Erastus 24, morning

  Warm sunlight streamed into the windows of workshop 7, bnketing the long tables in gentle orange. A faint tapping filled the room, as a single goblin crafted a water barrel by hand.

  Stern liked to come down to the workshop early, in the first light of dawn. He liked crowds as much as the next goblin, but he also enjoyed finishing a project from time to time. He’d fetched his tools from the supply closet in a semiconscious daze, wishing that there was some kind of potion to help him achieve wakefulness early.

  “I hope he doesn’t notice us. Rowe is so worn out, she could certainly benefit from a few more hours of rest.”

  Stern sat up in his chair, looking around the workshop. The voice had been strange; light and airy, without any of the grit of a goblin voice. Sounded like a halfling, maybe. Or a pointy ear longshanks, and it sure as hell sounded interesting.

  Stern wasn’t hunting, personally. He had one wife and that was all he needed. Hell, he’d been clever enough that he hadn’t even needed to hunt Keel. She’d come to him, and they’d made quite a few pups since then. That was the real problem; less than half the boys had managed to lock down mates.

  He wasn’t going to show favoritism, but if he happened to hear that Sayl’s favorite daughter might be sleeping in this workroom, telling his own boys first would be the fatherly thing to do. Most of them could still walk, and more than half of them had bulletproof codpieces made since yesterday. If they could corner her? Stern might be looking at more grandkids.

  “Oh dear!” The voice said, practically shouting from the supply cabinet. “We need to make our escape quickly! He intends to raise the arm!”

  He then heard, just barely, indistinct words. Stern had good hearing due to his enormous ears, and he thought it might be the same voice. He had no clue why she would start whispering after he already knew her location, but he could tell he had less time than he thought. He hopped up and held the cabinet closed with his bare hands.

  “Oi! Rayl, bring the shotgun!” He yelled, hoping that his son would hear him in the next room over. “Rowe’s in here, and she has help!”

  ??????????

  The Amulet of the Open Book

  A cursed amulet, created in a botched attempt to make an Amulet of Thoughts. It has all the abilities of an Amulet of Thoughts, allowing for the wearer to use Detect Thoughts at will. However, when using this ability it will create a two-way connection, broadcasting the user’s thoughts back to the target. The amulet contains a recording of the user’s mind going back a few hours, so as to ensure that the user’s most incriminating recent thoughts are the ones shared. Even if made aware of this drawback, the user must make a will save once per hour, or else forget about it.

  ??????????

  It was around dawn when Melku finished the keyboard, and I’ll admit it wasn’t what I was expecting. The basic size and shape fit my design, but he carved every individual piece out of polished bones. He had an entire storage closet bigger than my cabin stuffed with very simir bones, as if he’d killed off an entire popution of some rge nd based predator. The neighboring storage room full of bck pelts did nothing to dispel this impression. (Perception 14+2=16)

  Between Keep Watch and my Body Control talent, I only needed 6 hours of light duty. I was careful to cast Keep Watch after Melku’s work was well underway. He guessed it would take him around six to ten hours, but if my spell reached completion before he was done I’d need another eight hours of rest to level up.

  Hold on Rowe. We should have everything we need at a few hours short of dawn.

  I had the pleasure of seeing a master craftsman work through the wee hours of the morning, including the secret to his success: the paintings weren’t just guard dogs. As far as I could tell, the majority of them were trained in some specific aspect of his work. Five of those schoolgirls from the hallway outside his room took their knives and promptly started carving runes into a set of femurs, then carefully breaking off disks containing the relevant runes.

  He’s spreading out the cost by putting in more work. Hiring a hundred people to each do specialty detail work would cost hundreds of gold pieces on its own. I don’t think other people follow the same rule I have where they have to spend 1000 gp exactly, but that’s probably typical for an efficient setup. He’s made a factory out of entities that obey him completely. Seems like a good gig, if you can get it.

  The keyboard, made from polished and stained bones, worked fwlessly after an hour or so of tuning. It sounded too much like tribal drums initially, but Melku fixed that up easily enough. I ran through the major and minor scales and then a few bars of Closing Time; it all sounded right. I closed my eyes, and I was back in my recording studio for a moment.

  “Good.” I said, quietly. “This is good. Really great. Thanks.”

  “It was pretty easy.” He said, shrugging his small blue shoulders. “Really overpriced for a piano, honestly. I guess you won’t need to tune it as often.”

  “It’s worth it for me.” I admitted. “Personal reasons, and it’s waterproof. You can get back to bed if you’d like. My team is moving in to run security, we will get the guy for you before we leave.”

  No more dawdling. Though first, I need to be sure this actually qualifies. I can’t imagine it wouldn’t, but that would suck big ol’ donkey balls if we did all this just for my personal gratification.

  Random Encounter: Artisanal Craftsmanship - Complete

  The reclusive artificer Melku lives in Goatshead; you might as well check in with him while you’re here. Commission and receive an item from him, whether by force, falsehood, or finance.

  Reward: 2 exp, Scroll of Inverted Reactions

  Jackpot.

  I completed the mission, received exp, and my entire team leveled up to 5 with the press of a button. The scroll, a small affair made out of some kind of fancy paper I couldn’t identify (Vellum, you rube) was another of those special items that I could only identify by checking the SRD. It didn’t even glow with a magic aura.

  Scroll of Inverted Reactions

  For 24 hours after using this scroll, all people will have their Disposition towards you reversed. Unfriendly and Hated will become Friendly and Helpful, and vice versa. This includes temporary changes, for example if someone was temporarily at a lower disposition due to anger, they would instead be very pleased. Those with a neutral disposition will be rgely unaffected. All other aspects of your retionship, including chain of command and the effects of sway, will remain the same, but colored by the newly negative or positive tone of the retionship. After 24 hours, the effects of this scroll will revert, though any changes in disposition will be preserved.

  Well that’s a whole can of worms. Making anyone who hates me into my best friend for 24 hours sounds great and all, but I don’t particurly want to make my whole crew hate my guts for that long. This isn’t an item I’m going to be using lightly.

  I set aside sorting through everyone’s character sheets for the moment. It was useful information, but I had a job to do and a pn for how to do it. I confirmed that I had the Invisibility spell, gathered up my tools, and checked on Rowe and Dierdre.

  Oh good, Rowe got a full night’s sleep. Not leveled up, but her Tech charges are mostly refilled. I guess Dierdre kept watch while she- oh no.

  Dierdre was still listed as a follower, but when I opened her character sheet? It was bnk.

  ??????????

  In retrospect, it wasn’t terribly wise to use her st firebomb on the workshop. There weren’t all that many people there, and Rowe did have a shotgun. That would have probably been enough to intimidate most goblins for at least a moment. The fire also drew down attention, and now even the guards who already had mates were after Rowe. On the other hand, Stern and his boys had been very, very distracted. That had been enough to get outside, for the moment.

  It was fairly easy to rush through crowds when Deerdah shrank anyone in the way to the size of a Lydia Longshanks doll. Rowe enjoyed punting Bulk; he was such an ass and he went flying almost ten feet. She decided to buy Deerdah a drink ter, and maybe learn the muscley halfling girl’s name.

  Dahk’s Longshot MKIII sang, and Rowe winced, then looked around in confusion. Her uncle missed his mark? That hardly ever happened. Rowe looked down, and still had both legs fully intact. There was some blood sptter, but it wasn’t her own.

  Did Uncle take interest? Did he knock out one of the suitors? No, I already shot Rahk’s dick off and Uncle doesn’t hate anyone else that much. Wait. Where’s Deerdah?

  ??????????

  After a quick conference with my team, I left Melku’s home with a pair of earrings in my pocket. I considered a ton of complex pns to get my whole team onsite safely, mostly by sweet talking the guards, but all of them had a single, crippling weakness: they required me to be seen at some point. What I settled on was elegant in its simplicity, and wouldn’t put any members of my crew in a compromising position. I walked in the front door calmly, quietly, and invisibly. (Cast 2nd level spell: Invisibility) I nearly tripped over one of their ugly hounds while trying to slip past the blockade, putting far too much faith in my magic. It began barking and snarling immediately. (Stealth 2+11+20=33 (13 vs scent))

  I booked it, and to my immense relief the goblins focused more on calming the dog than figuring out what upset it. They were on high alert, but didn’t realize an invisible sorcerer was in their midst.

  It is a dog, after all. Maybe it just barks at nothing all the time. How common is invisibility in this world, anyway? 2nd circle doesn’t seem like it would be all that rare. I’d better move quickly regardless.

  “Hey,” I said, to a pair of goblin women doing undry, affecting a raspy squeak, “Any clue where Rowe is?”

  Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look up.

  “Find her yourself,” one of them answered without looking up, “I’ve got 12 gold banking on her sting another day.”

  “Might be on the roof.” The other answered. “She’s tried that a couple times, I think she might have a secure route.” (Diplomacy: Gather Information 18+9=27)

  The chatty goblin’s companion spped her on the back of the head.

  “What!” She cried, “you’re not the only one in the pool.”

  “That's cheating!”

  I retreated before they asked any pertinent questions, like who was asking. Levitation made it fairly easy to leap up onto the roof, where I didn’t find anyone at a gnce.

  “Rowe?” I whispered, “are you up here?”

  She didn’t appear to be, which meant this pn was somewhat shot. With that said, I was in a central location with low foot traffic. Even better, it was one that Rowe was rumored to have access to.

  I might be able to signal her. So, how do I let Rowe know where to find me? Hmm. Think like Rowe… the btantly obvious is impenetrable, but math and trajectories are obvious. It’s worth a shot.

  I stood in a patch of tall grass near the center of the grounds, and summoned Dancing Lights. I pced the bright violet sparks in a goblin sized, vaguely humanoid shape at the utter limit of my range, near the gates. Keeping them at my range, I had the little goblin figure leap in a great arc onto the wall, all the way across the complex. I repeated the process, causing the figure to move along the circumference of a sphere, up down and to the sides.

  If she traces the arc, she might be able to figure out where I am based on the center of the implied circle. Even if she doesn’t, she knows what my dancing lights look like, and she will know I’m here to pick her up.

  I winced at the crack of gunfire beneath my feet, far too many shots for them to only be from Rowe. A few minutes ter, Rowe hauled herself up a ttice of ivy onto the roof. She only bothered to look around for me after spiking an alchemist fire onto the roof behind her.

  “Captain, you here?” She said, her voice strained with panic, “Signal very on nose. No time for games.”

  Shit. No time indeed.

  “Don’t worry, I’m here.” I assured her, “next to the chimney.”

  Combat has begun. Initiative rolled.

  I heard a chopping sound, not unlike a helicopter, on the grounds beneath me.

  Oh come on.

  Rowe ran over to me, and when I took her hand she clung tight.

  “Pn?” She asked, moments before vanishing by my hand. (Cast Invisibility)

  “Take these and put them in.” I told her firmly, pushing Sosima’s earrings into her hand. “Can’t have anyone recognizing you outside. Did you see what happened to Dierdre?”

  “Dead.” Rowe said, sighing. “Uncle didn’t like.”

  I didn’t have time to mourn; the fmes creeped from roof tile to roof tile as I watched. I had thirty seconds at the most before the fires reached us, and after that only a few minutes of invisibility. I didn’t want to risk charging past the front gates with Rowe; the dogs might know her scent. Levitation had dropped off while I waited for Rowe.

  “Cooperate.” I ordered Rowe, and called forth my shadow.

  The dark clone of me snatched the goblin up, spun, and unched her out over the outer wall. I clicked my fingers, cushioning her against the ravages of gravity. I could not see where she nded, but I trusted her to make her way out with the advantage of invisibility. Of course, I still needed to get down off the roof, and I was fresh out of spells designed for that purpose.

  Eh… how far is this drop?

  About 50 feet, I’d say.

  I did a bit of mental math, cast Infernal Healing upon myself, and leapt down, briefly catching myself on a clothesline midway through the fall. I rexed my body and spun into a roll, distributing the impact across my whole body. (Shadow Boxing: Dance substitutes for Acrobatics to arrest falling momentum. 13+12=25)

  Took fall damage: 3 nonlethal, 4 lethal.

  Hell yeah. We’ve come far from the crow’s nest. This’ll heal up in just a minute with Infernal Healing.

  As I leapt, a goblin in a tiny pedal operated aircraft rose above the lip of the roof. He opened fire upon the shadow, firing blobs of rapidly expanding foam. It seemed almost an afterthought that he was putting out the fire.

  “You can’t take her!” He howled, “She’s mine! Mine!”

  I would have liked to leave immediately, but we had really kicked a beehive. The front gates were closed and locked. In the time it took for an adequate opening to appear, my spell psed and I was unable to repce it. I was almost certainly seen leaving the grounds. Hopefully I wasn’t identified.

  It was all worth it, however, because near Walleye’s Rum Room I was able to meet up with a friend. A halfling girl with short, shaggy bck hair and a manic grin.

  https://postimg.cc/GHFx1B3R

  When I approached, she was talking to a goblin guard out on the street.

  “I swear you look familiar.” He said, squinting. “What’s your name?”

  “My name is Dave.” Rowe answered, speaking with a slow, measured cadence, “Dave Longshanks is the sound used to refer to me, also called a name. I like fermented goat juice that has become solid.”

  “That does sound like a Halfling… except the name.” The guard said, scratching at his chin. “Who ever heard of a Halfling named Longshanks?”

  “My father, who is a farmer and that I’m very proud of, was very tall.” Rowe expined in her monolingual tourist voice, “it’s a family name, so I include it after my personal name. I will violently beat anyone who says bad things about my family so you should stop talking about my name now.”

  “Ahh, yes.” The guard said, nodding sagely, “sounds about right.”

  “Come on… Dave.” I called. “We have work to do.”

  “I enjoyed engaging in small talk with you.” Rowe said. “I have a more than seventy year projected lifespan, so I enjoy wasting it on random chatter with nosy strangers.”