Total length: 74808 words / 319 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the +
Total length: 75661 words / 323 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not just the story.)
-There have been 201 messages posted over 191 days since the first +
There have been 202 messages posted over 191 days since the first post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.05.
This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over @@ -6625,6 +6626,216 @@ your dreamform from your waking body. Which would leave your body a soulless husk, and leave your consciousness adrift in the Sea of Dreams. But that probably won’t happen! Okay good luck, have fun!
WHAT DO YOU DO
+++Alex lifts his teacup and sips the fragrantly tea, “perfumed of +rosehips, and cardamum? An interesting choice. I appreciate it Inky, +these past few days have been terribly rough, and I’m rather tired of +field rations.” Alex takes a sip, and then continues hurridly. “I’ve +been monitoring the Bazar, we are in grave danger. It started with just +me, but I fear it’s bled over to everyone here at the Milk Market. I +can’t be entirely certain.”
+Alex looks worriedly at Inky. “There’s a lot going on here. As soon +as we got back from Kelsun I was sent on an assignment, normally not an +issue, but they wanted me to level 3 of the busiest coffee shops in the +bazar. I planted those bombs, alongside listening devices, and then I +bugged out. My team appears to have been assigned equally bizarre +assignments, all rather violent messy things. A lot of innocent lives +are on the line here.”
+“We dropped off the grid, I’ve got an isolated listening post in the +sewers here, it’s heavily reinforced and that’s where I’ve been hiding +out, but I’m not certain it’s safe. Agent 5 found a melon vendor dead in +the market, and this vendor was specifically seeking out the Milk +Market, looking for us. I believe it may be an assassin, could be from +HQ, could be from Blavin. It’s entirely opaque to me.”
+“As far as I can tell, my agents are all loyal to me, there’s 5 of +them in total, 6 if you count me. We could man the ship and get the hell +out of here in a few hours, and it may be our best chance. But there’s +the iris letter we need to attend to, and I cannot for the life of me +find anything, not a damn trace, of Blavin. And I think all of this +bodes very poorly for us.”
+Alex looks worriedly at Inky, and you’re telling me we have a ritual +we have to perform, to find the iris group’s meeting place.. I’m leery +Ink, I have to be you see. But my uncle trusted you, and I do as well. +If you think this is our best shot, we can hole up in the sewers and try +to perform this dream walk of your witch friend’s. But if this iris +business turns out to be a trap, well, how well can you handle a +gun?
+
~
+++“Your courage and concern are admirable, Master Alex. Caution is +likewise advisable.” Inky nods seriously.
+The next moment, they gave the sysorcerer a slightly deranged grin. +“I’m sure you have already seen many grave dangers. What’s another one +for the bucket list? What’s life if not violent and messy? So many +melons dismembered and laid waste daily—”
+As if suddenly recalling a detail, Inky pauses and blinks. “Melon +vendor? Oh, poor Pepo. He has been complaining about his neighbour’s boa +constrictors for years. The serpents were drawn to the rodents his +fruits typically attracted, which might not have been a problem were it +not for them hanging out at his stall and scaring off his customers. +Maybe he finally took matters into his own hands, with tragic results.” +They look at an empty mixing bowl across the table glumly. “He had +offered to bring over a few of the new variety as soon as they arrived, +as he was already delivering to a household the next district over.”
+They send Master Alex a sidelong glance. “Someone is after you? You +didn’t do something horrid like help an old grandmother cross the street +on sockless skates, for instance?” Refilling the sysorcerer’s cup, Inky +continues, “As for Blavin, only 3 of the crystals have been recovered. +Blavin knows Team 43 is his best chance of obtaining the others. Until +he has all the crystals, he will stay his hand. If he doesn’t know that, +then he is hardly a threat.”
+Setting down the teapot, Inky shrugs. “They seem eager to get our +attention. I suppose I could spare them their twelve minutes of fame, +for the right price. Enlightenment would probably be too much to ask of +a nightmare. If you’d rather take your team and make a run for it +instead, that’s fine too. If they come knocking I’ll just tell them you +missed the hotel fondue at Kelsun Peak.”
+Their gaze skips to one of the cups before they shake their head. “No +gun.” They turn around and take down a bamboo walking stick hanging from +a hook on a wall next to a worn coat. Inky grasps the handle and pulls. +It slides out quietly to reveal a long, thin, tapered surgical steel +tube which, if someone were to lean in for a closer inspection, is +sparsely covered in tiny, needle-like protrusions along the surface. On +the underside, a transparent sliver ran the length of the tube to end +about a forefinger’s length from the handle. Visible through the narrow +window is a colourless liquid, most likely a sedative or toxin, fills +the reinforced steel interior.
+They smile mirthlessly at Master Alex. “I don’t know that Master +Corraidhín trusted me, because if he did, it would have been the most +foolhardy thing the wise man has ever done. You would do well to not +make that mistake.”
+
~
+++“It doesn’t sound like we have all too much of an option”, Alex says, +as a little Scarab beetle in his pocket chimes, “that’ll be the dead +man’s trigger going off in my hideout.”
+Alex frowns, shame to lose all of that data, those systems, that +hideout.. but I hope whoever broke in enjoys thermite, assuming they +don’t asphyxiate quickly enough to miss the fun..
+Inky, you’re right, life is a bit violent and messy, so lets bring +the violent mess to these bastards. If you’ve got a lead on this with +this dream ritual, then fuck it, lets take the risk. I won’t run from +this fight, my uncle sure as hell wouldn’t. And at worst, he’d go out +with a magnificient bang. Lets give it back tenfold, for poor Pepo.
+Nodding his own approval Alex continues, I have another hideout in +the eastern quandrant, near the sysorcerer’s guild. It’s a little risky +to head out that way, but none of my Zabbix alerts indicate it was +compromised. It has automated IDS and IPS systems, so we should be safe +enough in there once we whole up. At very least we’ll know if someone +comes for us, and we’ll have a little bit of time to react on it. We +should bring the Toques with us, and little blod clot, and the duck.
+Looking sorrowfully at Enrique, “I think it might be best if you got +the hell out of dodge too friend, it isn’t safe, and I don’t want to see +you become collateral here. Head down to the wharf, I’ll have agent 5 +meet you there, he’ll help you and your family lay low until all of this +blows over.”
+
~
+++At Enrique’s deep frown, Inky sighs and adds, “Might as well do as +Master Alex says. He can spot danger twelve blocks away, and turtle soup +is really out of fashion these days.”
+Then they excuse themselves to pack a few items, returning about +fifteen minutes later with a knapsack and a cross-strap carrier draped +in a black cloth cover. Inky says, “I hope you don’t mind if I bring +along a guest as well.”
+The cover is pulled back to expose a dome-shaped birdhouse, with +transparent circular rings at the top partially obscured by sliding +shutters of the same shape. A wooden hoop with a woven, web-like pattern +and adorned with a string of feathers hangs from one side. On the +opposite side is a double door with a miniature knob over each door. +Inky lightly taps on one of the doors, and at a low click coming from +within in response, swings the doors wide enough for the kitchen lamps +to illuminate the great horned owl resting on a pillow inside. The bird +opens one amber eye for a moment, gaze sweeping idly across the +occupants in the room before dozing off again.
+“This is Fuko. She and her twin brother Futa have certain shared +connections. What one sees, the other will also know. I asked their +caretaker if I could borrow them for a while. Fuko will accompany me for +the ritual. Her brother is at another location and can send a message if +a need arises.” Inky explains with a wry expression. “Think of it as a +minor indulgence of sorts. I was told their kind, along with eagle owls, +are very good at negotiating with those of the ravens.”
+They give the owl a small smile. “She may be a little temperamental, +but she is well-trained.” Closing the birdhouse doors, Inky turns back +to Master Alex. “I suppose you’d rather not reveal the location of your +hideout to any more people than necessary. Her carrier will remain +covered on the way in and out.”
+
Gliftwirp stands under the branches of a tree, pooled in shadow, far +from the small gathering. He has been to plenty of funerals. Often under +these very circumstances, in fact. And he always keeps his distance out +of respect.
+For one, he owns no clothes but his vest, sash, and trousers. And his +bright red colors would be a sign of disrespect among the mourners. +Secondly and most importantly, he himself is the one who put the man in +the ground.
+Sadly, he had little choice. He had underestimated the sysorcer. +Didn’t realize he had his own agents working for him. When he realized +that one of the agents had been in contact with the melon vendor, he +knew that Popplewick could and would identify the warpwefter if +pressured.
+Gliftwirp had grown to enjoy his daily chats with the melon vendor. +Popplewick was a kind, determined man. A refugee from the Cinderlands, +his family came to Vay’Nullar following the Artifice Wars when he was +just a boy. He grew up poor, and often relied on the generosity of +others. But eventually he was able to support himself and his small +family. He was proud of the life he had built.
+So Gliftwirp took no pleasure in what came next. Late one night when +Popplewick was on his way home from the market, the assassin slipped a +bag over his head and dragged him into a dark alley. He cinched the bag +tight, cutting off his air. There was a brief struggle before Popplewick +passed out and Gliftwirp lowered him down to the ground. He held him +there, unconscious and not breathing, until he was gone. In only took +but a moment. And then Gliftwirp stood up and left.
+Now at the funeral, the mourners leave one by one. Until only the +widow is left, cradling a small sleeping child to her chest. “Oh, Pepo,” +she whispers to the headstone. “What can I do now?”
+When she leaves, she does not return to the main path. She meanders +slowly as though in a daze toward the back of the graveyard and down the +hill. She steps into the wood. A flash of red follows her at a +distance.
+She kneels on the banks of the forest river and sets the child down +on wide flat rock. It is awake now and looks up at her with solemn eyes. +“I am sorry, made-of-me,” she says to the child. And that is all the +explanation it gets.
+She stands and turns and walks away. The child watches her go.
+When she has been gone for some minutes, Gliftwirp steps out of the +shadows and crouches down beside the child. It looks up and reaches for +him. “Look at you,” he says to the child as he scoops it up. “Who would +throw you away? A perfectly good baby!” He stands and bounces the child. +“A sweet little melon rind is what you are. Ha! Very well. Come, Rind, +we have work to do.”
+The assassin, child in his arms, walks back toward the city.
+~
+In the aftermath, Agent 5 is found down by the docks. They clearly +struggled in death. The assassin blamed him for Popplewick’s death and +the widow’s weakness.
+Down in the sewers, two tiny mittened hands reach up and awkwardly +turn the doorknob to Alex’s hideout. The bolt clears the latch with a +faint click. Two tiny cloth hands struggle against the heavy iron door, +pushing it slowly open, inch by inch. A mechanism clicks inside and +there is a whoosh of air and then a boom as the bunker violently +ignites. The tiny figure is incinerated, and blown back into the sewer +tunnel.
+Gliftwirp steps forward into the light of the blaze and crouches down +by the tiny figure. He picks it up, a tattered and burned bundle of +cloth. “Look, Rind,” he says to the small child standing at his elbow. +“You must always acknowledge and be grateful for those who sacrifice for +you.” He starts to untie and unfold the cloth puppet as he speaks. It +unfurls and smooths out and stitches itself back together under his +touch. Even the burn marks fade, and soon Gliftwirp is once again +holding his red sash.
+“Now, Rind,” he says standing up and taking the child’s hand, +squinting into the fire. “Let’s see what we can salvage here.”
+WHAT DO YOU DO
+Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria
++Alex lifts his teacup and sips the fragrantly tea, + “perfumed of rosehips, and cardamum? An interesting choice. I + appreciate it Inky, these past few days have been terribly + rough, and I’m rather tired of field rations.” Alex takes a + sip, and then continues hurridly. “I’ve been monitoring the + Bazar, we are in grave danger. It started with just me, but I + fear it’s bled over to everyone here at the Milk Market. I + can’t be entirely certain.”
+Alex looks worriedly at Inky. “There’s a lot going on here. + As soon as we got back from Kelsun I was sent on an + assignment, normally not an issue, but they wanted me to level + 3 of the busiest coffee shops in the bazar. I planted those + bombs, alongside listening devices, and then I bugged out. My + team appears to have been assigned equally bizarre + assignments, all rather violent messy things. A lot of + innocent lives are on the line here.”
+“We dropped off the grid, I’ve got an isolated listening + post in the sewers here, it’s heavily reinforced and that’s + where I’ve been hiding out, but I’m not certain it’s safe. + Agent 5 found a melon vendor dead in the market, and this + vendor was specifically seeking out the Milk Market, looking + for us. I believe it may be an assassin, could be from HQ, + could be from Blavin. It’s entirely opaque to me.”
+“As far as I can tell, my agents are all loyal to me, + there’s 5 of them in total, 6 if you count me. We could man + the ship and get the hell out of here in a few hours, and it + may be our best chance. But there’s the iris letter we need to + attend to, and I cannot for the life of me find anything, not + a damn trace, of Blavin. And I think all of this bodes very + poorly for us.”
+Alex looks worriedly at Inky, and you’re telling me we have + a ritual we have to perform, to find the iris group’s meeting + place.. I’m leery Ink, I have to be you see. But my uncle + trusted you, and I do as well. If you think this is our best + shot, we can hole up in the sewers and try to perform this + dream walk of your witch friend’s. But if this iris business + turns out to be a trap, well, how well can you handle a + gun?
+
~
+++“Your courage and concern are admirable, Master Alex. + Caution is likewise advisable.” Inky nods seriously.
+The next moment, they gave the sysorcerer a slightly + deranged grin. “I’m sure you have already seen many grave + dangers. What’s another one for the bucket list? What’s life + if not violent and messy? So many melons dismembered and laid + waste daily—”
+As if suddenly recalling a detail, Inky pauses and blinks. + “Melon vendor? Oh, poor Pepo. He has been complaining about + his neighbour’s boa constrictors for years. The serpents were + drawn to the rodents his fruits typically attracted, which + might not have been a problem were it not for them hanging out + at his stall and scaring off his customers. Maybe he finally + took matters into his own hands, with tragic results.” They + look at an empty mixing bowl across the table glumly. “He had + offered to bring over a few of the new variety as soon as they + arrived, as he was already delivering to a household the next + district over.”
+They send Master Alex a sidelong glance. “Someone is after + you? You didn’t do something horrid like help an old + grandmother cross the street on sockless skates, for + instance?” Refilling the sysorcerer’s cup, Inky continues, “As + for Blavin, only 3 of the crystals have been recovered. Blavin + knows Team 43 is his best chance of obtaining the others. + Until he has all the crystals, he will stay his hand. If he + doesn’t know that, then he is hardly a threat.”
+Setting down the teapot, Inky shrugs. “They seem eager to + get our attention. I suppose I could spare them their twelve + minutes of fame, for the right price. Enlightenment would + probably be too much to ask of a nightmare. If you’d rather + take your team and make a run for it instead, that’s fine too. + If they come knocking I’ll just tell them you missed the hotel + fondue at Kelsun Peak.”
+Their gaze skips to one of the cups before they shake their + head. “No gun.” They turn around and take down a bamboo + walking stick hanging from a hook on a wall next to a worn + coat. Inky grasps the handle and pulls. It slides out quietly + to reveal a long, thin, tapered surgical steel tube which, if + someone were to lean in for a closer inspection, is sparsely + covered in tiny, needle-like protrusions along the surface. On + the underside, a transparent sliver ran the length of the tube + to end about a forefinger’s length from the handle. Visible + through the narrow window is a colourless liquid, most likely + a sedative or toxin, fills the reinforced steel interior.
+They smile mirthlessly at Master Alex. “I don’t know that + Master Corraidhín trusted me, because if he did, it would have + been the most foolhardy thing the wise man has ever done. You + would do well to not make that mistake.”
+
~
+++“It doesn’t sound like we have all too much of an option”, + Alex says, as a little Scarab beetle in his pocket chimes, + “that’ll be the dead man’s trigger going off in my + hideout.”
+Alex frowns, shame to lose all of that data, those systems, + that hideout.. but I hope whoever broke in enjoys thermite, + assuming they don’t asphyxiate quickly enough to miss the + fun..
+Inky, you’re right, life is a bit violent and messy, so + lets bring the violent mess to these bastards. If you’ve got a + lead on this with this dream ritual, then fuck it, lets take + the risk. I won’t run from this fight, my uncle sure as hell + wouldn’t. And at worst, he’d go out with a magnificient bang. + Lets give it back tenfold, for poor Pepo.
+Nodding his own approval Alex continues, I have another + hideout in the eastern quandrant, near the sysorcerer’s guild. + It’s a little risky to head out that way, but none of my + Zabbix alerts indicate it was compromised. It has automated + IDS and IPS systems, so we should be safe enough in there once + we whole up. At very least we’ll know if someone comes for us, + and we’ll have a little bit of time to react on it. We should + bring the Toques with us, and little blod clot, and the + duck.
+Looking sorrowfully at Enrique, “I think it might be best + if you got the hell out of dodge too friend, it isn’t safe, + and I don’t want to see you become collateral here. Head down + to the wharf, I’ll have agent 5 meet you there, he’ll help you + and your family lay low until all of this blows over.”
+
~
+++At Enrique’s deep frown, Inky sighs and adds, “Might as + well do as Master Alex says. He can spot danger twelve blocks + away, and turtle soup is really out of fashion these + days.”
+Then they excuse themselves to pack a few items, returning + about fifteen minutes later with a knapsack and a cross-strap + carrier draped in a black cloth cover. Inky says, “I hope you + don’t mind if I bring along a guest as well.”
+The cover is pulled back to expose a dome-shaped birdhouse, + with transparent circular rings at the top partially obscured + by sliding shutters of the same shape. A wooden hoop with a + woven, web-like pattern and adorned with a string of feathers + hangs from one side. On the opposite side is a double door + with a miniature knob over each door. Inky lightly taps on one + of the doors, and at a low click coming from within in + response, swings the doors wide enough for the kitchen lamps + to illuminate the great horned owl resting on a pillow inside. + The bird opens one amber eye for a moment, gaze sweeping idly + across the occupants in the room before dozing off again.
+“This is Fuko. She and her twin brother Futa have certain + shared connections. What one sees, the other will also know. I + asked their caretaker if I could borrow them for a while. Fuko + will accompany me for the ritual. Her brother is at another + location and can send a message if a need arises.” Inky + explains with a wry expression. “Think of it as a minor + indulgence of sorts. I was told their kind, along with eagle + owls, are very good at negotiating with those of the + ravens.”
+They give the owl a small smile. “She may be a little + temperamental, but she is well-trained.” Closing the birdhouse + doors, Inky turns back to Master Alex. “I suppose you’d rather + not reveal the location of your hideout to any more people + than necessary. Her carrier will remain covered on the way in + and out.”
+
Gliftwirp stands under the branches of a tree, pooled in + shadow, far from the small gathering. He has been to plenty of + funerals. Often under these very circumstances, in fact. And + he always keeps his distance out of respect.
+For one, he owns no clothes but his vest, sash, and + trousers. And his bright red colors would be a sign of + disrespect among the mourners. Secondly and most importantly, + he himself is the one who put the man in the ground.
+Sadly, he had little choice. He had underestimated the + sysorcer. Didn’t realize he had his own agents working for + him. When he realized that one of the agents had been in + contact with the melon vendor, he knew that Popplewick could + and would identify the warpwefter if pressured.
+Gliftwirp had grown to enjoy his daily chats with the melon + vendor. Popplewick was a kind, determined man. A refugee from + the Cinderlands, his family came to Vay’Nullar following the + Artifice Wars when he was just a boy. He grew up poor, and + often relied on the generosity of others. But eventually he + was able to support himself and his small family. He was proud + of the life he had built.
+So Gliftwirp took no pleasure in what came next. Late one + night when Popplewick was on his way home from the market, the + assassin slipped a bag over his head and dragged him into a + dark alley. He cinched the bag tight, cutting off his air. + There was a brief struggle before Popplewick passed out and + Gliftwirp lowered him down to the ground. He held him there, + unconscious and not breathing, until he was gone. In only took + but a moment. And then Gliftwirp stood up and left.
+Now at the funeral, the mourners leave one by one. Until + only the widow is left, cradling a small sleeping child to her + chest. “Oh, Pepo,” she whispers to the headstone. “What can I + do now?”
+When she leaves, she does not return to the main path. She + meanders slowly as though in a daze toward the back of the + graveyard and down the hill. She steps into the wood. A flash + of red follows her at a distance.
+She kneels on the banks of the forest river and sets the + child down on wide flat rock. It is awake now and looks up at + her with solemn eyes. “I am sorry, made-of-me,” she says to + the child. And that is all the explanation it gets.
+She stands and turns and walks away. The child watches her + go.
+When she has been gone for some minutes, Gliftwirp steps + out of the shadows and crouches down beside the child. It + looks up and reaches for him. “Look at you,” he says to the + child as he scoops it up. “Who would throw you away? A + perfectly good baby!” He stands and bounces the child. “A + sweet little melon rind is what you are. Ha! Very well. Come, + Rind, we have work to do.”
+The assassin, child in his arms, walks back toward the + city.
+~
+In the aftermath, Agent 5 is found down by the docks. They + clearly struggled in death. The assassin blamed him for + Popplewick’s death and the widow’s weakness.
+Down in the sewers, two tiny mittened hands reach up and + awkwardly turn the doorknob to Alex’s hideout. The bolt clears + the latch with a faint click. Two tiny cloth hands struggle + against the heavy iron door, pushing it slowly open, inch by + inch. A mechanism clicks inside and there is a whoosh of air + and then a boom as the bunker violently ignites. The tiny + figure is incinerated, and blown back into the sewer + tunnel.
+Gliftwirp steps forward into the light of the blaze and + crouches down by the tiny figure. He picks it up, a tattered + and burned bundle of cloth. “Look, Rind,” he says to the small + child standing at his elbow. “You must always acknowledge and + be grateful for those who sacrifice for you.” He starts to + untie and unfold the cloth puppet as he speaks. It unfurls and + smooths out and stitches itself back together under his touch. + Even the burn marks fade, and soon Gliftwirp is once again + holding his red sash.
+“Now, Rind,” he says standing up and taking the child’s + hand, squinting into the fire. “Let’s see what we can salvage + here.”
+WHAT DO YOU DO
+Total length: 74808 words / 319 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the +
Total length: 75661 words / 323 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not just the story.)
-There have been 201 messages posted over 191 days since the first +
There have been 202 messages posted over 191 days since the first post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.05.
This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over @@ -6628,6 +6629,216 @@ your dreamform from your waking body. Which would leave your body a soulless husk, and leave your consciousness adrift in the Sea of Dreams. But that probably won’t happen! Okay good luck, have fun!
WHAT DO YOU DO
+++Alex lifts his teacup and sips the fragrantly tea, “perfumed of +rosehips, and cardamum? An interesting choice. I appreciate it Inky, +these past few days have been terribly rough, and I’m rather tired of +field rations.” Alex takes a sip, and then continues hurridly. “I’ve +been monitoring the Bazar, we are in grave danger. It started with just +me, but I fear it’s bled over to everyone here at the Milk Market. I +can’t be entirely certain.”
+Alex looks worriedly at Inky. “There’s a lot going on here. As soon +as we got back from Kelsun I was sent on an assignment, normally not an +issue, but they wanted me to level 3 of the busiest coffee shops in the +bazar. I planted those bombs, alongside listening devices, and then I +bugged out. My team appears to have been assigned equally bizarre +assignments, all rather violent messy things. A lot of innocent lives +are on the line here.”
+“We dropped off the grid, I’ve got an isolated listening post in the +sewers here, it’s heavily reinforced and that’s where I’ve been hiding +out, but I’m not certain it’s safe. Agent 5 found a melon vendor dead in +the market, and this vendor was specifically seeking out the Milk +Market, looking for us. I believe it may be an assassin, could be from +HQ, could be from Blavin. It’s entirely opaque to me.”
+“As far as I can tell, my agents are all loyal to me, there’s 5 of +them in total, 6 if you count me. We could man the ship and get the hell +out of here in a few hours, and it may be our best chance. But there’s +the iris letter we need to attend to, and I cannot for the life of me +find anything, not a damn trace, of Blavin. And I think all of this +bodes very poorly for us.”
+Alex looks worriedly at Inky, and you’re telling me we have a ritual +we have to perform, to find the iris group’s meeting place.. I’m leery +Ink, I have to be you see. But my uncle trusted you, and I do as well. +If you think this is our best shot, we can hole up in the sewers and try +to perform this dream walk of your witch friend’s. But if this iris +business turns out to be a trap, well, how well can you handle a +gun?
+
~
+++“Your courage and concern are admirable, Master Alex. Caution is +likewise advisable.” Inky nods seriously.
+The next moment, they gave the sysorcerer a slightly deranged grin. +“I’m sure you have already seen many grave dangers. What’s another one +for the bucket list? What’s life if not violent and messy? So many +melons dismembered and laid waste daily—”
+As if suddenly recalling a detail, Inky pauses and blinks. “Melon +vendor? Oh, poor Pepo. He has been complaining about his neighbour’s boa +constrictors for years. The serpents were drawn to the rodents his +fruits typically attracted, which might not have been a problem were it +not for them hanging out at his stall and scaring off his customers. +Maybe he finally took matters into his own hands, with tragic results.” +They look at an empty mixing bowl across the table glumly. “He had +offered to bring over a few of the new variety as soon as they arrived, +as he was already delivering to a household the next district over.”
+They send Master Alex a sidelong glance. “Someone is after you? You +didn’t do something horrid like help an old grandmother cross the street +on sockless skates, for instance?” Refilling the sysorcerer’s cup, Inky +continues, “As for Blavin, only 3 of the crystals have been recovered. +Blavin knows Team 43 is his best chance of obtaining the others. Until +he has all the crystals, he will stay his hand. If he doesn’t know that, +then he is hardly a threat.”
+Setting down the teapot, Inky shrugs. “They seem eager to get our +attention. I suppose I could spare them their twelve minutes of fame, +for the right price. Enlightenment would probably be too much to ask of +a nightmare. If you’d rather take your team and make a run for it +instead, that’s fine too. If they come knocking I’ll just tell them you +missed the hotel fondue at Kelsun Peak.”
+Their gaze skips to one of the cups before they shake their head. “No +gun.” They turn around and take down a bamboo walking stick hanging from +a hook on a wall next to a worn coat. Inky grasps the handle and pulls. +It slides out quietly to reveal a long, thin, tapered surgical steel +tube which, if someone were to lean in for a closer inspection, is +sparsely covered in tiny, needle-like protrusions along the surface. On +the underside, a transparent sliver ran the length of the tube to end +about a forefinger’s length from the handle. Visible through the narrow +window is a colourless liquid, most likely a sedative or toxin, fills +the reinforced steel interior.
+They smile mirthlessly at Master Alex. “I don’t know that Master +Corraidhín trusted me, because if he did, it would have been the most +foolhardy thing the wise man has ever done. You would do well to not +make that mistake.”
+
~
+++“It doesn’t sound like we have all too much of an option”, Alex says, +as a little Scarab beetle in his pocket chimes, “that’ll be the dead +man’s trigger going off in my hideout.”
+Alex frowns, shame to lose all of that data, those systems, that +hideout.. but I hope whoever broke in enjoys thermite, assuming they +don’t asphyxiate quickly enough to miss the fun..
+Inky, you’re right, life is a bit violent and messy, so lets bring +the violent mess to these bastards. If you’ve got a lead on this with +this dream ritual, then fuck it, lets take the risk. I won’t run from +this fight, my uncle sure as hell wouldn’t. And at worst, he’d go out +with a magnificient bang. Lets give it back tenfold, for poor Pepo.
+Nodding his own approval Alex continues, I have another hideout in +the eastern quandrant, near the sysorcerer’s guild. It’s a little risky +to head out that way, but none of my Zabbix alerts indicate it was +compromised. It has automated IDS and IPS systems, so we should be safe +enough in there once we whole up. At very least we’ll know if someone +comes for us, and we’ll have a little bit of time to react on it. We +should bring the Toques with us, and little blod clot, and the duck.
+Looking sorrowfully at Enrique, “I think it might be best if you got +the hell out of dodge too friend, it isn’t safe, and I don’t want to see +you become collateral here. Head down to the wharf, I’ll have agent 5 +meet you there, he’ll help you and your family lay low until all of this +blows over.”
+
~
+++At Enrique’s deep frown, Inky sighs and adds, “Might as well do as +Master Alex says. He can spot danger twelve blocks away, and turtle soup +is really out of fashion these days.”
+Then they excuse themselves to pack a few items, returning about +fifteen minutes later with a knapsack and a cross-strap carrier draped +in a black cloth cover. Inky says, “I hope you don’t mind if I bring +along a guest as well.”
+The cover is pulled back to expose a dome-shaped birdhouse, with +transparent circular rings at the top partially obscured by sliding +shutters of the same shape. A wooden hoop with a woven, web-like pattern +and adorned with a string of feathers hangs from one side. On the +opposite side is a double door with a miniature knob over each door. +Inky lightly taps on one of the doors, and at a low click coming from +within in response, swings the doors wide enough for the kitchen lamps +to illuminate the great horned owl resting on a pillow inside. The bird +opens one amber eye for a moment, gaze sweeping idly across the +occupants in the room before dozing off again.
+“This is Fuko. She and her twin brother Futa have certain shared +connections. What one sees, the other will also know. I asked their +caretaker if I could borrow them for a while. Fuko will accompany me for +the ritual. Her brother is at another location and can send a message if +a need arises.” Inky explains with a wry expression. “Think of it as a +minor indulgence of sorts. I was told their kind, along with eagle owls, +are very good at negotiating with those of the ravens.”
+They give the owl a small smile. “She may be a little temperamental, +but she is well-trained.” Closing the birdhouse doors, Inky turns back +to Master Alex. “I suppose you’d rather not reveal the location of your +hideout to any more people than necessary. Her carrier will remain +covered on the way in and out.”
+
Gliftwirp stands under the branches of a tree, pooled in shadow, far +from the small gathering. He has been to plenty of funerals. Often under +these very circumstances, in fact. And he always keeps his distance out +of respect.
+For one, he owns no clothes but his vest, sash, and trousers. And his +bright red colors would be a sign of disrespect among the mourners. +Secondly and most importantly, he himself is the one who put the man in +the ground.
+Sadly, he had little choice. He had underestimated the sysorcer. +Didn’t realize he had his own agents working for him. When he realized +that one of the agents had been in contact with the melon vendor, he +knew that Popplewick could and would identify the warpwefter if +pressured.
+Gliftwirp had grown to enjoy his daily chats with the melon vendor. +Popplewick was a kind, determined man. A refugee from the Cinderlands, +his family came to Vay’Nullar following the Artifice Wars when he was +just a boy. He grew up poor, and often relied on the generosity of +others. But eventually he was able to support himself and his small +family. He was proud of the life he had built.
+So Gliftwirp took no pleasure in what came next. Late one night when +Popplewick was on his way home from the market, the assassin slipped a +bag over his head and dragged him into a dark alley. He cinched the bag +tight, cutting off his air. There was a brief struggle before Popplewick +passed out and Gliftwirp lowered him down to the ground. He held him +there, unconscious and not breathing, until he was gone. In only took +but a moment. And then Gliftwirp stood up and left.
+Now at the funeral, the mourners leave one by one. Until only the +widow is left, cradling a small sleeping child to her chest. “Oh, Pepo,” +she whispers to the headstone. “What can I do now?”
+When she leaves, she does not return to the main path. She meanders +slowly as though in a daze toward the back of the graveyard and down the +hill. She steps into the wood. A flash of red follows her at a +distance.
+She kneels on the banks of the forest river and sets the child down +on wide flat rock. It is awake now and looks up at her with solemn eyes. +“I am sorry, made-of-me,” she says to the child. And that is all the +explanation it gets.
+She stands and turns and walks away. The child watches her go.
+When she has been gone for some minutes, Gliftwirp steps out of the +shadows and crouches down beside the child. It looks up and reaches for +him. “Look at you,” he says to the child as he scoops it up. “Who would +throw you away? A perfectly good baby!” He stands and bounces the child. +“A sweet little melon rind is what you are. Ha! Very well. Come, Rind, +we have work to do.”
+The assassin, child in his arms, walks back toward the city.
+~
+In the aftermath, Agent 5 is found down by the docks. They clearly +struggled in death. The assassin blamed him for Popplewick’s death and +the widow’s weakness.
+Down in the sewers, two tiny mittened hands reach up and awkwardly +turn the doorknob to Alex’s hideout. The bolt clears the latch with a +faint click. Two tiny cloth hands struggle against the heavy iron door, +pushing it slowly open, inch by inch. A mechanism clicks inside and +there is a whoosh of air and then a boom as the bunker violently +ignites. The tiny figure is incinerated, and blown back into the sewer +tunnel.
+Gliftwirp steps forward into the light of the blaze and crouches down +by the tiny figure. He picks it up, a tattered and burned bundle of +cloth. “Look, Rind,” he says to the small child standing at his elbow. +“You must always acknowledge and be grateful for those who sacrifice for +you.” He starts to untie and unfold the cloth puppet as he speaks. It +unfurls and smooths out and stitches itself back together under his +touch. Even the burn marks fade, and soon Gliftwirp is once again +holding his red sash.
+“Now, Rind,” he says standing up and taking the child’s hand, +squinting into the fire. “Let’s see what we can salvage here.”
+WHAT DO YOU DO
+Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria
THREADS