diff --git a/basement.order b/basement.order index 371914f..5f9aad8 100644 --- a/basement.order +++ b/basement.order @@ -28,6 +28,7 @@ src/epistolary/00043.md src/epistolary/00044.md src/epistolary/00045.md src/epistolary/00046.md +src/epistolary/00047.md src/bestiary/index.md src/bestiary/aur.md src/bestiary/blahoblin.md diff --git a/src/characters/alex.md b/src/characters/alex.md index 9885b87..baf1cb5 100644 --- a/src/characters/alex.md +++ b/src/characters/alex.md @@ -13,8 +13,8 @@ Alex is like Corraidhin in some aspects, he’s younger, more brash, more given - Player: sinatra - XP: 1 -- Skills: Do Anything 1, Investigation 2, Illusions 2, Sneaking 2 -- Equipment: +- Skills: Do Anything 1, Investigation 2, Illusions 2, Sneaking 2, Sysorcery 2, Stabbing 2 +- Equipment: a bunch of STAG drones Paths: diff --git a/src/epistolary/00047.md b/src/epistolary/00047.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ce123e4 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/epistolary/00047.md @@ -0,0 +1,116 @@ +--- +title: 00047 +created: Thu, 22 Dec 2022 16:51:54 -0700 +updated: Thu, 22 Dec 2022 16:51:59 -0700 +syndicated: yes +public: yes +--- +### 00047 {#00047} + +> Damn it! I should've left the little goblin in the balloon, this +> could get tricky.. +> +> Time slows for just the briefest of moments while Alex calculates +> his next move. Looking at the position of the pirates he can +> probably yeet the middlemost one away from the group into the left +> most pirate. Best case this sends both of them sailing over the +> edge of the ship, worst case it just slightly knocks them off +> balance. In either event this gives me enough time to dart from +> cover and quickly dispatch the right most pirate with Uncle's +> dagger. I've got to sever each connection point between the +> ecotplasm and the cybernetics, nothing quite as quick and easy as +> flesh and blood, but a quick slice to the left most armpit, and +> another to the right most leg right above the carotid artery should +> do it.. +> +> Jumping immediately to action Alex casts `yeet.middle_cyberplasm()` +> sending the middle pirate into the left most pirate away from the +> hemogoblin while he dashes forward to take the third right most +> pirate by surprise. As he reaches the right most pirate he makes +> two quick slices, first at the leg, followed by a quick upper cut +> to the left arm. + + + +You channel some of the ambient environmental charge into your +prepared incantation. It's comforting sometimes to peer behind the +veil and see the world through this lens. It's so simple. The +separation of self and other is an illusion: everything is just a +table. The concept of time itself is simplified: coroutines prevent +everything from happening all at once and create the illusion of +concurrency. It's all really quite elegant. + +Anyway so the hemogoblin sidles up next to the pirates at the +railing. It's not tall enough to see over the railing, and starts to +kind of jump up and down, trying to catch a glimpse. The pirates look +down at it in confusion just as the `yeet` happens, and they knock +into each other. The leftmost one almost manages to regain its +balance but then trips over the little blood gremlin and pitches over +the railing. The middle pirate yelps as the startled hemogoblin darts +between its legs to get out of the way. The pirate stumbles and then +slips in a small puddle of blood. Its feet shoot from beneath it and +it too tips over the railing. + + + +The hemogoblin dashes right into the waiting arms of the rightmost +Cyberplasm. "Gotcha, you little ... ugh! What ..." The pirate is +starting to regret snatching up the little furball, which is +defensively gushing blood all over it, when you make your first slice +into its left armpit. Half its cybernetics go offline. One arm goes +limp and it drops the hemogoblin, which scurries around and hides +behind you. The pirate turns toward you, now full of regrets, and you +stab into its right leg, knocking its tech completely offline and +dispersing the ghostly energies. + +As far as you can tell, the ship is now free of Cyberplasms. + +The hemogoblin thrusts its tiny fists in the air and cheers. + +> Inky shakes out several large and very fine kerchiefs, handing two +> each to the guides and gestures for them to cover their noses and +> mouths with them while they perform the action themselves to +> demonstrate. +> +> Donning a pair of skydiving goggles snatched from one of the souvenir +> stalls at the gondola station while no one was looking (replacing it +> with its approximate weight in silver coins), Inky retrieves a black +> metal box that previously served as a portable camp stove from their +> knapsack and removes the lid. The inside of the box is filled with +> dry wood chips mixed with a pine green powder, and Inky throws in the +> wicks pulled from some of the scented candles that were pushed into a +> heater flask to melt fully during the walk up the hotel steps. +> Finally, Inky pours another vial of foul-smelling liquid over the +> contents, opens the door just wide enough to slide the metal box +> through to one side of the door a few paces away. +> +> A mildly sweet, cloying smoke emanates from the flameless heat inside +> the box, which begin to fill the library hall with a rapidly +> thickening cloud. It is also taking on an acrid and slightly sooty +> edge. Near the door, Inky fans more of the smoke in the direction of +> the cyberplasmic apparition with a thin bound manuscript laying on +> the floor. + +Bread, Confidence, and you all don protective gear. You push the camp +stove through the door like an Olympic curler. It glides across the +library floor a respectable distance considering the book debris and +the lack of sweepers. Much more quickly than one would think +possible, the hall is filled with a thick, sooty smoke. The +Cyberplasm captain groans with frustration as even the short distance +between it and the hotelier (and the crystal) becomes occluded in the +smoke screen. The hotelier wisely doesn't make a sound as he +disappears from view. + +Bread nudges you, grins, and gives you a thumbs up. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00234.html) diff --git a/www/index.html b/www/index.html index 88dd658..bc74f0e 100644 --- a/www/index.html +++ b/www/index.html @@ -318,6 +318,7 @@ of the Were-Hare
Total length: 44522 words / 190 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the +
Total length: 45381 words / 193 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 165 messages posted over 162 days since the first +
There have been 170 messages posted over 168 days since the first post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.01.
This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over @@ -363,8 +364,9 @@ he can slip by.
Paths:
WHAT DO YOU DO
+++ +Damn it! I should’ve left the little goblin in the balloon, this +could get tricky..
+Time slows for just the briefest of moments while Alex calculates his +next move. Looking at the position of the pirates he can probably yeet +the middlemost one away from the group into the left most pirate. Best +case this sends both of them sailing over the edge of the ship, worst +case it just slightly knocks them off balance. In either event this +gives me enough time to dart from cover and quickly dispatch the right +most pirate with Uncle’s dagger. I’ve got to sever each connection point +between the ecotplasm and the cybernetics, nothing quite as quick and +easy as flesh and blood, but a quick slice to the left most armpit, and +another to the right most leg right above the carotid artery should do +it..
+Jumping immediately to action Alex casts +
+yeet.middle_cyberplasm()
sending the middle pirate into the +left most pirate away from the hemogoblin while he dashes forward to +take the third right most pirate by surprise. As he reaches the right +most pirate he makes two quick slices, first at the leg, followed by a +quick upper cut to the left arm.
You channel some of the ambient environmental charge into your +prepared incantation. It’s comforting sometimes to peer behind the veil +and see the world through this lens. It’s so simple. The separation of +self and other is an illusion: everything is just a table. The concept +of time itself is simplified: coroutines prevent everything from +happening all at once and create the illusion of concurrency. It’s all +really quite elegant.
+Anyway so the hemogoblin sidles up next to the pirates at the
+railing. It’s not tall enough to see over the railing, and starts to
+kind of jump up and down, trying to catch a glimpse. The pirates look
+down at it in confusion just as the yeet
happens, and they
+knock into each other. The leftmost one almost manages to regain its
+balance but then trips over the little blood gremlin and pitches over
+the railing. The middle pirate yelps as the startled hemogoblin darts
+between its legs to get out of the way. The pirate stumbles and then
+slips in a small puddle of blood. Its feet shoot from beneath it and it
+too tips over the railing.
The hemogoblin dashes right into the waiting arms of the rightmost +Cyberplasm. “Gotcha, you little … ugh! What …” The pirate is starting to +regret snatching up the little furball, which is defensively gushing +blood all over it, when you make your first slice into its left armpit. +Half its cybernetics go offline. One arm goes limp and it drops the +hemogoblin, which scurries around and hides behind you. The pirate turns +toward you, now full of regrets, and you stab into its right leg, +knocking its tech completely offline and dispersing the ghostly +energies.
+As far as you can tell, the ship is now free of Cyberplasms.
+The hemogoblin thrusts its tiny fists in the air and cheers.
+++Inky shakes out several large and very fine kerchiefs, handing two +each to the guides and gestures for them to cover their noses and mouths +with them while they perform the action themselves to demonstrate.
+Donning a pair of skydiving goggles snatched from one of the souvenir +stalls at the gondola station while no one was looking (replacing it +with its approximate weight in silver coins), Inky retrieves a black +metal box that previously served as a portable camp stove from their +knapsack and removes the lid. The inside of the box is filled with dry +wood chips mixed with a pine green powder, and Inky throws in the wicks +pulled from some of the scented candles that were pushed into a heater +flask to melt fully during the walk up the hotel steps. Finally, Inky +pours another vial of foul-smelling liquid over the contents, opens the +door just wide enough to slide the metal box through to one side of the +door a few paces away.
+A mildly sweet, cloying smoke emanates from the flameless heat inside +the box, which begin to fill the library hall with a rapidly thickening +cloud. It is also taking on an acrid and slightly sooty edge. Near the +door, Inky fans more of the smoke in the direction of the cyberplasmic +apparition with a thin bound manuscript laying on the floor.
+
Bread, Confidence, and you all don protective gear. You push the camp +stove through the door like an Olympic curler. It glides across the +library floor a respectable distance considering the book debris and the +lack of sweepers. Much more quickly than one would think possible, the +hall is filled with a thick, sooty smoke. The Cyberplasm captain groans +with frustration as even the short distance between it and the hotelier +(and the crystal) becomes occluded in the smoke screen. The hotelier +wisely doesn’t make a sound as he disappears from view.
+Bread nudges you, grins, and gives you a thumbs up.
+WHAT DO YOU DO
+Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria
++ +Damn it! I should’ve left the little goblin in the balloon, + this could get tricky..
+Time slows for just the briefest of moments while Alex + calculates his next move. Looking at the position of the + pirates he can probably yeet the middlemost one away from the + group into the left most pirate. Best case this sends both of + them sailing over the edge of the ship, worst case it just + slightly knocks them off balance. In either event this gives + me enough time to dart from cover and quickly dispatch the + right most pirate with Uncle’s dagger. I’ve got to sever each + connection point between the ecotplasm and the cybernetics, + nothing quite as quick and easy as flesh and blood, but a + quick slice to the left most armpit, and another to the right + most leg right above the carotid artery should do it..
+Jumping immediately to action Alex casts +
+yeet.middle_cyberplasm()
sending the middle + pirate into the left most pirate away from the hemogoblin + while he dashes forward to take the third right most pirate by + surprise. As he reaches the right most pirate he makes two + quick slices, first at the leg, followed by a quick upper cut + to the left arm.
You channel some of the ambient environmental charge into + your prepared incantation. It’s comforting sometimes to peer + behind the veil and see the world through this lens. It’s so + simple. The separation of self and other is an illusion: + everything is just a table. The concept of time itself is + simplified: coroutines prevent everything from happening all + at once and create the illusion of concurrency. It’s all + really quite elegant.
+Anyway so the hemogoblin sidles up next to the pirates at
+ the railing. It’s not tall enough to see over the railing, and
+ starts to kind of jump up and down, trying to catch a glimpse.
+ The pirates look down at it in confusion just as the
+ yeet
happens, and they knock into each other. The
+ leftmost one almost manages to regain its balance but then
+ trips over the little blood gremlin and pitches over the
+ railing. The middle pirate yelps as the startled hemogoblin
+ darts between its legs to get out of the way. The pirate
+ stumbles and then slips in a small puddle of blood. Its feet
+ shoot from beneath it and it too tips over the railing.
The hemogoblin dashes right into the waiting arms of the + rightmost Cyberplasm. “Gotcha, you little … ugh! What …” The + pirate is starting to regret snatching up the little furball, + which is defensively gushing blood all over it, when you make + your first slice into its left armpit. Half its cybernetics go + offline. One arm goes limp and it drops the hemogoblin, which + scurries around and hides behind you. The pirate turns toward + you, now full of regrets, and you stab into its right leg, + knocking its tech completely offline and dispersing the + ghostly energies.
+As far as you can tell, the ship is now free of + Cyberplasms.
+The hemogoblin thrusts its tiny fists in the air and + cheers.
+++Inky shakes out several large and very fine kerchiefs, + handing two each to the guides and gestures for them to cover + their noses and mouths with them while they perform the action + themselves to demonstrate.
+Donning a pair of skydiving goggles snatched from one of + the souvenir stalls at the gondola station while no one was + looking (replacing it with its approximate weight in silver + coins), Inky retrieves a black metal box that previously + served as a portable camp stove from their knapsack and + removes the lid. The inside of the box is filled with dry wood + chips mixed with a pine green powder, and Inky throws in the + wicks pulled from some of the scented candles that were pushed + into a heater flask to melt fully during the walk up the hotel + steps. Finally, Inky pours another vial of foul-smelling + liquid over the contents, opens the door just wide enough to + slide the metal box through to one side of the door a few + paces away.
+A mildly sweet, cloying smoke emanates from the flameless + heat inside the box, which begin to fill the library hall with + a rapidly thickening cloud. It is also taking on an acrid and + slightly sooty edge. Near the door, Inky fans more of the + smoke in the direction of the cyberplasmic apparition with a + thin bound manuscript laying on the floor.
+
Bread, Confidence, and you all don protective gear. You + push the camp stove through the door like an Olympic curler. + It glides across the library floor a respectable distance + considering the book debris and the lack of sweepers. Much + more quickly than one would think possible, the hall is filled + with a thick, sooty smoke. The Cyberplasm captain groans with + frustration as even the short distance between it and the + hotelier (and the crystal) becomes occluded in the smoke + screen. The hotelier wisely doesn’t make a sound as he + disappears from view.
+Bread nudges you, grins, and gives you a thumbs up.
+WHAT DO YOU DO
+ + ]]> +++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
+ + ]]> +--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.
+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.
~
+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 greets the toques in turn politely, then turns to the - second toque and says, “A little bit of bread and no - cheese.”
+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.
“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!”
+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
+ href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00227.html">www ]]>--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.
-
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?”
-WHAT DO YOU DO
- - ]]> -Total length: 44522 words / 190 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the +
Total length: 45381 words / 193 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 165 messages posted over 162 days since the first +
There have been 170 messages posted over 168 days since the first post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.01.
This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over @@ -366,8 +367,9 @@ he can slip by.
Paths:
WHAT DO YOU DO
+++ +Damn it! I should’ve left the little goblin in the balloon, this +could get tricky..
+Time slows for just the briefest of moments while Alex calculates his +next move. Looking at the position of the pirates he can probably yeet +the middlemost one away from the group into the left most pirate. Best +case this sends both of them sailing over the edge of the ship, worst +case it just slightly knocks them off balance. In either event this +gives me enough time to dart from cover and quickly dispatch the right +most pirate with Uncle’s dagger. I’ve got to sever each connection point +between the ecotplasm and the cybernetics, nothing quite as quick and +easy as flesh and blood, but a quick slice to the left most armpit, and +another to the right most leg right above the carotid artery should do +it..
+Jumping immediately to action Alex casts +
+yeet.middle_cyberplasm()
sending the middle pirate into the +left most pirate away from the hemogoblin while he dashes forward to +take the third right most pirate by surprise. As he reaches the right +most pirate he makes two quick slices, first at the leg, followed by a +quick upper cut to the left arm.
You channel some of the ambient environmental charge into your +prepared incantation. It’s comforting sometimes to peer behind the veil +and see the world through this lens. It’s so simple. The separation of +self and other is an illusion: everything is just a table. The concept +of time itself is simplified: coroutines prevent everything from +happening all at once and create the illusion of concurrency. It’s all +really quite elegant.
+Anyway so the hemogoblin sidles up next to the pirates at the
+railing. It’s not tall enough to see over the railing, and starts to
+kind of jump up and down, trying to catch a glimpse. The pirates look
+down at it in confusion just as the yeet
happens, and they
+knock into each other. The leftmost one almost manages to regain its
+balance but then trips over the little blood gremlin and pitches over
+the railing. The middle pirate yelps as the startled hemogoblin darts
+between its legs to get out of the way. The pirate stumbles and then
+slips in a small puddle of blood. Its feet shoot from beneath it and it
+too tips over the railing.
The hemogoblin dashes right into the waiting arms of the rightmost +Cyberplasm. “Gotcha, you little … ugh! What …” The pirate is starting to +regret snatching up the little furball, which is defensively gushing +blood all over it, when you make your first slice into its left armpit. +Half its cybernetics go offline. One arm goes limp and it drops the +hemogoblin, which scurries around and hides behind you. The pirate turns +toward you, now full of regrets, and you stab into its right leg, +knocking its tech completely offline and dispersing the ghostly +energies.
+As far as you can tell, the ship is now free of Cyberplasms.
+The hemogoblin thrusts its tiny fists in the air and cheers.
+++Inky shakes out several large and very fine kerchiefs, handing two +each to the guides and gestures for them to cover their noses and mouths +with them while they perform the action themselves to demonstrate.
+Donning a pair of skydiving goggles snatched from one of the souvenir +stalls at the gondola station while no one was looking (replacing it +with its approximate weight in silver coins), Inky retrieves a black +metal box that previously served as a portable camp stove from their +knapsack and removes the lid. The inside of the box is filled with dry +wood chips mixed with a pine green powder, and Inky throws in the wicks +pulled from some of the scented candles that were pushed into a heater +flask to melt fully during the walk up the hotel steps. Finally, Inky +pours another vial of foul-smelling liquid over the contents, opens the +door just wide enough to slide the metal box through to one side of the +door a few paces away.
+A mildly sweet, cloying smoke emanates from the flameless heat inside +the box, which begin to fill the library hall with a rapidly thickening +cloud. It is also taking on an acrid and slightly sooty edge. Near the +door, Inky fans more of the smoke in the direction of the cyberplasmic +apparition with a thin bound manuscript laying on the floor.
+
Bread, Confidence, and you all don protective gear. You push the camp +stove through the door like an Olympic curler. It glides across the +library floor a respectable distance considering the book debris and the +lack of sweepers. Much more quickly than one would think possible, the +hall is filled with a thick, sooty smoke. The Cyberplasm captain groans +with frustration as even the short distance between it and the hotelier +(and the crystal) becomes occluded in the smoke screen. The hotelier +wisely doesn’t make a sound as he disappears from view.
+Bread nudges you, grins, and gives you a thumbs up.
+WHAT DO YOU DO
+Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria