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@ -14,6 +14,7 @@ src/epistolary/00061.md
src/epistolary/00062.md src/epistolary/00062.md
src/epistolary/00063.md src/epistolary/00063.md
src/epistolary/00064.md src/epistolary/00064.md
src/epistolary/00065.md
src/notes.md src/notes.md
src/acknowledgements.md src/acknowledgements.md
src/afterword.md src/afterword.md

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---
title: 00065
created: Tue, 21 Feb 2023 14:02:22 -0700
updated: Tue, 21 Feb 2023 14:02:22 -0700
public: yes
syndicated: yes
---
### 00065 {#00065}
Marvelo fetched a fluffy blanket from the piles of blankets and
pillows in the ritual room where the dreamers continue to sleep. He
has wrapped up the child and is drying them off. The sound of rain
continues to drum incessantly outside.
"Poor thing, you're chilled to the bone. Don't worry, Uncle Marv will
take care of you. There we go. Fix you right up!"
The child is still and silent. It has not made a noise this whole
time. Nor has it acted on its own to actually do anything besides
stare up at Marvelo with wide, dark eyes.
"How did you end up outside by yourself in the rain, hmm? No? That's
okay. What about your name? Have you got a name?"
"Rind," says a voice behind Marvelo. At the sound of its name, the
child's eyes flick over Marvelo's shoulder. The mercenary starts to
spin around even as the blanket writhes in his hands, wrapping itself
around his wrists and binding them tightly together.
"Hungh!" he cries out wordlessly and tucks into a roll, turning to
face his assailant and---he hopes---dodging any potential attack from
behind. And also putting some distance between himself and the child
to get it out of harms way.
Marvelo tries to push up to his knees as cords of rope snake their
way out of the shadows and coil around his knees and elbows. He
struggles to pull free of them. A thicker rope wraps around his
waist, and another squeezes around his chest and back. The ropes
contract and pull Marvelo into a ball. He groans and falls to his
side. He looks up into the eyes of a man wearing a bright red sash.
The child has tottled over to the man and reaches its arms up. The
man scoops the child up and holds it in the crook of one arm. The
child puts its arms around the man's neck and looks down at Marvelo
while resting its cheek on the man's chest.
"His name is Rind," the man smiles.
> Feeling bedraggled yet dry despite having been submerged under water,
> Inky lays on the beach, staring up at the sky before sitting up and
> looking around the landscape. They are now attired in a hooded azure
> blue vest over red shirt and shorts, and blue shoes over mismatched
> knee-high stockings. Their auburn hair is tied back with the
> drawstrings from an attached small pouch. A plush toy resembling a
> certain floofy duck peeks out from the hood.
>
> They sense a soft weight land on one shoulder, and smile as Fuko nips
> at their ear, no doubt partly in reproach for wandering off again
> without her, and maybe partly meant to be reassuring. This is
> followed several moments later by a low hiss and a series of light
> taps next to Inky's ear with her beak. Inky murmurs, "Is that so … we
> should call it a wrap soon. Master Alex would probably be happy
> having Big Bother to himself anyway, to grill as he likes."
>
> After a very long minute, Inky sighs and taking out a piece of paper
> and pencil from their suitcase, scribbles a "pome":
>
> ```
> Island tower of towers
> Nowhere everywhere the sea
> Keep your apples and flowers
> Your suitor has come for thee
> ```
>
> They roll up the paper and tuck it into a small and clear glass
> bottle with a cork stopper. Murmuring the sysorcerer's name to the
> bottle, they lower it into the water and watch as the bottle drifts
> into the distance.
>
> Walking along the shoreline and stopping a short distance from the
> lone figure, Inky says casually, "Good day, fellow thing-finder."
The figure turns in your direction and lowers their hood revealing a
long, hooked, black beak and a face covered in black feathers. Beady
black eyes regard you without blinking.
The feathers around its throat bristle when it speaks like a thick
bristling beard.
"Greetings, Dreamer, and welcome to Ephemeris, the Heart of the
Dreaming. What brings you to the Throne of Konsu?"
> Well Kasutva, I may as well trust you. I imagine if you meant me harm
> there are more direct and interesting ways to harm me than to
> misguide me. Give me a moment to collect myself, I've never been much
> for swimming you see, learned late and was always deathly afraid as a
> child. Dreadful stuff really.
>
> Alex steps away briefly to the edge of the pier and looks into the
> Azure blue ocean, a swirl of unending blue depth. Still not my thing,
> Alex mutters to himself. As he steels himself he notices a bottle
> adrift, nearing the pier. As it comes closer, he plucks it from the
> water, decorks it and inspects the note inside.
>
> "What does it say" the little Kasutva inquires.
>
> "Oh nothing, just someone trying to get in contact about our floating
> pirateships extended warranty" Alex replies bruskly. This definitely
> must have come from Inky Alex thinks to himself. They must have found
> the way.
>
> "Look Kasutva, this has been great fun, but I really think I ought to
> be going, not really sure that a sea of anyones dreams is my sort of
> thing and all that. And I seem ot have done not but create a mess of
> things" Alex says as he gestures to the wreckage of the Mech. Alex
> gestures in the air before him, a small split keyboard appears in
> front of him and he types out a few short commands.
>
> > ```
> > cat > /home/inky/messages/urgent <<EOF
> > Got your message
> > In a bit of a bind, wrapped up with some weird mushroom guy who wants to go for a swim.
> > Not sure how to handle it, but I might have to dip back to the real world and let you finish here.
> > I've made a write mess of things, but I trust you can finish this.
> >
> > Oh, see attached, if you get into a pinch just use this spell, it'll get you what you need.
> >
> > grep -A4 AID ~/messages/urgent | sed 's/AID//' | sh
> >
> > AID
> > 4b1af3fcf4ce005ef86d83c45713ba1a548b4e79da09a6d44632cdb6c5917489
> > d7d500fa37b986d931b70e114b4e67375b10b373aa6649641e7132e8b3dc7d18
> > ef6efe98ffd070f486c00b4f50d8bf1448414ef9c2fabe0cacd40bebafba8a02
> > 1d0d1bf0188b842d9ae08b9b37b0f266936ef38b8f07e5c90e4a9351bf018898
> > EOF
> > ```
>
> "Right!" Alex exclaims startling the little Kasutva accidentally.
> "Time for me to head back to the real world. Anything you need from
> me before I head out? Oh also, can I take the ak74u? I think I might
> need it."
"Back ... back to the waking world?" Mushroom Kasutva stammers.
"But..."
It looks out at the sea with a look of longing, confusion, and
frustration. "But we were finally going to see Ephemeris," they say
almost wistfully.
"You were going to take us to Ephemeris!" they shout at you, suddenly
angry.
Mushroom Kasutva screws up its face and roars in rage as it rushes at
you and tries to shove you over the edge of the pier into the waters
below.
But Kasutva is less than a foot tall and quite ineffective at shoving
a human-sized person such as Alex.
Big Kasutva, on the otherhand, is roughly twelve feet tall and quite
capable of manhandling a human-sized person.
You look up in time to jerk back out of the way as they swipe at your
chest with their face-removing knife. It was all a feint though. As
soon as you are slightly off balance from dodging their attack, they
reach out with their other hand and give you a shove.
You trip over Mushroom Kasutva, who has positioned themself in just
such a way to best tangle up your feet. You stumble backwards a few
steps until one of your feet steps out into open air. You twist and
and look behind you as Ousia rises up to meet you.
Kasutva clings to your leg as you fall, crying. "We're sorry. We're
sorry," they say over and over as you are pulled below the waves.
WHAT DO YOU DO

143
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@ -288,6 +288,7 @@
<li><a href="#00062" id="toc-00062">00062</a></li> <li><a href="#00062" id="toc-00062">00062</a></li>
<li><a href="#00063" id="toc-00063">00063</a></li> <li><a href="#00063" id="toc-00063">00063</a></li>
<li><a href="#00064" id="toc-00064">00064</a></li> <li><a href="#00064" id="toc-00064">00064</a></li>
<li><a href="#00065" id="toc-00065">00065</a></li>
</ul></li> </ul></li>
<li><a href="#afterword" id="toc-afterword">Afterword</a></li> <li><a href="#afterword" id="toc-afterword">Afterword</a></li>
<li><a href="#appendix-a-dramatis-personae" <li><a href="#appendix-a-dramatis-personae"
@ -361,11 +362,11 @@ into the <a href="#current-story">current story arc</a>.</p>
you can <a href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml">subscribe to you can <a href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml">subscribe to
the rss feed</a>.</p> the rss feed</a>.</p>
<h2 id="stats">Stats</h2> <h2 id="stats">Stats</h2>
<p>Total length: 82674 words / 353 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the <p>Total length: 83975 words / 358 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the
length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not
just the story.)</p> just the story.)</p>
<p>There have been 223 messages posted over 222 days since the first <p>There have been 226 messages posted over 228 days since the first
post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.00.</p> post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .99.</p>
<h2 id="chapter-1">Chapter 1</h2> <h2 id="chapter-1">Chapter 1</h2>
<p>This is the first installment of BASEMENT QUEST.</p> <p>This is the first installment of BASEMENT QUEST.</p>
<p>Jump to: <a href="#00001">1</a> <a href="#00002">2</a> <a <p>Jump to: <a href="#00001">1</a> <a href="#00002">2</a> <a
@ -6856,6 +6857,142 @@ you up and carry you to Ephemeris.”</p>
<p>It hops up to you and extends itself in a clear request, despite its <p>It hops up to you and extends itself in a clear request, despite its
lack of limbs, that it wants you to pick it up.</p> lack of limbs, that it wants you to pick it up.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p> <p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<h3 id="00065">00065</h3>
<p>Marvelo fetched a fluffy blanket from the piles of blankets and
pillows in the ritual room where the dreamers continue to sleep. He has
wrapped up the child and is drying them off. The sound of rain continues
to drum incessantly outside.</p>
<p>“Poor thing, you’re chilled to the bone. Don’t worry, Uncle Marv will
take care of you. There we go. Fix you right up!”</p>
<p>The child is still and silent. It has not made a noise this whole
time. Nor has it acted on its own to actually do anything besides stare
up at Marvelo with wide, dark eyes.</p>
<p>“How did you end up outside by yourself in the rain, hmm? No? That’s
okay. What about your name? Have you got a name?”</p>
<p>“Rind,” says a voice behind Marvelo. At the sound of its name, the
child’s eyes flick over Marvelo’s shoulder. The mercenary starts to spin
around even as the blanket writhes in his hands, wrapping itself around
his wrists and binding them tightly together.</p>
<p>“Hungh!” he cries out wordlessly and tucks into a roll, turning to
face his assailant and—he hopes—dodging any potential attack from
behind. And also putting some distance between himself and the child to
get it out of harms way.</p>
<p>Marvelo tries to push up to his knees as cords of rope snake their
way out of the shadows and coil around his knees and elbows. He
struggles to pull free of them. A thicker rope wraps around his waist,
and another squeezes around his chest and back. The ropes contract and
pull Marvelo into a ball. He groans and falls to his side. He looks up
into the eyes of a man wearing a bright red sash.</p>
<p>The child has tottled over to the man and reaches its arms up. The
man scoops the child up and holds it in the crook of one arm. The child
puts its arms around the man’s neck and looks down at Marvelo while
resting its cheek on the man’s chest.</p>
<p>“His name is Rind,” the man smiles.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Feeling bedraggled yet dry despite having been submerged under water,
Inky lays on the beach, staring up at the sky before sitting up and
looking around the landscape. They are now attired in a hooded azure
blue vest over red shirt and shorts, and blue shoes over mismatched
knee-high stockings. Their auburn hair is tied back with the drawstrings
from an attached small pouch. A plush toy resembling a certain floofy
duck peeks out from the hood.</p>
<p>They sense a soft weight land on one shoulder, and smile as Fuko nips
at their ear, no doubt partly in reproach for wandering off again
without her, and maybe partly meant to be reassuring. This is followed
several moments later by a low hiss and a series of light taps next to
Inky’s ear with her beak. Inky murmurs, “Is that so … we should call it
a wrap soon. Master Alex would probably be happy having Big Bother to
himself anyway, to grill as he likes.”</p>
<p>After a very long minute, Inky sighs and taking out a piece of paper
and pencil from their suitcase, scribbles a “pome”:</p>
<pre><code>Island tower of towers
Nowhere everywhere the sea
Keep your apples and flowers
Your suitor has come for thee</code></pre>
<p>They roll up the paper and tuck it into a small and clear glass
bottle with a cork stopper. Murmuring the sysorcerer’s name to the
bottle, they lower it into the water and watch as the bottle drifts into
the distance.</p>
<p>Walking along the shoreline and stopping a short distance from the
lone figure, Inky says casually, “Good day, fellow thing-finder.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The figure turns in your direction and lowers their hood revealing a
long, hooked, black beak and a face covered in black feathers. Beady
black eyes regard you without blinking.</p>
<p>The feathers around its throat bristle when it speaks like a thick
bristling beard.</p>
<p>“Greetings, Dreamer, and welcome to Ephemeris, the Heart of the
Dreaming. What brings you to the Throne of Konsu?”</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Well Kasutva, I may as well trust you. I imagine if you meant me harm
there are more direct and interesting ways to harm me than to misguide
me. Give me a moment to collect myself, I’ve never been much for
swimming you see, learned late and was always deathly afraid as a child.
Dreadful stuff really.</p>
<p>Alex steps away briefly to the edge of the pier and looks into the
Azure blue ocean, a swirl of unending blue depth. Still not my thing,
Alex mutters to himself. As he steels himself he notices a bottle
adrift, nearing the pier. As it comes closer, he plucks it from the
water, decorks it and inspects the note inside.</p>
<p>“What does it say” the little Kasutva inquires.</p>
<p>“Oh nothing, just someone trying to get in contact about our floating
pirateships extended warranty” Alex replies bruskly. This definitely
must have come from Inky Alex thinks to himself. They must have found
the way.</p>
<p>“Look Kasutva, this has been great fun, but I really think I ought to
be going, not really sure that a sea of anyones dreams is my sort of
thing and all that. And I seem ot have done not but create a mess of
things” Alex says as he gestures to the wreckage of the Mech. Alex
gestures in the air before him, a small split keyboard appears in front
of him and he types out a few short commands.</p>
<blockquote>
<pre><code>cat &gt; /home/inky/messages/urgent &lt;&lt;EOF
Got your message
In a bit of a bind, wrapped up with some weird mushroom guy who wants to go for a swim.
Not sure how to handle it, but I might have to dip back to the real world and let you finish here.
I&#39;ve made a write mess of things, but I trust you can finish this.
Oh, see attached, if you get into a pinch just use this spell, it&#39;ll get you what you need.
grep -A4 AID ~/messages/urgent | sed &#39;s/AID//&#39; | sh
AID
4b1af3fcf4ce005ef86d83c45713ba1a548b4e79da09a6d44632cdb6c5917489
d7d500fa37b986d931b70e114b4e67375b10b373aa6649641e7132e8b3dc7d18
ef6efe98ffd070f486c00b4f50d8bf1448414ef9c2fabe0cacd40bebafba8a02
1d0d1bf0188b842d9ae08b9b37b0f266936ef38b8f07e5c90e4a9351bf018898
EOF</code></pre>
</blockquote>
<p>“Right!” Alex exclaims startling the little Kasutva accidentally.
“Time for me to head back to the real world. Anything you need from me
before I head out? Oh also, can I take the ak74u? I think I might need
it.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“Back … back to the waking world?” Mushroom Kasutva stammers.
“But…”</p>
<p>It looks out at the sea with a look of longing, confusion, and
frustration. “But we were finally going to see Ephemeris,” they say
almost wistfully.</p>
<p>“You were going to take us to Ephemeris!” they shout at you, suddenly
angry.</p>
<p>Mushroom Kasutva screws up its face and roars in rage as it rushes at
you and tries to shove you over the edge of the pier into the waters
below.</p>
<p>But Kasutva is less than a foot tall and quite ineffective at shoving
a human-sized person such as Alex.</p>
<p>Big Kasutva, on the otherhand, is roughly twelve feet tall and quite
capable of manhandling a human-sized person.</p>
<p>You look up in time to jerk back out of the way as they swipe at your
chest with their face-removing knife. It was all a feint though. As soon
as you are slightly off balance from dodging their attack, they reach
out with their other hand and give you a shove.</p>
<p>You trip over Mushroom Kasutva, who has positioned themself in just
such a way to best tangle up your feet. You stumble backwards a few
steps until one of your feet steps out into open air. You twist and and
look behind you as Ousia rises up to meet you.</p>
<p>Kasutva clings to your leg as you fall, crying. “We’re sorry. We’re
sorry,” they say over and over as you are pulled below the waves.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<h2 id="afterword">Afterword</h2> <h2 id="afterword">Afterword</h2>
<p>I don’t know what I’m going to put here, but I didn’t want this <p>I don’t know what I’m going to put here, but I didn’t want this
document to just abruptly end. So here you go: a kind farewell and a document to just abruptly end. So here you go: a kind farewell and a

825
www/rss.xml
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@ -235,59 +235,6 @@ And Fortune said it shou&#39;d be you. Puu.&quot;</code></pre>
]]> ]]>
</description> </description>
</item> </item>
<item>
<title>61</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">61 - Mon, 06 Feb 2023 09:59:55
-0700</guid>
<pubDate>Mon, 06 Feb 2023 09:59:55 -0700</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00061">00061</h3>
<p>Alex the Octopus and Inky the Noogle stand on a tree branch
as wide a street in the heart of the great white upside-down
forest.</p>
<p>A cry of anguish and anger echoes through the forest, and
the branches below you sway and rustle as something rises up
from the depths. You keep catching a glimpse of scarlet
between the silvery white leaves.</p>
<p>The large black ravens perched below you scream in
agitation and fly up past you to the thicker branches up
above, where they hop side to side and loudly scold and
protest the disturbance. A single black feather the length of
your hand settles to the ground at your feet, knocked loose
during their flight.</p>
<p>You finally see the fearsome beast crashing through the
branches below you. Its crazed, yellow eyes as large and round
as dinner plates, a great eight-legged rodent leaps from
branch to branch as it swiftly ascends. It is a bloody,
crimson red. Its long tufted ears lay flat against its
elongated, grinning skull. Its ribbon-like tail twitches as it
trails along behind it like a river of blood. It cries out
again in anger, showing its overgrown incisors, and grinds and
gnashes its back teeth.</p>
<p>Its eyes bore into you with wild fury and blind madness as
it climbs.</p>
<p>“She’s not herself,” sighs the chipmunk, suddenly at your
side once more. When you look down at the chipmunk, however,
it has suddenly turned into a small featureless black turtle
with a sticky sweet roll instead of a shell. Its smooth little
head pokes timidly out of the roll.</p>
<p>“The Red Squirrel,” laments the turtle. “She’s being ridden
by a ghost. An angry ghost who isn’t from here. Somebody left
the door open, and it blew in on the breeze.” The turtle’s
voice trails off until its final words are barely a
whisper.</p>
<p>You can still feel two currents tugging at you and trying
to pull you under. One inward toward your host’s deep, core
memories. And the second pulling you outward toward the Sea of
Dreams.</p>
<p>You have but a moment before the Red Squirrel is upon
you.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item> <item>
<title>59</title> <title>59</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author> <author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
@ -386,6 +333,284 @@ trap sleep INT EXIT</code></pre>
]]> ]]>
</description> </description>
</item> </item>
<item>
<title>56</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">56 - Mon, 16 Jan 2023 14:10:25
-0700</guid>
<pubDate>Mon, 16 Jan 2023 14:10:25 -0700</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00056">00056</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>The agitation Alex feels bubbles just beneath the surface.
Patterns where patterns shouldn’t be, strange orders from HQ,
indifference where once was ample aide as well. It was
maddening. Combine it all with the haunting suspicion that
there was constantly someone just around the next corner, and
it was enough to truly drive Alex mad.</p>
<p>That uneasiness takes its toll on a long enough time line,
but Alex wasn’t about to let it get to him. Or so he thought
to himself as he cast a furtive look at his monitoring
equipment. This paranoia had served him well in the past, very
well in fact. It’s a sort of sixth sense in a way, always kept
Alex off the edge of the cliff, especially when someone
stepped close enough to push him off. Those were the types of
skills HQ sought after in the first place.</p>
<p>Alex closes the iron door on his bunker, leaving his
monitoring equipment running, dead man’s trigger set to blow
the place shoul anyone enter it. Can’t be too careful these
days..</p>
<p>Emerging from the sewer grate, sticking to the shadows,
Alex makes his way down an alley, then another, and yet
another, finally emerging a few blocks from the Milk Market.
Across the street, as he had expected, was Marvelo’s Marvelous
MurderSticks, a quaint place should one needed something, well
you get the picture, they don’t really sell anything but
weaponry here.</p>
<p>Alex ducked into the entrance of the shop and strode
towards the back rack, where a collection of knives was on
display. A rough looking fellow, ruddy red beard, thinning
hair, moved from the counter as he saw Alex approach. “Fine
sampling of knives we have, could I interest you in one?”
Marvelo says. Alex reaches for a thin stilleto style dagger,
and hands it to Marvelo “This one seems about right, but I’d
like an extra sharp edge put on it, if you don’t mind”.
Marvelo takes the stilleto from Alex say “Not a problem at all
sir”, and he heads into the back.</p>
<p>He sets to work honing the edge, and once complete he
places it on his work bench. Grabbing a velvet lined case from
a stack, he deftly removes the bottom and places a rolled
piece of paper into the bottom, alongside an m1911 style
pistol, and a couple of clips of ammo. He then places the
velvet bottom back over the equipment, and places the stilleto
on top, bringing the entire package back to the front. “An
extra fine edge on this one sir, that’ll be 15 gold, plus
another 5 to cover the service.</p>
<p>Alex pays, and nips out the shop and heads back to the back
alley. Paranoia begets what it requets, Alex mutters to
himself as he disassembles the box holstering the pistol and
ammo, and sheathing the dagger. Can’t keep going unarmed like
I’m some kind of beat cop, not anymore.. Alex discards the
case and unfurls the message, quickly deciphering the
encryption set on it by Marvelo.</p>
<pre><code>The hunt is still on, no word on Blavin nor the Iris group, yet.
Agent 7 heard rumor of a couple of persons inquiring about the &quot;Milk Market&quot; these past few days.
Agent 3 heard similar rumors, was able to bribe a melon vendor to acertain the figure wore a red sash, and was looking for friends.
Agent 6 has kept watch on the Market, nothing strange yet, coming and goings as usual, no strange visitors
Agent 4 monitoring feeds still present glitches, something abnormal
Agent 5 found the melon vendor dead in a back alley, strangled to death, not immediate signs of blunt force trauma, caution advised</code></pre>
<p>Alex burned the note, striding rapidly away from the alley,
taking a meandering route away from the Milk Market, looping
back around, and heading back towards it by yet another.
Nobody appeared to be following him, yet he paused at each
corner and turn, waiting for the footsteps of a pursuant.</p>
<p>Noting nothing, he made his way through the back entrance
of Enrique’s Empanadas greeting the cook quietly, but jovial.
“Enrique, where’s Inky? We’ve got a problem.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky skims the page. They thank the witch, pay for the
items and exit the shop, promptly discarding all notions of
meeting Bother at the place stipulated on the note.</p>
<p><em>(Half and one hour later)</em></p>
<p>One-sixths into a caramel cantaloupe cream cornet, Inky
runs into Confidence outside the Wandering Bazaar and obtains
some of their new pamphlets, minted with luminescent ink for
the convenience of late-night tourists. These are subsequently
hare-mailed to every editor at the <em>Niuewstijl</em> office,
which is almost certain to earn another chiding remark from
Tess about etiquette and the handling of unsolicited bulk mail
to parent editorial teams.</p>
<p><em>(Half and two hours later)</em></p>
<p>The installation on display at the Milk Market was
grotesque — that is to say, a work of beauty. Inky steps
carefully through the rooms to not disturb the piece.
Afterwards, they sign the guestbook set up on an upturned milk
crate by the door, delightedly pasting rows of horse head and
thumbs-up emo Gs on a page thoughtfully titled “you can’t ed
the unedible”.</p>
<p><em>(Half and three hours earlier)</em></p>
<p>Thanking Agate for her time, Inky passes her a sheet of
paper on which were written a few questions about the
prescribed ritual, with some space after each question should
the witch prefer to scribble a response:</p>
<ul>
<li><p>What do guides in the Sea of Dreams and the Ravenfolk
typically seek in return for directing travellers to the
correct pocket dimension?</p></li>
<li><p>An establishment inside the Bazaar is only open in the
evenings whenever it appears in the city. How long does travel
to a pocket dimension typically take, allowing for time to
seek out a guide? Is there a way travellers can estimate the
time to set out on their journey, in order to arrive at the
establishment while it is open?</p></li>
<li><p>Who are the Red Spider and “Dude 215R” mentioned in the
ritual? How can travellers avoid summoning them?</p></li>
<li><p>Would anything happen to the travellers if any of the
sigils were removed during the ritual before they wake
up?</p></li>
</ul>
<p><em>(Half and four hours later)</em></p>
<p>Two sets of eyes peer down at the contents of an open tin.
One accompanied by a focused look and a little trepidation,
following the pinkish, flesh-like chunks speckled with white
pockets of fat as they tumble into a hot pan and almost
immediately begin to move of their own accord. The moving
mounds resemble small round mouths opening, each with a rim of
sharp teeth. The other pair of eyes belongs to a grinning face
that beams when the mounds bloom into bright red flat caps,
the edges beneath about to soften in the olive oil.</p>
<p>Minutes after, The slices are ready. Inky accepts the plate
of tostada with spicy pickled artichoke mushrooms and tomatoes
with a murmur of thanks. Reassembling the recipe for the
tinned spicy artichoke mushrooms had been a tedious process —
someone had ripped out the pages from an old pickling book
that had long ceased publication. Eventually Inky found a
former nomad who had eaten them for two years in their youth
and could recall or somewhat describe the taste. Flowery and
savoury, they said. Many taste tests later, it turned out to
be closer to partially decomposed cheese in ponderosa lemon
juice. Canning was fortuitously easier with the increasing
portability of sealers. Rather than telling the empanada chef
any of this, Inky watches satisfaction slowly spread across
his face. The tale that follows is far more entertaining.</p>
<p><em>(Half and five hours later)</em></p>
<p>While measuring out ingredients for the forty-second tea
infusion since the start of the missions, not that Inky was
keeping a close count, they hear a familiar voice a short
distance outside the door asking for their whereabouts.
Without pausing in their whisking, Inky simply informs the
owner of the voice they’re not here, obviously, before
emerging from the storage pantry with a fresh pot and bowls on
a wooden tray, and greets the returning sysorcerer.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Agate writes back quickly:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>What do guides in the Sea of Dreams and the Ravenfolk
typically seek in return for directing travellers to the
correct pocket dimension?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Intangibles. Usually memories, hopes, or dreams.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>An establishment inside the Bazaar is only open in the
evenings whenever it appears in the city. How long does travel
to a pocket dimension typically take, allowing for time to
seek out a guide? Is there a way travellers can estimate the
time to set out on their journey, in order to arrive at the
establishment while it is open?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You’ll find that time is rather malleable on the Otherside.
You’ll likely arrive exactly when you’re meant to. No need to
worry too much about it.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Who are the Red Spider and “Dude 215R” mentioned in the
ritual? How can travellers avoid summoning them?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Godforms manifested by the Linking Sigil and the Dream
Sigil, respectively. It’s not <em>terrible</em> if they show
up. But it’s definitely not ideal. You shouldn’t register on
their radar as long as you don’t pump too much energy into, or
siphon to much energy out of, the sigils. If they do show up,
just know that you’re in the presence of a godlike power, and
behave accordingly.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Would anything happen to the travellers if any of the
sigils were removed during the ritual before they wake up?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>If the sigils are removed or if the circle is broken,
you’ll likely just wake up before you wanted to. Same goes for
if your dreamform is destroyed while in the Dreaming. The only
real danger you may encounter is the Scissormen and their ilk.
They will attempt to permanently sever your dreamform from
your waking body. Which would leave your body a soulless husk,
and leave your consciousness adrift in the Sea of Dreams. But
that probably won’t happen! Okay good luck, have fun!</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>60</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">60 - Tue, 31 Jan 2023 19:11:47
-0700</guid>
<pubDate>Tue, 31 Jan 2023 19:11:48 -0700</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00060">00060</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>Alex takes inventory of himself, this dream world is
definitely strange, but fortunately its decided to provide him
with his impecable fashion, trench coat and all. Unfortunately
the same can’t be said for his roguish good looks, as he’s
found himself 6 arms heavier, and a bit more octopus-y than he
remembers.</p>
<p>Nontheless this doesn’t appear to be much of an impediment,
and he promptly moves on with assessing the situation.</p>
<p>“Acorns? No, I don’t think so. I’m afraid octopus’ are
terrible at fetching acrons, and at any rate, I have a
dreadfully important meeting across town.” turning to address
Inky, “We need to make a break for it, what’d the witch tell
you? Envision our goal or something? This is really a little
outside of my realm of mechanical magic expertise..
unless..”</p>
<p>Alex makes a gesture with his tentacles in the area and a
terminal prompt appears before him. His tentacles work at
blinding speed at the digital window, a quick bypass there, a
root access escalation there.</p>
<p>“Looks like this whole place runs on Linux, it’s an older
kernel, about 2.6 or so, but it checks out. Easy to exploit as
needed. Here I’m giving us sudo access, should we need
it.”</p>
<p>“Oh and squirrel, here’s your acorns”</p>
<pre><code>find /* -name &#39;*acron*&#39; -exec mv /home/squirrel { } \</code></pre>
</blockquote>
<p>It takes Alectopus a couple tries, but he gets it. First he
corrects ‘acron’ to ‘acorn’. Then he moves all the acorns to
the <em>chipmunk</em> instead of to the squirrel.</p>
<p>Hundreds of acorns appear at the chipmunk’s feet. It
squeals in delight.</p>
<p>In the distance, far below you, you hear the anguished yell
of what can only be a Red Squirrel whose giant stash of acorns
has just vanished.</p>
<p>The chipmunk rubs its hands together gleefully and starts
scooping up acorns by the armful and shoving them into its
mouth by the dozen. “Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” it
says around a mouthful of nuts. “Here…” It tosses you a large
square silver coin with a round hole drilled in the center. On
one side is the number twenty-one next to a picture of a
curved, short-handled sickle. On the other side is the number
five and a picture of a flail.</p>
<p>“A Twenty-One Fiver! Sorry, you deserve more, but it’s all
I have,” it apologizes as it scampers off, no doubt to hide
its nuts. Hopefully somewhere more secure this time.</p>
<p>If you hold the coin up to your eye and peer through the
hole, you see the dreamscape before you as though looking
through a cloudy film. All the same stuff is there, but it’s
hazy and shadowy.</p>
<p>Standing a fair distance from you on the branch, just out
of hailing distance, is a tall figure cloaked in black robes.
Dark shadows pool restlessly around its feet. Occasionally the
shadows leap up and take the form of demons the like of which
words cannot describe, before falling and returning to shadow
once more. The figure wears a large spherical helmet of
obsidian-like glass. You can see constant flashes of a rainbow
of colors crackle and splinter along the inside of the helmet
like lightning, but illuminating nothing within. You feel
sickened at the sight, but at the edge of your mind you feels
a tug, a familiarity. Something about this character is
familiar to you, but you cannot place it.</p>
<p>When you lower the coin, the figure and the dark landscape
both disappear. When you raise it again, the distorted
landscape reappears but the figure is gone.</p>
<p>You notice a pair of large ravens watching you rather
intently from the branches below.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item> <item>
<title>58</title> <title>58</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author> <author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
@ -616,86 +841,6 @@ in its own domain</code></pre>
]]> ]]>
</description> </description>
</item> </item>
<item>
<title>60</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">60 - Tue, 31 Jan 2023 19:11:47
-0700</guid>
<pubDate>Tue, 31 Jan 2023 19:11:48 -0700</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00060">00060</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>Alex takes inventory of himself, this dream world is
definitely strange, but fortunately its decided to provide him
with his impecable fashion, trench coat and all. Unfortunately
the same can’t be said for his roguish good looks, as he’s
found himself 6 arms heavier, and a bit more octopus-y than he
remembers.</p>
<p>Nontheless this doesn’t appear to be much of an impediment,
and he promptly moves on with assessing the situation.</p>
<p>“Acorns? No, I don’t think so. I’m afraid octopus’ are
terrible at fetching acrons, and at any rate, I have a
dreadfully important meeting across town.” turning to address
Inky, “We need to make a break for it, what’d the witch tell
you? Envision our goal or something? This is really a little
outside of my realm of mechanical magic expertise..
unless..”</p>
<p>Alex makes a gesture with his tentacles in the area and a
terminal prompt appears before him. His tentacles work at
blinding speed at the digital window, a quick bypass there, a
root access escalation there.</p>
<p>“Looks like this whole place runs on Linux, it’s an older
kernel, about 2.6 or so, but it checks out. Easy to exploit as
needed. Here I’m giving us sudo access, should we need
it.”</p>
<p>“Oh and squirrel, here’s your acorns”</p>
<pre><code>find /* -name &#39;*acron*&#39; -exec mv /home/squirrel { } \</code></pre>
</blockquote>
<p>It takes Alectopus a couple tries, but he gets it. First he
corrects ‘acron’ to ‘acorn’. Then he moves all the acorns to
the <em>chipmunk</em> instead of to the squirrel.</p>
<p>Hundreds of acorns appear at the chipmunk’s feet. It
squeals in delight.</p>
<p>In the distance, far below you, you hear the anguished yell
of what can only be a Red Squirrel whose giant stash of acorns
has just vanished.</p>
<p>The chipmunk rubs its hands together gleefully and starts
scooping up acorns by the armful and shoving them into its
mouth by the dozen. “Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” it
says around a mouthful of nuts. “Here…” It tosses you a large
square silver coin with a round hole drilled in the center. On
one side is the number twenty-one next to a picture of a
curved, short-handled sickle. On the other side is the number
five and a picture of a flail.</p>
<p>“A Twenty-One Fiver! Sorry, you deserve more, but it’s all
I have,” it apologizes as it scampers off, no doubt to hide
its nuts. Hopefully somewhere more secure this time.</p>
<p>If you hold the coin up to your eye and peer through the
hole, you see the dreamscape before you as though looking
through a cloudy film. All the same stuff is there, but it’s
hazy and shadowy.</p>
<p>Standing a fair distance from you on the branch, just out
of hailing distance, is a tall figure cloaked in black robes.
Dark shadows pool restlessly around its feet. Occasionally the
shadows leap up and take the form of demons the like of which
words cannot describe, before falling and returning to shadow
once more. The figure wears a large spherical helmet of
obsidian-like glass. You can see constant flashes of a rainbow
of colors crackle and splinter along the inside of the helmet
like lightning, but illuminating nothing within. You feel
sickened at the sight, but at the edge of your mind you feels
a tug, a familiarity. Something about this character is
familiar to you, but you cannot place it.</p>
<p>When you lower the coin, the figure and the dark landscape
both disappear. When you raise it again, the distorted
landscape reappears but the figure is gone.</p>
<p>You notice a pair of large ravens watching you rather
intently from the branches below.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
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<title>57</title> <title>57</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author> <author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
@ -948,6 +1093,59 @@ in its own domain</code></pre>
]]> ]]>
</description> </description>
</item> </item>
<item>
<title>61</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">61 - Mon, 06 Feb 2023 09:59:55
-0700</guid>
<pubDate>Mon, 06 Feb 2023 09:59:55 -0700</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00061">00061</h3>
<p>Alex the Octopus and Inky the Noogle stand on a tree branch
as wide a street in the heart of the great white upside-down
forest.</p>
<p>A cry of anguish and anger echoes through the forest, and
the branches below you sway and rustle as something rises up
from the depths. You keep catching a glimpse of scarlet
between the silvery white leaves.</p>
<p>The large black ravens perched below you scream in
agitation and fly up past you to the thicker branches up
above, where they hop side to side and loudly scold and
protest the disturbance. A single black feather the length of
your hand settles to the ground at your feet, knocked loose
during their flight.</p>
<p>You finally see the fearsome beast crashing through the
branches below you. Its crazed, yellow eyes as large and round
as dinner plates, a great eight-legged rodent leaps from
branch to branch as it swiftly ascends. It is a bloody,
crimson red. Its long tufted ears lay flat against its
elongated, grinning skull. Its ribbon-like tail twitches as it
trails along behind it like a river of blood. It cries out
again in anger, showing its overgrown incisors, and grinds and
gnashes its back teeth.</p>
<p>Its eyes bore into you with wild fury and blind madness as
it climbs.</p>
<p>“She’s not herself,” sighs the chipmunk, suddenly at your
side once more. When you look down at the chipmunk, however,
it has suddenly turned into a small featureless black turtle
with a sticky sweet roll instead of a shell. Its smooth little
head pokes timidly out of the roll.</p>
<p>“The Red Squirrel,” laments the turtle. “She’s being ridden
by a ghost. An angry ghost who isn’t from here. Somebody left
the door open, and it blew in on the breeze.” The turtle’s
voice trails off until its final words are barely a
whisper.</p>
<p>You can still feel two currents tugging at you and trying
to pull you under. One inward toward your host’s deep, core
memories. And the second pulling you outward toward the Sea of
Dreams.</p>
<p>You have but a moment before the Red Squirrel is upon
you.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item> <item>
<title>64</title> <title>64</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author> <author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
@ -1393,6 +1591,169 @@ NOTE GDB INDICATES SOME ANOMALY</code></pre>
]]> ]]>
</description> </description>
</item> </item>
<item>
<title>65</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">65 - Tue, 21 Feb 2023 14:02:22
-0700</guid>
<pubDate>Tue, 21 Feb 2023 14:02:22 -0700</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00065">00065</h3>
<p>Marvelo fetched a fluffy blanket from the piles of blankets
and pillows in the ritual room where the dreamers continue to
sleep. He has wrapped up the child and is drying them off. The
sound of rain continues to drum incessantly outside.</p>
<p>“Poor thing, you’re chilled to the bone. Don’t worry, Uncle
Marv will take care of you. There we go. Fix you right
up!”</p>
<p>The child is still and silent. It has not made a noise this
whole time. Nor has it acted on its own to actually do
anything besides stare up at Marvelo with wide, dark eyes.</p>
<p>“How did you end up outside by yourself in the rain, hmm?
No? That’s okay. What about your name? Have you got a
name?”</p>
<p>“Rind,” says a voice behind Marvelo. At the sound of its
name, the child’s eyes flick over Marvelo’s shoulder. The
mercenary starts to spin around even as the blanket writhes in
his hands, wrapping itself around his wrists and binding them
tightly together.</p>
<p>“Hungh!” he cries out wordlessly and tucks into a roll,
turning to face his assailant and—he hopes—dodging any
potential attack from behind. And also putting some distance
between himself and the child to get it out of harms way.</p>
<p>Marvelo tries to push up to his knees as cords of rope
snake their way out of the shadows and coil around his knees
and elbows. He struggles to pull free of them. A thicker rope
wraps around his waist, and another squeezes around his chest
and back. The ropes contract and pull Marvelo into a ball. He
groans and falls to his side. He looks up into the eyes of a
man wearing a bright red sash.</p>
<p>The child has tottled over to the man and reaches its arms
up. The man scoops the child up and holds it in the crook of
one arm. The child puts its arms around the man’s neck and
looks down at Marvelo while resting its cheek on the man’s
chest.</p>
<p>“His name is Rind,” the man smiles.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Feeling bedraggled yet dry despite having been submerged
under water, Inky lays on the beach, staring up at the sky
before sitting up and looking around the landscape. They are
now attired in a hooded azure blue vest over red shirt and
shorts, and blue shoes over mismatched knee-high stockings.
Their auburn hair is tied back with the drawstrings from an
attached small pouch. A plush toy resembling a certain floofy
duck peeks out from the hood.</p>
<p>They sense a soft weight land on one shoulder, and smile as
Fuko nips at their ear, no doubt partly in reproach for
wandering off again without her, and maybe partly meant to be
reassuring. This is followed several moments later by a low
hiss and a series of light taps next to Inky’s ear with her
beak. Inky murmurs, “Is that so … we should call it a wrap
soon. Master Alex would probably be happy having Big Bother to
himself anyway, to grill as he likes.”</p>
<p>After a very long minute, Inky sighs and taking out a piece
of paper and pencil from their suitcase, scribbles a
“pome”:</p>
<pre><code>Island tower of towers
Nowhere everywhere the sea
Keep your apples and flowers
Your suitor has come for thee</code></pre>
<p>They roll up the paper and tuck it into a small and clear
glass bottle with a cork stopper. Murmuring the sysorcerer’s
name to the bottle, they lower it into the water and watch as
the bottle drifts into the distance.</p>
<p>Walking along the shoreline and stopping a short distance
from the lone figure, Inky says casually, “Good day, fellow
thing-finder.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The figure turns in your direction and lowers their hood
revealing a long, hooked, black beak and a face covered in
black feathers. Beady black eyes regard you without
blinking.</p>
<p>The feathers around its throat bristle when it speaks like
a thick bristling beard.</p>
<p>“Greetings, Dreamer, and welcome to Ephemeris, the Heart of
the Dreaming. What brings you to the Throne of Konsu?”</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Well Kasutva, I may as well trust you. I imagine if you
meant me harm there are more direct and interesting ways to
harm me than to misguide me. Give me a moment to collect
myself, I’ve never been much for swimming you see, learned
late and was always deathly afraid as a child. Dreadful stuff
really.</p>
<p>Alex steps away briefly to the edge of the pier and looks
into the Azure blue ocean, a swirl of unending blue depth.
Still not my thing, Alex mutters to himself. As he steels
himself he notices a bottle adrift, nearing the pier. As it
comes closer, he plucks it from the water, decorks it and
inspects the note inside.</p>
<p>“What does it say” the little Kasutva inquires.</p>
<p>“Oh nothing, just someone trying to get in contact about
our floating pirateships extended warranty” Alex replies
bruskly. This definitely must have come from Inky Alex thinks
to himself. They must have found the way.</p>
<p>“Look Kasutva, this has been great fun, but I really think
I ought to be going, not really sure that a sea of anyones
dreams is my sort of thing and all that. And I seem ot have
done not but create a mess of things” Alex says as he gestures
to the wreckage of the Mech. Alex gestures in the air before
him, a small split keyboard appears in front of him and he
types out a few short commands.</p>
<blockquote>
<pre><code>cat &gt; /home/inky/messages/urgent &lt;&lt;EOF
Got your message
In a bit of a bind, wrapped up with some weird mushroom guy who wants to go for a swim.
Not sure how to handle it, but I might have to dip back to the real world and let you finish here.
I&#39;ve made a write mess of things, but I trust you can finish this.
Oh, see attached, if you get into a pinch just use this spell, it&#39;ll get you what you need.
grep -A4 AID ~/messages/urgent | sed &#39;s/AID//&#39; | sh
AID
4b1af3fcf4ce005ef86d83c45713ba1a548b4e79da09a6d44632cdb6c5917489
d7d500fa37b986d931b70e114b4e67375b10b373aa6649641e7132e8b3dc7d18
ef6efe98ffd070f486c00b4f50d8bf1448414ef9c2fabe0cacd40bebafba8a02
1d0d1bf0188b842d9ae08b9b37b0f266936ef38b8f07e5c90e4a9351bf018898
EOF</code></pre>
</blockquote>
<p>“Right!” Alex exclaims startling the little Kasutva
accidentally. “Time for me to head back to the real world.
Anything you need from me before I head out? Oh also, can I
take the ak74u? I think I might need it.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“Back … back to the waking world?” Mushroom Kasutva
stammers. “But…”</p>
<p>It looks out at the sea with a look of longing, confusion,
and frustration. “But we were finally going to see Ephemeris,”
they say almost wistfully.</p>
<p>“You were going to take us to Ephemeris!” they shout at
you, suddenly angry.</p>
<p>Mushroom Kasutva screws up its face and roars in rage as it
rushes at you and tries to shove you over the edge of the pier
into the waters below.</p>
<p>But Kasutva is less than a foot tall and quite ineffective
at shoving a human-sized person such as Alex.</p>
<p>Big Kasutva, on the otherhand, is roughly twelve feet tall
and quite capable of manhandling a human-sized person.</p>
<p>You look up in time to jerk back out of the way as they
swipe at your chest with their face-removing knife. It was all
a feint though. As soon as you are slightly off balance from
dodging their attack, they reach out with their other hand and
give you a shove.</p>
<p>You trip over Mushroom Kasutva, who has positioned themself
in just such a way to best tangle up your feet. You stumble
backwards a few steps until one of your feet steps out into
open air. You twist and and look behind you as Ousia rises up
to meet you.</p>
<p>Kasutva clings to your leg as you fall, crying. “We’re
sorry. We’re sorry,” they say over and over as you are pulled
below the waves.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
]]>
</description>
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<title>55</title> <title>55</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author> <author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
@ -1701,203 +2062,5 @@ NOTE GDB INDICATES SOME ANOMALY</code></pre>
]]> ]]>
</description> </description>
</item> </item>
<item>
<title>56</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">56 - Mon, 16 Jan 2023 14:10:25
-0700</guid>
<pubDate>Mon, 16 Jan 2023 14:10:25 -0700</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00056">00056</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>The agitation Alex feels bubbles just beneath the surface.
Patterns where patterns shouldn’t be, strange orders from HQ,
indifference where once was ample aide as well. It was
maddening. Combine it all with the haunting suspicion that
there was constantly someone just around the next corner, and
it was enough to truly drive Alex mad.</p>
<p>That uneasiness takes its toll on a long enough time line,
but Alex wasn’t about to let it get to him. Or so he thought
to himself as he cast a furtive look at his monitoring
equipment. This paranoia had served him well in the past, very
well in fact. It’s a sort of sixth sense in a way, always kept
Alex off the edge of the cliff, especially when someone
stepped close enough to push him off. Those were the types of
skills HQ sought after in the first place.</p>
<p>Alex closes the iron door on his bunker, leaving his
monitoring equipment running, dead man’s trigger set to blow
the place shoul anyone enter it. Can’t be too careful these
days..</p>
<p>Emerging from the sewer grate, sticking to the shadows,
Alex makes his way down an alley, then another, and yet
another, finally emerging a few blocks from the Milk Market.
Across the street, as he had expected, was Marvelo’s Marvelous
MurderSticks, a quaint place should one needed something, well
you get the picture, they don’t really sell anything but
weaponry here.</p>
<p>Alex ducked into the entrance of the shop and strode
towards the back rack, where a collection of knives was on
display. A rough looking fellow, ruddy red beard, thinning
hair, moved from the counter as he saw Alex approach. “Fine
sampling of knives we have, could I interest you in one?”
Marvelo says. Alex reaches for a thin stilleto style dagger,
and hands it to Marvelo “This one seems about right, but I’d
like an extra sharp edge put on it, if you don’t mind”.
Marvelo takes the stilleto from Alex say “Not a problem at all
sir”, and he heads into the back.</p>
<p>He sets to work honing the edge, and once complete he
places it on his work bench. Grabbing a velvet lined case from
a stack, he deftly removes the bottom and places a rolled
piece of paper into the bottom, alongside an m1911 style
pistol, and a couple of clips of ammo. He then places the
velvet bottom back over the equipment, and places the stilleto
on top, bringing the entire package back to the front. “An
extra fine edge on this one sir, that’ll be 15 gold, plus
another 5 to cover the service.</p>
<p>Alex pays, and nips out the shop and heads back to the back
alley. Paranoia begets what it requets, Alex mutters to
himself as he disassembles the box holstering the pistol and
ammo, and sheathing the dagger. Can’t keep going unarmed like
I’m some kind of beat cop, not anymore.. Alex discards the
case and unfurls the message, quickly deciphering the
encryption set on it by Marvelo.</p>
<pre><code>The hunt is still on, no word on Blavin nor the Iris group, yet.
Agent 7 heard rumor of a couple of persons inquiring about the &quot;Milk Market&quot; these past few days.
Agent 3 heard similar rumors, was able to bribe a melon vendor to acertain the figure wore a red sash, and was looking for friends.
Agent 6 has kept watch on the Market, nothing strange yet, coming and goings as usual, no strange visitors
Agent 4 monitoring feeds still present glitches, something abnormal
Agent 5 found the melon vendor dead in a back alley, strangled to death, not immediate signs of blunt force trauma, caution advised</code></pre>
<p>Alex burned the note, striding rapidly away from the alley,
taking a meandering route away from the Milk Market, looping
back around, and heading back towards it by yet another.
Nobody appeared to be following him, yet he paused at each
corner and turn, waiting for the footsteps of a pursuant.</p>
<p>Noting nothing, he made his way through the back entrance
of Enrique’s Empanadas greeting the cook quietly, but jovial.
“Enrique, where’s Inky? We’ve got a problem.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky skims the page. They thank the witch, pay for the
items and exit the shop, promptly discarding all notions of
meeting Bother at the place stipulated on the note.</p>
<p><em>(Half and one hour later)</em></p>
<p>One-sixths into a caramel cantaloupe cream cornet, Inky
runs into Confidence outside the Wandering Bazaar and obtains
some of their new pamphlets, minted with luminescent ink for
the convenience of late-night tourists. These are subsequently
hare-mailed to every editor at the <em>Niuewstijl</em> office,
which is almost certain to earn another chiding remark from
Tess about etiquette and the handling of unsolicited bulk mail
to parent editorial teams.</p>
<p><em>(Half and two hours later)</em></p>
<p>The installation on display at the Milk Market was
grotesque — that is to say, a work of beauty. Inky steps
carefully through the rooms to not disturb the piece.
Afterwards, they sign the guestbook set up on an upturned milk
crate by the door, delightedly pasting rows of horse head and
thumbs-up emo Gs on a page thoughtfully titled “you can’t ed
the unedible”.</p>
<p><em>(Half and three hours earlier)</em></p>
<p>Thanking Agate for her time, Inky passes her a sheet of
paper on which were written a few questions about the
prescribed ritual, with some space after each question should
the witch prefer to scribble a response:</p>
<ul>
<li><p>What do guides in the Sea of Dreams and the Ravenfolk
typically seek in return for directing travellers to the
correct pocket dimension?</p></li>
<li><p>An establishment inside the Bazaar is only open in the
evenings whenever it appears in the city. How long does travel
to a pocket dimension typically take, allowing for time to
seek out a guide? Is there a way travellers can estimate the
time to set out on their journey, in order to arrive at the
establishment while it is open?</p></li>
<li><p>Who are the Red Spider and “Dude 215R” mentioned in the
ritual? How can travellers avoid summoning them?</p></li>
<li><p>Would anything happen to the travellers if any of the
sigils were removed during the ritual before they wake
up?</p></li>
</ul>
<p><em>(Half and four hours later)</em></p>
<p>Two sets of eyes peer down at the contents of an open tin.
One accompanied by a focused look and a little trepidation,
following the pinkish, flesh-like chunks speckled with white
pockets of fat as they tumble into a hot pan and almost
immediately begin to move of their own accord. The moving
mounds resemble small round mouths opening, each with a rim of
sharp teeth. The other pair of eyes belongs to a grinning face
that beams when the mounds bloom into bright red flat caps,
the edges beneath about to soften in the olive oil.</p>
<p>Minutes after, The slices are ready. Inky accepts the plate
of tostada with spicy pickled artichoke mushrooms and tomatoes
with a murmur of thanks. Reassembling the recipe for the
tinned spicy artichoke mushrooms had been a tedious process —
someone had ripped out the pages from an old pickling book
that had long ceased publication. Eventually Inky found a
former nomad who had eaten them for two years in their youth
and could recall or somewhat describe the taste. Flowery and
savoury, they said. Many taste tests later, it turned out to
be closer to partially decomposed cheese in ponderosa lemon
juice. Canning was fortuitously easier with the increasing
portability of sealers. Rather than telling the empanada chef
any of this, Inky watches satisfaction slowly spread across
his face. The tale that follows is far more entertaining.</p>
<p><em>(Half and five hours later)</em></p>
<p>While measuring out ingredients for the forty-second tea
infusion since the start of the missions, not that Inky was
keeping a close count, they hear a familiar voice a short
distance outside the door asking for their whereabouts.
Without pausing in their whisking, Inky simply informs the
owner of the voice they’re not here, obviously, before
emerging from the storage pantry with a fresh pot and bowls on
a wooden tray, and greets the returning sysorcerer.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Agate writes back quickly:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>What do guides in the Sea of Dreams and the Ravenfolk
typically seek in return for directing travellers to the
correct pocket dimension?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Intangibles. Usually memories, hopes, or dreams.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>An establishment inside the Bazaar is only open in the
evenings whenever it appears in the city. How long does travel
to a pocket dimension typically take, allowing for time to
seek out a guide? Is there a way travellers can estimate the
time to set out on their journey, in order to arrive at the
establishment while it is open?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>You’ll find that time is rather malleable on the Otherside.
You’ll likely arrive exactly when you’re meant to. No need to
worry too much about it.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Who are the Red Spider and “Dude 215R” mentioned in the
ritual? How can travellers avoid summoning them?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Godforms manifested by the Linking Sigil and the Dream
Sigil, respectively. It’s not <em>terrible</em> if they show
up. But it’s definitely not ideal. You shouldn’t register on
their radar as long as you don’t pump too much energy into, or
siphon to much energy out of, the sigils. If they do show up,
just know that you’re in the presence of a godlike power, and
behave accordingly.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Would anything happen to the travellers if any of the
sigils were removed during the ritual before they wake up?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>If the sigils are removed or if the circle is broken,
you’ll likely just wake up before you wanted to. Same goes for
if your dreamform is destroyed while in the Dreaming. The only
real danger you may encounter is the Scissormen and their ilk.
They will attempt to permanently sever your dreamform from
your waking body. Which would leave your body a soulless husk,
and leave your consciousness adrift in the Sea of Dreams. But
that probably won’t happen! Okay good luck, have fun!</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
]]>
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@ -288,6 +288,7 @@
<li><a href="#00062" id="toc-00062">00062</a></li> <li><a href="#00062" id="toc-00062">00062</a></li>
<li><a href="#00063" id="toc-00063">00063</a></li> <li><a href="#00063" id="toc-00063">00063</a></li>
<li><a href="#00064" id="toc-00064">00064</a></li> <li><a href="#00064" id="toc-00064">00064</a></li>
<li><a href="#00065" id="toc-00065">00065</a></li>
</ul></li> </ul></li>
<li><a href="#spoilers" id="toc-spoilers">Spoilers</a></li> <li><a href="#spoilers" id="toc-spoilers">Spoilers</a></li>
<li><a href="#acknowledgements" <li><a href="#acknowledgements"
@ -364,11 +365,11 @@ into the <a href="#current-story">current story arc</a>.</p>
you can <a href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml">subscribe to you can <a href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml">subscribe to
the rss feed</a>.</p> the rss feed</a>.</p>
<h2 id="stats">Stats</h2> <h2 id="stats">Stats</h2>
<p>Total length: 82674 words / 353 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the <p>Total length: 83975 words / 358 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the
length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not
just the story.)</p> just the story.)</p>
<p>There have been 223 messages posted over 222 days since the first <p>There have been 226 messages posted over 228 days since the first
post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.00.</p> post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .99.</p>
<h2 id="chapter-1">Chapter 1</h2> <h2 id="chapter-1">Chapter 1</h2>
<p>This is the first installment of BASEMENT QUEST.</p> <p>This is the first installment of BASEMENT QUEST.</p>
<p>Jump to: <a href="#00001">1</a> <a href="#00002">2</a> <a <p>Jump to: <a href="#00001">1</a> <a href="#00002">2</a> <a
@ -6859,6 +6860,142 @@ you up and carry you to Ephemeris.”</p>
<p>It hops up to you and extends itself in a clear request, despite its <p>It hops up to you and extends itself in a clear request, despite its
lack of limbs, that it wants you to pick it up.</p> lack of limbs, that it wants you to pick it up.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p> <p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<h3 id="00065">00065</h3>
<p>Marvelo fetched a fluffy blanket from the piles of blankets and
pillows in the ritual room where the dreamers continue to sleep. He has
wrapped up the child and is drying them off. The sound of rain continues
to drum incessantly outside.</p>
<p>“Poor thing, you’re chilled to the bone. Don’t worry, Uncle Marv will
take care of you. There we go. Fix you right up!”</p>
<p>The child is still and silent. It has not made a noise this whole
time. Nor has it acted on its own to actually do anything besides stare
up at Marvelo with wide, dark eyes.</p>
<p>“How did you end up outside by yourself in the rain, hmm? No? That’s
okay. What about your name? Have you got a name?”</p>
<p>“Rind,” says a voice behind Marvelo. At the sound of its name, the
child’s eyes flick over Marvelo’s shoulder. The mercenary starts to spin
around even as the blanket writhes in his hands, wrapping itself around
his wrists and binding them tightly together.</p>
<p>“Hungh!” he cries out wordlessly and tucks into a roll, turning to
face his assailant and—he hopes—dodging any potential attack from
behind. And also putting some distance between himself and the child to
get it out of harms way.</p>
<p>Marvelo tries to push up to his knees as cords of rope snake their
way out of the shadows and coil around his knees and elbows. He
struggles to pull free of them. A thicker rope wraps around his waist,
and another squeezes around his chest and back. The ropes contract and
pull Marvelo into a ball. He groans and falls to his side. He looks up
into the eyes of a man wearing a bright red sash.</p>
<p>The child has tottled over to the man and reaches its arms up. The
man scoops the child up and holds it in the crook of one arm. The child
puts its arms around the man’s neck and looks down at Marvelo while
resting its cheek on the man’s chest.</p>
<p>“His name is Rind,” the man smiles.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Feeling bedraggled yet dry despite having been submerged under water,
Inky lays on the beach, staring up at the sky before sitting up and
looking around the landscape. They are now attired in a hooded azure
blue vest over red shirt and shorts, and blue shoes over mismatched
knee-high stockings. Their auburn hair is tied back with the drawstrings
from an attached small pouch. A plush toy resembling a certain floofy
duck peeks out from the hood.</p>
<p>They sense a soft weight land on one shoulder, and smile as Fuko nips
at their ear, no doubt partly in reproach for wandering off again
without her, and maybe partly meant to be reassuring. This is followed
several moments later by a low hiss and a series of light taps next to
Inky’s ear with her beak. Inky murmurs, “Is that so … we should call it
a wrap soon. Master Alex would probably be happy having Big Bother to
himself anyway, to grill as he likes.”</p>
<p>After a very long minute, Inky sighs and taking out a piece of paper
and pencil from their suitcase, scribbles a “pome”:</p>
<pre><code>Island tower of towers
Nowhere everywhere the sea
Keep your apples and flowers
Your suitor has come for thee</code></pre>
<p>They roll up the paper and tuck it into a small and clear glass
bottle with a cork stopper. Murmuring the sysorcerer’s name to the
bottle, they lower it into the water and watch as the bottle drifts into
the distance.</p>
<p>Walking along the shoreline and stopping a short distance from the
lone figure, Inky says casually, “Good day, fellow thing-finder.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The figure turns in your direction and lowers their hood revealing a
long, hooked, black beak and a face covered in black feathers. Beady
black eyes regard you without blinking.</p>
<p>The feathers around its throat bristle when it speaks like a thick
bristling beard.</p>
<p>“Greetings, Dreamer, and welcome to Ephemeris, the Heart of the
Dreaming. What brings you to the Throne of Konsu?”</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Well Kasutva, I may as well trust you. I imagine if you meant me harm
there are more direct and interesting ways to harm me than to misguide
me. Give me a moment to collect myself, I’ve never been much for
swimming you see, learned late and was always deathly afraid as a child.
Dreadful stuff really.</p>
<p>Alex steps away briefly to the edge of the pier and looks into the
Azure blue ocean, a swirl of unending blue depth. Still not my thing,
Alex mutters to himself. As he steels himself he notices a bottle
adrift, nearing the pier. As it comes closer, he plucks it from the
water, decorks it and inspects the note inside.</p>
<p>“What does it say” the little Kasutva inquires.</p>
<p>“Oh nothing, just someone trying to get in contact about our floating
pirateships extended warranty” Alex replies bruskly. This definitely
must have come from Inky Alex thinks to himself. They must have found
the way.</p>
<p>“Look Kasutva, this has been great fun, but I really think I ought to
be going, not really sure that a sea of anyones dreams is my sort of
thing and all that. And I seem ot have done not but create a mess of
things” Alex says as he gestures to the wreckage of the Mech. Alex
gestures in the air before him, a small split keyboard appears in front
of him and he types out a few short commands.</p>
<blockquote>
<pre><code>cat &gt; /home/inky/messages/urgent &lt;&lt;EOF
Got your message
In a bit of a bind, wrapped up with some weird mushroom guy who wants to go for a swim.
Not sure how to handle it, but I might have to dip back to the real world and let you finish here.
I&#39;ve made a write mess of things, but I trust you can finish this.
Oh, see attached, if you get into a pinch just use this spell, it&#39;ll get you what you need.
grep -A4 AID ~/messages/urgent | sed &#39;s/AID//&#39; | sh
AID
4b1af3fcf4ce005ef86d83c45713ba1a548b4e79da09a6d44632cdb6c5917489
d7d500fa37b986d931b70e114b4e67375b10b373aa6649641e7132e8b3dc7d18
ef6efe98ffd070f486c00b4f50d8bf1448414ef9c2fabe0cacd40bebafba8a02
1d0d1bf0188b842d9ae08b9b37b0f266936ef38b8f07e5c90e4a9351bf018898
EOF</code></pre>
</blockquote>
<p>“Right!” Alex exclaims startling the little Kasutva accidentally.
“Time for me to head back to the real world. Anything you need from me
before I head out? Oh also, can I take the ak74u? I think I might need
it.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“Back … back to the waking world?” Mushroom Kasutva stammers.
“But…”</p>
<p>It looks out at the sea with a look of longing, confusion, and
frustration. “But we were finally going to see Ephemeris,” they say
almost wistfully.</p>
<p>“You were going to take us to Ephemeris!” they shout at you, suddenly
angry.</p>
<p>Mushroom Kasutva screws up its face and roars in rage as it rushes at
you and tries to shove you over the edge of the pier into the waters
below.</p>
<p>But Kasutva is less than a foot tall and quite ineffective at shoving
a human-sized person such as Alex.</p>
<p>Big Kasutva, on the otherhand, is roughly twelve feet tall and quite
capable of manhandling a human-sized person.</p>
<p>You look up in time to jerk back out of the way as they swipe at your
chest with their face-removing knife. It was all a feint though. As soon
as you are slightly off balance from dodging their attack, they reach
out with their other hand and give you a shove.</p>
<p>You trip over Mushroom Kasutva, who has positioned themself in just
such a way to best tangle up your feet. You stumble backwards a few
steps until one of your feet steps out into open air. You twist and and
look behind you as Ousia rises up to meet you.</p>
<p>Kasutva clings to your leg as you fall, crying. “We’re sorry. We’re
sorry,” they say over and over as you are pulled below the waves.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<h2 id="spoilers">Spoilers</h2> <h2 id="spoilers">Spoilers</h2>
<details> <details>
<summary> <summary>