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[Doom]

Everybody gets an extra 2,500 gold because fuck Math. Cheers to Latir!

Excitement! Excitement and adventure! And curiosity too! All these things and more revolved through the dependable Delivery Dog's mind as his head poked out of a window along a great Wind-Tram that had departed from the Aerie Way Station last week. He had made a great many deliveries and carried many messages to the elusive Bladefang Orc tribes in the Northern Reaches, and now he returned with many more orders from them! Trade orders and letters to family and friends... and a very important reply! As the Wind-Tram billowed out fresh air to bind elemental energy to and accelerate across in the vacuum of space, the air dissipating about as fast as the tram can move across it, it begins to slow and gust out twice as much air as before, eventually forming a self-sufficient pocket as it docks near the terraformed Gateway land and lets guests off. This is merely a matter of convenience, as once all are off-board, it 180s and returns to the Aerie Way Station, where it will accept those boarding.



Hopping aboard his trusty scooter, the other passengers cannot mask their clear envy of such a marvelous little transport with such a classy little dog. They are immediately afflicted by Hatin', but he begins Rollin' back to town.

Back at the Holsten Holdings Headquarters, things have been Busy! The latest weekly herald has released and... Oh My Pelor. It seems the chaps you let escape the encounter with Ottimus had enough loose lips to sink a dozen ships. The front story hits with a thrilling illustration of what appears to be a... Dwarf, wielding a shotgun in one hand and a chainsaw in his other hand confronting a colossal Skeletal Demon Carp(Skull has Horns) embedded in a mass of sinister ooze with eyes on it. TROUBLEMAKERS IN A HEAP OF TROUBLE! Holsten Holdings Dissolves Dastardly Dynamo Dissidents! Outcast Ottimus Cast Into Shallow Grave! EVERYONE is aware of the ace you've just pulled upon your competition and the word around town is that you're far more capable than you look, and by Pelor, you might even return to the Council at the end of the month!

Ilex is illustrated in the editorial section with the give-away big forehead, but she's portrayed triumphantly as the iconic (and more pleasantly presented) figures of the other factions in the Big Three look on cautiously at Ilex's IMPOSSIBLE SMUGNESS, the cocky half-elf drawn with her eyes closed because she's just so pleased with herself. There's also room for tentative figures of a spider-like Neogi and a very dapper Gentleman Skeleton to regard Ilex's rise with bewilderment. Caption: "Queen of the Mountain!?" At the base of the metaphorical moutain of triumph Ilex stands upon, a very funny Firebrand is hopping up and down as steam flies out of his ears. See it's a joke because Dwarf and a mountain and... PEE PEE, DOO DOO, SHE IS A BAD LEADER?

Considering that Karvan himself said that he couldn't starve anyone, I assume that Clarice, Gran and Kiplyn are being fed. Beatrice seems to try her hand at interrogation very frequently, but always seems to go down when everybody else is busy so that she can speak to them alone. Kiplyn seems to open up readily, though most of what he tells you paints a story of a lot of Ottimus' recruits: down on their luck, no way out of debt, Ottimus conveniently appears and speaks with great conviction of a better future. Despite all evidence to the contrary, it seems Ottimus really believed in completely overthrowing the current Council and making Gateway less rigid, so that the lower class would have a chance to rise, lest the Big Three maintain that monopoly forever.

Beatrice seems to have asked, but Kiplyn confirms that they had nothing to do with the ambush on the Long Holiday, citing that Hjard and his type are completely untrustworthy even for the Iythian.

It is Week 3, and you are free to begin acting, but I will be posting with new events coming up every so often, so no need to rush out and look for stuff to do. I recommend just entering the thread for now!

Ilex: You can stabilize your disease to the One Surge Lost state, but never get it below. You become used to uh, weeding your arms each day. Your ailment seems to be entirely unknown by any sort of healer, holy person, nature person or other. Since a few of your boys can read Elven, it seems that this is related to the mad science of Doctor Quint, but he escaped in the chaos of the Ottimus fight and has been smart enough to hide in a very deep hole since then. You're also told about the offer of 200,000 gold from the Academy for the Hand of Entrophy and can act on that immediately. Phous' warning to not interfere with the investigation has also thankfully expired by now.

Meran: Your friends tell you of the... Church of the Raven? Perhaps a visit is in order, though I'll prompt you to form a group for it a bit later.

Morgiana: Your friends warn you that the Tome is available for study, but Millicent 7th herself stated that reading the tome in full was a terrible idea. Your call.

Ragjen: You've received a neat and trim letter from somebody at the Church of Pelor! It's unmarked, was passed to Morgiana to be passed to you, and smells vaguely of scented candles.

Latir: You had an idea to interrogate the prisoners, right? Fire away!

[Doom]

Bertam: WHAT A DAY! In the aftermath of a week of freak storms and unusual extended rain in the city, the sunlight period has begun and your fellows have given a rousing call... for Sportsballs on the city limits! Playing in the fields between the city and the cultivated forest lands, you're sure to be the Runman they need to score the most Pointgoals! All you need to do is retire to the building's copious bathing facilities, generously divided between male and female and with room for a public bath and stalls to douse oneself with buckets of water in privacy, and you can clean up and get out there to play! There's also some private room for a bit of quality reading time on the can, and you've got a copy of the Weekly Herald underarm as you merrily head down the hall.

Bump.

Bump.

Oof.

W... what's this? There appears to be a 5'2" immovable object in your way! Standing at the entrance to the split between M/F sides of the facilities, Wanda has draped a towel around her torso and hurried out of the bath to catch you at your most vulnerable! Hands on her hips, she glares up at you and the occasional bit of steam from her neck joint intermingles with the hot, heavy mist coming from the baths.

"For shame, Bertram Roderick Sidney."

[Malikial]

Karvan goes down in the cells with food and drink, after feeding Clarice and Kiplyn, if they want to eat, he speaks to Gran again, asking, "When we fought in the arena you made it sound like you wanted revenge on me for something. I do not know what I did, it's been... causing me a bit of internal conflict. Care to enlighten me?" He leans against the wall, arms crossed and waits for an answer.

[sentrygun]

Ilex takes a glance a the paper, and after a few moments to piece together the artifact as anything that Millicent might want the Hand and The Academy as Millicent, she tears the paper in half and lets out a shrill growl.

"I am NOT just handing over something that that pompous bitch would want. She's not paying that kind of money just because she has a passing interest in it, it's important if she cares that much. She either thinks I don't deserve it or wants to abuse it for whatever it can do. I need to find someone who can actually use it!

...Someone besides me!"

[Doom]

Gran seems to spend his days standing almost perfectly inert, and doesn't need to eat, so aside from attempts to talk to him, he might as well be a piece of furniture. His eyes acknowledge Karvan and he speaks simply. "When it mattered, you achieved the title of Champion and then fled the arenas before I could rise to challenge you. Your cowardice has led you to side with... Holsten, making you a coward following a much more remarkable coward."

"But I hardly care anymore."

[R^2]

Latir will head down to the basement where the prisoners are, waiting for Karvan to finish his line of interrogation before he begins his own.

"I imagine nearly every employee of Holsten Holdings has been down here to talk to you three. It is our job, of course. Capture prisoners, interrogate prisoners."

"For what it is worth, I am not here as a representative of Holsten Holdings. I am here," and here he pulls his holy symbol out from under his tunic, "as a representative of the church of Erathis."

"It may interest you to know that I have no particular love for Holsten Holdings as an employer. Of course, I do the best job I can, for is that not what all our jobs are no matter where we work? But to be honest, if Holsten Holdings stands for anything, I do not even know what it is."

"Now. Gateway is as bafflingly corrupt a dwelling-place as I can possibly imagine. I long to return home to the dwarf-hall of my ancestors and leave this rotting husk of a city behind. But I cannot; improving this city in any small or great way I can is my Duty to Erathis."

"Ottimus spoke at length of how he would improve Gateway. Please tell me about it."

Latir interrogates
1d20 +18
14 + 18 = 32
I blew my Astral Speech daily earlier :/

[Malikial]

"I did not flee, I retired. If you wish to call me a coward I don't mind but I have never fled from a challenge, still that hardly matters... I'm thinking, been thinking hard about my station in life, what I have achieved, what I wish to achieve. I work in a position where I can die at a moments notice and I would be remembered for nothing but once being the arena champion in a corrupt pit fighting organization." He sighs and looks down, then growls out, "I had forgotten... I was living here with my friends, being a normal person or as normal as I can be... then I went back to make some money and that damn Neogi was still there. I didn't leave because I was afraid or because I was a coward, I left because I stopped owing him money and didn't want to be in a situation where I would owe him more. It was a vicious years long cycle, I'd fight my way back to even, get out of the hole and then spend a few debauched days and owe him tens of thousands of gold again. I was nothing, a drinking, drugging lizard who fought and even killed when commanded by a slave driving bug. I needed to be sober to fight so after I'd spend a few weeks fucking up they'd whip me back into shape and I'd fight to pay it off. I stayed sober the last time, I got hurt in the arena in my last fight and I couldn't immediately go boozing, woke up sober, with a bit of coin and instead of wasting it I left. I left because I didn't want to do that bullshit again... it was killing me as surely as a blade to the neck and I never was one to commit suicide..." he growls and slams his fist into he cell wall, "Maybe I was a fucking coward, but now I realize nothing in that place has changed, the Neogi is still riding his Umber Hulk slaves around, still fighting other warriors until there is an accident and someone dies. I want to do something about it, when we get done with whatever we're doing now... maybe before I don't even know.... I don't think the pits can ever really be a legitimate business... but I don't think the fighters need to be subjected to the things I was. What I'm saying is, I want to free the pits from the clutches of their leader. I want you to help, and when we're done you can have your fight with me, if you still want it. If you don't want to help me, I understand, but I'm going to do it anyways."

[Doom]

Gran stands solemnly throughout your speech, then replies simply. "I've reached a similar conclusion. But I think that's enough noise for today."

Knock Knock Knock! There's somebody at the front door! Oh my goodness! It is... Delivery Dog!

A very boring, form letter states that once again, Sir Devlin Ward is out. Then it asks for donations to the Church of Pelor in a dull, routine manner.

A battered, coffee-stained letter from the... Bladefang Orcs, to Ilex!

And... Oh Gods. A wicked, kind of cool black flier for another performance at the end of the week by La Da Ja Choy. It also includes promotional material... for the Church of the Raven! They seem to be a church dedicated to the Raven Queen after all, but their rites for membership and pleas for donation are even more vague and obscure than Pelor's.

[Doom]

Latir: Clarice looks at you as if a squirrel had suddenly grown a bit of sentience and civility and come up to her to preach about the nobility of living in a tree. She manipulates her spoon through what is left of her morning oats and rolls her eyes. "If Pelor is bleeding itself thin to help the endless poor and the Druids are content to grow fat off their monopoly on the right to live, then the Three Towers are just waiting for a chance to conquer us all. Ottimus would upend all of that and provide real benefit." She smirks. "Listen to you, you don't even know what you stand for? That's the problem with Fools-Errant. Ze ze ze... another band of dull-witted mercenaries."

She holds the empty bowl out between the bars. "If it's all about the gold, why don't you start licking the boots of the Druids or the Academy? They pay out the best."

Kiplyn is wagging his tail as he tears through his breakfast ah, like a hound. "Uhm... he really knew a lot, you know? I could tell he was a vet at the Academy, and he seemed really mad about what went on there. I think he knew something they were up to? I dunno. Ohh! That's good!" He licks the bowl clean. "Uhm, but aren't all the big-shots always scheming?"

[R^2]

Latir chides, "Do not be foolish. Of course I know what I stand for. But if Ilex Holsten stands for more than getting very angry and shouting and making a mess, I cannot tell what her motivations are. Nonetheless, work is work, and over the course of my employment with Fools-Errant I have done no small amount of good for Gateway. And learned much about how it can be improved further."

He takes Clarice's empty bowl.

"I have no interest in work for the Academy and Those Chosen had little interest in me when my career began. Now they complain to me about being shorthanded, so who can tell what they are doing either?"

"What benefit did Ottimus see as his duty to fulfill?"

Turning to Kiplyn, "Big-shots, as you say, are always scheming. Ottimus as an up-and-coming big-shot-to-be did his share as well, I believe. I believe Meran is currently going through the various notes we found in your sewer-base."

[Doom]

Clarice sits on her cot and begins her daily ritual of keeping to herself. "Ohhh yes, you're not a mercenary, you're learning a lot and you're "doing good." I'm very sure things will work out for you at the utmost convenience, Ser Dwarf."

Kiplyn returns his empty bowl. "Oh, the Doc's stuff? That was mostly to uh, make something. I'm not really sure what. But I figure it was part of his big change. His duty..." Kiplyn pawses and thinks for a moment, paw to chin. "I guess disrupting the Council's make-up would do. We were gonna bump you off for your spot, but then you started winning!" Kiplyn laughs, tail wagging. Then he chases it. He's been going a bit stir-crazy in lock-up. Like a bored dog.

[R^2]

Oh, right. On the way back to HQ from Reinbach's, Latir stops by a couple of shops and restocks his supplies of all the stuff he fed to the Jellywall. Who knows when another pair of rubber gloves will be useful?

"And assassinating the heads of the four factions? What good would that do, in the long run? It is not chopping the head off a serpent and waiting for the body to die, it would be pruning a branch from a tree. The tree would suffer but live on, eventually replacing the branch with fresh growth."

[Doom]

Kiplyn: "... Huh? I dunno. If Holsten folds, Otto takes their place, that's pretty easy." His ears droop as he thinks about the other outcomes.

"... I guess if somebody else dies and one of the Big Three fold, uhm... the city will turn into a war-zone?"

[R^2]

"Would any of the Big Three fold, though? The church would live on without Devlin, the Academy appoints the next in line whenever the Seventh dies, and the geomancers continue their work without their leader. Gateway would continue to stagnate, after the initial turmoil."

[Doom]

Kiplyn shrugs, all of this being beyond him. Clarice snickers.

[R^2]

"...I see. It is a shame we find ourselves at odds; there is much to respect about each of you. Clarice is a staggering inventor, well beyond my humble ability. Kiplyn is as loyal as they come. And Gran is as stoic as the stone he is mostly made of."

"Hate me if you must, but I feel we have much to learn from one another. I bear you no ill will."

And with that, Latir excuses himself.

[Maxmaps]

The dragonborn smiled to himself as he took a deep sniff at the letter. He laid back on his bed and prepared to open it above himself... suddenly realizing the possibility of a torrent of acid falling on his face, he placed it on his desk and opened it with great care.

[Doom]

To Father Ragjen,

It has been nearly a year since we enjoyed your company at the First Church, and I'd be thrilled if you would visit us again!

Please bring some of your little helpers for enlightenment.

~Second Zealot Zita

Ahh, life at the Church. Up at the crack of dawn, clean every square inch of the damn place, say your prayers to Pelor for an hour, and then helping the needy and the poor. It's a wonder that you could ever find any time in the day to really relax and have some fun, Ragjen.

But... Zita? Little Zita, the scrawny acolyte? Maybe the title is a joke. Second Zealot would be on almost on par with Devlin's capability as leader and fighter.

[Bongo Bill]

"Why, Wanda!" said a startled Bertram. "You're certainly - look, if this is about the goldfish, I had nothing to do with it."

[Doom]

Wanda raises one hand to waggle a finger at Bertram, as though scolding a child, but immediately brings the other hand up to steady the towel, holding it at the top.

"I can't believe that you're really going to stand by and wait for your Aunt to die! Every letter she sends is sadder than the last, and all she wants before she goes is to see her nephew one last time!"

Her eyebrows 180 and align into straightened, deadly lines. You've never really seen Wanda quite this mad. Her panels are flipping over to the incensed red coloring, but it's clearly anger rather than demure embarrassment at play. "We are going to Labyrinth right away, and I will not accept No for an answer."