Snakes on a Frame

Act VII -- Session 1
Jan 25th, 2024
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The following message is delivered via intermediary. The paper burns after being read by the first member of the Nameless with the ability to convey its contents to others.

To whom it may concern:

I write representing the broader Seventh Tower Consortium to register our shock and dismay at the untoward actions of our former CEO, Joseph Woodward. The board has unanimously voted to oust Mr. Woodward and will be taking steps to repair our good name within Duskvol, the Empire, and the grace of the Immortal Emperor (long may He reign).

In earnest of our sincere sorrow and desire to mend the fences callously destroyed by our unstable ex-CEO, we would like to engage your services in a private investigation to thoroughly reveal every unseemly action taken by Joseph Woodward and his gang of cronies within Duskwall. Leave no stone unturned in revealing his crimes.

It is our sincere hope that a thorough investigation undertaken by leaders of the community such as yourselves will reveal the fullness of the rot, and thus allow the beginning of our long road to recovering trust with the fine people of Duskwall.

Yours respectfully,
Yolanda Augury

Reading between the lines: this is a peace offering from the broader Seventh Tower Consortium. By hook or by crook, unearth (or create) a full log of the crimes of Joseph Woodward (aka the Man in the Hat) so that they can throw him under the bus. They will pay you 12 Coin and, under pretense of working to restore their good name, leave Duskwall alone.

Session Recap

The Nameless have successfully framed Joseph Woodward aka the Man in the Hat for . . . the MURDER of BREAKER!

This was accomplished by planting an “If I Did It”-style journal (immaculately forged, thanks to a group crit), map to the stone prison beneath the waves, and invoices to a fake shell company that supposedly produced large-scale electroplasmic weapons if you look at their records, which you really should because they definitely exist. Police attention was brought to this whole shenanigan setup, and future investigations will find corroborating evidence (or SUSPICIOUS LACK THEREOF) in evidence lockup, which was ABSOLUTELY NOT TAMPERED WITH.

Books’s police lockup tampering was hindered/enabled/hindered again by a rogue Blighter attack. Blighters have been pulling some low-rent supervillain shit across Duskwall for the past few days. Lotta cop bodies hit the floor (and were then reanimated with 15-foot demonic snakes) on this one, but that’s NOT YOUR FAULT.

Sandro was briefly contacted by the disembodied semi-spirit of Seventh Tower Corporation, which proclaimed itself “a body without a head” and is apparently searching for a new leader. At another point, Joseph Woodward numbly proclaimed himself “a decapitated head”. This arcane chicanery was apparently enabled by some strange arcane . . . documents? that Sandro discovered and then promptly stashed at Deckherd Hall mid-heist.

Sizzle discovered that Studebaker Spud had a secret armory of (quality) guns and a weirdly horny black-and-red armored body suit in a secret compartment behind his office wall. She took the guns, but left the body suit.

Likely consequences:

  1. Studebaker Spud is probably going away for a minute.

  2. Nat Marseilles’ investigatory efforts towards y’all will be misdirected by this compelling new tack.

  3. This was not a one-and-done: Joseph Woodward is now considered to be the tip of an iceberg by the investigating Inspectors.

Books’s Safety Tip: Even white-collar jobs aren’t immune to the occasional super-science-motivated body-cannibalizing Serpentes attack, so don’t forget a spritz of your lucibufagin-laced perfume to both deter reptiles & impress your coworkers.

Downtime

Books

Sizzle

Project Clock (x3): research Woodward’s connection to the ghost field (2 downtime actions + 1 Coin)

Arkin

New Priorities

This was supposed to be simple. A bullet to the chest, fair payment for her mother’s life and her own lost childhood. But the bullet didn’t take, and now everything was more complicated than it had any right being.

She leaned against the frame of the open vault door, hawk on her shoulder, looking down at Woodward. Rumpled finery, unfocused gaze, muttering under his breath.

She had won, hadn’t she? He’d been cut off from everything he worked to build, reduced to a shell of a man, his debt finally paid in full. Yet… nothing about this felt like a victory. No pride, no satisfaction, no sense of accomplishment. Only a deep, aching loss.

Unprompted, Melver’s words echoed in her head. “Four parts business…“

Abruptly, she stood and disappeared from the doorframe, only to appear a moment later holding the cushioned armchair that had been sitting by the door. She set the chair down next to Woodward, then picked up the fur coat piled on the seat, the copy of Munitions Monthly dropping unceremoniously to the floor.

“One part ghost glue…“

It was easy enough to get him in the chair. He didn’t fight, didn’t protest, and he was lighter than he had been a week ago. She cut the cord binding his wrists, covering him with the coat before settling down cross-legged on the floor. Velvet dropped to perch on her knee as she leaned back against the wall.

She took a deep breath.

“… One part Joe.”

“Hey, dad.”

“I–
“… it’s Rosie.”

“I just–
“I guess–
“um, if you’re still in there somewhere…”

“I… wanna tell you about me. About where I’ve been, who I am. What–
“– what I’ve done.”

[ Sizzle’s vice is now FAMILY QUALITY TIME. ]