Sir Horatio's Habitation for Wayward Planars & Primes

Shameless Self-Promotion

While I’m in-between games, I’ve been finding myself painting. If, for some reason, you enjoy my work, please, take a moment to check out my Etsy shop. If nothing else, it will help me to getting back to the campaigns.

http://www.etsy.com/shop/CrapArt

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Gamma World

After about a year and a half of not playing, I’ve started up a new game, Gamma World – Oasis which I’m hoping will last longer than S.P.I.R.E.

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Lady of Pain's Shadow

Hey folks, just wanted a formal sense of closure to this particular OP campaign – for the time being, Sir Horatio's has closed its doors.  Between moving, and a cadre of other events leading up to the move, I've obviously not had time to run it.  However, a new campaign is coming up, in my new location (as well as online), in the world of Eberron – S.P.I.R.E.  Not sure if I'm using OP or not to post about it, yet, but, if I do, well, you'll all be the first to know.

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A Quick Note

Hey folks, sorry about the summaries this week, this is what I get for delaying the writeups for so long.  They're not going to be up to par to what I usually write, as the events aren't fresh in my mind, and I've been completely distracted these last two weeks.  I'm ready to pick things up where we left off this coming Sunday, though, so, looking forward to getting back into the game.

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Chapter Seven, Part Two

Openning the door again,  the party turned to face Nesterfettle and his two cambion allies.  They were as polite as they could be to the miniature devil, considering the circumstances.  Nesterfettle spoke calmly. "I only came to talk," he reassured them, as he fluttered into the room.  Most of the party wasn't convinced, however, and the conversation retained an air of uncomfortable tension.

"Listen," Nesterfettle continued, "I know you've been looking for me, so, I wanted to come to you and set things straight."  Nesterfettle continued to explain to them that he wasn't the least bit responsible for taking their keys, and that they should maybe consider the following facts:

  • Sir Horatio has an entire establishment whose sole purpose is finding portals and keys.
  • They keys went missing within his establishment, which Sir Horatio has complete control over.
  • Reuel disappeared quite convieniently at the right time, and was working for Horatio.
  • Sir Horatio was rather quick to forgive Reuel and accept him back into the Habitat. 

In short, Nesterfettle was pointing a hooked finger squarely at Sir Horatio. The party scoffed at this idea however; were they to believe some devil whose sole purpose was to corrupt and lie?  Lydia answered that question for us, summoning ball of flame, trying to deny the imp egress.  With a sigh, the imp simply flew through the fire, unscathed.  Once outside, he advised the party to seek out Den'tona, and Dinek, the other two residents that disappeared that evening.  Den'tona, Nesterfettle made the dead book, his neck snapped in the night, and Dinek got hipped into a different plane to keep her quiet.

Nesterfettle went on to tell the party on how to find them, and to use the ritual to speak to Den'tona, once they found him.  This is when a few questions arose, mostly in respect to said ritual, and how to use it.  Apparently, the imp had gone as far as to leave them a scroll to speak with Den'tona, though this was the first that most of the party had heard of it.  Lydia, however, looked nervous, very suddenly.

The Arrow noticed this. After the imp fluttered away, he demanded Lydia show the party the contents of her pack.  "I don't see why…" Lydia began, but, the Arrow would have none of it.  Grabbing her bag from her side, he tipped it over, spilling its contents.  Lo and behold, a ritual scroll was discovered amongst the items.  Words were exchanged, not many of them pleasent.  The only thing that stopped the arguing was the clearing of the proverbial throat of the Book.

Oh yeah, the party thought, we have something we should do.

Agreeing quickly to the terms, accepting payment in the form of a deed to Jysson's old office and a small hidden cache of jink, they decided to move on to Automata; they couldn't deny the fact that, throughout all of their adventures, they hadn't made a whole lot of money, so a paying gig would be a welcome change.  The adventurers took a few hours to prepare for their trip to the Outlands, and set to the portal once ready.

 

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My Sacrifice

Welome back for the third installmint of My Story.  I would like to apologize for the antics of my scribe last weak.  This article will be hand penned by none other than myself.  This weaks story tell the tale of a guardian who is filled with the desire of great conquest but faced with decision of humility.  I trape across a few more worlds and come out running, not for my life but for others.

Last we left off the rat-kin had been subdued and thier leader captured.  Several interrogation attempts were unsuccessful but fortunately the raven queen shined on us all and fate dealt us a new lead.  My comrades and myself we hit with blinding pain that lead us to an interesting quandry.  We dragged the bound and bleeding vermin across sigil until we arrived at the abode or a reincarnated cat and his awakened book.  The interesting pair had a story of honesty from beyond the grave.

 The cat was indebted from when he was not a cat to return the book for which he never completed paying for, and the book desired to be returned to its creator since its purchaser no longer had a need for it.  After a breif intrerruption by the nesterfettle guy we decided to let the rat go as a sign of our fearlessness.  Lucks fortune has spared him for now but i believe his fate is unchanged.  The imp had nothing new to tell me, he tries to spin his web, his points seem valid but his character is empty.  My own suspicion of Sir Horrartio is quelched by the fact the imp is playing on it.

 Moving forward we made out way to the plane of automoton to return the book.  The book was quite helpful in this.  We returned the book and for our hard work the book repayed us by revealing the location of an unknown cache of wealth from the cats former life and the cat entreated his domain onto us.  By luck rewarded us with the glory of battle.  Murder hungry vagabonds waited to slay us, capture the books creator and steal the book.  Our group moved quickly and dispatched the lot of them.  The leader escaped but not to a good fortune.  Outside the building where we found the books creator the city of automoton has been suprised by swarms of stampeding creatures from the plane of mechanar. 

While this march is a normally occuring event this occurance was not normal.  I do not think the Raven Queen will look kindly on this event.  She is a fickle creature driven by the order of the grand designed and chaos of fortune.  This event reeks of chaos, but it is not chance, its pungent odor is riled with insidiousness.  We did have the favor of sticking around to discover more though and we retreated back to Sigil and left the citizens to face thier own fate.

We sought the Imp one more time back in Sigil, his story is sidewards but it is compelling.  As my bahamut companion would say, let us step boldly into the danger, it is the step forward.   The imp gave us a lead to 'follow up' on at no small expense to himself.  So we made our way to the mortuary.  The imp is sly, he knew we would not stand for the abomination that greeted us.  A half dozen undead lead by a Wraith had the audacity to ask me what I was doing there.  The dead should never be restless – so i unleashed the fury of my queen in full force and drove the wraith immediately into hiding.  Emblazened the cleric took to my  side and we began to fell the lot of them.  The wizard truely showed he  might as she bayed several additional zombies and incinerate the desecrated remains of the unfortunate.

We found ourselves overwhelmed though and with my friends close to death we took retreat.  I nearly met my fate when the overzealous ranger attempted to cover our retreat.  She had not dealt me my final card though, and the luck of avandra saw me through.  My ladies favor me and I am forever indebted to them.

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Chapter Seven, Part One
Allow Me to Introduce Myself

Things started off this day, as they do many days, with a bit of torture back at Sir Horatio's.

Having decided that the fop/rat was worth bringing back for questioning, they tied the feral thing up and brought it back to Sir Horatio's, to some dark corner of the Habitat where the bear minimum of questions would be asked.  Well, the bare minimum of questions would be asked about the questioning of the fop/rat, and listen, you get the idea, they hid him away so they wouldn't get into any more trouble than they were already in.

They grilled the unfortunate lycanthrope for a short while about why Nesterfettle had sent him, how much he was getting paid, all manner of unimportant questions that novice interrogators are prone to ask.  Frustrated, the Arrow began threatening to cut off the rat's ear, though Durgin protested that those extreme measures weren't necessary.  Still, feeling a need to do something about the situation, the Arrow belted the bound lycanthrope, and was rewarded with a strange sensation in the back of his head.

The sensation started off as a tickle, then grew to something between a sneeze and a cough, and then escalated into unimaginable seering pain.  By the expressions on the rest of the party, they had been suffering from the same thing, as they began to stagger about the room in inexplicable agony.  But, they soon discovered, when they staggered in a certain direction, the pain subsided.

"You're comin' with us!" Savina growled at the bound rat, as the lot of the party staggered out of Sir Horatio's and towards the source of relief. 

So, imagine the scene, as a dwarf, elf, githyanki, shadar-kai and half-elf walk half-drunk with pain through the Great Bazaar, as they drag a bound and gagged lycanthrope in a chair behind them, like they're going to market.  Surprisingly, they got a considerably less stares than they thought they would get during this process, and found themselves, finally, at their destination.  A small building with a placard reading quite simply "Jysson".

Entering in, they dragged the rat inside to continue their questioning, now that their headaches had subsided.  None of them had even thought to ask around the building to see if anyone that may have been responsible for inflicting that level of pain was waiting around for them.  Most of them had their own pain to dish out now, and they certainly had more questions for the rat.  Why did you bring us here?  Do you know this place?  Why did you bring us here if you don't know this place?

And so it went, until a meager voice called out from the darkness of the office (which the building seemed to function as, with all the logs and journals laying around, collecting a copious amount of dust).  "I'm terribly sorry," the voice went on, "I didn't expect the process to be so painful for you."  When the party went to investigate the voice (keeping tight reigns on their wererat guest), they discovered a small grey cat, which had hopped up from a hiding space and perched on a nearby table.  When asked if he was the one that brought them there, the cat simply replied, "Nope.  Yer lookin' for the Book."

With that, a large leather tome opened all on it's own, a human visage on the pages seeming to speak to the group, which, if you took Haxxium's immediate reaction, was kind of creepy.  The Book explained that it had brought them there, through its humble little magics, and apologized for "pulling too hard".  The Book promptly offered them a job, which, after some negotation, the party accepted, so long as they could finish their business with the rat first.  The Book, having no means of locomotion, didn't really have any qualms with that, though the Cat seemed a bit impatient.  But, he would have to wait to explain why, as the part was just ENAMORED with this damned wererat.

After a few more pointed questions, and the location of where the wererat was supposed to meet his contact (the Tenth Pit Tavern, for those at home keeping track), they eventually decided to cut him loose, though the Arrow intended on following him to the contact.  Before they could cut him loose, there was a knock at the door.

"Are we expecting anyone else?" the Cat asked the Book.  The Book simply fluttered it's pages, the best it could come to a shrug.

Haxxium bravely opened the door, where he met eyes with a diminuative little imp, flanked by two much larger horned figures.  Raising his hand in the universal "give me just one minute" signal, he quickly closed the door again, and turned back to the party, saying that they had company.

 

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Savina's Story - Bone Chilling

How I love that most of our adventures lead us into dark, dank, and disgusting places. In this one, after almost being destroyed by a pack of Were-Rats, we capture their leader and drag him back to Sir Horatio’s for a pitiful interrogation, thanks to my brain cell less party members. Somehow we were able to get a little information out of him, but before we could wrestle anymore out, sharp migraines pulled us towards an old cleric’s office on the other side of town.

At the abandoned office, we stumbled upon a talking book and a cat, who in a previous life was a person and now wanted to repay his debt and go back to his world. I intently listened to the cat, while the rest of the party mumbled and shouted at one another getting nowhere, and soon realized that the task didn’t seem to be too much and we’d end up getting the office and some gold as a reward.

Before we could start on this task, the infuriating Imp we’d been chasing showed up and tried to convince us that he was not behind the latest assassination attempt on our group. Though we were all doubtful, the Baby flipped out and tried to burn him, which didn’t work all too well, obviously. This encounter changed our plans for a bit as the elf decided to follow the Were-Rat we released, which lead nowhere. He would have realized that if he had just listened to me, but, again, they don’t comprehend my intelligence.

Once Elf returned from his pointless task, we began our journey with the cat and ended up in a world where the rules were beyond deafening. Somehow, with how dumb the party is, we managed to not break too many rules and after a few leads found the man we needed to give the book to, who took it, but before we could finish the transaction, a large group came in and started a fight.

I was easily able to dodge all of their attacks. The rest of the party didn’t fair as well, though I need to give some credit to Elf who landed some nice blows on the elven leader of the group. With little hassle on my part, the group was defeated, but the rest of the town was not fairing so well, since a race of goodness knows what was literally stomping the city to the ground. We knew it wasn’t our fight, so we went back to the portal and zipped back to the cleric’s office, our new base.

After a much needed rest, we headed to the devil bar that the annoying little Were-Rat spoke of, but didn’t get much information, until Imp showed back up and revealed that Baby had been hiding something from the group and he also gave two names of people who might have information from us. We exposed Baby’s stealing, and cheating ways, and then immediately headed over to the mortuary to find Dead Tony, in hopes he might be able to point us towards our portal keys, and hopefully away from Sir Horatio as the cause.

Instead of finding just dead people, as we had hoped, we stepped into a small room full of semi-dead people intent on killing us and sucking our souls as well as an annoying floating creature. Our two religious nuts went crazy on Floatie as the rest of us focused on energies on the Whites. These semi-dead creatures put up a decent fight, but once I finally found my footing, I was able to easily skewer them on my spear and take them down as they attempted attacks on my fellow party members. We struggled for some time, but despite taking a few hits, they amazingly agreed to press on with the fight and go after the zombies in the next room. Not the best idea we’ve ever had.

These zombies, though slow, we’re almost solidly frozen and chilled us to the core as soon as they were within a reaching distance. Flag Boy and myself were smart enough to sound the alarm to run off, but Elf and Baby got it into their thick skulls that they could take these guys down. Magnificent finally carried his weight, and Elf’s, when Elf hit the ground and Magnificent had to drag him to safety. This close encounter had us skulking back to Sir Horatio’s and with the idea in my head that we were even further away from finding our portal keys. I’m not sure how much longer I can take working with this party before I start killing them off.

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Chapter Six, Part Three
Sending His Regards

Venturing out towards the Hive, fop in tow, the party shouldered past the crowds of the now "safe" Heap, making their way towards the drain that the overdressed socialite had been loitering close enough to for thugs to jump him and run off with his things.

Before they could make it very far, however, the party noticed something odd in one of the many piles of garbage that made up the bulk of the heap.  It wasn't uncommon to see bits of clothing and boots sitting in the piles, but, it was fairly unusual to see a pair of boots, heel out and kicking from a pile of trash.  A soft cry came out from the pile of garbage, a clear plea for help.  The Elven Arrow and Honeypot were on the boots in a flash, ready to pull free what looked to be an unfortunate cager who somehow got himself overrun by refuse.

Each grabbing onto a boot, they pulled as hard as they could, so hard that the boots came sliding off, relealing not a pair of feet, but, instead, a pair of leathery spiked paddles.  The otyugh, who the aforementioned graspers belonged to, lashed out at Honeypot, hoping to make a meal of the oversized ball of fur, but Honeypot deflected the now ravenous pile of filth with a newly found boot, flailing at the thing with soft leather.

Quick to act, the rest of the party rushed to fight the ovoid monstrousity, bearing down on it with everything they had before one of them was forcefully given a tour of the otyugh's digestive system.  Clease and Savina charged to engage the thing while Haxxium, Lydia, the Arrow and Katerina harried it with all manner of attacks from a distance, hoping to burn the creature down quickly.  In return, the creature defended itself by vomitting a cloud of gaseous brown-green sick, obscuring it from view.  Flailing and firing wildly into the cloud, it was Haxxium that saw that the beast had snuck out of its own stink, nearly invisble to the eye as it prowled towards the smallest (and it hoped, easiest) meal, Lydia.

With Haxxium's shout of warning, Lydia vanished into a puff of shadow, reappearing a short distance away in a film of darkness, while the rest of the party dove towards the beast, or at least, its approximate location.  Eventually, it revealed itself, as it began to charge the unfortunate fop who was watching from the sidelines.

Coiling the fop within its tentacled grasp, the otyugh was ready for a quick get-away.  What it wasn't ready for, however, was the full brunt of a newly-formed and underpaid adventuring party coming to defend a meal ticket.  They brutalized the triped, pummeling it into obvion, unleashing all they had to release their escort.  The otyugh didn't stand a chance.  

Brushing themselves off, and kicking the beast unceremoniously, the group proceeded on towards the grate leading underneath the ditch, not a few blocks away.

"Down there," Honeypot asked, reluctant to dive into filth, "You said he went down there."

"They," the fop said, correcting him.

"They," Honeypot continued, "They took your belongings and high-tailed it into the sewers."

"Saw it with my own eyes."

With a sigh, Honeypot lifted up the grate, and took one last look at the fop before jumping in.  The rest of the party followed suit behind him, with the fop peering over the edge of the manhole to see if he could get a good sight of the action.

Upon decending into the sewer, the the group saw, in the darkness ahead, a number of rats and rat-men, not 100 feet beyond themselves.  There were some disparaging remarks made towards the fop for failing to mention anything about ratmen, but, they couldn't press the issue, as they were concerned with their new company.  Besides, no reason to hurt the ratmen's feelings.

Still, it was odd that they were simply waiting down there for them; with all the time that had passed they could have gotten away, even with the portculii on each side of the sewer system.  The party asked if the ratmen had seen a pouch, or any documents, the ratmen said no, they had not, but, they were more than welcome to come closer and look around with them.  The Elven Arrow, knowing a thinnly veiled trap when he sees one, decided to try some old-fashioned diplomacy, and launched an arrow into one of the ratmen's throats.

Hissing and screaching, the rest of the ratmen and giant rats charged towards the party.  Honeypot quickly dispatched a clot of giant rats, releasing the stored electricity from his sword into a violent burst, filling the already pungent air with the smell of burning fur.  Haxxium moved forward to engage one of the bigger looking ratfolk, while the rest of the party took up their normal distances from the baddies.

Sticking his head down into the sewer, the fop inquired how things were going.  In concert, the party told him to shut up.  With a smile, the fop took this as a cue.  Dropping down between Katerina and the Arrow, the fop's features melted away into a rodent visage, and lashed his sword into an unexpecting Katerina.  With blood drawn, he whispered, "Nesterfettle sends his regards" to the stunned warlock, and pulled the blade back for another stab.

The ratmen were quick to move past the group biting and gnashing at anyone that got in their way; they all swarmed whatever unfortunate individual the fop was focusing on, and with the sudden appearance of a quarter-dozen swords cutting at her, Katerina quickly succumbed to the pain, and fell to the ground.  Like a swarm, the rats then swarmed towards the Arrow and Lydia, as Haxxium, Savina, Clease and Honeypot strugged through the filthy waters to defend their compatriots.

The fop struck first against the Arrow and Lydia, both who were trying so hard to keep their distance from the sudden onset of anthropromorphic rats, and failing.  In a flash, the fop-rat tossed out a fistful of tiny dagger, lashing at the pair, and gashing their foreheads, filling their eyes with blood.  The Arrow show wildly at where he had last seen his quarry, while Lydia did her best to defend herself against the sudden swarm of blades.

While things were looking badly, the combined might of Savina and Clease broke apart the stabbing party, Savina skewering a number of the ratmen on her pike, while Clease hacked a number of them to bits.  Honeypot contested with another ratman who was trying to avoid him and jump into the fray, and Haxxium fared a bit worse; in a desperate act, one of the ratmen leaped on Haxxium's armored form, and drove him down under the sewer water, a particularly gross version of mud wrestling.

Hacking down his combatant, Honeypot strode over to Katerina, and revived her, just in time for her to see the fop-rat, the last of most of the ratmen, get cut down.  He struggled for a moment, his wounds knitting together under some regenerative power, but, the stomping action of Honeypot's foot put a quick end to that.  

Finally, Haxxium had reversed his situation, gasping for air, no matter how foul it might be, and putting his ratman's head under the sick.  Incapacitated, the rest of the party quickly joined in on a communal beat-down of the last concious rat, which I'm sure can eventually be reflected upon as a bonding experience.

Katerina, slumping to the edge of the sewer walkway noted that the fop-rat had whispered that Nesterfettle had sent them.  Clease, not wanting to risk any more swordplay from a constantly healing rat, gleefully hacked the arms off of the fop-rat, beginning a particularly harsh rounds of questions for the unfortunate lycanthrope.

 

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