Dwarves In Da Hood

More of the dwarves start to stagger out of the tavern back into the dark streets of the 8th Level and the door guards start to grab the comatose and/or dead customers by the scruff of their collars and then hurl the drunks/corpses bodily into the street outside.

Winnacer looks at Porter and his little dwarf friend expectantly.

Porter looks at Winnacer as if to say:

"What? I gotta hold your hand?"

However, he then moves to approach the fat bastard of a halfling with Thrandor in tow. Then, on second thought, he turns to Fae, saying:

"Your assistance might be of use here. Flashing your tattoos might gain us some respect that otherwise will probably require us to break half the heads in this place. Mind accompanying me?"

Fae shrugs:

"Better than tha alternative I suppose," she says as she rolls her eyes in the direction of Winnacer.

Faewen'il then nonchalantly rolls up the sleeves of her dress beneath her cloak before following Porter and Thrandor; to whom she says something in dwarven (which roughly translates to: 'we will get your dick out of the fire soon'). This does very little to calm the totally shot nerves of the dwarf, but he sheepishly follows after the pair of them nevertheless.

Porter approaches the fat halfling owner, saying:

"We have business with Emsee. He's not expecting us, but he'll definitely want to see us."

The fat bastard halfling looks up at him, his arms crossed. He spits on Porter's boots and says:

"So f***ing what? You want a f***ing round of applause or somethin'?"

"I ain't his f***ing babysitter. If you want to see him, then he's round the back," he adds, pointing to the side of the stage. "It's your funeral."

Porter purposely ignores the halfling and heads towards the back of the inn with Fae and Thrandor in tow.

Meanwhile, back in the main room, Winnacer looks around the mostly vacated tavern, his face tight and his ears ringing. Either the quiet or the halflings must be bothering the young Lord and he speaks to Rowan:

"So, what did you think of the show?"

Rowan is silent, still trying to comprehend the events of the past few hours.

The door to the back room is easy to find, but there are two enormous looking dwarves with hammers standing in front of it. The pair of them look less than delighted at seeing Porter, Faewen'il and Thrandor advancing.

Not showing any signs of being intimidated whatsoever, Porter looks down and speaks to them:

"Tell Emsee that friends of FaithHealer Geisler are here to see him."

The dwarves don't react at all, standing before the door and staring at the three of them.

Porter turns to Thrandor:

"More translation needed, I think."

Thrandor, however, is quaking with fear and trying his hardest to hide behind Porter. Faewen'il sighs and starts to translate. The bodyguards' shrugs and facial expressions alone are enough to tell them all that this isn't getting them through the door. One of the guards then barks to Faewen'il.

She translates:

"He be sayin that Emsee be tellin them not to be lettin nobody in."

Porter is obviously getting pissed now. With the most intimidating look that he can muster (which is VERY intimidating) he leans down until his eyeballs are just inches away from the eyeballs of the one that did the talking and hisses:

"Now, I need to get back there to talk with Emsee. You can choke on your own tongue, you thick bastard, or you can cooperate?"

Either the dwarf suddenly learned how to speak Bohavian, or Porter's body language alone was enough to tell the dwarf that he is dealing with someone out of his league.

The two dwarves stand aside from the door, but continue to glare at the three of them with evil intent as they do so.

Porter stares back at them for a moment, and then throws opens the door. The three of them see that the door opens up into a fair-sized room that seems to be filled with smoke. Inside the room are the four members of 'Diggerz Wiv Attitude' lounging around with several dwarven females in varying states of undress fawning all over them. There are several empty vials of 'Suck' scattered all over the floor.

Immediately that the door opens, all four of the members inside have their calivers in hand and pointing towards the door, lighting the matches from their cheroots in an easy, practiced movement.

No one speaks for a tense moment, the dwarf-girls freezing in place.

Then Emsee speaks:

"Who da f*** yo be, yo piece-o'-shit lankee muthaf***ers?" he barks.

"Word," agrees Ice Pick in his deep, gravelly and totally stoned voice.

Porter looks at the four Diggerz, thinking that he had to agree with Winnacer; he wished he had Booker T with him, 'cause the whole thing would be a snap. 'Cept that he wasted Booker T for a week in the ratmen's lair.. .

Porter cocks his head to one side:

"Yo, we BE friends a of lankee that helped you out a while back. I understand he helped your digger ass out of a jam once, and now his ass is probably in a jam, or probably worse. My crew back here needs some help finding him. As for who he is, he's some sort of FaithHealer - Lechit or some shit like that. I'm not really sure, but I bet you remember. If not, my boys back in the room can help you out."

Fae keeps silent for the moment. Instead, she drapes an arm around Porter in a rather friendly fashion and leans on him a bit... but she keeps herself well clear of his weapon in case he needs to draw it. Her face contains a knowing smirk that lights up her eyes with amusement, even if it seems to have a somewhat deadly edge to it.

Porter is completely taken off guard by Fae's actions, with only his experience in these situations keeping him from making what could be a fatal lapse in his demeanor. Trying his best to concentrate, Porter looks straight ahead at Emsee.

The DWA don't lower their calivers as Porter speaks, but Emsee's mood does seem to lighten a little:

"Yo, that FaithHealer did patch up my digger-ass when those goblin muthaf***ers jumped me," he replies. "I helped that lankee muthaf***er out wiv some information what he wanted."

"If he gone an' got hisself in some heavy shit, then that's he problem."

"I already done him a favor back, so now we's Paid In Full," he finishes.

"Uh huh, uh huh," agrees Ice Pick.

Emsee does not seem to be ready to do any more favors right at the moment.

Porter shrugs:

"Well, that FaithHealer was onto something BIG - a freakin' jackpot, which probably got his lankee ass killed. We're here to pick up the pieces, and hopefully, more gold than all you fellas are wearing around your necks. If you guys are willing to put forth a little effort, it'd be worth your while. Oh, and perhaps it's just my lankee mentalities, but I think a bit of information for saving your muthaf***ing ass is a bit on the light side."

Emsee sneers back in response:

"Well you can think whatever yo' muthaf***ing lankee ass want's to think. That was da deal an' it ain't for piece-o'-shit lankee punk like yo to be reprezentin' what's wrong o' right."

"Respect," advises Ice Pick.

Emsee pauses for a moment:

"But what's this shit yo' talkin' 'bout all this gold an' shit?"

Porter gives the faintest of smiles as he holds his hands up in front of him, saying:

"Hey, I ain't dissin' ya, brother. Deal's a deal's a deal. From what I understand, you gave the FaithHealer some good muthfu**ing info. Now I've got some info for you."

Porter puts his hands back down, his arm coming to rest around Fae without even thinking about it.

"See, you're at what we lankees might call, a crossroads - you could lose everything ya got, or you could double it. See there's a bunch of rat bastards, and I mean literally RAT BASTARDS, looking to come through the walls of this place and kill all you muthf***ers. Then there some crazy-ass lankee muthf***king disease-infested sons-o'-bitches looking to open a can of plague-infested whup-ass on this whole city. Needless to say, someone has to stop them, and whoever stops them will get their hands on a big pile of coin and a whole lot of gunnes. Enough gunnes to take out every last Crip in the city. But I don't know the whole story. My crew back in the bar knows better than I. Why don't you have one of your posse go get'em and they can explain better than I - you can't miss 'em, they're a bunch of more lankees."

Emsee sighs:

"Man, can't this muthaf***ing shit wait fo' some o' time?" he asks.

"We was plannin' on gettin' jiggy wiv us bitches," he adds, pointing to the dwarven females.

"One time," comments Ice Pick.

Emsee looks at him strangely:

"More dan dat," Emsee replies. "We got loads o' bitches."

"Two times," says Ice Pick.

"Yo, at least," Emsee replies.

"Three times," continues Ice Pick.

"Yo," Emsee nods, "if I got 'nough 'Suck' to last."

Emsee turns back to Porter:

"How 'bouts we rap some mo' tomorrow?" he suggests. "How 'bout three o'clock tomorrow?"

"In the place to be," drones Ice Pick.

"Yo," Emsee agrees. "Back here at da Black Rock."

Porter rolls his eyes, saying:

"F***, man, we wait too long and there ain't gonna be any bitches to be knocking boots with. They'll all be a bunch of zombie muthaf***ing wackos looking to kill your ass."

At this point, Porter pauses and looks down at Fae for a second before continuing:

"Look, I'm not sure this can wait until tomorrow. Let me get me man, Winn."

Porter bellows out, yelling:

"Yo WINN! Get your lankee ass over here!"

Winnacer looks at the others:

"Lanky ass?"

He shrugs as he walks around the bar.

Meanwhile, Porter looks at the DWA, saying:

"Let my crew in here. Fellas, you oughta see the hardware this chump packs. He ain't got the shit with 'em, 'cause it's too big to be carrying around, but the shit will take down a muthf***ing WALL! These rat bastards I'm telling you about gotta have a bunch of 'em. Get your hands on that shit and you'll be the uncontested numero uno in the whole city."

Porter then again yells:

"WINN! Get your ass over here!"

This second yell spurs on the Paladin, as he breaks into a run, activating his armor and drawing forth 'Old Bohavia. Aithne, Rowan and Yaz all head on after him.

Fae gives Porter a beautiful smile and blows him a little kiss, her one hand beginning to play with her hair near the clasp of her cloak as she turns to face Emsee once more, using Porter's shoulder to conceal view of the amulet. The action also reveals her tattoos, for better or worse.

Her voice when she speaks is rather sexy sounding.

"Word... Porter Honey."

"Word," Ice Pick mimics, as much out of it as ever before.

Emsee seems to notice Fae for the first time and looks at her intently. He then calls over to Porter:

"Yo, lankee, if yo' ho' had a bit o' beard an' a bit mo' booty, she'd be one mahty fahn bitch."

He doesn't seem to react at all to the sight of the tattoos, and Fae's use of the amulet does not reveal that he sees anything unusual of them. She can determine little out of interest from delving into Emsee's thoughts as he seems too 'Sucked' up to be thinking terribly clearly in any case.

Porter didn't know whether the show was for the DWA or just to mess with his mind, but either way, he wished Fae would just cut it out, as she was becoming quite a distraction.

As Winnacer sees the bodyguards standing aside looking on with menace but not taking action, he again slows up, sheathing his sword. He enters the room, giving it a quick one over with Spravedelna's sight.

The DWA looks at the arrival of Winnacer in his full platemail in amazement. They immediately aim their calivers at him rather than Porter:

"Who da f*** is DIS metal-assed lankee muthaf***er?" asks Emsee in surprise.

"We ain't in Camelot, Sir Poncelot. Dis is Opava," he adds.

"In the place to be," confirms Ice Pick.

Porter explains the situation to Winnacer:

"Emsee here is interested in what we have to see, but he's looking for a little beard tonight, and wants to wait until tomorrow to talk business. However, I informed him that might be too late. What's the word?"

"Word," repeats Ice Pick.

Aithne remains silent.

Winnacer folds his arms in front of him before replying:

"We need the location of the Nemotz priests as soon as possible. But if he doesn't know right now, I'm not sure there is a lot he can do about it until the morning. The rest of the stuff can also wait until the morning."

Winnacer turns to Emsee and speaks:

"We are looking for three... er...lankees...that look quite sick. They look like zombies, infected with the same illnesses that have affected a number of the dwarves down here as well."

Emsee looks confused again:

"Whoa, hold up there, metalmutha," he says. "First you say these lankee muthaf***ers are lookin' sick, and then yo' be tellin' me that they be lookin' mighty ill?"

"So which they be? Sick o' ill?"

Winnacer looks terribly confused at this:

"Errm ... both," he replies. "Sick and ill."

Emsee shakes his head and turns to Ice Pick:

"This crazy mutha ain't makin' no sense to me at all."

"Respect," agrees Ice Pick.

Winnacer then continues:

"Their names are Milan Shara, Antonin Bytel and Premysl Pospishil and they are carrying a large metal box around with them, and they are looking to poison the entire water supply of Opava on St Vaclav's Day."

"If you know something, please tell us, so we can take care of those scum right away. Or if you can put us in touch with someone who knows, we'll go find them. We can talk about the rest in the morning."

"So what's all this shit gotta do wiv us?" asks Emsee. "Why da f*** should we care if these lankee muthaf***ers poison every mutha***ing digger in this city? We ain't interested in no water-drinkin' digger pussies, only dem dat drinks 'Suck'."

"They plan on contaminating the ale and 'Suck' as well," replies Winnacer. "Then all of you guys will be ...errrm...the bitches to a whole crew of ratmen. And these rats are pretty nasty, they'll kill you then they'll eat you. And that will be it for you and your crew."

Emsee starts to get rather upset as this:

"Me an' ma crew ain't no muthaf***er's bitches, lankee. Them sick, ill muthaf***ers ain't never gonna find our 'Suck' brewery an' we gonna make them ratpussies suck on our hairy digger dicks if they's thinkin' on messin' with ma posse."

Winnacer pauses and then continues:

"Well, if self-preservation is not enough to perk your interest, perhaps their wealth might be. These rats are going to be digging into your turf, on the outskirts of the 8th. If you and your crew are ready for them, you'll smear them all over the walls. Then you'll have a portal open to loot these rats, and all the gold and gunnes that they like to hoard. But if you don't help us out, they are going to come into your turf with an army and kill your poisoned butt and rape all of your....errm...bitches."

Emsee sniggers and looks around at the females:

"There's plenty more bitches around than these skanky 'ho's."

Porter adds:

"He ain't bullsh*tting, Emsee. Those funky disease-infested suckas are looking to pollute the water supply, and the ale and the 'Suck". You won't have a customer left even if you're still around."

He then says:

"Look, if you want to kick back tonight, that's fine, but at least put the word out to your people to start looking for these three bastards now. Another good idea would be to send a crew or two to each of the water pumps to keep an eye out for them."

"Just help us find these ...suckas," Winnacer continues, "and we'll help you out when the rats break onto your turf. You'll want our help."

Emsee is obviously getting tired of the conversation now, getting increasing annoyed at the constant ranting of the party. He looks at his gun, then at the party and then back at his gun again.

Fae ignores the two of them, though she hasn't disengaged herself from Porter as of yet. Instead, she furthers her search pattern through the minds of all the dwarves present, looking to see if the description of the three priests and the chest sparked any recognition.

The young Lord pauses as he looks at Emsee and his crew:

"It seems that you fellows have plans for the night. It's not our intent to ruin them."

"Yo got dat right, lankee," Emsee agrees. "Any muthaf***er what think he gonna stop us gettin' jiggy wiv our bitches gonna be one dead muthaf***er."

"Interesting sound by the way," Winnacer adds as an afterthought.

"Too damn right, lankee," replies Emsee.

"Uh huh, uh huh," agrees Ice Pick.

Fae continues to play with the amulet as she listens to Winnacer try to speak the lingo. She didn't know whether to cringe or bust up laughing at his feeble attempt. What she does do, is continue to look at Emsee and pick at his thoughts. She discovers that Emsee and the rest of the DWA aren't trying to hide anything at all. None of them know anything about the Nemotz priests at all and certainly nothing about any ratmen. She can tell that all of them are getting increasingly irritated by the conversation as they just want to go back home with the females.

Emsee is wondering whether his caliver would be able to punch through Winnacer's platemail or not. It takes her a very long time for her to find Ice Pick's mind at all. For a moment, she wonders whether or not he's got one. When she finally tracks it down, she discovers that it was hardly worth the effort, as his thoughts don't make any sense at all such is the destruction wrought by years of 'Suck' abuse. The minds of Beatmaster B. and DJ Dancin' D. aren't much better either.

Emsee finally has had enough of the conversation and gets up from his chair:

"I had 'nough o' this shit for tonight, lankee muthaf***ers. Our bitches be waitin' for us to get it on."

"Ma diggerz an' Emsee be comin' back to da Black Rock tomorrow afternoon. If ya wants to rap so'mo', then yo'll have to come see me den."

Then, without saying goodbye, he just gets up and heads for the door. The other three members of DWA and the fawning females all stagger up also and head out of the door with him. The two bodyguards fall in line behind then and trot off, constantly looking over their shoulders and sneering at the party members.

For a moment, they are alone in the backroom. The fat bastard halfling immediately puts his pudgy red face through the door, however, and shouts at them all:

"ARE YOU F***ING SHITHEAD LANKEE ASSWIPES GOING TO GET THE F*** OUT OF HERE ARE THE BOUNCERS JUST GONNA HAVE TO THROW YOUR ASSES OUT?"

As it is well after midnight now and it has been a very long day, they decide to act upon the owner's hint and start heading for the door.

On the way out, Winnacer leans over to Porter:

"We can't depend on guards to keep the wells safe. Eight levels times three wells gives them twenty four places to drop their plague. And they are priests, so they will be able to charm any guards we place. We have to find them first."

Porter asks:

"Could they infect from any level? If that's the case, then I doubt they're going to be down here, unless they've got dwarven agents. You saw the trouble we had down here, I can't imagine they'd come down here unless they absolutely had to. If they can infect the supply from any level, then the Bloods aren't going to be able to help us with that - they don't go to the upper levels."

"When I think about what one can accomplish with God-given powers of persuasion," Winnacer replies, "I would imagine they could feasibly enlist any person within this town to perform their deeds. With a well cast spell, any dwarf could become a tool for the Nemotz. And considering that all they need to do is drop a vial into the well, they should be able to do that from any level. Placing guards is just not going to be enough. We need to find the scum and stop them before they try to put their plan in motion."

"But you do make a good point," the LawBringer continues. "We know the Nemotz are in Opava and are confined to the upper three levels. We should focus our searching tomorrow to the upper levels while hoping that our other contacts will come up with some leads."

"The Bloods may not be able to help us find the Nemotz, but we need to get them on board as soon as possible. We have to get our stone worshipping friends down here to figure out where the rats are going to break through. From the sound of it, the more time we give them, the better chances we have of being successful."

A thought goes through Winnacer's head, making him sneer:

"This Lord Skritchit has really got us running in circles. I'm thinking that we'll have to return the favor once we ruin his plans here. Even if it means returning below once again."

They get to the door and see that DWA plus their entourage are still outside the door, discussing whose pad they're heading for now.

Then, suddenly, everything seems to go in slow motion.

Out of the corner of their eyes, they can see that a cart led by four ponies is coming down the street outside the Black Rock at an alarming rate - at least for a pony cart it is. The cart looks to be similar to all of the other carts that they have seen in Opava in that it appears to be a converted mining cart. This one, however, seem to be a great deal higher off the ground than the others they have seen and is painted a gloss black. The fact that it has four ponies pulling it is also quite unusual, as all of the others they have seen have either one or two pulling them.

What really gets their attention, however, are two other things about the cart. The first is that it is making not a single sound as it hurtles up the street towards the Black Rock. The second is that there are three caliver muzzles poking over the sides of the cart and three dwarven heads can also be seen looking down the barrels.

In less than a second, the cart is passing the dwarves. Although the party members don't hear a thing, the flash of powder igniting and the recoil of the calivers tells them that the guns are firing.

They look on in horror as the front of DJ Dancin' Damli's head gets taken out by a bullet, splattering over the wall of the Black Rock. The dwarf falls to the floor, quite dead. The female draping herself over Ice Pick also gets hit. The iron bullet smashes into her knee and she falls to the floor, screaming in agony. The third of the gunmen manages to catch Emsee in the shoulder. He shouts out in pain and falls to the floor, where he starts to writhe around.

"It's the Beardy Boys!" shouts Beatmaster B., as he re-lights the match of his caliver.

"Uh huh, uh huh," agrees Ice Pick as he ignores his girlfriend and seemingly casually re-lights the match of his own caliver.

Beatmaster B. brings the caliver up to his shoulder and takes aim. He sees, however, that the bullet simply ricochets off the iron side of the cart.

Ice Pick equally casually brings the caliver up to his shoulder and pulls the trigger. The match connects with the pan and the bullet flies after the fleeing cart. The party members look on to see the bullet smash into the shoulder of one of the three dwarves sending a spume of blood into the air before the dwarf slumps over into cart.

"Respect," says Ice Pick to himself and then gives a high five to Beatmaster B. before the pair of them start to reload.

The two bodyguards draw their battleaxes and start to run off after the cart. The party members can see, however, that the cart is already a good 40' away from them and the dwarves' stumpy legs have no chance of catching after the speeding cart.

Winnacer draws his caliver with one hand, reaching for the dead dwarf's cheroot with his other:

"For the abominations against Her name," Winnacer mutters in a low growl as he lights the match and takes careful aim.

He sees the pan flash and feels the recoil of the weapon, thinking how negligible it feels compared to the mighty kick of the ratmen gunne. The differences in recoil are not the only differences between the two, and Winnacer is taken quite by surprise by the lightness of the weapon. He sees the bullet hit the ground someway behind the cart. He obviously needs a little more practice with the weapon in order to get the feel of it.

Not able to differentiate between the good and bad guys, Aithne watches Winnacer fire his new toy at the retreating dwarves with something akin to horror. She feels lost and alone in a world solely populated by evil and cannot wait to get back to the relative sanity of Tall Town.

Rowan also seems unsure as to what he should be doing under the circumstances. He watches Aithne and, upon seeing her lack of action, he too decides to hold his ground and see how the situation unfolds.

As the cart continues to speed away, Porter realizes that only Aithne would have a chance of catching it, and would likely get killed trying to do it solo. Since she does not seem inclined to give chase anyway, Porter immediately draws his sword and looks to cover the fallen Emsee Hammer. He thinks that the attack may have only been the first wave, and wants to make sure they're ready for any second one. As he looks around checking the area, he sees that there appears to be no other hostiles in the area, however.

At the same time, Porter asks Yaz:

"Can you help their injuries?"

Yaz seems to be totally dazed by the whole thing, having really not been feeling himself since entering the depressing city, which is a much a torture for him as it is for Winnacer, but for different reasons.

"Uh - yeah," the druid replies, before sinking to the ground and starting to cast a healing spell upon Emsee. As the green light flows from Yaz' hand to flow over the fallen dwarf, the light transfers and has an immediate effect upon Emsee, as the dwarf starts to groan and stare around, trying to figure out what has been going on.

Fae immediately starts casting. As she pulls the small rod of amber and fur from her pouch and starts to rub them together and starts to utter the first words of the ensorcellment, a stone is hurled towards the party. It drops to the ground several feet in front of them, but has the effect of silencing everything in the area. They can all now hear the cart rattling away now, with several shouts in dwarven coming from within, plus the occasional shout in heavily-accented Bohavian.

Winnacer starts to reload and Faewen'il starts to move a short distance from the stone in order that she may be able to try to cast her spell again, although the cart is getting further and further away now. After getting Emsee back on his feet, Yaz tries to take a look at Ice Pick's 'girlfriend'. He finds, however, that the shock of getting her kneecap smashed to pieces by the bullet was too much and she is now dead.

Beatmaster B and Ice Pick both manage to reload their calivers and the pair of them sends another volley towards the fleeing cart. The cart is already pretty far away now, however, and it is a tough shot for both of them.

Showing how high on 'Suck' he is, Beatmaster B accidentally shoots one of their bodyguards in the back, sending him tumbling to the floor. Ice Pick also shows that his first hit was more a fluke than anything, as his second is nowhere near hitting the cart:

"One time," he comments, sadly.

Then, before anyone can do anything else, a cloud of misty vapors starts to form around the cart, billowing out from inside it, quickly masking the cart from view. It continues to rattle away from the tavern at a fast rate.

Aithne shakes her head and continues to do nothing. She does not aid either evil side in this private war.

Fae swears to herself as the cart disappears from view. The bastards would pay for this inconvenience as well; though her mind was trying to figure out if they somehow knew to silence the area around her, or it was just an odd coincidence.

Porter, however, immediately starts to charge after the cart, figuring the smoke to be some kind of ensorcellment cast by Faewen'il in order to slow the cart down.

Winnacer, seeing that trying to shoot at the obscured target is no longer possible, quickly draws 'Old Bohavia' and starts to charge after the fleeing cart as well.

The pair of them run after the cart for a couple of minutes. They see that the cart had already got a long lead on the pair of them, however. Although the obscuring smoke seems to be slowing the cart down a little, it is still traveling faster than the pair of them.

They see the cart reaching towards the edge of the level and then see it climbing the ramp that leads upwards to the 7th. They slow down as they realize that their chances of catching the cart now are fairly remote and then head back to join back up with the others.

Winnacer's face is hard as he returns to join Aithne, Yaz, Faewen'il, Rowan and the 'diggerz'. He turns to face those who had fallen to the assassin's gunnes, his face not softening. He shakes his head and takes several steps away from the dwarves. He turns his attention to the caliver in his hand, cleaning out the muzzle with a thin brush and rag.

He looks at Aithne, his own face a mirror of her disgust:

"Never have I imagined such a contemptible place, thick with back-biting immorality and apathy. It's almost as if they are courting their own destruction, reveling in their last few life-breaths."

Winnacer shakes his head, talking more to himself than to Aithne:

"There can be no Justice for any of these thugs. We must act in the defense of the innocents up above, who are relying upon the motives of evil men to provide for their safety. Once they are provided for, we can plant the seeds of Justice in this town."

Winnacer sneers:

"To overgrow the malignant weeds that have made the ground itself unfertile."

Winnacer reloads his caliver, shaking his head sadly:

"Let's see that the dwarves find succor for the night. The evils that they have sown themselves will have to wait until Opava is safe."

"I will not help any of these. We should leave them to the rats," replies Aithne.

Still speaking in a low voice, Aithne turns to Winn:

"Seriously, this escalation of violence between these two gangs is... ridiculous. And for us to participate is wrong. We should let the rat bastards come into the lower levels and let these guys fight it out. Then come in with an army from the surface and kill them all."

Her elven features are particularly harsh and severe as she speaks with all seriousness to Winnacer.

Winnacer looks at Aithne, quietly running her words through his head for a few seconds. Eventually he shakes his head in the negative:

"As I look around at this Spravedelna-forsaken place, my first impulse is to agree with you. Why should we intervene on the behalf of those that have done only evil? Why don't we just let them be, and reap their Just desserts, either at the hands of each other or at the hands of the ratmen?"

Winnacer's hard face grows softer:

"But we don't know that all of these 'diggerz' are evil. Or if some may have the potential for reform. We must avoid making generalizations about dwarves, even the 'diggerz' we've seen here on the lowest levels of Opava. If we fall into the trap of believing that they can never become something better, then we've committed evil. We cannot simply turn our backs on them because they do not deserve our help. It is our burden to show them a better way to be, even if it requires separating the fruit from the chaff by force."

"It is wrong to write off an entire people when they show a potential for good or the ability to change. The evils we've witnessed in Opava are horrible because they strike close to home, but they are petty in the pale of the evils of the ratmen. The ratmen are too well organized to allow even a foothold into Opava. Once they gain an inch, it will take an enormous amount of innocent blood to remove them, blood we cannot afford to lose. We have no army, we only have the few allies that will need to hold Opava together in the future. Better to work together with the lesser evils of these 'diggerz' to prevent the deaths of the Just. And just maybe, by working closely with these heathens, we can show them a better way to live. Or better yet, their children."

"In a more civilized context, Spravedelna would have long ago passed Judgement upon the likes of these dwarves. But Opava does not have those luxuries. I understand if you feel that you cannot lift your weapons to help these 'diggerz'. But I still must urge you to look past those feelings and bring your blades to bear for those dwarves who still have a chance to make good, like the dwarf thief that nicked Yaz's purse. If we turn our backs on Opava's lower levels, we may as well have killed him and all of those like him, still rich with the possibility of reform."

"Justice and Goodness should try to discriminate as little as possible. Let our behavior be a shining example for all of Opava."

With that said, Winnacer allows his Holy Symbol hang freely from his neck, no longer hidden under his shirt. He then frees up his Silver Gavel to hang from his hip, a look of renewed determination coming to his features.

Aithne shakes her head:

"I'll help those above. I won't participate in this. Your faith allows you the luxury of compromise. My own personal beliefs are less forgiving. While I respect your opinion, I differ from it."

Emsee is still groaning on the floor in pain. Yaz looks over at the rest of the party:

"We need to get the wounded away from here," the druid says. "Emsee's still in a lot of pain and he'll need to rest for the night."

"Uh huh, uh huh," agrees Ice Pick.

"Let's all get back to Emsee's pad," suggests Beatmaster B. "It's only a couple of minutes from here."

"In the place to be," agrees Ice Pick.

Ice Pick and Beatmaster B. pick up the injured body of Emsee and the uninjured bodyguard sees to the one that was accidentally shot by Ice Pick. Winnacer and Porter lift the dead bodies of DJ Dancin' Damli and Ice Pick's girlfriend and carry them to follow after the other dwarves.

Aithne holds her ground:

"I don't want any more to do with this," she says. "I'm going back to the 'Boar's Head'."

With that, Aithne tries to find her way back to the surface as best she can.

Rowan sees her leave and heads after her:

"Milady, it is not safe to walk these evil streets alone. If you will allow me, I would like to accompany you back to the surface."

Aithne does not reply, but doesn't object as Rowan walks along with her.

Faewen'il and Yaz follow after the others and, altogether, they make their way through the dark streets of the 8th level towards Emsee's residence. From the outside, the place that the 'diggerz' lead them to looks as decrepit and run down as anywhere else on the 8th. The building is covered in tags and all the windows are bricked up. There is one large iron door in the center of the wall, which looks as if it would take an awful lot of effort to break down.

Beatmaster B knocks on the iron door. A few seconds later a viewing plate in the door appears and a dwarven face appears from within. Beatmaster B and the dwarf behind the door exchange a couple of words and the door immediately opens. As it does so, the party members see that it is an elderly dwarven female behind the door who shrieks out in horror as she sees the state that Emsee is in:

"Oh, Emsee!" she cries, "have you and your little friends been getting yourselves into trouble again?"

Emsee grimaces and nods:

"Yo, bitch," Emsee replies. "Them muthaf***ers from da Beardy Boys f***ed us up pretty bad."

The dwarven woman's face changes in an instant and she gives Emsee a mighty slap across the face:

"Now look, Emsee, I've told you NOT to speak to your mutha like that," she replies. "Any more of that language and Mr. Mouth will be eating Mr. Soap again, won't he?"

"Yo, Mutha, jus' chill tha .. . ermm .. . heck out will ya?"

She wags her finger at him:

"I'm warning you."

She looks at the other dwarves:

"Now perhaps it's all best if all you boys and girls went up and played in Emsee's bedroom," she suggests. "I've got another five batches of 'Suck' to brew before the morning."

The dwarves head off up a flight of large stairs with Winnacer, Porter, Yaz and Faewen'il following after them.

The dwarven female smiles with a little embarrassment as she sees the party members coming into the building:

"Oh, where are my manners?" she says, making sure her hair is in place. "I don't think we've ever had any tall people in here before. I'm Mrs. Hammer, or Mutha as most of Emsee's friends call me."

"Now, is there anything I can get you youngsters? Tea? 'Suck'? biscuits? A nice slice of carrot cake, perhaps?"

They all carry on up the stairs, following the dwarves into Emsee's bedroom. They see that it is a terrible mess, with empty vials of suck and clothes scattered all over the place. There is also a ridiculous amount of weapons lying around, with at least 10 calivers lying around as well as an assortment of axes, knives and hammers.

Beatmaster B and Ice Pick lay Emsee on the bed. The small bedroom is now fairly crowded, what with the four of the partymembers, the DWA, bodyguards and girlfriends all milling about.

Yaz makes his way through the throng in order to get to Emsee. The dwarf is still groaning in agony. Yaz kneels at his side and begins to cast another healing ensorcellment upon him. The healing ensorcellment is a strong one, healing up the last of Emsee's injuries.

"Respect," comments Ice Pick.

Emsee is still scowling a little, but he looks up to Yaz and nods:

"Looks like I owe yo' lankee muthaf***ers a favor. So what is it dat you muthas want from me?"

"We need you and your buddies to allow for our allies to come down to the 8th without being harassed," Winnacer starts.

Emsee nods:

"Yo' got it, lankee," the dwarf replies. "If them muthaf***ers don't be messin' wiv ma posse while they be down here, then my posse won't be messin' wiv no muthaf***ers."

"Uh huh, uh huh," agrees Ice Pick.

Winnacer nods and then continues:

"We also need some of your crew to act as a guard for them, as they try to find out where exactly these ratmen are tunneling to. Once we find the spot, we are going to need you guys to help kill all the rats that will be intent on taking over your turf."

"I can be gettin' ma crew to make sure no other diggerz don't f*** wiv yo' muthaf***ers," Emsee replies. "Ain't no problem."

"But gettin' all tha diggerz to be goin' down some filthy-ass tunnels to f*** wiv some rats ain't gonna be so easy. Y'see, Emsee got respect from all dose on da 8th, but he ain't their boss to go tellin' all them muthaf***in' diggerz that they's gotta be goin' down no holes to fight no rat-bitches."

"We also need your help in finding out where these Nemotz bastards are at, if possible," Winnacer continues.

"OK, I'll be gettin' ma crew on da case straight away," Emsee replies. "I be givin' yo' ma word."

"Word," confirms Ice Pick.

"We could also use a couple of calivers, if you could make them available to us," Winnacer adds.

Porter nods in agreement:

"He's right. If I'd have had a caliver, then I might have been able to get one of those bastards who shot you."

Emsee isn't so sure about this one. He pauses:

"OK, yo' take a coupla guns if that's what yo' want," he agrees. "But don't be tryin' to f*** me in the ass. I ain't yo' bitch. I said I'd repay yo' favor for saving my hairy digger ass, but don't be pushin' me too much."

Winnacer nods:

"I understand. I have just one more request for you," he finishes. "Lastly, we would like to know a bit about the other gangs down here on the 8th. We may need to talk to them a bit as well, as they can't be interfering with our plans. And if they aren't up for talking now...they will be when we are finished with them."

Emsee pauses once again:

"That ain't gonna be so easy," he replies, shaking his head. "The other Bloods are some mean muthaf***ing diggerz."

"Look, lankee, I'll see what I can do, but I can't be makin' no promises for no other muthaf***ing diggerz."

"Come see me back at da Black Rock 'bout three tomorrow afternoon. I'll be tellin' yo' what my crew found out. I'll try and give da word to tha other Bloods too."

Winnacer nods:

"Very well," he agrees, "we'll meet up again tomorrow at the Black Rock to see what you have been able to come up with."

Porter adds:

"One other thing, my man. I have own beef with someone that does business with the Beardy Boys, so regardless of all this other shit going down, I'd be interested in helping you with that situation. The man I'm looking for is an older dwarf with a plaited beard and blue tattoos on his hands. He's a mean sonuvabitch and probably hit town recently. Any idea?"

Fae, who had failed miserably in finding a clean place to sit perks up a bit as Porter inquires about the Beardy Boys. Still in keeping with her disguise, she comes over to stand near Porter; though she doesn't put her arm about him this time.

Emsee thinks for a moment and then shakes his head:

"If that digger yo's lookin' for got hisself a plaited beard, then he don't sound like no Opavan gangbanger digger to me. Ain't no digger gonna plait his beard here. He's gotta be from some utha city an' jus' passin' through. I ain't never seen no digger that looks like that."

"If yo' lankee ass say that he does business with them Beardy Boy muthf***ers, then I guess yo' be gonna be needin' to be speakin' to them muthas. Once I be back on ma feet, ma posse an' I be plannin' on headin' on up and gettin' us a little payback. Seems like we both got our reasons for payin' a visit to them muthas."

With that, the party members start to take their leave of Emsee's pad, with Winnacer and Porter helping themselves each to a caliver from Emsee's stash on the way out.

Porter asks for Winnacer's help in picking out a caliver, asking for a good-quality one. As the young Lord looks through them all, he sees that, not surprisingly, Emsee knows his guns well and all of them show the same high degree of craftsmanship that the one that Winnacer bought from the Black Rock did. Although all of them have been used, Emsee wasn't being hypocritical when he was rapping about his great love of guns during the show, as each of the weapons has been very well maintained and the steelwork is gleaming.

Winnacer examines all of the weapons carefully before choosing the best two, although they are all excellent. He hands one to Porter, looking at him with an admonishing glare:

"Don't get overzealous with this. Wait until you've had a chance to practice with the weapon before trying to use it in combat. Grab some shot and powder as well."

Porter nods:

"Hey, trust me, after that explosion with the flame-thrower, this stuff scares the crap out of me. I'd stay away from it if it wasn't so damn enticing."

The pair of them grabs 20 packs of powder and a similar number of shot each, nod their final farewells to the DWA and then continue on down the stairs.

Mutha Hammer opens the door for them on the way out, and they walk out into the gloom of the 8th level once more.

"I think that we've done enough for one day," says Winnacer as they reach the street once more. "It's been a tiring day and I fear that tomorrow will be worse, so let's get back to the inn and get some rest."

They walk off, with Thrandor joining them, having been waiting outside the place. They walk through the now fairly quiet streets of the level, searching for a staircase out. They see several dwarves scampering away in the shadows, but none bother to approach the party and they eventually find a staircase going up after five minutes.

They walk up a couple of flights of steps until they get to the 6th level when Thrandor speaks to Porter:

"This is where I go home," he says. "This business this evening was just too crazy for me. I think I'll stick with dealing 'Suck' in future. It's safer."

The party members say their farewells to Thrandor and continue climbing the staircase until thye get up to the first level, coming out close to the Cathedral of Zemnye, which they notice has its huge doors firmly bolted. They head down the boulevard to the huge iron gates at the entrance to the city proper and look up a little nervously to see if thye are likely to have any problems in getting through the gates. They see, however, that the goblins atop the watchtowers appear to be sleeping and have no interest in stopping them at all.

They continue on out of the city, to the relative sanctuary of 'Tall Town'. They enter the 'Boar's Head' and are glad to retire to their rooms, relieved that the first day in Opava is now over. It has been a long day and all are asleep within minutes of their heads hitting the pillows.