OSR: OD&D Session 1: The Ring and the Marmot

Running a vintage RPG is like running a vintage car. It's fun, but it'll make you realize how much you miss power steering, disc brakes, and seatbelts.

The GLOG is like a handbuilt hot rod. It does its job well, but is more of a heap of loosely linked hopes than a practical everyday vehicle. But you built it yourself and you know what it can do... what will  make the crankcase turn into a cloud of tinsel and smoke. The mutant AD&D version I use for testing is like a rusty station wagon. It still runs, but every part has been replaced at some point, and you wouldn't sell it to a friend. 

Running OD&D is like driving a Model T Ford. It's possible, and it's entertaining, but it's also a bit stressful. I decided to run a by-the-book OD&D game. No initial worldbuilding beyond what's in the books. No outside knowledge of Lord of the Rings or Three Hearts and Three Lions. No Greyhawk, no Strategic Review, just the 3 Little Brown Books, some dice, and some guesswork.

Wikipedia

The Setting

I cover more details about the implied OD&D-derived setting of this game in this post, but this was the pitch the players heard:

The Sai Empire is slowly emerging from a period of civil war. Fabled kingdoms and distant lands that used to send tribute to the capital slipped into independence and myth. The lands beyond the Western Desert are unmapped, untamed, and, so it is claimed, rich beyond belief.

Soldiers of disgraced warlords, drifters, criminals, dreamers, and adventurers are trickling across the desert. Most die. The wilderness is incredibly dangerous. An eagle the size of an elephant carried off a cart and two horses. Giant worms rumble under the surface. Elves stalk the forests. 

But if you survive, and if you prosper, you can be anything. Found a kingdom, a dynasty, an empire. Get rich. Discover world-bending magic. Just watch out for the storm giants, bandits, dragons, and undead.  

The PCs 

• Gorgontooth the Unslain, Dwarf. Plate armour, shield, helmet, battleaxe. Wishes to become a famous hero. Seems not to understand that "unslain" is the bare minimum qualification.
• Elizabeth Greenslade, Magic-User. Scribe to Gorgontooth, recording his heroic story. Her Sleep spell is possibly just Elizabeth reading her draft.
• Chad Bloodsworth, Fighting Man. Plate, sword and shield, rope, and mild paranoia.
• Lurp, Hobbit. Chad's squire, acquired during the wars. Plate, sling, and spear. A reformed Hobgoblin. 
• Tim Eonwalker, Magic-User. Disreputable seller of fake potions and false prophecies.  
• Alcone Darkwell, Cleric (Chaos). Tim's accountant. 
• Jacob Tallerand, Cleric (Chaos). Anxious spotty teenager. Was on a tomb-robbing expedition. Tried to raise their friend from the dead with a scroll. It wasn't a scroll of Resurrection.
• Opum, Skeleton. Jacob's friend. Bow and arrow and 2 HP. 

Every player brought at least one interesting twist to their PCs. We learned that Hobbits are reformed Hobgoblins and that they were involved in the civil wars of the Sai Empire. There's a line between too silly. "I want to play a barbarian named 'Arnold Baconandegger' and everything I say is a quote from a movie" is, usually, too silly. "My cleric is an accountant, and my magic-user is their disreputable client" is the perfect amount of silly. It helped establish that the Sai empire has banking clerics.

If Opum survives, as the text suggests, they'll level up to a 2 HD Ghoul, a 3 HD Wight, etc. I ruled that Opum had to use the Skeleton stat block and couldn't wear armour, making them exceedingly vulnerable, but with the usual Undead benefits.    

The OD&D character sheet I'm using. Based on the timeless sheet by Dyson Logos.

 

The Adventure

(Soundtrack)

Arg-e Bam, from The Desert of the Tartars (1977)

After a long and perilous journey through the Western Desert, the PCs reached Fortress Vallat, the last outpost of the Sai Empire. A heap of mud and stone in the desert, inhabited by around 100 flea-bitten and worried soldiers, the fortress felt precarious. It flew a dragon-kite, a construction of wicker, silk, and mirrors designed to warn any nearby dragons that the fortress' light catapults were armed and ready, but the soldiers rarely ventured far from its walls.

With their knowledge of Imperial paperwork and their air of scholarly superiority making the soldiers more talkative, and Tim and Alcone learned of a recent bandit attack. Everyone knew the bandits were hiding in an old tomb in the foothills, but the fortress couldn't spare the forces for a proper reprisal. Anyone who did so would earn the thanks of Ho Tjatbosk, the local Imperial governor (whose territory extended no further than a catapult shot from the fortress' walls), as well as all the bandit loot they could carry.

The PCs had bonded by their journey. Seeing that the fortress was not a source of instant wealth, they decided to take on the bandits.

07.05: Fortress Vallat
08.05 Bandit Camp

With the aid of a sketched map and some Dwarven stone-sense, the PCs were able to locate the entrance to the tomb without too much trouble. 

Fighting bandits underground seemed like a bad idea, so the PCs decided to camp on the hill above the tomb's entrance. Anyone leaving it would be clearly visible, could be attacked from above, and would have to climb a steep hill to reach the group.

Side Note: this was the first "Wow, that's a good plan." moment of the game. I hadn't expected the PCs to simply wait for the bandits to split their forces.  

As the sun set, a group of 16 bandits emerged from the tomb. Before the PCs could attack them, the large rock next to the tomb's entrance shook itself awake. Jaws slavering and eyes flashing, a two-headed Hydra attacked the bandits with ravenous hunger.  

Side Note: The Hydra was the first successful random encounter roll of the session. OD&D's wilderness is deadly. If the PCs had run into it, it probably would have killed them all. Instead, one problem solved another. Lucky PCs; unlucky bandits. I described it as a two-headed hydra because my brain misfired, but I used the stats and HP of a six-headed hydra. I think I interpreted the roll as "d8 heads", not "4+1d8 heads". 

The Hydra attacked, snapping and devouring several bandits. The bandits, in turn, were either unable to hit the lizard or unable to deal critical damage. After a failed Morale test, the handful of survivors fled into the tomb, pursued by a badly wounded but still angry Hydra.

Wikipedia

The PCs cautiously descended to loot the bodies, when a sudden swarm of eight feral hogs emerged from the tomb's entrance. They ran through the group, nearly striking several PCs, and fled oinking into the night.

Side Note: I rolled attacks for the boars, but somehow they all missed. As you'll see later, my dice favoured the PCs this session. This was another knock-on effect of the random Hydra encounter; it cleared a room and some potential enemies. 

After waiting a few minutes, the PCs descended into the tomb. In another sensible decision, they decided to immediately track down and finish off the wounded Hydra. They descended the stairs (1), ignored three metal doors (4,5,6) and a side passage, and followed the trail of Hydra blood and mangled bandits to another set of stairs (7).

As they descended, the Hydra charged, its one remaining head snapping at Gorgontooth the Unslain. Luckily, Opum the Skeleton fired an arrow into the Hydra's open mouth, smashing its brain just as its fangs closed around Gorgontooth's torso.

Side Note: Initiative in OD&D is rolled on 2d6. The Hydra had 10; Opum got 11, hit, and dealt 4 damage. The Hydra had exactly 4 HP remaining. We got the Initiative sequence slightly wrong, so the attack against Gorgontooth - which would  have nearly killed the Dwarf - was rewound. It was the closest possible shave.

Chad Bloodsworth burnt the Hydra, to prevent its heads from regrowing. The PCs decided to explore a few rooms before returning to the first level. A room to the south (12) contained a mysterious well. A room to the west contained a small pile of gold... which the PCs found suspicious. Lurp the Hobbit threw a rock at it, revealing the gold to be real gold, but surrounded by a carpet of centipedes!

With the aid of some lamp oil and a torch, the PCs burned the swarm before it reached them. Alcone Darkwell, Cleric/Accountant, started to have regrets about this new tomb-robbing lifestyle. 

The PCs bagged the gold, as well as mysterious wooden staff under the debris. It looked magical, so Tim Eonwalker grabbed it, but couldn't figure out how to activate it.

Side Note: A randomly generated Staff of Control Plants was, perhaps, not the most useful item to find in a plant-free dungeon, but that's how random generation goes.

They returned to the first level and opened the three metal doors (7,8,9), revealing only magical darkness beyond. The PCs briefly debated sending someone in with a rope tied around their waist, but nobody volunteered. 

As they continued to explore, another swarm of centipedes - perhaps disturbed by the firey demise of their brethren on the 2nd level - emerged from cracks in the stone. The PCs dealt with them quickly with oil and torches.

Side Note: This was the only successful random encounter roll so far, and centipedes - though potentially deadly - are still one of the better options on the OD&D random encounter table. It's possible for PCs on level 1 to run into 2d8 4 HD level-draining immune-to-non-magical-weapons Wraiths! 

The PCs found a few more gold pieces and another dead bandit in the pigsty (2), and some spare torches in an empty room (8). They also discovered a fountain (3), with a statue of a robed figure holding a book. Gorgontooth the Unslain guessed that it was sculpted by magic, and that the water was also probably magical. Several PCs took a drink, but the Chaotic clerics sensibly declined.

Side Note: The fountain cast Bless on Lawful characters (only Lurp the Hobbit), healed Lawful and Neutral characters for 1d6, and dealt 1d6 damage to Chaotic characters. Luckily, Lurp went first, and seeing the results none of the Chaotic characters risked it.

Also, I couldn't remember the term "pigsty." My brain came up with "piggery", to much merriment.

The party descended once again. They explored a storeroom (14) and stocked up on rations, spotted a staircase (15) but did not approach it, then found a bandit encampment at the end of a hall (23).  The bandits that would have occupied the bedrolls and tables were scattered around the dungeon thanks to the Hydra. 

The PCs heard faint music from the door to the west (23) and guessed that a few more bandits must be inside; more than 2 (judging by the three-part harmony) but less than 100 (judging by the room size). 

Chad Bloodsworth decided lure one out. Some oddly convincing cries for help attracted one bandit. Lurp and Chad grabbed him, but, as both were clad in plate armour, made an unholy racket. A brief and confusing interrogation, they determined that "around 20" bandits were on the other side of the door. 

The singing continued from inside the room, but in a slightly strained way, as if one singer was trying their best to cover up the sound of martial preparation.

The PCs prepared a very cunning plan. They assembled in front of the door, plate and shield fighters first, then kicked it open. Thirteen bow-armed bandits, with one higher-level leader, stared back at them. Before arrows could fly, Tim Eonwalker cast Charm Person on the bandit leader, unsuccessfully. Elizabeth Greenslade cast Sleep on the bandits, successfully knocking out nine of them. Lurp stunned one of the awake bandits with a rock. Suddenly outnumbered, the bandits immediately surrendered. 

Side Note: The plan was very risky and relied on good initiative rolls (or a 2-in-6 surprise check), but Sleep was practically guaranteed to take out a large number of bandits. It's a pity Charm Person didn't work, because a Level 4 Fighting Man would have made a mighty hireling, but it was a good attempt. 

The PCs forced the bandits to reveal their loot, acquiring two 2,000gp diamonds and a 6,000gp piece of jewellery; a decorative cityscape intended as a gift for the Orc city of Vardovarri. They also released the bandits' prisoner. The Orc warrior Kchut explained the whole situation to Lurp, as they both spoke goblin, and none of the bandits did. Gorgontooth listened in.

The bandits, Kchut related, had a famous leader called "The Marmot", who claimed to have a plan to conquer Fortress Vallat with the aid of a magic ring. While exploring down the well (12), the Marmot apparently perished. Dashtar, the current bandit leader, took over. The bandits are all afraid of a "cat-monster" somewhere else in the dungeon, and roast unhelpful prisoners using the fire pit traps to the south of the barracks (23).

The PCs openly debated executing everyone, or leading them back to Fortress Vallat, or throwing in with the bandits and forming a raiding crew of their own. They eventually decided to disarm the sleeping bandits, tie up the others, and lead them through the dungeon as mobile trap-finders. Chad Bloodsworth agreed to take on Kchut the Orc as a hireling. 

When the group approached the third staircase (15), the bandit leader Dashtar kicked one of the tied bandits down the stairs, then turned to run. The stairs turned into a greasy ramp, sending the restrained bandit tumbling into darkness. A spine-chilling roar shook the dungeon.

"The beast!" Dashtar cried, scrambling to escape. Chad Bloodsworth and Lurp tackle the bandit, while the rest of the group left the plate-armoured fighters behind in headlong flight. The hideous shaggy head of a Manticore emerged from the stairs, turned to look at the group, and swung its deadly spiked tail up the hallway.

Six manticore spikes shot outwards.  Six spikes struck home. All six rolled 1 damage each.

Baffled at their luck, Chad and Lurp dragged Dashtar around the corner, and the Manticore retreated to its lair to feast. 

The group debated retreating from the dungeon and splitting their wealth, but, buoyed by the lack of random encounter rolls, their new hirelings (voluntary and otherwise), and the prospect of a powerful magic ring, they decided to continue.

They came up with an excellent plan to explore the well (12). They threw down torches until the cavern was partially illuminated, then lowered the lightly restrained bandits on ropes, and then threw down weapons.

The 12 HP Giant Leech in the pool, as well as the Zombified corpses of five unlucky bandits, quickly overcame the four bandits and Dashtar. Opum the Skeleton, with tireless accuracy, leaned down the well and shot arrows at the survivors until the room seemed safe. The had plenty of arrows to waste; they took every arrow from the bandit encampment and heaped them around the well.

The PCs used all their remaining rope to build a sturdy ladder system, then descended into the cavern (25). Jacob Tallerand went first, and immediately started searching for the Marmot's corpse and its fabled ring. Heedless of danger, Jacob sprinted into a side cavern (26), found a body with a glowing fire opal ring, cut off the corpse's finger, and slipped the ring on.

Side Note: I misread my own map and put the Marmot's corpse in (26) and not (30), but so it goes.  

A flash of fire lit up the cavern, as a 8' tall being of smokeless flame emerged from the ring. "I am the servant of the ring," it intoned. "What is your will, o master?"

Jacob's eyes lit up. "Bring me a scroll of Raise Dead!" he cried. 

"This is within my power," the Djinni said, and vanished in a blast of flame. A few moments later, a scroll appeared before the startled cleric.

Side Note: Yes, technically Djinn in OD&D can't grant wishes or make scrolls. A cruel GM could  have created an illusionary scroll, but I am not that cruel. It's a real scroll (possibly stolen) but I anticipated a few problems. First, despite the group's luck, I expected that Level 3 of an OD&D dungeon would quickly thin the herd, making the choice of who to raise interesting. Second, the scroll is a fragile scroll, and could easily be damaged or destroyed. Third, raising Opum the Skeleton is Jacob's main goal, and it would conveniently turn a Skeleton (and potential Ghoul, Wight, etc.) into merely a Level 1 Fighting Man. 

"Yes!" Jacob shouted.

"What was that?" the rest of the group inquired from a safe distance. "Did you find the Marmot's body?"

"Uh, no, this was an unrelated thing," Jacob quickly lied, rubbing the ring again. 

The Djinni reappeared with a whoosh. "What is thy bidding, my master?"

"There's a Manticore in this dungeon. Go fight it," Jacob said excitedly, pointing vaguely in the right direction. The Djinni flew off like a comet.

It returned a few minutes later, with several ragged holes in it's burning torso. "I fucked up, o master," it said. "It's too strong. Ooow. Ooooowww..." It sank slowly into the ring, until only a pained face was visible on the gem's surface. 

Side Note: Run the numbers. A Djinni is a 7+1 HD creature (rolled 19 HP), AC 5, dealing 2d6-1 damage. The Manticore is a 6+1 HD creature (rolled 16 HP), AC 4, dealing 1d6 damage... and capable of firing 6 1d6 crossbow shots at once. The Djinni hits the Manticore on a 9+ (1x0.6x6=4.2 average damage. The Manticore's tail attacks hits the Djinni on an 8+, with a +1 bonus for close range. (6x0.7x3.5 = 14.7 average damage). The rolled damage worked out more-or-less the same, except that the Djinni didn't even get a hit off before taking serious damage and fleeing. 

"So we've got a weak Djinni," Chad Bloodsworth said. "Fantastic. Didn't the Marmot want to take on Fortress Vallat with this ring?"

"Maybe he wasn't very smart. I mean, he did die to a giant leech," Alcone Darkwell replied.

Gorgontooth the Unslain searched the leech's watery pit for treasure, finding a few more coins and not catching any leechborne diseases.

"My flesh is clay," he explained. "That's how Dwarves are."

Side Note: That's how dwarves are in this setting, I guess. Dwarves are made of clay, Hobbits are reformed Hobgoblins, and everyone is scared of Elves for reasons we have yet to determine.

The party ventured north (27), but entered a cave with a quicksand floor. Jacob Tallerand, Tim Eonwalker, and Alcone Darkwell started to sink, but quick work with ropes and spears pulled them out before they vanished forever. The party skirted the edge of the sand and proceeded west (28).

The slate floor of the cave was trapped. Thin plates of stone rested on a grid of thicker supports, above a 30' deep pit of spikes. 

Elizabeth Greenslade discovered the trap when the group was halfway across the room. She did not survive the fall.

The group froze. A wrong step in any direction could be deadly. As they debated their next move, two ash-streaked robed figures came around the corner, raised their hands, and cast spells at the PCs.

Side Note: The encounter I rolled was "Evil Priests", and an undiscovered room to the north contained two Evil Priests, so it made sense for them to be attracted by the noise and ambush the party while they tried to navigate the pit traps.

The first Evil Cleric a Reversed Cure Wounds spell on Tim Eonwalker, dealing a whopping 3 damage, which was enough to kill the 2 HP Magic-User. The second Evil Cleric cast Hold Person on Chad Bloodsworth, Lurp, and Kchut the Orc. Lurp passed his Save; the others failed. 

"Attack your frieeeeends," the Evil Cleric commanded.

"None of these people are my friends," Chad argued. It was true. At Fortress Vallat, Chad had carefully explained that the shared bond of travelling did not approach friendship, and that Lurp was his squire, not his friend. 

"Yeah, I just met these people," Kchut said. "I'd barely call them acquaintances. The only person who I'd say is close to a friend is Chad, and you just mind controlled him."

This brilliant telepathic argument gave the group time to act. Alcone Darkwell ran west, safely avoiding the pit traps, but pursued by the mind-controlled Chad and Kchut. Gorgontooth and Lurp opened fire with thrown stones and daggers, lightly wounding one Cleric.

One Evil Cleric used Turn Undead, sending Opum the Skeleton fleeing west. Both Evil Clerics then retreated around the corner, out of line of sight. They apparently hoped the mind-controlled Chad and Kchut, along with the pit traps, would weaken the rest of the party.

Side Note: I forgot that Evil Clerics can't cast Turn Undead. Maybe they were... Good Evil Clerics? Oh well.

Jacob Tallerand decided to leap forward, hopefully avoiding the traps, but failed. The slate floor split under the spotty cleric, and he plunged his death.

With slightly more caution, and some judicious arguing over the wording of the Dwarf's trap-finding abilities, Gorgontooth the Unslain and Lurp the Hobbit charged the two Evil Clerics. Gorgontooth slew one, ending the Hold Person spell before the mind-controlled PCs could make their attacks. In return, the other Cleric brained Lurp with a mace. The valiant Hobbit fell.

Gorgontooth the Unslain, with a whopping 7 HP, fought the remaining Evil Cleric for several rounds. He even had time to take a swig from his wineskin full of fountain water, restoring 3 HP. 

Up the corridor, Alcone Darkwell and Opum the Skeleton opened a sliding stone door, revealing a red metal door (33). They opened this door, revealing three Minotaurs with enormous axes. Alcone screamed, slammed the door closed, and ran east.

Side Note: I could have had the Minotaurs pursue, but the comic timing was too good. 

Gorgontooth finally managed to slice the second Evil Cleric in half, then returned to reveal the safe path across the pit trap room. 

With four of the eight starting PCs dead, and some excellent treasure at the bottom of a 30' spiked pit, how will the party proceed? What else lurks on Level 3 of this dungeon? Will the survivors retreat, level up, and return, or cut their losses and flee immediately? 

Wikipedia

Prep & Final Notes

Pre-session chatting, character generation, and dinner took about 1 hour, which isn't too bad. 
I could have done a better job explaining AC and the to-hit-AC values. 

3d6 down-the-line stats produced some mixed characters, but stats don't matter much in OD&D. 

I printed off a quick-reference inventory + weight page, which really sped up the gear buying process.

I had two copies of Greyharp's One Volume OD&D rules printed for the table, but I think a game like this works best if everyone has a copy of the rulebook(s). For future games, I'll print off some more. 

Lurp the Hobbit can't be revived by the scroll of Raise Dead (it's Men, Elves, and Dwarves only). But they could be Reincarnated. Hobbits cannot enter Heaven and are trapped in the cycle of samsara. 

OD&D is not a difficult system to run by the book, but it does make you miss all the little houserules, modifications, and shared wisdom (or shared foolishness) that modern-ish OSR games include.

Item-based problem solving was a highlight.  

Everyone agreed that mapping was tedious and slowed down the game without adding much of value. I tried to include several Gygaxian map tricks in this dungeon, but they didn't lead to interesting gameplay (at least compared to other types of gameplay). The mapper had to switch focus constantly, I had to remember to read out room sizes and try to describe entrance and exit locations, etc. For future sessions, I'll go back to my usual methods of revealing a pre-printed map.  

The entire session (including character generation and dinner) took 5 hours. I think that's a pretty decent pace of play, especially with two novice players.

OSR: The Mystery of Uriah Shambledrake 23 & 24 - A Snap Election

 In the previous installment, the PCs:

• Killed a load-bearing vampire.
  
• Answered several longstanding questions.
  
• Participated in Endon's second and third car crashes.
• Lost a friend.
  

The PCs are:

Tom Shambledrake
Electric Wizard and heir to the bankrupt Shambledrake estate. Inventor of the Lightning Accumulator, the Lightning Inverter, and the Iron Spike.

Jonty Earl
Dandy. Assistant Professor at Loxdon College. Deeply enmeshed in stock-jobbery and financial chicanery.

Dr. Augustus Hartwell
Biomancer. A foreign doctor and self-described "quack", currently employed at Blumsworth Hospital. Ally of speaking rats, workers, and other vermin.

Doyle Wormsby
Civic Wizard, Private Investigator. Broke his arm in Endon's first automobile accident.

Lizzy's Funeral

Lizzy didn't leave a will, and as far as the group knew she didn't have any living relatives. After some debate, they decided not to bury her in the vampire-haunted cemetery, and instead tipped her mortal remains into Ooze Vat #6. "It was what she would have wanted," Jonty said, without much conviction.

The Revolution Revolves

A revolution may be judged by two things; its transfer of political power and its transfer of economic power. In Endon, the Revolution granted political power to a segment of society that had previously sat outside the traditional parliamentary structure. High office was suddenly opened to the bulk of the Middle Class, and even the Lower Class... in theory. In practice, the leaders of post-Revolution political thought tended to be upper Middle Class citizens with a background in law, publishing, or rabble-rousing.

The class structure of Endon remained largely intact. A thoroughly titled noble of an ancient family might surly glances instead of obedient hat-doffing, lament the loss of a few vestigial privileges, and have to pay their servants and tradesmen, but mass executions and confiscation of property failed to materialize. The slower members of the Upper Class are waiting for the Monarch to return and the Army to march on Endon. The quicker ones, hedging their bets, quietly support Revolution-adjacent causes, perform public charity, or retreat to their country estates.

Economic power is almost entirely unchanged. Citizens who were rich before the Revolution are, despite threats, strikes, and better pay, rich after it. Wages rose by a few percent, but rents in the increasingly crowded city rose faster. Thanks to the Leonine Cartel, even beggars could eat (polymorphed) steak. Thanks to the constant thunderstorm orbiting Endon, vegetables were becoming a rare delicacy, and bread less and less affordable. Arcadia-Brand Ooze Milk (and Ooze Cheese), Lizzy's invention for turning waste whale guts into nutritious fluids, could supplement an all-meat diet.

Jonty debated "nationalize" the Iron Spike Company, but, when Tom proved reluctant, decided it was easier to "Iron-Spike-ize" the New Parliament. Jonty Earl, assistant professor of law at Loxdon College, also controlled Endon's central bank. The Bank of the Realm, and the Grim Baliol, were under mild siege. The last Coppers and a few die-hard royalists were trapped inside, surrounded by Benjamin Fits' revolutionaries and a network of barricades. With the Royal Mint inoperable, and the city's gold reserves inaccessible, no new bills could be printed. 

Endon's more cautious citizens hoarded gold and silver. No matter who ended up in charge, and no matter how quickly they had to flee the city, Endon's citizens knew a sock full of coins would be more valuable than a chest full of paper, whether printed by the old Royal Mint or a revolutionary replacement. Iron Spike Thaumaturgy stock certificates became, temporarily, one of Endon's mediums of exchange. Everyone agreed they were valuable, would only increase in value (but not enough to encourage hoarding in these uncertain times), and could be stored in a wallet or vest.

As long as the value of Iron Spike Thaumaturgy stock remained stable, or increased at its steady post-debut rate, everything was fine. If the value of the stock suddenly plunged, it could take Endon's entire economy with it, from high finance to basic commerce.

Such a realization might keep a lesser man up at night, but Jonty no longer slept. Six days in seven, he drank SpaceBeans Coffee and used an exhaustion transfer wand to move his need for sleep onto a very well paid servant hired specifically for this purpose. He'd tested both the coffee and the wand for weeks, found no significant side-effects, and adopted the system... despite Dr. Hartwell's vocal skepticism. While the lack of sleep would play havoc with a wizard's brain, it gave the un-magical Jonty a significant advantage in all his affairs. He could lecture in the morning, campaign in the afternoon, write letters and newspaper columns in the evening, balance the books at night, dispatch fresh orders before dawn, and repeat the whole process indefinitely. The enemies of the Iron Spike Company might get up early in the morning, but Jonty was awake all night.

Mary and Lamb

Mary Berger, apprentice, had just been expelled from the Guild of Alchemists for insubordination, low test scores, political agitation, and a tendency to fall asleep on duty. She hadn't written to her family. They'd hoped the Guild would provide a stable future for their third eldest child. Mary wasn't interested in a stable future. She wanted a revolution.

She'd left the Guild with nothing but the robes on her back, a handful of coins, and a creature that Should Not Be. One of her final projects at the guild involved assisting in the creation of a homunculus.

 Sherbakov Stanislav

She hadn't invented the process, or contributed most of the work, but as the only surviving apprentice of the group (and the main contributor of blood), she felt entitled to walk out of the Guild with Lamb, a 6' tall humanoid tumour, behind her. She needed steady employment, and she knew where to find it. The famous Dr. Hartwell, foreigner, doctor, revolutionary, and friend of the labouring masses, would surely hire her.

Side Note: Mary has an Int of 8. Lamb, her homunculus, has an Int of 10.

Tom was recovering from de-trollification surgery in Blumsworth Hospital. With a sharpened spoon, strong acid, a paintbrush, and opium, Dr. Hartwell cut away Tom's trollish eye, arm, and a chunk of his skull, then acidified his blood to prevent reinfection. Without Lizzy's guiding hand, her experimental troll centrifuge was deemed too dangerous. 

After surgery, Dr. Hartwell left Blumsworth Hospital to get some rest, while Doyle took over monitoring Tom's convalescence (and warding off Snedge-type assassins). As the good doctor walked through the hospital's gates, he was accosted by a tiny apprentice in rubberized alchemist robes and a gigantic nurse.

"Hello hello!" Mary said. "I am Mary Berger and this is Nurse Lamb."

"Ghuh," Lamb said, staring at Dr. Hartwell with watery makeup-caked eyes. Mary had done her best, but even a mask, cap, and robe couldn't disguise Lamb's unnatural nature. Lamb wasn't the weirdest thing walking the streets of Endon these days (thanks to the Leonine Cartel's ability to polymorph strange pets), but the towering figure was still noteworthy.

"Ah, hello," Dr. Hartwell said. "Wait. You're an alchemist." Doyle had been ranting about the Alchemists for days. He suspected they were up to something. 

On the third floor of the hospital, Doyle could see the conversation. "That's an alchemist," he muttered. "Stay here," he said to his heavily sedated friend, then walked to the window, opened it, and fell out. He activated his amulet of featherfall, opened his umbrella, and landed on his feet in the hospital's courtyard. He lit a cigarette and sauntered forward, ignoring the astonished bystanders.

 

The Alchemists are up to something," Mary explained. "The exploitation of the labouring masses!"

"Anything beside that?" Doyle asked. 

"Well, I wasn't very high up in the Guild. Apprentice 4th class. So I don't know all their secrets... or any of their secrets."

"And that... thing?" Doyle regarded Lamb with trepidation.

"This is Lamb, my very best friend. My parents told me to make friends at school, so I..."

"Yes, oh dear," Dr. Hartwell interrupted. "Well, I don't think she's a spy for the Alchemists," he said to Doyle. "They wouldn't be this obvious."

"Unless..." Doyle countered.

"But I'm not a spy!" Mary said indignantly. "I'm trained in alchemy. I can do all the fiddly glassware bits and get the flasks bubbling, no problem at all. And I'm also trained in basic field medicine, on account of all the explosions and burns. Please can I have a job?"

"You made that?" Dr. Hartwell said, pointing at Lamb. Lamb stared at the doctor's finger. "Very well, you are hired as an apprentice. Talk to Professor Earl about the rates. Don't touch anything without permission."

"Yes!" Mary said, punching the air.

General Brockton

Two weeks later, rumours that the Army (or some of it, at least) was returning from Foreign Parts to crush the Revolution sparked panic in Endon. The rumours were confirmed two days later when a proclamation from General Brockton was posted by monarchist loyalists on prominent street corners. 

The General informed Endon that he would restore Parliament, place a temporary Monarch on the throne until Harold II could be located, undo the excesses (unstated) of the Revolution, execute a few traitors, and generally return Endon to a nostalgic golden age of prosperity, peace, and good government.

He asked wizards to "respect their traditional role and not interfere in civil matters." This was a cunning political manoeuvre; wizards had, traditionally, kept out of politics. It gave hesitant wizards a way out of the dilemma they faced. They could simply let soldiers fight citizens, then join the winning side. If partisan wizards fought with full intensity, the results would be catastrophic; there wouldn't be an Endon to conqueror.

The PCs called a meeting at the Iron Spike. Tom, still in bed and wrapped in bandages, spent the conference leafing through a catalogue of prosthetic arms.

"Option one," Doyle said. "We help the Army."

"Vetoed," Dr. Hartwell said. Tom grunted in agreement. 

"Option two," Doyle said. "We stay out of it. Let Benjamin Fits and the other revolutionaries fight the Army."

"Result: massacre," Dr. Hartwell added.

"If the army wins, we'll be fine... probably. If the revolution wins, we'll be traitors," Doyle continued. "Option three, we help the revolution. Result..."

"I think I could blast an army," Tom said. "Run the lightning accumulator in reverse, or throw a magic battery at them, or maybe summon a series of iron golems..."

"Result: massacre," Dr. Hartwell said again.

"But of the wrong side!" Tom said plaintively.

"Do you think the average soldier in Endon's army has the vaguest idea of the political aims of the Revolution? They are just annoyed they haven't been paid. And once you and every other wizard in Endon has blasted the army into smithereens, who will defend Endon?"

"What does the Army do, anyway? I didn't think we were at war?" Tom said.

"The Army protects Endon's interests. In particular, the eight and a half percent minimum interest we charge on loans. They help maintain the balance of trade, open new markets, and defend the rights of commerce," Jonty said, from the other side of the room.

"Well that's fine then," Tom said naively. Dr. Hartwell tried not to snap at him.

"In any case," Jonty said, "we have a fourth option. We tell the Army to go away."

"Go away or we'll blast ya!" Tom said. "Bang, zap, boom!"

"No, we tell them to go away in an official letter signed by the Minister of War," Jonty said patiently.

"But the Minister of War exploded with Parliament."

"We'll elect a new one. Show the Army that the Revolution is not a disorganized group of bickering wizards, opportunistic plutocrats, pamphlet-addled revolutionaries, drunkards, and thieves, but a legitimate government. Please hold your comments for the time being, Doyle."

"But the General says he's going to attack in two days. Do we have time to have an election?," Tom asked.

"We do," Jonty said confidently. "I'll propose it at the Royal Palace immediately. Doyle and Dr. Hartwell, come with me. Tom, you should stay in bed.

A Snap Election

The old Royal Palace had become a meeting hall for the Revolution, neutral ground where anyone with a loud voice and a strong opinion could be heard. The building smelled of sawdust and sweat, as unpainted wood panels divided stately chambers into workrooms, barracks, and meeting halls. Benjamin Fits and some of the other dedicated revolutionaries lived in the palace full-time. 

At Jonty's subtle urging, the second Constitutional Congress met that night and, with input from various groups, adjusted Endon's draft constitution, the Magna Costermonger, to a final and controversial form. Some issues required hours of furious debate; others were slipped into drafts and quietly accepted without anyone noticing. Single women got the vote. Married women didn't. Instead, married men got two votes. Nobody is happy with this, and the demographic and social consequences will be immense, but it's currently the law.

Doyle requested that "affordable speech" be changed to "cheap speech." He was aware that Endon's merchants and landlords considered "affordable" to be "exactly what the market will bear and then a little bit more", and also recognized that Endon's press treated facts like exotic curiosities.

The unwieldy 512 elected representatives of the original draft were reduced to 64, creating a Parliament that was far cozier and, coincidentally, easier to control."Getting 33 votes is far easier than two hundred and fif... sixt..." Tom said later, trailing off as his powers of mental arithmetic failed.

Tom, via Jonty, tried to get the "regulate the use of magic" clause struck out, but failed to convince enough delegates. "Wizards can police themselves!" he said. "Why should Parliament get to decide what constitutes 'harm to another person'?"

Loxdon College refused to be included in any district map. Eligible students can still vote if they reside off-campus.  

Other powerful wizards district around their main workshop or residence. Smacks of magical corporate feudalism, or Magiocracy-by-Proxy, to Dr. Hartwell. Instead of Members representing districts, they instead represent the major business in that district. Unless truly revolutionary or otherwise affiliated.

Parties and factions go against the spirit of the Revolution. Everyone is, in theory, united in a common cause. Parties are a symptom of a decadent and paralyzed oligarchy. 

The parties Endon does not have include:

The Iron Spike Party. With their slogan "Workers and Wizards", their symbol of the crossed wand and hammer (or a big beefy arm clutching a robed skinny arm), the Iron Spike Party is Tom's creation. Social programs include an ambitious rent-and-partially-construct-to-own housing scheme, urban beautification, and magic put into the service of ordinary people. There's more than a touch of Tower Madness in Tom's proposals

Benjamin Fits and the Mechanics Societies. The organized core of the Revolution, still reeling from its success. With their main goal accomplished (in theory), the subfactions within the working-class core of the Revolution are starting to bicker, splinter, and plot.

The Guild of Alchemists. Their candidates ran independently, or with the appearance of independence, but share alchemical leanings, training, or financing. A reservoir of anti-wizard sentiment. Doyle suspected the Alchemists were a major power behind the Revolution; the Oil of Azide that destroyed Parliament didn't fall off the back of a milk cart.

The Leonine Cartel. The polymorphers, producers of whale oil, cheap steaks by the cartload, and rare delicacies for anyone who can afford their prices. A nervous alliance of old capital and experimental wizardry, the Leonine Cartel has few proactive policies, but wants to avoid further instability in Endon. Free food is a powerful draw for the newly enfranchised or unemployed.  

George Miles, inventor of the flying Mira, seemed to lack the charisma and focus to meddle in city-wide politics, but ran a few candidates for the districts around his workshops and factories, and seemed to be on good terms with most wizards.

Earnest Perrin, a leader in teleportation magic, was far more active. His slowly expanding network of stone teleportation circles, and his well-funded legion of excavators, surveyors, and real estate agents, gave him a solid political base. His views tended towards direct Magiocracy, foreign trade, and an "obedient" police force. Paradoxically, despite being arguably the only wizard in Endon whose ambitions rivalled Tom Shambledrake's, Perrin was a major customer of Iron Spike Thaumaturgy. His teleportation circles drained magic batteries at a ferocious rate.

Snedge. Running in the wealthy [area]. Old money, but the subtle kind. His policies appeal to both the wealthy and the merely affluent, while containing a mix of patriotism, revolutionary rhetoric, and good old-fashioned flattery that could easily carry him (horror of horrors!) into the New Parliament.

Wizards can vote, but cannot be elected to Parliament. Wizards do not de-escalate well. There's always a risk of a heated debate turning into a superheated debate, an expanding cloud of plasma, and mass casualties.

Dr. Hartwell is a wizard and a doctor. He argued that Doctor trumps Wizard (and both trump Foreigner), an argument that Endon silently accepted (or failed to hear). No real Wizard would ever call themselves anything but a Wizard. Under the banner of the Iron Spike Party, but with one foot in the caucus of the Leonine Cartel, he ran for a seat in the New Parliament with the explicit goal of creating and leading a novel Ministry of Health. Nobody else seemed to want the job. Dr. Hartwell recognized that some basic improvements, such as a sewer system, water treatment, a diet that included more vegetables, and not dumping magical waste over the fence and into the nearest alley, could significantly improve the quality of life for most Endoners.

Alan Dard had risen from gambler to mobster, from mobster to real estate investor, and from real estate investor to slightly shady Public Citizen of Means. He lamented, from his sumptuous and well-funded campaign office, that most of his time was spent doing paperwork. He was so corrupt that he'd accidentally stumbled into legitimate politics. He loved the Iron Spike Party like a dog loves lunch, and worked tirelessly among the people of Needle Circus.

Alexey Egorov

The Night Before The Election

Thanks to the finest and most expensive magical healing in Endon, Tom felt great. His new prosthetic arm, made of polished steel and bright ceramic, worked almost as well as his old one. It could transform into a sword, a shield, or a three-slot wand holster. His new eye, a perfect tourmaline crystal, should allow him to see invisible creatures and illusions.

Sure, he'd lost some of his conventional good looks, but his unconventional good looks were off the chart. With one tourmaline eye and one fire eye, with a magnificent hat and embroidered robes, and the confidence of owing the tallest tower in history, Tom felt invincible. He decided to investigate the reports of the a glowing light in the Great Crater at night.

"I'm going to investigate those reports of lights in the Great Crater," Tom said one evening. "There has to be a reason tours close at night."

On his twin brother's broomstick, Tom corkscrewed through the dark skies of Endon, heading for the earthen cone of the Great Crater, the former site of Parliament. Doyle, Dr. Hartwell, Mary, and Lamb waited in a cab on the edge of the crater.

Tom cast invisibility, then descended into the crater. The soft golden glow around the central spire resolved itself into the fuzzy outline of a dragon, a glowing sketch of the exploded Balchezazar the Azure. It raised an incandescent head and stared at Tom with unmistakeable malice. Shambledrake, it said, speaking directly to his mind.

Oh bugger, Tom thought, and swung his broomstick upwards. 

From the ground, Tom was invisible, and the dragon-wraith pursuing him was just a suggestion of lights and fog. Parts of it flashed into visibility whenever it collided with a building or flared its wings to make a tight turn.

"Follow that... glowing thing," Doyle said to the cabby.

In a panic, Tom decided to head for Loxdon College. After the last dragon attack on Endon (just before Parliament exploded), the College had invested considerable energy in fortifying its ancient boundaries. If those wards couldn't stop a ghost dragon, Tom didn't know anything that could.

A few inches off the pavement, Tom passed through the wards with a faint flare of magic as his invisibility spell failed. The magic keeping his broomstick in the air also seemed to falter, sending him tumbling onto the pavement. The dragon, ethereal jaws snappng, pursued, slammed into the wards, and stopped. It coiled its body, dug its claws into the invisible barrier, and started to pry the wards apart. Octaire fire burst into the night sky, illuminating the dragon, Tom, and the speeding cab.

The dragon lunged forwards, teeth burning, and caught Tom in its jaws. The wounds were both physical and spiritual. Tom seemed to age before the group's eyes. His youthful chin sprouted a grey beard, his skin wrinkled, and his back bent under the weight of unnatural years and sapped vitality.

"Hit it with everything you've got," Doyle said, leaping from the cab and pulling out his wand of scorching ray. Dr. Hartwell fired off wave of mutilation, while Mary and Lamb, lacking magic of any sort, ran forward to try and help Tom.

Tom, in a panic, called out for Uriah Shambledrake Junior, using his full and enchanted name in the hopes it would summon his time-cloned twin brother. It worked, and a moment later Uriah stepped through a nearby door using his triple doorway spell. 

Doyle cast knock on the dragon, forcing it to vomit up the contents of its ethereal stomach, which included bits of Tom's soul. Tom de-aged as the torrent of ectoplasm washed over him... and over his soul-twin Uriah. Though Tom found the effect unnervingly revitalizing, Uriah seemed to be in agony, as his soul experienced an unprecedented crisis.

Instead of helping Tom, Mary scooped ectoplasm, wizard blood, and the groundwater of Loxdon College into a syringe, then injected it into Lamb. "Get it!" she said, pointing at the looming dragon. Lamb's body twitched and convulsed. Its jaw opening wider and wider as the homunculus dug its hands and feet into the ground. A moment later, it belched a column of coruscating blue-white flame into the dragon's face.

"Good job Lamb!" Mary said, as the rest of the party stared in horror.

The ethereal dragon roared, aimed, and breathed a wave of white fog towards Lamb. Uriah quickly cast wall of force behind the Homunculus, protecting himself, Tom, and Mary but leaving the unnatural creature exposed. Lamb was smeared over the street.

"There should have been more bones," Doyle said, trying to keep his lunch down. "A thing like that should've had bones in it."

"Keep blasting," Dr. Hartwell said as he dug through his bag for another wand.

"I'm out of spells," Doyle replied. "I don't think weapons will work on this thing."

"Hit it with your magic sword then," Dr. Hartwell said, irritated.

"The magic sword you said came from a vampire in a floating evil castle? No thanks," Doyle said. He'd secretly had the sword's enchantments examined, and while the "decaptiation" one was appealing, the "trap and revive the corpses of those you slay" spell worried him.

"I'll get it," Tom said feebly. He sat up, cast lighting bolt,  and fell over. The blast illuminated the College and, as far as anyone could tell, scattered the remains of the etheral dragon.

"What the hell was that," Uriah said.

"What?!" Mary replied, as she tried to scoop Lamb's remains into a large pile.

"Damnation, we're all deaf. Good work Tom," Uriah said. "You, detective. Help me drag my idiot brother through the portal."

Dr. Hartwell cast fix flesh on Lamb's remains, returning the homunculus to life... or something close to it. Mary was overjoyed.  

"At least we avoided the press," Doyle said, as he took one last look across Loxdon College. 

What new surprises would election day bring? Can a dragon ever truly die? What are the Alchemists planning? What does Uriah Shambledrake Jr. really want? 

Find out next time.

OSR: The Mystery of Uriah Shambledrake Session 21 & 22 - A Castle in the Air

In the previous installment, the PCs:

• Exploded a photograph.
  
• Experienced horrible sobriety.
  
• Participated in Endon's first ever car crash.

The PCs are:

Tom Shambledrake
Electric Wizard and heir to the bankrupt Shambledrake estate. Inventor of the Lightning Accumulator, the Lightning Inverter, and the Iron Spike. Currently afflicted with a troll arm and eye thanks to emergency trollblood healing.

Jonty Earl
Dandy. Assistant Professor at Loxdon College. Deeply enmeshed in stock-jobbery and financial chicanery.

Dr. Augustus Hartwell
Biomancer. A foreign doctor and self-described "quack", currently employed at Blumsworth Hospital. Ally of speaking rats, workers, and other vermin.

Lizzy Ramchander
Potion Wizard, former cook, former brewer, and current secretary to Doyle Wormsby. Can duplicate herself. Currently part troll as well.

Doyle Wormsby
Civic Wizard, Private Investigator. Broke his arm in Endon's first automobile accident.

 

Conor Nolan

Tom rushed off to visit George Miles, creator of the flying Mira, and member of the defunct Amateur Aeronautics Society. Miles, terrified by Tom's appearance and vague threats, told him all he knew. It wasn't much. The Society was a club of ambitious wizards. At the dawn of the Magical Indstrial Revolution, they'd seen a future for systematized magic beyond textiles and waterwheels. 

Though intially united by a vision of a utopian magical future, the Society splintered immediately. Miles suspected the Shambledrakes were merely using the Society for their own unstated ends. He didn't know what Tom was, exactly, but knew that the three Shambledrakes had used some sort of time magic in the Society's last tumultuous days.

Edward Konivov and Professort Tallerand left to create The Project. Miles remained noncomittal. His goal was flight and reaching the moon, not immortality, but he appreciated The Project's goals... if not their methods.

Lord Tarrigan-on-Burl had provided most of the funding. He was the mysterious figure who'd vanished from the thaumograph. Miles hinted at some form of truce. Lord T-on-B was opposed to The Project and their goal of universal immortality through time travel and memory extraction. Miles hinted that Lord T-on-B was no longer entirely human. He was the Society's first attempt at world-changing magic... and the experiment, whatever it was, worked too well. The truce let the Project pursue their goals, with only mild interference, because Lord T-on-B expected The Project to fail.

Tom, by investigating the thaumograph and targeting Lord T-on-B's origins, had activated some sort of defensive countermeasures. The truce was over. 

"What sort of countermeasures?" Tom asked, as a seven-foot-tall steel golem on a column of flame smashed through the window of Miles' office.

After an eventful chase and some hasty spellcasting, the two wizards managed to dispatch the fire-filled golem while piloting a Mira over Endon's streets. The damage the golem managed to inflict resulted in Endon's second ever car crash, on the same day as the first.

"Some sort of fire elemental in a suit, like a Gel Knight but on fire," was Lizzy's professional assessment. Tom, scorched, battered, and windblown, was not comforted.

After retrieving three amulets of featherfall from George Miles and calling him a cab, Tom set off for Loxdon College. The eclipse had thrown the faculty into a state of almost frenzied apathy. Leading theories included "cloud moths", "a new moon or minor planet", and "an optical illusion", but the leading theory was that the eclipse was a thaumic lens. A precursor to the magic accumulator, a thaumic lens was a spell that focused raw magic from sunlight into a condensed and useful form. Most were the size of tea saucers and similarly fragile. A lens thing large could accumulate a megathaum an hour, or more, and Tom thought he knew where all that magic was going.

The iron sarcophagus he'd created to trap the body and soul of his twin, Uriah Shambledrake Junior, was a perfect magic barrier. Nothing could get in or out... in theory. But if Uriah Shambledrake Jr. had cast a titanic thaumic lens before fighting Tom, the lens could still be dumping magic into him. Gentle repose and the sarcophagus kept Uriah Shambledrake Jr.'s soul tethered to his body, so any spells he cast in life might still be working.The sarcophagus could contain several megathaums of raw magic, enough to turn most of Endon into a smoking crater.

Tom asked Professor Bazzard, a specialist in abjuration, to come to the Iron Spike and consult on the problem. Prof. Bazzard agreed, but was unable to determine what was happening inside the structure. She suggested Tom move the whole thing outside the city as fast as possible, but that teleportation magic would be a bad idea. While Jonty rounded up every geomancer and elementalist he could find, Tom, Lizzy, and Dr. Hartwell prepared for a high-altitude excursion. Doyle declined, pointing out that his arm was still broken.

If they couldn't defuse the bomb, they could at least prevent it from getting stronger, and bring some peace of mind to Endon's citizens at the same time. Chastity Flintwich had modified the group's remaining Mira, as part of a plan to escape Endon with her loot and back pay before the explosion. She reluctantly agreed to turn the vehicle over to Tom, but quit the Iron Spike company, bought a fast horse, and left town.

Chastity had modified the Mira with a sphere of gravity snail shells. By rapidly spinning the sphere, the direction of local gravity could be changed from "down" to "forwards". Properly aimed, the Mira could "fall" forward, or nose-first into the sky. Tom, Dr. Hartwell, and Lizzy launched themselves at the eclipse, stopping only to retrieve Uriah Shambledrake Jr.'s broomstick.

The faculty of Loxdon College estimated the disc of the eclipse was "somewhere in the upper air" and could be destroyed by "a solid blow or strong magic." Bundled in warm clothes, the three wizards fell upwards. At the last possible moment, Tom realized the eclipse wasn't a thin disc of magic, but a solid stone structure, hanging impossibly in the air. He pulled Chastity's emergency brake, which spun the gravity snail shell device even faster, and converted it into what wizards call a "gravity oops" and causing the third Mira accident of the day. The imploding singularity spun the Mira around and sheared the bottom off the vehicle, including the soles of Dr. Hartwell's boots. The three wizards bailed out of the vehicle, clinging to the broomstick like deranged sloths, before landing in a shadowy stone courtyard.

The Order: 1886 concept art

The eclipse wasn't caused by a thaumic disc. It was caused by a gigantic gothic castle floating in the air, with its own gravity, currently at around 90 degrees to the world below. Skulls, bats, hooded statues, and other morbid decorations covered every available surface, in defiance of logic and taste. 

Tom assumed the castle was the lair of his twin brother Uriah, pulled into this reality or perhaps created from scratch; an inverted tower to match the Iron Spike. Tom assumed he could pass for Uriah in dim light, and set off to explore "his" castle.

Behind a pair of stone doors, inside a great hall, Tom discovered six animated skeletons in servant livery setting a table. They beckoned the group inside. Tom introduced himself as Uriah, said that Dr. Hartwell and Lizzy were his guests, but did not sit at the table. Lizzy opened a cloche to discover her own severed head on a platter. The illusion screamed at her. Lizzy screamed back, slammed the cloche shut... then stuffed the whole thing in her handbag. 

"Take me to the Inner Sanctum," Tom commanded, and a liveried skeleton dutifully lead the party up a flight of stairs and into a shadowy study. Huge windows gave them a view of Endon's distant lights from above. A claw-footed stone desk and a high-backed chair faced the windows. Lizzy flicked back the drapes to bring a bit more light into the room, turned to see what was in the chair, screamed, stumbled, and fell through the window.

Tom leapt onto the broomstick, charged through the falling glass, snagged Lizzy by the coat, hauled her onto the stick, managed to aim back towards the window, and crashed into the room, all without pausing for breath. Dr. Hartwell tore down a curtain to try and cushion the impact. It didn't help.

"What was that!?" Tom asked, trying to unbend the point of his wizard hat.

"There's a man in that chair!" Lizzy said, pointing. 

The other two wizards slowly turned. There was indeed a man in the chair, rising slowly and graciously to greet his guests, despite their window-breaking and curtain-shredding shenanagins.

"Good evening," the figure said, bowing slighly. "Welcome to my castle."

Tom suddenly realized that this was not Uriah Shambledake Jr.'s castle. The figure resembled the mysterious disappearing figure in the thaumograph of the Amateur Aeronautics Society, the ellusive Lord Tarrigan-on-Burl, the group's nemesis from the very beginning.

"Fangs," Lizzy whispered to Dr. Hartwell, holding up two fingers in front of her canines. "Oily hair. Evening dress. Evil castle."

"I was expecting the other Shambledrake," Lord Tarrrigan-on-Burl continued, "but you will suffice." He drew a glowing green sword and swung it at Tom's neck.

Lizzy cast grease before the vampire's swing reached its apex. The sword slipped from his hands and sailed out the window.

From the Iron Spike, Doyle spotted the green flash on the eclipse, and the subsequent sparkling green comet. He decided to investigate on the ground, eventually locating and retrieving the sword.

Meanwhile, in the castle, Tom, Dr. Hartwell, Lizzy, and the vampire all watched the sword receed into the distance for a beat, then started fighting properly. Tom attacked with Uriah Shambledrake Jr's axe of black glass. Dr. Hartwell threw his lantern at the vampire, setting it on fire, and then covered the dapper undead in a curtain.

"You would use fire against me?" Lord T-on-B said, flinging the burning curtain aside and casting summon fire elemental. Lizzy cast cone of dense foam, soaking everything, including the rising flames, in a cloud of beer-scented liquid. 

The resulting confusion gave Tom enough time to retreat, dig out his spellbook, and cast light, dumping enough magic into it to ensure the spell had all the properties of natural sunlight. The vampire screamed, sizzled, and collapsed into ash. Lizzy prodded the remains with her foot. "Ooh look, a fang!" she said, and put it in a sealed vial.

"Do you hear that?" Dr. Hartwell asked. "I think this castle is collapsing."

"Must have been a load-bearing vampire," Lizzy said.

"All these books are fake!" Tom cried from the other side of the room. "They're just props! There's no forbidden lore here."

With a prop book stuffed in his pocket, Tom remounted his broomstick, helped the other two wizards clamber aboard, and flew out the window, aiming for the Iron Spike and safety. The castle crumbled and faded behind them, revealing, briefly, a complex magical instrument the size of a cottage, which also vanished in the light of the newly revealed sun.

"Could that have been a light-to-stone engine? Similar to the lightning inverter, perhaps, but instead of lighting to magic, magic to stone? Ingenious!" Tom said, squinting over his shoulder.

"Less talking more steering!" Dr. Hartwell cried.

Once on the ground, the group immediately started to move the iron sarcophagus out of the city. According to Prof. Bazzard, whatever magic was happening inside it was still happening, eclipse or no eclipse. The group's hired elementalists cast control earth under the sarcophagus, and, with a great wailing and gnashing of teeth from the residents who lived along the route, sent it out of the city on a tidal wave of soil and stone. The PCs followed behind in a hired carraige. 

Half a mile from Endon's newest suburb, the sarcophagus started to smoke and crackle. "Bury it!" Tom yelled, pointing down, and the elementalists dutifully tried to sink the strucutre into the earth.

The sarcophagus disintegrated in a burst of light and sizzling droplets of iron. A pair of draconic wings of golden light emerged from the wreck, carrying Uriah Shambledrake Junior upwards. He was alive and, even at a distance, visibly furious. "Finally free!" he roared.

Tom sighed, hopped on the broomstick, and flew closer. "Hello," he said politely. "Look, this is all a bit silly can we talk?"

"Talk?! Pah! You trapped me in this fiendish device! Do you know how difficult it was to return to life?" 

"I didn't know you could return to life!" Tom said. "How did you manage it?"

"How did you manage to end the eclipse?" Uriah replied.

"Oh, that? Went up, fought a vampire, blew up a castle," Tom said.

"You... fought Lord Tarrigan-on-Burl? And won?" Uriah said, shocked.

"I am a very powerful wizard, you know," Tom said. 

"You shouldn't be. By all rights, you shouldn't be."

"What do you know about my, err, our origin? Because I am very confused, and a bit worried, and things are clearly spiralling out of control. Now we should either fight this out," Tom bluffed, as he had no spells remaining, "or establish a truce. I vote for a truce."

In the distance, Lizzy shouted that she also voted for a truce.

Uriah sighed, climbed down the heap of stone and rust flakes, and accepted. "But I want my axe back," he said.

"The axe... will be discussed soon," Tom said, clutching the weapon protectively. Wizards rarely give up magic items willingly.

 

Yuri Hill

Over a very tense and unusual dinner, Uriah Shambledrake Jr. revealed that he and Tom were, as suspected, time clones. Since time immemorial, the Shambledrake family owed fealty to The Shambledrake, a diseased or misbegotten dragon that lurked beneath Shambledrake Manor. It claimed the firstborn child of each generation as its champion and mouthpiece. Uncle Uriah was one, and so, currently is Uriah Shambledrake Junior.

Tom's parents did not want to give up their only child, and used Edward Konivov's time magic and an eighfold mirror to create two children, and raised them on opposite sides of a mirror. When The Shambledrake realized it had been duped, it arranged for an accident to claim Tom's parents on both sides of the mirror, the famous hot air balloon disaster that initiated Tom's fascination with lightning. Konivov's time magic allowed both parents to spend a bit of time with their children, but could not avert their fate.

But before that, filled with zeal and ambition, the Society had tried to circumvent the limitations of the human body. Magic is taxing; spells that could be attempted, in theory, will, in practice, explode a wizard's soul or shred their flesh. But a creature that is already dead, a soul empowering a corpse, can avoid some of the side-effects. The Society attempted to "perfect" vampirism, usign an ancestor of Lord Tarrigan-on-Burl kept in the family vault as a test subject. This was blatant necromancy, but, according to Uriah Shambledrake Junior, they hoped to turn Lord T-on-B into a living vampire, or something even stranger. He wasn't sure if the experiment was a success or not, but in any case, Lord T-on-B was a potent foe.

"Time wizards, dragon wizards, death wizards," Dr. Hartwelll said, "Fucking around and finding out." It was an apt summary of the Amateur Aeronautics Society.

"So the vampire in that castle wasn't the real Lord T-on-B, but his distant ancestor?" Lizzy asked.

"Possibly. You destroyed it, correct?"

"Yup!" Lizzy said.

"And you tracked it to its coffin, staked it in the heart, and cut off its head, preventing it from rising again?"

"Y... maybe," Lizzy said. Dr. Hartwell sighed. "Oh wait," she said. "We have his fang! We can use that to track him. It's been rattling inside this vial for the last hour. I bet it wants to join up with the rest of him. I can make a vampire compass!"

"That is a distressing thought, but yes, please do," Tom said. "In the morning, we'll hunt a vampire."

"When I said to pack stakes, Lizzy, I meant the wooden ones, not..."

"Oh I know," Lizzy said, opening the second compartment of the picnic hamper. "But I thought to myself, 'Steak sandwiches would make this expedition much more fun.'" 

"This is a vampire hunt," Uriah said humourlessly, "not a picnic."

"It can be both."

Jonty took one look at the vampire fang compass and suddenly remembered he had an urgent appointment elsewhere in the city. The clattering fang lead the rest of the PCs to Old Endon Cemetery. The warden took one look at the group's assorted weapons, shovels, lanterns, mallets, stakes, and silverware (as they hadn't had time to locate proper silver weapons) and refused to let them enter.

Tom correctly pointed out that Dread Necromancy was afoot, and that as a distinguished wizard of Endon, it was his duty to destroy it. He also provided a generous donation to the upkeep fund. Shovels in hand, the group approached the mausoleum of the Tarrigan-on-Burl family. Doyle cast knock to smash the iron gate open and the group piled down the stairs and into the small stone room. Four lacqured coffins, their copper labels corroded beyond legibility, rested in alcoves in the walls.

"I bet if we pull this wall sconce a secret door will open," Lizzy said.

"That sort of thing only happens in penny dreadfuls," Doyle said dismissively, but Lizzy pulled the sconce anyway and a secret door dutifully creaked open. 

"I think this vampire reads penny dreadfuls," she said. 

Inside the secret room, a suitably gothic coffin stood alone in a small room. The group gathered around it, miming their actions and nodding in silence. Tom pushed the stone lid off the casket, revealing an awake, alert, and very murderous vampire. As the lid crashed to the floor, the iron door to the mausoleum began to rattle and flow, slowly sealing the only exit. All four of the other coffins started to rattle. And the entire structure began, slowly, to sink into the earth.

The next few minutes were filled with confusion, spellcasting, and terror. While Uriah fought the vampire with the axe Tom had generously returned to him, the other wizards fought the creatures that emerged from the coffins. They were hideous necromantic creations, wire-bound ghouls with ticking clockwork hearts, and their grasp not only paralyzed victims but seemed to drain their vitality. In the cramped mausoleum, Tom couldn't deploy his lightning spells, Lizzy couldn't use cloudkill, and Doyle couldn't use his drain-cleaning Thomas Gun.

While Dr. Hartwell's wave of mutilation spell, Doyle's dueling pistol, and Tom's rubberize spell helped a bit, Lizzy was badly wounded by a ghoul before the last monster was slain. Uriah sawed off the vampire's head, noticed a strange crystal object embedded in its neck, and began messily disassembling its head.

"Priorities!" Tom said angrily. "We're sinking!"

Uriah sighed and cast triple doorway, binding the secret door to a workshop door in the Iron Spike. "Run!" he said. Dr. Hartwell dragged Lizzy through.

 "We'll cast gentle repose," Tom said, examing Lizzy's body. "We've gone back in time to save her once. I guess we'll do it again. Or maybe we can use a golem body to..."

"No," Dr. Hartwell said. "No more necromancy. Lizzy is dead and she is going to stay dead."

Doyle took off his hat. "I agree. I don't like it, but necromancy is what started this mess. We have to do better. And I don't mean come up with a magical solution that's not technically necromancy," he continued, catching the glint in Tom's mismatched eyes.

"The Project will save her," Uriah Shambledrake Jr. said, though with a hint of doubt. "Paradise cannot be reserved for the elect. It must be for everyone."

"At least she died fighting our nemesis," Tom said. "And with Lord Tarrigan-on-Burl dead..."

"Is he though?" Doyle said.

"Stake, decapitation..."

"But was that vampire the real Lord Tarrigan-on-Burl? I think Lizzy was right. This felt theatrical. A distraction, a stage show, or what?"

"I'm sure we'll find out," Tom said bitterly.

 

Who, or what, is Lord Tarrigan-on-Burl? Is Uriah Shambledrake Junior a trustworthy ally? What is a Shambledrake? Who is really behind the Revolution? And, after all this time, who killed Uriah Shambledrake Sr?