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Dozens B. McCuzzins 2022-10-29 10:07:31 -06:00
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2
basement.order
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@ -1,6 +1,7 @@
src/about.md src/about.md
src/characters/index.md src/characters/index.md
src/characters/corraidhin.md src/characters/corraidhin.md
src/characters/gabs.md
src/characters/glarg.md src/characters/glarg.md
src/characters/inky.md src/characters/inky.md
src/characters/jarrod.md src/characters/jarrod.md
@ -21,6 +22,7 @@ src/epistolary/00024.md
src/epistolary/00025.md src/epistolary/00025.md
src/epistolary/00026.md src/epistolary/00026.md
src/epistolary/00027.md src/epistolary/00027.md
src/epistolary/00028.md
src/bestiary/index.md src/bestiary/index.md
src/bestiary/aur.md src/bestiary/aur.md
src/bestiary/blahoblin.md src/bestiary/blahoblin.md

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---
title: gabs
created: Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:41:37 -0600
updated: Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:41:37 -0600
public: yes
---
### Gabs
<details>
<summary>Bio</summary>
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!
</details>
- Player: archangelic
- XP: 0
- Skills: Do Anything 1
- Equipment:
Paths:
- Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start

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---
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)

131
www/index.html
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@ -212,6 +212,7 @@
<li><a href="#characters" id="toc-characters">Characters</a> <li><a href="#characters" id="toc-characters">Characters</a>
<ul> <ul>
<li><a href="#corraidhín" id="toc-corraidhín">Corraidhín</a></li> <li><a href="#corraidhín" id="toc-corraidhín">Corraidhín</a></li>
<li><a href="#gabs" id="toc-gabs">Gabs</a></li>
<li><a href="#glarg" id="toc-glarg">Glarg</a></li> <li><a href="#glarg" id="toc-glarg">Glarg</a></li>
<li><a href="#inky" id="toc-inky">Inky</a></li> <li><a href="#inky" id="toc-inky">Inky</a></li>
<li><a href="#jarrod" id="toc-jarrod">Jarrod</a></li> <li><a href="#jarrod" id="toc-jarrod">Jarrod</a></li>
@ -246,6 +247,7 @@ of the Were-Hare</a></li>
<li><a href="#00025" id="toc-00025">00025</a></li> <li><a href="#00025" id="toc-00025">00025</a></li>
<li><a href="#00026" id="toc-00026">00026</a></li> <li><a href="#00026" id="toc-00026">00026</a></li>
<li><a href="#00027" id="toc-00027">00027</a></li> <li><a href="#00027" id="toc-00027">00027</a></li>
<li><a href="#00028" id="toc-00028">00028</a></li>
</ul></li> </ul></li>
<li><a href="#bestiary" id="toc-bestiary">Bestiary</a></li> <li><a href="#bestiary" id="toc-bestiary">Bestiary</a></li>
<li><a href="#geography" id="toc-geography">Geography</a></li> <li><a href="#geography" id="toc-geography">Geography</a></li>
@ -255,8 +257,8 @@ of the Were-Hare</a></li>
</ul> </ul>
</nav> </nav>
<h2 id="stats">Stats</h2> <h2 id="stats">Stats</h2>
<p>Total length: 23421 words / 100 minute read.</p> <p>Total length: 24524 words / 104 minute read.</p>
<p>There have been 97 messages posted over 107 days since the first post <p>There have been 98 messages posted over 108 days since the first post
on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .90.</p> on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .90.</p>
<h2 id="about">About</h2> <h2 id="about">About</h2>
<p>This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over <p>This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over
@ -303,6 +305,38 @@ story entirely.</p>
<li>Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start</li> <li>Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start</li>
<li>Soulsword: Bloodlust</li> <li>Soulsword: Bloodlust</li>
</ul> </ul>
<h3 id="gabs">Gabs</h3>
<details>
<summary>
<p>Bio</p>
</summary>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides,
“I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that sounds exciting!”</p>
<p>Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the
journey!</p>
<p>Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and
have fun!</p>
</details>
<ul>
<li>Player: archangelic</li>
<li>XP: 0</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1</li>
<li>Equipment:</li>
</ul>
<p>Paths:</p>
<ul>
<li>Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start</li>
</ul>
<h3 id="glarg">Glarg</h3> <h3 id="glarg">Glarg</h3>
<details> <details>
<summary> <summary>
@ -2813,6 +2847,99 @@ and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding the Diamond Howler, and sailing
to the site of the wreck.</p> to the site of the wreck.</p>
<p><a <p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00020.html">www</a></p> href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00020.html">www</a></p>
<h3 id="00028">00028</h3>
<blockquote>
<p><sub><em>a new player enters the chat</em></sub></p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides,
“I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that sounds exciting!”</p>
<p>Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the
journey!</p>
<p>Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and
have fun!</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“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?”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water Bear, after
all!”</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>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?”</p>
<p>“Why don’t you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like it so
much!”</p>
<p>“You’re just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure you’re not
the Fish of the Sea?”</p>
<p>“Are you sure you’re not the Blob of the Sea, you too many armed bowl
of jelly?”</p>
<p>“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!”</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>“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!”</p>
<p>“He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth can stand
him!”</p>
<p>“You’re just mean, you know that?”</p>
<p>You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is no sight
of the SS RSS.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00023.html">www</a></p>
<h2 id="bestiary">Bestiary</h2> <h2 id="bestiary">Bestiary</h2>
<p>Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria</p> <p>Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria</p>
<dt> <dt>

627
www/rss.xml
View File

@ -5,6 +5,209 @@
<title>BASEMENT QWEST</title> <title>BASEMENT QWEST</title>
<link>https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml</link> <link>https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml</link>
<description>Friends having ADVENTURES! Huzzah!</description> <description>Friends having ADVENTURES! Huzzah!</description>
<item>
<title>28</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">28 - Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51
-0600</guid>
<pubDate>Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 -0600</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00028">00028</h3>
<blockquote>
<p><sub><em>a new player enters the chat</em></sub></p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she
decides, “I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that
sounds exciting!”</p>
<p>Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join
on the journey!</p>
<p>Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to
schmooze and have fun!</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“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?”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water
Bear, after all!”</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>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?”</p>
<p>“Why don’t you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like
it so much!”</p>
<p>“You’re just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure
you’re not the Fish of the Sea?”</p>
<p>“Are you sure you’re not the Blob of the Sea, you too many
armed bowl of jelly?”</p>
<p>“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!”</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>“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!”</p>
<p>“He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth
can stand him!”</p>
<p>“You’re just mean, you know that?”</p>
<p>You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is
no sight of the SS RSS.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00023.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>26</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">26 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22
-0600</guid>
<pubDate>Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00026">00026</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Exiting through the back door into the night, Inky finds a
dark corner in a dusty abandoned house, and cries.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>” … and then the Orc Maiden said: ‘That’s not my
club!’”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>Jarrod saunters over to Blavin, on the floor in pain. From
his pack, Jarrod retrieves a med kit and begins to bandage the
wound.</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>From here, you can easily provision a boat to take you out
to the site of the shipwreck just off the coast.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>The sword, incidentally, after finally tasting the blood of
“evil”, has remained sated and entirely inert and unresponsive
this whole time.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO:</p>
<ol type="1">
<li>TO THE SHIPWRECK</li>
<li>BLOODQUEST</li>
</ol>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00018.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item> <item>
<title>24</title> <title>24</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author> <author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
@ -108,6 +311,175 @@
]]> ]]>
</description> </description>
</item> </item>
<item>
<title>25</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">25 - Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16
-0600</guid>
<pubDate>Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16 -0600</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00025">00025</h3>
<blockquote>
<p><strong>Corraidhin</strong> Shit, shit shit shit shit shit.
This is NOT good. Damn it Y’aml what was that? It wasn’t even
slightly stealthy</p>
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong> 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</p>
<p><strong>Corraidhin (internal thought)</strong> 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..</p>
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong> 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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong> Disgusting wood, stab the flesh!
Stab the Hobbit Hardy Bear!</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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!</p>
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong> NO!!! EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. EVIL.
STAB.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>The voice seems to change, it dies down. Not yelling, but
commanding. Firm, calm, sane.</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“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!”</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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!”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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?</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Standing up straight his eyes lock with Jarrod as the Bard
glances over his shoulder, momentarily distracted from his
oration, worried about his companion.</p>
<p>I.. ugh, Corraidhin grabs his head as though in pain, and
collapses to the floor.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Corraidhin is on the ground cradling the dagger.</p>
<p>Most of the patrons are still fascinated by Jarrod.</p>
<p>Blavin is squirming around on the floor gibbering about
reassigning your case.</p>
<p>The duck has found a toppled plate of corn chips and is
happily snacking away.</p>
<p>You feel like your welcome at Lucy’s Basement has been, for
the moment, overstayed.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00015.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item> <item>
<title>21</title> <title>21</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author> <author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
@ -399,175 +771,6 @@
]]> ]]>
</description> </description>
</item> </item>
<item>
<title>25</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">25 - Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16
-0600</guid>
<pubDate>Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16 -0600</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00025">00025</h3>
<blockquote>
<p><strong>Corraidhin</strong> Shit, shit shit shit shit shit.
This is NOT good. Damn it Y’aml what was that? It wasn’t even
slightly stealthy</p>
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong> 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</p>
<p><strong>Corraidhin (internal thought)</strong> 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..</p>
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong> 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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong> Disgusting wood, stab the flesh!
Stab the Hobbit Hardy Bear!</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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!</p>
<p><strong>Y’aml</strong> NO!!! EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. EVIL.
STAB.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>The voice seems to change, it dies down. Not yelling, but
commanding. Firm, calm, sane.</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“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!”</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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!”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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?</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Standing up straight his eyes lock with Jarrod as the Bard
glances over his shoulder, momentarily distracted from his
oration, worried about his companion.</p>
<p>I.. ugh, Corraidhin grabs his head as though in pain, and
collapses to the floor.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Corraidhin is on the ground cradling the dagger.</p>
<p>Most of the patrons are still fascinated by Jarrod.</p>
<p>Blavin is squirming around on the floor gibbering about
reassigning your case.</p>
<p>The duck has found a toppled plate of corn chips and is
happily snacking away.</p>
<p>You feel like your welcome at Lucy’s Basement has been, for
the moment, overstayed.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00015.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item> <item>
<title>23</title> <title>23</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author> <author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
@ -732,92 +935,6 @@
]]> ]]>
</description> </description>
</item> </item>
<item>
<title>26</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">26 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22
-0600</guid>
<pubDate>Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00026">00026</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Exiting through the back door into the night, Inky finds a
dark corner in a dusty abandoned house, and cries.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>” … and then the Orc Maiden said: ‘That’s not my
club!’”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>Jarrod saunters over to Blavin, on the floor in pain. From
his pack, Jarrod retrieves a med kit and begins to bandage the
wound.</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>From here, you can easily provision a boat to take you out
to the site of the shipwreck just off the coast.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>The sword, incidentally, after finally tasting the blood of
“evil”, has remained sated and entirely inert and unresponsive
this whole time.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO:</p>
<ol type="1">
<li>TO THE SHIPWRECK</li>
<li>BLOODQUEST</li>
</ol>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00018.html">www</a></p>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item> <item>
<title>22</title> <title>22</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author> <author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>

131
www/spoilers.html
View File

@ -212,6 +212,7 @@
<li><a href="#characters" id="toc-characters">Characters</a> <li><a href="#characters" id="toc-characters">Characters</a>
<ul> <ul>
<li><a href="#corraidhín" id="toc-corraidhín">Corraidhín</a></li> <li><a href="#corraidhín" id="toc-corraidhín">Corraidhín</a></li>
<li><a href="#gabs" id="toc-gabs">Gabs</a></li>
<li><a href="#glarg" id="toc-glarg">Glarg</a></li> <li><a href="#glarg" id="toc-glarg">Glarg</a></li>
<li><a href="#inky" id="toc-inky">Inky</a></li> <li><a href="#inky" id="toc-inky">Inky</a></li>
<li><a href="#jarrod" id="toc-jarrod">Jarrod</a></li> <li><a href="#jarrod" id="toc-jarrod">Jarrod</a></li>
@ -246,6 +247,7 @@ of the Were-Hare</a></li>
<li><a href="#00025" id="toc-00025">00025</a></li> <li><a href="#00025" id="toc-00025">00025</a></li>
<li><a href="#00026" id="toc-00026">00026</a></li> <li><a href="#00026" id="toc-00026">00026</a></li>
<li><a href="#00027" id="toc-00027">00027</a></li> <li><a href="#00027" id="toc-00027">00027</a></li>
<li><a href="#00028" id="toc-00028">00028</a></li>
</ul></li> </ul></li>
<li><a href="#bestiary" id="toc-bestiary">Bestiary</a></li> <li><a href="#bestiary" id="toc-bestiary">Bestiary</a></li>
<li><a href="#geography" id="toc-geography">Geography</a></li> <li><a href="#geography" id="toc-geography">Geography</a></li>
@ -258,8 +260,8 @@ id="toc-acknowledgements">Acknowledgements</a></li>
</ul> </ul>
</nav> </nav>
<h2 id="stats">Stats</h2> <h2 id="stats">Stats</h2>
<p>Total length: 23421 words / 100 minute read.</p> <p>Total length: 24524 words / 104 minute read.</p>
<p>There have been 97 messages posted over 107 days since the first post <p>There have been 98 messages posted over 108 days since the first post
on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .90.</p> on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .90.</p>
<h2 id="about">About</h2> <h2 id="about">About</h2>
<p>This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over <p>This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over
@ -306,6 +308,38 @@ story entirely.</p>
<li>Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start</li> <li>Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start</li>
<li>Soulsword: Bloodlust</li> <li>Soulsword: Bloodlust</li>
</ul> </ul>
<h3 id="gabs">Gabs</h3>
<details>
<summary>
<p>Bio</p>
</summary>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides,
“I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that sounds exciting!”</p>
<p>Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the
journey!</p>
<p>Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and
have fun!</p>
</details>
<ul>
<li>Player: archangelic</li>
<li>XP: 0</li>
<li>Skills: Do Anything 1</li>
<li>Equipment:</li>
</ul>
<p>Paths:</p>
<ul>
<li>Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start</li>
</ul>
<h3 id="glarg">Glarg</h3> <h3 id="glarg">Glarg</h3>
<details> <details>
<summary> <summary>
@ -2816,6 +2850,99 @@ and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding the Diamond Howler, and sailing
to the site of the wreck.</p> to the site of the wreck.</p>
<p><a <p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00020.html">www</a></p> href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00020.html">www</a></p>
<h3 id="00028">00028</h3>
<blockquote>
<p><sub><em>a new player enters the chat</em></sub></p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she decides,
“I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that sounds exciting!”</p>
<p>Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join on the
journey!</p>
<p>Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to schmooze and
have fun!</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“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?”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water Bear, after
all!”</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>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?”</p>
<p>“Why don’t you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like it so
much!”</p>
<p>“You’re just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure you’re not
the Fish of the Sea?”</p>
<p>“Are you sure you’re not the Blob of the Sea, you too many armed bowl
of jelly?”</p>
<p>“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!”</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>“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!”</p>
<p>“He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth can stand
him!”</p>
<p>“You’re just mean, you know that?”</p>
<p>You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is no sight
of the SS RSS.</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<p><a
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00023.html">www</a></p>
<h2 id="bestiary">Bestiary</h2> <h2 id="bestiary">Bestiary</h2>
<p>Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria</p> <p>Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria</p>
<dt> <dt>