Game Recap

Story Recap: Imprint by Design

Good morning! It’s Jonathan here with a STORY RECAP for the November 2022 event, IMPRINT BY DESIGN ®. The goal of these Story Recap posts is to help fill in the blanks for those that might have missed an important mod, been at NPC camp, sleeping, or simply were not able to attend the game. These are major points of continuity that might be important throughout the season, and I hope this will help with the FOMO feels or answer some questions you had about what happened.

Photo credits in this post are from Max Pohlmeier, Lainey Weiss, Francine Ilac, Crystal Louise Remy, and Noah Goodman.

This was our second ST Overarc of the season, led by the very talented Brett Pittman. This was a smaller, more intimate event coming off the gargantuan story of the National Event the month previous. The focus of this event was on Roleplay and allowed players to explore the miracle of a STRAIN CHANGE. This event was kicked off by a questionnaire that players could fill out to opt into the dramatic changes to their character, but players that showed up later were able to participate as well. We also teased a bit of this story at the end of our National Event when the main NPC of this game showed up on Sunday to talk about some exciting new research.

The lead-up to this event also featured a deep dive into a few mechanics:

  • The Strain change process required players to undergo a Roleplay Burden, a unique DR:TX rule found on our Local Mechanics page. We introduced this concept during VALLEY OF FEAR, but this was a different take on a similar mechanic.

  • We also dug into the rules for Lineages and Strains in a Rules Ramble before the event.

You can also find our other game recaps from this season here:

So once you’ve been caught up, let’s refresh our memories about the premise behind the event…

Premise of Imprint By Design ®

Grandfather Nichols has breathed his last, and that black heart pumped out the last of his ichor-like vitality upon the shores of Lake Bravado.  But in the wake of his final death, the impact of his Grand Finale is still being felt across the San Saba.  Dr. I.E. Esgrove, a visitor to Bravado that was shocked by the ravages of the Necrophage, has been spurred to pursue funding from one Felicity Redfield regarding a new revelation.  Esgrove has found the waste of the Necrophage and its cure clinging to the Infection of individuals across the San Saba, and realized the new potential it can offer for change and restoration.

With the new blessing of the RRC, Dr. Esgrove has been working around the clock delving deep into the Facility underneath Bravado to fuel their machine, a device he calls the T.I.T.A.N Processor.  Escrow has declared the next trade to be the great unveiling of his creation, and there is a call out to the wastes for the brightest, driven, and best – gearheads, scientists, and tinkerers alike to come and join in the culmination.  Miss Felicity Redfield has even graciously volunteered to display her trust in Bravado and Esgrove by being the first test subject.  

The T.I.T.A.N. Processor has been set up on the edge of the Facility, just a short trek from Downtown Bravado, for all to come see the flash of great brilliance when the switches are thrown.  Come one, come all, to witness a new miracle of science!

An Exodus from Waking

Over the past several months, the capital of Waking Prime has been experiencing problems that are either catastrophic or very minor irritations depending on which person you talk to. This floating city is a wonder of oldcestor technology, kept afloat by the mysterious Capacity Engine and the constant tinkering of the RRC’s brightest minds. While some of the muckrakers and opponents of the opulence of the floating city have suggested that they are simply delaying an inevitable doom, others still have sought out additional resources and support for aiding the ailing airship’s engines.

Near the end of the Burning Season, a sudden loss of altitude caused by a failed surface engine caused the city to tilt off course and damaged several key structures built on top of the capital ship. When those buildings were damaged, it inspired several scientists in the city to either pursue a career in a safer environment, or perhaps even some were left go from contracts as funding dried up. Regardless of the truth of the danger to Waking, none can deny that the population of the city continues to shrink as the challenges to the city grow more dire.

One such brilliant mind that had left the city of Waking Prime to seek out his prospects elsewhere was a scientist by the name of I.E. Esgrove. When the city’s problems began, it activated a clause in his contract with Waking and left him in Bravado at the end of the Necrophage crisis as a free agent. He had been hired on originally as part of Research & Development, a sub-sect of the RRC, and had been a man of science since he was old enough to understand it.

Esgrove saw the devastation wrought at the hands of Nichols and vowed to help, being rapidly recruited by Felicity Redfield, the CEO of the RRC. The scientists’ specialty was in math, advanced harmonics, and electrical manipulation of radiation. He was a brilliant man, but he was driven to help others in a way he had been unable to during his tenure in Waking. After discovering that Bravado seemed to be ground zero for Nichol’s machinations and the site of his last stand, he realized he needed a direct connection with the people of the town to continue his research.

Shortly before Esgrove’s exodus from Waking, he had stumbled into a unique side effect of the deadly Necrophage disease that had been spread in the past few weeks. Each of those affected by the disease had a unique marker in their blood and biomass that had mutated the very building blocks of their IMPRINT into a state of instability. While radiation often provoked mutations in Strains, this unstable condition could be manipulated with the right application of science and electricity. The very blueprint of what made a Strain a Strain had become… mutable.

A Mutated Imprint

While this new condition of IMPRINT DISSONANCE might eventually be repaired over time, the symptoms of the condition were spreading. Some of the earliest affected had started reporting strange quirks of behavior and temporary mutations that resembled those of other Strains. A pacifist Unborn might suddenly seem to distance themselves from their Gravemind worship and fall into a rage of the Tainted strain. A rambunctious Diesel Jock might suddenly manifest the signs of an Accensorite accension, or a Baywalker might find themselves suddenly glowing red as if they were an Iron. A friendly Remnant might suddenly grow fangs and begin to thirst for the blood of the living, or a Pureblood might suddenly have become the black sheep of the family when they gained the rot of a Retrograde.

Like oldcestor diseases before it, it seemed like the Necrophage would have serious long term effects for some of its victims, but it also presented a unique opportunity. If the Imprint itself was mutable, then it might be possible to realize one of Esgrove’s dreams — the mutation of a Strain into a completely different Strain.

There had some limited successes before, to be fair. Juliet Butcher, the Butcher of Killhouse, had successfully pioneered a process she called Project Lurid to convert a strain into an Unstable. She had performed the procedure on herself, but she had also transmogrified the psychotic killer known as Eyeless Jack from his former Quiet Folk strain. However, while the Butcher’s process seemed to embrace the chaotic instability to force someone into a permanent Unstable mutation, it seemed to work only one way. A scientist from Hayven named Mica Snow had also pioneered a procedure to “cure” Bad Brain by converting a victim into what became known more commonly as the Tainted. Like the Butcher’s process, this was also limited to a one-way change.

There had of course been the strangeness from after the Hiway War when a number of folks had spontaneously changed their Strains, but that was widely considered to be part of the instability that had occurred when the long dead returned to life and the Grave Mind seemed to regurgitate those that had been lost. However, this phenomenon was short-lived and ended almost 4 years ago and no one had successfully replicated what had happened.

The taint of the Necrophage could be a catalyst that could be used to achieve the unthinkable, but it would need a significant power source to enact Esgrove’s experiment.

The TITAN Processor

Esgrove’s masterpiece was a massive machine filled with wires, electrodes, aether tubing, capacitors, and transformer-generators. Dubbed the TITAN Processor, Esgrove claimed this machine was capable of the Transfer of Imprint, Thoughts, And Neuropathways between two patients. By the use of carefully targeted blasts of radiation, alteration of harmonic frequencies, and the unique instability of the Imprint created by the Necrophage, Esgrove was sure he could create a stable Strain change thanks to his research. The machine could even effectively “copy” the unique signatures of one person to another, provided both hosts were willing and similar enough in Strain and Lineage. If someone had transformed into a different Strain, it would be capable of returning them to their original Strain or stabilizing the Imprint to make their new Strain permanent.

While he had been able to smuggle most of the resources out of Waking with his new benefactor’s help, one thing that Felicity could not help Esgrove immediately obtain was a stable power supply. While the city of Waking was a technological marvel in itself, the presence of the lightning storm generators and the Capacity Engine meant that scientists never wanted for lack of electricity or power for projects. In order to power the TITAN Processor, they would need a replacement for the extreme power demands of the conversion process.

Felicity Redfield once again came through with a solution. Underneath the town of Bravado lurked a massive oldcestor complex, known to some as C.R.A.D.L.E. but to most simply as the “Facility” — a source of metal, wiring, and artifacts that drove delvers and fortune seekers to the tiny town off the Oxline. The deepest parts of the facility sometimes still held dormant devices that brimmed with power, and they could tap into the Facility itself as a source for the TITAN Processor. With Felicity’s help and the RRC’s resources, they would be able to complete the first test of the device.

Calling his fellow scientists of R&D and the brightest minds of the San Saba to Bravado, Esgrove hoped to show off the power of his new device and provide a tangible way for the citizens of the area to recover from the Imprint-warping effects of the Necrophage. For once, he would be able to do some good with his creations, and help those that were either suffering from a lost Strain or those who sought a change to what they desired to become.

the First Test

Early Friday evening, I.E. Esgrove arrived back in Bravado with the first candidate of the TITAN Process, the CEO of the Railroad Conglomerate: Felicity Redfield. As part of her agreement to fund Esgrove’s project, Felicity was to be the first focus of the new experiment. A sitting board member on the San Saba Board and the executive leader of the RRC being willing to be a guinea pig was a major vote of confidence in Esgrove’s project.

As Esgrove finished the last-minute calculations, Felicity assured those gathered to watch the experiment of her confidence in the TITAN Process and how they would use the machine to help those that needed it. The Strain changes were still spreading, and more townsfolk were exhibiting changes. For some, Strain was a part of their identity, and they were eager to return back to the form they were most comfortable in. Some embraced the change, hoping that the TITAN Process could help them become this new form of what they were meant to be. And others still were still on the fence, clearly not completely satisfied with the change but reluctant to make such a big decision without time and contemplation.

Esgrove had large cables and wiring running into an exposed hatch that led into one of the sub-levels of the Facility near the Maw. According to Felicity, the area was a redundant system that could be used to power the device and it should have no ill effect on the town. While most of the Facility lacked power, those isolated pockets that retained some form of energy could be tapped into with the RRC’s patented electrical converters. Lights lit up the night around the TITAN Processor, makeshift engines whirred to life, and fluid processors bubbled with kinetic energy as the machine was turned towards its first test.

Felicity Redfield stepped into one of the Titan chambers, eager to prove her investment successful, trusting that she was perfect as is and needed no major changes from the device. Instead, for this first test they would just be solidifying her Imprint and preventing the decay that was affecting other Strains. If this worked, they could proceed to a more robust plan of altering Strains on a purposeful and profitable basis. It could allow them to sell an elective strain change to any that wanted to invest in the project, offering a future where they could truly offer an Imprint by Design ® service.

With a click and a hum, the machine was spun up, and the TITAN Process began.

Sweat broke out on Esgrove’s face as a sudden strange ticking and beeping came from the device. Smoke poured from the machine as he frantically moved levers and knobs across his device from within his control booth. As he calibrated and adjusted the machine in the way that only he had mastered, it was clear something was wrong.

A failed Experiment

Esgrove began a system shutdown, hoping that Felicity had not been injured or even killed by the device. The TITAN Processor screeched and hissed as if complaining about the aborted procedure, lights flaring and sirens buzzing in protest. Esgrove moved with a fever, trying his best to contain the sudden release of energy from the device. The process had been halted, but the TITAN machine had stored too much power to stop so abruptly. With a reluctant switch, he forced the power flow back into the Facility to avoid a critical failure.

The emergency protocols locked into place, the great whirring sounds of the TITAN Processor slowed and came to a jarring halt. With a giant blast of steam and the peculiar buzzing in the night of ionized air escaping from vents, the chamber opened once more.

Felicity emerged cautiously, still unaware of the problems that Esgrove was trying to contain. As she asked for a mirror, she was horrified. Instead of the face she expected to see in the mirror, she had been transformed. Felicity now had strange psionic growths emerging from all over her body. A ridge of crystals across her face dimly glowed in the moonlight, and at any place where the skin was tougher like a knee or elbow had suddenly grew crystalline formations. However, despite the dramatic and obvious change, she was still alive!

After a quick check over by Esgrove with the help of the town’s doctors, it became clear that while something had changed, she had survived a dose of lethal radiation that should have killed her. The reason why Felicity was still alive was surprising to most of the town — Felicity was not a Pureblood as folks had assumed, but she was secretly a Remnant!

Had the machine worked as intended during the abrupt stop, Esgrove explained, it would have likely melted her to a pool of biomass and radioactive sludge. The lie that Felicity had maintained for so long had worked in her favor. Her bright red curly hair was simply a wig, and carefully concealed beneath her finery she normally had rough patches of skin and the scaly hide of the Mutant lineage. Felicity had always wanted to be able to claim the birthright of the Elitariats and be accepted amongst her peers in the RRC and Waking, and something as simple as being the wrong Strain wasn’t something that would prevent her from her rise to power in the RRC.

The device had worked, but it had supercharged her Remnant strain. The new mutations were clearly a side effect of the math of the process being unbalanced and incomplete, but in some ways, it was still a successful result. Felicity had stayed a Remnant. Esgrove would need to run some more tests, but it should still be possible to successfully change the Strain of someone suffering from the strange Imprint Dissonance. Despite the first test failing, it was simply a matter of balancing the equation and discovering the right combination of factors to control the TITAN process.

But a sudden rumble beneath their feet brought an end to the relief of Felicity’s survival…

THE WEEPING

It had been quiet so far in the evening, almost eerily so. Few zed and raiders had made it past patrols, and it seemed as if the night was holding its breath for something to happen. The town’s population was focused on the reveal of Esgrove’s machine, so it was immediately obvious that something was wrong so close to the Maw.

A rumble under the ground grew and grew as it built into an earthquake. The ground rent open in places, and in some holes were opened up into places deeper underground. The ionic charge in the air sparked in the night, resembling a thunderstorm building as ball lightning danced across the sky. Areas near the lake collapsed into dangerous quicksand pits, and chasms opened up across the town.

The power rerouted back into the Facility had done something. Some previously unknown section of the Facility must have been affected by the power draw of the TITAN Processor. And deep in the tunnels below Bravado, something answered.

The town had long dealt with the peculiar undead threats of the Facility. Previous explorers had discovered several rooms full of Semper Mort patients, dead in cryogenic tubes and rotting in their prisons separated from the Grave Mind. This half-death led to the things known as BLOOD GHASTS becoming a threat. If the tubes were broken, the things that escaped resembled undead Semper Morts with a hunger for flesh borne of a millennium of starvation. They were dangerous enough enemies, but their numbers were rarely more than a handful released at once.

But now an earthquake inside the Facility had changed all that.

Bloodghasts could feed on survivors and mutate at an accelerated rate, advancing into more and more dangerous forms of the undead. The Bloodghasts had always been unstable creatures, and even the dangerous Bloodghast Alphas were nothing compared to a new threat that emerged from below - the WEEPING.

The first encounters with the Weeping happened as a swarm of the Bloodghasts escaped from a cavernous rent in the group in the forest. First named for the black ichor dripping from their eyes that appeared to be hideous tears, the Weeping were dangerous. Somehow impacted by the radiation of the TITAN Processor, the creatures had evolved even past what was thought possible for a Bloodghast, but they were just as feral, vicious, and HUNGRY. They had become stronger, smarter, more deadly, and possessed new and dangerous abilities to cause immense pain and agony in a target with a strike or to even hyper adapt a defense to those that tried to kill them.

The Weeping would adapt to whatever threat they faced, growing rock-like scales in a moment to resist the crushing blow of a hammer, bone-like plating that reflected bullets, or strange crystalline growths that resisted the strongest psionic flame. The adaptation was quick and rendered them nearly immune to repeated forms of the same attacks. A clever survivor took advantage of the response to make one of the Weeping immune to his gunfire while his friends hacked it to pieces up close.

It was possible to kill the Weeping, but one shuddered to think of a horde of the creatures. It took an entire organized group of the Fallow Hope to put down one of the creatures, much less an entire wave of the things. Whatever was causing this new form of Bloodghast to evolve in the depths of the Facility needed to be dealt with quickly.

Restless Dreams

After a harrowing night evading attacks from Bloodghasts and the Weeping, some of the Strain changes were worsening. The mutation was evolving at a rapid pace for some, and the changes were becoming more dangerous. A person might suddenly mutate through multiple Accensorite ascensions, or the hunger for meat might drive a new Lascarian to kill. Without a lifetime of living as that Strain, minor inconveniences that others had learned to live with became crippling hindrances in the newly changed.

Esgrove returned in the morning, haggard and restless, having spent the previous night trying to understand the mistakes that had been made the night before. He was full of ideas and looking for research assistants to help him fix the TITAN Processor, hoping to bring some relief to those that were undergoing the growing pains of their new Strain. With their help, they could research new equations to balance the chemical mutations of the machine and restore functionality to the process.

The TITAN machine was built around two large chambers, originally powered by a tap into the primary power systems of the Facility. Esgrove’s vision was that the first chamber would collect data from the background radiation of the world to offer a clear and untainted blueprint of that subject. From there, they could apply that template to a subject in the second chamber to force a similar mutation to match, or to stabilize the Imprint in the subject back to its original form.

When Esgrove had performed the procedure on Felicity, they had done so without a donor on the other end, so the effect on her Imprint had been random and not deliberate. If the equation was balanced, it might be possible to predict and manipulate how that mutation of the Imprint resolved. With these variables uncovered, they would simply need to account for the various specific quirks of the Imprint in various subjects of all Strains. Simple blood tests and math could help isolate these genetic differences between the Strains so they could adapt the compounds used in the machine to match.

In addition to finding a new equation for his process, Esgrove identified a way to safely power the machine by using subsystems in the Facility instead. The first attempt had attempted to tap into a main line, and it overloaded the process or perhaps whatever system it had been connected to. The recent earthquakes and release of the Weeping were likely related to that system, so they could not risk further damage by using the same source of power as before.

However, the surge of energy from the machine had activated new mechanical readouts and gauges that had not worked for generations and opened doors and chambers that had yet to be explored. A map of sorts was now lit within one of the hub rooms of the facility, offering new insight into how the Facility was organized. They now had more information into the mysterious function of the Facility than they had ever had before, and Felicity’s delvers were already planning eager expeditions into newly unlocked tunnels.

Esgrove’s theory was that if they could tap into a smaller system instead, they could drain the batteries of that system and keep the process contained. It would disable the subsystem they used, but it would provide enough power to keep the TITAN Processor active for hours at a time. With some coordination and a bit of luck, they could process dozens of patients at once and offer a cure to the Imprint Dissonance plaguing the town.

The RRC scientist had located eight sub systems that he believed could “safely” supply power to the machine, but they would have unknowable effects on the Facility itself when they were disabled. He would need the town to help make a decision about what systems to use to power the TITAN engine, as they would deal with the consequences in the future.

Powering the TITAN Processor

Deciphering the archaic text of the Facility was no easy task, but the researchers believed they had identified functions of several eligible subsystems. By cannibalizing power, they could help solve the problem facing Bravado, but each risked causing long term complications. Without more info, even the information they could find was simply a guess. Any systems that remained could perhaps even be accessed later, and would be a resource they could use in the future once the crisis passed.

There were eight systems that had enough power to function for the TITAN Processor’s needs:

Life Support 

  • This gargantuan, pythonic coil of rubber and insulation extended down deep into The Facility. Of the subsystems, this one easily carried the most power and disseminated it the furthest. Water, electricity, and a kind of osseous and generic slurry that resembled something between hot cereal and cement, flowed through those isolated rivers of caloric density and power deep into the fathomless depths of the Facility. Whatever was being fueled by the water and slurry of Life Support would be left to die once the system lost power, lost to a makeshift tomb in the tunnels below.

Hydroponics Bay 

  • The electricity required to keep the artificial sunlight on in rooms so deep underground they have never seen the real thing, was laughably negligible. Still, it was enough to get the job done. The surprising readout on this system was that this section of the Facility had never lost power. It is very possible, in fact, that whatever biome survived inside the Hydroponics Bay could represent one of the last contained, uninfluenced ecosystems, since the Fall. Untouched, the RRC could perhaps even discover new herbs, medicines, and plants from before the Fall if they could access the chamber.

Containment Maglocks 

  • The complicated and ancient mechanical blueprint of the Facility that was their reference indicated the existence of magnetically locking doors throughout its deep structures. These doors were currently powered and sealed. Unlocking the Containment Maglocks would mean access to the titanic amounts of electricity that kept them shut, but whatever the doors contained might be released. With the recent release of the Weeping, one shuddered to think what might still lurk below.

Resonance Lab

  • When they first spliced into the wires that were labeled [RESONANCE LAB], the material inside them appeared at first fiber optic, possessing a crystalline structure and the ability to transmit light along its length purely by being exposed to it. The makeshift voltage tester they used clearly indicated a strong current moving through the substance and it would easily function as the power source they required. Still, when one survivor wrapped his palm around the wires, he felt a vaguely unpleasant tingle in his arm, almost like a very sour electrocution. The power here in the Resonance Lab could be more easily tapped for later use if they didn’t use it to power the TITAN machine. A readily accessible electrical source in the Facility would be a boon to future exploration below Bravado.

Virology 

  • This thick bundle of wires terminated in a fuse box not far beneath the San Saba Soil labeled Virology. The complicated mechanisms being powered in this system ranged from “decontamination” to what appeared to be a weekly cycle of radiation that was applied beyond the bounds of the read-out’s date calculation. Despite the wear and tear of millennia, protection from the elements had mostly kept this system up and running since the Fall. Whatever viral samples kept suspended in the subsystem would risk new plagues and outbreaks to rival that of the Necrophage, but could offer new insight into the diseases of the wastelands.

Water Treatment

  • The pile of tubing and purification infrastructure known as Water Treatment was powered by an enormous cable that reached up and towards Lake Bravado like a tentacle of some insidious beast. This seemed to be connected to the monolith of stone in the lake that was first revealed in the explosion that destroyed Old Bravo years ago. The treatment system matched the edifice of white stone and black metal that had first drawn the RRC to Bravado to delve into the mysteries of the Facility. It had power, though it seemed the system was hardly functional after eons of exposure. It would be a useful tool to process the tainted lake water, if they could keep it operational.

Acoustic Dampers 

  • These heavy-duty power cables seemed attached directly to a series of enormous underground plates at the very bottom of the Facility core, if the schematics were to be believed. With cable shielding made of lead, or some similar substance, the best guess was that this system was crucial to make underground tectonic platters tilt and shift according to some ancient design. The Acoustic Dampers required an enormous amount of energy, second only to Life Support. If they disabled these systems, it would likely aggravate and accelerate the tectonic activity that had occurred when the TITAN machine first turned on the night before.

The Stitch 

  • This cable was singular, and kept inside a plexiglass tube for its entire, unfathomable length. Bright orange, though faded with the eons, it read [THE STITCH] in red letters outlined in black. Whenever this place was built, the designer took pains to keep this particular system completely isolated from the rest of the Facility’s inner workings. It was not listed on any blueprints and was omitted from the mechanical maps they had uncovered. But it was clear that The Stitch was routed through every section of the Facility to its deepest, most chasmic and charnel laboratories.

Each of the subsystems represented a dangerous choice, but the town needed to bring the TITAN Processor back online if they hoped to find some cure to the Imprint Dissonance.

The TITAN Process Restored

Once the TITAN Processor was ready, Esgrove was ready to try the first mass test of the machine. With the help of a fellow operator, Esgrove could lead a group of survivors into the test chambers and help them prepare for the transformation. He had built an elaborate mechanism for the machine that would only respond to him, to keep potential martyrs in the town from trying anything catastrophic.

Esgrove was slightly more harried and was struggling. The effort to reconfigure the machine was no easy task, and he had barely slept the night before. By his best calculations they would have enough power to try several times, but he had no idea how long the energy surge that powered the Facility below would last, so they had to act quickly. It was an endeavor to wrangle the townsfolk of Bravado, but they found their first test subjects willing to risk the process to either lock in their transformation or return their Imprint to its original state.

The key to the process would be having the correct donor and recipient. The previous mistake had been trying to convert Felicity alone. If they could provide the machine with another person to stand in as a source of the Imprint, he could effectively “copy” the Imprint onto the other patient, returning them to a stable condition, free of the Imprint Dissonance. As long as the patients were close to the desired Strain, they would have a chance. It would still be dangerous and exhausting, and if they survived, they would need immediate medical attention.

The town split into several groups. The size of the machine limited access to a few dozen patients at a time, and they would need a second assistant to help Esgrove outside, as well as doctors to assist. Moreover, they would need to make sure they had compatible pairs of patients to fix the condition. It was a logistical nightmare, but it would be worth the risk.

With a now-familiar whir, the TITAN Processor was brought online for the first successful test.

Correcting the Imprint

From the outside, the process seemed mostly mundane. A lot of smoke, lights, sounds, and such, but it was effectively watching Esgrove move back and forth flipping switches inside the operations chamber he used to monitor the process. It was somewhat anticlimactic for onlookers, but Esgrove assured them that this time it would work. He had routed power from the Water Treatment subsystem for their first attempt, hoping that the system’s supply of electricity would be enough.

The chambers were bathed with a soft glow, and a sweet-smelling gas was piped into the chambers. Those inside drifted into a dreamless sleep, cradled in the oblong depressions in the chamber. Once conscious faded, what the survivors experienced inside was entirely different.

They awoke to a pseudo-landscape of Bravado, an eerily familiar forest without the gargantuan machinery of the TITAN machine where they stood, but something else. The fog of sleep gave way to the cool mist of the forest floor.

Out of that primordial fog stumbled a smoked-glass reflection of the Imprint they were not saddled with but had chosen. Each of the survivors seemed to be connected to them and could hear their thoughts as your own. Each heartbeat in time with their IMPRINT-SHADE, their doppelgänger face resembling the donor in the other chamber, but almost as if someone else was wrapped up in their skin too. 

It seemed like the sleepless realm was something close to the Near Death. This couldn’t be though, as it would be impossible to be that deep in the Mortis. In fact, above them they could see the sky filtering through the Amaranthine-like sunlight layer. The Imprints around them seemed malleable, and impermanent. How easy it would be for all of this to go terribly wrong.

At the edge of their vision, they could each perceive a Threshold, almost as if a glowing doorway was beckoning them across. But in their way stood the Imprint-Shade, mirroring each of their movements and preventing them from drawing closer. One by one, each patient attempted to escape the strange dreamscape, but each time they were confronted by the Shade. Some described the Shade asking questions, while others described quick and cutting blows seeking their flesh.

Frustrated, the first of survivors simply pushed their way not past the Shade, but instead THROUGH it. It was a struggle, almost as if they were slipping into a compressed tube, squeezing themselves in an impossible way to fit into the reflection of what they desired to be. The words of ancient Barogue filtered through their head — “Imprint is Matter, and Matter is Imprint”. The machine was simply a catalyst for the choice ahead. It would be their belief that made a change reality and permanent, not the pseudo-science of the TITAN Process.

Esgrove had simply opened a door across the threshold and made the change possible. They would still need to walk through, if they could.

It was a deeply personal experience for each. The challenge of the Imprint-Shade was only a task they could complete if they were willing. It was not something to be fought against, but rather accepted. As they each stepped into the shadow of the Imprint as if it was their own shadow, they felt fire in their blood and a blinding light as they crossed the Threshold back into reality.

group processing

After about an hour in the strange machine, the survivors emerged from the TITAN Processor. Bleeding and coughing, covered in a strange byproduct of fluid and biomass, they each emerged liked newborns into the chill afternoon. Smiles and thanks were quick to follow, as each of the patients discovered that they had emerged changed by the experience. For those matched with the donor of their original Strain, the Dissonance had faded back into their former Strains. For those that found the change something they actively sought instead, they found themselves in new bodies, transmogrified by the TITAN Process into the Strain that matched their desired outcome.

The first group had been a success, so all that remained was to organize the rest of the town and have folks decided how they would choose to resolve the Imprint Dissonance.

Each successive group chose a new subsystem to cannibalize for the process. While the first group has disabled the easiest system, Water Purification, the others were left with more difficult choices. The second group settled on disabling the Acoustic Dampers, fueling the machine once more to complete the harrowing transformation of the TITAN Process. No one felt comfortable disabling the ominous system marked only as the Stitch, fearing some terrible threat from beyond death.

Throughout the afternoon, the symptoms plaguing the town grew worse. The assaults of Bloodghasts and the Weeping threatened survivors across Bravado, as new crevices and chasms opened into the Facility below. Early delving teams from the RRC reported radioactive water flowing once more from the Facility back into the lake, a consequence of the failed Water Purification system. The earthquakes and quicksand pits continued as well, provoked by the loss of the Acoustic Dampers.

Esgrove worked with a stoic and focused determination through each group, despite the danger. Each time a new group was ready, he would descend into the tunnels of the Facility to complete the final connections to the power supplies inside. Each time, he emerged more worn and haggard, sometimes beaten and bloody by the treacherous descent. One by one, the town disabled the Hydroponics Lab and Life Support and rushed to find anyone that was willing to endure the process to stabilize their Imprint. Travelers from nearby Essex had arrived throughout the afternoon, seeking out the opportunity to embrace a new life, change by the life-altering powers of Esgrove’s masterpiece. Hours stretched by as dozens of those inflicted by Imprint Dissonance chose to brave the TITAN machine under Esgrove’s careful operation.

While the town was dealing with the struggle of powering the TITAN Processor for what might be its final process, they discovered that two of the powered subsystems had been shut down during the early evening - the Containment Maglocks and the Resonance Lab. Why the Facility suddenly lost power is unknown, but the timing was very suspicious. Thankfully, the power loss did not affect the The Stitch, but it still forced a harder decision on the town. It’s possible that someone could have tampered with the connections, but who would have had the knowledge and equipment to do such sabotage?

The Final Price

When Esgrove emerged from the Facility after completing the next connection, he reported back on what they had feared. This would be the last time the TITAN Process would have enough power to operate. The Facility was becoming more dangerous and the power overload was reaching a critical point. If they kept pushing and cannibalizing the systems of the Facility, they could risk a colossal failure of every system still active in the Facility. It wasn’t something Esgrove was willing to do, no matter the cost. But another complication made sure this was to be the last song of the TITAN machine.

Esgrove was dying.

The constant descents into the Facility to connected exposed wiring, or perhaps the flood of radiation from countless procedures that bathed the unshield control bay of the machine with lethal doses had been too much. There was no way to save him at this point. He had given his all to try to leave a lasting legacy of his invention. With skin flaking off, his hair shedding, and his muscles literally eating themselves, he steeled himself for the final task at hand. He would spend his dying breath making sure that his dream was made reality.

Perhaps his notes would be enough for the RRC to replicate the process in the future. Some of the townsfolk had refused the treatment, choosing instead to find alternate ways to cure the Imprint Dissonance. Some simply couldn’t make such a monumental decision in a night, no matter the risk of death they faced. Even his patron had made a choice.

Despite the years of lies, the manuevering and dreams of a life as a Pureblood, Felicity Redfield had entered the chambers of the TITAN machine with a soft smile for Esgrove and a determination in her stride that had made her famously successful. At her side was another Remnant, a purposeful choice to keep her original Strain intact instead of pursuing the life she had pretended to want. She was perfect as she was, after all, just like she had said that first night. It had been only with the help of the townsfolk, and the example of Esgrove’s sacrifice that she had realized the truth.

The final TITAN Process went as flawlessly as his first attempt that afternoon. The survivors emerged, either returned or transformed, the perfect result of the process that Esgrove had perfected at the cost of his own life.

As the light faded, and the starry Lonestar skies shone above, the town sat in contemplation, mourning the loss of the strange scientist. While Imprint by Design ® might have been his goal, the echoes of the decisions made by Bravado would carry them into a hopeful future.

Threads of Note from IMPRINT BY DESIGN ®

  • Fear Eaters - On Friday night, a strange creature was spotted in Bravado. It seemed to be some kind of psionic Raider, already a rarity in the familiar threat to the wastelands. Strange geometric crystals were growing from its eyes and body, similar to the creatures that were first encountered in the vaulted halls of lost Barogue. Is it possible that the Resonant raiders have escaped the lost city and spread throughout the San Saba, or were these raiders coming from somewhere else?

  • All of My Sins Remembered - A familiar face of the Reckoners of the Grave Council, Solomon was rescued from the morgue thanks to the efforts of the Vados. The skull-faced Retrograde had been targeted by someone called the “Memory Thief” and had lost several crucial memories of his past and was heavily fractured after his trip through the Mortis Amaranthine. With the town’s help, they delved into the story of Solomon’s past and his unique connection with Grandfather Nichols and helped him deal with the lost memories.

  • The Accountant - An official from the Railroad Conglomerate came into Bravado offering a unique service to exchange currencies from around the wastes. You could trade in your smaller Brass notes to trade up to easier-to-carry Lead or Tin. You could even purchase other currencies that were in the Accountant’s binder for a direct 1:1 exchange. Many survivors make a collection of the various currencies used around the wasteland, and this was an excellent opportunity to add some rare choices to their collection. Unfortunately, the Accountant’s trip was cut short when a group of thieves activated a personal Shredder Bomb that wiped out the thieves and the collection in an explosive blast. Ooof!

Wrap Up

That’s it for today Vados! We still have one more recap to go to finish up our story for the first half of Season 4. We will be ramping up our production for the next episode, CRISIS OF FAITH, very soon. Regular content will resume the week of January 18th, but we have a pretty neat side project with an online game series we are calling “Lonestar Skies Virtual Events”.

These one-day stories will feature some areas of the San Saba we can’t explore directly and will offer a unique online DR:TX experience. Our first Lonestar Skies Event is called IN THE WOODS and will be run by the peerless Shan on Saturday, January 21st.

Story Recap: Pyroclasm

Good morning! It’s Jonathan here with a STORY RECAP for our last National event, THE NECROPHAGE: PYROCLASM. The goal of these Story Recap posts is to help fill in the blanks for those that might have missed an important mod, been at NPC camp, sleeping, or simply were not able to attend the game. These are major points of continuity that might be important throughout the season, and I hope this will help with the FOMO feels or answer some questions you had about what happened.

Photo credits in this post are from Max Pohlmeier, Lainey Weiss, Crystal Louise Remy, and Noah Goodman.

This was our first live National Event of 3.0, and it was preceded by the online event STORM WALL, ran by our friends at DR: Connecticut. This event featured several characters online that were later introduced in person during the PYROCLASM.

We released several teasers for this event including a very fun text adventure written by Shan Lind.

You can also find our other game recaps from this season here:

So once you’ve been caught up, let’s refresh our memories about the premise behind the event…

The Premise of The Necrophage: Pyroclasm

Something wicked this way comes...

Grandfather Nichols and the evil forces of Killhouse Prison’s extended network of murderers, candymen, maniacs and machinators, have come home to roost in the Lonestar at last.  From the necrotic swamps of the Wailing Shores, the mad Nemesis doctor brings with him The Necrophage, a powerful mutagenic disease that turns anyone who breathes it into pliant super soldiers and eventually, living bombs.  Nichols seeks to destroy the system that betrayed him twice, by immolating the San Saba Territories with the very brains of the people who committed each layer of badly broken faith. 

Nichols sieges Killhouse Prison; lair to the most foul and murderous personalities in the Lonestar Wastes, recruiting an army from within. The Necrophage spreads out before him like a black carpet, but in his way is the township of New Bravado, where the Oxline pulls into station. When Nichols steps off the train, with his newly Necrophage-infused soldiers in tow, it will be with the intention to complete the genocide of the San Saba people, a feat denied to him one year ago. With the successful test of his mutagen on Bravado, Nichols will be able to market The Necrophage to tyrants and warmongers across the Greater Wastes as a tool to create armies from enemies. 

As the Necrophage creeps across the Blastlands, rendering common strains into vicious and merciless killers, it must be to be the will of the Survivors that rise up to meet the ardent monsters who stride across the San Saba unshackled. Left unchecked, The Necrophage will first infect everyone in the San Saba and then beyond.  In an act of ironic Indulgence, the Survivors must team up with the new Warden of Killhouse Prison one last time to cleanse the waste of criminal filth once contained within, and thereafter choose the ultimate fate of the unlawful in the San Saba. 

A cell, or a coffin.

The Prelude to Necrophage: The Storm wall

From the bustling metroplex of Essex to the distant islands of the Wailing Shores, the Oxline traveled north before its return journey back home to Bravado with a dangerous cargo - the Nemesis Mastermind known as Grandfather Nichols. Storm clouds darkened the horizon, a foul omen of the danger to come. A deal was struck between two powerful families to return an enemy of Bravado and the San Saba Territories back to where he can finally answer for the many crimes he has committed.

Dr. Hannibal Nichols-Lovelace, sometimes known as “Grandfather”, is a talented Quiet Folk doctor that has spent his life perfecting the art of disease manipulation. He moonlights as a member of the Nemesis Cult, following a persona of his own devising that he refers to as the “Plague Doctor”, combining the menace of the Hannibal Lector, Springheeled Jack, Dr. Moriarty, Dr. Moreau, and other various evil doctors in the lore of the murderous cult. He has recruited a cult of Nemesis worshipers known as the “Acolytes of Eyeless Jack”, using the population of Lifers of Killhouse Prison to build a cult of personality around his family, and his son, Eyeless Jack, who has followed in his footsteps as a Nemesis. Grandfather Nichols was responsible for the slaughter of the Lovelace Family matriarch, the assassination of Holy Mother Queen Jasper, and the release of a terrible weaponized plague known as Gutscourge last year.

When a record storm threatened to wipe out Brownstone Island in the Wailing Shores, several survivors from Bravado and beyond were able to question the Nemesis Plague Doctor from inside his prison cell underneath the Lighthouse. Like his namesake “Hannibal”, the crazed doctor gave cryptic answers and taunted his captors from the safety of his cell while promising of his impending escape. Nichols spoke of a plan to return back to Bravado with a black miasma of his revenge made manifest, and of a new disease he had crafted to enact his plan - THE NECROPHAGE.

Strange creatures emerged from the sea to assail the storm walls of the island, mutated Necrophage Mutants and Necrotitans, abominations created by the early experiments of the disease. Nearly invulnerable, the creatures exploded in a blast of psionic fire when they died, the pyroclastic bombardment of the disease that ravaged their bodies. These creatures were strangely reminiscent of the Butchered, the strange creations of Juliet Butcher during the events of VALLEY OF FEAR. Though the storm and the undead assault threatened to release the prisoners, the survivors of the town managed to shore up the defenses of the island and its storm wall, uncover a murderous plot by the Lighthouse Keeper and return her to a cell of her own, and stop several dangerous criminals from escaping.

As the storm waned, the Oxline was loaded with Grandfather Nichols and several of his cellmates from the dungeons underneath the Lighthouse. Part of a prisoner transfer with the Brownstone Island leadership, the Oxline carried a number of dangerous prisoners from the north including the serial killer Knife-Tooth Jack, and Charlie Dales, the Lighthouse Keeper and crazed cultist of the Voiceless Deep. Thanks to the efforts of the survivors during the storm, they released the maniacal Glassmaker from his imprisonment, preventing him from making the journey to Bravado with Nichols and his allies.

However, in the chaos of the storm, the Oxline had been loaded with an another passenger — the disease known as the Necrophage.

The Necrophage, a perfect weapon

Barrels and barrels of the foul black substance known as the Necrophage Catalyst accompanied the prisoners from the Wailing Shores. This chemical was highly infectious, capable of spreading a new compounded disease crafted by Grandfather Nichols, with the assistance of the necro-scientists of Brownstone Island. Combining elements of several dangerous diseases, including Bad Brain, Gutscourge, the Plague of the Unfinished, and Black Fungal Disease, the Necrophage was capable of converting any exposed to the compound into obedient soldiers while giving them an incredible resistance to damage and an unquenchable thirst for violence and blood.

The disease was subtle at first, lying dormant in the host but beginning a terrible process. While the infected suffered no obvious symptoms other than a inflamed wound in the shape of an “X” at the injection site, they were helpless to resist the psionic commands of the disease’s creator. His insidious compulsions created sleeper agents that helped him enact his terrible plans wherever he went. These unwilling agents of his revenge would open the doors to his cell, bring him the supplies he needed for his research, and load the Ox with barrels of his foul plague and train cars filled with his crazed Necrophage Mutants.

Once exposed to the airborne Necrophage toxins he brought with him from the Wailing Shores, the disease would activate in the infected, reaching a maturity and pushing the infected towards a terrible fate. Once activated, the grand disease of Nichols was capable of removing the infected from the INFECTIOUS CYCLE itself. While those that would die would normally follow the cycle of life and death known throughout the wastes, the Necrophage disease pulled the host forcibly from this cycle.

If the disease ran its course, the infected would burn through their own biomass as a personal morgue, fueling a new cycle that made them invulnerable soldiers capable of absorbing the imprints of those they killed to fuel their primordial siphon. The amaranthine armor that regenerated their wounds as fast as they were dealt could be eventually worn down with overwhelming trauma through gunfire or blade, but it simply activated the last poison pill hidden within the disease. When the diseased finally died a final death, they would not enter the Mortis Amaranthine, but rather die a final death in a massive explosion of psionic energy — THE PYROCLASM.

Separated from the infectious cycle, the disease created a unique side effect in the newly deceased. In the wake of this pyroclastic explosion was left a corpse. The last time a corpse was left behind was before the infectious cycle started with the fall of mankind, and it presented new and curious challenges. Filled to the brim with the infectious plague of the Necrophage, these corpses threatened to provoke a new mutation and outbreak of the already dangerous disease. If enough people were to fall to the Necrophage, the waves of plague would spread across every being in the wastes.

Nichol’s perfect revenge. A world ending plague. An end to all stories.

The Fall of Killhouse

The fortress-prison of Prudence Penitentiary stands north of the tiny town of Bravado, an imposing edifice of justice and sin. Nicknamed “Killhouse” after a terrible massacre that occurred in the early days after the Hiway War, the prison was home to the worst criminals in the San Saba. It was also soon to be the new home of Grandfather Nichols. It would be a homecoming of sorts, uniting Nichols with his son, the Nemesis killer known as Eyeless Jack, as well as throngs of the orange-clad LIFERS, the permanent inhabitants of the prison. Too dangerous to kill, but too dangerous to let leave, the prison would be a final destination for the mad doctor.

A place to contain his danger and madness, safe from the world at large.

However, unknown to the new Warden, during the weeks prior to the arrival of Grandfather Nichols, his advance agents were hard at work spreading the tendrils of his disease throughout the guards and inhabitants of the prison. From Essex to the Clutch, there were reports of midnight abductions and forced injections with a strange black chemical, but the lack of obvious symptoms hid the menace that lied dormant. The disease was already infecting a number of key linchpins, waiting for the honeyed words of Grandfather Nichols to enact his master plan.

When the Oxline arrived at Killhouse, it did not take long for Nichols to conquer. Rather than being escorted to a cell, Nichol’s manacles were removed and he was set free with the Penitentiary. With a quick command, the guards were turned to his employ and led their new leader through the prison. At each cell block, Nichols spread the foul poison of the Necrophage, turning each of the Lifers into a new army of NECRO-SOLDIERS, or converting those that were previously infected.

In a matter of hours, the disease had ravaged the prison, converting almost all of the inhabitants into slaves of Nichol’s mania. At his side, stood the LIFER PRIMES, those specific agents that were allowed more autonomy than the common Necro-Soldier. The halls of the prison were emptied, leaving the vacant cells of Killhouse a vacant tomb, with only the voices of dead remaining. Before they could be claimed as new servants of Nichols, the Warden and his allies fled the prison, carrying a dire message of warning to the next stop on the Oxline..

Bravado Station.

The Heralds of Grandfather Nichols

Juliet Butcher, the Unstable head Surgeon of Killhouse, arrived in town first. Despite being captured one month previously for her role in creating a terrible Crystal Candy Manufactorum, she was once again free and curiously eager to assist the town of Bravado. She brought with her information that the town could use to protect themselves from the plague. The Butcher had turned against her former ally, and provided reams of notes from the Nemesis Plague Doctor detailing his research into the cruel disease of Necrophage. Provided they could decipher the strange ciphers, the materials could help them understand what was happening.

The town was not defenseless, even in spite of a strange new disease. The plague had been built on the scaffolding of diseases before it, so the doctors of Bravado already had the ability to employ inoculations, disease kits, and strange Grave-Bell Shards provided by the RRC and the scientist known as the Architect. While the disease was something new, it might be possible to find a cure given enough time.

But time was not on their side.

The wail of the Oxline approaching, a once welcome sound, rang eerily in the night as the last train from Killhouse arrived at the station. Pouring from the holds of the train came the foul mutants, early experiments of the disease and hordes of the LIFERS, the infected soldiers of Grandfather Nichols, and the heralds of this arrival. The assault was brutal and quick, and the survivors of the initial attack fled into town pursued by the strange creatures. Upgraded forms of the BUTCHERED they encountered in September, the Necrophage Mutants were simply the first wave of the attack.

As they spread the terror of the night, Grandfather Nichols arrived, accompanied by his chosen Lifer Primes, the most dangerous and deadly of his followers recruited from with the prisons of the Wailing Shores and Killhouse. With him was a riotous host of criminals and villains, those worthy of carrying his message of destruction to the town. Including the likes of Eyeless Jack, his protege and son, the former Lighthouse Keeper of Brownstone Island, Charlie Dales, the murderous drug dealer known as Sugargums, the duplicitous Knife-Tooth Jack, it was clear that the Nemesis doctor had a rogue’s gallery of assistance in his plot.

As the noose tightened, residents that attempted to find safety on the Ox found the cargo holds trapped and filled with explosives, locking down the primary escape by land from the town. Other attempts to flee to Anyport or Lake Bravado were met by Lifers and Necro-Soldiers cutting off escape by water. The trap was set, and the town was at the mercy of the invading forces of the Necrophage-infused killers, just in time for the INDULGENCE.

The Last indulgence

The Indulgence was a heretical Hedon ritual, celebrating an annual October release of prisoners from Killhouse, but it was canceled by the new Warden Moriarty starting this year. For the past three years, it had supposedly marked a reason for the Prison to exist, as long as you ignored how easily the prisoners were released into the Lone Star. Founded by the former Warden, Tabitha St. Mercy, the ritual was a night of macabre violence and murder that ignored the laws of the San Saba in favor of holy gluttony and wrath. After her removal from the role, it was thought that the “holiday” could be redeemed, and the night of death ended once and for all.

Besieging the town, Nichols declared that tonight would be the LAST INDULGENCE, a night of murder and terror where anyone that was not on his side would instead be a victim of the Necrophage. He spoke as if presenting to a stage, using the Tellingvisonary language of screen and movie to monologue his intent to the town. With him he carried dozens of vials of the Necrophage plague. With each vial, he would infect a new army to march with him to the homelands of the Lovelace Family, his hated enemy.

Nichols and his army swept across Bravado. Each time they found a resident of the town, they pounced on them with a vim and vigor of the zealot, knocking them into bleed out and vulnerable to the forced injections of the Necrophage. Survivor after survivor was dosed with the virulent plague, drug from their homes and tents to be subjected to the dangerous disease. A last stand of sorts took place at the Swaying Anker, the light of the Hedon bar standing as a last bastion of defense against the hordes of Lifers.

Eyeless Jack and his father swept the darkness, killing those that were strangely immune to his disease, and infecting others. With a sinuous command, Nichols drew out the defenders that succumbed to his strange compulsions one by one, executing them in front of the resistance at the Swaying Anker. The hoots and hollers of the Lifers echoed in the moonlit night, as the armies of Grandfather Nichols swept through the town virtually unopposed.

Those that fought back noticed a few of the Lifers stabilizing the victims of the assault. Some even strangely saved a few victims, subtly defying Nichols commands to execute the resistance. According to those subjected to the black ichor of the Necrophage, the disease needed time to settle int their systems before they could be turned once and for all into new Necro-Soldiers.

Eventually, the defense at the bar broke, and the few remaining survivors escaped into the darkness to try and survive the Last Indulgence. Nichols gathered a handful of survivors inside to preach his insane plan, describing the next steps of his plot like only a villainous madman could. It was “good TV” as he described it. Nichols insisted he would return in the morning, once the plague had had time to ravage their systems and render them ready for the black clouds of his Necrophage canisters and activating compounds.

As the screams of the dying were abruptly cut short across the town, the night quickly grew silent.

Understanding the Disease

In the early morning, after weathering the deadly nighttime assault from Killhouse, the town set itself to understanding more about the Necrophage.

The Necrophage Virus had incorporated elements carefully isolated and combined through a combination of mad genius, oldcestor technology, and the unique mutations of the Infection itself. The Necrophage was not a naturally occurring plague and incorporated elements of each of the unique diseases it mutates from. Each one added a trait to the disease that made it deadly than the original diseases.

From Bad Brain, the disease had gained control over the target's emotions and actions. With the base of Bloodscourge, a local plague contained within the strange undead hybrids that lurked in the tunnels underneath Bravado, added the ability for the disease to feed off the biomass of the victim, devouring their body from within. The mutation of Gutmother Bad Brain local to Bravado added a susceptibility to psionic compulsion, and the ability to effect the change between the Infectious Cycle and something else. Gutscourge's impact on the endocrine system created a way to sustain the disease on the body, bolstering the host with renewed vigor and near invulnerability. The final puzzle piece of Black Fungal Disease added the ability to hide the disease at early stages and used its violent reaction to air, using modified fungal spores to deploy the disease.

Underneath all of the diseases though was something else. Each time someone died of the Necrophage, something was changing in the world. The body was removed from the Infectious Cycle, and this transformation was powered by something not natural and something not quite a disease. The tie to Nichols was a pervasive and unique connection to something specific about the doctor’s bloodline. He had been PATIENT ZERO, purposefully infecting himself with the disease to cultivate it into his weapon. This tie that enabled the doctor to control his victims was tied to something deeper, something beyond death itself — some plan the town could not yet understand.

The miasma Spreads

True to his word, Grandfather Nichols returned to Bravado in the morning. This time the good doctor brought a new weapon with him - Necrophage Canisters, filled with the toxic black gas, a miasma of disease that activated the compound they had spread the night before. This new compound created an immediate response in those that had been infected during the assaults of that night and previous attacks by his advanced agents. The gas awoke something deeper in the victim, pushing them away from the cycle of life and death into a violence-fueled haze.

The rampage of Dr. Nichols started innocuously at first, but quickly grew violent. The doctor and his chief ally in the north, Charlie Dales, came into town with a small force of the Lifers of Killhouse. They worked meticulously, moving from building to building spreading the disease throughout the town. Resistance was met with extreme prejudice, as Nichols gave mocking smiles as he slit throats and killed the residents of Bravado. In his wake, a horde of zombies emerged from the morgues, as if in response to the sudden arrival of the Necrophage.

Nichols was attacked at the crossroads, but as one Tenderhorn drew his sights on the doctor, a honeyed word asked a favor. “Could I see your gun for a moment?” seemed like an innocent enough request, but the compulsion was not something he could resist. Looking over the rifle he claimed from the young man, Nichols grinned and thanked him for the new gift. For you see, Nichols was not only a talented graverobber and chemist, but he had portrayed a particular role as a Nemesis once before — the lone gunman, the Professional. With a single well placed shot, he had slain the Queen of the Tribes Disparate, and he was quite skilled with firearms.

The weapon he stole from the young man was of fine make. The master-crafted Mountain Rifle proved deadly in the hands of Nichols, as his talents as a Marksman were brought to bear on his enemies. The crack of a rifle shot rang out across the fields near the General Store as he opened fire, cutting down those that were fleeing with a well-placed shot into their backs. Each time he fired, a Vado fell bleeding, helpless as he approached. With a quick cut of his blade, their cries for help were cut short, even if they cursed his name as they died.

In his wake, were left bodies.

Violent Ends for Violent Delights

The next stage of Dr. Nichol’s attack manifested in an unexpected way. in addition to the threat of the bodies left behind by his rampage in the morning, new bodies began to appear. The infected bodies of those killed under the effects of Necrophage were used as viral weapons, deadly traps left behind to infect others. From over the tree lines could be heard the loud thumps of cannon fire from the direction of the lake. With sickening splats, the makeshift payloads of artillery delivered dead corpses into the town, each wrapped in blood-soaked rags. Perhaps they were the victims of the recent Killhouse attack brought with them, or the former residents of Drywater that had been caught by their wide-reaching attacks across the San Saba.

Regardless of WHO they were, the corpses presented a new challenge. Each was filled to the brim with the Necrophage, and even simply moving or investigating the bodies without proper protection was enough to infect someone with the disease. The cannon fire continued throughout the morning and afternoon, spreading the disease ridden bodies throughout the town. Fire proved somewhat useful to burn the bodies, but the smoke created by the burning threatened to spread the disease further. The protection of a Helscape suit was sometimes enough, but only if the doctor was careful not to make direct contact with the bodily fluids of the corpse.

Each person that died of the Necrophage would continue to spread the plague. Spread across a more densely packed population like Essex, these makeshift viral bombs would be deadly. Clearly, Nichols was deploying the corpses of purpose, to continue the assault on the town that he hated.Even worse, the local zed and wildlife began encountering the corpses if they were not caught by the residents of Bravado first.

Once the dangerous Murder Goat Deer, Armordillos, and even the Leviathans within the lake consumed the poisonous bags of flesh and blood, the disease mutated further to begin infecting new creatures and enemies. Soon, scouts in the forests reported an encounter with a massive Necrophage-crazed critter, equally invulnerable as it tore apart several hunters. Several Leviathan whelps exhibited the strange cannibalistic tendencies of the Necrophage, feeding on a sailor that had been caught off guard. There were even isolated reports of plant growths near the lake, with spreading purple-black veins of fungus growing across them.

In the wake of the bombardment, a particularly brave Tellingvisionary named Doc Thomas managed to catch attention of Grandfather Nichols. Appealing to his vanity and faith, Thomas challenged the madman to explain his plan through a monologue, as the old scriptures foretold.

And Nichols obliged.

VILLAINS LOVE A GOOD MONOLOGUE

Lured into talking by Doc Thomas, Grandfather Nichols laid out a chilling certainty to a group of survivors that gathered to hear his plan. As an acolyte of the Late-Late Show, the Nemesis was honor bound to explain his plan to those that politely asked. Nichols explained that during his capture of Killhouse, they had employed a unique side effect of the Necrophage. While he had managed to turn a number of guards and Lifers in the prison, there wasn’t nearly enough time to infect each single resident with the inject-able versions of the plague. However, an experiment in the Brownstone Islands had revealed that when exposed to the toxic fumes of the Necrophage Canisters for a long enough period, ANYONE could be infected by the disease.

With enough of his chemical, he could simply blanket the town in the miasma and fog of the Necrophage and even those that had manifested a resistance to the disease would be turned into loyal soldiers. During the fall of Killhouse, they had simply pumped the chemical into the ancient air circulation systems and spread the black clouds of gas through out the entire prison. While he had been enjoying the random murders of the morning, he was simply biding his time.

His son and the other Lifer Primes were working to bring in a vast quantity of the Necrophage compound to Bravado by the lake, using ships they captured in the Junkerpunk port of Drywater. The canisters used a similar reaction as sodium chloride, and when exposed to water it created an immediate reaction that converted the concentrated chemical into the gaseous form they had been using throughout the morning. Once the compound was in place, they would simply use the LAKE itself to create enough of the Necrophage to infect the entire town of Bravado.

Nichol’s master plan was to END the cycle of life itself. As he explained to Thomas, once the “story” of this world was brought to an end, the god of the Tellingvisionaries known as the SIGNAL would be able to finally begin again. All good stories must end, he claimed. If he could not get the revenge he sought on the Lovelace family this time, he would simply end the lives of every single person in this world. Once the last breath was a distant memory, his plan would be complete. Even his death would be a meager price to pay to enact the will of the Signal to begin again.

When challenged, Nichols was unconcerned about their threats to stop his plan. Nothing they did to stop the Necrophage would rob him of his triumph, as his plan had layers they did not understand. Thomas pressed further, picking at the threads of the disease to understand more about Nichol’s plan. He asked Nichols to explain the various components of the disease, digging into the connection between the disease and something beyond.

With a cruel smile, Nichols explained his “Plan B”. Each time someone died of the Necrophage, there was a strange thing that happened. In the moments before their death, the energies of the Necrophage connected to something, or somewhere, else. The surge of energy that exploded from the infected in their final throes was powered by something darker, something connected to a place beyond death, to the Abyss itself. Each death fueled a new ABYSSAL RIFT. These tears in reality had become more commonplace since the Archon incursion at the Greenhouse, but there had never been as many concentrated in one place before. This connection to a place beyond would attract a hunger from beyond our world to consume everything. All Dr. Nichols had to do was infect enough targets with the Necrophage, and the scales would be tipped towards chaos. If he could not kill everyone with the Necrophage, the beings from beyond, the OUTSIDERS, would finish the job for him.

Maybe he was just mad. Maybe not.

But the Vados couldn’t risk finding out. They needed a plan to stop him. And thanks to the boasts of Nichols, they now knew he planned on enacting his plan at midnight, so the clock was ticking.

The Clock Starts Ticking

Still reeling from the constant assault on the town, a few of the residents of Bravado began trying to evacuate a few of the wounded and helpless citizens out of the town. With the trap quickly closing on the town, anyone that could not easily defend themselves would become a liability if left to succumb to Nichol’s plague. Gathering a number of farmers, they made for the Ox, left curiously abandoned at the Terminal Station Depot after the arrival of Nichols and his army the night before.

They soon found out why the Ox had been left alone.

Inside the rail cars were once was secured a vast number of barrels, leaking the noxious black liquid of the Necrophage was a final gift left behind by Grandfather Nichols. Connected to one of the cargo cars was a massive series of bombs, secured by the mad doctor’s agents the night before, all tied into a massive corpse of some strange beast. The burden of the beast, a contagious corpse was rigged to explode, would be more than capable of activating the chemicals in the train and removing a route of escape from the town. Once Nichol’s final plan was put into motion, they would be trapped in the town unless they could disarm the pyroclastic bomb.

A group of Vados set to removing wires, draining canisters, and dismantling the corpse. The process was as dangerous as it was delicate. Complicating things further, a crowd of onlookers had gathered to see the spectacle of the trap on the Ox. If they failed to disarm the bomb, there would be a new wave of Necro-soldiers recruited to Doc Nichol’s cause.

A shout rose from within the crowd, as a Law Dog confronted a citizen within the throng. There was a flash of metal as the Law Dog went down in a bloody spray, the concealed Lifer Prime attacking from his hidden position. With a battle cry, he charged at the technicians working to try to disarm the deadly bomb. Thanks to the quick thinking of one of the Vados, who used their shield to knock the Lifer off his feet, the attempt to disrupt the disarming was delayed, and they closed ranks to protect from any other hidden agents in the crowd.

The Law Dogs spread out, questioning the populace. One by one, the agents of chaos were identified and drove out of the Depot. Despite their Necrophage-infused strength, the collective might of the resistance was enough to drive them back. Their friends frantically cut wires and severed tendons of the corpse to shut off the bomb before any fail safe was activated. The minutes drug on under the assault on the Ox, but a final cheer arose from the defenders as the bomb was finally defeated and deactivated. The few remaining Necrophage soldiers escaped, frustrated by the defense of the Oxline, but they were clearly headed back to Nichols.

While the bomb had been defused, the Oxline was once again operational, but it would take time to evacuate the town. Time they didn’t have unless they found a way to counteract the Necrophage.

Bring out the Big Guns

The constant thump of mortars from near the lake presented the next target for the Vados to fight back against the invading army of Necro-soldiers. Gathering some of their best fighters, they would assault a fortified position near the lake and attempt to silence Nichol’s weapons. While one group attacked on the land, another would take a small boat to infiltrate the captured Junkerpunk ship that was preparing to dump vast quantities of the Necrophage into the lake.

The land team quietly moved into a position to attack the Necro-soldiers that were busy unloading a new shipment of the Necrophage compound near Punkerport. The Lifers had cannibalized a new RRC mass irrigation system to use to spread the Necrophage. The system was designed to evaporate water from the lake for improving farming yields, but it was being adapted to catalyze the Necrophage into the aerosol gases that Nichols would use to blanket Bravado with the infectious compounds.

At their lead of the mercenaries was one of the Lifer Primes, the Necrophage-infested shock troopers already progressed into the disease. At their side were several of the Butchered, the Necro-mutants that Juliet Butcher had released after the fall of the Manufactorum the month prior. The Vados attacked with a ferocity borne of desperation and anger, eager to strike back at the foes that had run roughshod over the town throughout the evening and morning.

The Lifer Primes were dangerous enemies, capable of withstanding a massive amount of trauma and damage. However, they were still people and still mostly in charge of their own faculties, unlike the more common Necro-soldier. They responded to taunts, and their confidence in their new abilities could be used against them. They were tough, but they could only be in one place at a time. By diverting their attention, a group of the quicker Vados could sneak past the main fighting to get to the mortars.

Nichols’ soldiers were using large bore mortars, most likely stolen from Drywater or RRC stores and had been modified to propel the infectious remains of a pyroclastic necro-soldier. The soldiers operating the cannons were surrounded and cut down before they could use the strange black syringes to advance their own disease. In the chaos of the attack, the Lifer Primes had not yet realized the Vados had achieved their goal.

As the Prime reached a transition, with the Necrophage rewriting his body into a personal morgue and making immune to any wound for a short time, the Vados moved into position to protect those escaping with the mortars. While the Lifer Prime was caught in the frenzy of blood lust from the disease, they pressed the attack. Blow and blow rained down on the Lifer, forcing him once more into the personal morgue. It was an arduous process, but the Lifer did not have the same dangerous skills as Grandfather Nichols. With clever tactics and shields to deflect their attacks, they could prevent the Lifer from begin able to focus their attacks on any one Vado, thus robbing them of the wounded to feed the furnace burning them from the inside out.

The purple veins on the Lifer grew more prominent each time the Necrophage devoured his very Infection to fuel its unholy processes. There was a chill in the air not quite the result of the breeze across the lake, but it culminated in a terrible revelation. The Lifer’s eyes grew black, as he entered the personal morgue a final time. The Necrophage bled through his eyes, his ears, as his tongue swelled in his mouth. A crackle of psionic energy was building, and the Lifer realized pitifully the cost he was about to pay. With a crack of thunder, the abyssal energies poured from the Lifer in a massive explosion, leveling the remaining Necro-soldiers and Vado alike.

In the eerie silence and vacuum after the deadly explosion, the Vados administered injectable brews to quickly recover from the blast and began dispatching the remaining soldiers before they could recover themselves. The battle was won, but the cost of defeating even one Lifer was massive. If they had to deal with a dozen of these monstrosities at once, no one would survive the massacre.

A vision of the future

While the Lifer Prime was engaged on the ground, a second team had committed to an assault on a captured vessel across the lake. Some sailors had spotted Necrophage soldiers and Mercenaries transporting odd equipment and supplies all around the lake. The bulk of Nichol’s mind-controlled army was using the port at Drywater to enable their assault. While the Junkerpunks were still fighting against the Necrosoldiers, they had lost several vessels to the sudden attack and the port was in the hands of the Lifers. Each Necrosoldier was a serious threat and there were far too many to deal with at once. The attack on Drywater also served as a way to prevent escape from Bravado by the water, as they could easily assault any fleeing vessels trying to escape Nichol’s revenge.

One of the captured transport ships had moved from the more protected landing at Drywater and was moving towards Bravado. This was the target of the small band of Bluejackets and privateers, eager to strike back at those that attacked their friends at Drywater. The ominous vessel moved closer, and it was clear that it was loaded with the ichorous black plague of Necrophage. Like the decrepit vessel that Nichol’s had landed at Brownstone Island, the ship was sparsely manned, but the dangerous necro-soldiers were no easy target.

The waters of Lake Bravado are treacherous in the best of conditions. From oil-slick sinuous Leviathan whelps, to the teeming masses of the undead, simply navigating across the lake was task that challenged the most skilled sailor. The pollution in the lake had even led to some monstrous mutations of the Leviathan spawn left behind after the death of the Grave Leviathan last year. The captain of the vessel barked orders to the crew, as they evaded boarding zed and sandbars that would slow their vessel down long enough for the Leviathans to sink them.

Trusting to the skill of the Bluejackets, each time the ship was assaulted, they moved as one to balance the ship and repel the grasping hands of the undead. If they encountered a sand bar, they quickly pushed back against the obstruction, freeing their vessel before the tentacles of the Leviathan could catch them. Once they had drawn close enough to the commandeered Junkerpunk hauler, they grabbed mooring lines to clamber up the side of the ship.

The ambush on the ship was over quickly, thanks to the skill of the sailors involved. The soldiers on the ship had not yet gained the complete protection of the Necrophage, as they had been chosen to haul the infectious cargo because of their limited exposure to the compound. Lining up a few of the surviving mercenary crew that were incapacitated by their surprise attack, the Bluejackets questioned them about what they knew about Nichol’s plot to poison the lake. The mercenaries were addled by the strange compulsions of the Nemesis doctor, but they confirmed the worst fears of the Vados. Once enough of the compound was in place, they would dump the poisonous chemical into the waters of Lake Bravado at midnight, creating a massive cloud of the infectious black Necrophage smoke that would blanket the town and convert anyone for miles into the unwilling thralls of the Nemesis.

The team also implemented the first test of a potential cure for Necrophage. The canisters of the plague were concentrated bits of the compound, but the scientists and doctors in town had discovered a curious reaction of the Necrophage solutions to the mysterious ore known as Amaranthite. The purplish ore was thought to be some kind of precipitate of the Grave Mind, created by the radiation of morgues, particularly those close to Bravado. The crystalline ore had been collected by miners under the morgue, but the theory was that since the Necrophage removed the victims from the Infectious Cycle, something so inherently tied to the Grave Mind and the Cycle like Amaranthite would be able to counteract the poison.

The ore was placed into the vats of the toxin, and the reaction was immediate. The foul smoke they expected from the Necrophage was non-existent as the mysterious ore seemed to absorb and neutralize the chemical. Placing handfuls of the Amaranthite into the dangerous cargo, they were able to remove the threat of the chemicals on board, but as they peered across the lake they could see countless more ships being loaded with the plague at Drywater. The small amount of the ore was sufficient for the task at hand, but if they were to neutralize the threat of Necrophage they would need considerably more.

One of the Vados applying the Amaranthite to the Necrophage canisters suddenly went still and began mumbling to themselves as if talking to a ghost or some specter that the others could not see. The Amaranthite in their hands seemed to glow of its own accord, and they awoke from their trance with a sudden gasp. They spoke of a young man named Eight who had appeared to them, a shadow of the Grave Mind shard that made up the Eightfold Mother. The vision spoke of a dire future, a PYROCLASM of destruction that was building because of Nichol’s plan. If they couldn’t stop the mad doctor, the Eightfold Mother foretold a future where town after town vanished in a pillar of black smoke, the endless churning forces of Nichols building into an unstoppable wave across the wastes.

But the Amaranthite was the key. It had worked. It was the weapon they needed.

The Tide Turns

The success of their first attack at the lake had not only secured new weapons to use against Nichols and his Lifers but had also revealed the power of the mysterious ore known as Amaranthite. With some effort (and safety first, of course) the mortars they captured could be repurposed for a mode of personal locomotion and possible projectile battering ram. The newfangled Morgue metal might make major munitions modifications possible too.

The Techno Savants and artisans of the town set to work trying to devise weaponry to use against Nichols. While Amaranthite was in short supply, the first issue was trying to find some way to shape the mysterious ore into something more usable. The Mortis crystals were harder than most metal alloys and equally challenging to work at a forge. They would need some heat source greater than they had access to metal the precipitate into something that could coat weapons and artillery shells.

While the town was focused on the threat of the Necro-soldiers, there were still many other dangerous things in the wastes, including spider raiders, zed, and other monsters. One of the Sweetwater scouts of the San Saba Republic had reported a crashed Stormchaser Raider ship on the outskirts of Bravado that might be the solution they needed. The airborne Raider clan were pests that threatened the flying city of Waking Prime and other airship traffic near Essex, and they utilized strange storm engines that propelled their ramshackle vessels towards their targets. Part oldcestor technology scavenged from Waking and part raider engineering that somehow managed to function, the storm engines produced a vast output of heat and electrical energy, so much that no intelligent crew would never risk the radiation and burns from the engines to use themselves. But a crashed ship would do just fine as a makeshift forge to heat up the Amaranthite.

When a team of Vados went after the storm engines, the scent of ozone, hot metal, and the odd scent of burning spoiled meat permeated the air at the crash site. An engine from a Stormchaser Raider rudimentary airship was sparking at random intervals and spewing large clouds of smoke that could be seen for miles. A sizeable number of the strange Raiders was gathered, caught in some ecstatic worship of the “storm forge”, or perhaps they were simply protecting the fallen ship until their clan could arrive. Eager for a fight with an enemy not so resistant to their assault, the Vados fell on the Stormchasers and routed the Raiders with overwhelming force. They fought back against the scraptionist-minded raiders and secured the crash site after a short fight. With the heat of the storm engine, they could smelt and weld the Amaranthite into coatings for weapons and bullets alike. Given the effect the ore had on the Necrophage itself, it would be a valuable asset for the upcoming confrontation with Nichols.

A few of the doctors in town had also successfully tested using Amaranthite in poultices and healing brews to treat Necrophage affected patients. The mysterious ore could be crushed into fragments and had some curative properties that halted the spread of the disease in a victim. While it could not cure it due to some resistance of the plague, it was a step in the right direction. Based on their research, it was probable that the disease was tied to both Grandfather Nichols and his Lifer Primes. When he had previously spread the disease known as Gutscourge in Bravado, the disease was perpetuated by some peculiar trait of his blood and the sonic vibrations of the Gravebells he had used. It was likely that any cure for Necrophage would be ineffective until they could stop Nichols once and for all.

One of the last new weapons in the fight against Nichols came from a madcap idea to protect the users of the Mortars they had stolen. By using the Amaranthite to harden an artillery shell, they could effectively “launch” a living survivor in the air instead of a Necrophage corpse. The Original Sweetwater Hurt-less Amaranthite Hard Hat could enable them to bombard the Lifers with deadly Amaranthite shells and deliver their own people into the fray. The human projectile would likely survive the impact (hopefully) but there was no shortage of Vados willing to risk the process for the thrill of discovery and the rush of a new experience.

First Blood

The ingenuity of the survivors in Bravado was beginning to offer a glimmer of hope in the face of the continual assaults of Lifers and Doc Nichols. However, in order to stop the plan to release the Necrophage at midnight, they would need a LOT more of the mysterious ore to fuel their resistance. A telegram to Felicity Redfield offered a potential balm for the problem. The San Saba Board had also been collecting the Amaranthite ore from other sites throughout the region, and they were going to send back a large amount of the priceless ore when the Ox returned for the next load of evacuees.

However, it was certain that Nichols would try to intercept the Oxline once it got near Bravado. He was still intent on preventing escape from the Necrophage at midnight, and it would be important for him to attempt to control the Oxline to cut off their evacuation attempts. When the ore arrived, they would need to ready for an attack by Nichols himself and his Lifer Primes. If they could beat Nichols to the ore, they would have enough to neutralize any Necrophage the Lifers brought via the lake as well as equip their stolen Mortars with Amaranthite-infused ammunition.

Gathering the few Amaranthine weapons they had created, they decided to set a trap for Nichols at the Depot. When he arrived, they would find the Vados armed with a surprise of their own. Once the team had been assembled, they gathered their brews, their augments, doctors and priests alike, and laid in wait. After several minutes passed, long after when the train should have arrived, they realized something was wrong. A lonesome wail of the Oxline siren rang through the air, but instead of the familiar welcoming sound pulling into the station, it was some distance away up the rail-line towards Essex. The train had been intercepted just outside of Bravado.

Nichols had beaten them to their prize!

Racing to the station on the outskirts of town, the Vados found the villainous Nemesis and his cadre of Lifer Primes in wait, busy unloading the shipment of Amaranthite from Essex. The Lifers had secured the cargo first, and there was no sign of the RRC employees they were supposed to meet, likely slain during the makeshift train robbery. Cackling, Dr. Nichols turned his attention to the Vados who were scattered and winded by the race to the station. He ordered his Lifers to guard the shipment while he dealt with the interlopers personally.

Counting on the doctor taking things into his own hands, the Vados intercepted him at the train platform while a group of stealthier survivors blended into the shadows and moved towards the crates of ore stacked on near the tracks. Nichols and his Lifers charged into the line of Vados, cutting down anyone in his path. They stayed just out of the reach of the Nemesis, luring him away from the precious ore while trying to keep his attention. One by one, the Lifers guarding the ore started to notice that a box of mysterious ore was missing. When they turned to face a flanker that rushed the line, one of the hidden townsfolk darted forward and claimed another crate of the Amaranthite.

A few of the Vados with Amaranthine weapons focused on the Lifer Prime with Nichols, their newly empowered swords cutting through the abyssal armor offered by the disease. Even in the midst of the personal morgue, the Necro-soldiers were vulnerable to the peculiar Mortis metal. Each strike cut into them and hastened the process towards the eventual pyroclastic explosion as the last of his infection was consumed by the Necrophage. There was a crack of explosion, but the Vados fell back before any of their number were felled by the blast, leaving a furious and shocked Nichols behind.

One of the Vados named Ash was caught as the townsfolk fell back, fleeing back towards Bravado. Nichols was furious, and drug her into town to demand answers. It wasn’t “good TV” to simply execute her in the darkness of the train station. Someone had to see her die. As he carried her to the Sin Sa Bar, Ash could tell that Nichol’s mind was racing. He was panicked. Perhaps even scared. For once during the invasion, Nichols had been caught off guard by their resistance. The Amaranthite weapons were capable of harming him and stopping his Necro-soldiers. Once at the bar, Nichols wasted no time in slitting Ash’s throat, sending the few Vados there in a panicked run back to town to find a Lifebinder.

The Nemesis fled into the night, now more determined than ever to finish what he had started before the town was able to stop him.

The march to lake bravado

The hour was drawing close and despite the win at the train station, the town was still bracing for the final assault of the Lifers and Grandfather Nichols. Scouts had reported his remaining Lifers and Necro-soldiers were massing on the shores of Lake Bravado. They would need to stop them from spreading their plague into the waters of the lake, but they would also need to deal with the Lifer Primes. Even if their weapons managed to pierce the amaranthine armor of the disease, the pyroclastic explosions would decimate both sides. Those protected by the curious advantages of the disease might survive the blast, but that would leave many of their friends vulnerable to a quick end at the hands of the Nemesis doctor.

More so, while Nichols has been harmed by the Amaranthine weapons they deployed at the train station, he was still protected by his disease. While he noticed the attacks, he healed as fast as he was injured. Something was regenerating him and keeping from fearing a true death. Research provided by the Butcher suggested that the key to defeating the disease was dealing with both Nichols AND his followers. As long as a Lifer Prime remained, they would be unable to seriously injure Nichols. Thus, the doctors of Bravado developed a new tool in their arsenal.

It would be battlefield medicine at its worst, but with a slapdash application of Amaranthite and the right finesse a single person sized triage area could be set up to force a Lifer to be healed of the Necrophage. It wouldn’t be pretty, or clean, but it would provide them room to work even in the midst of the assault at the lake, provided they could incapacitate one of the Lifer Primes. However, they would need to deal with the pyroclastic brain tumor in their head. Previous attempts to heal someone of the Necrophage had resulted in the tumor exploding prematurely with violent psionic energy. They could mute the detonation by focusing biokinetic energy into the triage area, but it would be challenging to complete the procedure in the middle of the upcoming fight.

They would also need to deal with the strange contraptions they had once again brought to the shores of Lake Bravado. While the sophisticated machines were capable of turning the Necrophage catalyst into the infectious black clouds of smoke, they were delicate devices. And what are ‘Vados better at than breaking stuff? According to the the brave few that scouted ahead of the Bravado mob, the machines had a bunch of spindly bits, whirring bits, and tube-y bits that would be prime targets to be busted the fuck up.

They had also crafted a dozen of the Amaranthite OSHA suits to propel someone into the fight, and dozens of the Amaranthite-infused blades and cudgels. With careful targeting, the blast would be capable of stunning one of the Lifers. The shells would let them capture the Lifers and secure them for the battlefield triage. If they could keep Nichols busy, they could eliminate the Lifers one by one until they could deal with the Nemesis himself.

The Vados would also weaponize the disease itself against Nichols. While the Necrophage hastened the demise of the victims, it would also provide that same invulnerability to those that rode the edge of oblivion. As long as they dealt with Nichols and made a cure possible, those infected could exploit the abilities of the disease to their own advantaged, provided they didn’t burn through their own Infection too quickly. Several of the townsfolk purposefully advanced their disease, turning themselves into a powerful counter to the Lifer Primes.

With artillery support of their own, the largest shield wall the town had seen since the fall of Old Bravo, the citizens of Bravado and the greater wastes marched down the long path to Lake Bravado.

With research, new weapons, dedication, and a significant amount of overconfidence, it was time to live the plan of “Fuck Around and Find Out” to the fullest. One way or another, it would be a massacre.

the Midnight Massacre

As the citizens of Bravado marched to down the long lake path towards Lake Bravado, they were surprised to find that Grandfather Nichols had set the stage for the final confrontation.

Literally.

Whether it was through some trick of faith or something else entirely, the field of battle was as brightly lit as if it was some oldcestor television production. Somehow lights backlit the makeshift “stage” of the open field a Punkerport as the town descended the slope to the lake. Spotlights shone on a lone figure standing at the waterline, his bowler hat casting a large shadow towards the approaching force of Vados. The stage was set, and the villain was ready for his monologue.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the studio audience, boys and girls, it’s time for the finale, the main event! Our story tonight is how the tiny town of Bravado tried its best to fight fate…”

Even in the dark, you could see the gleam behind the mad Nemesis’ eyes. His mirrored spectacles somehow shone in the dark, the white of his crisply pressed shirt gleaming in the moonlight.

“… and failed. Come one, come all to witness the doom of Bravado, the last gasps of a people that just. will. not. die.”

Nichols gave a shout, and from the shadows at the edge of the lake emerged his perfect army of Necrophage-ridden soldiers. The last of the inhabitants of Killhouse drafted into his service to commit a holy massacre in the name of the Nemesis’ perverted faith. They had completely abandoned their foothold in Drywater to commit to one last attack. Within the horde of Lifers shone the sickly glow of his Lifer Primes, six of his most ruthless killers gathered to lead the forces into battle. They were gleaming in the darkness with the pallid energy of the Necrophage, the purple veins crawling along their body like a living thing.

At his side was also one of their own. Tenacity Lovelace, one of the few surviving members of the Lovelace Family in town was growling and pacing at the side of the Nemesis. Green and purple veins crawled up her neck, the evidence of the Necrophage robbing her of her free will and driving her to aid the slayer of her family. She was compelled to fight alongside Nichols, though her sobs could not be contained. She was an unwilling pawn, but just as deadly as any of the Lifer Primes, because many of the Vados could not bring themselves to attack her for fear of killing her.

As the Lifers charged across the field, the boom of the artillery sounded the opening salvo of the attack. Propelled by the makeshift cannons, a few foolhardy Vados launched themselves into the battle as the shield wall of Bravado advanced grimly forward. Sword clashed against shield as the two opposing forces met in the field, blood soaking the grass as the first of the Necro-soldiers reached the line of Vados.

Grandfather Nichols was a holy terror, propelled forward by his faith. Every swing dropped an enemy, his wide arcing piercing strikes cutting through armor and flesh alike. Bullets ricocheted off of him as if hitting steel, and blows glanced off him like he was covered in the finest armor known to the wastes. He was an unstoppable juggernaut, carving into his hated foes with a scalpel like precision. He stalked menacingly through the fray, cutting down anyone in his way, friend or foe. A group of the Necrophage infected Vados met him, turning his own disease into a potent weapon to distract him while the rest of the town went to work on the plan. Nichols was desperate, but it was the desperation of a caged tiger, eager to feed.

The Amaranthite weapons worked as intended, the Mortis ore cutting through the defenses of the Lifer Primes and the Necro-soldier alike. While the weapons seemed to harm Nichols at first, any time someone fell in the fight, he was there like a vulture, hacking into their flesh, the primordial siphon consuming their very imprint. With each consumption, his wounds were healed, his vigor restored, and he was as refreshed as if the battle has just begun.

The medics set up the temporary triage bays along the sloping road, using the wall of shields in front of them to offer some protection from the ravaging hordes. The artillery shots sniped out one Lifer Prime at a time, as a team of Vados circled the wounded foe with Amaranthite cleavers and took them down. Once they were helpless, they drug the captured Lifer back to the doctors to be forcibly healed of the Necrophage running through their veins. The captured Lifers cried out to Nichols for help, and as he realized what the Vados were doing, the Nemesis strode through the shield wall like it was not there and into the back line of medics. It was brutal, as Nichols carved into the defenders, murdering the wounded and medics alike.

They needed a distraction.

A shaky but committed voice rose out of the brutal combat, a challenge to Nichols to turn and fight by Mikhail, the Red Star. The Red Star had led to his capture during his last crusade against Bravado, but this time he would not be so lucky, each strike from Nichols cutting through his armor and shield like butter. As the Nemesis was drawn away by the rival, the medics set back to work, frantically trying to finish their work before he could return for another murderous pass. One by one, the pallid glow of the Lifer Primes were snuffed out. Nichols was unstoppable, but he was caught in a rage and easily distractable. As long as the townsfolk could stay out of the reach of his long arms and piercing blade, they could draw him back and forth across the field while their peers focused on his lieutenants. A cry went up from near the waterline as the stealthiest of the Vados finished their work disabling the machines that Nichols had planned to use to disperse the chemicals into the lake. Brute force against the delicate machinery worked exactly as they hoped.

As the Lifer Primes were sedated and killed by the process of the Amaranthine cure, the tide of the battle seemed to shift. With each death of a Lifer, it seemed like Nichols was slowing. Even the death of Tenacity, gently held down as the cure took her last breath and sent her to the Grave Mind, was like a hammer to the Nemesis. When the last of the Lifer Primes was dispatched, Nichols began more targeted strikes on his attackers. He aimed for weak points, for the wounded, drawing from their deaths to fuel his massacre. The mortar fire began dialing in on the Nemesis’s position, raining shells against him as he stood firm against the assault. But then his eyes grew wide as he took in the state of the battle. All around him lay the slain Necro-soldiers, the torn apart corpses of the Butchered mutants, and many more angry Vados than the remaining Lifers. And he was bleeding.

The blades of the Vados focused on Nichols. As he finally began to reach a state of the personal morgue, the disease ravaging his body turning inwards at last to feast on his Infection. Each time his body re-knit it self, he exploded with an abyssal force, each lost Infection striking with the force of a small bomb in the area around him. Each time he ruptured, the Necrophage-protected Vados screamed in defiance, driving him back. He began shouting “NO! THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING!” as the enormity of his failure began to set in on the Nemesis.

He fell to one knee, then rose once more with the reciprocal force of the disease temporarily driving back the Vados. He struck blindly, trying to take someone down so he could feed on their imprint, but he was surrounded by shields and the Vados’ own Necro-soldiers. He fell once more, the blows of the townsfolk raining down on him, tearing into his flesh, cutting through the diamond-hard protection of the Necrophage. His eyes went wide as the the purple veins of the Necrophage began creeping up his neck, choking him of oxygen, devouring the biomass, and reaching for his brain. Nichols screamed in frustration, in bitter rage, before he suddenly threw his head back in a wordless, dying scream of agony.

The world went white as Dr. Hannibal Nichols-Lovelace exploded one last time in a titanic abyssal pulse.

With a Whimper, not a Bang

The silence of the lake was deafening.

The Nemesis was down for good. A smoking ruin of a corpse was all that remained, his grey beard all that was recognizable amid the swollen and desiccated body. His corpse lay trapped in a final scream, a scar on the ground left by the tear in reality as he died. The massive pulse of abyssal energies had laid low the entire battlefield, and brought a resolute finish to the fighting.

With the defeat of Doc Nichols, the remaining Lifers that could walk either fled in terror or were hunted down as they bled to death. Whatever will they had to fight faded after seeing their leader die, the unnatural compulsion ending upon Nichols drawing his last breath. The strange power of Nichol’s Tellingvisionary faith that kept the stage lit for the finale faded to nothing, and the night was dark once more. The threatened black clouds of his revenge had not manifested, as the contaminating agents of the plague had been neutralized before they could be spread into the water of Lake Bravado.

Some of the survivors took the quiet moment to heal their wounds and take stock of the dead. Dozens had died in the combat, cut down by Nichols and his Lifer Primes but they had managed to kill and stop each of the Lifers that were assisting the Nemesis with his plan. Others still took advantage of an Daline Osteotome to draw out a few last questions from the corpse of Hannibal Nichols, hoping that there was enough spark left in his brain to answer the graverobber’s questions.

Doc Thomas and the others asked three questions of the dead Nemesis, prodding into the quickly decaying brain for answers. They asked about his remaining family, his employers, and who had helped him with his plot. The corpse rasped out cryptic answers to their requests, but after the procedure was done the body seemed to suddenly move. Like his previous encounter with death in Bravado, Nichols had one last trick up his sleeve - a Nemesis Surprise. Like the horror movie icons he worshiped, Nichols drew one last breath long enough to reach out and slay one last victim with his dying act, even when he appeared dead and gone. The screams of surprise as the supposedly dead Nemesis mimicked the last vestiges of life echoed in the darkness, but it was as over as quickly as it started. Luckily, the twisted protection of the Necrophage stopped Wicker, a Natural One from the Sequoia Wastes, from meeting an untimely end. It was an ironic escape, as the stoic natural one sat stunned by the force of his final strike. His defense of using the doctor’s own disease to stop his final, spiteful attack was the only thing that saved him.

With a rasping last breath the doctor was well and truly dead. One last phrase escaped his rotting lips as his corpse rapidly began to fall apart into purplish fungus and rotting tissues. It was a chilling prophecy, perhaps speaking of what he saw before he died a final death. His eyes glazed over for a final time, as the words he spoke brought contemplative and terrifying silence to the masses gathered over his corpse.

THEY ARE COMING…

The crowd returned to town, somewhat uncertain in their victory. A few brave souls claimed trophies of Doc Nichols, with his hat, his weapons, and the contents of his pockets quickly being hidden into pockets and supply bags.

Questions still remained, though.

Had the doctor’s death attracted the attention of beings beyond death? Who was his last words referring to? Who exactly on the San Saba Board had funded the research into the plague of the Necrophage, and secured the Nemesis’ release from the prisons of Brownstone Island? Did they destroy all of the Necrophage catalyst, or did Nichols secret away some stockpile for later? What did his last words mean? The Pyroclasm foretold by the Grave Mind had been averted for now, but was the threat truly over?

The body of Doctor Hannibal Nichols-Lovelace was left rotting at the lake, the disease managed, his revenge once again stopped, and the final scene of his masterpiece concluded. They would return in the morning to burn the corpse, but for the moment, they could look up and enjoy a moment of peace under the stars of the Lonestar Skies…

Other Threads of Notes - The Pyroclasm

  • The Queen Emerges - Even with the Necrophage on everyone’s mind, other threats still stalk the dark corners of Bravado. Dangerous Recluse Nest Raiders, spider-loving raiders that coated their weapons in poison and built nests of webbing in the trees, had been harassing Bravado since the end of the Burning Season. The Raiders were hunting for people to bring back to their nest and they even managed to capture a few of the errant Necro-soldiers during the invasion. With the necrotic bodies of the soldiers threatening to infect anyone they caught, they posed a menace that had to be burned out. There were even scattered reports of a mutated Raider with the features of a spider, her claws coated in poison and a stinger that could fell even the toughest combatant. While the nests were destroyed, it is not known what exactly happened to this strange Raider Queen.

  • Pages of Pallid Glory - Despite the threat of Nichols, a local RRC archeologist arrived into town with a strange artifact they planned to dedicate to the library in town. After being accosted by Headhunter raiders as they arrived, the Archeologist escaped with their life but not their ancient Barogian artifacts. The strange stone tablet had the script of the Prince Undying, the last survivor of old Barogue, carved into the surface and it radiated a haunting power to those that were faithful. One must wonder who else might be interested in obtaining these relics and artifacts of the lost city of Barogue.

  • The Prophet of Cutthroat Alley - In the aftermath of the Necrophage massacre, the Prophet of Cutthroat Alley; a mutated psion named Caleb Lovelace, visited Bravado on a mission of mercy. Caleb was known for a prominent psionic crystal growth on his face and body and being the son of the late Pfilomena Lovelace, the former leader of a Grave Mind cult in Essex He brought a number of supplies from Essex to help the town recover and heal the wounded, along with two of the strange cultists that had worshiped the Grave Mind during the Fountainhead Incident. These attendants spoke of a great resurrection, when the former leader of the Cult of the Tiny God would return once more to save the San Saba. Their faith was unquestionable, though they spoke of another cultist named Sister Greywand as the source of the prophecy.

  • The Butcher & New Employment - After the fall of Killhouse, the Lifers were either drafted into Nichol’s army of Necro-soldiers or killed in the resistance. With Adam Moriarty, the Warden of Killhouse, thought dead or missing, it was curious to see that Juliet Butcher was unconcerned about her future employment. The mad scientist clearly already had new employers, though no one would speak of the exact details of her arrangement outside of a few hushed warnings to not inquire further.

  • The Betrayal of Eyeless Jack - The son of Grandfather Nichols had made a friend in town, the postwalker named Abe Callaghan. After meeting him on the deserted road in the middle of the night, Jack murdered the poor young man after an argument, leaving him to die in the road before his friends could reach him. The unstable Nemesis was clearly torn by the murder of the Baywalker and left town shortly after. Jack was not seen at the massacre at the lake that next night and when asked about his absence, Nichols has described that his son was a traitor that had abandoned his family. The spawn of Nichols is still at large, as he escaped the fate of the other Lifers that were killed in the finale.

Wrap Up

That’s it for today Vados! Thank you for reading my narrative about our National Event. It was truly a blessing to have some many amazing players attend our event, and I hope you enjoyed the show. Remember, we will be returning with our regular content in January!

Story Recap: Valley of Fear

Good morning! It’s Jonathan here with a STORY RECAP for the first event of Season Four, THE VALLEY OF FEAR. The goal of these Story Recap posts is to help fill in the blanks for those that might have missed an important mod, been at NPC camp, sleeping, or simply were not able to attend the game. These are major points of continuity that might be important throughout the season, and I hope this will help with the FOMO feels or answer some questions you had about what happened.

Photo credits in this post are from Lainey Weiss and Max Pohlmeier.

Winter Break!

This week is a departure from our regular Rules Rambles to catch up a bit on some of the Story Recaps we’ve missed so far this season. While helping remind you of some of the important story elements these will cover, the real goal of this is to keep the Winter Break a chance at a vacation for our admin team. I spend hours researching the Rules Rambles and writing up the topics I cover, and a lot of the preview posts are planned out during our production cycle before the event. So, after four games (including a National event and a Premiere game), I’m gonna take it easy.

I’m planning on catching up on some video games, play some Commander, get out some board games I’ve been neglecting, and just in general try to keep the DR work to a minimum over the break. We will be back with our regularly scheduled content on January 18th!

So for now, let’s dive into the story!

The Leadup to Valley of Fear

We released several teasers for this event including a very fun comic strip designed by Beau Lee and Aesa Garcia:

You can also find our other game recaps from last season here:

The events of the VALLEY OF FEAR really built on some choices and events that occurred during the last season of Bravado, during our May event, THE CICATRIX. During that event, the Warden of Killhouse, Tabitha St. Mercy was betrayed at a Gauntlet in the middle of town and captured by folks that forced her to step down from her role as Warden. In addition, the town passed a law against the sale and harvesting of the terrible drug known as Crystal Candy during the annual Stakeholder’s Meeting.

From a logistics perspective, this event was also the first of our ST-led Overarcs in 3.0. Last season, Shan and I wrote most of the major plot points of each game but this season we have given that role to a few of our Storytellers instead. Back during 2.0, this was a much more common event, where a single storyteller would be in charge of the major plots for an event. Given our philosophy of continuous improvement in DR:TX, we decided to revamp this process for the new world of 3.0 and really empower our STs to tell some new and interesting stories. Most of our events this season will be ST-led overarcs, and we are very excited to share these stories with y’all.

As such, our storyteller Ted LeBeau was responsible for the overarc and the story of THE VALLEY OF FEAR. Ted has played a Face NPC in our game for a bit named Adam Moriarty and was responsible for many of our criminal arcs during last season. If you didn’t know, the name of this event “The Valley of Fear” is from a Sherlock Holmes book from a similar namesake, and we even used the quote below as a teaser:

Arthur Conan Doyle, the Valley of Fea

Let’s first start with the published premise of the event and a teaser of what was to come:

The Premise of Valley of Fear

Before the Burning Season forced the San Saba into hibernation for the summer, dramatic changes to law and order in the wastes took root thanks to the work of the citizens of the tiny town of Bravado. A new law banning the sale and trafficking of Crystal Candy, new faces and new voting members on the San Saba Board, a mysterious accident in the floating city of Waking, and now — a missing Warden.

Tabitha St. Mercy - hounded, hunted, betrayed - caught off guard by enterprising people in Bravado, has disappeared from Prudence Penitentiary. In her place, a new Warden has taken control. Adam Moriarty, former Lifer, has stepped out from the shadows and the effects have rippled across the San Saba Territories. While major changes have been occurring at the prison commonly called “Killhouse”, life in the San Saba Territories has grown more dangerous.

People have gone missing. Roving bands of Vigilantes, often called “puppies” in a deriding fashion by some, try and help the Law Dogs. Their goal is to help enforce the newest laws, especially against Crystal Candy, and if a few skulls get broken, such is the way of things in the wastes. The Justices of Sin are more prevalent than ever, under the orders of Moriarty to help quickly pass judgement so that the Law Dogs can continue their crusade. Moriarty has even helped Wyatt break the backs of the Rotgut Family, former purveyors of the largest Crystal Candy pipeline in the San Saba and now they too sit in Prudence Penitentiary.

Despite the Board’s bold action against the drug trade of the San Saba, a prophecy of trouble has come true. Crystal Candy is still in abundance, and new pipelines are sprouting like weeds. There are even rumors of new and more addictive variations making their way to the marketplace.

And then there is Bravado - breeding ground for Saints and Miscreants - stuck in the middle of these wars between law and order, in a valley of fear…

What Has Happened Before…

The villainous Tabitha St. Mercy has represented a threat to the town of Bravado for quite some time. From her seat in Prudence Penitentiary and her seat on the San Saba Board, she has orchestrated the holiday known as the Indulgence, a time when contracts across the region are reset and the population of the prison is set free to run roughshod over the citizens of the San Saba. This rite of holy wrath serves to both justify her role as the Warden of the prison and remind the citizens what might happen if she was not there to collect the rogue Lifers and return them to the relative safety of their cells. For one bloody night, she has terrorized the town but has remained mostly untouchable thanks to her wealth, privilege, and army of deadly Lifers.

Right before the Burning Season began last May, the town of Bravado experienced a Gauntlet worth remembering. During the trial of Abe Callaghan for destroying the Grave Ledger during the last Collection Day, the titular leader of Prudence Penitentiary, Tabitha St. Mercy, arrived in person to dispense Justice at the proceedings. Thanks to the efforts of Abe’s friends and a town fearing the worst of the Gauntlet, Tabitha was set on by a mob before a final judgement could be rendered. In the ensuing scuffle, several people were left dead, and Tabitha was “escorted” away by mysterious masked bodyguards that betrayed her during the fight.

Secreted away to a cell to be interrogated and questioned, the Warden was held under duress while agents took the opportunity to negotiate an arrangement with the Retrograde leader. Perhaps the theft of the ledger was orchestrated to ensure that they could catch her off guard, but Tabitha was strangely unphased by the assault and her capture. She answered their questions but proved why the Warden of Killhouse was such a dangerous foe. During the questioning, Tabitha agreed to a deal from her captors. In exchange for signing a contract that she would step down as a Warden they would release her from custody. However, the contract was somewhat shortsighted, and failed to account for Tabitha’s machinations. While she agreed to step down as Warden, she also made sure she had the right to pick her replacement.

And her chosen replacement was Adam Moriarty, the Spider of Killhouse.

The Spider

Adam Moriarty is a loyal Lifer and member of the Nemesis Cult, the maniacal Tellingvisionaries that believe they are doing “good” for the world by taking on the role of an evil villain. By taking their role, they encourage a “hero” to rise up and stop them, thus ensuring the balance of good and evil is weighed back towards the light. Dubbed “the Spider of Killhouse” by his peers, Moriarty was responsible for a number of spy networks and schemes from within his cell but seemed content with the role he played on Tabitha’s behalf. When Adam was released during the last Indulgence, he returned dutifully to his cell at the end of the holiday, content to manipulate his foes and allies alike from within the confines of the prison.

Moriarty fashions himself after his oldcestor literary namesake, looking for a worthy Adversary. When he eventually finds that Adversary, he would do everything he can to destroy them, secretly hoping this will be the one who challenges him and perhaps rises above.  Despite his faith, Adam has been considered one of the more “reasonable” Lifers. He’s shared a cell with folks like Eyeless Jack, but is fiercely loyal to Tabitha. While Adam is not necessarily physically impressive, his cunning and intellect has led many a foe into an unexpected ambush and trap while he watches impassively nearby.

He is a man of good birth and excellent education, endowed by nature with a phenomenal mathematical faculty. [...] But the man had hereditary tendencies of the most diabolical kind. A criminal strain ran in his blood, which, instead of being modified, was increased and rendered infinitely more dangerous by his extraordinary mental powers. [...] He is the Napoleon of Crime, Watson. He is the organiser of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city...

— Holmes, "The Final Problem"

No one exactly knows where Adam Moriarty comes from. He is a Pure Blood by Strain, but the family he claims is not one local, and no local families claim to know him. He claims his family came across the great sea a generation or two back, and that he had to remove them from his life. The smile he makes when he says that makes people think they did not live.

Thanks to Moriarty’s control of Killhouse, the new Warden immediately set into plans he had spent months forming to usurp control of the criminal underworld of the San Saba.

New Laws and New CRYSTAL CANDY

During the last Stakeholder’s Meeting, several laws were considered for addition to the San Saba Charter. One of the votes that passed regarded the sale of Crystal Candy:

“The growth, harvesting, trafficking, and consumption of psionic crystals and their byproducts is hereby considered dangerous to San Saba communities and is forbidden.”

Following a series of violent deaths of Boss Wyatt and several Law Dogs in Bravado, the San Saba Board passed a firm law against the harvesting and trafficking of the drug known as Crystal Candy. The drug is commonly harvested from the living brains of screaming psions before they die and crushed into a crystalline powder mixed with gasoline and other sundries.

Opponents of the measure suggested that a certain reading of the law could be used to make being a psion illegal in the San Saba. The Law Dogs have repeatedly stated that any suggestion that they would use this to hunt down psions or look for psionic gizmos or armor is assuming the Law Dogs would make a very uncharitable interpretation of the law. For now, their focus is entirely on the scourge of Crystal Candy in the Lone Star.

But despite the new laws over the Burning Season, the scourge of Crystal Candy was still as worse as ever. Stronger variants of the drug were flooding the region and are known to be incredibly addictive, in addition to offering strange new powers to those willing to indulge.

Four varieties of new Crystal Candy emerged. All of the candies were more potent versions of the common Crystal Candy, but each had a unique side effect in addition to a menacing and intentional addictive quality.

  • Longwalker - This blue-tinted candy was thought to be harvested from Quiet Folk or Lovelaces, and gave the user a rush of speed and energy that ultimately resulted in mangled limbs when it wore off.

  • Glimmer - This rarer, silver-tinted candy was made from those that had never died or passed through the Grave Mind and enabled the user to focus on a crafting project and finish it at breakneck speeds. However, once this surge of energy wore off, the user was helpless and unconscious, sometimes in a dangerous or inopportune moment.

  • Firebrand - This red-tinted candy was most likely harvested from those with Bad Brain or of the Tainted Strain but enabled the user to manifest potent and uncontrollable Pyrokinetics even if they were not a psion.

  • Helios - This green-tinted candy glowed in the moonlight and was likely harvested from an individual suffering from Radiation Sickness. Prized by the Darwins, this drug could enable a user to manifest powerful Biogenetics auras, shortly before exploding into a radioactive blast.

Each of these terrible drugs were readily available to criminal organizations throughout the San Saba, but the main question for those opposed to the trade of the candy was WHERE it was coming from. The volume of drugs available on this scale meant that the standard “candy shoppe” setup to harvest Crystal Candy from victims had been increased to industrial volumes.

Dance till you pop

As the night of the trade weekend fell on Friday, a buzz was in the air. New business and new faces in Bravado meant the town was once again populated after the Burning Season. As long-term residents and visitors alike took shelter during the brutal summer heat, September marked the end of the dangerous weather and a return to the only normalcy you could find in the wastelands. Even the zed and raiders laid fallow in the summer, so the dwindling heat brought threats back to prominence as well.

In the wave of newcomers were also villains. Drug traffickers followed potential marks into town, intent on distributing the new illicit candies, despite the threat of enforcement from the Law Dogs. In the shadows of Bravado, they found many eager to consider their wares, but just as many residents intent on rounding them up and confiscating their drugs. When they were captured, the drug dealers could not speak to where the drugs came from, just that they had been tasked to deliver them to Bravado.

Some of the dealers were partaking in the very substances they trafficked, and one individual had recently abused the drug Firebrand. Using his newfound psionic powers, he purposefully exploded into a fireball within the Swaying Anker, interrupting the festivities inside. When the Law Dogs responded, the other companions also used their ill-found abilities to defend themselves violently. The attack was brutal but left several clues that would be valuable to uncovering Moriarty’s evil plot.

With the wave of ne’er do wells sneaking into town came groups of vigilantes - citizens that had decided to take the law into their own hands to deal with the menace of crystal candy. These faux Law Dogs, called derisively “Puppies”, created more work for the constabulary as they muddled about intruding into legitimate investigations and tampered with the clues and evidence that were available. One individual even tried to execute a captured dealer, claiming the right as a Hellhound to murder, despite inventing a title for himself.

At the same time, some of the victims of recent candy farming managed to find a bit of reprieve within the town of Bravado. The small group of people had come in from the wilderness, having escaped what they called ‘Hell.’ Each of them described unimaginable horrors and were severely fractured and nearly dead, harvested of almost all their infection. One of them described someone who sounds like the Butcher of Killhouse, a white-haired Unstable in a blood-stained operating gown. Despite the attempts to distract from the operation, it was clear that the harvesting of the new crystal candy was happening somewhere near Bravado.

The Impact of Industry

In the morning, a peculiar side effect of the crystal candy manufacturing in the area became more obvious. Critters and local wildlife were acting erratically, and some of them were even displaying psionic powers similar to the side effects of the new crystal candy. Psionic zed increased in numbers, with Lost Boys and Shamblers exhibiting strange new psionic power. In the early morning, survivors reported a run in with several Leviathan whelps that chased after them with a renewed speed and vigor previously unseen, and they glimmered with silver dust across their scales and fins.

Another deadly encounter ran afoul of the terrible local menace, the Murder Goat Deer. Already a dangerous foe, these vicious creatures were pushed to a psychotic frenzy and had become capable of exploding into a blast of pyrokinetics. Hunters were able to track the mutated Murder Goat Deer back to its lair, and found a massive shipment of the drugs had been intercepted by the critters, and the crashed container had leaked the poisonous candy into the den of the beasts.

Fishermen also began reporting mutated fish and further pollution in Lake Bravado, suggesting once more that the industrial plant making the new crystal candy was outputting vast quantities of runoff and waste they were pouring directly into the waterways near the lake. That meant that this “Hell” was indeed somewhere close by. But in the meantime, the water table was being polluted by the remnants of the production and would create an ecological catastrophe if left unchecked.

The drugs were having impact on other parts of the ecology, particularly on the victims. Despite the threat of the Law Dogs interrupting their industry, the entire process was becoming cannibalistic, and the scale of murder being committed by those making the drugs could not be sustained. Those that abused the drugs became targets of further kidnappings as they became new donors for the crystals that grew in their brains. The drugs themselves used the basic formulation of Crystal Candy but were taken to an extreme level by provoking the growth of psionic crystals in their hosts, even if they were not originally aberrant.

The derived nature of the drugs were equally dangerous. When combined with Leviathan Salts, another popular but explosive drug, they could amplify the effects of the Salts to devastating levels. The attack on Friday was obviously amplified in the same way by the presence of Leviathan Salts. Even worse, some of the drugs apparently even stopped the victims from sinking into the Grave Mind after their death, echoing the terrible attack on Essex weeks before. These bodies with strange purple veins prominent on the corpse were quickly gathered by agents of Moriarty, secreted away to the factory producing their tainted Candy.

Following the trail of clues

A few scattered clues became obvious as the day went on. It was clear based on the volume of the new drugs being produced that this was not just an amateur show, and that it would need a large facility, equipment, and personnel, particularly those with the medical skill to incapacitate and harvest crystals from the victims. Furthermore, no one had seen the Surgeon General of Killhouse, Juliet Butcher, in quite some time. Given her role in helping Killhouse collect organs from unfortunate victims during the last Indulgence, it was simple enough to recognize her handiwork in the victims that survived being harvested for psionic crystals or Infection.

The dealers and field agents of the operation had seemingly came from nowhere. Moriarty’s rank-and-file soldiers were discovered to be the infamous criminals of the Rotgut Family. These Retrograde and Full Dead mercenaries had been a plague on the San Saba for some time and many of them had ended up behind bars in the prison. Moriarty had released them once more, employing their skill at violence and crime to aid his endeavors. These killers took to the role of drug traffickers with glee, aiding in the kidnapping of citizens and survivors throughout the region. The Rotguts were hard at work, and someone needed to stop them.

Moriarty himself had been seen personally by a few of the victims, passing on information and orders to other escaped Lifers of Killhouse. He had a direct hand in the candy operation and was even taking trips away from Killhouse to visit his operation in the field. There was some tie with the killer known as Grandfather Nichols, though the relationship seemed to be one of convenience. Given the time he was away from the prison and how quickly he could return, it confirmed the location near Bravado. Moriarty was clearly in control of the production of the new drugs, held their recipes, and was constructing them in a place his agents called “the Manufactorum”.

Finally, the clues had led the town to a destination.

The manufactorum

Following the clues about the Manufactorum led the town to a group of Darwin cultists known as the Bay’lor Institute. Comprised of mostly Tainted, the Bay’lors were a group of scientists that kept mostly to themselves and the studies. While the Institute had some connection with “dread surgeons” of old, those that stabilized the strains of Bad Brain in themselves chose to focus on science rather than the abductions and torture of their predecessors. These Tainted had been employed on contract by Moriarty, paid in the strange mysterious ore that had been found in Bravado recently.

However, several Bay'lor interns working on psionic research for Moriarty snuck out of the Manufactorum to observe the results of their work. Every good scientist knows proper science requires documentation, after all. Once out from the confines of their labs, they realized that their work was being used for less uplifting ends than they were led to believe. The de facto leader of the Baylor Institute, Headmaster D’Na Genome, made contact with residents of Bravado with a solution to their problems.

In exchange for helping them with an experiment for the Institute and providing them plausible deniability, the Darwins could provide inside information about the Manufactorum, including the defenses, further information about the experiments being performed inside, the specific location, and as much information as they could gather from the Rotgut guards. The Darwins were also able to confirm the presence of the Butcher, as she was in charge of the various psionic research projects they were contracted to complete. In fact, she was arriving to pick up a strange shipment that very evening.

A plan was quickly formed. Though the Manufactorum was swarming with Rotgut soldiers, it would be crucial to perform reconnaissance on the factory, and see what they could learn before they committed a force strong enough to pierce the defenses. If they could get inside by stealth, they could even identify a weaknesses they could use to shut down the facility for good.

the first assault on the manufactorum

When a team of Bravado citizens was assembled, they met with D’Na Genome and her scientists on the outskirts of the town. It would require a long and treacherous hike, but they would be able to approach the facility undetected if they were quiet enough. If they could clear the path, it would be much easier to approach the Manufactorum with vehicles and a larger force, provided they were successful. The few guards on the way were dispatched quickly and silently, and they finally emerged in a clearing near the factory.

The Manufactorum was built out of a shell of an old building, probably some storehouse used during the Hiway war, but it had been converted into a massive manufacturing plant. Heavy pipes cast waste chemicals into a nearby river, the source of the pollution effecting the ecosystem nearby. Vehicles left periodically carrying Rotgut soldiers into the wastes for distribution of their new drugs. The building also had a number of sniper towers set up with a commanding view of the approach and the defenses seemed impregnable.

Luckily, the advance team had brought the perfect weapon of subtlety - a rocket launcher. Fired by one of the boisterous Road Royals, KH4NV0Y, the blasts made short work of the sniper towers. A group of elite Rotgut soldiers engaged the team, but after a deadly skirmish they managed to take one of the Retrograde leaders alive for questioning.

The soldier confirmed what the Darwin’s intelligence had promised. Juliet Butcher would be at the plant that night to pick up a very large shipment of some new chemical the plant had made. According to the Darwins, this was some special project the Butcher had been working on as part of her agreement with Moriarty, but was using some byproduct of the crystal candy process to enable her research.

While a few stealthier folks infiltrated into the Manufactorum, the rest stayed outside to defend from any Rotguts that might have noticed (or survived) their first attack. They had the element of surprise for now, but knew they only had a short time before reinforcements arrived. Inside the factory, the scouts found the horrifying meat grinder of the candy factory and confirmed their worst fears. Not only was the scale of the operation beyond their imagination, it was clear that Moriarty was not stopping with Bravado. There was a huge shipment of the new Crystal Candy being prepared for transport, enough to flood every town from Bravado to the Clutch.

In the lowest levels of the factory, the advanced team found dozens and dozens of captured psions, all part of the assembly line of candy nucleation for the Butcher. Not only was the Butcher killing and harvesting candy from the psions, they had industrialized the process by simply grinding the brains and psion crystals in a massive machine to make a slurry they could crystallize into their foul chemicals. There were many more victims here than they suspected, and the Butcher was even using some to harvest their very Infection. It would take time to evacuate this many survivors from the factory, time they didn’t have during this first attack.

Worst of all, there was even a captured Blood Ghast with strange crystals growing from its head, a clear attempt to turn even the undead into harvest-able sources of crystal candy. With the supply of the creatures in the tunnels below Bravado and citizens captured by his Rotgut associates, there would be enough subjects to keep the Crystal Candy pipeline open forever. Moriarty’s plan had to be stopped by any means necessary, and it was clear they had to do something about it soon.

an explosive solution

Once back in Bravado, the team that had scouted the Manufactorum set about trying to form a plan to stop Moriarty. It was now clear the scope of his plot, but they needed some way to make sure he could not simply move his operation to a new location. They needed to shut down his factory in a way that he could not recover the research and equipment within. While they could simply leave it be and hope the RRC or the San Saba Board would act against Moriarty, inaction seemed like a plan that no one could stomach.

A plea for help interrupted their discussions, as D’Na fled into Bravado chased by several dangerous Rotgut mercenaries. One of the Rotgut leaders, a telepath named Shamrok, had uncovered their plan to sabatoge the factory and help the Vados stop Moriarty, and they had decided to rid themselves of the traitors violently. Swift reaction from the Vados provided a timely rescue to the Darwin scientist, and the town was able to defeat the mercenaries and chase Shamrok back into the wastes.

DN’a had managed to escape with a plan to stop the Manufactorum, but it would need to be enacted immediately. The Rotguts’ discovery of their plan meant they were preparing to move critical research out of the factory so the town could not damage their production lines. The Butcher would be arriving that night not only to move her shipment out of town, but she would be covering their tracks and taking the tools necessary to continue the process elsewhere.

The Bay’lor’s plan hinged on their intimate knowledge of the chemical processes that Juliet was using to make the new drugs. The Manufactorum was vulnerable to disruption thanks to a useful side effect of the nucleation process. The chemical slurry of blood and crystal left behind by the process was highly flammable and with the right application of Leviathan Salts, it could be turned into a powerful explosive - one capable of stopping Moriarty’s factory once and for all.

The town had two choices ahead.

The Darwins could manufacturer a dangerous reagent capable of starting a chain reaction that would disable the factory. By rigging the pressure valves on a primary condenser to overload, they could detonate the sub-tanks gathering the crystal precipitate. This solution would cause a magnificent explosion, but would likely kill many of the captured aberrants and experiments before they could be evacuated in time. It would be a terrible loss of life, and the ensuing destruction would likely have an impact on the zed that were released by the deaths at the factory. It would be a permanent and final end to the danger the factory represented, but a costly one.

Alternatively, the Darwin reagent could be used to simply contaminate the chemical slurry and render it inert. By connecting the centrifuge system to the recrystalization tank, they could manipulate the chemical mix to cause a crystalization failure. The product of Moriarty’s factory would be wasted, but it would leave the building and equipment mostly intact. This solution might provide them more time to quietly evacuate the survivors from the factory, but it would leave the Manufactorum as a potential problem for the future. Once the Rotguts had realized their shipment was contaminated, they would likely take their fury out on the citizens of Bravado instead.

The bovine monstrosity

Because the Bay’lor scientists has been forced to flee with the reagent half-finished, it required assistance from the town, particularly their culinary experts. As soon as the town had gathered the resources to finish the reagent, they gathered their firearms and blades to arm themselves for a final assault on the Manufactorum.

The remaining Darwins left behind in DN’a’s escape would be able to unlock the gates leading to the factory, so the townsfolk could quickly attack the facility before the Rotguts could react. Ideally, the Rotguts would be distracted by their own preparations to move the factory that they would be able to infiltrate in before they realized they were in their midst.

The townsfolk raced along the makeshift roads leading to the Manufactorum, reagent in hand. The potential of fire from the Rotgut guards was silenced by well-placed shots from their marksmen, and they were able to approach without much resistance. They split into several teams, one to rescue the trapped psions and to dispatch the mutated monsters, and a second to apply the reageant to the mass crystallization system. The remaining Vados would attempt to hold a line and keep the Rotguts from interfering.

A terrible roar came from the belly of the Manufactorum as a terrible mutated beast emerged. The crazed half breed abomination was a stitched monstrosity, with the head of a cow and the body of a man. Alongside the mutant came the ambushing force of the Rotguts, led by Juliet Butcher and Shamrok, intent on disrupting the attack on the factory. The battle was engaged, swords clanging against makeshift shields, the blast of rifles piercing armor and flesh, and the screams and battle cries of the attackers.

The bovine creature was nigh invulnerable. Bullet after bullet failed to pierce its hide. Clubs and choppers were turned aside as if hitting steel, and the creature ripped through their ranks with wicked claws unfazed by their attacks. Each time it killed one of the Vados, it would howl with an unearthly sound and devour the corpse in a brutal display of bloodshed. Each time, it seemed to get stronger as if it was gathering power and feeding with a primordial siphon.

Periodically, the creature would seem to be felled, but would simply be wracked with pain and anguish as its body regenerated and re-knit itself once more. It would slough off attacks and hit back with a murderous frenzy, its mutated form seeming to adapt and change in a constant necrotic mutation. Again, and again, the foul monster was driven back, while the Vados attempted to buy time for their assault.

the fall of the manufactorum

With a line of shields and swords attempting to keep the bovine monster and the Rotguts at bay, the rest of the Vados set to their work. Teams of doctors and assistants worked to unplug victims from filth ridden beds, ripping out plastic tubing and shackles that kept them as human livestock for the terrible byproduct of crystal candy. The Bay’lor Institute scientists used their access to unlock doors and helped the Vados evacuate the captured aberrants to the safety of their trucks.

When they pierced the defenses of the factory itself, they quickly set to disabling the Butcher’s strange machines. While a few of the more outspoken types had argued to simply detonate the factory and let the Grave Mind sort it out, cooler heads prevailed and they set to work contaminating the crystallization machine instead. A few of the drug-enhanced Rotguts offered resistance, turning the strange new candy into potent enhancements. With chemically induced strength and speed, they attempted to stop the process but were driven back by the defenders.

As they disabled the machine, they set to dealing with the recipes and materials that would enable Moriarty to continue his manufacture of the new crystal candy. With a few well placed firebombs, they set the offices ablaze, and took to destroying any bit of materials they could find. A few shady hands might have absconded with some of the the documents in the chaos, but the damage was done. The crystal candy pipeline would be finished thanks to their efforts.

In the basements of the Manufactorum, they also found more of the strange monstrosities like the one attacking their friends. The creatures were hybrid necro-mutants, combined of different creatures and something that once was a survivor, but all were in various states of preparation. One might have felt sorry for them as they pulled plugs and slit throats of the tormented creatures, save for a reminder of the terrible danger these things represented from the sounds of fighting outside. A series of notes nearby identified the things as THE BUTCHERED, the secret experiments of Juliet, but there was no sign of whatever else she was working on.

The butcher’s escape & Retaliation

Outside, the battle reached a climax. The strange mutant was clearly tiring. Each time they seemed to kill or disable it, it roared back to life and regenerated limbs and claws once more. But each time was a bit slower than the last. The Vados pressed the advantage, driving back Shamrok and his Rotguts, and evading the surgical strikes of the Butcher as she faded in and out of the darkness. With a final piercing blow, the bovine creature fell to the ground for a last time.

And then it exploded.

The psionic blast from the creature knocked back defender and Rotgut alike, the terrible force of its final discharge devastating the battlefield. Whatever was empowering it tore through armor and shield alike as it exploded into a cloud of gore and viscera, spraying bone and blood in every direction. The remaining Rotguts seemed to realize the tide had turned and proved themselves every bit the cowards they were as the Manufactorum defenders scattered into the night. Unfortunately, in the distraction of the explosion, both Shamrok and the Butcher had vanished, leaving their associates behind to cover their escape.

At the same time inside the factory, with a hiss of foul smoke and bubbling reactions, the chain reaction had began. The candy manufacturing and crystallization machine was contaminated by the reagent and filled the factory with poisonous gases. Evacuating the last of the survivors, a victorious shout let the defenders know it was time to withdraw. They had achieved their goal and disabled the Manufactorum, ending Moriarty’s foul plot and closing the pipelines of the candy trade.

However, despite the earlier tip, they had found no source of the shipment the Butcher was said to be moving during the night. They had found large stores of candy they were able to destroy, but whatever the Butcher had been working on in secret had already been moved. Someone had alerted her in time to let her move the project before they could arrive. She had obviously had help from someone in town, but there was no time to ponder the betrayal.

Safely in their vehicles the Vados withdrew, leaving the smoking and contaminated Manfactorum in their wake. While Crystal Candy was still a scourge of the wasteland, these new, more dangerous variants were stopped for good.

Threads of Note during the Valley of Fear

  • A large group of Recluse Nester raiders had moved into Bravado over the Burning Season. These strange raiders bred massive spiders and their nests were a dangerous threat that needed to be dealt with. Armed with a spray to dislodge the sticky fibers of their webbing, the Vados managed to destroy the nest, but it was clear that some more dangerous force was stirring the raiders towards their expansion — a spider queen!

  • Eyeless Jack, one of the Lifers of Killhouse was spotted in town with an ominous message. He claimed to be the “Herald of the Apocalypse” and warned the town that doom was headed their way on clouds of black smoke. While the crazed killer seemed to avoid his usual crimes of murder and eye mutilation, the eerie message seemed prophetic, and it reminded a few that his father, Grandfather Nichols had been away for many months working on something in secret.

  • A new mysterious ore was discovered in a tunnel beneath the morgue. This strange material seemed similar to a psionic crystal in nature, but inert. Perhaps the Eightfold Mother had seen a reason to rip a hole in the Mortis or maybe this was some new function of the Mortis Amaranthine. Regardless of the cause, the new ore seemed to spark the usual wildfire of greed and a rush to harvest the material. Teams of survivors took turns mining inside the morgue, seeking their fortunes in the strange purple ore, and graveheads took to trying to communicate with the Grave Mind for answers. There were even whispers of Grave Mind specters haunting a few unlucky townsfolk, appearing to them as if in a dream that only they could perceive.

  • The Rook was spotted in town, trying to convince the town to deal with the danger of crystal candy once and for all. The psion terrorist managed to whip several of the rogue vigilantes into a frenzy, seeking out Rotgut dealers and providing a murderous end to the crimes. One has to wonder if she had an opinion on how the town dealt with the Manufactorum…

  • Over the weekend, the curious white-robed cultists from Essex came into town bearing medical assistance and brews for the wounded and hurt. The Cult of the Tiny God was still active, even after the loss of the Fountainhead. The grave mind cultists seemed drawn to rumors of the new activity in the Grave Mind, but seemed more intent on helping than anything else.

Questions remaining…

The brave heroes of Bravado had struck a mighty blow at Moriarty, but the new Warden of Killhouse was still entrenched in his fortress of Prudence Penitentiary. Not only had the town made a decision to cripple the Crystal Candy trade in Bravado, they had chosen to rescue the survivors of the Manufactorum instead of destroying it with a mighty explosion. They had traveled through a valley of fear, and emerged triumphant over the genius machinations of the Spider of Killhouse.

But there were several questions remaining. What was the strange creature they had encountered at that Manufactorum? Who had helped Juliet Butcher escape, and how did she know about the attack? What was the strange shipment that had been moved from the Manufactorum before they arrived? Something was still moving in the shadows, and it was clear that Moriarty was just one part of the conspiracy that was unraveling in the San Saba.

wrap up

That’s it for today folks! I hope you enjoyed the narrative I crafted in this recap. I may have taken a few liberties here or there, but this covers the big points you should remember as we continue our season in February. Clever folks probably already see the connections of this game to the following National event, the NECROPHAGE. Clearly, Moriarty had a particular mad scientist helping him in his plots, and something wicked was headed towards Bravado.

Next week, we will cover the recap for PYROCLASM! See you soon! Enjoy the break, and I hope to see you in February!

Story Recap: The Cicatrix

Good morning! It’s Jonathan here with a STORY RECAP for the recent event, THE CICATRIX. The goal of these Story Recap posts is to help fill in the blanks for those that might have missed an important mod, been at NPC camp, sleeping, or simply were not able to attend the game. These are major points of continuity that might be important next season, and I hope this will help with the FOMO feels, or answer some questions you had about what happened.

We are hard at work on our next season, and we appreciate each and everyone one of you that attended a game during our last season. Our new ST team is working on finishing out our schedule of events for Season 4 and we will have a few more announcements of episode titles, teasers, and more very very soon.

Photo credits in this post are from Harlow Ulmer, Sydney Betzina, and Earlena Soukup.

You can also find our other game recaps from this season here:

So once you’ve been caught up, let’s refresh our memories about the premise behind the event…

The Cicatrix Premise

The morgues in Bravado have stopped working. The dead have not returned for the better part of a month. Small shrines to the missing dot the long roads between settlements and the aberrant population reports that the wails of the dead, so often cacophonous in the psionically demented mind, are silent. 

Takheeta Firstborn has been killed, cut low at the penultimate moment of her triumph, and transfigured into a Gravemind Shard; a kind of semi sentient intelligence that occupies a greater portion of the gestalt that is the local “Gravemind” itself. Her death has made way for General Rampart, new leader of the Grave Council, to impart policy. But, in evoking the Cantankerous Matrix to heal the Morgues across the San Saba, instead the Grave Council has metastasized a fatal threat to the Lonestar, and the Infectious Cycle itself. Over the past several weeks, tumorous protrusions have formed like a layer of scar tissue, cutting off the exit for the newly returned from the Grave. 

Now, General Rampart has formulated a scheme to re-open the morgues across the Lonestar Wastes, not by punching through the thick layer of cutaneous tissue that has formed like a plug over every morgue the entire municipality over, but instead by treating the aberrance from the inside; by delving into the abyssal depths of the Mortis, through layers of skin and skein, to where the heart of the cancer pulses in darkness and filth.

In the midst of this emerging crisis, the politics of the San Saba Board still looms. The annual Stakeholder’s Meeting is scheduled for May, despite the threat of the broken morgues. During the Meeting, each of the contracted members of the various factions get to weigh in on the upcoming changes to the San Saba Charter, though some chafe against the law and protest the carnival of capitalism. Surrounded by machinations and manipulations, conspiracy and chicanery, wheeling and dealing, politics and persuasion. the leaders of the Board and their many plots stirs something dark beneath the ground.

Deep below New Bravado, and deeper still than the thin layer of biomass where the Gravemind, and The Eightfold Mother supposedly lurk; against resonant and bloodghast, recollection and reaver, the denizens of Bravado will need to combat the lurking memories that have pooled beneath the morgues like so much sump dump, and press upwards towards the surface until the scab breaks, and the biomass and blood may cleanly osmote between reality, and the Grave.

Death, suspended

From the first moments of Friday night, the sense of danger was heightened. If you were to die to the various threats of the wastes, you would be trapped in the Near Death, unable to return to life. A thick cutaneous layer of biomass had formed on every Morgue exit, and created an impenetrable seal that trapped the recently dead within. Any attempts to cut through the mass would be stymied, as the biomass healed the damage as fast as it was inflicted. The effect was more pronounced the closer you got to Bravado.

For nearly a month, the list of missing had been growing, including Felicity Redfield, Boss Wyatt, and several of the local Vados as well. With the rumors of Nemesis on the prowl on the fabled Friday the 13th, the risk of the upcoming weekend was never higher. As the sun set, each of the survivors had to grapple with the upcoming threat of simply existing in Bravado on a trade weekend where you could not die...

One thing was immediately clear — while the immediate threat was more from their own than from the environment, such as the faceless assassins of Murder Inc, or simply other survivors taking advantage of trapping an enemy in the Mortis, the environment was also adapting to the changes. The closing of the morgues had an effect on the various creatures that haunt the wastes.

  • Zombies were virtually non-existent, as the same effect that sealed the morgues were responsible for stopping the various hordes from emerging from the orifices of the Mortis Amaranthine. However, some reports from Waking talked about the pressure within the Near Death building into explosions from below that still rarely released a small horde into the world. If you saw a zombie, it was almost certainly related to one of these RUPTURES.

  • Raiders too had become scarce. While Raiders don’t normally get stuck for long in the Grave Mind, as they are outside the cycle of death, they were still effected by the strange trapping effect of the closed morgues. While at first the Raiders were the traditional threat they always were, their numbers dwindled over the weeks since the crisis, but it only served to eliminate the weakest of their kind, and the Raider hunting packs were filled with the meanest, toughest variants as each Raider clan trimmed off the fat and became even more deadly. The risk was now not from more Raider attacks from the faceless and endless hordes of Headhunter Raiders, but rather the elite and deadly Warpath Raiders and Gravehead Raiders.

  • In direct opposition to the other threats of the wastes, Critters had actually grown MORE dangerous. The ubiquitous MURDER GOAT DEER, a mutated deer-like creature that preyed on zombie flesh were being driven to hunger frenzies after being deprived their normal feeding grounds. However, the Murder Goat Deer are truly omnivorous, and survivor flesh would suffice — they aren’t that picky when they are ravenous. Coupled with the continued pollution in the lake, the Murder Goat Deer had continued their strange mutations, growing larger and more grotesque with the passing day. Each MGD was a terror, driven to hunt and eat survivors instead of their usual prey.

Bracing for the threat, the town set to work on the task of finding a solution to the closed morgues and how to rescue their friends from the Near Death.

help from the grave council

Early in the weekend, Grave Council stakeholders received a letter from General Rampart of the Grave Council. In the letter, he explained the efforts the rest of the group had been working on over the last few weeks, along with research material to guide a plan to resolve the morgue crisis for good. In addition, he promised additional assistance from an unlikely ally to the north - the Sequoia Wastes! The Grave Council had also erected a strange structure at the Cross Roads, a building called a “proto-morgue”.

In the past few weeks, the Grave Council tried several things to fix the morgues, using all manners of tools, machinery, or procedures to access the Morgue. They tried several fixes and experiments in advance, to try to narrow the focus for a fix for the sealed morgue. Mundane efforts like the Pallor Mortis, the Abyssal Stitch procedure, or other ways to normally access the Near Death failed. Psions could not detect people on the other side, and even uses of Necrokinetics were useless to contact the dead. However, the RUPTURES of the undead emerging periodically cued them to a potential solution.

Each time zombies returned, an opening was made in the Mortis Amaranthine so they could “vent” the pressure off the Grave Mind. If you were quick enough, it was possible to catch the opening and keep it from healing. Much like a STENT would be used to insert into a blood vessel to keep it open during a surgery, the Council believed that these wounds could create temporary openings to the Near Death. Rampart described several people being able to be withdrawn from the Mortis, though the process was incredibly taxing on the Graverobber during the procedure. Each time would completely exhaust the person’s effort of Resolve and Mind, so it was not a real solution to the problem.

In addition, it was evident the longer a person was trapped in the Near Death, the more their IMPRINT itself would be combined with the other people within. While the Plague of the Unfinished was truly cured by Takheeta’s failed ritual, this new condition caused the people to emerge fractured and virtually unable to function. Brews and meals would not heal them, their wounds could not be healed, and the madness could not be soothed. It was clear something else would need to be done, but the Ruptures were clearly the key to a fix. If the Grave Council could find a permanent solution to the overhealing effect of the CANTANKEROUS MATRIX, it would likely return the morgues to their normal function prior to the Hiway War.

A seed from the Sequoia Wastes

Rampart’s letter also detailed instructions to meet the Grave Council at the docks of the lake early on Friday for a shipment from the north. Several months back, agents of the CLOSED CASKET COMMISSION, or CCC, were sent down to Bravado to serve as interns to the mighty Grave Council. These groundskeepers and graverobbers had been working for several months, and even had a hand in helping with the MONOLITH last December. From their homeland, a key to the crisis was discovered.

The tiny town of GREENWATER, near the more famous settlement of the VERDIGRIFT GARDENS, held a particular importance to the inhabitants of Bravado. The town of Greenwater was of two worlds, one above the waves, and one below. The Saltwise graverobbers of the town nurtured strange growths of the Mortis Amaranthine, products of the underwater morgue that they used to return the recently deceased. These MORGUE SEEDS could even be used to grow a new morgue. In fact, one had already been used to create the new morgue of Drywater, so it would be trivial to ship one to Bravado to aid in their research.

Using the MORGUE SEED, it would be possible to create a temporary morgue. This proto-morgue could be connected to one of the Grave Ruptures, and it could be possible to keep an opening in the biomass from resealing. It would require talented Graverobbers and medics to perform such a unique procedure, but it could be a way to return the dead back to the world of the living intact. Rampart sent instructions for the process to each of the Trustees of the Grave Council, but it would require their efforts locally to place the seed in fertile ground.

When Captain Nemo and the other nautical pioneers of Bravado went to meet the shipment from the Sequoia, they arrived just in time to aid a ship in distress. A clan of Drowned One raiders had waylaid the shipment and would need to be liberated from their new prize. Luckily, the Vados were able to answer the call and brave Midnight Jellyfish, a few juvenile Leviathans, while fending off the attacks of the submerged Raiders. Pistol shots from crude rifles rang out as the Vados fended off the strange raiders, drawn for some reason to the peculiar cargo. The sharp ring of blade on blade boarding attacks rang out across the still lake as the raiders attacked relentlessly. The attackers seemed intent on rescuing the Morgue Seed from the crew, and it was only the timely intervention of the reinforcements that saved the Seed in time.

With their prize in hand, the ‘Vados brought the Morgue Seed to the site of the Grave Council’s preparations at the Cross Roads, a new synthetic morgue.

the return of Boss Wyatt

One of the first individuals to not return from the Morgue was the leader of the Law Dog Union, the Reclaimer cowboy, Boss Wyatt. During Collection Day, they were poisoned and killed after drinking a tainted beverage, and had not emerged from the Mortis before Takheeta’s ill-destined ritual began. Realizing that the Law Dog was most at risk from imprint decay, they would need to be the first person pulled from the new proto-morgue. Something was wrong, and even a few of Wyatt’s friends were experiencing strange dreams about him struggling in the Near Death. If the reports from Essex were to be believed, it would be a difficult and challenging process to retrieved someone that had died and they would need to focus their will and efforts on the very Imprint of Boss Wyatt.

Under the guidance of Slink and her newly minted Graverobber student Ies, the graveheads and their friends set out to bring back the Law Dog Sheriff. Using radioactive metal formed into crude tools, the ritual would use the natural opponent of Infection to carve into to the cutaneous tissue of biomass before it could seal again. A truth of grave science, radiation is so dangerous to survivors because it breaks down the genetic bonds of the Infection itself. It would be the perfect tool to cut into the healed over growths created by the Cantankerous Matrix. If they could implant the Morgue Seed in the rupture in time, they could create a limited exit from the Mortis Amaranthine for Boss Wyatt to escape.

In order to begin the procedure, they would also need to wait for a Grave Rupture to occur. However, almost as soon as the Morgue Seed was brought to the Cross Road by Captain Nemo and the others, they were met with a eerie and recently unheard sound — the guttural moans of the dead. As if reacting to the presence of the peculiar biomass seed brought from abroad, the dead rose up to interrupt the Graverobber procedure. Rushing to the rupture, the defenders tried to buy Slink and the others time while the explosion from the Mortis forced more of the strange broken and unformed zed, the Unfinished, into their line with a force like a tidal wave.

The Stygian Scar left by the rupture was difficult to hold open, but the radioactive metal was as effective as predicted. It enabled them to hold back the healing of the Matrix for a time, long enough to create the temporary stent, using the seed to trick the wound into healing around it instead of sealing the rupture entirely. However, once implanted, the seed would need time to form roots and complete its ersatz repose, but it would be enough to reach within the Near Death and pull out their target.

The procedure itself was incredibly taxing. To prepare the ruptured wounds, the townsfolk poured gallons of their own blood into the seeping wounds, feeding the sores with their bodies. Using the grave vents, they connected tubing and electrical wiring back to the Morgue seed to create stimulated roots of the synthetic morgue. They focused their minds on the imprint of Boss Wyatt, remembering the subtle smell of the leather they wore, the color of the hair, the sound of his voice, each memory solidifying a call into the Mortis for the lost Law Dog. With their voices pleading for Wyatt to return, they reached into the stent and found an answering hand.

the release of the gutmother

Climbing through the slimy orifice, the reconstituted body of Boss Wyatt crawled out aiding by the graverobbers to the moonlit night above. Panting and heaving, covered in viscera, blood, biomass, and rot, Wyatt struggled to form words in their newly formed body. Each gasp of new air in new lungs was a staccato rhythm of recovery. He finally spoke, with an ominous whisper, “I held her back as long as I could…”

Beneath Bravado, something shuddered. The infernal engine of change that was the Mortis Amaranthine did not turn over but some other, smaller mechanism began to squeal in its place. High pitched and distant, like a bug in another room, the Synthetic Morgue came to life with all the fanfare of a bowel movement. A semi-functional morgue, returned to service — exactly what the town needed. No fanfare, no accompanying horde. Just a serviceable stent into the Mortis so they could get their friends out. 

At least, they’d hoped that.

A high pitched howl of rage pierced the sky, followed by a…. stirring… beneath the ground.

Some huge shape heaved below the ground, rippling out from the morgue in a shock wave, as that which was trapped was unbound from their cage.

A rusted cage.

A psychic pulse suddenly crippled the townsfolk surrounding the morgue as the GUTMOTHER emerged from the Mortis, followed by a horde of twisted abominations and zed. Trapped in a cage by the Grave Council months before, at the end of the last burning season in September, the RAIDER QUEEN escaped her prison.

Her pent up rage was a physical presence, rippling from her as it was answered by something gargantuan in the earth below. Foul tentacles of some creature emerged, from the greater body trapped just below the surface, still partially within the Near Death and partially formed into the rotting carcass of the Mortis Amaranthine. The corpse of the massive GRAVE LEVIATHAN, thought killed when it emerged from beyond the horizon, answered the call of the Gutmother.

The line broke immediately. All thoughts of trying to forge a perimeter were lost as a frantic battle emerged at the Cross Roads. Answering call to arms, townsfolk rushed from the Depot and the General Store to repel the Raider Queen, trying desperately to gather some form of order in the wake of the psychic shock wave that wrecked those that were defending the procedure. Blow after blow struck into the Gutmother, but each healed almost as fast as it was dealt. Her long capture had given her regenerative abilities time to supercharge, and each time she should have been struck dead, the Gutmother screamed and came back even stronger.

She would not be caged again.

As the Vados restored some measure of organization to their defense, reinforcements and other shields and guns arriving to lay waste to the zed that followed the Gutmother, turning their weapons to try to suppress the Raider Queen. With a wordless screech, she turned and fled into the darkness, refusing to give the town a chance to capture her. In the chaos of the Leviathan below rising again, the Gutmother escaped and the night quickly stilled once more.

For now, the morgue was barely functional, the procedure to place the Morgue Seed was complete. But in doing so, they had released the Gutmother once more to plague Bravado.

a Grave Leviathan

Despite the threat of the Gutmother’s return, the morgues had been returned to some measure of function. However, each time someone emerged from the new proto-morgue, they came out with four debilitating CURSES. General Rampart suggested there was a scientific explanation for the maladies, but it didn’t stop the Mystagogues and grave heads from applying a bit of their own mysticism to the conditions. Regardless of the origin or name, each of the Curses left the newly returned crippled and vulnerable for a significant amount of time. Coupled with the weakness, the very act of bringing a person across the threshold exhausted rare materials and the person’s very Resolve.

A secondary consequence of the ritual the night before was the release of a monstrous GRAVE LEVIATHAN. Formed from the corpse of the Leviathan that was slain last year, the zombie remains of the creature were trying to escape the Near Death but stopped by their sheer size. However, Grave Ruptures provided a method for the tentacled maws of the creature to escape, and the massive bulk of the creature created tectonic quakes in its near vicinity. Any time the creature approached, the ground itself rippled like the waves of the lake, casting zed and survivor alike off their feet.

As long as the massive undead creature was stuck within the Near Death, any attempt to correct or fix the wound would be vulnerable to a large attack from the Mortis itself. There was definitely a tie between the release of the Grave Leviathan and the escape of the Gutmother, and the town realized that would need to prepare to deal with both the Gutmother and the Leviathan if a confrontation could be created.

Polling the Electorate

The morning after the Gutmother’s return was met with a surprising amount of normalcy. Several of the members of the San Saba Board arrived in town early Saturday to meet with constituents before retiring to Eureka Tower for the Stakeholder’s Meeting. Boss Debs, General Rampart, Felicity Redfield, Sinker Swim, Dr. Stewart, and even Tabitha St. Mercy convened for an impromptu Board meeting in the Depot, hearing citizen requests for new proposals and listening to the townsfolk about the upcoming votes.

This was the first time that the Board was provided options to amend and change the Charter of the San Saba, and the prospect of having a say in the law was sure to get people interested in politics. In addition, the Board was recognizing smaller factions publicly based on a petition basis, provided members of that town faction could get sponsorship from a Board member present. Lastly, if someone could collect 100 signatures from stakeholders, the Board would add an item to the agenda to vote on based on the popular will of the people.

Three major votes were being suggested for a vote by the San Saba Board:

  • The first vote was written to make the sale and trafficking of Crystal Candy illegal throughout the San Saba. The anti-drug law was met by broad support of the Board and many citizens in the town. The loss of Boss Wyatt, and the loss of Infection from several Law Dogs that died raiding a Crystal Candy Shoppe were fresh on the minds of many voters, though a few folks were worried about the seemingly broad language of the law. According to the opponents of the law, in some interpretations it could imply that the very act of being a psion was illegal, not just the menace of Crystal Candy.

  • The second vote concerned ratifying the temporary seat given to the Junkerpunks, currently held by Admiral Sinker Swim, an official seat on the Board. Despite the veto of the Junkerpunks joining the board two years ago by the Chair, their plucky perseverance was paying off. While the Board members were in town, several impassioned pleas were presented from the town in support of this vote, particularly the efforts of Tink, a local DJ legend. If the vote passed, it would mean the Board would have SIX seats instead of five, and the Chair’s voice would become more necessary in the case of tiebreaker votes.

  • The final vote, and perhaps most contentious, was the blatant attempt by Tabitha St. Mercy of claiming power over the Law Dogs in the absence of Boss Wyatt. With Wyatt still too weak from the various Curses inflicted by passing through the Cicatrix, the Board was split over the proposal. Some were worried about recent riots in Essex, the successful assassination attempts against Takheeta, Felicity, and Boss Wyatt, and even an attempted assassination against General Rampart that very morning! The would-be assassins attempt against Rampart solidified the Grave Council vote in favor of law and order, and Rampart spoke in favor of making sure a clear chain of command was available should the leadership of the Law Dogs be absent once more.

Several new vote petitions were circulating through the town, but when the Board retired from the Depot for the trip back to Waking, none had gathered enough support to earn an immediate vote.

a gauntlet to remember

At the Gauntlet for Abe Callaghan, Postman, events suddenly escalated when Boss Wyatt of the Law Dog Union confronted Warden Tabitha St. Mercy about her documented unlawful behavior. As grumbles rose from the gathered townsfolk, Boss Wyatt pushed against Tabitha’s authority as a Justice of Sin, claiming to have proof of her misdeeds. The Warden denounced these accusations, saying that her power derived from the authority given her by the San Saba Board, and any attempt to obstruct her justice would itself be a crime against the San Saba.

Tensions quickly skyrocketed, as Tabitha haughtily dared Wyatt to try and stop her, placing her blade at the throat of Abe Callaghan, a Breacher awaiting sentencing. As the town surged forward, Tabitha attempted to retreat, taking Abe as a hostage with her. Despite a number of masked guards at her back, the mob broke her legs and wrenched Abe from her grasp. That was not the final say in the matter however. Raising her gun in her red-gloved hand, psionic power burst forward from the Justice, towards a fleeing Abe. Two individuals threw themselves in the path of this deadly projectile, and instantly died as guards bearing the symbol of an animal skull on their armor dragged a wounded Tabitha St. Mercy away, to an unknown location.

Despite the obvious assault on law and order during the Gauntlet, the trial of Abe Callaghan was not over. General Rampart stepped up to demand that the trial continue, despite the obvious lawlessness of the attack on St. Mercy. As the continued trial threatened to descend into violence once more, one of the Law Dogs, Jasper Kline stepped up to intervene and suggested a minor fine for Abe. Rampart refused to allow Jasper to simply apply a minor punishment and reminded him that the law said a Justice of Sin would administer the punishment — and Jasper was a Law Dog, not a Justice.

Slim Straightedge, one of the trustees of the Railroad Conglomerate, stepped up to remind the General that he was actually a part-time Justice of Sin and could fulfill the role as long as Rampart would be willing to accept that outcome. After checking his contract to find the Merican was surprisingly correct, the General demanded that some form of actual punishment be applied to the errant Postman for the destruction of the Grave Ledger. Rampart suggested stripping the title of Postwalker from Abe Callaghan, so that the punishment would remind them of their misdeeds in the way that a slap on the wrist would not. He was clear he wasn’t seeking the death of Abe, but Slim and Jasper finally came up with an alternative solution to appease the Grave Council leader.

Abe would spend their heart and soul retrieving others from the Morgue until they could do no more. It was a punishment in that the taxing behavior of effort and will in using the proto-Morgue would make Abe vulnerable to later challenges, but aided the Grave Council and the town through community service of retrieving the recently deceased. Disgruntled but sensing that other actions would earn him the same fate as Tabitha, General Rampart relented to the punishment suggested by Slim and a Gauntlet to Remember was finally ended.

healing what was broken

With renewed instruction from Rampart on how to better use the proto-Morgue, the town set out to retrieving those that had died the night before. While a normal morgue would require the talents of a Graverobber or Grave Attuned to work, this functional creation of the Grave Council and the morgue seed from the Sequoia Wastes allowed anyone with a strong back and strong mind to aid in the retrieval. The example of Abe Callaghan’s labor created a sudden call for the Vados to the proto-morgue to assist.

With a significant effort of Resolve and Mind, a person could be removed from the Morgue more intact than the night previous. However, the strange maladies known by the superstitious as "curses” continued, if in a slightly more manageable state. Those returned came out with less of the debilitating conditions, but it was proof that the Morgue could be improved and fixed. Research and investigation continued into the new entrance to the Mortis Amaranthine, trying to find a solution to the over-healing of the Cantankerous Matrix.

The key to the puzzle would be the GUTMOTHER herself. However, the last she had been seen in town was in the direction of a pack of the notorious Murder Goat Deer. The terrifying creatures were well known in the area and at the height of their mating season. In addition, the pollution in the lake was continuing to cause rampant mutation in the local creatures and the MGD were getting bigger and meaner by the week. One of the largest of their kind, the mighty Slaughter Goat Deer had been tracked by a few foolhardy hunters to a lair near the lake. Eager to find where the Gutmother was hiding, a team of survivors was dispatched to deal with the MGD and to try to scare the Raider Queen out of hiding.

While within arms reach of the MGD lair, the Aberrant hunters in the party began to feel the pervasive and oppressive cries of the Mortis blurring the lines between themselves and their surroundings. This lair had been formed on the ground used some many months ago as the final resting place of the Gutmother, an entrance into the RUSTED CAGE of her year long imprisonment.

They knew in that instant, without a shadow of a doubt that the Gut Mother was alive, present, and communing with the Murder Goat-Deer of the Den, somehow controlling them. More concerning, it felt like her consciousness had merged with the grave Leviathan as well! In some way, the Gutmother’s psionic resonance was like a twisted manifestation of Faith in its own right, causing both zed and critter alike to follow her will. But, if she could control the MGD, then perhaps it could be disrupted in a similar manner as a forced crisis of faith...

The hunters were acutely aware that, as the Gut Mother’s making and unmaking permeated the very soil and mycelium around her once-cage, it had positively desecrated the Den with malice and madness. Like an unholy venom bled into and sucked out of the Imprint of the land itself, the Cicatrix scar they found in the lair felt rotten and ugly and somehow under their very skin. They could feel more than hear the screams of madness and the crackling howls of a rabid wildness, beckoning them towards bloodshed and sacrifice.

Heart of Darkness

The battle was fierce, but brief. The Murder Goat Deer hiding in the warren charged into the line of the hunters, seeking to gore their flesh with hardened antlers and rending teeth. Prepared for the assault, they began separating the Slaughter Goat Deer from the pack, searching out for their true prey - the Gutmother. Even the smallest MGD was a threat, and as one of the baby fawns stabbed its horn through the heart of a hunter, his friends quickly drug him away from the rampaging beast before it could finish the murderous blow.

The faithful of the hunting group reached out to the scar on the top of the Mortis Amaranthine wound in the lair, gathering their thoughts and emotions into a shield of faith. Reaching through the protective the lens of Faith and into the shattered physical and psionic imprint of the Rusted Cage, they could feel the ground falling from beneath their feet. Their minds were shredded and remade, shredded and remade, spreading into a terrifying awareness of every wet, heaving breath lurching through their chests. The beat of hooves, the flow of dirt like water around them, and the roar of blood rushing through their veins with the deafening, primal hunger of a rabid dog unleashed after what feels like an eternity of restraint.

Pushing through the resistance of the Gutmother, feeling her IMPRINT nearby but so far away, they dug deeper into the cyst, searching for the answer. The danger was impending, alive and intoxicating, an unburdened cacophony of crowing laughter and violence that threatened to drag them under its swell -- until it stopped short, suddenly, like a bowstring pulled too-taught and refusing to snap. Or, more aptly, like a cruel tether binding the last vestiges of captivity - and mortality - in place. Even so, the cacophony of that place threatened to bleed into their minds, slithering into the psyche, threatening to ooze and coat their own Imprint in its virulent whispers until some part of their overwhelmed mind recognized the danger.

With a shout, they severed the link all at once.

For a brief, glorious moment, they were aware of it all, interconnected like a zealous hive -- and then it was too much and the connection was broken from under the crushing weight of the Gutmother’s malice...

But in their gore-covered filthy hands they clutched an imprint crystal, brimming with the memory of the Gutmother, of a single, perfect death. Without a shadow of a doubt, the power that made the Gutmother seem indefeatable was tied to this tiny fragment of a crystal. Her Imprint had merged with that of her Rusted Cage, but part of it was trapped in the palm of their hands.

Inside, the memory of a perfect death, the key to the Gutmother’s defeat. With the words of ancient Barogue burned into her mind during her first imprisonment, the chants of “Imprint is Matter, Matter is Imprint” sealing the bolts of her prison was an opportunity to use that power against her once more. As long as the final killing blow could take place near their entrance to the Mortis — the proto-morgue at the center of the crossroads, the limitless life of the Gutmother could be halted for good.

sonata of the cyst

The attack on the Murder Goat Deer den has awakened the Gutmother to the threat that the survivors had uncovered.

Answering a call that was felt, and not heard, the dead began to stir in the Mortis. Trapped within the liminal space between primordial Death and infinite Rebirth, the Imprint of the Gutmother had tied her power to all of those shattered imprints that lurked in the shadows, hungry and unmade. Like the most fetid rise of a symphony of the dead, a grave rupture burst open, spilling forth the undead monstrosities into the town.

One cyst burst, then another, then another, as wave after wave of the most potent undead seen in weeks sprang into being in Bravado. The same cystic void they felt at the Den spread out from the Crossroads, blurring the lines between the thoughts of aberrants nearby and their immediate surroundings. Focusing on psionic abilities became near impossible, as the cruel symphony played from within the Mortis itself.

The vile refrain of putrescence sang through the town, the undead screaming and throwing themselves at the townsfolk that struggled to weather the waves of rot and terror that spread from each of the undead abominations. The creatures were impacted imprint, thoughts and dreams of countless lost souls forced into one shell. Some had extra arms, others grotesque protrusions sprouting from their wounds. Each was a fragmented dead, like those they had faced the night of Takheeta’s failed ritual a month prior, each an infected wound trapped with the Gravemind by the healing power of the Cantankerous Matrix.

However, the work of the Grave Council, the graverobbers, and every citizen like Abe Callaghan that had poured their will into the proto-morgue was working.

The wave of putrescence was contained in a way. Like setting their own time to the monstrous melody, the survivors had changed the tempo. The construction at the crossroads created a single exit for the infection, and like expelling pus from an infected pimple, the dead were emerging at a predictable place. The preparations of the morgue was allowing the trapped rot to escape and to provide an outlet to express the cyst that was trapped below, created by the ravages of the Rusted Cage.

Once, this cage held the Gutmother, but now it was open.

All of the pent up biomass was being released, the coming surge of zed causing a spectral and haunting whistling to emerge from the site of the Gutmother’s original breach the night before. Like too much air being forced through a pin hole, the sonata of the cyst wailed a mournful tune into the night sky of Bravado.

In order to destroy the cage for good and banish the Gutmother, they would need to bring her to the site of her imprisonment and apply the Imprint of Perfect Death as they incapacitated the Raider Queen. Unmaking the weave of decay that bound her to the cyst, they could render her mortal once more. From there, they could re-bind the threads that were unmade that night so long ago, ripping out the Gutmother’s connection to the Cantankerous Matrix, and severing the cord.

The waves of undead were fought back, at first monstrous Abominations, Tanks, and worse. Each time, the Gutmother wailed her song, her sword flicking left and right at the throats of the survivors, evading each attempt to draw her close to the morgue. It was as if she sensed what they were trying to do, bleeding out the cyst and luring her into the trap. As the cyst pulsed again, expelling fresh horrors from the Gravemind, the creatures were different with each successive wave.

The crest of the cyst was foul and terrible, but like an infected wound the worse was trapped just beneath the surface. The other built up pus and bile was no less foul, but it was perhaps less potent. The impacted memories of those that had died were trapped near the surface, and as those creatures were slain, the ones that followed were slightly less fractured, less unmade, and more “normal”. What was once a mutated Tank was now a multi-limbed Burster, as it melted away to the lowly Shambler.

Depriving the horde of the more powerful shock troops, the defenders began to cut off the paths of escape for the Gutmother. The phalanx pressed against the dead, while skirmishers flitted about in the darkness at the edge of the woods, driving her back into the waiting swords and axes of their friends. It was a slow slog, chopping through what seemed like endless shamblers, the wave of foulness unending. It was not about a quick and fast tactical fight, but a battle of will and endurance, each survivor needing to conserve their defenses and energy to stave off weariness and exhaustion.

Finally, like a clarion call at the climax of the symphony, the Gutmother’s screaming and twisting form was dragged to the cyst at the crossroads. Focusing their faith, will, and hate into the Imprint Crystal of Perfect Death, several weapons descending in concert, a stunning percussive thump as the Gutmother’s head was severed from her body a final time.

She was mortal, and she was dead.

The whistling from the cyst has quieted. There were a few scattered shouts and clangs of metal slicing into undead flesh as the last of the horde was repelled, but the sonata of the cyst was over. The wound had been cleansed of the infection, and the pulsing psionic energy of the Cantankerous Matrix sealed the wound as it was intended. Instead of building up scar tissue by trying to fight against the impacted cyst, the healing was the vision that Takheeta had promised when she started her great work. The morgue was healed, and the cycle of death was restored once more.

This time for good.

other threads of note during THE CICATRIX

  • Local entrepreneurs Candy and Donny set up shop outside of the Anyport Pool, newly opened for the start of the Burning Season. Saltwise and Semper Mort alike got to enjoy fun in the sun, splashing with their friends in a diversion from all the chaos of the weekend. Drinks with fancy umbrellas and treats were enjoyed by the pool during the siesta by all.

  • A group of Lovelace entrepreneurs came to town to recruit teams for SNAIL RACING. Using the monstrous house-sized snails native to the Widow’s Peak, the Lovelace’s envisioned a months-long race of the Snails across the San Saba and were looking for early investors into the new sport. A few of the townsfolk eagerly bought into the scheme, including the Road Royals, the Lucky Seven, the Shields of the Lonestar, and even Felicity Redfield herself. Stay tuned for more from the GREAT SNAIL RACE.

  • Something happened late Friday night that had a legion of masked assassins leaving town to an unknown destination. Rumor has it there was some kind of shakeup in Murder Inc., as a challenge to the authority of the leadership was made. The details are hidden and secret, and far too many knives directed against those with prying questions to speak further..

  • A pair of whimsical ne’er-do-wells accosted strangers on the road to the lake. Dressed in fancy masks, hats, and elaborate capes, they pillaged and rampaged while the town was distracted by the diversion of the water and sun.

  • Friday night was particularly deadly, as the visiting Nemesis of Luxury, Leslie of Standards and Practices, was in town for the titular Friday the 13th. The story of Jason Vorhees was shared in the dark of the night, a repeated refrain of breathing marking the arrival of the terrifying Nemesis. While some were attacked and killed by the Vorhees, the primary motivation seemed to be to show the local TV the ropes, explaining the different techniques and practices of the haunt that marked their faith. Some say Leslie found some VERY interested students to carry on his message for the future…

  • While many folks in the town were enjoying the luxuries of the pool party and Candy Heart’s hospitality, the King’s & Queen’s Court of Bravado were having their own moment to the side. A lone traveler, weary from the road and the journey brought to their hands an ancient relic of the Courtiers, an intact record, preserved from the ages in a vinyl sleeve. The traveler promised other relics could be found, provided the faithful were willing to put themselves to the search…

  • The Rook, a mishapen psion that is known as an enemy of confectioners across the San Saba was seen around town trying to find clues about a new Crystal Candy Shoppe on the outskirts. Rumors has it that they were trying to find some information about who might have been behind the attack on the Law Dog raid last month, but their contact ended up dead before they could find the proof. How convenient…

Votes of Consequence, and the power of the people

In the morning after the final death of the Gutmother, the town breathed a heavy sigh. The scar tissue of the morgues seemed to be receding and early telegrams from Essex held promising news of the effect spreading out from the locus of Bravado. While the Cantankerous Matrix was still trapped within the Mortis Amaranthine, it’s strange healing was no longer closing off access to Morgues around the San Saba. Within a few days, it was likely that most every effected settlement would be cured.

In a last ditch effort, a group of concerned citizens circulated one last petition to take to the Board before their final vote in Waking that afternoon. While many of the lesser petitions to add new laws or amendments to the charter had failed to earn enough interest, one particular vote of consequence sparked a passion from nearly the entire town of Bravado.

An amendment to remove Tabitha St. Mercy as Warden of Prudence Penitentiary.

It was a powerful statement of agency.

The mysterious Devil Dogs that had captured Tabitha the day before spoke of an agreement with Tabitha herself, that they believed Tabitha would accept the vote provided enough signatures were gathered. Some suggested that the Board would never remove a sitting board member, that the town’s very attack at the Gauntlet was a threat to the powerful in a way that they could not entertain. A few spoke out against the idea of removing Tabitha from power, for fear of someone worse taking her place, but the near riotous pack of Vados were unified in their vision. The first blow against the evil of Tabitha St. Mercy would be struck.

With names collected on an oily piece of parchment, written front and back was 142 signatures.

The rules of the Stakeholder’s Meeting required at least 100 signatures to add a new vote in front of the Chair. Each name was a vote behind the mysterious trustee that submitted the proposition. The proposal would require consideration by the mighty San Saba Board, using the very letter of the law. The voices of the people were united in one cause, and emboldened by the attack on Tabitha during the Gauntlet the night before, the final stamp was placed on the signatures by the Post Office, ratifying their effort and proving the power of the people.

There was a thrill in the air, and even as the trains arrived to take the Vados to places abroad to weather the upcoming Burning Season in safety, there was a sense of accomplishment. The Plague of the Unfinished was cured. The Cantankerous Matrix was safe. The Gutmother was slain. The strange cysts stopping the cycle of death were healing. Tabitha could even lose her seat on the San Saba Board.

It would be a new and fabulous day. As each survivor looked up into the deep blue of the LONESTAR SKIES, even the impending heat of the Burning Season couldn’t get them down…

Wrap up — what’s next?

That wraps up our Season 3 narrative, gang. Sorry this took a bit to get to you, but I was enjoying my summer break. You might have seen a particuar teaser shared on Facebook, of a certain problem brewing for the capital of the San Saba, the flying city of Waking Prime.

EXTRA, EXTRA: WAKING FALLS FROM THE SKY!

The city of Waking Prime, capital of the San Saba Territories is FALLING FROM THE SKY! Our exclusive source reveals that the famous CAPACITY ENGINE, the powerful oldcestor technology that allows the floating sky palace to move is FAILING. Last week, the San Saba Protectorate reported over 100 casualties as the port engine briefly stopped functioning. The gargantuan airship listed to one side, pitching scientists and politicians off their feet and even a few OVERBOARD!! Damage reports are still coming in, but several buildings have been damaged by the sudden upheaval, including one ancillary research structure that collapsed entirely. Construction crews are being dispatched from Essex to repair what damage they can, but the ancient oldcestor airship engine defies even the understanding of the Cult of Savannah’s Light. If the CAPACITY ENGINE cannot be repaired or replaced, WAKING PRIME is DOOMED!

Exclusive Story Continues on Page 2.

Stay tuned in the coming weeks as we begin our ramp up to Season Four. We have some amazing stories planned, our first live National Event in October, a Premiere Event in December, and a brand new team of guides and STs ready to continue making Texas the best damn chapter in the network.

Thank you for your trust, your support, and thank you for your interest in our humble stories. We are so excited for our next season and can’t want to welcome you back home to Bravado.

See you soon, Vados!

Story Recap: Collection Day

Good morning! It’s Jonathan here with a STORY RECAP for the recent event, COLLECTION DAY. The goal of these Story Recap posts is to help fill in the blanks for those that might have missed an important mod, been at NPC camp, sleeping, or simply were not able to attend the game. These are major points of continuity that might be important as our season continues, and I hope this will help with the FOMO feels.

Tickets for our next event are on sale NOW!! You can buy tickets for our season 3 finale event, THE CICATRIX today!!

You can also find our other game recaps from this season online here:

So once you’ve been caught up, let’s refresh our memories about the premise behind the event…

Premise for Collection Day

In the bloody wake of Holy Mother Queen Jasper’s final walk; Bravado’s Morgue is damaged beyond normal repair. Its delicate state, even prior to the extended use of the terrible ritual that interrupted Jasper’s connection with The Cycle, is indicative of a greater problem in the San Saba Territories, and that is the infrastructural deterioration of the morgue system; which has been ongoing since the cataclysmic damage it sustained during the final days of the Hiway War.

The Grave Council, ostensibly responsible for the morgue system’s upkeep in the Greater Lonestar, is headed by the enigmatic spiritual leader and Mystagog Takheeta Firstborn of the Imix Tribe and Commander Rampart of the Reckoners; the Grave Council’s military arm.  The Grave Council’s stated purpose, since its infancy in the wake of the Psionic Bomb, is to steward and to repair the deep structures of the morgue system; and to deliver to the San Saba people an uninterrupted and natural Infectious Cycle

To that end, Takeeta Firstborn has realigned the purpose of Collection Day; the historical holiday upon which the Grave Council collects its Death Tax with her greater ideal, and to the end of stabilizing the morgue infrastructure the entire San Saba over. She, on behalf of the Grave Council, has agreed to accept not only Brass as the blood currency for her Tax, but Infection as well. In return for the lives of common farmers and delvers, she will pay their petty debts in full. Their biomass to her purpose, and their lives to her infernal engine of change.

Let’s look a bit deeper into what happened next..

A dark ritual

Since the last days of the Hiway War, Bravado and all of the San Saba have been infected with a lasting curse, the Plague of the Unfinished. The recently returned could emerge with this terrible wasting illness if not brought back carefully by a Sanctioned Graverobber of the Grave Council, a symptom of the damaged morgues. Though treatable, the illness would continue to plague the cycle of death until the cause was addressed. In this manner, Takheeta Firstborn, high Mystagogue of the Grave Council, set into motion the first steps of THE GREAT WORK — a plan to cure, for once and for all, the Plague of the Unfinished and to repair the injured Mortis Amaranthine in the San Saba.

With the help of mystagogue and graverobber teams simultaneously enacting an ancient Imix ritual on the morgues across the San Saba, from Essex to Waking, from Widow’s Peak to the Clutch, the Grave Council could complete an unthinkable and monumental task. The task would require a phenomenal amount of effort, psionic strength, and the timely coordination of each group of mystagogues working together. Takheeta herself would lead the ritual from the site closest to the ancient wound, closest to the point that the psionic bomb ravaged the Mortis at the close of the Hiway War, the tiny town of Bravado, and home of our story.

In the early darkness of Friday, the Grave Council elite, including Takheeta Firstborn, Commander Rampart, and several of the locally contracted members of the Grave Council in Bravado, assembled for the eve of Collection Day, a grim and hopeful purpose in mind — to FIX the wounded morgues of the San Saba in one grand gesture. However, much like saving a deeply wounded person, it would be necessary to make sure that the patient didn’t fight back against the life saving surgeries necessary to repair the Morgue. In order to repair the Morgues, they must first put the Mortis Amaranthine to sleep.

However, influencing the Grave Mind is a tricky and uncertain thing. Gathering five new Dusters, fresh off the Oxline, a coat of thin San Saba dust still on their clothing, Takheeta planned to use new faces to town to offer a lullaby to the Mortis. Singing a song with voices that the Mortis had no memory of, no recollection of, and those than have never passed through the morgues of Bravado was crucial to begin the GREAT WORK. These five new Dusters, Clover, Katherine, Jackal, Wormy, and Bessie, became the heroes that the Grave Council needed to enact their ritual.

Intoning the ancient words of the Prince Undying, that “Imprint is Matter, Matter is Imprint”, Takheeta set into motion her boldest plan. With the ritual, she would temporarily “move” the Morgue to a new location, convincing the Mortis that each time a soul was returned from death it was returned to place of her choosing instead. By claiming a memory of peace and happiness from each of the gathered Dusters, they could sing the Mortis Amaranthine into a coma and allow the Council a chance to “operate” on the Morgue from a place close by, but still outside of the Morgues themselves: THE NEAR DEATH.

The Emergence of the Near Death

Takheeta’s plan centered around the use of a powerful artifact from the ancient roving city of BarogueTHE CANTANKEROUS MATRIX. This device was a curiously powerful psionic crystal, built with psitech technology from the oldcestors, once lost to the Dune Sea and recently found by intrepid explorers last year. The device had been used by Commander Rampart to create the RUSTED CAGE that imprisoned the Gutmother back in September and thought stolen in the early hours of the morning after that ritual. How it ended up in Takheeta’s hands afterwards likely involved a betrayal of the rival leader of the Grave Council.

When held, the crystal was capable of empowering a psion with limitless mind, an endless battery for the arcane workings of psionics. Whether this relic was truly a piece of the Scion Vossa, the ancient heart of Barogue, stolen so long ago by Sister Mammon in her great betrayal, it was still uncertain. Surely it would have been bigger, if it was that ancient battery? Regardless, the relic was center to the Grave Council’s ritual to lull the Grave Mind to sleep and repair the massive damage to the Mortis.

In Takheeta’s hubris, she decided that the Cantankerous Matrix was the key to her plan to fix every morgue throughout the San Saba, and so she did the unthinkable — she broke it. From the fragments, she assembled the shattered pieces of the once titanic battery into a new creation, the CANTANKEROUS MATRIX, REFORGED. This new device would enable her mystagogues to empower the rituals of the Imix tribe of Unborn, passed down for generations, connecting each of her servants across the San Saba back to one, singular point. The process of remaking the artifact into something new nearly exhausted the once-limitless energy source, so they would need a new pool of psionic power to draw from. But, having achieved the unthinkable, rebuilding a psitech device of the oldcestors, Takheeta’s plan to fix all the morgues at once didn’t seem so far out of reach.

The new relic was implanted into a shallow wound in the ground, akin to cutting into the torso of someone undergoing open heart surgery. Within this NEAR DEATH, a liminal place at once physical and beyond death, the Cantankerous Matrix would call to the sleeping Morgue nearby and redirect its efforts into the Near Death. The place was as cold as death, filled with the memories of those heroic Dusters, built around a shrine to the Barogian relic. From within, a powerful psion could continue the GREAT WORK. When someone returned from the dead, they would now emerge at the Near Death instead, and the Groundskeepers could draw them back across the threshold of death and return them to life once more, in a temporary morgue free from the corruption of the Plague of the Unfinished.

It was a brilliant plan to allow the mystagogues of the Grave Council unfettered access to the damaged morgue for their healing rituals, but it was not without its own… side effects.

the fragmented dead

The process of moving the morgue across the town of Bravado had unintended consequences. First appearing Friday night, a new form of undead began emerging from an exit of the Mortis Amaranthine. Broken and unfinished, filled with the cancerous diseases of the damaged morgue, amalgams of nightmares, the FRAGMENTED DEAD became a new plague on the town. These powerful undead exhibited curious traits of multiple zed in one form. The zombie might rush forward with the speed of a Burster, survive countless blows with the endurance of a Tank, and chatter maddeningly at you like it was a Lost Boy. The distance between the morgues, and the ritual wrought by the mystics of the Grave Council was creating these broken, fragmented dead.

This same issue began to spread. Critters that fed on the dead, like the infamous MURDER GOAT DEER, quickly mutated from the unlikely new food source. The diseased dead could also spread the Plague of the Unfinished at a touch, and even though the doctors of the town knew a treatment plan for the dangerous disease, it exhausted resources of Mind and Infectious Material quickly. Even the Gravehead Raider Clans, those raiders that “herd” packs of zombies to weaken their prey joined in, collecting new hordes of Fragmented Dead to drive into town. Bravado quickly had it’s hands full with new, dangerous, mutated zed, raiders, and critters alike.

It was clear that the NEAR DEATH was the cause of the newly Fragmented Dead, and that the process would continue until the GREAT WORK was completed. For now, there was no answer but to simply endure the new threats.

the Tax Booth & the theft of the ledger

Early Saturday morning, the next stage of the GREAT WORK took place. The Grave Council arrived, in full ceremony with their force of graverobbers, mystagogues, and groundskeepers to begin their collection efforts for the holiest of days - COLLECTION DAY. Each year, the Collectors travel to the settlements of the San Saba, settling the books for another year by collecting the debts owed for services rendered. This year, however, the citizens of Bravado were provided an alternative means of payment.

Despite an attempt the night before Collection Day to steal the Grave Ledger, the antique book that records the debts of those that have died, the Grave Council remained resolute in the face of those that opposed the collection of the taxes. For an organization of shifting bureaucracies and voluminous records, acquiring a backup copy of the Ledger from Essex created an annoying delay, but did not disrupt the opening of the Tax Booth in Bravado. Rampart’s elite Reckoners also accompanied the retinue into town, determined to keep the peace and preserve the sanctity of their collection efforts, as well as to track down the culprits that would threaten a holy relic like the Ledger.

At the newly opened Booth, a citizen of Bravado could pay their debts in alternate means, by offering up a literal “pound of flesh”, blood and bone, or even an important part of their memories. Each donation had a different rate, chosen from a “menu” of ABSOLUTIONS. These donations, oblations to the Grave Mind itself, could be offered in lieu of hard currency like Brass notes. Farmers and townsfolk alike flocked to the booth to settle up, each choosing a manner to pay their debts that they thought they could afford.

When someone gave up a memory or organ, the donor would be ushered beyond the veil of the Near Death by a nearby Groundskeeper or Grave Council affiliate. Within the chilly embrace of the Mortis, the donor would give of themselves beneath the altar to the Cantankerous Matrix, casting their imprint, their biomass, into the blasphemous well of the Barogian relic. Each offering empowered the psionic crystal, restoring its connection to the many rituals happening concurrently across the San Saba. The Grave Council had a quota to make, and they set themselves to gathering what they could from the town.

The San Saba Republic

Following the events of QUEENSGRACE, the Tribes Disparate were left with a choice that would be settled in the wake of the death of Queen Jasper. In the waning moments of the Summit, several Regents of the Tribes left the moot in anger, including the leaders of the Antler Tribe, the Oxkillers, and the JaCinto Militia. The remaining Regents signed a contract to elect Boss Lucy Debs, leader of the Local 727, as the new Queen of the embattled faction. However, they still had work to decide the specifics of their new government and promised to have an answer within one month’s time. The no-nonsense Iron leader arrived in Bravado during Collection Day, ready to announce the results of their hard work, but with a few surprising guests in her retinue.

Colonel Sabbath Jacinto, the principled leader of one of the largest Fallow Hope populations in the San Saba, had returned after leaving in disgust at the end of the Summit. Boss Debs, realizing that they could not afford the loss of the Jacinto military, had reached out to the militia commander to apologize and seek her guidance. Colonel Jacinto had been right — it was more important that the Tribes make something new, instead of simply repeating the many mistakes of Queen Jasper. They must forge something on purpose. And so Boss Debs, and her new Regents, did just that.

And thus, the SAN SABA REPUBLIC was born.

No longer would they be known as the Tribes Disparate, but rather a united nation of peoples brought together in one purpose. Representing fully 50% of the population of the San Saba territories, there is strength in numbers. The Tribes could not remain a scattered peoples recovering from the Hiway War, but must embrace being a people with a home in Essex, people with a political future in the San Saba, and people with a chance to do something different. But the leaders must work for the people, representing their interests, spearheading their faction with ethical leadership, and having very little to hide.

Moments of historical significance are, always in retrospect, defined by the decisive action of a few indispensable actors in times of flux. In the whirlwind weeks following the assassination of Holy Mother Queen Jasper of the Tribes Disparate, the election of the new Antler’d Queen, and the departure of several key figures from the Disparate tribal structure - the Tribes themselves had turned inward and sought to redefine their place in the San Saba without their departed Holy Mother, while honoring their promise to democratize their leadership and bring their faction into the robust and political future of the contemporary San Saba. 

The remaining Tribes, including the errant Jacinto Militia, had finally settled on a sweeping contract, to be signed by every participating member, that binds the Tribes together not under a monarch like the old Holy Mother; but under a Troika of power located in the municipal seat of Essex. The San Saba Republic would no longer be the tenuously strung together tribes, brought together during wartime under threat of annihilation; but a deliberate government designed to enforce the prosperity of its citizens. 

the Troika

Three leaders were chosen, each representing a branch of the Troika, each specializing in their own way for the future of the San Saba Republic. Each of the three Authorities would manage the day to day affairs of the faction, and they would be from whom policy and position would ultimately derive, not just a singular leader in Boss Debs. 

However, as the Chair refused to add new seats to accommodate the changes within the faction, they required the new government to choose a single face to be seated on the San Saba Board. Lucy Francis Debs, still preferring the “Boss” title over “Queen”, was chosen to represent the Republic, and to stand at the head of the Troika.

The Queen would hold the power of veto, and Lucy’s can-do attitude is generally understood to be the moral compass of the Triumvirate. With a focus on the infrastructure of the faction, particularly leveraging the deep pool of resources in Essex, Boss Debs now hopes to provide manufacturing to settlements across the San Saba, and in doing so, create an indispensable niche for her people. 

The leader of the Jacinto Militia was chosen as Justicar, the military leader of the San Saba Republic. Colonel Sabbath Jacinto’s renewed zeal following her return would continue to redefine the presence of the Republic in the wastes of the Lone Star. Sabbath’s next goal is to set forth to establish a military presence in Essex, and allow the Republic military to be able to modernize beyond anything the San Saba Wastes has seen before.

The last of the Troika, the Spymaster is a necessary role in the contemporary San Saba, where law is listless and contracts are made of words. The leader of the Cali*Co Caravan, and open Final Knight, Malorous Mab now stands as the Spymaster. Malorous Mab has been a shadow broker in Essex since before the Fountainhead Incident. In the verdant and misty years that followed, Mab has only further developed her network of beggars, brokers and bruisers. Now, with the formation of the Republic, it is in the best interest of her charges (and her own philosophy) that she pursues power for her people not just in Essex, but across the San Saba. 

With their new leadership, the Troika of the San Saba Republic set their sights on their real task in Bravado, seeing justice served for the death of their former Queen.

A very surprising Gauntlet

Shortly after the assassination of Queen Jasper, the villainous Grandfather Nichols, Nemesis plague doctor, escaped from an attempt to bring him to the Gauntlet to stand for the crime of Regicide. Marina La’Sander, leader of the Longberth fleets, struck him down, enacting the justice of the Tribes Disparate on the spot, rather than wait for the Law Dogs to do their part. However, this death enabled Nichols to slip from the grasp of the law once more.

Dr. Nichols, in a surprising move, simply returned once more to the town of Bravado, just in time for the Gauntlet, a man of his word. He had promised Jasper Cline, Vado Law Dog, he would simply report as directed should they go through the trouble to post a wanted poster for him. He had spent the morning leisurely mocking the Law Dogs in Bravado, walking brazenly through the town in open defiance of his impending trial. He repeatedly suggested that Tabitha St. Mercy, and the Justices of Sin, would simply let him walk free, ignoring his obvious crimes of murder and regicide.

Nichols, with an annoying and sarcastic grin, stood by as Tabitha read out his crimes, ready for the absolution he expected. However, his grin faded quickly as her dagger slipped between his ribs and stole his last breath in one swift blow, a few quiet words whispered in his ear as he died. He barely had time to express his surprise before the light faded from his eyes. Justice was served, despite the rumors to the contrary.

Next, the Regent of the Longberths, Marina La’Sander, stood defiantly against the Warden of Killhouse to answer for her crimes. With Boss Debs, Colonel Jacinto, and Mab nearby, she defended her actions in killing Nichols, citing his many crimes, his assassination of the Queen, and the foul control he could wield against the unwary. One of the townsfolk, Roux, tried to mediate on behalf of Marina, arguing that Junkerpunk law should apply instead, but Justice Tidus, the Justice of Sin officiating over the Gauntlet was unimpressed by Marina’s argument. With a single round from his ornate revolver, Marina was executed for her violation of San Saba law, proving that even powerful faction leaders could not escape justice.

Lastly, the criminal Valentina Systole, charged with the murder of several Law Dogs in Essex was brought forth at the Gauntlet. She was a former champion of the Local 727 during the Summit, and even Boss Debs and Mikhael the Red offered their infection to protect the young Red Star champion. Others still offered to stand in the place of the champion but Valentina refused the assistance, standing to face their punishment alone. Another shot, another body at the crossroads.

The grisly business of the Gauntlet was concluded, but it would not be the last death that day.

Broken Rituals

Agents of Murder Incorporated, following their zealous charge to remove threats from the Wastes, followed the corpse of Dr. Nichols into the Near Death in a foul MURDER DIVE. Within the temporary Mortis, they struck down the Nemesis once more, ripping Infection from him within the morgue itself, regardless of the disruption or consequences of bodily entering the Mortis to commit their task. It was over as quick as it began, their grim purpose complete. However, Nichols survived the attempt, having barely enough Infection to return from the Morgue after the murderous assassination. On his way out of town, cleared of his crimes by his death at the Gauntlet, Nichols spoke of traveling north to Requiem to start a new project far away from the San Saba. Unfortunately, his train never arrived in Requiem, and his whereabouts now are unknown.

The second interruption to the plans of the Grave Council was more direct. Masked assassins, faceless minions of the shadowy organization, struck directly against the leaders of the Grave Council itself. Both Commander Rampart and Takheeta Firstborn were targeted by bounties by the criminal organization, but Takheeta was the first to die. At first, it was thought that she was a victim of an attempted bombing of the Grave Tax Booth. Despite escaping the trapped booth, she was ambushed shortly after and her throat ritualistically slit, despite the threat to disrupting the ritual.

The warnings of the Grave Council became dire, as the Fragmented Dead began seeking out the Near Death, throwing themselves at the Tax Booth in an attempt to get at the powerful psionic crystal within. While Takheeta returned after the assassination, her focus had been broken, and it was clear something was wrong and time was running out. The groundskeepers and Auditors of the Grave Council stepped up their efforts to collect biomass and brass from the town, desperate to reach their goal before the sun set and the ritual to save the Morgues concluded. In the end, the town managed to not only meet the goal for donations and absolutions, but exceeded it! Hopefully, the additional resources would be enough to counteract whatever disruption the interference of Murder Incorporated posed to the Great Work.

Drawing her three most powerful mystagogues from Essex, Takheeta prepared for the final stage of her ritual. She brought forth the ancient relic, the Cantankerous Matrix, from its shrine within the Near Death, drawing upon the renewed pool of energy it held. Bastioned with the biomass and offerings of those that owed a Grave Tax, the psionic crystal was brimming with potential, a powerful tool towards the ritual’s requirements. With agents in each of the major morgues across the San Saba performing their part at exactly the same time, they would leech the poison from the Mortis Amaranthine, and heal the sickness that was plaguing them. A ritual circle was enacted at the Crossroads, at the heart of Bravado, a geographic singularity at the exact center of the town, exactly as the sun set — providing a way to synchronize the rituals across the San Saba. Intoning the words of the Imix Tribe, Takheeta attempted to conclude her great work, achieving the unthinkable. Her ritual would be the seal that linked each of the other cities together into one titanic effort, healing and banishing the wound within the Mortis.

But such a great working would require a sacrifice to fortify the ritual. A vessel for the energies of the Cantankerous Matrix, and a way to link each Grave Council ritual across the wastes.

A lone voice emerged in the darkness, volunteering their life, their Infection, and their very being to save the town, to save the San Saba, and to return some measure of balance to the Mortis. The Vado Unborn known as EIGHT, offered to sacrifice every last drop of their Infection to merge with Grave Mind. Despite the protest of his friends and family, Eight was resolute in facing oblivion, provided the town could defend the ritual from disruption. Takheeta ritually executed Eight, using blood and bone, flesh and form to bind and connect the Cantankerous Matrix with the wounded morgue, forming a construct known as a GRAVEMIND SHARD.

But something went wrong.

Whether it was the distraction or assassination, or simply arrogance on behalf of the Unborn cultist of the Quiet Path, the power of the ritual was growing out of control. Undead began swarming against the ritual circle, throwing themselves bodily against the defenders, while the very ground itself opened into a cavernous maw, consuming Takheeta, her three loyal mystagogues, the body of Eight, and anyone close enough and unlucky enough to be swallowed whole by the Mortis Amaranthine. It was if an immune response of the Grave Mind was reacting to the attempts to heal it, and the Great Work was undone in a terrible earth rending climax.

Takheeta and Eight were gone, along with the Cantankerous Matrix — bodily consumed by the Mortis Amaranthine.

The End, and beginning, of Takheeta Firstborn

Takheeta was dead, every bit of her last Infection consumed by the Grave Mind, torn to pieces by the power of the unholy energies she attempted to control. Her three acolytes were shattered, every last Infection consumed in the chaos, and their forms sundered and fragmented alongside the very soul of Takheeta. Their combined zed would emerge soon enough, fragmented, mutated, and unholy like the rest of them, as the ritual had been disrupted at its climax. Eight’s sacrifice was suspended and directionless under the ground, the ritual continuing to build in power without a way to discharge the energy.

Commander Rampart arrived back in town on the Oxline, fresh from the successful ritual in Essex, seeking to understand what had gone wrong in Bravado. The rituals had been completed in each of the other locations, but the final note of the melody that they shared had not been sounded. If it was not completed soon, all of the potential energy, all of the biomass and absolutions offered during Collection Day, the sacrifice of Eight would be for naught. After communing with the Near Death, the Rampart and the graverobbers of the Bravado isolated one last chance to recover the progress they had made with the ritual.

The Mystagogue leader had been sundered into three pieces, her id, ego, and superego shattered into psionic shards of memory cast across Bravado. Her shards had emerged, twisted into the broken forms of her former acolytes, three abominations each brimming with psionic power of Takheeta’s considerable gift. Each had been drawn near a site of a Morgue exit, one near the old miner’s shack at the head of the Oxline, one at the original morgue of the town at the Hallows, and the last at the edge of Widows’ Walk. The remnants of her personality were seeking out the psionic energy at each morgue, seeking to consume it in their ravenous hunger. Each shard was still a fragment of Takheeta, and that meant that it might be possible that their imprint could be recovered if the town could destroy each of the echoes of Takheeta simultaneously. The contained energy in the shards should be enough to complete the ritual, if they acted quickly. They split into three strike forces, spread out across the town, to fight the undead things that Takheeta had become.

Like clockwork, the horde of Fragmented Dead that had emerged within the shadow of Takheeta’s failed ritual answered the call of the mishapen copies of Takheeta. The wails of the mishapen zed became murderous as the hellish things screamed with psionic force, imbued the zed with adrenaline and speed, or even bolstered their numbers by reshaping and repairing the dead as soon as they were slain. The three zed hordes were held back by the brave citizens of Bravado, each strike team operating at each distant corner of the town at once, while they focused on stopping the shards from consuming the power of the ritual into themselves. It was a race to isolate and defeat the shard, before they could consume and destroy the morgues they emerged from.

The Takheeta clones were destroyed, and the congealed essence of their personality, formed that tainted Infection into shattered psionic crystals. Each crystal was brought back to the ritual site to complete the work Takheeta started. If the shards of Infection could be combined, they could combine her Imprint into something known as a GRAVEMIND SHARD, a gestalt form for the consciousness known as the Grave Mind. While many attribute a sentience to the Grave Mind, it is truly an egoless intelligence, shared between all of the imprints stored in the Mortis at that time. A Shard would simply provide an outlet for that ego of the person contained within, a voice for the grave, flavored by the person that they once were. Gravemind Shards like this were rare, but it would be a way to contain her essence for a time.

However, Takheeta was quite mad and barely sane, even while alive, and especially not now in the shattered psyche of the broken shards of her and her acolytes combined. If left unchecked her undeath would surely pervert and corrupt the Gravemind Shard and the final healing ritual of the Great Work into something terrible. Her machinations, zeal, and ambition in life would bleed into the Shard and simply create a problem for another day. Takheeta needed what she sought most in her life and her journey on the Quiet Path — balance.

A lone and quiet voice reminded them of the sacrifice of Eight. He was strong, resolute. He was determined. He could be the soldier to keep the tainted energies of Takheeta in check. He had emerged in the darkness, volunteering life, Infection, and their very being to save the town, to save the San Saba, and to provide some measure of balance to the Grave Mind. A hero. The sacrifice of Eight could be redirected, a way to contain the final energies that Takheeta was controlling, and perhaps it would offer the balance that Takheeta needed to form a stable Gravemind Shard, their combined strength balancing out the inequity of that pairing.

The energy was building out of control, and if they could not contain the force of the Cantankerous Matrix deep within the ground, something terrible could occur. The fragments of Takheeta had been called out by Eight’s sacrifice, their blood and bone an irresistible lure, remerging from the depths in the singular, empowered form of Takheeta’s zombie, whole and more dangerous than ever. An impromptu morgue emerged at the Crossroads, filling in the fiery collapse of the former ritual with the hate and rage of the fragmented dead as they emerged in a massive horde.

With the life sustaining power of the Barogian relic infused into her body, Takheeta rose with a cry, drawing a vast horde of the Fragmented Dead to her side, slaves to the dark will of her unholy power. The shard-thing that was once Takheeta Firstborn roared in defiance, empowering the dead further, turning even the lowly shambler into a mighty terror, with the power of a Hate, the speed of a Burster, and the endurance of a Tank. The dead crashed again and again into the line of defenders, breaking through occasionally as they took down with their mutated strength. Takheeta herself was a dark siren, singing a song of death and reincarnation, a living entity of energy and power corrupted by her inability to contain the awesome might of the relic she was infused with.

It would take three times to defeat Takheeta, dragging her corpse to the ground and into the center of the aborted ritual circle from before at the Crossroads. Each time, a team of aberrants slipped into the chasm left by the ritual, holding Takheeta down while the shard of her personality and Infection, imbued with the strength and personality of Eight, was driven back into her. Each time, the shard leeched some of the broken essences of her mystagogues, and solidified the intent and purpose of the ritual, pushing it closer to completion.

The roars of the dead grew in tenor, echoing the building crescendo of the ritual. With a final hissing blow, driving the wedge of psionic crystal into the screaming undead monstrosity that once was Takheeta, the force of the ritual rang out in a single clarion call. Thrown from their footing by the shifting earth, the quaking ground, and spasming Mortis, the defenders of Bravado were thrown back from the Crossroads as the battle was ended in a massive pulse of psionic energy. Echoing in the darkness, in each of the cardinal directions, the power of the synchronous Grave Council rituals answered the call, concentrating the healing energy of the Cantankerous Matrix and directing it into the wound of the Mortis.

Across the San Saba, each of the ritual sites directed the energy of the collection biomass and psionic power towards a singular purpose. The ancient memory of that psionic bomb that ended the Hiway War was sealed away for good. The destruction it had wrecked on the Mortis Amaranthine was reversed. The gaping, infected tear in reality that marked the weakness of the morgues across the San Saba began to close, growing and scarring over, rebuilding the missing pieces into a uniform and purposeful whole. The sacrifices, absolutions, and effort of Collection Day were salvaged, completing Takheeta’s mad dream, her legacy, and finally advancing the cause and charter that the founders of the Grave Council had envisioned.

The morgues of the San Saba were healed.

the silent morgues

The corrupted form of Takheeta had been slain, all three shards of her being killed and forcibly combined with the sacrifice of Eight to form a new Gravemind Shard. The Cantankerous Matrix was nowhere to be found, perhaps contained below, inside the Mortis Amaranthine, along with the imprints of Takheeta and Eight. The healing energies of the Grave Council ritual had worked.

But perhaps too well.

Psi-tech always has a cost. And that cost is often more than you realize, or were willing to pay. It was a lesson that the people of ancient Barogue and the Prince Undying had learned so long ago in the fall of the roving city. The psionic and faithful ritual of the Grave Council and the Quiet Path had healed the morgues, but the energy continued, pulsing repeatedly into the fungal growth of the Mortis, directing it to heal and regenerate any wound, even the very orifices that provided an exit for the reborn Lineages that emerged. The effect seemed to spread from the Crossroads, stretching out to each of the morgues in Bravado within the hour, sealing away any entrance or exit that could be used to enter the Grave Mind.

If you died in Bravado now, you couldn’t come back.

The scar tissue was forming quickly, and no amount of cutting, hacking, or chopping at the ground, at the fungal protrusions could arrest the healing power of the Cantankerous Matrix. It was a limitless battery, constantly healing the damage as fast as it was dealt. The last legacy of Takheeta Firstborn had been twisted into a curse, sealing the Mortis Amaranthine away from use. The Groundskeepers could not retrieve the recently dead. Necrokinetics proved useless to reach across the barrier of death, and even stitches to the Abyss proved fruitless.

The familiar wail of the dead, the psionic pull of the grave was silenced. Psions could feel nothing below them, in the depths of the Mortis, but for a singular, pulsing energy emerging from where the Cantankerous Matrix and the combined shard of Takheet and Eight must be interred, as in a final tomb. The sacrifices of so many seemed hollow, in that moment. The silent morgues stilled any conversation, as folks tried to grapple with the idea that any death may be the last.

By the morning, telegram communication revealed the strange scarring had progressed as far as Essex. At the rate of spread, it would cover the San Saba within the week. Several citizens of Bravado who died in the night didn’t return, and the phenomenon was spreading to much more heavily populated areas, where the loss would be felt even more deeply.

The silence of the grave spreads deep shadows across the San Saba.


other threads during collection day

  • The crazy scientists of NASCENT became desperate for funding and enacted a last-ditch effort to blackmail new victims, in the form of “NASCENT’s Blow Out Sale”. By implanting strange “pyroclastic” bombs into a handful of individuals of the town, they attempted to charge Brass to remove the devices or else. They even managed to plant a powerful bomb at the Tax Booth that threatened to collapse the Booth, the Near Death and the hopes of the citizens of Bravado in one firey explosion. Thankfully, the bombs were disabled and the NASCENT scientists killed and run out of town.

  • Multiple delves occurred throughout the Collection Day. One, led by the mysterious scientists of the Newton Institute, cracked into a newly discovered bunker in search of ancient treasures. The Ark Society returned when a sinkhole opened up underneath the Depot, employing those fool hardy enough to delve into the depths to repair the damage. Earthquakes from the Grave Council ritual provided new opportunities to access caverns below, and several valuable artifacts were discovered in the process. In each case, delvers emerged with treasures from the tunnels below Bravado, reminding all of the value in spelunking into the depths of the strange facility under the town.

  • Old memories returned Friday night, called once more by the distracted Mortis. Several Nemesis of Old Bravo made an appearance, including Jason, Samara, Nonoez, Leatherface, and Scarecrow. Nemesis believe that by becoming something so evil they can force someone to embrace good in equal balance and rise up to stop them. While recent Nemesis like Eyeless Jack and Grandfather Nichols had been an issue, this was an echo of a past time when the Nemesis Cult ruled triumphant in Old Bravo. The crazed cultists of the Tellingvisionaries were responsible for murdering several townsfolk in their rampage through the town. Luckily the next trade weekend falls on Friday the 13th, so they are unlikely to return…

  • Boss Wyatt, leader of the Law Dogs, was assassinated on Saturday, thought to be another victim of the murderous cultists of the Many Faced Masks. He was poisoned with a foul concoction that robbed his life in a heartbeat, but did not return from the morgue. He is thought to be still trapped within, another victim of the terrible consequences of the botched ritual. Without a leader for the Law Dogs, it would be challenging to keep peace in town if things continued to get worse.

  • Later in the afternoon on Saturday, Commander Rampart and his Reckoners tracked down the culprits of the theft of the Ledger, bringing their crime to the attention of the Law Dogs, for a violation of the San Saba Charter itself. Based on an anonymous tip from a “concerned citizen”, likely someone who had inside knowledge on the actions of those that did the deed, the leader of the Grave Council was able to psionically interrogate one of the Postwalkers of Bravado, Abe Callaghan, and force a confession from them via telepathic control. It was a powerful crime indeed, as the Charter of the Board gives the Council specific authority to collect the Grave Tax. The young Postwalker would be brought up on charges of “impeding the Grave Tax” during the next month’s Gauntlet, though curiously it was clear that several must have been involved and only the single person was charged. Whatever deal Abe struck with the Grave Council must have bought clemency for their friends, but what punishment will be leveraged against them in May?

  • Several Law Dogs were murdered in a botched raid on a Crystal Candy Shoppe late Saturday night. During the raid, they attempted to stop several criminals from harvesting Candy from their helpless victims, only to be ruthlessly struck down in turn by their opponents. Unfortunately, they died after the death of Takheeta and the silencing of the morgues, so they remain trapped within the morgue, further straining the power of the Law Dogs to enforce the law in Bravado. With Boss Wyatt and the majority of his men lost inside the Mortis, unable to escape, the criminals of Bravado are surely celebrating their surprise fortune.

Wrap up

It was a busy game, as you can see.

It all certainly sounds exciting. How will we resolve the morgue crisis? What happened to those that died and didn’t come back like Boss Wyatt? What happened to Takheeta and Eight? What happens if YOU die during the next event? How do you face a world where you might only live once?

Let’s find out together!

On my next Rules Ramble, we will narrow our focus to just one Skill that seems suddenly important for the 60% of our game with Criminal ties, DISGUISE and Proficient Stealth!.

Get your tickets TODAY and join us for THE CICATRIX, our SEASON FINALE, and check out a final melody to say goodbye to Collection Day, performed by our very own Kalen Lewis:

This Month’s Kalen S. Lewis Song:

When I Went Down to ‘Vado to the tune of This Song by Lost Dog Street Band

Teaser for “THE CICATRIX

One last thing. It wouldn’t be a Story Recap without a glimpse into the future. Let’s look at the premise for the next event, a sneak peek into what is in store for our characters next game:

The morgues in Bravado have stopped working. The dead have not returned for the better part of a month. Small shrines to the missing dot the long roads between settlements and the aberrant population reports that the wails of the dead, so often cacophonous in the psionically demented mind, are silent. 

Takheeta Firstborn has been killed, cut low at the penultimate moment of her triumph, and transfigured into a Gravemind Shard; a kind of semi sentient intelligence that occupies a greater portion of the gestalt that is the local “Gravemind” itself. Her death has made way for General Rampart, new leader of the Grave Council, to impart policy. But, in evoking the Cantankerous Matrix to heal the Morgues across the San Saba, instead the Grave Council has metastasized a fatal threat to the Lonestar, and the Infectious Cycle itself. Over the past several weeks, tumorous protrusions have formed like a layer of scar tissue, cutting off the exit for the newly returned from the Grave. 

Now, General Rampart has formulated a scheme to re-open the morgues across the Lonestar Wastes, not by punching through the thick layer of cutaneous tissue that has formed like a plug over every morgue the entire municipality over, but instead by treating the aberrance from the inside; by delving into the abyssal depths of the Mortis, through layers of skin and skein, to where the heart of the cancer pulses in darkness and filth.

In the midst of this emerging crisis, the politics of the San Saba Board still looms. The annual Stakeholder’s Meeting is scheduled for May, despite the threat of the broken morgues. During the Meeting, each of the contracted members of the various factions get to weigh in on the upcoming changes to the San Saba Charter, though some chafe against the law and protest the carnival of capitalism. Surrounded by machinations and manipulations, conspiracy and chicanery, wheeling and dealing, politics and persuasion. the leaders of the Board and their many plots stirs something dark beneath the ground.

Deep below New Bravado, and deeper still than the thin layer of biomass where the Gravemind, and The Eightfold Mother supposedly lurk; against resonant and bloodghast, recollection and reaver, the denizens of Bravado will need to combat the lurking memories that have pooled beneath the morgues like so much sump dump, and press upwards towards the surface until the scab breaks, and the biomass and blood may cleanly osmote between reality, and the Grave.

SEE YOU NEXT TIME VADOS, JUST IN TIME FOR… THE CICATRIX!