40

2022-11-27 02:26:25 -07:00 · 2022-11-27 02:26:25 -07:00 · a8eefbd45e
commit a8eefbd45e
parent b36ee6f21f
6 changed files with 770 additions and 9 deletions
--- a/basement.order
+++ b/basement.order
@ -21,6 +21,7 @@ src/chapter2.md
 src/epistolary/index.md
 src/epistolary/00038.md
 src/epistolary/00039.md
 src/epistolary/00040.md
 src/bestiary/index.md
 src/bestiary/aur.md
 src/bestiary/blahoblin.md
--- a/src/epistolary/00040.md
+++ b/src/epistolary/00040.md
@ -0,0 +1,216 @@
 ---
 title: 00040
 created: Sun, 27 Nov 2022 01:30:42 -0700
 updated: Wed, 14 Dec 2022 05:41:15 -0700
 syndicated: yes
 public: yes
 ---
 ### 00040 {#00040}
 > As Blavin finished his afterthought about handing over the crystal,
 > a yelp was the only warning they heard before a young waiter was
 > suddenly half-sprawled over the hobbit, a tray of ginger beers
 > toppled from his hand and the mugs' contents splashed onto the
 > hobbit's front, though fortunately some of it ended up in a large
 > puddle on the ground rather than on Blavin's person. The waiter had
 > tripped over a bag on the floor on his way to the table two over
 > from theirs and was scrambling to his feet.
 > 
 > "By Nullar's nuts, I— OH SH——!! S-s-sorry, sir! Hold on, l-lemme
 > get— uh—" the waiter looked around frantically. The waitress who
 > had brought their drinks rushed over with some clean dry towels, a
 > few of which she handed to the other waiter, and they both
 > proceeded to wipe and dab at Blavin's damp clothes amid the hapless
 > waiter's babbled apologies. Under the cover of the towels, the
 > waitress patted down the hobbit's vest and replaced the sheaf of
 > papers she had covertly lifted from one of the vest pockets earlier
 > with a beguiling smile and wink. Once the beer on the floor had
 > been cleaned up (the despondent young waiter had offered to pay for
 > Blavin's next two rounds of drinks) and the waiters had moved on to
 > serve other customers, Inky spoke.
 > 
 > "You don't mind that we prefer to deliver it to the Benefactor
 > personally, of course," Inky piped cheerily, referring to the
 > crystal. "The late wizard thought it was prudent to cover our bases
 > since you're a new, untested case manager after all. Besides, a
 > little delayed gratification never hurt anybody, did it?" Inky
 > smiled and raised their drink. "Another toast in tribute to Master
 > Corraidhín! May his courage and buoyant spirit guide us on our next
 > mission!"
 > 
 > ~
 > 
 > When Inky stepped out of the tavern and was a few paces away,
 > someone clattered through the door and called out, "Hey! You forgot
 > your takeout!"
 > 
 > Inky turned in the direction of the voice. It was the waitress who
 > had served their table earlier. She waved a brown paper bag in one
 > hand. Inky gave her an embarrassed smile and said, "Thanks." As the
 > bag changed hands, the waitress mouthed soundlessly, *We'll report
 > any more.* She went back inside, and Inky strolled off into the
 > cool night air with the bag securely tucked away next to a tea
 > pouch and a more pressing question: what blend would go best with
 > fried tofurkey balls?
 > 
 > ~
 > 
 > *(Meanwhile)*
 > 
 > "The BANDit and his associates had gone to the tavern." His
 > assistant looked up from the scrap of paper held under a claw.
 > 
 > Beaker heaved a sigh and rubbed the tips of one wing against his
 > forehead. Surely he had better things to do than play Eye Spy over
 > a bunch of crackpots, such as peer reviewing the latest draft of a
 > paper on the development of Cerylidian hunting techniques for an
 > upcoming issue of *The Ichnition*. But Cio seemed to think
 > something may come of it and unfortunately, she was usually right
 > about troublemakers.
 > 
 > "Tell them to continue tailing from a distance," he replied with a
 > distracted wave, and his assistant left the room.
 > 
 > Anyway, if he had the spare time, he could look at more interesting
 > things, like the data he had collected surrounding the
 > disappearance of the time anomaly that had popped up a few weeks
 > ago. It had happened gradually, and he still wasn't entirely sure
 > what had caused this particular incident, but the signals picked up
 > by his instruments had later faded, just like other ones before it.
 > Still, it was comparatively larger than previous ones, and seemed
 > to have taken slightly longer to dissipate, which meant more data
 > points.
 > 
 > He stole another glance at his Dat repositories before sighing
 > again, swivelling his chair and attention back to the manuscript
 > before him. Work first … then more work.
 ~
 > The party dispersed after the discussion with Blavin. Nobody had
 > wanted to relinquish the crystal to him, personally Alex felt that
 > was prudent, though he still wasn't sure what the point of it all
 > was. The foolish hobbit had blathered on and on about their "mark"
 > tactfully ignoring the real questions. And then the bug, damn it,
 > the bug that chittered on about absolutely nothing for hours. It
 > didn't take Alex too long to figure out why, but he clung to the
 > transmission until it died out hoping he'd be mistaken.
 > 
 > So there he sat, in the attic of his once Uncle, staring bleakly
 > into a cup of dark black coffee. The desk strewn with hastily
 > scratched notes pulled from the bugs feeds. At least the one that
 > had tracked that nosey group had proved somewhat helpful. Turns out
 > this little group has less friends than a drunk who's run up their
 > tab.
 > 
 > Still, there's no point to share any of this information. It's too
 > loose, not definitive enough to action with the group.
 > 
 > Alex begins to pen a message to an fellow operative, in hopes that
 > HQ will pick it up and assign someone to the task.
 > 
 > ```
 > <- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A
 > -> OP 25120 * LOC ESPER
 > 
 > CLEARANCE: SECRET
 > PACKET ENCLOSED. YOUR EYES ONLY.
 > 
 > REQUESTING DETAIL ON BLAVIN
 > EMPLOY OF "THE BENEFACTOR"
 > PERCEPTIVE, AWARE OF BUGS.
 > DO NOT CONTACT, DO NOT DISRUPT
 > EXTREME CAUTION IMPERATIVE.
 > ```
 > 
 > Once penned Alex encrypts it with GPG and sends it along. These
 > channels have worked well for him in the past. If Blavin wants to
 > play games, then games we shall have.
 > 
 > "I hate to do this" Alex mumbles to himself. "Normally I'd trail
 > him myself, but I don't think I have much say in the matter." As it
 > stands the group is dead set on gathering more of these cyrstals,
 > regardless of what the danger may be, and if Alex wants to find his
 > Uncle, they're his best bet in doing so. Blavin doesn't even matter
 > outside of that. But if he can help the group reach their end
 > faster, or force the information out of Blavin, perhaps it can come
 > sooner..
 > 
 > Alex lets out another sigh and glances wistfully around the gloomy
 > attic room. It looked just like he remembered his Uncle's office
 > looking like at the College of Sysorcerery when he had taught
 > there. He always was so particular. Pushing his chair away and
 > grabbing his coffee he wanders to the bookshelf where a large
 > steamer chest sits beside it. The bookshelf is covered in
 > manuscripts, "Practical Common Lisp", "The C Programming Language
 > Vol 2", "RHEL 5 Systems Administration", each one arcane and well
 > worn. And the amount of volumes, sometimes it's a wonder Corraidhin
 > had time to do anything other than read.
 > 
 > "Maybe if I had been a little more studious I'd know how to help
 > you.." as he pulls "A Guide to Backups and All Things Necessary"
 > off of the shelf a knife falls out of the book, and clatters onto
 > the floor glaring malevolently up at Alex.
 Your gondola lift finally rises above the thick layer of clouds. The
 sudden flash of clear blue sky is a revelation after ascending for
 nearly 60 minutes through clouds so thick you couldn't see through
 the foggy windows more than three feet. Above you towers rocky,
 imposing Kelsun Peak. You can just see a tiny portion of the hotel
 roof through a cleft in the rocks. Below you, a frozen turbulent
 ocean of clouds dotted with twisting leaning spires and spiraling
 branching towers, all made out of solid cloudstuff. Handiwork of the
 whimsical and industrious zephynos.
 You spot two or three of them now, leaping and diving playfully
 through the clouds like dolphins, spinning the clouds like yarn, and
 packing them into solid constructs. Their current project resembles a
 garden of outlandish, distorted tubas, french horns, and trombones.
 The small cloud dragons are about 6 - 8 feet long including their
 thick tails. They have wide faces with round lidless eyes, and always
 seem to be smiling. Their heads are topped with multiple pairs of
 filamented stalks. They have six short, stubby arms with long thin
 fingers that they use to knead and pull clouds into solid shapes.
 They build ceaselessly and mostly for the sake of building: they have
 no apparent need for the structures themselves, living as they do
 floating among the clouds. On occasion they have been entreated to
 build on behalf of others. And the rare floating palace or city can
 still be found drifting around Basmentaria as a result. The great
 city of Vay'Neddas---tethered to the ground by great chains to
 Primora in the north and Agendell in the south---is one of their
 greatest enduring works.
 You approach the gondola station at the base of Kelsun Peak, and exit
 your cable car as it slowly rounds the bullwheel. There are two
 toques---presumably meant to be operating the lifts---standing off to
 the side, ignoring their responsibilities, complaining loudly to
 nobody and everybody about being forced to work long hours and being
 unfairly compensated. The tips of their soft, conical heads slump
 forward, calling to mind revolutionaries, or smurfs.
 It is wicked cold as you step out onto the platform and the wind nips
 and bites at you relentlessly.
 At the edge of the platform, foggy white steps made of firm
 cloudstuff climb up around the side of the mountain peak to the
 Palace Runesocesius. Once the conspicuously extravagant residence of
 one of Basmentaria's most powerful politicians, it has since---after
 its owner fell from public favor and was routed out---been gutted and
 transformed into a luxury hotel of equally conspicuous extravagance.
 It continues to be one of the highest inhabitable places on
 Basmentaria.
 Two small toques at the base of the steps rush forward to meet
 you---the floppy tips of their coneheads waggling side to side in
 their exuberance---and introduce themselves as Confidence and Bread,
 your guides. They have been instructed to guide you up to
 Runesocesius where you will take posession of the Ginnarak Crystal.
 WHAT DO YOU DO
 [www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00186.html)
--- a/src/notes.md
+++ b/src/notes.md
@ -1,7 +1,7 @@
 ---
 title: notes
 created: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
-updated: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
+updated: Sun, 27 Nov 2022 02:24:11 -0700
 ---
 ## Spoilers
@ -10,10 +10,11 @@ updated: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 **THREADS**
 - Lady in Red ???
 - Beaker (and Cio) trailing the BANDits?
 - Benefactor wants Crystals to kill a god
 - Golden Iris wants Crystals to make a new god
 - Blavin double agent with Golden Iris
 - Gnu Zealots seek Sitopotnia the Corn Mother (aligned with Golden Iris)
 - Blavin double agent with Golden Iris
 - BATT wants to preserve the timeline
 - Felixe and Corraidhin
--- a/www/index.html
+++ b/www/index.html
@ -248,6 +248,7 @@ of the Were-Hare</a></li>
 <ul>
 <li><a href="#00038" id="toc-00038">00038</a></li>
 <li><a href="#00039" id="toc-00039">00039</a></li>
 <li><a href="#00040" id="toc-00040">00040</a></li>
 </ul></li>
 <li><a href="#bestiary" id="toc-bestiary">Bestiary</a></li>
 <li><a href="#geography" id="toc-geography">Geography</a></li>
@ -257,11 +258,11 @@ of the Were-Hare</a></li>
 </ul>
 </nav>
 <h2 id="stats">Stats</h2>
-<p>Total length: 37919 words / 162 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the
+<p>Total length: 39588 words / 169 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 136 messages posted over 136 days since the first
+<p>There have been 142 messages posted over 154 days since the first
-post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.00.</p>
+post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .92.</p>
 <h2 id="about">About</h2>
 <p>This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over
 email.</p>
@ -4408,6 +4409,175 @@ Lucy’s before Blavin leaves if you want to.</p>
 </ul>
 <p><a
 href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00103.html">www</a></p>
 <h3 id="00040">00040</h3>
 <blockquote>
 <p>As Blavin finished his afterthought about handing over the crystal, a
 yelp was the only warning they heard before a young waiter was suddenly
 half-sprawled over the hobbit, a tray of ginger beers toppled from his
 hand and the mugs’ contents splashed onto the hobbit’s front, though
 fortunately some of it ended up in a large puddle on the ground rather
 than on Blavin’s person. The waiter had tripped over a bag on the floor
 on his way to the table two over from theirs and was scrambling to his
 feet.</p>
 <p>“By Nullar’s nuts, I— OH SH——!! S-s-sorry, sir! Hold on, l-lemme get—
 uh—” the waiter looked around frantically. The waitress who had brought
 their drinks rushed over with some clean dry towels, a few of which she
 handed to the other waiter, and they both proceeded to wipe and dab at
 Blavin’s damp clothes amid the hapless waiter’s babbled apologies. Under
 the cover of the towels, the waitress patted down the hobbit’s vest and
 replaced the sheaf of papers she had covertly lifted from one of the
 vest pockets earlier with a beguiling smile and wink. Once the beer on
 the floor had been cleaned up (the despondent young waiter had offered
 to pay for Blavin’s next two rounds of drinks) and the waiters had moved
 on to serve other customers, Inky spoke.</p>
 <p>“You don’t mind that we prefer to deliver it to the Benefactor
 personally, of course,” Inky piped cheerily, referring to the crystal.
 “The late wizard thought it was prudent to cover our bases since you’re
 a new, untested case manager after all. Besides, a little delayed
 gratification never hurt anybody, did it?” Inky smiled and raised their
 drink. “Another toast in tribute to Master Corraidhín! May his courage
 and buoyant spirit guide us on our next mission!”</p>
 <p>~</p>
 <p>When Inky stepped out of the tavern and was a few paces away, someone
 clattered through the door and called out, “Hey! You forgot your
 takeout!”</p>
 <p>Inky turned in the direction of the voice. It was the waitress who
 had served their table earlier. She waved a brown paper bag in one hand.
 Inky gave her an embarrassed smile and said, “Thanks.” As the bag
 changed hands, the waitress mouthed soundlessly, <em>We’ll report any
 more.</em> She went back inside, and Inky strolled off into the cool
 night air with the bag securely tucked away next to a tea pouch and a
 more pressing question: what blend would go best with fried tofurkey
 balls?</p>
 <p>~</p>
 <p><em>(Meanwhile)</em></p>
 <p>“The BANDit and his associates had gone to the tavern.” His assistant
 looked up from the scrap of paper held under a claw.</p>
 <p>Beaker heaved a sigh and rubbed the tips of one wing against his
 forehead. Surely he had better things to do than play Eye Spy over a
 bunch of crackpots, such as peer reviewing the latest draft of a paper
 on the development of Cerylidian hunting techniques for an upcoming
 issue of <em>The Ichnition</em>. But Cio seemed to think something may
 come of it and unfortunately, she was usually right about
 troublemakers.</p>
 <p>“Tell them to continue tailing from a distance,” he replied with a
 distracted wave, and his assistant left the room.</p>
 <p>Anyway, if he had the spare time, he could look at more interesting
 things, like the data he had collected surrounding the disappearance of
 the time anomaly that had popped up a few weeks ago. It had happened
 gradually, and he still wasn’t entirely sure what had caused this
 particular incident, but the signals picked up by his instruments had
 later faded, just like other ones before it. Still, it was comparatively
 larger than previous ones, and seemed to have taken slightly longer to
 dissipate, which meant more data points.</p>
 <p>He stole another glance at his Dat repositories before sighing again,
 swivelling his chair and attention back to the manuscript before him.
 Work first … then more work.</p>
 </blockquote>
 <p>~</p>
 <blockquote>
 <p>The party dispersed after the discussion with Blavin. Nobody had
 wanted to relinquish the crystal to him, personally Alex felt that was
 prudent, though he still wasn’t sure what the point of it all was. The
 foolish hobbit had blathered on and on about their “mark” tactfully
 ignoring the real questions. And then the bug, damn it, the bug that
 chittered on about absolutely nothing for hours. It didn’t take Alex too
 long to figure out why, but he clung to the transmission until it died
 out hoping he’d be mistaken.</p>
 <p>So there he sat, in the attic of his once Uncle, staring bleakly into
 a cup of dark black coffee. The desk strewn with hastily scratched notes
 pulled from the bugs feeds. At least the one that had tracked that nosey
 group had proved somewhat helpful. Turns out this little group has less
 friends than a drunk who’s run up their tab.</p>
 <p>Still, there’s no point to share any of this information. It’s too
 loose, not definitive enough to action with the group.</p>
 <p>Alex begins to pen a message to an fellow operative, in hopes that HQ
 will pick it up and assign someone to the task.</p>
 <pre><code>&lt;- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A
 -&gt; OP 25120 * LOC ESPER
 CLEARANCE: SECRET
 PACKET ENCLOSED. YOUR EYES ONLY.
 REQUESTING DETAIL ON BLAVIN
 EMPLOY OF &quot;THE BENEFACTOR&quot;
 PERCEPTIVE, AWARE OF BUGS.
 DO NOT CONTACT, DO NOT DISRUPT
 EXTREME CAUTION IMPERATIVE.</code></pre>
 <p>Once penned Alex encrypts it with GPG and sends it along. These
 channels have worked well for him in the past. If Blavin wants to play
 games, then games we shall have.</p>
 <p>“I hate to do this” Alex mumbles to himself. “Normally I’d trail him
 myself, but I don’t think I have much say in the matter.” As it stands
 the group is dead set on gathering more of these cyrstals, regardless of
 what the danger may be, and if Alex wants to find his Uncle, they’re his
 best bet in doing so. Blavin doesn’t even matter outside of that. But if
 he can help the group reach their end faster, or force the information
 out of Blavin, perhaps it can come sooner..</p>
 <p>Alex lets out another sigh and glances wistfully around the gloomy
 attic room. It looked just like he remembered his Uncle’s office looking
 like at the College of Sysorcerery when he had taught there. He always
 was so particular. Pushing his chair away and grabbing his coffee he
 wanders to the bookshelf where a large steamer chest sits beside it. The
 bookshelf is covered in manuscripts, “Practical Common Lisp”, “The C
 Programming Language Vol 2”, “RHEL 5 Systems Administration”, each one
 arcane and well worn. And the amount of volumes, sometimes it’s a wonder
 Corraidhin had time to do anything other than read.</p>
 <p>“Maybe if I had been a little more studious I’d know how to help
 you..” as he pulls “A Guide to Backups and All Things Necessary” off of
 the shelf a knife falls out of the book, and clatters onto the floor
 glaring malevolently up at Alex.</p>
 </blockquote>
 <p>Your gondola lift finally rises above the thick layer of clouds. The
 sudden flash of clear blue sky is a revelation after ascending for
 nearly 60 minutes through clouds so thick you couldn’t see through the
 foggy windows more than three feet. Above you towers rocky, imposing
 Kelsun Peak. You can just see a tiny portion of the hotel roof through a
 cleft in the rocks. Below you, a frozen turbulent ocean of clouds dotted
 with twisting leaning spires and spiraling branching towers, all made
 out of solid cloudstuff. Handiwork of the whimsical and industrious
 zephynos.</p>
 <p>You spot two or three of them now, leaping and diving playfully
 through the clouds like dolphins, spinning the clouds like yarn, and
 packing them into solid constructs. Their current project resembles a
 garden of outlandish, distorted tubas, french horns, and trombones.</p>
 <p>The small cloud dragons are about 6 - 8 feet long including their
 thick tails. They have wide faces with round lidless eyes, and always
 seem to be smiling. Their heads are topped with multiple pairs of
 filamented stalks. They have six short, stubby arms with long thin
 fingers that they use to knead and pull clouds into solid shapes.</p>
 <p>They build ceaselessly and mostly for the sake of building: they have
 no apparent need for the structures themselves, living as they do
 floating among the clouds. On occasion they have been entreated to build
 on behalf of others. And the rare floating palace or city can still be
 found drifting around Basmentaria as a result. The great city of
 Vay’Neddas—tethered to the ground by great chains to Primora in the
 north and Agendell in the south—is one of their greatest enduring
 works.</p>
 <p>You approach the gondola station at the base of Kelsun Peak, and exit
 your cable car as it slowly rounds the bullwheel. There are two
 toques—presumably meant to be operating the lifts—standing off to the
 side, ignoring their responsibilities, complaining loudly to nobody and
 everybody about being forced to work long hours and being unfairly
 compensated. The tips of their soft, conical heads slump forward,
 calling to mind revolutionaries, or smurfs.</p>
 <p>It is wicked cold as you step out onto the platform and the wind nips
 and bites at you relentlessly.</p>
 <p>At the edge of the platform, foggy white steps made of firm
 cloudstuff climb up around the side of the mountain peak to the Palace
 Runesocesius. Once the conspicuously extravagant residence of one of
 Basmentaria’s most powerful politicians, it has since—after its owner
 fell from public favor and was routed out—been gutted and transformed
 into a luxury hotel of equally conspicuous extravagance. It continues to
 be one of the highest inhabitable places on Basmentaria.</p>
 <p>Two small toques at the base of the steps rush forward to meet
 you—the floppy tips of their coneheads waggling side to side in their
 exuberance—and introduce themselves as Confidence and Bread, your
 guides. They have been instructed to guide you up to Runesocesius where
 you will take posession of the Ginnarak Crystal.</p>
 <p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
 <p><a
 href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00186.html">www</a></p>
 <h2 id="bestiary">Bestiary</h2>
 <p>Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria</p>
 <dt>
--- a/www/rss.xml
+++ b/www/rss.xml
@ -211,6 +211,208 @@
        ]]>
      </description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>40</title>
      <author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
      <guid isPermaLink="false">40 - Sun, 27 Nov 2022 01:30:42
 -0700</guid>
      <pubDate>Wed, 14 Dec 2022 05:41:15 -0700</pubDate>
      <description>
        <![CDATA[
          <h3 id="00040">00040</h3>
          <blockquote>
          <p>As Blavin finished his afterthought about handing over the
          crystal, a yelp was the only warning they heard before a young
          waiter was suddenly half-sprawled over the hobbit, a tray of
          ginger beers toppled from his hand and the mugs’ contents
          splashed onto the hobbit’s front, though fortunately some of
          it ended up in a large puddle on the ground rather than on
          Blavin’s person. The waiter had tripped over a bag on the
          floor on his way to the table two over from theirs and was
          scrambling to his feet.</p>
          <p>“By Nullar’s nuts, I— OH SH——!! S-s-sorry, sir! Hold on,
          l-lemme get— uh—” the waiter looked around frantically. The
          waitress who had brought their drinks rushed over with some
          clean dry towels, a few of which she handed to the other
          waiter, and they both proceeded to wipe and dab at Blavin’s
          damp clothes amid the hapless waiter’s babbled apologies.
          Under the cover of the towels, the waitress patted down the
          hobbit’s vest and replaced the sheaf of papers she had
          covertly lifted from one of the vest pockets earlier with a
          beguiling smile and wink. Once the beer on the floor had been
          cleaned up (the despondent young waiter had offered to pay for
          Blavin’s next two rounds of drinks) and the waiters had moved
          on to serve other customers, Inky spoke.</p>
          <p>“You don’t mind that we prefer to deliver it to the
          Benefactor personally, of course,” Inky piped cheerily,
          referring to the crystal. “The late wizard thought it was
          prudent to cover our bases since you’re a new, untested case
          manager after all. Besides, a little delayed gratification
          never hurt anybody, did it?” Inky smiled and raised their
          drink. “Another toast in tribute to Master Corraidhín! May his
          courage and buoyant spirit guide us on our next mission!”</p>
          <p>~</p>
          <p>When Inky stepped out of the tavern and was a few paces
          away, someone clattered through the door and called out, “Hey!
          You forgot your takeout!”</p>
          <p>Inky turned in the direction of the voice. It was the
          waitress who had served their table earlier. She waved a brown
          paper bag in one hand. Inky gave her an embarrassed smile and
          said, “Thanks.” As the bag changed hands, the waitress mouthed
          soundlessly, <em>We’ll report any more.</em> She went back
          inside, and Inky strolled off into the cool night air with the
          bag securely tucked away next to a tea pouch and a more
          pressing question: what blend would go best with fried
          tofurkey balls?</p>
          <p>~</p>
          <p><em>(Meanwhile)</em></p>
          <p>“The BANDit and his associates had gone to the tavern.” His
          assistant looked up from the scrap of paper held under a
          claw.</p>
          <p>Beaker heaved a sigh and rubbed the tips of one wing
          against his forehead. Surely he had better things to do than
          play Eye Spy over a bunch of crackpots, such as peer reviewing
          the latest draft of a paper on the development of Cerylidian
          hunting techniques for an upcoming issue of <em>The
          Ichnition</em>. But Cio seemed to think something may come of
          it and unfortunately, she was usually right about
          troublemakers.</p>
          <p>“Tell them to continue tailing from a distance,” he replied
          with a distracted wave, and his assistant left the room.</p>
          <p>Anyway, if he had the spare time, he could look at more
          interesting things, like the data he had collected surrounding
          the disappearance of the time anomaly that had popped up a few
          weeks ago. It had happened gradually, and he still wasn’t
          entirely sure what had caused this particular incident, but
          the signals picked up by his instruments had later faded, just
          like other ones before it. Still, it was comparatively larger
          than previous ones, and seemed to have taken slightly longer
          to dissipate, which meant more data points.</p>
          <p>He stole another glance at his Dat repositories before
          sighing again, swivelling his chair and attention back to the
          manuscript before him. Work first … then more work.</p>
          </blockquote>
          <p>~</p>
          <blockquote>
          <p>The party dispersed after the discussion with Blavin.
          Nobody had wanted to relinquish the crystal to him, personally
          Alex felt that was prudent, though he still wasn’t sure what
          the point of it all was. The foolish hobbit had blathered on
          and on about their “mark” tactfully ignoring the real
          questions. And then the bug, damn it, the bug that chittered
          on about absolutely nothing for hours. It didn’t take Alex too
          long to figure out why, but he clung to the transmission until
          it died out hoping he’d be mistaken.</p>
          <p>So there he sat, in the attic of his once Uncle, staring
          bleakly into a cup of dark black coffee. The desk strewn with
          hastily scratched notes pulled from the bugs feeds. At least
          the one that had tracked that nosey group had proved somewhat
          helpful. Turns out this little group has less friends than a
          drunk who’s run up their tab.</p>
          <p>Still, there’s no point to share any of this information.
          It’s too loose, not definitive enough to action with the
          group.</p>
          <p>Alex begins to pen a message to an fellow operative, in
          hopes that HQ will pick it up and assign someone to the
          task.</p>
          <pre><code>&lt;- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A
 -&gt; OP 25120 * LOC ESPER
 CLEARANCE: SECRET
 PACKET ENCLOSED. YOUR EYES ONLY.
 REQUESTING DETAIL ON BLAVIN
 EMPLOY OF &quot;THE BENEFACTOR&quot;
 PERCEPTIVE, AWARE OF BUGS.
 DO NOT CONTACT, DO NOT DISRUPT
 EXTREME CAUTION IMPERATIVE.</code></pre>
          <p>Once penned Alex encrypts it with GPG and sends it along.
          These channels have worked well for him in the past. If Blavin
          wants to play games, then games we shall have.</p>
          <p>“I hate to do this” Alex mumbles to himself. “Normally I’d
          trail him myself, but I don’t think I have much say in the
          matter.” As it stands the group is dead set on gathering more
          of these cyrstals, regardless of what the danger may be, and
          if Alex wants to find his Uncle, they’re his best bet in doing
          so. Blavin doesn’t even matter outside of that. But if he can
          help the group reach their end faster, or force the
          information out of Blavin, perhaps it can come sooner..</p>
          <p>Alex lets out another sigh and glances wistfully around the
          gloomy attic room. It looked just like he remembered his
          Uncle’s office looking like at the College of Sysorcerery when
          he had taught there. He always was so particular. Pushing his
          chair away and grabbing his coffee he wanders to the bookshelf
          where a large steamer chest sits beside it. The bookshelf is
          covered in manuscripts, “Practical Common Lisp”, “The C
          Programming Language Vol 2”, “RHEL 5 Systems Administration”,
          each one arcane and well worn. And the amount of volumes,
          sometimes it’s a wonder Corraidhin had time to do anything
          other than read.</p>
          <p>“Maybe if I had been a little more studious I’d know how to
          help you..” as he pulls “A Guide to Backups and All Things
          Necessary” off of the shelf a knife falls out of the book, and
          clatters onto the floor glaring malevolently up at Alex.</p>
          </blockquote>
          <p>Your gondola lift finally rises above the thick layer of
          clouds. The sudden flash of clear blue sky is a revelation
          after ascending for nearly 60 minutes through clouds so thick
          you couldn’t see through the foggy windows more than three
          feet. Above you towers rocky, imposing Kelsun Peak. You can
          just see a tiny portion of the hotel roof through a cleft in
          the rocks. Below you, a frozen turbulent ocean of clouds
          dotted with twisting leaning spires and spiraling branching
          towers, all made out of solid cloudstuff. Handiwork of the
          whimsical and industrious zephynos.</p>
          <p>You spot two or three of them now, leaping and diving
          playfully through the clouds like dolphins, spinning the
          clouds like yarn, and packing them into solid constructs.
          Their current project resembles a garden of outlandish,
          distorted tubas, french horns, and trombones.</p>
          <p>The small cloud dragons are about 6 - 8 feet long including
          their thick tails. They have wide faces with round lidless
          eyes, and always seem to be smiling. Their heads are topped
          with multiple pairs of filamented stalks. They have six short,
          stubby arms with long thin fingers that they use to knead and
          pull clouds into solid shapes.</p>
          <p>They build ceaselessly and mostly for the sake of building:
          they have no apparent need for the structures themselves,
          living as they do floating among the clouds. On occasion they
          have been entreated to build on behalf of others. And the rare
          floating palace or city can still be found drifting around
          Basmentaria as a result. The great city of Vay’Neddas—tethered
          to the ground by great chains to Primora in the north and
          Agendell in the south—is one of their greatest enduring
          works.</p>
          <p>You approach the gondola station at the base of Kelsun
          Peak, and exit your cable car as it slowly rounds the
          bullwheel. There are two toques—presumably meant to be
          operating the lifts—standing off to the side, ignoring their
          responsibilities, complaining loudly to nobody and everybody
          about being forced to work long hours and being unfairly
          compensated. The tips of their soft, conical heads slump
          forward, calling to mind revolutionaries, or smurfs.</p>
          <p>It is wicked cold as you step out onto the platform and the
          wind nips and bites at you relentlessly.</p>
          <p>At the edge of the platform, foggy white steps made of firm
          cloudstuff climb up around the side of the mountain peak to
          the Palace Runesocesius. Once the conspicuously extravagant
          residence of one of Basmentaria’s most powerful politicians,
          it has since—after its owner fell from public favor and was
          routed out—been gutted and transformed into a luxury hotel of
          equally conspicuous extravagance. It continues to be one of
          the highest inhabitable places on Basmentaria.</p>
          <p>Two small toques at the base of the steps rush forward to
          meet you—the floppy tips of their coneheads waggling side to
          side in their exuberance—and introduce themselves as
          Confidence and Bread, your guides. They have been instructed
          to guide you up to Runesocesius where you will take posession
          of the Ginnarak Crystal.</p>
          <p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
          <p><a
          href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00186.html">www</a></p>
        ]]>
      </description>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>38</title>
      <author>dozens@tilde.team (dozens)</author>
--- a/www/spoilers.html
+++ b/www/spoilers.html
@ -248,6 +248,7 @@ of the Were-Hare</a></li>
 <ul>
 <li><a href="#00038" id="toc-00038">00038</a></li>
 <li><a href="#00039" id="toc-00039">00039</a></li>
 <li><a href="#00040" id="toc-00040">00040</a></li>
 </ul></li>
 <li><a href="#bestiary" id="toc-bestiary">Bestiary</a></li>
 <li><a href="#geography" id="toc-geography">Geography</a></li>
@ -260,11 +261,11 @@ id="toc-acknowledgements">Acknowledgements</a></li>
 </ul>
 </nav>
 <h2 id="stats">Stats</h2>
-<p>Total length: 37919 words / 162 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the
+<p>Total length: 39588 words / 169 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 136 messages posted over 136 days since the first
+<p>There have been 142 messages posted over 154 days since the first
-post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.00.</p>
+post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .92.</p>
 <h2 id="about">About</h2>
 <p>This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over
 email.</p>
@ -4411,6 +4412,175 @@ Lucy’s before Blavin leaves if you want to.</p>
 </ul>
 <p><a
 href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00103.html">www</a></p>
 <h3 id="00040">00040</h3>
 <blockquote>
 <p>As Blavin finished his afterthought about handing over the crystal, a
 yelp was the only warning they heard before a young waiter was suddenly
 half-sprawled over the hobbit, a tray of ginger beers toppled from his
 hand and the mugs’ contents splashed onto the hobbit’s front, though
 fortunately some of it ended up in a large puddle on the ground rather
 than on Blavin’s person. The waiter had tripped over a bag on the floor
 on his way to the table two over from theirs and was scrambling to his
 feet.</p>
 <p>“By Nullar’s nuts, I— OH SH——!! S-s-sorry, sir! Hold on, l-lemme get—
 uh—” the waiter looked around frantically. The waitress who had brought
 their drinks rushed over with some clean dry towels, a few of which she
 handed to the other waiter, and they both proceeded to wipe and dab at
 Blavin’s damp clothes amid the hapless waiter’s babbled apologies. Under
 the cover of the towels, the waitress patted down the hobbit’s vest and
 replaced the sheaf of papers she had covertly lifted from one of the
 vest pockets earlier with a beguiling smile and wink. Once the beer on
 the floor had been cleaned up (the despondent young waiter had offered
 to pay for Blavin’s next two rounds of drinks) and the waiters had moved
 on to serve other customers, Inky spoke.</p>
 <p>“You don’t mind that we prefer to deliver it to the Benefactor
 personally, of course,” Inky piped cheerily, referring to the crystal.
 “The late wizard thought it was prudent to cover our bases since you’re
 a new, untested case manager after all. Besides, a little delayed
 gratification never hurt anybody, did it?” Inky smiled and raised their
 drink. “Another toast in tribute to Master Corraidhín! May his courage
 and buoyant spirit guide us on our next mission!”</p>
 <p>~</p>
 <p>When Inky stepped out of the tavern and was a few paces away, someone
 clattered through the door and called out, “Hey! You forgot your
 takeout!”</p>
 <p>Inky turned in the direction of the voice. It was the waitress who
 had served their table earlier. She waved a brown paper bag in one hand.
 Inky gave her an embarrassed smile and said, “Thanks.” As the bag
 changed hands, the waitress mouthed soundlessly, <em>We’ll report any
 more.</em> She went back inside, and Inky strolled off into the cool
 night air with the bag securely tucked away next to a tea pouch and a
 more pressing question: what blend would go best with fried tofurkey
 balls?</p>
 <p>~</p>
 <p><em>(Meanwhile)</em></p>
 <p>“The BANDit and his associates had gone to the tavern.” His assistant
 looked up from the scrap of paper held under a claw.</p>
 <p>Beaker heaved a sigh and rubbed the tips of one wing against his
 forehead. Surely he had better things to do than play Eye Spy over a
 bunch of crackpots, such as peer reviewing the latest draft of a paper
 on the development of Cerylidian hunting techniques for an upcoming
 issue of <em>The Ichnition</em>. But Cio seemed to think something may
 come of it and unfortunately, she was usually right about
 troublemakers.</p>
 <p>“Tell them to continue tailing from a distance,” he replied with a
 distracted wave, and his assistant left the room.</p>
 <p>Anyway, if he had the spare time, he could look at more interesting
 things, like the data he had collected surrounding the disappearance of
 the time anomaly that had popped up a few weeks ago. It had happened
 gradually, and he still wasn’t entirely sure what had caused this
 particular incident, but the signals picked up by his instruments had
 later faded, just like other ones before it. Still, it was comparatively
 larger than previous ones, and seemed to have taken slightly longer to
 dissipate, which meant more data points.</p>
 <p>He stole another glance at his Dat repositories before sighing again,
 swivelling his chair and attention back to the manuscript before him.
 Work first … then more work.</p>
 </blockquote>
 <p>~</p>
 <blockquote>
 <p>The party dispersed after the discussion with Blavin. Nobody had
 wanted to relinquish the crystal to him, personally Alex felt that was
 prudent, though he still wasn’t sure what the point of it all was. The
 foolish hobbit had blathered on and on about their “mark” tactfully
 ignoring the real questions. And then the bug, damn it, the bug that
 chittered on about absolutely nothing for hours. It didn’t take Alex too
 long to figure out why, but he clung to the transmission until it died
 out hoping he’d be mistaken.</p>
 <p>So there he sat, in the attic of his once Uncle, staring bleakly into
 a cup of dark black coffee. The desk strewn with hastily scratched notes
 pulled from the bugs feeds. At least the one that had tracked that nosey
 group had proved somewhat helpful. Turns out this little group has less
 friends than a drunk who’s run up their tab.</p>
 <p>Still, there’s no point to share any of this information. It’s too
 loose, not definitive enough to action with the group.</p>
 <p>Alex begins to pen a message to an fellow operative, in hopes that HQ
 will pick it up and assign someone to the task.</p>
 <pre><code>&lt;- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A
 -&gt; OP 25120 * LOC ESPER
 CLEARANCE: SECRET
 PACKET ENCLOSED. YOUR EYES ONLY.
 REQUESTING DETAIL ON BLAVIN
 EMPLOY OF &quot;THE BENEFACTOR&quot;
 PERCEPTIVE, AWARE OF BUGS.
 DO NOT CONTACT, DO NOT DISRUPT
 EXTREME CAUTION IMPERATIVE.</code></pre>
 <p>Once penned Alex encrypts it with GPG and sends it along. These
 channels have worked well for him in the past. If Blavin wants to play
 games, then games we shall have.</p>
 <p>“I hate to do this” Alex mumbles to himself. “Normally I’d trail him
 myself, but I don’t think I have much say in the matter.” As it stands
 the group is dead set on gathering more of these cyrstals, regardless of
 what the danger may be, and if Alex wants to find his Uncle, they’re his
 best bet in doing so. Blavin doesn’t even matter outside of that. But if
 he can help the group reach their end faster, or force the information
 out of Blavin, perhaps it can come sooner..</p>
 <p>Alex lets out another sigh and glances wistfully around the gloomy
 attic room. It looked just like he remembered his Uncle’s office looking
 like at the College of Sysorcerery when he had taught there. He always
 was so particular. Pushing his chair away and grabbing his coffee he
 wanders to the bookshelf where a large steamer chest sits beside it. The
 bookshelf is covered in manuscripts, “Practical Common Lisp”, “The C
 Programming Language Vol 2”, “RHEL 5 Systems Administration”, each one
 arcane and well worn. And the amount of volumes, sometimes it’s a wonder
 Corraidhin had time to do anything other than read.</p>
 <p>“Maybe if I had been a little more studious I’d know how to help
 you..” as he pulls “A Guide to Backups and All Things Necessary” off of
 the shelf a knife falls out of the book, and clatters onto the floor
 glaring malevolently up at Alex.</p>
 </blockquote>
 <p>Your gondola lift finally rises above the thick layer of clouds. The
 sudden flash of clear blue sky is a revelation after ascending for
 nearly 60 minutes through clouds so thick you couldn’t see through the
 foggy windows more than three feet. Above you towers rocky, imposing
 Kelsun Peak. You can just see a tiny portion of the hotel roof through a
 cleft in the rocks. Below you, a frozen turbulent ocean of clouds dotted
 with twisting leaning spires and spiraling branching towers, all made
 out of solid cloudstuff. Handiwork of the whimsical and industrious
 zephynos.</p>
 <p>You spot two or three of them now, leaping and diving playfully
 through the clouds like dolphins, spinning the clouds like yarn, and
 packing them into solid constructs. Their current project resembles a
 garden of outlandish, distorted tubas, french horns, and trombones.</p>
 <p>The small cloud dragons are about 6 - 8 feet long including their
 thick tails. They have wide faces with round lidless eyes, and always
 seem to be smiling. Their heads are topped with multiple pairs of
 filamented stalks. They have six short, stubby arms with long thin
 fingers that they use to knead and pull clouds into solid shapes.</p>
 <p>They build ceaselessly and mostly for the sake of building: they have
 no apparent need for the structures themselves, living as they do
 floating among the clouds. On occasion they have been entreated to build
 on behalf of others. And the rare floating palace or city can still be
 found drifting around Basmentaria as a result. The great city of
 Vay’Neddas—tethered to the ground by great chains to Primora in the
 north and Agendell in the south—is one of their greatest enduring
 works.</p>
 <p>You approach the gondola station at the base of Kelsun Peak, and exit
 your cable car as it slowly rounds the bullwheel. There are two
 toques—presumably meant to be operating the lifts—standing off to the
 side, ignoring their responsibilities, complaining loudly to nobody and
 everybody about being forced to work long hours and being unfairly
 compensated. The tips of their soft, conical heads slump forward,
 calling to mind revolutionaries, or smurfs.</p>
 <p>It is wicked cold as you step out onto the platform and the wind nips
 and bites at you relentlessly.</p>
 <p>At the edge of the platform, foggy white steps made of firm
 cloudstuff climb up around the side of the mountain peak to the Palace
 Runesocesius. Once the conspicuously extravagant residence of one of
 Basmentaria’s most powerful politicians, it has since—after its owner
 fell from public favor and was routed out—been gutted and transformed
 into a luxury hotel of equally conspicuous extravagance. It continues to
 be one of the highest inhabitable places on Basmentaria.</p>
 <p>Two small toques at the base of the steps rush forward to meet
 you—the floppy tips of their coneheads waggling side to side in their
 exuberance—and introduce themselves as Confidence and Bread, your
 guides. They have been instructed to guide you up to Runesocesius where
 you will take posession of the Ginnarak Crystal.</p>
 <p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
 <p><a
 href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00186.html">www</a></p>
 <h2 id="bestiary">Bestiary</h2>
 <p>Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria</p>
 <dt>
@ -4784,11 +4954,12 @@ embers.</p>
 <p><strong>THREADS</strong></p>
 <ul>
 <li>Lady in Red ???</li>
 <li>Beaker (and Cio) trailing the BANDits?</li>
 <li>Benefactor wants Crystals to kill a god</li>
 <li>Golden Iris wants Crystals to make a new god</li>
 <li>Blavin double agent with Golden Iris</li>
 <li>Gnu Zealots seek Sitopotnia the Corn Mother (aligned with Golden
 Iris)</li>
 <li>Blavin double agent with Golden Iris</li>
 <li>BATT wants to preserve the timeline</li>
 <li>Felixe and Corraidhin</li>
 </ul>