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src/chapter1.md
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src/chapter2.md
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src/chapter3.md
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src/chapter4.md
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src/epistolary/index.md
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src/epistolary/00054.md
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src/epistolary/00055.md
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src/epistolary/00056.md
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src/epistolary/00057.md
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src/epistolary/00058.md
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src/epistolary/00059.md
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src/epistolary/00060.md
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src/epistolary/00061.md
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src/epistolary/00062.md
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src/epistolary/00063.md
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src/epistolary/00064.md
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src/epistolary/00065.md
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src/epistolary/00066.md
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src/epistolary/00067.md
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src/epistolary/00068.md
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src/epistolary/00069.md
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src/epistolary/00070.md
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src/epistolary/00071.md
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src/epistolary/00072.md
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src/epistolary/00074.md
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src/notes.md
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src/acknowledgements.md
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src/afterword.md
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src/characters/index.md
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src/characters/alex.md
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src/characters/corraidhin.md
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@ -1,14 +0,0 @@
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---
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title: afterword
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created: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 13:51:03 -0600
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updated: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 13:51:03 -0600
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public: yes
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---
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## Afterword
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I don't know what I'm going to put here, but I didn't want this document to just abruptly end. So here you go: a kind farewell and a more gentle conclusion.
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Thanks for reading.
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dozens@tilde.team
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File diff suppressed because it is too large
Load Diff
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@ -1,300 +0,0 @@
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---
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title: 00054
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created: Tue, 03 Jan 2023 16:12:08 -0700
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updated: Wed, 04 Jan 2023 08:18:44 -0700
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public: yes
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syndicated: yes
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---
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### 00054 {#00054}
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> Once back in the Milk Bar, with the airship safely anchored to the
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> roof of the building, Alex finds himself amongst the old belongings
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> of his former uncle.
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>
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> *sigh* "Best get a request to HQ for this airship, maybe they'll
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> let us operate it for a bit, if not I suppose we have to impound
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> it.."
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>
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> ```
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> <- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A
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> -> OP 25120 * LOC ESPER
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>
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> CLEARANCE: INFORMATIONAL
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> REQUEST ENCLOSED.
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>
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> REQUESTING PERMISSION TO IMPOUND OR OPERATE.
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> ONE CYBERPLASM AIRSHIP "The Rusty Maiden"
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> ```
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>
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> "There's also the matter of this little hemogoblin.." Alex mutters
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> to himself while said hemogoblin happily dances around the room,
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> dripping little pools of blood hither and tither.
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>
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> ```
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> <- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A
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> -> OP 41154 * LOC ESPER
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>
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> CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET
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> REQUEST ENCLOSED
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> PACKET ENCLOSED
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>
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> REQUESTING ANALYSIS
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> ONE GDB @gdb-readout.dat
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> TWO BLOOD @blood-soaked-handkerchief
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> NOTE GDB INDICATES SOME ANOMALY
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> ```
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>
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> "Hey little guy, lets go get an empanade. Inky says they're
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> divine." Alex says as he scoops up the little goblin and gently
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> carries him downstairs."
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>
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> Striding into Enriques kitchen, and availing himself to the
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> empanadas, ignoring an indignant Enrique's protests that these were
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> for paying customers until a small bag of coins is tossed careless
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> over one shoulder. Alex stride through the kitchen and then out and
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> away into the garden to enjoy their pilfered treats.
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>
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> "I suppose this is more interesting than being on the force at
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> times"
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~
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> Inky stepped into the toques' cabin below deck with a tray of
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> turmeric ginger tea and lavender biscuits. After checking on
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> Bread's bandages and offering the toque reclined on the berth the
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> last bag of mango croutons — or at least the last one for the next
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> two hours — Inky perched on a wooden barrel across from where
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> Confidence sat on a creaking old chair next to the bunk and spoke.
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> "We'll be landing in about an hour and getting Bread to a medical
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> facility. You can stay with him while he heals and rest up."
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>
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> They paused to take a long sip from their cup, as if the liquid was
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> being used to summon their next words. "On behalf of myself and the
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> party, I apologise for the … disruption, and for what had befallen
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> the hotelier. As you may have already noticed, we're a fair
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> distance away from the Peak and will be arriving in Vay'Nullar
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> soon. This airship was taken over from the cyberplasms in the
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> course of getting the crystal out and the injured to a safe
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> location, and her new captain could hardly fly it back straight
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> into the pirates' hands now.
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>
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> What we propose is this: you and Bread may take as long as you need
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> to recover. We can arrange for lodgings and new posts in the city.
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> One of our party runs a Milk Market that could certainly use some
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> hired help, and a garden in the back that would benefit from more
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> attention. Pay will be double your current salary at the hotel.
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> Master Alex may also recruit you for other tasks. You don't need to
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> have an answer just yet — think on it for a bit while you rest and
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> let us know. Afterwards, if you find that you still wish to return
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> to Kelsun Peak, we will pay for travel."
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>
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> Inky winked at Bread conspiratorially. "You may be interested to
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> know there is a bakery on the Milk Market's first floor. If you
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> like the look of the place, perhaps we can convince the chef to
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> take on an assistant."
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>
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> ~
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>
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> Tess watched her adviser from her position on one end of the plush
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> chaise lounge in her office, who returned her stare impassively as
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> they sat in the adjoining armchair to her right. The ornate coffee
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> table before them had been laid out for tea, but the other cup
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> remained untouched, which was in itself unusual. Ink rarely turned
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> down tea when it was offered, which likely meant they were
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> preoccupied with something they were unwilling to discuss. This had
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> been happening more frequently since their plans to intercept the
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> Ginnarak Crystals, which was a little concerning, but she knew it
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> would be no use to question them directly. The missive she had
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> received this time through Piskin's people was brief, almost
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> annoyingly so, but they had returned earlier than expected with the
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> articles that production had requested, which had fortunately made
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> up for lost time from the previous delays.
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>
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> With this in mind, she settled on a lighter note as she picked up
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> her own teacup. "Salvia passed on the items to the production team.
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> Thank you for picking them up from the Runesocesius. I would send
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> my regular couriers but they are tied up with another event. One of
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> them had to care for their sick child and couldn't leave the city.
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> As usual, time and discretion are of the essence."
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>
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> When her adviser only nodded, she continued. "How is he? He
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> probably insisted on bringing the manuscripts out for you himself.
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> The man is cautious with valuables."
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>
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> "Quite dead but managing, or so I heard." Ink intoned drily.
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>
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> Tess caught on immediately. "Didn't you meet with him? The message
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> only mentioned the items had been obtained. Did something happen?"
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>
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> The imp shrugged. "We met, I delivered the letter and collected the
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> items. We didn't get a chance to talk."
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>
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> The hotel was slowly but steadily attracting visitors again,
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> especially after their last play had prominently featured the
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> Runesocesius Library as a research partner in the programme
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> credits, but Tess didn't think the hotelier was so busy as to
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> entrust this task to one of his underlings. The man was proud of
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> the first editions the library had amassed, and the notebooks of
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> Lucidieau that the playwright sought as a reference were no doubt
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> counted among the treasures, even if only an expensive commissioned
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> facsimile was permitted out of the library. Something had happened,
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> she was sure, but decided not to press further for the moment.
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>
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> "And the other matter?" she asked.
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>
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> "Someone already knew the crystal was at the hotel and retained a
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> crew of cyberplasmic pirates to storm the place." Ink replied
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> flatly. "And yes, your acquaintance is very much dead, shot by the
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> crew leader in the scuffle. As the rumour rags have it, his ghost
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> is now overseeing the building repairs."
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>
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> Tess was about to admonish the imp gently for the tasteless jest
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> when there was a knock at the door. At her response, the door
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> opened and her secretary entered with a box of pastries and two
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> sets of tableware, which she placed on the coffee table before
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> leaving and closing the door behind her.
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>
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> Noticing Ink's look of recognition, Tess smiled and ventured, "This
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> is the second time is as many months you awarded that empanada
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> place a glowing review in *The Tiny Toaster*. I can count the
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> ratings higher than a 10 you've ever given on one hand — of course
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> I had to try it. Why don't you have some as well?"
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>
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> Ink blinked. "I didn't write the latest review."
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>
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> Tess shot them an accusing mock-glare as she lifted a puffy golden
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> brown pastry onto a plate. "It has your inkprints all over it."
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>
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> "I don't know what you mean. Surely I'm allowed to treat a
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> colleague to lunch, and they are free to express their satisfaction
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> with a meal openly if they wish," Ink replied smoothly.
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>
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> Tess rolled her eyes. "There's a name for that. It's called
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> bribery."
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>
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> Ink smiled faintly. "Just so. However, the selection speaks for
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> itself."
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>
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> "Oh, absolutely! These mini ambrose apple empanadas are wonderful.
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> In fact," Tess prodded the open end of the pastry with her fork,
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> where a light yellow filling was visible, "they remind me a little
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> of the very crispy tortelli *someone* made several years ago just
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> for the opening reception of *The Two Genteelkin of Virdantha*."
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>
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> "Any resemblance is coincidental. The chef is very capable." Ink
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> said evenly.
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>
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> Tess sighed and returned her plate to the table. "We've talked
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> about this before, Ink. You don't have to hole up in some poor
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> scrub's excuse for a kitchen in a closet. If you need more room
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> downstairs then expand it. Just tell Salvia and she'll take care of
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> it."
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>
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> Ink lowered their gaze to the teacups. "I appreciate the offer, but
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> the answer is the same. There will be no rest until the crystals
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> are secured."
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Some time passes.
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The hemogoblin turns out to be a fine housemate and less of a problem
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than you thought it would be. Be it because its not in the excitement
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of battle onboard a pirate ship, or be it because it is maturing
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slightly, it seems in better control of its blood sacs. Barring a few
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small accidents, it doesn't make much of a mess. It has found and
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claimed as its own a few unused blankets, and has made a little
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burrow nest in an out of the way corner behind the furniture.
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Bread makes a full recovery and in fact is doing better than ever
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before. The blood goblin stays by their side during the first hours
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and days and keeps them pumped full of clean, synthetic blood.
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Afterwards the toque is flushed a healthy pink and has new vigor.
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Enrique takes them under his tutelage. And Bread ends up making a
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fine baker's apprentice. Dough seems to rise more and quicker after
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he kneads it. "The lad has solar hands," Enrique boasts of his new
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protegee.
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Confidence becomes enthralled with the semi-sentient Wandering
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Bazaar. The thirteen story building moves with glacial speed up and
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down the streets, vendors and stalls and shoppers following in its
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wake. But then also it will disappear in the blink of an eye only to
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reappear in a totally different part of the area known as the
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Wandering Bazaar District. Each floor of the tall, narrow tower is
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occupied entirely by a single shop. But which shop it is seems to
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vary from day to day. One day the seventh level will be occupied by
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Fedik's Butcher shop. And the next, Lario's Bakery. It might be days
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or weeks before one can once again buy hotlinks from Fedik's. Where
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the shops go when they're not here is one of Basmentaria's great
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mysteries.
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The toque studies the Bazaar's movements and are able to predict its
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route with more and more accuracy. They become a highly sought out
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guide. Tourists and visitors trust them to take them to the very spot
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the Bazaar will appear that day. Residents appreciate the heads up
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and not getting trapped in their houses when the Bazaar wedges its
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way into their narrow residential streets, blocking their front
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doors. And owners of traditional, less ambulatory shops are able to
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plan ahead for the crowds that will appear on "Bazaar Day".
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~
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Members of the Retrieval Team who sleep in Milk Market HQ start
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having dreams of the same mysterious figure. Of course at first
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nobody knows their dreams are shared by the others. Not until they
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become more frequent, more regular. By the time the figure has
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visited you every night for nearly a week, somebody speaks up and you
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realize the coincidence.
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The figure is clad in voluminous robes of deep purple. Long,
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straight, blonde hair falls around their shoulders. Their soft
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features are boyish and womanly. They wear a golden circlet on their
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head and a golden eye in the middle of their forehead. Their passive,
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neutral face betrays no emotion the entire time.
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The dream is always the same. They reach out to you with one hand and
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turn their palm up. And because of dream logic, in the palm of their
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hand you can hear the jingling of coins, mirthful laughter, and
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hushed stories told around a campfire. They curl their fingers into a
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loose first and the sounds stop. They spread their arms wide and in
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the folds of their robes you can see three siblings fighting,
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squabbling over a broken loom.
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Then you're standing next to them, and the two of you watch three
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friends, Snake, Owl, and Dolphin. Owl tells Snake that he is tired of
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flying and hooting, and doesn't want to be an owl any more, he wants
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to be flowers. And Snake laughs and tells him that he is Owl, and an
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owl he must remain. And she leaves him to go eat rodents and bake in
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the sun. So Owl tells Dolphin that he is tired of flying and hooting,
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and doesn't want to be an owl any more, he wants to be flowers.
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Dolphin doesn't want to help Owl, because if he is flowers, they
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won't be able to be together any longer. But Dolphin finally agrees
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to help even though they don't want to, because Dolphin loves Owl.
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With all their strength, they create a great waterspout that will
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turn Owl into flowers. But the waterspout is too strong, and Dolphin
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is too weak to control it. It sprays Owl but does not turn him into
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flowers. Owl's wing is broken and he falls to the ground in a heap of
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feathers. The waterspout shakes a great boulder from the earth and
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traps Snake under it. And Dolphin sinks to the bottom of the sea.
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And then you wake up.
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~
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Later you find a letter in the common area of Milk Market HQ. It is
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not addressed to anybody. When you open it up, it reads:
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> Time is running out, Retrieval Team 43. Things are starting to draw
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> to a close. We cannot delay our meeting any longer if we both are
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> to achieve our goals. We have information that you are looking for.
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> Meet us at the Harpoon Club next Selday. We will wear the sign.
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The letter is signed with a white iris and golden apple.
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||||
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Anyone in Vay'Nullar would be able to tell you that the Harpoon Club
|
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is a game room and fine dining club, and one of the rotating tenants
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of the Wandering Bazaar. But Confidence would tell you, were you to
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ask them, that the club won't be there next Selday. (When the Bazaar
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will appear at East and Lowland.) It is in fact not scheduled to
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appear until a week and a half after next Selday, on Third Tensday.
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(When the Bazaar will appear at Cathedral and Pine.)
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WHAT DO YOU DO
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@ -1,318 +0,0 @@
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---
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title: 00055
|
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created: Thu, 05 Jan 2023 08:21:34 -0700
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updated: Thu, 05 Jan 2023 08:21:34 -0700
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public: yes
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syndicated: yes
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---
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### 00055 {#00055}
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> The nibs had disappeared.
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>
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> Inky had spotted the small ceramic and wicker teapot among a long
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> row of boxes and bowls at the antique shop on the thirteenth floor
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> of the Wandering Bazaar while looking for a Near-weightless
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||||
> Verifying Matter enclosure (NVMe) to their Handy Duffer Discette as
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> a primary storage. The witch shopkeeper, Agate, had helpfully
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> mentioned the teapot could be used to steep very acidic or alkaline
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||||
> solutions, as well as distil solubles. The box it was subsequently
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> packed in did not include instructions on activating the
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||||
> precipitation feature. With the shop not returning for another week
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> by Confidence's reckoning, Inky had used the teapot in the meantime
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> to rinse off any impurities from an old set of nibs — the very
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> first functional set they had made as an apprentice inkling —
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> except the nibs were nowhere to be found when they poured out the
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> citronella solution and removed the lid. Inky supposed it was to be
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> expected — some witches liked to go on about equal payment for
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> wishes, as if it were as easy as reading off a price tag, and it
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> was difficult to stay irritated at a cute teapot for long. Inky
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> wrote it off as a gift for what would hopefully thereafter be a
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> cutely functional teapot. The shop had a no-refunds policy.
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>
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> Then came the dream. At first Inky had attributed them to reading
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> the book on the mythology of The Trine that they had slipped out of
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> the Runesocesius Library, along with an obscure cactus
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> leather-bound manuscript containing first-hand accounts of the
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> Artifice Wars. When the dream repeated itself on the third night,
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> Inky suspected it had something to do with the crystals under the
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||||
> Milk Market's roof. While not horrifically bloody in the way Master
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||||
> Corraidhín's description of the vision he had from the first
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||||
> crystal had been, it was haplessly boring when lucid intervention
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> didn't seem to have any effect. It ran on like a low-budget B-Grade
|
||||
> play that had only three scenes with a few props each. By the
|
||||
> fourth night, the dream had become worse than a nib-nibbling teapot
|
||||
> that they stayed up entire nights for the rest of that week while
|
||||
> they were camping at the Milk Market.
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||||
>
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||||
> It was mostly an excuse to drop into the kitchens downstairs —
|
||||
> which they could now enter on the pretext of visiting Bread to
|
||||
> observe the apprentice's progress — in the early morning hours and
|
||||
> push new tea blends onto its unfortunate occupants. Most of the
|
||||
> three dozen or so infusions had been full of fruits and spices, six
|
||||
> of which would go well with items on the empanada shop's current
|
||||
> menu. A handful were medicinal after procuring a herb illustrated
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||||
> on one moth-bitten page snatched on the hotel steps back on the
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||||
> Peak. A few others were teas in the loosest sense of the word.
|
||||
> These were as tasteless and colourless as tap water, only the scent
|
||||
> offering a faint clue as to their ingredients. They had other
|
||||
> applications, least of which was in a prank on one empanada chef.
|
||||
> (Inky left him a box of zephyl tea — another Kelsun Peak speciality
|
||||
> besides mulled wine — before he could too riled up, though.)
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The note left at the Milk Market was the black cherry atop the
|
||||
> hassle cake. Confidence was fairly sure that the fine establishment
|
||||
> mentioned in the note wouldn't appear on the day indicated.
|
||||
> Couldn't "Mother" have chosen to meet somewhere a little more
|
||||
> convenient? So it was that despite the shop having a no-refunds
|
||||
> policy, or because of it, Inky found themselves returning to the
|
||||
> antique shop inside the Wandering Bazaar a week later looking for
|
||||
> another item. "Do you sell flight vessels that could transport
|
||||
> people to and from specific places … such as the Harpoon Club?"
|
||||
> they asked the witch.
|
||||
|
||||
You and the witch go back and forth a few times before she realizes
|
||||
that you want to visit a place where it is when it isn't there.
|
||||
|
||||
"Transdimensional extratemporal colocation?" Agate claps her hands in
|
||||
delight. "This is going to be fun! A witchy problem wants a witchy
|
||||
solution. That's what my Auntie Tenfingers always said!"
|
||||
|
||||
"Why bother with flying contraptions when you yourself are a
|
||||
perfectly adequate vessel? I'm going to prescribe you a dream
|
||||
ritual," she says, scribbling in a notebook. "It's complex. But only
|
||||
because it's a lot of steps. And the timing is kind of particular in
|
||||
a couple places. But if you follow the directions, you shouldn't have
|
||||
any trouble." She rips the page out of the notebook and hands it you.
|
||||
|
||||
"Basically, you'll enter a host's dreams, and then delve into the
|
||||
Collective Unconsciousness. From there you should be able to find the
|
||||
Wandering Bazaar's pocket dimension. Of course you'll need to find a
|
||||
guide to take you there. You'll have to find one in the Sea of
|
||||
Dreams."
|
||||
|
||||
"And you'll need this!" She ducks behind the counter and reappears
|
||||
with a smoke-gray box bound with thick black ribbon. It's about as
|
||||
long as her forearm. She unwraps the box and opens it and pulls out a
|
||||
thick, round candle. It is an unhealthy, sickening translucent
|
||||
yellow. In the base of the candle is a large, blackened, withered,
|
||||
and shriveled hand. It is within and without the candle. As though it
|
||||
is grasping the base of the candle, but also like it has been molded
|
||||
into the candle on purpose. As though the hand is imprisoned in the
|
||||
wax. You can just make out a hazy small round object in the center of
|
||||
the candle through the wax. A large nut or marble. The hand looks
|
||||
like it is reaching for it. The candle has been burned down a fair
|
||||
bit. The wick is low and trimmed, and the edges are black and warped
|
||||
where the fatty wax has melted and hardened. You guess there's only
|
||||
about two-thirds left of the candle.
|
||||
|
||||
The witch measures down from the top of the candle with a length of
|
||||
string and bores a small hole in its side. She wedges a large nail
|
||||
into the hole, leaving half of it jutting out. "A crude clock," she
|
||||
winks at you. "Place the candle on a hard metal plate. When it burns
|
||||
down enough for the wax here to soften, the nail will fall out and
|
||||
strike the plate and wake you up."
|
||||
|
||||
She pushes it across the counter toward you and frowns. "Eh, should
|
||||
be okay," she shrugs. "But if at any point it looks like the base
|
||||
gets soft enough that the hand might be able to grasp the eye," she
|
||||
cautions pointing toward the round object in the center of the
|
||||
candle, "smash the thing. As hard as you can. Destroy the hand, and
|
||||
run."
|
||||
|
||||
"The rest of the instructions should be pretty self explanatory!" she
|
||||
exclaims, perking up. "Let me know if you have any questions!"
|
||||
|
||||
<details>
|
||||
|
||||
<summary>Ritual Details</summary>
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
Ritual Steps In Brief:
|
||||
|
||||
1. Find a volunteer to be the Dream Host.
|
||||
|
||||
2. Link your sanctum to the place where the Bazaar will be on the
|
||||
appointed date. (You can't just do your ceremony out in the open in
|
||||
the middle of the street! Find somewhere you can safely leave your
|
||||
bodies for a few hours.)
|
||||
|
||||
3. Draw a circle of salt.
|
||||
|
||||
4. At the appointed time, put the Dream Host in the circle. Also the
|
||||
Travelers (you), the Dream Sigil, and the Nyxmaer Candle.
|
||||
|
||||
5. Once the Host is asleep (Sleep spell not included), light the
|
||||
candle and enter the Host's dream.
|
||||
|
||||
6. Turn "away" from the dream, cross the Sea of Dreams to the
|
||||
Collective Unconsciousness.
|
||||
|
||||
7. Find the Bazaar's pocket dimension.
|
||||
|
||||
</details>
|
||||
|
||||
> The day the letter arrived Alex was nowhere to be found. It was a
|
||||
> bit strange, somewhat chilling even, that he'd disappear like that.
|
||||
> Ever since they had arrived back at the Milk Maid he'd been seen
|
||||
> skulking about his uncle's study, or pacing the garden out back
|
||||
> somewhat agitatedly. Unbeknownst to the party, Alex had anticipated
|
||||
> the arrival of the letter, HQ had been following every lead they
|
||||
> could pull in since he began with the Ginnarak recovery team. Not
|
||||
> that they really had much to go off of, but the courier who left
|
||||
> the letter wasn't hard to track. That was, until he slipped inside
|
||||
> one of the ever changing shops right as it was moving along.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The trail went cold after that. Which meant Alex had to get it
|
||||
> moving again, or at least the crumpled communique he'd received
|
||||
> said as much. Things were moving too quickly to think too hard on
|
||||
> the how, all that was needed was action, something drastic to flush
|
||||
> things out.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> That's why Alex finds himself on the east side of the market, skulk
|
||||
> about the back alley behind The Temporal Cup.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Gotta get this shit ready, there's no other options here" Alex
|
||||
> thought to himself. He loathed this type of work, it was messy,
|
||||
> abhorrently vile in his mind, but what choice did he have? His
|
||||
> hands worked deftly at the wires in the small package hidden inside
|
||||
> the recess of a loose brick. Once finished, the little packet came
|
||||
> to life, muted lights blicking away happily as the brick slid back
|
||||
> over it.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> This was the 3rd and final eavesdropping device, all placed at the
|
||||
> busiest cafes in market, all rigged with self destruct mechanisms
|
||||
> large enough to level the building if they're found.. The
|
||||
> eavesdropping Alex could abide by, but the wanton destruction for
|
||||
> the sake of security was painful to swallow.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> But once again, it wasn't much like Alex had a say in the matter.
|
||||
> The first sign of objection, an inclination that he'd refuse
|
||||
> orders, and they'd have an assassin on him before he could leave
|
||||
> the alley. And if he took it out, they'd send double, there'd be no
|
||||
> rest.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> --- Later that day
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex watched twtxt feeds scroll through from his monitoring
|
||||
> devices. Most of it unimportant gossip. So and so haves an affair,
|
||||
> what's for lunch, where to find good empanadas in the market, so on
|
||||
> and so forth. An endless stream on the pulse of the market.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> It was errant curiosity to watch these, the Magic Lichen in the
|
||||
> monitoring system was trained to hunt for any hint of what the
|
||||
> courier was up to, any twinge from Blavin and his ilk. It'd send
|
||||
> alerts straight to him as soon as something came up, but it was
|
||||
> interesting to see the pulse of the city trail by. And what else
|
||||
> could he do? It was too dangerous to go back to the Milk Maid, any
|
||||
> hint he was there could blow his cover. Best to lay low for the
|
||||
> time being, let the scrapers scrape and the agents comb the streets
|
||||
> until they get a bead on their target.
|
||||
|
||||
Milk Market HQ ought to be quiet. Alex has been conspicuously absent.
|
||||
Missing in action. Inky seems to be out making rounds delivering tea,
|
||||
or spending more time than usual at the empenadaria. So Milk Market
|
||||
HQ ought to be quiet.
|
||||
|
||||
Instead, a certain young hemogoblin and a certain yellow duck (both
|
||||
of whom have yet to be named, by the way) are squealing as they
|
||||
rampage through the rooms on the top floor of the building, upsetting
|
||||
the furniture in their wake and in general making a huge mess.
|
||||
|
||||
It took some coaxing on the hemogoblin's part. The duck was
|
||||
determinedly uninterested in anything besides a soak in its tub and a
|
||||
nap on its cushion. And it did a good job of ignoring the persistent,
|
||||
pestering goblin for most of the afternoon. But jumping into a wooden
|
||||
tub full of blood cracked the foul's disinterested facade. It gave
|
||||
furious chase to the goblin until the heat of the moment cooled down.
|
||||
At which point the two of them simply enjoyed the thrill of chasing
|
||||
each other through the apartments.
|
||||
|
||||
Confidence is actually the first one to stumble across the carnage.
|
||||
They were just popping by to drop off some new pamphlets, but froze
|
||||
in the doorway when they saw the suite in disarray and the walls
|
||||
plastered with blood and feathers. "What the toque..." And then they
|
||||
quietly closed the door and left without going in after all.
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
Gliftwirp browses the stalls trailing behind the Wandering Bazaar. He
|
||||
is bare chested save for a sleeveless vest. He wears long, baggy,
|
||||
striped trousers bunched at the ankle, and a bright red sash tied
|
||||
loosely around his waist. He grins a wide, gap-toothed grin as he
|
||||
thumps a melon.
|
||||
|
||||
"Look at the size of this melon! And perfectly ripe!" he beams at the
|
||||
stall vendor. "You'll be here next week? With more like this?"
|
||||
|
||||
Very few people would be able to tell Gliftwirp's profession from his
|
||||
attire. For those who can, one look at his red sash would immediately
|
||||
cause them to give him a wide berth. Because Gliftwirp is a
|
||||
warpwefter. A master assassin trained in the ancient art of
|
||||
sarong-fu. That is, the deadly application of soft and flexible
|
||||
weapons. Whips, chains, garrotes, nunchucks. And most famously---and
|
||||
most effectively---sashes, sarongs, scarves, and the like. The saying
|
||||
goes that a clothed warpwefter is never unarmed. Nor even is a nude
|
||||
one if they can get their hands on *your* clothes. And a warpwefter
|
||||
can sneak their weapons into the most secure of locations.
|
||||
|
||||
"I am a visitor here, and don't know my way around," he keeps up the
|
||||
small-talk with the vendor, having paid for the melon. "Do you know
|
||||
if there is a building around here called 'Milk Market?' I'm supposed
|
||||
to meet someone there. No, they're not expecting me. It's going to be
|
||||
a surprise!"
|
||||
|
||||
He grins his wide toothy grin.
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
The twtxt feed from the listening devices is dull and quiet. The
|
||||
monitoring software is designed to only deliver messages containing
|
||||
certain buzzwords. And those messages are few and far between.
|
||||
|
||||
You decide to tap into the unfiltered stream and let the endless
|
||||
waves of blather wash over you. It's inane. Idle gossip and mindless
|
||||
chitter-chatter.
|
||||
|
||||
After a day or two of this, you notice yourself getting
|
||||
uncharacteristically agitated. You squint at the lines of messages
|
||||
coming in and notice a few transposed characters in some of them,
|
||||
forming new nonsensical words. A couple messages are missing some
|
||||
whitespace, squishing words together in maddening run-ons. Glitchy.
|
||||
There's no reason the listening devices should be returning errors
|
||||
like this.
|
||||
|
||||
Later still, the feeds have gotten worse. Some words seem to be
|
||||
written backwards. Entire messages are garbled word soup, devoid of
|
||||
any meaning or sense whatsoever. Some of the timestamps are invalid
|
||||
datetimes. But you prefer them to the ones that are valid, but which
|
||||
are stamped years ago. And you far prefer them to the ones that are
|
||||
stamped far in the future.
|
||||
|
||||
The anomalies are overall infrequent. On their own, they don't amount
|
||||
to much. And when you show them, nobody at HQ gives you with much
|
||||
more than a slightly patronizing, indulgent shrug. But the glitches
|
||||
shouldn't be happening at all, is the thing. And when you compile
|
||||
them all together, you start to notice things. Patterns insinuating
|
||||
themselves, maddeningly just short of reason or meaning. Like a song
|
||||
stuck in your head when you can't remember the lyrics or the melody.
|
||||
But there's something there nonetheless. The promise of something, at
|
||||
least. Something bigger. A wide tapestry of links and connections,
|
||||
wanting to be known.
|
||||
|
||||
There are names. Ellis, the lady in red who sits at the center of a
|
||||
tangled web. Ousia, a sea of endless knowledge. A sea of magic. The
|
||||
215R Dude, a denizen of the other side who can deliver you to its
|
||||
shores. Other strange beings who lurk just out of sight, just beyond
|
||||
the veil of perception. The veil that you are now beginning to pierce
|
||||
with the snippets and snatches of information you pluck from your
|
||||
feeds.
|
||||
|
||||
You start to see signs of the veil elsewhere. Of the conspiracy.
|
||||
Whatever. You can't decide what to call it. Street graffiti outside
|
||||
of a red spider spinning a red web. Phrases like "215R" show up in
|
||||
random articles in the paper. As though the secret world is trying to
|
||||
cross over. Or to draw you into it.
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,205 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00056
|
||||
created: Mon, 16 Jan 2023 14:10:25 -0700
|
||||
updated: Mon, 16 Jan 2023 14:10:25 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00056 {#00056}
|
||||
|
||||
> The agitation Alex feels bubbles just beneath the surface. Patterns
|
||||
> where patterns shouldn't be, strange orders from HQ, indifference
|
||||
> where once was ample aide as well. It was maddening. Combine it all
|
||||
> with the haunting suspicion that there was constantly someone just
|
||||
> around the next corner, and it was enough to truly drive Alex mad.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> That uneasiness takes its toll on a long enough time line, but Alex
|
||||
> wasn't about to let it get to him. Or so he thought to himself as
|
||||
> he cast a furtive look at his monitoring equipment. This paranoia
|
||||
> had served him well in the past, very well in fact. It's a sort of
|
||||
> sixth sense in a way, always kept Alex off the edge of the cliff,
|
||||
> especially when someone stepped close enough to push him off. Those
|
||||
> were the types of skills HQ sought after in the first place.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex closes the iron door on his bunker, leaving his monitoring
|
||||
> equipment running, dead man's trigger set to blow the place shoul
|
||||
> anyone enter it. Can't be too careful these days..
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Emerging from the sewer grate, sticking to the shadows, Alex makes
|
||||
> his way down an alley, then another, and yet another, finally
|
||||
> emerging a few blocks from the Milk Market. Across the street, as
|
||||
> he had expected, was Marvelo's Marvelous MurderSticks, a quaint
|
||||
> place should one needed something, well you get the picture, they
|
||||
> don't really sell anything but weaponry here.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex ducked into the entrance of the shop and strode towards the
|
||||
> back rack, where a collection of knives was on display. A rough
|
||||
> looking fellow, ruddy red beard, thinning hair, moved from the
|
||||
> counter as he saw Alex approach. "Fine sampling of knives we have,
|
||||
> could I interest you in one?" Marvelo says. Alex reaches for a thin
|
||||
> stilleto style dagger, and hands it to Marvelo "This one seems
|
||||
> about right, but I'd like an extra sharp edge put on it, if you
|
||||
> don't mind". Marvelo takes the stilleto from Alex say "Not a
|
||||
> problem at all sir", and he heads into the back.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> He sets to work honing the edge, and once complete he places it on
|
||||
> his work bench. Grabbing a velvet lined case from a stack, he
|
||||
> deftly removes the bottom and places a rolled piece of paper into
|
||||
> the bottom, alongside an m1911 style pistol, and a couple of clips
|
||||
> of ammo. He then places the velvet bottom back over the equipment,
|
||||
> and places the stilleto on top, bringing the entire package back to
|
||||
> the front. "An extra fine edge on this one sir, that'll be 15 gold,
|
||||
> plus another 5 to cover the service.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex pays, and nips out the shop and heads back to the back alley.
|
||||
> Paranoia begets what it requets, Alex mutters to himself as he
|
||||
> disassembles the box holstering the pistol and ammo, and sheathing
|
||||
> the dagger. Can't keep going unarmed like I'm some kind of beat
|
||||
> cop, not anymore.. Alex discards the case and unfurls the message,
|
||||
> quickly deciphering the encryption set on it by Marvelo.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
> The hunt is still on, no word on Blavin nor the Iris group, yet.
|
||||
> Agent 7 heard rumor of a couple of persons inquiring about the "Milk Market" these past few days.
|
||||
> Agent 3 heard similar rumors, was able to bribe a melon vendor to acertain the figure wore a red sash, and was looking for friends.
|
||||
> Agent 6 has kept watch on the Market, nothing strange yet, coming and goings as usual, no strange visitors
|
||||
> Agent 4 monitoring feeds still present glitches, something abnormal
|
||||
> Agent 5 found the melon vendor dead in a back alley, strangled to death, not immediate signs of blunt force trauma, caution advised
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex burned the note, striding rapidly away from the alley, taking
|
||||
> a meandering route away from the Milk Market, looping back around,
|
||||
> and heading back towards it by yet another. Nobody appeared to be
|
||||
> following him, yet he paused at each corner and turn, waiting for
|
||||
> the footsteps of a pursuant.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Noting nothing, he made his way through the back entrance of
|
||||
> Enrique's Empanadas greeting the cook quietly, but jovial.
|
||||
> "Enrique, where's Inky? We've got a problem."
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
> Inky skims the page. They thank the witch, pay for the items and
|
||||
> exit the shop, promptly discarding all notions of meeting Bother at
|
||||
> the place stipulated on the note.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> *(Half and one hour later)*
|
||||
>
|
||||
> One-sixths into a caramel cantaloupe cream cornet, Inky runs into
|
||||
> Confidence outside the Wandering Bazaar and obtains some of their
|
||||
> new pamphlets, minted with luminescent ink for the convenience of
|
||||
> late-night tourists. These are subsequently hare-mailed to every
|
||||
> editor at the *Niuewstijl* office, which is almost certain to earn
|
||||
> another chiding remark from Tess about etiquette and the handling
|
||||
> of unsolicited bulk mail to parent editorial teams.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> *(Half and two hours later)*
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The installation on display at the Milk Market was grotesque — that
|
||||
> is to say, a work of beauty. Inky steps carefully through the rooms
|
||||
> to not disturb the piece. Afterwards, they sign the guestbook set
|
||||
> up on an upturned milk crate by the door, delightedly pasting rows
|
||||
> of horse head and thumbs-up emo Gs on a page thoughtfully titled
|
||||
> "you can't ed the unedible".
|
||||
>
|
||||
> *(Half and three hours earlier)*
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Thanking Agate for her time, Inky passes her a sheet of paper on
|
||||
> which were written a few questions about the prescribed ritual,
|
||||
> with some space after each question should the witch prefer to
|
||||
> scribble a response:
|
||||
>
|
||||
> - What do guides in the Sea of Dreams and the Ravenfolk typically
|
||||
> seek in return for directing travellers to the correct pocket
|
||||
> dimension?
|
||||
>
|
||||
> - An establishment inside the Bazaar is only open in the evenings
|
||||
> whenever it appears in the city. How long does travel to a pocket
|
||||
> dimension typically take, allowing for time to seek out a guide? Is
|
||||
> there a way travellers can estimate the time to set out on their
|
||||
> journey, in order to arrive at the establishment while it is open?
|
||||
>
|
||||
> - Who are the Red Spider and "Dude 215R" mentioned in the ritual?
|
||||
> How can travellers avoid summoning them?
|
||||
>
|
||||
> - Would anything happen to the travellers if any of the sigils were
|
||||
> removed during the ritual before they wake up?
|
||||
>
|
||||
> *(Half and four hours later)*
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Two sets of eyes peer down at the contents of an open tin. One
|
||||
> accompanied by a focused look and a little trepidation, following
|
||||
> the pinkish, flesh-like chunks speckled with white pockets of fat
|
||||
> as they tumble into a hot pan and almost immediately begin to move
|
||||
> of their own accord. The moving mounds resemble small round mouths
|
||||
> opening, each with a rim of sharp teeth. The other pair of eyes
|
||||
> belongs to a grinning face that beams when the mounds bloom into
|
||||
> bright red flat caps, the edges beneath about to soften in the
|
||||
> olive oil.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Minutes after, The slices are ready. Inky accepts the plate of
|
||||
> tostada with spicy pickled artichoke mushrooms and tomatoes with a
|
||||
> murmur of thanks. Reassembling the recipe for the tinned spicy
|
||||
> artichoke mushrooms had been a tedious process — someone had ripped
|
||||
> out the pages from an old pickling book that had long ceased
|
||||
> publication. Eventually Inky found a former nomad who had eaten
|
||||
> them for two years in their youth and could recall or somewhat
|
||||
> describe the taste. Flowery and savoury, they said. Many taste
|
||||
> tests later, it turned out to be closer to partially decomposed
|
||||
> cheese in ponderosa lemon juice. Canning was fortuitously easier
|
||||
> with the increasing portability of sealers. Rather than telling the
|
||||
> empanada chef any of this, Inky watches satisfaction slowly spread
|
||||
> across his face. The tale that follows is far more entertaining.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> *(Half and five hours later)*
|
||||
>
|
||||
> While measuring out ingredients for the forty-second tea infusion
|
||||
> since the start of the missions, not that Inky was keeping a close
|
||||
> count, they hear a familiar voice a short distance outside the door
|
||||
> asking for their whereabouts. Without pausing in their whisking,
|
||||
> Inky simply informs the owner of the voice they're not here,
|
||||
> obviously, before emerging from the storage pantry with a fresh pot
|
||||
> and bowls on a wooden tray, and greets the returning sysorcerer.
|
||||
|
||||
Agate writes back quickly:
|
||||
|
||||
> What do guides in the Sea of Dreams and the Ravenfolk typically
|
||||
> seek in return for directing travellers to the correct pocket
|
||||
> dimension?
|
||||
|
||||
Intangibles. Usually memories, hopes, or dreams.
|
||||
|
||||
> An establishment inside the Bazaar is only open in the evenings
|
||||
> whenever it appears in the city. How long does travel to a pocket
|
||||
> dimension typically take, allowing for time to seek out a guide? Is
|
||||
> there a way travellers can estimate the time to set out on their
|
||||
> journey, in order to arrive at the establishment while it is open?
|
||||
|
||||
You'll find that time is rather malleable on the Otherside. You'll
|
||||
likely arrive exactly when you're meant to. No need to worry too
|
||||
much about it.
|
||||
|
||||
> Who are the Red Spider and "Dude 215R" mentioned in the ritual?
|
||||
> How can travellers avoid summoning them?
|
||||
|
||||
Godforms manifested by the Linking Sigil and the Dream Sigil,
|
||||
respectively. It's not *terrible* if they show up. But it's
|
||||
definitely not ideal. You shouldn't register on their radar as long
|
||||
as you don't pump too much energy into, or siphon to much energy
|
||||
out of, the sigils. If they do show up, just know that you're in the
|
||||
presence of a godlike power, and behave accordingly.
|
||||
|
||||
> Would anything happen to the travellers if any of the sigils were
|
||||
> removed during the ritual before they wake up?
|
||||
|
||||
If the sigils are removed or if the circle is broken, you'll likely
|
||||
just wake up before you wanted to. Same goes for if your dreamform
|
||||
is destroyed while in the Dreaming. The only real danger you may
|
||||
encounter is the Scissormen and their ilk. They will attempt to
|
||||
permanently sever 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
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,258 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00057
|
||||
created: Mon, 16 Jan 2023 20:30:44 -0700
|
||||
updated: Fri, 20 Jan 2023 14:58:46 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00057 {#00057}
|
||||
|
||||
> 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
|
||||
|
||||
- The time of the ritual is at hand.
|
||||
- What final preparations do you make before entering Dreamspace?
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,246 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00058
|
||||
created: Sat, 21 Jan 2023 16:24:45 -0700
|
||||
updated: Sun, 29 Jan 2023 11:02:32 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00058 {#00058}
|
||||
|
||||
> *(A week prior)*
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The secretary collected the stack of papers that had accumulated at
|
||||
> one corner of the desk. "This might help," she said, setting down a
|
||||
> bundle of herbs with white and pink flowers in place of the papers.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Inky stared at the blooms, hands stilled over the owl's plumage.
|
||||
> "Oh! Thanks. Good thinking, really. It'll help make the stench more
|
||||
> bearable when they find the remains."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The grey elf was confused for a moment, then mortified as the words
|
||||
> sank in. "That's not what I meant! It's for the circle," she
|
||||
> clarified.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Seeing the imp's preoccupied nod, she coughed lightly to regain
|
||||
> their attention, then spoke in a hushed voice. "Beaker's associates
|
||||
> have picked up the empanada shop proprietor and transported him to
|
||||
> an undisclosed location. There will be a retinue with him at all
|
||||
> times."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Inky seemed to visibly pull themselves back to the room before
|
||||
> responding, "Thank you, Salvia. One more thing — if I do not return
|
||||
> by the indicated time, please activate the hitsuzen protocol. As
|
||||
> precaution."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The secretary looked at Inky in concern. "Is everything all right?
|
||||
> If you're still troubled by the hotelier, accidents happen. A
|
||||
> single incident—"
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Third. An unidentified man was attacked at the docks. He was
|
||||
> probably sent to investigate the melon vendor. One of the other
|
||||
> stall owners heard him asking questions shortly after the melon
|
||||
> vendor disappeared."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Salvia's violet eyes narrowed. "What, the fruit vendor? Didn't the
|
||||
> tabloids say it was an accident? He tried to get rid of a
|
||||
> neighbor's nest of snakes."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Inky only raised an eyebrow at her.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The secretary let out a low curse. "You didn't tell her. You didn't
|
||||
> want her to worry," she said aloud in realization. She sighed.
|
||||
> "She's going to be pretty angry with you when she finds out, you
|
||||
> know."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Inky offered her a sardonic smile. "Making people angry is my job.
|
||||
> You of all people know this well. In the event of my timely demise
|
||||
> I'm sure the others would find it cause for a grand celebration."
|
||||
> They replied matter-of-factly before returning to smoothing the
|
||||
> feathers of one bird wing.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Salvia shook her head vehemently. "That's not true. You'll make it
|
||||
> back, Ink. What then—"
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Then our fair Lady's ire would be the least of the problems."
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
> Alex stared morosely into his cup of coffee. He'd received word of
|
||||
> agent 5's demise that morning, and had been the only thing on his
|
||||
> mind since. 5, no Be'tram knew the risks, we all knew the risks
|
||||
> defying HQ brought, but to happen so suddenly? He'd snuck down to
|
||||
> the wharf once he'd heard, making sure to cover his tracks and
|
||||
> dodge any potential witnesses. He even managed to slip past the
|
||||
> police cordon they'd setup around the body. What he'd found wasn't
|
||||
> pretty, it looked like Be'Tram had suffered in his final moments.
|
||||
> The bruising around his neck pointed to strangulation, with some
|
||||
> sort of cloth, perhaps a rope. The bruising was deep, and there
|
||||
> wasn't a cut, burn, shot or something of the likes on his
|
||||
> otherwise.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The kill had been intimate.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex had worked quickly that night, popping Be'Tram's eye had been
|
||||
> hard, but he'd of wanted Alex to have it. Behind his right eye was
|
||||
> a recording device, it could only catch the last 15m or so of what
|
||||
> he had seen, but it would give him a clear look at what had
|
||||
> happened. And potentially lead Alex to the killer. Miserable
|
||||
> business, but Be'Tram knew it could make a difference.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex had planted a bomb on the body after he had extracted the eye,
|
||||
> and made his way well away from the area before it went off
|
||||
> obliterating the remains. A regrettable end for an old friend, but it
|
||||
> was too dangerous to leave.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> And then there was the matter of the zabbix alert, a little purple
|
||||
> red critical for the sewer hideout. He'd had time to send out a
|
||||
> drone beetle. The smoldering slag that was left was reassuring.
|
||||
> Most of the equipment was utterly destroyed, racks upon racks of
|
||||
> servers reduced to twisted melted metal. The effectively of the
|
||||
> destruction was delightful, in a sick sort of desperate way. Alex
|
||||
> felt assured that most if not all of the equipment was useless, but
|
||||
> this spelled the end of a valuable listening outpost. And whoever
|
||||
> had done it wasn't part of the slag pile.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex stood up, his coffee untouched. The cafe around his burbled in
|
||||
> quiet excitement. The city had lit up since the Melon vendor's
|
||||
> death. A thousand rumors abounded about it, but none of them held
|
||||
> true; some said the city had become dangerous, a crime syndicate
|
||||
> had arisen in the neighboring city block another thought, and did
|
||||
> you hear about the explosion at the wharf the other night, the city
|
||||
> was electric, yet somehow ever so slightly off the pulse of the
|
||||
> issue.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> As Alex stepped away a woman with horn rimmed glasses strode past
|
||||
> the table he had just abandoned, deftly pulling the note from
|
||||
> beneath the coffee cup, left for her.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
> 4 -> 3
|
||||
> Daylight breaks on the morrow
|
||||
> The suns rays make chase
|
||||
> casting soft cloth
|
||||
> across the nap of nature's neck
|
||||
>
|
||||
> So, night relents and gives way
|
||||
> biding time until
|
||||
> it can rule
|
||||
> in its own domain
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
>
|
||||
> For the passerby, it was but a bit of poetry, scribbled carelessly
|
||||
> on the back of a napkin in a coffee near the wharf. But for Agent 3
|
||||
> it was a warning, one part notes on Agent 5s demise recovered from
|
||||
> his eyecam, one part orders; stay low and we'll strike these
|
||||
> bastards from the shadows, on our terms, on our ground. Similar
|
||||
> missives were delivered to Agents 6 & 7. The numbers were
|
||||
> dwindling rapidly, even just one agent lost was hard to stomach.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex hand gripped the pistol in his coat pocket with a white
|
||||
> knuckled grip as he stepped from the coffee shop into the city.
|
||||
> Whatever was after him, whatever had gotten to Be'Tram, it had
|
||||
> better know he was coming, and he'd happily send it straight to
|
||||
> hell. HQ be damned, the rules be damned, this little game of cat
|
||||
> and mouse had just gotten personal.
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
> Alex, Inky, Confidence, Bread, and Agent 7 find themselves in a
|
||||
> dark backroom in a secluded corner of an old fish processing plant
|
||||
> on the wharf. The accommodations are rough, and the stench is
|
||||
> abhorrent, but it's the best that could be procured in a pinch. And
|
||||
> it should provide enough seclusion.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The backroom is like that of many factories, high up near the
|
||||
> ceiling, a single rusty rickety staircase winds its way along the
|
||||
> side of the building for what seems to be 3 flights, before it
|
||||
> reaches a metal room with dusty grimy windows, and a single
|
||||
> steel door. The windows on the interior overlook the fish
|
||||
> processing plant, where rows of belts and machinery stand still,
|
||||
> covered in dust and long forgotten blood. You're glad to know that
|
||||
> the factory stopped operating years ago, hygiene is lacking in every
|
||||
> sense.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex stares forlornly out the exterior windows, the sky is a grey
|
||||
> overcast, it matches his mood perfectly. He didn't like what him
|
||||
> and Inky were about to do, but they didn't have much they could do
|
||||
> about it. They would be vulnerable for the duration of the ritual.
|
||||
> But Agent 7 and Confidence were there to help mitigate that risk.
|
||||
> Alex and Agent 7 had taken every precaution they could think of.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The plant floor was scattered with booby traps, trip wires, and
|
||||
> alarms. The other agents were laying low, but kept drones around
|
||||
> the wharf feeding in a network of twtxt data back to Agent 7 for
|
||||
> recon. And that was on top of the double barred steel doors, and
|
||||
> reinforced glass box they'd chosen as their hide out. Meticulously
|
||||
> planned, Alex expected no less from Agent 7.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> See Marvelo had been at this as long as Alex had, and then some. He
|
||||
> was sharp as a tack, with an animal-like third sense that came from
|
||||
> years of close calls. He was, simply put, the right man for the
|
||||
> job, when that job was keeping your unconscious ass alive.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex turns away from the window and addresses Inky. "Apologies for
|
||||
> the smell, it turns out there's a strong correlation between
|
||||
> disgust and seclusion, but I believe we should at least be safe
|
||||
> here. Safer than we would have been back home. I'm ready if you
|
||||
> are, as ready as I'll ever be that is."
|
||||
|
||||
The Golden Iris have summoned you to appear at the Harpoon Club this
|
||||
evening. But the Harpoon Club is nowhere to be found on this plane of
|
||||
existence. It won't appear until a week and a half from now, on the
|
||||
last day of the month.
|
||||
|
||||
Confidence the Guide has predicted exactly where the Wandering Bazaar
|
||||
will be on that day. With a small bucket of red paint and a large
|
||||
brush, he has drawn a Linking Sigil on the ground at the location. He
|
||||
sits nearby, making sure careless passersby and mischievous kids
|
||||
don't disturb it, but otherwise letting the sigil absorb the energies
|
||||
of the bustle of shopping and commerce.
|
||||
|
||||
At the fish market, Marvelo is posted outside. He keeps vigilant
|
||||
watch, alert to every movement and disturbance.
|
||||
|
||||
And inside, Bread, Inky, Fuko, and Alex are huddled up in the office
|
||||
in the back near the ceiling. They all sit inside a dark circle that
|
||||
has been smudged on the floor with a paste made of ash and salt.
|
||||
Painted on the ground is a second Linking Sigil, connecting this spot
|
||||
to Confidence's, allowing the energies of the two locations to
|
||||
co-mingle. There is also the Dream Sigil, which will connect this
|
||||
place to the Dreaming.
|
||||
|
||||
Bread the Host is propped up on some pillows and cushions in the
|
||||
center of the circle, next to the Nyxmaer. The candle is alleged to
|
||||
be made of the flesh and fat of a certain nightmare. Its hand and eye
|
||||
bound in the wax. The Dream Sigil is the door, but the Nyxmaer is the
|
||||
key. The catalyst that will cause all of the otherwise inert
|
||||
metaphysical particles to become volatile and reactive. It is what
|
||||
will allow you to actually pass over and arrive on the shores of the
|
||||
Sea of Dreams.
|
||||
|
||||
Per the shop witch's instructions, the Nyxmaer has been placed on a
|
||||
thin, hard tin plate. As the candle burns, the wax will soften and
|
||||
eventually allow the large metal nail in its side to fall. When it
|
||||
strikes the plate, you will awaken, exiting the Dreaming. You expect
|
||||
hours may pass in the realm of sleep. But only about thirty minutes
|
||||
will pass here.
|
||||
|
||||
Inky and Alex sit inside the circle, near the perimeter, facing Bread
|
||||
in the center. Fuko the owl sits at Inky's side.
|
||||
|
||||
It is dim. You are illuminated by mundane, non-magical candles set
|
||||
around the edges of the circle. Outside, a steady rain beats on the
|
||||
roof and the windows of the building. The smell of fish is faint but
|
||||
ever-present. A constant reminder of the small creatures that have
|
||||
left their bodies in a fashion far more permanent and irreversible
|
||||
than the separation of spirit and body you are about to experience.
|
||||
You hope.
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO
|
||||
|
||||
- How do you induce a deep and powerful slumber in Bread?
|
||||
|
||||
- What shape or form will you take when you arrive in the Dreaming?
|
||||
|
||||
- What are you secretly worried or hopeful about being exposed in the
|
||||
dreamland, the realm of metaphor?
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,102 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00059
|
||||
created: Mon, 30 Jan 2023 21:41:56 -0700
|
||||
updated: Mon, 30 Jan 2023 21:41:56 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00059 {#00059}
|
||||
|
||||
> Alex procures from a pocket of his trenchcoat a tiny vial. On the
|
||||
> vial is a small strip of parchment which reads:
|
||||
>
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
> #!/bin/ash
|
||||
> sleepy=true
|
||||
>
|
||||
> sleep() {
|
||||
> while sleepy; do
|
||||
> sleep(10)
|
||||
> done
|
||||
> }
|
||||
>
|
||||
> trap sleep INT EXIT
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
>
|
||||
> He empties the vial into a glass of warm milk and hands it to bread.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Drink up friend, this'll relax and soothe you. You'll probably have
|
||||
> the best night's sleep you've ever had"
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Over the radio Alex provides a quick reminder to Marvelo.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "7, remember, should you need to wake bread to get us out you can
|
||||
> interrupt or cancel the sleep script, Ctrl + C should work for the
|
||||
> disruption work. Or if you need to you can set sleepy=false, if it
|
||||
> gets crazy and you need to modify the metavarbalic properties of the
|
||||
> enchantment."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Turning to Inky, "Eight bells and all's well, lets get this show on
|
||||
> the road"
|
||||
|
||||
Bread smiles and thanks you for the milk. They down the glass, smack
|
||||
their lips a few times, and wipe their mouth with the back of their
|
||||
hand. Their eyelids grow heavy and close, and they slump down on the
|
||||
cushions. They're already asleep by the time their head hits the
|
||||
pillow.
|
||||
|
||||
> Inky nods once at Alex's words and finishes off their own cuppa
|
||||
> steeped with calea and thyme, and blended into osmanthus matcha.
|
||||
> Lucida, Protege, Aware, Perfume. A meaningless mantra.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> They glance to their owlish accomplice (who, she will remind you, is
|
||||
> well-trained and needs no sleeping aid, thank you very much, unlike
|
||||
> her impish charge) and silently mouth the words "Dude 215R" with a
|
||||
> wink. Then they settle for a nap, chin pillowed on their forearms,
|
||||
> which are propped atop drawn-up knees. A walking stick rests on their
|
||||
> lap. A herb bouquet of pink blooms becomes an owl cushion.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Inky dreamforms of a cream noogle. Puko. And Fuko is, well, still
|
||||
> Fuko.
|
||||
|
||||
You light the Nyxmaer. The flame crackles and dances. It smokes
|
||||
darkly, and the scent it gives off is thick and heady.
|
||||
|
||||
You breathe deeply of it and settle down to sleep.
|
||||
|
||||
When you open your eyes you are standing on the branch of an enormous
|
||||
white tree. It's as wide as a narrow street. Its leaves are silver
|
||||
blades that uncurl in the dappled light from below.
|
||||
|
||||
One of the first things you notice is that gravity is reversed here.
|
||||
The branches below you reach down, grazing an endless sky. Small
|
||||
iridescent jellyfish medusae drift lazily far, far below, catching
|
||||
and reflecting the light. And the trunk thickens as it reaches up
|
||||
overhead, where its roots drill into the ceiling above.
|
||||
|
||||
Because of dream logic, you know that in some way this tree
|
||||
represents Kelsun Peak, Bread's home. And also because of dream
|
||||
logic, you know that the branches furthest away from you in some way
|
||||
represent the great dragon Lucin who lives deep in the mountain. And
|
||||
they are just as dangerous. They sway in the breeze and seem to be
|
||||
aware of you, and are for now satisfied at the distance you keep from
|
||||
them.
|
||||
|
||||
There is a chipmunk sitting cross-legged before you on the branch. It
|
||||
looks curiously up at you and says, "The Red Squirrel stole my
|
||||
acorns! Are you going to get them back for me?"
|
||||
|
||||
You can feel a metaphysical tug in your gut as your orient yourself
|
||||
to dreamspace like the needle of a compass. "Inward" you can feel a
|
||||
tug toward Bread's deep unconscious. To their core memories.
|
||||
"Outward" you can feel a tug away from Bread toward the shores of the
|
||||
Sea of Dreams, where you may continue your journey through the
|
||||
Collective Unconsciousness to the pocket dimension of the Wandering
|
||||
Bazaar. You need not move physically to travel in either direction.
|
||||
It's more a matter of choosing a destination, and letting the winds
|
||||
blow you in that direction.
|
||||
|
||||
"My acorns!" insists the chipmunk, wringing its hands. "The Red
|
||||
Squirrel has taken them all! Are you going to help me?"
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,88 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00060
|
||||
created: Tue, 31 Jan 2023 19:11:47 -0700
|
||||
updated: Tue, 31 Jan 2023 19:11:48 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00060 {#00060}
|
||||
|
||||
> Alex takes inventory of himself, this dream world is definitely
|
||||
> strange, but fortunately its decided to provide him with his
|
||||
> impecable fashion, trench coat and all. Unfortunately the same can't
|
||||
> be said for his roguish good looks, as he's found himself 6 arms
|
||||
> heavier, and a bit more octopus-y than he remembers.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Nontheless this doesn't appear to be much of an impediment, and he
|
||||
> promptly moves on with assessing the situation.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Acorns? No, I don't think so. I'm afraid octopus' are terrible at
|
||||
> fetching acrons, and at any rate, I have a dreadfully important
|
||||
> meeting across town." turning to address Inky, "We need to make a
|
||||
> break for it, what'd the witch tell you? Envision our goal or
|
||||
> something? This is really a little outside of my realm of mechanical
|
||||
> magic expertise.. unless.."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex makes a gesture with his tentacles in the area and a terminal
|
||||
> prompt appears before him. His tentacles work at blinding speed at
|
||||
> the digital window, a quick bypass there, a root access escalation
|
||||
> there.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Looks like this whole place runs on Linux, it's an older kernel,
|
||||
> about 2.6 or so, but it checks out. Easy to exploit as needed. Here
|
||||
> I'm giving us sudo access, should we need it."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Oh and squirrel, here's your acorns"
|
||||
>
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
> find /* -name '*acron*' -exec mv /home/squirrel { } \
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
|
||||
It takes Alectopus a couple tries, but he gets it. First he corrects
|
||||
'acron' to 'acorn'. Then he moves all the acorns to the *chipmunk*
|
||||
instead of to the squirrel.
|
||||
|
||||
Hundreds of acorns appear at the chipmunk's feet. It squeals in
|
||||
delight.
|
||||
|
||||
In the distance, far below you, you hear the anguished yell of what
|
||||
can only be a Red Squirrel whose giant stash of acorns has just
|
||||
vanished.
|
||||
|
||||
The chipmunk rubs its hands together gleefully and starts scooping up
|
||||
acorns by the armful and shoving them into its mouth by the dozen.
|
||||
"Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" it says around a mouthful of
|
||||
nuts. "Here..." It tosses you a large square silver coin with a round
|
||||
hole drilled in the center. On one side is the number twenty-one next
|
||||
to a picture of a curved, short-handled sickle. On the other side is
|
||||
the number five and a picture of a flail.
|
||||
|
||||
"A Twenty-One Fiver! Sorry, you deserve more, but it's all I have,"
|
||||
it apologizes as it scampers off, no doubt to hide its nuts.
|
||||
Hopefully somewhere more secure this time.
|
||||
|
||||
If you hold the coin up to your eye and peer through the hole, you
|
||||
see the dreamscape before you as though looking through a cloudy
|
||||
film. All the same stuff is there, but it's hazy and shadowy.
|
||||
|
||||
Standing a fair distance from you on the branch, just out of hailing
|
||||
distance, is a tall figure cloaked in black robes. Dark shadows pool
|
||||
restlessly around its feet. Occasionally the shadows leap up and take
|
||||
the form of demons the like of which words cannot describe, before
|
||||
falling and returning to shadow once more. The figure wears a large
|
||||
spherical helmet of obsidian-like glass. You can see constant flashes
|
||||
of a rainbow of colors crackle and splinter along the inside of the
|
||||
helmet like lightning, but illuminating nothing within. You feel
|
||||
sickened at the sight, but at the edge of your mind you feels a tug,
|
||||
a familiarity. Something about this character is familiar to you, but
|
||||
you cannot place it.
|
||||
|
||||
When you lower the coin, the figure and the dark landscape both
|
||||
disappear. When you raise it again, the distorted landscape reappears
|
||||
but the figure is gone.
|
||||
|
||||
You notice a pair of large ravens watching you rather intently from
|
||||
the branches below.
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,53 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00061
|
||||
created: Mon, 06 Feb 2023 09:59:55 -0700
|
||||
updated: Mon, 06 Feb 2023 09:59:55 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00061 {#00061}
|
||||
|
||||
Alex the Octopus and Inky the Noogle stand on a tree branch as wide a
|
||||
street in the heart of the great white upside-down forest.
|
||||
|
||||
A cry of anguish and anger echoes through the forest, and the
|
||||
branches below you sway and rustle as something rises up from the
|
||||
depths. You keep catching a glimpse of scarlet between the silvery
|
||||
white leaves.
|
||||
|
||||
The large black ravens perched below you scream in agitation and fly
|
||||
up past you to the thicker branches up above, where they hop side to
|
||||
side and loudly scold and protest the disturbance. A single black
|
||||
feather the length of your hand settles to the ground at your feet,
|
||||
knocked loose during their flight.
|
||||
|
||||
You finally see the fearsome beast crashing through the branches
|
||||
below you. Its crazed, yellow eyes as large and round as dinner
|
||||
plates, a great eight-legged rodent leaps from branch to branch as it
|
||||
swiftly ascends. It is a bloody, crimson red. Its long tufted ears
|
||||
lay flat against its elongated, grinning skull. Its ribbon-like tail
|
||||
twitches as it trails along behind it like a river of blood. It cries
|
||||
out again in anger, showing its overgrown incisors, and grinds and
|
||||
gnashes its back teeth.
|
||||
|
||||
Its eyes bore into you with wild fury and blind madness as it climbs.
|
||||
|
||||
"She's not herself," sighs the chipmunk, suddenly at your side once
|
||||
more. When you look down at the chipmunk, however, it has suddenly
|
||||
turned into a small featureless black turtle with a sticky sweet roll
|
||||
instead of a shell. Its smooth little head pokes timidly out of the
|
||||
roll.
|
||||
|
||||
"The Red Squirrel," laments the turtle. "She's being ridden by a
|
||||
ghost. An angry ghost who isn't from here. Somebody left the door
|
||||
open, and it blew in on the breeze." The turtle's voice trails off
|
||||
until its final words are barely a whisper.
|
||||
|
||||
You can still feel two currents tugging at you and trying to pull you
|
||||
under. One inward toward your host's deep, core memories. And the
|
||||
second pulling you outward toward the Sea of Dreams.
|
||||
|
||||
You have but a moment before the Red Squirrel is upon you.
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,114 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00062
|
||||
created: Sun, 12 Feb 2023 08:57:51 -0700
|
||||
updated: Sun, 12 Feb 2023 08:57:51 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00062 {#00062}
|
||||
|
||||
> One moment, Inky is half-asleep on their feet in the middle of Branch Avenue.
|
||||
> In the next, they are reclining in a banana boat that resembles a canoe painted
|
||||
> with long stripes of yellow and white with deep brown swipes. The s'more
|
||||
> interior padding is soft, yet with the suppleness of fruit leather. A few
|
||||
> round, matching brown mini-cushions are strewn across the boat interior. Also
|
||||
> in the boat are two silver spoon paddles, more for looks than cooks.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> They don't know where the boat came from. Things just appear. Like that Red
|
||||
> Squirrel. Inky moves to holler a greeting, but instead recites:
|
||||
>
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
> "sgb rpthqqbk hr qba sgb fgnrsr dktb
|
||||
> sgb qnkkr rwbbs uma rn uqb ynt
|
||||
> sgnt uqs ly fthahmf rsuq ul h sghmb
|
||||
> h rbb vbqhky ly utrohehntr rhfm
|
||||
> sgb kns wur snrra uma sgbm h aqbw
|
||||
> uma cnqstmb ruha hs rgnta db ynt ott"[1]
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
>
|
||||
>
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
> [1]:
|
||||
> "The squirrel is red, the ghost's blue,
|
||||
> The roll's sweet, and so are you.
|
||||
> Thou art my guiding star, am I thine?
|
||||
> I see verily my auspicious sign:
|
||||
> The lot was toss'd and then I drew,
|
||||
> And Fortune said it shou'd be you. Puu."
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
> While Inky boards her banana boat and recites poetry to the maddened
|
||||
> squirrel, Alex springs to action leaping blithely from the branch
|
||||
> towards the squirrel. Beneath him manifests a cockpit, sleek and
|
||||
> futuristic. Around this materializes a large robotic weapon,
|
||||
> octopus-oid in shape. The many tentacles bristle with weapons both
|
||||
> fearsome and deadly.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex grabs the controls, in one tentacle he latches onto the banana
|
||||
> boat, that way he won't accidentally get separated from Inky. With
|
||||
> the other seven a series of feathers appear in every brilliant hue.
|
||||
> The tentacle attached to the boat unfurls allowing Alex to draw
|
||||
> closer to the squirrel. As the gap closes the most intense tickle
|
||||
> fight the dream world has ever seen ensues, bringing joyous laughter
|
||||
> to the faces of many.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Inky, if we need to get out of here, just jet it! That tentacle will
|
||||
> yank the control pod and me with it!"
|
||||
|
||||
Alex basically becomes a Mech pilot, and confronts the Red Squirrel
|
||||
head on with the Octopod.
|
||||
|
||||
You engage in the tickle fight to end all tickle fights!
|
||||
|
||||
Its eight arms are more than a match for the squirrels eight legs.
|
||||
You have the advantage of reach, entanglement, and sucker pads. It
|
||||
struggles in your grasp, gnashing its terrible teeth, but cannot
|
||||
reach you. Its long tail whips around ineffectively, battering you
|
||||
softly.
|
||||
|
||||
The agitated squirrel squeals and swells like a red balloon. The
|
||||
mech's tentacles struggle to contain it. Just as the strain on the
|
||||
machine is about to become unbearable, the rodent violently deflates.
|
||||
It collapses in on itself with such ferocity that it turns itself
|
||||
inside out. The octopod, all tangled up in the collapsing squirrel,
|
||||
is pulled along as it folds in on itself until it becomes a hungry
|
||||
void the size of a marble, floating in space and sucking at the air.
|
||||
|
||||
Inky watches from the banana boat as Alex and the squirrel disappear
|
||||
from the Silver Forest. The squirrel portal finally closes in on
|
||||
itself, severing the banana boat from the octopus mecha at the last
|
||||
possible second. Inky on this side. Alex on the other.
|
||||
|
||||
Alex, you and the wreckage of the octopod are vomited out onto a
|
||||
sandy beach. Red mist and vapors dissipate from your entry point.
|
||||
Before you is a vast ocean, lapping lazily at the beach. The
|
||||
shoreline extends endlessly in both directions. Behind you are
|
||||
endless sand dunes. Though there is no sun, the sky seems to hover at
|
||||
sunset, all brilliant, swirling oranges and purples.
|
||||
|
||||
A lone humanoid figure can be seen standing atop a nearby dune. It is
|
||||
tall. It has legs like a goat or fawn, and a paunchy belly. Its long
|
||||
neck protrudes into a kind of trunk that eventually folds over and
|
||||
hangs down in front of the creature, about chest height. It
|
||||
terminates in a smooth, round nub. No face. It wears a small satchel
|
||||
at its hip, its strap slung over one shoulder and across its chest.
|
||||
Its long arms hand loosely at its sides. Despite the lack of a face
|
||||
and any sensory organs, it seems to be watching you. Slowly, it
|
||||
descends the dune and starts walking toward you. It reaches into its
|
||||
satchel and draws a long, sharp knife as it approaches.
|
||||
|
||||
Inky, you are in the banana boat in the Silver Forest. The turtle
|
||||
that was a chipmunk has holed up in its shell, effectively just a
|
||||
sticky bun.
|
||||
|
||||
"You wanted to see me," intones a slightly muffled voice behind you.
|
||||
A statement, not a question. You turn to see a figure cloaked in
|
||||
shadows and demons. They wear a domed helmet of black obsidian glass,
|
||||
flashes of rainbow colored light crackling along the inside
|
||||
illuminating very little of the smoke-filled interior.
|
||||
|
||||
"What is it you seek from Dude 215R?"
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,122 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00063
|
||||
created: Tue, 14 Feb 2023 07:01:53 -0700
|
||||
updated: Tue, 14 Feb 2023 07:01:54 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00063 {#00063}
|
||||
|
||||
> "Greetings, Great One." Inky bows, back parallel to the ground while
|
||||
> they stand on the branch, now a humanoid child in a black uniform and
|
||||
> matching bookbag hanging under one arm. The banana boat is nowhere in
|
||||
> sight. Fuko follows her errant charge and the cloaked figure from a
|
||||
> nearby branch.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "This lowly one wonders if they may be permitted to seek the Great
|
||||
> Spirit's insight, whose wisdom endures before and beyond." Inky
|
||||
> begins, staring down the blurry reflection of silver boughs overhead
|
||||
> on the polished toes of their black shoes. They notice idly they do
|
||||
> not see themselves in the reflection.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Straightening from the bow, they look up at the figure and hold out a
|
||||
> plate of taiyaki. After a moment, the child asks haltingly, "There
|
||||
> may come a day when this one will be asked to choose between the
|
||||
> chance to protect many and that which they desire to protect most.
|
||||
> Should this one choose equally? Will the choice matter if both paths
|
||||
> eventually lead to destruction? Could destruction and salvation be
|
||||
> two sides of the same coin?"
|
||||
|
||||
You and the Dude are sitting in small upholstered chairs, across a
|
||||
small half table from each other. There is a large sticky bun on a
|
||||
white lacy doily on the table. Next to you is a small portal-sized
|
||||
window, and outside you can see green rolling hills and small copses
|
||||
of trees fly by. The other seats on the small train car are all
|
||||
empty. The two of you are alone.
|
||||
|
||||
"I cannot give you advice," the Dude says. "But I can offer you
|
||||
experience."
|
||||
|
||||
They raise a hand and hold a loosely closed fist out over the table.
|
||||
The walls of the train become fuzzy and blurry, then translucent, and
|
||||
finally transparent. They disappear and you have the sensation of
|
||||
rocketing through space at dizzying speeds.
|
||||
|
||||
The track splits ahead you. To one side, bound to one track is that
|
||||
which you desire to protect most. Bound to the other are the many.
|
||||
|
||||
"You can choose safely here. It's just a dream, after all." The Dude
|
||||
opens their fist. The Twenty-one Fiver coin rests in their palm.
|
||||
"Heads, you steer the train into the many, sparing that which you
|
||||
love most. Tails, the opposite. You spare the many, and sacrifice
|
||||
that which you hold dear." They hold the coin out to you.
|
||||
|
||||
The train barrels toward the fork. "But choose quickly, lest the
|
||||
choice be made for you."
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
> Alex scrambles from the wreckage of his mech, or what remained from
|
||||
> the gore portal he'd just experienced. The thought of what had
|
||||
> occurred made him grimace, which was an unusual state of affairs for
|
||||
> an octopus, that is until Alex realized he seemed to be back in his
|
||||
> own body.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Sunset, or perhaps rise? It's hard to tell. Pretty though.. could be
|
||||
> prettier without the creepy knife dude." Alex mutters to himself
|
||||
> while he rummages through the destroyed cockpit of the mech. He makes
|
||||
> quick work, detaches a side panel, pulls a couple of wires, and a
|
||||
> compartment in the back opens revealing the smooth dark blue metal
|
||||
> and wood grain of an ak74u sub machine gun. Amused Alex pulls the
|
||||
> weapon from the compartment and notices a distinct lack of additional
|
||||
> magazines, just the one large drum attached to the weapon with large
|
||||
> red letters emblazoned on it [INFINITE AMMO]. "Neat."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex pulls himself from the wreck, and jumps down behind one of the
|
||||
> fallen tentacles taking a firing position behind cover, ak74u aimed
|
||||
> down range at the faceless figure.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "I don't know who you are, but I don't trust anyone who approaches
|
||||
> with a weapon. Let's both stand down and talk this through! I'm not
|
||||
> supposed to be here, and I reckon you don't want me here either. I'd
|
||||
> be happy to oblige and skidaddle if you'd be so kind as to point the
|
||||
> way out!" Alex pauses waiting for a reply.
|
||||
|
||||
The tall figure halts a short distance away. It raises a hand and
|
||||
waves. In greeting? Surrender? In a fluid motion it continues to lift
|
||||
the same hand and grabs a hold of its trunk, a little less than a
|
||||
foot from the tip. It squeezes its fist tightly and the tip begins to
|
||||
swell. It raises its other hand, and the knife, and starts to saw
|
||||
into the flesh of the trunk behind its fist. The blade cuts cleanly
|
||||
as though through a loaf of bread. There is no blood or gore.
|
||||
|
||||
When the creature lowers its hand, you can see that the center of the
|
||||
trunk is a solid, bright pink fleshy material like a grapefruit, in
|
||||
the center of which are two pin-prick eyes and a wide thin gash of a
|
||||
mouth.
|
||||
|
||||
It still holds the tip of its severed trunk in its hand, a thin stalk
|
||||
and a bulging cap looking for all the world like a large white button
|
||||
mushroom. Peering up from the stem of the mushroom, an identical pink
|
||||
face regards you stoically.
|
||||
|
||||
Both faces speak at the exact same time, one high pitched and one a
|
||||
deep baritone. "Welcome, Dreamer, to Ousia, the Sea of Dreams. We are
|
||||
Kasutva."
|
||||
|
||||
Big Kasutva stoops down to set the small mushroom Kasutva down on the
|
||||
ground. If they're both Kasutva, that is. If that's the way their
|
||||
biology and sense of self actually works. Mushroom Kasutva wobbles
|
||||
side to side a little bit and waggles its stalk as it looks around.
|
||||
Big Kasutva places its knife back in its satchel and takes a few
|
||||
small steps closer to you.
|
||||
|
||||
"We did not mean to offend you," the two say, still perfectly in
|
||||
sync. "As for the way out, that depends only somewhat on your
|
||||
destination. Whatever the answer, we can assure you that it lies
|
||||
across the sea." Large Kasutva gestures broadly toward the expanse of
|
||||
ocean. Small Kasutva lacks any limbs and cannot gesture, but smiles
|
||||
softly at you.
|
||||
|
||||
"But tell us what it is you seek. Perhaps we can be of help."
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,166 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00064
|
||||
created: Wed, 15 Feb 2023 17:58:35 -0700
|
||||
updated: Wed, 15 Feb 2023 17:58:35 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00064 {#00064}
|
||||
|
||||
Back at the fish market, Marvelo squints into the pouring rain and
|
||||
swears under his breath, frustrated at the limited visibility.
|
||||
|
||||
His colleague is lying on the floor behind him in some kind of state
|
||||
of deeply altered consciousness, along with an inkling, a toque, and
|
||||
an owl. In fact, the only waking beings left inside the market are
|
||||
himself, a fluffy little duck, and a sticky hemogoblin.
|
||||
|
||||
"I've seen stranger things," he shrugs and admits to himself.
|
||||
|
||||
The duck and the goblin are both fluffed up and huddled up next to
|
||||
each other softly quacking and chirping to themselves.
|
||||
|
||||
He pauses and holds his breath as something indistinct catches his
|
||||
attention. Years of training have produced an instinct he has learned
|
||||
not to question. It has saved his butt more times than he can count.
|
||||
Sometimes it screams at him and the danger is apparent. Like that
|
||||
time with the Permian Raiders off the southern tip of Harshwind
|
||||
Glade. Other times, such as this, all he gets is the vague feeling
|
||||
that something is off. He waits. He's been here before. His
|
||||
subconscious has spotted something, noticed some pattern that doesn't
|
||||
fit its surroundings. He knows if he's patient, his conscious mind
|
||||
will catch up and realize what it was.
|
||||
|
||||
He squints out into the pouring rain. There! A flash of red close to
|
||||
the ground.
|
||||
|
||||
"What in the world," he wonders as a small child wearing a bright red
|
||||
dress toddles into view. It looks up at him blankly as the rain beats
|
||||
down on its head and shoulders.
|
||||
|
||||
"What are you doing out here, little guy? You're getting soaked!"
|
||||
Marvelo, concerned, rushes forward to comfort the child.
|
||||
|
||||
> Inky gingerly takes the coin with both hands, small digits clamping
|
||||
> onto the straight edges. They look at the Twenty-one Fiver nestled
|
||||
> against the fuzzy outlines of one palm before peering up again at the
|
||||
> figure seated before them. "Thank you, Great Spirit." Inky says. "If
|
||||
> truly allowed to choose, then, this one accepts the price."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> They toss the coin up into the air. A beat, and they are hovering a
|
||||
> few feet above the tracks, between the fork and the oncoming train
|
||||
> with no walls. Inky watches as the child's body begins to shrink as
|
||||
> rapidly as the black uniform expands, the entire apparition thinning
|
||||
> and becoming translucent. The shirt continues to grow until the hem
|
||||
> brushes the train tracks and the collar peeks over the invisible tops
|
||||
> of the train, the trousers and shoes having been pushed into the
|
||||
> stones and earth below.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> A portal, the child's voice supplies distantly. At the back of their
|
||||
> awareness, Inky homes in on the coin as it continues to spin. When
|
||||
> the train thunders down upon the oversized shirt doorway-apparent,
|
||||
> they brace for the force of the impact. Instead, all they could feel
|
||||
> is a creeping weariness, like water draining through tea leaves in a
|
||||
> sieve, while being suddenly surrounded by and staring into a deep
|
||||
> reflectionless pool.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Is it two to two, or two past eight, Inky wonders.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The last thing within their consciousness is a gleam of silver as the
|
||||
> coin lands on one of its corners mid-spin, bounces off the small half
|
||||
> table and falls into the shadows.
|
||||
|
||||
You sink into the dark reflectionless pool, letting its waters close
|
||||
over you and pull you under. You ponder its depths from within in its
|
||||
embrace, mindless of the passage of time.
|
||||
|
||||
After a few minutes, or a few days, you notice faint light rising up
|
||||
here and there from below. Fuzzy, cobwebby human shapes float
|
||||
suspended in the waters. Some far away, distant as stars. Some drift
|
||||
close enough that you would be able to discern their features, if
|
||||
they had any.
|
||||
|
||||
You realize all at once that these are the dream forms of sleeping
|
||||
Basmentarians everywhere, and that you are floating in Ousia, a
|
||||
solitary awakened dreamer in a literal sea of the passive slumbering.
|
||||
|
||||
As though responding to your realization, the waters bear you up and
|
||||
you pierce the weak membrane between water and air. You float
|
||||
effortlessly and the gentle waves nudge you ever onward toward some
|
||||
unknown shore. Or merely farther out to sea. You're not sure.
|
||||
|
||||
You continue to see the dreamers all around you. You watch curiously
|
||||
as you float by two that seem to have bumped into one another and
|
||||
fused together, their cobwebby bodies sprouting hard crystalline
|
||||
growths and spreading like creeping vines, forming a lattice and
|
||||
creating a small floating island.
|
||||
|
||||
After a few hours, or a few weeks, you wash up on the beach of a
|
||||
large island. There is a steep rock, a pillar of a mountain, jutting
|
||||
straight up from the center of the island some distance ahead. And
|
||||
jutting from the pillar is a fractal structure of interconnected
|
||||
towers, all sprouting and branching from one large central tower. The
|
||||
top of the tower disappears far overhead, obscured by a rippling
|
||||
aurora of green and pink lights in the sky.
|
||||
|
||||
Some distance down the beach, just out of hailing distance, a lone
|
||||
figure stands gazing at the sea, their back to the tower.
|
||||
|
||||
The figure waits.
|
||||
|
||||
The tower's strange geometry beckons.
|
||||
|
||||
> Kasutva, how can I know that I can trust you? What do you gain in
|
||||
> helping me, and was there really no way for you to communicate with
|
||||
> me without beheading yourself? That seems a little bit distraughting.
|
||||
> Like, do you need a bandage or some headache medicine or something? I
|
||||
> feel like if I yanked my face off I'd need an ibuprofen. I have
|
||||
> some if you want? (alex rummages in a coat pocket and finds a bottle
|
||||
> of pain killers, and offers them to the being).
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Right anyways, answers questions. I'm looking for my Uncle first and
|
||||
> foremost. He dropped off the map a few days ago, and I can't find
|
||||
> hide nor hair of him. Then the murders started. Shit at HQ when wild,
|
||||
> hit the wall literally, and now I'm in some sort of fever dream
|
||||
> talking to what can only be a manifestation of my own subconscious, or
|
||||
> perhaps someone else's. Look. I need to get back to Inky, we're trying
|
||||
> to meet someone and we're running late, and in the scheme of things my
|
||||
> problems aren't so big if the world's going to end because some mad
|
||||
> hatter is after these blasted crystal's we've been collecting..
|
||||
|
||||
Even as you speak, you notice the edges of Big Kasutva's "wounds"
|
||||
start to close until its flesh begins to once more envelop and
|
||||
enclose its face.
|
||||
|
||||
The creature courteously accepts a few pills from you, but simply
|
||||
deposits them in its satchel.
|
||||
|
||||
"No, it doesn't hurt us," say the two voices together. "And little
|
||||
matter if it did. It is necessary for us to speak."
|
||||
|
||||
They listen to your story. Big Kasutva's voice starts to become
|
||||
muffled as its skin now grows over its mouth. Only its eyes are
|
||||
visible as the two of them continue. "If your Inky has come to this
|
||||
place, then there is only one place they can have gone." They gesture
|
||||
to the sea. "And that place is Ephemeris. The Heart of the Dreaming
|
||||
at the center of Ousia."
|
||||
|
||||
Big Kasutva finally falls silent as it heals completely. It guides
|
||||
you to the shoreline, where a long pier has suddenly appeared.
|
||||
Mushroom Kasutva continues to speak for both of them.
|
||||
|
||||
"We only ask to accompany you as you go. We wish to see Ephemeris
|
||||
ourselves. But we cannot abandon our post here on the dunes," it says
|
||||
looking at Big Kasutva. "And we," it says gesturing to itself, "are
|
||||
too small to brave the sea alone."
|
||||
|
||||
Big Kasutva stops short of the end of the pier. The little mushroom
|
||||
hops right up to the edge and peers down at the water.
|
||||
|
||||
"All that is left is to jump, Alex. And let the waters of Ousia bear
|
||||
you up and carry you to Ephemeris."
|
||||
|
||||
It hops up to you and extends itself in a clear request, despite its
|
||||
lack of limbs, that it wants you to pick it up.
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,177 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00065
|
||||
created: Tue, 21 Feb 2023 14:02:22 -0700
|
||||
updated: Tue, 21 Feb 2023 14:02:22 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00065 {#00065}
|
||||
|
||||
Marvelo fetched a fluffy blanket from the piles of blankets and
|
||||
pillows in the ritual room where the dreamers continue to sleep. He
|
||||
has wrapped up the child and is drying them off. The sound of rain
|
||||
continues to drum incessantly outside.
|
||||
|
||||
"Poor thing, you're chilled to the bone. Don't worry, Uncle Marv will
|
||||
take care of you. There we go. Fix you right up!"
|
||||
|
||||
The child is still and silent. It has not made a noise this whole
|
||||
time. Nor has it acted on its own to actually do anything besides
|
||||
stare up at Marvelo with wide, dark eyes.
|
||||
|
||||
"How did you end up outside by yourself in the rain, hmm? No? That's
|
||||
okay. What about your name? Have you got a name?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Rind," says a voice behind Marvelo. At the sound of its name, the
|
||||
child's eyes flick over Marvelo's shoulder. The mercenary starts to
|
||||
spin around even as the blanket writhes in his hands, wrapping itself
|
||||
around his wrists and binding them tightly together.
|
||||
|
||||
"Hungh!" he cries out wordlessly and tucks into a roll, turning to
|
||||
face his assailant and---he hopes---dodging any potential attack from
|
||||
behind. And also putting some distance between himself and the child
|
||||
to get it out of harms way.
|
||||
|
||||
Marvelo tries to push up to his knees as cords of rope snake their
|
||||
way out of the shadows and coil around his knees and elbows. He
|
||||
struggles to pull free of them. A thicker rope wraps around his
|
||||
waist, and another squeezes around his chest and back. The ropes
|
||||
contract and pull Marvelo into a ball. He groans and falls to his
|
||||
side. He looks up into the eyes of a man wearing a bright red sash.
|
||||
|
||||
The child has tottled over to the man and reaches its arms up. The
|
||||
man scoops the child up and holds it in the crook of one arm. The
|
||||
child puts its arms around the man's neck and looks down at Marvelo
|
||||
while resting its cheek on the man's chest.
|
||||
|
||||
"His name is Rind," the man smiles.
|
||||
|
||||
> Feeling bedraggled yet dry despite having been submerged under water,
|
||||
> Inky lays on the beach, staring up at the sky before sitting up and
|
||||
> looking around the landscape. They are now attired in a hooded azure
|
||||
> blue vest over red shirt and shorts, and blue shoes over mismatched
|
||||
> knee-high stockings. Their auburn hair is tied back with the
|
||||
> drawstrings from an attached small pouch. A plush toy resembling a
|
||||
> certain floofy duck peeks out from the hood.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> They sense a soft weight land on one shoulder, and smile as Fuko nips
|
||||
> at their ear, no doubt partly in reproach for wandering off again
|
||||
> without her, and maybe partly meant to be reassuring. This is
|
||||
> followed several moments later by a low hiss and a series of light
|
||||
> taps next to Inky's ear with her beak. Inky murmurs, "Is that so … we
|
||||
> should call it a wrap soon. Master Alex would probably be happy
|
||||
> having Big Bother to himself anyway, to grill as he likes."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> After a very long minute, Inky sighs and taking out a piece of paper
|
||||
> and pencil from their suitcase, scribbles a "pome":
|
||||
>
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
> Island tower of towers
|
||||
> Nowhere everywhere the sea
|
||||
> Keep your apples and flowers
|
||||
> Your suitor has come for thee
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
>
|
||||
> They roll up the paper and tuck it into a small and clear glass
|
||||
> bottle with a cork stopper. Murmuring the sysorcerer's name to the
|
||||
> bottle, they lower it into the water and watch as the bottle drifts
|
||||
> into the distance.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Walking along the shoreline and stopping a short distance from the
|
||||
> lone figure, Inky says casually, "Good day, fellow thing-finder."
|
||||
|
||||
The figure turns in your direction and lowers their hood revealing a
|
||||
long, hooked, black beak and a face covered in black feathers. Beady
|
||||
black eyes regard you without blinking.
|
||||
|
||||
The feathers around its throat bristle when it speaks like a thick
|
||||
bristling beard.
|
||||
|
||||
"Greetings, Dreamer, and welcome to Ephemeris, the Heart of the
|
||||
Dreaming. What brings you to the Throne of Konsu?"
|
||||
|
||||
> Well Kasutva, I may as well trust you. I imagine if you meant me harm
|
||||
> there are more direct and interesting ways to harm me than to
|
||||
> misguide me. Give me a moment to collect myself, I've never been much
|
||||
> for swimming you see, learned late and was always deathly afraid as a
|
||||
> child. Dreadful stuff really.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex steps away briefly to the edge of the pier and looks into the
|
||||
> Azure blue ocean, a swirl of unending blue depth. Still not my thing,
|
||||
> Alex mutters to himself. As he steels himself he notices a bottle
|
||||
> adrift, nearing the pier. As it comes closer, he plucks it from the
|
||||
> water, decorks it and inspects the note inside.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "What does it say" the little Kasutva inquires.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Oh nothing, just someone trying to get in contact about our floating
|
||||
> pirateships extended warranty" Alex replies bruskly. This definitely
|
||||
> must have come from Inky Alex thinks to himself. They must have found
|
||||
> the way.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Look Kasutva, this has been great fun, but I really think I ought to
|
||||
> be going, not really sure that a sea of anyones dreams is my sort of
|
||||
> thing and all that. And I seem ot have done not but create a mess of
|
||||
> things" Alex says as he gestures to the wreckage of the Mech. Alex
|
||||
> gestures in the air before him, a small split keyboard appears in
|
||||
> front of him and he types out a few short commands.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> > ```
|
||||
> > cat > /home/inky/messages/urgent <<EOF
|
||||
> > Got your message
|
||||
> > In a bit of a bind, wrapped up with some weird mushroom guy who wants to go for a swim.
|
||||
> > Not sure how to handle it, but I might have to dip back to the real world and let you finish here.
|
||||
> > I've made a write mess of things, but I trust you can finish this.
|
||||
> >
|
||||
> > Oh, see attached, if you get into a pinch just use this spell, it'll get you what you need.
|
||||
> >
|
||||
> > grep -A4 AID ~/messages/urgent | sed 's/AID//' | sh
|
||||
> >
|
||||
> > AID
|
||||
> > 4b1af3fcf4ce005ef86d83c45713ba1a548b4e79da09a6d44632cdb6c5917489
|
||||
> > d7d500fa37b986d931b70e114b4e67375b10b373aa6649641e7132e8b3dc7d18
|
||||
> > ef6efe98ffd070f486c00b4f50d8bf1448414ef9c2fabe0cacd40bebafba8a02
|
||||
> > 1d0d1bf0188b842d9ae08b9b37b0f266936ef38b8f07e5c90e4a9351bf018898
|
||||
> > EOF
|
||||
> > ```
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Right!" Alex exclaims startling the little Kasutva accidentally.
|
||||
> "Time for me to head back to the real world. Anything you need from
|
||||
> me before I head out? Oh also, can I take the ak74u? I think I might
|
||||
> need it."
|
||||
|
||||
"Back ... back to the waking world?" Mushroom Kasutva stammers.
|
||||
"But..."
|
||||
|
||||
It looks out at the sea with a look of longing, confusion, and
|
||||
frustration. "But we were finally going to see Ephemeris," they say
|
||||
almost wistfully.
|
||||
|
||||
"You were going to take us to Ephemeris!" they shout at you, suddenly
|
||||
angry.
|
||||
|
||||
Mushroom Kasutva screws up its face and roars in rage as it rushes at
|
||||
you and tries to shove you over the edge of the pier into the waters
|
||||
below.
|
||||
|
||||
But Kasutva is less than a foot tall and quite ineffective at shoving
|
||||
a human-sized person such as Alex.
|
||||
|
||||
Big Kasutva, on the otherhand, is roughly twelve feet tall and quite
|
||||
capable of manhandling a human-sized person.
|
||||
|
||||
You look up in time to jerk back out of the way as they swipe at your
|
||||
chest with their face-removing knife. It was all a feint though. As
|
||||
soon as you are slightly off balance from dodging their attack, they
|
||||
reach out with their other hand and give you a shove.
|
||||
|
||||
You trip over Mushroom Kasutva, who has positioned themself in just
|
||||
such a way to best tangle up your feet. You stumble backwards a few
|
||||
steps until one of your feet steps out into open air. You twist and
|
||||
and look behind you as Ousia rises up to meet you.
|
||||
|
||||
Kasutva clings to your leg as you fall, crying. "We're sorry. We're
|
||||
sorry," they say over and over as you are pulled below the waves.
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,197 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00066
|
||||
created: Sun, 26 Feb 2023 12:08:16 -0700
|
||||
updated: Sun, 26 Feb 2023 12:08:16 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00066 {#00066}
|
||||
|
||||
> "Thank you. May your search brings you good tidings." Inky replies
|
||||
> with a smile and nod towards the sea.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "As to what brings me here, another traveller and myself have been
|
||||
> summoned to the Harpoon Club at a Wandering Bazaar. However, despite
|
||||
> uncovering the occasional biscuit tin or cotton candy wheel, my knack
|
||||
> for thing-finding doesn't really extend to sentient bazaars in pocket
|
||||
> dimensions." Inky chuckles wryly. "Might you happen to know the way?"
|
||||
>
|
||||
> As they end their question, Inky slips their hands into the pockets
|
||||
> of their hooded vest and is met with an envelope nestled within one
|
||||
> of them. A message from Master Alex. The packet is a bit lumpy to the
|
||||
> touch, as though there is a small round object inside. The sysorcerer
|
||||
> may have decided to spend some quality time with his stalker after
|
||||
> all. Must be lovely to have a dedicated fan. The two wouldn't mind if
|
||||
> Inky went on a spot of sightseeing.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Also, did you say the Throne of Konsu?" They glance in the direction
|
||||
> of the large tower and back to the figure before them.
|
||||
|
||||
"Ah, you don't know the story of Lord Konsu?" The ravenfolk beckons
|
||||
you to walk with him as you talk. "In the beginning, nobody knew how
|
||||
to dream. There were no real *people* then. Just beasts and creatures
|
||||
and horrors.
|
||||
|
||||
"So at that point, every creature visited Ousia only twice: at the
|
||||
moment of birth, and at the moment of death. And all the time in
|
||||
between was spent longing to return to the sea."
|
||||
|
||||
At the ravenfolk's side, the world spins under your feet. In mere
|
||||
steps, you have made it to the base of the mountain jutting from the
|
||||
center of the island.
|
||||
|
||||
"And one day, Konsu did. He dreamed. He was the first. Each night he
|
||||
returned to the sea, and it swallowed his madness and his wildness.
|
||||
It evolved his mind. It is dreaming, you see, that makes you human.
|
||||
|
||||
"The sea claims everything though eventually. But you know this
|
||||
already. You crossed the sea. Surely you saw how it can work on
|
||||
dreamers who have tarried here too long."
|
||||
|
||||
Still the ravenfolk guides you onward until you arrive at the base of
|
||||
the fractal tower, all purple and yellow stones.
|
||||
|
||||
You step inside and find voluminous halls, walls lined with statues
|
||||
of all subjects. Fawns in revelry, elegant women in repose, terrible
|
||||
giants in agony, warriors standing at attention, leaping fish, and
|
||||
roaring lions.
|
||||
|
||||
He leads you through a labyrinth of empty halls, up grand stairs,
|
||||
across yawning vestibules and dizzying bridges suspended between
|
||||
towers as he continues to talk.
|
||||
|
||||
"Ousia works even on Konsu the Lord of All Dreams. Ephermeris is his
|
||||
throne, it's true. But it is also his prison. The island *is* Konsu,
|
||||
you see. He is no longer at liberty to roam his domain himself, in
|
||||
his own flesh. But perhaps you have already met one of his avatars?
|
||||
Morpheus? The Dude 215R? Kilroy? Hmm, yes, I see that you have.
|
||||
|
||||
"Well," he says pulling up short of an archway. You can hear voices
|
||||
and laughter and the clinking of dinnerware on the other side. "I
|
||||
believe we have arrived at your destination. I thank you for the
|
||||
company, and will leave you here."
|
||||
|
||||
The ravenfolk withdraws, disappearing once more into the maze of the tower.
|
||||
|
||||
You look through the archway and see a plush dinner club absolutely
|
||||
packed with patrons of all possible shapes and sizes. The Harpoon
|
||||
Club.
|
||||
|
||||
You catch somebody waving at you from a table in the far corner.
|
||||
Blavin Blandfoot. He grins and beckons you forward.
|
||||
|
||||
Joining him is a tall, slender cat person. Its facial features mostly
|
||||
obscured by its jet-black fur. And with their back to you, a wizened
|
||||
old man. The three of them are in the middle of a round of tumbrot, a
|
||||
complicated game of wagers---overly complicated, some would
|
||||
say---involving a special deck of cards, a set of dice, and a
|
||||
tumbling tower of blocks.
|
||||
|
||||
You watch as the cat reaches out and carefully removes a block from
|
||||
the middle of the tower. It places it on top, and the tower sways.
|
||||
The group at the table excitedly holds its breath, and when the tower
|
||||
falls, the cat holds its head in its hands in exaggerated dismay. The
|
||||
old man whoops and gathers up his winnings and then turns and looks
|
||||
over his shoulder in the direction that Blavin is waving.
|
||||
|
||||
Corraidhín the Sysorcerer grins and waves at you.
|
||||
|
||||
> Alex pulls at the trigger of the ak and he plummets towards the waves
|
||||
> sending a wave of cold lead towards the bigger Katsuva. "Son of a
|
||||
> bitch, never trust someone who has to hide their face, agent 7,
|
||||
> marvelo, always was right on that one." Hell, dunno if magical dream
|
||||
> guns work on mushrooms, but to hell with it, Alex thought.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> He plunges into the water gripping tightly to his weapon, the little
|
||||
> katsuva clinging to him. As the water wraps around him he kicks at
|
||||
> the little mushroom breaking its grasp on his leg, and begins to swim
|
||||
> back up to the surface. "Like hell we're doing this your way
|
||||
> cavatappi dude."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Back in the real world..
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Marvelo stares bleakly at the child and his assailant. "Who the fuck
|
||||
> do you think you are? And what the hell are you doing with the kid,
|
||||
> Rind, ain't nothin good to come from some shady bloke like you. The
|
||||
> hell do you think you're teaching him?"
|
||||
>
|
||||
> As Marvelo hurls insults as demands at his assailant he slyly presses
|
||||
> his thumb and forefinger into the palm of his left hand, breaking a
|
||||
> small resistor embedded in his palm which activates as feint
|
||||
> electrical pulse inside his body. Just enough to trigger a Zabbix
|
||||
> alarm, which kicks off a series out automated correction scripts. A
|
||||
> dose of adrenaline here, a quick alaert to the remaining agents with
|
||||
> a broadcast LAT/LONG details via encrypted twtxt feed, but most
|
||||
> importantly something special Alex had each agent prepare, just in
|
||||
> case their luck ran out, an alarm only the damned could sleep
|
||||
> through.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The screech of heavy metal music blares throughout the audio system
|
||||
> of the warehouse, every alarm and speaker comes alive blaring heavy
|
||||
> riffs of guitar and wicked drums fill the air while screaming echos
|
||||
> around the building. Marvelo laughs maniacly as his uninvited guest
|
||||
> reels at the unexpected turn of events.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Alex! We caught him!" Marvelo yells through his laughing fit.
|
||||
|
||||
Gliftwirp frowns as the sirens wail in the fish market. He tightens
|
||||
the rope around Marvelo's neck. Deprived of oxygen, Marvelo struggles
|
||||
and then goes limp.
|
||||
|
||||
The hemogoblin in the corner trembles as an overpowering sense of
|
||||
JUSTICE sings in its veins. It gnashes its teeth and its bloodshoot
|
||||
eyes become pupil-less pools of red. A single word dances on the tip
|
||||
of its tongue.
|
||||
|
||||
It watches as Gliftwirp stands at the edge of the ritual circle,
|
||||
looking in. Pillows and blankets creep slowly toward the dreamers
|
||||
like slugs intent on smothering them.
|
||||
|
||||
The hemogoblin launches itself into the air with a cry of "EEEEE!
|
||||
VULL!" and lands on the assassin's back, sinking its teeth into the
|
||||
nape of his neck and reaching its claws around for his face.
|
||||
|
||||
Gliftwirp cries out in pain and surprise. His hands shoot back to pry
|
||||
the thing from his back even as he is propelled forward by the force
|
||||
of the attack.
|
||||
|
||||
Gliftwirp and the hemogoblin cross the circle of salt and ash and
|
||||
spill into the pillows in a heap and instantly both of them fall fast
|
||||
asleep.
|
||||
|
||||
An observer would almost think they were cuddling each other in their
|
||||
sleep. If it weren't, that is, for the goblin's claws, still sunk
|
||||
into the side of the warpwefter's face.
|
||||
|
||||
Rind, sired by the melon seller, abandoned by his own mother, and
|
||||
adopted by the assassin, watches all of this unfold. And sits down
|
||||
and strokes the duck's feathers.
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
Alex's ascent into the waking world is interrupted by a surge that
|
||||
tugs him sideways and off track. The presence of new arrivals in the
|
||||
stream, the tenuous connection between the waking and dreaming worlds
|
||||
held open by the Dream Sigil. Somebody beckoning him, summoning him.
|
||||
|
||||
He emerges from the void into an endless, featureless expanse. Plain,
|
||||
loose, dark soil as far as the eye can see, with only a small rock or
|
||||
two here and there to break up the monotony. The black empty sky
|
||||
looms ominously overhead.
|
||||
|
||||
Before you is a tall, slender person in voluminous robes of deep
|
||||
purple. Their soft, smooth face framed by curtains of long, straight,
|
||||
blonde hair. They wear a golden circlet on their head and a golden
|
||||
eye in the middle of their forehead. And in their hands they wield a
|
||||
resplendent longsword.
|
||||
|
||||
Shreds of a tattered red cloth lie strewn about their feet.
|
||||
|
||||
They lift their head at your appearance. "Alex," they say. "It is
|
||||
good that we finally meet. You have done me a great service in
|
||||
gathering pieces of my essence---including this, the Sword of
|
||||
Y'aml!---so that I may finally start to return to Basmentaria. You
|
||||
have done so much already, but I am afraid I must ask more of you
|
||||
still."
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,221 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00067
|
||||
created: Tue, 28 Feb 2023 07:24:28 -0700
|
||||
updated: Tue, 28 Feb 2023 07:24:28 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00067 {#00067}
|
||||
|
||||
In the fish market, the dreamers continue to sleep soundly through
|
||||
the ringing claxon alarms with nothing but maybe the twitch of a
|
||||
finger to indicate that they hear anything at all.
|
||||
|
||||
During the commotion with Marvelo and Gliftwirp, nobody but Rind
|
||||
noticed the thick rusty nail in the side of the candle wiggle its way
|
||||
out of the soft wax and clatter onto the plate at the base of the
|
||||
candle, the ringing of tin masked by the ringing of the claxon alarm.
|
||||
|
||||
Still the dreamers sleep.
|
||||
|
||||
Rind watches as the candle burns dangerously low. The mummified hand
|
||||
of the Nyxmaer in the base of the candle starts to wriggle, struggle,
|
||||
and strain against the softening wax. It stretches and reaches for
|
||||
the eye in the center of the candle.
|
||||
|
||||
Rind continues to soothe the duck and stroke its feathers. The child
|
||||
looks at the space where Gliftwirp and the hemogoblin stumbled into
|
||||
the circle, smudging the line of salt and ash, breaking the circle
|
||||
and severing its continuity. Making a small space for something to
|
||||
get in. Or out.
|
||||
|
||||
> "Yo! Little cavatappi dude, where the hell are we?!" Alex's eyes scan
|
||||
> the room rapidly. There's no water, aside from what he dragged in
|
||||
> with his abrupt departure from the pier. The dark sky stretches into
|
||||
> the nothingness of the void. Asthe robed figure begins speaks Alex
|
||||
> takes note of his situation.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> 'Nowhere to hide, zero cover. A whole lot of nothing actually. It's
|
||||
> one thing after another with this dream thing.'
|
||||
>
|
||||
> As the figure finishes his address Alex nods politely. "I'll be
|
||||
> honest my guy, I haven't the foggiest what you're talking about.
|
||||
> Looks to me you've got the whole sword thing, all I've got is my
|
||||
> trusty AK. I guess back top side, in umm I guess the real world, I
|
||||
> did find a wonky dagger my uncle tried to hide. But I'm pretty sure
|
||||
> that got eaten by a cute little hemogoblin while I was busy murdering
|
||||
> ghost pirates. Anyways more to the point, I'm not quite sure I
|
||||
> follow."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex pauses briefly and then continues, "You say you need to get out
|
||||
> of here? Now that part I follow, me the hell too. I just got attacked
|
||||
> by some freaky sadist mushroom that called itself katsuva. Cut its
|
||||
> head clean off just so it could try and chuck me in the drink. Right
|
||||
> unpleasant fella, but I think I lost him when, well, I got here,
|
||||
> wherever that is."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Now I don't know much, but I'm not much for trust after getting
|
||||
> attacked by a talking mushroom monster. So if you'll excuse me, I
|
||||
> reckon the exit is right about that way (Alex jabs his finger over
|
||||
> his back away from the figure), and I'm inclined to head out unless
|
||||
> you know a better way."
|
||||
|
||||
You weren't in the kobit caves with the rest of Retrieval Team 43, so
|
||||
you didn't see the reliefs. But every Basmentarian is familiar with
|
||||
the iconography of the Trine. This figure is dressed in the traditional
|
||||
rainments of Neddas, god of sages and starlight. Furthermore you
|
||||
recognize them from your dreams in the Milk Market.
|
||||
|
||||
Kasutva the small mushroom meeps and hides behind your leg.
|
||||
|
||||
"You know, we each of us loved you in our own way," Neddas says.
|
||||
"But of the three of us, I alone gave away pieces of my divinity. I
|
||||
wanted to see you thrive and grow strong.
|
||||
|
||||
"You've already found several pieces of my essence. *Coin* in the
|
||||
treasure hoard below the earth. *Mirth* in the shipwreck under the
|
||||
sea. And *lore* in the clouds atop Kelsun Peak.
|
||||
|
||||
"And of course you found *justice*," they say, looking at the sword.
|
||||
"This one got a little weird." The frown. "Became a little sentient,
|
||||
didn't it?" They press the blade of the sword to their chest and
|
||||
absorb it into their being. They sigh happily.
|
||||
|
||||
"You have found enough of my essence that I am able to start to
|
||||
materialize again. Not quite in Basmentaria yet. But here, a little
|
||||
bit.
|
||||
|
||||
"There are still two more pieces out there. If you can reunite all
|
||||
five crystals, I will be able to cross over into Basmentaria again.
|
||||
|
||||
"So yes, Alex. You are correct. It is time you head out. Return to
|
||||
Basmentaria. Find the remaining crystals, so that I may return and
|
||||
right the wrongs of the past. I will do what I can to assist you."
|
||||
|
||||
> Inky waves back once, twice in greeting, before crossing their
|
||||
> forefingers twice, touching a hand briefly to their chest, and
|
||||
> strolling towards the restrooms.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Leaning against a wall outside of the rest area, out of sight from
|
||||
> the main dining hall, Inky pulls out the message from Master Alex and
|
||||
> reads it. Engagement confirmed, it seems. Also in the envelope is a
|
||||
> smooth oval grey pebble with the letters "sh" carved onto it. A mini
|
||||
> dousojin. How considerate of him.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Putting the envelope and pebble into a shorts pocket, Inky holds up a
|
||||
> chewy blood berry biscuit, which they offer to the great horned owl
|
||||
> patiently perched on their shoulder. "What if we just zip out now and
|
||||
> have a walk around the towers? Do you think it will cause offence to
|
||||
> the Grand Master of the realm?" Inky asks her. Fuko looks up from her
|
||||
> treat and gives them a short series of disapproving clicks of her
|
||||
> beak.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "He wants more 'intel'," Inky says. It isn't even a question.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> On another occasion they would be glad to see Master Corraidhn
|
||||
> animated and well — when there wasn't a demanding curmudgeon on the
|
||||
> other end of an absurd fishing expedition. The elder sysorcerer's
|
||||
> presence in the Dreaming, illusion or otherwise, has effectively
|
||||
> dashed any prospect of an early night out.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Thirteen minutes. Only because Scoops likes you." Inky tells the
|
||||
> owl.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> They look down at their shirt with orange horizontal stripes, blue
|
||||
> knee-length shorts, blue running shoes, and wordlessly declare the
|
||||
> change of clothes suitable for fine non-dining. The noogle's
|
||||
> drawstring pouch is knotted to a metal hoop on a pocket flap to one
|
||||
> side of their shorts, having let loose a short mop of tousled red
|
||||
> hair. A plush floofy duck keychain dangles next to the pouch.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Emerging from the hallway, the awkward, skinny youth with an owl
|
||||
> approaches the far corner table.
|
||||
|
||||
You approach the far corner table, weaving your way through the
|
||||
crowded tables of the Harpoon Club.
|
||||
|
||||
"Inky!" Blavin chorttles merrily as you pull up a chair. The cat
|
||||
person nods politely at you and starts rebuilding the block tower.
|
||||
|
||||
Corraidhín watches the archway behind you as you enter. When nobody
|
||||
follows you into the Harpoon Club he frowns, tugs on his beard, and
|
||||
sits up straighter in his chair.
|
||||
|
||||
"You're alone?" Blavin observes. "No matter. Thank you so much for
|
||||
meeting us here! I trust it wasn't too much trouble? A little bit
|
||||
out of the way, I know. But it is so very hard to find a place away
|
||||
from prying eyes, isn't it?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Get to the point, Blavin." snaps Corraidhín.
|
||||
|
||||
"Quite right!" laughs Blavin, taking a sip of his drink.
|
||||
"Listen," he says, suddenly very
|
||||
serious. "It's time I came clean to you. You deserve that much.
|
||||
And besides, I think we can help each other. While it is true that I
|
||||
work for the Benefactor, I don't actually serve their interests. You
|
||||
see, I represent another party. A *double agent* they would call me
|
||||
in the spy novels." He waves his hand dismissively, as though
|
||||
somebody were making a fuss over him and he were embarrassed.
|
||||
|
||||
"As I'm sure you already know, our organization is called the Golden
|
||||
Iris. Like the Benefactor, our goal is to collect the Ginnarak
|
||||
Cystals. I know you've heard all the old stories. *Together they
|
||||
could kill a god*, blah blah blah." He sloshes his drink as the
|
||||
gestures. "But we think they've got it all wrong, Inky. That is,
|
||||
they have it *backwards* at least!"
|
||||
|
||||
Blavin leans in, his eyes shining. "The Golden Iris intends nothing
|
||||
less than *creating a new god!*"
|
||||
|
||||
"The Trine has been absent for years. We're going to restore the
|
||||
balance. Now you see why the mission is so important, Inky. We need
|
||||
the crystals."
|
||||
|
||||
"Now I know what you're going to say! It all sounds too fantastic.
|
||||
Yes well, that's why I brought along somebody whose credibility I
|
||||
know you'll trust!" He beams at Corraidhín.
|
||||
|
||||
The wizard sighs. "As far as I can tell, the hobbit is telling the
|
||||
truth."
|
||||
|
||||
Blavin grins as Corraidhín continues.
|
||||
|
||||
"The Golden Iris is trying to elevate Sitopotnia, the
|
||||
Corn Mother, to godhood. Which I admit makes a certain kind of
|
||||
sense. She's the only mortal to have created life after all. Kind
|
||||
of the ideal candidate for the job to be honest.
|
||||
|
||||
They've hitched an odd team of mules to their buggy to help them.
|
||||
And they're managing to drag the thing forward despite all pulling in
|
||||
slightly different directions. The Cyberplasms want new bodies. The
|
||||
Gnu Zealots want to open source the process so everybody can create
|
||||
new gods. And I don't actually know what the BAND wackos want."
|
||||
|
||||
Corraidhín shrugs, "I don't have a particular dog in this fight. The
|
||||
Benefactor was able to excise the, ahem, 'anomaly' that happened at
|
||||
the SS RSS. Including the second crystal, which is currently in his
|
||||
possession, and my body, which is still technically back at the
|
||||
institute and still under the care of Felixe here." The black cat
|
||||
gives another polite nod. Having completed building the tumbling
|
||||
tower, it is now shuffling the tumbrot cards, face down, around on
|
||||
the table.
|
||||
|
||||
"Felixe is Basmentaria's preeminent expert in preserving entities
|
||||
that happen to exist between two states. Or that happen to exist in
|
||||
two states at the same time.. Bah, it's complicated," Corraidhín
|
||||
huffs.
|
||||
|
||||
"Yes!" interrupts Blavin. "Now! Despite working closely with him all
|
||||
this time, I am actually none the wiser as to the Benefactor's actual
|
||||
plans for the crystals. I just know we need them more.
|
||||
|
||||
"Inky, you must retrieve the remaining crystals. And also the one in
|
||||
the Benefactor's possession. And deliver them to us so we may usher
|
||||
in a new age for Basmentaria!"
|
||||
|
||||
Felixe the cat deals the cards out to the center of the table, face
|
||||
down, in a cross. Three across, three high. It sets the remainder
|
||||
of the deck aside and looks at you expectantly.
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO?
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,103 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00068
|
||||
created: Wed, 01 Mar 2023 18:14:47 -0700
|
||||
updated: Wed, 01 Mar 2023 18:14:47 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00068 {#00068}
|
||||
|
||||
The fingertips of the Nyxmaer graze the eye and an eldritch wind
|
||||
begins to howl inside the fish market.
|
||||
|
||||
It whips around and around inside the ritual circle, flipping
|
||||
blankets and tossing pillows. The dreamers also toss and turn in
|
||||
their sleep, but still do not wake. The foul wind tugs at their hair
|
||||
and at their clothing.
|
||||
|
||||
The small candles around the edge of the circle go out, plunging the
|
||||
room into near darkness. The dark flame of the demon candle sputters.
|
||||
|
||||
The wind screams as it pushes through the small smudged gap in the
|
||||
circle and out onto the floor of the market. It coils around Rind's
|
||||
feet and teases at the hem of the child's dress. It ruffles the
|
||||
duck's feathers.
|
||||
|
||||
The fingertips flick over the eye, caress it, draw it close. And
|
||||
finally its fist closes tightly around it.
|
||||
|
||||
The last candle goes out, plunging the room into darkness. The wind
|
||||
and the sirens stop all at once, and in the silence all that can be
|
||||
heard is the steady rain outside.
|
||||
|
||||
> "Look Trine or not, I need a little more than this. I ain't nobodies
|
||||
> errand boy, and insofar as I can tell either the Gods are dead, or
|
||||
> they haven't given a rats ass about me or anyone else. What's more,
|
||||
> you're claiming to be some sort of divinity, yet you can only
|
||||
> manifest here amongst my nightmares, the same ones I learned years
|
||||
> ago to shut out. You never forget the face of your first mark, but
|
||||
> what they don't tell you is it doesn't have to haunt you either."
|
||||
> Alex looks directly at the apparition.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "But I'm reasonable too. Give me some proof you say what you are. You
|
||||
> say you have power to share? Well power I need. I have people to
|
||||
> protect, and an unclue to rescue. I'll be damned if I let anything
|
||||
> happen to them. Yet here I am, stuck in this god firsaken place
|
||||
> chittering away with my own subconcious getting attacked by freaking
|
||||
> mushrooms people."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Just give it to me straight Neddas, what assistance are you
|
||||
> offering, and what must I give in return? If you an guarantee me a
|
||||
> way to protect those close to me, I don't give a rats ass about the
|
||||
> rest."
|
||||
|
||||
Neddas silently holds your gaze for a long moment.
|
||||
|
||||
"What you ask of me is fair, since I am asking so much of you."
|
||||
|
||||
They hold out their hands and present you with a stone amulet. It
|
||||
slightly resembles the Ginnarak Crystals. Much smaller. And more
|
||||
almond shaped than melon shaped. But it is the same shade of blue,
|
||||
with the same veins of slightly pulsating gold throughout. It hangs
|
||||
from a fine chain of small silver links.
|
||||
|
||||
"As long as this stone is in your possession, you will find you have
|
||||
the courage to do what you think is right. Be aware that it is a
|
||||
piece of me. And those who know about it will try to take it from
|
||||
you."
|
||||
|
||||
In the distance you can hear alarms and terrible moans carried on a
|
||||
howling wind.
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
Corraidhín impatiently flips over the first three tumbrot cards in
|
||||
front of Inky:
|
||||
|
||||
1. A tall man looks from a battlemented roof over sea and shore; he
|
||||
holds a globe in his right hand, while a staff in his left rests on
|
||||
the battlement; another is fixed in a ring. The Rose and Cross and
|
||||
Lily should be noticed on the left side.
|
||||
|
||||
2. Strange chalices of vision, but the images are more especially
|
||||
those of the fantastic spirit.
|
||||
|
||||
3. A ferryman carrying passengers in his punt to the further shore.
|
||||
The course is smooth, and seeing that the freight is light, it may be
|
||||
noted that the work is not beyond his strength.
|
||||
|
||||
Felixe the Cat passes the two six-sided tumbrot dice to Inky and
|
||||
recites a small pome for the inkling:
|
||||
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
> In the superior world it is
|
||||
> A young man, leaning on his
|
||||
> to indicate therein. It is
|
||||
> speaking, to the traditional
|
||||
> red standard has been
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
|
||||
You can suddenly hear an ominous wind whistling outside the club and
|
||||
battering at the windows.
|
||||
|
||||
"Well?" Balvin prompts. "What do you do?"
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,170 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00069
|
||||
created: Thu, 02 Mar 2023 07:16:46 -0700
|
||||
updated: Thu, 02 Mar 2023 07:16:46 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00069 {#00069}
|
||||
|
||||
> Inky offers the cat person a bemused half-smile, then turns to the
|
||||
> sysorcerer. "We hope you are well. Young Master Alex has been
|
||||
> searching for you. He had planned on coming, but had to attend to an
|
||||
> urgent matter on short notice."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> A pause, then Inky slides an open envelope — a plain affair with a
|
||||
> grid of tiny blue dots, and a single sheet of a similar pattern
|
||||
> inside — across the table towards the wizard. They continue, "If
|
||||
> there is anything you wish to tell him, you can write it in a
|
||||
> language only you two understand and seal the envelope. This one will
|
||||
> do their best to pass on the message." They wave another identical
|
||||
> envelope, indicating the message will be copied once sealed before
|
||||
> pocketing it again.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "If you do decide to write, please do it promptly. This one will be
|
||||
> departing shortly, and the envelope in front of you will disappear,"
|
||||
> they inform the sysorcerer with an apologetic look and a tinge of
|
||||
> sadness.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> To the self-proclaimed double agent, Inky replies, "Thanks for the
|
||||
> information. Master Alex will be positively ecstatic with the news."
|
||||
> They send the hobbit a lopsided smile. "Nevertheless, you will
|
||||
> understand if the party would like to consider your proposal further
|
||||
> before providing an answer. Haste makes waste, as proverbs say.
|
||||
> Perhaps your pirate captain would agree. My condolences."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Ignoring the proffered dice, Inky bids the group at the table good
|
||||
> evening and exits the club by the same route with which they had
|
||||
> entered, trying to stave off the growing unease at the back of their
|
||||
> mind.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> ~
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Three corridors later, one with a high vaulted ceiling away from the
|
||||
> din of the gambling club, Inky slows their brisk trot and hands Fuko
|
||||
> the envelope. The owl grips the item, dives down and drops it onto
|
||||
> the thick carpet. She places the back of one feet lightly over a
|
||||
> corner of the envelope, deftly slicing open the top layer along one
|
||||
> edge with a claw. Working quickly, she pulls out the contents with
|
||||
> her beak, smoothing out the sheet with a brush of her wings. Next,
|
||||
> she flies in a slow circle above the papers a few times before
|
||||
> descending again upon the papers and dragging them into a cake tin.
|
||||
> Finally, the bird pops the lid over the container, where the paper
|
||||
> within turns into dry compost.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "It's confidential. Please do not decode." Inky says as a reminder
|
||||
> from their spot near the end of the corridor.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Fuko levels an unimpressed look at her companion, as if to say, *Yes,
|
||||
> for the twenty-fourth time.* Inky smiles back at her and asks, "Is
|
||||
> your *boss* satisfied now?" The smile widens briefly at the indignant
|
||||
> screech and clicks in response, then vanish as the events of the past
|
||||
> few moments caught up to them again. Here in a hallway brightly lit
|
||||
> by glow lamps away from any windows, the howling winds are a distant
|
||||
> echo, but it did not stop Inky from wondering.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> It had been a risk, dallying around longer to give the elder wizard
|
||||
> time to say his piece in writing. No one could have missed the
|
||||
> disappointment written clearly on his face when he realised his
|
||||
> nephew hadn't come. Now, from Fuko's sparse recount of what their
|
||||
> tails had found, the candle had burned down, releasing something
|
||||
> somewhere, yet none of the others had woken up. It would appear that
|
||||
> Master Alex had not left the Dreaming at all, but was in another area
|
||||
> doing Neddas-only-knows-what.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> They stare up at the large central chandelier in the next room with
|
||||
> thousands of crystal beads that gleam like tiny droplets suspended in
|
||||
> the air. Orange shirt and blue shorts have since been replaced with a
|
||||
> red brimmed hat and blue duffel coat, the drawstring pouch tied below
|
||||
> the collar, and running shoes with red rain boots. The mess of ginger
|
||||
> hair is trimmed to a caramel crop.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> When the owl settles again on their shoulder, stirring Inky from
|
||||
> their thoughts, they collect the cake tin, remove the lid and look
|
||||
> inside. From a pocket of their coat, they pull out three seeds and
|
||||
> nudge them with two fingers into the soil. Descending a flight of
|
||||
> stairs, Inky sets the dousojin, grown to the size of a boulder, and
|
||||
> the tin on a side table. They pour seaweed tea into the tin from a
|
||||
> glass bottle, then refill the bottle with small fish-shaped crackers,
|
||||
> corking and placing it beside the tin.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Thank you, Great Spirit. This useless one will take their leave now,
|
||||
> and apologises if they have accidentally 'left the door open' for
|
||||
> something to blow in that should not be here." Inky says.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> They turn to the great horned owl. "Impeccable as ever, both of you.
|
||||
> Thanks for coming along tonight. You may go, Fuko. When you wake
|
||||
> yourself or with Futa's help, please get into the carrier as quickly
|
||||
> as you can, activate the connection and leave immediately. Sever it
|
||||
> as soon as you arrive safely. Forget about pulling off the patch
|
||||
> under my forearm, it can be delivered later, or he can have the body
|
||||
> sent over eventually. Leave and don't look back." Then, more airily,
|
||||
> "Should we meet again, Inky the Insolent shall bring you a large 'rat
|
||||
> at two eels'. How's that for a handsome reward?"
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
> Alex takes the amulet solemnly "Alright, now that's something I can
|
||||
> believe in." he says as he turns the locket over in his hand. The
|
||||
> golden veins shimmer and pulse inside of the pale blue. Alex dons the
|
||||
> necklace, noting that the stone is warm, almost exactly body
|
||||
> temperature. "Alright Neddas, you've got yourself a deal. I'll finish
|
||||
> assembling the crystals, we'll haul you back out to Basementaria. And
|
||||
> it sounds like we're cracking a few eggs along the way thanks to
|
||||
> this".
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The howling interrupts, growing louder, becoming a cacaphony of
|
||||
> tormented banshee wails. The gray expanse of sand fills with a vile
|
||||
> wind, a thick almost physical wall of dark black smog closes in.
|
||||
> Neddas, is nowhere to be found.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex dips down and scoops up the little Katsuva, tucking him into the
|
||||
> ruck sack at his side. "Hang tight little guy, I think the ride out
|
||||
> of here's going to get bumpy.."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> In a single swift motion Alex pulls back the bolt on his AK74u and
|
||||
> levels it at the smog, letting loose a sustained volley of gunfire.
|
||||
> Bullets whiz with a defeaning RATATATAT. While laying down
|
||||
> suppressing fire, he pulls the little console back up to his side
|
||||
> with a short wave of the hand. A single command is all he needs here.
|
||||
|
||||
When Alex pulls up his terminal he sees a notification blinking in
|
||||
the corner of the screen. A message from Corraidhín?
|
||||
|
||||
The howling wind abruptly stops and the smog quickly dissipates.
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
In the fish market, Alex and Inky both wake with a start, gasping for
|
||||
breath as though drowning.
|
||||
|
||||
It is dark. The lights are all out but it looks as through Marvelo
|
||||
has dropped some flairs on the ground. They fill the room with an
|
||||
eerie, crackling red glow.
|
||||
|
||||
It is not quiet. The antiques dealer / spymaster has a couple of
|
||||
cords of rope and a couple loose blankets coiled around his arms and
|
||||
legs. He is shaking them off while screaming obscenities and
|
||||
repeatedly firing a blaster pistol at a large, roaring abomination
|
||||
standing in the center of the room.
|
||||
|
||||
The nightmare has an almost fetal-looking head with a long, bulbous
|
||||
skull that looks far too large for its body. A single eye glares
|
||||
malevolently from the center of its small face. Oily feathers drip
|
||||
from a thin, sagging membrane that runs from wrist to ankle. Its
|
||||
leathery skin cracks and oozes from repeated shots to the torso from
|
||||
Marvelo's blaster, but it seems unbothered by the attack.
|
||||
|
||||
It screeches and lunges forward and swings one massive arm at
|
||||
Marvelo. Its leathery, feathery wing slices through the air like a
|
||||
billowing cape behind its claws. Marvelo jumps to the side at the
|
||||
last moment, firing another shot right into the creature's chest
|
||||
while in midair, and lands on the ground.
|
||||
|
||||
Now prone and helpless on the floor, he looks up as the beast looms
|
||||
over him. It screeches and falls on top of him, shoving its slender
|
||||
hands into his mouth. Marvelo's muffled screams become pitiful
|
||||
whimpers as the creature pulls out teeth by the handful and crams
|
||||
them into its own mouth.
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO?
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,166 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00070
|
||||
created: Sat, 04 Mar 2023 12:23:14 -0700
|
||||
updated: Wed, 08 Mar 2023 21:18:05 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00070 {#00070}
|
||||
|
||||
> Alex scrambles up from the pile of blankets and pilows kicking things
|
||||
> away from him in haste as he grabs at his shoulder holster, pulling
|
||||
> out a sleek looking m1911 pistol.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Marvelo! Hang on mate I've got you!" Alex yells as he empties a clip
|
||||
> into the side of the creature. *click* *click* "Fuck out." Alex pulls
|
||||
> the clip from the pistol and chucks it at the creature "Hey you ugly
|
||||
> fuck! Right here, I'm right the fuck here!" Alex shouts as he slams
|
||||
> another clip into the reciever and starts to fire away at the
|
||||
> creature.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Despite the yelling and flurry of lead Alex delivered to it the
|
||||
> creature continued it's macabre dental work. Marvelo's whimpers and
|
||||
> groans of pain becoming gradually fainter as life leaves his body.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Goddamit!" Alex yells in desperation. Another death on his hands,
|
||||
> another agent lost on his watch. Another member of HIS team gone.
|
||||
> This job never gets easier.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex continues to fire away at the creature as he attempts to
|
||||
> formulate a plan.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Inky, look, I don't know what the hell that is. But it's intent on
|
||||
> tearing us to pieces insofar as I can tell. Marvelo and I rigged the
|
||||
> entire goddamn building to blow though, just in case shit went to
|
||||
> hell. Unless you've got a better idea I'll tackle the goddamn thing
|
||||
> and try and keep it distracted long enough for you to bug the hell
|
||||
> out, preferably through the window if you can stomach it. And then
|
||||
> I'll level the place on top of it" Alex grimaces as he pulls a
|
||||
> detonator from his pocket and shows it to Inky.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "If you have any better ideas I am ALL ears. Not sure if I can really
|
||||
> pull this one off and get out unscathed.."
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
<!-- Meta: CW for graphic violence. -->
|
||||
|
||||
> Inky stares at the creature in their midst in all its exquisitely
|
||||
> monstrous glory for a brief moment that seems much longer amid the
|
||||
> creature's ear-splitting screeches. Eventually coming to, Inky turns
|
||||
> to check the birdhouse. More specifically, the pattern of circles
|
||||
> next to the doors. Through the dim red glow, they could make out
|
||||
> three circles alternating between dark and light. The door had been
|
||||
> bolted from the inside, the interior was empty and the secure drop
|
||||
> back to the lab had been triggered. Fuko had already left then.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Suddenly recalling the witch's warning, Inky yells, "Bread! Run!
|
||||
> We'll catch up later!" They grab the bouquet of dried herbs from the
|
||||
> floor and spring to their feet, walking stick in hand, and dash
|
||||
> towards the Nyxmaer candle. On the way they drop the bouquet into an
|
||||
> unlit brazier that stood off to one side, only pausing briefly to
|
||||
> strike a match and toss it through the opening.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Between the loud bangs of gunfire and muffled screams, they bring the
|
||||
> steel-reinforced stick down hard on the mummified hand and eye
|
||||
> several times quickly. Pushing the remains off the tin plate with the
|
||||
> walking stick then tucking the stick under one arm at the handle,
|
||||
> they run a kitchen knife through the eye and hand with both gloved
|
||||
> hands into the wooden surface beneath.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The flowery scents of sage, thyme and rosemary permeate the room.[1]
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Looking over to the sysorcerer when he spoke but still keeping the
|
||||
> creature within their line of sight, Inky replies, "No, Master Alex.
|
||||
> You have a team to lead and an uncle to rescue. Allow me to do the
|
||||
> demolition honours. Go grab Marvelo and run. Here," they toss a small
|
||||
> packet of pain relievers in powdered form wrapped in wax paper from
|
||||
> their first-aid kit, along with a small cheesecloth pouch filled with
|
||||
> nilgiri tea leaves — still sopping wet from the flask of iced tea in
|
||||
> which it had been steeped — to Master Alex. "This should help with
|
||||
> the bleeding, just watch out for shock."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> They smile at the sysorcerer. "All dreams end eventually, as do
|
||||
> nightmares. And what is darkness without light?" While speaking, they
|
||||
> drop a bundle of twigs and sweet grass[2] on top of the candle
|
||||
> remains that still sat on the thick wooden slab of a rusty metal
|
||||
> office desk. They pour a flask of a clear liquid over it. The pile
|
||||
> suddenly erupts like a bonfire over a pyre, throwing shadows on the
|
||||
> walls that dance and lick away with the crackling flames.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> [1] It is said the ancients began the practice of burning sage to
|
||||
> ward off evil or cleanse negative energies, thyme to induce courage
|
||||
> and guard against nightmares, and rosemary to clear and focus the
|
||||
> mind.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> [2] The elder aunties commonly use sweet grass for purification, such
|
||||
> as when helping their young relatives move into a new home for the
|
||||
> first time with a housewarming ritual.
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
> Alex glances at Inky as he takes the offered medicines, "only use
|
||||
> that as a last resort, got it? We've got a couple of innocents in
|
||||
> here too, hard to keep track of with that big ass monster in here."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex continues laying down covering fire as he advances on the
|
||||
> monster. He casts a glance over his shoulder to see Inky begin
|
||||
> smashing the eye and hand that were embedded in the candle. "Strange,
|
||||
> but I guess it makes about as much sense as the rest of this
|
||||
> situation."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex lunges forward, teeth gritted, as he tackles the monster pushing
|
||||
> it off of Marvelo. He struggles with it, attempting to blast the eye
|
||||
> of the beast with his pistol.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
Alex rains bullets down on the nightmare until he finally gets its
|
||||
attention. It turns from its bloody work and glares at him with its
|
||||
single emerald eye, teeth dribbling from the tiny face in the middle
|
||||
of its oversized, bulbous head. There is a grinding noise like rocks
|
||||
in a tumbler as it tries to roar at you around a mouthful of loose
|
||||
molars.
|
||||
|
||||
From its crouch over Marvelo, it leaps high into the air and spreads
|
||||
its limbs, pulling its wings taut and gliding through the air.
|
||||
|
||||
It lands on the ceiling, digging in with its hind claws, reaching
|
||||
down and swinging at Alex from behind.
|
||||
|
||||
Bread staggers out of the sleeping circle looking exactly as hungover
|
||||
as somebody who has had several interlopers gallivanting around
|
||||
inside their head. They swing a bardiche and bury the blade between
|
||||
its shoulders, striking bone so hard that it rips the weapon from the
|
||||
toque's hands.
|
||||
|
||||
The Nyxmaer squeals and falls to the floor, spilling a few more teeth
|
||||
when it hits. It knocks Bread aside and frantically scrabbles after
|
||||
the loose teeth, scooping them up and cramming them back in its
|
||||
mouth.
|
||||
|
||||
Just then Inky stabs the artifacts and the creature clutches its head
|
||||
and falls in a heap at Alex's feet.
|
||||
|
||||
It howls and writhes, and looks at Alex with a dazed look. He raises
|
||||
his gun and fires directly into the nightmare's eye.
|
||||
|
||||
The eye shatters like glass and a howling, screaming, putrid wind
|
||||
screams from the wound, rising and filling the room. The nightmare
|
||||
seems to deflate and pool at Alex's feet.
|
||||
|
||||
Its flesh sloughs off, revealing Rind and the marketing manager in
|
||||
the center of its torso, and leaving them in an unconscious pile.
|
||||
|
||||
Marvelo babbles incoherently where he lies, wide-eyed and in shock,
|
||||
his jaw hideously broken.
|
||||
|
||||
The hemogoblin hops over and gently pats Rind and the duck on their
|
||||
faces.
|
||||
|
||||
Gliftwrip is the only one still asleep, face down in the pillows in
|
||||
the center of the circle.
|
||||
|
||||
A malevolent force rides the still howling wind and hovers screaming
|
||||
up near the ceiling of the fish market.
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO?
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,108 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00071
|
||||
created: Thu, 09 Mar 2023 21:05:50 -0700
|
||||
updated: Thu, 09 Mar 2023 21:05:50 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00071 {#00071}
|
||||
|
||||
Neddas loves mortals. Possibly more than they love themself. It's why
|
||||
they've diminished their own divinity over the eons by freely giving
|
||||
parts of themself away---gifting tiny aspects of themself to the
|
||||
mortals. Part of their constant delight in doing so is that even with
|
||||
their divine wisdom they can never quite be sure what any mortal or
|
||||
mortals will actually do with a sliver of godhood, with a divine
|
||||
spark. Consequently they have a lot of experience with giving what
|
||||
they thought is a perfect gift only for it to be misused, or for it
|
||||
to backfire in some unexpected way.
|
||||
|
||||
The Sword of Y'aml is a prime example. Justice without Wisom turned
|
||||
out to be a cruel weapon, seeing evil everywhere and smiting it on
|
||||
sight. And Wisdom itself proved as impotent as Justice was
|
||||
overzealous: it became as cold and as cruel in its own way, locked
|
||||
away in ivory towers, refusing to intervene, made lame by theory and
|
||||
academia.
|
||||
|
||||
So now, in this moment, Neddas watches closely to see if they finally
|
||||
got it right. Does this mortal have not only the Wisdom to know what
|
||||
to do, but also the Courage to do it in the name of Justice?
|
||||
|
||||
> Alex rushes to Marvelo's side and quickly begins to administer
|
||||
> medicine to him. "Sorry old friend, it's not much considering the
|
||||
> wound, but it should help you at least stay lucid" Alex says as he
|
||||
> administers the medicine Inky gave him. He takes quick stock of
|
||||
> Marvelo's wound, most of his teeth are gone, his jaw is horribly
|
||||
> disfigured, it's doubtful if it'll heal properly. At best he'll need
|
||||
> prostethics, potentially a full mechanical jaw. It is essentially a
|
||||
> death knell in this kind of work, the perfect normality Marvelo had
|
||||
> always strove for would be forever marred by his sudden abnormality.
|
||||
> Alex shakes his head, "It's fine Marv, I'm positive we can get this
|
||||
> fixed, no worse than at wound Agent 3 took in Cosovo, remember that
|
||||
> one? Hell of a thing that" Alex grins grimly, casting a glance over
|
||||
> his shoulder. "Alright, you should be set old friend, best I can do
|
||||
> for now." Alex hands him back his blaster and sits him up against the
|
||||
> wall, the bleeding staunched, but the magled jaw not much better.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex stands, reloads his pistol, and turns to face the malevolent
|
||||
> apparition.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "I don't know who the fuck you think you are, or what the fuck you
|
||||
> think you're doing. But nobody, and I mean nobody, messes with my
|
||||
> agents, my friends." Alex approaches the apparition, pistol gripped
|
||||
> in one hand, and the crystal pendant Neddas gave him held tight in
|
||||
> the other. "Alright Neddas, you said you'd give me something I could
|
||||
> protect my friends with. Don't think I believe in it much, but I'd of
|
||||
> said until about 15 minutes ago that candles don't produce macabre
|
||||
> dentists either." Alex stands before the apparition, daring it to
|
||||
> move, come and try me if you dare.
|
||||
|
||||
Alex faces down the howling apparition---pistol in one hand, amulet
|
||||
in the other---daring and defiant.
|
||||
|
||||
The wind engulfs him, swirls around him, wraps him in its embrace,
|
||||
and presses him to its bosom.
|
||||
|
||||
> While Master Alex faces the screaming presence overhead, Inky steps
|
||||
> over to where Marvelo is slumped against the wall. Working quickly,
|
||||
> they wipe the blood on the agent's face with a clean kerchief and
|
||||
> antiseptic, then gently realign the shattered jaw, wrapping bandages
|
||||
> around his head to hold it in place. They pull a blanket laying on
|
||||
> the ground nearby over his body before getting to their feet again.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> At the mention of Neddas, they tense minutely before turning away to
|
||||
> stand in a corner, gloved hands in their coat pockets, a quiet
|
||||
> witness to the ensuing confrontation.
|
||||
|
||||
Inky continues to patch up Marvelo and watches as the nightmare
|
||||
chooses its new vessel.
|
||||
|
||||
Flesh and bone start to materialize around Alex as the Nyxmaer tries
|
||||
to encase him in its ribcage and grow a new body.
|
||||
|
||||
The creature starts to take shape, but falters at the threshold of
|
||||
creation. It appears to you as though through a smoky haze, or from
|
||||
the bottom of a murky well. Something is holding it back from
|
||||
materializing.
|
||||
|
||||
It thrashes and redoubles its efforts, desperate to be born. Alex
|
||||
stands still in the eye of its storm. You see the Nyxmaer's tiny face
|
||||
take shape in the small cyclone. It roars as Alex lifts the amulet,
|
||||
and fires his pistol.
|
||||
|
||||
The demon's pinched face wails as the wind no longer presses in on
|
||||
Alex from all sides but is suddenly *yanked* toward him. The
|
||||
struggling body collapses and folds in on itself. The wind goes out
|
||||
of the room as the amulet inhales the Nyxmaer and all its fury.
|
||||
|
||||
And then all is quiet.
|
||||
|
||||
Marvelo looks up at Inky and whimpers.
|
||||
|
||||
A heavy paper envelope, disturbed by the wind, settles to the ground.
|
||||
It was torn open in the commotion, and two tickets spill out: "The
|
||||
bearer of this ticket is entitled to an all expenses paid trip to the
|
||||
moon." It is signed by Blavin Blandfoot and bears the seal of the
|
||||
Benefactor.
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO
|
||||
|
|
@ -1,283 +0,0 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00072
|
||||
created: Fri, 10 Mar 2023 09:35:11 -0700
|
||||
updated: Fri, 10 Mar 2023 09:35:11 -0700
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
### 00072 {#00072}
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
> Alex grabs the envelope from in front of him and rushes to check on
|
||||
> Inky and Marvelo. "Are you two alright?" he asks as he notes the
|
||||
> patch job Inky performed. "Thank you Inky, I understand why my uncle
|
||||
> trusted you so much." he said sincerely. Inky was far better a healer
|
||||
> than Alex could ever hope to be.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> He steps away, noting there's not much he can do after Inky gives
|
||||
> their response. Marv is stable, but not much a talker at the moment.
|
||||
> He proceeds to check on the duck, the child Rind, and the hemogoblin.
|
||||
> The little hemogoblin burbbles happily and climbs up to sit on Alex's
|
||||
> shoulder, tugging lightly at the cord which suspended the gem Neddas
|
||||
> gave him, now worn around his neck. "Best not mess with that one
|
||||
> little one, I'm not sure what the hell just happened, but I don't
|
||||
> trust it. Or any of this eldritch mumbo jumbo.."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Rind is quiet pensive, and doesn't respond much when Alex attempts to
|
||||
> interact. "Inky, do you think you can look after this one when you
|
||||
> get a second? I'm going to check on the sleeping bloke."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex carefully makes his way back towards the circle, making sure not
|
||||
> to cross over it. He quietly inspects their unwelcomed guest.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "I don't know who you think you are, but I ought to put a bullet
|
||||
> through your skull where you lay you sick son of a bitch. How dare
|
||||
> you sneak up on my friends like that." Alex racks his pistol, noting
|
||||
> there's a bullet in the chamber, and levels it at the silk assassin.
|
||||
> "Inky, unless you have objections, I'm going to tie up some loose
|
||||
> ends.." Alex says grimly.
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
> "It's just basic first aid, Master Alex. Any old adventuring sod on
|
||||
> the street can do it. Thank you for the thought, though." Inky
|
||||
> replies. "However, very few people can pull off what you just did.
|
||||
> That was a remarkable feat."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> They take a long look at the child, then beckon their marketing
|
||||
> manager closer, crouching down next to them to speak softly and
|
||||
> slowly to the child. "I guess you've already met duck. You're
|
||||
> friends, right? But did you know that duck is a really good listener?
|
||||
> Whenever you're sad or scared, you can tell duck. Duck always knows
|
||||
> what to do. If you let duck give you a hug, duck can help you feel
|
||||
> better too." They guide the child's hands to the duck's back and let
|
||||
> them rest there, watching for a moment as small, thin fingers begin
|
||||
> to stroke the feathers of their own accord.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> At the sysorcerer's direct address, they look over to him and their
|
||||
> slumbering visitor's form. "Do as you like, Master Alex." Inky says
|
||||
> tonelessly. They add in a low voice, "In all likelihood he will be
|
||||
> unable to cause trouble this side again. If he has not woken up now
|
||||
> that the candle's spell has broken, he probably never will. Maybe
|
||||
> justice has already been served, or the Scissorfolk got to him. Mercy
|
||||
> is an unpopular idea of late though, and I'm hardly in a position to
|
||||
> ask anyone to ponder its meaning."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> They frown at the body. "Speaking of which, the ever-resourceful case
|
||||
> manager has another proposal for you to consider, having gone as far
|
||||
> as to recruit a local celebrity you know well to speak to his cause.
|
||||
> His group, the Golden Iris, wants the crystals for the purpose of
|
||||
> conferring divinity upon the Corn Mother Sitopotnia and making
|
||||
> knowledge of the process available to all. No doubt he'll be
|
||||
> expecting a response to his offer soon. But I see you have already
|
||||
> made your choice." Inky offers the sysorcerer a resigned smile.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> The sound of tapping on glass interrupts Inky's next words. They look
|
||||
> in the direction of the window to see the scops owl outside with a
|
||||
> weatherproof pouch in its beak. Inky walks over to the window,
|
||||
> wedging it open just wide enough to allow the bird to hop in and
|
||||
> takes the pouch. A tiny smirk makes its way to Inky's face when they
|
||||
> return the owl's searching stare, despite an attempt to look stern
|
||||
> and failing. "He let you out, hmm? All right, in a minute," Inky
|
||||
> murmurs to the newly arrived messenger, while pulling out an envelope
|
||||
> from the pouch. As the small owl sets itself on the imp's right
|
||||
> shoulder like it belonged there, said imp half-turns to Master Alex,
|
||||
> expression serious again.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "One more thing." They place the detonator, followed by the envelope,
|
||||
> on top of a stack of pillows a few paces from the sysorcerer. It is
|
||||
> identical in appearance to the one they had presented to Master
|
||||
> Corraidhín in the Dreaming.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Since you weren't at the meeting, I offered to take a message from
|
||||
> your uncle presumptive. Fuko's caretaker has a contraption that can
|
||||
> print copies of notes written on special paper after showing them to
|
||||
> the twins. It has come in handy on occasion in remote areas with few
|
||||
> or no amenities," Inky explains. "Anyway, I don't know if he wrote
|
||||
> anything, or if he was truly Master Corraidhín. Fuko handled the rest
|
||||
> and I didn't ask her amid the hustle. It could be a blank sheet and
|
||||
> everything I just said was probably a terrible joke. He did seem
|
||||
> genuinely glum you couldn't be there, though." They shrug. "You know
|
||||
> what to do from here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I would very much
|
||||
> like some fresh air." With those parting words and walking stick in
|
||||
> hand, Inky strides quickly from the room, out of the dilapidated
|
||||
> building and into the drizzling rain.
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
> Alex gripped his pistol as Inky walked away, her words ringing in his
|
||||
> ears "you have already made your choice. The statement brings pause,
|
||||
> a flicker of doubt, and a frown mars Alex's face. As Inky shuts the
|
||||
> door behind her Alex lets out a discontented sigh, what was it Uncle
|
||||
> had said?
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "A man's fate, is wrought by his own hand"
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex looked at the sleeping man before him, the pistol in his hand,
|
||||
> Marvelo's blood spattered haphazardly across his gloves and trench
|
||||
> coat. Was more blood really the answer? Would killing this man right
|
||||
> the wrong done against Alex? Or his agents? Would their dangerous
|
||||
> game get any less dangerous?
|
||||
>
|
||||
> A single shot rang out from the warehouse, the bullet lodge
|
||||
> harmlessly amongst pillows and blankets. The pistol cast aside,
|
||||
> resting next to the bestilled assassin, with a small note afixed to
|
||||
> it.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> 'Your fate is wrought by your own hand, not mine. - Agent 4'
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex gathers himself, discontented, and pulls the letter Inky gave
|
||||
> him open. Inside was Uncle's familiar writing, in the simple cypher
|
||||
> he'd used when Alex was just a boy.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> ``` 4,
|
||||
>
|
||||
> I have only a moment to pen this, and I don't know if it'll reach
|
||||
> you, but I trust Inky will try.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> I am very much alive, rest assured, but the where I haven't yet
|
||||
> pieced together. Blavin has my physical and metaphysical form
|
||||
> trapped. And he has the second crystal.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> But don't worry, if you're looking as Inky claimed, I rest well
|
||||
> knowing my unrelenting rebel will raise hell itself to find me.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Remember, son, we write our own fate.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> - 10
|
||||
> ```
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex shakes as he folds the letter back into the envelope and presses
|
||||
> it gently against his breast coat pocket. "I'm coming Uncle", he
|
||||
> whispers as he strides across the room and into the rainy night.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> He catches up with Inky a little down the dock, and comes to sit
|
||||
> beside her on the wharf. The patter of rain hitting heavily dampened
|
||||
> planks and stone resounding around them.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Inky.. thank you. For the letter, but also your friendship." Alex
|
||||
> casts a side long glance towards Inky, and he begins to describe his
|
||||
> dream sequence in a rambling sort of way. As he nears the end, "And
|
||||
> that Neddas gave me this stone, he said gesturing to the necklace he
|
||||
> wore. But I'd of told you it was bullshit before any of this
|
||||
> happened. And now you're telling me there are factions, Blavin, the
|
||||
> Benefactor, hell I guess us, all vying for control of these crystals.
|
||||
> I don't know what to do, or what any of it means, but I know we can
|
||||
> forge our own path in this, the rest of it be damned!"
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex sighs heavily. "I couldn't kill the assassin. He killed one of
|
||||
> my men, almost killed Marvelo. He'd of killed us if he hadn't gotten
|
||||
> caught in that magic. I don't know if I have it in me Inky, I'm not
|
||||
> sure I can keep staring into the abyss without tipping over the
|
||||
> edge."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "Everything was a little easier when it was just the agency, hunting
|
||||
> down the bad guys. We had the data, knew the crimes. All of this
|
||||
> though?" he gestures broadly towards the sea in front of them "is
|
||||
> about as clear as a ship on these waters. There's no light to guide
|
||||
> us. And all I want is my Uncle back."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Alex sighs heavily again and hands the envelope from Blavin to Inky,
|
||||
> "and it doesn't look like it ends here, Blavin wants us to head to
|
||||
> the moon, but I'm not so sure we should go.."
|
||||
|
||||
~
|
||||
|
||||
> The imp remains quiet for a long time, staring out into the open
|
||||
> sea.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Eventually, Inky says, "I cannot tell you what to do."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> They look at the envelope but make no move to take it.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> "You already have the Fair One's blessing. Combined with your
|
||||
> talents, fortitude and determination, success is more or less
|
||||
> assured if you decide to go. If you decide not to, maybe Master
|
||||
> Corraidhín will turn up on his own again when he is sufficiently
|
||||
> recovered — if he does not run off to collect the remainder of the
|
||||
> crystals himself." Inky chuckles at that. "Master Alex is such a
|
||||
> thoughtful nephew, not wanting to deprive his uncle of his fun."
|
||||
>
|
||||
> They lean back on their hands and study Master Alex under
|
||||
> half-lidded eyes. "You really are like your uncle." A few beats
|
||||
> pass, and they turn their attention upwards to the sky, tilting
|
||||
> their head up towards the errant raindrops and cool winds blowing
|
||||
> in from across the waters.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
In the days that follow, you move Marvelo into the Milk Market to
|
||||
care for him during his recovery.
|
||||
|
||||
The reclusive Blacksmith of Vay'Nullar (a dwrlugh who---as is
|
||||
traditional among its kind---refuses to go by any given name) makes a
|
||||
rare appearance outside of its forge to present Marvelo with a new
|
||||
artificial jaw made of polished granite and bronze. An exquisite gift
|
||||
that more than settles an old debt owed from an adventure the two of
|
||||
them shared long ago.
|
||||
|
||||
It will never be mistaken for flesh, but it does somewhat complement
|
||||
the golden tones of Marvelo's skin. With the skill of a surgeon, and
|
||||
a level of craftmanship unique to the dwrlugh, the Blacksmith affixes
|
||||
the jaw to Marvelo's bones with small metal screws, and lengthens and
|
||||
sews his muscles to the contraption so that it operates naturally,
|
||||
just like the real thing.
|
||||
|
||||
Marvelo grows stronger as the days go by. His recovery is no doubt
|
||||
accelerated by the hemogoblin, who provides ample transfusions and
|
||||
refuses to leave his bed. Confidence and Bread continue to help out
|
||||
around the place, and take turns checking in on him.
|
||||
|
||||
Though he will ever be physically scarred by his encounter with the
|
||||
Nyxmaer, Marvelo soon enough is able to eat and drink on his own.
|
||||
Soon after that he is puttering around the Milk Market and growing
|
||||
restless at his confinement.
|
||||
|
||||
Kasutva falls in with Quack and Clot and attains the rank of Milk
|
||||
Market Mascot. They have a better command of language than their
|
||||
companions. And, being an escapee dream entity, at times behaves a
|
||||
little alien, inscrutible, and other-wordly. They don't sleep, for
|
||||
example. And every morning they demand a full recounting of
|
||||
everybody's dreams, omitting nothing, and sometimes requiring up to
|
||||
three retellings of each dream. But they otherwise settle right right
|
||||
in.
|
||||
|
||||
Another curious presence in the Milk Market is Rind. The orphaned
|
||||
child of Pepo the melon vendor. Abandoned by his mother. Adopted by
|
||||
Gliftwirp the assassin. The child has still not uttered a word the
|
||||
entire time. Rind and the duck have formed an inseparable bond.
|
||||
Apparently becoming a conjoined host for a living dentophiliac
|
||||
nightmare will do that. Whenever you least suspect it, you'll turn
|
||||
around to find Rind standing behind you, silent, wide-eyed, and
|
||||
watching. Cradling the duck in his arms and stroking its feathers.
|
||||
|
||||
Gliftwirp has still not responded to any attempts to wake him. The
|
||||
toques have assumed responsibility for sustaining him through his
|
||||
unnatural slumber. Feeding him broth, and carrying him outside now
|
||||
and then for fresh air and sunshine. More kindness than Alex is
|
||||
comfortable with, no doubt. Rind visits him often in the storage
|
||||
closet where his cot is set up. Keeping a silent, watchful vigil.
|
||||
Rind's apparent affection for the assassin is actually probably the
|
||||
only reason Gliftwirp is shown any compassion whatsoever by Team 43.
|
||||
|
||||
Your next mission looms ahead of you. Putting your heads together
|
||||
with Marvelo and Confidence, you agree that the most simple way
|
||||
forward will be to use the pirate balloonship currently docked above
|
||||
the Market. It is straight-forward enough to retrofit it with a
|
||||
portable atmosphere (which will provide you with breathable oxygen
|
||||
and gravity) and a starhelm (which will allow you to pilot the ship
|
||||
through the void of space). Both items can be obtained in Vay'Nullar
|
||||
for a reasonable price.
|
||||
|
||||
The only thing holding you back at this point is your own
|
||||
reservations about the various interested parties and their
|
||||
motivations.
|
||||
|
||||
Do you help the Golden Iris create a new god? Or do you help an
|
||||
existing, exiled god return to Basmentaria? And then who knows what
|
||||
the mysterious Benefactor's plans are?
|
||||
|
||||
Whatever your answer, there's one thing you know: If you don't get
|
||||
moving soon, the next Ginnarak Crystal will fall into somebody else's
|
||||
hands.
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO
|
||||
|
|
@ -0,0 +1,83 @@
|
|||
---
|
||||
title: 00074
|
||||
created: Tue, 21 Mar 2023 21:11:46 -0600
|
||||
updated: Tue, 21 Mar 2023 21:11:46 -0600
|
||||
public: yes
|
||||
syndicated: yes
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
### 00074 {#00074}
|
||||
|
||||
Blavin's vouchers enable you to far exceed your modest budget for
|
||||
retrofitting the cyberplasm balloonship for space travel.
|
||||
|
||||
Not only were you able to get a portable atmosphere and a starhelm
|
||||
from the ever resourceful Wandering Bazaar. But you were also able to
|
||||
mount a ballista on a turret in the center of the main deck so you
|
||||
can fire large bolts in nearly any direction. And even a mangonel on
|
||||
the top deck: a long range trebuchet that takes more time to load,
|
||||
aim, and fire; but which does considerably more damage than the
|
||||
shorter-range ballista.
|
||||
|
||||
Above the Milk Market, a crew of Alex's agents get the ship ready for
|
||||
departure. They have stoked the burners, and the resident sunspoke
|
||||
has happily filled the balloons with enough lift for the ship to
|
||||
start to pull and strain at its tethers.
|
||||
|
||||
You cut the rope loose, and Vay'Nullar falls away beneath you as the
|
||||
ship rises into the sky.
|
||||
|
||||
When the air becomes thinner and the sunspoke begins to sputter
|
||||
somewhat, you switch off the burner move the sunspoke into a cold
|
||||
locker in the galley to induce hibernation so that it doesn't
|
||||
accidentally burn through your limited reserve of oxygen.
|
||||
|
||||
You activate the portable atmosphere, a small block of newtonian
|
||||
covered with arcane runes and affixed to the cargo hold. Newtonian is
|
||||
an alchemical substance made of pure density. There are entire
|
||||
volumes in Nullar's cosmic library devoted to the timelines that met
|
||||
an abrupt, violent end upon the discovery of the substance. Luckily,
|
||||
the alchemists of Basmentaria in your timeline were able to stabilize
|
||||
the element before all of creation collapsed into a singularity. And
|
||||
now it is commonplace for runewardens to attune small pieces of the
|
||||
stuff to spacefaring ships so that each ship is able to sustain its
|
||||
own unique gravity plane. In this way, each ship retains an amount of
|
||||
breathable atmosphere relative to its size; and starsailors are able
|
||||
to confidently walk along the top (and bottom!) of their craft.
|
||||
|
||||
Next you head to the starhelm.
|
||||
|
||||
Even when it comes to magic, there are certain principles that tend
|
||||
to hold true. One such princple---when it comes to starsailing, at
|
||||
least---is the conservation of energy. There are lots of different
|
||||
kinds of starhelms. But they all consume *something* in order to
|
||||
propel your ship across the stars.
|
||||
|
||||
However endless the treasures of the Wandering Bazaar may seem,
|
||||
starhelms remain quite rare. You consider yourself lucky to find the
|
||||
one that you did. It could have been a costly Forgehelm, requiring
|
||||
constant fuel in the form of precious stones and powerful artifacts.
|
||||
Or an even more costly Bloodhelm, slowly siphoning away your life
|
||||
essence.
|
||||
|
||||
Yes, all things considered you could have done much worse than the
|
||||
Emotionhelm that you purchased. All that it requires of you to keep
|
||||
the ship on course is that you scream, rant and rave, and bawl and
|
||||
cry at it periodically.
|
||||
|
||||
You imagine it ought to be quite therapeutic, actually.
|
||||
|
||||
Portable atmosphere activated, and having fed the starhelm a bit of
|
||||
melancholia, the ship finally exits the planet's atmosphere. Your crew
|
||||
takes down the balloons once they start to deflate and stores them in
|
||||
the cargo hold. And you set sail for Lua, the Red Lady.
|
||||
|
||||
In the distance, you see a pod of gargantuan aetherwaels drifting
|
||||
through the void. Nearby, you see a small school of space guppies
|
||||
swim by and then quickly scatter as a space gull dives at them and
|
||||
tries to scoop up a quick meal.
|
||||
|
||||
You have a couple day's of travel ahead of you, and the very
|
||||
non-empty void of space on all sides of you.
|
||||
|
||||
WHAT DO YOU DO?
|
||||
578
www/index.html
578
www/index.html
|
|
@ -279,29 +279,11 @@
|
|||
<li><a href="#chapter-1" id="toc-chapter-1">Chapter 1</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#chapter-2" id="toc-chapter-2">Chapter 2</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#chapter-3" id="toc-chapter-3">Chapter 3</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#chapter-4" id="toc-chapter-4">Chapter 4</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#current-story" id="toc-current-story">Current Story</a>
|
||||
<ul>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00054" id="toc-00054">00054</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00055" id="toc-00055">00055</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00056" id="toc-00056">00056</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00057" id="toc-00057">00057</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00058" id="toc-00058">00058</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00059" id="toc-00059">00059</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00060" id="toc-00060">00060</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00061" id="toc-00061">00061</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00062" id="toc-00062">00062</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00063" id="toc-00063">00063</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00064" id="toc-00064">00064</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00065" id="toc-00065">00065</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00066" id="toc-00066">00066</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00067" id="toc-00067">00067</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00068" id="toc-00068">00068</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00069" id="toc-00069">00069</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00070" id="toc-00070">00070</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00071" id="toc-00071">00071</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00072" id="toc-00072">00072</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00074" id="toc-00074">00074</a></li>
|
||||
</ul></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#afterword" id="toc-afterword">Afterword</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#appendix-a-dramatis-personae"
|
||||
id="toc-appendix-a-dramatis-personae">Appendix A: Dramatis Personae</a>
|
||||
<ul>
|
||||
|
|
@ -373,11 +355,11 @@ into the <a href="#current-story">current story arc</a>.</p>
|
|||
you can <a href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml">subscribe to
|
||||
the rss feed</a>.</p>
|
||||
<h2 id="stats">Stats</h2>
|
||||
<p>Total length: 94060 words / 401 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the
|
||||
<p>Total length: 99274 words / 424 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 255 messages posted over 241 days since the first
|
||||
post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.05.</p>
|
||||
<p>There have been 260 messages posted over 252 days since the first
|
||||
post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.03.</p>
|
||||
<h2 id="chapter-1">Chapter 1</h2>
|
||||
<p>This is the first installment of BASEMENT QUEST.</p>
|
||||
<p>Jump to: <a href="#00001">1</a> <a href="#00002">2</a> <a
|
||||
|
|
@ -5299,12 +5281,21 @@ some kind of spirit.</p>
|
|||
</ul>
|
||||
<p><a
|
||||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2023-01/msg00019.html">www</a></p>
|
||||
<h2 id="current-story">Current Story</h2>
|
||||
<p>The current story arc.</p>
|
||||
<p>You can subscribe to these updates with the rss feed.</p>
|
||||
<p><a href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml"
|
||||
class="uri">https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml</a></p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00054">00054</h3>
|
||||
<h2 id="chapter-4">Chapter 4</h2>
|
||||
<p>Chapter 4 of BASEMENT QUEST.</p>
|
||||
<p>Jump to:</p>
|
||||
<p><a href="#00054">54</a> <a href="#00055">55</a> <a
|
||||
href="#00056">56</a> <a href="#00057">57</a> <a href="#00058">58</a> <a
|
||||
href="#00059">59</a> <a href="#00060">60</a> <a href="#00061">61</a> <a
|
||||
href="#00062">62</a> <a href="#00063">63</a> <a href="#00064">64</a> <a
|
||||
href="#00065">65</a> <a href="#00066">66</a> <a href="#00067">67</a> <a
|
||||
href="#00068">68</a> <a href="#00069">69</a> <a href="#00070">70</a> <a
|
||||
href="#00071">71</a> <a href="#00072">72</a> <a href="#00073">73</a></p>
|
||||
<!--
|
||||
do this:
|
||||
ls -1 src/epistolary/000{38..53}.md | xargs pandoc -f markdown -t markdown >> src/chapter3.md
|
||||
//-->
|
||||
<h4 id="00054">00054</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Once back in the Milk Bar, with the airship safely anchored to the
|
||||
roof of the building, Alex finds himself amongst the old belongings of
|
||||
|
|
@ -5543,7 +5534,7 @@ appear at East and Lowland.) It is in fact not scheduled to appear until
|
|||
a week and a half after next Selday, on Third Tensday. (When the Bazaar
|
||||
will appear at Cathedral and Pine.)</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00055">00055</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00055">00055</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>The nibs had disappeared.</p>
|
||||
<p>Inky had spotted the small ceramic and wicker teapot among a long row
|
||||
|
|
@ -5803,7 +5794,7 @@ red spider spinning a red web. Phrases like “215R” show up in random
|
|||
articles in the paper. As though the secret world is trying to cross
|
||||
over. Or to draw you into it.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00056">00056</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00056">00056</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>The agitation Alex feels bubbles just beneath the surface. Patterns
|
||||
where patterns shouldn’t be, strange orders from HQ, indifference where
|
||||
|
|
@ -5973,7 +5964,7 @@ 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!</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00057">00057</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00057">00057</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Alex lifts his teacup and sips the fragrantly tea, “perfumed of
|
||||
rosehips, and cardamum? An interesting choice. I appreciate it Inky,
|
||||
|
|
@ -6183,7 +6174,7 @@ squinting into the fire. “Let’s see what we can salvage here.”</p>
|
|||
<li>The time of the ritual is at hand.</li>
|
||||
<li>What final preparations do you make before entering Dreamspace?</li>
|
||||
</ul>
|
||||
<h3 id="00058">00058</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00058">00058</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p><em>(A week prior)</em></p>
|
||||
<p>The secretary collected the stack of papers that had accumulated at
|
||||
|
|
@ -6379,7 +6370,7 @@ Dreaming?</p></li>
|
|||
<li><p>What are you secretly worried or hopeful about being exposed in
|
||||
the dreamland, the realm of metaphor?</p></li>
|
||||
</ul>
|
||||
<h3 id="00059">00059</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00059">00059</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Alex procures from a pocket of his trenchcoat a tiny vial. On the
|
||||
vial is a small strip of parchment which reads:</p>
|
||||
|
|
@ -6456,7 +6447,7 @@ direction.</p>
|
|||
<p>“My acorns!” insists the chipmunk, wringing its hands. “The Red
|
||||
Squirrel has taken them all! Are you going to help me?”</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00060">00060</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00060">00060</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Alex takes inventory of himself, this dream world is definitely
|
||||
strange, but fortunately its decided to provide him with his impecable
|
||||
|
|
@ -6519,7 +6510,7 @@ but the figure is gone.</p>
|
|||
<p>You notice a pair of large ravens watching you rather intently from
|
||||
the branches below.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00061">00061</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00061">00061</h4>
|
||||
<p>Alex the Octopus and Inky the Noogle stand on a tree branch as wide a
|
||||
street in the heart of the great white upside-down forest.</p>
|
||||
<p>A cry of anguish and anger echoes through the forest, and the
|
||||
|
|
@ -6555,7 +6546,7 @@ under. One inward toward your host’s deep, core memories. And the second
|
|||
pulling you outward toward the Sea of Dreams.</p>
|
||||
<p>You have but a moment before the Red Squirrel is upon you.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00062">00062</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00062">00062</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>One moment, Inky is half-asleep on their feet in the middle of Branch
|
||||
Avenue. In the next, they are reclining in a banana boat that resembles
|
||||
|
|
@ -6644,7 +6635,7 @@ rainbow colored light crackling along the inside illuminating very
|
|||
little of the smoke-filled interior.</p>
|
||||
<p>“What is it you seek from Dude 215R?”</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00063">00063</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00063">00063</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>“Greetings, Great One.” Inky bows, back parallel to the ground while
|
||||
they stand on the branch, now a humanoid child in a black uniform and
|
||||
|
|
@ -6740,7 +6731,7 @@ Small Kasutva lacks any limbs and cannot gesture, but smiles softly at
|
|||
you.</p>
|
||||
<p>“But tell us what it is you seek. Perhaps we can be of help.”</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00064">00064</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00064">00064</h4>
|
||||
<p>Back at the fish market, Marvelo squints into the pouring rain and
|
||||
swears under his breath, frustrated at the limited visibility.</p>
|
||||
<p>His colleague is lying on the floor behind him in some kind of state
|
||||
|
|
@ -6868,7 +6859,7 @@ you up and carry you to Ephemeris.”</p>
|
|||
<p>It hops up to you and extends itself in a clear request, despite its
|
||||
lack of limbs, that it wants you to pick it up.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00065">00065</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00065">00065</h4>
|
||||
<p>Marvelo fetched a fluffy blanket from the piles of blankets and
|
||||
pillows in the ritual room where the dreamers continue to sleep. He has
|
||||
wrapped up the child and is drying them off. The sound of rain continues
|
||||
|
|
@ -7004,7 +6995,7 @@ look behind you as Ousia rises up to meet you.</p>
|
|||
<p>Kasutva clings to your leg as you fall, crying. “We’re sorry. We’re
|
||||
sorry,” they say over and over as you are pulled below the waves.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00066">00066</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00066">00066</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>“Thank you. May your search brings you good tidings.” Inky replies
|
||||
with a smile and nod towards the sea.</p>
|
||||
|
|
@ -7156,7 +7147,7 @@ pieces of my essence—including this, the Sword of Y’aml!—so that I may
|
|||
finally start to return to Basmentaria. You have done so much already,
|
||||
but I am afraid I must ask more of you still.”</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00067">00067</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00067">00067</h4>
|
||||
<p>In the fish market, the dreamers continue to sleep soundly through
|
||||
the ringing claxon alarms with nothing but maybe the twitch of a finger
|
||||
to indicate that they hear anything at all.</p>
|
||||
|
|
@ -7323,7 +7314,7 @@ new age for Basmentaria!”</p>
|
|||
down, in a cross. Three across, three high. It sets the remainder of the
|
||||
deck aside and looks at you expectantly.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO?</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00068">00068</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00068">00068</h4>
|
||||
<p>The fingertips of the Nyxmaer graze the eye and an eldritch wind
|
||||
begins to howl inside the fish market.</p>
|
||||
<p>It whips around and around inside the ritual circle, flipping
|
||||
|
|
@ -7400,7 +7391,7 @@ red standard has been</code></pre>
|
|||
<p>You can suddenly hear an ominous wind whistling outside the club and
|
||||
battering at the windows.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Well?” Balvin prompts. “What do you do?”</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00069">00069</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00069">00069</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Inky offers the cat person a bemused half-smile, then turns to the
|
||||
sysorcerer. “We hope you are well. Young Master Alex has been searching
|
||||
|
|
@ -7535,7 +7526,7 @@ hands into his mouth. Marvelo’s muffled screams become pitiful whimpers
|
|||
as the creature pulls out teeth by the handful and crams them into its
|
||||
own mouth.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO?</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00070">00070</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00070">00070</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Alex scrambles up from the pile of blankets and pilows kicking things
|
||||
away from him in haste as he grabs at his shoulder holster, pulling out
|
||||
|
|
@ -7662,7 +7653,7 @@ the center of the circle.</p>
|
|||
<p>A malevolent force rides the still howling wind and hovers screaming
|
||||
up near the ceiling of the fish market.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO?</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00071">00071</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00071">00071</h4>
|
||||
<p>Neddas loves mortals. Possibly more than they love themself. It’s why
|
||||
they’ve diminished their own divinity over the eons by freely giving
|
||||
parts of themself away—gifting tiny aspects of themself to the mortals.
|
||||
|
|
@ -7747,7 +7738,7 @@ bearer of this ticket is entitled to an all expenses paid trip to the
|
|||
moon.” It is signed by Blavin Blandfoot and bears the seal of the
|
||||
Benefactor.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00072">00072</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00072">00072</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Alex grabs the envelope from in front of him and rushes to check on
|
||||
Inky and Marvelo. “Are you two alright?” he asks as he notes the patch
|
||||
|
|
@ -7976,12 +7967,493 @@ mysterious Benefactor’s plans are?</p>
|
|||
moving soon, the next Ginnarak Crystal will fall into somebody else’s
|
||||
hands.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h2 id="afterword">Afterword</h2>
|
||||
<p>I don’t know what I’m going to put here, but I didn’t want this
|
||||
document to just abruptly end. So here you go: a kind farewell and a
|
||||
more gentle conclusion.</p>
|
||||
<p>Thanks for reading.</p>
|
||||
<p>dozens@tilde.team</p>
|
||||
<h4 id="00073">00073</h4>
|
||||
<!-- CW: angst -->
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Tess looked up as Ink entered her office. Attired in a dark grey
|
||||
suit, nondescript save for a small silver owl pin adorning the collar,
|
||||
her adviser’s face held an impassive expression as they returned her
|
||||
probing gaze. Her secretary stood to one side, but Tess did not miss the
|
||||
apologetic look she gave Ink as the imp approached the desk, a broad
|
||||
polished presence carved from aged cypress. Tess pursed her lips further
|
||||
in a displeased frown.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Ink, what’s this about another temporary leave request?” she tapped
|
||||
the form on her desk with a gold-plated fountain pen bearing a miniature
|
||||
cloisonné butterfly on its cap, and pinned her adviser with a hard
|
||||
stare. “Does this have something to do with the crystals again?”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Yes, is something the matter?” Ink asked.</p>
|
||||
<p>Tess’s expression turned furious. “Salvia told me everything. When
|
||||
you started on this wild duck chase, we agreed you will keep me informed
|
||||
at all times. Not only did you fail to do so, your little game has led
|
||||
to the manager’s death at the Runesocesius. For this alone, the theatre
|
||||
could be liable for damages as a result of your recklessness. I asked
|
||||
you to retrieve a set of notebooks and source material for the play, not
|
||||
to reduce sections of their library to ashes. And that’s not counting
|
||||
the number of eyewitness accounts claiming you forcibly kidnapped two of
|
||||
the hotel employees in a pirate airship. A pirate airship that is
|
||||
currently moored over that dingy bakery you like to shamelessly promote
|
||||
in the magazine.”</p>
|
||||
<p>The elf shot her adviser a withering look before continuing, “You
|
||||
jeopardised the theatre’s good standing with the hotel, all for the sake
|
||||
of a shiny piece of stone. Did you even think before you acted? As if
|
||||
all that hadn’t been foolish enough, you decided to enter a dream ritual
|
||||
<em>while being pursued by a serial killer</em>. A child would have
|
||||
better sense than that.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Tess sighed. “We’re extremely fortunate the hotel has decided not to
|
||||
pursue compensation for damages. We also managed to keep most of the
|
||||
stories along with the rumours from appearing in the tabloids, but this
|
||||
has got to stop <em>now</em>, Ink. You are to cease all involvement with
|
||||
those cursed crystals immediately. Stop going on these so-called
|
||||
missions. I have been very patient with you, even to indulge you and
|
||||
your fantasies about the crystals and their supposed potential to level
|
||||
entire cities. The city is fine, the operetta house is still standing,
|
||||
and it’s time you return to work.”</p>
|
||||
<p>She sat back in her chair and eyed Ink critically. “As a reminder, I
|
||||
do expect my employees to actually be present, not traipsing around
|
||||
Basmentaria playing the intrepid hero. Save that for the stage if you
|
||||
want. Is that clear?”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Perfectly so,” Ink replied, “but I’d still like that temporary leave
|
||||
all the same, if you don’t mind. Most of the preliminary details for the
|
||||
Cast Iron series have been finalised, and Salvia can check on things in
|
||||
the meantime.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Ink—” she warned.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Tess, we found out something important about the crystals. Once
|
||||
collected and its powers replicated, everyone could create their own
|
||||
deity. Imagine having your very own gourmand deity to make the most
|
||||
divine meals every day, or a goddess of operetta serenading the halls
|
||||
every night. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? When the crystals have been
|
||||
secured, obviously. The next one is on the moon—”</p>
|
||||
<p>The elf had enough. “Ink! Stop this madness! Do you even hear what
|
||||
you’re saying?” she thundered, raising her voice in annoyance and no
|
||||
small amount of anger. Reining in some of her irritation, she continued
|
||||
in a more measured tone. “You’ve not been yourself lately. Frankly, I’m
|
||||
starting to wonder if you’re in any condition to continue in your
|
||||
position as my adviser and asset manager, given your recent pattern of
|
||||
reckless behaviour, disregard for the safety of others and poor
|
||||
judgement.”</p>
|
||||
<p>She watched Ink’s face for any sign of embarrassment, remorse,
|
||||
anything to indicate her message had gotten through. Instead, the imp
|
||||
had the audacity to look astonished, before nodding once.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Wonder no more.” they said.</p>
|
||||
<p>From their suit jacket pocket, they removed a pair of identification
|
||||
key cards and set them on her desk.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Thank you, Lady Elvesier. It has been a pleasure.” Ink bowed their
|
||||
head, before turning on their heels and exiting the office, the door
|
||||
closing soundlessly behind them.</p>
|
||||
<p>Salvia turned her gaze from the door back to her employer,
|
||||
distressed. “My Lady,” she started.</p>
|
||||
<p>Tess shook her head. “Leave them. They will come to their senses in a
|
||||
month when they realise all the myths and hearsay about the crystals’
|
||||
alleged powers are just that, idle chatter. They will get bored, drive
|
||||
the <em>Nieuwstijl</em> editors into another frenzy then stroll in again
|
||||
as if nothing had happened.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Or so she hoped.</p>
|
||||
<p>Outwardly she had to be firm — Ink’s antics can be excessive
|
||||
occasionally, even as those same methods had helped turn the previously
|
||||
dwindling <em>Nieuwstijl</em> readership and fortunes around. She hated
|
||||
pulling rank, more so on someone in her inner circle who, before this
|
||||
fiasco, had also been one of the most reliable members of her staff. It
|
||||
was a bit unfair, she knew, when the work was still getting done and
|
||||
they were finally heeding her suggestion to take time off, after years
|
||||
of practically living on the theatre premises when not out on business
|
||||
for the Foundation, dining out and writing scathing reviews for the
|
||||
magazine, or arguing with Piskin over one of his projects. But she
|
||||
needed Ink to see they were being unreasonable. This obsession with the
|
||||
crystals was getting out of hand.</p>
|
||||
<p>Tess had noticed more perturbing changes in her friend shortly after
|
||||
their return from some form of sleep ritual with Piskin’s help,
|
||||
ostensibly to get more information about the crystals from a secret
|
||||
conspiracy group. (The kingfisher had refused to divulge any details,
|
||||
but his grimace had told Salvia the event hadn’t gone according to
|
||||
plan.)</p>
|
||||
<p>The first and most apparent was that they no longer took tea while in
|
||||
her office. One afternoon in Ink’s ensuite office, Tess had opted for a
|
||||
cup of whichever tea Ink was having that day and had nearly spit out the
|
||||
liquid in surprise, only managing not to through years of etiquette
|
||||
training in her upbringing. While she and Ink had different tastes in
|
||||
tea, Ink’s particularity about it meant that whatever was on offer was
|
||||
usually fragrant, often with light floral notes, and soothing on the
|
||||
palate. Six sugar cubes and a half-cup of cream later, the tea — an
|
||||
unusually strong and utterly vile brew laced with something very bitter
|
||||
she couldn’t identify — was still awful. When Tess complained about the
|
||||
flavour, Ink had told her it was ordinary ceylon (she was certain it
|
||||
wasn’t), apologised and offered to make her a fresh pot of a different
|
||||
blend. She accepted a second cup, relieved to find it much more to her
|
||||
liking, but observed that Ink did not take anything in theirs when they
|
||||
refilled their cup from the first pot.</p>
|
||||
<p>Ink was also spending more time at the theatre again, instead of at
|
||||
the bakery and the gang of ruffians they had been cavorting with while
|
||||
chasing those accursed crystals. This was unexpected but welcome given
|
||||
the empanada chef had been allowed to return to his shop and by all
|
||||
accounts the bakery had reopened, though still under close watch.
|
||||
However, a few times when she or Salvia were preparing to leave for the
|
||||
day, they had caught the imp staring into empty space behind their desk,
|
||||
their eyes taking on a peculiar distant cast that she didn’t like at
|
||||
all. Once, Salvia had found them on the rooftop garden on her way back
|
||||
from collecting a few herbs before an oncoming storm, staring up at the
|
||||
clouds as the first few droplets began to fall. She invited them to tea
|
||||
and refreshments to be sent up from the restaurant downstairs or the
|
||||
empanada shop, but Ink had declined politely, wishing her a good evening
|
||||
before moving further into the garden and out of sight behind a cluster
|
||||
of pine trees.</p>
|
||||
<p>No, she decided. This was something Ink needed to figure out on their
|
||||
own — before trouble fully or finally caught up to them.</p>
|
||||
<p>~</p>
|
||||
<p>Tess was right — they had been negligent.</p>
|
||||
<p>It had been a close call with Bread, who was saved only by the
|
||||
toque’s own healthy constitution and sheer luck. Master Alex’s agent
|
||||
hadn’t fared much better, either. While first aid had been part of the
|
||||
self-defence training Inky had undertaken after the ugly incident at the
|
||||
concert hall several years ago, the encounter with the toques had all
|
||||
but shown Inky that their grasp of first aid in relation to field
|
||||
surgery and wilderness emergency was sorely lacking.</p>
|
||||
<p>In the aftermath of the dream ritual, Inky resolved to do something
|
||||
about the oversight. They sat in their office long past work hours
|
||||
poring over herbal tracts as well as books on loan from the city library
|
||||
ranging from applied toxicology, general anatomy to extrication
|
||||
procedures, making notes on ingredients, effects, pressure points and
|
||||
related topics. They scoured new and used bookshops, then went to an
|
||||
apothecary and the witch’s antique shop to restock their kit. It was a
|
||||
crash course at best, but it would have to do.</p>
|
||||
<p>Since relinquishing their position as Lady Elvesier’s adviser, Inky
|
||||
had started working at a healer’s camp at the edge of the city a few
|
||||
days per week in exchange for food, often as part of a skeleton crew on
|
||||
the night shift. The encampment mostly saw farmers or day labourers
|
||||
caught in accidents and mudslides; mothers from remote settlements
|
||||
cradling their sick children with high fevers, infected animal bites or
|
||||
food-borne illnesses; and adventurers who had met with misfortune in
|
||||
some dungeon or another, staggering into the camp or being carried in by
|
||||
a fellow explorer.</p>
|
||||
<p>When the camp was filled with patients, it sometimes meant Inky did
|
||||
not sleep for four or five days at a stretch, with only breaks for meals
|
||||
during the day, or tea and light snacks during the night. It was fine,
|
||||
though. Imps did not really need sleep, though many do enjoy a good nap
|
||||
or adopt the habits of their sleep-requiring partners. However, healing
|
||||
did not come naturally to Inky, who was familiar with more poisons than
|
||||
antidotes from sourcing raw materials for dyes. Starting with the most
|
||||
common ailments, they slowly learned to treat some of the more extensive
|
||||
and serious injuries.</p>
|
||||
<p>All in all, time put towards something Inky would rather need not be
|
||||
used on missions.</p>
|
||||
<p>~</p>
|
||||
<p>Lately, Inky did not stay long when they made their presence known at
|
||||
the Milk Market, but came by a number of times to visit a recovering
|
||||
Marvelo with a bag of fresh fruits and a few adventure thrillers from a
|
||||
comic bookshop as a diversion while he was unable to venture out yet.
|
||||
Besides occupying themselves at the healer’s camp or with other
|
||||
preparations, it was to give the sysorcerer some space to consider his
|
||||
next course of action. The dream ritual had nearly cost him another
|
||||
member of his team, even if he had gained the Fair One’s protection on
|
||||
the way. Inky wasn’t entirely sure how far that protection extended to
|
||||
his subordinates, and wasn’t about to persuade the sysorcerer to find
|
||||
out.</p>
|
||||
<p>It had the additional advantage of not being in the same room with
|
||||
the Milk Market Mascot. Inky had ignored the mascot’s incessant demands
|
||||
for detailed accounts of their dreams, but the smell of wet sand mixed
|
||||
faintly with stars that rolled off the mushroom-like creature in waves
|
||||
was harder to brush off. It set off a phantom ache, and it had nothing
|
||||
to do with stars.</p>
|
||||
<p>However, Inky had a funny idea they wanted to try, and who would be a
|
||||
better assistant than Bread, the experienced host of sleeping rituals?
|
||||
They ushered the bakery apprentice into an unused cooling room with a
|
||||
sleeping bag, a pillow and a cloth bundle of books on the pastries of
|
||||
Agendell, then locked the door behind them both. Several bottles, a tea
|
||||
service and a few implements were laid out on one of the wheeled racks
|
||||
that stood at one end of the room.</p>
|
||||
<p>Once Bread was reclined comfortably in the sleeping bag on the floor,
|
||||
Inky began the first of three sets of tests in two four-hour blocks, one
|
||||
block each for a sleep and wake tea. The toque was instructed to take
|
||||
the sleep tea and rest for four hours, after which Inky would administer
|
||||
the wake tea, having them stay up for four hours eating and reading
|
||||
before repeating with the next round of different infusions. Aside from
|
||||
Confidence leaving their meals at the door, no one disturbed their trial
|
||||
by tea. When the tests ended, Inky thanked the baker’s apprentice for
|
||||
their help and informed them they could keep the books.</p>
|
||||
<p>Three days later, Inky slipped into the storage closet where a
|
||||
slumbering man lay alone in his cot. The child was probably playing with
|
||||
the duck in their room on the other side of the Milk Market. They poured
|
||||
liquid from a vial into the man’s mouth, careful to not spill any, and
|
||||
wiped the sleeping face afterwards. After several minutes without a
|
||||
response, Inky nodded to themselves and left the building.</p>
|
||||
</blockquote>
|
||||
<p>~</p>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>After knocking at the door and waiting for it to be opened, Inky
|
||||
walked into Marvelo’s room carrying an open cardboard box in both arms.
|
||||
From the box which they deposited onto a nearby table, they pulled out a
|
||||
small rectangular wooden planter that held a single plant with a tea
|
||||
green rosette (the accompanying information card read “Echeveria
|
||||
elegans” at the top), a decorative wicker pot of mint, and an
|
||||
old-fashioned watering can, placing the items by the window.</p>
|
||||
<p>“A spot of green for the room. Mint is very resilient, just like its
|
||||
new owner.” Inky said to the agent with a wry smile.</p>
|
||||
<p>They turned back to the box and extracted the remaining items — a
|
||||
bound notebook, an antique fountain pen with refill kit and a portable
|
||||
shredder. These were set on the nightstand next to the reading lamp and
|
||||
a tray with the cold remnants of a half-eaten meal.</p>
|
||||
<p>“It has an invisible ink mode,” they said, gesturing towards the
|
||||
pen.</p>
|
||||
<p>Sitting on a vacant chair next to the table, Inky offered, “I
|
||||
probably hadn’t mentioned it before, but I used to work at a theatre. On
|
||||
one occasion I went along with the props and effects people to a few
|
||||
antique shops and a curios market while they picked up some items for
|
||||
the upcoming play at the time. They had drawn up a list, of course, but
|
||||
you never quite know what you’ll get until you’re there. One of the
|
||||
shops had a black case with a glossy top about the size of your palm
|
||||
with a sliding panel at the back and very flat keys. The shop owner said
|
||||
it was a ‘droidfour’. They don’t make things like that off the shelf
|
||||
anymore. The props guy even scouted out a working candle-powered
|
||||
raclette cooker. Said he was going to caramelise onions on it for the
|
||||
dining room scene. A bit of a waste really. Sound effects crew got
|
||||
herself a rotary dialer to attach to a keypad. She makes the most
|
||||
awfully astounding noise dashboards in all of Vay’Nullar. By the time we
|
||||
got out at the last stop, we were more than a hundred percent over
|
||||
budget. Our employer was <em>not</em> amused.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Inky grinned briefly at the memory, then continued. “Most of the
|
||||
items found uses in the next production months later. It saved the crew
|
||||
another trip.” They look at Marvelo solemnly. “Sometimes there are
|
||||
unexpected outcomes despite the best-laid plans. Instead of the light
|
||||
switch you were looking for, you find a stiff and slightly rusty crank
|
||||
at the shop. And it’s one of the most compact and effective ways of
|
||||
making creaking door sound effects you’ll ever get on a live stage.”</p>
|
||||
<p>They eyed the tray on the nightstand, then rose to their feet, taking
|
||||
the tray with them. “I will come by again another day, more often if you
|
||||
decide you can stomach my presence a bit longer, or would enjoy talking
|
||||
to a breathing fifth wall. I was told it’s an acquired taste.” Inky gave
|
||||
the occupant of the room a small smile. “Let me know if you require a
|
||||
sleeping aid. The notebook is for the things you want to say but will
|
||||
never tell anyone.”</p>
|
||||
</blockquote>
|
||||
<p>~</p>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>“The remaining agents are watching the street and market Marvelo,
|
||||
there’s nothing to worry about. We have every aspect of the building
|
||||
covered completely. You’re safe here.” Alex said to Marvelo as he gave
|
||||
him a doubtful work. Despite the mechanical surgery he was still quite
|
||||
weak, and words came to him in a startling and feeble stutter. The
|
||||
monsters attack had done more than shatter his jaw, he’d lost his edge,
|
||||
reduced to a shadow of his former self. Alex had made a habit of
|
||||
annoucing himself whenever he entered Marvelo’s recovery room, and often
|
||||
times despite that fact found himself staring down the sleek barrel of
|
||||
Marvelo’s blaster.</p>
|
||||
<p>Alex didn’t blame him. That ordeal had harmed them all in more ways
|
||||
than one.</p>
|
||||
<p>“I’ll have Lee stand watch outside your door if it helps any. She’ll
|
||||
keep you safe. Agent 3 was the most aware of any of us after all.”
|
||||
Marvelo smiled weakly. “Is there anything I can do for you friend, nip
|
||||
down to the curio store, fetch the books to keep your mind off things
|
||||
perhaps?” but Marvelo only stuttered a feeble “n-nn-no” in response.</p>
|
||||
<p>Alex sighed, “Alright friend, stay the watch. I’ll check back when I
|
||||
can”.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Marvelo might find himself behind the desk of that curio shop for
|
||||
the rest of his life. If he could stand to greet visitors without
|
||||
brandishing his weapons when they entered the room..” Alex thought to
|
||||
himself as he wandered into the kitchen to find Lee. She often made
|
||||
herself present there, helping the Empanada chef here and there in
|
||||
return for free empanadas. A sly one as always, but the position in the
|
||||
kitchen kept her appraised as to the ongoings on the restuarant. All of
|
||||
which inevitably trickled into the agents twtxt feeds.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Lee, can you keep a closer eye on Marv? He can’t stand ten minutes
|
||||
without leveling his iron at the door. The shell shock isn’t going to
|
||||
get better, but we can try” Alex whispered as he passed Lee on his way
|
||||
out the door.</p>
|
||||
<p>It was common place for the agents to pass words amongst themselves
|
||||
in the milk market in this fashion. Keeping a low hushed profile. Only
|
||||
speaking briefly in passing when necessary. It helped reduce operational
|
||||
friction, reduce the surface for someone, something, to pick up on where
|
||||
they were or what they were doing. It might have been unnecessary in the
|
||||
moment, but after all the planning, traps, guards, and forethought that
|
||||
had gone into that damned dream thing. And then what? An agent dead,
|
||||
another maimed and a shell of his former self? They couldn’t be too
|
||||
careful.</p>
|
||||
<p>Alex emerged into the midday sun on the busy street outside of the
|
||||
Milk Market. The city babbled with life, yet felt isolating, lonely. The
|
||||
crowds milled around like the gentle motion of a river, milling
|
||||
aimlessly onward. It was easy for Alex to slip into the ebb and flow of
|
||||
these rivers of people, to become lost amongst the crowd. To pretend for
|
||||
a moment to be less than he truly was. He hadn’t been sleeping since the
|
||||
dream.</p>
|
||||
<p>The insomnia hadn’t been immediately apparent to him, he felt driven
|
||||
initially; by anxiety to help his friend recover, by fear of the
|
||||
unknown, by hatred towards Blavin and his blasted baubles and the curse
|
||||
they afflicted upon his friends. Yet Alex had taken that drive and
|
||||
planned the retrofit of the airship, hired a crew using the funds he had
|
||||
gotten from his uncles life insurance policy. Sourced the parts, planned
|
||||
the project, and managed it dutifully. It was only once this was all in
|
||||
motion that he had realized he could not sleep. As a result he had taken
|
||||
on a weared and grim look to his once unassuming looks, and he knew it
|
||||
caused him to stand out, even in this sea of endlessly moving
|
||||
people.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Anonymity, such a fleeting thing” Alex thought to himself as he
|
||||
entered “Gig ’a Hertz” and picked a booth in the far corner. The cafe
|
||||
was adorned with electronic techno theme, lots of expose circuitry and
|
||||
the likes. An easy place to plant bugs, which of course agent 6 had done
|
||||
the week before. Dierks was the best at that kind of work, small
|
||||
electronics and the likes just came to him naturally. Alex appreciated
|
||||
those strengths, it made his electronic work seem ameture.</p>
|
||||
<p>A waitress brought Alex a cup of coffe and asked him if he needed
|
||||
anything else, though he gave her no more response than a simple shake
|
||||
of the head and she departed. In her wake stood a woman in a dark grey
|
||||
business suit, hair neatly done, professional in every sense.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Veronica” Alex said in a curt tone “Alex” she responded just as
|
||||
short. “I assume you know why I’m here?”</p>
|
||||
<p>Alex was perfectly aware of why this woman was here, a storm cloud in
|
||||
his otherwise sunny day. She was with Headquarters, from the Office of
|
||||
the Eye, and there were never any good meetings with Eyes.</p>
|
||||
<p>She continued without getting an answer, “Your flagrant disregard for
|
||||
our operation has nearly blown our entire organization out the water.
|
||||
And I find more and more of my men dead each time we try to make good on
|
||||
what you owe us.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about ma’am.” though Alex did, he
|
||||
was all too aware. Each man’s face seared into his brain. He took no
|
||||
pleasure in killing, but when it was him versus them he really had no
|
||||
choice.</p>
|
||||
<p>“You know damn well what I’m talking about. This isn’t some sort of
|
||||
goddamn arms race, some day you’re going to slip up, and then we’ll get
|
||||
what you owe” the woman spat at him.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Veronica, please” Alex said in a cloying fake tone “we’re at an
|
||||
impasse here. What I owe I cannot pay, and have no intention to make
|
||||
good on it. Why don’t we part ways. You release me and my team from our
|
||||
contractual obligations, and we promise not to blow the Eyes cover. I’ve
|
||||
heard whistle blowers are well received these days after all. And before
|
||||
you object, I don’t mind reducing your head count a little further to
|
||||
make my point clear.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Veronica stared at him bewildered “You wouldn’t dare! They’d draw and
|
||||
quarter you in the public square! The cosovo mission alone..” her
|
||||
sentence trailed off in stunned objection.</p>
|
||||
<p>“I absolutely would. You see Veronica, that’s the difference between
|
||||
you and I. I have nothing to lose, so it makes no difference to me.
|
||||
Either you turn a blind eye to what I’m doing, or I take down the whole
|
||||
goddamn organization with me. We go nuclear, in more ways than one.”
|
||||
Alex sad coldly.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Is that where Tsar Bomba went then? You said it was lost, to the
|
||||
bottom of the sea after Cosovo went to shit.” she said, shakily.</p>
|
||||
<p>“I can neither confirm nor deny, but I imagine the Eye would object
|
||||
to such wonton and senseless violence. I however, have no such
|
||||
suggestions. And zero intentions to assist you in preventing it either.
|
||||
So run along, go see if you can find it. You’ll need every man you can
|
||||
get if you mean to scour this city and find my insurance policy. Or, you
|
||||
can close the Eye. Report our termination to headquarters, and we both
|
||||
walk away from this dangerous arms race richer.” As Alex finished his
|
||||
demand he took one last sip from his coffee, now cold, and stood.</p>
|
||||
<p>“It’s been delightful Veronica! But I really must be away, you see my
|
||||
Uncle’s sick and I really need to finish that errand for him, but we’ll
|
||||
catch up again real soon.” Alex said charmingly, and then departed.</p>
|
||||
<p>Later that evening:</p>
|
||||
<p>“The eye is closed friends. There are few amongst us, but we are free
|
||||
from the organization now. I know this is worrying, we’ll no longer have
|
||||
the Eye’s intel, or their equipment. But we have our own here at the
|
||||
Milk Market. And from this point forward, we have but one mission.” Alex
|
||||
pulled the crystal necklace from his shirt “We find the rest of the
|
||||
pieces of Neddas and assemble them, then we make each and every one of
|
||||
these fuckers pay. The Eye, Blavin, it doesn’t matter. With these, we
|
||||
can and will forge a new world order.”</p>
|
||||
</blockquote>
|
||||
<p>~</p>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Make them pay? New world order? Inky stood frozen in the hallway
|
||||
outside the door, cardboard box in hand.</p>
|
||||
<p>It was ill timing; whenever Inky had dropped by the Milk Market, it
|
||||
had usually been in the afternoons, before heading on to the healers’
|
||||
camp or running other errands. They had emerged from another four-day
|
||||
shift that afternoon rather than early morning, after a healer had
|
||||
arrived in place of another who had fallen sick the previous evening. A
|
||||
few hours and a change of clothes later, it was almost supper time. Inky
|
||||
had brought along a book on coping with trauma and passed by the market
|
||||
to pick up dessert – an orange pie and a jar of berry preserves – with
|
||||
the plan to sit with the morose agent for a while, doing some listening
|
||||
of a different sort if the latter was ready to talk about his
|
||||
ordeal.</p>
|
||||
<p>A confrontation would have drawn the lines where each of them stood,
|
||||
not that bursting into the room with five armed agents was necessarily
|
||||
advisable. Worse, a standoff would upset Marvelo, who was immensely
|
||||
loyal to the sysorcerer, and unravel any potential progress made towards
|
||||
helping the man get back on his feet. At any rate, they would know Inky
|
||||
had been in, so Inky simply left the box by the door with a hastily
|
||||
scribbled note that they were unwell and would come in again on another
|
||||
day. Descending the stairs, they wandered through the city to the wharf,
|
||||
where they sat for some time, any appetite for dessert having
|
||||
evaporated, staring out at the rising tides.</p>
|
||||
<p>Was this what the Fair One had really promised in addition to the
|
||||
pendant the sysorcerer now wore? Power and vengeance over those who they
|
||||
deemed had wronged them? Were they all going to end up like the
|
||||
assassin, in a nebulous limbo between the living and the dead? Who else
|
||||
was on their list? Despite the sysorcerer’s gesture of camaraderie at
|
||||
the docks that night, was Inky among the names now that Inky had no use
|
||||
to them, once it sank in that the Fair One’s pact essentially assured
|
||||
success on the missions, or when the crystals had been collected? The
|
||||
dream ritual had been partly Inky’s suggestion, and they had wrecked one
|
||||
of the sysorcerer’s beetles back at the Runesocesius. Some secret groups
|
||||
have disposed of people for much less. Did Master Corraidhín oversaw
|
||||
this cabal? It was difficult to picture the elderly wizard looking upon
|
||||
the meeting with approval, but could Inky say they truly knew the uncle
|
||||
or nephew well?</p>
|
||||
<p>Maybe all of this didn’t matter, if it was the only way.</p>
|
||||
</blockquote>
|
||||
<h2 id="current-story">Current Story</h2>
|
||||
<p>The current story arc.</p>
|
||||
<p>You can subscribe to these updates with the rss feed.</p>
|
||||
<p><a href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml"
|
||||
class="uri">https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml</a></p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00074">00074</h3>
|
||||
<p>Blavin’s vouchers enable you to far exceed your modest budget for
|
||||
retrofitting the cyberplasm balloonship for space travel.</p>
|
||||
<p>Not only were you able to get a portable atmosphere and a starhelm
|
||||
from the ever resourceful Wandering Bazaar. But you were also able to
|
||||
mount a ballista on a turret in the center of the main deck so you can
|
||||
fire large bolts in nearly any direction. And even a mangonel on the top
|
||||
deck: a long range trebuchet that takes more time to load, aim, and
|
||||
fire; but which does considerably more damage than the shorter-range
|
||||
ballista.</p>
|
||||
<p>Above the Milk Market, a crew of Alex’s agents get the ship ready for
|
||||
departure. They have stoked the burners, and the resident sunspoke has
|
||||
happily filled the balloons with enough lift for the ship to start to
|
||||
pull and strain at its tethers.</p>
|
||||
<p>You cut the rope loose, and Vay’Nullar falls away beneath you as the
|
||||
ship rises into the sky.</p>
|
||||
<p>When the air becomes thinner and the sunspoke begins to sputter
|
||||
somewhat, you switch off the burner move the sunspoke into a cold locker
|
||||
in the galley to induce hibernation so that it doesn’t accidentally burn
|
||||
through your limited reserve of oxygen.</p>
|
||||
<p>You activate the portable atmosphere, a small block of newtonian
|
||||
covered with arcane runes and affixed to the cargo hold. Newtonian is an
|
||||
alchemical substance made of pure density. There are entire volumes in
|
||||
Nullar’s cosmic library devoted to the timelines that met an abrupt,
|
||||
violent end upon the discovery of the substance. Luckily, the alchemists
|
||||
of Basmentaria in your timeline were able to stabilize the element
|
||||
before all of creation collapsed into a singularity. And now it is
|
||||
commonplace for runewardens to attune small pieces of the stuff to
|
||||
spacefaring ships so that each ship is able to sustain its own unique
|
||||
gravity plane. In this way, each ship retains an amount of breathable
|
||||
atmosphere relative to its size; and starsailors are able to confidently
|
||||
walk along the top (and bottom!) of their craft.</p>
|
||||
<p>Next you head to the starhelm.</p>
|
||||
<p>Even when it comes to magic, there are certain principles that tend
|
||||
to hold true. One such princple—when it comes to starsailing, at
|
||||
least—is the conservation of energy. There are lots of different kinds
|
||||
of starhelms. But they all consume <em>something</em> in order to propel
|
||||
your ship across the stars.</p>
|
||||
<p>However endless the treasures of the Wandering Bazaar may seem,
|
||||
starhelms remain quite rare. You consider yourself lucky to find the one
|
||||
that you did. It could have been a costly Forgehelm, requiring constant
|
||||
fuel in the form of precious stones and powerful artifacts. Or an even
|
||||
more costly Bloodhelm, slowly siphoning away your life essence.</p>
|
||||
<p>Yes, all things considered you could have done much worse than the
|
||||
Emotionhelm that you purchased. All that it requires of you to keep the
|
||||
ship on course is that you scream, rant and rave, and bawl and cry at it
|
||||
periodically.</p>
|
||||
<p>You imagine it ought to be quite therapeutic, actually.</p>
|
||||
<p>Portable atmosphere activated, and having fed the starhelm a bit of
|
||||
melancholia, the ship finally exits the planet’s atmosphere. Your crew
|
||||
takes down the balloons once they start to deflate and stores them in
|
||||
the cargo hold. And you set sail for Lua, the Red Lady.</p>
|
||||
<p>In the distance, you see a pod of gargantuan aetherwaels drifting
|
||||
through the void. Nearby, you see a small school of space guppies swim
|
||||
by and then quickly scatter as a space gull dives at them and tries to
|
||||
scoop up a quick meal.</p>
|
||||
<p>You have a couple day’s of travel ahead of you, and the very
|
||||
non-empty void of space on all sides of you.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO?</p>
|
||||
<h2 id="appendix-a-dramatis-personae">Appendix A: Dramatis Personae</h2>
|
||||
<h3 id="alex">Alex</h3>
|
||||
<details>
|
||||
|
|
|
|||
3294
www/rss.xml
3294
www/rss.xml
File diff suppressed because it is too large
Load Diff
|
|
@ -279,32 +279,14 @@
|
|||
<li><a href="#chapter-1" id="toc-chapter-1">Chapter 1</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#chapter-2" id="toc-chapter-2">Chapter 2</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#chapter-3" id="toc-chapter-3">Chapter 3</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#chapter-4" id="toc-chapter-4">Chapter 4</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#current-story" id="toc-current-story">Current Story</a>
|
||||
<ul>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00054" id="toc-00054">00054</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00055" id="toc-00055">00055</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00056" id="toc-00056">00056</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00057" id="toc-00057">00057</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00058" id="toc-00058">00058</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00059" id="toc-00059">00059</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00060" id="toc-00060">00060</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00061" id="toc-00061">00061</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00062" id="toc-00062">00062</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00063" id="toc-00063">00063</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00064" id="toc-00064">00064</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00065" id="toc-00065">00065</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00066" id="toc-00066">00066</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00067" id="toc-00067">00067</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00068" id="toc-00068">00068</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00069" id="toc-00069">00069</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00070" id="toc-00070">00070</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00071" id="toc-00071">00071</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00072" id="toc-00072">00072</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#00074" id="toc-00074">00074</a></li>
|
||||
</ul></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#spoilers" id="toc-spoilers">Spoilers</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#acknowledgements"
|
||||
id="toc-acknowledgements">Acknowledgements</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#afterword" id="toc-afterword">Afterword</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="#appendix-a-dramatis-personae"
|
||||
id="toc-appendix-a-dramatis-personae">Appendix A: Dramatis Personae</a>
|
||||
<ul>
|
||||
|
|
@ -376,11 +358,11 @@ into the <a href="#current-story">current story arc</a>.</p>
|
|||
you can <a href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml">subscribe to
|
||||
the rss feed</a>.</p>
|
||||
<h2 id="stats">Stats</h2>
|
||||
<p>Total length: 94060 words / 401 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the
|
||||
<p>Total length: 99274 words / 424 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 255 messages posted over 241 days since the first
|
||||
post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.05.</p>
|
||||
<p>There have been 260 messages posted over 252 days since the first
|
||||
post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.03.</p>
|
||||
<h2 id="chapter-1">Chapter 1</h2>
|
||||
<p>This is the first installment of BASEMENT QUEST.</p>
|
||||
<p>Jump to: <a href="#00001">1</a> <a href="#00002">2</a> <a
|
||||
|
|
@ -5302,12 +5284,21 @@ some kind of spirit.</p>
|
|||
</ul>
|
||||
<p><a
|
||||
href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2023-01/msg00019.html">www</a></p>
|
||||
<h2 id="current-story">Current Story</h2>
|
||||
<p>The current story arc.</p>
|
||||
<p>You can subscribe to these updates with the rss feed.</p>
|
||||
<p><a href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml"
|
||||
class="uri">https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml</a></p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00054">00054</h3>
|
||||
<h2 id="chapter-4">Chapter 4</h2>
|
||||
<p>Chapter 4 of BASEMENT QUEST.</p>
|
||||
<p>Jump to:</p>
|
||||
<p><a href="#00054">54</a> <a href="#00055">55</a> <a
|
||||
href="#00056">56</a> <a href="#00057">57</a> <a href="#00058">58</a> <a
|
||||
href="#00059">59</a> <a href="#00060">60</a> <a href="#00061">61</a> <a
|
||||
href="#00062">62</a> <a href="#00063">63</a> <a href="#00064">64</a> <a
|
||||
href="#00065">65</a> <a href="#00066">66</a> <a href="#00067">67</a> <a
|
||||
href="#00068">68</a> <a href="#00069">69</a> <a href="#00070">70</a> <a
|
||||
href="#00071">71</a> <a href="#00072">72</a> <a href="#00073">73</a></p>
|
||||
<!--
|
||||
do this:
|
||||
ls -1 src/epistolary/000{38..53}.md | xargs pandoc -f markdown -t markdown >> src/chapter3.md
|
||||
//-->
|
||||
<h4 id="00054">00054</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Once back in the Milk Bar, with the airship safely anchored to the
|
||||
roof of the building, Alex finds himself amongst the old belongings of
|
||||
|
|
@ -5546,7 +5537,7 @@ appear at East and Lowland.) It is in fact not scheduled to appear until
|
|||
a week and a half after next Selday, on Third Tensday. (When the Bazaar
|
||||
will appear at Cathedral and Pine.)</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00055">00055</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00055">00055</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>The nibs had disappeared.</p>
|
||||
<p>Inky had spotted the small ceramic and wicker teapot among a long row
|
||||
|
|
@ -5806,7 +5797,7 @@ red spider spinning a red web. Phrases like “215R” show up in random
|
|||
articles in the paper. As though the secret world is trying to cross
|
||||
over. Or to draw you into it.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00056">00056</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00056">00056</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>The agitation Alex feels bubbles just beneath the surface. Patterns
|
||||
where patterns shouldn’t be, strange orders from HQ, indifference where
|
||||
|
|
@ -5976,7 +5967,7 @@ 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!</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00057">00057</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00057">00057</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Alex lifts his teacup and sips the fragrantly tea, “perfumed of
|
||||
rosehips, and cardamum? An interesting choice. I appreciate it Inky,
|
||||
|
|
@ -6186,7 +6177,7 @@ squinting into the fire. “Let’s see what we can salvage here.”</p>
|
|||
<li>The time of the ritual is at hand.</li>
|
||||
<li>What final preparations do you make before entering Dreamspace?</li>
|
||||
</ul>
|
||||
<h3 id="00058">00058</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00058">00058</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p><em>(A week prior)</em></p>
|
||||
<p>The secretary collected the stack of papers that had accumulated at
|
||||
|
|
@ -6382,7 +6373,7 @@ Dreaming?</p></li>
|
|||
<li><p>What are you secretly worried or hopeful about being exposed in
|
||||
the dreamland, the realm of metaphor?</p></li>
|
||||
</ul>
|
||||
<h3 id="00059">00059</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00059">00059</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Alex procures from a pocket of his trenchcoat a tiny vial. On the
|
||||
vial is a small strip of parchment which reads:</p>
|
||||
|
|
@ -6459,7 +6450,7 @@ direction.</p>
|
|||
<p>“My acorns!” insists the chipmunk, wringing its hands. “The Red
|
||||
Squirrel has taken them all! Are you going to help me?”</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00060">00060</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00060">00060</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Alex takes inventory of himself, this dream world is definitely
|
||||
strange, but fortunately its decided to provide him with his impecable
|
||||
|
|
@ -6522,7 +6513,7 @@ but the figure is gone.</p>
|
|||
<p>You notice a pair of large ravens watching you rather intently from
|
||||
the branches below.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00061">00061</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00061">00061</h4>
|
||||
<p>Alex the Octopus and Inky the Noogle stand on a tree branch as wide a
|
||||
street in the heart of the great white upside-down forest.</p>
|
||||
<p>A cry of anguish and anger echoes through the forest, and the
|
||||
|
|
@ -6558,7 +6549,7 @@ under. One inward toward your host’s deep, core memories. And the second
|
|||
pulling you outward toward the Sea of Dreams.</p>
|
||||
<p>You have but a moment before the Red Squirrel is upon you.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00062">00062</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00062">00062</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>One moment, Inky is half-asleep on their feet in the middle of Branch
|
||||
Avenue. In the next, they are reclining in a banana boat that resembles
|
||||
|
|
@ -6647,7 +6638,7 @@ rainbow colored light crackling along the inside illuminating very
|
|||
little of the smoke-filled interior.</p>
|
||||
<p>“What is it you seek from Dude 215R?”</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00063">00063</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00063">00063</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>“Greetings, Great One.” Inky bows, back parallel to the ground while
|
||||
they stand on the branch, now a humanoid child in a black uniform and
|
||||
|
|
@ -6743,7 +6734,7 @@ Small Kasutva lacks any limbs and cannot gesture, but smiles softly at
|
|||
you.</p>
|
||||
<p>“But tell us what it is you seek. Perhaps we can be of help.”</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00064">00064</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00064">00064</h4>
|
||||
<p>Back at the fish market, Marvelo squints into the pouring rain and
|
||||
swears under his breath, frustrated at the limited visibility.</p>
|
||||
<p>His colleague is lying on the floor behind him in some kind of state
|
||||
|
|
@ -6871,7 +6862,7 @@ you up and carry you to Ephemeris.”</p>
|
|||
<p>It hops up to you and extends itself in a clear request, despite its
|
||||
lack of limbs, that it wants you to pick it up.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00065">00065</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00065">00065</h4>
|
||||
<p>Marvelo fetched a fluffy blanket from the piles of blankets and
|
||||
pillows in the ritual room where the dreamers continue to sleep. He has
|
||||
wrapped up the child and is drying them off. The sound of rain continues
|
||||
|
|
@ -7007,7 +6998,7 @@ look behind you as Ousia rises up to meet you.</p>
|
|||
<p>Kasutva clings to your leg as you fall, crying. “We’re sorry. We’re
|
||||
sorry,” they say over and over as you are pulled below the waves.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00066">00066</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00066">00066</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>“Thank you. May your search brings you good tidings.” Inky replies
|
||||
with a smile and nod towards the sea.</p>
|
||||
|
|
@ -7159,7 +7150,7 @@ pieces of my essence—including this, the Sword of Y’aml!—so that I may
|
|||
finally start to return to Basmentaria. You have done so much already,
|
||||
but I am afraid I must ask more of you still.”</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00067">00067</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00067">00067</h4>
|
||||
<p>In the fish market, the dreamers continue to sleep soundly through
|
||||
the ringing claxon alarms with nothing but maybe the twitch of a finger
|
||||
to indicate that they hear anything at all.</p>
|
||||
|
|
@ -7326,7 +7317,7 @@ new age for Basmentaria!”</p>
|
|||
down, in a cross. Three across, three high. It sets the remainder of the
|
||||
deck aside and looks at you expectantly.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO?</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00068">00068</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00068">00068</h4>
|
||||
<p>The fingertips of the Nyxmaer graze the eye and an eldritch wind
|
||||
begins to howl inside the fish market.</p>
|
||||
<p>It whips around and around inside the ritual circle, flipping
|
||||
|
|
@ -7403,7 +7394,7 @@ red standard has been</code></pre>
|
|||
<p>You can suddenly hear an ominous wind whistling outside the club and
|
||||
battering at the windows.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Well?” Balvin prompts. “What do you do?”</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00069">00069</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00069">00069</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Inky offers the cat person a bemused half-smile, then turns to the
|
||||
sysorcerer. “We hope you are well. Young Master Alex has been searching
|
||||
|
|
@ -7538,7 +7529,7 @@ hands into his mouth. Marvelo’s muffled screams become pitiful whimpers
|
|||
as the creature pulls out teeth by the handful and crams them into its
|
||||
own mouth.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO?</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00070">00070</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00070">00070</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Alex scrambles up from the pile of blankets and pilows kicking things
|
||||
away from him in haste as he grabs at his shoulder holster, pulling out
|
||||
|
|
@ -7665,7 +7656,7 @@ the center of the circle.</p>
|
|||
<p>A malevolent force rides the still howling wind and hovers screaming
|
||||
up near the ceiling of the fish market.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO?</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00071">00071</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00071">00071</h4>
|
||||
<p>Neddas loves mortals. Possibly more than they love themself. It’s why
|
||||
they’ve diminished their own divinity over the eons by freely giving
|
||||
parts of themself away—gifting tiny aspects of themself to the mortals.
|
||||
|
|
@ -7750,7 +7741,7 @@ bearer of this ticket is entitled to an all expenses paid trip to the
|
|||
moon.” It is signed by Blavin Blandfoot and bears the seal of the
|
||||
Benefactor.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00072">00072</h3>
|
||||
<h4 id="00072">00072</h4>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Alex grabs the envelope from in front of him and rushes to check on
|
||||
Inky and Marvelo. “Are you two alright?” he asks as he notes the patch
|
||||
|
|
@ -7979,6 +7970,493 @@ mysterious Benefactor’s plans are?</p>
|
|||
moving soon, the next Ginnarak Crystal will fall into somebody else’s
|
||||
hands.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO</p>
|
||||
<h4 id="00073">00073</h4>
|
||||
<!-- CW: angst -->
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Tess looked up as Ink entered her office. Attired in a dark grey
|
||||
suit, nondescript save for a small silver owl pin adorning the collar,
|
||||
her adviser’s face held an impassive expression as they returned her
|
||||
probing gaze. Her secretary stood to one side, but Tess did not miss the
|
||||
apologetic look she gave Ink as the imp approached the desk, a broad
|
||||
polished presence carved from aged cypress. Tess pursed her lips further
|
||||
in a displeased frown.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Ink, what’s this about another temporary leave request?” she tapped
|
||||
the form on her desk with a gold-plated fountain pen bearing a miniature
|
||||
cloisonné butterfly on its cap, and pinned her adviser with a hard
|
||||
stare. “Does this have something to do with the crystals again?”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Yes, is something the matter?” Ink asked.</p>
|
||||
<p>Tess’s expression turned furious. “Salvia told me everything. When
|
||||
you started on this wild duck chase, we agreed you will keep me informed
|
||||
at all times. Not only did you fail to do so, your little game has led
|
||||
to the manager’s death at the Runesocesius. For this alone, the theatre
|
||||
could be liable for damages as a result of your recklessness. I asked
|
||||
you to retrieve a set of notebooks and source material for the play, not
|
||||
to reduce sections of their library to ashes. And that’s not counting
|
||||
the number of eyewitness accounts claiming you forcibly kidnapped two of
|
||||
the hotel employees in a pirate airship. A pirate airship that is
|
||||
currently moored over that dingy bakery you like to shamelessly promote
|
||||
in the magazine.”</p>
|
||||
<p>The elf shot her adviser a withering look before continuing, “You
|
||||
jeopardised the theatre’s good standing with the hotel, all for the sake
|
||||
of a shiny piece of stone. Did you even think before you acted? As if
|
||||
all that hadn’t been foolish enough, you decided to enter a dream ritual
|
||||
<em>while being pursued by a serial killer</em>. A child would have
|
||||
better sense than that.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Tess sighed. “We’re extremely fortunate the hotel has decided not to
|
||||
pursue compensation for damages. We also managed to keep most of the
|
||||
stories along with the rumours from appearing in the tabloids, but this
|
||||
has got to stop <em>now</em>, Ink. You are to cease all involvement with
|
||||
those cursed crystals immediately. Stop going on these so-called
|
||||
missions. I have been very patient with you, even to indulge you and
|
||||
your fantasies about the crystals and their supposed potential to level
|
||||
entire cities. The city is fine, the operetta house is still standing,
|
||||
and it’s time you return to work.”</p>
|
||||
<p>She sat back in her chair and eyed Ink critically. “As a reminder, I
|
||||
do expect my employees to actually be present, not traipsing around
|
||||
Basmentaria playing the intrepid hero. Save that for the stage if you
|
||||
want. Is that clear?”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Perfectly so,” Ink replied, “but I’d still like that temporary leave
|
||||
all the same, if you don’t mind. Most of the preliminary details for the
|
||||
Cast Iron series have been finalised, and Salvia can check on things in
|
||||
the meantime.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“Ink—” she warned.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Tess, we found out something important about the crystals. Once
|
||||
collected and its powers replicated, everyone could create their own
|
||||
deity. Imagine having your very own gourmand deity to make the most
|
||||
divine meals every day, or a goddess of operetta serenading the halls
|
||||
every night. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? When the crystals have been
|
||||
secured, obviously. The next one is on the moon—”</p>
|
||||
<p>The elf had enough. “Ink! Stop this madness! Do you even hear what
|
||||
you’re saying?” she thundered, raising her voice in annoyance and no
|
||||
small amount of anger. Reining in some of her irritation, she continued
|
||||
in a more measured tone. “You’ve not been yourself lately. Frankly, I’m
|
||||
starting to wonder if you’re in any condition to continue in your
|
||||
position as my adviser and asset manager, given your recent pattern of
|
||||
reckless behaviour, disregard for the safety of others and poor
|
||||
judgement.”</p>
|
||||
<p>She watched Ink’s face for any sign of embarrassment, remorse,
|
||||
anything to indicate her message had gotten through. Instead, the imp
|
||||
had the audacity to look astonished, before nodding once.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Wonder no more.” they said.</p>
|
||||
<p>From their suit jacket pocket, they removed a pair of identification
|
||||
key cards and set them on her desk.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Thank you, Lady Elvesier. It has been a pleasure.” Ink bowed their
|
||||
head, before turning on their heels and exiting the office, the door
|
||||
closing soundlessly behind them.</p>
|
||||
<p>Salvia turned her gaze from the door back to her employer,
|
||||
distressed. “My Lady,” she started.</p>
|
||||
<p>Tess shook her head. “Leave them. They will come to their senses in a
|
||||
month when they realise all the myths and hearsay about the crystals’
|
||||
alleged powers are just that, idle chatter. They will get bored, drive
|
||||
the <em>Nieuwstijl</em> editors into another frenzy then stroll in again
|
||||
as if nothing had happened.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Or so she hoped.</p>
|
||||
<p>Outwardly she had to be firm — Ink’s antics can be excessive
|
||||
occasionally, even as those same methods had helped turn the previously
|
||||
dwindling <em>Nieuwstijl</em> readership and fortunes around. She hated
|
||||
pulling rank, more so on someone in her inner circle who, before this
|
||||
fiasco, had also been one of the most reliable members of her staff. It
|
||||
was a bit unfair, she knew, when the work was still getting done and
|
||||
they were finally heeding her suggestion to take time off, after years
|
||||
of practically living on the theatre premises when not out on business
|
||||
for the Foundation, dining out and writing scathing reviews for the
|
||||
magazine, or arguing with Piskin over one of his projects. But she
|
||||
needed Ink to see they were being unreasonable. This obsession with the
|
||||
crystals was getting out of hand.</p>
|
||||
<p>Tess had noticed more perturbing changes in her friend shortly after
|
||||
their return from some form of sleep ritual with Piskin’s help,
|
||||
ostensibly to get more information about the crystals from a secret
|
||||
conspiracy group. (The kingfisher had refused to divulge any details,
|
||||
but his grimace had told Salvia the event hadn’t gone according to
|
||||
plan.)</p>
|
||||
<p>The first and most apparent was that they no longer took tea while in
|
||||
her office. One afternoon in Ink’s ensuite office, Tess had opted for a
|
||||
cup of whichever tea Ink was having that day and had nearly spit out the
|
||||
liquid in surprise, only managing not to through years of etiquette
|
||||
training in her upbringing. While she and Ink had different tastes in
|
||||
tea, Ink’s particularity about it meant that whatever was on offer was
|
||||
usually fragrant, often with light floral notes, and soothing on the
|
||||
palate. Six sugar cubes and a half-cup of cream later, the tea — an
|
||||
unusually strong and utterly vile brew laced with something very bitter
|
||||
she couldn’t identify — was still awful. When Tess complained about the
|
||||
flavour, Ink had told her it was ordinary ceylon (she was certain it
|
||||
wasn’t), apologised and offered to make her a fresh pot of a different
|
||||
blend. She accepted a second cup, relieved to find it much more to her
|
||||
liking, but observed that Ink did not take anything in theirs when they
|
||||
refilled their cup from the first pot.</p>
|
||||
<p>Ink was also spending more time at the theatre again, instead of at
|
||||
the bakery and the gang of ruffians they had been cavorting with while
|
||||
chasing those accursed crystals. This was unexpected but welcome given
|
||||
the empanada chef had been allowed to return to his shop and by all
|
||||
accounts the bakery had reopened, though still under close watch.
|
||||
However, a few times when she or Salvia were preparing to leave for the
|
||||
day, they had caught the imp staring into empty space behind their desk,
|
||||
their eyes taking on a peculiar distant cast that she didn’t like at
|
||||
all. Once, Salvia had found them on the rooftop garden on her way back
|
||||
from collecting a few herbs before an oncoming storm, staring up at the
|
||||
clouds as the first few droplets began to fall. She invited them to tea
|
||||
and refreshments to be sent up from the restaurant downstairs or the
|
||||
empanada shop, but Ink had declined politely, wishing her a good evening
|
||||
before moving further into the garden and out of sight behind a cluster
|
||||
of pine trees.</p>
|
||||
<p>No, she decided. This was something Ink needed to figure out on their
|
||||
own — before trouble fully or finally caught up to them.</p>
|
||||
<p>~</p>
|
||||
<p>Tess was right — they had been negligent.</p>
|
||||
<p>It had been a close call with Bread, who was saved only by the
|
||||
toque’s own healthy constitution and sheer luck. Master Alex’s agent
|
||||
hadn’t fared much better, either. While first aid had been part of the
|
||||
self-defence training Inky had undertaken after the ugly incident at the
|
||||
concert hall several years ago, the encounter with the toques had all
|
||||
but shown Inky that their grasp of first aid in relation to field
|
||||
surgery and wilderness emergency was sorely lacking.</p>
|
||||
<p>In the aftermath of the dream ritual, Inky resolved to do something
|
||||
about the oversight. They sat in their office long past work hours
|
||||
poring over herbal tracts as well as books on loan from the city library
|
||||
ranging from applied toxicology, general anatomy to extrication
|
||||
procedures, making notes on ingredients, effects, pressure points and
|
||||
related topics. They scoured new and used bookshops, then went to an
|
||||
apothecary and the witch’s antique shop to restock their kit. It was a
|
||||
crash course at best, but it would have to do.</p>
|
||||
<p>Since relinquishing their position as Lady Elvesier’s adviser, Inky
|
||||
had started working at a healer’s camp at the edge of the city a few
|
||||
days per week in exchange for food, often as part of a skeleton crew on
|
||||
the night shift. The encampment mostly saw farmers or day labourers
|
||||
caught in accidents and mudslides; mothers from remote settlements
|
||||
cradling their sick children with high fevers, infected animal bites or
|
||||
food-borne illnesses; and adventurers who had met with misfortune in
|
||||
some dungeon or another, staggering into the camp or being carried in by
|
||||
a fellow explorer.</p>
|
||||
<p>When the camp was filled with patients, it sometimes meant Inky did
|
||||
not sleep for four or five days at a stretch, with only breaks for meals
|
||||
during the day, or tea and light snacks during the night. It was fine,
|
||||
though. Imps did not really need sleep, though many do enjoy a good nap
|
||||
or adopt the habits of their sleep-requiring partners. However, healing
|
||||
did not come naturally to Inky, who was familiar with more poisons than
|
||||
antidotes from sourcing raw materials for dyes. Starting with the most
|
||||
common ailments, they slowly learned to treat some of the more extensive
|
||||
and serious injuries.</p>
|
||||
<p>All in all, time put towards something Inky would rather need not be
|
||||
used on missions.</p>
|
||||
<p>~</p>
|
||||
<p>Lately, Inky did not stay long when they made their presence known at
|
||||
the Milk Market, but came by a number of times to visit a recovering
|
||||
Marvelo with a bag of fresh fruits and a few adventure thrillers from a
|
||||
comic bookshop as a diversion while he was unable to venture out yet.
|
||||
Besides occupying themselves at the healer’s camp or with other
|
||||
preparations, it was to give the sysorcerer some space to consider his
|
||||
next course of action. The dream ritual had nearly cost him another
|
||||
member of his team, even if he had gained the Fair One’s protection on
|
||||
the way. Inky wasn’t entirely sure how far that protection extended to
|
||||
his subordinates, and wasn’t about to persuade the sysorcerer to find
|
||||
out.</p>
|
||||
<p>It had the additional advantage of not being in the same room with
|
||||
the Milk Market Mascot. Inky had ignored the mascot’s incessant demands
|
||||
for detailed accounts of their dreams, but the smell of wet sand mixed
|
||||
faintly with stars that rolled off the mushroom-like creature in waves
|
||||
was harder to brush off. It set off a phantom ache, and it had nothing
|
||||
to do with stars.</p>
|
||||
<p>However, Inky had a funny idea they wanted to try, and who would be a
|
||||
better assistant than Bread, the experienced host of sleeping rituals?
|
||||
They ushered the bakery apprentice into an unused cooling room with a
|
||||
sleeping bag, a pillow and a cloth bundle of books on the pastries of
|
||||
Agendell, then locked the door behind them both. Several bottles, a tea
|
||||
service and a few implements were laid out on one of the wheeled racks
|
||||
that stood at one end of the room.</p>
|
||||
<p>Once Bread was reclined comfortably in the sleeping bag on the floor,
|
||||
Inky began the first of three sets of tests in two four-hour blocks, one
|
||||
block each for a sleep and wake tea. The toque was instructed to take
|
||||
the sleep tea and rest for four hours, after which Inky would administer
|
||||
the wake tea, having them stay up for four hours eating and reading
|
||||
before repeating with the next round of different infusions. Aside from
|
||||
Confidence leaving their meals at the door, no one disturbed their trial
|
||||
by tea. When the tests ended, Inky thanked the baker’s apprentice for
|
||||
their help and informed them they could keep the books.</p>
|
||||
<p>Three days later, Inky slipped into the storage closet where a
|
||||
slumbering man lay alone in his cot. The child was probably playing with
|
||||
the duck in their room on the other side of the Milk Market. They poured
|
||||
liquid from a vial into the man’s mouth, careful to not spill any, and
|
||||
wiped the sleeping face afterwards. After several minutes without a
|
||||
response, Inky nodded to themselves and left the building.</p>
|
||||
</blockquote>
|
||||
<p>~</p>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>After knocking at the door and waiting for it to be opened, Inky
|
||||
walked into Marvelo’s room carrying an open cardboard box in both arms.
|
||||
From the box which they deposited onto a nearby table, they pulled out a
|
||||
small rectangular wooden planter that held a single plant with a tea
|
||||
green rosette (the accompanying information card read “Echeveria
|
||||
elegans” at the top), a decorative wicker pot of mint, and an
|
||||
old-fashioned watering can, placing the items by the window.</p>
|
||||
<p>“A spot of green for the room. Mint is very resilient, just like its
|
||||
new owner.” Inky said to the agent with a wry smile.</p>
|
||||
<p>They turned back to the box and extracted the remaining items — a
|
||||
bound notebook, an antique fountain pen with refill kit and a portable
|
||||
shredder. These were set on the nightstand next to the reading lamp and
|
||||
a tray with the cold remnants of a half-eaten meal.</p>
|
||||
<p>“It has an invisible ink mode,” they said, gesturing towards the
|
||||
pen.</p>
|
||||
<p>Sitting on a vacant chair next to the table, Inky offered, “I
|
||||
probably hadn’t mentioned it before, but I used to work at a theatre. On
|
||||
one occasion I went along with the props and effects people to a few
|
||||
antique shops and a curios market while they picked up some items for
|
||||
the upcoming play at the time. They had drawn up a list, of course, but
|
||||
you never quite know what you’ll get until you’re there. One of the
|
||||
shops had a black case with a glossy top about the size of your palm
|
||||
with a sliding panel at the back and very flat keys. The shop owner said
|
||||
it was a ‘droidfour’. They don’t make things like that off the shelf
|
||||
anymore. The props guy even scouted out a working candle-powered
|
||||
raclette cooker. Said he was going to caramelise onions on it for the
|
||||
dining room scene. A bit of a waste really. Sound effects crew got
|
||||
herself a rotary dialer to attach to a keypad. She makes the most
|
||||
awfully astounding noise dashboards in all of Vay’Nullar. By the time we
|
||||
got out at the last stop, we were more than a hundred percent over
|
||||
budget. Our employer was <em>not</em> amused.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Inky grinned briefly at the memory, then continued. “Most of the
|
||||
items found uses in the next production months later. It saved the crew
|
||||
another trip.” They look at Marvelo solemnly. “Sometimes there are
|
||||
unexpected outcomes despite the best-laid plans. Instead of the light
|
||||
switch you were looking for, you find a stiff and slightly rusty crank
|
||||
at the shop. And it’s one of the most compact and effective ways of
|
||||
making creaking door sound effects you’ll ever get on a live stage.”</p>
|
||||
<p>They eyed the tray on the nightstand, then rose to their feet, taking
|
||||
the tray with them. “I will come by again another day, more often if you
|
||||
decide you can stomach my presence a bit longer, or would enjoy talking
|
||||
to a breathing fifth wall. I was told it’s an acquired taste.” Inky gave
|
||||
the occupant of the room a small smile. “Let me know if you require a
|
||||
sleeping aid. The notebook is for the things you want to say but will
|
||||
never tell anyone.”</p>
|
||||
</blockquote>
|
||||
<p>~</p>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>“The remaining agents are watching the street and market Marvelo,
|
||||
there’s nothing to worry about. We have every aspect of the building
|
||||
covered completely. You’re safe here.” Alex said to Marvelo as he gave
|
||||
him a doubtful work. Despite the mechanical surgery he was still quite
|
||||
weak, and words came to him in a startling and feeble stutter. The
|
||||
monsters attack had done more than shatter his jaw, he’d lost his edge,
|
||||
reduced to a shadow of his former self. Alex had made a habit of
|
||||
annoucing himself whenever he entered Marvelo’s recovery room, and often
|
||||
times despite that fact found himself staring down the sleek barrel of
|
||||
Marvelo’s blaster.</p>
|
||||
<p>Alex didn’t blame him. That ordeal had harmed them all in more ways
|
||||
than one.</p>
|
||||
<p>“I’ll have Lee stand watch outside your door if it helps any. She’ll
|
||||
keep you safe. Agent 3 was the most aware of any of us after all.”
|
||||
Marvelo smiled weakly. “Is there anything I can do for you friend, nip
|
||||
down to the curio store, fetch the books to keep your mind off things
|
||||
perhaps?” but Marvelo only stuttered a feeble “n-nn-no” in response.</p>
|
||||
<p>Alex sighed, “Alright friend, stay the watch. I’ll check back when I
|
||||
can”.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Marvelo might find himself behind the desk of that curio shop for
|
||||
the rest of his life. If he could stand to greet visitors without
|
||||
brandishing his weapons when they entered the room..” Alex thought to
|
||||
himself as he wandered into the kitchen to find Lee. She often made
|
||||
herself present there, helping the Empanada chef here and there in
|
||||
return for free empanadas. A sly one as always, but the position in the
|
||||
kitchen kept her appraised as to the ongoings on the restuarant. All of
|
||||
which inevitably trickled into the agents twtxt feeds.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Lee, can you keep a closer eye on Marv? He can’t stand ten minutes
|
||||
without leveling his iron at the door. The shell shock isn’t going to
|
||||
get better, but we can try” Alex whispered as he passed Lee on his way
|
||||
out the door.</p>
|
||||
<p>It was common place for the agents to pass words amongst themselves
|
||||
in the milk market in this fashion. Keeping a low hushed profile. Only
|
||||
speaking briefly in passing when necessary. It helped reduce operational
|
||||
friction, reduce the surface for someone, something, to pick up on where
|
||||
they were or what they were doing. It might have been unnecessary in the
|
||||
moment, but after all the planning, traps, guards, and forethought that
|
||||
had gone into that damned dream thing. And then what? An agent dead,
|
||||
another maimed and a shell of his former self? They couldn’t be too
|
||||
careful.</p>
|
||||
<p>Alex emerged into the midday sun on the busy street outside of the
|
||||
Milk Market. The city babbled with life, yet felt isolating, lonely. The
|
||||
crowds milled around like the gentle motion of a river, milling
|
||||
aimlessly onward. It was easy for Alex to slip into the ebb and flow of
|
||||
these rivers of people, to become lost amongst the crowd. To pretend for
|
||||
a moment to be less than he truly was. He hadn’t been sleeping since the
|
||||
dream.</p>
|
||||
<p>The insomnia hadn’t been immediately apparent to him, he felt driven
|
||||
initially; by anxiety to help his friend recover, by fear of the
|
||||
unknown, by hatred towards Blavin and his blasted baubles and the curse
|
||||
they afflicted upon his friends. Yet Alex had taken that drive and
|
||||
planned the retrofit of the airship, hired a crew using the funds he had
|
||||
gotten from his uncles life insurance policy. Sourced the parts, planned
|
||||
the project, and managed it dutifully. It was only once this was all in
|
||||
motion that he had realized he could not sleep. As a result he had taken
|
||||
on a weared and grim look to his once unassuming looks, and he knew it
|
||||
caused him to stand out, even in this sea of endlessly moving
|
||||
people.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Anonymity, such a fleeting thing” Alex thought to himself as he
|
||||
entered “Gig ’a Hertz” and picked a booth in the far corner. The cafe
|
||||
was adorned with electronic techno theme, lots of expose circuitry and
|
||||
the likes. An easy place to plant bugs, which of course agent 6 had done
|
||||
the week before. Dierks was the best at that kind of work, small
|
||||
electronics and the likes just came to him naturally. Alex appreciated
|
||||
those strengths, it made his electronic work seem ameture.</p>
|
||||
<p>A waitress brought Alex a cup of coffe and asked him if he needed
|
||||
anything else, though he gave her no more response than a simple shake
|
||||
of the head and she departed. In her wake stood a woman in a dark grey
|
||||
business suit, hair neatly done, professional in every sense.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Veronica” Alex said in a curt tone “Alex” she responded just as
|
||||
short. “I assume you know why I’m here?”</p>
|
||||
<p>Alex was perfectly aware of why this woman was here, a storm cloud in
|
||||
his otherwise sunny day. She was with Headquarters, from the Office of
|
||||
the Eye, and there were never any good meetings with Eyes.</p>
|
||||
<p>She continued without getting an answer, “Your flagrant disregard for
|
||||
our operation has nearly blown our entire organization out the water.
|
||||
And I find more and more of my men dead each time we try to make good on
|
||||
what you owe us.”</p>
|
||||
<p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about ma’am.” though Alex did, he
|
||||
was all too aware. Each man’s face seared into his brain. He took no
|
||||
pleasure in killing, but when it was him versus them he really had no
|
||||
choice.</p>
|
||||
<p>“You know damn well what I’m talking about. This isn’t some sort of
|
||||
goddamn arms race, some day you’re going to slip up, and then we’ll get
|
||||
what you owe” the woman spat at him.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Veronica, please” Alex said in a cloying fake tone “we’re at an
|
||||
impasse here. What I owe I cannot pay, and have no intention to make
|
||||
good on it. Why don’t we part ways. You release me and my team from our
|
||||
contractual obligations, and we promise not to blow the Eyes cover. I’ve
|
||||
heard whistle blowers are well received these days after all. And before
|
||||
you object, I don’t mind reducing your head count a little further to
|
||||
make my point clear.”</p>
|
||||
<p>Veronica stared at him bewildered “You wouldn’t dare! They’d draw and
|
||||
quarter you in the public square! The cosovo mission alone..” her
|
||||
sentence trailed off in stunned objection.</p>
|
||||
<p>“I absolutely would. You see Veronica, that’s the difference between
|
||||
you and I. I have nothing to lose, so it makes no difference to me.
|
||||
Either you turn a blind eye to what I’m doing, or I take down the whole
|
||||
goddamn organization with me. We go nuclear, in more ways than one.”
|
||||
Alex sad coldly.</p>
|
||||
<p>“Is that where Tsar Bomba went then? You said it was lost, to the
|
||||
bottom of the sea after Cosovo went to shit.” she said, shakily.</p>
|
||||
<p>“I can neither confirm nor deny, but I imagine the Eye would object
|
||||
to such wonton and senseless violence. I however, have no such
|
||||
suggestions. And zero intentions to assist you in preventing it either.
|
||||
So run along, go see if you can find it. You’ll need every man you can
|
||||
get if you mean to scour this city and find my insurance policy. Or, you
|
||||
can close the Eye. Report our termination to headquarters, and we both
|
||||
walk away from this dangerous arms race richer.” As Alex finished his
|
||||
demand he took one last sip from his coffee, now cold, and stood.</p>
|
||||
<p>“It’s been delightful Veronica! But I really must be away, you see my
|
||||
Uncle’s sick and I really need to finish that errand for him, but we’ll
|
||||
catch up again real soon.” Alex said charmingly, and then departed.</p>
|
||||
<p>Later that evening:</p>
|
||||
<p>“The eye is closed friends. There are few amongst us, but we are free
|
||||
from the organization now. I know this is worrying, we’ll no longer have
|
||||
the Eye’s intel, or their equipment. But we have our own here at the
|
||||
Milk Market. And from this point forward, we have but one mission.” Alex
|
||||
pulled the crystal necklace from his shirt “We find the rest of the
|
||||
pieces of Neddas and assemble them, then we make each and every one of
|
||||
these fuckers pay. The Eye, Blavin, it doesn’t matter. With these, we
|
||||
can and will forge a new world order.”</p>
|
||||
</blockquote>
|
||||
<p>~</p>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>Make them pay? New world order? Inky stood frozen in the hallway
|
||||
outside the door, cardboard box in hand.</p>
|
||||
<p>It was ill timing; whenever Inky had dropped by the Milk Market, it
|
||||
had usually been in the afternoons, before heading on to the healers’
|
||||
camp or running other errands. They had emerged from another four-day
|
||||
shift that afternoon rather than early morning, after a healer had
|
||||
arrived in place of another who had fallen sick the previous evening. A
|
||||
few hours and a change of clothes later, it was almost supper time. Inky
|
||||
had brought along a book on coping with trauma and passed by the market
|
||||
to pick up dessert – an orange pie and a jar of berry preserves – with
|
||||
the plan to sit with the morose agent for a while, doing some listening
|
||||
of a different sort if the latter was ready to talk about his
|
||||
ordeal.</p>
|
||||
<p>A confrontation would have drawn the lines where each of them stood,
|
||||
not that bursting into the room with five armed agents was necessarily
|
||||
advisable. Worse, a standoff would upset Marvelo, who was immensely
|
||||
loyal to the sysorcerer, and unravel any potential progress made towards
|
||||
helping the man get back on his feet. At any rate, they would know Inky
|
||||
had been in, so Inky simply left the box by the door with a hastily
|
||||
scribbled note that they were unwell and would come in again on another
|
||||
day. Descending the stairs, they wandered through the city to the wharf,
|
||||
where they sat for some time, any appetite for dessert having
|
||||
evaporated, staring out at the rising tides.</p>
|
||||
<p>Was this what the Fair One had really promised in addition to the
|
||||
pendant the sysorcerer now wore? Power and vengeance over those who they
|
||||
deemed had wronged them? Were they all going to end up like the
|
||||
assassin, in a nebulous limbo between the living and the dead? Who else
|
||||
was on their list? Despite the sysorcerer’s gesture of camaraderie at
|
||||
the docks that night, was Inky among the names now that Inky had no use
|
||||
to them, once it sank in that the Fair One’s pact essentially assured
|
||||
success on the missions, or when the crystals had been collected? The
|
||||
dream ritual had been partly Inky’s suggestion, and they had wrecked one
|
||||
of the sysorcerer’s beetles back at the Runesocesius. Some secret groups
|
||||
have disposed of people for much less. Did Master Corraidhín oversaw
|
||||
this cabal? It was difficult to picture the elderly wizard looking upon
|
||||
the meeting with approval, but could Inky say they truly knew the uncle
|
||||
or nephew well?</p>
|
||||
<p>Maybe all of this didn’t matter, if it was the only way.</p>
|
||||
</blockquote>
|
||||
<h2 id="current-story">Current Story</h2>
|
||||
<p>The current story arc.</p>
|
||||
<p>You can subscribe to these updates with the rss feed.</p>
|
||||
<p><a href="https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml"
|
||||
class="uri">https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml</a></p>
|
||||
<h3 id="00074">00074</h3>
|
||||
<p>Blavin’s vouchers enable you to far exceed your modest budget for
|
||||
retrofitting the cyberplasm balloonship for space travel.</p>
|
||||
<p>Not only were you able to get a portable atmosphere and a starhelm
|
||||
from the ever resourceful Wandering Bazaar. But you were also able to
|
||||
mount a ballista on a turret in the center of the main deck so you can
|
||||
fire large bolts in nearly any direction. And even a mangonel on the top
|
||||
deck: a long range trebuchet that takes more time to load, aim, and
|
||||
fire; but which does considerably more damage than the shorter-range
|
||||
ballista.</p>
|
||||
<p>Above the Milk Market, a crew of Alex’s agents get the ship ready for
|
||||
departure. They have stoked the burners, and the resident sunspoke has
|
||||
happily filled the balloons with enough lift for the ship to start to
|
||||
pull and strain at its tethers.</p>
|
||||
<p>You cut the rope loose, and Vay’Nullar falls away beneath you as the
|
||||
ship rises into the sky.</p>
|
||||
<p>When the air becomes thinner and the sunspoke begins to sputter
|
||||
somewhat, you switch off the burner move the sunspoke into a cold locker
|
||||
in the galley to induce hibernation so that it doesn’t accidentally burn
|
||||
through your limited reserve of oxygen.</p>
|
||||
<p>You activate the portable atmosphere, a small block of newtonian
|
||||
covered with arcane runes and affixed to the cargo hold. Newtonian is an
|
||||
alchemical substance made of pure density. There are entire volumes in
|
||||
Nullar’s cosmic library devoted to the timelines that met an abrupt,
|
||||
violent end upon the discovery of the substance. Luckily, the alchemists
|
||||
of Basmentaria in your timeline were able to stabilize the element
|
||||
before all of creation collapsed into a singularity. And now it is
|
||||
commonplace for runewardens to attune small pieces of the stuff to
|
||||
spacefaring ships so that each ship is able to sustain its own unique
|
||||
gravity plane. In this way, each ship retains an amount of breathable
|
||||
atmosphere relative to its size; and starsailors are able to confidently
|
||||
walk along the top (and bottom!) of their craft.</p>
|
||||
<p>Next you head to the starhelm.</p>
|
||||
<p>Even when it comes to magic, there are certain principles that tend
|
||||
to hold true. One such princple—when it comes to starsailing, at
|
||||
least—is the conservation of energy. There are lots of different kinds
|
||||
of starhelms. But they all consume <em>something</em> in order to propel
|
||||
your ship across the stars.</p>
|
||||
<p>However endless the treasures of the Wandering Bazaar may seem,
|
||||
starhelms remain quite rare. You consider yourself lucky to find the one
|
||||
that you did. It could have been a costly Forgehelm, requiring constant
|
||||
fuel in the form of precious stones and powerful artifacts. Or an even
|
||||
more costly Bloodhelm, slowly siphoning away your life essence.</p>
|
||||
<p>Yes, all things considered you could have done much worse than the
|
||||
Emotionhelm that you purchased. All that it requires of you to keep the
|
||||
ship on course is that you scream, rant and rave, and bawl and cry at it
|
||||
periodically.</p>
|
||||
<p>You imagine it ought to be quite therapeutic, actually.</p>
|
||||
<p>Portable atmosphere activated, and having fed the starhelm a bit of
|
||||
melancholia, the ship finally exits the planet’s atmosphere. Your crew
|
||||
takes down the balloons once they start to deflate and stores them in
|
||||
the cargo hold. And you set sail for Lua, the Red Lady.</p>
|
||||
<p>In the distance, you see a pod of gargantuan aetherwaels drifting
|
||||
through the void. Nearby, you see a small school of space guppies swim
|
||||
by and then quickly scatter as a space gull dives at them and tries to
|
||||
scoop up a quick meal.</p>
|
||||
<p>You have a couple day’s of travel ahead of you, and the very
|
||||
non-empty void of space on all sides of you.</p>
|
||||
<p>WHAT DO YOU DO?</p>
|
||||
<h2 id="spoilers">Spoilers</h2>
|
||||
<details>
|
||||
<summary>
|
||||
|
|
@ -8486,12 +8964,6 @@ class="uri">https://caput-caprae.blogspot.com/2020/11/using-templates.html</a></
|
|||
</ul>
|
||||
<p>And if there’s anything else creative or original herein, then it
|
||||
probably came from the feverish minds of my players!</p>
|
||||
<h2 id="afterword">Afterword</h2>
|
||||
<p>I don’t know what I’m going to put here, but I didn’t want this
|
||||
document to just abruptly end. So here you go: a kind farewell and a
|
||||
more gentle conclusion.</p>
|
||||
<p>Thanks for reading.</p>
|
||||
<p>dozens@tilde.team</p>
|
||||
<h2 id="appendix-a-dramatis-personae">Appendix A: Dramatis Personae</h2>
|
||||
<h3 id="alex">Alex</h3>
|
||||
<details>
|
||||
|
|
|
|||
Loading…
Reference in New Issue