Campaign of the Month: March 2014

Gotham Reborn

Vagabond's Journal Episode 1: Gotham Nights

Thee Blind Mice And A Boat

What a long couple of nights. I should have just stuck to the Narrows and rolling Black Mask’s shipments. If I was as cold of a hearted bastard as I put on, I probably would have.

My night started setting foot into the flashing lights and pulsing masses that frequent ElectroCity. I know many of my staff and consultants frequent the place. It was for this reason I found myself leaning against the bar watching for Justine Monroe. The ex-cop had the contacts that I need to get in touch with Sleeper. The conversation didn’t go horribly. Justine wanted to deliver the message himself as I expected, thankfully I was able to dissuade him from the idea.

My night took a turn for the unexpected when a news flash revealed that the psychopath Abattoir had escapade Gotham and was killing again, and in my own backyard. Someone was kind enough to reveal the location of his latest victim.

I slipped out of the bar and quickly out of my face. Checking my mental map of the Narrows revealed that I had already noted a way in on the third floor. It didn’t take me long to find the apartment. The corpse was less than an hour old. I slid the door shut behind me. If I was lucky that would keep any intrusions out of the crime scene while I looked everything over.

It took less than a minute to see that the killer had been let in. I probably could have found out more but before I could the door swung open and there stood two men I would have preferred not to see. But as they were here I wasn’t about to start a fight in the middle of a crime scene and at that point I assumed two more sets of eyes would help.

Fifteen minutes later when they both looked like they were leaving and all I had determined was that the broken neck had been post death I had to make a choice, stay on without them or trick at least one of them into watching the door. It didn’t take much to get Brimstone to stay. With him watching the door he would be between me and the cops if it took that long, which was exactly what I wanted.

My work only turned up the stiffs purse. Seems that Sarah Went was also Sarah Etchinson and had someplace a little nicer than her place in my slums. As we all left Sleeper suggested that we exchange notes at Cape Carmine Lighthouse in two hours.

I stopped back at the office to consider my options, and surprise surprise I found a letter waiting for me. I shredded it after noting the date and location. A bank in the Narrows, a man who wanted me dead should pick his battlefield a little better. This had to be a meeting, probably an offer.

The trek out to Cape Carmine probably wasn’t worth it. I knew that neither of them had anything useful to add. The problem was, for all I knew the address I had from Sarah’s checkbook was Abattoir’s next stop. The last thing i wanted was to be stuck in a little apartment with a murder. Between Brimstone and Sleeper there was enough muscle and training to take down half of Gotham’s crime families. My tumble with Great White Shark showed me that there is a big difference between a thug and a boss in this town. Abattoir may not have any goons but I didn’t want to be stuck in a cramped space with a man who uses a short blade.

Sleeper knew enough to realize why I had shown. Brimstone was too focused on his obsession with justice to question it overly much. Sleeper little boat got us there fast enough. After the walk out to the Cape I could use the couple hours off my feet.

The apartment was dead in the middle of Black Mask’s territory. Chances are this was one of his buildings. I let Sleeper and Brimstone do the leg work. Took a lot less leg work than I thought. A quick search of the place, after Brimstone let us in, revealed that the apartment I had noted belonged to Doug Went, Sarah’s recently divorced husband. My gut told me that waking the sleeping man would give us everything we needed. The three of us didn’t exactly look on the up and up, more like a fever dream come to life.

I should have known I wasn’t going to get my way all night. The muscle turned on me. If I went into the room Sleeper was going to stop me and it didn’t take long for Brimstone to flip. Weaklings, unwilling to do what needed to be done. Sleeper had already planted a listening device. I dropped it, but not happily.

Returning to the office I put my face back on and prepared for the next day. It wouldn’t be hard to take a copy of Abattoir’s files from Arkham. Strange had never denied me any record before now. But things just didn’t seem to be going my way.

Before I could reach the Asylum the Roman decided to pay me a visit. His messenger boy wanted Dent’s files. Nothing good could come of it, but I had taken the Roman’s money up until now and I saw no reason to start acting ignorant now. I got them their files. Dent was always a reasonable man, and I doubt he and I will have much to argue over after the Roman frees him.

I should have known that Sleeper and Brimstone would be at the bank. I did expect the hurled accusations. These were my stomping grounds after all. The open bank vault and named lock boxes were troubling. The obviously living matter inside the vial more so. It looked disturbingly familiar. The question of why was set aside as the three of use were joined by a fourth and locked in the vault.


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