Just thought I'd take a moment to throw pictures up of our gaming table as it stands right now.  It's amazing how many people we manage to cramp around this thing.

The table proper (pushed against the wall).

The folders, and the dice box.

The flyers posted on the walls of Sir Horatio's.  Note the cozy country decor.

Sir Maxwell Honeypot.

Nonimus Fodero.

Drugin Rexhammer

Commander Krevash.

Lastly, the contents of the dicebox itself.

Candi of PaintedKnights.com makes these, and honestly, it's a great little box.  It can hold, as the name denotes, dice, as well as initiative cards, notes for the players, bribes from the players, dice bags, pencils, so on and so forth.  Also has a built-in dry erase board, which is cool for jotting down lil' notes here and there.  Check it. 

After a particularly harrowing day in another dimension, the party headed back to Sir Horatio's for a well deserved rest.  They discussed amongst themselves what steps they'd be taking next.  It made sense to most of them that if a door is located in the Great Bazaar, then, they can likely shop for the other portal keys there, as well.

Sleep came easily after a day like that; and with no portal keys to get stolen, they rested even easier.

Krevash and Drugin slept in, the following day; after being blown up twice in one day, they both felt they deserved a day to sleep in.  However, missing out on the previous day's excitement (and not getting much accomplished by themselves), Sir Maxwell Honeypot and Clease "The Cow" Tormot joined the group on their expedition to the Bazaar.  Lydia, Nonimus, Katerina, Savina, Leahcim and the two exceptionally tall and hairy folks that joined them (Honeypot looks, at times, like a teddybear with nothing to do but work out, while Cleases' bovine form is impossible to ignore, due to the sheer size of him), began to venture out.

Before they left, Sir Horatio consulted with them, quickly.  He was no closer to finding Reuel, sadly, however, he had heard of their venture into one of the Many-Earths, as he called it.  He handed them two bits of paper – one was a crude map of the known planes; it's always good to know where one might end up.

The second bit of paper was a note from a local publisher, or so it said – someone that had previously worked on the Korrenburg Chronicle, and was interested in hearing the stories of the fine folks of Sir Horatio's, and was willing to pay well for their stories, either for their adventures in the past or those within (or because of) the City of Doors.  They tacked up this offer to the post in the common room, and quickly continued on their way to the bazaar, hoping that this day would be more productive (and marginally less violent) than the one before.

With the possible exception of a short little outburst from Katerina, their hopes were fulfilled.  While it took the party the majority of the day to sort through the countless merchants throughout the Bazaar and find the items on their list, the job was done. 

Their list followed:

• A white queen
• A shard of purple glass
• A glass eye
• A rat skull (which they had 'found' already)
• A small length of chain
• And a two headed coin
  

They were also looking for the portal that was on Duke's list, supposedly somewhere in the Great Bazaar.  This being their first goal, they were quick to find a merchant who sold, of all things, simply doors; he confirmed that Reuel was indeed a client of his, and had picked up a door from him not two nights ago, and hauled it off himself to the Hive.  Upon asking what kind of door, the merchant produced another, unfinished one; he said that if they were interested, this fine method of egress could be purchased for a mere 250 jink, gold peices.  A bit skeptical, but, worried that they didn't have many other options, they put 50 down on the door, and went on their way.

They ventured to weapon merchants, upon Savina's request, to replace her exploded spearhead, as well as to Gamemaster Griggs, an particularly affluent merchant who specializes in exoctic (and expensive games).  After convincing him to 'damage out' a chess set, they bought a single ivory queen from him.

They were unfortunate enough to meet Azalaklim the Rat, a devilish little creature from unknown origins; he promised them a glass eye, for the silver they paid, though he would not go into detail as to where he acquired it form.  He also took a liking to Savina, gifting her with a small bit of jewelry (she begrudgingly accepted the gift, and tied it around the haft of her new spear).  Luckily for them, this little token of admiration was a bit of small chain in and of itself, and they felt that would suit the need.

Asolianar, the Glassblower, was subject to a torrent of verbal abuse before eventually selling the party a small purple bauble; an unusual and exotic bauble, with swirls of different shades of purple within the glass, and ornate, tiny openings in the top of the glass.  A shame that it was so pretty, as the party just intends to smash it for a shard, when the need comes.

However, the last stop on the party's list, while travelling through the Bazaar, was a humble little stand with a extraordinarily large sign.  'MERRYWEATHER'S PRANKS AND TOMFOOLERY' it said, and it seemed like a perfect place to find themselves a two-headed coin… 

...however, Merryweather was absent.  Instead, tending this lean-to of a shop was a dull little dragonborn, named Mobo.  Mobo the Simple, many called him, though never to his face.  Dull or not, the simp at least looked intimidatating, with rows of awful teeth, and a similar look in his eyes that you would see in a stunned cow.  Still, there was something behind those cloudy eyes… no, nothing.  Nevermind.  Mobo was an idiot.

The exchange between the party went from simple inquiry to a pleading for help to Katerina distracting the dullard for a moment, then suckerpunching him into unconciousness.  The noble Sir Honeypot bit his tongue in this case, as he doesn't have much time for dullards himself, but still had to bellow at the party for trying to stock up on various prank and joke items.  Savina dug up a box with a two-headed coin inside, the group left some real coins under the collapsed Mobo, and they decided to beat feet before any Hardheads came around to ask questions.

All in a day's work. 

Hello, everyone.  I'm just writing here to throw out the occasional thoughts I have regarding the game and what have you.  I'm not certain how frequent these little musings will be, likely when I need a thought-dump and I need to get some things out that don't fit into any other section.

That being said, let's see what I have here.  Hm.  OK.  I'm going to be making some rules changes to how one 'catches up' with XP – instead of having to attend a number of sessions you missed, it's going to be whenever you attend a session, you'll make up the least recent session for XP reasons – that way catching up is a bit quicker, while still allowing the people that are there every session to stay on top of the PC power-curve.  I've also moved XP totals from each character to the player attendance screen, so you can see your XP totals there.  Just easier to edit on my part, and anything that cuts down time updating this site, gives me more time to work on the game proper.  I'll be sure to change the 'crunch' section to reflect that rules change.

Also, though none of you have really asked, a voice in the back of my head has sort of been wondering why I've been breaking down each chapter into 'parts'.  Well, this is mostly a reflection of my thought process, I can't usually concentrate on any one given thing at a time for very long, so breaking them down into subchapters really helps me put them together.  When I attempt to put too much into one post, I tend to, as Tom said, 'get a little punchy', and start making mistakes as my mind begins to wander, or I begin rushing things.  I want to give you guys the best log I can, as best as I can remember.

The reason for these logs is really hope, more than anything else.  I hope this campaign goes on for a long time, and once its finally reached its conclusion, I want to throw all the logs into a publication of some sort, with your characters, created items,  monsters, etc.  Even if I have to print them out at Staples or some such, and bind them that way, or go to Lulu to publish them, whatever way works.

This is probably the most thought I've put into a campaign since I first got my mitts on Dungeons & Dragons 3rd Edition (that's 3.0 to those that need to know), and I'm in a much better place to put together this campaign than I had been back in the day, so, I'm expecting things to go well. But with this campaign, unlike the previous one, there are some players that don't know each other well, so, they are less apt to work together.  When I ran that 3rd Edition game, it was  with (and if I don't recall correctly, forgive me) Mike, Tim, Good Tom, Evil Tom, Sarah M., and Lilly, with the occasional cameo.  These folks knew each other fairly well, so the group dynamic was pretty tight.

With this new crew, some folks seem to get along fairly well, as they've known each other for a while, but with some new players in the mix, things are bound to be a little tense, as you don't know how they play.  That's actually why I designed this adventure the way I did, trying to temper the group to work together through various hardships, and feeling obligated to work together for their mutual benefit.  Right now you're getting the flames, soon you'll get the forge.  Now's the opportunity to stick your neck out for the other party members and prove that your character is going to be helpful to the party; the first few sessions set the tone for what could be a long time of playing.

Now's also the time to define yourself in the party.  One clear example of this is of Leahcim the Pious, who's proving to be exceptionally sly, the face of the party when dirty deeds need doing, and Nonimus is falling into the role of the mastermind, plotting far ahead of what the party sees.  So, forget about the 4th Edition roles like Leader, Striker, Defender, Controller… these are only tactical roles.  Start thinking of your role in the party for other situations, when violence doesn't ensue.  Think of famous teams throughout time, and what they each brought to the table; like the A-Team.  Yes, I will invoke the A-Team for this.  Because they were awesome.

The group charter (though still unregistered!) is a good idea, setting a backbone for the party's ideals, but, don't let it become a doctrine.  There are certain situations where people are going to want to break the rules for the good of the party (or in some cases, not… the occasional conflicting ideals should come into play occasionally, so long as they're not a COMPLETE game-break).  There are going to be situations that call for fireballing an ally, if it's a good opportunity to clear out a gaggle of minions surrounding him.

At any rate, got lots planned for you folks, so, try not to kill each other, there's plenty out on the planes to do that for you. 

PS – Apparently, I only recently got the items to link correctly; so now, if you want to see the various goods that you guys have come across in your adventures thus far, simply bring yourselves over to the Wiki, and you'll be able to find all manner of things. 

PPS – To break up the WALL OF TEXT that is this musing, please enjoy this photo of me drunk, sweaty, fat, rocking out to Rock Band and making the Worst Face Ever. 

There was no time to come up with a real escape plan.  The group stood at the doors they entered into, while Nonimus checked the other doors in the workshop for a potential egress.  The first door he checked contained an unpleasent surprise: about 5 dozen more scrubots.  Quickly closing the door, Nonimus backed away slowly, hoping they hadn't noticed him.  However, the sound of gears moving, and the sound of 'UNCLEAN' from the other side of the door dashed those hopes.  From the other door, similar sounds could be heard… the things must have some kind of hive-mind, the party mused (or wireless connection, but, what did these backwoods primes know about things like that?).

Only one set of doors remained, and, ears pressed to the cold metal of them revealed no screeching of mechanical bloodlust.  The party opened the door, saw the stairs leading down and away from the workshop, and took them.

At the bottom of the stairs sat a lone transportation platform, hovering free of any track.  The party tried determining of Reuel had used it before, but, with the scrubots suddenly crashing through the doors above them, they simply decided to pile on and begin yelling 'FORWARD FORWARD FORWARD'.  And forward it went.

The platform lurched forward; the scrubots followed.

Screaming orders at the platform, the group didn't seem to agree on what to do for the most part, as the platform sped further into the complex, with an army of angry machines behind them.  A few things they could agree upon was to throw anything they could at the their persuers, and thank whatever diety watches over this horrible place that the things didn't have projectiles themselves.  Suddenly, the platform swung into a hallway, filled with other platforms, all heading towards the party.  The horrified looks upon the other drivers was entertaining, but not worth sticking around to see.  After dodging and scraping against a few other citizens, the platform jumped a divider, heading onto a side where the drivers could all seem to agree on what direction to go.  While a few scrubots were crushed by the oncoming traffic, most of them followed over the divider as well.

The group sped along, trying to get the now dented and dinged machine to go faster, when they saw a grated tollgate quickly approaching.  Lydia stood up, waving her stolen identification card wildly, which seemed to work – the gate began to rise, slowly.  However, the platform was told to speed up, and Lydia and most of the other party only barely managed to duck into the platform as the gate shaved off the covered top of the transform.

Swerving into another tunnel, the party thought it a wise idea to slam into what appeared to be a medical transport, which, while unfortunate for whomever was in the transport and those who were waiting for the medical team, seemed to help with their current scrubot issue.  The medical transport spun and flipped, crashing and exploding into a part of the scrubot mob.  Red-hot shrapnel filled the tunnel, showering nearby citizens with scalding death, but, beside some bumps and bruises, the group was fine.

'APPROACHING SPIRAL RAMP' the platform proclaimed.

'Spiral what?' Nonimus apparently wasn't sure what that meant.  Krevash was, however, as he screamed for the platform to slow down.  The platform complied, but not enough so that it wouldn't whip around the ramp violently, making everyone inside ill as they spun down several stories.  On top of all that, the scrubots managed to catch up for a moment – a few latched onto the back of the spinning machine, pummeling Drugin, who had the misfortune of being towards the back of the platform, mercilessly.

At the bottom of the ramp, it sped up, loosing the scrubots from the back of platform, as Drugin dragged his bloodied form closer to the front of the speeding machine, dug up the device that he had found in his jumpsuit, and began firing beams of red light wildly into the mass of machines following. The wild firing ended quickly. as Nonimum commanded the platform to crash through what appeared to be a glass covered garden.  A deafening crash and a showering of glass followed as they suddenly found themselves racing through a jungle, losing yet more scrubots in the process.  Moments later they crashed through the other side, to what appeared to be clear road.

Everyone began congratulating themselves on a fantastic escape, forgetting for a moment about the remaining machines that gave chase.  The platform rushed forward towards to what many would think was a lightshow.  Beams of deadly yellow, blue and red light lit up the hallway they were driving towards, some disagreement between two groups of citizens.  Seeing this, the party ducked into what remained of the platform for cover.  The platform was filled with burnmarks as it careened through the deadly firefight; several of the machines giving chase fell to the deadly beams as well, but most survived the onslaught, continuing to follow the platform as it swung left at a Y intersection.

'WARNING' the platform announced, much to the group's chagrin, 'NOW ENTERING EXPLOSIVES MANUFACTURING FACILITY'.  It was only then that the party decided it should be careful where it went.  Slowing the machine again, it weaved carefully past crates filled with what they could only assume Very Bad Things, the machines once again caught up and latched on.  With a few well placed shots, they were peeled off as they exited the facility, and down yet one more hallway, and sped off.

Finally the the platform slid to a stop, announcing they had reached their destination.  Everyone jumped off the thing as fast as they could, but Katerina (who had been screaming this entire time) and Lydia weren't fast enough.  The scrubots swarmed down the hallway to the now still platform, while another, larger platform followed.  Crushing the remaining machines under its wake, the large platform slammed into the smaller one, pinning Katerina and Lydia within.

The party jumped to free the two trapped arcanists, when Nonimus noticed where they were – the very dormatories they started this horrible misadventure in.  Behind the closed door, through a small window, he saw the face of their former bartender, Reuel, who was wide-eyed at the arrival of the group.  Before the party could free Katerina and Lydia, the bald brute that is Reuel ran away from the door, and dove through what looked to be a now-active portal on the other side of the doorway.

It took a few minutes more to pry the platform apart to the point where escape was possible, and as soon as they could, they darted towards the dorm, kicking the door aside and diving through the portal, arriving back in Sigil, into an apparently empty courthouse.  Quickly running outside to the city proper, they looked for any sign of Reuel, but, he was no where to be seen. 

After cleaning up a the vats, the party accosts the crowd with questions.  Finding a particularly simple looking citizen, they ask him where this 'R&D' is.  After a few moments of stuttering out directions, Krevash simply demands that they take them to it.  The simple citizne sheepishly agrees that yes, that would be a great deal easier.

So down a number of corridors they go, winding through the complex until they reach a pair of double doors, a big red R painted on the left door, a D on the right, and an ampersand haphazardly painted in the middle, as if the painter was assaulted by the swinging doors mid-stroke.  A pair of guards,  each dressed in green and armed with nasty looking implements, stood to each side of the door.

Leahcim lied, as he's apt to do, about a radation leak of some kind, a phrase he had heard being thrown around a lot since he arrived through the portal, and the guards stern faces turned to a shock-white pall of panic, and let the party stroll right in.  Another guard, sitting inside, feet up on the desk of what looked to be some kind of reception area, looked up as they entered.  The party wasted no time in looking to see if Reuel had passed through.  Digging through the logs, the guard did note that an individual matching that description did come through, perhaps an hour ago.

Feeling like they were hot on the heels of their portal-key theif, they barged through the doors to head deeper into R&D.  Much to their surprise, they found a number of individuals barging into the room from another door at the same time.  A woman, who would later be introduced as Andrea-B-GKA, a pair of red-robed scholars of some kind, and the wayward Marco-G-BUD, who was surprised, and, not to pleased to see them.

Still, Marco-G ran with their arrival, introducing them to Andrea-B, and saying they were just in time for a demonstration of some new R&D devices.  It was clear to the party that he was trying his damnedest to impress this Andrea.  Sadly, things didn't go too well for him, however; after showing Andrea-B a number of things that clearly bored her, he grabbed a number of random devices and asked the party to display them for her.  Nonimus pushed a button on a pack of something called Fire and Forgetpicks, which launched a flechette of steel toothpicks at Marco.  The vicious little needles swarmed up to his face like a million angry ticks, and proceeded to pick him to death.  After a few moments, Marco's screaming stopped, as he collapsed into a pool of his own blood.

Andrea-B was annoyed.

Not a few moments after Marco's now-ventilated head hit the ground, another Marco-G-BUD stepped through a pair of double doors into the room.  The party was still nonplus at Andrea-B's lack of a real reaction to even begin to register this.  So, when Marco-B ordered the party to dispose of his previous body, they didn't even put up a struggle, and stuffed the inanimate form into a nearby trashbin.

Andrea picked right up where she left off.  She wanted something big, IMPRESSIVE, dangerous.  Did Marco-G have anything like that?  Eyeing the party (especially those who just crammed his body, unceremoniously, into a bin) he said, with no uncertain amount of venom, that he did indeed.  Before the party could excuse themselves, Marco strode over to the far corner of the room, pulling the sheet off of another device.  Underneath, a massive scrubot, at least four times the size of the puny little things that they had encountered before.  The thing had horrible devices at the end of each of its arms, which clearly brought its original cleaning design into question.  Any doubt that this machine was no longer simply a device to get out tough stains, the words WARSCRUBBER were painted across the machine's front, and its drill-like attachment at the end of one of its arms was through Marco-G.

'UNCLEAN' it bellowed in a tinny roar 'UNCLEAN!  TAKE ME OFF OF YOUR LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIST!'  A small globe launched from its belly with a small 'foomph' sound, and landed next to Durgin and Krevish, and then exploded into a firey mess.  Both of them went flying into the air, Durgin flung away from the 'bot, and Krevash, unfortunately, towards it.

The party was quick to react – despite it being a tower of metal, the group seemed to collectively think that melting it down to slag with fire would be the best way to go about business.  Leahcim set the WARSCRUBBER ablaze with a thought, as Durgin got up and struck at it with a holy burst of scorching flame.  A firey burst erupted underneath the machine at Lydia's will, Krevash stroked the flames with his own firey breath, and lastly, Katerina heated it up even more with a flick of her wrist.

The cries of being removed from any list were replaced with a solid whine of 'WHHHHYYYYYYYY' as the thing burned.  It flailed its now-flaming arms dangerously towards the group, but, everyone seemed to be in top form, deflecting every blow that swung their way.  Not soon thereafter, the previously horrifying machine collapsed to the ground, having been pummelled from every angle (files were reported later, within the complex, that these individuals were simply trying to extinguish the flames, and got a bit overzealous in the act).

After the dust had cleared, they saw Marco's crushed body, and saw Andrea had been slain in the battle as well, inadvertantly.  The party felt some solice in thinking that, they'd likely be back in no time.  However, their next visitors weren't Marco and Andrea at all.

A buzzer rang outside the doors that the group had entered through.  Quickly securing it, the party heard a voice from the other side ask if everything was OK.  A few reassuring words from the party shot back at him.  'Everything's fine!' 'Yep, all taken care of in here!' 'Don't mind the blood pooling under the door!'  Satisfied with the responses, the voice continued, and asked if the party had placed an order.  A small slip of paper slid under the door.  Durgin quickly scooped it up, and read it aloud.

'Scrubot series 3.  One gross.  Delivered and paid in full.'  

Before the group could tell the voice to return the shipment, they heard the familiar clicks and whirs of machines on the other side.  It was at about this time that the idea to flee came about. 

The resulting explosion knocked one of the steel tables into Krevash sending him flying across the room, as the shrapnel from the now exploded bits of Savina's spear and Durgins helmet showered them with red-hot metal.  Katerina was partially shielded by Krevash's flying form, but was waylayed by Lydia, who was hurtled through the air, tossing them both to the ground.  The room echoed now with even more wails, now ones of pain, and the room was thick with the ashes of paperwork that once dominated the room.  Leahcim and Nonimus poked their heads back in to see if their partners were still intact, and, infact they were, if not in terrible condition.

Durgin suffered the worst of it, bits of helmet flak buried in his arms and chest, but his devotion to Bahamut was still strong, even in this world – his wounds healed quickly under his own magic, and a few quiet words of encouragement from the dazed Krevash.  After spending a great deal of time cleaning up their wounds, and moving splattered remains of Hans-O out of the way, the party decided it would probably be best to move on before anything else exploded. 

However, just outside the now damaged door that once lay behind the once-intact Hans-O was promises of more violence.  Not far down the hallway leading away from the door there were shouts for help, coming from, the party quickly realized, a man dressed to the gills in green.  Turning the corner, he bolted towards the party.  Not soon after, a number of metallic figures bounded behind him, shouting 'UNCLEAN!  UNCLEAN!  TAKE ME OFF YOUR LIST!'.  Flailing metal arms wildly, like a robot out of a science fiction, they charged the green figure.  The party interfered.

The sounds clanging of metal on metal, and bolts of crackling eldritch and force energy filled the air, as the party met with these rampaging machines.  One after one, the machines were violently disassembled; the flailing arms and stinging cleaning solution was no match for the collective might of planerunning adventurers.

Now safe, the green figure introduced himself as Marco-G-BUD.  A few niceties were exchanged, and a reward was offered… all he would need is their identification, or ME cards to transfer the funds.  Eager to finally be rewarded for all their hard work, most of the party handed them over quickly.  Savina and Lydia were reluctant, however, getting an uneasy feeling from the man in green.

Still, the money transferred, or so the party assumed – it certainly looked that way, anyways.  After all was said and done, Marco-G offered to guide the party to outfitting, which they (according to him) so clearly needed.  While suspicious, at least it was something of a lead, and the party followed.

Red corridor, to red, until they reached a series of black alleyways, unpainted or adorned with any colors whatsoever.  Eventually they were led into a bustle of activity; something they at least recognized.  A bazaar!  Still, they didn't let their guards down completely.  They had no idea what half of the things are that people were selling, nor how this particular market worked.  In all of their standing agog at the various wonders of the market they had been brought to, they had completely forgotten about Marco-G, who had disappeared into the crowd.

Not soon thereafter, most of the parties communication devices started lighting up with a series of unsolicited and illicit messages from unknown senders.  Only Krevash, Savina and Lydia did not recieve any, and Krevash's only excuse was that he didn't have one of the devices. 

Still, there was shopping to be done, and on someone else's dime; they ME cards the party had swiped from the room with all the stiffs proved to work as currency as well.  Savina picked up a sharpened pipe to replace her exploded spear, and Nonimus convinced a few others to pitch in for what one vendor called 'kinetic boots'.  They promised to help him move along faster, which he was eager to take advantage of.  Katerina, however, had a brighter idea; she asked where she could get ahold of some scrub-bots.  Sadly, they were out of stock, it seemed, but, they were probably lucky anyhow.  The vendor advised that there had been a recent 'incident' with scrub-bots in the 'vats' nearby, where they were tossing in citizens with reckless abandon.

This was more of a lead than the party could have hoped for.  Gathering their things (and silencing their communication devices, now lighting up with activity such as 'G3t b1G 10 i|\|cH nao), the party rushed off to these 'vats'.

The vats themselves weren't much to look at.  Just giant metal tubs filled with a soupy black liquid (which was later discovered to be food of some variety).  Above these tubs a crowd was forming.  On a catwalk near the door to what was apparently a storage room, dozens of individuals in black jumpsuits crowded, trying to gain entrance to the storage room itself.  When the party approached, the crowd stepped aside.  'Thank the Computer,' a voice from the crowd was heard, 'Troubleshooters!'  The party was then told that a number of scrubots, after the vat incident, had locked themselves inside this storage room, and were apologizing profusely.

Apologies or not, the party wanted in.  Nonimus found a simple latch under a panel nearby the door, and flipped it, granting the rest of the party access.  They swung the door open, and were met with a familiar sound.  'UNCLEAN!  TAKE ME OFF YOUR LIST!'  The scrubots, who had been feeling very sorry for themselves up until that point, made a beak for the door, arms flailing dangerously once again.  Nonimus managed to trip one and send it stumbling into a nearby vat, just before being introduced to a Very Large Box.  Seeing Nonimus pinned underneath, the rest of the party moved in to join the fray.

A few moments passed, and the party emerged from the room, covered with oil, and wiping their eyes clean of the cleaning spray that had misted the room.  While some tended to their wounds, Savina simply shouted to the crowd (who had decided to watch the violence ensue), 'Has anyone seen a man named Reuel?!'

Fingers from the crowd all pointed towards a hallway leading to a place simply called 'R&D'. 

Attendance: La_Chimenea, frodolives86, Michael_Lightbringer, firefly, Anomalousresult, emacspirate, Palandar

PCs: Katerina Walewska, Commander Krevash, Durgin Rexhammer, Leahcim the Pious, Nonimus Fodero, Savina, Sir Maxwell Honeypot, Lydia, House Maricomorian, Cleese "The Cow" Tormot
NPCs: Andrea-B-GKA, Asolianar, Glassblower, Azalaklim the Rat, Ferd, Gamemaster Griggs, Marco-G-BUD, Mobo the Simple, Reuel "Duke" Dukat, Sir Horatio, The Pigs
New Monsters: n/a
XP: 403
Items: Laser Pistol (simple ranged; range 10/20; 1d6 radiant damage; reload move), Personality Stablizer, RED Laser Barrel, Potion of Healing, Multicorder, PHTCMK, Delver's Leather Armor

With their portal back to Sigil locked behind them, and the cause of death (or at least the reason) of their new companions (you know, the stiff ones, in the steel cots) uncertain, the party, after some coaxing from Nonimus and Savina, decided it would probably be in their best interests to at least pretend to be working on the mission.  Reading the print-out, the first stop indicated seemed to be a transport station of some kind.

Lucky for them, it was a simple jot down a cold, steel hallway until they found what they were looking for.  A covered platform slided into place in front of them, its metal doors sliding aside, welcoming them inside.  Cautiously, the group stepped forward towards the platform, which was also lucky, as the moment of hesitation between them standing there, and approaching the platform, saved them the fate of twisted, flaming bodies.

Another platform, in far worse shape, slammed into the back of the welcoming one, sending it flying off its tracks, and bursting into white-hot flames at the far-end of the path that it landed.  The metal twisting and bending, the first covered platform looked nothing like a means of conveyance; instead, it looked exactly like a flaming death trap. 

The second platform, which caused all this carnage, tried to open its doors in a similarly welcoming manner, but due to the generally bad shape it was in from crashing into things, it seemed that the doors were having none of it.  The second platform spoke, shouting 'WELCOME'.

The conversation that followed between the party and the dented-up platform was mostly an excersize in confusion.  Between the shouted demands of the party such as 'BRIEFING ROOM!  DESTINATION!  HOME!', and the shouted questions of the platform, who was only trying to help, of 'DESTINATION?  WELCOME!  SELF-TERMINATION CENTER?' nothing much got done until most of the party simply pried the doors off the side of the thing, climbed and asked it to go forward.  Krevash reluctantly leaped on the thing as it was pulling away.

Much to the surprise of all aboard, the trip did not end in explosions.  The battered platform coasted slowly into the next station, stating (loudly) 'YOU HAVE REACHED YOUR DESTINATION.  WELCOME!'.  The party hastily disembarked, not eager to spend any more time on a schizophrenic transport than they needed to, and proceeded down the hallway which they were deposited in front of.

Quickly, the party came to a dead end, with three doors, one blue, another yellow, and finally, a red door.  Noting the general themes of things thus far, they elected to avoid the blue and yellow door altogether, attempting to open the red door.  Of course, as luck would have it, it was locked.  Upon knocking, they heard a voice on the other side half-shout, half-wimper 'GO AWAY'.  They had no intention of doing so.  They threatened to call the authorities, whomever they might be, but to no avail.  Eventually, they pried the door open, eager to be breifed and be on their way.

The scene they stumbled upon was an odd one.  Two steel tables, knocked over in one corner of the room, formed much like a child would create a fort; papers were scattered everywhere across the room, and the wimpering sound that echoed throughout seemed to be centered behind this impromptu fort.  The party approached, cautiously, to see a man in an orange jumpsuit, the name Hans-O-SHF embroidered onto it, curled up in a ball and shivering.  'GO AWAY' he wailed again, as the party surrounded him.

Despite his obvious state, many of the group began assaulting him with questions.  Is this the briefing room? 'Er, yes, yes, it is'.  What is our mission?  'Oooooooh', he begain to wail some more, looking through nearby papers, 'something about scrub-bots'.  What are scrub-bots? 'Ooooooh, leave me alone!'  Is your name Hans?  'Yes!  It is, it is!' Is your name Gunther? 'Yes!  Of course'.

The party quickly huddled and and agreed that Hans-O was likely to agree to anything they ask, so long as 'yes' was a possible answer.  As they turned around to see if they could exploit this to their liking, they quickly discovered that Hans-O was not only quite agreeable, but, also armed with some sort of round, blinking device.

Many of the party had never seen, nor heard of, a grenade.  Still, being adventurers, there is a certain level of instinct that kicks in around danger, and the collective eyes of the party widened as they saw him grasping this explosive device.  Krevash began shouting for everyone to take cover as Lydia used her want to magically launch the device towards the far door.  Not privvy to this plan beforehand, Drugin lunged towards the now floating thing with his helmet, hoping to contain it, and Savina swatted at it with her spear, trying to score some point by whacking the thing into the helmet Durgin held up.  Katerina cursed Hans-O with a bit of fae magic, mostly out of instinct than anything else.  Nonimus and Leahcim decided it was best to get out of the room entirely, and walked out the door.

Boom. 

The list, which read like a simple recipe for a complex adventure, seemed to point the adventurers to all different points within Sigil.  The party brought the list back to the Ljubisav wing, trying to come to a decision where they were going to look for the errant theif, Reuel (well, he was certainly errant… the theif bit had yet to be proven).  After some time talking amongst each other, and a few of the other residents within the Ljubisav wing, they decided to simply go down the list, from the top.  At least for starters.

The first item on the list noted plainly "P1: City Court: Rat Skull".  Assuming P1 was just a listing number, and that the City Court was the same as the one within Sigil, it was assumed that a rat skull was the key.  Durgin, taking into account the general filth of some parts of Sir Horatio's Habitat, hunted down a particularly mean-looking rodent, clubbed it, and in an act that would surely upset any animal-lover (thankfully there appeared to be none present), set the thing aflame with a searing flame, summoned forth from some astral plane in the name of Bahamut.  What good is a dragon god, without the perks of being able to set things ablaze?  Searing the flesh off of this unfortunate long-tailed critter, Durgin pocketed the skull, and set forth to meet the others.

With a (warm) rat skull in their possession, the party set out to the City Court; Savina, a githiyanki warrior, who had just finished destroying yet another piece of furniture looking for her portal key, decided that her frustrations would likely be more useful outside of the habitat.  The other residents of the wing would agree, if not for the fear of being pummeled.  Nonimus Fodero, a halfling with ever-wide eyes, followed along with the group; however, they didn't notice this until they reached the steps of the City Court itself. 

Of course, they didn't expect to meet with such resistance – one would think that getting into Court would be a simple matter.  But with Harmonium guards and stuffy Fraternity of Order stiffs mucking up the steps, just strolling on in to the hallowed halls of the law seemed a daunting task all of a sudden.

Nonimus seemed familiar with this sort of situation; quickly, he came up with a plan to have Leahcim disguise himself as a lawyer, and the rest of the party act like some adventuring party.  Leahcim would proclaim that they were on business trying to dispute the name of a now-defunct adventuring guild, so that they could take the name.  After a short jaunt to the Hall of Records (and a small processing fee), they found the name of one such defunct adventuring party, the Lethal Hazards.  Despite the unfortunate name, they took it as a part of the act.  Lydia used a bit of her wizardry to clean off Leahcim's ash-ridden clothes, and they proceeded inside.  Aside from a breif question from a Harmonium watchguard, they were given no trouble.  Which was fine, as the party was more than capable of making trouble for themselves.

Not far within the halls of the Court, Leahcim and Lydia picked up the 'scent' of a portal.  Following the trail, they found what they were looking for – on the other end of an office in private session.  Leahcim and Nonimus cracked their respective knuckles, preparing for another lie-fest.  Soon thereafter, Leahcim strolled right into the office, without breaking a sweat.  When inquired what he was doing here, he simply stated "I need some papers from back there, don't mind me, I just~" and then vanished when he opened the door, the portal opening violently with his key in hand.  Before the portal slammed shut, the rest of the party ran through, papers and lawyers flying into the air as they went.

Through the portal, the party found themselves, in an instant, to be in a small, steel room, with steel cots, steel lo- well, everything was a polished, black steel, save for the soft figures laying atop the not-so-soft cots.  Upon examination they proved to be quite dead.  Looking at their twisted, blue faces, they appeared to have suffocated in some fashion.  Nonimus approached what appeared to be a notice of some sort, jutting out from the far wall.  Just as he reached it, the walls began to reverberate with a too-loud voice saying "ALL PRIVILAGES FOR THE BATHROOM FACILITIES HAVE BEEN REVOKED DUE TO RECENT ABUSE.  THIS BAN WILL BE LIFTED IN FIVE POINT FIVE HOURS OR UPON MISSION COMPLETION."  This caused confusion amongst the party, and the room soon reverberated with their own voices until Nonimus noted that the notice on the wall did, in fact say something about a mission. 

The notice was largely incomprehensible, but it did muse to the idea of mission something-or-other, some location to attend to for said mission, something about breifing, presumably also about the mission… nothing about what the mission pertained to, of course, but, at least it was something to go on.  The rest of the party turned to search the room for any other information; Lydia was way ahead of the crowd, and had already been wrist-deep in a number of the unfortunate occupant's footlockers.

They found outfits, presumably used to perform whatever job the dead were meant to perform.  Most of the party shunned them, but Leahcim eagerly jumped into the red jumpsuit.  Along with that, they found complicated devices, apparently serving the purpose of communication – or so the devices told them.  Lastly, they each found a utility belt, identification card and some kind of badge, for each of the breathless bodies in the room.  Everyone took a belt, an identification card and a badge, save for Krevash, who was being particularly paranoid about the whole situation. 

Scrubot Mark 1 Tactics
Scrubots Mark 1 aren't designed to fight, but, given a reason (or a command) to do so, they'll fly carelessly into the fray, flailing their arms and apologizing profusely while they do so.  When they have a cluster of viable targets near them, they'll flail wildly in hopes of impressing their masters.

Scrubot Series 3 Tactics
Scrubots Series 3 is only a slightly later model than the Scrubot Mark 1, with an in-built resevoir of cleaning solution, and slightly denser armor to protect said solution.  If forced into combat, the Scrubot Series 3 will attempt to blind a number of targets with its cleaning sprayer then dive into the poor schmucks, and flail wildly.

WarScrubber Tactics
The WarScrubber was designed to remove the toughest of stains, and does so by unleashing its aresenal as quickly as it can against whatever it finds to be unclean.  Sometimes cleanliness calls for a slug cone-rifle, for those baked on messes.