SESSION 2
All that was lost, is revealed.
Move: Begin a Session
86: Peril lies ahead or lurks just out of view
A lone alligator lays mostly submerged in the algae-covered and pollen-laden swamp, its eyes barely grazing the surface of the water. Ahead on the shore, a man wearing armor that shone by the moonlight idly tossed a rock into the water as he paced along the shore. Silently, the alligator slinks below the water and turns around, his appendages and tail driving his movement forward and back to his master.
+1 momentum for everyone
Havoc’s night watch shift was passing by without anything of note happening. He thought about Mouse and her music and wondered if he would ever sing.
“And what would I sing about? ‘Oh, once had a crossbow to my head, they said I wasn’t worth the bolt? Now my finger’s on the trigger and I’m gonna pull it.’
He smiled at himself, “Hey, that’s actually not half bad…”
To pass the time, he went down the hill, towards the swamp. The full moon hung high in the sky reflected on the water, and Havoc realized that he couldn’t remember if the moon had been out on the night before.
“The full moon…werewolves, is that what the old man isn’t telling us? Werewolves aren’t too tough. The Implacable, we killed plenty of werewolves. No, there’s definitely something else he’s keeping secret.”
Havoc tossed a small tree branch into the water to try and gauge its depth a few meters past the shoreline and found that it was only ankle-high. Looking out at the roots of the waterborne trees, the whole swamp seemed to maintain that same shallow depth.
Havoc had begun to turn and walk up the hill when he heard the sound of Mouse screaming, prompting him to sprint towards their shelter.
By the time he arrived, Gaz had already awoken and raised a torch to illuminate the ruined cabin. Mouse had bolted upright in her bedroll and was clutching her own arms. Gaz asked, “What is it, Mink?”
Path: Seer
When you envision experiencing a prophetic dream, you may Ask the Oracle for details using an interpretive oracle such as Action/Theme or Descriptor/Focus. If you record the answer, and later face a situation which gives truth to the vision, take an automatic strong hit (one time only) when making a move to act on your foresight. Then, clear the prophecy. Only one prophecy can be active at a time.
Action/Theme oracle = Uphold / Strength
Descriptor/Focus = Inhabited Facility
“It’s nothing,” she told the men, “Just a bad dream.”
Gaz looked down at her, her soft, round face illuminated by the orange light of the torch. It wavered slightly as a breeze picked up. He spoke, “It could be important. Please, tell us about it.”
“I dreamed that we were close to finding the rest of the Order members. There was…some sort of a fortress. There was something at the gates, and Havoc,” she looked right at him, “was trying to stop them, along with some people…I think they lived there, maybe. I didn’t recognize any of them. But Havoc, you…”
He looked at her expectantly, though he already knew what she was going to say, “You couldn't keep the gates shut. On the other side there was…There were so many of them and they all just kept coming. They looked like zombies, maybe, something not alive. They got us all.”
Havoc swallowed the spit in his throat before saying to her, “It was just a dream. You’re being a silly little girl again.”
“But it felt so real. Gaz, you know,” she looked at him with pleading eyes, “You know that sometimes, my dreams…”
“Hush now,” Gaz said, interrupting her, “It was just a dream. I don’t want to hear any more about it now. Are you awake? It’s almost your watch.”
Mouse, whose jaw had been hung agape at Gaz’s interjection, slowly closed it before saying coldly, “No, I don’t think I can sleep now.”
“Good,” Gaz said before snuffing out his torch, and stepping back towards his bedroll, “Wake me in a few hours.”
Havoc asked Mouse, “Comere, want me to show you the perimeter I’ve been keeping?”
Mouse said, “Sure,” before getting out of her bedroll and affixing her raccoon skin cap and taking her bow and arrows.
Havoc showed her the swamp bank, adding, “I don’t think it’s very deep. You ought to hear anyone or anything walking there.”
The moon reflected still, prompting Havoc to ask, “Mouse, do you remember if the moon was out last night?”
Mouse looked up and said, “No, I know that it wasn’t. I like to study the stars, so I was definitely paying attention.”
She looked up at the sky and frowned, “No, this can’t be right. There’s no archer in the sky. Where are we??”
Move: Gather Information
Weak Hit, + 1 momentum, and a complication
Mouse looked desperately for any constellation that she knew but couldn’t find any at all. She gave a sorry look at Havoc, telling him, “Either the sky has shifted, we are not on our home planet, or something else. No matter how it’s happened, all I can tell you is that it’s not right.”
Havoc didn’t know what to make of that, and he told her so, “None of this makes sense. I need to sleep.”
“Good night,” Mouse said, “Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
Havoc groaned and said, “I thought I told you not to say things like that? What you say can come true.”
Mouse shrugged, “Well, wouldn’t that be good? I told you that you won’t be bitten by bed bugs. Would you rather that I wish I did?”
The kid was playing, and Havoc realized that he was being outmaneuvered. He started up the hill to go to bed.
Mouse watched him leave before looking back across the swamp and the trees. She thought about her dream and did her best to try to remember the details, but in her mind’s eye everything was covered with the veneer of dreamstuff that made distinguishing specifics difficult.
To pass the time, she hummed to herself, and before she knew it her shift had ended and it was time for her to wake up Gaz. The terror had resided and she was feeling sleepy herself. Gaz stirred when she lightly kicked his bedroom and emerged a moment later, but something wasn’t right.
“What? You have an eye under that patch?” Mouse whispered to him.
Gaz looked embarrassed and reached for his eyepatch hanging on a nail in a dilapidated timber. He quickly donned it and rose out of his bed. “Go to sleep,” he told her.
Gaz walked outside of the cabin, leaving Mouse to herself. The moon’s light illuminated the clearing that their shelter had sat in quite well, and he elected to explore it a bit to pass the time. From what he could tell of the architecture, it incorporated a few flourishes that he was unfamiliar with; some of the logs looked to slot together, or at least they had before the rot had set in. The rafters and what remained of the roof were choked with thick kudzu vines, which were likely responsible for most of the structure’s woes.
Finally, daylight dawned and Gaz awoke his companions. He set a pot of swamp water to boil and set a piece of tarpaulin above to gather the purified water. He used this water to heat a pot of coffee, which he and Havoc partook of, but Mouse had something to say, “How can you drink this stuff?”
Gaz and Havoc exchanged a look, “How can you not?” Havoc asked, “Waking up is hard without it.”
“Have you considered that you’re just old?” was her reply, which seemed to shut the soldier up. He stood and stretched, the cracking of his bones audible in the crisp morning air.
“There’s no doubt about that,” Havoc said, beginning to stow his things, “Now, where are we going?”
“I think we should follow the swamp’s shoreline. I bet we can find a village that way, or something,” Mouse offered, “And then we also won’t get bogged down.”
She lifted her eyebrows, “Get it? Bogged down?”
Havoc groaned.
The three packed their bags and set off. The sun was rising, but a strange gloom still hung about. There were no clouds, but a mist seemed to obscure the sunlight’s presence in the sky.
“Mouse, why don’t you set the pace?” Gaz asked, hoping to foster some confidence in the girl.
“Aye, aye, captain!” she said sarcastically.
Move: Undertake an Expedition: To Civilization
Rank: Troublesome (3 boxes per progress)
Strong Hit, Mark Progress (3/10)
The three made good time. The sounds of the swamp water were occasionally interrupted by the sounds of strange splashing, some of it quite aggressive, but Havoc reassured his comrades that, “It’s probably just some gar or alligator feeding. We don’t have anything to worry about.”
Seeing the look on Mouse’s face, he followed up with, “They’re warier of us than we are of them.”
Mouse said, “I’m not going to stick around and test that out. Let’s keep going, maybe their nest is near here or something.”
Move: Undertake an Expedition
Miss. Pay the Price - an individual or community you care about is exposed to danger
After another hour’s worth of traveling along the shoreline, Mouse stopped dead in her tracks and gasped, “Is that…a hand?”
She pointed at the skeletal remnants laying in a section of reeds that laid flash.
“That’s an alligator nest,” Havoc remarked.
“How do you know this?” Gaz asked.
“Did a few tours of action down in the southern marshes,” Havoc said, looking back at the hand, “Flesh has been picked clean. No gator that does that. Maybe a buzzard or something, but the gator may have been why the hand is here to begin with.”
Gaz dared to disturb the reeds a bit further, and when he did he found a ring not too far away that gave him distress.
“That’s the Garret family signet,” he said, picking it up, “This was Mortimer’s hand.”
Mouse paled, “So something happened to them…how would it have happened so fast? None of this makes sense.”
She seemed to be on the verge of tears.
“No use in crying,” Havoc said, “Either he’s dead or he’s missing a hand, either way we got to keep going.”
Gaz concurred, but he wished that Havoc had gone about it in a more gentler way.
“We do need to press on,” Gaz said, “I’ll take point.”
Mouse nodded and fell in behind the men.
Move: Undertake an Expedition
Weak Hit. Mark Progress (6/10), but face a peril
Gaz led his comrades further down the shore. It was midday, and the mists seemed to have sprung up from the ground without cause or reason. Gaz thought that he could hear something on the water, just beyond the edge of his visual limitations. Then, he caught a glimpse of it.
“You there!” he cried out, “On the boat in the water, hello! We are lost, looking for a safe place.”
Gaz could see the motion ceasing that propelled the boat, a man standing up and using a quant to push against the shallow swamp water. The vessel was about the size of a canoe, but a bit wider and flatter.
The figure seemed to regard them for a moment but said nothing. It resumed pushing itself along and was gone from Gaz’s sight.
“Why didn’t they say anything?” Mouse asked.
“Something’s not right. What kind of a person doesn’t help out another?” Havoc proposed, “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“You don’t have a good feeling about anything,” Mouse retorted, “But I agree. We need to keep going.”
Gaz hadn’t changed the direction he was looking, straining his one exposed eye by squinting and trying to pierce the mist’s veil. He shook himself out of it, looked back at his two companions, and said, “I think we’re close to somewhere. Let’s go.”
Move: Undertake an Expedition
Weak Hit. Mark Progress, but face a peril (9/10)
The mists now obscured all but a few feet in front of them. Without realizing it, Mouse had clung to the rear of Gaz’s cloak, so that she wouldn’t lose sight of him. Havoc could be heard jangling at the rear.
Without warning, the water to their left erupted, and out came an alligator charging straight for them. Havoc interposed himself between his mates and the beast.
Move: Face Danger w/ Armored (preset action die to 4)
Strong Hit. +3 momentum
The alligator took hold of the armored shin guard, and its jaw tightened as it attempted to roll with its prey, but the effort was ineffective. Havoc laughed, “You’re gonna need more weight to move me, little one.”
He withdrew his sword and gave a few wacks at the beast’s hide which prompted it to release and turn to go back to the water.
Gaz and Mouse were dumbstruck by the action.
“What?” Havoc said, brushing off his shim guard, “That was a juvenile. Maybe 2 or 3 years old. We weren’t in any real danger. I don’t know what got into it, though. They aren’t usually so aggressive.”
Gaz and Mouse exchanged a look.
“Aren’t we close?” Havoc asked, attempting to shift the focus from himself.
Move: Finish an Expedition
Weak Hit. Make Expedition reward one rank lower - none for a Troublesome expedition
Face an unforeseen complication
They were more than close. A few hundred more steps along the swamp’s shore and they almost walked into a gangplank that led to an elevated wooden walkway above the swampwater.
Gaz tested it out with his foot first and took a few steps up. Most of the village itself was still obscured by the fog, so he offered out a small but loud, “Hello? Anyone around?”
The silence replied. Gaz walked up the plank and the others followed. When they had reached the point where it leveled out, the walkway sat at least 12 feet above the water below. More interestingly, the gangplank had a hinge and a set of leather pull straps that allowed for the walkway to be withdrawn up.
At the top, more of the elevated buildings could be seen. They looked like simple shacks, with thin wooden walls and thatch roofs made from some of the moss that hung from the bald cypress trees throughout the swamp.
“Looks like nobody is home,” Havoc said, walking towards one of the doors of a house. He knocked gently and the door actually gave way, opening up to reveal the spartan interior. His nose was assaulted by the smells of dirt, sweat, and…
“Ugh, that’s shit,” Havoc said, “Chicken shit.”
A squawk sounded and a skinny-looking chicken tried to bypass Havoc, but the soldier was too fast, punting it gently back inside.
“Looks like the floor’s all dirt. They live with their livestock in the house, probably to keep the gators from getting to them,” he said, “I saw a fat pig in there, too.”
“So where is everybody?” Mouse asked, venturing further down the walkway.
“Church,” a man said, stepping unexpectedly from the darkened doorway of a house that seemed to be a bit larger than the others and causing Mouse to jump with a startle.
“Church,” Gaz repeated, hoping that the stranger would elaborate.
“Yes, church. And who are y’all?” the man stepped from the doorway, revealing himself to be of late middle age, short, bald. His face bore a thick white beard that looked like it was staging for an invasion on his swollen neck.
“Travelers,” Gaz replied, “Looking for a safe place, and maybe some directions. We’re quite lost, I’m afraid.”
“Hmm,” the man said simply, a thick accent underlining the words that make him smee guarded and unsure“And you can be on your way soon?”
“We can leave first thing in the morning,” Havoc said, “Look at this old man, he’s not doing so hot. A night’s rest and a general direction is all that we are asking.”
Move: Aid an Ally - Secure an Advantage
Weak Hit - +1 on next move
“Please just show us some kindness,” Mouse asked, “I can provide some entertainment for the evening. I’m like a one-woman band.”
Move: Compel +heart +1
Strong Hit, +1 momentum
“Y’all can occupy the empty house at the end of the lane,” the man said, “Forgive me for being rude. I’m Mayor Mitri Swollen, and welcome to the village of Swollen Creek. Please, stay as long as y’all like, so long as y’all don’t bring trouble.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Mouse said, “I’m Mink, and this is Gabriel and Havana. If there’s anything that needs to be done to pay for our stay, we are quite capable.”
Gaz nodded, and Havoc gruffed.
Move: Make a Connection
Rank: Dangerous
Role: Mayor
Weak Hit, introduce a complication
“Well, now that you mention it, we were expecting a delivery that hasn’t made it in quite like it was supposed to.”
“What sort of delivery?” Gaz inquired.
The mayor looked left and right, as if he feared being watched, and said, “Moonshine. From the Martin-Schwartz Distillery.”
“Never heard of it,” Havoc said, “And I consider myself to be an expert drinker.”
“Well, of course y’all ain’t heard of it,” the mayor said exasperatedly, “It’s an underground operation. I’m starting to regret mentionin’ it to y’all.”
“Don’t worry,” Gaz said, “We’ll go get some, I’m not in the habit of leaving behind debt.”
“Yeah, and besides that, I want to try it! I swear we’ll get your delivery!” Mouse piped up.
Move: Swear an Iron Vow to a Connection
Get Swollen Creek their Martin-Schwarz moonshine
Rank: Dangerous
Weak Hit, +2 momentum
Move: Develop a Relationship - Mayor Swollen
Mark Progress for Swearing a Vow (2/10)
“Well good,” Mayor Swollen said, “Folks ought to be coming back from church here soon. Please, make yourselves at home there,” he pointed at the empty residence.
“Thanks!” Mouse said, walking that way first and opening the door. She frowned to herself. The floor was covered in more than an inch of dirt and smelled a lot like a barn.
Gaz and Havoc were close behind her, but they pressed in and laid claim to two of the four beds within, tossing their bags on them.
“Can we maybe tidy up?” Mouse asked.
“Probably not,” Havoc said, “The smell is probably permanently in the walls. There are no droppings on the floor, so the scent will just remain.”
Mouse continued frowning and gingerly walked across the dirt floor to the bed against the far wall, putting her gear down just as carefully.
“Well, I think I’ll be spending as much time outside as I can,” Mouse said, taking her violin and leaving.
She strode outside and found the Mayor filling the hollow tops of some of the poles with a sort of oil.
“What’s that?” she asked him.
“Tronella,” he said, “Keeps the skeeters away,”
“Ahh, mosquitoes. Right,” Mouse said aloud, thinking to herself, “Of course this place has mosquitoes, all that stagnant water.”
“Well, thank you for doing that,” Mouse replied.
“Oh, it’s nothin’. Part of my duties as Mayor,” he said.
Mouse thought for a moment, “Forgive me if this is rude,” she started, “But why didn’t you go with everyone else to church?”
Move: Compel +connection
Weak Hit. +1 momentum,
“I’d rather not talk about it,” the Mayor said, “But I can’t be rude to guests. My son Isaac just passed, and I’m mourning.”
“Oh,” Mouse said, finding that she had put her foot in her mouth, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” the Mayor said, “Nothing that can be helped. Disease. The land has him now.”
Mouse was curious, but didn’t want to pry any further. She was spared by the sounds of water being displaced and the low sound of voices.
“Oh, is that them returning from church?” Mouse asked.
The mayor nodded and walked towards the entry gangplank. Mouse followed. A dozen or so boats came to a stop on the shore of the swamp, and the people departing them looked as though they had put some effort into looking nice, and might have been if their clothes hadn’t all been so dirty.
The first of the crowd stepped onto the gangplank, and the mayor addressed them, “Welcome home. We have guests. Please treat them with true Swollen Creek hospitality.”
Mouse moved out of the way on the elevated path, letting the villagers pass and doing her best to make a good first impression with a smile, but many of the fifty or so people filed past without even looking her way. Perhaps a half-dozen even acknowledged her presence, but they seemed to look at her only briefly, as if even a glance was dangerous.
Gaz and Havoc had stepped outside to greet the villagers, but received mostly the same treatment. The villagers entered their homes, a few of them having to keep the livestock from running out, and shut the doors.
Havoc gave Gaz a look, “Lively bunch, aren’t they.”
“Perhaps it’s just a day of rest,” he said, “They may be settling for a nap or something. Besides, it ought to be a bit cooler as the sun goes down.”
“Right,” Havoc said, looking up at the mist and the sky, “Because the sunlight is so intense here, and that’s why it’s so very hot here. I’m wearing a full suit of armor and I’m barely sweating, what the hell are you talking about?”
“You don’t feel that heat?” Gaz asked.
“No, but I did a tour in the southern marshes and got pretty acclimated.”
“You’ve mentioned it a few times,” Gaz said, walking forward and leaving him, “I’m going to ask the mayor if any more of us have passed through here.”
He left Havoc standing there and found the mayor filling the last of the oil burners. Gaz inquired, “Are we the first travelers to come through here in a while? We are trying to find the rest of our friends?”
Move: Gather Information w/ Sleuth
Strong Hit, +2 momentum
“It’s been a few months,” Mayor Swollen said, “And the last bunch that came through here were going to cause trouble, so I sent them on their way without letting them in.”
Gaz asked, “Can you describe them?”
“Sure. About half of them were outfitted like your friend there, the one with the armor. Another had an eyepatch just like yours, and he was missing a hand.”
Gaz did his best to keep himself contained, his thoughts running wild, “That was the Order. But months? There’s no way.”
“Ahh,” Gaz said, “Well, which way did they go?”
“They stole a few of our keelboats and shoved off east across the water. Never saw them come back, so they probably followed the natural path of the swamp southeast. I was glad to be rid of them. They would have drawn…attention.”
“Attention from whom?” Gaz inquired.
“The Governor. I like to keep Swollen Creek nice and quiet, no reason for anyone else to become involved in our affairs. Y'all sure are asking an awful lot of questions for someone who says that they ain’t here to cause trouble,” Mayor Swollen spoke admonishingly.
Gaz knew when it was time to back away. Besides, the Mayor might be a bit more forthcoming after a few drinks of that desired moonshine.
Move: Reach a Milestone - Find out what happened to the Order’s Party
Mark Progress (8/10)
“Please forgive me,” Gaz started, “I haven’t been feeling very well, I’m not used to the air here or something.”
The Mayor put the lid back on the container of tronella oil and nodded, “Get some rest then.”
Gaz retreated to their house and did just that, where he found Mouse preparing her violin for a show.
“Going to earn our keep here,” she said, “Put on a good show, get some spirits high.”
Gaz sighed, knowing that there wasn’t a way to convince her otherwise. Mouse looked for a piece of real estate in the town that would be enough for her to play and for people to dance, finding a small courtyard around a pulley system, a well of sorts.
Mouse began to play instrumentals only, softly at first, but then picking up the volume as she went.
Move: Sojourn w/ Artist
Strong Hit, +1 momentum
Gaz - Heal, Heal
Mouse - Hearten
Mouse could see a few people taking peeks at her through their doorways and windows, and so she picked it up. She wasn’t sure what genres might be popular here locally, or if the villagers were even accustomed to live music at all, but she kept playing anyway.
After a few minutes, a young girl with dark brown hair ventured out of her house and came to the square. She did seem to be dressed in her Sunday best, with a light pink dress smudged with mud and a slightly brighter pink ribbon in her hair. She sat on an old rotten crate next to Mouse, kicked her feet with the music, and offered perhaps the first smile that she had seen since entering this village, marked by a gap in her teeth likely from losing a baby tooth.
Her smile must have been infectious because she was soon joined by a few other children, some of which started to dance. Strangely enough, none of their parents came out.
Gaz watched this performance from the window of their meager housing, a nice distraction from what he knew must come next. The fetid water wouldn’t be good for the wounds on his forearms that the wolves had bitten, and so it was time to disinfect it. Gaz reached deep within his pack and withdrew a thin glass bottle and uncorked it. The aroma of alcohol struck his nose, and he took a long gulp as Mouse continued to play.
Then he placed a rag over the top of the bottle and put a dab of the vodka onto it before applying it to his wounds. The sting was immediate and fierce, but Gaz bore the pain silently. He recapped the bottle, about halfway gone, and put it back into his bag before laying down.
“Whatever needs to be done, we can get a start on it tomorrow,” he thought to himself, looking up at the thatch roof. He was asleep before he knew it.
Havoc stood among the tall reeds, the sound of Mouse’s playing faint in the distance. He had pulled a boat away from the village using her performance as a distraction. He flipped the boat over, so that it wouldn’t draw any water in the event that it rained, and he obscured the spot with foliage.
“Camoflauged well,” he thought, taking a step back to look at his handiwork, "I've still got it."
He looked back towards the village, hidden in the swamp’s fog.
“I can’t put my finger on it, but something isn’t right about that place, or those people. Best to squirrel this away and have a way out.”
His work done, Havoc walked back along the shoreline, following the sound of Mouse’s violin amidst the ambient noise of the swamp. The sun had sunk below the horizon, and twilight befell the swamp. Suddenly and without warning, the bottom fell out of the sky. The rain combined with the fog blanket, reducing visibility to only a few feet ahead of him.
Raindrops the size of thumbnails fell from the sky, pelting Havoc and causing cacophony on his armor as they rang out. Havoc grimaced and pressed on, though the semi-dryness of the bank was replaced with mud. His heavy steps made the difficulty grow, and he struggled to follow the sound of Mouse’s violin. He swore that he could hear it still, and trusted his ears to guide him back in the right direction.
Havoc was startled as he nearly walked headlong into a man seated in a chair on a midsized keelboat on the swamp’s bank. A thick canvas awning overhead kept him dry, and he wore an impeccable suit, its color white as teeth.
The man’s back was to Havoc. A violin was clutched between the man’s chin and his arm. It looked a lot like Mouse's, the wood seemed to have the same stain and ornate pieces of metal. An unfamiliar style of music emanated from it. It didn’t appear that he had noticed Havoc's approach until he stopped playing and spoke, his voice soft yet loud enough to be heard over the pelting rain.
“The swamps of Barlow are not a place to be wandering alone at night, and certainly not in a rainstorm,” his seat swiveled to face Havoc, revealing a blood-red kerchief tucked into the pocket of his jacket.
Havoc was at a loss for words, a rare condition for someone as spiteful and full of sarcasm as himself. The man only smiled slightly, and Havoc got a good look at his face. It was long, and his skin was smooth. The center of the man’s face bore a sharp nose, and his hair was slicked back and held in place by some sort of fastening agent. He looked like someone that Havoc could not trust. Havoc found his voice.
“I was just on my way back into the village. Are you alright? A swamp is hardly a place for a gentleman.”
The man laughed and said in an accent not unlike Mayor Swollen’s, but somehow lathered on a bit thicker, “Oh-ho, who said I was a gentleman?”
“My apologies,” Havoc said, “I don’t mean to offend. I only see nobility wearing clothes as fine as yours, from where I’m from.”
“And where might that be?” the gentleman asked, taking the violin down from his shoulder.
“Far away,” Havoc said, casting his eyes about to try and find an exit from the conversation amidst the beating rain. The stranger had inspired a deep, terrible unease within him, and he was doing his best to not show it.
“Oh, come now,” the gentleman said, standing up, “We don’t get visitors very often here in Barlow, and I would be ever so remiss if I wasn’t able to extend the utmost hospitality to you and yours. Let’s try this again. I’m Sherman van Damm, and you are?”
Havoc couldn’t help himself. He felt a strange compulsion to reply.
“Havana. Havana Locutius.”
“There we go! Now, was that so hard? It’s nice to meet you, Havana.”
“You- you too,” Havana stammered.
Van Damm took care to lift a violin case from underneath his seat and tucked the instrument inside. He stood back up and looked Havana over before finally saying, “Well, Havana from far away. I’ll leave you with some, shall we say, helpful advice. The swamps are dangerous during the daytime, but deadly at night. Y'all would be quite wise to stay in the safety of a place like Swollen Creek when the sun’s gone down.”
Havoc could only nod.
“I’ll be seeing you. If you ever find yourself near Fairfield Manor, you are most welcome to visit. I’ll show you some real Barlow hospitality. Oh,” he said, picking up the long quant from its stowage and using it to shove off, “and tell Mayor Swollen that Sherman van Damm sends his regards.”
Havoc swallowed the spit that had collected in his mouth and nodded, “Aye, sir. Safe travels.”
“So polite!” van Damm exclaimed as he pushed the boat into the thick fog and rainwater, out of Havoc’s sight shortly thereafter.
When the gentleman had gone, Havoc could feel the pressure in his head releasing, and he found that he had been holding his breath. He inhaled and exhaled rapidly to return to a regular breathing pattern.
“Something’s rotten in the land of Barlow,” Havoc said, his wits returning to him. He realized that the rain had stopped as suddenly as it had started. He began to move and found that the twilight had receded into the full-blown night without his realizing. He ran down the shoreline of the swamp and found himself once again at the entry ramp to Swollen Creek, but the hinged gangplank was in the upright position, making the boardwalk out of reach.
The town was quiet. The tronella oil lamps had been diminished, and Havoc thought about whether or not he should yell. In the end, his fear outweighed whatever sense of decency he thought that he needed to display, and he cried out, “Hello! I’m down here and I need to be let up, please!”
He repeated the approximates of this message for a minute or two before a figure holding a small candle peered over the edge, the tail of her raccoon skin cap dangling over her shoulder.
“Please?” Mouse said, “Now that’s a word I didn’t think I’d ever hear you say.”
“Not now, Mouse. There’s danger afoot. Let me up.”
Mouse looked about for the release mechanism and struggled for a moment, lifting the heavy boards up and over its axis. It fell with a loud noise to the mud below, and for a moment Mouse thought that she had broken it.
Havoc rushed up and grabbed hold of one of the leather straps, pulling it back up behind him as he went. The noise had attracted attention, as many faces and a few candlelights had appeared in doorways. Mayor Swollen emerged from his house, striding towards the two of them angrily.
“Why'd you go and do that for?” he asked, “The way was shut for a reason. It’s dangerous after dark.”
“I was stuck down there,” Havoc said, “Mouse let me back up.”
“And almost broke the gangplank!” Swollen declared angrily. “This is a serious matter.”
“Yeah, I’d say so,” Havoc said, “Look, I’m sorry, nobody explained the rules to me until your friend did out there.”
“Friend?” Mayor Swollen inquired.
“Yeah, a gentleman named Sherman van Damm?”
Even by candlelight, Havoc and Mouse could see the color leave the Mayor’s face, frozen in dismay.
“Y'all gotta get goin' right now,” he said after a moment, “You can't stay here no more.”
“What?” Mouse said, “No way, not when you look as afraid as you do right now. You offered us shelter. You can’t go back on your word!”
Move: Test Your Relationship
Miss with Matching 10s
Lose the Connection and envision the complication
“Out, go on now, git!” the Mayor yelled, “You done cursed us with your presence, I shoulda known better! Get your friend, get your stuff, leave now and never come back!”
“Geez, fine, okay, okay, give it a rest,” Mouse said, stepping between the Mayor and Havoc, who was visibly tensing his hands into fists, ball and flat, ball and flat, “Come on Havoc, let’s get Gaz and let’s go.”
Havoc pointed his finger over Mouse’s shoulder, shaking it right in the Mayor’s face, “Fuck your moonshine, and fuck this shitty village. A bunch of pig-fucking peasants, that’s what you are. You’re going to get what’s coming to you one day, mark my words!”
Move: Forsake your Vow - Moonshine Delivery
Envision the impact of this failure
Gaz: Endure Stress
The community bears the brunt of this failure
Havoc: Your reputation suffers
“Havoc, that’s enough!” Mouse said, “Come with me to get Gaz and let’s go!”
Havoc could scarcely contain his anger. He stomped down the walkway, each step seeming to threaten to put a hole through the boardwalk. He threw open the door to their temporary lodgings, and yelled at Gaz, “Wake up, old man! We seem to have worn out our welcome here in this shithole!”
Gaz stirred and rubbed his good eye, rolling out of bed in his undergarments only. He moved slower than usual, either a side effect of his recent injuries or–
“Wait a minute,” Havoc exclaimed, sniffing the air slightly, “You’ve been drinking? At a time like this? Ah, for fuck’s sake, old man!”
Havoc tore at the doorknob and ripped the door from its frame, throwing it down from the walkway and into the swamp water below.
“That’s enough. Whatever -” Gaz stumbled over his words, “Whatever’s happened, we’ll figure it out. Give me a moment.”
“I’ll be waiting at the town’s exit. Hurry the fuck up.” Havoc stomped off again.
Mouse had caught up to him, and began helping Gaz pack and get to his feet. Her bag was mostly packed by virtue of having never been unpacked, so she didn’t have much work to do. She threw her pack onto her back and strung her bow, knowing that they would be venturing forth into danger again. She slung it over her shoulder and helped Gaz with the other. They walked out of the home together.
Mouse caught a glimpse of the first girl that had danced to her music. She was still wearing her pink Sunday dress. She ran up to Mouse and hugged her leg. Gaz stood on his own for a moment while she crouched down to hug the girl whose name she had not gotten.
The girl spoke to her, “Go to the church, straight east through the water. Pastor Walter will keep you safe.”
Mouse thanked the girl and stood back up to support Gaz. She waved and walked off. She found Havoc where he said he would be, steam seeming to rise from his armor in the cool night air. She led Gaz down the gangplank, walking past the mayor, who was leaning against a post waiting for them to leave.
As Havoc came down the ramp, he pivoted on his heels and faced the mayor one last time. He yelled, “And here’s something to remember me by, fuckface!”
Havoc jumped up in the middle of the gangplank, where the wood was the weakest. When he landed, it splintered with a crack and broke in half, nearly knocking the armored man down. He gave a rude gesture, slamming his elbow into the palm of his hand and bent down, picking up the broken pieces of the gangplank and tossing them unceremoniously into the water.
Mouse walked away, fighting back tears, “Why is he like this? Can’t he just control his anger? This is so embarrassing.”
She and Gaz walked away while Havoc skipped the remnants of his destruction into the water. She was aimless, and Gaz didn’t offer her any help.
After a few minutes of walking through the dark, her feet were soaked through her soft deerskin shoes from where she had stumbled through the water. Havoc had been right at her heels, and said, “Follow me. I stole a boat earlier.”
“This is why we’re getting kicked out?” she asked, “Or…who is Sherman van Damm?”
Havoc stopped in his tracks. He spoke solemnly, “I don’t know, but Swollen was right to fear him. There was something unsettling about him. A gentleman wearing a suit, playing the violin on a boat in a rainstorm, it was so strange.”
Mouse was confused, and didn’t even know where to begin.
“Whatever,” she said, “Just take us to the boat. We can go east through the swamp to the church. Maybe we won’t burn that bridge. Or stomp the gangplank, rather.”
Havoc grunted and led them to his boat stash. Gaz was aware of what was happening but was silent. The three climbed aboard and stowed their gear. Gaz took up a position at the rear of the boat, using the quant to push them from the shore.
Gaz thought about what he had learned that day. There was more than met the eye to this situation, undoubtedly. The boat moved silently across the water, through the dangerous night.
Move: End a Session
Next session’s focus: journey to the church, finding the Order’s missing party
+1 momentum for all characters
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