post "The Reverend"
The Rendezvous
You are en route to the Café rendezvous when you hear a noise down a nearby alley way. Suspicious, you draw your weapons and tactically enter.
Suddenly, a raspy voice startles you from behind…
“Glad you could make it.”
You attempt to fire your weapon, but the masked man deftly executes a non-lethal parry, and disarms you, before returning your weapons back to you.
“I have the information you need. Listen.”
You find yourself drawn in, strangely intrigue, and feeling a sense that you trust this man for some unknown reason. He reaches out, and hands you a scrying orb. The moment you take it from him, you have an instantaneous flood of memories form in your mind. You can tell that the masked man used some sort of magical item to transfer his memories to you…
The Memories (Seen from the perspective of the Vigilante)
“It is the last night of Winter, the moon in full term gleaming over the city rooftops through the dark clouds rising into ether. You breathe deeply the warm, wet air blowing off of the bay. It stinks.
The Factory smoke chokes the air with the afterbirth of the night's industry. The workers don't sleep; they just rest in their time-shared bunks on the factory floor as the demands of production dictate if they go home to the loving arms of their wives and unfamiliar children.
It makes you angry, and it feeds your limbs as you leap from rooftop to rooftop, bounding above it all, scanning the streets for any sign that the ever-present danger may dare to make itself manifest.
The Kell-Goons.
The Family.
They are the hammer and steel, and the city is the Flint.
With the Docker and Factory Workers Unions making little head way by collective bargaining with the bosses and the district mayors, its just a matter of time before the power keg explodes.
You've spent months trying to break into these circles in hopes of stopping the inevitable, but you have little to show for your nights breaking thugs for their petty crimes. Little, except knife scars and partially healed broken bones that still ache in the cold. But with the dawn comes Spring. Maybe now the winds of fortune will change for the better.
Or not.
You hear the sound of a window smashing as you cross the indistinct but noticeable boundary of Upper middle-class to dilapidated apartments that separate the gilded North Shore from the slums of Parity Lake. Sliding down the fire escape, you notice the shadow of a man dart around a corner.
You steel yourself for a pursuit, but suddenly you hear the piercing cry of a small child coming from the other side of the shattered pane. As you enter the fractured window, what greets your eyes turns your stomach.
<Hours Later, 3 AM, the 1st of Spring>
You eavesdrop from the roof to the police Sergeant, Officer Alfred Bellastair, reads back the details of the crime scene to the greenhorn who initially discovered the bloody mess after you provided an anonymous tip to the nearest unlucky bastard who happened to be on the beat at this hour."Victim: Woman, aged 32. Single. Mother of 3. Cause of death, stabbed through the heart. A surgical incision was then made, and she was eviscerated post mortem. Her Liver was placed in her right hand, Heart in her left. Intestines were arranged around the body in a ring. The body was then positioned..." the Sergeant paused for a moment to stifle a burp, "The Body was then positioned spread eagle where it was found by the victims oldest daughter."
Privately, you concur with the notes taken by the police officer. You'll have to reflect on them more later, but for now, your mind races with additional details left unnoticed by the police:
1. A powder residue was present in blood smears across the cold wood floor. It smelled of salt-peter.
2. On the outside of the broken window, there were black treads stuck to the glass shards. As though when the assailant stepped through the window, his coat snagged, and ripped his outer garment. You collect these carefully with your gloved hands, and place them into a bag of holding (you have this, but you only use it exclusively for collecting evidence. Add it to your inventory).
3. On the fire escape near the window, there's a ticket. It reads "Admit one Guest to RNS Coaltounge Launch Party, 3:30 PM, 1st of Spring." The ticket is signed "Chief Engineer Geoff Massarde"
As you turn you climb the wall back to the roof top, you overhear SGT Bellistair say, "MO: matches 2 other murders that have occured in the last few weeks. See Case File: 'The Ragman.'"
The next morning, you start early, and toss a few coppers to the local newsboy. You read the morning paper with renewed interest. (See 1st of Spring edition of Flint Tribune)”
Waryeye ApothecaryYou find an alchemy store in Pine Island District to seek expert advice on the forensic samples you took from the scene of the crime. The store is on the ground floor of a two-story building adjacent to a twin building, and both buildings are connected by a second story bridge. On the Right building, you see a very plain sign "Waryeye Apothecary" but on the Left Building, you see an incredibly gaudy, magical neon sign of a Magician pulling a badger out of a hat in a vibrant, but crude flashing animation. As you enter "Waryeye Apothecary" you see vibrant halfling standing behind the human-sized counter on what must be either a bench or a stool.
"What can I help you with?" She asks.
You cheerily announce "Madam! What a lovely afternoon to encounter such a lovely visage as yourself! You are truly a delight. <Name inaudible distortion> at your service."
"I was hoping you could help with a some what sensitive matter." You lean in conspiratorially. "You see, I have a friend who is inordinately successful with the ladies and I've never figured out his secret. Quite vexing I must say, as, you see, he rather looks like the south end of a north bound donkey....." You blush and glances away. "Forgive me, please. That was rather rude of me. But, you see, he's seems to have taken the eye of a young lady I fancy. But I think I may have figured out his secret and it may be quite nefarious! I lent my friend a jacket several nights ago and when he returned it, I found this substance in the pocket. I think it may be a potion of some sort. Can you tell me what it may be? If it's capable of what I think it's capable of, I shall of words with him!"
The Halfling smiles politely at you, and takes the piece of cloth, and sniffs it.
Her eyes widen for a moment, and then looks at you.
"I charge extra for these sorts of consults. 150 GP. Your friend must have a lot of money if this is what passes for love potion."
“Exactly what sort of consultation have I entered into my dear madam?” You ask.
She Replies: "Well, I didn't think anything of your request at first, losers always come in here wanting aphrodisiac, but this is something else entirely. Which makes you a liar, and that means you are involved in something you want discrete. I do discrete work, but it costs extra." She crosses her arms and leans over the counter towards you, "And I want to know who and what I'm dealing with. You convince me it's nothing dangerous, and I might come down on the price. Keep in mind, I'll test this sample. If you lie again, don't expect me to tell you what I find."
You Respond: “How close do you hold secrets madam? The secrets in that sample may save lives. If I don't get them, I can't help those that need the help of a friend of mine. So, if I tell you all I know, what issuance do I have that the secrets remain with you and these walls?”
She smiles, and says: "Here, this is why this is so pricey" she hands you a potion. "I analyze the sample you gave me, then I tell you what I find, you pay me, then I drink that."
The bottle reads "Geas of tied tongue and numb fingers."
"Its made to make me unable to communicate to anyone about anything that happened within 30 minutes prior to drinking it."
You level with her, and reply: “A woman was murdered and I'm trying to track down her killer. The authorities are either over-worked, incompetent, or crooked. There is no one to protect the down-trodden.......or avenge them. This substance, along with several other clues, was left at the scene. I'm sure the killer will strike again and I want to find him before he does.”
Satisfied, she says: "That's more like it. Let me see what we have here. It smells like gun powder..."
She cuts a piece off, and drops it in a decanter filled with blue liquid. She then heats it over a bunsun burner, and the liquid turns green. She sprinkles some gold flakes into the decanter, and the substance turns a glowing gold. She poors a sample of it into a vial, of white powder, and then it turns black.
"Well, this cloth was singed by a spark from a flintlock pistol. The pistol was magical in nature, and the magic was cursed. In what way, I can't say."
"Does that satisfy you?" She holds out her hand.
You decide to haggle, saying: “Unless there's more, that will do. Now, you mentioned a price drop for the truth........”
You give her your best smile and throw as much charm as possible into it.
She frowns at you. "How much?"
You reply: “How does 50% sound, I am after all trying to save lives madam.”
She scoffs, "The potion is worth that much. If you are going to be like cheap, how about I don't drink the potion, and you just take your chances?"
You reply: “Never let it be said that a <inaudible distortion> was cheap my dear. But please understand that I am only a third son and not even a favored one. Will you accept 100gp, my eternal gratitude, and the unsung praises of a grateful populous?”
She takes the gold, and downs the potion. "Just make sure you send folks my way and leave a good review." Have a nice day.
As you head for the exit, you proclaim with flourish, “I will tell everyone I know of the famous Waryeye Apothecary madam and you alone shall have my patronage!”
"Good then." As you leave, you notice a male Halfling come in through a back door behind the counter. He's wearing a top hat that adds an extra foot to his height. He walks over and plants a sizable kiss on the Halfling woman's mouth, sweeping her off her feet as she giggles, and swats his hand away, "Not in front of the customers, you heathen."
You look back at the male halfing one last time to size him up. He looks a little eccentric. The mat under the front door suddenly morphs it letters from "Welcome" to "Come Again!" as you exit.
Tailing the Cleric following the RNS Coaltongue Incident… (Episode 1-1)
After the events on the RNS Coaltounge, you tail the Cleric as he walks back through Central, to Bosum Strand to get a drink at the "Thinking Man's Tavern." From there, he walks to a two story slum in Parity Lake district, and goes inside. You watch from your perch through the night, and nothing interesting occurs during your stake out. It is now the morning of the 2nd of Spring. Around 0500, you see him come out the front door, and walk to a street corner and wait for a newspaper truck to drop off a bundle of news papers. You then follow him as he delivers papers to residents and newsstands until around 9 AM, at which time he walks to "The Enchanted Grounds" café on the corner of Yearling Street and Healer's Street in Stray River district. He sits, eats a hearty breakfast, then gets the check from the waiter. He doesn't pay the bill. He then leaves and goes to Pardwight University in Central district and spends the rest of the day in the Library before going back to the Apartment in Parity Lake around 10 PM.
You make note of the newspaper truck and any one he may have interacted with during the deliveries, trying to discover if the newspapers were a cover for passing notes around the area. You also make note of the server at The Enchanted Grounds, an investigation of The Enchanted Grounds may be forthcoming. At some point you get some sleep after which you shadow him for another day or two to see if this was his pattern.
You see the same pattern as the day prior, except this time, he goes to the "Enchanted Grounds" at 9 PM, halfway through his meal, a well-dressed half-Orc, 7 and a half foot tall and wearing a top hat, sits across from him. You barely see the half-orc's lips move. The conversation is amazingly concise. You see the Cleric pass the half-Orc something wrapped in a napkin across the table. The half-Orc rises, and walks away. The Cleric then finishes his meal, doesn't pay, and then goes to a local church of the Clergy.
You decide to tail the Orc, though. You throw some dirt and water in your face, and with your hood up, you look just like a beggar. As the half Orc walks by, you bump into him asking "Spare Change, sir?"
He shrugs you onto your ass without saying a word, but as he does, you manage to reach into his coat and retrieve an item...
You now have the following Item (It has an inscription in Orchish)
Pepperbox (Ultimate Combat):This pistol has six barrels instead of one.The entire barrel housing can be quickly rotated by hand
between shots (a free action requiring one free hand),
allowing all six bullets to be fired before the weapon must
be reloaded. Each barrel of a pepperbox uses a bullet
and a single dose of black powder that takes a full round action to reload.
DMG: 1d6; Crit x4
Range: 20 Feet
Misfires: On 1 or 2 attack roll. Barrel doesn't fire. Weapon is broken (For proficient Characters, all subsequent rolls misfire on 1-4). If in broken condition, on second misfire, the weapon explodes (DM randomly chooses direction) in a cone that effects the shooter's square, DC 12 reflex halves 1d6 damage at 20 feet.
Weight: 5 lbs
Type: B and P
At point blank Range (attacking adjacent square), the PC firing the weapon takes a penalty to the attack roll without the "Point Blank Shot" Feat; at point blank range, the attack roll is opposed by the defender's touch AC.
The weapon is currently fully loaded.
<Note, this pistol is the one the masked man is holding in the alleyway, outside of the vision. If you speak Orchish, you can decipher the inscription on the pistol as you experience the vision. Your character somehow remembers that the Cleric pulled this gun on the Teifling Engineer who built the RNS Coaltongue, Geoff Massade, during the incident.>
The half-Orc doesn't notice. And continues to walk through the crowd.
He doesn't notice as you bump into him a second time, from within a crowd, and return the pistol to its holster. You follow him down to the docks in Bosum Strand, where you witness him collect payments from a couple of individuals. After about three such stops, you see a docker shake his head "No." And immediately, the half-Orc left sweeps the docker off of his feet, and then draws the pistol from his jacket. He then proceeds to skull drag the docker towards the waters edge on a pier in broad daylight.
At this point, you are down at the docks. There are no crowds, just dock workers scattered here and there. When the altercation starts, they look up for a moment, startled, but then quickly move off and mind their own business, not wanting to be involved. You are in the shadows of a warehouse, overlooking the altercation, on the second floor. The two men are about 75 feet away, and the half-Orc is dragging the poor man at a speed of about 15 feet per round. He makes it look easy. It's about another 75 feet to the edge of the pier, where you can guess the half-Orc is taking the docker.
You are on a catwalk inside the warehouse watching the scene play out from behind a glass window without a latch. You got in from the other side of the building through a skylight that was left open above the catwalk for ventilation. You'd have to run into the open after getting down from the second floor (20 feet high) in order to intervene.
You crack the window, back into the shadows and fire your pistol at the half-orc. You hit him in the arm that's dragging the victim. He drops the docker, who bolts. The Half-Orc runs at a full sprint straight at you, and dives behind a crate. He has full cover from your current vantage point, and is 20 feet away. The water is North of your position. You exit the building the way you came in, heading south, and enter stealth, moving along the roof tops west to try and circle his position. You get to the west corner of the building, and he dashes inside the warehouse.
Most of the dockers took cover, or ran indoors when you fired your weapon. Some may be cowering in the warehouse you are sitting on. You wait for about 30 seconds, nothing happens.
Just as you start to make your way back down, you hear the tromping sound of someone on the catwalk beneath you. On the third round, the half-Orc's torso hangs out of the window you've been coming in and out of. His pistol is drawn, as he sweeps back and forth like a turret scanning the roof. You are on the opposite slope of the slanted roof, and he doesn't appear to see you. He looks disappointed.
You shoot him and exclaim, "My good man. Drop your pistol and preserve your life! I've already successfully engaged you from 30 paces, an incredible feat if I may say so myself. You're clearly outmatched and I have some questions for you." You critically hit him, and he shoots back at you, misses, and retreats back into the warehouse, leaving a blood trail as he runs. You give chance, and as you reenter the warehouse, the lights have go out.
Even with the light coming through the two roof windows, its surprising dark beneath the catwalk. You hear the thug stumbling in the dark, running in fear from you as you pursue. Your visability is about 5 feet, just enough to make out the dusty crates stacked 20 feet high in a series of collumns. That, and the bright handprints and the puddles of blood leading the way. You hardly even need those to find this thug; between his loud, rapid, panicked mouth breathing, he shouts, "do you think I'm gonna go down by a freakshow in a mask an' undergarments? You have another thang comm'n!"
You shout back to him, “How does it feel to taste the Fear for yourself? You hand it out like it's candy to others readily enough. You are a pestilence on my city and you can neither run or hide from the just retribution I represent. But you're just a lackey, I don't really care about you. I want to know who you work for and who the man you met at the Hallowed Grounds café is. What business do you have with him. I've been following you for some time you see. If you work with me , you may yet live. If you choose not to.....well......that's another matter.”
As you cautiously approach between the rows of crates stacked 5 feet apart, things start to open up to an area you can only guess is 10-20 cubic feet. You estimate there's probably about 5 or six such rows of crates, each parallel to the other, filling most of the warehouse, save for this tiny corner which must be near the loading garage door.
You hear metalic "bang, click, whirrrrrrr!" sound. Followed by the release of steam pressure. Then a bright light that nearly blinds you as it switches on...
Shielding your eyes, you see looming over you as it rises a 10 Foot tall steamsuit, with forklifts for hands, rise from a kneeling position and reach its full height.
<img src="http://i.imgur.com/XIGlMfn.jpg>
The only response you hear from the brute is the rising, sputtering cackle...
"Have it your way!” You shout as you dive backwards back in between the two rows of crates you had just come out of, as a clawed arm smashes across the first two stacks of crates forming the entrance to the walkway. You can tell that suit is too big to fit in the 5 foot path.
You hand is steady, and you fire your gun, hitting him in the chest. He slumps in the stirrups of the cumbersome steamsuit, and collapses in a heap with the large machine on top of him. Blood pools at your feet as it drains from his body, crushed beneath the weight of the pseudo-armor.
He is dead.
Quickly searching him before police arrive, you retrieve the pistol from before, and you also find 300 GP in a sack. Likely protection money he collected this morning.
You disappear into the shadow's making sure you can observe the comings and goings at the primary entrance of the warehouse to see who comes to investigate. You watch for anyone who is probably not an officer of the law and is showing special interest in the scene.
After about 20 minutes of waiting, a carriage pulls up, and about 7 men wearing suits get out, weapons drawn, move any workers out of the building, and cordon off the warehouse with a security perimeter. About 5 minutes later, another carriage pulls up, and you see money getting paid to dockers who work in the warehouse and the surrounding dock. Then, a few go into the warehouse. For a couple of hours while the men on the outside continue to pull guard.
The men pulling security look like pros. They scan in all directions, and are currently pulling security from static positions behind crates, carriages, and dock equipment. You notice that after the carriages leave, by your count, three people didn't get back on the carriages. You decide to chase after the carriage, which at this point is moving 20 mph, but you use the rooftops to attempt a short cut.
But the speed is too great for you to keep up, and as the exhaustion overwhelms you, you are out of breath, stopping at the bottom of fire escape, leaning against the railing. Its been a long night, and now the day's heat has picked up, and your mask is stifling. By the time you get to the street, the carriage is no where in sight. You are so delerious, you don't even notice you had your hand up until you are broken from your stupor by the voice of the cabbie who had pulled along side you gazing down the busy street. "Where to... Uh...." you realize you are still in your vigilante persona, and the taxi driver is confused and shocked.
Attempting to play off your appearance, you mumble drunkenly "The counts masquerade was a real doozy last night........" you peer around "I left a real looker of a doxy.....not sure how I got way out here......" pat yourself looking for your coin purse, "Damn......seems that hussy took me for everything.........guess I'm walking......sure hope she was worth it........sure wish I could remember it......" you stumble drunkenly back into an alley and find somewhere to go back into your social persona. Then you return home and get some rest before returning to the docks in the evening to ask questions disguised as a Docker.
Investigation of the Docks the next day
Disguised as a docker the next day you return to the docks, you quickly realize mingling on the job will be a little more complicated than you realized. A grizzled man, who looks somewhat familiar, comes out of an office and addresses a gathering crowd of docker..."Good news, bad news. The good news is that there are plenty of hours again. The bad news is the job will take 18 hours and there's no overtime."
The men start to murmur amongst themselves, then one man spoke out, " So what are we supposed to do, Thames?"
"For now, work. You let me worry about Union matters."
The men scoff. "So how was yer meet 'n with Gov'ner Standfield? I bet he jumped right on the Boss-mans pogo stick when you told him how bads we all gots it." The sarcasm is thick on the voice, and the disrespect seems only slightly in jest.
"I didn't get an audience with him at the Coaltongue ceremony. The Feds were too busy sniffing their own thrones to pay any heed to a unionist. I promise you, though, I'll make sure we get heard."
The men shrug, perhaps only convinced because they have no other choice. The dockers line up to get their assignments of the day. You stand at the tail of the line.
You hang back at the back of the line giving everyone a few seconds to disperse before you approach Thames. Once you do, you say "Just pr'tnd Oi'm any udda Docka gettin is mahching orders. Savvy? I saw you at da Coaltongue and I saw how you's was ignored by da RHC when you was tryin ta git there attention. Listen, I can get you's a audience with the RHC uppers and make some headway to gettin you heawd by Gov'nr Stanfield. I'm a Union man tru-n-tru. Wid out da Union Industry goes an buggers da little guy. Savvy? But fa dis help, I got some questions I need answers to. Wha'dya say?"
He gives you a sideways look, and sneers incredulously, "really? I manage these docks, and this is the first time I've ever seen you. I know everyone's kids middle names for gods sakes. Who are you?"
You Reply: “Lets just say I'm a party interested in whats best for those that get trodden on and I think a stable corruption free union is da way ta git there. But it sounds like your havin issues with outside actors. I might be able ta help, but I can na do that without information.”
He raises an eye brow, "You RHC?"
You respond: “No and nothing you say has to get to them unless you want it to. You could say I'm an independent philanthropist.”
"Well, in that case, Maybe if you sent a message to Govn'r Standfield about the conditions down here at the docks. My men are tired of the local police harassing them just because a few of the city’s nobles don’t like being made fun of in tavern songs. Worse, some dockers have been arrested in the past few weeks because they refused to work six-teen hour shifts loading and unloading industrial cargo. The people are restless, and the union's promises that non-violence can fix some of this is only going to go so far. I need the owners of the shipyards, factories, and docks to meet me on some of the demands. Negotiations have been going nowhere for weeks. I've spent just about all the credibility I have trying to prevent a riot, and I'm trying to keep them calm. If Stanfield can’t take some of the pressure off them, there’ll be blood in the streets.
Also, if you can do something about Dafton, the poor fool has a wife and kids scared half to death without any word of what has come of him. Ever since he went and got waylaid by the imperial guard, no one's heard from him. I suspect he's in a dank cell some wheres."
Additionally, just as Thames finishes talking, you are distracted by some heavy mouth breathing, and turn to Constable Granon, the rouge you met briefly during the Coaltounge incident. He doesn't appear to notice you at the moment, but you notice him. He looks like he tried, and failed epically to don a disguise much like you did this morning. But in his case, you can see he forgot to take his RHC badge off, and his burlap getup has a large tear in it exposing his pristine uniform underneath. He looks like he's about to say something to Grimsley.
To Grimsley, you say "Pardon me for a moment."
You approach the RHC officer before he's within earshot of Grimsely; "Yer attempt at a' disguise is appalling mate. I c'n see yer badge plain as da wort on me muddas nose. If'n ya want ta git outta hear alive turn round righ' now 'n meet me at the Enchanted Grounds in tree ‘ays time, same time as now, ay?"
<This is the same conversation you had that lead you to this meeting…>
Further Investigation in Parity Lake
During your investigation into the Kell Guild, you found the bodies of two Kell-Guild thugs, their throats slit, and the bodies arranged in an unsettlingly peaceful funeral display, each with a single rose on the chest of the bodies, and small canvas bag of Berian imported coffee left as a gift (As explained in a beautiful stationary note, with elegant calligraphy), perhaps to send a message. You traced the bag of coffee back to a distributor, "Acquisitions LLC" in the Bosum Strand district. You suspect there is some sort of gang related turf war going on, but the best you could come up with from scuttlbutt is that in Crisillyirian immigrant communities around Flint, people obscurely mention, "The Family" with deep respect, in contrast to the constant fear locals of Parity Lake have of the Kell Guild.
Reference the Player's Guide page 49 for general knowledge about Lorcan Kell.
Lorcan Kell is street rumored to be the head of an organized crime ring based out of Parity Lake district. Through violence and intimidation, the local thieves guild has managed to organize the district's thugs into a single syndicate, and has completely monopolized all "rights" to illicit activity within the Parity Lake district.
After doing some leg works, you discover that Lorcan Kell the owner of a stage theater, The Kell Opera House, in Eastern Parity Lake district. The Opera house is perhaps the biggest competitor to the Navaras Opera house in Central District. Each of these performance venues cater to a different artistic niche, Navaras being classical and clutured, Kell being popular and crude. However illegitimate Lorcan Kell's other business ventures may or may not be, the Kell Opera house at least serves as a legitimate front. Dockers from Bosum Strand district flock to auditions whenever new stage productions put out casting calls. Most of these dockers would prefer to land a gig at the Navaras Opera house, but they are desperate for any artistic venture that will get them out of the factories and docks.
Currently, there is an open casting call for a variety show at the Kell Opera house.
The Kell-Opera House
Disguised, you manage to find out from the local papers when the next audition is. You easily discover that Kell has an audition that he is personally overseeing for a production called "The Spider." Several locals warn you against auditioning, as Kell has been known to be unpredictably cruel when get gets bored with sub-par performances. But actors audition anyway because he pays well.
As you stand at the back of the line, in the service dock behind of the theater in Parity Lake, you see a rather large and intimidating thug standing in the entrance way letting in actors 3 at a time to gain access to the stage."Yoos weight rite hur."
He stares at you like a stone for about ten minutes, until you hear a shout from inside he theater, "Rufus? Are we about done? Any more of those fuckers left?"
"Ya boss. Tree lef."
"Then tell them to get their asses in here pronto."
"Yoos guys can go in now."
As you and two other acrobats enter the theater, you are on the stage of a grand opera house. The acoustics are quite powerful, especially empty. There appears to be a bloody smear on the planks of the stage. You can easily hear a man shout from the balcony,
"Ok, I don't have a lot of time before my lunch date. Which one of you wants an ass beating?"
"Well? Don't all answer at once," the voice chuckles.
You hear yourself stutter: “"Pa.pa.pa.pardon? I.I.I.I..I thought we we we we were h h h here to audition?"
The voice hems and haws, "You are. But I'm short on time. So, I'm going to beat all of your asses within an inch of your lives unless one of you volunteers. Pretty simple, eh? The trick is, I'm not telling you how you win."
Continuing your meek façade, you respond: "Well....uh....I really need this job.....so.....I uh.....guess I'll fight you......"
He starts laughing.... Hysterically. After about 20 seconds of this, he's gasping for breath, possibly wiping tears from his eyes,
"heh, heh, No. That's not going to happen. You can thank me later." He snaps his fingers.
5 or 6 thugs come in and start waylaying the other two men onto the ground. Stomping, and kicking them.
"You've got the part. I don't really care if you can do acrobatics or not. If you fall and kill yourself on stage, that'll just bring more customers to the next one."
You see the man stand, and turn to walk out of the balcony exit.
"Don't be a hero, or else they get beaten past an inch of their lives."
You stand-by passively until the beating is done, thinking you might try to get their names and where they live so as to can them some money out of remorse later. As the thugs finish, they circle past you, sneering and smirking. They walk off the stage, and stroll to the exits. The two men lay there, in a heap, unconscious.
You quickly stabilize the two men, then rush behind stage to look for help. The backstage is empty, save a large cage with manacles, and blood on the floor. It looks like some sort of beasts mauled something inside. You run out the front of the theater, desperate to find help, but street is fairly quiet. Typical foot traffic for Parity lake is minimal, since there isn't much as far as commerce. Mostly just delinquents playing futbol in the street, or smoking cigarettes. You see a group of thugs bullshitting by a carriage. Likely the ones that made the mess inside. Your eyes see nothing but red as you approach the thugs, your fingernails drawing blood from your fists as you clench them in rage… The men look up at you laughing, then their eyes bulge in fear…
You remember nothing that happens next… then another scene comes into focus:
The Local Augur
You find yourself searching for an augur to cast scrying magic on the threads you collected from the scene of the serial killer crime. All of the local Augur's are open from 9AM - 10PM. A few hours of searching for a reputable one, and 10 GP later, you get the following information:
Any scrying magic performed on the threads returns void, and the Augur gives you a sideways look, "Is this some sort of test? The person you are looking for is fictitious."
“What do you mean, ‘Ficticious?’” You ask confused.
The Augur replies: "By fictitious, I mean either you are imagining an alias for someone, or you are imagining a character from a book. Or, if someone is crazy, maybe only an aspect of their personality... in which case, I'd only find them with scrying magic when they are in that persona.”
You respond: “Very well, sir. I'd like to retain your services for the near future as I venture down this madman's path. I'd like you to scry this clothe each night for the next several nights. I shall return each night to see if anything has changed. What say you my good man?”
"What time?” he asks, “That's late hours..."
You respond: “Lets go with witching hours. The hours between 12am and 3am but not at the same time each night. You may be helping to save someone life but your secrecy, in this matter, is paramount.”
He snorts, "You can rent me for a week for 10 GP. Deal?"
“Deal.” You agree as you pass him 10GP, “I'll see you tomorrow before any sane person would be awake, eh?”
<A couple of days pass, you visit him, but he has nothing, then, on the fourth day, the business is closed.>
"I've a bad feeling about this." You say aloud. <You change clothes from noble garb to a vigilante garb that exactly matches the costume of the masked from the alley>. While you are changing clothes, you hear a shriek come from inside the shop. You rush to the door, but find that the doors are all locked. So are the glass windows. You draw a pistol and smash the windows, to which a dog begins barking…
After a few seconds of pausing in a crouch beneath the window, you vault through the opening, into a moon-lit room. In the corner, you see the Augur weeping in a ball, rocking back and forth.
On the table, you see a futbol sized glowing orb resting on a pedestal <this is the orb the Vigilante handed you, causing the current vision you are having>.
You quickly explore the rest of the house to see if anyone is hiding. Then return to the Augur and assess his status.
"What happened here? What did you find?"
He's shaken, and murmering "Mmmonster! He's a monster!"
"Who is a monster?" What did you find?!"
The Augur points to the glowing ball with a trembling finger. You approach the orb cautiously…
Vision Ends, back in the alley
The Masked mask stares you in the face… “That is all I know. This orb contains a vision of the murder, but I lack the skill to access what the Augur saw. Can the RHC Manage? I’m needed elsewhere… the conspiracy runs far deeper than any of you know… I saw you and the team that saved the RNS Coaltongue, so I know you are not part of the corruption. But trust no one else in the RHC. The Conspiracy has spies everywhere.”
And as you look down at the orb in your hands, you ponder what the masked man tells you, but as you glance back up, you are startled again to see the alley vacant.
He’s gone.