Stone Men In Water Street

[Brian]

We're leaving footprints, Victor notes.  I see no sign of anyone else's.

[Bjorn]

An excellet point, Bjorn concedes.  Well, then.  If I get myself killed, don't follow my lead.

With those words of wisdom imparted, he walks over to the shed, and raps on the door, listening intently.  If there's no response, he opens the door (with his left hand), and sees what there is to see.

If there's a response, well then.  That would probably represent a complication.

[Brian]

There is no answer.

Nor do you explode or ignite when you touch the doornob.

You open the door and see ... a large number of boxed wooden crates.  You swear this could be a level from half-life.  Crates.  Crates.  Crates.

Stacked ceiling high, and filling nearly the entire interior of the area.  Crates.

The only clear spots are a narrow aisle through the shed, to another door, and a cramped area with a desk and an ancient wooden chair.  There's a lot of paperwork under that desk, along with some wires running up, to a lightbulb (which is dark) and presumably back to the dead generator.

[Bjorn]

Nobody here.  Looks safe, Bjorn sends back, casting a critical eye throughout the room.  Lots of crates and papers.  Can you bring the lantern forwards?

When the light has been brough closers to the shack, Bjorn goes forward to the desk and starts leafing through the paperwork.

[Brian]

The angle of the light, and its dimness, make for difficult seeing ... but with your healed eyes, this is not as bad as you were afraid.  It seems to be a lot of inventory and book-keeping notes, along with an array of impressive monetary sums (totalling up to about two million, if you're reading them right), and references to pickups and dropoffs.

They're dated, too, though the last update is from 1976.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn cocks an eyebrow.  As old as me.  Whatdyaknow.  Now the question is, what, exactly, were they keeping such detailed notes and books on?

Going over to the most convenient crate, Bjorn examines it closely.

[Brian]

It's unmarked, and unlabeled, except for a faded and half decomposed piece of paper, which you believe says, "Automatic" on one side.

Something illegal, I imagine, Victor thinks.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn smiles wryly, though it's mostly hidden by the lantern shadows.  Not much of a guess, that.  He glances about the shack.  Do you see a crowbar, anything to open this crate with?

[Brian]

Victor looks at Rez, then shrugs, and sends, There were pickaxes, further back in the tunnel.

[Bjorn]

All right.  Could you pass me the second latern, please?  Taking an extra lantern (and lighting it, if necessary), Bjorn says, I'll be back in a second.

Ducking out of the shack, he slowly makes his way through the darkness to the pickaxes, where he chooses the most solid-looking of his options, and then returns to the shack with the intention of opening a couple crates.

[Brian]

You manage to find a pickaxe that does not require you to renegotiate the string-and-bell trap, and it looks pretty sturdy.

You return with it shortly, to find Victor and Rez peering (carefully) into the abyss.  They both back away as another rush of cold wind creeps over the edge.

[Bjorn]

See anything? Bjorn writes, cheerfully.  That's next, after all.  Without pausing for a response (the joys of a conversational media with intercontinental range!), he heads back to the shack to crack open a crate.

[Brian]

Only darkness, Victor replies.  But quite a lot of that.

Cracking open a wooden crate, you find: a number of assault weapons, and a large quantity of drugs.

Or powdered sugar.

Lots of bags of white powder.

[Bjorn]

Drugs and guns, Bjorn reports, heading back out of the shack and towards the abyss.  Surprise, surprise.  Vaguely hoping for something more useful, but that was a bit of a long shot.

Examining the shaft, he continues, Now, what have we got here?  Holding the lantern out over the depths, he carefully studies the digging.

[Brian]

It's hand-chisled.  And deep.

With a very crumbly edge.

Code Select Expand

<Faceless> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Faceless ... : 3d6 --> {13}
The yawning blackness beneath you, the wind sucking at your ankles, and gravity combine to make your perch precarious.

You lose your footing, and start to tip into the abyss.  Letting go of the lantern, you watch it plumet into the dark mystery below, as Victor (moving as quickly as you've seen him move) lunges forward to try and grab your wrist.

Code Select Expand

<Brian> roll 3d6 for Victor
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Victor ... :{16}His plan is flawless, except for maintaining his own footing.  The two of you wobble unsteadily, having a perfect view of the dropped lantern just vanishing without a sound beneath you.

You will shortly join it, so it's a good thing to know, one supposes.

Code Select Expand

<DeFactoRez> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for DeFactoRez...: {6}
Rez, however, has other plans.  He manages, with the strength of a true Aussie, to grab Victor's wrist, and start scrambling away from the edge.

In a few seconds, the three of you are lying on the ground, dazedly, bathed in the flickering light of the lantern Victor dropped.  Luckily, it did not shatter.

Well, that was fun, Victor opines.