Well, that took a bit . . . much like Bjork's purported goldfish turned MTV star, said campaign fizzled spectacularly outside its native marine environment (more on that to come). That said, in light of future posts regarding the trans-dimensionally regenerative qualities of yellow bile, the context contained herein may prove elucidatory. And so . . .
Where were we? Stanton, Blumbert, and Bamford the Crabman depart the Temple of Nysses, but are unable to resist the compulsion to hotwire a tank, which they then drive end over end into the river Effulent, in process freeing a malnourished prisoner barbarian, Bat Nilsonson. The quartet are promptly helped escape, and then held at knifepoint by, a team of super-predators led by one Lord Mush. They resist, Stanton sets fire to the surrounding bustee, Mush makes a run for it, but not before surreptitiously handing Blumbert a packet of seeds for "special delivery".
Session 2 - BIG BRASS BAND
And away to the shadowy underground (colloquially “Down-athix”) that lies beneath the central city we go. Lord Mush, in retreat upsets statuette and apple-cart alike in the time-honored manner of all the best poursuite effrénée dans les rues. Stanton in pursuit. Theo Adorno sportscasting: "the throwing of all meaning overboard like ballast in the snapshot of the situation, in the unresisting subjugation to the empty hegemony of things."
Stanton is dodging a lot of hedges, lots of monies (the casting of pennies over the shoulder, useful both against demons and unctuous scavengers), and needless to say (being a higher-order category encompassing the above and more), lots and lots of things.
[cue an over-under gambling mechanic with playing cards loosely adapted from here - They flip, you choose, you flip. On the over, you catch up. On the under, you keep pace. Choose wrong, you've lost them. Aces low. Face cards are obstacles or intercessors - J-Person, Q-Environment, K-Event].
And lo - it's market day in the Down Below [K of Hearts, dig?], supplying extra props for Mush to mow over and toss behind as barriers. Down go several cages housing exotic animals from the Eastern frontier. Down goes a stand of pots and pans of varying quality (is one of those tarnished mithril?) Down goes the oversized ophicleide and it's wiry player from a five-piece band playing for gruel lucre.
Enter one Dr. Emil Teroq, a graverobber, err, archeologist, idly watching the band's performance until the Mush interrupts his reverie.
The balance of the party, meanwhile, remain above-ground, circling the remaining cutthroats. The pretty flames and the fwip fwip fwip of revealed playing cards (and the whisper of the Bernard Hermann score) are hypnotic. The thugs, however, grasp the situation more succinctly. They disengage to fetch water, blankets and the odd bag of gravel to douse the fire lest the authorities are attracted by the smoke and fall upon them all. In Mush’s absence, his lieutenant Vorveist negotiates a truce. He is very persuasive, and soon everyone is playing whack a mole against many smaller fires.
[Effectively 1hd, 1 hp monsters, but gains 1 hd each turn and 1d6 "children", so don't dilly dally ye dandies or you'll burn down the entire sector]
Ruffians and rowdies have no choice against a monster such as this but to work as a team and are soon fast friends, never mind poor Brosta and Zlosek, face down in pools of blood.
It's hard labor, but they win out, ultimately. The détente extended. B+B grab one of the thugs and give him a ritual shaving, causing an abrupt conversion to Nyssesian cosmic worldview, creepy crawlies everywhere. Bat Nilsonson has been badly burned and is now unconscious, losing a point of constitution permenantly. Not for the last time.
The former antagonists descend together arm in arm, leaving only the bartender, Karloff, to continue his vigil, polishing such glassware as has survived the conflagration. Surely the Fuzz will be on-site shortly, pinching everyone - except there isn’t anyone. Karloff, mute as mittens, can only gesture downward they-went-thataway.
Down below, Dr. Emil Teroq has become quite agitated and mercilessly needles the band, "That guy doesn't respect music at all!" "Not to go on all fours, that is the law! Are we not men?" "Is this the kind of treatment you will stand for?" No, they won't, and the chase is back on. After that pushy crimelord! Onward Mush, trailed by Stanton, followed by the five-piece, and last of all Dr. Emil Teroq, noting in his blotter the intricate zigzag through conduit, cave, and sewerage cyclopean.
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Theodor Geisel |
Mush nearly makes it up one of the many ladders lying around the underground to a catwalk but is yanked off mid-ascent by Stanton and immobilized by the quintet irate musicians for a good kicking.
Friends,” says Mush, arms over covering his face against reciprocating muso-boots, “Surely you are not so unsettled as you wouldn’t consider swapping resources? You, being numerous and entirely without direction . . . " Stomp stomp stomp.
“The gangs of the Underdim aren’t too bright,” opines Mush, winking if his black eye would allow at his former colleagues Vorveist and Brother 'Verne. “Behold an info dump! The grand camp of the Salties is an eyesore, to be sure, and that just rubs those Whoresons, cleancut little fascists that they are, the wrong way. On my information and belief, they are about to attack and scrub it immaculate. Problem being, the inventor Blue Bear live there in a hut with alligator legs, and he's working on a project for me. I'll make it worth your while if you rescue him before the egg cracking begins . . ."
The party, suitably convinced, leave Mush to his machinations, braving the Bald Bridge (in plenty poor condition, its name suggests) and brain bats who live underneath it as a shortcut against time to find this "Blue Bear" individual and warn him.
They are too late, though, and arrive to the cacophonous sound of cannon-fire and fitful screaming as the Whoresons are mid-assault, and in the process mid-unleash of eldritch entities soon gawping for breath in the semi-oxygenated air of the subsurface (no, not the titular one either).
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John Hendrix |
Never fear, per Bill Gould, FNM "wound up letting that fish go into the river when we were finished". Far from being inhumanely tormented for no purpose, the fish (plural - it's film-making innit) went through its/their reverse dip into Urðarbrunnr before learning the runes and living out its/their invasive species dreams to the fullest.
*No malevolent entities were harmed in the making of this episode - no promises going forward*
Bibliography: ASE 1 - Anomalous Subsurface Environment (Patrick Wetmore), Augmented Reality (Paul D. Gallagher), Burndhachaigh (Ian Butterfly), Howling Tower: Chase Scenes (Steve Winter), Infinigrad: The Weird City Toolkit (Michael Ralston), Shadelport & Exile Island (Christopher Tamm), Operation Unfathomable (Jason Sholtis), there was a dog at work today, he was a special mister guy (Scrap Princess), Yoon-Suin (noisms).