Butters

The Doctors Journal The small raft was rowed across the dark still waters of the great lake its passage barely leaving a ripple on the oddly thick water "I've seen lakes like this before in Holland" Wilhelm distractedly tells the others "It's something to do with the water flowing through peat" he pauses and looks around somewhat worriedly "But nothing like this" The Italian nodded whilst the rest just looked around trying to make sense of what they were seeing, almost between blinks the landscape seemed to shift and blur distance and time no longer seemed to be a quantifiable thing. The only sound was the muted roar coming from the huge waterfall from which the river on the plateau poured down into the valley and into it's the lak below. The CL.U.Ber's were still trying to come to terms with the shifting time and landscape but after some praying and discussion they pressed on as after all what choice did they really have. Somehow the sunken remains of the cursed city seemed to stay constant amongst the surrounding madness and they found that if they just concentrated on that the sickness and nausea would fade. The natives were jittery and Father Goodchild even though he was struggling to cope with the strange environmental effects still tried his best to keep them calm, the only person on the raft who seemed unaffected was Prince Unjay he merely remained seated at the back of the raft his Macuahuitl resting across his crossed legs. "We are nearly there thank the Lord," the Doctor says spitting out some bile but as if in some cruel jest the dark waters around the raft begin to boil and the raft is suddendly in danger of being swamped by the waves now smacking into and over it. The crew cry out and look around trying to find the cause of these sudden choppy waters. Cuthbert and Goodchild call out for calm as the panicked movements of the natives and the CL.U.Ber's were in danger of sinking the raft. The waters seemed to calm down as quickly as they had become agitated and everyone began to breathe a sigh of relief especially as they had almost made it to the cities walls which broke through the water like some kind of obscene teeth. Giulio laughed and turned to the Doctor and the Translator who manned the crude oars "Nearly there, throw your backs into it I miei figli" he smiled and was just about to pick up his heavy pack as suddenly a thick black tentacle burst through the water nearby, glistening blackly as water poured down from its fleshy thickness. The tentacle was muscular and one side was covered in pale pink suckers which pulsed with sickening eagerness as it tried to latch onto the now screaming Italian. The raft violently rocked back and forth as pandemonium broke out on board as everyone reacted to the now numerous tentacles which engulfed the raft, men cried out and orders were barked and the sinister sound of metal sliding past sheaths and hammers being pulled back added to the sudden air of menace. Giulio was slashing wildly with his telescopic glaive, slashing at the tentacles which were trying to wrap around him. The others were shocked but before they could help the Italian they too were having to fend off tentacles themselves, the Doctor continued desperately to row as a tentacle breached the lake's surface near him and started to sway towards him, he tried to back away whilst still trying to get to the safety of the cities walls he was surprised to see that whilst the tentacle grabbed at his arm it seemed to quickly lose interest in him and instead it slithered back into the water. The Doctors relief is short-lived though as a horrible scream rends the air and as he turns he sees Giulio finally cut his way through the tentacles surrounding him but the cry was not from the triumphant Italian, no the anguished cry came from Wilhelm the Bavarian. The CL.U.Ber's watched horrified and powerless as the Bavarian was ripped clean off from the raft and was now held dangling over the black water by numerous tentacles his arms bound tightly to his torso by one of these tentacles and so he was unable to reach for any of his many weapons and so was unable to offer any form of resistance. He hung there suspended over the lakes bottomless depths for what seemed an age but with a sudden horrifying lurch he was dragged under the waters a splash and a ripple being the only sign of his passing. The other tentacles released whatever Party members they had grabbed and the terrifying creature beneath sank back to the depths it's prize still silently screaming a stream of bubbles as he was dragged under. The CL.U.Ber's looked on in shocked horror unable to save their comrade, Cuthbert recovered first and grabbed at the other set of oars and with a terrified cry of "Row you Jackanapes before that turd returns to swallow us all!" The others were shaken out of their shock by his harsh words and apart from Goodchild saying the last rites the others rushed to use whatever they could to propel the raft towards the half-submerged city. With everyone working together and with such frenzied desperation the raft soon clunked against the toppled stones of what once was the cities outer wall. "Quickly, quickly grab the gear and let's get off this fecking deathtrap" Giulio scrambled off and onto the pathway formed by the semi-collapsed walls, the others did indeed grab their gear and got off the good raft Commonwealth Deathtrap. There was a pause and the silence was only broken by the heavy breathing of the CL.U.Ber's and their native guides and then Cuthbert laughed "I can't believe we made it across, I'm sorry about the Bavarian but phew" Father Goodchild was about to scold him but his complaint was interrupted by a huge splashing, cracking thud as a tentacle again breached the oily surface and smashed down onto the raft and ripped it apart and it's splintered remains were soon sucked down to join the Bavarian and whatever other lost souls haunted the depths of the dark lake. The return of the Kraken gave the Party the boost they needed to scramble away from the shore and finally into the cursed city of the Itzel. "

The Doctors Journal I may try to finish off the Doctors journals to the point of the videos I've just been on the lazy side of my emotional swingometer. I will try drinking some energy drinks and looking at whatever cool new shiny products are coming out R.P.G wise to get the blood pumping......................Oh, new Fallout R.P.G

The scenario provides some cool deck plans for the cargo ship which wouldn't be to tricky to convert into something more sci-fi or I could be lazy and say ”You've all seen Battleship Yamamoto right?" and just leave them as they are but with added void and zero gee issues.

Seriously considering mixing these two things together, drop the daft rich friends at sea plot and instead use the salvage crew option, tweak a few weapons and equipment here and there to get around the odd MacGuffin part of Derelict and just make the Groenland Tropisch a lost space freighter and job done, the rest as written. So what do you think would it work or would there still be issues that need fixing first?

It is a great flexible rules system that can be tweaked to work in most settings with little effort.

The Doctors Journal The chanting continues and the thick green fog continues its advance and soon the courtyard disappears beneath its green depths. One of the natives his face pale and sweaty finally breaks under the pressure, he looks around wildly and seeing that the fog is still fairly thin at the back of the temple decides to make a run for it. He pushes past Prince Unjay who tries to calm him down and with a desperate cry the native leaps off the back tumbling onto the ground beneath. For a moment he lies still gathering his breath as the rest of the Party quickly gather on the ledge above Prince Unjay calls down to the now slowly moving figure and though we can't understand the language its fairly clear that he is cursing the man. The native staggers to his feet and calls back up to the Prince but after getting a dismissive sounding reply turns and begins to jog towards the jungle but he has wasted too much time as the fog is now thicker and swirling around leaving only a thin space of ground clear next to the temples base. The native stops and quickly backs up until his shoulders grate against the course temple wall and mutters to himself and then with a curse he gathers himself and runs into the fog darting to the shallower parts as he tries to break through the supernatural wall of fog and into the clearer area beyond. And as the others watch, silently cheering him on it looks like he might make it but he suddenly stumbles tripping over a concealed root and as he falls the fog suddenly swells rushing over him like a tidal wave and then there is a terrible pause which seems to stretch out for ever but its all to suddenly broken by screams. The native rises from the ground like a whale breaching the sea strands of fog oddly clinging to him as if reluctant to let him go. He swings around screaming and the Party shout at him urging him back he fixes upon the voices and runs back, the Prince quickly lies down and lowers his hands down ready to pull the man up. The native quickly covers the ground and as he gets closer we can see that his flesh is red and covered in swiftly forming blisters his eyes are partially closed and weeping Unjay calls out and as the native corrects his path so that Unjay could grab him by his arms and quickly pulls him up. As the native is pulled up the extent of his injuries can now be seen as he lays on the temple floor breathing rapidly. Whilst his upper half is red and blistered his lower half is a red ruin, the skin blistered and boiled looking and the flesh looks to have cooked off from the mans shins, charred bone could be clearly seen through the burnt gaps. The Doctor is quickly called back from under the temple where he had been filling in the numerous gaps in the walls in an attempt to keep the fog out of the temples lower section. He is horrified to see the damage wrought by the fog on the man and in such a short time but he quickly gets to work pulling out various jars and powders. The others pull back and desperately try to come up with a plan as the fog finally roils against the temples stone base with a quiet hiss . The natives screams are terrifying and unnerve the rest of the Party causing them to snap at each other as numerous plans are discussed and swiftly discarded. The Doctor shrugging finally pours the contents of a small dark bottle down the mans throat causing him to cough an splutter and he begins to struggle forcing the Doctor to place his knee onto the mans chest to keep him down but the opium starts to work and the native calms down his head now lolling loosely. Wilhelm looks around a worried look upon his face and he fingers the locked book which hung from his thick leather belt he turns back to the others and asks "Is it just me or does that chanting sound different now?" the others pause and listen and indeed the chanting has changed it was similar but now there was a jarring counter chant coming from the east, Cuthbert slowly heads towards the wide stone staircase which led up from the sunken courtyard to the top of the temples plinth, the strange fog now came up to around the halfway point on the stairs and didn't seem to be rising any further. As Cuthbert turned to leave he paused, he swore he had heard something on the stairs but surely nothing could be alive in that acid fog? he took a step closer and squinted trying to see through the oddly thick green fog and again he thought he heard a sound coming from below a sound that reminded him of bare feet on stone he lent forward a little further coming dangerously close to the fog no. He thought he could see a shape forming in the fog it was vaguely human shaped. Suddenly with a cry of fear and shock he staggers back as a head breaches the fog which drips away from the grinning skull of what was once a native from what could be gathered from the creatures tattered clothing but what was now an undead horror. The undead creature paused and tilting its head to one side it looks at Cuthbert with an intensity that could only come from a creature with no eyes. The strange spell was broken when the undead native suddenly tilted its head back and somehow screamed a long hate filled cry and now other undead natives in various stages of decay all dripping with green fog shamble past the lead skeleton and with bony hands outstretched stagger towards the desperately back peddling Cuthbert. He calls wildly out "To arms, to arms" and the others pause but with commendable speed pull out their weapons and taking a side each head towards Cuthbert preparing to defend themselves from whatever horrors the jungle has now spat out.

It was a little bonkers and it bent things as far as they could go without breaking (maybe) but in the end, the Doctor demanded that the Witch Hunter undergo baptism to prove that he's not possessed by a demon. Luckily baptism was seen by Puritans as one of the only two sacraments that they believed, though as with all things religious it's still a crazy web of differing opinions. Ideally, the Doctor would have preferred a Puritan minister but Father Goodchild would have to do, he at least was Christian. So the Doctor is now slightly mollified after seeing that the Witch Hunter didn't burst into flames 9 Mutter grumble) he is still very suspicious of the Bavarian but at least I can get over this mountain of my own making. So that plus the fact that the Doctor is a little distracted by being half-starved and still recovering from almost having his back snapped in half is making things a little easier, oh and that he appears to be on a moon....mustn't forget that.

Have a great Christmas everyone, looking forward to more Renaissance fun and madness in 2019.

That's pretty interesting opposites but their factions give enough wiggle room to still be a group, if in a Dirty Dozen rather than in a Band of Brothers way. I asked as my character is a Puritan and a Parliamentarian whilst another member of the group is a witch hunter who has suddenly started to perform blood magic and has visions and I've been at a loss how to acknowledge that change whilst at the same time trying not to just shoot the witch hunter in the face. If the other character hadn't been a witch hunter it would be tricky enough but somehow him being a witch hunter makes it worse.

How are you dealing with playing with such a mixed group of opposites who normally would be killing each other?

So cool.

The Alchemical fire spewer, A heretical mix of alchemy and reversed engineered clockwork. Gun Combat Damage, 1D8+1 (Armour applies) Range, 12m Load, 4 Str/Dex, 10/10 Size, L Enc, 4 Cost, Not available to buy. Holds four shots, fires every second round as it takes time for the clockwork bellows to pump up the systems pressure enough to fire again. Fumble, Whoosh, wielder takes the number of shots left in the tanks as damage +1 from shrapnel. This game needs a luck roll as a way to see if anything else ignites though I guess easy enough to decide story wise I considered that the target would need to pass a Sanity test as well after being struck by this weapon but thought that was a little too much. Also is Gun combat the correct skill or should it be Close combat to represent the area of effect? not aiming just spraying.

Cool idea, I always forget that those stones can be explosive, a chain reaction would be terrifying plus who knows what weird side effects such a thing could create.

That is an interesting idea and it makes sense, people being the curious warmongers that they are but I had to mention this and wasn't it made by someone very similar to a Mechanical preacher? 🤪

The Doctors Journal Well, that was a lovely break, it rained and everything is soaked through luckily my powders remained dry the medical chest again justifying that extra money I spent on it and all that Bees wax and Tallow I've rubbed into it over the years, Lawks that stuff smells terrible. On the good news front the natives whilst excellent hunters where poor cooks but for the first time I was able to eat something and enjoy it even though the meat could only be charitably classed as rare. After a quick breakfast, we headed towards this way station apparently it was called Karkemel and according to the Unjay, it was only another five hours of backbreaking work cutting a path through the jungle to get there I can now understand how this accursed city remained hidden for so long. Godzooks,! I'm thirsty. Finally, we reach the small clearing where this way station is, must admit a little disappointed, to be honest, it was mostly in ruins through the stepped pyramid at the one end of the small plaza seemed to be in fairly good condition. The opposite end was just broken walls and jagged stone blocks yet to be claimed by the jungle. When we got closer the plaza was in pretty bad condition roots and trees pushing through the foundation stones but it still had a faded glory about it. Near the Temple steps lay a stone cover which seemed to cover up a well or some kind of shaft, the cover was cracked through the centre and was only held together by some sort of opposing force. Two stone stele had been placed either side of the plaza their sides covered in the curious pictographs of these people. Unjay pointed towards the Temple and headed off towards it, the Temple was of the same basic design of many of the other buildings designed as important civil buildings though this one was much narrower it also seemed to have built not on the floor but on top of a huge stone block and stairs needed to be climbed to even reach the Temples base. Which cheered me up no end I can tell you what with me wearing al this armour but I've learned it's better to be safe than sorry especially after Ralphs death. After some more climbing and then a little more climbing in the heat (Good news the rain has stopped...finally)we reached the top and the small building on the top. Cutting through some vines noticing some new growth caused by someone doing something similar to us in the recent past we managed to get into the room beyond. What a room, the walls, and ceilings were covered in wonderous mosaics made from coloured stones and glass all revealing an intricate network of roads and paths which connected a great realm of city-states I was shocked what was displayed in this room, this mere way station hinted at a great empire that covered this land thousands of people separate yet all connected by trade all flowing down these arteries. And yet we were only just figuring out how to send a letter to Edinburgh without it getting lost. The others recovered quickly and soon the Speaker and Unjay were calling for torches they had found an area cleared of the vines and ancient moss and taking lantern and paper and I saw a tiny carving of Bendal Dolum, the plains of ooze and the dark lake. The map was roughly copied and double checked and when nothing else was found to help us we left the Temple. It took us a moment or two to realise what was different, the jungle was quiet and still, Unjay looked around and called his men close and then we all heard the chanting. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere no one could be seen but soon a green fog roiled from out of the jungle and soon the plaza was buried under this unnatural fog. Goodchild crossed himself and backed up his crucifix was gripped firmly in his hands. The Speaker also backed up muttering "Muerte verde, muerte verde" Cuthbert had to slap him around the head and yell "Speak English you bloody heathen" several times before the Speaker who now looked terrified muttered "It's the Green death" and shaking off Cuthbert's weak grip he ran towards the map room.

The Doctors Journal Well, it seems that even here in these far-flung lands Satan schemes to overthrow the natural order of things. I don't know if I believe everything the old man said but is not the Bible filled with tales even more fantastical? I guess we will find out in a few days time if what Prince Unjay tells us ends out to be true, though I must admit I'm not looking forward to hacking my way through this blasted jungle again even with Ralphs hatchet it is hard work. It seems that our escort would consist of the prince, a couple of veteran warriors, a speaker which turns out to be a native who can actually speak English (It's been very hard on the voice shouting at bemused looking people whilst trying to get a drink) and rather surprisingly Father Goodchild. I suspect he hopes to make some political gain out of this dire situation typical of the Catholics all show and no substance. The supplies they have supplied will come in handy though especially the water and sharpening stones well I must get some sleep as the sun is just below the horizon and I suspect it will be a long day tomorrow. I'm still barely eating.................... It seems we are not going to Bendal yet, the blasted natives seem to have forgotten where it is so we are heading to a way station of sorts it was part of the Mayan road network before being abandoned after the trade routes to the city were closed. Through the Speaker, the Prince told us that the temple there had a map that would show us the way. How can anyone lose a city? I know I temporarily forgot where Norwich was but it was dark and I was very, very drunk. that damn Croat mercenary had bought doubles at that last Inn in celebration of making it through the war. You know he wasn't a bad sort for being a foreigner, shame he died after that incident at St. Godwalds he may have been the first to die but I fear there may be many more deaths before this saga reaches its conclusion.

FAST RECAP IV The morning found the CL.U.Ber's waiting outside the large whitewashed building that served as the settlements church and the group was already grumbling about idolatry, the heat and the constant clouds of biting insects which seemed to be attracted to them. The sun rose slowly casting it unforgiving light across the smoky settlement and the roughly cleared land around the town leaving only the jungles in darkness. The gates of the church suddenly bang open startling the CL.U.Ber's. Father Goodchild strode out waving back at someone but as he turned and saw the CL.U.Ber's standing there in various forms of undress he paused briefly before smiling and continuing forwards into the muddy street to greet them. Most of the CL.U.Ber's were slowly learning to adapt to their new conditions and were now wearing partial armour, an open buff coat here a pushed back helmet there and as Goodchild greeted them in turn he noticed that there was something lost in each of them a sin that weighed heavily on them especially the odd man out the one who introduced himself as the Doctor who was still wearing full Harquebusier armour and as such was already slightly swaying and sweat was already pouring down the mans skeletal features he also refused to remove his gloves to shake Goodchild's hand which he regarded as if it was some sort of poisonous snake. The introductions made again and with the Fathers escort and overladen wagon rumbling into the main street, the Father began to talk the CL.U.Ber' s through the journey ahead. he told them it would take just under two days to reach the Block and Mission so at least one night under the stars he also told them that the first leg was going to be fairly easy as it would be taking place over ground near the river though he did warn everyone to stay away from suspicious logs. He said that after the first day they would be turning away from the river and heading North West into the deep jungle and then the going would get progressively worse and yes that meant the CL.U.Ber's would have to help push the wagon. The journey was an eye opener for the CL.U.Ber's the settlement mix of peoples from all over the world seemingly they heard everything from gruff Scottish to something similar to what they had heard in Senegambia and everything in between. Even at this early hour, the town was bustling with people stalls were being set up, fishing boats already heading out and the constant sound of axe on wood was already becoming just background noise. The small convoy passed through the towns landward gate and the CL.U.Ber's were relieved to see militiamen patrolling the walls and streets they were even more relieved to see a brace of cannon in a formidable looking bastion just outside the town which was placed to keep watch on the road and from the strong smell of match cord they were ready, no Spanish raiding party would be getting past them without paying the full price. The Father had brought a small escort with him consisting of natives and slaves or so the CL.U.Ber's first thought but as the humidity wore on people talked and they found out that all were freemen even though two of them admitted to being runaways all of them had been looking for a safe place and in the Mission and Father Goodchild they had found both that and a purpose as well. The area around Belize town was given over to small farms and further out the logging camps more than once the convoy has to pull over to the side of the road to let past wagons heavy with logwood and mahogany some of the waggoners waved and smiled whilst a few just scowled at the Father one even made a sign to ward off the evil eye. The river was a sewer close by the settlement muddy and stinking with the overspill from the farms and camps but by midday, the convoy had traveled far enough up that the water seemed clearer though still muddy with silt and Father Goodchild was able to point out the strange log creatures or as the CL.U.Ber's who had been to school called them, Crocodiles. A few of them were sunning themselves on a nearby mudflat they were fairly modest in size but still had more than enough of an air of menace about them to keep the CL.U.Ber's away from them. The journey along the roads alongside the river was easy enough and the groups slowly mingled and got to chatting and tales were exchanged, there were also a couple of lively debates about which was the correct way to worship. Father Goodchild turned out to be a very amiable and even the Doctors barbs simply washed off him. The Party camped up as the sun started to set and soon there was a cheery fire blazing away with some strange animal cooking away over it. The natives had left the convoy and disappeared into the light jungle an hour before camp and had returned with some game and a variety of berries and plants, the Doctor became very interested and even Cuthbert shuffled over from where he was lurking to chat to the natives about the local flora. Wilhelm chatted to Goodchild and seemed very interested in something called a water vine and it seemed that Goodchild was telling him how to correctly cut this plant. The night passed comfortably the CL.U.Ber's somewhat battered bedrolls still providing excellent service even after all this time. The morning arrived and even in the shadowed jungle the heat hammered down, the camp was struck and the final leg to the Mission got underway. And it was as Goodchild had told them the trail was barely that and they traveled at a snail's pace. The wagon needed to be pushed and pulled several times the worst incident was when they were crossing a small river, the combination of river mud and rocky ford took time and strength to get through and there was a lot of swearing and arguing over the best way to get the wagon across, but after nearly three hours they had dragged, pushed and kicked the wagon across to the mocking hooting of the numerous monkeys which had soon gathered to watch the farcical actions of these strange pasty creatures. Their howls really seemed to annoy Guilio who as soon as the wagon was across began throwing stones up at the trees causing the monkeys to howl even louder and in a couple of cases throw things including evil-smelling feces which drove the Italian into an even greater rage. After calming down the Italian who kept muttering something about "Bloody Imps" whilst rubbing at one of his older scars the small convoy got underway again Father Goodchild casting a few worried glances Guilios way walked over and told the CL.U.Ber's that they should reach the Mission within the next few hours and certainly, before dark he also warns them not to go near any bright yellow vines which they find hanging down from the trees as they would more than likely be Vipers which would doom a man to a painful death if bitten. The CL.U.Ber's stayed close to the wagon now that they were in the deeper jungle it had been several hours since they had seen the last logging camp and four hours since the last lumberjack. After a couple more episodes of pushing the wagon through muddy creeks and clearing away the occasional fallen tree, they finally stumble out into some cleared land the sudden increase in light was causing them to squint as their eyes watered in the sudden light. The mission was a fairly large building a house/chapel surrounded by a rough stone wall which formed a courtyard. It once must have been fairly impressive once but now it was showing signs of disrepair. The walls were no longer whitewashed though patches of faded white could still be seen here and there also as they got closer and their eyes adjusted the CL.U.Ber's could see rough patch repairs in both the outer wall and on the building it surrounded. The area outside the compound was cleared and the small fields were being worked upon by a couple of natives who when hearing the sound of the wagon and Goodchild's cry dropped their tools and rushed out laughing and calling back to the Party. The small convoy was soon surrounded by people all laughing and joking a few of the more impatient ones already searching the wagon before Goodchild shooed them away and in a whirlwind of movement, smiling faces and gentle prodding the CL.U.Ber's found themselves alone in a tidy but basic room with jugs of cool fresh water, and cups of something called Cacao. Father Goodchild bustled in smiling and full of energy whereas the CL.U.Ber's were beat the Doctor swaying dangerously still wearing his armor his one good eye gleaming dangerously. Father Goodchild told them that he had sent a runner to Chief Ticocha the man who led the Koyoh tribe, he smile grew even larger "See my friends your quest to find your lost friend is nearly at an end Ticocha will know all there is to know about this, and I've just invited him to a feast celebrating new friends from across the seas." Thomas de Fronsac stalked over his hand resting on his rapier "Father" he hissed "we are grateful for all your help but you seem somehow unseemly happy to have us here and somewhat hasty in organising this feast" Goodchild stepped back raising his hands palm outwards at the Frenchmans approach "Ah I'm sorry but please do not think I mean to do you harm I just saw the hand of God at work us meeting like we did and you looking for your friend and the Kayo tribe.....you see they are one of the larger tribes in these parts though they are known by many other names and it's been my life's work to convert these benighted heathens to the one true god" the CL.U.ber's looked at each other in surprise the Father continued "You see with you coming here I can finally get the Chief to come here into this house of God at last and surely he will listen to the good word" seeing the CL.U.Ber's relax and that Thomas had moved his hand away from his sword he smiled "Now hurry up and get ready we have souls to save!" After the CL.U.Ber' had smartened themselves up and they had managed to get the Doctor awake and focused (This took a lot of water and a cold compress) they were escorted by one of the Missions Christian natives who took them through the semi-ruined building to the house/Chapel at the back. The doors were open and the CL.U.Ber's could see wild natives standing around talking and drinking a few of them stare at the passing group a couple even nod and smile the Party step across the threshold and into the building proper. The centre of the room is filled with a blazing fire from which a variety of soot-darkened pots hang over bubbling away and producing strange and mouthwatering smells. Along the sides of the room low tables have been arrayed and behind them a variety of pillows had been placed most of them currently occupied by natives and free Africans, the top table has an elderly yet still powerful looking man whose elaborate clothing and general regal bearing marked him out as this Ticocha fellow he was currently engaged in deep conversation with Goodchild stood behind them was a young powerfully built man whose intelligent eyes swept the room constantly his hands resting upon a large wooden club-like weapon which glittered darkly with some glass like objects which had been set along both edges of the club. One of the natives who had walked back with the wagon was chatting away with a wild native and one of the Africans effortlessly switching between the languages. Seeing the CL.U.Ber's Goodchild stands and waves them over "Ahh welcome, welcome he gestures to the man who was still sitting "This is Chief Ticocha leader of the Kayo tribe in these parts and soon to be baptized......hopefully" the old man just smiles slightly as if this is a conversation he has heard many times before. The CL.U.Ber's settle down and spend an entertaining night in the company of the Kayo tribe the Chief did see how the winds were blowing and was almost ready to take the plunge but just couldn't give up on his old gods quite yet and this is where the CL.U.Ber's and their quest came in as it seemed that the Chief was very unhappy and worried when he found out that we were hunting another white man. The hunting part was fine it was that we believed that he was headed for Bendal Dolum. It took some persuading and the fire was mere embers but finally, he began to tell the CL.U.Ber's through Goodchild and the native translator why this was such a problem. There was once a mighty city-state by the name of Bendal Dolum which was wisely ruled by the Ahau and his caste of priests the Maya there were of the Itzel and they and it had grown wealthy and prosperous on trade the city controlling access to the nearby mountain passes. The people grew fat and happy but the Ahau were no fools and still kept the warrior lodges full of lean warriors who lived to fight, to capture powerful victims for sacrifice so that the gods would notice them so none of the other nearby states dare challenge them. Then the years of sickness came, the fields died and the rains stopped falling, City turned upon city desperate to take by conquest what they needed to survive, desperate to gather enough victims for the priests to sacrifice to appease the gods so that they would bring back the happy times. The happy times did not return and the once mighty cities became ghost cities as the few living retreated into the jungles to survive all that is apart from Bendal Dolum. The city suffered like the others at first even more so if the rumors of civil war and cannibalism are to be believed but no one checked as all were too busy trying to survive themselves the last rumors were that there had been a purge and that the current Ahau Kinich Ajaw Janaas had been deposed by a group of the younger priests. Then the city fell silent no word comes from there no voice told of the conditions and no one returned who traveled to it. The Chief shakes his head sadly his voice like gravel "We should have sent someone, some help to Ajaw Janaas and his people we were suffering but the sea still held a bounty but we did not blinded as we were by our own problems and by the time we did it was too late, far too late." The old man continued after a brief coughing fit the only other sound was the last of the wood popping in the fire with a shower of sparks. It seems that as the years of sickness reached its terrible peak and the people thought the gods had forsaken them people slowly came from Bendal Dolum they were pale and sickly their faces concealed behind grotesque wooden masks which were shaped as if they were in constant pain. These were the followers of the Old Gods the ones who once walked between the stars but who now slept waiting for the time to be right again but whose dreams could be sensed by these new Priests and through these dreams, they were taught how to worship properly and in return gifted true blessings. These diseased ones stalked the land trying to convert the other cities and for a time they were successful their magic worked they could provide food and full bellies and all they asked was that the new convert take a token to their city as a sign of their faith and they would be taken to the great Temples on the lake and be reborn in the faith of the Old Ones. Now was that too much to ask for all the gifts of food and safety that the Old Gods would grant? A lot of people went to Bendal Dolum taken in by the smooth whispers and promises of these Priests but not all as others felt repelled and soul-sick in the presence of these very selfsame priests and refused to go on the pilgrimage of the weeping eyes. The city in the lake swallowed all those who entered but with the road to the city reopened things could now get out and the stories and rumours troubled those remaining cities but they were far too weak to do anything. It took a while but the years of Sickness finally came to an end and those left were no longer troubled by the disease of brown water which stole their energy and finally their lives also the rains returned and again the rivers flowed strongly once more and the maize grew tall and strong. Apart from the masked Priests and a few heavily hooded men who traded rubies for slaves and a few other items no other left the city on the lake, no diplomats arrived seeking allies or tribute no people left to meet up with old friends or to see family, Bendal Dolum had returned but was not the same city as before. The old man sighed "All continued for a year or so some cities never recovered and remained grim reminders of the gods fickleness but others started to fill up again the farmers returned to their fields and people got on with living but always Bendal Dolum squatted in that valley and then the villages nearest their valley started emptying no one knew why but nothing living remained the only thing found was a strange symbol carved into the ground and those who saw it experienced nightmares and death. The tribes and cities finally united behind a powerful Chilan who claimed he had seen the gods world plan was being changed and corrupted by those now in Bendal Dolum. An army was sent down the High road to seek answers and put these new Priests to the test. He smiled "Well you can guess what happened but let's just say it ended badly only one man returned and he was half mad with the things he had witnessed. The Old gods were real and they were hungry after their long slumber. He went on to describe the terrible war that almost finished off the Mayan people but they knew they had to cleanse the corruption before it spilled out of that dark valley. Everyone united as they had never before the Mopan, Yucatec, Kayo and even the Kekchi sent all the men they could spare and the War of the gods had begun. He told tales of desperate battles against suicidal attacks launched by the scared ones of the slow grind towards the city on the lake, of the villages put to the torch the women and children burnt alive and how these deaths became seen as a mercy killings as the people had been changed somehow. The battle of the peaks where the Maya finally forced themselves into the valley of the Itzel became the watershed as all now could see how far the Itzel had fallen under their new gods. The valley was once one of the most fertile areas in this part of the country the soil rich and irrigated by the numerous streams and rivers which flowed from the mountains and into the great lake now instead of fields of maize interspaced with fruit and nut trees nothing but barren fields remained all coated in a strange black ooze and it was through this strange landscape that the army marched through. Many became sick as the ooze burnt into them causing yellow blisters to form almost instantly whilst others started to cough up blood these men were sent back and so as the army marched it slowly became smaller. The old man coughed and asked for a drink of spicy chocolate the fire was prodded back into life which cheered up the Chief as he said "Some tales are best told in the light lest the things in the darkness become curious" Once all had returned and sat down again the Chief continued "This is what we thought was the ending but maybe "He looks at the CL.U.Ber's "We were wrong, the army marched into the precincts of the eerily quiet city no one was encountered, not even a child all was still until they reached the central temple and they learned why. The central plaza was piled high filled with the stinking bodies of a cities population fat flies buzzed lazily through the rotten charnel remains. All those people had been killed in the same way but not in the holy way their hearts remained caged behind their ribs instead their heads had been smashed open and the brains removed. The enemy who had fought so fiercely before had been killed by their Priests but for what reason? With the Itzel and their converts dead surely they had won or so they thought but then the chanting began and a green mist began to flow down from the temple. The mist flowed amongst the dead and the air became heavy with the stench of rotten meat, waste, and blood....the flies gathered together in a huge central ball buzzing loudly as their feast was interrupted and the buzzing reached almost painful levels before they poured through the shocked living, crawling over their sweat soaked bodies forcing their ways into eyes, mouths ears and noses all the time the volume of the buzzing increased until with a bang of displaced air that knocked down a few of the panicking warriors. And then the reason why Bendal Dolum is now known among my people as the city of the Necromancers becomes obvious............................. the dead moved. It was nearing two am and the fire had long died out and now only a lantern and a few sputtering candles remained to keep the darkness at bay as the Chief continued his tale. "Hundreds of dead shuffled and wormed their way upwards to stand blocking the way to the Great Temple. Arrayed before the living the dead now stood rank after rank, this disrespect to Lord Ac Puch could not be allowed to stand but the living wavered most of the dead were unknown but here and there was a corpse that someone recognised with a start of horrified shock, a Mother or a sibling those that had been taken in by the honeyed words of the pale priests. Silence descended and the two great hosts just stood inches apart, the green fog still flowed down the Temple steps forming a thick bank that covered the plazas stone floor. The tension was almost a living thing and then a loud mellow sound rang out from the top of the Temple looking up the living could see a giant painted man he strode down the steps followed by an escort of pale priests, he was blowing into a huge painted conch horn the loud single note it produced echoing out across the silent city and as it faded the dead moved and the giant laughed. Many heroes were born that day only to die soon afterward's dragged down by the hands of the dead and ripped asunder but the living would not give up now not after sacrificing so much just to get this far if the peoples song was over then so be it but they would avenge their loved ones and their gods. prayers were offered up to Buluc Chabtan and the living surged forwards. The battle of the mouth of Xibalba lasted two days and nights and on the third day those that remained among the living found themselves climbing up the Temple steps surrounded by a sea of gore and rot. They looked up into the rising sun and knew that Kinich Ahu was with them and even though they were soul weary, tired and near death themselves they continued to march upwards. The first tier was held by the hooded ones but they were swept away their forms now exposed to the blessings of the sun, they were pathetic things thin, broken and diseased their flesh covered in deep brands and scarification. The second tier was filled with the masked priests whose very presence disturbed those close. Here the battle was hard fought the priests though unarmed prove hard to kill and their nails were like claws and they were able to rip great chunks of flesh and muscle away with just a single swipe of their arms but again they fell to the chipped and broken daggers and axes of the living. The once vast host of Mopan, Yucatec, Kayo and yes even the Kekchi was but a shadow's shadow of what it had been only a day ago" The Chief laughed "You white men every think how you conquer us so easily? why you found so many of our cities already empty? between the years of sickness and the Itzel, we never had a chance we were broken before you even sailed across the great ocean" He coughs and asks for another blanket "Well those that still clung to life now crawled up to the last tier their shields broken their once splendid outfits of feathers tattered and bent or ripped away completely only those who wore the salted cotton could still stagger upright and even these few mighty warriors leaned heavily on their spears but still they all climbed upwards to face the painted giant. The Chief paused again "I warn you this is not like your fairy tales life I find rarely is" with that strange warning he began the end of the tale."The last few hundred warriors climbed to the top of the Temple and surrounded the altar which the giant stood before watching their approach with complete indifference. The few remaining K'inich struggled to the front of their retinues and they looked to K'inich Jaakal of the Kayo for leadership and with a nod he straightened up and with his jade embedded macuahuitl gripped tightly in one hand whilst the legendary shield of scales hung from the other he strode towards the painted giant who had finally turned towards him a strange mocking smile across his face. K'inich Jaakal pointed his macuahuitl at the giant's chest and opened his mouth only to be cut short by the giant "You want answers? why did this happen? how did the dead escape the halls of Xibalba? why did all these people die?" he looked around at the tired and battered armies of the Maya and laughed and with a huge bellow he shouted up to the skies "Why did your gods allow this?" he then points at K'inich Popool Jaakal and the warriors beyond "How did they allow me to corrupt the people of the Hero twins, how was I allowed to make them turn their backs on all that they believed and instead perform such foul rites and cannibalistic orgies to the glory of the Old Gods and with such joy in their hearts? he reached for an obsidian dagger that was thrust through a beaded belt, K'inich Jaakal raised the shield of scales and prepared to fight. The giant just laughed again and looked down at the dagger "You are worried about this tiny thing?" he suddenly thrust the stone dagger into his chest and began to feverishly work it past his rib cage gouging out a huge red hole in the process he began to laugh again "That is almost my Masters final gift to you, the seeds are planted it just remains to gather in the harvest" with that he screams as he rips out his heart nd contemptuously throws it into K'Inich Jaakals face before slumping forwards in death. The Chief sighed and that's the story of how the once mighty Maya were reduced, the armies searched the city finding only a few Itzel left alive these were dealt with as they saw fit. The only thing of note was the shaft that pierced through the Temple to a cavern below it was searched and the priests insisted that it and the Temple be sealed never to be used again. The rest of the city gave little else up no silver, no maize no jade nothing all was barren. The little food found was all spoiled by the same black ooze that covered the plain outside the city walls. So after all that effort, we were no closer to finding out why nor did we understand how a city once so mighty had fallen so far. The priests tried to read the numerous Stele that surrounded the Temple but after three had dashed their brains out they were just toppled, maybe ignorance is bliss but still....we wonder" he shakes his head as if to clear it before continuing "Since the city had nothing to offer the priests and the K'inich decided to give the city back to the jungle so that whatever corruption it held would soon be hidden and safe. We of the Kayo tribe were given the task of guarding the city and its lake which have done so until your kind arrived mad with the lust of gold and conquest. If this man you seek has gone to the city of the Necromancers then" he pauses looking each of the CL.U.Ber's in the eyes as if searching for something "Then you best be stopping him before he finds out what we could not" After Chief Ticocha had told his story he asked if we realised what we were asking for, the Kayo tribe had kept the secrets of Bendal Dolum safe until now, he also told the CL.U.Ber's that normally they would have been ambushed and killed in the old days to prevent them from even reaching this far but times were changing even the degenerate descendants of those Itzel who avoided the purges are now crawling out of their hiding places. He nodded to the powerfully built man behind him "I am old and tired and have given you what help I can so I will leave you now in my son's care, his name is Unjay you will be provided with some men and supplies one of the men will be a speaker" the old Chief staggered up helped by Prince Unjay he looked back at the CL.U.Ber's "The Old gods must not return and I fear that all those deaths in the past were just a first step towards something terrible" he gives a snort "Ha, even the painted giant was just a puppet for all the terror he caused, we will give you a chance to capture this white fool Mallebench but if the Itzel leave Bendal in numbers we will be forced to call what remains of the peoples together and finish what was started all those years ago, and this time we shall not leave a stone standing"

🤪FAST RECAP III The Priest soon conclude his business, selling the contents of his wagon and buying a few tools and goods in return the Party sweated even in the shaded spot they had found the expedition guide kept chatting away mentioning the countries deadly flora and fauna with some relish everything from the Manchineel Tree and is poisonous sap to the Tommygoff snake the CL.U.Ber's started to realise that they were indeed far from home where the worst they had to worry about was feral dogs and the occasional Adder. So it was with some relief when the Priest finally came over and they had an excuse to leave, so bidding their ghoulish yet informative friend farewell they strolled beside the Priest. Father Goodchild was luckily a rather pleasant man one who was more than happy to talk to anyone especially those new from back home he hungered for gossip from the courts and palaces of the old world. He was shocked and horrified to hear that King Charles was dead and it became a little awkward, the Doctor had to be moved further away from Goodchild and reminded that it was too early to be making waves. Luckily Wilhelm was able to steer the conversation into safer waters by mentioning that the Spanish and Dutch were now at war over some Spanish holdings in the far east. This interested Goodchild immensely as it confirmed some gossip he had heard, he crossed himself and muttered "Beata María Madre de Cristo" It now took Giulio to skillfully avoid an incident and coughing loudly told the Priest why they were there. The cover story wasn't that far from the truth really we were looking for someone it just wasn't a friend. Leading the Party to a house which had a small shop taking up its lower floor he gestured to some empty benches and told the Party to sit he went up and spoke to the elderly native lady who stood behind a small counter next to a simmering fireplace. The eating house was tidy and smelt wonderful and the CL.U.Ber's suddenly remembered it had been a while since breakfast. The Priest returned shortly followed by the lady both were carrying trays of dishes and steaming bowls of food, the food smelled wonderful but the CL.U.Ber's were somewhat hesitant Cuthbert broke the silence by asking Goodchild "Err it all looks lovely but what is it?" Goodchild laughed and began describing the food, Tortillas, pasty looking Panades, and Bile up now this took some explanation but after Goodchild started to dig in the others apart from the Doctor tentatively at first then with increasing gusto started to cram the food in. The old woman pushed a plate of brown stew at the Doctor and seeing the look of concern on the ladies face when he gently pushed it away asked Goodchild to translate that he had lost his appetite due to the recent death of a family member, the old lady smiled sadly and taking the bowl away gave his hand a gentle squeeze Doctor Norton suddenly missed his Mum mustache and all. Over the meal, Father Goodchild answered what questions he could, yes he remembered a man matching Mallebench hiring men but never really spoke to him he just thought he was another foolish Englishman looking to get rich quick on some harebrained treasure hunt. He did know they Kayo tribe though, in fact, they were quite a large tribal group near to his mission it was his task to convert these heathens to Christianity. He said he had made some progress but still had a way to go as the natives didn't see any reason to follow the one true God over their pantheon, in fact, some were happy enough just to add the all mighty to it, of course, he did his best to stamp out such heresy. The meal over Father Goodchild agreed to take the CL.U.Ber's inland as far as his mission if they could be ready to leave in the morning as had various reports, as well as the previous months, accounts to hand over to the curate at the towns only church he also agreed to try and arrange an introduction to the chief of the Kayo tribe, he seemed oddly happy about this. The CL.U.Ber's head back to the Throb and begin to prepare their equipment and gear, for the trip inland there was a lot of chatter as after so long at sea they had a solid lead now and a direction to follow and hopefully, it would lead them just that little bit closer to the man they hunted.

I'm interested but will be starting a new job in the next two/three weeks so will need to find out how the shifts fall before committing to anything. Do you have a rough idea on days/times you want to run etc?

FAST RECAP II The shabby stockaded trading post/settlement on Roatan was left smoldering behind as the CL.U.Ber's took a skiff to the mainland they wished the Governor well and said they would pass on his warnings to the main British settlement that the Spanish were again trying to wipe out any possible rivals to their colonial power in the area. The Peony to left and headed for safer waters Captain Cose did not fancy his chances if he encountered the Spanish warship now identified as the Trinidad captained by that notorious Pirate hunter Alcola. The CL.U.Ber's reach the mouth of the Haulover Creek and are rowed into the shabby but bustling village of Belize. The place stank to high heaven everywhere there was an everpresent smell of rotting wood but the place seemed thriving there were people of all colors moving around, dockers loaded up ships with barrels of dye from the processed logwood whilst others unloaded the goods needed to keep the port alive, sailors headed to ships some oddly heavy armed with cannons, street hawkers plying their trade selling everything from the mundane to the exotic. Animals scurried everywhere and the sounds of cows and pigs being slaughtered added to the general cacophony. The place smelled bad sounded worse but the CL.U.Ber's didn't seem to mind as to them it smelled of home and civilization even the smell of all that sweaty humanity seemed reassuring after the long sea voyage. They were dropped off by an Inn (The inn was called the Throbbing Prickle 🤪) which the boatman recommended, the ale was hardly watered down and the bedding got changed at least once a month and the lice aren't a problem as the scorpions eat most of them. They got themselves a couple of rooms and after a meal and a few drinks and listening to the local gossip which was all pretty bad as rumours were flying of a large Spanish military campaign getting underway but most of the older patrons didn't seem too worried merely saying that it's happened before and it will happen again no doubt but the jungle is none too far and the Spanish never search that far. The CL.U.Ber's tell their story of the attack on Roatan and even manage to get a few free drinks out of it, especially after they heard about the huge explosion that nearly destroyed the landward gate. A quick note was dispatched to what passed as Alderman here informing them of the events on Roatan, the Spanish ship and Captain Alcola. After a restful day trying to adjust to the humid local conditions the CL.U.Ber's retired for the night. The next day was spent exploring the settlement and trying to pick up any local gossip about Mallebeench. The C.L.U.Ber's experienced the full force of culture shock in those sweaty stench filled alleyways and roads the town was filled with people from all over white, black and everything in between natives strolled around some wearing a strange combination of western and local dress strange monkeys howled from cages whilst oddly long-limbed ones stared mournfully at the passing of the CL.U.Ber's only a few tried to reach out for food before being brought short by the thin chains which hung around their necks. Gaily coloured birds flew overhead their squawking adding to the sense of otherworldliness felt by the party. They had to force their way past crowds of people, defend themselves from hawkers and pickpockets until they reached the main market/civic center. The building was one of the few stone buildings in Belize and it rose two stories and sported a thickly thatched roof which overhung an arcade of stalls and auction blocks the dim porch was cool and provided much welcome relief from the humidity. All their inquiries had brought them here and asking around the finally met a man who could provide the information. The man provided services to some of the explorers that passed through here from time to time those that came to find their Eldorado or just the men who worked for the lumber Barons all needed guides all needed supplies and he could provide both for the right price. The wheels suitably greased he told the CL.U.Ber's of a man who matched the description of this Mallebeench fellow but that apart from a few basic supplies he sadly hadn't purchased much from him deciding instead to spend his coin hiring scum from the gutters before heading out towards the deep jungle. The man sighed and when pressed replied "I do not think your friend made a good investment he spent foolishly not enough food and water and those scum he hired will have him dead and naked as soon as they hit the jungle" he did not know of any city called Bendal Dolum but he admitted that there were still plenty of strange native cities out there now hidden by the dense jungle so who knows what treasure filled temples remained out there ready for the plucking. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together indicating that some more money needed to change hands and afterwards smiling a black gap-toothed smile he told them that the furthest outpost of civilization in these parts was the Jesuit Block and Tackle mission run by old Father Goodchild who constantly battled to save the souls of the heathen savages and it seems they were in luck he points languidly to a thin man a couple of stalls down the man seems to be wearing faded and patched robes and has a wagon full of fruits, barrels and other farm produce. The CL.U.Ber's swallowed their disgust at having to approach a Catholic priest but needs must. The man was weather-beaten and thin but otherwise seemed healthy enough and his eyes still held some conviction in them and when approached by the CL.U.Ber's he apologized and gesturing to his overloaded wagon politely asked them to wait but as soon as he had completed his business he would be more than happy to speak to them.

Cheers man, will have to check these out as they sound perfect also Samurai Alchemist has me intrigued.

Just wondering where most people set their Renaissance games, is it in war-torn Britain, War-torn Europe or somewhere even more fantastical and "um" war-torn?

An Alchemist and a Clockwork Preacher* get drunk one night and....... The glass bulb gets filled with all sorts of interesting alchemical formulas. *Admittedly one of them has to be let out of their prison cell first.

So has anyone watched the live recordings and if so what do you think, good bad or indifferent? and does anyone have any tips or advice should the Doctor concentrate on upping his medical skills or should he improve his swordsmanship in an effort to live long enough to actually heal people?

Bloody awesome, and you're so right those cannons do offer up some interesting ideas...cue evil G.M laugh.