This whole “find your story as you go” thing is unlike how I usually write or GM, so I’m finding it fascinating and more than a little uncomfortable. For me, this moment is a big fork in the road on what sort of story this will be: Either our trio of heroines will escape the attention they’ve just attracted, giving them a chance to regroup, plan, and process what they’ve just experienced, or they’ll be detained by the City Watch, and likely enlisted to help. In other words, will this be a tale of vigilantes working outside the law or agents of the town’s castellan? I’m ready to embrace either possibility.
To find out, of course, we roll dice.
The “are the PCs in control?” element is what the Mythic GM Emulator describes as Chaos Factor. As the Chaos Factor increases (i.e. the PCs are less and less in control of the scenes), it is more likely that Fate questions answer Yes. As it decreases, the opposite is true. This system creates a sort of back-and-forth rhythm of surprising events in a story. Recall that last time I checked in on the Chaos Factor it was at 6, and I’m going to keep it there for now.
My Fate question: Do the PCs manage to escape the inner keep and immediate implications of the jail’s carnage? I would normally place the odds here at 50/50 – yes, they have been seen, but they also have superpowers and shock on their side. Because of the Chaos Factor, though, the chance of a Yes goes to 65%.
The roll: 74. Nope. Looks like the group’s about to be taken into custody and explain themselves. As a result, I’ll dial the Chaos Factor up to 7.
“Stop right there!” a guard, young and confident, pointed his finger at the trio as Kami and Emah pulled Maly to stand. The young Maly stumbled, still disoriented and wounded from the hulking rat creature lying dead at her feet. She blinked, her eyes trying to focus.
“We have to go, Maly,” Emah hissed through clenched teeth.
“I… I got it. Okay,” she panted. The guard was within several strides of them now, with more green-and-yellow livery bobbing through the crowd of gawkers behind.
“Kami?” the young man said, confused. He was Kaleen, dark skinned and tall, with a shaved head shining in the sun. As with all City Watch members, he held a broad-headed spear. Kami swore, briefly tucking her face below the wide brim of her hat before looking up with her masked face. She knew this man. Intimately.
“Hello, Hakau,” she said, straightening. Kami leaned on her walking stick casually, as if there weren’t a humanoid rat laying in a bloody pool on the cobblestone street between them. Her mind reeled, trying to find a way out of this mess. Why did these creatures have to attack the jail, today of all days? Why did they have to kill Hothorp before she could get to him? It was all insufferably bad luck.
Her more intimidating bodyguard, Emah Elmhill, scanned around them with a glower. A crowd had gathered, pointing and exclaiming at the dead rat-thing, muttering at Maly’s bloody, torn clothing. More Watch members emerged from the crowd, stopping and gaping at the unnatural corpse. Dammit all to the bottom of the sea!
“Sargeant Mewa?” a young Mesca woman in green and yellow asked the man, stepping forward hesitantly. Kami did not recognize her. “What do we do, sir?”
“What happened here, Kami?” he asked, ignoring the question from his colleague. His big, brown eyes were the man’s best feature, despite all the long, lean muscles and that honey-deep voice.
Kami shrugged with one shoulder, not taking her eyes from his. She sighed. “We were attacked in the jail, Hakau. I would only allow your strongest of heart and most loyal to go in there. It’s… like this,” she nodded her chin to the corpse. “But far worse. Everyone inside is dead.”
The sergeant licked his lips, then frowned, deep in thought, his heavy brows bunching. Poor man. He took his responsibilities so seriously.
“How does she know him?” Kami heard Maly whisper behind her.
Emah huffed through her nose. Kami imagined the woman rolling her eyes. “She runs a brothel, twit.”
“But… oh.”
Despite her tattoos, knife, and profession, Maly Wywich was very much an innocent. It made the woman adorable, but also a dangerous companion.
“Quiet,” Kami hissed back at them. They quieted.
Hakau cleared his throat, reaching up to unclasp his yellow cloak. “Esira,” he said to the woman behind him, who had been staring, wide-eyed, at the creature. She looked up at hearing her name. “Give me your cloak so I can cover this body. Then take two you trust into the jail. Leave the rest on crowd control and keep them the blazes away from here.”
“Y- yes, sir,” Esira stammered, unclasping her own cloak. Hakau spread his garment over the creature’s top half. “What about… uh, those three, sir?”
The sergeant’s brown eyes flicked up to Kami, then Emah and Maly. “I’ll escort them to the Keep when we’re done here. You’ll stay put, Kami?”
Kami half-smiled, though her voice held no warmth. “I suppose you’d know where to find me, Hakau.” He glowered as she let those words hang in the air, but the effect was lost on his companion Esira. It didn’t appear she heard the implication of the comment as she moved to cover the body. Kami sighed. “So yes, we’ll stay. I doubt we can answer any questions for you, though. We are simply bystanders here.”
“Well,” Emah growled behind her. “Our first job has been a bloody disaster.”
Much to everyone’s surprise, Maly laughed.
Time to switch scenes! I’m going to fast forward through the clean-up and interrogation of our PCs, since Crusaders tries to keep the story focused on the action. But I do want to pause and consider who questions our protagonists, because I think there’s a good chance that he or she will be a recurring character and could, depending on how things shake out, even join the party.
Back to the often used ICONS Origins Background Generator. I roll: Female, Mescan, 38 years old, fun-loving and playful (which is odd for an investigator, but okay), who values themselves and family, neutral towards most people, born in Oakton, was targeted by a sinister organization as a child (probably an Oakton gang), but then made a connection which gave them an opportunity (the City Watch, to hunt down the gangs). Okay, that’s enough. I’ve got her in my mind.
Estancia Calenta was not what Kami expected from a City Watch investigator. She was in her middle years, round in stature, with a pleasant, dimpled, large-eyed face that would age gracefully into her grandmotherly years. A simple green kerchief covered her otherwise loose, long black hair in the Mesca style. But, Kami noted, her hands were calloused and scarred, her fingernails short. Kami suspected this woman had seen her share of hard work and horror despite her maternal bearing, and she had never seen her within the walls of the Golden Heron.
Inspector Calenta leaned back in her chair, the wood creaking, and folded those hardened hands on the desk between her and the three other women. Kami and her two bodyguards all sat on stools in an unadorned, square room made of stone with high, small windows. They had taken her walking stick, Emah’s sword, and Maly’s two knives, assuring the group that they’d be returned when exiting the Keep. Two Watch members stood flanking the heavy, iron-banded door behind them.
“Alright, my dears, let me repeat the story. To make sure I’ve got it, ah?” she said, her voice husky, warm, and deep, like aged whisky. She addressed Kami. “You hired these two to accompany you to the jail because you feared harassment of some kind.”
“Yes,” Kami nodded. The inspector waited to see if she would elaborate, but Kami did not. She found that the economy of words and movement served best when being questioned or threatened.
“And you were going to visit this man,” she looked down at a note she’d scrawled on parchment, “this Raffin Hothorp, because… he owed you money, ah?”
Kami thought that perhaps she let the eye on the beautiful side of her face—for that is how she thought of it—twitch briefly. It wasn’t clear that the inspector saw it. “Yes,” she confirmed. “From a visit to the Heron.”
“Okay, dear, that’s fine. And when you got there, you found the jail was the scene of some battle, with everyone there dead, including all the guards. There were also these… creatures. The rats.” She pursed her lips, deepening her dimples. “You didn’t go call for help because you wanted to see if this Raffin man was alive?” Inspector Calenta’s index finger began tapping on her desk absently.
“That’s right.”
“Dangerous business, ah? Well, then more of these creatures attacked you, coming up from the toilets. Six of them, if the Watch sergeant’s estimation is correct. You fled, and the rats’ leader followed you out into the street. So far I got it all as you remember?”
“Exactly,” Kami nodded once again.
“My dear, you are either very brave,” the woman continued tapping her finger on the desk. “Or this man owed you more than just money, ah? Most people would see the blood and run, not go straight into the mess.”
“Yes, well,” Kami said. “I had two armed guards, didn’t I?”
“Mmm,” the inspector mused. “And didn’t die, the way our watchmen did, ah? So either brave and skilled, or very lucky. Your two guards managed to kill all six of the ambushers, plus their big nasty leader?”
“What can I say?” Kami grinned. “I hire good help.”
“Mmm,” Inspector Calenta looked at Maly. “How’re those injuries, my dear? You feeling okay?”
Maly blinked, seemingly surprised to be addressed. Her fingers touched the bandages. “Oh! Uh, fine, ma’am. Just scratches, really.”
“Be sure to watch for infection, ah? Rats carry disease,” the inspector smiled with those round cheeks. “No fever? You feel good?”
Maly grinned back, something Kami realized the woman’s presence invited. She would have been valuable at the Golden Heron, she mused. “I’ll be good as new in no time. I’m fine.”
“Good to hear!” the inspector’s tapping stopped as she clapped her hands together. “Just scratches, Kami, you see? You do hire good help indeed.” The inspector stood, as if coming to some sort of conclusion. “If your bodyguard is okay, you can all accompany me this afternoon somewhere, no?”
“Inspector?” Kami arched an eyebrow.
“Well, dears, the evidence all supports your story. But two new Adventurer’s Guild members with no reputation wiping out an entire squad of feral beats with…” those dimples deepened as she nodded to Maly. “Only scratches? Now this is amazing, ah? So, I want to see something, to test a theory, ah? Please, follow me.”
Where is Inspector Calenta taking them? Let’s find out with some Mythic rolls. First on the Locations description (56): Messy. Next twice on the Event Descriptor tables: (40) Fully and (91) Soft. Hm. I had to think about those three descriptors for a long time, and what I came up with is a stretch. On the other hand, the whole point of Mythic Emulator rolls is to provide inspiration and plot twists, and I’m happy with where this next bit is going.
“How did you bend the bars?” Maly asked her in a low, urgent whisper. “How did you move your body like that? What are you?”
Kami did not answer, keeping her eyes fixed forward beneath her wide-brimmed hat. Economy of words and movements, she thought. This is neither the place nor time for this topic.
“Answer me!” Maly hissed.
“Everything okay, dears?” Inspector Calenta asked loudly over her shoulder. Maly swore under her breath and Kami nodded with a tight smile back to the inspector.
Emah glanced between her and Maly and cleared her throat, frowning. “Where are we going, inspector? And can we get our weapons back soon, please? My sword is my mother’s.”
The woman had led them deeper into the Keep, through largely cramped and winding stone corridors, lit by torchlight and arrow slits. The place was cool, smelling of smoke and dampness. Kami had never been inside the walls of Oakton’s inner keep and it seemed that neither had Emah nor Maly. They quickly found themselves lost, with no sense of how they were proceeding or the place’s layout. At one point they went down a short staircase, only to ascend seemingly twice as far up another one a few minutes later. Kami had the dim sense that they moved roughly clockwise from where they’d entered, but, despite that knowledge, she was sure that she could not have gotten them back to Inspector Calenta’s meeting room if given the chance.
“Almost there now!” the inspector called over her shoulder happily to Emah. “Just a quick stop and you’ll have your family sword back, dear.”
Shortly thereafter, they came to a heavy door, outside of which stood a gangly, long-necked South Islander youth in the yellow-and-green of Oakton. He looked nervous and sweaty despite the cool temperature within the keep, his throat bobbing when he saw them all. Kami wondered briefly if the act of getting older was feeling that everyone around her was too young for their stations.
“Why hello, Watchman Weegate! Have the others arrived?” the inspector asked with a wide smile and deep dimples.
“Y-yes ma’am,” the young man nodded. “Inside and ready, like you asked.”
“That’s a good boy,” she clapped him on the shoulder. “Here we are then,” she said to Kami and her companions, then opened the door.
Beyond the portal was a large room. Thick, colorful rugs and carpets adorned the stone floor, and in various places stood straw-filled dummies on wooden stands. A few City Watchmen battered the dummies with practice spears and swords whose blades were wrapped in cloth. Others sat or stood scattered around the training room, talking in groups. Many crowded around a true mountain of a man, a Kalee with shaved head and skin as dark as iron. Everyone quieted when the door opened, except one woman who kept battering her dummy mercilessly. Eventually the huge man cleared his throat, stopping the woman and making her cheeks color in embarrassment. A few of the others chuckled.
“Come in, come in,” Inspector Calenta ushered them, smiling. Kami arched her eyebrow again and walked forward. Emah followed, then Maly. After all three had entered, the inspector swung the door shut with an echoing boom!, making Maly jump. Calenta waved her hand. “Well, go on now, get in the middle of the room there. Here dear, I can hold your hat.” One of those meaty hands took Kami’s wide-brimmed hat, almost gently.
Confused, the trio wandered to the middle of the room. The watch members had all stood now, their eyes glued to the three companions. Some smirked, others looked terrified, and still others scowled. In their hands they clutched their spears and swords. Even though the practice weapons were made entirely of wood and padded with cloth, they looked ready to fight. Silence reigned for several heartbeats. Tension permeated the air.
“I… don’t know what’s happening here,” Maly whispered into quiet.
Inspector Calenta cleared her throat. “Alright now, dears. I appreciate everyone making time for this exercise. Kami, Emah, Maly,” she smiled at them from the door. “I was quite impressed by what I heard from the jail, and goodness knows we need some help with everything happening in the city these past weeks. So we’re going to see if you’re up to the task I have in mind, or if your tale is nonsense.”
“See if we’re…?” Emah scowled.
“See if you can fight as well as Miss Misaki’s story claims, of course,” the inspector chuckled, and something glittered in her merry eyes. “The goal is submission. Pannu, are your people ready?”
The large man’s white smile split his face. “We are, yes.” He winked at Kami.
“Okay then, let’s go!” and in one motion she tossed Kami’s hat aside and clapped her hands together.
“Wait, what?!” Maly squeaked.
The room of guards whooped and rushed them.
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