Figured it was about time for another post from our uberpowered Mutants and Masterminds' campaign. Since I last posted (http://andrewgreenberg.livejournal.com/42384.html
), our team of godbeaters returned to Inglemia, only to discover that a noble houses' feud over who got to control the dogeship (not the dogship) had spilled over into riots in the streets, and our butler blowing up our house. After dealing with the most pressing issues, rescuing our sponsor, and giving our butler the opportunity to spend a few years cleaning our demon's chamber pots, we decided to get to the heart of the matter.
One of our Holistic Design writers, TC Ricks, has been a writer on Red Anvil Production’s Inglemia game line. He recently suckered a group of the old HDI
crew into a delightful little campaign, politicking, jumping between dimensions, humiliating gods, and so on. Inglemia is a high-powered multiverse campaign, linking numerous classic settings and themes.
Our party consists of:
• Hobbes the Demon (think Hellboy from da Bronx), played by Bernard Clark, the voice of “Mall Tycoon” (also known as Demon Not-Appearing-in-This-Adventure);
• The Honorable Lord Charles Darby Chetwynd-Polyshane, Esquire, an Inglemian noble, inventor of the magical iStone devices, and erstwhile leader of our little band, played by CCP senior game designer Andy Harmon;
• Glythbaad Sslurr, a Greyhawk ilithid (tentacled mindflayer), run by Bill Bridges, co-creator of the Fading Suns;
• Virgilius “Virgil” Marchbanks Chumley, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion from Narnia (who also happens to be a honey badger), played by John Bridges, HDI
’s old art director and now concept artist at Xaviant; and
• My own constantly shapeshifting druid ambassador from Animalia, Goni Vihal, usually found in the form of Wreckles the dog (and only occasionally as a dire chihuahua). Together, we are known by friends and foe alike (many more of the latter than the former) as the Right Bastards.
We received a missive from Leopold (Leopold, Leopold!), the former doge's brother, asking for us to meet him in an abandoned warehouse. Our sponsor, The Honorable Lord Charles Darby Chetwynd-Polyshane, Esquire, had rejoined us, and in the warehouse we discovered Leopold sitting next to an ancient artifact called the Oath Stone (not to be confused with the Stone Table™ from Narnia). As Leopold began telling us of a great threat to Inglemia, a bullet burst through a warehouse window, killing both Leopold and a previously unseen urchin.
Our mindflayer and my Druid took off after the assassin (him in astral form and me as a hawk), while Lord Darcy and our Narnian honey badger secured the crime scene. The mindflayer's astral form could not pierce the assassins' sphere of invisibility, but when my hawk crossed its threshold, I discovered a sky frigate filled with militia members and an assassin poised to shoot good Lord Darcy! A quick shape change into a manticore ended that specific threat, and me in possession of a really cool sniper rifle, but left me facing an angered and armed frigate.
Before they turned me into Inglemian Swiss cheese, the mindflayer used our mental link to teleport Lord Darcy to the bridge. There, his stirring words and inspiring presence, aided by more than a little mind control, shamed the frigate into surrendering. We landed the frigate, summoned the gendarmes, and returned to investigating the scene of the crime.
Leopold's body was decomposing rapidly, and Darcy speedily prepared a "Speak with Rotting Corpse" ritual. Poor Leo was filled with contrition about something, and his ghost (GoGo Hamlet Power, activate!) begged us to swear loyalty on the Oath Stone. As our loyal readers may have gathered, good Lord Darcy is always willing to rush in where angels fear to tread. He promptly swore fealty to Inglemia on the artifact. Swearing thus immediately made him a member of the ultramysterious Clear Society. This was not, as my Druid supposed, a secret provider of Inglemia's wireless network. Instead it is an extremely select group dedicated to preserving Inglemia. As a member, Darcy got a mental bond to the other members - which seemed to consist only of our other party members who took the oath. The mindflayer and honey badger also so swore, but my Druid, as a Druid of Animalia, did not (plus we already had the mindflayer's psychic link working).
The urchin's corpse was not rotting, and we spoke with his ghost as well. He had been sent with a coded message from our demon Hobbes, who was now missing. We summoned our flying submarine, the Sarah Dark, and left the warehouse to deal with the gendarmes (and ignore Hobbes - heck, he IS a demon, after all). Virgil, our Narnian honey badger knight of the realm, was telling the gendarme leftentant all about the frigate's treachery, but apparently all she could think about was how cute he was and how much she wanted to scratch his belly (NOT a euphemism).
Finally we convinced the authorities of the threat at hand, showing them both the ship's orders and getting its captain to admit that two Inglemian fleets had been subverted. The fleets were two of the three recalled to the Capitol to help quell the riots, and were converging on the Vermilion Citadel, the Ingleminan equivalent of the Pentagon. We convinced the authorities to deputize us to deal with these threats. When the Sarah Dark arrived, we transferred a number of our singing sailors to the frigate, which we renamed the Penzance II (P2).
Lord Darcy also took the opportunity to rename the Sarah Dark as the Master of Humility (MOH), in honor of Inglemia's leading citizen - himself. On board the airsub, we contacted the Krill, an underwater kingdom full of espionage experts, and our allies ever since we rescued their ambassador's daughter. The Krill told us the two rogue fleets had been subverted by House Ohigattan (Bless You!), which had been on the losing end of the past doge election. They also suspected House Ohigattan of being behind the riots, which were driven by unfounded rumors of a food shortage and perhaps-founded rumors that the middle class was going to lose its suffrage. Lord Darcy was horrified at the thought that the middle class might stop suffering, so he again sprang into action.
He used his influence to arrange a meeting with the acting doge, Lady Amamda Lamplighter. Using MOH's experimental teleporter, we beamed right into her office, almost causing her to commit a major breach of Inglemian decorum and spill her tea. My Druid, in puppy form, leapt up to lick Lamplighter’s face, finally causing that most dreadful of faux paws (is that an awful pun or what?). At first the acting doge refused to believe that two of the fleets would turn against her, until Lord Darcy demanded to know what fool had called up the airships to defeat riots on the ground, browbeating the doge about the stupidity of such an order.
It quickly became apparent that no one knew whose idea it was, and we presented the assassin frigate orders as further proof. Acting-Doge Lamplighter finally agreed to order the traitor fleets to turn back, and the one loyal fleet to attack if they did not. Lord Darcy's dander was now raised by the sheer stupidity of it all, and he chastised the acting doge to the point where she challenged him to a duel, which he smoothly dismissed until after the crisis had passed.
Now we moved to stop the riots. As the air fleets converged on the city, my Druid (aided by Darcy and the Mindflayer, which is a great name for a TV detective show) tapped into a powerful nature node. He told the fruit-bearing plants of Inglemia that it was time for them to come to the aid of their countrymen, and we conducted a powerful ritual to get them bearing fruit out of season. I dare not tell you the secret rites involved in this massive vegetarian fertility right, but suffice it to say that the Jolly Green Giant could not walk for days.
Following the successful conclusion of the fruity ritual, Lord Darcy used his growing influence to commandeer Inglemia's communications systems. Broadcasting from his stuffed chair in front of his fireplace, with Dregoth's stuffed head behind him, my dog form at this feet and a pipe in hand, Lord Darcy reassured the city that the very plants of the land had heard their cries and were coming to their aid. Now, with the people rejoicing and the acting doge fuming helplessly, we turned to deal with the massive air fleets.
To be continued ...