Case: Chobbin's Chamber Pots & Bits

MISSING!

The paychest of Chobbin's Chamber Pots & Bits

has been lost as it was being delivered to the

Oldentown Bank last night by my nephew.

The lad was walking somewhere around the 

neighbouring blocks when he got scared

by an astonishingly violent and aggressive

alley cat. He dropped the coffer and went hiding.

Whoever brings the coffer back to Chobbin's Chamber

Pots & Bits will be handsomely rewarded, as the butique's 

future depends on the discovery of the chest.

Please help!

Sincerely,

-Mark Chobbin

"Interesting..." Roderick mumbled into his longcoat's collar as he read then note on the wall. What an excellent chance to gain some fame and fortune for Usher's Investigations!  He tore down the note, folded it carefully and slid it inside his coat. He needed no competition on this case. His office must have the reward.

Gazing around if anyone else on the street had seen the note, Roderick pulled up his collar and walked away. He had been the first. He headed back to the office down at the corner of Grumblebeard District and Tumult Street. The Brothers would need to be rounded up for an immediate operation in southern Oldentown!

The city block around Chobbin's Chamber Pots & Bits was quiet. It always was. The area had nothing but residences here, and Chobbin's lonely shop was up and running only just. People needed their chamber pots, after all.

Out there in the middle of a sideways street, an abandoned coffer was lying on the cobbles. Two weeks worth of the local butique's income was stored away inside, waiting for someone to claim it. It wasn't much.

Soon the silence of the block was broken by not one, but two gangs showing up at the same time.

Usher spat on the ground as he peered behind the corner, spotting movement on the other side of the square.
"Damn our luck. We're not alone."
"Who could possibly have heard of this paychest? You said you took down the announcement, yes?" Father Eli demanded, turning his prayer book around in his hands.
"I did, but it might be word has spread by mouth," Roderick grimaced.
"Never a peaceful day in the office."

"What do you propose we do?" asked Brother Ashton, standing beside Eli with his javelins slung across his back.
"We parley?"
"NO!" Roderick blurted out.
"We do not discuss office's matters with outsiders. Never. I go and snatch the chest, you will cover my back. Understood?"
The men of the Brotherhood nodded.

Usher took a deep breath and ran onto the square with a couple of swift strides. He grabbed one of the chest's handles and lifted it up almost accidentally.
"Oh my! This thing is emptier than I thought..."

Suddenly there was movement all around them in the streets, with half-hidden humanoid forms skittering about in the alleys.
"Halt! Drop the chest and walk away, you greedy sir! Put it down and let us handle it!"
The shout came from a figure walking onto the street beside Usher, a lean young man... with a rat's face.
"Wha-?!" Roderick gasped.
"You... you speak Puffspiel?" he asked incredulously, staring at the man-rat standing tall in front of him. More of them were moving in the background, arquebuses trained straight at him.
"Of course I do! And it seems so do you, although your attire doesn't suggest even that much intellect," the swordsratman shot back.

"I'll never hand over people's hard-earned silver to... things... like you. Never!" Roderick barked, reaching for his pistol. The swordsratman lunged at him, with another coming from behind him along with a small dog.

The swordsratman slammed Usher's pistol aside as he closed in, sending it clattering away into the street gutter. Roderick dropped the chest and swung out his greatsword, but the dog was hanging rather annoyingly on the side of his boot. A sword slashed across his thigh from behind him.
"Curse you, cowardly rats!" he roared as he spun about and sent the attacker sprawling on the cobbles with a well-placed swordstrike.

Father Eli was just about to go to Usher's aid when a mounted ratman galloped from behind the corner and swung a longsword at their necks. Eli ducked and dodged the blow, while Ashton managed to turn aside the strike with the javelin he'd already taken out.

More blows rained down on Usher from all sides, and he busied himself parrying them. When the dog came at him once more, the Investigator had had enough.
"Curse you too, you rat-loving canine! Off with you!"
He swung his greatblade, shattering the barrel on the dog's back and striking spark from it metal bindings.

CH-DUM!

The keg of rum strapped onto the beast went off in a gust of strong alcoholic bewerage, sending Usher, the dog and the remaining swordsratman onto their backs. None of them rose up even when the mist settled.

"Roderick!" Father Eli cried out as he heard the explosion and cast a quick gaze in its direction.
"I must retrieve the chest, Brother. Hold him here!" he commanded, running off to fetch the coffer.
"Alright! I'll hold hi–" Brother Ashton's reply was cut off as the horseratman's longsword flashed in the evening sun and sent him to the ground.

Two shots rang out in the streets and sent up dust from the house wall right next to Eli. Those damned arquebusiers. On the run he recited a prayer, a litany of vengeance and justice that made one of the rat-gunner's eyes glow blue for a moment. The ratman dropped its gun and fell writhing on its back as the prayer worked its effects.

Eli grabbed the chest under one arm and ran off to the east, hoping to get into safety before the rats caught him. The sound of hooves drumming on the cobblestones was growing louder by the moment.

Yet another shot rang out, striking off the palm of the bronze duardin statue on the square. Father Eli had almost reached the safety of the nearby alley, knowing that the gunner had no more time to reload, when the horseman rode in.

A longsword came arcing down on the priest, but he brushed it aside with his hammer. Eli's return blow glanced off the horse's barding, leaving not even a dent.
"By Sigmar, how can folk like you afford such an exquisite piece of armour?!" he wondered aloud as he stepped aside from another swing aimed at his neck.
"Ha-ha! As you can see, it is possible to be both fashionable AND practical!" the rider declared, swinging his sword in large, dramatic arcs above his outrageously well-feathered brim-hat.

In the next few heartbeats the martial exchange was quick. The sword lunged in, but the hammerblow went wide. The rider drew back its blade, its tip dripping blood, and yanked on the reins. The horse reared and brought its front hooves down on Eli, who was holding an arm across his belly. The priest was sent flying on his back.

The horseratman took a glance around the scene and vaulted off his mount, walking up to the coffer lying on the ground. He scooped it up and set off with the remaining gunner to pick up their wounded. Usher's trio was left to resuscitate on their own.

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This battle is part of the Streets of Oldentown campaign.