From bdd3a2550aa263c1c850f430e1dc643433186185 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: "Christopher P. Brown" Date: Fri, 28 Oct 2022 20:00:03 -0600 Subject: [PATCH] macros --- justfile | 8 +- macros | 23 +- macros.m4f | 113 +++++++ src/about.md | 9 +- src/meta.md | 2 +- src/notes.md | 1 + www/index.html | 14 +- www/rss.xml | 780 +++++++++++++++++++++++----------------------- www/spoilers.html | 16 +- 9 files changed, 556 insertions(+), 410 deletions(-) create mode 100644 macros.m4f diff --git a/justfile b/justfile index 721d6ce..8504140 100644 --- a/justfile +++ b/justfile @@ -2,11 +2,15 @@ default: just --list --unsorted +# only run if changes are made to macros +freeze: + m4 -F macros.m4f macros + # build referee facing html spoilers: cat basement.order \ | xargs pandoc -f markdown -t markdown \ - | m4 macros - \ + | m4 -R macros.m4f - \ | pandoc \ -t html \ --standalone \ @@ -19,7 +23,7 @@ spoilers: public: cat basement.order \ | xargs -I % pandoc -f markdown -t markdown --template=templates/public.tmpl % \ - | m4 macros - \ + | m4 -R macros.m4f - \ | pandoc -t html \ --standalone \ --toc \ diff --git a/macros b/macros index 4f44684..53c1d76 100644 --- a/macros +++ b/macros @@ -1,5 +1,18 @@ -changequote(`')dnl -define(, 234)dnl -define(, )dnl -define(, )dnl -changequote()dnl +divert(-1)dnl +changequote(`') + +# Constants +define(, ) +define(, ) +define(, ) +define(, ) + +# System Calls +define(, ) +define(, ) +define(, ) +define(, ) +define(, ) + +changequote() +divert(0)dnl diff --git a/macros.m4f b/macros.m4f new file mode 100644 index 0000000..466f288 --- /dev/null +++ b/macros.m4f @@ -0,0 +1,113 @@ +# This is a frozen state file generated by GNU M4 1.4.6 +V1 +Q0,1 +' +F6,6 +substrsubstr +F5,5 +ifdefifdef +F6,6 +syscmdsyscmd +F8,8 +patsubstpatsubst +F4,4 +defndefn +F7,7 +dumpdefdumpdef +F4,4 +evaleval +T11,8 +zxSTARTDATE20220713 +T12,75 +zxNOMESSAGESesyscmd(grep '\[tildepals\] BASEMENT QUEST' zxINBOXPATH | wc -l | zxSTRIP ) +F6,6 +divnumdivnum +F5,5 +indirindir +F5,5 +indexindex +F6,6 +formatformat +T7,57 +zxWORDSesyscmd(pandoc -t plain www/index.html | wc -w | zxSTRIP) +T7,0 +__gnu__ +F6,6 +m4exitm4exit +F9,9 +changecomchangecom +T8,0 +__unix__ +F8,8 +translittranslit +F8,8 +errprinterrprint +F4,4 +decrdecr +F8,8 +maketempmaketemp +F7,7 +includeinclude +T10,61 +zxPOSTRATEesyscmd(echo "scale=2; zxNOMESSAGES / zxDAYS" | bc | zxSTRIP) +F11,11 +__program____program__ +F6,6 +ifelseifelse +F5,5 +shiftshift +T5,3 +zxWPM234 +F6,6 +sysvalsysval +T11,94 +zxINBOXPATH/Users/cb/Library/Thunderbird/Profiles/o0gmn24o.default-release/ImapMail/imap.tilde.team/INBOX +F8,8 +__line____line__ +F6,6 +m4wrapm4wrap +F7,7 +esyscmdesyscmd +F4,4 +incrincr +T9,46 +zxMINUTESesyscmd(echo "zxWORDS / zxWPM" | bc | zxSTRIP) +F6,6 +divertdivert +F3,3 +dnldnl +T7,30 +zxSTRIP tr '\n' ' ' | sed -e 's/ //g' +F8,8 +undivertundivert +F8,8 +sincludesinclude +F6,6 +definedefine +F8,8 +undefineundefine +F6,6 +regexpregexp +F9,9 +debugfiledebugfile +F7,7 +builtinbuiltin +T6,85 +zxDAYSesyscmd(echo "(`gdate +%s` - `gdate +%s -d zxSTARTDATE`) / 86400" | bc | tr '\n' ' ') +F8,8 +__file____file__ +F7,7 +pushdefpushdef +F11,11 +changequotechangequote +F9,9 +debugmodedebugmode +F8,8 +traceofftraceoff +F7,7 +traceontraceon +F3,3 +lenlen +F6,6 +popdefpopdef +# End of frozen state file diff --git a/src/about.md b/src/about.md index 4811070..c1d10b1 100644 --- a/src/about.md +++ b/src/about.md @@ -4,9 +4,13 @@ created: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600 updated: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600 public: yes --- -## About +## Stats -Total length: zxWORDS words / zxMINUTES minutes +Total length: zxWORDS words / zxMINUTES minute read. + +There have been zxNOMESSAGES messages posted over zxDAYS days since the first post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of zxPOSTRATE. + +## About This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over email. @@ -15,3 +19,4 @@ This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over email. You can [read from the beginning](#chapter-1), or jump into the [current story arc](#current-story). If you're not on the mailing list and want to keep up with the story, you can [subscribe to the rss feed](https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml). + diff --git a/src/meta.md b/src/meta.md index 0cc8693..6e903b5 100644 --- a/src/meta.md +++ b/src/meta.md @@ -19,7 +19,7 @@ We're gonna play this by ear, and cross each bridge only when we get to it. - Cadence: I'll move the story along roughly once a week. Hopefully that gives everybody time to post something and participate. -- Inclusion over realism: If you disappear for a while and then come back, your character will immediately reappear as though they've been there the whole time. Come and go as you please. Open door policy! +- Open Table / Inclusion over realism: If you disappear for a while and then come back, your character will immediately reappear as though they've been there the whole time. Come and go as you please. Open door policy! Drop in and drop out as you please. - Linearity: Respond only to the most recent email in the thread. (We might play around with time later, but for now, let's keep it simple.) diff --git a/src/notes.md b/src/notes.md index 55d9113..782ed1e 100644 --- a/src/notes.md +++ b/src/notes.md @@ -48,6 +48,7 @@ todo: - [ ] mio's (Inky's) Handy Duffer Discette = HD Diskette = better stay away from magnets!! - [ ] tea omen: abacus, feather, wide building, lynx - [ ] MidJourney omen: priestly blood, demon +- [ ] palindromes: taco cat, reward drawer, tin unit, lap pal, evil olive - [ ] The Benefactor is Nullar - [ ] Blavin is a secret agent, working for the Golden Iris, a secret society that wants to 'create balance' by creating a fourth god - [ ] Nullar got tired of being a god and wanted to die, and Neddas agreed to help him. Shit went bad and turned Liandt to stone, and Nullar's leg to stone. Now Nullar is trying to gather the Ginnarak crystals to assemble the *God Slayer* to attempt once more to end his own life. diff --git a/www/index.html b/www/index.html index 88afde8..c327c96 100644 --- a/www/index.html +++ b/www/index.html @@ -207,6 +207,7 @@ +

Stats

+

Total length: 23421 words / 100 minute read.

+

There have been 97 messages posted over 107 days since the first post +on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .90.

About

-

Total length: 23381 words / 99 minutes

This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over email.

https://t.co/gA6hV6VKqm

  • Cadence: I’ll move the story along roughly once a week. Hopefully that gives everybody time to post something and participate.

    • -

  • Inclusion over realism: If you disappear for a while and then -come back, your character will immediately reappear as though they’ve -been there the whole time. Come and go as you please. Open door -policy!

    • +

  • Open Table / Inclusion over realism: If you disappear for a while +and then come back, your character will immediately reappear as though +they’ve been there the whole time. Come and go as you please. Open door +policy! Drop in and drop out as you please.

  • Linearity: Respond only to the most recent email in the thread. (We might play around with time later, but for now, let’s keep it simple.)

    • diff --git a/www/rss.xml b/www/rss.xml index 5aa3b53..272f755 100644 --- a/www/rss.xml +++ b/www/rss.xml @@ -5,396 +5,6 @@ BASEMENT QWEST https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml Friends having ADVENTURES! Huzzah! - - 27 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 27 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 14:14:31 --0600 - Fri, 28 Oct 2022 10:36:42 -0600 - - 00027 -
    -

    Inky stares down at the package, weighing it on one - hand.

    -

    It was lighter than it should be given the density of the - contents within, wrapped in straw and thick brown - weight-absorbent parcel paper for dry goods. Most of the - clientele were merchants and cultists from other parts of the - continent who ordered pallets to be shipped back from the port - town and sold to select boutique grocers or spilled on altars. - Inside was a block of congealed synthetic blood shaped like a - mud brick, the dark crimson almost black under the shop’s dim - light.

    -

    It was sheer happenstance that Inky had found this - particular supplier. Having been informed heir boat to the - shipwreck would not arrive for several hours, the members of - their merry tea party had wandered off to enjoy the local - sights while they waited. Inky had inquired about the - hemogoblins and learned in passing that there was a district - at the western edge of the town where a smaller group had set - up warehouses, which would save them a two-day trip deep into - the Hartlands. The hemogoblins in the district were primarily - wholesalers, and it had taken some convincing before one of - the proprietors agreed to sell a block of it, along with - assurances Inky would purchase exclusively from him next time - and in larger quantities.

    -

    Thin fingers fiddle with the string before the package was - set to one side.

    -

    What were they doing?

    -

    If quenching the thirst were so simple, wouldn’t any - student of magic have already thought of it, let alone an - experienced sysorceror? In all likelihood he had already known - the inevitable, but was too polite to refuse Inky’s funny - concoctions. Maybe deep down, Inky already knew too, but - didn’t want to say it out loud. That the long feather they - thought they had seen among the tea leaves was actually a - dagger. That they hadn’t wanted to admit some problems could - not be whisked away with some tincture or another. That they - had failed, again.

    -

    They hadn’t searched enough for better ingredients to go - into the pudding, hadn’t reacted fast enough after noticing - the sword had abruptly disappeared, hadn’t thrown the large - platter of mouldy meat the terrified waitress next to them had - been holding at Blavin’s head, or something. The sword had - gotten what it demanded, and Inky couldn’t be angry with it — - it had never been subtle about what it wanted. Had the blood - pudding worsened the effects? Potions had never been on Inky’s - menu. Brewing inks and teas with certain mild effects was - straightforward enough, but curing chronic ailments was firmly - in healers’ territory and just as bewildering. While it may be - true nobody could be held to account for the actions of - another not in full control of themselves, and hardly those of - a rogue weapon with a mind of its own, sticking their nose in - other people’s affairs was the surest way to get into trouble, - a fact Inky still has difficulty learning after decades of - wandering the continent.

    -

    Would this substrate even work? Maybe it acted differently - for cursed objects than coffin sleepers. Having brought it - back and now aboard the ship, how would they even give it to - the wizard? Should they wait and made sure Master Corraidhín - was truly rested and recovered, despite his insistence he was - more than fine? Would it be an insulting reminder of weakness, - despite the wizard having proven unusual mental fortitude in - staving off the screams for blood as long as he had? Was this - more of the same, adding to what they had (not) done?

    -

    After a long moment, Inky rolls the package with the - producers’ leaflet haphazardly in an old sailor’s rags still - reeking of cheap alcohol, and passing by the wizard’s empty - cabin on the way to the deck, places the messy bundle on the - floorboards two steps from the door. Let the fates decide this - one, because Inky’s magic 0 ball sure doesn’t make the best - life choices.

    -
    -

    Blavin has arranged transportation to the shipwreck ahead - of time. All you have to do is head down to the docks and meet - your contact, Three-Fingered Gerald, at a seedy dive bar named - Inquire Within Upon Everything.

    -

    Inquire Within is as eclectic and gaudy as the name would - imply. The bar serves as an extensive and impressive piece of - living documentation, drawing heavily on the port town’s - cosmopolitan mixture of culture. Every kind of style, cuisine, - decor, and beverage can be found here mishmashed together - irregardless of good taste. Its contents are encyclopedic and - claustrophobic. And yet it is not without its own peculiar - brand of overwhelming, garish charm.

    -

    You find Mister Three-Fingered at the bar entertaining his - fellow patrons with a grotesque sleight of hand routine that - involves passing his gold-plated false eye from its socket, to - either hand, inside his mouth, and back with lots of flourish, - fanfare, and misdirection along the way.

    -

    He is a merry, boisterous sailor short one eye, half an - ear, several fingers, and—he confesses to you—the heel of his - left foot. “It’s why I walk so slow, you see.” The other - barflies call him “Lucky” Three-Fingered Gerald. Because a - certain kind of man—and Gerald is one of them—can never have - enough nicknames. After you buy him a drink or three, he - escorts you out of Inquire Within and to the slip where the - sloop Diamond Howler is docked. Its captain, Enid - Barlow, welcomes you aboard.

    -

    Before long, Diamond Howler pulls out under the - command of Captain Barlow and First Mate “Lucky” - Three-Fingered Gerald. The site isn’t too far off the coast, - and you arrive fairly quickly.

    -

    “Aye, here she is. The SS RSS.” says Captain Barlow - mournfully. “You can’t see her from up here. But you rest - assured, she’s down there, resting on the seabed. She was the - best cargo runner on the Sugrin back in her day! Distributing - goods up and down the coast. Until the day she disappeared. - Nobody knew what happened to her, not for sure. Still don’t. - But at least we know where she wound up!”

    -

    While the captain reminisces, Three-Fingered Gerald drags a - large water tank across the deck, sloshing water over the edge - with each step. Translucent orb-like jellyfish wobble around - and bump into each other inside the tank, releasing little - effervescent bubbles that fizzle and pop when they collide. - “Here we go!” announces Mister Three-Fingered, depositing the - tank of jellies in front of you. “Sailed through a big bloom - of breathing bells just last week, didn’t we! Managed to scoop - up a whole bunch of the little suckers. You ever use a - breathing bell before? No? Aw, it’s easy! Ya just pull one on - over your head like a hood, and it’ll breathe for ya while - you’re below the waves!”

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

    NOTE: We just covered a lot of narrative ground. Feel free - to react to anything that happened between arriving at the - docks, meeting Gerald and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding - the Diamond Howler, and sailing to the site of the wreck.

    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     - - 26 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 26 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 --0600 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600 - - 00026 -
    -

    Inky slowly approaches Master Corraidhín and taps lightly - on the sleeve of his robes to get his attention. Between - Inky’s tugging and Jarrod’s strong, steady hand, they manage - to hoist the wizard to his feet.

    -

    With a brief glance at the hobbit on the floor then a nod - to Jarrod, Inky leaves the nightclub with the wizard. The - duck, having emptied the plate of corn chips in record time, - follows them shortly after.

    -

    The trek back to the Milk Market is mostly silent aside - from the occasional mutter and stumbling curse, the mage - seemingly having fallen asleep as soon as he landed on the cot - in the loft. Inky retreats downstairs after leaving a jug of - water, a mug and a small packet of kuding leaves beside the - bed.

    -

    Exiting through the back door into the night, Inky finds a - dark corner in a dusty abandoned house, and cries.

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    ” … and then the Orc Maiden said: ‘That’s not my - club!’”

    -

    The room roars with laughter, and Jarrod moves to the bar - and puts a bag of coin down. “Serve drinks until this runs - out!” Leaning over the bar to the bartender, Jarrod adds in a - whisper: “I owe a favour to Lucy’s Basement for the trouble. - Call it in when needed.”

    -

    Jarrod saunters over to Blavin, on the floor in pain. From - his pack, Jarrod retrieves a med kit and begins to bandage the - wound.

    -

    As Blavin opens his mouth, likely intending to raise all - kinds of hell, Jarrod pulls tight on the bandage he is - currently applying, drawing a curse from the hobbit. “Shut it! - Let’s be clear. You’ve hired us for a dangerous set of jobs, - with the understanding that we’re dangerous people. There may - be ‘accidents’ on occasion. You’ve learned something today, - and what’s more, you lived to absorb your new wisdom.”

    -

    Jarrod grins as he finishes with the bandage. “We will - finish what we have started. We’re probably the team with the - best chances, I’m sure you’ll agree. Are you going to back the - winning play here? Either way, your decision won’t change our - plans. I’m sure you know how to take the win.”

    -

    Jarrod pats the hobbit’s good shoulder in a friendly, but - dismissive, way, then turns and saunters out the door, trading - small quips with his new (and now very drunk) tavern - friends.

    -
    -

    You are at a small port town on the northern tip of - Agendell, just past the Rana’For Valley. The sun is bright and - the wind blowing in from the Sugrin Sea to the east is cool - and salty. The floating island-city of Vay’Neddas, bridging - Agendell and Primora, can be seen very faintly in the distance - hanging in the northern sky.

    -

    Your faithful multibeast is carrying all of your supplies - and gear, which were generously provided to you by the - indefatigable Blavin Blandfoot. His arm in a sling, he kept up - a constant nervous chatter as he saw you off on your journey - to recover the second Ginnarak Crystal.

    -

    From here, you can easily provision a boat to take you out - to the site of the shipwreck just off the coast.

    -

    Or, optionally, you are very close to the Hartlands. It - would be quite easy to make a quick visit to hemogoblins and - pick up some synthetic blood for your experiments with the - Sword of Yam’L.

    -

    The sword, incidentally, after finally tasting the blood of - “evil”, has remained sated and entirely inert and unresponsive - this whole time.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO:

    -
      -
    1. TO THE SHIPWRECK
      2. -
    2. BLOODQUEST
      3. -
    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     - - 23 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 23 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52 --0600 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52 -0600 - - 00023 -
    -

    Why no, we don’t mind much about competition, certainly - nothing wrong. Can’t imagine someone to put all of their eggs - in one basket, especially when whatever it is they desire is - so valuable.

    -

    That said, our benefactor must be pretty eager to get these - crystals if he’s willing to send out team after team. I mean, - we’re team 43, that’s a lot of people to pay and a lot of - eagerness to find these crystals. Why is that? What benefit - are these shiny rocks to them? What even is their purpose in - retrieving them?

    -
    -

    “Oh, no no no, child,” Blavin titters as he takes a sip of - his ever-present martini. “You must understand, the Benefactor - is a singularly dedicated collector, and has been for ages! - There are—and have been!—many other retrieval teams, yes. But - not all of them have been for the crystals. And some of them - were formed, active, and disbanded long before you or I - arrived on the scene.” He winks at you conspiratorially.

    -
    -

    I would postulate, based upon the magical wards we had to - bypass, the cadre of gaurds that needed to be dispatched, and - the gigantic moth monster that rested beneath it, that these - crystals aren’t meant to go anywhere.

    -

    Now I’m not trying to point fingers here, morality is many - shades of gray, and it isn’t really my job to suss out what - you’re doing. But I’m a curious sysorceor, and when I see a - chance to learn I seize upon the moment. There’s something - here you’re not telling us, and I for one and keen to know - it.

    -
    -

    “I wouldn’t worry your wizened old brow about it,” Blavin - chuckles, sloshing his drink. “The Benefactor’s concern is - precisely the same as yours! These items are of enormous - cultural and historical significance, to say nothing of their - well of concentrated arcane energies. They’re dangerous just - sitting out there in the world. Who knows who might come - across one and use it for nefarious purposes.”

    -

    Yam’L’s eye widens and it seems to shudder at the mere - suggestion of evil.

    -

    “Did you say this one was in the hands of a giant moth?” - Blavin shudders with revulsion. “My word, man! Do you really - think such an overgrown insect is an appropriate guardian for - a beloved and dangerous cultural icon such as the Ginnarak - Crystal? Surely not!”

    -

    “No,” he sits back with a satisfied smile, “I think we must - all agree that they are safer in the public collection of a - competent and benevolent curator. Then everybody can enjoy - them safely!”

    -
    -

    META: I’m gonna preface the sword speech with this to make - it quicker to write

    -

    Y’aml
    - I like what you’re putting down here, this guy is DEFINITELY - evil. Nobody asks loads of people to steal things for them - without being evil. I say we stab him, nice and good, right in - the gut. Maybe 6 or 7 times. I’m positive nobody will mind. - Evil people steal things, we saw that inky creature stealing - things from that vault, definitely evil. (singsong) Evil evil - evil, stab stab stab, make the evil go away with every little - stab~

    -

    Corraidhin to Y’aml
    - Dear sysadmins, once again, inky is not evil. They were - borrowing something that had been cast on the ground, - abandoned. Giving a tea set a good home is far from evil. But - you might be onto something about this Blavin fellow, but we - can’t just stab someone in a busy pub! Besides you’re a sword, - and stabbing someone in a pub is the job of a dagger. So - unless you can transform into the Dagger of Y’aml I think - we’re out of luck here.

    -
    -

    Yam’L gets a curious look in its eye at the suggestion. - “CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!” it cries directly into your mind. It - squeezes its eye shut and trembles with intense concentration. - With great effort, the sword shrinks itself down to the size - of a dagger, shunting its extra mass off into yamlspace.

    -

    “There!” it says breathlessly, opening its eye wearily. - “Now, Hardy Bear. You promised..” it continues, its eye - glinting with growing ferocity. “Let’s. STAB. THE HOBBIT!”

    -
    -

    While the wizard pressed Blavin about the crystal’s - secrets, Inky let their attention wander slightly around the - table.

    -

    They had agreed that Master Corraidhín and Jarrod, being - most wise and well-spoken, would question Blavin about the - crystal before they set off on their next mission. The party - had also befriended the duck unofficially dubbed their - marketing manager after the fluffy little creature had trailed - Inky all the way back to the Milk Market. Said creature now - occupied a small office to one side of the building complete - with a fountain, feathered up pillow and all the rummy worms - it can eat. Inky had tried getting the duck to communicate - with words by making them little croutons etched with letters, - but the only ones they would gobble up were Q-U-A-C-K.

    -
    -

    Your marketing manager moves into its office at the Milk - Market and seems to really be enjoying itself. It joins you at - Blavin’s table at Lucy’s Basement, cleaning its feathers and - chortling merrily to itself.

    -

    You and your tablemates take turns feeding it croutons and - bits of soft pretzel, and it seems very happy and content with - that.

    -
    -

    A familiar prickle, but passed quickly — Inky had gotten - used to the glares directed at them by the sysorceor’s - gleaming sword and resisted returning the stare with an - eyeroll. Watching Stabby eyeing up their case manager over - Master Corraidhín’s shoulder reminded Inky of a conversation - they had overheard a few evenings ago between two pale coffin - sleepers about a new product from the hemogoblins that was - said to quench the thirst for longer than the leading brand. - They might be able to find some at the town of Plasma, which - sits by the Hartlands on the way to the shipwreck. It seems - the milky blood pudding could do with some improvement.

    -
    -

    You note on Blavin’s map that the Hemogoblin region is - indeed on the way to the shipwreck. At least, it’s not that - far out of the way. You reckon their synthetic blood product - would indeed be a much better substitute for the real thing - than the milk you’ve been feeding the thirsty sword thus - far.

    -

    Or, at the very least, you’ll get a new variant of the - blood pudding recipe you’ve been working on!

    -
    -

    Maybe someone else’s mood will be improved in the meantime? - Before setting out for their meeting with Blavin, Inky slipped - into the kitchens downstairs and left the empanada chef a - trick-and-treat. A plate of honeyed breadfruit and ghost - pepper tapas sat on an icebox atop a new pair of Blueberry - oven mittens with a pattern of tiny smiling green turtles. - Tucked inside one mitten was a slip of paper (regrettably - inedible) that simply read “BACK SOON :)”. A tapa recipe, - which included a note on adapting the toppings for pan frying, - was printed on the reverse in neat blocky letters and - sandalwood ink.

    -
    -

    Enrique wakes in the middle of the night to start baking - the next day’s breads and empanadas. He frowns thoughtfully - when he sees yet another mysterious gift from across the room. - Again? What little elf must have taken up residence in his - shop? But his face cracks into a smile when he sees the - presentation and the oven mitts. And the smile becomes a - bonafide grin when he tastes the fare and finds the - recipe.

    -

    He taps his chin thoughtfully with one green claw as he - skims the note and looks through his pantry. He chops some - veggies and starts pan frying them.

    -

    Later, when the oven dings, he smiles to himself as he - pulls on the new turtle pattern oven mitts and opens it.

    -

    > A) MORE QUESTIONING, OR B) TIME FOR SHIPWRECK?

    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     24 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) @@ -649,6 +259,146 @@ ]]> + + 27 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 27 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 14:14:31 +-0600 + Fri, 28 Oct 2022 10:36:42 -0600 + + 00027 +
    +

    Inky stares down at the package, weighing it on one + hand.

    +

    It was lighter than it should be given the density of the + contents within, wrapped in straw and thick brown + weight-absorbent parcel paper for dry goods. Most of the + clientele were merchants and cultists from other parts of the + continent who ordered pallets to be shipped back from the port + town and sold to select boutique grocers or spilled on altars. + Inside was a block of congealed synthetic blood shaped like a + mud brick, the dark crimson almost black under the shop’s dim + light.

    +

    It was sheer happenstance that Inky had found this + particular supplier. Having been informed heir boat to the + shipwreck would not arrive for several hours, the members of + their merry tea party had wandered off to enjoy the local + sights while they waited. Inky had inquired about the + hemogoblins and learned in passing that there was a district + at the western edge of the town where a smaller group had set + up warehouses, which would save them a two-day trip deep into + the Hartlands. The hemogoblins in the district were primarily + wholesalers, and it had taken some convincing before one of + the proprietors agreed to sell a block of it, along with + assurances Inky would purchase exclusively from him next time + and in larger quantities.

    +

    Thin fingers fiddle with the string before the package was + set to one side.

    +

    What were they doing?

    +

    If quenching the thirst were so simple, wouldn’t any + student of magic have already thought of it, let alone an + experienced sysorceror? In all likelihood he had already known + the inevitable, but was too polite to refuse Inky’s funny + concoctions. Maybe deep down, Inky already knew too, but + didn’t want to say it out loud. That the long feather they + thought they had seen among the tea leaves was actually a + dagger. That they hadn’t wanted to admit some problems could + not be whisked away with some tincture or another. That they + had failed, again.

    +

    They hadn’t searched enough for better ingredients to go + into the pudding, hadn’t reacted fast enough after noticing + the sword had abruptly disappeared, hadn’t thrown the large + platter of mouldy meat the terrified waitress next to them had + been holding at Blavin’s head, or something. The sword had + gotten what it demanded, and Inky couldn’t be angry with it — + it had never been subtle about what it wanted. Had the blood + pudding worsened the effects? Potions had never been on Inky’s + menu. Brewing inks and teas with certain mild effects was + straightforward enough, but curing chronic ailments was firmly + in healers’ territory and just as bewildering. While it may be + true nobody could be held to account for the actions of + another not in full control of themselves, and hardly those of + a rogue weapon with a mind of its own, sticking their nose in + other people’s affairs was the surest way to get into trouble, + a fact Inky still has difficulty learning after decades of + wandering the continent.

    +

    Would this substrate even work? Maybe it acted differently + for cursed objects than coffin sleepers. Having brought it + back and now aboard the ship, how would they even give it to + the wizard? Should they wait and made sure Master Corraidhín + was truly rested and recovered, despite his insistence he was + more than fine? Would it be an insulting reminder of weakness, + despite the wizard having proven unusual mental fortitude in + staving off the screams for blood as long as he had? Was this + more of the same, adding to what they had (not) done?

    +

    After a long moment, Inky rolls the package with the + producers’ leaflet haphazardly in an old sailor’s rags still + reeking of cheap alcohol, and passing by the wizard’s empty + cabin on the way to the deck, places the messy bundle on the + floorboards two steps from the door. Let the fates decide this + one, because Inky’s magic 0 ball sure doesn’t make the best + life choices.

    +
    +

    Blavin has arranged transportation to the shipwreck ahead + of time. All you have to do is head down to the docks and meet + your contact, Three-Fingered Gerald, at a seedy dive bar named + Inquire Within Upon Everything.

    +

    Inquire Within is as eclectic and gaudy as the name would + imply. The bar serves as an extensive and impressive piece of + living documentation, drawing heavily on the port town’s + cosmopolitan mixture of culture. Every kind of style, cuisine, + decor, and beverage can be found here mishmashed together + irregardless of good taste. Its contents are encyclopedic and + claustrophobic. And yet it is not without its own peculiar + brand of overwhelming, garish charm.

    +

    You find Mister Three-Fingered at the bar entertaining his + fellow patrons with a grotesque sleight of hand routine that + involves passing his gold-plated false eye from its socket, to + either hand, inside his mouth, and back with lots of flourish, + fanfare, and misdirection along the way.

    +

    He is a merry, boisterous sailor short one eye, half an + ear, several fingers, and—he confesses to you—the heel of his + left foot. “It’s why I walk so slow, you see.” The other + barflies call him “Lucky” Three-Fingered Gerald. Because a + certain kind of man—and Gerald is one of them—can never have + enough nicknames. After you buy him a drink or three, he + escorts you out of Inquire Within and to the slip where the + sloop Diamond Howler is docked. Its captain, Enid + Barlow, welcomes you aboard.

    +

    Before long, Diamond Howler pulls out under the + command of Captain Barlow and First Mate “Lucky” + Three-Fingered Gerald. The site isn’t too far off the coast, + and you arrive fairly quickly.

    +

    “Aye, here she is. The SS RSS.” says Captain Barlow + mournfully. “You can’t see her from up here. But you rest + assured, she’s down there, resting on the seabed. She was the + best cargo runner on the Sugrin back in her day! Distributing + goods up and down the coast. Until the day she disappeared. + Nobody knew what happened to her, not for sure. Still don’t. + But at least we know where she wound up!”

    +

    While the captain reminisces, Three-Fingered Gerald drags a + large water tank across the deck, sloshing water over the edge + with each step. Translucent orb-like jellyfish wobble around + and bump into each other inside the tank, releasing little + effervescent bubbles that fizzle and pop when they collide. + “Here we go!” announces Mister Three-Fingered, depositing the + tank of jellies in front of you. “Sailed through a big bloom + of breathing bells just last week, didn’t we! Managed to scoop + up a whole bunch of the little suckers. You ever use a + breathing bell before? No? Aw, it’s easy! Ya just pull one on + over your head like a hood, and it’ll breathe for ya while + you’re below the waves!”

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    NOTE: We just covered a lot of narrative ground. Feel free + to react to anything that happened between arriving at the + docks, meeting Gerald and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding + the Diamond Howler, and sailing to the site of the wreck.

    +

    www

    + ]]> +     +     25 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) @@ -818,6 +568,256 @@ ]]> + + 23 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 23 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52 +-0600 + Sat, 22 Oct 2022 09:36:52 -0600 + + 00023 +
    +

    Why no, we don’t mind much about competition, certainly + nothing wrong. Can’t imagine someone to put all of their eggs + in one basket, especially when whatever it is they desire is + so valuable.

    +

    That said, our benefactor must be pretty eager to get these + crystals if he’s willing to send out team after team. I mean, + we’re team 43, that’s a lot of people to pay and a lot of + eagerness to find these crystals. Why is that? What benefit + are these shiny rocks to them? What even is their purpose in + retrieving them?

    +
    +

    “Oh, no no no, child,” Blavin titters as he takes a sip of + his ever-present martini. “You must understand, the Benefactor + is a singularly dedicated collector, and has been for ages! + There are—and have been!—many other retrieval teams, yes. But + not all of them have been for the crystals. And some of them + were formed, active, and disbanded long before you or I + arrived on the scene.” He winks at you conspiratorially.

    +
    +

    I would postulate, based upon the magical wards we had to + bypass, the cadre of gaurds that needed to be dispatched, and + the gigantic moth monster that rested beneath it, that these + crystals aren’t meant to go anywhere.

    +

    Now I’m not trying to point fingers here, morality is many + shades of gray, and it isn’t really my job to suss out what + you’re doing. But I’m a curious sysorceor, and when I see a + chance to learn I seize upon the moment. There’s something + here you’re not telling us, and I for one and keen to know + it.

    +
    +

    “I wouldn’t worry your wizened old brow about it,” Blavin + chuckles, sloshing his drink. “The Benefactor’s concern is + precisely the same as yours! These items are of enormous + cultural and historical significance, to say nothing of their + well of concentrated arcane energies. They’re dangerous just + sitting out there in the world. Who knows who might come + across one and use it for nefarious purposes.”

    +

    Yam’L’s eye widens and it seems to shudder at the mere + suggestion of evil.

    +

    “Did you say this one was in the hands of a giant moth?” + Blavin shudders with revulsion. “My word, man! Do you really + think such an overgrown insect is an appropriate guardian for + a beloved and dangerous cultural icon such as the Ginnarak + Crystal? Surely not!”

    +

    “No,” he sits back with a satisfied smile, “I think we must + all agree that they are safer in the public collection of a + competent and benevolent curator. Then everybody can enjoy + them safely!”

    +
    +

    META: I’m gonna preface the sword speech with this to make + it quicker to write

    +

    Y’aml
    + I like what you’re putting down here, this guy is DEFINITELY + evil. Nobody asks loads of people to steal things for them + without being evil. I say we stab him, nice and good, right in + the gut. Maybe 6 or 7 times. I’m positive nobody will mind. + Evil people steal things, we saw that inky creature stealing + things from that vault, definitely evil. (singsong) Evil evil + evil, stab stab stab, make the evil go away with every little + stab~

    +

    Corraidhin to Y’aml
    + Dear sysadmins, once again, inky is not evil. They were + borrowing something that had been cast on the ground, + abandoned. Giving a tea set a good home is far from evil. But + you might be onto something about this Blavin fellow, but we + can’t just stab someone in a busy pub! Besides you’re a sword, + and stabbing someone in a pub is the job of a dagger. So + unless you can transform into the Dagger of Y’aml I think + we’re out of luck here.

    +
    +

    Yam’L gets a curious look in its eye at the suggestion. + “CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!” it cries directly into your mind. It + squeezes its eye shut and trembles with intense concentration. + With great effort, the sword shrinks itself down to the size + of a dagger, shunting its extra mass off into yamlspace.

    +

    “There!” it says breathlessly, opening its eye wearily. + “Now, Hardy Bear. You promised..” it continues, its eye + glinting with growing ferocity. “Let’s. STAB. THE HOBBIT!”

    +
    +

    While the wizard pressed Blavin about the crystal’s + secrets, Inky let their attention wander slightly around the + table.

    +

    They had agreed that Master Corraidhín and Jarrod, being + most wise and well-spoken, would question Blavin about the + crystal before they set off on their next mission. The party + had also befriended the duck unofficially dubbed their + marketing manager after the fluffy little creature had trailed + Inky all the way back to the Milk Market. Said creature now + occupied a small office to one side of the building complete + with a fountain, feathered up pillow and all the rummy worms + it can eat. Inky had tried getting the duck to communicate + with words by making them little croutons etched with letters, + but the only ones they would gobble up were Q-U-A-C-K.

    +
    +

    Your marketing manager moves into its office at the Milk + Market and seems to really be enjoying itself. It joins you at + Blavin’s table at Lucy’s Basement, cleaning its feathers and + chortling merrily to itself.

    +

    You and your tablemates take turns feeding it croutons and + bits of soft pretzel, and it seems very happy and content with + that.

    +
    +

    A familiar prickle, but passed quickly — Inky had gotten + used to the glares directed at them by the sysorceor’s + gleaming sword and resisted returning the stare with an + eyeroll. Watching Stabby eyeing up their case manager over + Master Corraidhín’s shoulder reminded Inky of a conversation + they had overheard a few evenings ago between two pale coffin + sleepers about a new product from the hemogoblins that was + said to quench the thirst for longer than the leading brand. + They might be able to find some at the town of Plasma, which + sits by the Hartlands on the way to the shipwreck. It seems + the milky blood pudding could do with some improvement.

    +
    +

    You note on Blavin’s map that the Hemogoblin region is + indeed on the way to the shipwreck. At least, it’s not that + far out of the way. You reckon their synthetic blood product + would indeed be a much better substitute for the real thing + than the milk you’ve been feeding the thirsty sword thus + far.

    +

    Or, at the very least, you’ll get a new variant of the + blood pudding recipe you’ve been working on!

    +
    +

    Maybe someone else’s mood will be improved in the meantime? + Before setting out for their meeting with Blavin, Inky slipped + into the kitchens downstairs and left the empanada chef a + trick-and-treat. A plate of honeyed breadfruit and ghost + pepper tapas sat on an icebox atop a new pair of Blueberry + oven mittens with a pattern of tiny smiling green turtles. + Tucked inside one mitten was a slip of paper (regrettably + inedible) that simply read “BACK SOON :)”. A tapa recipe, + which included a note on adapting the toppings for pan frying, + was printed on the reverse in neat blocky letters and + sandalwood ink.

    +
    +

    Enrique wakes in the middle of the night to start baking + the next day’s breads and empanadas. He frowns thoughtfully + when he sees yet another mysterious gift from across the room. + Again? What little elf must have taken up residence in his + shop? But his face cracks into a smile when he sees the + presentation and the oven mitts. And the smile becomes a + bonafide grin when he tastes the fare and finds the + recipe.

    +

    He taps his chin thoughtfully with one green claw as he + skims the note and looks through his pantry. He chops some + veggies and starts pan frying them.

    +

    Later, when the oven dings, he smiles to himself as he + pulls on the new turtle pattern oven mitts and opens it.

    +

    > A) MORE QUESTIONING, OR B) TIME FOR SHIPWRECK?

    +

    www

    + ]]> +     +     + + 26 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 26 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 +-0600 + Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600 + + 00026 +
    +

    Inky slowly approaches Master Corraidhín and taps lightly + on the sleeve of his robes to get his attention. Between + Inky’s tugging and Jarrod’s strong, steady hand, they manage + to hoist the wizard to his feet.

    +

    With a brief glance at the hobbit on the floor then a nod + to Jarrod, Inky leaves the nightclub with the wizard. The + duck, having emptied the plate of corn chips in record time, + follows them shortly after.

    +

    The trek back to the Milk Market is mostly silent aside + from the occasional mutter and stumbling curse, the mage + seemingly having fallen asleep as soon as he landed on the cot + in the loft. Inky retreats downstairs after leaving a jug of + water, a mug and a small packet of kuding leaves beside the + bed.

    +

    Exiting through the back door into the night, Inky finds a + dark corner in a dusty abandoned house, and cries.

    +
    +

    ~

    +
    +

    ” … and then the Orc Maiden said: ‘That’s not my + club!’”

    +

    The room roars with laughter, and Jarrod moves to the bar + and puts a bag of coin down. “Serve drinks until this runs + out!” Leaning over the bar to the bartender, Jarrod adds in a + whisper: “I owe a favour to Lucy’s Basement for the trouble. + Call it in when needed.”

    +

    Jarrod saunters over to Blavin, on the floor in pain. From + his pack, Jarrod retrieves a med kit and begins to bandage the + wound.

    +

    As Blavin opens his mouth, likely intending to raise all + kinds of hell, Jarrod pulls tight on the bandage he is + currently applying, drawing a curse from the hobbit. “Shut it! + Let’s be clear. You’ve hired us for a dangerous set of jobs, + with the understanding that we’re dangerous people. There may + be ‘accidents’ on occasion. You’ve learned something today, + and what’s more, you lived to absorb your new wisdom.”

    +

    Jarrod grins as he finishes with the bandage. “We will + finish what we have started. We’re probably the team with the + best chances, I’m sure you’ll agree. Are you going to back the + winning play here? Either way, your decision won’t change our + plans. I’m sure you know how to take the win.”

    +

    Jarrod pats the hobbit’s good shoulder in a friendly, but + dismissive, way, then turns and saunters out the door, trading + small quips with his new (and now very drunk) tavern + friends.

    +
    +

    You are at a small port town on the northern tip of + Agendell, just past the Rana’For Valley. The sun is bright and + the wind blowing in from the Sugrin Sea to the east is cool + and salty. The floating island-city of Vay’Neddas, bridging + Agendell and Primora, can be seen very faintly in the distance + hanging in the northern sky.

    +

    Your faithful multibeast is carrying all of your supplies + and gear, which were generously provided to you by the + indefatigable Blavin Blandfoot. His arm in a sling, he kept up + a constant nervous chatter as he saw you off on your journey + to recover the second Ginnarak Crystal.

    +

    From here, you can easily provision a boat to take you out + to the site of the shipwreck just off the coast.

    +

    Or, optionally, you are very close to the Hartlands. It + would be quite easy to make a quick visit to hemogoblins and + pick up some synthetic blood for your experiments with the + Sword of Yam’L.

    +

    The sword, incidentally, after finally tasting the blood of + “evil”, has remained sated and entirely inert and unresponsive + this whole time.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO:

    +
      +
    1. TO THE SHIPWRECK
      2. +
    2. BLOODQUEST
      3. +
    +

    www

    + ]]> +     +     22 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) diff --git a/www/spoilers.html b/www/spoilers.html index 8e67809..61af789 100644 --- a/www/spoilers.html +++ b/www/spoilers.html @@ -207,6 +207,7 @@ +

    Stats

    +

    Total length: 23421 words / 100 minute read.

    +

    There have been 97 messages posted over 107 days since the first post +on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .90 .

    About

    -

    Total length: 23381 words / 99 minutes

    This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over email.

    https://t.co/gA6hV6VKqm

  • Cadence: I’ll move the story along roughly once a week. Hopefully that gives everybody time to post something and participate.

    • -

  • Inclusion over realism: If you disappear for a while and then -come back, your character will immediately reappear as though they’ve -been there the whole time. Come and go as you please. Open door -policy!

    • +

  • Open Table / Inclusion over realism: If you disappear for a while +and then come back, your character will immediately reappear as though +they’ve been there the whole time. Come and go as you please. Open door +policy! Drop in and drop out as you please.

  • Linearity: Respond only to the most recent email in the thread. (We might play around with time later, but for now, let’s keep it simple.)

    • @@ -3198,6 +3202,8 @@ Discette = HD Diskette = better stay away from magnets!! building, lynx
  • MidJourney omen: priestly blood, demon
    • +
  • palindromes: taco cat, reward +drawer, tin unit, lap pal, evil olive
  • The Benefactor is Nullar
  • Blavin is a secret agent, working for the Golden Iris, a secret society that wants to ‘create