Where the mayor does his business.

<<FROM PORCHE DEALERSHIP<<


Hunter wasted no time in heading immediately up the stairs as soon as he appeared in front of the mayors office. It wouldn't do for him to be seen in his current outfit after all.

-----> from Porsche Dealership


Trotting after Hunter as fast as his far less in shape body could manage, Rodger followed the more knowledgeable man's lead. He might be the Evil Wizard, but he'd never been privy to any of the meetings, discussions, contracts, et al involving this brigade and game business. And Don was and had been.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:55, Fri 08 Oct 2010.

The rest of the Clown Brigade had gathered in the room, and they all looked up as Don and Rodger arrived.

The one known as "Chuck" had been looking out the window at the streets below. He turned around to face the two shortly after they walked in.

"Well....looks like the gang is all here. I believe you know why you're all here. The Deputy Mayor has been kidnapped. I know normally that we wouldn't all come together, but this is too important to ignore."

Rodger vaguely took note of how different Chuck looked in his human form, rather than the demon form he'd seen him in every other time, but said nothing. He listened, alert and attentive, but unsure of what he was being asked to do to help deal with the situation, beyond casting some spell or another.

"Chuck" then turned to Rodger.

"Well Rodger...I think it's time you began to prove yourself. You've been a silent standy up until now. Seeing as you are The Wizard in our little game, you could also use the spells at your disposal. Look through your spell menus, Rodger. Search for Divination spells...specifically one known as 'Find The Pickled Prize.' Start with that....'

"All right..." Rodger's expression got quite serious as his eyes unfocused and began searching for it. This cataloging system for the spells was among the most maddening filing systems imaginable, some of the time, and finding even familiar spells could be exasperatingly long with the way the menus liked to re-arrange themselves every so often. This was a completely unfamiliar spell.

But with a fair amount of searching, he found it. "Ah, here it is... what do I need to input or target it on?" he asked meekly.

"Imagine the target with the body of a pickle, and the spell will then scry to his location..."

"Target being the deputy mayor?" he asked. Two seconds later, after a mental click, his deep spellcasting voice intoned, "Find the Pickled Prize."

The air a few feet in front of him smoked with tiny black runes before they formed a black oval hanging there, and an image started to come into focus on it like a flat TV screen.

A message popped up in his head, informing him of the percentage of the target that had been pickled. Currently it was at 0%, but the very existence of such a dialog box worried him greatly.

After a few seconds, the display then showed 25%. It appeared that the spell might be able to scry for the Deputy Mayor within a minute, maybe two.

The other clowns looked at Rodger, but their expressions were hard to read.

Rodger watched the black 'screen' and the display in his head, without a clue as to what he should be doing.

"This is a concentration effect," Chuck said quietly. "Maintain your arcane focus, and we should have the Deputy Mayor's location in a matter of moments."

Oh. He hadn't known it required concentration. He focused his mind on the mental image again, holding it in his thoughts. He wondered whether the dialog box meant that he was literally turning the Deputy Mayor into a human pickle as part of the spell effects.

Soon Rodger could see a visage of the Deputy Mayor. The surrounding room was dark. Then something else seemed to happen.

As Rodger concentrated, a map of Weston appeared and an icon in the shape of a pickle began to trace a green line from the Mayor's office and then settle on a series of building in Weston's Industrial section.

Well, that was a relief. He held his concentration, watching, and trusting that one of the others would be able to identify what the indicated building was.

From what Rodger could interpret, he seemed to be held in a building that belonged to a well-known chemical company. It was still dark so it was hard to see if there was anyone else around.

"Is that... Roman-Maus Chemicals?" he asked softly, addressing no one in particular. "Or just close to it?" He maintained his concentration on the scrying image, not wanting to mess this up.

One of the Clown Brigade pointed towards what appeared to be a letter. Chuck then walked over and opened it, and began to read it.

Rodger maintained his concentration on the spell, with some difficulty, listening for anything Chuck revealed from the letter, or any member of the Brigade had to say. He might be the Wizard, but they knew far more about what to do than he did, so any guidance or advice would be paid close attention.

  The letter was simple.  Single spaced, written on a typewriter.

You have 48 hours to accept or decline this offer after you find this.  Destroy the registration office and disband it in Weston, or your deputy mayor will be returned to you one little piece at a time.