White Knights and Dark Days

Tutorial Run Part I

"Hello, thanks for coming."

“Hello, thanks for coming. Let me say my bit, and then we can talk things over. My name is Otto U. Sanford."

The old ork smiles a broken, frustrated smile. The kind of smile one musters up when there’s too much at stake and hope is running out. His skin is a strange dichromatic swirl of crimson and light blue, covered in what can best be described as the finest ill-fitting thrift store suit any of you has ever seen. His deep green eyes bulge slightly, and his horns jut up from the top of his head like ebony elephant tusks.

You find yourself here, in this place, for a variety of reasons. Maybe your lab janitor asked you for a favor, maybe you’re here to pay of a gambling debt. Maybe you stumbled out of the woods, bewildered but in the right place at the right time. What matters isn’t how you got here, but that you are here.

You look around the park that you’re all gathered in. The place has seen better days, to be sure. The play equipment, what still stands, is more rust and splinters than fun. The shelter and tables nearer your little group seems to have fared a bit better, but sitting would be best done cautiously. A glance at your companions reveals a motly assortment of folks. A weird little man, constantly snapping his head about, on the lookout maybe? A muscular and oddly calm Asian man, dressed like some kind of fairy tale sage. A middle-aged nerd, fresh out of the lab, and looking worse for wear. A slick, overdressed man who probably makes too much money for too little work. Some kind of fragged up cyborg monstrosity. Human? Drone? Dangerous? Unsure. You snap your head back around to Otto, getting the feeling he’s looking at you, and knows you’re not focused. He was right, you missed a fair bit of his speech.

“So I turned to everyone and anyone who would listen. And thank Ama you folks turned up. I’m not a Johnson, and I’ve never hired you people before, but we’ve got nowhere else to go. They took them.”

Otto quivers a little, and steadies himself before continuing.

“Those beasts, those inhuman, evil people, took them. First it was just the slurs, they called us grunge, filth, gobbos. Then a few broken windows, loud cars at night. Nothing we weren’t used to. Then, out of nowhere, in broad daylight, they took them.”

Otto sets his gaze, staring at something a ten miles and at least as many years away. He continues speaking. Not to you, not to anyone, far as you can tell. He speaks to whoever or whatever might hear him.

“I want them back. Mago, Hank, Mel, Parnassus, Emily, Drevon, Alonda…. All of them. What kind of man takes children? All we wanted was to live in peace. But they won’t allow it. So we turn to you.”

Otto’s eyes suddenly focus, he snaps his gaze around the group, hatred, desperation, excitement, anxiety, they all flood out of his eyes. The old ork can barely contain himself.

“I can pay, I assure you. We all can. Just please, help us. You’re our best chance to see our children, our grandchildren, our future, alive again.”

Otto looks at you expectently, as you shift from foot to foot. Except that ‘borg, he hasn’t moved, shifted, blinked, hell even breathed that you’ve noticed, since you got here.

“Well? Can you help me? Will you help me?”

Will you?

Yulong waits for the others to speak, content to stand in silence. When no one else moves, he steps forward, claps his fist, and bows to the ork. His voice is deep, smooth, and almost impossibly soothing, like the smell of sandlewood on an autumn night. His English is good, but his meter and pronunciation betray that it is not his first language.

“I do not know these other men, Otto, but I promise to help you. I am sworn to end the suffering of all beings, your family among them.” He turns and gestures to the rest of the group with an open palm. “My friends, I implore you to join me. There is no better deed than that done for another.”

Linus, looking around uncomfortably, mutters something about ‘the proper authorities’ under his breath. Looking up, he dispells his air of discomfort in a blink and is suddenly a commanding (if not particularly intimidating) professor.

“My good man it would certainly be both my power and inclination to help. I trust the remuneration will be sufficient. I must say I know none of these other… fine… individuals but I trust this will be a simple effort.”

His smile has a vague curl of disgust around the edges.

[ (???) I’m not quite sure how I got here, my circuits seem to be malfunctioning a bit leaving holes in my memory. But clearly none of the people have immediately tried to kill me. But I don’t trust them. Or this ork. But he said something about paying for something.]

Zin turns to Yulong: “I don’t know about that deed for another bit, but no one should mess with kids. I hope the pay is good.”

Linus interjects. “Indeed, about the pay… sorry to… be so crass.. but how, err… I mean there are some supplies for my research that would be… In what form will we be compensated for the considerable risks?”

Otto slowly nods his head, puts his hand on his forehead, and slowly brushes back his whispy gray hair past his horns.

“Yes, of course, your payment. We’ve managed to scrape together about 10,000 nuyen. I know it’s not much, but you must understand that we’re poor orks from a poor part of town. Most of us are lucky to have roofs over our heads, and our collected money represents not merely our pocket change, as it would for some, but nearly all of our collective savings. I know many who have borrowed from relatives and employers merely to sweeten the pot. I myself have wiped out my life savings in hopes of securing their return. What good is an old ork with money, if he has no joy? What good is it to save for the future if the future is taken from you?”

He pauses, inhales, exhales, and continues.

“Please, I know it’s not much, but we have nowhere else to go, and not much left but the clothes on our backs and houses we’re lucky to keep warm and dry in. Know that we will help you in any way we can, and pray for the return of our young.”

Otto shifts uncomfortably, waiting for his answer. His mottled crimson skin seems to glint in the sun, then be washed away by the lighter shades of blue. He brushes his hair back again, habitually, as he stares expectantly at the group.

“Please, I’ll tell you all I know, if it will help you make up your minds. The people who took our children are, as far as we know, the same ones who have been inciting violence and destroying property in the area. They like to call themselves the Brotherhood of Cain, and they’re some sort of human supremacists. They like to dress in black clothing with white graphics and logos. We’ve kept track of a few of the license numbers of the cars that have come through, and they always come and go from the same direction. We’ve only ever seen ten or so of the thugs, mostly men, and mostly young. They seem pretty poorly coordinated and don’t seem to have an end goal, other than our misery. They shouldn’t, couldn’t, pose much of a threat to a group of brave, dedicated, skilled men such as you.”

(Skip) “Maaann, I remember them fellas was the ones that dumped all the glue and mercury in Stone creek. I guess they was just trying to, I dunno, drive all them Trolls out of the camps by the river, but that shit absolutely fucked up the fish thar f’ever. I been lookin fer an excuse to get em back ever since. Sides, I think that thar Charger needs some flame holographs, the ones that make it look like yer more on fire the faster yer goin. I can help yall out, s’long as this aint gonna turn into some really long thing or nothin. I got drinkin to do later today. So where them kids at anyways?”

Linus glances at Skip skeptically: “Yes, this really sounds like the most devolved sort of human behavior. I think if you just tell us your best guess at where they are we can correct this injustice. I may need to go back to my… er… office and collect a few things first, but I can meet up the rest of you shortly. Let’s get this taken care of.”

Yulong puts a hand on Linus’ shoulder. “Patience, please. There are others among us who have not said their piece. They may have talents we need to see Otto’s family home safely. You, who are Awakened like us, what say you? And you, with the arm of steel, you have barely moved this whole time. Will you join your cause to ours? And you as well, who could miss you, a giant among men. I would fear nothing with you on our side. What do you say? Will you help?”

[ (???) My cyborg says nothing, only moves his head far enough to take everyone in.]

Alex Aspera considers himself an expert reader of men, despite his long seclusion from them. It turns out that communing with nature makes one an excellent interpreter of the unseen and unsaid, and from that introspective temperament comes an inclination to paranoia.

The shaman raises his brown eyes and licks his lips, staring softly but intently at Otto, searching his features. “I feel your pain, lost one. The fear of you and yours shows plainly on your face. I promise to do what I can to discover the truth of what is at hand.” He takes special note of the ork’s reactions, subtle facial gestures, and involuntary movements.

[Asclepius uses his Negotiation (Sense Motive) 4 skill to determine whether there is any hint of an ulterior motive.]

[ the check has been made. It was an opposition check between Nick’s charisma and skill, and Otto’s charisma and skill. Checks such as this will reveal more/less info based on net successes. The roll is GM-only, and the results are also secret if they do not involve words, and are not told to the group at large. It will be on the characters who make tests to tell the results.]

After a few moments of silence, Otto motions to one of the orks in the background. An old female ork, slightly hunched, with a ivory scarf covering her white hair and small, glistening black forehead horns, wearing a dark green dress with evidence of wear, approaches. Her skin is a pale, almost seafoam, green, with streaks of dark, dull brown on her exposed hands and forearms. She walks at a normal pace, but uses a tall stick with an intricately carved head, showing what appears to be some sort of amalgam of demon and ork, with greatly bulging wild eyes and an open, horrifically grinning mouth. The carving is only two or so inches tall, but the work looks like it would have taken weeks, if not months, to accomplish. As she turns to face Otto, the staff shifts, and you find yourself staring at two other faces, arranged in a triangle around the head of the staff. One looks incredibly distraught, and the other seems eerily at peace.

“This is my wife, Aka Sanford. She’s been leading the residents in information gathering, and can help answer your questions as well.”

Aka whispers a few words to Otto, and turns to face the group.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, as my husband has said. You look so very strong and capable, I have no doubt that you can save my grandson, Mago. We have all faith in you. Come, look over what we’ve found.”

The old woman attempts to hand out a few pieces of paper to each person present. Among the papers are ‘MISSING’ posters for each of the children, 7 in all. Accurate pictures of the children accompany a few tidbits. Last seen wearing, please call, that sort of thing. Another leaf holds the license numbers and makes of suspected ganger cars, a total of 5 full listings (plate, make, model, color), and 3 suspected affiliates (wanted ads from the local authorities who the orks claim to recognize). A long piece of what would have been legal paper has been filled out with what is known about the assailants. They are human supremicists, the orks do not know why they are being targetted, they tend to wear dull black clothing, but often have bright white lining, piping, or accessories. A large logo with BC in shiny white is often found on the back of jackets, and sometimes on other pieces of clothing as well. A final sheet holds maps with where the cars have been spotted, and which direction they usually come and go from.

As she finishes passing them out, she walks back to Otto, and grasps his hand.

[The cars have been coming and going from North Alston and Angier, coming South and headed back North under 147. The location of your meeting has been put on the map, along with the routes. I’d recommend bookmarking it, or at least saving it.

The cars tend to stick to the bigger roads, though the orks have made no real attempt to tail them beyond the freeway. The players are free to investigate, leave, play on the playground, do whatever the hell they want. Wooo, scene 1 almost done!]

Alex asks, “Did anyone see the children get taken? Where did it happen exactly—have you been keeping watch for more of these BC in this area?”

Aka lifts her head and responds, “We’ve been homeschooling our children in the neighborhood for a while now. We take turns hosting groups of them at our houses for a week at a time, and teach them what we can. The Brotherhood came while most of us were at work, around 2 in the afternoon, and busted into the house with all of the 9-12 year olds. The woman who was teaching that day saw a car full of Brotherhood ruffians and a van arrive before she was knocked unconcious. We haven’t seen any Brotherhood since the incident, but it happened just Thursday, two days ago. The house they were taken from is on Cherry Drive, right next to the main road.”

As the shaman speaks, Yulong takes a closer look at the skin of the two old orks. He has encounted plenty of their race before in his travels with his friend and mentor, the Crusader Behuniak, but none with skin coloration quite so strange or curious.

Unfortunately, the two orks wear too much clothing on this hot day to reveal much more of their skin patterning. Aka appears to have dull light green skin, somewhere between key lime pie and seafoam, with mostly straight streaks of a very dark brown, slightly shinier, running parallel to her veins, in what you can see of her forearms. There is no brown on her face, though a few streaks can be seen on her neck. Otto’s skin, which you can see on his neck and hands, looks like two disparate paint colors one swirl into mixing. his face is mostly blue, though a large red streak runs up one side. His hands, conversely, are mostly red, with only the right pinky and ring finger blue.

Yulong scans the handful of papers before passing them along. “Well, the pay is not great, but these ruffians should be no trouble for the likes of us. Should we split up, then? I believe a few of us should stay to guard the community, in case they return. Others may want to strike out into the surrouding area to search them out, as it seems unlikely they live far from here. If anyone has friends who might be of use here, you could get in contact with them.”

The monk folds his arms up into the sleeves of his robe. “I will be the first to admit I have little skill in the art of tracking, and there are few in this country I would call friend, so I for one plan to stay here among the people, to keep watch, gather information, and perhaps beggar a meal from a kindly home. However, I am only a simple man with little experience in these matters, so I’m sure my plan is not the best.”

Otto smiles at Yulong, and says “We appreciate your concern. However, we are not hiring bodyguards. We can take care of ourselves well enough on our own. They have yet to come against us in force, for one reason or another. Our offer, and our concern, rests with the return of the children. If your compatriots deem your actions wise, so be it, but I do not believe the adults of this community will fall victim as easily. We will certainly be looking to secure our neighborhood in the future, but for now, what good is securing a barren lot? I am sure you are strong in your beliefs, and righteous in your intentions, but perhaps you would be best put to use in the field of battle.”

The cyborg stirs, shifting almost restlessly to his right foot and then back to his left. His body recompresses a little and returns to an inert state

Zin speaks to the group, “Alright, let’s not run go running into these Brotherhood folks without getting our legwork done. Metal-man, you awake in there? You helping or what? I’ll go find out as much as I can about this Brotherhood and their whereabouts, and don’t forget that we don’t even know they did it yet.”

He turns to Otto, “I know you’re in pain. We’ll do what we need to to get these kids, with or without Mr. Silence over here (thumb over the shoulder to metal-man). If there are any other details that come to mind, don’t hesitate to call. Here’s my number. Now when and where did you say they were abducted from again?”

[I’m double checking to make sure his story is straight. Roll things as necessary.]

Yulong smiles at the elderly ork’s protests, spreading his hands in a compliant gesture. “As you wish, my friend. If you would rather us seek them out, I would be happy to comply. Although I would like to speak to the woman who was witness to the attack before we depart.” The adept takes a step closer to the ork, maintaining eye contact. He clears his mind of extraneous thoughts, focusing his Awakened energies on the tenor of his voice and the aspect of his face and body language, his every fiber committed to conveying a message of dominance and inescapable compliance. “But first, if there is anything you are hiding from us about this job, any dangers or facts you would keep hidden, I would know them. You will tell us everything.”

[Yulong is using his Commanding Voice adept power on Otto. Pg 176 Street Magic. The sum of his leadership + CHA is 9. (Leadership is part of the Influence skill group).]

After going over the details again, Zin thanks Otto and turns to poke metal-man one more time. I wave my hand in front of him. “who is this guy anyway?”

The strange one appears to be provoking the cyborg. He contemplates simply snapping off the man’s hand but concludes that would cause more trouble than it’s worth at the moment. Instead he simply shoves him in the side [not sure about how this roll works or the proper terminology but I guess my simple strength versus Zin’s? I’m not trying to hurt him, just shove him hard enough to move him quickly away from me. I guess to be honest, I’m probably not being that careful though].

The cyborg then speaks for the first time. His voice is guttural but, unsurprisingly, not entirely human sounding. It sounds as if it’s coming from a long way off or a long ways down.

“Do you have guns and ammunition?” His eyes are intense and glow from within. Something has awakened.

[In this case it’s purely a strength vs. strength opposition test, with whoever wins winning, and net successes increasing the effect. Rob is pushing with his robot arm, and has strength 8. Danny has strength 3, and is surprised by the action, so I’m giving him -1 more. It’s 8 dice v. 2.]

The robot raises his arm to push Xinedine, puts his metal hand on the elf’s chest and pushes, hard… The elf doesn’t move. As the robot strains, the elf looks confused, and steps back. The robot’s arm stays in place, unmoving and unresponsive. After some grinding of gears and effort, the robot manages to return the limb to his side, though it’s functioning will need looked at before long to ensure no permanent damage occurred. [ladies and gentlemen, we have our first critical glitch, rob rolled 3 glitches and no hits. Sorry buddy.]

Otto looks peculiarly at the robotic man, and answers, “We can’t afford much more than food and shelter. What guns we may have in our community are our only means of protection. I’m sure you’ll understand that we’re loathe to give up our only insurance with the events that have transpired. Should you need to purchase supplies, we can front you perhaps a few hundred nuyen, but we will need some sort of assurances.”

[How interesting! Dice can be a bitch.]

[In response to Yulong’s actions]

Otto’s eyes seem to drift out of focus as he glances over and locks eyes. A blank expression covers his face.

Aka Sanford places her hand on her husband’s shoulder, and squeezes gently. His head seems to clear, and he slowly shakes his head, as if he’d walked into a room and forgotten something. Making eye contact once more he speaks.

“Friend, I have told you all that I know. I long for the return of the children more than you can know. I appreciate the delicate and often underhanded work that you and your companions often have to undertake, but please believe me when I assure that this is as it seems.”

Yulong bows to Otto. “I apologize for my forceful tone, sir. You must realize that in our line of work caution and preparedness will always provide more protection than kevlar. For some employers, a shadowrunner’s most desirable quality is his disposability. But I do not believe you fall into this category, and I think we have taken enough of your time. If you can direct us to the house where the children were taken from, we would like to ask a few more questions there before we begin our search in earnest.”

[Directions are given, the house is not far.]

Otto nods, and says “Yes, of course, you should look over the actual scene. It is a short walk, just on the other side of this park. Please, follow me.” He heads off West, around a small pond, and through a thin, poorly kept tree line. You emerge from the trees on Cherry Road, and walk a few houses down to find the house the children were taken from.

[The house has been added to the map.]

As you arrive at the house, you are surprised with how ordinary it is. Just three houses down from the highway on the left, and right next to the park, it seems idyllic. Problem is, it’s not exactly in the heart of the slums. With only a few other houses on the street, and the closest things being a highway and a park, it’s not hard to see why the kidnappers picked this place to hit. Easy access to the highway, few neighbors, lots of tree cover from the park. If they had come at night, not a soul would have noticed. Traffic on the highway is slow, but then again, it’s not exactly rush hour. Otto knocks on the door, and a woman answers.

This new ork, the schoolmistress, looks just shy of middle age. She has light brown skin, like dry Carolina clay, with a dusting of dirt. Her hair, raven black and shiny, is tied back in a loose bun, more of a looped pony-tail. She’s thin, dressed in ill-fitting jeans and a old white T-shirt under an orange blouse that shows a few different thread colors, indicative of either the homemade nature of the item, or of many repairs over a long time. She has small horns protruding from the front of her head, not much different in color from her skin, perhaps a touch darker. Her incisors seem elongated and push at her lips, but no more so than a kid with braces might look swollen. A painful bruise graces her left temple, and she still looks a bit dazed, or maybe just tired.

“Clara, these are the men we’ve found who think they can rescue the kids. I know it’s a lot to ask of you, and I’m sorry to make you relive it, but we desperately need your help to recover them. I want you to know, first and foremost, that none of us blame you, and we’re all in this together to get them back. Please, help the men in any way you can. Aka and I will be here for you while they ask you what they absolutely must.”

With that said, Otto ushers Clara out to the front steps, and seats here. Aka slowly walks inside, weirdly long cane in tow, and hollers back “Clara honey, do you mind if I make tea? I’m a bit thirsty, and I’m sure these men could use a sip or two.”

Clara responds, “Aka, you know you’re welcome to whatever you’d like. It’s in the cabinet over the stove.”

[With Clara seated, Otto standing beside her, and Aka inside, all eyes turn to your group. What’ll it be, gentlemen?]

Linus mutters to himself “’Scuse me a moment chaps, need to step out and have a word…” and walks off the front porch. He dials in to the matrix and puts a call in with Sanjay back at Duke, a student of his. “Sanjay, he whispers, it’s Linus… listen I’ve got a bit of an odd request but I’ve gotten myself into a strange muddle. Can you look up this pack hoolagens calling themselves the Brotherhood of Cain, particularly their local … branch or whatever they call it. I don’t need a research paper just a little look-see sort of a thing… if you can manage it. Call me back in 15 minutes with whatever you find.”

Likewise, Alexander excuses himself wordlessly and exits the building. Taking a deep breath of the putrid city air, he resigns himself to working with this team of violence and brutish means. Making that poor woman recount the stressful kidnapping might lead them to good information, but in his opinion the mental anguish for her wasn’t worth the price. He silently trots off, eyes cast low to the ground to look for clues that the gangers might have left behind—dropped equipment, even a bootprint which would lend him some information.

[Asclepius looks for clues with Perception (Visual) 2 (4)].

A buzzing in his pocket startles Linus. He looks at the time, and only 10 minutes have passed. Looks like Sanjay came through. “Hello, Dr. Templeton, it’s ah, Sanjay here. I don’t know what you got yourself into where you’d need to know about these guys, but I hope you’re not in too deep. I put together a data packet for you, and I’m sending it over now. Also, I’m supposed to be in class already, but this sounded urgent, so how about you get me off the hook with Masuka for being late in addition to our usual lab space for a night agreement?”

[The data packet has been sent to Linus, what to reveal and when to do so are up to him, he’s welcome to copy-paste my message if he wishes.]

Yulong rests his broadsword against the porch railing before settling into a rocking chair adjacent to Clara. He calls out into the house, “Aka, I drink green, if you don’t mind.”

The monk then turns to the young woman. “I always appreciate an American who drinks real tea, not this sweetened nonsense. So rare, especially here in the confederacy.” He smiles to her, and puts a sympathetic hand on her arm. “Can you tell me Clara, what happened on thursday, when those men came?”

[Yulong rolls 10 dice for any social tests. (persuasion 4, CHA 5, +1 for kinesics.) Swag for miles.]

Zin hollers at his buddy Bob Frankton, asking him for any background on the Brotherhood and whether they buy drugs (legally or otherwise) from him. He also asks for their addresses if possible.

Linus barks into his com “Yes of course I’ll have a word with Masuka, and thanks very much for this,” his eyes growing a little wider as he thumbs through the data packet.

[Zin’s contact has answered the call and private things have been discussed.]

The younger ork recalls the events of the day. She didn’t hear them approach, which isn’t too surprising given they live next to a busy highway. The door wasn’t locked. It’s the middle of the day and sometimes the kids get to play outside. The men just drove up, walked inside all slick like, held Clara at gunpoint while they herded the children outside to a getaway something Clara never saw, and then one of them pistol-whipped her in the side of her head. She woke up about an hour later and called Otto, who she then smiles at. By then the men were long gone.

She recalls hearing some sort of metal hitting metal outside, perhaps a tailgate or a sliding door on a van. Three men came inside, but she heard more shouting from outside. All the men were young-ish, human, and white. Two brunettes and a blond. Black pants, white Ts, black jackets with patches on the arms and shoulders, she doesn’t remember much. All of them had the same shiny intertwined letters BC in a patch over their heart, about 6 inches high by six inches wide.

[Far as you can tell, every word she tells you she truly believes. Otto corroborates and seems to trust her as well. She’s clearly in shock, but doesn’t seem under duress currently.]

Linus walks in on the discussion and holds up the report from Sanjay.

“This is all well and good, men, but I think we have a good lead on where these nuts took the children. If I may say they are a quite worthless pack of superstitious barbarians and I’d be pleased to incinerate whatever their excuse for a hideout is when we’re done with it.”

he holds out the report for anyone interested in taking a look:

Sanjay sent you:

1) map with suspected/known BC hideouts.

2) A list of known members and arrest records. The list of suspected members is about 30 people, known members is about 20 and there have been 7 arrested. All of the arrests are for things like random assault and dumping violations. There’s not really enough to establish a pattern, but the reports seem like they got caught because they were either too stupid to get away, someone set them up, or they they wanted to get caught. Few on the list are more than petty criminals and lowlifes, as far as you can tell. (not very far, you’re no cop, but accessing police records is likely to be a LOT tougher and more expensive.)

3) A backstory/police intel on the Brotherhood. It’s a human supremacist group with limited access to the Walled City of Cary (proper name), which is usually only given to wealthy humans. The M.O. for the group seems to be hate crimes, environmental destruction, general havoc, and disorganized crime. They’re suspected in a number of arsons, toxin dumps, and intimidation schemes, but none of them appear terribly organized. Apparently the group sees itself as some sort of Biblically inspired savior organization of humanity. They eliminate the unclean so you don’t have to suffer it sort of stuff. They see the Awakening as the Rapture, and believe that we now live in the thousand years between the original rapture and the end of the world, in which the good must be guarded and evil struggled against. Evil, in their sense, means anything that’s not a human, though they’re willing to consider metarace sympathizers evil as well, regardless of race.

Yulong studies the map for a moment before handing it back. “Excellent work, Linus. It looks like one of these houses is right up the road on Alston. . . here, the one marked ‘house 2.’ And another still is nearby.” He stands, slinging his sword across his shoulder. “I think we should go and see what the rat’s nest holds. Aka, my tea will have to wait.”

The monk looks around at the group. “Does anyone have a car?”

Aka comes back with two mugs of tea in hand, handing one to Clara. “Oh that’s alright, we know you’ve got places to be. Best of luck to you boys!” With her words spoken, she sips the tea herself, and motions Clara back inside.

Otto remains to see you off, and to answer any last questions.

With the runners walking back through the woods, Otto himself heads inside. Left to sort out rides, the runners now must plan the next part of their rescue.

End scene 1.



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