Episode 13: Red Moon Burning Report

General Summary

Prequel to The Enemy Within Episode 13 - “Red Moon Burning” 3/21/2020 Post-Game Notes   Day 15 (18th overall) - morning of Angestag, 2 Nachgeheim, 2512 IC   Stickybun was allowed to convalesce in the Inn overnight, and in the morning the Crew comes downstairs to shouts from Ilse in the kitchen. She’s chasing an annoying Stickybun out of her kitchen. Franz takes the opportunity to give the Crew a full tour of the RMI and provide some information on his preparations thus far:

• Ilse will be given a week off to visit her family in Geissbach. If and when she returns, she’ll have a job waiting for her at the Boatsman’s Guild. That’ll go for Johann and Hermione, if they want the jobs.
• Franz made a straw dummy of himself that he thought could man the bar on the night of the blowout. Maybe lure some enemies to the source of the explosion? The Crew is non-plussed and works on other ideas.
• And works…
• And works…

In the afternoon, they go shopping!

• At Nordlander’s and Fabio’s:
• Godabert: boiled leather breastplate and upgraded leather leggings
• Karl: upgraded leather jack, boiled leather breastplate, and knuckledusters
• Kris: leaves his leather jerkin with Fabio to be converted to add sleeves (jack knuckledusters
• Beau: heavy crossbow
• At Madame Beaumarteau’s (where one of her stockroom girls looks at them like she recognizes them)
• Karl: disguise kit
• On the Docks:
• Kris and Karl get matching heart anchor tattoos
• Godabert gets a name at the Crooked Hammer: Stephan Borg, lock-picking tutor
• Beau gets a chance at redemption and bangs the hell out of Charlotte at the Kat House

Day 16 (19th overall) - morning of Festag, 3 Nachgeheim, 2512 IC   Off to Cordelia’s to collect the enchanted bomb and assorted treats.

• One eight-part bomb, now covered in herbs and twigs and little talismans.
• 4 sachets of Cordelia’s Enhanced Restorative Tonic (recover 2x T, but then side-effect)
• 4 sachet of standard healing draught
• 1 sprig of faxtoryll
• 2 bundles of salwort

Then, a date with Sister Celestine at the Shallya Temple on the Marktplatz

• They tell their story, meditate in prayer for a while… Beau loses one corruption point… Sister Celestine informs them that they will be in a position to destroy something of great evil soon, which may cleanse them of some corruption.

Back to the RMI, where Kurlass Meingott is waiting for them. Informs the Crew that they need to be vigilant. Barlin’s crew hasn’t been apprehended, and, well, you know about dwarves and grudges. He’s thinking about skipping town. Crew tells him to fuck off and then they finish the night by getting hammered at the Crooked Hammer.   Day 17 (20th overall) - morning of Wellentag, 4 Nachgeheim, 2512 IC   Crew spends the day planning Franz’s birthday bash tomorrow:

• Cut hole in the back of Franz’s closet leading to the adjoining room (where Karl will be stationed
• Cut peephole in the door of Karl’s room
• Prep rope ties to secure doors against one another upstairs, all with the idea to lure any assailants into Franz’s bedroom before the explosion
• Set up the bomb in the pantry, off the kitchen, behind the bar and below Franz’s bedroom.
• Move an outhouse to the well yard outside the kitchen, then smear poop (Kris’s) on the handle so no one will use it tomorrow.

  Day 18 (21st overall) - morning of Aubentag, 5 Nachgeheim, 2512 IC - Happy Birthday Franz!   Closing time, and then shit goes down quickly:

• Karl disguises Franz as a woman (poorly) and disguises Beau as Franz (also poorly)
• Franz leaves with the last customers and disappears into the night.
• Godabert and Karl take their posts in the upstairs rooms
• Members of Carmello’s crew start breaking into the Inn near the front door
• The wraith starts to materialize fully in the taproom
• A loud trollslayer starts hacking at the kitchen door
• Upstairs, a couple Eshin assassins drop into Franz’s room from the chimney (“Dammit - the chimney” - Karl
• Godabert and Karl start running from the Skaven, screaming for a preemptive lighting of the bomb, meanwhile more Carmello thugs break into the upstairs hallway from the roof.
• Downstairs, more dwarves show up, this time sent by Silverbeard, trying to break into the kitchen through the windows.
• Karl lights the bomb!
• Beau whips open the kitchen door and engages with a surprised trollslayer.
• Kris throws his strong back into the breach and the burly dwarf tumbles to the ground. Uh oh -- there are lots of dwarves out here.
• God and Karl, running from the Skaven, run into the wraith, avoid the thugs, and make it to Johann’s room on the opposite end of the kitchen.
• Too many dwarves: Kris and Beau head back into the kitchen. Those other dwarves? They’re holding little bombs.
• The kitchen door explodes open, and the shimmering green wraith is in the doorframe.
• God and Karl jump out onto the dockside street, stealthily avoiding being spotted by other members of Carmello’s gang who are guarding the front door.
• Beau and Kris retreat as well. Kris sinks his grappling hook into the wooden table and yanks hard to block the doorway as they try to put distance between themselves and the dwarves and the undead monster.
• Beau, with a mighty heave, pulls Kris into Johann’s room just as one of the little grenades, tossed at Kris, bounces off the table-shield and over towards the storage room.
• One boom! Over by the kitchen hearth
• A second boom! Over by the storage room
• Beau makes it out the window, but he’s spotted. Assailants approach!
• A third BOOOOOOM! As the storage room explosive is ignited prematurely
• Kris must have had some gods (or something… similar) smiling (evilly) down on him, because he manages to just squeeze his ass out the window as the massive explosion and fireball erupts through the first floor of the Inn!

Interlude:   “Me? Oh, just a humble brandy merchant. I have… affiliations with the Boatsman’s Guild and, well, I can afford a private room here.” Karl uncorks a bottle of oak-aged Kemperbad brandy and fills his companion’s glass. “Besides, Karsten and I are quite close. I’m like a brother to him, and his establishment is always open to me.”   The girl smiles politely, fidgeting with her glass, but shyly avoids eye contact with Karl. She is dressed modestly in clothes befitting a merchant, or an artisan, but she seems far less matronly or mature than the other women who come into Rugger’s tavern looking for boat captains or oarsmen.   “But what about you? You’re not like any boatsman I’ve ever seen,” he chuckles. “It is unseasonably warm for Nachgeheim, isn’t it?” Karl loosens the ties of his tunic, opens his neckline a bit, and makes an exaggerated sweep of his hand through his long, thinning hair.   “Oh! Is that a tattoo?” The girl leans in a little closer.   “This old thing?” Karl opens his blouse up a bit more, and then lurches back in surprise as his chair is knocked sideways and a half-tankard of beer sloshes onto his chest.   “Apologies Karl! I should look where I’m going.” Beau smiles down villainously at his drenched cohort, nods politely at Karl’s companion, and continues sauntering over to the bar.   “Karsten, my good man! I seem to have spilled most of my drink. I am slightly encumbered you see.” Beau lays WIndu gently on the polished teak bar, and then drops his heavy crossbow alongside with a resounding thud. “Still haven’t named this stubborn bastard… heavy-ass Sigmardamned...”   Karsten chuckles and fills Beau’s tankard from the keg. “Ha! Have you even figured out how to use that thing yet, Beau?”   “Not yet, but that’s the beauty - I don’t have to! You’d be amazed at how much respect I get just brandishing this enormous hunk of wood. Finely hewn wood and glistening taut thews.” Beau borrows a rag from the across the bar and rubs down the stock of his crossbow.   “Are you talking about your penis again?” Kris leaps onto a neighboring stool and waves his hand at Johann down at the other end of the bar. “Johann my good man! It seems like a fine occasion to uncork that particular bottle of schnapps behind you! No no, not that one….” With a slow, deliberate flourish, Kris draws a beautiful sword from its scabbard and levels its shining curved blade steadily against his bent left elbow. The glint of Saif al’Janub’s golden hilt seems to catch all the lamplight in the taproom at once. “Thaaaat one. Yes. Wonderful.”   Beau leans slightly to his comrade and whispers, “You know -- today was supposed to be my day with the sword.”   “I still can’t believe Franz parted with that beauty.” Karsten shakes his head with a smile.   “The inn?” Beau takes a big gulp of beer.   “No, the sword.” Karsten continues as Kris slides Saif back into its scabbard. “Did you know that this sword was gifted to Franz after he helped protect Sudenberg against the undying invasion of 2498?”   “I think he might have missed one.” Beau mumbles into his tankard.   “What’s that? Anyway - the sword itself is said to have been crafted by the legendary philosopher-artisan Hataq al-Kundi in 1445! I’ll bet you could get... well, TEN times its value if you sold it to a collector in Araby.”   “But that would involve traveling to Araby. And the sword does look reeaaally good on my belt.” Kris swivels back and forth on his stool.   Karl steps up the bar. “Kris. Asshole.” Beau guffaws.   “Hey Karsten, listen…” The guildmaster takes the rag from Beau and hands it to Karl who immediately starts blotting his damp tunic. “You still have that vacant room with the double bed? The one with its own fireplace?”   “Aha! Having a little conversation with young Roberta Rossel, are you? You know, her father owns one of the biggest warehouses on the docks. Shame about his legs, but if there was ever a time for his daughter to step up and learn the family business…”   “Yeah, anyway.” Karl passes the rag back to Karsten. “I’m in negotiations to move several cases of brandy into storage with her family. Could be a very profitable enterprise.”   “You don’t actually have any brandy.” Beau intercepts the rag and goes back to polishing his stock. “Oh yeah, a little beer makes this thing sing.”   “I also don’t have my own fucking bed, so…” Karl spreads his hands out somewhat imploringly.   “Sure, sure. The couple from Bogenhafen left this morning, so…”   “Johann!” Karl flags down Johann before he enters the kitchen. “Need you to do me a big solid my friend. Take my clothes and things -- my GOOD clothes, mind you -- and move them into that big room at the end of the hall. And, you know… mess things up a bit so it looks like I’ve been there a while.”   “You want me to go take a poop in your chamber pot?”   “Thank you, Beau, but that won’t be necessary. One more bottle of brandy, if you please, Karsten, so I can seal the deal over here. No, not the expensive Bretonnian stuff. Some of my Kemperbad brandy, obviously.”   “You don’t actually have any brandy.” This time from Kris.   Johann, after acknowledgement from Karsten, heads upstairs to move Karl’s belongings around. Karl, for his part, grabs a new bottle and, with a wink and a nod, heads back to talk to Roberta.   “You know gents, speaking of money…” Karsten’s words are lost on Karl as he seats himself back at his table and refills Roberta’s glass.   “The fuck mentioned money?” Beau genuinely wants to know who the fuck made any mention of money.   Karsten continues. “You guys have been here a week since the Red Moon explosion, and the 20 gold coins that Franz left you has certainly allowed you to live like Kings of the Docks, but all good things, right?”   Kris, who had been leaning on his stool, back to the bar, rotates back around. “Oh no. Please stop talking about funds. Godabert.”   “What’s this about funds? Hello Karsten.” Godabert, hands on hips, smiles at the group at the bar.   “Pour you some schnapps, God?” Kris motions for another glass.   “Maybe not.” Godabert points a finger at the bottle. “That looks expensive. Just a glass of water for now, Karsten, if you’d be so kind. Now what’s going on with our funds? I know I, for one, feel like we’ve overstayed our welcome, so…”   “Whoa whoa whoa,” Beau and Kris in unison.   Godabert, unperturbed, asks, “How much is left?”   * * *   The taproom is relatively quiet by now, and Karsten himself has long since retired. The kitchen isn’t serving food any longer, except for one last batch for some of the Guild’s more distinguished guests. Hermione walks over to the Crew’s table carrying three trenchers of sausage, mashed turnips, and warm crusty bread. “I have a plate for Karl as well… is he coming down?”   “Sure, sure. Why don’t you bring his trencher over and I’ll save it for him?” Beau pushes away some empty glasses and makes more room on his side of the table for bonus sausage. “Also, maybe more beers? Godabert was just finishing his debrief.”   Godabert has just finished counting out his three gold, nineteen shilling, and twelve pennies, and distributing them into various hidden pockets of his deceptively crafty cloak. “It’s not like I want to leave you guys, I would just rather take my share of what’s left and, you know, live a little more frugally.”   “But that comfortable bed you’ve been sleeping in for the last eight days…” Kris is still confused.   “Exactly. Too comfortable. It doesn’t feel right. And with things having settled down, I’d like to get back to being among my people. I feel like this decadence is dimming my senses.”   “Decadent?” Beau sticks a thumb out at an old sailor at a neighboring table. “That guy just passed out and vomited on himself.”   “Barlin and most of his crew have been apprehended by the dwarven authorities. No one wants to speak to me about that map of the Dawihafen with the, you know... Skaven… markings.”   “It’s just as well. I’m in mood to deal with any more of those fucking things.” Beau smiles at Hermione as she drops off a second plate of food.   “And my discussions with Wahlund, the head of the Rat Catchers’ Guild haven’t profited either. Karl has informants who will tell us if Spaltman ever rolls back into town and, in the meantime, Gurkenfeld is keeping a very low profile. He hasn’t even run a performance at the theater in almost a week. Kris is settling in nicely with the guild, and he’s somehow been named captain of their dwile flonking team. Beau gets called on whenever someone or something needs smashed, and the matron of the Kat House even started compensating him for the added security. Things are really calm here now… and Stephan believes…”   “Remind me: who’s Stephan?” Kris tries to sneak a sausage from Karl’s plate.   “Stephan Borg. He’s the fence, er - merchant, that I met at the Hammer. The one who’s going to teach me to pick locks.” Godabert continues. “Anyway, Stephan warned me that being too comfortable might dull my perception. And he might be right. Ubersreik feels comfortable… this place certainly feels comfortable… Besides, I need to buy a set of lockpicking tools.”   “Oh shit. Look who it is.” Beau speaks with a mouthful of bread and sausage.   “Hey guys! Hermione saved me a plate in the kitchen? I might need another bottle of brandy. This girl is unstoppable. Godabert, you’re looking relaxed.” Karl, wearing one of his wigs and eye makeup in a raccoon mask, strides past his Crewmates and towards the kitchen.   “See! I don’t want to be relaxed. I need my edge.” Godabert pushes his mug of beer away from him. “I haven’t had a successful vision since we moved in here…”   Karl stumbles back to the table with a new bottle of brandy but no meat. “Oh shit. Look who it is.”   Framed in the dying firelight from the taproom’s main hearth is a giant bear of a man, clad in new leathers and steel breastplate. His arms are crossed against his massive chest and his hair, once tied back in a short ponytail, is now completely shaved off.   His luxurious beard remains, and in the middle of it Franz Lohner is sporting an ear-to-ear smile.   “Lads it’s so good to see you again!” Franz steps up to the table and claps hands on the shoulders of Godabert and Kris.   “What - what are you doing Franz?” Beau is the first to break the astonished silence. “What happened to faking your death?”   “Oh that was no good. I was spotted by members of Carmello’s gang within fifty yards of the Inn. That disguise was terrible.”   Karl smiles and shrugs.   “It was only three of them.” Franz continues. “The others must have broken into the building by that time. But the way I felt -- so alive! I could have taken on a dozen of those greasy garlic eaters! Not since I was a Grudgebringer had I experienced the thrill of combat like that.”   Godabert brings Franz a chair and the former mercenary captain sits down with the Crew.   “It wasn’t for me, lads. I see that now. Hiding? Running? Not Franz.” He accepts a beer from Hermione, who seems not at all surprised to see her former employer. “I’m rebuilding the Inn, my friends! There must always be a place like the Red Moon to serve noble adventurers such as yourselves.”   “Noble, not complacent adventurers, right Franz?” Godabert raises his mug in a toast.   “Personally I can go with a few more weeks of complacency.” Beau raises his mug as well.   “I’m sure something will happen to keep us on our toes.” Kris chimes in.   “Great to see you Franzie, but I’ve gotta run back upstairs.” Karl kisses Franz on his big bald head and runs upstairs, letting everyone pause a moment to consider the little fake tail taped to his ass.   * * *    

Rewards Granted

XP: Pulling off the explosion and successfully faking Franz’s death, while taking out some shitty Silverbeard thugs in the process: 75 Sweet Roll20 sesh: 35  

• Godabert: 110
• Beau: 110
• Karl: 110
• Kris: 110

  Loot:

• 20 GC (secured by Karsten Rugger at the Boatsman’s Guild)
• Saif Al-Janub

Weapon	Group	Worth	Enc.	Avail.	Reach	Damage	Qualities
Saif al’Janub	Basic	20 GC	1	Exotic	Medium	+SB+5	Defensive, Fine 4, Unbreakable

Character(s) interacted with

Locations scouted and new NPC’s engaged:   Shallya Temple (Marktplatz): Sister Celestine