Characters & Stories of Note for Season 4

It’s Jonathan here again with another Wednesday Rules Ramble! Each week, I’ll introduce a topic that will be important in an upcoming game, explain some new mechanic or system for DR:TX, or discuss a particular rule from the DR Corebook. In each ramble, I’ll focus on explaining that topic in more detail than the book alone can provide and help provide one place to reference all the various errata or rulings that might be relevant. Sometimes I’ll even drop a few Story Teasers or provide a summary of the last game in a Game Recap.

Tickets are on sale until FRIDAY for our first event of the season, THE VALLEY OF FEAR!

Make sure you get your ticket before the end of the week, so we can have your pre-reg packet ready when you get to site. It’s been a long summer, so save your time catching up with your friends in Bravado instead of waiting in line at check-in!

Today’s blog post will touch on a bit of the narrative for Season 4, particularly with some Stories and Characters of Note for the story line this year.

We did a post like this last season, and it was a great way to help you know which characters and stories to pay attention to when they show up in the game. While each game will have it’s own distinct plot, there is also an overarching story running through the whole season. If you want to be involved in the big events, it’ll be easy to identify what is important by the people that are involved, and by paying attention to the big threads of story.

The Season 4 Premise

Every season, Shan & I start out with a Design Doc that lays out our intentions for the entire season arc. From there we build out each game, but this is the first bit of inspiration we shared with our STs for the new season, and today we share it with you.

New Bravado is built on old land, older than the towns that came before it, and older still than the San Saba Territories in which it resides. The land beneath New Bravado dates back to before The Fall of Humanity, when the world was heavy with splendid and delicate thing, before the Archons descended upon the works of men and before the Mortis Amaranthine or, at least, before we knew it existed and of the various and terrible Grave Minds that are like unthinking gods below. 

New Bravado is built on old land, and inscribed in the unbreakable firmament of the ancient and chasmic structures far beneath the arid soil is an ancestral site of unimaginable age, a Facility from before The Fall. Perhaps the lost cradle of Barogian myth, the underground campus upon which countless bodies of unwoken Semper Morts sleep in cryostasis. Ensconced in their intentions, these long-changed humans sleep beyond the fall of humanity and into its eventual rise. But, the Survivors who make a living on the surface above, beneath the apocalyptic sun, seek the deep knowledge and priceless artifacts of an age before. 

New Bravado is a boom town, but instead of mining gold and silver from the hills and steppes that surround it; Vados delve into the deep structures of the facility beneath the city and brave it's sometimes dangerous, and always bizarre, depths in pursuit of glory, riches or knowledge. In recent years, the slow but steady discovery of Grave Tech and Crystal Technologies in the halls beneath Bravado has lead to the formation of not only a governing body over the geographical area around Bravado, The San Saba Board, but also the formation and growth of sister settlements such as Drywater, Essex and Widow’s Peak. 

What truly lurks beneath New Bravado looms in the future, yet. But in Season 4 of DR:TX the town of New Bravado will need to take the reigns as one of the most advanced cities in the Lone Star, and, either allow the Greater Wastes to grow wild and free, or to move it’s educated, deadly population to becoming not simply a participant in the San Saba story, but it’s primary author.

Sounds exciting!

Stories of Note (Season 4)

Let’s take a look then at some threads from last season, plus a few more that we will explore during our games this season:

Waking is Falling?

We released a few WASTELANDER articles this summer, with some rather conflicting reports about the majestic floating city of Waking Prime. The capital of the San Saba, this monument of oldcestor technology is held aloft by the curious and misunderstood Capacity Engine. A mighty airship the size of a small city, Waking is the seat of the San Saba Board, the heart of the Railroad Conglomerate, and a testament to the power of the factions of the Lone Star.

While there are multiple points of view of what exactly happened in Waking in the last few weeks, some uncomfortable questions have been asked of the leadership of the San Saba. Is it wise to have the capital of the San Saba in a floating city that could crash to the ground? From a daring raid on the city two years ago by the Oxkillers, the nefarious Stormchaser raider clans that harass it in the skies, or just the radioactive waste it leaves in the wake of its passing, Waking Prime has had its share of challenges but emerged triumphant each time. What does the future hold for the capital of the San Saba?

The Fate of Tabitha St. Mercy

This season will decide the fate of the villainous leader of Killhouse, Tabitha St. Mercy. From the very beginning of our 3.0 story, the story of Prudence Penitentiary has been meant to reach a conclusion and an end. We’ve never shied away from difficult stories in DR:TX, but we do want to provide agency for players to dismantle or remove the various organizations and personalities that make up the evil of Killhouse. This season will continue the player’s efforts to bring a close to the story of Tabitha, one way or another.

Last season, Tabitha saw a challenge unlike any other as players stood up to the Warden of Prudence Penitiary in the middle of a public Gauntlet in May. They also passed a vote at the Stakeholder’s Meeting and held an armed negotiation with the Warden to step down from her post at the prison. Now, Tabitha hasn’t been seen in months, but it seems like her influence has not waned at all. How can you deal with a threat that is no longer as easy to find in her seat of power at prison? How can the concept of law and order survive in a society where death is not the end, and the violence of the zombie apocalypse renders folks hard and heartless?

The Crystal Candy Question

Crystal Candy seems innocuous enough at first. An easy to purchase Gizmo, capable of a cheap Mind restore available to characters with the Skill Criminal Influence. It’s a well designed item mechanically, as it is very useful when you first start out in a game of Dystopia Rising, but becomes less useful as you gain more ways to use your Resolve. It’s a cheap and effective item, and has remained a solid source of trade and regaining lost Mind points since the start of 3.0.

However, it was revealed that the primary way to “create” the drug is through the painful and deadly harvesting of psionic crystals from the very brains of kidnapped and exploited psions. Several Law Dogs even died during a raid on a “Candy Shoppe”, a temporary chop shop and charnel house set up to harvest the drug from helpless psions. Last season, the San Saba Board put their foot down, passing a law that makes the drug illegal throughout the Territories. In fact, this season you can’t even BUY the item from the Buy List any more (at least via the Post Office…).

However, opponents suggest that the vaguely worded new law could be a slippery slope to pursuing psions themselves as illegal. While the question of ethics has always been murky or crystal clear regarding the drug depending on who you talk to, this season will see the consequences of the war on Crystal Candy. How will the criminal underworld react, and will they chose to find new and more dangerous ways to create illegal substances to sell, or will they continue with business as usual?

Characters of Note (Season 4)

Like we did last season, we want to introduce a few new faces and remind you of a few characters of importance during Season 4. I’ve included some images of most of them, so hopefully you recognize a friend-shape in the mix. Two faces on here are the same as last season, but are still important in their own and unique ways.

Felicity Redfield, CEO of the RAILROAD CONGLOMERATE

As she was born into a lesser Pureblood House before the Hiway War, following its conclusion, Felicity Redfield found herself in a unique position of power. As one of the few remaining members of the extended Lineage League, Felicity used what remained of her clout and dowry to form the Railroad Conglomerate and spent the ugly, irradiated years following the Hiway War building train-tracks across what is now the Greater San Saba. 

Her crowning achievement is the settlement of New Bravado, which she owns down to the rocks the city is built on, followed shortly thereafter by the creation of The Iron Ox; a locomotive of monolithic proportions, designed to endure the threats of the Greater Wastes as it trucks goods between settlements at speed.  The tracks of the RRC Oxline stretch further each day as the influence of the rail system continues to grow. Felicity has spearheaded “delves” into the uncharted ruins underneath Bravado in search of some unknown goal, using resources found beneath to fund future endeavors.

Deeply motivated to create a more magnificent future in her image, Felicity is a founding member of the San Saba Board. Despite multiple assassination attempts this last year, Felicity’s can-do attitude and plucky persistence is symbolic of both the spirit of the Lone Star and the citizens of Bravado. Her company, thanks to a merger in 04” PHW, still retains two of the six votes needed to change San Saba Law, and her alliance with the Junkerpunks has ensured that only a tie-breaking vote from the Chair can prevent most of her efforts from passing. Though she has not always seen eye to eye with the Board and the Chairman, her ambition has continued to reap dividends for the RRC.

Tabitha St. Mercy, Former Warden of Killhouse

Tabitha St. Mercy, former Warden of Prudence Penitentiary (more frequently known by its moniker of “Killhouse”) is seen frequently in the company of her pet killers, the Lifers of the XXX Wing. This Retrograde Hedon is pragmatic, business-like, and always happy to make a deal. Tabitha St. Mercy can still offer a variety of social contracts. Need some unwanted parties disappeared? The sick, the broken, the marginally useful? Send them to Killhouse Prison! For a nominal fee, the former Warden is all too happy to cut out your blighted parts of society and relocate them behind tall walls where they can be used for her own means. Greed is her only master, and as she has lost power in Bravado and lost face on the San Saba Board, this impulse for restitution has only intensified. 

Tabitha is still a voting member of the San Saba Board and a supremely influential person in the Territories, though she has been recently suspended of her duties on the Board by the Chairman.  Each year after the great Indulgence, she gathers up her errant Lifers and returns them to the Prison, but each year she asks for them to be taken alive, not dead. With her no longer in power at Killhouse, it remains to be seen what will happen during the Indulgence this year. What will happen when the former master of Killhouse is no longer chained to her station?

The Rook, psion terrorist

The Rook is a powerful psion, marked by a massive growth of psionic crystal emerging from her forehead and left eye. Made infamous by a recent attack on the city of Essex, this powerful psion is a mysterious and mostly unknown threat to the San Saba. Branded as a terrorist and criminal, the Rook has been hell bent on going on the offensive to protect aberrants from any threat, real or perceived.

She has led several successful raids on Crystal Candy Shoppes of the San Saba, which both makes her a vigilante rival to the Law Dogs, but earns grudging respect from those she has freed or that are familiar with the horrors of the confectioner’s trade. Her message is divisive, but she speaks a truth to power in a way that few can ignore. Her stated ultimatum and goal is to not only give the San Saba a chance to protect the helpless and exploited, but to push them to do it in the only way she will accept. She is a vocal and outspoken opponent of the new laws against Crystal Candy, foretelling an escalation of “justice” that will turn on her people, those capable of wielding the dangerous powers of psionics.

The Rook is not a reasonable person, and is a general force of chaos despite generally enacting what could be considered by some as noble behaviors. However, the echoes and reminders of former vigilantes in the Lone Star’s past like Four or Sparrow cannot be ignored or forgotten. The recent violence in Essex has split her following, with some branding her a murderer of innocents like the others, while others insist that she was framed by her enemies in the government of the San Saba Board itself.

Adam Moriarty, The spider

The former Lifer and spy master has been named the new Warden of Prudence Pententiary in the wake of Tabitha stepping down from the post. Hand chosen by the former Warden, Moriarty is a known as the Spider of Prudence Penitentiary. Moriarty is a criminal influence in his own right. He deals in information, buying, selling, and trading, and always has a scheme under way.

Adam is a Tellingvisionary, and a member of the Nemesis Cult. He fashions himself after his namesake, looking for a worthy Adversary. When he finds this Adversary, he will 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.

No one knows where Adam comes from. He is a Pure Blood, 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.

The Eightfold Mother

During the last Collection Day, the former leader of the Grave Council, Takheeta Firstborn died while attempting to cure the morgues of the San Saba. Takheeta was barely sane at the end and in the shattered psyche of the Gravemind, the shards of her and her acolytes combined into something terrible. Her machinations, zeal, and ambition in life would bleed into what is known as a Gravemind Shard — a manifestion of personality, id, and ego with all the powers of the undead hordes the Mortis Amaranthine could create. 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, a young and brave resident of Bravado. 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. The sacrifice of Eight was redirected by the Cantankerous Matrix, becoming a way to contain the final energies that was formerly Takheeta to form a stable Gravemind Shard, their combined strength balancing out the inequity of that pairing.

The new presence in the Gravemind has been called “The Eightfold Mother” by the fanatics of the Grave Council, but they promise that the Shard remains dormant. However, the recently deceased all speak of a voice in the darkness of the Gravemind — a voice that reminds them of home and beckons them to stay with her. Small shrines to the Eightfold Mother are common now in Bravado, but are quickly cleared away by Groundskeepers and Graverobbers, intent on keeping the slumbering presence and her new followers in check.

Wrap Up

That’s it for today, Vados! I hope you enjoyed the sneak peek into the story this season. There’s so much to be excited for, from a collection of overarc stories written by our talented Storytellers, our first live National Game of 3.0 - THE NECROPHAGE, and a killer premiere game in December. We can’t wait to start Season 4 off with a bang!

There’s a few more characters of note left to be seen, but we’ll save some of them for a later post as the season continues. See you next week, as we get ready for our last teasers for the game, in the rules you need to know in your journey to the VALLEY OF FEAR!

DR:TX Season Four And The Sudden, Surprising Death of Your Ego

Howdy! It’s Amber with an update from the DR:TX Admin Team!

We’ve been very quiet on the blog front this summer, but that’s been because we have been working on two important things. The first and most important thing was that we allowed ourselves to take a ‘break’, and while we still were working; we let ourselves experience the relief of going slower and having no deadlines. That time is coming to an end for us and now we’re happy to show the second thing we have been working on:

Our entire season line up!

Before you eagerly scroll to get your hype up; we want to talk about some very cool things happening in Season 4!

Last year, Shan and Jonathan wrote the entire season overarc and got input from the Storytellers (our Ops Guides) on each episode, and while that method allowed us to have a successful season that completed laying the baseline of our 3.0 setting – it did not leave room for the talent of our Storytelling Senate to make new stories!

So this year, we are trying a new system and allowing the Storytellers to execute their own story overarcs. September, November, January, February, March, April, and May will all have their main plot points written and directed by our Storytellers. We believe that ownership over the monthly events will allow for better collaboration with other Storytellers and you will see even more interconnectivity and cohesion between stories you have bought into. We’re super excited about this and we hope you are too. So, if you see your pal running an episode hype them up; cause we certainly will be!

Without further ado, have some cryptic, evocative hype for Season 4 to which you will apply no suspicions at all.

Zero.

DR:TX Season 4

Valley of Fear (S4, E1)

September 16-18th, by Ted LeBeau

“Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself; but talent instantly recognizes genius.” - Doyle 
“The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die. As well the minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind.”― Friedrich Nietzsche

The Necrophage: Pyroclasm (S4, E2)

 October 14-16, by DR:TX Team [NATIONAL EVENT]

“Every lover is a soldier”- Ovid, Amores

Find out more about our linked National Event: THE NECROPHAGE

Imprint by Design (S4, E3)

November 11-13, by Brett Pittman & Mae Wilder

“A man's mind is stretched by a new idea or sensation, and never shrinks back to its former dimensions.”- Oliver Wendell Holmes

The Emerald Gala (S4, e4)

December 9-11, by: DR:TX Team [PREMIERE EVENT]

“We fly to beauty as an asylum from the terrors of finite nature”. -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Crisis of Faith (S4, e5)

February 10-12, by Chase Lira & Stephanie Patrick-Munoz

"The unreal is more powerful than the real. Because nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it. Because it's only intangibles, ideas, concepts, beliefs, fantasies that last.”   — Chuck Palahniuk

The Rage That Fills Her Sails (S4, e6)

March 10-12, by Ed Sampson & Joel Vold

“For I have dipped my hand in Muddied Waters, and, withdrawing them, find ‘tis better to be a commander than a common man!” - Bartholomew Roberts 

Hells of The San Saba (S4, e7)

April 7-9, by Ren Lewis & Andrew Harper & Ash Sexton

"Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one - the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts." - C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters

Vox Populi (S4, e8)

May 12-14, by Heather Halstead

"Instead of the cross, the Albatross about my neck was hung." - Samuel Taylor Coleridge

That’s it for today! See you next week Vados!

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:

• Season 3, Episode 1: THE SECOND FOUNDING

• Season 3, Episode 2: CARNIVAL MACABRE

• Season 3, Episode 3: BLOOD FEAST

• Season 3, Episode 4: THE LONG NIGHT

• Season 3, Episode 5: BEYOND THE HORIZON

• Season 3, Episode 6: QUEENSGRACE

• Season 3, Episode 7: COLLECTION DAY

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!

The San Saba Snail Races - Part 1!

Don’t miss the LIVE RACE FOOTAGE starting around 5:40! (and the sound effects are pretty great too…)

Johnny Atom here! Standing in the pastoral fields of Widow’s Peak overlooking the holding pens where some of the finest, and largest, specimens of snail-kind are shuffling their pseudopods in excitement to take off! 

For those of you listening at home, I would like you to close your eyes and imagine the scene. Gleaming gastropods in every direction, each with their teams of drivers, feeders, medical support staff and guards, ready to brave the wastes in pursuit of the prestigious San Saba cup, and potentially, the Pentacle Crown!

This long-distance race is the first of its kind to be attempted in the San Saba, and while some of the elders of this Quiet Folk community are shaking their heads at the ruckus, I must say, some of these young people seem very keen indeed to get out and see the world atop the back of their shelled charges!

In a few minutes, the starting pistol will fire, and the first leg will begin! Each leg of this race awards its own trophy. Our team of titanic terrestrial mollusks will ooze their way around the San Saba Territories, from Widow’s Peak, to Waking, to Prudence Penitentiary, to the Clutch, then Essex, finally crossing the finish line in the town of Bravado! The racing team who comes in first in the most legs of the race will be awarded the shiny San Saba Cup. Should a single snail manage to sweep all five legs, (deeply ironic as they have no legs of their own), then we might even see someone walk away with the Pentacle Crown! 

Today begins the Longwalker Derby, the first leg of the Cup where our friends will glide their way from Widow’s Peak to the shining city of Waking to the northeast. Did you know that a properly fueled snail can move up to 10 miles a day? I didn’t! Did you know that many snails are carnivorous? I did. Found that out the hard way… let’s just say a racing snail is a hungry snail… anyways! some of these contenders look like they might just set some new records!

And now, let’s introduce the teams competing in this leg of the race!

First up we have SNAILLOW HOPE, sponsored by the Fallow Hope of Bravado! This handsome fellow is painted with the Fallow Hope symbol on his army drab shell, and I gotta say, that paint job is handsome! It’s a bit far to pick it up, but there are quite a few well-armed folks in Snaillow Hope’s pen, chanting “Snaillow, snaillow, snaillow. Here comes the Fallow!” and I heard they even gave their snail a proper Fallow Hopes baptism to ensure that, should they encounter any hellfire in the course of this race, he will be properly protected!

Next on the starting line, with a fetching bright red shell painted with a white Ram’s silhouette is JUBMO SLUSSY. Fun fact, snails don’t have horns, those things on top of their heads are tentacles that provide sensory information! I am sure Jubmo can hear the chanting of their team “Ram… Guard! Ram… Guard! Ram… Guard! RAMGUARD!” I certainly can! 

Moving down the line we have THUNDER TAI- er….. DOUBLE T! Sponsored by the Shields of the Lonestar and wearing a star emblazoned on its blue shell, this energetic specimen seems to be doing a last minute feeding on some infectious material. I can’t believe they eat that stuff, but apparently herds of giant snails have been known to take down zed, and even raiders when hungry. Their fans are chanting “OooooOOOOOoooo Thunder!” but if I have to watch this thing eat in front of me I might have to change that to “Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh Thunder!” That’s a LOT of teeth and slurping!

Moving along before I lose my lunch, we have a snail so emblazoned in corporate sponsorship that you can barely see its shell! Ms. Felicity Redfield may have lost some of her infection, but she certainly hasn’t lost access to her pocketbook! Either way, SLIM MARGINS looks ready to zoom to the profit… er finish line with a flush of speed! You can almost hear the investors chanting “Return on Investment!” in its wake. 

Next up is a rather sinister looking snail, draped in black bunting. This is the hometown hero, the Lovelace Family’s very own champion who has been sweeping local races for the last few weeks. The WIDOWMAKER is fed solely on a diet of rare herbs and raw murdergoatdeer meat. Absolutely the betting favorite behind the barn, Widowmaker is set to make his owners a pile of brass, and even more in stud fees in the next breeding season! I asked some of the local Lovelace race attendees if there was a cheer for Widowmaker but they just stared at me… quietly… terrifying!

Finally we have… oh my gutmother is that an ENGINE strapped onto that snail? That is. Vados and Gentleman there is a full mastercrafted V8 engine and a massive rifle mounted onto this mollusk! There’s only one crew this snail could be sponsored by… yes… it’s TURBO SNAIL. I understand this snail has been baptized with the music of the road and if the giant 6 painted on its side is any indication, it can probably break most landspeed records. As the Road Royals say, “Turbo Snail is the best, Turbo Snail can beat the rest!”

Well and now we’re getting down to it, the race is about to begin! Looks like the Town Council of Widow’s Peak will be doing the honors here… Immacula stepping to the starting line as the snails slime their way into position. Gotta say, I’m glad it’s her holding that pistol and not Clauthia Lovelace to her right, I start sweating any time I see one of those veiled folks holding a weapon… and… 

SHOT FIRES

They’re off!.... 

…

Our front runners are about 3 feet from the starting line now and based on the side-eye some of those jockeys are giving each other it looks to be a real tense race! 

…

It’s really heating up out there folks… Slim Margins has made some tentacle gestures at Widowmaker that, ( I don’t speak snail), but which seem to be offensive. The jockey riding Double T just took out a picnic basket and seems to be settling in for a pleasant lunch up there. I’ll.. uh… report back when they get a little closer to Waking… 

Johnny Atom, signing off!

Obstruction of Justice; A Lawdog Vignette

Scraping, clawing, tugging, ripping, tearing him apart -

A scab, a seal, it’s sealed - no way out. But how can he - a man? a person? an imprint - dole out Justice if he cannot return? And if he should return, then she -

“Justice?” She laughs, screeches, bellows; voice like fingernails across his bones, if he had bones or she had fingernails to scratch them.

But there is no her, there is no him, there is nothing and no one and everything all at once and they are trapped. Suffocating. Imprint upon imprint upon imprint, pressurizing, compacting, building. Wrongness permeates the space, the space that does not exist, and it seeps, a mortal wound for an immortal imprint that would bleed the world dry. 

She roars, and he holds - a suture to stem the flow that is her, and she laughs, and he is torn-

---

“I’m just so grateful, I - sir?”

Wyatt blinks, ice blue eyes slowly refocusing onto the face before him as he is drawn back to the conversation. The Lawman’s thoughts had wandered after Nichols fell, mind reeling with the old man’s final words, the implications there, and who was..? Ah, right. The Lovelace girl - Faith, was it? Always pretty on-the-nose with their names, them Lovelaces.

He blinks again. The woman in front of him looks up expectantly, sweetly, eyes wet and red. He smiles - because what else can he do but smile? When the good people of the San Saba thank him for the work that he and the Union do to keep them safe, even when the upper echelons of what passes for Justice here is as rotten as the flesh of the Warden herself.

“No thanks necessary ma’am, really. We do what we can.” 

She seems dissatisfied with the answer and frets for a moment, fumbles the drink in her hands, then pushes it toward him with an earnest expression.

“I - at least have some hot brown. You seem tired.” 

Fair enough, he concedes. Wyatt can feel the fatigue fraying his edges as they speak. He’s so close, so close to having everything he needs to set his carefully laid plan into motion. It had cost so much, taken so long, and the weariness in his bones grows deeper by the day. But it was all in the name of Justice, and Justice would be served.

He sighs, defeated by the crocodile tears threatening to spill onto the woman’s cheeks again.

“Yeah, alright. I appreciate that, ma’am. Thank’ee.”

She smiles gratefully as he takes the drink, and says something else that he misses as his mind drifts again. There was so much to prepare, so many contingencies to consider. He had worked too hard and too long to get what he needed for this - everything must be accounted for. The Chairman would likely not be pleased, but Wyatt’s Union contract was airtight, and this fell well within the scope of protecting the citizens of the San Saba territories. There was proof to ensure it, now.

He absently sips the lukewarm liquid and makes a face; it’s bitter, entirely too bitter for his taste, but he downs the rest in a single pull regardless. The woman wanders away eventually, and others take her place before him. He nods as Deputy Jasper says something to his left, and tries to pull his focus once more to the present. His head swims slightly. Several of his men idle around their Boss now, speaking to him, asking of him - but his focus drifts further, his vision blurs at the edges.

Wyatt chokes, coughs, his mouth tastes of hot iron. The Reclaimer doubles over as acrid bile explodes up his throat, violently ejects itself from his body, splatters red across his boots - his father’s boots. The lawman’s blue eyes roll back as his sclera burst their vessels, a gloved hand goes to his throat as if to stem the tide of the inevitable death overtaking him, to no avail. 

Why now? Why now when he is so close to stopping -

His body hits the ground of the Crossroads with a soft thud, motionless.

---

-She tears at his back, the idea of his back, through the bars of their cage. A thousand hands with ten thousand claws that rake and pull and shred him eternal. He holds.

Furious, she screams - he screams, they scream - tries to scream, no sound from no throat, but he holds, and holds - he must hold. 

The imprint known sometimes as Wyatt Ulysses Nightengale is torn asunder and knitted again; a wound, a scab, a scar, an endless cycle of fleshless agony that has become his charge. The other imprints grow louder, roil around them, packing tightly, squeezing, brimming - the pressure builds, and builds, because there is no way out, he cannot get out, cannot let her out-

---

“Alright y’all, listen up,” The Deputy addresses the small assembly of Law Dogs. The few that are left. Most are in a pitiable state, stretched as thin as they will go and worn from fighting the losing battle of maintaining order in the absence of their leader and many of their peers. One of them looks to be actively bleeding. The Deputy winces, and clears their throat.

“The Boss is still stuck down in the shit, and none of the Morgues are lookin’ to open back up any time soon. The Grave Bureau ‘parently has their best on it, but it’s gonna be a while yet ‘fore things clear up again.” One of the gathered company cannot help the pained noise that escapes him, and the Deputy throws the man a sympathetic look before continuing. 

“I know y’all are tired, but listen - we have some relief comin’ from up north. The details is above my pay grade, but it’s s’posedly gonna help big time. We’re gonna contract a ‘Robber with the Bureau and send some of the local pack in ‘Vado down after the Boss at Ground Zero.” The group perks up a bit, renewed hope shining in several of their eyes in place of dull despair.

“I dunno what’s down in that scar or how it’s gonna go, but we’re gonna hope for the best and trust our people to get the job done. I mean, shit,” The Deputy exhales a hard laugh, raking a hand through unkempt hair and giving the scattered assembly a tired smile. 

“What’s the worst that could be down there?”