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Dozens B. McCuzzins 2022-12-22 20:44:45 -07:00
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basement.order
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@ -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

4
src/characters/alex.md
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@ -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:

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@ -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.
<!--
Alex rolls Do Anything 1 to yeet the cyberplasm
3 = Things go poorly. Gain 1 xp.
Spend 1 xp to pass and gain Sysorcery 2
//-->
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.
<!--
Alex rolls Do Anything 1 to sever connections
1 = Things go poorly. Gain 1 xp.
Spend 1 xp to pass and gain Stabbing 2
//-->
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)

103
www/index.html
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@ -318,6 +318,7 @@ of the Were-Hare</a></li>
<li><a href="#00044" id="toc-00044">00044</a></li>
<li><a href="#00045" id="toc-00045">00045</a></li>
<li><a href="#00046" id="toc-00046">00046</a></li>
<li><a href="#00047" id="toc-00047">00047</a></li>
</ul></li>
<li><a href="#bestiary" id="toc-bestiary">Bestiary</a></li>
<li><a href="#geography" id="toc-geography">Geography</a></li>
@ -327,10 +328,10 @@ of the Were-Hare</a></li>
</ul>
</nav>
<h2 id="stats">Stats</h2>
<p>Total length: 44522 words / 190 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the
<p>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.)</p>
<p>There have been 165 messages posted over 162 days since the first
<p>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.</p>
<h2 id="about">About</h2>
<p>This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over
@ -363,8 +364,9 @@ he can slip by.</p>
<ul>
<li>Player: sinatra</li>
<li>XP: 1</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1, Investigation 2, Illusions 2, Sneaking 2</li>
<li>Equipment:</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1, Investigation 2, Illusions 2, Sneaking 2,
Sysorcery 2, Stabbing 2</li>
<li>Equipment: a bunch of STAG drones</li>
</ul>
<p>Paths:</p>
<ul>
@ -5156,6 +5158,99 @@ airship shifts as it starts to drift, suddenly unmoored.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00231.html">www</a></p>
<h3 id="00047">00047</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>Damn it! I should’ve left the little goblin in the balloon, this
could get tricky..</p>
<p>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..</p>
<p>Jumping immediately to action Alex casts
<code>yeet.middle_cyberplasm()</code> 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.</p>
</blockquote>
<!--
Alex rolls Do Anything 1 to yeet the cyberplasm
3 = Things go poorly. Gain 1 xp.
Spend 1 xp to pass and gain Sysorcery 2
//-->
<p>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.</p>
<p>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 <code>yeet</code> 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.</p>
<!--
Alex rolls Do Anything 1 to sever connections
1 = Things go poorly. Gain 1 xp.
Spend 1 xp to pass and gain Stabbing 2
//-->
<p>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.</p>
<p>As far as you can tell, the ship is now free of Cyberplasms.</p>
<p>The hemogoblin thrusts its tiny fists in the air and cheers.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Bread nudges you, grins, and gives you a thumbs up.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00234.html">www</a></p>
<h2 id="bestiary">Bestiary</h2>
<p>Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria</p>
<dt>

475
www/rss.xml
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@ -297,6 +297,123 @@
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>47</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">47 - Thu, 22 Dec 2022 16:51:54
-0700</guid>
<pubDate>Thu, 22 Dec 2022 16:51:59 -0700</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00047">00047</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>Damn it! I should’ve left the little goblin in the balloon,
this could get tricky..</p>
<p>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..</p>
<p>Jumping immediately to action Alex casts
<code>yeet.middle_cyberplasm()</code> 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.</p>
</blockquote>
<!--
Alex rolls Do Anything 1 to yeet the cyberplasm
3 = Things go poorly. Gain 1 xp.
Spend 1 xp to pass and gain Sysorcery 2
//-->
<p>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.</p>
<p>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
<code>yeet</code> 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.</p>
<!--
Alex rolls Do Anything 1 to sever connections
1 = Things go poorly. Gain 1 xp.
Spend 1 xp to pass and gain Stabbing 2
//-->
<p>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.</p>
<p>As far as you can tell, the ship is now free of
Cyberplasms.</p>
<p>The hemogoblin thrusts its tiny fists in the air and
cheers.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Bread nudges you, grins, and gives you a thumbs up.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00234.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>43</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
@ -460,6 +577,105 @@
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>41</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">41 - Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:38
-0700</guid>
<pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:44 -0700</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00041">00041</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>And here he stood, a stranger amongst amidst his uncle’s
allies, and very little intention to change that situation at
the moment.</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky greets the toques in turn politely, then turns to the
second toque and says, “A little bit of bread and no
cheese.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“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!”</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“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!”</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00193.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>39</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
@ -667,101 +883,96 @@
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>41</title>
<title>45</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">41 - Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:38
<guid isPermaLink="false">45 - Tue, 20 Dec 2022 10:15:23
-0700</guid>
<pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:44 -0700</pubDate>
<pubDate>Thu, 22 Dec 2022 09:29:11 -0700</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00041">00041</h3>
<h3 id="00045">00045</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>And here he stood, a stranger amongst amidst his uncle’s
allies, and very little intention to change that situation at
the moment.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<p>Just a few Cyberplasms remain on the deck of the airship.
The vast majority of them have zipped into the hotel
tower.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Behind the glass in the display case is a bluish hunk of
rock the size of a melon, with gently pulsing gold veins.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Inky greets the toques in turn politely, then turns to the
second toque and says, “A little bit of bread and no
cheese.”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>“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!”</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“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!”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>They look up and notice you at the same time, relaxing
their offensive stances. “Oh!” cries Bread. “It’s you!”</p>
<p>“You don’t happen,” asks Confidence, “to need a guide, do
you?”</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00193.html">www</a></p>
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00227.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
@ -967,100 +1178,6 @@ EXTREME CAUTION IMPERATIVE.</code></pre>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>45</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">45 - Tue, 20 Dec 2022 10:15:23
-0700</guid>
<pubDate>Thu, 22 Dec 2022 09:29:11 -0700</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00045">00045</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Just a few Cyberplasms remain on the deck of the airship.
The vast majority of them have zipped into the hotel
tower.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Behind the glass in the display case is a bluish hunk of
rock the size of a melon, with gently pulsing gold veins.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>They look up and notice you at the same time, relaxing
their offensive stances. “Oh!” cries Bread. “It’s you!”</p>
<p>“You don’t happen,” asks Confidence, “to need a guide, do
you?”</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00227.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>38</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>

103
www/spoilers.html
View File

@ -318,6 +318,7 @@ of the Were-Hare</a></li>
<li><a href="#00044" id="toc-00044">00044</a></li>
<li><a href="#00045" id="toc-00045">00045</a></li>
<li><a href="#00046" id="toc-00046">00046</a></li>
<li><a href="#00047" id="toc-00047">00047</a></li>
</ul></li>
<li><a href="#bestiary" id="toc-bestiary">Bestiary</a></li>
<li><a href="#geography" id="toc-geography">Geography</a></li>
@ -330,10 +331,10 @@ id="toc-acknowledgements">Acknowledgements</a></li>
</ul>
</nav>
<h2 id="stats">Stats</h2>
<p>Total length: 44522 words / 190 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the
<p>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.)</p>
<p>There have been 165 messages posted over 162 days since the first
<p>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.</p>
<h2 id="about">About</h2>
<p>This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over
@ -366,8 +367,9 @@ he can slip by.</p>
<ul>
<li>Player: sinatra</li>
<li>XP: 1</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1, Investigation 2, Illusions 2, Sneaking 2</li>
<li>Equipment:</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1, Investigation 2, Illusions 2, Sneaking 2,
Sysorcery 2, Stabbing 2</li>
<li>Equipment: a bunch of STAG drones</li>
</ul>
<p>Paths:</p>
<ul>
@ -5159,6 +5161,99 @@ airship shifts as it starts to drift, suddenly unmoored.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00231.html">www</a></p>
<h3 id="00047">00047</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>Damn it! I should’ve left the little goblin in the balloon, this
could get tricky..</p>
<p>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..</p>
<p>Jumping immediately to action Alex casts
<code>yeet.middle_cyberplasm()</code> 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.</p>
</blockquote>
<!--
Alex rolls Do Anything 1 to yeet the cyberplasm
3 = Things go poorly. Gain 1 xp.
Spend 1 xp to pass and gain Sysorcery 2
//-->
<p>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.</p>
<p>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 <code>yeet</code> 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.</p>
<!--
Alex rolls Do Anything 1 to sever connections
1 = Things go poorly. Gain 1 xp.
Spend 1 xp to pass and gain Stabbing 2
//-->
<p>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.</p>
<p>As far as you can tell, the ship is now free of Cyberplasms.</p>
<p>The hemogoblin thrusts its tiny fists in the air and cheers.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Bread nudges you, grins, and gives you a thumbs up.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00234.html">www</a></p>
<h2 id="bestiary">Bestiary</h2>
<p>Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria</p>
<dt>