"Going to Hell is easy. Coming back is hard." - Virgil

"The best way to keep a prisoner from escaping is to make sure he never knows he's in prison."

It quickly became clear to the heroes that their alliance with the bugbears would not last long after the extermination of their common enemy and the freeing of so many slaves. Basile brewed a compound to counter the effects of the ogre stench on the large company now boarding the Boulder to escape Yesyr. To pass the time on the voyage back to Bral, Khalid organized a boxing round robin to amuse the frightened slaves. It was a roaring success. On Bral, Janks and the ACLU helped to manage the freed slaves while the heroes went about looking to free one more person-their pilot--from a private clockwork prison, the Dalliance Day Camp. What they found was a clockwork goliath that was itself a doorway to the prison. Defeating the guards, they managed to stop the goliath by inserting a key provided by their informant. It was a puzzle box that they had to solve. Doing so transformed the goliath into a doorway to an extra-dimensional space. Inside they found a desk and another gateway in a barren office occupied by a pair of enslaved modron prison administrators. The heroes contrived to open the internal gateway and rescue Shilynn, deciding to free the modrons before making good their escape. Before returning to the Inordinate Amount, they stopped at a high class restaurant to save Edgar, their goblin Cookie, from his unlikely success as a celebrity chef.

With the Grizzled Wald utterly eliminated, it does not take long for tensions to begin to heighten with the Crimson Clan Bugbears

Your Bugbear allies of the moment agree to give you and the slaves passage back to the docks and hour to leave Yesyr. After that, they say they will not longer guarantee your safety, not least from them.

They suffered serious casualties during the attack, but they are eyeing the surviving ogres with respect. For your part, three members of the Boulder’s crew perished in the assault, and four more were seriously wounded, including Barbell’rella, Gurunk’s wife. He carried her back to the ship himself.

The Crimson Clan want you to leave. You get the impression that the Grizzled Wald’s stable of slaves is worth a dear price. It’s clear that they want you to leave before word of slaves being freed by adventurers from Bral spreads throughout the markets.

The sign in front of the location Slyneak has given to you read “Tin Smith”. However, unlike most of the other trades on this street, it is shuttered.

The tinsmith’s shop is crammed with broken pots and pans, from the floor to the ceiling. The forge is cold and the room is dark. A break in the piles of kitchenware reveals a spiral staircase leading to a basement.

Bits of light shine through narrow barred windows near the ceiling, at street level outside. The basement is deeper than you might think and you quickly ascertain that it must run under most of the houses on this block.

There is a faint whirring and clicking sound echoing through the area. From what you can see, it is mostly empty, but it’s filled with deep shadowy corners.

Three clockwork soldiers stand guard in front of a wall of gears humming and clicking away in a rube-goldberg sort of way around a large central door which itself covered with tumblers and gears, gauges and springs. There is a vaguely familiar looking key slot at the centre of the gear-covered door.

• “Halt, identify yourself!”

• One of the Soldiers will activate the Clockwork Golem during an attack.

• When it dies, the golem explodes and slumps back into wall form, with its central door hanging open.

• During the attack, if the heroes produce the key, they can remove the golem from the battlefield.

• You recognize the slot in the golem’s chestplate as matching the folding puzzle box that you carry:

• CLUE – Each of you PLAYERS would find the folded puzzle familiar - if not for having once folded such a puzzle yourself (almost certainly in your childhood) then for playing with one or seeing one that someone else had folded.

There is a square room with a desk at its centre and a circular portal behind the desk. On the desk, there is a large dial and a button. Sitting at the desk is a sphere of riveted brass with spindly spider-like mechanical arms that end in long fine fingers. At the centre of the sphere is a juxtaposed a single biological eye and mouth. 

Another identical sphere stands smiling next to the portal behind the desk. In the corner, a third anthropomorphized geometric shape – this one a square, with two eyes and a mouth, apparently on each of its four sides – stands with a clip board frantically writing down notes.

The sphere at the desk smiles and says:

• “Good afternoon! Do you have your identification key to access a particular cell?”

Closer inspection: Each Modron has a large bolt that seems to have pierced its brass skin stuck in the back of its head. There is a small copper antennae sticking out of the end of the bolt.

Monondrone: A monodrone appears as a sphere with two spider-like arms and two spider-like legs. A single eye and mouth are located in the middle of the sphere.

Quadrone - A quadrone appears as a cube with two spider-like legs and four spider-like arms. It has a set of eyes and a mouth on each of its sides.

Monondrone A1: (process identification key) “Welcome to Dalliance Day Camp. Do you have a guest with a reservation or an access key?”

Monondrone A2: (take things to the guest quarters) “Do you have something you need me to take somewhere?”

Quadrone QB18 (Cubey Ay-deen): “I’m their supervisor.”

Edgar was probably the easiest for Goodboy to find. As it turns out, since his arrival he has been the feature chef at one of Bral’s most exclusive eateries, The Oyster Pudding Bar.

How is it the lizardfolk maître d’ has a Gallantish accent? Did they ship him in special from Sentar?

“I’m sorry. Do you have a reservation?”

Patrons

• There is a beholder in the far corner, he is levitating a bucket of something with a disturbing consistency into his mouth. Whatever’s in the bucket seems to be moaning.

• There are three illithid at one of the central tables.

• The rest is the typical Bralean mix of Moreau folk, and maybe a few more dwarves than usual… and better behaved than you’ve come to expect.

• There are no Ylfe here

Edgar comes out of the kitchen, waves his spoon, screams at the customers in Goblin (“I don’t wash my hands!”) and laughs maniacally. He receives a standing ovation, pulls down his pants and dangles his goblin junk at the crowd. Yup. It’s Edgar.

The meal being served on the finest China smells familiar. Frighteningly so. It’s amazing how a few days of decent food can make you forget field meals.

APPROACHING EDGAR: “About time you showed up! Get me the hell out of here. These people are crazy!”

LEAVING: He takes off his apron throws it in the firepit jumps up on a counter undoes his pants again and pisses in the remoulade. The sous-chefs applaud. One of them can barely contain his emotion, “Pure genius!”

We’d managed to get everyone back on board the Boulder, but just barely. It was plain to see that our bugbear “allies” were a gujamellon seed away from turning on us and trying to take whatever they could. The raw emotion and tension from the battle, the march to freedom for the slaves, the loss of shipmates (and otherwise mates) from the crew, the powerful, raunchy and gross stench of the ogres and its effect on, well, everyone. It was a situation that could have gone badly, badly wrong.

Two things really helped. Basile managed to brew up something that mixed slowly with the air, and somehow lessened the wallop of the ogre stench. And Khalid, down but not out, decided to put the tense energy of the ship into good use. Made everyone feel better, have a few good laughs and cheers, and feel connected. I tried to hide my surprise and worry when Khalid suddenly announced in front of everyone that he and me would be boxing. I don’t know if that had me off my game, or what, but damn that Winedark gunman if he didn’t give me everything I could handle. With one good arm! Had me on the ropes a couple of times. He moved so well in our quickly set up ring, it honestly left me bug eyed and a big ol’ target for his next punch. And he landed some doozies. Like at the very beginning of the fight, he’d come in low, under a lazy jab I’d thought would keep him away, and landed a good shot into my guts. I was mad, and I tried to land a haymaker… Nope. He juked the opposite way, and then landed a wicked cross into the side of my jaw. Still makes this clicking sound whenever I eat [LOL, I have a Click-Familiar of my own! It lives in my neck. - DM]. Which makes me smile.

Well, it wasn’t just me that was impressed. The whole ship went nuts, cheering, wanting to hug us, wanting to box us. Some nice leadership from Khalid there. Got everyone on board feeling connected, and into something more fun and “up.” The boxing rolled out over the next couple of days, keeping people focused on something good, something fun. It was just what we needed. Khalid seemed to soak it all up at the start there, seemed like he was right as rain, but then, just when the attention was off us for a second, he whispered in my ear “you’re in command.” And he slipped off below decks. He slept for 2 days straight. He needed it.

We landed on Brahl, made contact with the ACLU to see if they could help with the freed slaves. Janks herself showed up, and I could tell she was impressed despite herself, and even started to soften up a bit towards us. I pledged my share of our treasure to help the ACLU settle the freed slaves. We offered Carmy the chance to stay with us, and he accepted. That felt right, and I gotta say… I felt pretty emotional about the whole thing. I don’t totally know what it was. Having been a slave myself? The wretched condition of the slaves and their bounce back? The toughness and the cost of the fight to get them? The chance to do something that felt just good and right? (Don’t get a lot of that) But there were tears.

We healed up, cleaned up (well. I don’t know if I’ll ever get that ogre stench out of my nose), and headed to free Shilyyn from Daliance Daycamp, the prison she had been put into. We arrived at the Tinsmith shop we’d been tipped off was the entrance to the prison, broke in, and headed down the stairs of the shop to a long underground tunnel. Must have gone underneath a block's worth of buildings, and at the end were three clockworks.

I’ll give Khalid and Basile credit. They really tried to avoid a fight. They tried to reason with the clockwork guards that they could get the stolen key from us (what they wanted), and we could get our pilot back (what we wanted). Maybe it almost worked?

It didn’t. The clockworks started reaching for their weapons, Khalid darted off to my right and let loose a wicked lightning bolt from a wand, the light charging through the guards and leaving a smell of overheated metal in the air. Unfortunately, before any of us could really close with the guards, one of them stepped back, and summoned a giant clockwork from the wall behind them. Three times my size? Wielding a hammer as big as me? I closed with the damned thing and tried to play defence to keep it off my mates. This thing hit like a charging bull, and I don’t think we could have beat it straight up, but Basile noticed that it had an slot in it’s “chest” that matched the key we’d gotten from Slyneak and so we gambled that if we could get that key into that slot, we might be able to turn this damned monster “off” or whatever.

Scariest moment came when Basile tried to do just that. He’d turned himself invisible somehow, and was trying to get close to the giant when it became painfully obvious that the monster could see him just fine. Two hammer blows shook the ground, and must have missed Basile by less than a whisker, as I sensed his shape just barely twisting out of the way to my left. “Give me the key!” I yelled, and put out my left hand. Basile pressed the key into my hand, and just then, the rear clockwork that had called this monster into being closed with me. His first shot glanced off my breastplate, but his second blow missed and his halberd jammed into the ground to my right. I ran up the shaft of the halberd, planted my left foot into the crook of his neck, and used that to leap up and at the goliath clockwork that had come so near to ending my pack leader. My aim was true, and I slotted the key into the creature’s chest. Whirs, clicks, smoke, and quickly the monster changed back into the pillars it had been… but I hadn’t really thought that far along. With nothing to grab hold of, I started to fall awkwardly, when I felt the saving grace of Hazel’s gods reach out to me, and somehow my left hand managed to grab just enough of a piece of the pillars that I righted myself and landed okay.

We went through the doorway the clockworks were guarding and more weirdness awaited. These very odd looking creatures were in the next room. “Gonads,” I think Basile called them? Made up of pure shapes - circles, triangles - and marksmen-focused on certain jobs and words. When we presented the key to them, they did their jobs and brought out poor Shilyn, as they were supposed to do. But Basile noticed that there were these weird rods poking out of their “heads,” and he figured that these were being used to control these strange creatures. We figured out a way to cut the ends of these rods off, breaking the control of the clockworks, and freeing them. But the gonads were confused, and latched onto Khalid as their “Pentanad” or some such thing. (And our little band just got a little weirder)

We had Shilyn back. I was straight up with her - apologized that it took us so long to get her back. I think she was a little pissed that freeing her wasn’t job one, but I wanted to be straight with her from the get go. She said it had been horrible. I guess I hadn’t expected to hear anything different. But after a bit she seemed to soften again, and seemed really happy to be freed and I hoped she’d return to the ship - the ship that used to be her, really - with us. A big part of our crew, and, honestly, more than that to me. Shilyn’s wrapped up in the whole history of this sphere, Magluon. Part of the Ylfen war to kill off all goblinkind, and paid a heavy price for it - having her brain forced into a ship. Freed by a goblin, Luckums, and a key part of a mostly goblin crew. I had this hope that somehow Shilyn’s story was maybe a part of the next chapter of this sphere, the spheres, too? Maybe a part of a healing? Maybe that’s all a little too artsy fartsy, but anyway. I hoped.

Oh, and one last thing. We rounded up Edgar, The last of the missing goblin crew? For now? He’d made a new home for himself at a high end and crazy expensive kitchen in the rich part of town where he was the star chef. On the Amount, he’d been the “chef” behind many a night of churning stomachs and bowels. It had happened out among the stars. So I guess it kinda fit? It was still bizarro to say the least - stew “drinks.” stew starters. Oh, and also - stew. Or “stoooo!” And the place packed with this odd group of snobby rich customers lapping it all up and shouting about Edgar’s “genius.” Um, okay. Anyways, Edgar seemed only too happy to come back with us, and nobody gave us any guff as he pissed into a bowl of his “stooo!” and we all headed out the front door. 

We had our cook back. Yay? Next stop was a trip to see Jennifer/Hooper Meadowtop, but that’s a story for another day.

Excerpt from the War Diary of Lefty Khalid (Days 206-213) [As written by Basile based on dictation from the Rhaakhec] 

Freeday Menteweek Korda - Day 206

We made our way back to Yesir’s docks as the ogres honoured their fallen loudly and proudly.  The Squad was able to funnel the slaves into the ogre ship and tried to calm them with words, healing and food.  Anticipating the stench of the ship, Basile and Shroktath went into the market with full urgency to get alchemy components without trouble.

After our new charges were settled in and the ship launched toward Brahl, Shroktath worked hard get a subtle reputation improved for Basile and the stories began circulating among the slaves and ogres;  his reputation would grow.  Anticipating the inevitable chaotic brawling of the ogre crew, I organized a boxing tourney as per the sail ships on the Wine Dark Sea of old.  I wanted to dispel rumours that the loss of my hand meant I could not command.  I started the tourney by challenging Shroktath to the first match.  A little gnome we had freed even started the commentary as we fought:

“In the red corner, we have the Lightning Slinger Khalid.  A whipcord youth with an incredible black ponytail and fantastic wrappings that impresses even this gnome.  Fast as lightning and who seems a bit lighter today than yesterday.  And in the blue corner we have Crushing Orc Shroktath:  look at those tattoos on those bulging muscles!  Alright, let’s start this this off with a civil handshake.

DING DING.  And they are off!  That Slinger can dance, brother.  He is landing blows on that mountain of an Orc like a carpenter hammering nails.  Ohh, how did that giant Slinger get inside the Crusher’s guard to do that uppercut?  DING DING.  That was a fast three minutes, folks!

DING DING And they are off!  The Crusher is circling like a shark and landing a few ones.  Not good ones; it looks like the Orc is picking flowers.  He should be able to knock that boy over like house of cards.

DING DING  Third Round!  The Slinger is still landing blows but it looks like he is slowing down, a bit tired I think.  Ohhh.  What a great shot to the throat Khalid landed on his throat.  That stump is good for something after all.  Wow, I think Shroktath is smarting from that one… and he is off and running.  He is battering that boy like a rain storm now.

DING DING  Fourth and final round, everyone!  These two are going at it like cats in a cage.  The Slinger has found some speed in the last minute and has slipped out of the trap.  It is a chase now folks with the Crusher landing some good blows.

DING DING DING DING!  Alright, alright folks that was quite the fight and your excitement, I know you agree.  OK, OK.  I have the decision from the judges in my hand.  Bring it in gentlemen.  That was a great fight and the judges thought it was really close.

But the winner isssss…….Shroktath the Crusher!!!!”

I hugged Shroktath at the end of the fight and told him he was in charge as I would be sleeping for the rest of the journey.  As I slowly drifted off to sleep, I was thankful that Shroktath pulled his punches for the first two rounds and that I deserved the beating he gave me in the end.  It was worth it…

Sularday Claireweek Korda - Day 212 

We returned to Brahl without any trouble.  I groggily made it topside as the freed slaves left the shift.  Basile had quickly got off the ship ahead of the chaos and had the ACLU prepared for the disembarkment.  I watched it all with some detachment and made lists in my mind about our next steps.  I was refreshed in my spirit when I saw some lechy about to herded into harm or slavery by local thugs when a human survivor took them under his wing and moved them towards an ACLU handler.

The Inordinate Amount still lay where it had crashed during our escape.  Nonetheless, it was comforting to return.  The brief sight of Captain was calming before we got another confused briefing from Coleman.  Happily, we seemed to have a complete crew less Edgar.  We settled into our ship's rooms and rested for the night.

Selunday Umberweek - Day 213

The next day, using the clue key we had, we went to Tinsnips to find Shilynn.  The exterior door lock was easy for Basile to pick.  Inside however we searched the ground floor fruitlessly and went into the basement.  We came upon three clockwork guards in front of a sturdy wall with a key slot.  They challenged us until we showed them the key.  They postured to attack us, and I stopped them by arguing that we were supposed to have it.  They would not accept the truce and resumed their attack.  The clockworks created another construct that included the door lock.  As they began to fall, Shroktath got through their defences, and with cat-like grace, put the key inside the construct.  The last of the clockworks fought tenaciously but we overcame them.  They attacked first, they refused parley and truce and attacked again:  their deaths would not be on our conscious.  From their wreckage, I believe I might be able to solve my problems with some time.

We entered the prison to find a desk.  On it were three spears:  anthropomorphic bureaucrats who were mixtures of flesh and machine.  Behind them there were living machines of pure order trapped by some foul cabling.  They were named modrons, rumoured and hinted at in many books in our library.  We were able to disconnect their mechanical traps.  Afterwards, Basile and I convinced them to join our company.  They took me on as their Tetrarch and they would be in my hierarchy.  We were able to free Shilynn and reactivate her.  

Our victory was complete, our shipmate was returned and our wounds were healed.  We went immediately to the Oyster Pudding Bar.  We found our celebrity chef Edgar who was filthy and dissatisfied and unstoppably popular.  He begged us to take him back.  The others left directly for the Inordinate Amount but I grabbed an autographed menu; it would be an interesting addition to our ship’s library.    

I set my mind towards getting our crew ready to find Hooper Jennifer Meadowtop.