Ogre*

Silence him!

The Ogre grips the poor man's throat tightly. Finally, with a loud crack, the victim's struggling cease immediately.

Good boy.

Come on, where's the key, old man?

Got it! *Puts key into the safe and turns it.* Yes!

Time to get out of here...they won't find out till morning. Heh heh.

Back at the inn...

Heh, looks like Virgil is still asleep. Guess I'll tuck in as well.


The next morning...

Good morning, Virgil! Ready to go?

Aye, let's go.

Mwahahahahahaha!

Right, now we have to set up a meeting with the owner of this ring, Gilbert Bates.
He sounds very important, sir. I'm quite sure any random pedestrian would know of him.
Perhaps you're right, Virgil. Excuse me, sir. Do you know Gilbert Bates?

Why is that a laugh?
He hates old Gilbert, he does. Sends him into a complete frenzy if you mention Bates' name to him. He's always trying to discredit Bates somehow or other.
Why?
Jealousy. Bates is a genius, and Appleby couldn't make a decent steam engine to save his life.
I see. Thank you for your time.
It looks like meeting with Bates would be very difficult.
It won't hurt to try the front door.

Later, outside Bates mansion.


Attempt on his life?
Mr. Bates was attacked in his study by some fanatic. Thank the gods Chukka was there to snap the intruder's neck before he could do any harm.
Chukka?
Chukka is Mr. Bates' bodyguard. Mr. Bates saved his life somehow, years ago. Chukka has been at his side ever since.
Nevertheless, it is imperative that I see him.
Well....we've been having some problems with saboteurs at the factory. If you could "take care" of them, I am sure Mr. Bates would want to thank you personally.
I'll think about it, I must be off.
Sir, why did you not accept?
Hardly a gold in that, besides, I'm sure we have options. Let's visit this competitor of his, Cedric Appleby...

Later, near Low Dervish Way..

Look, Virgil. A Panarii Temple.
I recommend you visit it and speak with the priest for some information.
Oh, very well, I suppose learning more of the Living One wouldn't hurt.

What can you tell me about the Panarii?
The Panarii church is based on the teachings of Nasrudin, an elf who lived during the Age of Legends. As head of the Elven Council, Nasrudin acted as a guide for all the races, until the rise of Arronax and his evil followers. Nasrudin waged war, and Arronax was defeated...the Panarii Church was founded some time after that.
What is the Age of Legends?
The Age of Legends was a time between 1500 and 2000 years ago, a time when magick was a much larger part of the world than it is today, before the mages left for Tulla. A time of dragons and knights and kingdoms. The time of the Elven Council...
What was the Elven Council?
The Elven Council was a group of elves and mages who oversaw the well-being of all the races of Arcanum. They were ruled by Nasrudin, a wise and powerful elf who was head of the council for 1000 years.
Tell me more about Nasrudin.
Nasrudin was the benevolent leader of the Elven Council. For 1000 years he ruled all of Arcanum, and brought peace and properity to all of the races. His teachings are recorded in the sacred Archeaon, and are the cornerstone of all Panarii beliefs.
Are there any prophecies that he will return?
Yes...it is called the Prophecy of the Living One. It is written in the Archaeon that one day both Nasrudin and Arronax will return to Arcanum and fight the final battle....
I don't understand. Isn't Nasrudin dead?
Yes..he's been dead for a long time. The literal meaning of the prophecy is unknown...many believe that they will be both reincarnated, or that the prophecy is a metaphor for something more contemporary. The truth is, we just don't know...
And who is Arronax?
Arronax was an evil elf, who came into power during the Age of Legends. He believed that only he and his followers were fit to rule, and decreed death to all of the races. Nasrudin, in his mercy, came to our defense and I, quote from the Archaeon "...defeated Arronax, banishing him forever to the Void."
What do you mean "banished"?
We're not quite sure...banishments no longer happen. We believe that it took powerful magick to do so, and once banished, that person never returned. But the Archaeon speaks of it, and so we believed...
No one else ever been banished?
The Archeon speaks of others who suffered the same fate as Arronax. There are four who were listed by name - Gorgoth, Kraka-Tur, Kerghan, and the Bane of Kree. They were all evil beings, but none were so evil as Arronax. If you ever see the Archaeon, you can read more about them.
What is the Archaeon?
The sacred book of Nasrudin's teaching? It is housed in the First Temple of Panarii in Caladon. You can it there...
*Notices that Virgil is starting to yawn* Well, thank you for your time. I must go.
I'm glad you stopped by, my friend. Would you like a pamhlet before you go.
Sure.
Here you go! In the name of Nasrudin, farewell!

Bah.
How do you feel after hearing the whole story, sir?
I don't think I'm capable of accepting anything. The assassins are no coincidence. My survival...perhaps is a major test of faith to these fanatics. However, they may have gotten the wrong man. Let's move on.

This is the place. Appleby's Residence. *Enters the building.* (Gee, what a dump, the guy's home is doubling up as his workshop.) Oh, hello, I did not notice you there! Are you Mr. Cedric Appleby?

(Let's massage his ego a bit.) I had no idea you were THE Cedric Appleby.
That is correct, sir. Cedric Appleby. Scholar, gentleman, businessman, and owner of the second largest steam engine company in all of Tarant.
(Well, since there's only two of you...) Why aren't you the largest?
It's that damned charlatan Bates, being hailed as a hero....Hah! I spit on him! His intelligence is but that of a gnat's compared to mine!
What do you know about Gilbert Bates?
Gilbert Bates is a common thief, nothing more. I have known him since childhood, until he began consorting with the dwarves. They gave him the steam engine, I'm sure of it! And everyone thinks he invented it!
(Dwarves are plausible. But this man is not exactly the most sane person around.) Do you know anything about the recent attempt on his life?
Heh, heh. I have often entertained such fantasies, but death is too easy - something that uncouth assassin obviously didn't understand. He must be exposed, humiliated, made to suffer - much as he has made me suffer all these long years!
If not brutal violence, then what?
I am unsure that you are worthy of my trust. The trust of Cedric Appleby is not an easy thing to gain, as I can read most men as if they are an open tome.
I assure you, I can be trusted.
We shall see. Would you be interested in proving it?
Of course.
Bates is working on a new steam engine design, which, of course, he stole from me. I need you to destroy the prototype.
How will this humiliate and expose him?
It is clear to someone of my advanced abilities that your intellect has difficulty following my reasoning. Consider this a preamble to the inevitable ruination of one Gilbert Bates, as well as a test of your trustworthiness.
(Geez, fine!) I accept your proposal.
Stupendous! Here is some dynamite to expedite your mission of destruction. His factory is in close proximity to his house, you can't miss it. At the tail end of Ten Hands Alley, to be precise about the matter.
I shall return when the job is completed.

Later, outside the factory.


I still don't see why we shouldn't just rat him out to Mr. Bates. He would indeed show his gratitude!
But would I get paid? C'mon Virgil, the front door's heavily guarded, find another entrance.

This side door looks inviting...but perhaps there's another one further in...

Bingo.
It's locked, sir. It's too complex for me to pick.
That's fine, Virgil. Step back.


Alain light the fuse and dashes away in time before an explosion was heard, strangely, it was accompanied by a scream.


Whoa, did we kill someone?

Must be a patrolling guard.
Well, grab his armor and wait here. I'll be right back!


Guards patrol within, but with a little timing, Alain evaded detection.


This is it. Let's smash this sucker! *Summons Ogre*

All done!

Later, at Appleby Residence...


Now that I've done your job, can you get me into Bates' house?
Most decidedly, my friend. Oh, if only I could see the look on Gilbert's face. Oh, excuse me. Here are some servant's clothing. Tell the guards at the front that you are the new replacement.
Great plan.
When you are inside Bates' domicile, I would be ecstatically grateful were you to find some sort of incriminating evidence to help me humiliate and expose Bates for the fraud he is.
Consider it found.

Later, outside Bates' Mansion...

*Dons servant clothing.* This is it, Virgil. Wait here, I'll be back soon.
Be careful!
Excuse me, sir. I am the replacement servant.

That went smoothly. I better not mess up, the guards are heavily armed and looks highly experienced.

What a luxurious home! Bastard's must be the richest man in Tarant!


Nowhere at the first floor. Time to move upstairs.

(Rats.) I'm not a servant. I need to speak with you about this ring. *Shows the ring.*
Great Gods! How did you come by that ring?
A gnome gave it to me as he lay dying.
A gnome! What manner of tomfoolery is this? Are you certain it was not a dwarf?
Of course. I've never seen a skinny, beardless dwarf.
Yes. I am...familiar with dwarves and their costums. Tell me, was there anything distinctive about this fellow?
(Hmm.) He had a scar over his left eye.
By Alberich! I knew it in my heart - that was no gnome. It was Stennar Rock Cuter. *He is visibly shaken by this realization.*
I suppose it could have been a sick dwarf, but his beard....
Yes, I know. It is madness...but please, tell me, did he say anything to you before he died? Did he say anything about, uh, about me?
He said he had escaped to warn us about the evil...
The evil? What evil? And where did he escape from?
He didn't say. I was hoping you would know what it meant.
Something horrible must have happened after I...after I...*His voice trails off. He is obviously too distressed to continue.* Did he...did he say anything else?
He referred to you as a boy. Why would he do that?
I do not know. Even though dwarves reckon time differently than humans, he must have realized that I am now an old man. Perhaps it is because I was buy a boy when I...when I betrayed his trust, all those years ago.
How did you come to betray him?
That, that is quite the long tale...a tale of my shame, it is.
I'm listening.
It is ironic that my greatest mistake is that which brought me such wealth. As a youth, I as enamored of all things dwarves, so I sought out the nearest clan and attempted to impress them with my grasp of their technology. They laughed. It was obviously a novelty to them, a ridiculous human who had a natural bent towards technology. I suppose it didn't help that I was a mere 14 years old at that time. I became something they humored to entertain themselves. Stennar was the only one who truly called me friend in all those years, and betrayal is how I repaid his friendship. It was he who first showed me their steam engine, as he knew I could appreciate the beautiful intricacies of its design.
(So it's true. Bates did steal the technology from the dwarves...and claimed it was his invention!)
They had left it to rust in a corner, as they had very little use for a device that would reduce the need for sheer physical power. Imagine a dwarf relying on a device to do his digging for him! It's preposterous. I asked him if I could tinker with it, perhaps improve on it, as I knew this was the key to becoming truly a part of the dwarven world. I quickly devised a way to use it to power a pump for draining the mines. When I fell all over myself trying to explain it to them, laughter was, once again, their only response.
(I don't understand why the dwarves are acting like complete retards. They had the tools, yet they refused to use it? Why the illogical actions?)
I knew I had to somehow gain their respect, so I hastily sketched some schematics and set out to prove my theory. The struggling human mining company that I brought the plans to offered me a share in their mines for the steam pump! I was ecstatic - I had not a care for their mines or their money, I desired vindication!
(And that was probably the first dwarven technology used by humans.)
When I returned to the dwarves to boat of my accomplihments and be welcomed into their clan...they were gone.
(What?!)
The inventions came quickly after that, fueled by my anger and confusion. How could they have denied me my place amongst them after all my labors? Somehow, I felt I could still prove myself to them. I continued searching for them in all my spare moments, but to no avail. But then, they came - the robed ones.
(The Molochean Hand?)
They appeared to me late one night and they warned me to never speak of, nor try to find, the dwarves again. Still being a mere lad, you can imagine the terror that put into me. As my wealth and power grew, I shook off some of my youthful fear and hired the first in a long chain of investigatiors to locate Stennar and his clan.
(I guess his wealth afforded him some serious protection.)
None of them ever returned with any worthwhile information, and some never returned at all. The ones that did told of vicious traps and creatures attacking them from the shadows. As word of these failures spread, it became more and more difficult to find souls brave enough to take on the challenge.
But why did he send me here with your ring?
He knew that ring would lend veracity to your tale. I gave Stennar that ring the last time I saw him. And now he is dead...*He pauses to compose himself.* If only we knew what he meant by "the evil."
The Panarii think the "evil" refers to someone named Arronax.
I don't put much stock in religious ramblings. I'm more concerned with who killed Stennar, and why, and what all this has to do with my relationship with the Black Mountain Clan.
So what is to be done, now?
There must be some clue left in the Black Mountain mines, I'm certain of this. You seem to be a resourceful individual, would you be interested in searching the mines for some clue as to their whereabouts? I would make it worth your while, I can assure you.
(Not so fast.) I'd like to ask you some further questions before I commit myself.
Of course. What do you wish to ask of me?
What can you tell me of the recent attempt on your life?
They're not much, really, as Chukka is given to overzealousness in his protection of my person. He rendered the interloper lifeless before I could question him. All he had on his person was an amulet bearing the symbol of the Molochean Hand, the eye in the hexagram. They were a religious order of assassins some 500 years ago. Rumors of their continued existence surface periodically, but are unusually proven to be hoaxes. I figure this for a new group trying to adopt some of the prestige of the name.
They seem to be after me as well.
Let us hope for both our sakes that they are mere pretenders to the name, then. I would be loathe to have the authentic Molocheans out for my blood.
Why do you suppose they tried to kill us?
I do not know. But I am beginning to believe they are behind Stennar's death. This all seems to be pointing to my involvement with the Black Mountain Clan, doesn't it? That is why I feel it is imperative to find out their fate. Our lives seem to be dependent on it, in fact.
Some of our lives more than others, eh?
*He looks at his enormous bodyguard.* Yes, it would seem that I am well-protected here, but the more staff one has, the easier it is for one of them to be bribed or replaced with an assassin. Also, my notoriety keeps me a prisoner inside my house. They will always know where to look for me. You, on the other hand can blend with the crowd, so to speak.
(He's got a point there.) You didn't actually invent the steam engine?
I have never actually claimed that I did. It was just people's assumption. I have invented any number of devices based off its principals, but I did not invent the first one.
Is that not dishonest? Taking credit for something you didn't do?
Yes it is, and it torments me every day. I was but a child when the robed ones gave me their dire warnings, and I was terrified. They were explicit that I was not to reveal the origins of the steam engine.
(Wait a minute, that doesn't make any sense...Why would they do that? Aren't they out to ruin Bates? Why didn't the Molochean Hand killed Bates before he was succesful?) Why the need to impress the dwarves after they rejected you?
You don't understand, I was...I was orphaned at a young age. The dwarves represented everything I wanted my family to be - a tight knit clan. And the respect I had for their brilliance with technology...I made the mistake common to youth, IU thought intelligence equaled compassion. I needed to belong, to find out that I had some worth.
You were orphaned? What happened?
My mother died bringing me into this world. I believe my father died then as well, even though he continued to exist in the world for some eight more years. When he could stand living no longer, he took his own life.
(Poor little rich sod.) But abandoning you like that....
He left me decently provided for, and with his grasp on reality becoming more tenuous each day, I believe he felt I would be safer in the care of others. *He shakes his head sadly.* The last thing he did in this life was to give me that ring.
And then you gave it to Stennar?
That is how much his friendship meant to me. I was devastated when he disappeared with the rest of the clan. I believe I felt more deserted and alone then, than I did when my father killed himself.
(Something about the story doesn't add up. The dwarves disappearance, the cloaked figures...) Can you tell me about your business?
Well, as you know, I am the foremost manufacturer of steam engines in Arcanum, virtually without competition. I am working on a prototype for a smaller, more efficient engine right now, as a matter of fact. I also have various interest in other technological endeavors.
How have you devastated your competition so?
It's not much of an accomplishment when old Cedric Appleby is your chief competitor. Poor Cedric. Always was a bit of a blundering fool. I really wish I could have convinced him to come work for me.
Why? I mean, if he's such an idiot?
Cedric and I were close friends when we were children. He was furious that I wouldn't introduce him to the dwarves...Can you imagine? I had a difficult enough time gaining their respect without his simple-mindedness. After I "invented" the steam engine he began to despise me. Strangely enough, I wish he was still my friend some days.
(No, Appleby is not the mastermind. He's not that smart. Someone else is pulling the string, someone more powerful, with a bigger aim.) Well, I'm sorry I took much of your time, Mr. Bates. About that job offer, I'll return when I'm ready to accept it.

The old man looked very disappointed, yet remain hopeful. I know my path will take me there soon. The Molochean Hands must be watching the mansion around the clock, and I've exposed myself as soon as I stepped near it. I have to unravel the mystery before they get to me, but first, I need to prepare myself.

Outside the Mansion...


How was the meeting, sir?
Fruitful. But I need more time.
I see. Did you learn anything about the ring?
*Holds the ring.* I think we're on to something big, Virgil. And despite my great skepticism of this Living One prophecy, I cannot shake the feeling that it's related. I need to prepare myself for the great task before me. Let's return to the inn.
Very well, sir.

Later that night,



Locked. Must be a window near the alley. *Summons Ogre* Break it down.

Forgive my trespass, madam. *Gestures at the Ogre, who held the short lady by the throat with a slicing throat motion.*

The goods must be inside. Break the chest.

Yes...it's here...Begone. *Dismisses the Ogre.*


The next morning...

Recommended music to set the mood: Countdown

Tarant.


By the gods.
What have we got, Jim?
Armed robbery, from the looks of it. Poor guy was killed in his room, someone raided his safe and made his way out.
These are a series of hard blows. No human would be capable of such force.
An ogre?
Yes, most possibly.
I'll tell the rest of the guards. Thanks, Bruce. City's been on the edge lately. Something foul has happened to Tarant.
I know Jim, that murder at Madam Lil's, could it be connected?
Could be the same ogre. He broke in from the window, poor old lady never stood a chance. Made away with some jewelry, I heard.
Unusually intelligent for an ogre, don't you think?
What are you trying to say?
Nothing, Jim. Just a gut feeling.

Elsewhere...


Are we there yet?
Just a few more days, sir...according to Mrs. Pettibone the Elven Ruins is undergoing excavation at the moment, not sure if the workers there would let us get away with one of the stones.
We'll just have to see, won't we?

A few days later...


Uh..nothing. I was just traveling the countryside...
I don't believe you. I will ask you once more, what are you doing here?
*Whispers* Best not push your luck, sir.
I was sent here to retrieve something.
What do you mean, "retrieve somethig"?
(Fuck it.) Some rich society woman paid me to get a funerary stone.
So you just thought you'd come here and desecrate our holy ground?
I had no idea. I just needed the money. I am truly sorry.
Tell us who she is, and we will let you go.
(She can't pay me enough.) Mrs. Pettibone. She lives at 21 Lungsten Road in Tarant.
You are free to go...but I warn you, never return. You have two minutes to leave this place.
Let's go, Virgil.
I think we just doomed Mrs. Pettibone...
I know that! Let's return to Tarant to find out if that's the case!

Meanwhile in Tarant....


I...I don't know what to say.
Mmm. Two guards, and a woman killed in broad daylight.
Look at that ceremonial dagger stuck in the lady's torso...
Ritual killing...elven?
I don't like this one bit...that's four people killed in less than a week. You think they're connected?
This one's different, Jim. The cuts use too much finesse to be an ogre. No one saw anyone entering or leaving. They must've used teleportation magic.
Blast it! If only we could just conjure spirits and ask them what happened!
The victim's family would not allow it...we'll just have to do it the hard way. *Sighs.* We're done here, get the coroner.

Days later...

Boy, give me a newspaper. *Tosses two coins.*

Shit. They got to her first.
Should we tell the authorities?
No. Let's return to the inn. I'll think of something. We need some good rest.

And night falls...


I'm sorry, Virgil. Underground contact bounties for tonight are....*reads note*

Morning comes...


*Takes a deep puff from his cigar.* Un-fucking-believable.
H.T Parnell, museum curator and Gar, the world's smartest orc. They were headed to bed when someone killed both of them. Mr. Parnell got a shot off his shotgun, Gar didn't stand a chance, he was completely unarmed. But no blood trail nor bullet holes except on the victims...most curious.
Is it the ogre?
Yes...

..and no.

A constable arrives and whispers some hushed words to the elderly sergeant.

Bruce, we've got more bodies. At the Zoological Society.
Let's go.

The Zoological Society


Dr. Tristan Fenwick...current exhibits are mostly Dragons. I really can't fathom a motive here, Bruce. The receptionist is just in the wrong place at the wrong time...what was the monster after?
The doctor died first. The ogre sliced off a chunk of the torso, severing the right arm in the process. Loss of consciousness and blood loss.

The safe's empty. Lots of dust, but a single round spot is clean. A bottle of substance was removed here. The suspect leaves the room with a bloodied sword, the receptionist was too stunned to move, and the ogre beheads her head in one swift motion.
I think I'm going to be sick.

Hours before....

Huff...huff...so far so good. This is the last one...I'm getting stronger...Come forth - from the depths of hell! OPEN THE HELLGATE !

Kill...them...all...


Present time.

I've HAD ENOUGH. What are we dealing with, Bruce? What sort of maniac would do this overnight? What is happening to our fair city?
*Closes his eyes. Draws a deep breath.* It wasn't the ogre. Something massive broke the front door. Alarmed, the ogre bodyguard awake to defend his master. It was no match to its massive claws. A fatal strike severed the ogre's left arm. The gnome cowers in one corner, begging for mercy as the beast advances towards him.

Then it was over. Someone else...not the beast removed a ring from the dead gnome's finger...as indicated by the indentation on his finger.
We need something. ANYTHING! Or the mayor will have our heads if we don't!
An ogre, an elf, a demon. What are they?
*Thinks hard* Magical?
A summoning elf mage.
Let's go.

Minutes later...


What happened here I wonder?
I asked the doorman about it, sir. He said there was an armed robbery last night, the occupants of this house were killed.
*Smiles.* I see. Let's return to Bates. I think the assassins are on the move. We need to make ours as well.
Yes, sir. Let's hurry.

*fapfapfapfapfapfapfapfap*

But Gar?