diff --git a/basement.order b/basement.order index 5f9aad8..93a6250 100644 --- a/basement.order +++ b/basement.order @@ -29,6 +29,7 @@ src/epistolary/00044.md src/epistolary/00045.md src/epistolary/00046.md src/epistolary/00047.md +src/epistolary/00048.md src/bestiary/index.md src/bestiary/aur.md src/bestiary/blahoblin.md diff --git a/src/characters/inky.md b/src/characters/inky.md index 2325284..9d1159d 100644 --- a/src/characters/inky.md +++ b/src/characters/inky.md @@ -17,7 +17,7 @@ What do you plan to do with your cut of the money? Buy lots of ink ingredients, - Player: mio - XP: 1 -- Skills: Do Anything 1, Persuasive 2, Plantomancy 2 +- Skills: Do Anything 1, Persuasive 2, Plantomancy 2, Throwing 2 - Equipment: Handy Duffer Discette, Fine Feathered Quills, Jade Tea Set, Mountain Range Glyph Ink, Bead of the Werehare Paths: diff --git a/src/epistolary/00048.md b/src/epistolary/00048.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6687335 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/epistolary/00048.md @@ -0,0 +1,246 @@ +--- +title: 00048 +created: Wed, 28 Dec 2022 16:08:10 -0700 +updated: Wed, 28 Dec 2022 16:08:12 -0700 +syndicated: yes +public: yes +--- +### 00048 {#00048} + +> Alex snatches up his new hemo friend cheering huzzah as he does. +> We've got a pirate ship little guy! +> +> Rushing about the deck Alex quickly takes stock of what's left, +> plenty of ammo, general supplies, fuel, perfectly provisioned for a +> quick crystal kidnapping. Smart move pirates, but not smart enough. +> +> Alex heads to the helm and steadies the ship guiding it out and +> away from the library, can't have any of the remaining cyberplasms +> easily reboarding it now can we? Once the ship is out of range Alex +> checks his S.T.A.G drone's twtxt feed for updates. +> +> ``` +> @ Cyberplasm approaching crystal +> @ approx library, top level +> @ Cyberplasm threatens violence +> @ Inky, bread, confidence enter subvertly +> @ Visual feed impaired due to unknown smog +> @ Angry tones, uncertain who +> ``` +> +> Not particularly helpful, and it rules out my first thought. I +> could blindly fire the broadside canons into the library hoping to +> hit the cyberplasm, but I'd be just as likely to hit Inky, Bread, +> Confidence or any other innocent bystander. I've got to get a +> message to her. +> +> Alex quickly dispatches a command to the S.T.A.G +> +> ``` +> @ Seek Inky +> @ Secured ship, inform A.I of intentions, will coordinate rescue via the stolen ship +> ``` +> +> If all we've got is this, then we'd best be ready for a quick +> rescue. Alex busies himself preparing a new zipline and mooring +> lines. He then loads the boradside canons and the top deck swivel +> canons. It'll need to be quick, but if I'm ready I can swing the +> ship in close, deploy a zipline for Inky to zip down to the ship +> with, and defend the retreat with the swivels. If everyone retreats +> to the ship we can take a note from the pirates playbook and blast +> them to hell with the broadsides while we make our retreat. Or +> simply run I suppose, but I dislike the idea of leaving innocent +> people to deal with angry pirates + +The hemogoblin cheers you on as you take possession of the airship, +accidentally squirting a few jets of rust colored blood in its +excitement. Must still be quite young. They don't gain full control +of their blood sacs until well into adulthood. + +You check your S.T.A.G. drone's twtxt feeds. This A.I. seems +especially reliable, you note with satisfaction. Its updates are +regular and detailed. Even when there's not much to report. + +You load up the canons and take control of the helm. The hemogoblin +stands at attention at the broadside canons with a cracklesparkler, +ready to light the fuse at your command. You steer the ship a short +distance away from the hotel, hopefully out of reach of the +cyberplasms. But within range of your own canons and ziplines. + +> While Inky has the attention of both guides, they close the door +> again until it is slightly ajar, and make a series of hand +> gestures. First pointing at themselves, at their own forearm and +> fist held stiffly to mimic the shape of the captain's arm cannon, +> to indicate that Inky will handle the Cyberplasm. Then Inky points +> the two fingers of a hand at Bread and Confidence, turns the two +> fingers downward and swings them back and forth in opposite +> directions to convey walking. This was followed by a single finger +> pointing in the general direction they had last seen the hotelier; +> then the finger hooks inward, the arm repeating a yanking motion +> once or twice before ending the gesture with a thumb tossed over +> their shoulder towards the hallway away from the staff entrance, to +> ask them to get their boss out of the library to a safe spot. +> +> Without waiting for confirmation from the toques, Inky opens the +> door, abruptly stops, turns and shoves a compostable bag of +> mango-flavoured croutons at Bread, gives them a thumbs up in return +> and a mildly disturbing, eye-crinkling smile behind their kerchief, +> before slipping inside the smoky room. One hand is already pulling +> out a thin, extendable metal walking pole with a carrying strap +> visually resembling the type used by hikers from their courier bag +> to check for obstacles amid the lowered visibility. + +Confidence watches all of your hand gestures closely, and then nods +resolutely. They draw their large hoe, and turn and start to crouch +run toward the main entrance to to the main hall of the library. + +Bread looks confused, but ready to follow Confidence. They grab their +heavy meat tenderizer and crouch down in imitation of their fellow +toque. Before they can run off, you shove a bag of croutons into +their arms. "Small. Toasted. Bread," they intonate slowly in wonder. +The confusion falls from their face as they break into a wide grin. +"Now I'll never disappear without a trace," they laugh. They thank +you and run like a duck after Confidence. + +> Inside, Inky lobs the empty glass vial that had held the +> unpleasantly pungent organic catalyst at a spot the floor several +> paces roughly from where the Cyberplasm — presumably the leader of +> the group — had been standing earlier, in the opposite direction of +> the staff entrance in an attempt to divert attention from the +> hotelier's last location. As they edge along the wall towards the +> tower stairs, walking pole looped over one hand, Inky grabs a few +> small hardcover novellas from a wall shelf. Straightening from +> their crouch, Inky tosses them one at a time horizontally in quick +> succession like a discus, but without the full-body turning motion, +> across the hall towards the sounds of frustrated groans and angry +> muttering. The first starting higher around where a human head +> might have once been, one at waist height and another at the +> juncture below where ectoplasmic knees might meet prosthetic legs. + +You pick up three hardback novellas. If it wasn't so smoky, and if +you weren't so much in the middle of a potentially life and death +struggle with the Cyberplasm captain of a pirate airship, you might +notice their titles: *Stop and Smell the Crystals*, *Living the +Corn*, and *A Big Moon*. + + + +Anyway, you start flinging. + + + +After you toss the catalyst, you can see a plasmic form heavily +blurred and obscured by the smoke turn in that direction. You fling +*Stop and Smell the Crystals* at it, and it spins like a discus and +smashes into the pirate right in the face, above the chin. It howls +and brings its hand to its face, and turns and charges up its arm +cannon. + + + +Mostly going on sound now, you fling *Living the Corn* at the +pirate's moan and at the electric whine of the canon charging. You +hear the canon discharge but the half-blind pirate fires wide. You +see the flash of the energy blast hitting something, someone, else +obscured by smoke in the middle distance between the two of you. A +man screams out in pain. Right after the muffled thump of his body +hitting the ground, you hear the clinking and ringing of something +heavy and metallic striking and rolling across the floor. + +*Living on Corn* strikes the pirate in the elbow, and with a fizzle +and a spark, the arm cannon sputters offline. + + + +The pirate stumbles forward, half-lame and half-blind. It stoops and +scoops up a heavy melon-sized object. It stomps its cybernetic boot, +and small rockets spring out from small compartments on either side +of its ankle. They start to fire up and the pirate is about to make +its escape when *A Big Moon* hits it right above knee and severs the +ghost's final connection to its final enhancement. + +It groans as it starts to dissipate, dropping the heavy object once +more. + +"My crew, it is too late for me! I shall never have a new body now! +But it's not too late for you! You must bring the quintessence to +Mother!" + +And then the pirate's essence is diluted in the smoke filling the +library. + +> At that moment Inky hears a very low whirring accompanied by +> clicking sounds behind them and without glancing backwards, swings +> the walking pole at the source of the buzzing. The stick collides +> with something, sending it careening backwards with a light clatter +> through what is likely a row of bookshelves around the area already +> partially emptied of their contents. From the static noise that +> ensues, Inky realises whatever it was may or may not have been one +> of the wizard's bugs hovering in the shadows earlier or a +> disembodied, ectoplasm-spewing prosthetic limb after all. Inky +> calls out sheepishly, "Sorry, Young Master Alex! Was that yours? +> Oops? Haha?" before smashing two more empty glass bottles as a +> distraction for any remaining Cyberplasms lurking on the same +> floor, and sprints up the tower stairs, using the banisters as a +> guide. + +The Amber Imp is feverishly reporting all the goings on from inside +the S.T.A.G. drone when Inky strikes its conveyance with their +walking pole. The bug is destroyed on contact. The imp barely manages +to fire off one final End Of Transmission post before ejecting from +the craft, which sinks below like an exploded firework. It drifts on +the currents of smoke and flows out through the hole in the wall into +the open air outside. The imp falls through open space and starts to +think back on its life. So much time and energy spent chasing its +hopes and dreams, its goals and aspirations. So much of its life +wasted in pursuit. Always reaching, never grasping. Is that all it +gets? Is this the end? Did it ever really even get a chance to really +live? + +These thoughts race through its head as it falls, but are cut short +when it abruptly lands on a hard bed of cloudstuff. It tumbles and +rolls and comes to a stop. And when it looks up, amazed to be alive +and vowing to make the most of this second chance at life, it looks +up into the benevolent smiling face of a pink zephynos. + +~ + +Inky, you cross the floor to where the pirate had its last stand. You +find what appears to be approximately one-fifth of the hotelier, and +wonder idly where the rest of him might be. And you notice a +conspicuous lack of Ginnarak Crystal. + +You do however notice a soft crunch underfoot. And when you bend down +to inspect it---disorganized cyberplasms running amok in the smoke +behind you---you discover a trail of mango flavored croutons leading +across the hall to the tower stairs. + +You sprint up the stairs using the banisters as a guide. The +breadcrumb trail ends on the seventh level, where Confidence sits +slumped against the wall between two bookshelves. They have one arm +around four-fifths of the hotelier, his shocked gaze telling you +everything you need to know, that he is entirely dead but just +doesn't know it yet. Their other arm is around Bread, who has +suffered a massive wound to the chest and is only slightly more alive +than the hotelier. On the ground between Confidence's legs is the +Ginnarak Crystal. Several loose pages are stuck to its sides, held in +place by drying blood and ectoplasm. + +Confidence looks at you and smiles wearily. "We left a trail for you. +It was Bread's idea. They were a good guide." + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00250.html) diff --git a/www/index.html b/www/index.html index bc74f0e..474193e 100644 --- a/www/index.html +++ b/www/index.html @@ -319,6 +319,7 @@ of the Were-Hare
  • 00045
  • 00046
  • 00047
    • +
  • 00048
  • Bestiary
  • Geography
    • @@ -328,10 +329,10 @@ of the Were-Hare

    Stats

    -

    Total length: 45381 words / 193 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the +

    Total length: 47248 words / 201 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not just the story.)

    -

    There have been 170 messages posted over 168 days since the first +

    There have been 171 messages posted over 169 days since the first post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.01.

    About

    This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over @@ -487,7 +488,7 @@ very soon!

    • Player: mio
    • XP: 1
      • -
    • Skills: Do Anything 1, Persuasive 2, Plantomancy 2
      • +
    • Skills: Do Anything 1, Persuasive 2, Plantomancy 2, Throwing 2
    • Equipment: Handy Duffer Discette, Fine Feathered Quills, Jade Tea Set, Mountain Range Glyph Ink, Bead of the Werehare
    @@ -5251,6 +5252,207 @@ wisely doesn’t make a sound as he disappears from view.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    +

    00048

    +
    +

    Alex snatches up his new hemo friend cheering huzzah as he does. +We’ve got a pirate ship little guy!

    +

    Rushing about the deck Alex quickly takes stock of what’s left, +plenty of ammo, general supplies, fuel, perfectly provisioned for a +quick crystal kidnapping. Smart move pirates, but not smart enough.

    +

    Alex heads to the helm and steadies the ship guiding it out and away +from the library, can’t have any of the remaining cyberplasms easily +reboarding it now can we? Once the ship is out of range Alex checks his +S.T.A.G drone’s twtxt feed for updates.

    +
    @<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Cyberplasm approaching crystal
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/gps> approx library, top level
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/audio> Cyberplasm threatens violence
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Inky, bread, confidence enter subvertly
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Visual feed impaired due to unknown smog
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/audio> Angry tones, uncertain who
    +

    Not particularly helpful, and it rules out my first thought. I could +blindly fire the broadside canons into the library hoping to hit the +cyberplasm, but I’d be just as likely to hit Inky, Bread, Confidence or +any other innocent bystander. I’ve got to get a message to her.

    +

    Alex quickly dispatches a command to the S.T.A.G

    +
    @<drone/fhsoa7483/cmd> Seek Inky
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/relay> Secured ship, inform A.I of intentions, will coordinate rescue via the stolen ship
    +

    If all we’ve got is this, then we’d best be ready for a quick rescue. +Alex busies himself preparing a new zipline and mooring lines. He then +loads the boradside canons and the top deck swivel canons. It’ll need to +be quick, but if I’m ready I can swing the ship in close, deploy a +zipline for Inky to zip down to the ship with, and defend the retreat +with the swivels. If everyone retreats to the ship we can take a note +from the pirates playbook and blast them to hell with the broadsides +while we make our retreat. Or simply run I suppose, but I dislike the +idea of leaving innocent people to deal with angry pirates

    +
    +

    The hemogoblin cheers you on as you take possession of the airship, +accidentally squirting a few jets of rust colored blood in its +excitement. Must still be quite young. They don’t gain full control of +their blood sacs until well into adulthood.

    +

    You check your S.T.A.G. drone’s twtxt feeds. This A.I. seems +especially reliable, you note with satisfaction. Its updates are regular +and detailed. Even when there’s not much to report.

    +

    You load up the canons and take control of the helm. The hemogoblin +stands at attention at the broadside canons with a cracklesparkler, +ready to light the fuse at your command. You steer the ship a short +distance away from the hotel, hopefully out of reach of the cyberplasms. +But within range of your own canons and ziplines.

    +
    +

    While Inky has the attention of both guides, they close the door +again until it is slightly ajar, and make a series of hand gestures. +First pointing at themselves, at their own forearm and fist held stiffly +to mimic the shape of the captain’s arm cannon, to indicate that Inky +will handle the Cyberplasm. Then Inky points the two fingers of a hand +at Bread and Confidence, turns the two fingers downward and swings them +back and forth in opposite directions to convey walking. This was +followed by a single finger pointing in the general direction they had +last seen the hotelier; then the finger hooks inward, the arm repeating +a yanking motion once or twice before ending the gesture with a thumb +tossed over their shoulder towards the hallway away from the staff +entrance, to ask them to get their boss out of the library to a safe +spot.

    +

    Without waiting for confirmation from the toques, Inky opens the +door, abruptly stops, turns and shoves a compostable bag of +mango-flavoured croutons at Bread, gives them a thumbs up in return and +a mildly disturbing, eye-crinkling smile behind their kerchief, before +slipping inside the smoky room. One hand is already pulling out a thin, +extendable metal walking pole with a carrying strap visually resembling +the type used by hikers from their courier bag to check for obstacles +amid the lowered visibility.

    +
    +

    Confidence watches all of your hand gestures closely, and then nods +resolutely. They draw their large hoe, and turn and start to crouch run +toward the main entrance to to the main hall of the library.

    +

    Bread looks confused, but ready to follow Confidence. They grab their +heavy meat tenderizer and crouch down in imitation of their fellow +toque. Before they can run off, you shove a bag of croutons into their +arms. “Small. Toasted. Bread,” they intonate slowly in wonder. The +confusion falls from their face as they break into a wide grin. “Now +I’ll never disappear without a trace,” they laugh. They thank you and +run like a duck after Confidence.

    +
    +

    Inside, Inky lobs the empty glass vial that had held the unpleasantly +pungent organic catalyst at a spot the floor several paces roughly from +where the Cyberplasm — presumably the leader of the group — had been +standing earlier, in the opposite direction of the staff entrance in an +attempt to attention from the hotelier’s last location. As they edge +along the wall towards the tower stairs, walking pole looped over one +hand, Inky grabs a few small hardcover novellas from a wall shelf. +Straightening from their crouch, Inky tosses them one at a time +horizontally in quick succession like a discus, but without the +full-body turning motion, across the hall towards the sounds of +frustrated groans and angry muttering. The first starting higher around +where a human head might have once been, one at waist height and another +at the juncture below where ectoplasmic knees might meet prosthetic +legs.

    +
    +

    You pick up three hardback novellas. If it wasn’t so smoky, and if +you weren’t so much in the middle of a potentially life and death +struggle with the Cyberplasm captain of a pirate airship, you might +notice their titles: Stop and Smell the Crystals, Living +the Corn, and A Big Moon.

    + +

    Anyway, you start flinging.

    + +

    After you toss the catalyst, you can see a plasmic form heavily +blurred and obscured by the smoke turn in that direction. You fling +Stop and Smell the Crystals at it, and it spins like a discus +and smashes into the pirate right in the face, above the chin. It howls +and brings its hand to its face, and turns and charges up its arm +cannon.

    + +

    Mostly going on sound now, you fling Living the Corn at the +pirate’s moan and at the electric whine of the canon charging. You hear +the canon discharge but the half-blind pirate fires wide. You see the +flash of the energy blast hitting something, someone, else obscured by +smoke in the middle distance between the two of you. A man screams out +in pain. Right after the muffled thump of his body hitting the ground, +you hear the clinking and ringing of something heavy and metallic +striking and rolling across the floor.

    +

    Living on Corn strikes the pirate in the elbow, and with a +fizzle and a spark, the arm cannon sputters offline.

    + +

    The pirate stumbles forward, half-lame and half-blind. It stoops and +scoops up a heavy melon-sized object. It stomps its cybernetic boot, and +small rockets spring out from small compartments on either side of its +ankle. They start to fire up and the pirate is about to make its escape +when A Big Moon hits it right above knee and severs the ghost’s +final connection to its final enhancement.

    +

    It groans as it starts to dissipate, dropping the heavy object once +more.

    +

    “My crew, it is too late for me! I shall never have a new body now! +But it’s not too late for you! You must bring the quintessence to +Mother!”

    +

    And then the pirate’s essence is diluted in the smoke filling the +library.

    +
    +

    At that moment Inky hears a very low whirring accompanied by clicking +sounds behind them and without glancing backwards, swings the walking +pole at the source of the buzzing. The stick collides with something, +sending it careening backwards with a light clatter through what is +likely a row of bookshelves around the area already partially emptied of +their contents. From the static noise that ensues, Inky realises +whatever it was may or may not have been one of the wizard’s bugs +hovering in the shadows earlier or a disembodied, ectoplasm-spewing +prosthetic limb after all. Inky calls out sheepishly, “Sorry, Young +Master Alex! Was that yours? Oops? Haha?” before smashing two more empty +glass bottles as a distraction for any remaining Cyberplasms lurking on +the same floor, and sprints up the tower stairs, using the banisters as +a guide.

    +
    +

    The Amber Imp is feverishly reporting all the goings on from inside +the S.T.A.G. drone when Inky strikes its conveyance with their walking +pole. The bug is destroyed on contact. The imp barely manages to fire +off one final End Of Transmission post before ejecting from the craft, +which sinks below like an exploded firework. It drifts on the currents +of smoke and flows out through the hole in the wall into the open air +outside. The imp falls through open space and starts to think back on +its life. So much time and energy spent chasing its hopes and dreams, +its goals and aspirations. So much of its life wasted in pursuit. Always +reaching, never grasping. Is that all it gets? Is this the end? Did it +ever really even get a chance to really live?

    +

    These thoughts race through its head as it falls, but are cut short +when it abruptly lands on a hard bed of cloudstuff. It tumbles and rolls +and comes to a stop. And when it looks up, amazed to be alive and vowing +to make the most of this second chance at life, it looks up into the +benevolent smiling face of a pink zephynos.

    +

    ~

    +

    Inky, you cross the floor to where the pirate had its last stand. You +find what appears to be approximately one-fifth of the hotelier, and +wonder idly where the rest of him might be. And you notice a conspicuous +lack of Ginnarak Crystal.

    +

    You do however notice a soft crunch underfoot. And when you bend down +to inspect it—disorganized cyberplasms running amok in the smoke behind +you—you discover a trail of mango flavored croutons leading across the +hall to the tower stairs.

    +

    You sprint up the stairs using the banisters as a guide. The +breadcrumb trail ends on the seventh level, where Confidence sits +slumped against the wall between two bookshelves. They have one arm +around four-fifths of the hotelier, his shocked gaze telling you +everything you need to know, that he is entirely dead but just doesn’t +know it yet. Their other arm is around Bread, who has suffered a massive +wound to the chest and is only slightly more alive than the hotelier. On +the ground between Confidence’s legs is the Ginnarak Crystal. Several +loose pages are stuck to its sides, held in place by drying blood and +ectoplasm.

    +

    Confidence looks at you and smiles wearily. “We left a trail for you. +It was Bread’s idea. They were a good guide.”

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    www

    Bestiary

    Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria

    diff --git a/www/rss.xml b/www/rss.xml index 69d56dc..2273f3e 100644 --- a/www/rss.xml +++ b/www/rss.xml @@ -6,151 +6,195 @@ https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml Friends having ADVENTURES! Huzzah! - 42 + 45 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 42 - Sat, 17 Dec 2022 08:01:41 + 45 - Tue, 20 Dec 2022 10:15:23 -0700 - Sat, 17 Dec 2022 08:01:48 -0700 + Thu, 22 Dec 2022 09:29:11 -0700 00042 +

    00045

    -

    This seems a bit strange. Certainly Blavin has been pulling - strings from behind the scenes the whole time, but why - coordinate a special escort for us when there are other - retrieval teams, and we’ve been less than amicable with the - bloke the entire time.. Alex thinks to himself.

    -

    DM: I’d like to check for any signs of deceit in the - toques demeanor or communcations with us

    -

    Confidence you said right? What would you do if I simply - chose not to accompany you? I mean, there’s a whole city - around us, perhaps I’d prefer a drink before climbing a - mountains worth of stairs. Or better yet, I could get back on - the boat and ride to the top and same myself the hassle.

    +

    As the blankets draw back from the bloody mass, a cute + little hemogoblin appears. “Aww little fellas just scared.” + Alex lowers the dagger, but otherwise ignores the hemogoblin. + Best to leave it be for now, there’s more important + things.

    +

    As the balloon gets within range of the ship Alex begins to + scan the deck for Cyberplasms. At the same time he checks his + bug to track the location of the cyberplasms more acutely. It + looks like there may be an opporunity to jump from the balloon + to the ship. After that cutting the zip lines would give me + the opporunity to steal the ship, leaving the cyberplasms + trapped at the top of the hotel.

    -

    Bread once again looks confused. Confidence looks - surprised, caught off guard.

    - -

    Confidence sputters, “Well, yes, of course. You’ve been - traveling for some time now, haven’t you? I can assure you - that the food and drink at Runesocesius will be better than - anything you can get here! But the choice is entirely yours. - Feel free to avail yourself of the local offerings. We will - wait here at the steps for you.”

    -

    Bread nods slowly, and seems to trailing behind the - conversation just a second or two.

    -

    Their reactions seem genuine to you despite the - circumstances. They seem like a couple of low level employees - of a luxury hotel earnestly trying to follow the instructions - they’ve been given.

    -

    There are a couple of stalls and vendors set up around the - gondola station. Many of them serve mulled wine and hot - chocolate. There is some edible fare. Hot sandwiches and - pitas. Nothing that an empanada from Enrique’s wouldn’t put to - shame. But they look hot and steamy, and of great comfort to - anybody who might be hungry and cold. There are a few fire - pits, next to which there are long benches with blankets, - where you might sit and warm up for a bit.

    -

    The gondola lift ends here, and does not continue up to the - mountain any further. The cloud steps are the most common way - to get up to the peak, and to the Runesocesius. But you’re - pretty sure one or two of the stalls here offers balloon rides - up to the peak for thrill seekers and for those with - accessibility needs.

    +

    Just a few Cyberplasms remain on the deck of the airship. + The vast majority of them have zipped into the hotel + tower.

    +

    You check your bug’s feed. It has gone almost entirely + unnoticed in the fracas, and you are able to piece together a + clear picture of the inside of the tower. It is indeed a grand + library, its galleries spanning each floor of the tower. One + of the largest collections in all of Basmentaria.

    +

    The Cyberplasms have breached the tower near its base and + are pouring into the Great Hall. You tune in just in time to + see a rail-thin, bald and mustachioed man standing defensively + in front of a display case. “No! You can’t!” he exclaims as a + disembodied sickle approaches him in a cloud of electricity + and ectoplasm.

    +

    Behind the glass in the display case is a bluish hunk of + rock the size of a melon, with gently pulsing gold veins.

    -

    “I think you already know I’m interested in neither bread - nor cheese, the second of which I certainly did not ask for - yet you tried to offer in your hasty pretence.” Inky smiles - thinly at the toques.

    -

    Taking out a small bag of gold coins and weighing it slowly - on one hand to the sound of coins clinking inside the pouch, - Inky continues, “Speak, answer our questions frankly and you - will be rewarded. The hotelier up there need not know. Breathe - a word of our little chat to another soul, however …” Inky’s - gaze cut briefly to four snow ravens perched atop a spiral - lamp post and back, “and you will learn the meaning of - disappearing without a trace.”

    +

    Inky puts away the papers they caught in passing or picked + up along the path up to read later, including a number that + from a cursory glance appear to be from a culinary collection + and a few from some moth-eaten but finely illustrated + botanical tome, among others.

    +

    Eventually arriving at the hotel entrance, Inky enters and + manages to catch a frantic-looking attendant near the + reception to ask the whereabouts of the hotelier, indicating + they had a business appointment with said manager.

    -

    Bread looks confused. You are starting to believe it is - their default expression. “So, you don’t want no - chee—”

    -

    “Our only desire is to help!” Confidence hastily - interrupts. He smiles pleasingly. “We are your guides! Not - just physically up the steps, but in all things here on Kelsun - Peak. You have but to ask, and if it is within our power to - give it, it will be yours! We are but humble ser—”

    -

    And just then Confidence is also suddenly interrupted. A - thundering boom like a canon sounds from somewhere nearby, - followed quickly by an explosion somewhere up above. Snow - ravens fly off in all directions in a panic. The sound ripples - through the mountaintop, rattling the ground on which you - stand. A bunch of small rocks and two large boulders shake - loose from the mountainside. Shoppers and travelers shout and - duck for cover as they are pelted by the scree. One of the - large boulder bounces clear over the station and plummets down - the side of the mountain before disappearing into the cloud - ocean below. The second one falls straight toward the - platform. A vendor selling wreaths and candles dives out of - the way as his stall is crushed by the boulder. A bench is - toppled over, spilling its blankets into the fire pit, and - catches fire, quickly spreading to another nearby stall.

    -

    Bread looks up at the sky, confused. You see a thin line of - black smoke starting to rise up into the sky from over the - ridge where the Runesocesius lies. Confidence shouts, and you - see him pointing at the sea, where a balloonship is rising up - out of the cloud bank, sailing quickly toward you and the - summit of Kelsun Peak.

    -

    It resembles a seafaring ship, but instead of masts and - sails, it has two large, colorful, patchwork balloons that - provide it lift. A large fan on a pivot at the rear of the - ship provides thrust. As you watch, it fires a second - canon—that is what the sound was!—nearly straight up, - arcing up and over the peak at Palace Runesocesius.

    -

    The crew of the ship bustle around on the deck of the ship, - reloading the canons, firing the balloons, shouting, giving - and following orders.

    -

    “Cyberplasms,” groans Confidence, and Bread whimpers. Alex, - that quiet, dull, static roar that has been constantly - tickling the back of your head ever since you found that - dagger seems to rise in pitch and in tone. It conveys a sense - of urgency, of warning. You can almost hear a - desperate voice behind the static fuzz cautioning you, - “Evil…”

    -

    The only corporeal element of the crew are their cybernetic - enhancements. A mechanical leg. A synthetic eye. A claw, a - hook, a hand. An arm canon. Almost all of them have more than - one, some as many as 3 or 5. The cybernetic pieces of each - individual crew member are held together by plasmic energy - arcs, crackling blue and green. And surrounding the bioware - and the plasmic arcs of each crew member, like a blanket or a - cocoon, is the translucent, wavering, ghostly form of some - humanoid long-dead.

    -

    The figure standing on the deck surveying the work of the - rest of the crew—presumably the captain—has a synthetic eye - rotating freely, 360 degrees in all directions, inside its - skull-like head; a bulky arm canon; and a thin robotic leg - terminating in a thick boot. Plasmic blasts arc through its - core, sometimes disrupting and glitching its ghostly body.

    -

    The captain raises its arm canon and shouts to the crew. - Its voice carried on the breeze sounds like something - otherworldly rising slowly from the murky deep. “Fire the - canon, boys! And fire up the balloons! Drop the ballast! That - crystal is ours!”

    -

    It happens very quickly: the ship ascends to the summit and - soon is firing grappling hooks at it to pull themselves in and - breach the walls of the hotel.

    -

    Bread looks at you, wide-eyed and trembling. They let loose - a pitiful wail and turn and start running up the steps. - “Bread!” Confidence yells after them. They cast a backward - glance at you. “I’ve got to help Bread! We’ve got to save the - hotel!” And they give chase to their fellow toque, bounding up - the cloudstuff steps.

    +

    You walk in through the hotel’s main entrance. The grandeur + would take your breath away were it not for the shouting and + the smoke and the explosions coming from down the hall to your + right.

    +

    You wave down a passing hotel clerk and inquire after the + hotelier. They are hauling a large bucket of hot water, and + carrying an oversized bundle of clean towels under one arm. + They pause for a moment to look at you incredulously before + running off in the opposite direction.

    +

    A cry rings out nearby and a Cyberplasm flies through an + open door down the hallway. It lands in a heap of crackling + energy, smears of ectoplasm streaking the floor as though it + were bleeding heavily. It seems to be barely held together by + the energy stored in its cybernetic leg and a metal skull + plate.

    +

    It scoots backwards on its hands and its butt, trying to + stand up. Two toques leap out of the door after it. You + recognize Bread and Confidence right away.

    +

    Bread has obviously been to the kitchens. They are wearing + tin baking sheets and an oversized pot on their heard as + makeshift armor, and have a couple of dangerous looking + kitchen knives hanging from their belt. At the moment they are + swinging a large meat tenderizer over their head as though it + were a war hammer.

    +

    Confidence, meanwhile, has been to the gardener’s shed. + They are wearing a heavy leather apron and thick leather + gloves, and have a trowel in each hand, and a large hoe or + rake strapped to their back.

    +

    Bread lowers their hammer on Cyberplasms head, denting the + skull plate. And Confidence darts in and stabs with both hands + at the leg. As soon as the prosthetics go offline and the + plasmic arcs cease firing, there is nothing left holding the + ectoplasm together and the ghost kind of dissipates into the + air with a soft wail.

    +

    They look up and notice you at the same time, relaxing + their offensive stances. “Oh!” cries Bread. “It’s you!”

    +

    “You don’t happen,” asks Confidence, “to need a guide, do + you?”

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    + href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00227.html">www

    + ]]> +     +     + + 41 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 41 - Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:38 +-0700 + Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:44 -0700 + + 00041 +
    +

    Alex grips the encoded message he received in reply to his + last request firmly in his coat pocket. It was simple, curt, + impactful. “Trust no one”. Which begged the question, could + even it be trusted? Was HQ compromised? His informants in + danger? His allies and leads awash in the dark grey mist of + uncertainity. Or had his message been intercepted, cracked, + and a farsical response been sent in its place. Alex wasn’t + certain which, but the strange format and unusually speedy + response had him on edge.

    +

    This anxiety didn’t boil up to the surface, not a line of + worry or hint of the inner turbulence broke his cold blue + eyes. Outwardly he was just as composed as ever, but between + these uncertainties, the loss of his uncle, and now this + utterly strange dagger he’d found amongst his uncle’s + belongings, he wasn’t certain how long that composure would + last. It didn’t held that he felt this gnawing at the back of + his mind, as though something was probing, attempting to + communicate with him, somewhere between telepathy and utter + magic, and not in any sense that Alex understood.

    +

    And here he stood, a stranger amongst amidst his uncle’s + allies, and very little intention to change that situation at + the moment.

    +

    As the gondola touched down and the Toques rushed to greet + them Alex jumped blithely off the ship and onto firm, but + fluffy, ground. He cast a look around him at what appeared to + be an ordinary port of entry, noting the crowds of people + passing by. As the Toques arrived Alex spoke curtly to them, + “Who sends you to greet us, and where do you wish to take us, + and by what means do we travel?”. Short, cut, information + only. There’s too much unnerving in an unknown situation like + this.

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    Inky greets the toques in turn politely, then turns to the + second toque and says, “A little bit of bread and no + cheese.”

    +
    +

    “Cheese?” Bread cocks their head looks at Inky with a touch + of embarrassment. They start patting at their pockets, + presumably looking for a morsel of cheese to share with the + travelers, but finding none. They groan miserably. Confidence + butts in apologetically, “There will be plenty of food at the + hotel if you want some! Some delicious fondue perhaps? Kelsun + Peak’s famous liquid gold!”

    +

    “Blavin Blandfoot arranged for us to meet you,” Bread + answers Alex. Confidence nods enthusiastically in agreement. + “But I suppose technically the hotelier sent us.” Bread points + up at the sky, in the general direction of the summit of + Kelsun Peak. “We are to escort you to Palace Runesocesius.” + They thumb over their shoulder in the general direction of the + stairs. “By way of the cloud steps. On foot.”

    +

    Confidence leans in close and lowers their voice. “A + Ginnarak Crystal! I can’t hardly believe it! Thought they had + all been lost to the ages. I hear it’s complete dumb random + luck that this one turned up. Story is, an aetherwael beached + itself on some wide zephynos boulevard. Happens sometimes. + Poor things can’t distinguish between clouds and cloudstuff. I + don’t blame ’em! At a distance, you and me can’t either! + Anyway, this aetherwael has got a harpoon stuck in its side. + Dratted poachers. May they all fall out of the sky and be + dashed to a thousand pieces on the rocks below. But it had a + harpoon in its side and was trailing behind it a float bag + tethered to the harpoon. And you probably already guessed what + was inside of it!” By the time Confidence finishes their brief + story, they are trembling and nearly breathless with + excitement.

    +

    “Anyway,” Bread interrupts their excited companion in an + attempt to restore decorum. Both of the toques have been + gently herding you toward the base of the stairs this whole + time. “You know how the zephynos are. You could give them all + the coin in Basmentaria, or something priceless like a + Ginnarak Crystal, and they’d just as quickly misplace it out + of carelessness. If it’s not a cloud they can sculpt into the + shape of seussomorph or the likeness of some fantasy creature, + they just don’t give a fig. Luckily the hotelier caught wind + of the aetherwael and found out about the crystal before they + managed to lose it, or bury it inside of a sculpture or + something silly! He has it safe and sound in the library up at + Runesocesius now.” Bread climbs the first step, his foot + sinking barely a centimeter into wispy cloud before striking + the solid cloudstuff. “Come! The hotelier will be very excited + to greet you!”

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    www

    ]]>     @@ -414,6 +458,208 @@ ]]> + + 40 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 40 - Sun, 27 Nov 2022 01:30:42 +-0700 + Wed, 14 Dec 2022 05:41:15 -0700 + + 00040 +
    +

    As Blavin finished his afterthought about handing over the + crystal, a yelp was the only warning they heard before a young + waiter was suddenly half-sprawled over the hobbit, a tray of + ginger beers toppled from his hand and the mugs’ contents + splashed onto the hobbit’s front, though fortunately some of + it ended up in a large puddle on the ground rather than on + Blavin’s person. The waiter had tripped over a bag on the + floor on his way to the table two over from theirs and was + scrambling to his feet.

    +

    “By Nullar’s nuts, I— OH SH——!! S-s-sorry, sir! Hold on, + l-lemme get— uh—” the waiter looked around frantically. The + waitress who had brought their drinks rushed over with some + clean dry towels, a few of which she handed to the other + waiter, and they both proceeded to wipe and dab at Blavin’s + damp clothes amid the hapless waiter’s babbled apologies. + Under the cover of the towels, the waitress patted down the + hobbit’s vest and replaced the sheaf of papers she had + covertly lifted from one of the vest pockets earlier with a + beguiling smile and wink. Once the beer on the floor had been + cleaned up (the despondent young waiter had offered to pay for + Blavin’s next two rounds of drinks) and the waiters had moved + on to serve other customers, Inky spoke.

    +

    “You don’t mind that we prefer to deliver it to the + Benefactor personally, of course,” Inky piped cheerily, + referring to the crystal. “The late wizard thought it was + prudent to cover our bases since you’re a new, untested case + manager after all. Besides, a little delayed gratification + never hurt anybody, did it?” Inky smiled and raised their + drink. “Another toast in tribute to Master Corraidhín! May his + courage and buoyant spirit guide us on our next mission!”

    +

    ~

    +

    When Inky stepped out of the tavern and was a few paces + away, someone clattered through the door and called out, “Hey! + You forgot your takeout!”

    +

    Inky turned in the direction of the voice. It was the + waitress who had served their table earlier. She waved a brown + paper bag in one hand. Inky gave her an embarrassed smile and + said, “Thanks.” As the bag changed hands, the waitress mouthed + soundlessly, We’ll report any more. She went back + inside, and Inky strolled off into the cool night air with the + bag securely tucked away next to a tea pouch and a more + pressing question: what blend would go best with fried + tofurkey balls?

    +

    ~

    +

    (Meanwhile)

    +

    “The BANDit and his associates had gone to the tavern.” His + assistant looked up from the scrap of paper held under a + claw.

    +

    Beaker heaved a sigh and rubbed the tips of one wing + against his forehead. Surely he had better things to do than + play Eye Spy over a bunch of crackpots, such as peer reviewing + the latest draft of a paper on the development of Cerylidian + hunting techniques for an upcoming issue of The + Ichnition. But Cio seemed to think something may come of + it and unfortunately, she was usually right about + troublemakers.

    +

    “Tell them to continue tailing from a distance,” he replied + with a distracted wave, and his assistant left the room.

    +

    Anyway, if he had the spare time, he could look at more + interesting things, like the data he had collected surrounding + the disappearance of the time anomaly that had popped up a few + weeks ago. It had happened gradually, and he still wasn’t + entirely sure what had caused this particular incident, but + the signals picked up by his instruments had later faded, just + like other ones before it. Still, it was comparatively larger + than previous ones, and seemed to have taken slightly longer + to dissipate, which meant more data points.

    +

    He stole another glance at his Dat repositories before + sighing again, swivelling his chair and attention back to the + manuscript before him. Work first … then more work.

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    The party dispersed after the discussion with Blavin. + Nobody had wanted to relinquish the crystal to him, personally + Alex felt that was prudent, though he still wasn’t sure what + the point of it all was. The foolish hobbit had blathered on + and on about their “mark” tactfully ignoring the real + questions. And then the bug, damn it, the bug that chittered + on about absolutely nothing for hours. It didn’t take Alex too + long to figure out why, but he clung to the transmission until + it died out hoping he’d be mistaken.

    +

    So there he sat, in the attic of his once Uncle, staring + bleakly into a cup of dark black coffee. The desk strewn with + hastily scratched notes pulled from the bugs feeds. At least + the one that had tracked that nosey group had proved somewhat + helpful. Turns out this little group has less friends than a + drunk who’s run up their tab.

    +

    Still, there’s no point to share any of this information. + It’s too loose, not definitive enough to action with the + group.

    +

    Alex begins to pen a message to an fellow operative, in + hopes that HQ will pick it up and assign someone to the + task.

    + 
    <- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A
+-> OP 25120 * LOC ESPER
+
+CLEARANCE: SECRET
+PACKET ENCLOSED. YOUR EYES ONLY.
+
+REQUESTING DETAIL ON BLAVIN
+EMPLOY OF "THE BENEFACTOR"
+PERCEPTIVE, AWARE OF BUGS.
+DO NOT CONTACT, DO NOT DISRUPT
+EXTREME CAUTION IMPERATIVE.
    +

    Once penned Alex encrypts it with GPG and sends it along. + These channels have worked well for him in the past. If Blavin + wants to play games, then games we shall have.

    +

    “I hate to do this” Alex mumbles to himself. “Normally I’d + trail him myself, but I don’t think I have much say in the + matter.” As it stands the group is dead set on gathering more + of these cyrstals, regardless of what the danger may be, and + if Alex wants to find his Uncle, they’re his best bet in doing + so. Blavin doesn’t even matter outside of that. But if he can + help the group reach their end faster, or force the + information out of Blavin, perhaps it can come sooner..

    +

    Alex lets out another sigh and glances wistfully around the + gloomy attic room. It looked just like he remembered his + Uncle’s office looking like at the College of Sysorcerery when + he had taught there. He always was so particular. Pushing his + chair away and grabbing his coffee he wanders to the bookshelf + where a large steamer chest sits beside it. The bookshelf is + covered in manuscripts, “Practical Common Lisp”, “The C + Programming Language Vol 2”, “RHEL 5 Systems Administration”, + each one arcane and well worn. And the amount of volumes, + sometimes it’s a wonder Corraidhin had time to do anything + other than read.

    +

    “Maybe if I had been a little more studious I’d know how to + help you..” as he pulls “A Guide to Backups and All Things + Necessary” off of the shelf a knife falls out of the book, and + clatters onto the floor glaring malevolently up at Alex.

    +
    +

    Your gondola lift finally rises above the thick layer of + clouds. The sudden flash of clear blue sky is a revelation + after ascending for nearly 60 minutes through clouds so thick + you couldn’t see through the foggy windows more than three + feet. Above you towers rocky, imposing Kelsun Peak. You can + just see a tiny portion of the hotel roof through a cleft in + the rocks. Below you, a frozen turbulent ocean of clouds + dotted with twisting leaning spires and spiraling branching + towers, all made out of solid cloudstuff. Handiwork of the + whimsical and industrious zephynos.

    +

    You spot two or three of them now, leaping and diving + playfully through the clouds like dolphins, spinning the + clouds like yarn, and packing them into solid constructs. + Their current project resembles a garden of outlandish, + distorted tubas, french horns, and trombones.

    +

    The small cloud dragons are about 6 - 8 feet long including + their thick tails. They have wide faces with round lidless + eyes, and always seem to be smiling. Their heads are topped + with multiple pairs of filamented stalks. They have six short, + stubby arms with long thin fingers that they use to knead and + pull clouds into solid shapes.

    +

    They build ceaselessly and mostly for the sake of building: + they have no apparent need for the structures themselves, + living as they do floating among the clouds. On occasion they + have been entreated to build on behalf of others. And the rare + floating palace or city can still be found drifting around + Basmentaria as a result. The great city of Vay’Neddas—tethered + to the ground by great chains to Primora in the north and + Agendell in the south—is one of their greatest enduring + works.

    +

    You approach the gondola station at the base of Kelsun + Peak, and exit your cable car as it slowly rounds the + bullwheel. There are two toques—presumably meant to be + operating the lifts—standing off to the side, ignoring their + responsibilities, complaining loudly to nobody and everybody + about being forced to work long hours and being unfairly + compensated. The tips of their soft, conical heads slump + forward, calling to mind revolutionaries, or smurfs.

    +

    It is wicked cold as you step out onto the platform and the + wind nips and bites at you relentlessly.

    +

    At the edge of the platform, foggy white steps made of firm + cloudstuff climb up around the side of the mountain peak to + the Palace Runesocesius. Once the conspicuously extravagant + residence of one of Basmentaria’s most powerful politicians, + it has since—after its owner fell from public favor and was + routed out—been gutted and transformed into a luxury hotel of + equally conspicuous extravagance. It continues to be one of + the highest inhabitable places on Basmentaria.

    +

    Two small toques at the base of the steps rush forward to + meet you—the floppy tips of their coneheads waggling side to + side in their exuberance—and introduce themselves as + Confidence and Bread, your guides. They have been instructed + to guide you up to Runesocesius where you will take posession + of the Ginnarak Crystal.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    www

    + ]]> +     +     43 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) @@ -526,153 +772,240 @@ - 44 + 48 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 44 - Tue, 20 Dec 2022 08:47:08 + 48 - Wed, 28 Dec 2022 16:08:10 -0700 - Tue, 20 Dec 2022 08:47:11 -0700 + Wed, 28 Dec 2022 16:08:12 -0700 00044 +

    00048

    -

    As Alex spots the sunspoke valve he grabs it and cranks it - up to the 2/3 mark. “Sorry little friend, we’re going to need - a little bit more juice”. The baloon lurches upwards as air - rushes in feeding the sunspoke, causing it to burn more - intensely. After setting the sunspoke ablaze and shouting back - to the balloon’s owner Alex takes account of his surroundings. - It’s during this time he spots the bloodied, moving blankets. - They seem to writhe, as though something beneath them is - injured.

    -

    Gripping the dagger firmly in one hand Alex grabs the - blankets from the corner of the balloon basket revealing - whatever lay beneath.

    +

    Alex snatches up his new hemo friend cheering huzzah as he + does. We’ve got a pirate ship little guy!

    +

    Rushing about the deck Alex quickly takes stock of what’s + left, plenty of ammo, general supplies, fuel, perfectly + provisioned for a quick crystal kidnapping. Smart move + pirates, but not smart enough.

    +

    Alex heads to the helm and steadies the ship guiding it out + and away from the library, can’t have any of the remaining + cyberplasms easily reboarding it now can we? Once the ship is + out of range Alex checks his S.T.A.G drone’s twtxt feed for + updates.

    + 
    @<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Cyberplasm approaching crystal
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/gps> approx library, top level
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/audio> Cyberplasm threatens violence
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Inky, bread, confidence enter subvertly
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Visual feed impaired due to unknown smog
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/audio> Angry tones, uncertain who
    +

    Not particularly helpful, and it rules out my first + thought. I could blindly fire the broadside canons into the + library hoping to hit the cyberplasm, but I’d be just as + likely to hit Inky, Bread, Confidence or any other innocent + bystander. I’ve got to get a message to her.

    +

    Alex quickly dispatches a command to the S.T.A.G

    + 
    @<drone/fhsoa7483/cmd> Seek Inky
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/relay> Secured ship, inform A.I of intentions, will coordinate rescue via the stolen ship
    +

    If all we’ve got is this, then we’d best be ready for a + quick rescue. Alex busies himself preparing a new zipline and + mooring lines. He then loads the boradside canons and the top + deck swivel canons. It’ll need to be quick, but if I’m ready I + can swing the ship in close, deploy a zipline for Inky to zip + down to the ship with, and defend the retreat with the + swivels. If everyone retreats to the ship we can take a note + from the pirates playbook and blast them to hell with the + broadsides while we make our retreat. Or simply run I suppose, + but I dislike the idea of leaving innocent people to deal with + angry pirates

    -

    The sunspoke stretches its little arms and wriggles its - little fingers. It sighs happily, luxuriating in the extra - fuel. It burns twice as bright, shooting a hot jet of bright - yellow flame up into the parachute. The sunspoke starts to - glow a molten red, and you start to rise faster.

    -

    As you rise up over the peak, you can finally spot the - Runesocesius. The grand hotel is draped over the top of the - mountain, clinging to it like a dragon resting on its - hoard.

    -

    The “cyberplasms” as Confidence called them have docked to - the side of a tower on the other side of the peak from you. - They have shot a large hole in the side of the tower, and you - can see them now starting to zipline into the building. A - thick plume of black smoke billows out of the side of the - tower, carrying pages and pages of loose paper into the air - with it. They rain down like snow. The tower must house an - extensive library.

    -

    You cautiously pull back a corner of the bloody blankets, - jeweled dagger raised and ready to strike. You reveal a small - bloody furry blob. You see two big round eyes, a short-snouted - face, and enormous pointed ears. It quickly looks away from - you, chirps pathetically, and trembles as it cowers in place. - You have found a frightened hemogoblin stowaway!

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     - - 41 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 41 - Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:38 --0700 - Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:44 -0700 - - 00041 +

    The hemogoblin cheers you on as you take possession of the + airship, accidentally squirting a few jets of rust colored + blood in its excitement. Must still be quite young. They don’t + gain full control of their blood sacs until well into + adulthood.

    +

    You check your S.T.A.G. drone’s twtxt feeds. This A.I. + seems especially reliable, you note with satisfaction. Its + updates are regular and detailed. Even when there’s not much + to report.

    +

    You load up the canons and take control of the helm. The + hemogoblin stands at attention at the broadside canons with a + cracklesparkler, ready to light the fuse at your command. You + steer the ship a short distance away from the hotel, hopefully + out of reach of the cyberplasms. But within range of your own + canons and ziplines.

    -

    Alex grips the encoded message he received in reply to his - last request firmly in his coat pocket. It was simple, curt, - impactful. “Trust no one”. Which begged the question, could - even it be trusted? Was HQ compromised? His informants in - danger? His allies and leads awash in the dark grey mist of - uncertainity. Or had his message been intercepted, cracked, - and a farsical response been sent in its place. Alex wasn’t - certain which, but the strange format and unusually speedy - response had him on edge.

    -

    This anxiety didn’t boil up to the surface, not a line of - worry or hint of the inner turbulence broke his cold blue - eyes. Outwardly he was just as composed as ever, but between - these uncertainties, the loss of his uncle, and now this - utterly strange dagger he’d found amongst his uncle’s - belongings, he wasn’t certain how long that composure would - last. It didn’t held that he felt this gnawing at the back of - his mind, as though something was probing, attempting to - communicate with him, somewhere between telepathy and utter - magic, and not in any sense that Alex understood.

    -

    And here he stood, a stranger amongst amidst his uncle’s - allies, and very little intention to change that situation at - the moment.

    -

    As the gondola touched down and the Toques rushed to greet - them Alex jumped blithely off the ship and onto firm, but - fluffy, ground. He cast a look around him at what appeared to - be an ordinary port of entry, noting the crowds of people - passing by. As the Toques arrived Alex spoke curtly to them, - “Who sends you to greet us, and where do you wish to take us, - and by what means do we travel?”. Short, cut, information - only. There’s too much unnerving in an unknown situation like - this.

    +

    While Inky has the attention of both guides, they close the + door again until it is slightly ajar, and make a series of + hand gestures. First pointing at themselves, at their own + forearm and fist held stiffly to mimic the shape of the + captain’s arm cannon, to indicate that Inky will handle the + Cyberplasm. Then Inky points the two fingers of a hand at + Bread and Confidence, turns the two fingers downward and + swings them back and forth in opposite directions to convey + walking. This was followed by a single finger pointing in the + general direction they had last seen the hotelier; then the + finger hooks inward, the arm repeating a yanking motion once + or twice before ending the gesture with a thumb tossed over + their shoulder towards the hallway away from the staff + entrance, to ask them to get their boss out of the library to + a safe spot.

    +

    Without waiting for confirmation from the toques, Inky + opens the door, abruptly stops, turns and shoves a compostable + bag of mango-flavoured croutons at Bread, gives them a thumbs + up in return and a mildly disturbing, eye-crinkling smile + behind their kerchief, before slipping inside the smoky room. + One hand is already pulling out a thin, extendable metal + walking pole with a carrying strap visually resembling the + type used by hikers from their courier bag to check for + obstacles amid the lowered visibility.

    +

    Confidence watches all of your hand gestures closely, and + then nods resolutely. They draw their large hoe, and turn and + start to crouch run toward the main entrance to to the main + hall of the library.

    +

    Bread looks confused, but ready to follow Confidence. They + grab their heavy meat tenderizer and crouch down in imitation + of their fellow toque. Before they can run off, you shove a + bag of croutons into their arms. “Small. Toasted. Bread,” they + intonate slowly in wonder. The confusion falls from their face + as they break into a wide grin. “Now I’ll never disappear + without a trace,” they laugh. They thank you and run like a + duck after Confidence.

    +
    +

    Inside, Inky lobs the empty glass vial that had held the + unpleasantly pungent organic catalyst at a spot the floor + several paces roughly from where the Cyberplasm — presumably + the leader of the group — had been standing earlier, in the + opposite direction of the staff entrance in an attempt to + divert attention from the hotelier’s last location. As they + edge along the wall towards the tower stairs, walking pole + looped over one hand, Inky grabs a few small hardcover + novellas from a wall shelf. Straightening from their crouch, + Inky tosses them one at a time horizontally in quick + succession like a discus, but without the full-body turning + motion, across the hall towards the sounds of frustrated + groans and angry muttering. The first starting higher around + where a human head might have once been, one at waist height + and another at the juncture below where ectoplasmic knees + might meet prosthetic legs.

    +
    +

    You pick up three hardback novellas. If it wasn’t so smoky, + and if you weren’t so much in the middle of a potentially life + and death struggle with the Cyberplasm captain of a pirate + airship, you might notice their titles: Stop and Smell the + Crystals, Living the Corn, and A Big + Moon.

    + +

    Anyway, you start flinging.

    + +

    After you toss the catalyst, you can see a plasmic form + heavily blurred and obscured by the smoke turn in that + direction. You fling Stop and Smell the Crystals at + it, and it spins like a discus and smashes into the pirate + right in the face, above the chin. It howls and brings its + hand to its face, and turns and charges up its arm cannon.

    + +

    Mostly going on sound now, you fling Living the + Corn at the pirate’s moan and at the electric whine of + the canon charging. You hear the canon discharge but the + half-blind pirate fires wide. You see the flash of the energy + blast hitting something, someone, else obscured by smoke in + the middle distance between the two of you. A man screams out + in pain. Right after the muffled thump of his body hitting the + ground, you hear the clinking and ringing of something heavy + and metallic striking and rolling across the floor.

    +

    Living on Corn strikes the pirate in the elbow, + and with a fizzle and a spark, the arm cannon sputters + offline.

    + +

    The pirate stumbles forward, half-lame and half-blind. It + stoops and scoops up a heavy melon-sized object. It stomps its + cybernetic boot, and small rockets spring out from small + compartments on either side of its ankle. They start to fire + up and the pirate is about to make its escape when A Big + Moon hits it right above knee and severs the ghost’s + final connection to its final enhancement.

    +

    It groans as it starts to dissipate, dropping the heavy + object once more.

    +

    “My crew, it is too late for me! I shall never have a new + body now! But it’s not too late for you! You must bring the + quintessence to Mother!”

    +

    And then the pirate’s essence is diluted in the smoke + filling the library.

    +
    +

    At that moment Inky hears a very low whirring accompanied + by clicking sounds behind them and without glancing backwards, + swings the walking pole at the source of the buzzing. The + stick collides with something, sending it careening backwards + with a light clatter through what is likely a row of + bookshelves around the area already partially emptied of their + contents. From the static noise that ensues, Inky realises + whatever it was may or may not have been one of the wizard’s + bugs hovering in the shadows earlier or a disembodied, + ectoplasm-spewing prosthetic limb after all. Inky calls out + sheepishly, “Sorry, Young Master Alex! Was that yours? Oops? + Haha?” before smashing two more empty glass bottles as a + distraction for any remaining Cyberplasms lurking on the same + floor, and sprints up the tower stairs, using the banisters as + a guide.

    +
    +

    The Amber Imp is feverishly reporting all the goings on + from inside the S.T.A.G. drone when Inky strikes its + conveyance with their walking pole. The bug is destroyed on + contact. The imp barely manages to fire off one final End Of + Transmission post before ejecting from the craft, which sinks + below like an exploded firework. It drifts on the currents of + smoke and flows out through the hole in the wall into the open + air outside. The imp falls through open space and starts to + think back on its life. So much time and energy spent chasing + its hopes and dreams, its goals and aspirations. So much of + its life wasted in pursuit. Always reaching, never grasping. + Is that all it gets? Is this the end? Did it ever really even + get a chance to really live?

    +

    These thoughts race through its head as it falls, but are + cut short when it abruptly lands on a hard bed of cloudstuff. + It tumbles and rolls and comes to a stop. And when it looks + up, amazed to be alive and vowing to make the most of this + second chance at life, it looks up into the benevolent smiling + face of a pink zephynos.

    ~

    -
    -

    Inky greets the toques in turn politely, then turns to the - second toque and says, “A little bit of bread and no - cheese.”

    -
    -

    “Cheese?” Bread cocks their head looks at Inky with a touch - of embarrassment. They start patting at their pockets, - presumably looking for a morsel of cheese to share with the - travelers, but finding none. They groan miserably. Confidence - butts in apologetically, “There will be plenty of food at the - hotel if you want some! Some delicious fondue perhaps? Kelsun - Peak’s famous liquid gold!”

    -

    “Blavin Blandfoot arranged for us to meet you,” Bread - answers Alex. Confidence nods enthusiastically in agreement. - “But I suppose technically the hotelier sent us.” Bread points - up at the sky, in the general direction of the summit of - Kelsun Peak. “We are to escort you to Palace Runesocesius.” - They thumb over their shoulder in the general direction of the - stairs. “By way of the cloud steps. On foot.”

    -

    Confidence leans in close and lowers their voice. “A - Ginnarak Crystal! I can’t hardly believe it! Thought they had - all been lost to the ages. I hear it’s complete dumb random - luck that this one turned up. Story is, an aetherwael beached - itself on some wide zephynos boulevard. Happens sometimes. - Poor things can’t distinguish between clouds and cloudstuff. I - don’t blame ’em! At a distance, you and me can’t either! - Anyway, this aetherwael has got a harpoon stuck in its side. - Dratted poachers. May they all fall out of the sky and be - dashed to a thousand pieces on the rocks below. But it had a - harpoon in its side and was trailing behind it a float bag - tethered to the harpoon. And you probably already guessed what - was inside of it!” By the time Confidence finishes their brief - story, they are trembling and nearly breathless with - excitement.

    -

    “Anyway,” Bread interrupts their excited companion in an - attempt to restore decorum. Both of the toques have been - gently herding you toward the base of the stairs this whole - time. “You know how the zephynos are. You could give them all - the coin in Basmentaria, or something priceless like a - Ginnarak Crystal, and they’d just as quickly misplace it out - of carelessness. If it’s not a cloud they can sculpt into the - shape of seussomorph or the likeness of some fantasy creature, - they just don’t give a fig. Luckily the hotelier caught wind - of the aetherwael and found out about the crystal before they - managed to lose it, or bury it inside of a sculpture or - something silly! He has it safe and sound in the library up at - Runesocesius now.” Bread climbs the first step, his foot - sinking barely a centimeter into wispy cloud before striking - the solid cloudstuff. “Come! The hotelier will be very excited - to greet you!”

    +

    Inky, you cross the floor to where the pirate had its last + stand. You find what appears to be approximately one-fifth of + the hotelier, and wonder idly where the rest of him might be. + And you notice a conspicuous lack of Ginnarak Crystal.

    +

    You do however notice a soft crunch underfoot. And when you + bend down to inspect it—disorganized cyberplasms running amok + in the smoke behind you—you discover a trail of mango flavored + croutons leading across the hall to the tower stairs.

    +

    You sprint up the stairs using the banisters as a guide. + The breadcrumb trail ends on the seventh level, where + Confidence sits slumped against the wall between two + bookshelves. They have one arm around four-fifths of the + hotelier, his shocked gaze telling you everything you need to + know, that he is entirely dead but just doesn’t know it yet. + Their other arm is around Bread, who has suffered a massive + wound to the chest and is only slightly more alive than the + hotelier. On the ground between Confidence’s legs is the + Ginnarak Crystal. Several loose pages are stuck to its sides, + held in place by drying blood and ectoplasm.

    +

    Confidence looks at you and smiles wearily. “We left a + trail for you. It was Bread’s idea. They were a good + guide.”

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    + href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00250.html">www

    ]]>     @@ -883,298 +1216,203 @@ - 45 + 44 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 45 - Tue, 20 Dec 2022 10:15:23 + 44 - Tue, 20 Dec 2022 08:47:08 -0700 - Thu, 22 Dec 2022 09:29:11 -0700 + Tue, 20 Dec 2022 08:47:11 -0700 00045 +

    00044

    -

    As the blankets draw back from the bloody mass, a cute - little hemogoblin appears. “Aww little fellas just scared.” - Alex lowers the dagger, but otherwise ignores the hemogoblin. - Best to leave it be for now, there’s more important - things.

    -

    As the balloon gets within range of the ship Alex begins to - scan the deck for Cyberplasms. At the same time he checks his - bug to track the location of the cyberplasms more acutely. It - looks like there may be an opporunity to jump from the balloon - to the ship. After that cutting the zip lines would give me - the opporunity to steal the ship, leaving the cyberplasms - trapped at the top of the hotel.

    +

    As Alex spots the sunspoke valve he grabs it and cranks it + up to the 2/3 mark. “Sorry little friend, we’re going to need + a little bit more juice”. The baloon lurches upwards as air + rushes in feeding the sunspoke, causing it to burn more + intensely. After setting the sunspoke ablaze and shouting back + to the balloon’s owner Alex takes account of his surroundings. + It’s during this time he spots the bloodied, moving blankets. + They seem to writhe, as though something beneath them is + injured.

    +

    Gripping the dagger firmly in one hand Alex grabs the + blankets from the corner of the balloon basket revealing + whatever lay beneath.

    -

    Just a few Cyberplasms remain on the deck of the airship. - The vast majority of them have zipped into the hotel - tower.

    -

    You check your bug’s feed. It has gone almost entirely - unnoticed in the fracas, and you are able to piece together a - clear picture of the inside of the tower. It is indeed a grand - library, its galleries spanning each floor of the tower. One - of the largest collections in all of Basmentaria.

    -

    The Cyberplasms have breached the tower near its base and - are pouring into the Great Hall. You tune in just in time to - see a rail-thin, bald and mustachioed man standing defensively - in front of a display case. “No! You can’t!” he exclaims as a - disembodied sickle approaches him in a cloud of electricity - and ectoplasm.

    -

    Behind the glass in the display case is a bluish hunk of - rock the size of a melon, with gently pulsing gold veins.

    -
    -

    Inky puts away the papers they caught in passing or picked - up along the path up to read later, including a number that - from a cursory glance appear to be from a culinary collection - and a few from some moth-eaten but finely illustrated - botanical tome, among others.

    -

    Eventually arriving at the hotel entrance, Inky enters and - manages to catch a frantic-looking attendant near the - reception to ask the whereabouts of the hotelier, indicating - they had a business appointment with said manager.

    -
    -

    You walk in through the hotel’s main entrance. The grandeur - would take your breath away were it not for the shouting and - the smoke and the explosions coming from down the hall to your - right.

    -

    You wave down a passing hotel clerk and inquire after the - hotelier. They are hauling a large bucket of hot water, and - carrying an oversized bundle of clean towels under one arm. - They pause for a moment to look at you incredulously before - running off in the opposite direction.

    -

    A cry rings out nearby and a Cyberplasm flies through an - open door down the hallway. It lands in a heap of crackling - energy, smears of ectoplasm streaking the floor as though it - were bleeding heavily. It seems to be barely held together by - the energy stored in its cybernetic leg and a metal skull - plate.

    -

    It scoots backwards on its hands and its butt, trying to - stand up. Two toques leap out of the door after it. You - recognize Bread and Confidence right away.

    -

    Bread has obviously been to the kitchens. They are wearing - tin baking sheets and an oversized pot on their heard as - makeshift armor, and have a couple of dangerous looking - kitchen knives hanging from their belt. At the moment they are - swinging a large meat tenderizer over their head as though it - were a war hammer.

    -

    Confidence, meanwhile, has been to the gardener’s shed. - They are wearing a heavy leather apron and thick leather - gloves, and have a trowel in each hand, and a large hoe or - rake strapped to their back.

    -

    Bread lowers their hammer on Cyberplasms head, denting the - skull plate. And Confidence darts in and stabs with both hands - at the leg. As soon as the prosthetics go offline and the - plasmic arcs cease firing, there is nothing left holding the - ectoplasm together and the ghost kind of dissipates into the - air with a soft wail.

    -

    They look up and notice you at the same time, relaxing - their offensive stances. “Oh!” cries Bread. “It’s you!”

    -

    “You don’t happen,” asks Confidence, “to need a guide, do - you?”

    +

    The sunspoke stretches its little arms and wriggles its + little fingers. It sighs happily, luxuriating in the extra + fuel. It burns twice as bright, shooting a hot jet of bright + yellow flame up into the parachute. The sunspoke starts to + glow a molten red, and you start to rise faster.

    +

    As you rise up over the peak, you can finally spot the + Runesocesius. The grand hotel is draped over the top of the + mountain, clinging to it like a dragon resting on its + hoard.

    +

    The “cyberplasms” as Confidence called them have docked to + the side of a tower on the other side of the peak from you. + They have shot a large hole in the side of the tower, and you + can see them now starting to zipline into the building. A + thick plume of black smoke billows out of the side of the + tower, carrying pages and pages of loose paper into the air + with it. They rain down like snow. The tower must house an + extensive library.

    +

    You cautiously pull back a corner of the bloody blankets, + jeweled dagger raised and ready to strike. You reveal a small + bloody furry blob. You see two big round eyes, a short-snouted + face, and enormous pointed ears. It quickly looks away from + you, chirps pathetically, and trembles as it cowers in place. + You have found a frightened hemogoblin stowaway!

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    + href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00219.html">www

    ]]>     - 40 + 42 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 40 - Sun, 27 Nov 2022 01:30:42 + 42 - Sat, 17 Dec 2022 08:01:41 -0700 - Wed, 14 Dec 2022 05:41:15 -0700 + Sat, 17 Dec 2022 08:01:48 -0700 00040 +

    00042

    -

    As Blavin finished his afterthought about handing over the - crystal, a yelp was the only warning they heard before a young - waiter was suddenly half-sprawled over the hobbit, a tray of - ginger beers toppled from his hand and the mugs’ contents - splashed onto the hobbit’s front, though fortunately some of - it ended up in a large puddle on the ground rather than on - Blavin’s person. The waiter had tripped over a bag on the - floor on his way to the table two over from theirs and was - scrambling to his feet.

    -

    “By Nullar’s nuts, I— OH SH——!! S-s-sorry, sir! Hold on, - l-lemme get— uh—” the waiter looked around frantically. The - waitress who had brought their drinks rushed over with some - clean dry towels, a few of which she handed to the other - waiter, and they both proceeded to wipe and dab at Blavin’s - damp clothes amid the hapless waiter’s babbled apologies. - Under the cover of the towels, the waitress patted down the - hobbit’s vest and replaced the sheaf of papers she had - covertly lifted from one of the vest pockets earlier with a - beguiling smile and wink. Once the beer on the floor had been - cleaned up (the despondent young waiter had offered to pay for - Blavin’s next two rounds of drinks) and the waiters had moved - on to serve other customers, Inky spoke.

    -

    “You don’t mind that we prefer to deliver it to the - Benefactor personally, of course,” Inky piped cheerily, - referring to the crystal. “The late wizard thought it was - prudent to cover our bases since you’re a new, untested case - manager after all. Besides, a little delayed gratification - never hurt anybody, did it?” Inky smiled and raised their - drink. “Another toast in tribute to Master Corraidhín! May his - courage and buoyant spirit guide us on our next mission!”

    -

    ~

    -

    When Inky stepped out of the tavern and was a few paces - away, someone clattered through the door and called out, “Hey! - You forgot your takeout!”

    -

    Inky turned in the direction of the voice. It was the - waitress who had served their table earlier. She waved a brown - paper bag in one hand. Inky gave her an embarrassed smile and - said, “Thanks.” As the bag changed hands, the waitress mouthed - soundlessly, We’ll report any more. She went back - inside, and Inky strolled off into the cool night air with the - bag securely tucked away next to a tea pouch and a more - pressing question: what blend would go best with fried - tofurkey balls?

    -

    ~

    -

    (Meanwhile)

    -

    “The BANDit and his associates had gone to the tavern.” His - assistant looked up from the scrap of paper held under a - claw.

    -

    Beaker heaved a sigh and rubbed the tips of one wing - against his forehead. Surely he had better things to do than - play Eye Spy over a bunch of crackpots, such as peer reviewing - the latest draft of a paper on the development of Cerylidian - hunting techniques for an upcoming issue of The - Ichnition. But Cio seemed to think something may come of - it and unfortunately, she was usually right about - troublemakers.

    -

    “Tell them to continue tailing from a distance,” he replied - with a distracted wave, and his assistant left the room.

    -

    Anyway, if he had the spare time, he could look at more - interesting things, like the data he had collected surrounding - the disappearance of the time anomaly that had popped up a few - weeks ago. It had happened gradually, and he still wasn’t - entirely sure what had caused this particular incident, but - the signals picked up by his instruments had later faded, just - like other ones before it. Still, it was comparatively larger - than previous ones, and seemed to have taken slightly longer - to dissipate, which meant more data points.

    -

    He stole another glance at his Dat repositories before - sighing again, swivelling his chair and attention back to the - manuscript before him. Work first … then more work.

    +

    This seems a bit strange. Certainly Blavin has been pulling + strings from behind the scenes the whole time, but why + coordinate a special escort for us when there are other + retrieval teams, and we’ve been less than amicable with the + bloke the entire time.. Alex thinks to himself.

    +

    DM: I’d like to check for any signs of deceit in the + toques demeanor or communcations with us

    +

    Confidence you said right? What would you do if I simply + chose not to accompany you? I mean, there’s a whole city + around us, perhaps I’d prefer a drink before climbing a + mountains worth of stairs. Or better yet, I could get back on + the boat and ride to the top and same myself the hassle.

    -

    ~

    +

    Bread once again looks confused. Confidence looks + surprised, caught off guard.

    + +

    Confidence sputters, “Well, yes, of course. You’ve been + traveling for some time now, haven’t you? I can assure you + that the food and drink at Runesocesius will be better than + anything you can get here! But the choice is entirely yours. + Feel free to avail yourself of the local offerings. We will + wait here at the steps for you.”

    +

    Bread nods slowly, and seems to trailing behind the + conversation just a second or two.

    +

    Their reactions seem genuine to you despite the + circumstances. They seem like a couple of low level employees + of a luxury hotel earnestly trying to follow the instructions + they’ve been given.

    +

    There are a couple of stalls and vendors set up around the + gondola station. Many of them serve mulled wine and hot + chocolate. There is some edible fare. Hot sandwiches and + pitas. Nothing that an empanada from Enrique’s wouldn’t put to + shame. But they look hot and steamy, and of great comfort to + anybody who might be hungry and cold. There are a few fire + pits, next to which there are long benches with blankets, + where you might sit and warm up for a bit.

    +

    The gondola lift ends here, and does not continue up to the + mountain any further. The cloud steps are the most common way + to get up to the peak, and to the Runesocesius. But you’re + pretty sure one or two of the stalls here offers balloon rides + up to the peak for thrill seekers and for those with + accessibility needs.

    -

    The party dispersed after the discussion with Blavin. - Nobody had wanted to relinquish the crystal to him, personally - Alex felt that was prudent, though he still wasn’t sure what - the point of it all was. The foolish hobbit had blathered on - and on about their “mark” tactfully ignoring the real - questions. And then the bug, damn it, the bug that chittered - on about absolutely nothing for hours. It didn’t take Alex too - long to figure out why, but he clung to the transmission until - it died out hoping he’d be mistaken.

    -

    So there he sat, in the attic of his once Uncle, staring - bleakly into a cup of dark black coffee. The desk strewn with - hastily scratched notes pulled from the bugs feeds. At least - the one that had tracked that nosey group had proved somewhat - helpful. Turns out this little group has less friends than a - drunk who’s run up their tab.

    -

    Still, there’s no point to share any of this information. - It’s too loose, not definitive enough to action with the - group.

    -

    Alex begins to pen a message to an fellow operative, in - hopes that HQ will pick it up and assign someone to the - task.

    - 
    <- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A
--> OP 25120 * LOC ESPER
-
-CLEARANCE: SECRET
-PACKET ENCLOSED. YOUR EYES ONLY.
-
-REQUESTING DETAIL ON BLAVIN
-EMPLOY OF "THE BENEFACTOR"
-PERCEPTIVE, AWARE OF BUGS.
-DO NOT CONTACT, DO NOT DISRUPT
-EXTREME CAUTION IMPERATIVE.
    -

    Once penned Alex encrypts it with GPG and sends it along. - These channels have worked well for him in the past. If Blavin - wants to play games, then games we shall have.

    -

    “I hate to do this” Alex mumbles to himself. “Normally I’d - trail him myself, but I don’t think I have much say in the - matter.” As it stands the group is dead set on gathering more - of these cyrstals, regardless of what the danger may be, and - if Alex wants to find his Uncle, they’re his best bet in doing - so. Blavin doesn’t even matter outside of that. But if he can - help the group reach their end faster, or force the - information out of Blavin, perhaps it can come sooner..

    -

    Alex lets out another sigh and glances wistfully around the - gloomy attic room. It looked just like he remembered his - Uncle’s office looking like at the College of Sysorcerery when - he had taught there. He always was so particular. Pushing his - chair away and grabbing his coffee he wanders to the bookshelf - where a large steamer chest sits beside it. The bookshelf is - covered in manuscripts, “Practical Common Lisp”, “The C - Programming Language Vol 2”, “RHEL 5 Systems Administration”, - each one arcane and well worn. And the amount of volumes, - sometimes it’s a wonder Corraidhin had time to do anything - other than read.

    -

    “Maybe if I had been a little more studious I’d know how to - help you..” as he pulls “A Guide to Backups and All Things - Necessary” off of the shelf a knife falls out of the book, and - clatters onto the floor glaring malevolently up at Alex.

    +

    “I think you already know I’m interested in neither bread + nor cheese, the second of which I certainly did not ask for + yet you tried to offer in your hasty pretence.” Inky smiles + thinly at the toques.

    +

    Taking out a small bag of gold coins and weighing it slowly + on one hand to the sound of coins clinking inside the pouch, + Inky continues, “Speak, answer our questions frankly and you + will be rewarded. The hotelier up there need not know. Breathe + a word of our little chat to another soul, however …” Inky’s + gaze cut briefly to four snow ravens perched atop a spiral + lamp post and back, “and you will learn the meaning of + disappearing without a trace.”

    -

    Your gondola lift finally rises above the thick layer of - clouds. The sudden flash of clear blue sky is a revelation - after ascending for nearly 60 minutes through clouds so thick - you couldn’t see through the foggy windows more than three - feet. Above you towers rocky, imposing Kelsun Peak. You can - just see a tiny portion of the hotel roof through a cleft in - the rocks. Below you, a frozen turbulent ocean of clouds - dotted with twisting leaning spires and spiraling branching - towers, all made out of solid cloudstuff. Handiwork of the - whimsical and industrious zephynos.

    -

    You spot two or three of them now, leaping and diving - playfully through the clouds like dolphins, spinning the - clouds like yarn, and packing them into solid constructs. - Their current project resembles a garden of outlandish, - distorted tubas, french horns, and trombones.

    -

    The small cloud dragons are about 6 - 8 feet long including - their thick tails. They have wide faces with round lidless - eyes, and always seem to be smiling. Their heads are topped - with multiple pairs of filamented stalks. They have six short, - stubby arms with long thin fingers that they use to knead and - pull clouds into solid shapes.

    -

    They build ceaselessly and mostly for the sake of building: - they have no apparent need for the structures themselves, - living as they do floating among the clouds. On occasion they - have been entreated to build on behalf of others. And the rare - floating palace or city can still be found drifting around - Basmentaria as a result. The great city of Vay’Neddas—tethered - to the ground by great chains to Primora in the north and - Agendell in the south—is one of their greatest enduring - works.

    -

    You approach the gondola station at the base of Kelsun - Peak, and exit your cable car as it slowly rounds the - bullwheel. There are two toques—presumably meant to be - operating the lifts—standing off to the side, ignoring their - responsibilities, complaining loudly to nobody and everybody - about being forced to work long hours and being unfairly - compensated. The tips of their soft, conical heads slump - forward, calling to mind revolutionaries, or smurfs.

    -

    It is wicked cold as you step out onto the platform and the - wind nips and bites at you relentlessly.

    -

    At the edge of the platform, foggy white steps made of firm - cloudstuff climb up around the side of the mountain peak to - the Palace Runesocesius. Once the conspicuously extravagant - residence of one of Basmentaria’s most powerful politicians, - it has since—after its owner fell from public favor and was - routed out—been gutted and transformed into a luxury hotel of - equally conspicuous extravagance. It continues to be one of - the highest inhabitable places on Basmentaria.

    -

    Two small toques at the base of the steps rush forward to - meet you—the floppy tips of their coneheads waggling side to - side in their exuberance—and introduce themselves as - Confidence and Bread, your guides. They have been instructed - to guide you up to Runesocesius where you will take posession - of the Ginnarak Crystal.

    +

    Bread looks confused. You are starting to believe it is + their default expression. “So, you don’t want no + chee—”

    +

    “Our only desire is to help!” Confidence hastily + interrupts. He smiles pleasingly. “We are your guides! Not + just physically up the steps, but in all things here on Kelsun + Peak. You have but to ask, and if it is within our power to + give it, it will be yours! We are but humble ser—”

    +

    And just then Confidence is also suddenly interrupted. A + thundering boom like a canon sounds from somewhere nearby, + followed quickly by an explosion somewhere up above. Snow + ravens fly off in all directions in a panic. The sound ripples + through the mountaintop, rattling the ground on which you + stand. A bunch of small rocks and two large boulders shake + loose from the mountainside. Shoppers and travelers shout and + duck for cover as they are pelted by the scree. One of the + large boulder bounces clear over the station and plummets down + the side of the mountain before disappearing into the cloud + ocean below. The second one falls straight toward the + platform. A vendor selling wreaths and candles dives out of + the way as his stall is crushed by the boulder. A bench is + toppled over, spilling its blankets into the fire pit, and + catches fire, quickly spreading to another nearby stall.

    +

    Bread looks up at the sky, confused. You see a thin line of + black smoke starting to rise up into the sky from over the + ridge where the Runesocesius lies. Confidence shouts, and you + see him pointing at the sea, where a balloonship is rising up + out of the cloud bank, sailing quickly toward you and the + summit of Kelsun Peak.

    +

    It resembles a seafaring ship, but instead of masts and + sails, it has two large, colorful, patchwork balloons that + provide it lift. A large fan on a pivot at the rear of the + ship provides thrust. As you watch, it fires a second + canon—that is what the sound was!—nearly straight up, + arcing up and over the peak at Palace Runesocesius.

    +

    The crew of the ship bustle around on the deck of the ship, + reloading the canons, firing the balloons, shouting, giving + and following orders.

    +

    “Cyberplasms,” groans Confidence, and Bread whimpers. Alex, + that quiet, dull, static roar that has been constantly + tickling the back of your head ever since you found that + dagger seems to rise in pitch and in tone. It conveys a sense + of urgency, of warning. You can almost hear a + desperate voice behind the static fuzz cautioning you, + “Evil…”

    +

    The only corporeal element of the crew are their cybernetic + enhancements. A mechanical leg. A synthetic eye. A claw, a + hook, a hand. An arm canon. Almost all of them have more than + one, some as many as 3 or 5. The cybernetic pieces of each + individual crew member are held together by plasmic energy + arcs, crackling blue and green. And surrounding the bioware + and the plasmic arcs of each crew member, like a blanket or a + cocoon, is the translucent, wavering, ghostly form of some + humanoid long-dead.

    +

    The figure standing on the deck surveying the work of the + rest of the crew—presumably the captain—has a synthetic eye + rotating freely, 360 degrees in all directions, inside its + skull-like head; a bulky arm canon; and a thin robotic leg + terminating in a thick boot. Plasmic blasts arc through its + core, sometimes disrupting and glitching its ghostly body.

    +

    The captain raises its arm canon and shouts to the crew. + Its voice carried on the breeze sounds like something + otherworldly rising slowly from the murky deep. “Fire the + canon, boys! And fire up the balloons! Drop the ballast! That + crystal is ours!”

    +

    It happens very quickly: the ship ascends to the summit and + soon is firing grappling hooks at it to pull themselves in and + breach the walls of the hotel.

    +

    Bread looks at you, wide-eyed and trembling. They let loose + a pitiful wail and turn and start running up the steps. + “Bread!” Confidence yells after them. They cast a backward + glance at you. “I’ve got to help Bread! We’ve got to save the + hotel!” And they give chase to their fellow toque, bounding up + the cloudstuff steps.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    + href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00203.html">www

    ]]>     diff --git a/www/spoilers.html b/www/spoilers.html index d36f8eb..6b12451 100644 --- a/www/spoilers.html +++ b/www/spoilers.html @@ -319,6 +319,7 @@ of the Were-Hare
  • 00045
  • 00046
  • 00047
    • +
  • 00048
  • Bestiary
  • Geography
    • @@ -331,10 +332,10 @@ id="toc-acknowledgements">Acknowledgements

    Stats

    -

    Total length: 45381 words / 193 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the +

    Total length: 47248 words / 201 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not just the story.)

    -

    There have been 170 messages posted over 168 days since the first +

    There have been 171 messages posted over 169 days since the first post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.01.

    About

    This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over @@ -490,7 +491,7 @@ very soon!

    • Player: mio
    • XP: 1
      • -
    • Skills: Do Anything 1, Persuasive 2, Plantomancy 2
      • +
    • Skills: Do Anything 1, Persuasive 2, Plantomancy 2, Throwing 2
    • Equipment: Handy Duffer Discette, Fine Feathered Quills, Jade Tea Set, Mountain Range Glyph Ink, Bead of the Werehare
    @@ -5254,6 +5255,207 @@ wisely doesn’t make a sound as he disappears from view.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    +

    00048

    +
    +

    Alex snatches up his new hemo friend cheering huzzah as he does. +We’ve got a pirate ship little guy!

    +

    Rushing about the deck Alex quickly takes stock of what’s left, +plenty of ammo, general supplies, fuel, perfectly provisioned for a +quick crystal kidnapping. Smart move pirates, but not smart enough.

    +

    Alex heads to the helm and steadies the ship guiding it out and away +from the library, can’t have any of the remaining cyberplasms easily +reboarding it now can we? Once the ship is out of range Alex checks his +S.T.A.G drone’s twtxt feed for updates.

    +
    @<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Cyberplasm approaching crystal
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/gps> approx library, top level
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/audio> Cyberplasm threatens violence
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Inky, bread, confidence enter subvertly
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Visual feed impaired due to unknown smog
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/audio> Angry tones, uncertain who
    +

    Not particularly helpful, and it rules out my first thought. I could +blindly fire the broadside canons into the library hoping to hit the +cyberplasm, but I’d be just as likely to hit Inky, Bread, Confidence or +any other innocent bystander. I’ve got to get a message to her.

    +

    Alex quickly dispatches a command to the S.T.A.G

    +
    @<drone/fhsoa7483/cmd> Seek Inky
+@<drone/fhsoa7483/relay> Secured ship, inform A.I of intentions, will coordinate rescue via the stolen ship
    +

    If all we’ve got is this, then we’d best be ready for a quick rescue. +Alex busies himself preparing a new zipline and mooring lines. He then +loads the boradside canons and the top deck swivel canons. It’ll need to +be quick, but if I’m ready I can swing the ship in close, deploy a +zipline for Inky to zip down to the ship with, and defend the retreat +with the swivels. If everyone retreats to the ship we can take a note +from the pirates playbook and blast them to hell with the broadsides +while we make our retreat. Or simply run I suppose, but I dislike the +idea of leaving innocent people to deal with angry pirates

    +
    +

    The hemogoblin cheers you on as you take possession of the airship, +accidentally squirting a few jets of rust colored blood in its +excitement. Must still be quite young. They don’t gain full control of +their blood sacs until well into adulthood.

    +

    You check your S.T.A.G. drone’s twtxt feeds. This A.I. seems +especially reliable, you note with satisfaction. Its updates are regular +and detailed. Even when there’s not much to report.

    +

    You load up the canons and take control of the helm. The hemogoblin +stands at attention at the broadside canons with a cracklesparkler, +ready to light the fuse at your command. You steer the ship a short +distance away from the hotel, hopefully out of reach of the cyberplasms. +But within range of your own canons and ziplines.

    +
    +

    While Inky has the attention of both guides, they close the door +again until it is slightly ajar, and make a series of hand gestures. +First pointing at themselves, at their own forearm and fist held stiffly +to mimic the shape of the captain’s arm cannon, to indicate that Inky +will handle the Cyberplasm. Then Inky points the two fingers of a hand +at Bread and Confidence, turns the two fingers downward and swings them +back and forth in opposite directions to convey walking. This was +followed by a single finger pointing in the general direction they had +last seen the hotelier; then the finger hooks inward, the arm repeating +a yanking motion once or twice before ending the gesture with a thumb +tossed over their shoulder towards the hallway away from the staff +entrance, to ask them to get their boss out of the library to a safe +spot.

    +

    Without waiting for confirmation from the toques, Inky opens the +door, abruptly stops, turns and shoves a compostable bag of +mango-flavoured croutons at Bread, gives them a thumbs up in return and +a mildly disturbing, eye-crinkling smile behind their kerchief, before +slipping inside the smoky room. One hand is already pulling out a thin, +extendable metal walking pole with a carrying strap visually resembling +the type used by hikers from their courier bag to check for obstacles +amid the lowered visibility.

    +
    +

    Confidence watches all of your hand gestures closely, and then nods +resolutely. They draw their large hoe, and turn and start to crouch run +toward the main entrance to to the main hall of the library.

    +

    Bread looks confused, but ready to follow Confidence. They grab their +heavy meat tenderizer and crouch down in imitation of their fellow +toque. Before they can run off, you shove a bag of croutons into their +arms. “Small. Toasted. Bread,” they intonate slowly in wonder. The +confusion falls from their face as they break into a wide grin. “Now +I’ll never disappear without a trace,” they laugh. They thank you and +run like a duck after Confidence.

    +
    +

    Inside, Inky lobs the empty glass vial that had held the unpleasantly +pungent organic catalyst at a spot the floor several paces roughly from +where the Cyberplasm — presumably the leader of the group — had been +standing earlier, in the opposite direction of the staff entrance in an +attempt to attention from the hotelier’s last location. As they edge +along the wall towards the tower stairs, walking pole looped over one +hand, Inky grabs a few small hardcover novellas from a wall shelf. +Straightening from their crouch, Inky tosses them one at a time +horizontally in quick succession like a discus, but without the +full-body turning motion, across the hall towards the sounds of +frustrated groans and angry muttering. The first starting higher around +where a human head might have once been, one at waist height and another +at the juncture below where ectoplasmic knees might meet prosthetic +legs.

    +
    +

    You pick up three hardback novellas. If it wasn’t so smoky, and if +you weren’t so much in the middle of a potentially life and death +struggle with the Cyberplasm captain of a pirate airship, you might +notice their titles: Stop and Smell the Crystals, Living +the Corn, and A Big Moon.

    + +

    Anyway, you start flinging.

    + +

    After you toss the catalyst, you can see a plasmic form heavily +blurred and obscured by the smoke turn in that direction. You fling +Stop and Smell the Crystals at it, and it spins like a discus +and smashes into the pirate right in the face, above the chin. It howls +and brings its hand to its face, and turns and charges up its arm +cannon.

    + +

    Mostly going on sound now, you fling Living the Corn at the +pirate’s moan and at the electric whine of the canon charging. You hear +the canon discharge but the half-blind pirate fires wide. You see the +flash of the energy blast hitting something, someone, else obscured by +smoke in the middle distance between the two of you. A man screams out +in pain. Right after the muffled thump of his body hitting the ground, +you hear the clinking and ringing of something heavy and metallic +striking and rolling across the floor.

    +

    Living on Corn strikes the pirate in the elbow, and with a +fizzle and a spark, the arm cannon sputters offline.

    + +

    The pirate stumbles forward, half-lame and half-blind. It stoops and +scoops up a heavy melon-sized object. It stomps its cybernetic boot, and +small rockets spring out from small compartments on either side of its +ankle. They start to fire up and the pirate is about to make its escape +when A Big Moon hits it right above knee and severs the ghost’s +final connection to its final enhancement.

    +

    It groans as it starts to dissipate, dropping the heavy object once +more.

    +

    “My crew, it is too late for me! I shall never have a new body now! +But it’s not too late for you! You must bring the quintessence to +Mother!”

    +

    And then the pirate’s essence is diluted in the smoke filling the +library.

    +
    +

    At that moment Inky hears a very low whirring accompanied by clicking +sounds behind them and without glancing backwards, swings the walking +pole at the source of the buzzing. The stick collides with something, +sending it careening backwards with a light clatter through what is +likely a row of bookshelves around the area already partially emptied of +their contents. From the static noise that ensues, Inky realises +whatever it was may or may not have been one of the wizard’s bugs +hovering in the shadows earlier or a disembodied, ectoplasm-spewing +prosthetic limb after all. Inky calls out sheepishly, “Sorry, Young +Master Alex! Was that yours? Oops? Haha?” before smashing two more empty +glass bottles as a distraction for any remaining Cyberplasms lurking on +the same floor, and sprints up the tower stairs, using the banisters as +a guide.

    +
    +

    The Amber Imp is feverishly reporting all the goings on from inside +the S.T.A.G. drone when Inky strikes its conveyance with their walking +pole. The bug is destroyed on contact. The imp barely manages to fire +off one final End Of Transmission post before ejecting from the craft, +which sinks below like an exploded firework. It drifts on the currents +of smoke and flows out through the hole in the wall into the open air +outside. The imp falls through open space and starts to think back on +its life. So much time and energy spent chasing its hopes and dreams, +its goals and aspirations. So much of its life wasted in pursuit. Always +reaching, never grasping. Is that all it gets? Is this the end? Did it +ever really even get a chance to really live?

    +

    These thoughts race through its head as it falls, but are cut short +when it abruptly lands on a hard bed of cloudstuff. It tumbles and rolls +and comes to a stop. And when it looks up, amazed to be alive and vowing +to make the most of this second chance at life, it looks up into the +benevolent smiling face of a pink zephynos.

    +

    ~

    +

    Inky, you cross the floor to where the pirate had its last stand. You +find what appears to be approximately one-fifth of the hotelier, and +wonder idly where the rest of him might be. And you notice a conspicuous +lack of Ginnarak Crystal.

    +

    You do however notice a soft crunch underfoot. And when you bend down +to inspect it—disorganized cyberplasms running amok in the smoke behind +you—you discover a trail of mango flavored croutons leading across the +hall to the tower stairs.

    +

    You sprint up the stairs using the banisters as a guide. The +breadcrumb trail ends on the seventh level, where Confidence sits +slumped against the wall between two bookshelves. They have one arm +around four-fifths of the hotelier, his shocked gaze telling you +everything you need to know, that he is entirely dead but just doesn’t +know it yet. Their other arm is around Bread, who has suffered a massive +wound to the chest and is only slightly more alive than the hotelier. On +the ground between Confidence’s legs is the Ginnarak Crystal. Several +loose pages are stuck to its sides, held in place by drying blood and +ectoplasm.

    +

    Confidence looks at you and smiles wearily. “We left a trail for you. +It was Bread’s idea. They were a good guide.”

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    www

    Bestiary

    Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria