A new gang has appeared in town, alongside a deadly drug: "Scorpion's Haze". The gang, known as the Red Skorpions for the red bandannas they wear over their faces. They are composed of thieves and thugs, and act as drug dealers and debt collectors for their boss, Takar Orrl.

He is the second in command of the Red Skorpions, the de-facto leader since the real mastermind acts from the shadows. Takar is a drow, a former Dust Devil, and a killer for hire who murders anyone who annoys him. He is extorting 'protection money' from local business, including the famous "Alembical Remedies”.

Alembical Remedies is run by the Count Glim “Badger” Alemb, a wealthy gnome merchant whose family runs a strangely successful pharmacy. The shop has been around for a long time, and is famous for its high quality goods. Secretly he runs the Red Skorpions, and is also a very dangerous loan shark.

Badger has recently made a major discovery. From out east he had imported a giant black pearl, about the size of a man’s head. He used some shavings to craft “Skorpion’s Haze” a drug that creates a blissful cloudy feeling in small quantities, a fleeting high. An overdose or steady buildup however will transform the user to a horrible monstrosity wracked by fiendish hunger.

The Dust Devils have gained information that this is happening, and sent an infiltration team to the caverns below Electrum to destroy it. When the PC’s find the pearl and the infiltration team, it’s already too late…

A new gang has appeared in town, alongside a deadly drug: "Scorpion's Haze". Their leader is a former Dust Devil and a killer for hire who murders anyone who annoys him. He is extorting 'protection money' from local business, including the famous "Alembical Remedies”.

Alembical Remedies is run by the Count Glim “Badger” Alemb, a wealthy gnome merchant whose family runs a strangely successful pharmacy. The shop has been around for a long time, and is famous for its high quality goods.

The Dust Devils have gained information that this is happening, and sent an infiltration team to the caverns below Electrum to stop the Red Skorpions. However, when the PC’s find the infiltration team, it may already be too late…

Chex pulled her boots on.

There were strange sounds coming from the abandoned house next door for the second night in a row. The disappearance of Electrum citizens was unsettling, as was the sudden arrival of the Red Skorpions.

That wasn’t even counting this new drug, Skor, and the horrible whispers that passed around after dark.

She buckled her gun-belt and double checked the straps on her armour before heading out of her room, over the lavish (and slightly flamboyant) carpets that Teddy favoured. The steps did not creak as she ascended to the shop proper, where the delicate sounds of clinking china could be heard. Pulling aside the curtain that separated the living area from the place of business, she was met with the sight of Teddy O’Toole sitting at the worn table, a pot of tea in front of him as well as two steaming cups.

“Sit for a moment Chex, we’re in no rush.” The tailor smiled as he gestured to the seat across from him with a carefully manicured hand. Chex sat.

“Them sounds are unnatural Teddy.” She said as Teddy sipped his tea.

A gurgling howl seemed to punctuate her point but was abruptly cut off, the night silent once more.

There was a rattle of china as Teddy set his cup back in place, the grim look on his boyish face pulled his scar taught. Chex’s tea was untouched. “Maybe we should save the tea for later…” he rasped out.

Chex stood with a nod. “I’ll be on point. Watch m’back and follow my lead. We stick t’gether, no matter what happens – ya hear?” Teddy followed with a smile and a mock salute.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The night was quiet as a grave.

While generally that was a good thing; Chex hated graves, dead things, and undead things even more, the stillness raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

The old house next to O’Toole’s Clothiers and Bee’s Sting had been boarded up for months now. There wasn’t even a discernable door anymore, just a set of rickety stairs leading to a shorn off balcony. The creaking of wood as they ascended was deafening.

The door to the second floor was splintered open, as if something big and metal had cleaved it in twain. The stench of blood and offal crept into Chex’s nose as she stacked up to the doorframe, Teddy taking position on the other side. She steeled herself and with a nod, pushed the remains of the door aside and leapt into the room, her revolver searching out movement.

Nothing. Nothing but bodies and day-old blood. Broken furniture littered the floor, but what really drew her gaze was where the blood was. It stained nearly every surface a

rusty brown. The quiet of the night followed the duo as they approached the steps leading to the ground floor.

As they descended into the darkness, Chex thought she caught a flicker of movement, but all was still when she turned her eyes. She stopped at the base of the stairs, a momentary look of shock on her face. While this room looked much like the one above it, bodies, blood and furniture, what really stood out was the giant rend in the floor, as if a Giant from the Rose Mountains had taken his axe to the stone. A pale blue light emanated from the crevasse, illuminating a rope that looked newly bought and strangely out of place.

She looked at Teddy. Teddy looked at her.

She was the first to descend into the fey glow.

She was not the first to land.

A figure dropped heavily to the ground just before her boots made contact with the horizontal, the dull sound of flesh impacting stone. She whirled towards it, looking with horror if it had the orange-red hair of her companion. She let out a shaky breath when she saw it was just an orc, his body mangled as if ripped apart by a beast.

A snarl broke the tension.

Chex whipped her head towards it, and was met with a sight she never thought she’d see again.

Blue fey lights illuminated four figures crouched over a body wearing a familiar brown duster. The same type of duster she was wearing. They were ripping pieces of bloody flesh and consuming them. Hollow eyes, gaping jaws leaking a mixture of blood and saliva, and a stench… that horribly familiar, sickly-sweet stench of dead men. She was underground, it was dark, and there were things in here with her, eating the flesh of men.

Again. It was happening again.

Her knuckles were white on the handle of her revolver. Her vision had gone red, darkness encroaching at the corners. There was a ringing in her ears and someone was screaming. She realized it was her after the first cluster of bullets burst the head of one of the monstrosities like an overripe desert melon. The rest of the body turned into a red powder.

The figures turned and skittered towards her with unnatural gaits, joints awkwardly twitching as she pulled the trigger faster than ever before.

Ka-click, Ka-click, Ka-click. The hammer only found air.

She threw her revolver at the creature in front of her and drew her baton with a two handed grip. Steadying her stance, she twisted and swung with all her might. The skull of an abomination caved inwards, the head snapping side-ways with an audible pop as the body quickly followed. It slammed against the wall and burst into a cloud of red dust.

She stood, shaking from the effort and confused as to why that had been so easy.

These aren’t undead…

It’s probably why she didn’t notice the flanking third creature until it had bowled her over. Her baton clattered from numb fingers.

She struggled with it, keeping the gaping maw away from her throat with one forearm, batting the scratching fingers away with the other. The amulet at her neck seemed to hum. Her mind had grown calm. This was it. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. No way to escape the past. No way to cheat death, Wee Jas always comes for you in the end.

That’s when a finely crafted knife sprouted from the creature’s eye. She looked on in confusion, blood leaking from the thing’s limp mouth and running down her cheek. The knife was grasped by a delicately muscled hand. Her eyes followed the hand – it was attached to an arm – which was in turn attached to Teddy. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, but otherwise he looked as immaculate as ever.

He placed the heel of a suede shoe against the body and shoved. The knife separated from flesh with a wet squelch and when the body hit the floor, it too crumbled to dust. The remains of the fourth figure were lying against the opposite wall.

A hand was offered to Chex, and it took her a moment to realize she was to grasp it. As she stood, shaken, she looked into Teddy’s one good eye. “Thanks fer that.”

Teddy looked at her, then at the mutilated body of the Dust Devil and smiled a sad smile, “What are friends for?”

The night was dark and quiet – but for the first time in a very long while, it didn’t seem to bother her as much.