From 8e0b431a8c2d80a36c3e1cb4878bd4a2c318412e Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: "Christopher P. Brown" Date: Sat, 29 Oct 2022 10:07:31 -0600 Subject: [PATCH] 28 --- basement.order | 2 + src/characters/gabs.md | 30 ++ src/epistolary/00028.md | 127 ++++++++ www/index.html | 131 ++++++++- www/rss.xml | 627 ++++++++++++++++++++++++---------------- www/spoilers.html | 133 ++++++++- 6 files changed, 790 insertions(+), 260 deletions(-) create mode 100644 src/characters/gabs.md create mode 100644 src/epistolary/00028.md diff --git a/basement.order b/basement.order index 045a1c3..aa0f089 100644 --- a/basement.order +++ b/basement.order @@ -1,6 +1,7 @@ src/about.md src/characters/index.md src/characters/corraidhin.md +src/characters/gabs.md src/characters/glarg.md src/characters/inky.md src/characters/jarrod.md @@ -21,6 +22,7 @@ src/epistolary/00024.md src/epistolary/00025.md src/epistolary/00026.md src/epistolary/00027.md +src/epistolary/00028.md src/bestiary/index.md src/bestiary/aur.md src/bestiary/blahoblin.md diff --git a/src/characters/gabs.md b/src/characters/gabs.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..27f13b3 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/characters/gabs.md @@ -0,0 +1,30 @@ +--- +title: gabs +created: Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:41:37 -0600 +updated: Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:41:37 -0600 +public: yes +--- +### Gabs + +
+Bio +Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all grown adults now, and she no longer wanted to toil away running a business. When she initially shuttered her little tavern, she thought she might just retire. She made it two whole years of working in a garden, occasionally seeing grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided she needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a nearby port town. She was sure to find something fun to do there. + +Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of debauchery wafting from within made her miss her days gossiping at her tavern. She enters and orders a terrible drink and listens and watches. + +Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides, “I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that sounds exciting!” + +Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the journey! + +Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and have fun! +
+ +- Player: archangelic +- XP: 0 +- Skills: Do Anything 1 +- Equipment: + +Paths: + +- Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start + diff --git a/src/epistolary/00028.md b/src/epistolary/00028.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..db1e09a --- /dev/null +++ b/src/epistolary/00028.md @@ -0,0 +1,127 @@ +--- +title: 00028 +created: Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 -0600 +updated: Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 -0600 +public: yes +syndicated: yes +--- +### 00028 {#00028} + +> ~*a new player enters the chat*~ +> +> Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all grown +> adults now, and she no longer wanted to toil away running a +> business. When she initially shuttered her little tavern, she +> thought she might just retire. She made it two whole years of +> working in a garden, occasionally seeing grandkids, and reading +> romance novels. She eventually decided she needed a vacation from +> her retirement and traveled to a nearby port town. She was sure to +> find something fun to do there. +> +> Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of debauchery +> wafting from within made her miss her days gossiping at her tavern. +> She enters and orders a terrible drink and listens and watches. +> +> Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides, +> “I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that sounds exciting!” +> +> Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the +> journey! +> +> Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and +> have fun! + +~ + +> Meta: a warm welcome to the latest member of our tea party! This is +> a short post to help smooth the temporal jumps between the recent +> narratives so far. As Inky reaches the deck, they see Gabs +> approaching from the other side of the ship as well, and flashes +> them a grin in greeting. After listening to the captain petering on +> about the glorious days of the now sunken ship below, while +> tinkering with the bell's tentacles — being rewarded with a mild +> zap and marginally better fit for the effort — Inky turns to the +> party. "When you're ready." + +You reach into the tank and discover that grabbing a breathing bell +takes some finesse. They are very slippery! But you get the hang of +it and make a ladle out of your hands and scoop one up. + +"Okay now!" laughs Three-Fingered Gerald. He gives you a wink, but +it's easy to miss because of the eyepatch. "Don't put it on until +right before you jump. It won't be able to breathe for you until +you're in the water. And this!" he continues, fitting a heavy, padded +vest around your shoulders, "will carry you down." It is a vest of +many pockets, each one holding a small dense sandbag the size of your +hand. "When you're ready to come back up, just start dropping +ballast, right?" + +You hop up on the ship railing and pull the breathing bell on over +your head. It immediately contracts and squeezes and hugs your head +like a second skin, and its stubby little tentacles grab hold around +your jawline, and it feels like you have a wet plastic bag clinging +to your face, and you think you might have made a grave mistake. +Resisting the urge to panic, you push off the railing and jump +overboard. You are briefly air born and then profoundly waterbound, +crashing through the surface of the sea into the briny soup below. + +The oxygen starts to flow as the breathing bell begins to do its job. +As you sink, you feel as though you are floating through space, +entering another world. + +After a while you start to hear voices arguing in the distance. As +you get closer, two large shapes start to come into focus. The first +is a hulking, hairless merbear. Top half (hairless) bear, bottom half +fish. The second figure is a tardigrade the size of a large merbear. +It has eight jointless legs, each tipped with four sharp claws. It +wriggles and wobbles like jelly as it gesticulates. + +"No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water Bear, after +all!" + +"Hornswoggle and poppycock! It is I who am the Bear of the Sea! I am +half bear after all! You're just some kind of segmented nematode or +something." + +The tardigrade quivers with indignation. "I'll have you know I'm a +panarthropod, thank you very much. And this is the ideal physical +body! You may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks +like. I've lived under the polar ice cap, and in a sulfurous +mountaintop hot spring. I've traveled through the vacuum of space to +the moon! Have you ever been to the moon?" + +"Why don't you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like it so +much!" + +"You're just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure you're not +the Fish of the Sea?" + +"Are you sure you're not the Blob of the Sea, you too many armed bowl +of jelly?" + +"Hey! Hey, you there!" The arguing quasi-bears have spotted your slow +descent. "Come, yes, float slowly this way! You must settle an +argument for us! Tell this slightly mammalian fish that I am the true +Bear of the Sea!" + +"The Bear of the Sea must be at least 'slightly mammalian' you +egg-laying scientific curiosity! You, tell this cousin of a barnacle +that I---the mighty merbear---am the true Bear of the Sea! Say this +and I will guide and protect you on your journey." + +"No! Would you like to visit the moon? Say that I, tardigrade, am +Bear of the Sea and I will introduce you to my moon friends!" + +"He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth can stand +him!" + +"You're just mean, you know that?" + +You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is no sight +of the SS RSS. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00023.html) + + diff --git a/www/index.html b/www/index.html index c327c96..a5e574d 100644 --- a/www/index.html +++ b/www/index.html @@ -212,6 +212,7 @@
  • Characters
  • Bestiary
  • Geography
    • @@ -255,8 +257,8 @@ of the Were-Hare

    Stats

    -

    Total length: 23421 words / 100 minute read.

    -

    There have been 97 messages posted over 107 days since the first post +

    Total length: 24524 words / 104 minute read.

    +

    There have been 98 messages posted over 108 days since the first post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .90.

    About

    This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over @@ -303,6 +305,38 @@ story entirely.

  • Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start
  • Soulsword: Bloodlust
    • +

    Gabs

    +
    + +

    Bio

    +     +

    Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all grown adults +now, and she no longer wanted to toil away running a business. When she +initially shuttered her little tavern, she thought she might just +retire. She made it two whole years of working in a garden, occasionally +seeing grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided she +needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a nearby port +town. She was sure to find something fun to do there.

    +

    Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of debauchery +wafting from within made her miss her days gossiping at her tavern. She +enters and orders a terrible drink and listens and watches.

    +

    Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides, +“I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that sounds exciting!”

    +

    Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the +journey!

    +

    Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and +have fun!

    +
    + +

    Paths:

    +

    Glarg

    @@ -2813,6 +2847,99 @@ and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding the Diamond Howler, and sailing to the site of the wreck.

    www

    +

    00028

    +
    +

    a new player enters the chat

    +

    Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all grown adults +now, and she no longer wanted to toil away running a business. When she +initially shuttered her little tavern, she thought she might just +retire. She made it two whole years of working in a garden, occasionally +seeing grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided she +needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a nearby port +town. She was sure to find something fun to do there.

    +

    Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of debauchery +wafting from within made her miss her days gossiping at her tavern. She +enters and orders a terrible drink and listens and watches.

    +

    Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides, +“I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that sounds exciting!”

    +

    Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the +journey!

    +

    Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and +have fun!

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    Meta: a warm welcome to the latest member of our tea party! This is a +short post to help smooth the temporal jumps between the recent +narratives so far. As Inky reaches the deck, they see Gabs approaching +from the other side of the ship as well, and flashes them a grin in +greeting. After listening to the captain petering on about the glorious +days of the now sunken ship below, while tinkering with the bell’s +tentacles — being rewarded with a mild zap and marginally better fit for +the effort — Inky turns to the party. “When you’re ready.”

    +
    +

    You reach into the tank and discover that grabbing a breathing bell +takes some finesse. They are very slippery! But you get the hang of it +and make a ladle out of your hands and scoop one up.

    +

    “Okay now!” laughs Three-Fingered Gerald. He gives you a wink, but +it’s easy to miss because of the eyepatch. “Don’t put it on until right +before you jump. It won’t be able to breathe for you until you’re in the +water. And this!” he continues, fitting a heavy, padded vest around your +shoulders, “will carry you down.” It is a vest of many pockets, each one +holding a small dense sandbag the size of your hand. “When you’re ready +to come back up, just start dropping ballast, right?”

    +

    You hop up on the ship railing and pull the breathing bell on over +your head. It immediately contracts and squeezes and hugs your head like +a second skin, and its stubby little tentacles grab hold around your +jawline, and it feels like you have a wet plastic bag clinging to your +face, and you think you might have made a grave mistake. Resisting the +urge to panic, you push off the railing and jump overboard. You are +briefly air born and then profoundly waterbound, crashing through the +surface of the sea into the briny soup below.

    +

    The oxygen starts to flow as the breathing bell begins to do its job. +As you sink, you feel as though you are floating through space, entering +another world.

    +

    After a while you start to hear voices arguing in the distance. As +you get closer, two large shapes start to come into focus. The first is +a hulking, hairless merbear. Top half (hairless) bear, bottom half fish. +The second figure is a tardigrade the size of a large merbear. It has +eight jointless legs, each tipped with four sharp claws. It wriggles and +wobbles like jelly as it gesticulates.

    +

    “No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water Bear, after +all!”

    +

    “Hornswoggle and poppycock! It is I who am the Bear of the Sea! I am +half bear after all! You’re just some kind of segmented nematode or +something.”

    +

    The tardigrade quivers with indignation. “I’ll have you know I’m a +panarthropod, thank you very much. And this is the ideal physical body! +You may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like. I’ve +lived under the polar ice cap, and in a sulfurous mountaintop hot +spring. I’ve traveled through the vacuum of space to the moon! Have you +ever been to the moon?”

    +

    “Why don’t you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like it so +much!”

    +

    “You’re just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure you’re not +the Fish of the Sea?”

    +

    “Are you sure you’re not the Blob of the Sea, you too many armed bowl +of jelly?”

    +

    “Hey! Hey, you there!” The arguing quasi-bears have spotted your slow +descent. “Come, yes, float slowly this way! You must settle an argument +for us! Tell this slightly mammalian fish that I am the true Bear of the +Sea!”

    +

    “The Bear of the Sea must be at least ‘slightly mammalian’ you +egg-laying scientific curiosity! You, tell this cousin of a barnacle +that I—the mighty merbear—am the true Bear of the Sea! Say this and I +will guide and protect you on your journey.”

    +

    “No! Would you like to visit the moon? Say that I, tardigrade, am +Bear of the Sea and I will introduce you to my moon friends!”

    +

    “He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth can stand +him!”

    +

    “You’re just mean, you know that?”

    +

    You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is no sight +of the SS RSS.

    +

    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 272f755..4d2d0d3 100644 --- a/www/rss.xml +++ b/www/rss.xml @@ -5,6 +5,209 @@ BASEMENT QWEST https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml Friends having ADVENTURES! Huzzah! + + 28 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 28 - Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 +-0600 + Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 -0600 + + 00028 +
    +

    a new player enters the chat

    +

    Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all + grown adults now, and she no longer wanted to toil away + running a business. When she initially shuttered her little + tavern, she thought she might just retire. She made it two + whole years of working in a garden, occasionally seeing + grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided + she needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a + nearby port town. She was sure to find something fun to do + there.

    +

    Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of + debauchery wafting from within made her miss her days + gossiping at her tavern. She enters and orders a terrible + drink and listens and watches.

    +

    Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she + decides, “I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that + sounds exciting!”

    +

    Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join + on the journey!

    +

    Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to + schmooze and have fun!

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    Meta: a warm welcome to the latest member of our tea party! + This is a short post to help smooth the temporal jumps between + the recent narratives so far. As Inky reaches the deck, they + see Gabs approaching from the other side of the ship as well, + and flashes them a grin in greeting. After listening to the + captain petering on about the glorious days of the now sunken + ship below, while tinkering with the bell’s tentacles — being + rewarded with a mild zap and marginally better fit for the + effort — Inky turns to the party. “When you’re ready.”

    +
    +

    You reach into the tank and discover that grabbing a + breathing bell takes some finesse. They are very slippery! But + you get the hang of it and make a ladle out of your hands and + scoop one up.

    +

    “Okay now!” laughs Three-Fingered Gerald. He gives you a + wink, but it’s easy to miss because of the eyepatch. “Don’t + put it on until right before you jump. It won’t be able to + breathe for you until you’re in the water. And this!” he + continues, fitting a heavy, padded vest around your shoulders, + “will carry you down.” It is a vest of many pockets, each one + holding a small dense sandbag the size of your hand. “When + you’re ready to come back up, just start dropping ballast, + right?”

    +

    You hop up on the ship railing and pull the breathing bell + on over your head. It immediately contracts and squeezes and + hugs your head like a second skin, and its stubby little + tentacles grab hold around your jawline, and it feels like you + have a wet plastic bag clinging to your face, and you think + you might have made a grave mistake. Resisting the urge to + panic, you push off the railing and jump overboard. You are + briefly air born and then profoundly waterbound, crashing + through the surface of the sea into the briny soup below.

    +

    The oxygen starts to flow as the breathing bell begins to + do its job. As you sink, you feel as though you are floating + through space, entering another world.

    +

    After a while you start to hear voices arguing in the + distance. As you get closer, two large shapes start to come + into focus. The first is a hulking, hairless merbear. Top half + (hairless) bear, bottom half fish. The second figure is a + tardigrade the size of a large merbear. It has eight jointless + legs, each tipped with four sharp claws. It wriggles and + wobbles like jelly as it gesticulates.

    +

    “No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water + Bear, after all!”

    +

    “Hornswoggle and poppycock! It is I who am the Bear of the + Sea! I am half bear after all! You’re just some kind of + segmented nematode or something.”

    +

    The tardigrade quivers with indignation. “I’ll have you + know I’m a panarthropod, thank you very much. And this is the + ideal physical body! You may not like it, but this is what + peak performance looks like. I’ve lived under the polar ice + cap, and in a sulfurous mountaintop hot spring. I’ve traveled + through the vacuum of space to the moon! Have you ever been to + the moon?”

    +

    “Why don’t you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like + it so much!”

    +

    “You’re just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure + you’re not the Fish of the Sea?”

    +

    “Are you sure you’re not the Blob of the Sea, you too many + armed bowl of jelly?”

    +

    “Hey! Hey, you there!” The arguing quasi-bears have spotted + your slow descent. “Come, yes, float slowly this way! You must + settle an argument for us! Tell this slightly mammalian fish + that I am the true Bear of the Sea!”

    +

    “The Bear of the Sea must be at least ‘slightly mammalian’ + you egg-laying scientific curiosity! You, tell this cousin of + a barnacle that I—the mighty merbear—am the true Bear of the + Sea! Say this and I will guide and protect you on your + journey.”

    +

    “No! Would you like to visit the moon? Say that I, + tardigrade, am Bear of the Sea and I will introduce you to my + moon friends!”

    +

    “He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth + can stand him!”

    +

    “You’re just mean, you know that?”

    +

    You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is + no sight of the SS RSS.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    www

    + ]]> +     +     + + 26 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 26 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 +-0600 + Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600 + + 00026 +
    +

    Inky slowly approaches Master Corraidhín and taps lightly + on the sleeve of his robes to get his attention. Between + Inky’s tugging and Jarrod’s strong, steady hand, they manage + to hoist the wizard to his feet.

    +

    With a brief glance at the hobbit on the floor then a nod + to Jarrod, Inky leaves the nightclub with the wizard. The + duck, having emptied the plate of corn chips in record time, + follows them shortly after.

    +

    The trek back to the Milk Market is mostly silent aside + from the occasional mutter and stumbling curse, the mage + seemingly having fallen asleep as soon as he landed on the cot + in the loft. Inky retreats downstairs after leaving a jug of + water, a mug and a small packet of kuding leaves beside the + bed.

    +

    Exiting through the back door into the night, Inky finds a + dark corner in a dusty abandoned house, and cries.

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    ” … and then the Orc Maiden said: ‘That’s not my + club!’”

    +

    The room roars with laughter, and Jarrod moves to the bar + and puts a bag of coin down. “Serve drinks until this runs + out!” Leaning over the bar to the bartender, Jarrod adds in a + whisper: “I owe a favour to Lucy’s Basement for the trouble. + Call it in when needed.”

    +

    Jarrod saunters over to Blavin, on the floor in pain. From + his pack, Jarrod retrieves a med kit and begins to bandage the + wound.

    +

    As Blavin opens his mouth, likely intending to raise all + kinds of hell, Jarrod pulls tight on the bandage he is + currently applying, drawing a curse from the hobbit. “Shut it! + Let’s be clear. You’ve hired us for a dangerous set of jobs, + with the understanding that we’re dangerous people. There may + be ‘accidents’ on occasion. You’ve learned something today, + and what’s more, you lived to absorb your new wisdom.”

    +

    Jarrod grins as he finishes with the bandage. “We will + finish what we have started. We’re probably the team with the + best chances, I’m sure you’ll agree. Are you going to back the + winning play here? Either way, your decision won’t change our + plans. I’m sure you know how to take the win.”

    +

    Jarrod pats the hobbit’s good shoulder in a friendly, but + dismissive, way, then turns and saunters out the door, trading + small quips with his new (and now very drunk) tavern + friends.

    +
    +

    You are at a small port town on the northern tip of + Agendell, just past the Rana’For Valley. The sun is bright and + the wind blowing in from the Sugrin Sea to the east is cool + and salty. The floating island-city of Vay’Neddas, bridging + Agendell and Primora, can be seen very faintly in the distance + hanging in the northern sky.

    +

    Your faithful multibeast is carrying all of your supplies + and gear, which were generously provided to you by the + indefatigable Blavin Blandfoot. His arm in a sling, he kept up + a constant nervous chatter as he saw you off on your journey + to recover the second Ginnarak Crystal.

    +

    From here, you can easily provision a boat to take you out + to the site of the shipwreck just off the coast.

    +

    Or, optionally, you are very close to the Hartlands. It + would be quite easy to make a quick visit to hemogoblins and + pick up some synthetic blood for your experiments with the + Sword of Yam’L.

    +

    The sword, incidentally, after finally tasting the blood of + “evil”, has remained sated and entirely inert and unresponsive + this whole time.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO:

    +
      +
    1. TO THE SHIPWRECK
      2. +
    2. BLOODQUEST
      3. +
    +

    www

    + ]]> +     +     24 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) @@ -108,6 +311,175 @@ ]]> + + 25 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 25 - Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16 +-0600 + Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16 -0600 + + 00025 +
    +

    Corraidhin Shit, shit shit shit shit shit. + This is NOT good. Damn it Y’aml what was that? It wasn’t even + slightly stealthy

    +

    Y’aml STAB, delightful blood. Stab the + flesh, tear the skin, pierce the fruit that gives us strength. + Drink the blood, consume their soul. More more more more more + more more more more

    +

    Corraidhin (internal thought) Ugh my head, + it’s heavy, hurts. Misty and red? I can’t see straight, it’s + hard to think straight. That blasted sword, I thought for a + moment it, no, not think, it definitely did move on its own. + It became lighter and heavier. Pulling against it and it just + weighs itself down. This little magical bauble is definitely + cursed..

    +

    Y’aml CURSED?! Rude Hardy Bear. All we did + was stab that evil hobbit. And it’s getting away! Stab him + again, taste his blood! The tavern gaurds are closing in, they + look like they’re trying to get rid of us, EVIL. Them trying + to stop us from getting that evil hobbit is EVIL, STAB + THEM.

    +

    Corraidhin raises his free hand to his head as though + holding a wound and he groans in dismay as the dagger rises + again. It travels swiftly down towards Blavin, missing as he + slithers of the booth. And again, digging deep into the wooden + seat.

    +

    Y’aml Disgusting wood, stab the flesh! + Stab the Hobbit Hardy Bear!

    +

    But Blavin was inching further out of reach towards the + gaurds. In desperation the dagger begins swinging side to + side, making furtive slashing moves in the direction of the + guards. The party is safely behind Corraidhin, but innocent + patrons and the guards are directly in their sights.

    +

    Corraidhin grabs his other hand and pulls hard, steadying + the swinging. STOP! I command you you blasted toothpick, STOP. + You’ve had your fun, now STOP. These people are innocent, this + man has done us no harm despite his potential “evils”, this is + entirely uncalled for!

    +

    Y’aml NO!!! EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. EVIL. + STAB.

    +

    The dull voice of the magical dagger rises, angry, + insistent. It consumes the last of Corraidhin’s mental + strength. All he hears is EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. Yet he + clings to his spare arm trying desparately to resist. At this + point the party and the tavern has cleared a wide path around + the sysorceor as he struggles with himself, mumbling, + sometimes yelling. EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. NO WE WILL NOT. + EVIL. INNOCENT. STAB BLOOD DRINK. EVIL. EVIL EVIL EVIL STAB + IT. MAKE IT BLEED. I WILL NO.. STAB IT. STAB HIM.

    +

    The voice seems to change, it dies down. Not yelling, but + commanding. Firm, calm, sane.

    +

    Stab them, stab them, make them bleed. Drink the blood, + consume the soul, free them from their evil being. Stab them, + stab them… over and over and over, as the sysorceor approaches + Blavin and the guards with a malevolent look in his ruby red + eyes.

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    Inky moves to stand next to Blavin and the nightclub + bouncers. Tossing a tiny “see-eye” container they had borrowed + from Master Corraidhín at him, Inky looks the sysorceor in the + eye and says, “You are not your sword.”

    +

    Watching the wizard’s expression, Inky continues, more + quietly, “If Master Corraidhín truly wishes to end the hobbit, + a mere imp would not stop him, but likewise, whatever he sets + his mind to do, a dagger cannot stop him either.”

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    Jarrod steps gently into the fray and activates his + FASCINATING CHARM, attempting to draw all eyes to him. He + carefully avoids the wild swinging of the + once-sword-now-dagger.

    +

    “I think,” he rumbles gently, “we could all use a drink + over the other end of the room. I’m buying, and I’ll spin you + all a tale of wonder! A tale of a wanderer, and of a war + hammer, and the first of their wild battles together!”

    +

    Leaning over to whisper urgently in Corraidhín’s ear: + “Friend, I do not know what occurs here, but pull yourself + together. We can later sate our blood lust in more appropriate + places!” Jarrod lends a sly wink in the sysorcerer’s + direction, one that promises adventure later.

    +
    +

    The tavern guards tense, but pause their advance, as the + crazed mage’s friends position themselves protectively around + him and try to placate him. They wouldn’t want to engage a + master sysorcerer on the best of days, much less one with some + kind of malevolent blood dagger in the middle of a psychotic + break. If his compatriots can handle him without them having + to interfere, all the better.

    +

    The duck waddles up next to Inky and quacks softly, + pleadingly at Corraidhin. Only the Ornithologer in the corner + can understand its words when it says, “As your marketing + manager I must strongly advise against this course of + action!”

    +

    Seated in the corner next to the Ornithologer is a shaggy + groll dressed in a dusty, faded poncho and a wide brimmed hat; + and a greasy, matted gnu, dressed in black ceremonial + robes.

    +

    The groll discreetly draws its poncho back revealing a + bandoleer of wands and draws a cracklestick and points it at + the sysorcer. The wand starts to hum and glow as it charges up + for a blast.

    +

    The gnu slaps the groll’s wrist, and immediately launches + into a tirade against the cracklestick’s manufacturer’s + proprietary spell slotting algorithm, and honestly how can you + possibly justify your choices when there are open source + alternatives available?

    +

    The groll rolls its eyes, obviously having been on the + receiving end of this particular lecture before, and tries to + slap away the gnu’s grasping hands. The ensuing scuffle + threatens to turn this powder keg of a situation into a full + blown conflagration until Jarrod actives his FASCINATING + CHARM, commanding the attention of the entire room.

    +

    The gnu freezes with its hands around the groll’s throat. + The groll halts with fists full of the gnu’s beard. A grub + smoking a hookah pauses with the mouthpiece raised to its + pursed lips. A distracted waitress on roller skates crashes + right into the bar.

    +
    +

    As though in a trance Corraidhin continues to yell STAB. + THEM. STAB. IT. cutting wildly at the air before him. As Inky + whispers to him his expression changes, first a grimace, then + a whimper. As Jarrod leads the patrons away from the sysorceor + he begins to tremble and cower away from himself, away from + everyone. His ruby red eyes dart back and forth between his + friends and the patrons, like a frightened animal searching + for an escape. He pulls the dagger into himself, as though + sheilding it from his surroundings.

    +

    What.. what’s going on, he mutters feebly to himself. + Everything is a blurr. Uncertain of where he is or what’s + going on, Corraidhin thumbs the dagger, caressing the large + ruby embedded in the hilt. Y’aml, you’re still here, good + good, the syscoreor croons.

    +

    Standing up straight his eyes lock with Jarrod as the Bard + glances over his shoulder, momentarily distracted from his + oration, worried about his companion.

    +

    I.. ugh, Corraidhin grabs his head as though in pain, and + collapses to the floor.

    +
    +

    Corraidhin hits the floor and the dagger, now bereft of the + well of emotion it had been drawing from, grows still. The eye + closes and it seems to sigh happily. “Good job, Hardy Bear. + You have spilled the blood of evil.” And it sleeps, inert, + lifeless.

    +

    Corraidhin is on the ground cradling the dagger.

    +

    Most of the patrons are still fascinated by Jarrod.

    +

    Blavin is squirming around on the floor gibbering about + reassigning your case.

    +

    The duck has found a toppled plate of corn chips and is + happily snacking away.

    +

    You feel like your welcome at Lucy’s Basement has been, for + the moment, overstayed.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    www

    + ]]> +     +     21 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) @@ -399,175 +771,6 @@ ]]> - - 25 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 25 - Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16 --0600 - Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16 -0600 - - 00025 -
    -

    Corraidhin Shit, shit shit shit shit shit. - This is NOT good. Damn it Y’aml what was that? It wasn’t even - slightly stealthy

    -

    Y’aml STAB, delightful blood. Stab the - flesh, tear the skin, pierce the fruit that gives us strength. - Drink the blood, consume their soul. More more more more more - more more more more

    -

    Corraidhin (internal thought) Ugh my head, - it’s heavy, hurts. Misty and red? I can’t see straight, it’s - hard to think straight. That blasted sword, I thought for a - moment it, no, not think, it definitely did move on its own. - It became lighter and heavier. Pulling against it and it just - weighs itself down. This little magical bauble is definitely - cursed..

    -

    Y’aml CURSED?! Rude Hardy Bear. All we did - was stab that evil hobbit. And it’s getting away! Stab him - again, taste his blood! The tavern gaurds are closing in, they - look like they’re trying to get rid of us, EVIL. Them trying - to stop us from getting that evil hobbit is EVIL, STAB - THEM.

    -

    Corraidhin raises his free hand to his head as though - holding a wound and he groans in dismay as the dagger rises - again. It travels swiftly down towards Blavin, missing as he - slithers of the booth. And again, digging deep into the wooden - seat.

    -

    Y’aml Disgusting wood, stab the flesh! - Stab the Hobbit Hardy Bear!

    -

    But Blavin was inching further out of reach towards the - gaurds. In desperation the dagger begins swinging side to - side, making furtive slashing moves in the direction of the - guards. The party is safely behind Corraidhin, but innocent - patrons and the guards are directly in their sights.

    -

    Corraidhin grabs his other hand and pulls hard, steadying - the swinging. STOP! I command you you blasted toothpick, STOP. - You’ve had your fun, now STOP. These people are innocent, this - man has done us no harm despite his potential “evils”, this is - entirely uncalled for!

    -

    Y’aml NO!!! EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. EVIL. - STAB.

    -

    The dull voice of the magical dagger rises, angry, - insistent. It consumes the last of Corraidhin’s mental - strength. All he hears is EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. Yet he - clings to his spare arm trying desparately to resist. At this - point the party and the tavern has cleared a wide path around - the sysorceor as he struggles with himself, mumbling, - sometimes yelling. EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. NO WE WILL NOT. - EVIL. INNOCENT. STAB BLOOD DRINK. EVIL. EVIL EVIL EVIL STAB - IT. MAKE IT BLEED. I WILL NO.. STAB IT. STAB HIM.

    -

    The voice seems to change, it dies down. Not yelling, but - commanding. Firm, calm, sane.

    -

    Stab them, stab them, make them bleed. Drink the blood, - consume the soul, free them from their evil being. Stab them, - stab them… over and over and over, as the sysorceor approaches - Blavin and the guards with a malevolent look in his ruby red - eyes.

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    Inky moves to stand next to Blavin and the nightclub - bouncers. Tossing a tiny “see-eye” container they had borrowed - from Master Corraidhín at him, Inky looks the sysorceor in the - eye and says, “You are not your sword.”

    -

    Watching the wizard’s expression, Inky continues, more - quietly, “If Master Corraidhín truly wishes to end the hobbit, - a mere imp would not stop him, but likewise, whatever he sets - his mind to do, a dagger cannot stop him either.”

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    Jarrod steps gently into the fray and activates his - FASCINATING CHARM, attempting to draw all eyes to him. He - carefully avoids the wild swinging of the - once-sword-now-dagger.

    -

    “I think,” he rumbles gently, “we could all use a drink - over the other end of the room. I’m buying, and I’ll spin you - all a tale of wonder! A tale of a wanderer, and of a war - hammer, and the first of their wild battles together!”

    -

    Leaning over to whisper urgently in Corraidhín’s ear: - “Friend, I do not know what occurs here, but pull yourself - together. We can later sate our blood lust in more appropriate - places!” Jarrod lends a sly wink in the sysorcerer’s - direction, one that promises adventure later.

    -
    -

    The tavern guards tense, but pause their advance, as the - crazed mage’s friends position themselves protectively around - him and try to placate him. They wouldn’t want to engage a - master sysorcerer on the best of days, much less one with some - kind of malevolent blood dagger in the middle of a psychotic - break. If his compatriots can handle him without them having - to interfere, all the better.

    -

    The duck waddles up next to Inky and quacks softly, - pleadingly at Corraidhin. Only the Ornithologer in the corner - can understand its words when it says, “As your marketing - manager I must strongly advise against this course of - action!”

    -

    Seated in the corner next to the Ornithologer is a shaggy - groll dressed in a dusty, faded poncho and a wide brimmed hat; - and a greasy, matted gnu, dressed in black ceremonial - robes.

    -

    The groll discreetly draws its poncho back revealing a - bandoleer of wands and draws a cracklestick and points it at - the sysorcer. The wand starts to hum and glow as it charges up - for a blast.

    -

    The gnu slaps the groll’s wrist, and immediately launches - into a tirade against the cracklestick’s manufacturer’s - proprietary spell slotting algorithm, and honestly how can you - possibly justify your choices when there are open source - alternatives available?

    -

    The groll rolls its eyes, obviously having been on the - receiving end of this particular lecture before, and tries to - slap away the gnu’s grasping hands. The ensuing scuffle - threatens to turn this powder keg of a situation into a full - blown conflagration until Jarrod actives his FASCINATING - CHARM, commanding the attention of the entire room.

    -

    The gnu freezes with its hands around the groll’s throat. - The groll halts with fists full of the gnu’s beard. A grub - smoking a hookah pauses with the mouthpiece raised to its - pursed lips. A distracted waitress on roller skates crashes - right into the bar.

    -
    -

    As though in a trance Corraidhin continues to yell STAB. - THEM. STAB. IT. cutting wildly at the air before him. As Inky - whispers to him his expression changes, first a grimace, then - a whimper. As Jarrod leads the patrons away from the sysorceor - he begins to tremble and cower away from himself, away from - everyone. His ruby red eyes dart back and forth between his - friends and the patrons, like a frightened animal searching - for an escape. He pulls the dagger into himself, as though - sheilding it from his surroundings.

    -

    What.. what’s going on, he mutters feebly to himself. - Everything is a blurr. Uncertain of where he is or what’s - going on, Corraidhin thumbs the dagger, caressing the large - ruby embedded in the hilt. Y’aml, you’re still here, good - good, the syscoreor croons.

    -

    Standing up straight his eyes lock with Jarrod as the Bard - glances over his shoulder, momentarily distracted from his - oration, worried about his companion.

    -

    I.. ugh, Corraidhin grabs his head as though in pain, and - collapses to the floor.

    -
    -

    Corraidhin hits the floor and the dagger, now bereft of the - well of emotion it had been drawing from, grows still. The eye - closes and it seems to sigh happily. “Good job, Hardy Bear. - You have spilled the blood of evil.” And it sleeps, inert, - lifeless.

    -

    Corraidhin is on the ground cradling the dagger.

    -

    Most of the patrons are still fascinated by Jarrod.

    -

    Blavin is squirming around on the floor gibbering about - reassigning your case.

    -

    The duck has found a toppled plate of corn chips and is - happily snacking away.

    -

    You feel like your welcome at Lucy’s Basement has been, for - the moment, overstayed.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     23 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) @@ -732,92 +935,6 @@ ]]> - - 26 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 26 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 --0600 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600 - - 00026 -
    -

    Inky slowly approaches Master Corraidhín and taps lightly - on the sleeve of his robes to get his attention. Between - Inky’s tugging and Jarrod’s strong, steady hand, they manage - to hoist the wizard to his feet.

    -

    With a brief glance at the hobbit on the floor then a nod - to Jarrod, Inky leaves the nightclub with the wizard. The - duck, having emptied the plate of corn chips in record time, - follows them shortly after.

    -

    The trek back to the Milk Market is mostly silent aside - from the occasional mutter and stumbling curse, the mage - seemingly having fallen asleep as soon as he landed on the cot - in the loft. Inky retreats downstairs after leaving a jug of - water, a mug and a small packet of kuding leaves beside the - bed.

    -

    Exiting through the back door into the night, Inky finds a - dark corner in a dusty abandoned house, and cries.

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    ” … and then the Orc Maiden said: ‘That’s not my - club!’”

    -

    The room roars with laughter, and Jarrod moves to the bar - and puts a bag of coin down. “Serve drinks until this runs - out!” Leaning over the bar to the bartender, Jarrod adds in a - whisper: “I owe a favour to Lucy’s Basement for the trouble. - Call it in when needed.”

    -

    Jarrod saunters over to Blavin, on the floor in pain. From - his pack, Jarrod retrieves a med kit and begins to bandage the - wound.

    -

    As Blavin opens his mouth, likely intending to raise all - kinds of hell, Jarrod pulls tight on the bandage he is - currently applying, drawing a curse from the hobbit. “Shut it! - Let’s be clear. You’ve hired us for a dangerous set of jobs, - with the understanding that we’re dangerous people. There may - be ‘accidents’ on occasion. You’ve learned something today, - and what’s more, you lived to absorb your new wisdom.”

    -

    Jarrod grins as he finishes with the bandage. “We will - finish what we have started. We’re probably the team with the - best chances, I’m sure you’ll agree. Are you going to back the - winning play here? Either way, your decision won’t change our - plans. I’m sure you know how to take the win.”

    -

    Jarrod pats the hobbit’s good shoulder in a friendly, but - dismissive, way, then turns and saunters out the door, trading - small quips with his new (and now very drunk) tavern - friends.

    -
    -

    You are at a small port town on the northern tip of - Agendell, just past the Rana’For Valley. The sun is bright and - the wind blowing in from the Sugrin Sea to the east is cool - and salty. The floating island-city of Vay’Neddas, bridging - Agendell and Primora, can be seen very faintly in the distance - hanging in the northern sky.

    -

    Your faithful multibeast is carrying all of your supplies - and gear, which were generously provided to you by the - indefatigable Blavin Blandfoot. His arm in a sling, he kept up - a constant nervous chatter as he saw you off on your journey - to recover the second Ginnarak Crystal.

    -

    From here, you can easily provision a boat to take you out - to the site of the shipwreck just off the coast.

    -

    Or, optionally, you are very close to the Hartlands. It - would be quite easy to make a quick visit to hemogoblins and - pick up some synthetic blood for your experiments with the - Sword of Yam’L.

    -

    The sword, incidentally, after finally tasting the blood of - “evil”, has remained sated and entirely inert and unresponsive - this whole time.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO:

    -
      -
    1. TO THE SHIPWRECK
      2. -
    2. BLOODQUEST
      3. -
    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     22 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) diff --git a/www/spoilers.html b/www/spoilers.html index 61af789..e17ad25 100644 --- a/www/spoilers.html +++ b/www/spoilers.html @@ -212,6 +212,7 @@
  • Characters
  • Bestiary
  • Geography
    • @@ -258,9 +260,9 @@ id="toc-acknowledgements">Acknowledgements

    Stats

    -

    Total length: 23421 words / 100 minute read.

    -

    There have been 97 messages posted over 107 days since the first post -on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .90 .

    +

    Total length: 24524 words / 104 minute read.

    +

    There have been 98 messages posted over 108 days since the first post +on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .90.

    About

    This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over email.

    @@ -306,6 +308,38 @@ story entirely.

  • Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start
  • Soulsword: Bloodlust
    • +

    Gabs

    +
    + +

    Bio

    +     +

    Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all grown adults +now, and she no longer wanted to toil away running a business. When she +initially shuttered her little tavern, she thought she might just +retire. She made it two whole years of working in a garden, occasionally +seeing grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided she +needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a nearby port +town. She was sure to find something fun to do there.

    +

    Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of debauchery +wafting from within made her miss her days gossiping at her tavern. She +enters and orders a terrible drink and listens and watches.

    +

    Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides, +“I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that sounds exciting!”

    +

    Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the +journey!

    +

    Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and +have fun!

    +
    +
      +
    • Player: archangelic
      • +
    • XP: 0
      • +
    • Skills: Do Anything 1
      • +
    • Equipment:
      • +
    +

    Paths:

    +
      +
    • Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start
      • +

    Glarg

    @@ -2816,6 +2850,99 @@ and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding the Diamond Howler, and sailing to the site of the wreck.

    www

    +

    00028

    +
    +

    a new player enters the chat

    +

    Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all grown adults +now, and she no longer wanted to toil away running a business. When she +initially shuttered her little tavern, she thought she might just +retire. She made it two whole years of working in a garden, occasionally +seeing grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided she +needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a nearby port +town. She was sure to find something fun to do there.

    +

    Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of debauchery +wafting from within made her miss her days gossiping at her tavern. She +enters and orders a terrible drink and listens and watches.

    +

    Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides, +“I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that sounds exciting!”

    +

    Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the +journey!

    +

    Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and +have fun!

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    Meta: a warm welcome to the latest member of our tea party! This is a +short post to help smooth the temporal jumps between the recent +narratives so far. As Inky reaches the deck, they see Gabs approaching +from the other side of the ship as well, and flashes them a grin in +greeting. After listening to the captain petering on about the glorious +days of the now sunken ship below, while tinkering with the bell’s +tentacles — being rewarded with a mild zap and marginally better fit for +the effort — Inky turns to the party. “When you’re ready.”

    +
    +

    You reach into the tank and discover that grabbing a breathing bell +takes some finesse. They are very slippery! But you get the hang of it +and make a ladle out of your hands and scoop one up.

    +

    “Okay now!” laughs Three-Fingered Gerald. He gives you a wink, but +it’s easy to miss because of the eyepatch. “Don’t put it on until right +before you jump. It won’t be able to breathe for you until you’re in the +water. And this!” he continues, fitting a heavy, padded vest around your +shoulders, “will carry you down.” It is a vest of many pockets, each one +holding a small dense sandbag the size of your hand. “When you’re ready +to come back up, just start dropping ballast, right?”

    +

    You hop up on the ship railing and pull the breathing bell on over +your head. It immediately contracts and squeezes and hugs your head like +a second skin, and its stubby little tentacles grab hold around your +jawline, and it feels like you have a wet plastic bag clinging to your +face, and you think you might have made a grave mistake. Resisting the +urge to panic, you push off the railing and jump overboard. You are +briefly air born and then profoundly waterbound, crashing through the +surface of the sea into the briny soup below.

    +

    The oxygen starts to flow as the breathing bell begins to do its job. +As you sink, you feel as though you are floating through space, entering +another world.

    +

    After a while you start to hear voices arguing in the distance. As +you get closer, two large shapes start to come into focus. The first is +a hulking, hairless merbear. Top half (hairless) bear, bottom half fish. +The second figure is a tardigrade the size of a large merbear. It has +eight jointless legs, each tipped with four sharp claws. It wriggles and +wobbles like jelly as it gesticulates.

    +

    “No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water Bear, after +all!”

    +

    “Hornswoggle and poppycock! It is I who am the Bear of the Sea! I am +half bear after all! You’re just some kind of segmented nematode or +something.”

    +

    The tardigrade quivers with indignation. “I’ll have you know I’m a +panarthropod, thank you very much. And this is the ideal physical body! +You may not like it, but this is what peak performance looks like. I’ve +lived under the polar ice cap, and in a sulfurous mountaintop hot +spring. I’ve traveled through the vacuum of space to the moon! Have you +ever been to the moon?”

    +

    “Why don’t you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like it so +much!”

    +

    “You’re just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure you’re not +the Fish of the Sea?”

    +

    “Are you sure you’re not the Blob of the Sea, you too many armed bowl +of jelly?”

    +

    “Hey! Hey, you there!” The arguing quasi-bears have spotted your slow +descent. “Come, yes, float slowly this way! You must settle an argument +for us! Tell this slightly mammalian fish that I am the true Bear of the +Sea!”

    +

    “The Bear of the Sea must be at least ‘slightly mammalian’ you +egg-laying scientific curiosity! You, tell this cousin of a barnacle +that I—the mighty merbear—am the true Bear of the Sea! Say this and I +will guide and protect you on your journey.”

    +

    “No! Would you like to visit the moon? Say that I, tardigrade, am +Bear of the Sea and I will introduce you to my moon friends!”

    +

    “He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth can stand +him!”

    +

    “You’re just mean, you know that?”

    +

    You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is no sight +of the SS RSS.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    www

    Bestiary

    Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria