Chapter 457: In Which Our Hero, Armed Only With A Sharp Stick And A Bottle Of Port, Uses A Clever Disguise To Defeat A French Patrol

…oh, those easily confused Frenchies!


LOOK! Right down there! TWO Doclopedia entries! I’M BAAAACK!


The Doclopedia #1,099

The Alphabet: I is for…

Ig The Pig

…was the nickname given to Ignacio Perez, a young mutant who lived in Ciudad Juarez. His mutation made him look quite piggish, but it also made him very tough and an excellent problem solver. Life in his neighborhood was not easy for most mutants. There was teasing and beatings and the well known oppression of the Catholic Church to deal with. Ig survived all of it and helped other mutants when he could.

Eventually, his problem solving skills, toughness and compassion for the less fortunate lead him to become a private eye. He was quite successful and eventually hired other mutants with useful abilities. Naturally, the police and organized crime (pretty much one and the same) came to hate and fear him. Several attempts were made on his life, with the explosion of his office building finally killing him. Well, everyone assumes he is dead. Very few body parts were found, since the explosion was powerful and the resulting fire was very intense.

But just a few months later, cops and mobsters started turning up dead. Most looked like they had been scared to death. A few had committed suicide. There were never any witnesses. A small plastic pig was found on each body. Soon, rumors of “The Ghost Pig” began to circulate.

Crime in Ciudad Juarez is now at an all time low. The killings continue.

Invisible Armor

…is what you want, daughters. It’s tough as troll hide, much lighter than plate mail and nobody but you can see it! The look on some big dumb barbarians face when his sword bounces off your apparently bikini clad body is priceless. Oh my, I remember the time we fought those Red Forest raiders…you recall that, don’t you, Kaareen?…and they came at us with lust in their eyes and only light clubs in their hands. They thought to beat us down and have their way with us. Oh, what a surprise they got! Later, as they pulled our wagon the 100 miles to Ekarris, we laughed and laughed.

Now, you won’t have an easy time getting such armor, but if you’re willing to kill a few trolls, gather up some red Ice Moss from atop Deathspire Peak, then look up the wizard Gabriella in her castle deep in the Western Wastes, you can have a full suit of it in a few months. It shouldn’t cost more than a few thousand gold rounds.

Believe me, it will be the best money you’ve ever spent.

The Doclopedia #1,100

The Alphabet: J is for…

Jewels Of The Night
…are not, as one might think, actual gems. They are instead a group of young female thieves who operate out of Madrid, Spain, and have been the source of two of Sherlock Holmes more colorful cases. Unfortunately, as per my friend’s wishes, I cannot yet recount the tale of the Sleeping Countess or that of the Barnwell Ghost. I can, however, give a brief description of the Jewels Of The Night.

They are comprised of anywhere from 9 to 15 young ladies, many from old and respected families, who have fallen under the sway of that Mistress of Crime, Andromeda Andropolis. She and her cohorts have fashioned these girls into a company of thieves of the highest skill.

They target only the most valuable and supposedly theft proof items, often stealing them when many people are about. The police are left dumbfounded, something that my friend notes is not a noteworthy accomplishment. Few clues are left behind, although in the two cases mentioned above, they did leave notes for Holmes. While he finds the Jewels Of The Night to be excellent foes, he has vowed to bring them to justice sooner or later.


…runs Junktown, don’t he? Not a bad bloke, if ya stay on his good side. If ya cross him, well, it don’t go well at all, ya know?

So, when ya get to Junktown, ya goes straight on up the hill to see him. He takes a look at what junk ya brought, then he offers ya a fair price. Sometimes, if ya got something he really likes, he’ll offer ya a lot more. That happened with me an’ Reg a few months back when we brought in a bit of some old computer stuff. Junkmaster looked at it and told us he’d give fifty silvers. Fifty! We thanked him an’ took it, we did. Helped our village out right sweet, it did.

Junkmaster is a big bloke, maybe seven feet tall. Dark skinned, maybe half blackfella. Looks like he might be about 40. He’s got muscles an’ is right dangerous in a scrap. Most of the time, he’s smilin’ an’ friendly. If he ain’t smilin’, ya might want to come back another day.