"Think of three things: Whence you came, Where you are going, And to whom you must account."

- Benjamin Franklin

“And he read 'Principles of Accounting' all morning, but just to make it interesting, he put lots of dragons in it.”

- Terry Pratchett

"Accounting is the universal language."

- Brahlean Proverb

“While you’re here with us, mysteries will be solved. Curiosity will be satisfied. Accounts will be Balanced!”

- Crumnubbins Willybits

After months of travel, the Inordinate Amount docks on the Rock of Bral. Things do not get easier. Before they arrived, the heroes learned more details about Carmy Belhain and his surviving kin from their daily scrying. Doing so, they had increased their hopes of finding a clue to determining his whereabouts. At the docks, they learn that their reputation has preceded them and their likely arrival has long been expected. Not entirely in a good way. First, they are surprised to find three liens on their ship - from the Illithids, the Neogi and the Compact of Steam & Steel - that they will have to address before they will be allowed to depart. Then, they walk out of the Customs Building and into a Bugbear bounty hunter ambush, intending to bring them back into bondage under the Neogi Dynastic. They quickly dispatch this threat, frighten the locals who were placing bets on the likelihood of their success, and send a stern warning to the neogi. Through much of this, Bral's strange system of governance and great diversity of races is slowly revealed to them. At combat's end, they have their first interaction with the Actuaries - the beings who act as the referees that hold Bral together. When they finally leave the docks, they encounter representatives from a much different group - the Alternative Citizenry Lending Union (ACLU). Although there is no such thing as hospitality on Bral, a gnome and hobbit representative of the ACLU show the heroes a much gentler side of how the people of the city can go about finding a use for one another. They learn that the ACLU protects and advances the interests of the smallfolk as well as those races with small populations. The group wants to associate with the heroes as a means of burnishing its credentials as champions of the little guys.

Thaliose is a charming guest. Too charming. No one eats Edgar's food with that much gusto. No. One. If you weren't all so suspicious of him, it would be very easy to forget that he was anything but a curious and well-meaning privateer. Maybe he is. Why do you want to believe that? Did he put something in the ship's water supply to make you want to believe that...?

After he's gone, you check your gold pouches. And the rest of the ship for signs of anything he might have left. You ask yourselves, how much did we tell him? And hearing Shroktath and the goblins overshare, you wonder at whether you should have a cover story.

You were careful to avoid telling him about Hooper Meadowtop (whom he does not mention) and Shilynn's true origins. Given how disconcerting you found how much he knew about you, the Inordinate Amount and even Jennifer, it's oddly reassuring to know he didn't seem to know everything.

He was especially interested in the following:

• How you got off Sentar?

• How you took the Inordinate Amount?

• How exactly did you make it through the Grinder?

• Where do you think Jennifer is now?

• Who is your sponsor? (on Bral) - On this, he was a little taken aback when you asked him to be your sponsor. This might have been the first time that you saw him off guard.

As he departed, you couldn't help but wonder: What exactly did he get out of that?

Since departng Green Downes, scrying Carmy and staying in touch with the youngster becomes a daily habit...

A few word on Green Downs, with which you have been somewhat preoccupied. You reflect on what you saw there and realize the following:

• the asteroid was unusually lush and verdant. It’s notable, because it does not entirely jive with what you’ve seen. Environments vary, but a lot of them seem a lot like Fishhead or on their way to becoming like Fishhead, mostly from overuse you imagine. So, for an asteroid that was not entirely off the beaten path to look the way it did seems unusual.

• All the farming records had been taken. There were also bookshelves, but they’d been emptied of books as well, because the knick-knacks had been left behind

• There was a room that, judging from the stains in the wood, looked like it had been a laboratory of some sort… but as with the bookshelves, everything had been taken

As for Carmy himself, you learn:

• Carmy is an Ibixian (Goatfolk): You get a better look at him. He has horizontal pupils and a split lip down from his nose. Tiny horn buds protrude from his lightly furred forehead

• His father was Troan “Ton” Bellhain, his mother was Halena Televor

• His younger sister (Deela) and cousin (Quinny) are with him.

• His uncle was Vonn Televor. His wife was Londa (Carmy can't remember his Aunt's last name)

• They cultivated and hosted Leshy Colonies – a type of fey that helps to make asteroids inhabitable, and can be invited to improve air quality on larger spelljammers.

• The bad guys took all the leshy. The leshy are nice. They are fun. Mr. Boodlebop likes them.

• The bad guys are always arguing about whether to keep Carmy and his kin and sell them, or to kill them and jettison their bodies n Wildspace. At first, this scared Carmy a lot, but, but they have only kept him in his cage, so he thinks they will sell them

• Carmy thinks some of the Leshy are dying - they do not do well in captivity.

LESHY

[Placeholder: 4 images, leshy]

On the final approach towards Bral, Shilynn provides some last bits of advice and shares some of her own plans.

"If you’re going to have trouble anywhere, it’s going to be the docks. No thanks to Skitterix. Still, chances of a bounty hunter seeing your slave tattoos are slim.

"I will go first. Thaliose's question about sponsorship shook the tree a bit and got me thinking. I can use one of my old sponsorship codes from my Ylfen Navy days. Any damage attributed to the goblins will be balanced from accounts belonging to the Ylfen Armada, masked through a series of shell groups.

"It's an old pilot’s trick to avoid trouble for damage until we’re gone, and more likely than not, dead. It should take days or weeks for the Imperiyon’s own accountants to figure out what I’ve done.

"After that, I’m going to visit a few old haunts. There’s uh, something I need to take care of. I also want to try to figure out what the Imperiyon has in mind for you. After Ft. Kerium, the Battle of Algail Asteroid and Orcneas… I can’t imagine they’ve been idle."

Everyone gets paid. Shroktath gets promoted. Coalman gets a longsword. A plan for shore leave. A celebration meal.

Shortly before your arrival at the docks, a small clockwork insect with a big voice approaches the Inordinate Amount – “Approaching vessel. Prepare to submit to an Air audit, Ordinance 37 F-6.”

The device barely halts before entering the Amount’s air bubble. It hovers for a moment before it begins orbiting your spelljammer’s gravity plane. After two passes, its large luminous eyes turn Yellow. “Your air is STALE you will be charged an additional 50 GOLD PIECES to enter Bral-Space.” After a moment, a different voice comes through the clockwork. “Inordinate Amount, proceed to docking platform Under-Niner for processing by the Border Service Union. Registration of all crew members mandatory. Welcome to the Rock.”

[Placeholder: image, map of Brahl's docks]

A series of precarious looking wooden and bamboo walkways link the cabled, floating dock where The Inordinate Amount is moored to the Rock of Bral. Wildspace twists away forever in every direction except for that entirely occupied by the looming escarpment of the Rock itself. Spelljammers of every size and shape imaginable are docked or waiting to be docked, unloading or loading cargo or waiting to do the same.

One appears to be a giant bubble of water with beings swimming inside. Another looks like a galleon made of stone and is crewed entirely by ogres. Others is identical to the giant clockwork you fought at the Battle of Algail, and there is more than one other Nautiloid. A lot more, actually. How many mindflayers are walking around this city? There are also many vessels that are clearly of Ylfen origin. You can tell because they are so damn streamline and aesthetically pleasing.

Some quick calculations make it clear that the transit of goods and resources at this one dock suggests that spelljammers are transiting far more goods than would be required to keep the Rock very well fed. It would appear that the Rock of Bral doesn’t just consume, but it is also a critical logistics hub.

An elderly one-legged lizardfolk dock manager takes your fees and assigns you your docking certificate (50 gp +5 gp per day). He looks over your ship and snorts, “So that’s the infamous Inordinate Amount, eh boyo? Hrnh.” He shakes his head and walks away. It’s clear he’s disappointed.

The papers he’s given you indicate that all of the Goblins will have to be registered at the Customs House and issued special “Potential Threat” badges that must be worn at all times (they look like a bright red circle around an “X”), even if they plan on staying on board the ship. Those who visit the city are restricted to activity in the Low City, Topside and must make a daily appearance at the Office of Potential Threats in the Functionaries District. This all appears part of an ordinance last updated over fifty years ago… during the Nyn’Ylfen Wars.

He points you in the direction of the Border Services Union Customs and Registration Outpost.

The docks are nearly 100 feet below the Low City, and cargo must be either carried up winding ramps or hoisted from the docking caverns by means of cargo lifts. The entire area is bustling with all manner of creatures of every possible moral alignment. As you walk through the district, as expected, you attract a lot of attention. In many places, everything stops entirely, and people openly stare. Mostly out of curiosity.

Bral must be cosmopolitan in a way the Federation could only imagine. Why is that? The dearth of humans? Unified in the hatred of the Elves? But there seem to be so many Elves. There are Dwarves, Gnomes, as many Half-Elves as Humans (that is to say, not a lot), but few (if any) Hobbits. Most people appear to be anthropomorphs – dog, cat, bird, lizard, draconic, insectoid, bovine, aquatic, plant and elemental – all variations of four-limbed (and sometimes six-limbed centaurian) people. And also, there are tentacled and multi- and unusually-limbed aberrations of a bewildering variety. My gods, that beholder is massive! Which way is that ooze even looking? 

• The few humans you see are mostly dark-skinned like the Meroeille (MARE-o-way) people of Sentar (African cultures). Like everyone else, some of them stare; others pay you no mind.

The docking area is built out from a series of natural caverns, widened and smooth-floored for use as cargo-handling areas. Inside, they can only accommodate the smallest of vessels. Small spelldasher tugs move barges and pallets around. The caverns are far more important as an area in which to unload ships and store cargo while lift service is arranged.

The caverns also have a small business district where cargoes are traded right on the docks and vendors sell ale and food to the many sailors and longshoreman there.

They also feature a set of cargo lifts that pass through shafts in the Rock to Topside. The lifts are simple wooden platforms that ride on vertical tracks, lifted by stout cables on either side of a massive system of pipes. Each lift apparently emerges in one of the warehouses along the Docking Edge on Topside. The customs house sits between the cargo lifts in front of the pipes. Members of the Border Services Union – mostly birds and insects here – openly take payments from some and wave them on their away, while directing others to the Customs House.

You are directed to the Custom House.

A Tengu Officer of the Customs Guild confirms what the old Lizardman dockwarden told you. She takes your payment, arranges for any cargo you want to disembark, and advises you that…

• Shilynn has arranged sponsorship (there are dozens of posters advertising sponsorship services by various outfits. The cheaper they are, the more dubious they seem. Some of them seem pretty dubious)

• “You still have to register. Ain’t nobody getting on or off of Bral without the Border Services knowing about it.”

Besides name, race ship and intended length of stay, all they really want to know whether anyone is possessed or carrying an additional personage inside themselves that would consume additional oxygen. Entrance to Bral costs an additional 10 gp per crew member plus 2 gp per day of your intended visit.

When that is all done, she informs you that there are three registered liens on the Inordinate Amount… and that you’ll have to hire an actual Actuary to demonstrate to the Border Services Union that you’ve Balanced Accounts before you will be allowed to depart. The Tengu makes a whistling sound… “That’s a lot of flash, boyo. Heh. To cover that, you might want to try to get a piece of the action on what some of the bookies are making off the rumours about you lot… heh.”

1. The Neogi Debt Council: 1,000,000 gp (value of ship, slaves, cargo, our wounded dignity)

2. The Illithid Collective: 50,000 gp (The cost of the incomplete mission and items stolen by the Neogi Skitterix)

3. The Compact of Steam & Steel: 350,000 gp (The value of the Void Stalker)

Your ship is now officially impounded. To lift the impound order, you’ll have to go either to each of these three organization’s representatives in the city, hire someone to do so (SHE SAYS: “My cousin is an Advocate… very good rates…”)

Impounded – what does this mean?

• You will not be permitted to stay on board the Inordinate Amount (unless you put up 10,000 gp bond against bolting)

• You will be allowed to re-board once more to collect your required effects, under supervision no more than 3 at a time (50 gp administrative fee)

Once you’ve finally made it through customs, you are psychologically and emotionally exhausted. While you waited, the goblins were literally hopping from one leg to another with excitement. You are impressed. They must be dying inside for all the restraint they are showing.

Another Tengu on the raised pedestal coordinating the crowded office glances at them, then back at you, clearly fascinated. “They aren’t, uh, dangerous are they?” he clacks in Wildspace Cant. “All I’ve ever heard is how destructive they are...” He stares for a moment more… “Aside form their teeth, they don’t look like they could be that much of a menace. Are these ones children?”

[Placeholder: image, game battlemap]

You step out of the customs building into a…

• FIREBALL! 

• …a clutch of waiting bugbears. All of them are armed.

• You hear a magically amplified message, “That was a warning. Youse guys is all Neogi property. Youse gots no cause to leave the Twixt. Youse all'er going back to a Dynastic slave warehouse where youse can be processed and redistributed. Stand down and prepare to be shackled.”

• PERCEPTION, the Fireball came from a Bugbear sorceress standing atop a pile of packing crates, about 3 m up. A bearded Neogi with a colourful apron is standing next to her, looking smug, even without its umber hulk.

• There are also a number of other people of various races who have come to watch.

• …and to bet on your progress

Three grey-robed figures with pastel-shaded cowls hiding their faces (one in beige, and two in baby blue) observed the entire combat. Officers from the Border Service Union - muscled dogs, bears and orc-like creatures - clustered around the figures trying to get a glimpse at what they were writing on their clipboards. A few of the latter exchanged money between them from time to time, usually when a Bugbear went down or one of your goblins managed a particularly hilarious or violent attack.

When it’s all over, you are approached by a mature bugbear holding his belt under his pot belly and sucking at the toothpick between his teeth as though he just finished a particularly sinewy meal. Everything about this guy screams “cop.” He had been arguing with one of the robed figures, but shut up when he was handed a piece of paper. As he saunters towards you, the rest of his officers move swiftly against your assailants with what appears to be other Bugbears in tow. These bugbears throw you a stink eye and begin the removal of their dead and wounded.

He hands you the formal looking note prepared by the robed figures. It has your sponsorship code (arranged by Shilynn) at the top, the name of your ship, and the amount you earned for this fight at the expense of “the Big Bugbear Bounty Huunters Jamboree” (3BHuJ : THREE-BEE-HUGE). It’s free passage through the Twixt – 3BHuJ will not be bothering you again. And, there’s a coupon for one free enforcement package.

While you’re looking it over, he looks down at the goblins. He watches his Bugbears being hauled away. He looks back at you. He sighs. “Hard to find good help.” He nods silently, as if agreeing to himself, "Yup." Takes a toothpick out of his teeth…

“How much fer yer gerblins?”

He tosses you a bag of 500 gp. Hits his chest with the side of an open hand and chops directly outward. “We’re balanced,” he growls.

Welcome to Bral.

"Glad I stayed at the elevator."

- Basile

Gurunk stops short, sending the Shannons scrambling to stay on his back. A polearm clatters to the ground with an expletive. His entire body is rigid. His head is tipped upward. His nostrils flare and puff. He hits the ground twice with his fists. He seems to want to do something but cannot decide. “Gurunk, no!” Shannon One says form the ground in a low voice, retrieving her polearm. “Steady…” Shannon Two admonishes quietly from her perch on his back. He looks confused for a moment, before he bugles his name at the sky and gallops off, back in the direction of the docks. Shannon Two is literally holding on with one hand with her feet flailing for purchase behind him.

After a merry chase, Gurunk stops in front of a massive galleon-shaped spelljammer fashioned from stone bricks cemented together. Ogre males hoist and carry massive loads from the docks to the ship under the watchful eyes of female officers. It looks like they are carrying rocks onto the ship, and others are then carrying what appear to be the same rocks off. They are getting their rocks off. Gurunk stops, almost whines, and roars on the dock, striking his chest bellowing his name.

Shannon Two is watching, keeping a bit of distance. When you approach. She does not turn around. “He’s rutting.” She sighs. “He hasn’t seen a female in months. We’re lucky he didn’t try to take any of us,” she looks at you with serious eyes, to make it clear she is not joking. Shannon One has caught up and melts at the sight, “Awww, the little guy’s in love.” When you look over at Gurunk pawing at the ground and whining, you cannot help but think, not so little.

While Gurunk and the other males begin wrestling and jockeying for a new hierarchy, the Captain (clearly the brains of the operation, though only just) introduces her self as Su-sandbag. Her first mate is Barbell-rella. The males are Blarg, Grut, Trug, and Grund. She asks if Gurunk is your slave or whether he owes you money. They are just coming ashore.

Satisfied with your answers, she welcomes him to spend as much time with her crew as he likes and asks whether he makes good babies?

"Fifty-fifty whether we get him back."

- Shroktath

When the cargo lift finally reaches topside, outside the warehouse in which you were deposited two diminutive women make eye contact and smile. Amidst the noise, the smell, and the crowds, it’s easy to focus on a pair of smiling faces.

It appears they have been waiting. Crumnubbins Willybits is a mature Gnome with yellow-dappled purple skin, pink hair, buck teeth, and goggle-bottle eye glasses. She is all energy and a cascade of words. Janks Treller, her counterpart, is a middle-aged Sentarean Hobbit, with short salt and pepper hair in a losse bun, a three piece tweed suit and an ascott. She is as laconic as her companion is loquacious.  

Crumnubbins speaks with a whistle on her “s’s” - “Ooo dear, I’d rather hoped that you might be able to avoid any excitement at the docks… I’m afraid that’s not always possible. We were unable to leverage our accounts to get down there to intervene on your behalf… Oh, bad Crumnubbins! I knew we should have camped out! It was just so difficult to secure the votes to, oh never mind… where are my manners…?” She sticks out her hand, “On behalf of the Alternate Citizenry Lenders Union (ACLU), we’d like to welcome you to the Rock of Bral.”

“We once counted Goblinkin in our ranks! Welcome! Welcome! I still have the scorch marks!” She literally snorts. (She shakes hands vigorously with all the goblin crew members).

“We’d like to take you out for refreshments… a small private reception… dinner? Drinks?”

“Ladles O’Lumpy Oatmeal” – It’s a littlefolk tavern. A private meeting room with longshank head space has been set aside for you. You haven’t eaten this well since Algail. A thick wooden board is groaning under heaps of savoury, pastry-encrusted Hobbit dishes, tureens of steaming gravies, frosty kegs of Dwarven ale, and some noble efforts to recreate goblin fare.

Edgar lifts the lid off a pot and the room suddenly smells overwhelming of rotting socks… He closes it with a tear in his eye, “Just like Mudder used to make.”

Until he puts the lid back on, there are also tears in your eyes.

CRUMNUBBINS does most of the talking…

OPENING:

• “We tried to reach the Border Services Union but Multisphere Heritage Products blocked us, digging up that old antigoblin Ordinance that was still on the books… whatever you did out there, you certainly scared the Imperiyon! We haven’t seen them take a non-economic interest in Bral for a generation. You must have so many questions??” 

GOBLIN ORDINANCE

• The Ordinance keeps any member of the Board of Directors or its associate Unions from sponsoring goblinkind. The Balance of Account penalties for doing so are quite severe. We did find an unaffiliated Fire, Flood & Gravity Insurance Collective willing to sponsor your crew, but those darned Ylfe thwarted our efforts to access the docks before you got here at every turn.

• This may come as a bit of a surprise, but the politics here can get a little testytumble! Two other ACLU welcoming groups started belaying the Flanks (the sheer sides of the Rock) to reach the docks from the outside… uh, someone should probably let them know before the scavvers get them…

• We’ve been authorized to let you know the existence of an equally old “Letters of Passage” that allow for exemptions to these ordinances throughout the Rock, including the Twixt and all other transitional spaces – they were originally drafted so that Illithids could keep a complement of goblins on their vessels as snacks, without having constantly to register them… They actually bear the Twelvemark of the Imperial Ylven Counsel…

ACLU

• The ACLU is a sort of credit union and advocacy group for small folk! For the races that don’t have large enough populations - or who just aren't large enough - to assert their prerogatives on their own. Strength in numbers! That's what we're all about.  Standing up the little guy! Literally!

WHY ACLU INTEREST? 

• You’re right, “There’s no such thing as hospitality on the Rock of Bral.” You are the smart ones. I’ll let Janks explain…

JANKS has barely spoken 5 words this entire time... 

However, she is attentive, methodical and deliberate. Watching everything. Listening to everything. She takes a long pull on a pint of ale, puts it down, draws forth a pipe, fills it with tobacco offers it, and prepares one more to share before preparing her own. She takes her time to light them… pulls on hers. Relaxes, and exhales...

• • • 
      

• “Crumnubbins is here to make you feel welcome. I’m here to take your measure.”

• There are other interests on the Board of Directors who trust us to determine why you’ve attracted so much attention. I have my thoughts.

• I’m also trying to determine whether its safe to offer you initiation.

• Associating with you clearly presents certain risks. But being associated with you would also carry a lot of potential benefits. That is to say – you balance your own accounts.

• You've pissed off the Imperiyon, and that’s no small thing. Politically, it could really serve our purposes. It would solidify our anti-Imperiyon credentials on the Board with those who care about such things. There would be a cost, of course, but the Imperiyon has never been inclined to look favourably on the ACLU anyway… so you can’t lose what you don’t have.

• The bottom line is, we are not going to protect the weak and the vulnerable by hiding in the corner. When we show them that we stand with the weakest, and the most vulnerable… (she looks at the goblins, half of whom are beating each other up and the other half being asleep under the table, cuddled up with piles of food), they know we stand with them… and that is no small thing.

• She came to Wildspace during her Yondering days, having accidentally found herself on one of the last Meroeille (MARE-o-way) spelljammers to leave Sentar, about two Hobbit generations ago (80 years). They now guard the way back again. 

• So, those are all my cards. Well,  most of my cards.​​​​

The heroes ask what the ACLU would want in exchange for accepting initiation...

• Janks smiles and reminds them she hasn't offered them initiation yet.

• There would be a few missions to complete, "Honest graverobbers being hard to come by..."  and one of the first would be to find those waivers.

CRUMNUBBINS easily picks up where she left off, as if Janks were not even in the room...

RUMOURS

• There is tremendous interest in your visit to the Rock. The possibility of your visit has been expected for some time. Goodness, you’ve certainly got everyone excited. You are one of the most interesting entertainments to have befallen the Rock in some time! Especially you, my friends. No one has seen a goblin here in ever so long.

  • News about a gunfight on Fishhead.

  • A battle with a Compact Void Stalker

  • That you were guests of Havelock!

  • Illithids on the Approach – how did you get past them? Did The Brinkmanship help?

KOBOLDS SUDDEN ARRIVAL: Three arguing Kobolds enter, two wearing goggles, and climbing harnesses, a third, (presumably kobold) is wrapped in a rat’s nest of coiled rope and is barely able to walk. “There’s Team One!”). “Scavver swallowed Greeko. Ima have a bite to eat before I go back and get him.”

CARMY BELHAIN & THE LESHYS

• There's no slave market on the Rock of Bral. Too much trouble.

• However, there is one on an asteroid in this sector that has limited ability to move around and  sometimes follows Bral at a distance through this sector. It's called Yesyr

• Yesyr is an oblong planetoid – looks like a peanut

• It keeps changing hands. No stability. Hard to make any money. But if you want to offload a bunch of slaves. You’d sell them there.

• Leshy can be cultivated in colonies and have to voluntarily join a group. People who try to force the sale are often disappointed, as they usually die in captivity. A leshy has to be convinced to help you

• Yesyr is maybe It’s maybe 2 weeks travel from here.

HOOPER MEADOWTOP

• Wasn't he the Hobbit owner of a little vanity bookshop? Yeah, pretty sure he died off-Rock recently, and had his body shipped back for burial. Can't remember the name of the shop. Most of the stock was probably auctioned off to other booksellers.

• His burial was rather a big to-do. Talk of the town for a couple days.

• If he could afford a burial on Bral after having his body shipped back from gods know where, I imagine he was rather more than just a bookseller.

• A ghoul named Rivas Reynaso is our contact with the Undertaker's Guild, which is itself part of the Border Services Union. Both are eminently bribeable.  Information is a commodity. It's hard to tell what Rivas used to be when he was alive… however, he should be able to help you find out more about Meadowtop's death 

• At the party's request, Janks and Crumnubbins promise not to disclose anything about their interest in Carmy or Hooper Meadowtop to anyone else - Janks says: "We can balance that account."

​​​​ TWO FLEETS

• Both the Imperiyon and the Psurlon Supremacy are sending large fleets through the Grinder, on an intercept course with us even now. The Psurlon have sworn to destroy the Rock and everything on it. The Imperyon are more polite, but the sentiment’s the same.

• Throw in a dozen Neogi Dynasties and the Illithid Collective along with every pirate, rogue and fortune hunter in the six spheres… and woohoo! We have a party!

  • •  

• This is not the first time the Psurlon have sworn to scour all life off the surface of Bral and stuff the Middledark with the dead. The Imperiyon either, for that matter. They’re an inconvenience at worst, and even then, they’re still an opportunity. Especially after a trip through the Grinder. Resupply and repair is the second biggest business on Bral! *SNORT.* Janks actually smiles.

• Of course you can expect to be followed while you are here! This is Bral. Spying on one another is practically the National Sport. If we stopped getting into one another’s business, half the city’s economic output would collapse.

GOODBOY

• We’ve hired a reliable tout to help you get around. Goodboy is very loyal to his customers. Very discreet. (A dog centaur – a Caninetaur)

• Have you heard the saying, “There’s not ten honest men on Bral?” Well, Goodboy is two of them.

Rock of Brahl on Selunday Eoweek Korda 49th Annum Independencia - Day 199

We approached Brahl and were amazed by its size and grandeur.  Since learning of his plight, Luckums has been daily scrying the boy, Carmy Bellhain.  She was able to deduce Carmy was on a spelljammer with his sister but we could not glean any more specifics.  As we made our landing approach, we held crew parade and fest.  I used it as an opportunity to promote Shroktath to Platoon Sergeant to acknowledge his leadership as the senior soldier among our crew.  I also awarded Coalman the long sword we had captured at the Battle of Algail and powered it will magic in preparation for our next and inevitable battle.  Finally, given Alexsis’s as our crew medic during the Battle of the Patch, I awarded her the Ring of Sacred Mistletoe.  I used the parade as an opportunity to prepare the goblins for shore leave on Brahl but that was its typical frustration.  I did also provide a week’s pay and weapons from our armoury to Rolager and Tredag.  I offered them positions in our crew but even if they chose freedom, they would need money and protection if they were to have a chance.  The dockyards were immensely cosmopolitan beyond even the things I had seen in Riot’s Gate before the Fall.  Shilynn provided a cover for our ship using an old Imperium shell account as our sponsor.  We were able to register the goblins as “dangerous” but we had other problems.  The surprise was that three liens on the Inordinate Amount, debt debris from Skitterix’s failed deals and other nonsense.  

[Placeholder: image, lizardman]

We walked out of the Customs Office, Luckums gains some temporal insight and case a resilient sphere against an assailant wizard before he hit us with a fireball.  Suddenly we were surrounded by a dozen bugbears looking to capture us.  I had an insight about this asteroid of intrigue and dirty dealing.  I yelled a challenge at the wizard but did not shoot him to sow dissent and doubt.  Skroktath’s laugh of distain reinforced it but Luckums fireball from the bugbear wizard’s location sealed the deception.  As the bugbears fell to our attack, many of them believed it and began to flee.  All of our crew was here and it was hard for me to command the chaos.  I was sure that one of them would die.  It was crushing but I pressed the attack both personally and with our crew.  As I was trying to keep our lines in some kind of order I was overwhelmed by my fear:  all I could hear was the rattle of chains.  I started singing the Paen of the Legion to drown it out, was joined by Lewis the Skald and then all the goblins.  At one point, I think Veronica (DM: It was Bronywn) was on my back howling out the song at the bugbears while the rest of them crowded around me.  It was a better rendition of that song than I had ever heard from the dwarves and gnomes of the 57th. (DM: the Goblins' rendition was much more risque and involved a greater variety of bodily fluids) I saw Luckums take a serious wound and feared at any moment one of my crew was going to die.  I wanted nothing but to run from that square but could not while they held me in place.

[Placeholder, image, burly orc with two scimitars]

After our victory, I tried to reform the crew in case of a counter-attack. However, a grizzled bugbear walked toward us, some sort of police, and handed me a paper and a pouch.  The paper was a writ, giving us free passage through the Twixt (DM: That is, the place between the Rock of Bral proper and your spelljammer - in effect, the docks). The pouch, I estimated to be worth 500 gold.  We turned the Neogi Luckums had captured, Flexinorous, over to the Actuaries to start to settle our liens.  

Suddenly, Gurunk started turning around and sniffing the air. He took over at a run towards the docks with the Shannon’s and Shroktath in hot pursuit.  Soon after, they returned and reported that Gurunk had found a galleon full of ogres and was rutting with their females. Shroktath had made some arrangement with the captain of the Boulder that in my exhaustion I barely understood.  

After the bugbear left, we were approached by a gnome and a Halfling from the Alternate Citizens Lenders Union (ACLU).  They took us to the Ladles O'Lumpy Oatmeal tavern to discuss opportunities and share information.  It was a peaceful and enjoyable meal filled with information and intent.  I could barely stay awake from the after effects of my battle fatigue.  Just before I shuffled off to a bed We decided we would join this group to seek exemptions for our goblins, clear our liens and learn the circumstances behind the apparent death of Hooper Meadowtop.

[Placeholder, image, goblin alchemist throwing firebombs]

For some reason I was thinking we were going to get onto the Rock of Brahl without a fight. 

Yeah, stupid. I know.

We all had to leave the ship to clear the Rock’s borders. All kinds of questions - blah, blah, blah. Turns out that there was not one but THREE claims on our ship for “damages” done. The Neyogi, Illithids and Compact all had a claim far beyond the value of our poor but great little Amount. Every single claim was a fucking joke, but even I was smart enough to figure out that this wasn’t where and when we were going to straighten that mess out, so I bit my lip and answered their dumb questions (No, I don’t have a second being living inside me. No, I only breathe a normal amount of air…). 

So, here’s another thing about the Rock - within a few seconds I was blown away by the crazy number of different types of beings living here. I mean dumb-country-peasant’s-first-time-in-Riot’s-Gate kind of blown away. You probably could’ve picked my jaw up off the floor. Insect-creatures, dog-like creatures, ratfolk,... The type of critters I’m used to - humans, dwarves, and the like - a small part of the whole, and humans a smaller part yet of that. Crazy. Our customs agent was some sort of bird creature, kept gawking at us with one eye or the other, cawing at us. Freaky and yet I also kinda wanted to burst out laughing. Didn’t think that would go over so well. Besides, I could hardly keep focused on our bird guy (girl?) with all the crazy different beings strolling around. 

Which is what I blame for being caught with my pants down as we left the docks. Thank the gods Luckums had her wits about her. I still don’t know exactly what happened, how she knew it, or what she did honestly. It was quite something. We basically walked straight into an ambush. The first few of us leave the Customs House, eyes still adjusting to the change in lighting, and I heard Luckums moving and whispering something magical behind me. All of a sudden, I see a bright flash of fiery light contained in a very small space on top of a building to my right, and then, in the same space just after, a slightly burnt and angry looking bugbear in wizard’s robes looking down at us. There’s a Neyogi up top close to her and surrounding us in a half circle closing off the exit to the Customs House, a group of bugbear warriors. 

One of the bugbears speaks up and tells us to surrender and prepare to be taken as prisoners. I couldn’t help myself - these dumb assholes seriously thought that we were going to be taken into slavery without a fight? They thought they were going to win a fight with us when we told them to fuck off? I’d seen my mates pull off some amazing shit in the last year - from the takeover of the Amount, to the Battle of Abigail, to destroying two Illithid Nautiloids with barely a scratch. These fuckers should be surrendering to our mercy. I let out a snort that quickly turned into a laugh. 

As the bugbears closed in, Khalid did something so smart. He pointed up at the bugbear wizard, and angrily said, “What!?! The fix is in. I thought you were on our side?” This seemed to puzzle and pause a couple of the bugbears.

I noticed my laugh seemed to be pissing off a couple of the buggies, which made me happy, and I kept laughing only louder. Come on, buggies! I could see them zeroing in on me, which was what I wanted. I could feel the drool spilling down my chin. 

Long story short - we kicked ass. In less than a minute, the street was strewn with the burnt and bloodied bodies of a dozen or so buggies, with a wounded but defiant Luckums flying over top of the whole scene and right over the only survivor from their side - the Neeyogi she had imprisoned in some sort of magical shell. You could feel the fear coming off that fucker. Ha! Luckums, flies just over this asshole and tells him straight - you go back to your buddies and tell them that any “debt” the Neyogi claim we owe is to be wiped clean, or we’d give them something serious to make a claim about. I felt so damned proud to be part of this crew I could’ve burst.

A weird group of robed figures, faces hidden come over, and start talking with Khalid. These must’ve been the Adjustor’s we’d been hearing and reading about? The practically reeked of quill pusher. Apparently, the way this place works is that the Neyogi group that had paid the bugbear group to take us in or down, now owes us for the attack. The buggies - Big Bugbear Bounty Hunters Jamboree - did too. The accounts needed to be balanced, and that’s what they were there to do. Such a strange place. 

Then, as Khalid is settling things out with these weird Adjustor guys, and another group of buggies (the Watch of the Rock?) (DM: To be clear, they were the leaders of the Big Bugbear Bounty Hunters Jamboree) comes to clean up the mess of the first group of buggies, Garunk goes ape-shit crazy. He pounds on the ground, screaming his name, sending the Shannons flying, and then runs off in the direction of the Amount. I book it after him along with the Shannons.

What Garunk smelled was a ship called “the Boulder” chock full of Ogres. Female ogres included and especially. Well, damn. Let’s just say that Garunk was excited. One more thing I didn’t really need or want to see in Wildspace. The Shannons say their goodbyes, I plop a small sack of gold into Garunk’s hands, and tell him to have a good time. He hugs me - don’t know if my back will ever be the same - and we get back to the group.

Turns out we do have a potential sponsor on the Rock - a group called “the Alternative Citizenry Lenders Union,” or ACLU. They’re part of the Board of Directors of the Rock - the organization that runs this huge floating city - so I guess they’re a fairly big deal. They invite us over to the Ladles of Lumpy Oatmeal tavern. Given the name, I wasn’t expecting much but holy shit was I glad to be wrong. What a spread they had set out for us, including a mess of goblin food, and even some gujamellon! It’s been a couple of years since I had gujamellon. Our crew’s loving it, and then the halfling female from the ACLU, Janks Treller, offers around some pipes and sits us down for a talk. The ACLU stands up for the little guy, sounded like to me. Beings that don’t have the strength to stand up for themselves in this dog-eat-dog place. They see some advantages to having a can-do group with our reputation on their team, she says. Plus the Imperyon has a hate on for us, and sound's like that makes the ACLU look at us kindly. In return, Treller offers the help of the ACLU with some of the accounts/mess that we’re in (however idiotically) on the Rock. I don’t exactly have the best feel for these kinds of things, but it kind of felt like skipping the dating and heading straight to marriage to me. I could tell the rest of our group also seemed a bit unsure of what to do. I mean, these guys had been really generous with us, and they seemed friendly. Treller in particular seemed really calm, smart, wise. I liked her straight off. 

We all decided to sleep on it, but I had to get something off my chest first. During the fight, Khalid had been amazing - shouting out commands, blasting buggies with his boom stick, leading the squad in a song that fired us up - that is until he wasn’t. He was just to my right, and at some point in the battle he’d started to shake so bad he couldn’t even load properly anymore. It was like twisting an icy blade in my side - my mates, Khalid and Basile, needed help. Damned if I was going to ignore it.

I managed to catch Basile before he turned in. I wanted to let him know I was worried, that our group would want to help if we could. I wanted to suggest that we try to get some help from a local temple. Could it hurt? Basile seemed unsure. He said that Hazel was offering him some guidance through this whole thing… but then why did Basile seem even more like a shadow of himself as time went on? I hope that I hadn’t done more harm than good, that at least it was good for Basile to know that his friends were paying attention to his troubles and ready and willing to help.

No dice with Khalid though. By the time I caught up with him, he’d passed out on a grand chair on the main floor of the inn, a glass of brandy tipping from his grasp and dribbling down his tunic as the goblins drew dicks on his head. I shook my head, smiled and waited for the dicks to be drawn and the goblins to move on with their night/morning. As gently as I could, I put the glass to the side, picked up the L.T., and brought him up to a bed on the 2nd floor. 

Normally, it’s lights out whenever I decide I want some zs, and even sometimes when I don’t. But not this night.