The ragtag band of adventurers, each carrying their own unique histories and talents, finally arrived at the Gunworks, the heart of Alkenstar’s defense. Towering over the surrounding landscape, the Gunworks was an imposing sight to behold. Resembling a small castle, its stone walls were fortified by the colossal cannon known as the Great Maw of Rovagug. The weapon stood sentinel over the fortress, its threatening presence a clear warning to any who dared challenge Alkenstar’s might.
Within the Gunworks, the smell of gunpowder and hot metal filled the air, speaking volumes of the ceaseless industry that took place within its walls. Yet, despite its formidable appearance and reputation, the Gunworks was not just a place of war. It was a testament to Alkenstar’s ingenuity and resilience, a symbol of the city’s determination to survive in a hostile world.
To the west of the fortress lay a stockyard bustling with activity. Herds of cattle roamed within the enclosed space, their lowing mixing with the shouts of the workers who tended to them. This was Alkenstar’s lifeline, the source of sustenance that kept the city standing through the most challenging times.
Not far from the stockyard, the raucous sounds of laughter and clinking glasses echoed from the Last Stop Saloon. A watering hole for mercenaries, gunslingers, and card sharks, it was a place where tales of daring exploits were exchanged over rounds of drinks. The saloon was a melting pot of cultures and races, with seats large enough to accommodate the half-ogres who frequented the establishment.
Inside the Gunworks, two towers dominated the skyline – the Towers of Metallurgy and Engineering. Here, the scientific marvels of Alkenstar were born, shaped by the skilled hands of the city’s craftsmen. The manufactory, where most of the firearms were produced, was a hive of activity. Meanwhile, the Ravage Raider Bunker served as the base for scouts who ventured into the wastelands, ever vigilant for bandits and mutants.
The adventurers, each with their own motivations and secrets, were now standing at the heart of this bustling fortress. Dr. Qwyk with his quick wit and lethal weapons, Tychus H. Carver, the charismatic sorcerer, Miss Mercy, the former Madame with a heart of gold, Silas ‘Silver Bullet’ Biskos, the mighty monk, and Dr. Cyrus Von Flensing, the skilled crossbowman, all prepared to face whatever challenges awaited them within the Gunworks. The air was thick with anticipation as they stepped into the fortress, ready to write the next chapter of their story.
The Last Stop Saloon was abuzz with the usual evening crowd, a symphony of laughter and clinking glasses echoing throughout the room.
The Outlaws of Alkenstar – Dr. Qwyk, Tychus H. Carver, Miss Mercy, Silas “Silver Bullet” Biskos, and Dr. Cyrus Von Flensing – were there, keeping a careful eye on Vewslog, the Cyclops Leadsmith leader, and his four Hobgoblin associates.
“Vewslog,” Tychus greeted, his voice smooth as silk. “You here on business?”
The cyclops returned the greeting with a half-smile, his single eye gleaming with a dangerous light. “Just enjoying the ambiance, Carver,” he replied, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. “But remember, even in the calm, storms can brew.”
While the veiled threat hung in the air, Dr. Qwyk, the goblin alchemist and gunslinger, signaled to Hatchet, the one-eyed bartender. With a nod, Hatchet served two mugs of frothy ale and sent them to Tychus and Vewslog’s table.
“To our ogre friend,” Qwyk toasted, raising his mug. The cyclops’ gaze hardened at the jest, but the rest of the Outlaws chuckled. They were used to Qwyk’s humor by now.
Tychus, the tiefling sorcerer known for his cunning nature, was leading the conversation. “Quite a collection of gear you’ve got there,” he commented, a casual nod directed at the pile of equipment that the Leadsmiths had brought in.
Unprepared for the observation, one of the hobgoblins retorted defensively, “Just some parts for some cages, we have dozens.” Realizing his slip-up, his eyes widened momentarily before he quickly masked his surprise.
Tychus, seizing the opportunity, turned his attention back to Vewslog. “You’ve been sitting here drinking with Vewslog all day?” He asked, feigning ignorance.
Caught off guard, another hobgoblin blurted out, “No, Vewslog went to the Western Ravage first.” He clamped his mouth shut too late, realizing he had inadvertently revealed more than he intended.
Tychus hid his satisfaction well, his poker face giving nothing away. His fellow Outlaws watched the exchange with keen interest, each revelation bringing them closer to uncovering the mystery surrounding the Pyronite ingredients they’d previously discovered.
Meanwhile, Miss Mercy chatted with a group of rugged cowboys – a half-orc whose strength was evident in his bulky frame, a human whose eyes held stories of countless battles, and a dwarf whose gruff exterior concealed a sharp wit.
From their conversation, she learned about strange accidents plaguing the two towers of the city. The leaders of each tower, fraught with paranoia and fear of spies, were quick to blame each other. They demanded action from the Shield Marshals, but Commander Loy Ayton remained curiously inactive, his silence fueling the growing tension.
She also heard about recent visitors to the saloon – Anjelique Loveless, the notorious Shield Marshall, and a mysterious guest named Ibrium, a wizard from Nex. Ibrium had been seen meeting with the engineering department, while Loveless had spent time with the metallurgy division. This piece of information piqued Miss Mercy’s interest, adding another layer to the complex web of clues they were gathering.
Meanwhile, as he eavesdropped on various conversations, Cyrus gleaned valuable insights. He learned that Loy Ayton, the commander at the Garrison, was not an ally of the corrupt Anjelique Loveless. They had dealt with each other in the past, which was expected considering their roles in the Shield Marshals. However, it was also possible, even likely, that Ayton was unaware of the corruption seeping into the organization.
Armed with this new information, the Outlaws of Alkenstar made a decision. They would visit the Garrison first to inform the Commander about the looming threats to the Maw of Rovagug, the Gunworks, and the city of Alkenstar itself.
Amid the bustling hubbub of Alkenstar, the Outlaws of Alkenstar arrived at the imposing Garrison.
Their faces cloaked by their hats of disguise, they navigated through the stronghold unnoticed, their identities obscured from prying eyes. Miss Mercy, with her kitsune charm and unyielding brazenness, secured an immediate audience with Loy Ayton, the Shield Marshal Commander of the Gunworks.
With a confident stride, Miss Mercy led her fellow Outlaws into Ayton’s office. The room was large and austere, filled with the scent of old parchment and ink. The walls were lined with shelves of meticulously organized documents, and a large desk strewn with paperwork occupied the center.
“Who are you?” Ayton asked, his tone stern and commanding.
Tychus H. Carver stepped forward; his voice laced with calm. “Who we are is not important, but what we have to tell you is.” Ayton’s gaze sharpened, suspicion evident in his eyes.
“You have my attention, make it quick,” Ayton responded, leaning back in his chair.
“Loveless aims to blow up your big gun. Her visit is not a coincidence,” Tychus said, his gaze never leaving Ayton’s.
Ayton tried to remain stoic, but the twitch of his eyebrow gave away his surprise. Tychus handed him a journal filled with evidence of Loveless’s plans. As Ayton read through the pages, Dr. Qwyk, the goblin alchemist, couldn’t help but notice the bottles of expensive liquor adorning a nearby shelf.
“Yes, it’s true, Loveless has been interested in pyronite. But I haven’t heard that she’s interested in blowing up the Maw of Rovagug,” Ayton admitted, handing the journal back to Tychus.
“She wants a standing army and how better to get it than to make the city defenseless,” Mercy interjected, her voice firm.
“You know that she is trying to get a conscription bill through the Parliament. The argument against it is the Maw of Rovagug itself,” Tychus added. Ayton’s expression remained serious, prompting Qwyk to speak up.
“That’s just part of the problem, she’s been working with Nex and Geb and she has some sort of arrangement with them,” Qwyk revealed.
Ayton nodded, “I did have dinner with Ibrium and Loveless. It was a little unusual. If you all really think she’s up to something, go talk to the heads of the towers and see what they can tell you about what they’ve been up to in the past week.”
“Who do you suggest we speak to first?” Mercy asked.
“I don’t know if either of them are dirty. I feel they are both lunatics. All they seem to care about is their work,” Ayton answered, his gaze drifting to the paperwork on his desk.
“What about pyronite? Maybe they are interested in learning to make it?” Tychus queried.
“Perhaps Miss Sangrey over at the Metallurgy tower could help,” Ayton suggested.
“Any trouble over there?” Tychus pressed.
“Yes, something about accidents and bad luck,” Ayton replied, already turning back to his paperwork.
“Do you handle people smuggling things in? Loveless has been working with Leadsmiths and they brought in some covered cages here, delivered to the towers. Seems too coincidental they arrived around the time of the trouble,” Tychus continued.
“Go bring me evidence and find out what’s in them,” Ayton instructed, effectively ending their meeting. As the Outlaws of Alkenstar left the office, they knew their next mission was clear. They were to uncover the truth behind the mysterious cages and unearth the depth of Loveless’s corruption.
After their meeting with Loy Ayton, the Outlaws of Alkenstar made their way to the Tower of Metallurgy.
This was where Alkenstar’s finest alchemists and metallurgists brewed their potent concoctions under the watchful eye of Dela Sangrey. The air in the tower was thick with the scent of molten metal and potent chemicals. Everywhere they looked, there were vials and beakers, crucibles bubbling with experimental mixtures.
The sleep-deprived Dela Sangrey greeted them with a curt nod. “I’m busy. Make it quick,” she snapped.
Tychus H. Carver, the tiefling sorcerer, stepped forward, his voice smooth and reassuring. “We are here on behalf of Loy Ayton. We have heard you are having some problems.”
Sangrey’s eyes narrowed. “In the Hall of Crucibles, there have been countless small explosions. I sent a couple of alchemists to investigate, but they were killed by yet another explosion. I suspect foul play from those engineering bastards.”
Tychus raised an eyebrow, keeping his face neutral. “Would you mind if we took a look?”
Sangrey sighed, rubbing her temples. “Fine, but I’ll be keeping an eye on you. If you can figure out what’s happening in the Hall, then we can talk about Anjelique Loveless.”
Miss Mercy, always the diplomat, interjected, “Could you give us any more information about Loveless before we go?”
Sangrey gave Mercy a weary glance. “She contracted us to make a bulk supply of chemical compounds. But until you clear out the Hall, I can’t make anything.”
With that, the Outlaws found themselves underground, surrounded by the echoes of their footsteps. Tychus began to utter a spell under his breath, his eyes taking on an ethereal glow as he cast a spell to see the unseen. Silas “Silver Bullet” Biskos pressed his ear against the door at the end of the hall, listening for any signs of danger.
The room beyond the door was filled with crucibles, one of which had tipped over and spilled a strange metallic substance onto the floor. Dr. Qwyk, knelt down to examine it. The metal reacted oddly to his touch, seeming to respond to energy, heat, cold, and lightning. He noted that there was still some liquid in the tipped-over crucible.
As they took in their surroundings, scorch marks on the walls and floors, and a dozen small alcoves, the Outlaws of Alkenstar knew they had their work cut out for them. They were about to delve deeper into the mystery of the Tower of Metallurgy and what it could reveal about Anjelique Loveless’s plans.
As Dr. Cyrus Von Flensing, the dhampir Eldritch Archer, made his way to the center of the room, an ooze sprang into action, lashing out with fiery tendrils.
Silas “Silver Bullet” Biskos, the human monk with a mechanical arm, quickly assessed the situation. His quick thinking revealed the creature’s weakness to cold and resilience against bludgeoning attacks. As Biskos adopted his Tangled Forest Stance, Miss Mercy, the kitsune bard, moved into position and cast a protective shield spell around herself.
Suddenly, the Pyronite Ooze lashed out, catching both Biskos and Cyrus with a blast of fiery energy. Dr. Qwyk rushed into the room just as Cyrus unleashed an enchanting arrow imbued with a powerful Ray of Frost. Tychus followed suit, casting Chilling Darkness onto the creature. The pyronite within the ooze froze in response, becoming brittle and susceptible to attack.
Biskos, undeterred by the fire damage he’d received, charged in. However, as he struck the creature with a flurry of blows, it exploded, turning the reactive metal on the floor inert. Despite taking some damage from the creature’s fiery aura, Biskos pressed on, landing two more hits but failing in his attempt to trip the creature.
Meanwhile, Mercy used her lingering composition to inspire courage among her companions. Casting Foxfire onto the metallic residue on the floor, she turned it glassy and slick. The ooze tried to move, but between Biskos’ Tangled Forest Stance and the slippery surface, it ended up prone. As it struggled to rise, both Tychus and Biskos landed attacks of opportunity.
Qwyk moved in closer, firing his boomstick loaded with cold elemental ammunition at the ooze. Persistent cold damage began to eat away at the creature. Cyrus, reloading on the run, cast another Ray of Frost cantrip, while Tychus followed up with another round of Chilling Darkness before raising his shield.
Biskos, undeterred by the creature’s fiery aura and the inert metal underfoot, attempted to trip the ooze again but failed. However, his flurry of blows hit their mark, landing two solid hits. Mercy, seeing her allies in distress, cast Soothe on Biskos, lending him some much-needed assistance.
The ooze, however, was not done yet. It exploded once more, splitting into two smaller oozes. While everyone took some damage from the blast, Tychus managed to dodge the worst of it, his critical success saving him from severe harm. Biskos, quick on his feet, attacked one of the smaller oozes as it tried to stand. His attack of opportunity proved lethal, reducing the ooze to a puddle of inert metal.
Meanwhile, Qwyk fired another alchemical shot imbued with cold at the remaining smaller ooze, finishing it off. With the threat finally neutralized, the Outlaws of Alkenstar found themselves standing in a room filled with glassy, inert metal – the remnants of their Pyronite Ooze adversary.
With the Pyronite Ooze finally vanquished, the Outlaws of Alkenstar began to examine their surroundings. The room was a veritable alchemist’s playground filled with soda ash, saltpeter, and other pyronite supplies. It quickly became evident to the group that a chain reaction had occurred in the hall, leading to the creation of the Pyronite Ooze and the subsequent explosions.
As they scoured the room, a peculiar detail caught their attention – tracks in the soot. They belonged to a three-toed, canine-like creature that walked on two legs. The tracks led them to the scorched remains of tiny humanoids, identifiable as Pugwampis, gremlins known for their unluck aura. It seemed these mischievous creatures had caused enough accidents to trigger the chain reaction that birthed the Pyronite Ooze.
Armed with this newfound information, the Outlaws returned to Dela Sangrey. Upon hearing their report, Sangrey looked horrified. She confessed she had no idea the Hall was being used to create such volatile concoctions. While she couldn’t provide any information on where the wagon full of chemicals had been taken, she expressed her gratitude for the Outlaws’ help and the valuable information they had uncovered.
Their next destination was the Tower of Engineering, another pillar of Alkenstar that had been plagued by misfortunes.
Ordrik Marth, the tower’s overseer, greeted them with a grim task: clearing out gremlins that he thinks the Metallurgy folks had purposely set loose in the Hall of Siege Craft.
The hall was an imposing sight. Four large wagons outfitted with armor and musket turrets were scattered throughout the room, while the broken-down husk of a Centurion – a towering construct of metal and gears – loomed ominously. The chittering laughter of unseen gremlins echoed around them, a taunting reminder of their task.
Miss Mercy, always the performer, decided to use her bardic talents to distract the gremlins. Her voice echoed through the hall, drawing curious heads from within the Centurion. Tychus and Cyrus seized the moment, launching attacks at the distracted creatures. Suddenly, the Centurion stirred to life, animated by the frantic gremlins pulling on its levers and cogs.
A massive blade whirred through the air towards Mercy and Qwyk. They both dove for cover, but while Mercy managed to roll away unscathed, Qwyk wasn’t as lucky. Undeterred, he retaliated with a critical shot from his boomstick. Meanwhile, Biskos charged in, his muscular form a blur as he unleashed a flurry of blows, only to miss his target.
As the battle raged on, the Centurion’s chest opened up, revealing a cannon that fired indiscriminately. The Outlaws scattered, but not all could escape the blast radius. Qwyk, Biskos, and Cyrus took the brunt of the explosion, but their resolve remained unbroken.
“I’ve had enough of you!” Qwyk declared, firing another round at the Centurion. As the smoke cleared, the construct finally fell apart, scattering the gremlins within. They tried to retaliate with curses, but the Outlaws were not deterred. Qwyk, his frustration evident, hurled another bomb at the gremlins. The explosion sent them scurrying, effectively ending the threat.
As they surveyed the aftermath, the Outlaws couldn’t help but notice the war chariots littered around the hall. It seemed someone was mass producing these deadly machines, potentially for an army. Marth confirmed their suspicions, revealing that the gremlin infestation had started after they began manufacturing a large order of explosive casings for Ibrium, the wizard Nex.
With the gremlin infestation handled the Outlaws of Alkenstar made their way back to Commander Loy Ayton’s office.
They had questions that needed answers and a charred gremlin to prove their point.
Tychus, ever the dramatic one, tossed the gremlin’s remains onto Ayton’s desk, causing the Shield Marshal to recoil in surprise. “This,” Tychus began, “is what was causing your ‘bad luck’ in the towers.”
Qwyk chimed in, his voice laced with sarcasm. “And it looks like your engineers have been busy making bomb casings while your alchemists churn out pyronite. I wonder what that’s for?”
Ayton looked taken aback, but quickly composed himself. He revealed that Ibrium and Loveless seemed to be involved in some nefarious plot. Ibrium had mentioned heading to Alkenfalls soon, the waterfall at the heart of the city. The revelation hung heavy in the air until the sudden sound of gunfire interrupted them.
Before they could react, Ayton was on his feet, grabbing his gun. “Damn it, the Slugs are attacking!” he exclaimed. “I have to handle this.” And with that, he rushed out of the office, leaving the Outlaws to their own devices.
As they ventured towards the Maw of Rovagug, the sky overhead crackled with arcane energy. A mana storm had arrived, its effects unpredictable and often dangerous. As the rain hit Cyrus, he suddenly grew to three times his size, becoming a towering figure. At the same time, Silas shrank until he was no bigger than a halfling, his once imposing form now diminutive.
The Outlaws of Alkenstar found themselves on the precipice of danger. Their adversary, Vewslog, the one-eyed leader of the Leadsmiths, had orchestrated an audacious assault on the Gunworks. Now, he aimed to detonate the Great Maw of Rovagug with pyronite, a move that would spell disaster for Alkenstar.
This colossal weapon, the Great Maw, was more than just a symbol of Alkenstar’s might. It was an embodiment of raw, destructive power. Its enormous barrel could launch three-ton shells across vast distances, leaving gaping craters in its wake. Despite being fired only twice since its creation, the Great Maw was always ready for action, a testament to the city’s resilience and military prowess.
Vewslog stood atop this monstrous cannon, his lone eye scanning the battlefield below. He was prepared to stop anyone who dared to disarm the device. His sharpshooters, loyal to the end, were spread out around him, their rifles trained on the approaching party. To make matters more confuisng, the rain from the mana storm was causing the party to either grow or shrink in size randomly.
As the Outlaws approached, they found themselves in a battleground rife with chaos. Monstrous warriors, their roars echoing through the storm-ridden air, charged towards the fortress.
Vewslog, the cyclopean leader of the Leadsmiths, stood atop the Great Maw with a wicked grin spread across his face. “Tick tock, heroes,” he taunted, his voice echoing off the cavernous walls of the cannon. “Better make it quick.”
Silas “Silver Bullet” Biskos was the first to respond as the mana rain caused him to grow. The human monk moved with a speed that belied his size, a blur of action as he darted towards the cannon. As he ran, a sudden shower of apples rained down around him, obscuring his form from view. He intended to scale the cannon and confront Vewslog directly.
Dr. Qwyk, wasn’t far behind. With a cackle, he let loose a shot from his boomstick, the explosion reverberating through the air. The sound seemed to invigorate Miss Mercy, the kitsune bard, who began to weave her magic, bolstering the courage of her allies.
From the sidelines, Dr. Cyrus Von Flensing took aim with his trusty alchemical crossbow, Bertha. His shot flew true, striking one of the Leadsmiths. Despite the onslaught, Vewslog remained undeterred. He retaliated with a barrage of shots, aiming for both Biskos and Cyrus. His shots, however, went wide, missing both targets.
Tychus H. Carver, the tiefling sorcerer, responded in kind. With a wave of his hand, he cast a spell that the storm transformed into a enlarge spell instead. He grew in size, moving closer to the fray. His face was set in a determined grimace as he prepared to join the battle. Unfortunately, his growth didn’t go unnoticed. A Leadsmith turned his attention towards Tychus, unleashing a scattergun blast that struck the tiefling squarely.
Undeterred, Biskos continued his advance. Now towering over the battlefield, he tried to grab Vewslog but found his grasp falling short. He quickly switched tactics, fixing Vewslog with a glare that was nothing short of intimidating. The cyclops recoiled, momentarily taken aback.
In the midst of the chaos, a burst of flowers suddenly sprang up around Tychus, concealing him from view. From within this floral shield, he cast a spell that seemed to fill Vewslog with agonizing despair. The cyclops stumbled, his aim faltering as he fought to regain his composure.
Silas now returning to his normal size, made a daring move. He weaved through the battlefield, dodging incoming fire, and made a beeline for the bomb strapped to the Maw. Despite the turmoil around him, Biskos remained focused on his goal – disarm the bomb and save the city.
Meanwhile, Dr. Qwyk, the goblin alchemist, provided cover fire. His shots rang out, one after another, landing with deadly accuracy on Vewslog. The cyclops reeled under the onslaught, but managed to stay standing.
From the sidelines, Dr. Cyrus Von Flensing took aim with his trusted crossbow, Bertha. His shot flew true, adding to the damage inflicted by Qwyk. At the same time, Tychus H. Carver attempted to cast a shadow bolt – a spell known for its unpredictable nature, especially during a mana storm.
The storm itself was a spectacle to behold. The air crackled with raw magic, illuminating the battlefield with flashes of bright colors. Each spell cast had an uncertain outcome, adding a layer of unpredictability to the already chaotic scene.
In the throbbing heart of the battle, Miss Mercy, the kitsune bard with a past as colorful as her fur, summoned the last vestiges of her magical prowess. Her final sacrifice spell detonated around the hobgoblin Leadsmiths, the blast reducing two of them to ashes. The wild magic of the mana storm responded to her power, causing both her and Dr. Cyrus Von Flensing, the dhampir turned eldritch archer, to swell in size. This unexpected boon provided Mercy with the leverage she needed to catapult Tychus H. Carver, their tiefling sorcerer and resident con-artist, towards the deadly cannon.
Perched atop the ominous artillery, Tychus invoked his diabolic edict with fervor, his voice slicing through the noise of the battlefield. His goal was paramount – neutralize the bomb threatening to decimate the Great Maw of Rovagug. As he chanted, the mana storm twisted in response, conjuring a giant ogre spider from its chaotic energies. The monstrous beast lunged, its jaws snapping shut around the Cyclops Vewslog with savage precision.
Meanwhile, Silas “Silver Bullet” Biskos, their human monk armed with a mechanical arm and a will of iron, found himself free from his clash with Vewslog. He sprinted towards the bomb, his muscles straining against the weight of the impending doom. With a grunt of effort, he activated his lifting belt, hoisting the heavy device. His strength remained unyielding, and he managed to detach the bomb from the Maw.
With a roar of determination, Biskos hurled the bomb towards the barren ground below. Mid-air, the device detonated in a spectacular explosion, sending a shockwave that rippled across the battlefield and buffeted Biskos. Despite the force of the blast, Biskos’ aim had been true. The bomb had been thrown far enough away to spare the Great Maw of Rovagug from total devastation.
As the smoke cleared and the echoes of the explosion subsided, the Outlaws of Alkenstar stood triumphant. Silas “Silver Bullet” Biskos, Dr. Qwyk, Tychus H. Carver, Miss Mercy, and Dr. Cyrus Von Flensing had faced insurmountable odds, yet they had emerged victorious. The Great Maw of Rovagug was saved, a testament to their courage and tenacity. Yet, as they surveyed their city, they knew their trials were far from over. A new threat loomed on the horizon – mutants storming the city, their grotesque forms a stark contrast against the city’s majestic skyline. As they prepared for this next challenge, they knew that their fight for Alkenstar was just beginning. But that tale is yet to be told, waiting to unfold in the next episode of their thrilling saga.
