Gnome wasn't built in a day.

Gnome had never stopped being built, when you looked at the spread of its history. From the earliest settlers who were raised by wolves or something like that, to the tribe of tiny, clever people who conquered it with their coal-burning war machines, to the endless diaspora of immigrants and slaves that had flooded in when the empire really got going, each and every one of its dwellers had contributed something to the city.

Sometimes more than they planned to. More than one foundation in the Wholly Gnoman Empire's crown city-state covered bones, nothing but fields of bones of those who had given all for her glory.

Mind you, that had been quite a few centuries ago. And the following generations hadn't always taken care of her infrastructure as well as they could have. Including the infrastructure of the apartment the vigilantes had rented to Chase

Which was why Signore Massini apologized, as the clock on the wall of the living room chimed one, and promptly spat out a shower of gears and grime. “Sorry, sorry! We don't have any way to turn those off.”

“It's no problem,” Chase said, removing her headscarf and staring at the oily crud all over it. “I think I got it off before the oil soaked through.” Throughout the rest of the insula she could hear other clocks chiming. Most of them sounded decidedly unhealthy, and at one point there was a puff of steam visible past the single high window that looked out onto the ashen sky.

“Here. You have to rub it with sand,” Signora Massini said, pulling out a jar of the stuff. “Otherwise it stains pretty bad.”

“You don't say...” Chase studied the wall across from the clock, and the black smear that ran from it down to the floor. It shone like hardened tar, with the occasional tiny cog sticking out. “You'd have thought this clock would run out of gears at some point.”

“They do. This one's broken any number of times. Sometimes we go weeks without having to mop oil off of things,” Signora Massini said, stuffing Chase's scarf into the jar.

“But they always get fixed,” Signore Massini said as his wife worked. “Everything in this insula does, eventually. Until it breaks again.” He settled into a worn chair, and gestured toward a low table. Chase took her seat there, tucking her legs under it while the rest of her crew did their best to fit into the cramped apartment. The Massini children watched from the door to the rest of the tenement, all big eyes and red hair and freckles and gap-toothed mouths open in wonder.

Then Renny offered to play with them, and it was all gap-toothed grins. “I'll listen in!” he called back as he followed the kids to their rooms. “It's been forever since I had a good playtime!”

“I don't know what he is, but he seems handy,” Signora Massini said, returning Chase's headscarf. “Got any more of those for sale?”

“Ah... sorry, he's people.”

“Oh! My mistake,” The plump woman colored. Slavery had been illegal in Gnome for quite some time, now. “I meant nothing by it.”

“No offense taken!” Renny called back. “Hey, you've got wooden horses! Let's ride!”

“How does the clock get fixed?” Cagna frowned at it. Corroded bronze sat in a sturdy frame in the wall, with two vents letting out puffs of white steam to either side. Scuffed and bent laquered hands clicked and clunked as they marched around in their unending circle.

“The duodecimen fix it,” Signore Massini said with a smile.

Chase knew that smile. It was the one Gammer Wheedle used to get whenever someone from out of town asked him how he made such fabulous mint jelly.

So she wasn't entirely surprised when Signore Massini's wife flicked sand at his head. He flinched back, raised his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry! Sorry. It's an old legend. There's supposed to be tiny mechanical men that live in the walls and tend the clocks.”

“It's a kid's story,” Signora Massini said, screwing the lid back on the jar of sand and replacing it on the mantle. “Obviously the clocks and everything else gets fixed by magic.”

“If you say so,” Cagna said, then shook her head and turned her attention back to the rest of the group. “Okay. Let's get to business. What can you tell us about the people in the surrounding neighborhoods?”

“Before the dragon?” Signore Massini shrugged. “Lots. After the dragon? Not so much. I don't know who's left. We have had visitors. Most of them had no good business here.”

“Why did you block off two of the streets?” Speranza asked.

He grimaced. “We had to. The Via Marmota was afire. The ROUS's were fleeing this way, attacking all in their path.”

“ROUS's?” Chase asked.

“Rodents of Unusual Size,” Signora Massini supplied. “What's so funny?”

“Nothing,” Speranza said, clearing her throat. “Just the ash tickling me a bit.”

Chase studied her, for just a second. “And the other street?”

“The lightning road was beginning to charge,” Signore Massini said.

“The what now?” The more Chase asked questions, the more questions she had to ask. She was pretty sure this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

It took a little more time to explain the lightning road. Long ago, some Gnomish senator had decided that he was tired of having to use slow automated horses to pull his chariot. So he had devised a chariot that hovered above the ground, held aloft by a sort of magic that required him to tear up an entire street and put magical metal tracks between the cobbles.

It worked... sort of.

When the senator had clambered into his new, magically-galvanized chariot and turned on the lightning road for the first time, he'd gone very fast indeed.

Unfortunately for him he had put the last leg of the road on a rise that propelled him up a small hill.

Even more unfortunately for him, he had neglected to build a way to stop the chariot.

“They say he's up among the stars now, drifting along in the darkness between,” Signore Massini shrugged. “Needless to say they put the project on hold. The tracks are still there though, and sometimes something sets them off. Then anything metal that's on or near them gets fired down the road. Doesn't always stay on the road though. I once saw an anvil go through two insula and knock a hat from a man's head while I was talking with him! It's still embedded in his wall, I imagine. Something that heavy gets thrown that hard, you're not getting it out anytime soon.”

“Why do people keep metal things near this road then?” Bastien asked. “It seems dangerous!”

The Massinis shared a glance. Chase had seen that sort of glance before, when newcomers to Bothernot asked villagers why they put up with living where the river flooded, or why they didn't move the village out of the way of the migrating locust and hicust swarms. It was the this foreigner wouldn't understand look, and it made Chase smile to see it.

“It doesn't charge that often,” Signore Massini finally said. “And it usually doesn't kill that many people. It's just how it is.”

“But It wouldn't kill anyone if people would just not store anvils or things like that on a place that they knew did things like that sometimes,” Bastien continued.

Chase saw the glance that Signore Massini exchanged with his wife. She knew the thoughts that would percolate if they kept going, the thoughts that said how dare this foreigner come in and tell us what to do, and she interrupted before it could get that far. “Is the road still charging?”

“Ah... no,” Gonzolo Massini said, smoothing out his grocer's apron. “It's stopped. Still glowing, it'll do that for a few days, but as long as we don't get a big storm we're probably safe. Might as well leave the barricade up on the off-chance we do get a big storm, you know?”

“Better safe than sorry,” Chase said, and punched the Muscle Wizaard's thigh when he opened his mouth again. His muscles were so tightly packed that she instantly regretted it, but he got the idea and shut up.

Cagna cleared her throat. “At any rate we were talking about the area around us. You say you can't tell us much, but anything that you can will help us find our friend and get through things more quickly.”

“Of course, of course!” Signore Massini nodded. “So give me a second, here...” he left the room and returned with a roll of parchment.

Chase studied it carefully. “We're here, right?” She stood on her tiptoes and touched the eastern central part of the map.

“Mostly.” Don Massini moved her hand over a few inches. “The river's just over there,” he said, gesturing at the oil-stained wall. “The ruler's bridge is east and a bit south. Just a few blocks.”

Those 'just a few blocks' were about six times the size of Chase's entire village, but she ignored that and pushed her finger all the way east. “What's this?”

“The Circus Minimus. It's where the ancients used to do remote control chariot races. It still gets used for dog racing and things like that.”

“A group of people came up from there two days ago,” Signora Massini interrupted. “They say that some of Pope Fairness' people have seized the gate and only people who can afford to bribe them are getting through. The pope's people are taxing everyone else around there and anyone who resists them vanishes.”

“Okay, I'm glad we came down through the north then. That was a lucky break,” Chase said. “It didn't look like there was much left that way.”

“You came from the north?” The grocer's eyes got very large.

“Well, yes. Is there a problem with that?”

“North is where the dragon is,” Signora Massini said, her plump, wide face pale and quivering. “He's made a lair out of the Ginormosseum!”

“I thought he was in the west?” Speranza said. “We came right by the Coloss... the Ginormosseum.”

“Now I'm very, very glad we didn't follow Renny's suggestion and go see it up close,” Chase shivered. A close call, that one. Her luck again? Hard to say. She lived her life at the intersection of fate and free will, and sometimes the line between the two was quite blurred.

“So can we assume that everyone of consequence that way is gone?” Cagna said, tapping a gloved finger against the map.

“Yes, that's a fair assumption,” Signore Massini said. “I mean, nobody's seen the dragon eating anybody yet, but nobody's taking the chance. Where he goes, Gnomans flee.”

“Why did he move?” Bastien frowned.

Chase shrugged. “We should probably find that out eventually, but right now the priority is the status of the city. How about west? What's west?”

“The Pantheons,” Signore Masssini said. “They used to controlled by Pope Faithful, but he ran when the dragon came. Looted all the temples, too. Right now there's a lady out that way calling herself the voice of ash. She's saying that it's the end of times, and a bunch of people are listening. If you go that way the Ashen will take your food and coin and anything else of worth and use it for their own people.”

“The family that came to us said that she feeds people, but people who object get kicked out. Without their stuff,” Signora Massini explained. “They believe that if they face the last days together, united and fighting until the end, that the gods will forgive them the sins that drew the dragon here in the first place.”

“So in essence she's gathering an army?” Speranza mused, folding her fingers under her chin. “A charismatic cult leader and a group of fanatical minions...”

“Sound familiar?” Chase couldn't help but needle. She instantly regretted it, as Speranza shot her a tired look. “Kidding, kidding,” Chase held up her hands. “I kind of want to investigate her and see whether or not there's actually any divine backing there. She could be an Oracle of some sort.”

“Or a Cultist, like Speranza said,” Cagna shook her head. “These are exactly the sorts of conditions that let dark cults flourish.”

“Either way it's not good and that's awfully near to us. We'll probably have to sort it out sooner or later,” Bastien decided. “That leaves the south.”

“That beastkin that visited last night was from down that way,” Signore Massini smiled. “She said that Sir Barriano is rallying the Duke's people to kill the dragon.” The smile faded. “Which means that unless the dragon moves, the knight's army will come right through here. And we'll have soldiers taking what they need from us in the name of the city, and there won't be much we can do about it.” Now the smile was gone entirely. “And if they fail they'll flee back here and the dragon will burn them, and everything around them.”

“A beastkin visited you?” Cagna asked, ears perking up a bit.

“A catgirl— catwoman,” the grocer amended, after a sharp look from his wife. “Thin, scrawny kid. Came in over the rooftops. No idea what she was doing wandering around alone, but she told us she could handle herself, and didn't need any help.”

“I still say she was the thief who stole the food!” Signora Massini crossed her arms. “Probably roaming around looking for things to steal.”

“And I say that if that was the case, she would have taken the gold, too!” Gonzolo glared at his wife. “Or the other things we stored with the food. The city isn't so wrecked that you can't make a fortune selling art to the wrong people.”

“Sell art?” Yubai perked up for the first time since they'd gotten to the apartment. He jumped to his feet and started trying to wrestle the clock off the wall.

Chase sighed. “Speranza?”

“No! No, you stop! Don't sell, no sell! No deal! Here, look, Knack for Languages,” she finished, and spat out a torrent of incomprehensible syllables.

“Whoa!” Renny yelled as he ran back in, clutching a hobby horse in either paw. “No singing!”

“She's not, it's fine, this isn't musical at all,” Chase said as the woman managed to talk down the pandaman. Yubai sat, chastened, head in his paws.

“I've heard that sort of speech before,” Signora Massini said into the silence.

“You have?” Chase peered at the woman.

“Down across the river, at the Galleria. There were some traders from... somewhere. It was years ago, though. I don't know if they're still there, and I haven't been shopping that way in forever.” The woman sighed, and her eyes flickered toward her husband, so fast that Chase almost missed it.

But Signore Massini didn't. “Times have been hard! It's been all I can do to keep us in business, woman. Hells, if my father didn't own our apartments we'd have been out years ago. This is a prime part of town, and it's all I can do to hang onto our hold here, so be happy for what you've got.”

“I wondered about that,” Chase said. “I'm from a small village, and this place...” she gestured at the old, worn stone that was the tenement. “This place is far grander than I ever saw at home.”

That distracted the grocer's anger, and put a smile of pride on his wife's face. Just as Chase had intended.

“The Insula were made during the height of the empire,” Gonzolo said. “Shops and business on the first floor, living quarters above. Our apartment has been in the family for generations, so long that they don't charge us rent. They can't, by law!”

“That's handy,” she agreed.

The grocer continued. “Most of the ones they made had enough space for ten families or so... well, gnomish families. Things are a bit more cramped for us, so a few walls got knocked down. Not so cramped for you, I suppose.”

“Fairly roomy by comparison,” Chase agreed. “So. I think we've got a good picture of what's around us. Thank you Signore Massini, I believe we'll get to unpacking and making ourselves at home, now.”

It took a little more small talk before she was able to get them out of there, and some persuasion to get Renny to leave the children and come back to the table, but finally Chase and her friends were alone, staring down at the map.

“A doomsday cult to the west, an extortion-happy gang to the east, a loyal knight to the south...” Speranza said, then tapped the Ginormosseum. “And a dragon to cap it all off. And here I am, stuck in the middle with you. No, that's a private joke, don't get offended.”

“I'm not,” Chase said. “This is aggravating. The extortionists are the most-likely tie to the underworld, and Dijornos would have been perfect for investigating them.”

“I can do that,” Speranza offered. “One of the player hangouts I used to visit is around that area anyway. And if it doesn't pan out, then they probably have the connections to get me in touch with the larger underworld figures.”

“That seems sound.” Chase nodded. “Oh! Before I forget, Remove Speranza from party.”

Speranza has been kicked from your party!

“Okay?” The woman raised an eyebrow.

“In case you need to form your own,” Chase said. “But this is a good place to start. So that leaves the Knight and the... doomsday enthusiasts.”

“Cultists.”

“No, I see what you're getting at,” Cagna said. “They might not be Cultists, just deluded pessimists. Best not to jump to conclusions.”

“I'll investigate those. That leaves the Knight for you, Cagna.”

“I'm probably best suited for that part of things anyway. I can use my credentials to talk with the man if I need to.” She grimaced. “Hopefully it won't come to that. I'm pretty sure he'd try to conscript me, and depending on how he goes about it my code might not let me refuse.”

“That just leaves the question of the Muscle Wizaard, Renny, and Yubai,” Speranza said, looking around the room. Her eyes lingered longest on Bastien, who cleared his throat and adjusted his spectacles.

One look at Cagna's sour grimace was all it took for Chase to decide. “Bastien's with me. If the Ashen people turn violent I'll need all the help I can get. Renny's with you, no change there.”

“Which leaves Yubai in my charge if we're dividing things up evenly,” Cagna said. “That might be a problem. What's his damage, anyway?”

“Damage is... a good way to put it,” Speranza smiled. “As far as I can tell, he was abused. Practically a slave in our world, made to work in a sweatshop. Think of him as mentally retarded. Slow. He's trained to react to certain phrases, like S-E-L-L and B-U-Y. Be careful saying those things around him, he'll take them as commands.”

Chase considered Yubai, who was ignoring the discussion and happily chowing down on a bamboo shoot. He was wearing that straw platter that he'd woven earlier. It did have the appearance of some kind of hat, now that it was done.

A lot of skill had gone into that. Not a strand was out of place. Mentally retarded? Chase wondered.

And something else niggled at the edge of her mind, something she'd missed. But she couldn't focus on it, and they had other priorities now anyway. “All right,” the halven girl decided, rolling up the map. “We have our marching orders, and time's wasting. Let's go find Thomasi.”

CHASE'S CHARACTER SHEET

Spoiler: Spoiler

Name: Chase Berrymore

Age: 15 Years

Jobs:

Halven level 11, Cook level 5, Archer level 9, Gambler Level 2, Grifter level 12, Medium level 7, Oracle level 16, Painter level 2, Teacher level 6

Attributes / Pools / Defenses

Strength: 71 Constitution: 38 / Hit Points: 109 / Armor: 10

Intelligence: 69 Wisdom: 120 / Sanity: 189 / Mental Fortitude: 55

Dexterity: 134 Agility: 66 / Stamina: 200 / Endurance: 0

Charisma: 210 Willpower: 55 / Moxie: 265 / Cool: 65

Perception: 98 Luck: 223 / Fortune: 321 / Fate: 45

Generic Skills

Archery – Level 1

Brawling – Level 8

Climb – Level 15

Dagger – Level 2

Dodge – Level 13

Fishing – Level 14

Ride – Level 10

Stealth – Level 18

Swim – Level 7

Throwing – Level 31

Halven Skills

Fate’s Friend – Level N/A

Small in a Good Way – Level N/A

Cook Skills

Cooking - Level 20

Dishwasher – Level N/A

Freshen - Level 12

Archer Skills

Aim – Level 9

Demoralizing Shot – Level 6

Far Shot – Level 1

Missile Mastery – Level N/A

Quickdraw – Level N/A

Rapid Fire – Level N/A

Razor Arrow – Level 8

Ricochet Shot – Level 21

Gambler Skills

Ace in the Hole – Level 2

Assess Challenge – Level N/A

Cardsharp – Level 9

Gambler’s Fortune – Level N/A

Hold’em – Level N/A

Grifter Skills

Feign Death – Level 7

Fools Gold – Level 4

Forgery – Level 11

Master of Disguise – Level 15

Old Buddy – Level 7

Pickpocket – Level 20

Silent Activation – Level 30

Silver Tongue – Level 32

Size Up – Level 8

Unflappable – Level N/A

Medium Skills

Bad Fortune – Level 15

Crystal Ball – Level 10

Focus Vision – Level 5

Fortuna – Level N/A

Good Fortune – Level 16

Palmistry – Level N/A

Séance – Level N/A

Stack Deck – Level N/A

Oracle Skills

Absorb Condition – Level N/A

Afflict Self – Level 1

Diagnose – Level N/A

Divine Pawn – Level N/A

Foresight – Level 45

Grant Vision Level 7

Influence Fate – Level 11

Lesser Healing – Level 45

Omens and Portents – Level N/A

Random Buff – Level 9

Short Vision – Level 16

Transfer Condition – Level 15

Painter Skills

Fast Dry – Level N/A

Painting – Level 5

Teacher Skills

Lecture – Level 24

Red Ink – Level 3

Smarty Pants – Level N/A

Unlocked Jobs

Farmer, Herbalist

Gear

Enrico’s Last Hand

Light Leather Armor