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src/notes.md
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@ -73,18 +73,20 @@ todo:
**CALENDAR**
The period of Moonmoon's rotation is 10 days.
This is a week.
Time in Basmentaria is reckoned by the moons: green Selene, dark Moonmoon, and red Lua.
The period of Selene's rotation is 30 days (3 weeks).
The period of Moonmoon's revolution is 10 days.
This is a week, or a *tenday*.
The period of Selene's revolution is 30 days (3 weeks).
This is a month.
The period of Lua's rotation is 360 days (12 months).
The period of Lua's revolution is 360 days (12 months).
This is a year.
Days of the week are divided into godsdays, moondays, earthdays, and 'Tensday'.
Days of the week are divided into godsdays (Nedsday, Nullday, Lianday), moondays (Monday, Selday, Luday), earthdays (Primeday, Agenday, Ginnday), and 'Tensday'.
| Day of Month | Day of Week | Name | Moonmoon | Selene |
| Day of Month | Day of Week | Day Name | Moonmoon | Selene |
|--------------|-------------|----------|-----------------|-----------------|
| 1 | 1 | Nedsday | 1st quarter | 1st quarter |
| 2 | 2 | Nullday | waxing gibbous | 1st quarter |
@ -122,18 +124,33 @@ The year is defined by Lua, the Red Lady's phases:
| # | Name | Lua | Season |
|------|-----------------|-----------------|--------|
| 1 | Unare | 1ST QUARTER | Spring |
| 1 | Unare | 1ST quarter | Spring |
| 2 | Tornare | waxing gibbous | Spring |
| 3 | Ternare | waxing gibbous | Spring |
| 4 | Qatthai | FULL | Summer |
| 5 | Pethai | waning gibbous | Summer |
| 6 | Sestoren | waning gibbous | Summer |
| 7 | Hestur | 3RD QUATER | Autumn |
| 7 | Hestur | 3RD quarter | Autumn |
| 8 | Oktober | waning crescent | Autumn |
| 9 | Nongogl | waning crescent | Autumn |
| 10 | Dekgogl | NEW | Winter |
| 11 | Elfswel | waxing crescent | Winter |
| 12 | Dozwel | waxing crescent | Winter |
There are Seasonal Holidays:
1. Candlemas: Tornare 2. Thaw, start of spring, groundhog day, ewes milk
2. Oistar: Ternare 15. Spring Equinox, Easter, etc
3. Beltine: Pethai 1. May Day, Bonefire Festival, Wickerman
4. Midsomer: Pethai 15. Summer Solstice, long days short nights
5. Loafmas: Oktober 1. First harvest, bread festival
6. Ap Modron: Oktober 15. Autumn equinox, Second Harvest, abundance, preparation for winter
7. Jackoween: Dekgogl 24. Halloween! Witchery and devilry, Third Harvest, Day of the Dead
8. Yuletide: Dozwel 15. Winter solstice, midwinter, saturnalia, holly and ivy
The Common Era (CE) is defined by the end of the Artifice Wars, and the time before it is referred to as Before Common Era (BCE).
It is currently year 1440 of the common era.
</details>

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www/index.html
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@ -357,7 +357,7 @@ Teale</a></li>
<p>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.)</p>
<p>There have been 202 messages posted over 191 days since the first
<p>There have been 202 messages posted over 192 days since the first
post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.05.</p>
<h2 id="about">About</h2>
<p>This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over

504
www/rss.xml
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@ -203,258 +203,6 @@ Agent 5 found the melon vendor dead in a back alley, strangled to death, not imm
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>57</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">57 - Mon, 16 Jan 2023 20:30:44
-0700</guid>
<pubDate>Fri, 20 Jan 2023 14:58:46 -0700</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00057">00057</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>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?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Your courage and concern are admirable, Master Alex.
Caution is likewise advisable.” Inky nods seriously.</p>
<p>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—”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>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..</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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?”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>She stands and turns and walks away. The child watches her
go.</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>The assassin, child in his arms, walks back toward the
city.</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“Now, Rind,” he says standing up and taking the child’s
hand, squinting into the fire. “Let’s see what we can salvage
here.”</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<ul>
<li>The time of the ritual is at hand.</li>
<li>What final preparations do you make before entering
Dreamspace?</li>
</ul>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>54</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
@ -736,6 +484,258 @@ NOTE GDB INDICATES SOME ANOMALY</code></pre>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>57</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
<guid isPermaLink="false">57 - Mon, 16 Jan 2023 20:30:44
-0700</guid>
<pubDate>Fri, 20 Jan 2023 14:58:46 -0700</pubDate>
<description>
<![CDATA[
<h3 id="00057">00057</h3>
<blockquote>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>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?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Your courage and concern are admirable, Master Alex.
Caution is likewise advisable.” Inky nods seriously.</p>
<p>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—”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>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..</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>~</p>
<blockquote>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>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.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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?”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>She stands and turns and walks away. The child watches her
go.</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>The assassin, child in his arms, walks back toward the
city.</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“Now, Rind,” he says standing up and taking the child’s
hand, squinting into the fire. “Let’s see what we can salvage
here.”</p>
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
<ul>
<li>The time of the ritual is at hand.</li>
<li>What final preparations do you make before entering
Dreamspace?</li>
</ul>
]]>
</description>
</item>
<item>
<title>55</title>
<author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>

40
www/spoilers.html
View File

@ -360,7 +360,7 @@ Teale</a></li>
<p>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.)</p>
<p>There have been 202 messages posted over 191 days since the first
<p>There have been 202 messages posted over 192 days since the first
post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.05.</p>
<h2 id="about">About</h2>
<p>This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over
@ -7359,13 +7359,17 @@ checked="" />・゜゜・。。・゜゜_o&lt; QUACK!</li>
rival: the gophers of Retrieval Team 70</li>
</ul>
<p><strong>CALENDAR</strong></p>
<p>The period of Moonmoon’s rotation is 10 days. This is a week.</p>
<p>The period of Selene’s rotation is 30 days (3 weeks). This is a
<p>Time in Basmentaria is reckoned by the moons: green Selene, dark
Moonmoon, and red Lua.</p>
<p>The period of Moonmoon’s revolution is 10 days. This is a week, or a
<em>tenday</em>.</p>
<p>The period of Selene’s revolution is 30 days (3 weeks). This is a
month.</p>
<p>The period of Lua’s rotation is 360 days (12 months). This is a
<p>The period of Lua’s revolution is 360 days (12 months). This is a
year.</p>
<p>Days of the week are divided into godsdays, moondays, earthdays, and
‘Tensday’.</p>
<p>Days of the week are divided into godsdays (Nedsday, Nullday,
Lianday), moondays (Monday, Selday, Luday), earthdays (Primeday,
Agenday, Ginnday), and ‘Tensday’.</p>
<table style="width:97%;">
<colgroup>
<col style="width: 18%" />
@ -7378,7 +7382,7 @@ year.</p>
<tr class="header">
<th style="text-align: left;">Day of Month</th>
<th style="text-align: left;">Day of Week</th>
<th style="text-align: left;">Name</th>
<th style="text-align: left;">Day Name</th>
<th style="text-align: left;">Moonmoon</th>
<th style="text-align: left;">Selene</th>
</tr>
@ -7610,7 +7614,7 @@ year.</p>
<tr class="odd">
<td style="text-align: left;">1</td>
<td style="text-align: left;">Unare</td>
<td style="text-align: left;">1ST QUARTER</td>
<td style="text-align: left;">1ST quarter</td>
<td style="text-align: left;">Spring</td>
</tr>
<tr class="even">
@ -7646,7 +7650,7 @@ year.</p>
<tr class="odd">
<td style="text-align: left;">7</td>
<td style="text-align: left;">Hestur</td>
<td style="text-align: left;">3RD QUATER</td>
<td style="text-align: left;">3RD quarter</td>
<td style="text-align: left;">Autumn</td>
</tr>
<tr class="even">
@ -7681,6 +7685,24 @@ year.</p>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<p>There are Seasonal Holidays:</p>
<ol type="1">
<li>Candlemas: Tornare 2. Thaw, start of spring, groundhog day, ewes
milk</li>
<li>Oistar: Ternare 15. Spring Equinox, Easter, etc</li>
<li>Beltine: Pethai 1. May Day, Bonefire Festival, Wickerman</li>
<li>Midsomer: Pethai 15. Summer Solstice, long days short nights</li>
<li>Loafmas: Oktober 1. First harvest, bread festival</li>
<li>Ap Modron: Oktober 15. Autumn equinox, Second Harvest, abundance,
preparation for winter</li>
<li>Jackoween: Dekgogl 24. Halloween! Witchery and devilry, Third
Harvest, Day of the Dead</li>
<li>Yuletide: Dozwel 15. Winter solstice, midwinter, saturnalia, holly
and ivy</li>
</ol>
<p>The Common Era (CE) is defined by the end of the Artifice Wars, and
the time before it is referred to as Before Common Era (BCE).</p>
<p>It is currently year 1440 of the common era.</p>
</details>
<h2 id="acknowledgements">Acknowledgements</h2>
<p>The setting, plot, and major non-player characters of Basement Quest