Ah, what a day… having dug a bullet out of my shoulder and successfully mended the hole in my jacket, I felt that I was ready for anything. We approached Fishguts Wharf in Constantine’s increasingly beat-up car (although in light of recent events, I’m not sure I mind so much that we’ve trashed it…), and soon encountered Georg and his cronies. The latter we trusted enough to leave with the car, though I suppose if we do return to find it resting on cinder blocks we’ll have a reasonable idea whodunnit… but Georg gave us a ride in his lovely little boat to a charming abandoned theatre.
It certainly was atmosphric, though I think I’ll only give it three stars, owing to poor food and service (just don’t tell that to the Rag Court…)
And about the Rag Court, they were much less impressive than I expected. When people were referring to it as a Rag Court I was assumoing a big echoey room filled with… well, more than three criminal kingpin. But apparently things have gotten a little dire in the underworld of late, and we were introduced to their Rag Highnesses Hesul, Scorn and Tiber.
The discussion seemed to centre around what each of our parties knew, and what we didn’t know. What we both seemed to have gotten our heads around was that people were getting themselves dead… mysteriously. But no mystery is impossible to crack if you’ve got a gang of hardbitten ne’er do wells to help you, and a little while and a few rambling tangents later we had ourselves a clue.
All the recently deceased seem to have possessed a shard of a mirror, one of many shards originally discovered under Haarlock’s Folly. Apparently the Judiciar (the leader of this planet, who we’d probably prefer to keep alive…)also owns a couple of those shards, so we’d best get over to his place soonish. So the muscle bound antihaemophiliacs we’ve encountered indirectly so far appear to be gathering these pieces of mirror, and the recalcitrance we’ve recieved from the Folly so far alongside the stories we’ve heard seem to hang a big red sign over Constantine’s office that reads “BAD THINGS!!!”
And apparently everyone in the city os having us followed. Hoorah.
At least we seem to have the Undertow on side… they’ve taken a shine to us, and with their help we’ve shifted our Ghostfire and now we’re rich!
And Inquisitor Lemarre, if you’re reading this… we never found any Ghostfire.
Nache de la Mer Chemical