Ok, Imulse, some questions for you.

1.  How would Castle go about researching the electrical effect thing?  He is wondering if this type of link has been noted before anywhere.  Since he is a college prof I'm thinking research is right up his alley.  i'd assume he has some books at home as well.  He does have academic, computer and investigation skills.  Is there some place that would have research info on the occult.  The city library, his university library and the internet are all starting places.  Is there anywhere else locally he would know about?

2.  Is there a way to get the info from the electric company?  

"Who will work with me?'"

Alex almost laughed at the question.  Hadn't he basically all but said he was in?  But he guessed it did need to be said.  He wasn't quite sure why he felt such a strong connection to this case.  Perhaps it was just because the poltergeists and ghosts he'd dealt with before seemed to pale in comparison.  Maybe it was becaue he felt like he could actually do something worthwhile.  Perhaps it was because of Haze's parents - if that story was real it made him want to fight more than it made him want to run.  Whatever it was, he was in.  

He looked at Haze.  "Haze, your warning matters.  But what happened to your parents.  What has happened to the people identified in this envelope.  It isn't OK.  I don't know if I can do anything, but we seem to be the only ones trying.  That is worth something.  This thing may well be too much for me.  For us.  But what if it isn't?"  He turned towards the biker and the priest.  "To try and stop something from happening to some other kids parents?  Yeah, I'll work with you.  I'm no expert and don't have 'contacts.'  But what I can do, I'll do."

"You're looking into the victims?  I want to look into this electricity thing.  I've got some materials at home I can look into.  Maybe I can find some link between electrical effects and craziness.  If you have suggestions on where else to look, research is one thing I have experience with.  I'd love to get a look at the files of the electric company, but aside from just calling them up and asking, I'm not sure what the best way to get it would be.  Somehow I doubt they'd just hand off files on their work orders to just anyone.  Got any idea about that?  Does utiltiy work have to get logged with the city?"

It is pretty clear how Bory is getting into this mess!  I love the intro!

Nobody seemed to be taking the lead with the prisoner and time was wasting.  Kheric simply said, "Ok I'll try to talk to him a bit and see if anything happens.  If not, we move on."

He leaned into the bars in front of him a bit and squated down so that his imposing height wouldn't be a factor.  If he was playing the good cop he didn't want to intimidate at the moment, but he also was aware that the man in front of him might not be sane.  He stayed balanced and ready to leap away from the bars if needed.  "Ok, Adamo.  Can you hear me?  You don't seem to have moved much at all since you were brought in.  I'm hoping that Candy hasn't turned your brain to mush, becasue any hope you have depends on your abiltiy to talk."  He paused to see if he got a response, not really expecting one.  "My name is Kheric, Adamo.  I'm not with the Guard officially.  Nor are any of the these others here with me.  But we are working with them.  That puts us in a position to be your friend. Between the Flux and injuries, you are facing some ugly stuff.  But I mgiht be able to help there.  You might be able to help yourself.  By helping us.  Sitting here silent is only going to lead to an ugly, silent, end.  Hope.  To have any, you need to talk.  If your worried about who hears things, remember, I'm not with the guard.  But I can help."

"Adamo?"  You there?

(I don't remember how we are dealing with rolls and things in this game.  Kheric is trying to use his diplomacy skills if possible when speaking to a post.)  

Cracker sat at the table and listened to the captain give her little speech.  He didn’t like the talk about losing crew members.  Others might be stupid about Captain Cole, but he knew a good captain when he saw one.  He wasn’t going anywhere and the thought of deserters irritated him a great deal.  Still, her main point was well taken.  A ship sitting in port made no money and could pay no sailors.  They needed to find a target and that meant information. 

“Captain.  I spent my time today posing as a sailor looking for work.  I spied out some of the docks and found out where some of these ships are headed.  Towards the North American coast is a common one.  At least a couple of nice ships are headed that way.  I couldn’t tell you what their cargo was as it was pretty well crated, but they were headed out ‘fore long.  Details available if desired, but this is really just general info on one or two ships.”  He felt a bit uncomfortable adding the last bit, but given the captain’s own comments, it seemed needed.  “And Captain, since you mentioned the risk of losing crew members, I think I could o’ gained a berth on at least a few ships.  Admittedly they thought I was desperate to reach Georgia to see my sick mum, but it doesn’t seem like there is a surplus of sailors here.”

He looked at the first mate as he continued.  “A bit later the First Mate brought Shark Tooth and I ashore to try and gather more information.  I’d already done the dock thing, so I followed some sailors to a bar and drank ‘em up a bit.  They talked about a ‘Gory Tremane’ as a man I needed to talk to if I was lookin’ for a spot on a ship.  It wasn’t quite clear if this guy was just the quartermaster on the Minnow or if he was a bigger name in the port at large.  At first, I got the sense that this Tremane was a big name for anyone looking for work.  That he was a player here.  But they also said he could be found on the Minnow – which lends itself to thinkin’ he might just be the hire for that one.  I’m not sure, but one of ‘em seemed irritated that I’d been given the name, as if it was somehow a secret or something.”  Here he nodded at the Dog’s quartermaster, “I don’t think Crowe here’d be upset about crewmen givin’ out his name to prospective recruits.  That makes me think he might be more.”  He shrugged.  “But honestly, I don’t have much to go on beyond the name of a person and a ship.” 

He leaned back in his chair a bit.  He’d had his say and hoped it helped.  When he’d first heard the name Tremane he’d thought it might be important, but the more he thought about it, the less sure he was.  But the guy had reacted suspiciously.  Why would his identity be a secret?

Fixer was ready to give up on this elad when one last thought struck him.  Maybe the good doctor had given them something after all. 

"Dr. Darey.  We have all been looking for friends and contacts for Jace, but perhaps we are looking in the wrong place.  You said he didn't talk to students, but sought out adults.  And specifically you have said that he would speak with and could be seen smiling with maids and custodians.  Perhaps he wasn't quite as alone as we all have been lead to believe."  he shook his head at the fact that they seemed to be committing the classic mistake - overlooking the servants.  "Those maids and custodians he was talking to.  Do you know their names?  Do you know anything about them?  If nothing else, what do they look like?  Maybe there is a hint here after all."  

“Ya think I’m out here on the streets cuz I like it, dude? Ya think I’m hidin’ in friggin’ dumpsters an’ sleepin’ under bridges cuz I want to? Somethin’… somethin’ unnatural… like not of this world unnatural… Like yer friggin Man in White an’ Mr Red Eyes… ate my mom and dad…”

What the hell!  He heard the biker talk a bit, most of which was explaining how he was hunting.  Good.  Someone should hunt. 

"What's your take on this fellow, Alex? You met him—talked with him, even."

He heard the question but chose to ignore it for the moment. 

“Jesus, Haze.”  Momentarily the thought of the expression in his current company crossed his mind, but it didn’t seem significant.  “I’m sorry to bring that up. I’ve dealt with ghost like crap.  Poltergeists – you know, throwing crap around.  Nothing so blatant as what you are talking about.  I had a girlfriend – she and her mother disappeared.  I suspect, but I can’t say . . . “  He trailed off. 

“Haze, I am scared.  And what you’re saying certainly adds to that.  You’ve seen what I can only guess at.  I don’t want to be in this.  But I’ve seen good people die.  I don’t want to be one of them.  But I don’t want anyone else to be either.  These people haven’t been eaten, but they seem to have been devoured in a different way.  I can’t pretend I haven’t seen something.”  He looked down and spoke quietly.  “And if I end up pissing my pants I just pray I can still run.”  He wanted Haze to at least know he took his warnings seriously.  The kid’s words, and even more his freaked-out demeanor, did scare him.  He didn’t have to act.  What could the poor kid have seen?

At that point it was time to address the biker.  Somewhere between the information about what was in the envelope and just the hint of Haze’s story he had become committed.  He didn’t quite know to what he was committed yet, but if there was a way to stop this thing he would be a part of the battle.  He looked at the biker and nodded towards the envelope in his hand.  “May I look at that?”

(Assuming the envelope is handed to him.)

Castle quickly looked through the information in the envelope.  It was pretty much as it had been explained.  An electric effect first?  Was that weird or normal?  It might be a place to start.  And maybe they could identify potential targets.  It had only been a couple of minutes since he had been asked the question, but it felt like a long time. 

He looked at all three of the people sitting around him.  “My take on the guy who left this envelope?”  He felt he needed to repeat the question so that they knew he was finally getting to it.  “For what it is worth, my gut says to trust him.  Not . . “  he quickly turned to the kid he’d called Fry, “blindly Haze.  I have heard you.  But it is possible that not all juju is the same.  He didn’t seem like the Man in White.  When he was up here, he dropped it off and then left – expecting to be unseen.  When I was able to follow him, he was surprised.  He was also frightened.  Not of me.  I think he was afraid of the Man in White.  “Eyes are always watching” he said.  He was getting information on this thing but seemed almost terrified that his role would be found out.  I’m not sure what he was.  He was badly scarred.  If I were to guess I’d suspect that he was a victim of something like our Man.  His scars.  His fears.  He was afraid, but something was driving him to overcome that fear and act.  I’d have thought him a human victim, but as Haze indicated, his eyes were red and he had an unearthly ability to slip the mind.  I don’t know what he is.”  He thought for a second and looked back at the biker, “Yes, it is possible that what he was afraid of was his boss who had sent him with that envelope and would be angry if he saw him speaking to us.  It is possible.  But that isn’t what it felt like.   His name is Damian.”

As he spoke he’d considered whether he should share with the others the information about the phone, be decided that until he knew more he would hold that to himself.  He wasn’t sure what his motivation was.  To keep a secret?  A sense that Damian had wanted it kept secret?  Uncertainty about what he was getting into?  Whatever it was, for now he kept it to himself.  Although Haze was probably aware of the phone. 

“I’m not sure what hunting this thing actually means.  Something is causing these events.  But while I know I don’t want to end up somethings dinner,” and at this he couldn’t help looking at the kid, “but if someone had been able to do anything to help his parents, what would that have been worth?”

“What do we actually have besides this envelope?  All I knew when I got here and all I’ve been able to learn from those I talked to here can pretty-much be summed up as ‘a man-in-white has been seen around when good people go bad.’  That’s it.  I wouldn’t even know where to go from there.  In fact, this is where I came to try and learn more.  And all I learned was more of the same.”  He looked at the others and held up the envelope he had in his hand.  “Except for this.  Unless you know more than I do, this is the only lead we have.”

He looked around at the others at the table to see if any of them wanted to interrupt his little speech.  “I agree, we need to be cautious about how much we trust it, but it is at least something.  Energy fluctuations and really good people as targets – some of which seem to have achieved a bit of notoriety for their good hearts.  This is something.  Is there any history of paranormal activity associated with electric effects?  Is there a way to track when and where such effects take place?  Going backwards this might allow us to expand on the pattern this envelope identified.  At the very least it might confirm or debunk it.  Going forward it might be predictive.  Likewise, at least a couple of the targets seemed to have had reputations for ‘goodness,’ for lack of a better word.  We could look up the previous victims – were there stories in the paper about them?  Is there one particular media source in which many of them were mentioned?  If so, like the electricity, that could prove to be predictive.” 

He shrugged.  “You asked my opinion.  The envelope provides something.  What else do we have?  What do you know?”

(I just kept writing, but if Haze were to react and have an outburst in the middle of any of this Castle would consider that far more important than anything he is saying.  The kid’s story is freaky and he is both worried by the kid and worried about him.) 

'Castle-Dude'?  Alex smiled a bit, for the comment almost made him laugh out loud.  Kids were so . . . kids.  And this one seemed to be a walking stereo-type.  Exactly the type of thing that made him laugh.  

But 'corpsefield,' while almost equally stereotypical, was no-where near as funny.  Before trying to answer the priest's question since he didn't really have an answer anyway, he gave the kid his attention.  He watched him stuff his face with fries for a moment and spoke, trying to chose his words carefully as the kid gave every indication of being the type that would bolt.  "Ok, Fry.  The man of the cloth here already said that this was beyond anything he's dealt with.  I'd have to say the same.  Running makes some sense to me, but mostly because I don't know much.  But you seem to know something about this . . . juju.  Convince me.  Why do I need to run?"  

“Find her,” Anne growls. “Bring her t’ me.”

Cracker quickly nodded his head and said, "Yes, Captain."  He wasn't sure where to begin, but assumed the other Cole sister was still ashore.  "Uhm, captain, assuming the First Mate is stil ashore, may I comandeer a few men to begin a search of the city?  Shark Tooth and I alone can't cover much ground."  

(Assuming he gets some form of assent.)

Getting permission to take some men ashore, Cracker dipped his head with a quick "sir," and left the captains quarters.  Once outside he turned to the gunner and let out a breath of air in relief.  "You got lucky.   That could have gone much worse.  We now need to find our missing officer.  Go to your chest and grab some clothes - smalled and clean if possible and put 'em in a bag.  Get 'em from someone if you have to.  Don't tell anyone why you need 'em, just get 'em.  Keep your mouth shut.  We'll be  leaving this boat together in only a few minutes.  I'll be on deck gettng a few extra hands.  Hustle."

William Wiley then moved the other direction, back up to the main deck. When he got on deck, he immediately moved to the largest group of sailors.  "Ok, lads, break time is over.  By any chance has the First Mate returned to the ship?"

(The following assumes someone did see her, which seems likely.  Likewise, I am assuming that the quartermaster is not on the deck at the moment, which I believe is true.)

"Wait.  She DID return?  How long ago?  Where did she go?"  Hearing that she had headed below he could only assume that she had gone to her own quarters.   Clearly she had not gone straight to the captain or they would have run into each other.  Ships weren't that big and there were only so many paths that led to that particular door.  His first thought was to go to the captain and tell her, but no, she had clearly said 'bring her to me.'  That meant bring 'her,' not 'news of her.'  Oh this was not going to be fun.  

He looked back at the group of pirates and tried to cover the surprise he fealt at the news.  "Ok, when Shark Tooth gets here tell him 'change of plans.'  Just tell 'em to stay here till I return."  As he started to head back below decks he threw one last question at the waiting group, "Anyone here see the quartermaster?  If you do, tell him I need to speak with him."  And then he spun on his heal and headed back down into the bowels of the ship towards the First Mate's quarters.  Did he want to find her there or was he hoping her chambers would be empty?  He really didn't know . . .

When he got to her chambers he knocked and waited.  

(I'm not sure if they will meet in the ships passages or not.  I'm guessing she will already be gone by the time he gets there and that there will thus be no response.  Assuming no response leads to the following...)

He knocked and got no reply.  This, he immediateluy realized, was actually the worst possible response.  None.  She was aboard.  But not here?  Or here and not answering?  He knocked again, louder.  And then again, louder still.  "Sir.!  This is Bosun Wiley, Sir!  The Captain needs to speak with you right away."  He looked around the passage, hating the thought of eavesdroppers.  Sometimes the less the crew knew the better.   But he had no choice but to make noise.  Crap!  No response.  Did he dare open the door?  Open the door to an officer's chambers without permission?  But did he dare NOT do it?  He tried one last time, knocking loudly.  "Sir!  The captain calls for you!"  

He groaned inwardly.  But he dared not open that door without permission until he was sure.  He spun and sprinted back towards the captain's chambers. If she wasn't here, he was sure she would head to the Captain.  If Wiley knew that the Captain needed to know about what happened, certainly the younger Cole could figure that out as well.  She might be hot tempered, but she wasn't dumb.   Any person he passed he asked, "Have you seen the first mate?"  A positive response would be quickly follwoed by, "When?  Where was she headed?"  And negative by a quick resuming of his run.  If he got all the way back to the captain's he could only hope that he would be able to tell if both sisters were there.  

Please let this fishing expedition be over . . . 

Castle watched the kid go get some food.  He wondered where he was from.  

Then he turned back to the table and the two men sitting there.  A biker priest?  Interesting.  A bit out of his normal area of interest, but interesting.  And the question about the envelope . . . 

Catle looked at the two men and decided he might as well answer.  That was sort of the point of telling them that he saw it delivered.  "Honestly, I don't know exactly who or what he was."  He looked at the others gauging their reaction.  "Yeah, what.  I don't know.  I was looking around the place - trying to talk to people about this man in white - yes, I've seen him as well.  Then I saw this person, but I really couldn't see him.  If you didn't focus on him and really stay focused, you missed him.  You forgot him.  He was gone.  But I stayed foused.  I kept him in sight, but barely.  He dropped the envelope on the table and left.  It was hard, but I managed to follow him."

Again, he looked at the others for some look of surprise or recognition.  "I followed him.  He seemed shocked that I could see him.  He didn't say much beyond warning me that things were always watching.  He looked . . . human, I think.  Human, but badly scarred.  And a bit afraid, I think.  But I can't say more."

"I don't know what he knows, but I do know something weird is going on around Toronto right now.  And it involves that man in white somehow.  And I think there is some information in that envelope."  He looked again at the biker priest who was persuing the envelopes contents.  "Anything interesting?"  

I assume we are all in the same room.  

I'd guess we would all try to talk to him.  I can post that for Kheric.  And whoever has a bit of the candy might see if he reacts to its presence.  But be careful.  

Nicely done!  

And thankfully we got our Tann back.

Are you saying that there is something wrong with the glee club?  I can't sing a lick, so I wasn't in it, but it kinda feels like you and the gamers were sorta being bullies to those glee kids.  And have gamers had a hit show?  The abused become the abusers . . . it is a sad, sad cycle.  

But seriously, it is awesome to see these active again!  And this is pretty cool.

Having started with the kindness act, Fixer decided he might as well continue with the good cop routine.  He went over and leaned on a chair near their host.  "Everything we've heard about the kid seems positive.  He seems like a nice kid, although, at the moment, you seem to have the most personal comment about him we've heard.  It doesn't seem like he had many people to talk to.  Except you a bit, perhaps."  He paused to think a bit.  "Parental rights?  You mean like he was asking about getting free from their control?   One of those 'divorce your parents' sort of things?  Have I got the right idea?"  He shook his head.  "Ouch.  If you thought he didn't have a lot of friends at school, it kinda sound like he didn't have 'em at home either.  Any idea why?  Or do you know anything about his parents?"

(Assuming a response)

Hearing the teachers response, he had a couple of followup questions.  "Since you teach law, even if corporate and family law aren't the same thing, I suppose you were a logical person to ask.  And a friend to him, which probably helped as well.  What did you tell him about it?  What are his options?"

(Assuming some response.)

"Is there anyone else he might have asked about this?  Either someone you told him to talk to or maybe a logical other person on staff to ask?  Or someone in the neighborhood?  Honestly, we don't have much to go on and right now this might be Jace's best shot."  

(Once he gets whatever he can out of the teacher, if nothing else has happened to upset him and nobody has gone into the back room he would follow up with the following . . )

"We don't want to upset your wife any.  It looks like things are tough enough there already.  But, if your going to let us look around, we really need to get a look in the back room.  Is there a way to do that without upsetting her?  I don't know if it helps or hurts to play to her fantasy.  Be part of the game world, you know?  But, for Jace's sake, a quick look would be great."  He pasued, "I guess there is no chance that Jace knew her?  No, just grasping at straws.  The clock is ticking on this one."

Borborybodboddynock

“Bory”

Full name:  Borborybodboddynock Eric Heatherplanter Ezuri Badger Packmaster Rootwalla meadknocker Waterknott Daergel

1^st level Druid

Forest Gnome

Chaotic Good

Male

Hit Points:   9   (d

Proficiency Bonus:  +2

Armor Class:   16

Strength  10 (+0 Modifier)

Dexterity   16  (+3 modifier)

Constitution  15  (+2 modifier)

Intelligence  15  (+2 modifier)

Wisdom  18  (+4 Modifier)

Charisma   10 (+0 Modifier)

Speed:  25’

Appearance:   3’  (short even for a gnome.  About 36 pounds.)

               Borborybodboddynock is small even for a gnome and still fairly young at only 39 years old.  People who meet him would not be shocked to learn that he is a druid, but neither is it obvious as he does not walk around with sprigs of mistletoe in his hair.  His hair is bright orange and flies out in all directions, not because it is unkempt but because that is just what it does.  He does comb it and it is not a mass of snarls or tangles, it just isn’t very controllable.  When outside it is usually under a wide brimmed hat.  His skin is a fairly light brown – he is not naturally overly dark, but has spent a great deal of time outside.  He wears leather armor and typically has a shield slung across his back and a scimitar at his waist.  His clothing and armor are always of a blend of browns and greens, although he is more than willing to put on a bold splash of color when in town and celebrating.  He has a waterdrop shaped amulet around his neck made of oak.  Sometimes it is outside his tunic and sometimes inside.  In general, he gives off the impression of a common traveler with a big smile and a glint in his eye.   He doesn’t try to attract attention, but frequently does anyway. 

Age:  39

Languages:  Common, Druidic, Elvish and Gnome (uses Dwarvish script)

Racial Abilities:

               Darkvision to 60’

               Gnome cunning – advantage on all Intelligence, wisdom and charisma saving throws vs. magic.

               Minor Illusion cantrip- Intelligence ability

               Speak with small beasts – sounds and gestures to communicate simple ideas to small and

 smaller beasts.

Background:  Hermit

               *Bory is really not a hermit in the traditional sense and never has been one.  He was raised near the village of Harper’s Crossing and even his druidic training was usually in the vicinity of that community.  When it wasn’t, he was typically in the company of the druid Haradaya.  Unlike most hermits he maintains strong connections to his home community of gnomes.  (See Bond below.)  However, the hermit background was the closest to his history that was available.  While still quite socially precocious, he has spent a lot of time in the wilds alone contemplating the universe.  Essentially, sure he’s a bit of a hermit and enjoys being alone, but he is still a gnome and funny is really only funny when there is someone else there with whom to share the laugh.

Bonus hermit skill Proficiencies: medicine and religion

Tool Proficiency:  Herbalism kit

Bonus Languages:  One – Elvish (Haradaya was ½ elvish)

Character Traits:

               Ideals:  Bory is amazed by the world and nature in particular.  The same way a more typical gnome loves tinkering and seeing how the bits and pieces of something fit together, Bory is constantly in awe of how the universe fits all the pieces together.  And he thinks it is wonderful and dynamic and an amazing thing to be a part of.  He is filled with a sense of wonder and a desire to preserve that which he finds wonderful.

               Bonds:  Near the village of Harper’s Crossing there is a small community of wood gnomes.  This is the home town of Borborybodboddynock.  Although he has left it to see the wonders of the world, it will never leave him.  The village will always be special to him and he will work very hard to defend it.  As wood gnomes many of them share his passion for the wilds even if they aren’t druids, so a druid’s loyalty to a village is not as surprising as it might seem.  His mentor in the world of druidism is also a very special individual for Bory.  The ½ elf Haradaya took his burgeoning love of nature and gave it direction and focus.  Haradaya is quite old by now, although still strong.

               Flaws:  Bory is a gnome and he comes fully armed with the usual gnome sense of humor.  He never wants to hurt other people, but sometimes when his humor is combined with his natural sense of self-confidence (some might say a bit of arrogance) he simply can’t help poking fun at other people.  Humans are a natural target because they are so big and so slow and so . . . human.  They do the darndest things and sometimes it is Bory’s duty to point it out to the world.  Especially over a pint of mead.  Mead could also be considered a flaw.  He isn’t a drunk by any means, but he does like his mead. 

Skill Proficiencies:  (2 from hermit backgroung, 2 generally)

               Medicine

               Religion

               Survival

               Perception

Tool proficiencies:  Herbalism Kit

Spells:

Spells Available: wisdom + druid level – can memorize that many spells per day. 

Spell modifiers = proficiency bonus + wisdom modifier

Spell slots per spell level

               Cantrips:  2+

                              Minor Illusion (Wood Gnome ability)

                              Produce Flame

                              Poison Spray

               1^st Level:  2

                              Goodberry

                              Entangle

Weapons and Armor

Proficient with:  clubs, daggers, darts, javelins, maces, quarterstaffs, scimitars, sickles, slings, spears

Armor Proficiency:  light or medium armor and shields – no metal

Scimitar  1d6 slashing.  Finesse, light.  (use dex for attack and damage rolls)

Sling:  1d4 bludgeoning.  Range 30/120

               Bullets (20)

Darts (6)  1d4 Piercing.  Range  20/60

Dagger  1d4 piercing.  Finesse, light, thrown, range 20/60  (use dex for attack and damage)

Leather armor:  Ac 11, + Dex.

Shield:  +2 AC

Other Equipment

A scroll case stuffed with maps, sketches and notes from his travels

A winter blanket

Bedroll

Traveler’s Clothes

Pouches (2)

Herbalism kit

Backpack

Candle (3)

Chalk (2)

Signal Whistle

Fishing Tackle

Ink Pen

Ink – 1 oz. bottle, ½ full

Soap

Tinderbox

Waterskin

Rations – 4 days

*Druidic Focus – This is a knot of oak shaped like a waterdrop that came from a huge old oak near Harper’s Crossing next to the pond where he first met Haradaya.  It is worn on a chain around his neck. 

Money:

12 gp

The Name Game Explained:

Full name:  Borborybodboddynock Eric Heatherplanter Ezuri Badger Packmaster Rootwalla meadknocker Waterknott Daergel

Borborybodboddynock – It is a family name, ok?!  My great grandfather had that name when he single-handedly beat the ogre of the High Moors in one-on-one combat!  Not bad for a 38 pounder, is it?  It is a proud name, so take that, “Bob.”   (But you can call me Bory, most of the time.)

Heatherplanter – What sort of name was that?  There were stories about his other great grandfather and a young gnome lass named Heather that everybody wanted to get to know and great gramps won her hand.  And greatgrandma was named Heather.  At least one of her names was Heather.  But Bory wasn’t so sure.  There were always stories. 

Eric – What??!!  What sort of a name was Eric?  It wasn’t ‘Bob,’ but what else did it have going for it?  “Hi!  I’m Eric.”  How exciting was that?  Why’d they give him the name Eric?  But at least it was better than that boy down the road named Sue.  His father had really done him wrong.  Poor kid kept getting in fights.  But then, how can you not laugh when someone says, “Hi!  My name is Sue.”?  You respond with “Hi.  My name is Eric,” to let him know he isn’t the only one with a dumb name. 

Meadknocker – So he’d earned this one early on when only a young lad and he had raided his father store of mead.  Honey and booze.  What was there not to love???!!   Yeah, he’d earned this one and had a few friends back home that still just called him “Mead.”  The thought made him smile.  And thirsty.

Ezuri – the legendary elf warrior.  Supposedly his great grandfather had fought with the great elf once upon a time.  He was beginning to wonder how many great grandfathers he had.

Waterknott – He’d been known to sit and stare at the swirls in the water for hours.  It fascinated him.  Nature.  It was almost like the other gnomes and their tinkering and chemicals.  He could stare at nature for hours and try to find the mystery in it.  It worked for a glass of mead as well.

Badger – kinda boring, but he liked this one.  He wasn’t sure if it was about when he raised those young badgers he’d found or about a personality trait, but either way it was kinda flattering in a stubborn sort of way.  Not all names can be as good as BorBoryBodboddynock. 

Packmaster – It was wolves that time.  Who didn’t think running a pack of wolves through the center of the village was funny?  I mean, come on!  You should have seen . . . ok, so a few things got broken, but they could be fixed!  Now those faces – they might be forever frozen that way!

Rootwalla – This was a personal favorite.  He’d earned this one.  He’d managed to make a wall of thorns and roots that saved several gnomes from some attacking goblins.  He’d had a scroll.  But ‘wall of roots’ really doesn’t sound great, so over a few mugs of mead the name had morphed.  He liked this one. 

Daergel – A clan name.  A good name.  Nothing interesting though.  Except the family history.  All those great grandfathers.  That was interesting and something to be proud of.  So, a good name. 

A Brief History of Borborybodboddynock. 

Boborybodboddynock was the beloved child of Bodborydigdunglethorn and Sue Daergel in the wood gnome community near Harper’s Crossing.  Wood gnomes as a whole tend to be a bit isolated and prefer to stay out of the way of the larger world.  This allowed them all to fit in quite well with the larger community.  Everyone in the Deeper Wilds tended towards a strong strain of individualism and didn’t like the Arcaren or other authorities sticking their collective noses in people’s business.  This attitude suited the Daergel clan and their neighbors perfectly. 

               Bory was a precocious young gnome and lived up to their reputation for curiosity and humor.  (See his name for a brief hint of his history of jokes.)  Like all young wood gnomes, he loved the woods and hills and spent a great deal of time wandering the wilds.  Frequently this was with a troupe of other young gnomes who followed his lead, but more and more as he grew older he would wander deeper and deeper than the others were willing to go. The young gnome found almost everything about the world fascinating, but while many gnomes found fascination in alchemical and tinkering (less predominant among wood gnomes, but still common) Bory was drawn to the wonders of the wild.  The world fascinated him.  The woods, the sky, the rivers, the hills, the ponds, the life under rocks and up in trees and in the water and in caves.  It all amazed him.  And it all seemed to work together in an amazing mixture.  The young gnome spent days at a time wandering the deeper wilds investigating the secrets of the world around him.  His parents worried about him when he was gone for a long time but got used to it since there wasn’t much they could do to stop him. 

               One day the young gnome found a beautiful meadow in the woods while on one of his travels.  Unknown to the gnome, he was no alone.  The druid Haradaya was watching him from the woods nearby.  The druid had taken the form of a giant wolf and had been following the gnome for a couple of days.  He sat and watched as the young gnome ran around investigating everything while gasping in shock and wonder.  When Bory sat down and stared into the pond at the center of the meadow the wolf slowly approached. 

               Bory spotted the wolf the moment it left the shelter of the surrounding woods.  He froze.  His instincts were screaming that he should run, but something about this wolf was different.  It clearly saw the gnome and yet was neither running nor attacking.  Instead it approached slowly.  That wasn’t how wolves normally behaved.  He slowly got to his feet not wanting to spook the creature – whether to keep it from running or to avoid startling it and spurring an attack, he wasn’t sure. Slowly the wolf approached and Bory reached up and scratched its ears.  Bory wasn’t surprised when it didn’t run.  It stayed for a few minutes to be scratched.  After getting a brief drink from the pond the wolf turned to the gnome and winked.  Bory was sure it had winked.  Then it took off at a trot while looking back over it’s shoulder at the young gnome.  He paused for less than a moment and then took off after the wolf.

               The two spent the next two days running through the woods of the Deeper Wild.  The wolf led the gnome to a variety of spots with amazing views, amazing plants, amazing beasts or just wonderful calming spots.  Eventually the gnome was stumbling with exhaustion and the wolf led him to a cave in some hills nearby.  The young gnome had not even had time to investigate the cave’s interior when he collapsed in exhaustion and fell asleep. 

               When he awoke many hours later it was dark except for a fire which only barely illuminated the inside of the cave.  Still, darkness was a no enemy of a gnome.  He easily made out the shape of an older half-elf sitting on the opposite side of the fire.  When he stirred the elf looked up and smiled.  “Come, you must be starving young one.  You have run many miles.”

               Somehow Bory was neither surprised nor afraid, but happily joined the other at the fire and received a bowl of vegetable stew.  It was wonderful.  He ate happily, not wishing to break the silence, but after the meal was done he felt something needed to be said.  Silence had never been something Bory was good at.  Even on his solitary wanderings he tended to keep up a running dialogue or a good song.  So, eventually, he spoke.  “I’m Bory.  Borborybodboddynock.” 

               The other simply said, “I know.”  And waited for him to say more.

               Eventually the conversation became less one-sided and he discovered that this other was indeed the same as the wolf he had been following.  He was a druid named Haradaya.  He had seen Bory multiple times on his various journeys through the wild and believed the young gnome might have what it took to be a druid himself.  Bory had suspected as much but had not dared to hope.  He had heard of druids, there were a couple associated with the wood gnomes of Harper’s Crossing, but had never spoken to one.  When the druid offered to teach him the ways of the Moon he nearly jumped in excitement.  He didn’t, of course, for it seemed a more solemn moment, but it took all of his strength to avoid doing so. 

               Over the next few years Bory spent most of his time in the company of the druid Haradaya and learned much about the ways of the wild.  He went home periodically for he was unwilling to completely sever his ties with his family and his community.  The gnomes of Harper’s Crossing were a part of the wild and a part of its wonder.  And they were his family.  As time went on he progressed in his studies with Haradaya.  His mentor was a part of a larger circle of druids operating in the area, although Bory did not meet the others very frequently.  Most of his studies were spent with Haradaya alone.  The two crisscrossed the region and studied every cave, tree, river and pond they could find.  The elder druid seemed to share the young ones wonder and amazement about the world. 

               Eventually it was time for Bory to be initiated as a full druid.  The ceremony was attended by a dozen other druids, by far the most Bory had ever seen in one spot.  They were a diverse group of many races and they gathered on the summer solstice for the initiation.  The great oak at the heart of the ceremony yielded a beautiful teardrop shaped piece of seemingly polished wood that would be the young druids spell focus.  He was a druid. 

               But what did that mean?  For many druids it meant protecting and preserving the wilds of the world from those who would endanger it.  But it also meant studying the wonders of the world and trying to understand and revere the great mysteries that tied the world together.  Bory wasn’t ready to settle down in one place and call it “his grove” or whatever.  He still had all of the energy of a young gnome flowing through him and greatly desired to see all the groves of the world.  And all of its rivers, oceans, forests, meadows, mountains and such.  He felt that the great mysteries of the world were to be found everywhere and in how nature somehow touched all of these like small tributaries in the great river of the world.  And to catch of view of that greater river he must go out and see as many of its tributaries as he could.  Only then might he be able to piece together the greater pattern. 

               Haradaya did not try to stop him.  He understood the curiosity and need that drove the young gnome as well as the need to feel the pattern.  It was not something that could be taught but must be discovered for oneself.  He encouraged the young gnome to search the world while encouraging him to return when in need of finding his center again.  For that, nothing would ever match the original meadow and cave for the young gnome druid. 

               And thus the young gnome druid Borborybodboddynock, provided with equipment by his mentor and the other druids, set out to see the world.  He wanted to see the world and make a difference in the world.  And he intended to have fun while doing it.  He headed off down the world’s road whistling and smiling.

I think we need everyone to at least talk to the guy.  He seems unresponsive, but it is probably at worth it to have each of us try.  

As for the next step, I guess I would start with two things:

1.  Go to the tavern and get rooms.   

2.  Start checking out some of the seedier taverns in town.  For example, the one this guy got his candy at.  

Kheric watched as the prisoner failed to react to the loud noise.  There wasn't much for him to do at the moment.  He had asked his questions and received his partial answers.  Partial, but that was expected.  If they had all of the answers, why would they be hiring him?  Still, it did seem that they knew surprisingly little.  How had one of this group already told them more about the drug then the watch captain had been able to?

And as for information . . . the flying squirrel was an interesting touch.  He didn't react much when it entered the room, but he did raise an eyebrow.  He had nothing against the critters.  Squirrels were cute and amusing as long as they weren't gnawing holes in something you needed.  But this mentor thing, that was a bit odd.  Not just a bit odd either.  Very odd.  Al j'Kheric was very well aware that there were things out there that went bump in the night and powerful creatures that were not benevolent.  To give yourself over to one without knowing who and what it was . . . well, it seemed unwise. Even if this 'mentor' did seem to care about healing and gave out flying squirrels.  He would have to keep this unknown mentor in mind when dealing with this individual.  Still, it might not matter much in the case at hand.  

The case at hand . . . since they had decided to let the others take the lead in good cop/bad cop, he simply stood back and watched.  If nothing happened, he'd try speaking to what was left of the man as well.  But it didn't look promising.  

By the way - I made an error in my post by typing to fast.  Wylie refers to my character, Cracker.  I accidently referenced Shark tooth that way once because I changed around in mid post how I was handling the situation.  Anyway, you copied me and kept calling him Wylie.  

My question - If not directly to the captain, who is the proper person for William "Cracker" Wylie to give his information about the town and ships to?  Now does not seem to be the right time, so he might seek out whoever would  be the next bet.  And not the other Ms. Cole, either, obviously.  Is there someone else?  

FYI - My post will be to accept the assignment ot find Cole - but ask if he can commandeer some men to take into town to look.  Assuming she says yes, he will go on deck to do so.  At that point I'm assuming he will learn of her return from those who saw her come back.  

Nice!  I suspect we will be needing a Doc soon.  

Borborybodboddynock is pretty much finished.  If we are posting characters here I will do so once I get a final ok from the Dark Lady.  I do have some writing to do still on the backstory, I guess, but everything else is ready to go.

Should anyone wish to create an image of the little rascal, his description is below.  

Appearance:   3’  (short even for a gnome.  About 36 pounds.)

               Borborybodboddynock is small even for a gnome and still fairly young at only 39 years old.  People who meet him would not be shocked to learn that he is a druid, but neither is it obvious as he does not walk around with sprigs of mistletoe in his hair.  His hair is bright orange and flies out in all directions, not because it is unkempt but because that is just what it does.  He does comb it and it is not a mass of snarls or tangles, it just isn’t very controllable.  When outside it is usually under a wide brimmed hat.  His skin is a fairly light brown – he is not naturally overly dark, but has spent a great deal of time outside.  He wears leather armor and typically has a shield slung across his back and a scimitar at his waist.  His clothing and armor are always of a blend of browns and greens, although he is more than willing to put on a bold splash of color when in town and celebrating.  He has a waterdrop shaped amulet around his neck made of oak.  Sometimes it is outside his tunic and sometimes inside.  In general, he gives off the impression of a common traveler with a big smile and a glint in his eye.   He doesn’t try to attract attention, but frequently does anyway. 

Kheric has no problem with others taking the lead - just as a note - he has an 18 charisma and 8 skills in diplomacy.  Of course, he is also rather arrogant and has pale skin and fangs.  Just to let you know for future negotiations as I suspect this will not be our last interogation.  

Adolfo looks rather forlorn in his cell and may respond better to kindness then anything else.  However, despite the fact that Kheric has taken a lead so far in asking questions, I think someone else should play the initial role of good cop.  Kheric has a very high charisma and a lot of skill in diplomacy, so maybe he should be the good cop.  But he is also a dhampir with notable fangs and a healthy does of arrogance.  While his skill is not intimidate, I think intimidate and diplomacy compliment each other pretty well.  (Only the DM can tell) He isn't naturally a 'bad cop,' but diplomacy is not always a soft sport.  (As our elf will apparently soon find out.)  He might be the best bad cop in the group.  Then again we have something called a 'ratman' in the group, so I may be wrong.  thoughts?  

As they moved to the cell Kheric asked the captain one last question.  "I get the feeling there is no 'usually' with this drug, but how long does it usually take for someone to come out of its embrace?"  Upon hearing the answer, he realized he had yet one more.  "Has Adolfo been told about the injuries he caused the other man?"

Wiley listened to the other sailor explain how he had been to afraid to speak to the captain about what he had seen and shook his head.  He looked Sharktooth in the one-swollen eye and cussed.  "Not your place?!  You fool!  You are a part of this crew."  He kept his voice low so nobody else would hear, but Shark Tooth could have no doubt that the Boatswain was angry.  "Your PLACE and your DUTY and your REASON FOR BEING ON THIS SIDE OF THE WAVES is to help make sure that this ship and the rest of its crew stays secure.  That does not just mean running a gun crew and getting in brawls, it also means making sure that the captain has the information she needs to make the decisions that will keep you, me and the whole ship safe!  You don't think knowing the First Mate is running is vital?"  

He started to turn away, saying, "You had better hope your name does not come up . . . " when he stopped.  He turned back to Shark Tooth and smiled.  "No.  I didn't actually see anything besides the First Mate and your sorry arse running through the streets.  But you know more.  And the captain needs to know EVERYTHING.  You will come with me.  Now.  We are not waiting for Ms. Cole to return."  

(Assuming Sharky does go with him since, I believe, Wiley outranks him.)

He pushed Wiley ahead of them and they headed towards the Captain's quarters.  When they got there he knocked on the door and waited for a response.  

(Assuming this is the correct protocol and assuming an answer along the lines of 'enter.')

"Enter!"  

William Wiley removed his hat and held it in his hands as he entered the captain's chambers.  He was followed closely by a very nervous Shark Tooth who seemed to want to stay behind the boatswain as much as possible - and even in a captain's chambers there wasn't much room on a ship to move around.  "Captain," he said with a dip of his head.  "I'm thinkin' you probably already know, but it seems information you would want . . ."  He hesitated for just a moment to make sure he got the words right before plunging ahead.  "It seems our First Mate might be in some trouble with the local authorities."  

He paused a moment to see what reaction his words received from the tempramental captain.  

(Assuming that she doesn't stop him and/or gives some indication to continue . . . otherwise he would stop.)

"Just a bit ago I saw The First Mate and SharkTooth here running through the streets. They  ran like someone was after them.  I don't know what happened, Captain, but they ran.  After just a bit, Sharky and I were ordered back to the ship and she ran on.  SharkTooth here might know more since he was already with her when I caught up.  I came straight here."  With that he turned to the very nervous Sharktooth.

**(All of the above assumes the captain is alone in her chambers.  If she is not he would begin with "Captain, I might have some information on the First Mate that you should hear."  If she seems to indicate that he should go on despite the presence of someone else he will follow the tact above.  If it is someone not from the ship, he will say, "Now might not be the best time," with an indication of his head to say why.) 

Kheric listened to the captain answer his questions.  The guy made a positive impression.  His answers were straightforward and to the point.  He didn't object to questions.  Good.

"This Adomo Ulfa . . . is there anything else you could tell us about him?  If we are going to interview him, it would seemhelpful to know as much as we can.  Has he been interviewd yet?  How did he ingest the drug?  What did he actually do while on his 'violent high?'  He worked at the mill - any previous problems with the law?  Any family?"  

He also took the time to examine the drug.  Colorful crystals.  'Magic candy' seemed a good name, but a curious one given that magic really did exist.  "Magic candy, captain?  Am I correct in assuming that Flux is not, in fact, magical, but rather alchemical?"