Through the Breach

I forgot and wrote two adventure logs.

The party is looking for more information that could help it repair the large statue creature known as Eloise. One of the members who could read, that literary looking person who helped me understand the contract for the deposit of my gambling winnings, said the creator of Eloise had left some notes and he felt we could find more notes if we went to the local asylum.
Shades of the old gods! This didn’t sound to good to me as I wondered why someone smart enough to make such a fine machine would also be sick. The only asylum I knew of was the tuberculosis asylum. There weren’t nothing in there but sick people that momma didn’t want me near. So I never went there.
But I was assurred that this wasn’t that type of asylum.
We set off without the statue creature as we felt her power levels wouldn’t be adequate for her to make the trip and return. That led me to believe we’d be gone for days or weeks even. However, we had a nice stroll to the asylum within a few hours.
We’d cut through the territory of a neighbor’s. They seemed like friendly folk, though they were well armed.
I was looking to get me a nice gun so I didn’t have to do all my fighting in a face of some of the creatures here on Maulifaux. Seems to me like sometimes a man wants to keep his distance, though I still prefer to get up close when my opposition is of the human type.
Those friendly folk loaned me a heck of a gun. It has seven barrels. Heck, I can remember when I couldn’t count that high.
I was itching to use it, but the time came to say fare thee well to the neighbors as they was nice enough to guide us across their land. And, despite the cruel conditions of the place, there were no incidents.
As we entered the grounds of the asylum I could see it was much bigger than the one back home. It had more than one building!
The strangest thing happened as we crossed the first lawn. A fine sunny day and warm too, without clouds, and snow seemed to grow from the ground.
Even in Northern Quebec I’d never heard of any such thing.
Soon things looked the worse as critters began appearing out of the snow. I was scared by this (and I was pretty interested in seeing how that seven barrelled gun would perform too) so I shot one.
Another member of the party, that phony colonel, he nearly pissed in his pants and he shot one. I don’t know what his excuse was.
But the critter shook our shots off.
That would have put the fright in me. But the critter proved to be a friend. Or at least it wasn’t an enemy. It didn’t fight us but rather invited us to come inside a dachau nearby for some tea.
By this time it was cold enough that I was obliged to accept.
Inside was an old man. He said he lived there all alone except for the snow critters, which he called constructs.
He said lots more too, but I was gawking at the inside and the outside. It was as cozy as a Saturday night before the hot stove inside, while outside it seemed to be like late January—- but only around this one building.

Time came for us to be off. I guess we learned where this Albious, or whatever his name should be, is. Apparently these are healthy climes for the right sort as Albious, and this old man too, are both still alive after many, many years.
Least that’s what the old man said.
Though I’ve learned enough at home to know old people stretch the truth till it covers the earth in Bull Shit.
We headed out from the old man’s place to another building. As I said, there are lots of buildings in this asylum. I wish we’d have had that back during the great influenza outbreak. Would have done wonders if the sanitarium had more than a single building I think.
The next building had no snow. I was looking around for it and for the snow critters too. Instead these monsters began appearing all over the lawn.
I was remembering how friendly the frosty snow man was at the previous place and decided I didn’t want to get on the wrong foot of these critters, so I didn’t fire.
I shouldn’t have saved my shots.
More than 20 of them began appearing. Soon I was worried we’d be overrun with the damn buzzing and crawling things.
A fight began soon enough and we were getting the worse of it too. In fact, one of the critters harpooned that other fella who says he was a blacksmith. Dragged him away to inside the building too.
Damn, now we’ll need to go rescue him.

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I wish I'd stayed home in Quebec

The big statue was left behind, in the hope it would be there when we came back.
I’m not sure if we will be back.
The group entered an old asylum. I showed a brave face when we met the first of the inmates, a man, I think, who seemed able to control the weather.
Although I’m from Quebec, where the winters are notable for their intensity, this old man was doing things that had me frightened white. Snow drifts in the mild weather formed about his building and then the snow drifts came to life.
The party stayed calm, except for two of us who took pot shots at the forming ice demons. I winged one, but was assured by him that I hadn’t done him any harm!
In all my life I had never been talked to like that by a snow man. I was very quiet after that and more mindful of using my weapon. That may have been a mistake. But more about that in a moment.
The old man seemed amused by us. I don’t think many flesh and blood humans, least ways living ones, come visiting him these days. I should say, he ain’t the monster I took a shot at, leastways I don’t think he was.
He told us we were on the right path to find the man who made our living statue. I confess I had thought now that it might be a good time to pull back and go home while we could.
Instead we plowed on, leaving the old man in his ice castle.
I’m sorry we didn’t have the sense to stop there. Those chilly rooms were a better welcome than what came next. At least twenty monsters appeared before we had crossed the grounds into the next building of the asylum.
There weren’t no ice monsters here, just monsters. They were getting thicker and more aggressive. That silly phony baloney colonel walked right up to one of them and nearly got his head handed to him. Another speared that guy who says he’s a blacksmith like me. Then he pulled that fellow in like he was a fish, and ran faster than a horse can run into the building.
If it hadn’t been for my “friendship” with that fellow, he never done me no harm and I’m not one to allow a fellow to be treated like a fish, I should have turned and left right there.
Call me foolish, but I’m running after him like a dog chases a bone. Probably right into a trap too.
This seven shooter gun will be right handy if we get into a scrape. I hope I survive, living and breathing instead of one of these dead walkers, and am able to see my mama and papa again. I wish I’d never left Quebec with her cold and dark winters, lord help me.70745.jpg

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Kermit's Journal: Wyncrest Asylum

We decided to next explore the asylum, two miles north of us. I walked over to Jesse’s block and paid one of the kids the crystal inkwell I’d found to take a note to Garth James (Kermit’s Handler). I wrote that we were exploring the asylum today and I’d check in in person as soon as I could.

Research
One of the gang members from the other block marked on the homesteader’s map the friendly (green) and unfriendly (red) blocks in the Quarantine Zone.

The blacksmith looked through the old books about Malifaux and learned there was an old zoo on the way to Victor’s property and a park north of it, toward the asylum. He learned the asylum had started out as a hospital and was surrounded by a much larger campus that had been a school. On a map he found, the Chiller Building was where the asylum compound was. The main building was where housing and activity rooms had been, and there were other buildings like the Green House, Administration Building, Groundskeeping, and an overflow building for the highly contagious.

I looked through the last issues of the newspaper to see if there were any reports about the asylum. Two months before the newspaper stopped being published, all the articles about the asylum were about inventor Albus Grand being declared insane. They went on for a couple months; it was clearly big news at the time. They said Grand was being housed in the main building (#56).

To the Asylum
Looking at the homesteader’s map, we decided to try negotiating passage through the gang’s territory all the way to the asylum rather than going through the area now marked “undead” and some unknown zones. We reached their zone, and the bounty hunter called out for them. A teenager went to get their leader. The leader asked about our intentions and then approved our travel. He had the teenager, Hans, lead us through their area toward the asylum.

The bounty hunter had noticed a Guild mark on the leader and asked Hans about it. Hans said, “The Guild made a push in through the northwestern gate in an attempt to clear out the asylum because there were things climbin’ out over the walls into the city. Sarge is the only one who made it out.”

The gentleman asked Hans about getting guns. Hans said, “Guns can be got. We don’t have a store. We have the armory. You’d have to ask Sarge about that.” The gentleman called after Sarge to ask about purchasing a gun from their armory. Sarge told Hans to show the gentleman his “standard gun,” and the teen produced a 7-barrel rifle he’d had slung over his back.

Hans took us through their few blocks to the edge of the asylum. We noticed some constructs that seemed to be patrolling. They seemed interested in us until Hans gave a slight signal, and then they continued on their paths.

We reached the now-beaten-down fence around the asylum compound, and Hans turned back. There was a large hole in the fence, so we could easily walk in.

As we made our way into the compound, we were greeted and guided to the Chiller Building, where we met Christof Von Schtook. He urged us to be careful who we trusted deeper in the asylum.

We made our way toward building #56, the main building, where Grand had lived when he first arrived at the asylum. We were approached by guards, and they took the blacksmith into one of the buildings.

[I end with 5 fate coins. Erik gets a plot cheese coin.]

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Jazzmyne Talks About Ms Eloise

Mah daddy would be so proud. We are traveling with a truly refined lady. Ms. Eloise married a real scientist and he was able to keep her alive after she died. Even in Malifaux, that is amazing. Imagine if you could take the person that you love and make them the size of a goddess! We found her with a bunch of gods and goddesses who have lost their power. Some of the men are trying to figure out how to bring them back to life. This man Harold doesn’t say very much, but he figured out how to bring Ms. Eloise with us and thinks he can recharge her. I hope so. She is the kind of woman who provides a wonderful chaperone for me [Daddy probably won’t even have to inspect me when I get home to the swamp when he finds out I was accompanied by a 12-foot tall refined lady.] and I think I can learn so much from her.

Kermit seemed to think we would need to go to a library they found. I didn’t really want to leave Ms. Eloise, but I became excited when I found out the information at the library might extend her power. And everyone was so friendly! When we went through some of the blocks, people came out and watched us as if we were in a parade. I felt so important—so excited. But, something happened to remind me that these were dangerous blocks. One nice man had his personal army bring out their big guns to make sure we were able to get through the block safely. I thought it might be overkill and one of our group thought we might be in danger ourselves. How could we be in danger with all of that cover? You’d think our two military guys, the colonel and that Dan guy would have known better.

What was really interesting was finding the house of Ms. Eloise’s husband, Albus Grand 10 (at least, I figure his real last name must be 10 because Ms. Eloise changed her name from 01 to 10 at some point). It had all these flickering lights like a whole bunch of people trying to signal you at once. Harold said it was a message, but he couldn’t figure out what they were saying. I don’t see why so many of them have to signal all at once. I don’t know which flash to look at. There was a machine just like the one we saw where we found Ms. Eloise, only smaller. I wish we could use it to help Ms. Eloise stay strong, but Harold wanted to wait till we saw the whole message. Well, it’s okay with me. I get to stay with Ms. Eloise.

I wish we would have had those cannon on the next block. A terrible nightmare crashed out of one the buildings like a firework being shot off. But he wasn’t pretty like those fireworks! He was a puss-filled, gooey mess of tentacles (sort of like one of the men trying to inspect me that Daddy had to knock out with an axe because he tried to defile me and I wasn’t about to be deforested by the likes of him—I’m saving myself for someone like Ms. Eloise did).

I was so frightened by this gooey octopus of pus that I ran away. Ms. Eloise didn’t, but she didn’t fight him either. My companions had to blast this monstrosity. Ms. Eloise just stood there like the refined woman she is. Next time, I’m going to stand!

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Kermit's Journal: From the Warehouse to the Library

I shut off the power switch, and we were fixin’ to repair the power cable into the charging station. We decided to come back with some safety plugs instead of twisting the wires together.

We learned a number of things from the feminine automaton, Eloise. She needed to be within range of the blacksmith’s new glove – “the gauntlet.” She had enough power for seven active days or 30 standby days. The charging station’s power cables led to a storage-cell generator, though “Storms have provided power for the last four years. It rains frequently here.” She thought the scarecrow in the barn of doom might be banished by destroying the summoning circle. She went out on jaunts through the neighborhood by means of a backdoor. We asked her to show us this door, and we all left together.

After about a mile, skeletal figures came out of the houses, but they just stared at Eloise and stayed on their porches. A couple more miles north, a man named Kerg came out and followed us, taking notes on Eloise. We found a house with pulsating lights and four copper lightning rods on the roof. Inside, we found a workshop of homemade lightbulbs and hastily assembled steam machinery. We tried removing it but lacked the engineering know-how. East past the barn, some children climbed onto Eloise and rode her to the end of the block.

Eloise stopped suddenly and said, “Death to the east.” Suddenly a shape of tentacles, eyes, and mouths flashed past my eyes and into the midst of our group. I was “freaked out,” as the students at Oxford might say, but I managed to maintain my poise long enough to set it afire. The bounty hunter shot at it a few times, and then the Englishman shot it with an exploding round. We were covered in slime.

The blacksmith entered the house the creature had shot out of. We found the remains of a long-dead family. Most of the housewares had been destroyed in their struggle with the creature. Jasmine gathered up all the knives in the kitchen, and the bounty hunter took all the food and drink that was still consumable.

We went on Jesse’s block. He wasn’t in his building. Another kid hit the bounty hunter with a beanbag from his slingshot and shouted, “This is Jesse’s place. Ya’ll get out!”

We returned to the library so I could research the scarecrow circle. Cross-referencing some fairy tales, I ascertained this was either The Scarecrow from the tales or a creature that had taken its shape. I learned it was hard to tell if a circle was a portal or a binding circle. It depended on the person who made the circle, and even then it was hard to be 100% certain. From the records, we knew the owner of the barn was Carol and she had been researching some dark magic.

Eloise fit inside the library, and we learned she could read. Jasmine asked Eloise to teach her some of her classical education. Eloise explained that she didn’t have classical education. Grand had mostly told her stories. She said she had been crafted by Grand to hold the soul of his wife, but she had been left empty when Grand was dragged to the asylum.

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Kermit's Journal: The Automaton in the Warehouse

I needed to check in, so we all went to the gate. The guards directed me to talk to Joe Smith in the bar. There were three people in the bar. One seemed to be working on Guild paperwork, so I asked if he was Joe Smith. He said no and told me his name, something long and fancy – even fancier than the names in Oxford.

Another man overheard and said he was Joe Smith. He said the man I met at the Guild, Garth James, had him stationed at the bar and “numerous people checking in” with him. He said I could keep the “Thalarian Doctrine” as my personal copy and gave me my next textbook – “How to Spot an Arcanist.” He said a note is fine as long as I check in “every once in a while in person to make sure your eyes aren’t glowing and you’re not trying to destroy the world.”

We decided to investigate the warehouse by the dock, where the societies of Malifaux’s elite may have kept things. Jasmine knew someone on this side of the docks and borrowed a skiff for us. She seemed to want to pilot it, so I showed her how it’s done. She did excellently with my instruction and got us to the warehouse district. I turned to offer to help her ashore, but she was already atop the land. To my embarrassment, she threw down a rope to me and hoisted me up.

The bounty hunter asked if there could be arcanists in the warehouse. I consulted the opening entries in my new “How to Spot an Arcanist” book and noted the unwholesome black smoke from one warehouse. However, the one we were going to was on another block and without smoke, black or otherwise. Most of the warehouses appeared abandoned.

The warehouse we were looking for took up most of a block. There were faint markings near the doors, which were chained closed. The windows were boarded up, as well. The bounty hunter went down the alley, climbed up to a window, and pried the boards off the outside. Meanwhile, the blacksmith broke the chains on the front door, and we went inside. We reached a door the blacksmith couldn’t open, but the homesteader jiggled the handle and it opened right up.

The bounty hunter caught up with us again and took the lead as we explore the building. With the windows boarded up, it was dark inside. The bounty hunter lit a couple lanterns and handed one to me. We found lanterns on the support columns and lit a few of those.

We saw some large crates, smashed from the outside and now empty. We moved single file along the walls. The blacksmith found a light switch and switched it on. A generator kicked on, and flickering arcs of light flashed on the ceiling.

The lights suddenly went out. The others saw some movement at the other end of the room, and we cautiously approached. I tried to stay near Jasmine to keep her safe, but she was very eager to find out what may have moved. There didn’t seem to be anything.

The blacksmith went into one of the crates looking for soulstone, but he wasn’t sure he’d know it if he saw it. He asked me to look. I didn’t see anything glowing the way a charged soulstone would. I could feel the effects of a soulstone having been in the crate, but couldn’t locate one inside. I saw a number marked inside, along with a faded logo. There were claw marks on the inside of the crate, like a man with large hands had broken out of it. There was also a delivery tag indicating the crate was shipped to Albus Grand.

The others had found some statues or perhaps automata standing along a wall, and I checked them to see if there were soulstones inside. Indeed, they did contain soulstones. One was completely unusable, and three were completely drained of power. Two had a glimmer of power, one seemed like it would work for a while. These seven statues resembled Greek and Roman gods of war. There was an eighth statue of a woman who did not bring to mind any classical goddess, and this figure’s soulstone was completely charged. The statues were very pretty.

Jasmine started talking to the fully charged feminine statue. “Why are you so sad, your highness? You’re supposed to be happy when you get married,” she queried. I asked how she knew the statue was married. “Because her name changed,” Jasmine said, making as little sense as ever, poor swamp bumpkin.

The bounty hunter went outside and the homesteader helped from inside to pull the boards off the windows to let more light into the warehouse.

I asked the blacksmith if he’d like to pull the soulstones out of the feminine statue and the other semi-charged one to try to power his new hand. He said the soulstones needed to be special for the device, not any old soulstone – “unless you want to take it just because.”

I was considering taking the soulstone when Jasmine said, “She’s awake.” She insisted the figure’s eyes had opened, but I assured her the eyes had always been open. I continued looking for a hatch to access the soulstone inside. There were no visible ones on the figure’s front. As I looked over the elbows, I saw specially constructed joints with wires showing in the gaps, confirming this was not a simple statue but an automaton. The blacksmith saw that the pedestal the figure was standing on was a charging station.

I challenged Jasmine to get the automaton to move off the charging station. Jasmine asked twice, and suddenly the figure gingerly stepped down. I was stunned for more than a moment.

The figure emitted a metallic voice, without moving her lips. She said the charging station would not work. We asked what was required, and she said “Death.” She also advised us on assembling the pieces that came with the blacksmith’s new hand: soulstone in globe, globe in holder, holder in box – “Creates power supply for construct 8,742.” Jasmine asked if the death of a raven would power it. The figure replied, “The larger the soul, the more power obtained.”

The bounty hunter came in from pulling the boards off the windows. “So this thing can talk?” he asked.

The automaton said “Yes.” He asked her if she cut the power cables to turn off the lights. “I am afraid so.” She confirmed there were no other creatures in the building and said, “I was concerned for my safety.” He asked if she had broken out of the crate we had looked in, with the marks on the inside. She said she had. He asked about the logo on the crate. She said, “I can guess. I believe it to be the grand family crest.”

The bounty hunter asked where else she had seen Albus. She listed the five society meeting places we knew already and told us, “Albus has not been here in decades. The last contact I had was here.”

The bounty hunter advised her to repair the power cable and return to the charger and assured her we didn’t mean her any harm. She replied, “I know. The master gauntlet lets me know Albus sent you. However, I do not have the dexterity for the repair.” We asked how we could repair the power cables. First, she said, we would need to disconnect the power.

[1 attendance fate + 1 extra for working out the statues = total 2 fate]

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Locking down the block

I awake to find the mercs have moved out. The block looks to be under control. So we start looking around. First we find a bullshitters office, other wise know as a Lawyer. Had some sort of fancy safe which I tried to shoot open. But after that the Booklearner says to shit to it and it opened up. Also we find a box of a mad mans rambling and a metal hand. After rummaging threw the rest of the buildings. We find he was a head dude for a anti-guild group. It looks like they used the library as a meeting place. After some dicking around we decipher there code. We start heading words the wall to get some metal to lock down the block. On the way there we hit up the bank to open that one lock box and the shifty blacksmith. Ends up having his hand replaced with the metal one.

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Kermit's Journal: Albus Grand & the Society of Malifaux's Elite

We explored the buildings on the homesteader’s block.

We entered what was once a lawyer’s office. I found some quills and a new-fangled fountain pen that would work with a little polishing and some fresh ink. I put these in my pouch. I also took out my journal and made notes of the hieroglyphics the creatures had scrawled on the walls. The blacksmith found a journal documenting incredibly, painfully complex magical constructs. The front half of the journal was carefully written, with neat sketches that were later inked. The third quarter held similar content, but with increasing hurried messiness. The final quarter of the book was filled with the word “why” finger-painted in blood, over and over. We found a safe and managed to get it open. Inside were the lawyer’s files. We decided to close the safe and come back later to explore the files.

We went next door and found what had been somebody’s house. I found a crystal inkwell, which I stuffed in my pouch. There were also some drafting tools. We went to the back room, but it was locked. The key from the lawyer’s office worked, and we realized this was the lawyer’s house. Inside was a very nice bedroom set and some clothes. The bounty hunter pulled down a metal clothes rod and shook it. A key popped out.

We went into a shop opposite the lawyer’s. It looked like it had been a printing shop, but the press had been dismantled – probably for the metal. There were some 1-page newspapers on the floor. I glanced at the headlines and gathered papers to read later. They were all from 80 years ago. The headlines said, "Number of Neverborn and Undead Attacks on the Rise, "Downtown Malifaux Overrun, “Curfew Instigated,” and “Mysterious Steam Whistles in the Night.” Guild representatives were quotes in the articles, saying, “The Guild can only protect you if you protect yourself. Don’t leave your house after dark,” and “We don’t know where these steam whistle noises are coming from, but if you hear them outside your house, do not engage them.” I found a newspaper from three years before the others. The headline read “Albus Grand’s Wonderful Devices.” It said Albus Grand had developed a new source of power. He told the paper it was a very large device but he hoped to get the size down. He said it generated enough power for a lifetime of use by an average manufacturing company. From the sketches in the paper, I recognized parts of the devices from the journal we’d found.

The next building was a stone structure. It said “Library” above the door, and it was covered in runes – counter-spelling runes, warding runes – intricately worked into the filigree and stones in such a way to hide them from the general public. For the most part, the building and its contents were untouched, unlike the other buildings we’d been in. The homesteader and I looked at the books. The contents seemed pretty standard for a library. The bounty hunter looked for hidden doorways but found nothing. The rest of us looked around. I noticed there were runes carved on the stone on the inside of the library, spelling out map coordinates. On closer inspection, someone had used the Dewey decimal system to create a map of the library. I found the books with the corresponding Dewey decimal numbers, but I didn’t see anything special about “Animals of the African Savannah” and the like. I called over the blacksmith, since he seemed to have a knack for opening locked places. He opened the “Animals” book, and it was actually about magic.

[12 books with false titles and covers:

  • soulstones
  • Society of Magical Exploration – charter, refuse to accept the Guild’s dogma of what is and is not proper magic – magical theory for practicing magic within Malifaux only – some pure belief in Malifaux as an environment participating in the magic
  • compilation of writings from the members on their various contributions
  • small journal from Albus Grand – during his sliding into insanity phase – little bit of wisdom, lots of rambling about Neverborns and their connections to soulstones
  • effects of soulstones of various creatures in Malifaux – zoological
  • treatise on neverborn environs
  • treatise on gremlins and what they know about soulstones
  • text on necromancy
  • written by an individual caled only Victor, more anti-Guild rhetoric. Dated within last 20 years.
  • locations of power in Malifaux – ley lines, concentrations of soulstones, lot of places that didn’t have anything to do with soulstones but were still focus of power
  • treatise on madness and magic written by then-head of the asylum. certain wards of the asylum would spontaneously develop magic. the more insane a person was, the greater connection to magic they had, according to him.]

At the post office, I grabbed some blank pages to supplement my journal. We also found some letters of interest, regarding the society of Malifaux’s elite prior to the breach closing. In particular, there were notes about an almost mythical woman named Eloise.

In the next house, in the closet, the bounty hunter found a chest under some loose floorboards. Inside, he found a locked journal and a pistol.

Next we went into a city building. It looked like it had been sacked by people, not creatures. We found additional information about Albus Grand and Eloise.

I realized I hadn’t checked in at the gate for three days after being knocked unconscious. I sent the boy Jesse to the gate with a note explaining my injuries and absence.

The bounty hunter wanted to know where Malifaux’s elite held their society events, so we went back to the library for the night and pored over the letters we found at the post office to try to ascertain where the parties were held. We identified five venues.

[library, asylum (closest except barn – 1/2 mile north), barn of doom (closest), warehouse over by the docks (farthest), holdings of member Victor about a mile due east]

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The true horrors of Mailfaux.

After making are exit of the little girls house of doom we stop for a short rest. A few moments later we see are friend the inspection girl bumbling threw that same area. I yell to her to get the sam hell out of there. Unfortunately the girl sees us and she is pissed. I snap in to action trying to take down her ghost friends. After a bit of fighting we brake free of her. Now with the inspection girl in tow we push forward. Until we got to are block. To are dismay we found the block infested with men with guns. They told are block is full of demons. So we sign up to help them clear it out. We start with a bar we have the brit walk up to it try to pray the boards off. He fumbles at it so the shady man goes up to help. When it popped open a wave of small baby like monsters run out and we lay in to them. Apon dieing they turn in to some black sludge which looks to melt away people. After the smaller ones look like the run out. Huge hulking monsters comes bulging out and he falls really quick. After this we take the bar and start fixing it up.

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Kermit's Journal: Further Adventures in the Quarantine Zone

I woke up. [Up to 2 HP] We were still making our way through the Quarantine Zone to the homesteader’s block.

A couple of the group heard a voice call out on a nearby block, and we turned and realized it was the young lady from the swamp. She had been set upon by a little girl with some malevolent magical candy. We went to rescue the young lady. We fought the little girl and her minions. Finally, she disappeared in a cloud of cotton candy.

We reached the homesteader’s block. We noticed the gang who told us to stay off their block had followed us. The homesteader said, “This is our block.” They said they’d had a lot of trouble with this block and offered to help us clear it and hold it.

We opened the doors on the saloon, and supernatural critters tumbled out. We fought some little goblin-type creatures and then some fearsome creatures called Neverborn. I was not terribly helpful, but I was glad when we had cleared the saloon.

Inside the saloon, the gang’s librarian asked me to help her put up magical protections around the building. I said I’d have to be shown what to do, but I was happy to help. She showed me some enchantments that were approved by The Guild. It took about two hours to protect the saloon, with me both helping and hindering.

A few of the combined group went out scavenging for supplies on the block.

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