From c31e269067b3380f4e816e98d8533afb8b850f7b Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: "Christopher P. Brown" Date: Tue, 3 Jan 2023 16:08:54 -0700 Subject: [PATCH] end of chapter 3 --- basement.order | 17 +- src/chapter3.md | 2226 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ src/epistolary/00038.md | 431 -------- src/epistolary/00039.md | 212 ---- src/epistolary/00040.md | 216 ---- src/epistolary/00041.md | 93 -- src/epistolary/00042.md | 154 --- src/epistolary/00043.md | 110 -- src/epistolary/00044.md | 52 - src/epistolary/00045.md | 94 -- src/epistolary/00046.md | 146 --- src/epistolary/00047.md | 116 -- src/epistolary/00048.md | 246 ----- src/epistolary/00049.md | 156 --- src/epistolary/00050.md | 63 -- src/epistolary/00051.md | 117 -- src/epistolary/00052.md | 56 - src/epistolary/00053.md | 100 -- www/index.html | 82 +- www/rss.xml | 2296 --------------------------------------- www/spoilers.html | 82 +- 21 files changed, 2305 insertions(+), 4760 deletions(-) create mode 100644 src/chapter3.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00038.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00039.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00040.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00041.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00042.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00043.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00044.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00045.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00046.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00047.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00048.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00049.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00050.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00051.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00052.md delete mode 100644 src/epistolary/00053.md diff --git a/basement.order b/basement.order index 1a136aa..3ddaf4d 100644 --- a/basement.order +++ b/basement.order @@ -18,23 +18,8 @@ src/paths/tasseomancer.md src/paths/werehare.md src/chapter1.md src/chapter2.md +src/chapter3.md src/epistolary/index.md -src/epistolary/00038.md -src/epistolary/00039.md -src/epistolary/00040.md -src/epistolary/00041.md -src/epistolary/00042.md -src/epistolary/00043.md -src/epistolary/00044.md -src/epistolary/00045.md -src/epistolary/00046.md -src/epistolary/00047.md -src/epistolary/00048.md -src/epistolary/00049.md -src/epistolary/00050.md -src/epistolary/00051.md -src/epistolary/00052.md -src/epistolary/00053.md src/bestiary/index.md src/bestiary/aur.md src/bestiary/blahoblin.md diff --git a/src/chapter3.md b/src/chapter3.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..700419c --- /dev/null +++ b/src/chapter3.md @@ -0,0 +1,2226 @@ +--- +title: Chapter 3 +created: Tue, 03 Jan 2023 15:47:21 -0700 +updated: Tue, 03 Jan 2023 15:47:22 -0700 +public: yes +--- +## Chapter 3 + +Chapter 3 of BASEMENT QUEST. + +Jump to: +[38](#00038) +[39](#00039) +[40](#00040) +[41](#00041) +[42](#00042) +[43](#00043) +[44](#00044) +[45](#00045) +[46](#00046) +[47](#00047) +[48](#00048) +[49](#00049) +[50](#00050) +[51](#00051) +[52](#00052) +[53](#00053) + + + +#### 00038 {#00038} + +> The mission, party-wise, had been an abject failure. +> +> They had found the crystal, and Master Corraidhín had vanished. Inky +> wasn't sure which was worse --- the appalling lack of water-resistant +> fireworks surrounding the disappearance, or the bears' ceaseless +> waterworks in grief over their ghostly counterparts. Said bears plus a +> giant manta ray were eventually left with the remains of Inky's two +> snack stashes. (The third was back on the *Diamond Howler*.) The +> crystal was currently securely hidden away inside the Milk Market, +> which was for the best. Inky was not about to drag around an inedible +> melon that could potentially level entire cities, if the wizard's +> hints about its power were true. The crystal-retrieval missions were a +> cover anyway --- Inky had gotten what they were looking for. The +> equipment and provisions sponsored by the Benefactor were a handy +> bonus though. +> +> Inside the tent, Inky adds the finishing flourishes to a package and +> places it to one side, next to two others of a similar size and a thin +> envelope already piled inside a padded sack on the ground. The client +> should be pleased. It had taken longer, but the result had been worth +> the additional hassle. The envelope, on the other hand ... who knew +> what had become of the previous one, sent in an impulsive fit of +> post-dive haze once the ship had docked at the port town. Donning a +> grey fedora, a worn light brown jacket, a flask kettle and a wooden +> box with carrying straps, Inky the "Tiny" tea seller leisurely sets +> off for the post office, sack in hand. +> +> It was still a bit strange --- if less shocking than the first time it +> happened --- to speak in rabbiton with the postmistress at the +> counter, although Inky couldn't actually detect any significant +> differences from the common tongue besides occasionally being reminded +> they shouldn't be able to understand the sounds at all. Rabbiton or +> rabbitoff, hare mail couriers are among the fastest across Basmentaria +> and will ensure any parcels and letters arrive at their recipients in +> a timely manner. Due to their broad network and high delivery +> confidence, letters without return addresses were no issue; they can +> deliver with a valid recipient address, which they are able to verify +> from an extensive series of registries and course codes before taking +> the item. So it was that one such envelope containing yet another +> somewhat unusual recipe was promptly delivered to the Milk Market's +> ground floor on a blustery Boltday afternoon. +> +> Postage done, Inky wanders through one of the city's seedier +> districts, peddling cups of hot tea along the way. This had become a +> daily routine for a little over a month since the Sugrin Sea mission +> (longer and more sporadically before that whenever the imp was in the +> city), including a spontaneous fifteen-minute "Tiny Teatime" held in +> open areas such as small parks, or occasionally in a back alley +> between several crowded residences. The tea happening had initially +> been a whimsical response to *Teatime with Tanokuma* and still +> regularly attracted children when iced drinks were served during the +> summertime. +> +> Rows of slightly crooked houses sandwiched among acacia trees line a +> narrow, winding lane. Inky passes the elderly playing tabula +> surrounded by a small group of onlookers, people chewing on sweet +> lemongrass or peeling vegetables, hanging up laundry on colourful +> lines made of scrap rags, children laughing and chasing soapy bubbles +> with wands dripping from laundry water, and all sorts of activity that +> made houses into homes. Many of them were frank about not having any +> spare coins for extras like speciality teas brewed "just like them +> shops", but gladly accepted a steaming bamboo cup upon realising they +> needn't pay, if sometimes a little suspiciously at first. Instead of +> coin, they held a rich font of stories, local legends, folk remedies, +> cooking methods, insider tip-offs and rumours, which they were often +> eager to impart to an attentive audience. +> +> Some of the passer-by were always in a hurry, downing the tea as +> though it were a shot of hard liquor before retrieving a handful of +> loose coins from a pocket or sock. When Inky smiled and told them +> there was no charge, most would return a puzzled look or uncertain +> smile, or roll their eyes, and drop a copper coin into a slot on the +> lid of the box anyway. A few had promptly walked off wordlessly with +> snickering faces, as though they had gotten away with something +> clever. Regardless, it was one of the best ways to see and observe a +> bustling metropolis. No one took any particular notice of young +> urchins and vendors selling refreshments, flowers and various trinkets +> on the streets. +> +> Likewise no one witnessed a tea seller pause near one of the windows +> at the back of Enrique's Empanada Emporium late in the day. For a +> while they watch the chef within in action, clearly in his element, +> before reluctantly pulling away and retreating quietly up the stairs +> to the second floor. They should wash up and see if their marketing +> manager is in the mood for some takeout and Terrapin Ale this evening. + +\~ + +> Background: Alex isn't young, but in comparison to his whizzened uncle +> Corraidhin he's the depiction of youth. He has jet black hair and +> alert blue eyes, and a quiet serenity about him that gives one pause, +> as though he's constantly calculating. He gives into his passions +> quickly however, and becomes rather animated when his emotions break +> loose. He'll be the first to curse his uncle for his foolish +> endeavors, never quite understanding the sysorcerer's way. Early in +> life, after the death of his parents, Corraidhin took him under his +> wing and tried in vain to teach him the ways of magical systems +> administration. Much to Corraidhin, it only resulted in damaged +> systems, and a rift with his nephew. +> +> It took years to recover from that, but eventually the two grew close +> again, though distant nonetheless. That closeness reflects itself in +> the situation Alex finds himself in now, a mysterious alert from some +> overly contrived magical system, ruining his perfectly good winning +> streak. It's not that he was necessary bad at all of that stuff, it +> just, wasn't as much fun as gambling. And it certainly wasn't as +> exhillerating as writing malware. +> +> Breaking into a system, smashing it to bites and pieces, watching the +> carefully wrought design burn in amber and green, now THAT was magic. +> +> META: Alex is like Corraidhin in some aspects, he's younger, more +> brash, more given to whim and fancy. He's somewhat greedy and craven, +> attracted to riches far too easily. He's a passionate gambler, not due +> to his skill, but by virtue of his ability to distract and confuse, +> which gives him a delightful edge. Some would call it lucky, but he +> calls it subterfuge. He has some sysorcerer skills, nothing quite as +> flexible as Corraidhin, but he delightfully wreaks havoc with worms, +> scrapers, ransom & spyware. If he can't bypass something, he'll +> delightfully destroy it. If he can't break in, he'll distract someone +> or something so he can slip by. +> +> (Think rogue + illusion magic, where Corraidhin is straight Wizard) +> +> Introduction: Kev, just give it to me straight, the hell does this +> Deadman's trigger mean. You can't have a service like that flap, it's +> a boolean, you're either dead or your not. And don't try to lie to me, +> I'm not some project managing schmuck, you know full and well Uncle +> Corraidhin taught me. I know enough to tell when you're lying. +> +> (Kevin) Ah, well, umm. Yes I suppose that's true. You can't be dead +> and not. It's just not an option. But Zabbix doesn't lie! It's what +> monitors your Uncle's life force, the state of his infrastructure so +> to speak. Look check your own, there's nothing to indicate any issue +> with you, but your uncle's fluxuates consistently. None of his other +> state checks are failing though! So it could just be a problem with +> his Deadman's trigger code. +> +> Absolutely not. Corraidhin might be a flighty fool, but he's not +> someone who would deploy faulty code to production. There's no way in +> hell it would get past his linter, let alone all of the QA he does +> before it even gets that far. Look, what the hell did you drag him +> into, you know exactly what he gets up to, just point me in his +> direction so I can get this shit over with. +> +> (Kevin) Hmm, he didn't really want me to talk about it, but last I saw +> him, he was babbling on and on about some magical Json sword or +> something. I couldn't quite keep up with it. +> +> You were trying to get him to buy into KDL again weren't you? +> +> (Kevin) It's a good language I swear, and if your uncle had just.. +> (Alex cuts him off) +> +> Hush it. What did the sword look like, where was he headed? +> +> (Kevin) *sigh* it was large, with a ruby hilt, and a magical eye of +> some sort. I'm certain if you just ask around you'll find it. Just ask +> about the sysorcerer who mutters to his sword, that's how the poor +> bastard is remembered around here these days. +> +> With this information Alex departed the Sysorcerer's guild in search +> of his Uncle. As he asked around town, people shied away. Nasty +> business talking about that one, they'd tell him. A few mentioned +> something about an attack, and a dagger and bloodlust the likes of +> which they'd only heard from the bard at their local tavern. None of +> this sounded like the Uncle he remembered, but he followed the trail +> until it lead him to the Milk Maid. +> +> As Alex checked around for someone, anyone who seemed to be in the +> know, he spotted Inky, serving tea as she watched the ongoings at the +> Empanada shop near the Milk Maid. +> +> Excuse me, miss? You wouldn't have happened to seen my Uncle, he's an +> old whizened fellow. Constantly harrumphs and goes on and on endlessly +> about some magical script, or how much he hates the School of +> Powershell. I haven't been able to find him, and I've been looking all +> over the city for the better part of 3 days. Note even his best friend +> Kevin at the Sysorcer's guild knew where he was, and I'm just, I'm at +> a bit of a loss.. +> +> *sigh* I'm sorry to just unload on your like that. If you don't know +> him that's okay, I'd be happy to pay for a cup of tea for your time. + +\~ + +> *(Two days prior)* +> +> An office, barely illuminated by the glow of a moonstone lamp. +> +> An elf attired in red silk dress robes with a shimmering pattern of +> butterflies, a red floral picture hat and matching high heel boots +> lounged in the visitor's chair in front of a heavy wooden desk. The +> charms dangling from her wrist circlets tinkled as she reached for a +> teacup. A silver tray was placed to one side of the desk with a pot of +> maghrebi francus, two porcelain cups and a bowl of sugar cubes. The +> remaining surface was mostly covered by a map of Basmentaria, the +> moonstone lamp and a short stack of books. Behind the desk sat an imp +> in a midnight blue suit, a dart pen balanced on the edge of two +> fingers of one hand, while the other tapped a silent rhythm on the +> pineapple leather armrest. +> +> The lady in dress robes spoke first. "I made some inquiries. That +> sysorcerer acquaintance of yours seems to be stuck in some sort of +> spatial-temporal loop. The anomalies are usually salvageable given +> time and expert attention. His nephew is out looking for him now." She +> hands the imp a sheet with a drawing of a pensive but bright-eyed +> young man with dark hair, and several lines of notes below. "How are +> things at your end?" +> +> "The situation is tenable for the moment. One checked, another +> disengaged. Between the wizard and bard, Blackfoot will think twice +> before making any more untoward moves. One of the waiters at the club +> said the bard gave him a little dressing-down after the stabbing. He +> was practically shaking in his boots by the end of it." +> +> The elf laughed. "I read your earlier missive. Slipping a catalyst +> into a milk pudding to stir up a bloodthirsty sword? I guess you were +> pretty sure the thirst wouldn't get out of hand and kill the hobbit +> outright." +> +> "Not entirely, but the good wizard would fight it with considerable +> strength of will. That guild of his may be full of white hats too busy +> with their petty squabbling over semantics to see trouble looming +> until it smacked them in their faces, but they have their principles +> and will not give in easily when challenged." The imp grimaced. "An +> unpleasant matter but arguably a necessity. It was only a matter of +> time before the cursed sword would find itself a target. May as well +> put evil to good use." +> +> "You did what you had to do, Ink. And that sailor with the gold eye?" +> +> "Met with an unfortunate ... accident. Securing the crystal would have +> been sufficient, but the horkosgrampus weren't terribly impressed with +> him. The Benefactor should be relieved. Men of their ilk would sooner +> sell to the highest bidder." The pen twirled in their hand once, +> twice, before pausing with the nib pointing downward at a spot on the +> map. The imp continued, "All the more reason to move as soon as the +> young man finds his uncle. Kelsun Peak, most likely." +> +> "Right. I'll let the others know if anything happens." She rose to her +> heels in a whisper of brocade silks. "Do you want an antidote for ... +> ?" She gestured with a slim, graceful hand framed in delicate strands +> of the gold bracelets towards her companion. +> +> The imp inclined their head slightly in grateful acknowledgement. "No +> need. The condition is relatively harmless and reversing the effects +> now might raise suspicion. The postmistress at the Hutcheon Lane +> branch of Leplus Post was very tickled by it." +> +> "I see. So that's how it is." she replied with undisguised mirth. The +> imp ignored her smirk. "Please see to it the preparations are carried +> out. The fate of your beloved operetta house may well depend upon it." +> +> "You would never!" The elven lady exclaimed in mock affront. "No, I +> wouldn't, even though it is the bane of all fine glassware. However, +> if the crystals came to less discerning hands ..." They shared a +> solemn look before the elf nodded and swept out of the room, leaving +> the cloying scent of violets in her path. +> +> \~ +> +> Inky gestures wordlessly for the young wizard to follow them upstairs +> to the second floor of the Milk Market, heading straight for the room +> at one end of a long hallway. +> +> As Inky enters, their small and fluffy marketing manager pops its head +> out of the wooden tub of water standing to one side of the room. "We +> have a visitor!" Inky cheerfully tells the duck. Their marketing +> manager looks back at them both and says, "QUACK!" +> +> Inky turns back to the young man with a smile. "Please have a seat. +> How may we address you? Tea? No charge for Master Corraidhín's nephew, +> of course." +> +> Once seated on some cushions thrown over a slightly ratty tartan rug +> and having poured out a steaming cup of mandarin pekoe for each of +> them, Inky begins, "So, about your uncle. The good news is, we know +> him. The bad news is, we knew him." They then proceed to recount the +> events of their latest mission at the site of a shipwreck out in the +> Sugrin Sea, and the elder sysorcerer's disappearance. + +Prelude: + +A fringe movement of lunatic paleornithologists and crackpots of various +other professions has slowly been gaining traction over the last few +decades. The movement was born when the enterprising Modern Fuchsia, at +the time a budding young scientist on a dig yearning to make a name for +himself, found the fossil of a modern feathered bird---probably some +kind of swallow---alongside a theropod, that variety of dinosaur widely +accepted to be the ancestor of modern birds. Faced with what he believed +to be irrefutable evidence of a modern descendant coexisting alongside +its own ancient ancestor, Fuchsia arrived at the only conclusion he was +capable of making: Birds Are Not Dinosaurs. And thus BAND came into +being. + +Ever since, Fuschia and his BANDits have spent considerable amounts of +time and energy attending conferences and publishing papers, pouting and +demanding to be taken seriously by the wider scientific community. A +community which, if it pays them any attention at all, merely mocks and +ridicules their crackpot theories. + +Modern Fuschia is of course wrong. But neither he nor his BANDits know +how dangerously close he came to the actual truth. + +For much, much deeper in the shadowy fringes of paleornithology, there +is a clandestine operation called BATT. And only BATT knows the actual +explanation for how a modern descendant might coexist alongside its own +ancestor. Birds Are Time Travelers. + +In the far future when birds are the dominant intelligent life on +Basmentaria, they do indeed invent time travel. The end result was +catastrophic and is the real reason that the dinosaurs went extinct. + +It is a common misconception that barn swallows are the most common and +widespread species of swallow. That distinction in fact belongs to the +*time swallow*. Although---if you're lucky---you'll never actually see +one. Since the Incident, the secret agents of BATT have vowed never +again to interfere with or try to alter the time stream. Nor to allow +anyone else to. The time swallows are special bred, special trained, +appearing wherever and whenever an anomaly appears to remove it and +restore the proper timeline. The tiny birds quite literally swallow, +consume, and destroy anything that meddles with time. + +At their headquarters, in the present day, BATT Director Purple Martin +is delivering a report to his superior. Martin has a throaty and rich +voice of which he is self-conscious in the presence of his superior's +persistent silence. + +"We have successfully extracted the sysorcerer and have repaired the +anomaly. The subject is currently under the care of Felixe and is +expected to make a full recovery. In his possession were a couple of +interesting artifacts. One Class C sentient object, a sword. And a piece +of exotica of unknown origin. Our researchers so far suspect that it is +a sort of reliquary containing both elemental and divine arcana. The +xot's physical manifestation---a crystalline ore---thus far prevents us +from determining the precise identity of the arcana." + +Director Purple Martin is delivering this report to a lanky, thin man +folded into an armchair. He wears thin, wire spectacles with round +lenses, and dangles a walking stick over the arm of the chair as he +sits. He interrupts Martin with a rare utterance. "The reliquary. I +shall like to see it." + +Now then: + +Retrieval Team 43 welcomes Alex into their ranks even as they mourn the +loss of Corraidhín the Wizened. + +It starts off as a somber affair at Lucy's as you all sit around your +regular table, ensconced and wedged into a corner surrounded on two +sides by the red velvet curtains that line the walls. + +But then the hobbit joins you. + +Blavin Blandfoot orders a round of drinks in tribute to Corraidhín. And +then another round of drinks to welcome his nephew Alex. "A family +affair, is it not!" And then another round of drinks because he is +thirsty. + +The hobbit is in high spirits, brimming with flair and good cheer. His +arm is fully healed from the attack over a month ago at this very table. +His fond memories and frequent toasts to the sysorcerer make no +reference to the incident. + +"The Benefactor is immensely pleased with your performance so far!" He +punches a new hole in your Frequent Retrieval cards. "You are one step +closer to winning a FABULOUS PRIZE! I don't mind telling you I'm a +little jealous. Assuming you go the distance, of course. I mean who +doesn't love hot dogs and hot tubs!" He winks conspiratorially at you. +"To say nothing of actually getting to meet the Benefactor! Just +imagine!" + +After a few more drinks he eventually clears a space on the table and +rolls out a map of Basmentaria. "We once again have two reports of a +crystal spotting!" He jabs a finger at the mountain range in northern +Primora. "The first, as you know, has been reported by the zephynos high +atop Kelsun Peak." + +"The second," his voice quivers with excitement. He looks up at you +wide-eyed and gestures away from the map into open space. "Is on the +moon!" + +Seated a couple tables away from you is the same trio who were present +the last time you all met here: a dusty groll, a matted gnu, and a +curious Ornithologer. The observant among you, if you happened to look, +would notice that the Ornithologer wears a pinkish purplish red armband +with the word BAND on it. They listen to your proceedings with great +interest while trying really hard to look like they're not listening. +After Blavin's final proclamation, the trio finishes their drinks, +stands, and starts to leave the dining room. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +- Do you give the second crystal to Blavin? +- Do you choose to go to Kelsun Peak, or to the moon? +- Who is the Lady in Red and what does she want? +- Will Corraidhín recover in the care of Felixe? +- Who does the Director of BATT report to and what do they want with + the 1st Crystal? +- What's the deal with the Ornithologer's Trio? +- Who left you the note signed with an iris and apple? + +Find out next time on BASEMENT QUEST + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00097.html) + +#### 00039 {#00039} + +> Alex silently observes the party and this foolish hobbit, before him +> three untouched drinks have accumulated. He's a little less +> enthusiatic about taking drink from strangers, too much risk in that. +> As Blavin describes this crystal, whatever it may be, he catches a +> glimpse of the pinkish purplish armband on the party across from them. +> They don't look out of place given the patrons at the tavern, but he's +> certain they were listening in on the animated conversation of the +> hobbit. It could be nothing, or it coule be connected to Corraidhin, +> best to put a bug on them Alex thinks. +> +> Silently beneath the table and out of site Alex prepares a bug and +> sets it off to follow the person with the armband. Once the bug +> catches up to the part it's programmed to perform a tcpdump and +> capture information streaming around it, and then report back to Alex +> once full. By no means a perfect method of spying, but it's low energy +> and can be maintained from great distances without taxing Alex's +> energy. +> +> As Blavin comes back to the group from his grandoise space commentary +> Alex begins to question him. +> +> Enough of your theatrics hobbit. Tell me about the mark, you've +> obviously tipped off the entire tavern as to the whereabouts of +> whatever it is you're looking for, so give us an edge, something those +> evesdroppers a table over don't have. And cut this tripe about your +> benefactor, who is he, and what does he want with this magical +> baubbles. +> +> As Alex finishes his questions he sits quietly for a moment staring +> down Blavin. +> +> During this outburts, as all eyes turn to Blavin for his response, +> Alex casts yet another bug. This one sneaks onto the personage of +> Blavin himself. Programmed the same way. +> +> We'll get information from someone, subtle, or not if needed. + +\~ + +> Inky watches with faint amusement as a magical device, likely a probe, +> found its way onto their mission handler. +> +> Inky might have missed the slight movement under the table if they +> weren't waiting for it, having received word of the younger wizard's +> penchant for pre-emptive offence magic. As it were, the offices and +> surrounding premises were routinely swept for similar devices, a more +> recent example of which had been placed in plain sight by an +> overzealous tabloid writer hoping to pick up an exclusive reveal. The +> quality of the contraption, which had immediately fallen apart when +> detached from its gum adhesive on the back of a glass vase, had been +> almost insulting. +> +> It seems Blackfoot hadn't learned his lesson after all, and if Alex +> was keen to give him a reminder, Inky had no objection. As Blavin +> takes another swig from his sixth drink of the evening, the waitress +> smiling at him with a wink as she set down their glasses before +> skating away to take another order (Inky made sure tip her liberally +> for the attentive service), Inky let their line of sight flicker to a +> fuchsia-coloured band on a departing customer's arm. +> +> Inky smiles internally at the sight --- they can almost hear Beaker's +> crow of dismay. The poor kingfisher had been under increased pressure +> of late from other scientific associations and prominent speakers to +> exclude BAND from presenting at one of the largest annual ornithology +> conferences of the year on accusations of spreading misinformation and +> junk science in addition to attempting to erase the history of native +> bird tribes. There had been a huge row, which ended with the BANDits +> storming off, yelling about "the proof being crystal clear" and that +> they will bring "ancient arcane evidence". The Alcedinian researcher +> had lamented the halcyon days when conferences were avenues for +> scientific exchange, not twittering soapboxes. Not that anyone who had +> ever tried to arrange any gathering of birds of a feather really +> thought things simply glided along smoothly before. However, the +> advent of dedicated carrier pigeon networks had made it easier to +> relay research to and from smaller communities, opening the pathways +> for their participation, including a few somewhat Controversial fringe +> groups like BAND. + +Alex attempts to shake down the hobbit, who titters merrily at his +demands. + +"You know nearly everything I do, dear! Your *mark* as you put it," +Blaven theatrically drops his voice as he looks around for +eavesdroppers, "would be the zephynos of Kelsun Peak should you choose +to go that route. + +"If you choose to go to the moon, you'll have a harder go of it," he +frowns. He flips the map over and draws four circles in a straight line. +They have the proportions of a grapefruit, an orange, a tangerine, and +an orange. He jabs a finger at the grapefruit. "This is us, here, +earth." He points at the two oranges and the tangerine. "And these are +our planet's moons." He points to them in order. "Selene, the Green +Lady. Moonmoon. And Lua, the Red Lady. Recently, as you well know, we +had a super eclipse in which these four bodies and the sun all lined up +in perfect alignment. The combined magnetic pull of the spheres allowed +a rare commingling of the ionic spheres, and our instruments were able +to detect the crystal somewhere out there in space. If I were to bet on +it, I would put my money on Lua." He points to the farthest moon, the +Red Lady, with its own tiny satellite, Moonmoon. He looks up at you and +explains, "She's far enough away that her ionosphere would never make +contact with ours except for in this particular, rare circumstance. +That's why the crystal has escaped our detection for so long." + +"As for the Benefactor!" He brightens up. "He's a magnificent fellow as +you well know! A renowned collector. His wishes are to preserve the +crystals and protect them (and us!) from their misuse or mishandling! He +has a hot tub!" he winks at you. "Speaking of crystals," he adds as an +afterthought, taking another sip of his drink, "why don't you hand that +crystal over to me and I'll deliver it to the Benefactor. That is what +he's paying you for after all!" + +```{=html} + +``` +The Ornithologer's Trio leaves Lucy's Basement quite oblivious to their +bug. The Ornithologer turns out to be the orator of their little group, +ranting about the conspiracy, the attempted cover up, about how Big +Science wants to convince you that birds are dinosaurs but they're just +pulling the wool over your eyes. The truth is right there in the fossil +record for crying out loud! All you have to do is look for yourself. +Nobody these days wants to *think* is the problem. They just get their +information from the authorities and take it as gospel, but they don't +see that the authorities have adopted a narrative that suits their own +ends. + +At which point the groll interjects and asks what is the end goal of Big +Science, and how exactly does convincing the proletariat that birds are +dinosaurs help achieve it? + +The BANDit scowls and answers, Look, you just don't get it, okay! + +The three split up and go their separate ways and disappear into the +night. + +You learn the following, one of which is true, one of which is false, +and one of which is meaningless. + +1. BAND plans to intercept the CRYSTAL of VOID and use it to petition + the Insatiable Wyrm for definitive proof that Birds Are Not + Dinosaurs. In this way they shall shame their fellow + paleornithologists and earn their rightful place at the table of Big + Science, which they have spent decades undermining. + +2. The Gnu Zealots intend to reverse engineer the power of the + crystals, create a newborn godling, and then release their findings, + thus laying the foundation of the world's first truly open source + religion + +3. The trio seeks the crystals not at all, but in fact search for + Sitopotnia, creator and progenitor of the entire amaizeon + race---including corbits, aurs, centaurs, and others---and the only + mortal in the history of Basmentaria to successfully take the mantle + of creation from the overgods. + +```{=html} + +``` +Meanwhile, Blaven slips out into the early, early morning carrying his +own bug. He whistles tunelessly to himself as he sails down the street +with a wide and veering but surprisingly steady gait. + +Once he gets a few blocks away, his gait narrows and his step becomes +more lively, a bit jaunty. He stands upright and ceases whistling. All +signs of drunkenness disappear as he tugs on his sleeves and straightens +his vest, and runs a hand through his hair. + +He meets a goblin catcher in the street going the other way, wearily +making his way home after a long night's work. He wears a tiny goblin in +a glass jar around his neck, as is the signifier of his trade. And he +carries over his shoulder a large cloth sack, the contents of which +writhe and kick. Looks like it was a productive night for our goblin +catcher! Blaven gives him a little bow and a salute, laughs, and pats +him on the back in passing, deftly transferring the bug. "Good night for +it then ey?" he calls cheerily. The goblin catcher smiles politely, +mumbles a nicety, and carries on. + +Later, hidden safely away from spying eyes and listening ears, Blaven +sits at his desk, putting the final flourishes on a missive. He sits +back and re-reads it to himself, lips moving silently. He nods and +smiles, satisfied, and reaches for a stamp to sign the letter. He +presses it into a dark red ink pad and then onto the parchment, leaving +the image of an apple and iris. He sands the paper, carefully folds it, +and places it in an envelope. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +Note: Feel free to back up and play out some more conversation at Lucy's +before Blavin leaves if you want to. + +Options on the table: + +- To the mountains! +- To the moon! +- Something else! + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00103.html) + +#### 00040 {#00040} + +> As Blavin finished his afterthought about handing over the crystal, a +> yelp was the only warning they heard before a young waiter was +> suddenly half-sprawled over the hobbit, a tray of ginger beers toppled +> from his hand and the mugs' contents splashed onto the hobbit's front, +> though fortunately some of it ended up in a large puddle on the ground +> rather than on Blavin's person. The waiter had tripped over a bag on +> the floor on his way to the table two over from theirs and was +> scrambling to his feet. +> +> "By Nullar's nuts, I--- OH SH------!! S-s-sorry, sir! Hold on, l-lemme +> get--- uh---" the waiter looked around frantically. The waitress who +> had brought their drinks rushed over with some clean dry towels, a few +> of which she handed to the other waiter, and they both proceeded to +> wipe and dab at Blavin's damp clothes amid the hapless waiter's +> babbled apologies. Under the cover of the towels, the waitress patted +> down the hobbit's vest and replaced the sheaf of papers she had +> covertly lifted from one of the vest pockets earlier with a beguiling +> smile and wink. Once the beer on the floor had been cleaned up (the +> despondent young waiter had offered to pay for Blavin's next two +> rounds of drinks) and the waiters had moved on to serve other +> customers, Inky spoke. +> +> "You don't mind that we prefer to deliver it to the Benefactor +> personally, of course," Inky piped cheerily, referring to the crystal. +> "The late wizard thought it was prudent to cover our bases since +> you're a new, untested case manager after all. Besides, a little +> delayed gratification never hurt anybody, did it?" Inky smiled and +> raised their drink. "Another toast in tribute to Master Corraidhín! +> May his courage and buoyant spirit guide us on our next mission!" +> +> \~ +> +> When Inky stepped out of the tavern and was a few paces away, someone +> clattered through the door and called out, "Hey! You forgot your +> takeout!" +> +> Inky turned in the direction of the voice. It was the waitress who had +> served their table earlier. She waved a brown paper bag in one hand. +> Inky gave her an embarrassed smile and said, "Thanks." As the bag +> changed hands, the waitress mouthed soundlessly, *We'll report any +> more.* She went back inside, and Inky strolled off into the cool night +> air with the bag securely tucked away next to a tea pouch and a more +> pressing question: what blend would go best with fried tofurkey balls? +> +> \~ +> +> *(Meanwhile)* +> +> "The BANDit and his associates had gone to the tavern." His assistant +> looked up from the scrap of paper held under a claw. +> +> Beaker heaved a sigh and rubbed the tips of one wing against his +> forehead. Surely he had better things to do than play Eye Spy over a +> bunch of crackpots, such as peer reviewing the latest draft of a paper +> on the development of Cerylidian hunting techniques for an upcoming +> issue of *The Ichnition*. But Cio seemed to think something may come +> of it and unfortunately, she was usually right about troublemakers. +> +> "Tell them to continue tailing from a distance," he replied with a +> distracted wave, and his assistant left the room. +> +> Anyway, if he had the spare time, he could look at more interesting +> things, like the data he had collected surrounding the disappearance +> of the time anomaly that had popped up a few weeks ago. It had +> happened gradually, and he still wasn't entirely sure what had caused +> this particular incident, but the signals picked up by his instruments +> had later faded, just like other ones before it. Still, it was +> comparatively larger than previous ones, and seemed to have taken +> slightly longer to dissipate, which meant more data points. +> +> He stole another glance at his Dat repositories before sighing again, +> swivelling his chair and attention back to the manuscript before him. +> Work first ... then more work. + +\~ + +> The party dispersed after the discussion with Blavin. Nobody had +> wanted to relinquish the crystal to him, personally Alex felt that was +> prudent, though he still wasn't sure what the point of it all was. The +> foolish hobbit had blathered on and on about their "mark" tactfully +> ignoring the real questions. And then the bug, damn it, the bug that +> chittered on about absolutely nothing for hours. It didn't take Alex +> too long to figure out why, but he clung to the transmission until it +> died out hoping he'd be mistaken. +> +> So there he sat, in the attic of his once Uncle, staring bleakly into +> a cup of dark black coffee. The desk strewn with hastily scratched +> notes pulled from the bugs feeds. At least the one that had tracked +> that nosey group had proved somewhat helpful. Turns out this little +> group has less friends than a drunk who's run up their tab. +> +> Still, there's no point to share any of this information. It's too +> loose, not definitive enough to action with the group. +> +> Alex begins to pen a message to an fellow operative, in hopes that HQ +> will pick it up and assign someone to the task. +> +> <- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A +> -> OP 25120 * LOC ESPER +> +> CLEARANCE: SECRET +> PACKET ENCLOSED. YOUR EYES ONLY. +> +> REQUESTING DETAIL ON BLAVIN +> EMPLOY OF "THE BENEFACTOR" +> PERCEPTIVE, AWARE OF BUGS. +> DO NOT CONTACT, DO NOT DISRUPT +> EXTREME CAUTION IMPERATIVE. +> +> Once penned Alex encrypts it with GPG and sends it along. These +> channels have worked well for him in the past. If Blavin wants to play +> games, then games we shall have. +> +> "I hate to do this" Alex mumbles to himself. "Normally I'd trail him +> myself, but I don't think I have much say in the matter." As it stands +> the group is dead set on gathering more of these cyrstals, regardless +> of what the danger may be, and if Alex wants to find his Uncle, +> they're his best bet in doing so. Blavin doesn't even matter outside +> of that. But if he can help the group reach their end faster, or force +> the information out of Blavin, perhaps it can come sooner.. +> +> Alex lets out another sigh and glances wistfully around the gloomy +> attic room. It looked just like he remembered his Uncle's office +> looking like at the College of Sysorcerery when he had taught there. +> He always was so particular. Pushing his chair away and grabbing his +> coffee he wanders to the bookshelf where a large steamer chest sits +> beside it. The bookshelf is covered in manuscripts, "Practical Common +> Lisp", "The C Programming Language Vol 2", "RHEL 5 Systems +> Administration", each one arcane and well worn. And the amount of +> volumes, sometimes it's a wonder Corraidhin had time to do anything +> other than read. +> +> "Maybe if I had been a little more studious I'd know how to help +> you.." as he pulls "A Guide to Backups and All Things Necessary" off +> of the shelf a knife falls out of the book, and clatters onto the +> floor glaring malevolently up at Alex. + +Your gondola lift finally rises above the thick layer of clouds. The +sudden flash of clear blue sky is a revelation after ascending for +nearly 60 minutes through clouds so thick you couldn't see through the +foggy windows more than three feet. Above you towers rocky, imposing +Kelsun Peak. You can just see a tiny portion of the hotel roof through a +cleft in the rocks. Below you, a frozen turbulent ocean of clouds dotted +with twisting leaning spires and spiraling branching towers, all made +out of solid cloudstuff. Handiwork of the whimsical and industrious +zephynos. + +You spot two or three of them now, leaping and diving playfully through +the clouds like dolphins, spinning the clouds like yarn, and packing +them into solid constructs. Their current project resembles a garden of +outlandish, distorted tubas, french horns, and trombones. + +The small cloud dragons are about 6 - 8 feet long including their thick +tails. They have wide faces with round lidless eyes, and always seem to +be smiling. Their heads are topped with multiple pairs of filamented +stalks. They have six short, stubby arms with long thin fingers that +they use to knead and pull clouds into solid shapes. + +They build ceaselessly and mostly for the sake of building: they have no +apparent need for the structures themselves, living as they do floating +among the clouds. On occasion they have been entreated to build on +behalf of others. And the rare floating palace or city can still be +found drifting around Basmentaria as a result. The great city of +Vay'Neddas---tethered to the ground by great chains to Primora in the +north and Agendell in the south---is one of their greatest enduring +works. + +You approach the gondola station at the base of Kelsun Peak, and exit +your cable car as it slowly rounds the bullwheel. There are two +toques---presumably meant to be operating the lifts---standing off to +the side, ignoring their responsibilities, complaining loudly to nobody +and everybody about being forced to work long hours and being unfairly +compensated. The tips of their soft, conical heads slump forward, +calling to mind revolutionaries, or smurfs. + +It is wicked cold as you step out onto the platform and the wind nips +and bites at you relentlessly. + +At the edge of the platform, foggy white steps made of firm cloudstuff +climb up around the side of the mountain peak to the Palace +Runesocesius. Once the conspicuously extravagant residence of one of +Basmentaria's most powerful politicians, it has since---after its owner +fell from public favor and was routed out---been gutted and transformed +into a luxury hotel of equally conspicuous extravagance. It continues to +be one of the highest inhabitable places on Basmentaria. + +Two small toques at the base of the steps rush forward to meet you---the +floppy tips of their coneheads waggling side to side in their +exuberance---and introduce themselves as Confidence and Bread, your +guides. They have been instructed to guide you up to Runesocesius where +you will take posession of the Ginnarak Crystal. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00186.html) + +#### 00041 {#00041} + +> Alex grips the encoded message he received in reply to his last +> request firmly in his coat pocket. It was simple, curt, impactful. +> "Trust no one". Which begged the question, could even it be trusted? +> Was HQ compromised? His informants in danger? His allies and leads +> awash in the dark grey mist of uncertainity. Or had his message been +> intercepted, cracked, and a farsical response been sent in its place. +> Alex wasn't certain which, but the strange format and unusually speedy +> response had him on edge. +> +> This anxiety didn't boil up to the surface, not a line of worry or +> hint of the inner turbulence broke his cold blue eyes. Outwardly he +> was just as composed as ever, but between these uncertainties, the +> loss of his uncle, and now this utterly strange dagger he'd found +> amongst his uncle's belongings, he wasn't certain how long that +> composure would last. It didn't held that he felt this gnawing at the +> back of his mind, as though something was probing, attempting to +> communicate with him, somewhere between telepathy and utter magic, and +> not in any sense that Alex understood. +> +> And here he stood, a stranger amongst amidst his uncle's allies, and +> very little intention to change that situation at the moment. +> +> As the gondola touched down and the Toques rushed to greet them Alex +> jumped blithely off the ship and onto firm, but fluffy, ground. He +> cast a look around him at what appeared to be an ordinary port of +> entry, noting the crowds of people passing by. As the Toques arrived +> Alex spoke curtly to them, "Who sends you to greet us, and where do +> you wish to take us, and by what means do we travel?". Short, cut, +> information only. There's too much unnerving in an unknown situation +> like this. + +\~ + +> Inky greets the toques in turn politely, then turns to the second +> toque and says, "A little bit of bread and no cheese." + +"Cheese?" Bread cocks their head looks at Inky with a touch of +embarrassment. They start patting at their pockets, presumably looking +for a morsel of cheese to share with the travelers, but finding none. +They groan miserably. Confidence butts in apologetically, "There will be +plenty of food at the hotel if you want some! Some delicious fondue +perhaps? Kelsun Peak's famous liquid gold!" + +"Blavin Blandfoot arranged for us to meet you," Bread answers Alex. +Confidence nods enthusiastically in agreement. "But I suppose +technically the hotelier sent us." Bread points up at the sky, in the +general direction of the summit of Kelsun Peak. "We are to escort you to +Palace Runesocesius." They thumb over their shoulder in the general +direction of the stairs. "By way of the cloud steps. On foot." + +Confidence leans in close and lowers their voice. "A Ginnarak Crystal! I +can't hardly believe it! Thought they had all been lost to the ages. I +hear it's complete dumb random luck that this one turned up. Story is, +an aetherwael beached itself on some wide zephynos boulevard. Happens +sometimes. Poor things can't distinguish between clouds and cloudstuff. +I don't blame 'em! At a distance, you and me can't either! Anyway, this +aetherwael has got a harpoon stuck in its side. Dratted poachers. May +they all fall out of the sky and be dashed to a thousand pieces on the +rocks below. But it had a harpoon in its side and was trailing behind it +a float bag tethered to the harpoon. And you probably already guessed +what was inside of it!" By the time Confidence finishes their brief +story, they are trembling and nearly breathless with excitement. + +"Anyway," Bread interrupts their excited companion in an attempt to +restore decorum. Both of the toques have been gently herding you toward +the base of the stairs this whole time. "You know how the zephynos are. +You could give them all the coin in Basmentaria, or something priceless +like a Ginnarak Crystal, and they'd just as quickly misplace it out of +carelessness. If it's not a cloud they can sculpt into the shape of +seussomorph or the likeness of some fantasy creature, they just don't +give a fig. Luckily the hotelier caught wind of the aetherwael and found +out about the crystal before they managed to lose it, or bury it inside +of a sculpture or something silly! He has it safe and sound in the +library up at Runesocesius now." Bread climbs the first step, his foot +sinking barely a centimeter into wispy cloud before striking the solid +cloudstuff. "Come! The hotelier will be very excited to greet you!" + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00193.html) + +#### 00042 {#00042} + +> This seems a bit strange. Certainly Blavin has been pulling strings +> from behind the scenes the whole time, but why coordinate a special +> escort for us when there are other retrieval teams, and we've been +> less than amicable with the bloke the entire time.. Alex thinks to +> himself. +> +> *DM: I'd like to check for any signs of deceit in the toques demeanor +> or communcations with us* +> +> Confidence you said right? What would you do if I simply chose not to +> accompany you? I mean, there's a whole city around us, perhaps I'd +> prefer a drink before climbing a mountains worth of stairs. Or better +> yet, I could get back on the boat and ride to the top and same myself +> the hassle. + +Bread once again looks confused. Confidence looks surprised, caught off +guard. + +```{=html} + +``` +Confidence sputters, "Well, yes, of course. You've been traveling for +some time now, haven't you? I can assure you that the food and drink at +Runesocesius will be better than anything you can get here! But the +choice is entirely yours. Feel free to avail yourself of the local +offerings. We will wait here at the steps for you." + +Bread nods slowly, and seems to trailing behind the conversation just a +second or two. + +Their reactions seem genuine to you despite the circumstances. They seem +like a couple of low level employees of a luxury hotel earnestly trying +to follow the instructions they've been given. + +There are a couple of stalls and vendors set up around the gondola +station. Many of them serve mulled wine and hot chocolate. There is some +edible fare. Hot sandwiches and pitas. Nothing that an empanada from +Enrique's wouldn't put to shame. But they look hot and steamy, and of +great comfort to anybody who might be hungry and cold. There are a few +fire pits, next to which there are long benches with blankets, where you +might sit and warm up for a bit. + +The gondola lift ends here, and does not continue up to the mountain any +further. The cloud steps are the most common way to get up to the peak, +and to the Runesocesius. But you're pretty sure one or two of the stalls +here offers balloon rides up to the peak for thrill seekers and for +those with accessibility needs. + +> "I think you already know I'm interested in neither bread nor cheese, +> the second of which I certainly did not ask for yet you tried to offer +> in your hasty pretence." Inky smiles thinly at the toques. +> +> Taking out a small bag of gold coins and weighing it slowly on one +> hand to the sound of coins clinking inside the pouch, Inky continues, +> "Speak, answer our questions frankly and you will be rewarded. The +> hotelier up there need not know. Breathe a word of our little chat to +> another soul, however ..." Inky's gaze cut briefly to four snow ravens +> perched atop a spiral lamp post and back, "and you will learn the +> meaning of disappearing without a trace." + +Bread looks confused. You are starting to believe it is their default +expression. "So, you *don't* want no chee---" + +"Our only desire is to help!" Confidence hastily interrupts. He smiles +pleasingly. "We are your guides! Not just physically up the steps, but +in all things here on Kelsun Peak. You have but to ask, and if it is +within our power to give it, it will be yours! We are but humble ser---" + +And just then Confidence is also suddenly interrupted. A thundering boom +like a canon sounds from somewhere nearby, followed quickly by an +explosion somewhere up above. Snow ravens fly off in all directions in a +panic. The sound ripples through the mountaintop, rattling the ground on +which you stand. A bunch of small rocks and two large boulders shake +loose from the mountainside. Shoppers and travelers shout and duck for +cover as they are pelted by the scree. One of the large boulder bounces +clear over the station and plummets down the side of the mountain before +disappearing into the cloud ocean below. The second one falls straight +toward the platform. A vendor selling wreaths and candles dives out of +the way as his stall is crushed by the boulder. A bench is toppled over, +spilling its blankets into the fire pit, and catches fire, quickly +spreading to another nearby stall. + +Bread looks up at the sky, confused. You see a thin line of black smoke +starting to rise up into the sky from over the ridge where the +Runesocesius lies. Confidence shouts, and you see him pointing at the +sea, where a balloonship is rising up out of the cloud bank, sailing +quickly toward you and the summit of Kelsun Peak. + +It resembles a seafaring ship, but instead of masts and sails, it has +two large, colorful, patchwork balloons that provide it lift. A large +fan on a pivot at the rear of the ship provides thrust. As you watch, it +fires a second canon---that *is* what the sound was!---nearly straight +up, arcing up and over the peak at Palace Runesocesius. + +The crew of the ship bustle around on the deck of the ship, reloading +the canons, firing the balloons, shouting, giving and following orders. + +"Cyberplasms," groans Confidence, and Bread whimpers. Alex, that quiet, +dull, static roar that has been constantly tickling the back of your +head ever since you found that dagger seems to rise in pitch and in +tone. It conveys a sense of urgency, of warning. You can *almost* hear a +desperate voice behind the static fuzz cautioning you, "Evil..." + +The only corporeal element of the crew are their cybernetic +enhancements. A mechanical leg. A synthetic eye. A claw, a hook, a hand. +An arm canon. Almost all of them have more than one, some as many as 3 +or 5. The cybernetic pieces of each individual crew member are held +together by plasmic energy arcs, crackling blue and green. And +surrounding the bioware and the plasmic arcs of each crew member, like a +blanket or a cocoon, is the translucent, wavering, ghostly form of some +humanoid long-dead. + +The figure standing on the deck surveying the work of the rest of the +crew---presumably the captain---has a synthetic eye rotating freely, 360 +degrees in all directions, inside its skull-like head; a bulky arm +canon; and a thin robotic leg terminating in a thick boot. Plasmic +blasts arc through its core, sometimes disrupting and glitching its +ghostly body. + +The captain raises its arm canon and shouts to the crew. Its voice +carried on the breeze sounds like something otherworldly rising slowly +from the murky deep. "Fire the canon, boys! And fire up the balloons! +Drop the ballast! That crystal is *ours!*" + +It happens very quickly: the ship ascends to the summit and soon is +firing grappling hooks at it to pull themselves in and breach the walls +of the hotel. + +Bread looks at you, wide-eyed and trembling. They let loose a pitiful +wail and turn and start running up the steps. "Bread!" Confidence yells +after them. They cast a backward glance at you. "I've got to help Bread! +We've got to save the hotel!" And they give chase to their fellow toque, +bounding up the cloudstuff steps. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00203.html) + +#### 00043 {#00043} + +> Pirates?! Again?! Alex groans, unfortunately he's run into this crew +> of dastardly mostly cybernetic punks in the past. Nasty group back +> home, always kept the precinct busy. Not necessarily with the +> detective work, it was always a little obvious when they showed up. +> They have a flair for the dramatic. +> +> Alex shouts to Inky & Jarrod "Come on, we need to get in one of those +> balloons and fast!" he then darts off in the direction of the nearest +> abandoned balloon in the market place, not looking to see if his +> companions had followed him. +> +> *internally* I know these guys have pulled off smaller heists, they +> could just be attacking the hotel to plunder riches from its guests. +> They don't seem the likes of a retrieval team.. Then again, that +> Blavin fellow has multiple teams working for him, and he doesn't seem +> all too picky about how they get the job done, it wouldn't be +> surprising if he'd hired some brigands hoping they'd get the gems +> faster. +> +> Alex conjures up another bug, a stag beetle this time, and casts it +> away at the pirate ship. It'll probably take some time to catch up, +> but once it does we'll be able to keep an eye on the pirate's ship and +> general actions, at least within line of sight of the bug. +> +> As Alex reaches the balloon he grabs the ruby hilted dagger and cuts +> the mooring lines keeping it down, and jumps into the basket preparing +> for take off. + +You spot a balloon that has already been knocked half loose of its +mooring by the pirate attack. The basket is listing to the side and +tugging at the one remaining rope tying it down Its owner scurries +around in circles trying to secure it. + +The vertical panels of the balloon are all different colors, creating a +brilliant rainbow pattern. The large woven basket is large enough for +maybe three people. + +You leap inside, swinging the ruby hilted dagger at the remaining +mooring line. The balloon owner cries out in dismay. The basket shifts +beneath your feet as the balloon tugs it skyward. + +In the burner, a small sunspoke---a minor fire elemental---is merrily +burning away, producing a modest flame that is hot enough to lift the +balloon slowly above the market into the sky. There is a knob valve on +the side of the burner to allow more oxygen to flow in, thereby feeding +the sunspoke and encouraging it to burn more intensely and raise the +balloon higher and faster. The valve is currently only about one third +open. + +A pile of blankets in one corner of the basket---and that area of the +basket itself---is covered in blood. Somebody injured in the pirate +attack must have temporarily climbed into the basket looking for cover? +As you're about to look away, something large-ish (small for a human, +large for an animal) under the blankets shifts and moves. + +> Inky stares after Alex's sprinting figure before shrugging and +> stepping towards one of the stalls selling sandwiches bowled over by +> one of the large boulders. They place some loose change on the stall's +> wooden sign that had tipped over on the ground and pocket one of the +> sandwiches displayed inside an open chest oven. Next, they pick up +> several of the scented candles scattered on the ground by the crash, +> throwing some coins in the direction of the disoriented vendor before +> continuing at a leisurely pace up the steps to the hotel, taking in +> the balloonship and surrounding scenery. The members of their merry +> party arriving first can hold their own as well as the fort of a +> hotel. + +You do a little leisurely shopping as the vendors and other shoppers put +out fires and tend to the injured. With a couple scented candles and a +sandwich safely in your pocket, you start to climb the cloud steps, +enjoying the scenery as you go. Bread and Confidence have quite a bit of +a head start on you, and are nowhere to be seen. As the stairway winds +around the mountainside, the market and its bustle recede from view, and +soon you are quite isolated and alone. + +The majesty of creation is humbling here: the endless, roiling ocean of +cloud; the towering mountain of rock. It's as though this was the +creator's playground when they were still trying to figure out scale. +Before they quite got it right for human-sized creatures. + +About halfway up your climb, it starts raining sheets of paper. You +snatch one and read it. Some heroic fantasy about slaying demons and +facing great peril. You grab another. A bodice-ripping romance. Another. +A gourmand's food tour of Basmentaria, eating their way from coast to +coast. A murder mystery whodunnit. An aetherwael handler's guide to +interplanetary travel. How to grow your own fortified pumpkins. On the +Care and Maintenance of Fortles. The Rise and Fall and Rise of Palace +Runesocesius. Within a minute, you have fists full of an entire +library's worth of snippets and passages. + +\~ + +It looks as though Alex will approach the hotel by balloon from the +non-pirate side. And Inky's approach by stair will deposit them at the +hotel entrance, roughly pirate-adjacent. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00217.html) + +#### 00044 {#00044} + +> As Alex spots the sunspoke valve he grabs it and cranks it up to the +> 2/3 mark. "Sorry little friend, we're going to need a little bit more +> juice". The baloon lurches upwards as air rushes in feeding the +> sunspoke, causing it to burn more intensely. After setting the +> sunspoke ablaze and shouting back to the balloon's owner Alex takes +> account of his surroundings. It's during this time he spots the +> bloodied, moving blankets. They seem to writhe, as though something +> beneath them is injured. +> +> Gripping the dagger firmly in one hand Alex grabs the blankets from +> the corner of the balloon basket revealing whatever lay beneath. + +The sunspoke stretches its little arms and wriggles its little fingers. +It sighs happily, luxuriating in the extra fuel. It burns twice as +bright, shooting a hot jet of bright yellow flame up into the parachute. +The sunspoke starts to glow a molten red, and you start to rise faster. + +As you rise up over the peak, you can finally spot the Runesocesius. The +grand hotel is draped over the top of the mountain, clinging to it like +a dragon resting on its hoard. + +The "cyberplasms" as Confidence called them have docked to the side of a +tower on the other side of the peak from you. They have shot a large +hole in the side of the tower, and you can see them now starting to +zipline into the building. A thick plume of black smoke billows out of +the side of the tower, carrying pages and pages of loose paper into the +air with it. They rain down like snow. The tower must house an extensive +library. + +You cautiously pull back a corner of the bloody blankets, jeweled dagger +raised and ready to strike. You reveal a small bloody furry blob. You +see two big round eyes, a short-snouted face, and enormous pointed ears. +It quickly looks away from you, chirps pathetically, and trembles as it +cowers in place. You have found a frightened hemogoblin stowaway! + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00219.html) + +#### 00045 {#00045} + +> As the blankets draw back from the bloody mass, a cute little +> hemogoblin appears. "Aww little fellas just scared." Alex lowers the +> dagger, but otherwise ignores the hemogoblin. Best to leave it be for +> now, there's more important things. +> +> As the balloon gets within range of the ship Alex begins to scan the +> deck for Cyberplasms. At the same time he checks his bug to track the +> location of the cyberplasms more acutely. It looks like there may be +> an opporunity to jump from the balloon to the ship. After that cutting +> the zip lines would give me the opporunity to steal the ship, leaving +> the cyberplasms trapped at the top of the hotel. + +Just a few Cyberplasms remain on the deck of the airship. The vast +majority of them have zipped into the hotel tower. + +You check your bug's feed. It has gone almost entirely unnoticed in the +fracas, and you are able to piece together a clear picture of the inside +of the tower. It is indeed a grand library, its galleries spanning each +floor of the tower. One of the largest collections in all of +Basmentaria. + +The Cyberplasms have breached the tower near its base and are pouring +into the Great Hall. You tune in just in time to see a rail-thin, bald +and mustachioed man standing defensively in front of a display case. +"No! You can't!" he exclaims as a disembodied sickle approaches him in a +cloud of electricity and ectoplasm. + +Behind the glass in the display case is a bluish hunk of rock the size +of a melon, with gently pulsing gold veins. + +> Inky puts away the papers they caught in passing or picked up along +> the path up to read later, including a number that from a cursory +> glance appear to be from a culinary collection and a few from some +> moth-eaten but finely illustrated botanical tome, among others. +> +> Eventually arriving at the hotel entrance, Inky enters and manages to +> catch a frantic-looking attendant near the reception to ask the +> whereabouts of the hotelier, indicating they had a business +> appointment with said manager. + +You walk in through the hotel's main entrance. The grandeur would take +your breath away were it not for the shouting and the smoke and the +explosions coming from down the hall to your right. + +You wave down a passing hotel clerk and inquire after the hotelier. They +are hauling a large bucket of hot water, and carrying an oversized +bundle of clean towels under one arm. They pause for a moment to look at +you incredulously before running off in the opposite direction. + +A cry rings out nearby and a Cyberplasm flies through an open door down +the hallway. It lands in a heap of crackling energy, smears of ectoplasm +streaking the floor as though it were bleeding heavily. It seems to be +barely held together by the energy stored in its cybernetic leg and a +metal skull plate. + +It scoots backwards on its hands and its butt, trying to stand up. Two +toques leap out of the door after it. You recognize Bread and Confidence +right away. + +Bread has obviously been to the kitchens. They are wearing tin baking +sheets and an oversized pot on their heard as makeshift armor, and have +a couple of dangerous looking kitchen knives hanging from their belt. At +the moment they are swinging a large meat tenderizer over their head as +though it were a war hammer. + +Confidence, meanwhile, has been to the gardener's shed. They are wearing +a heavy leather apron and thick leather gloves, and have a trowel in +each hand, and a large hoe or rake strapped to their back. + +Bread lowers their hammer on Cyberplasms head, denting the skull plate. +And Confidence darts in and stabs with both hands at the leg. As soon as +the prosthetics go offline and the plasmic arcs cease firing, there is +nothing left holding the ectoplasm together and the ghost kind of +dissipates into the air with a soft wail. + +They look up and notice you at the same time, relaxing their offensive +stances. "Oh!" cries Bread. "It's you!" + +"You don't happen," asks Confidence, "to need a guide, do you?" + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00227.html) + +#### 00046 {#00046} + +> Ah so I suppose those Toques were being honest then, there was a +> Ginnarak crystal, and I guess they were going to give it to us.. oh +> well, nothing good in life comes easy. +> +> Alex cranks the dial on the sunspoke, grabs the hemogoblin from the +> basket, and jumps out of the balloon and onto the deck of the ship. He +> rushes over to the nearest pile of bundled rope and barrels and stows +> his new hemo friend. "Just stay hidden little guy, let me take care of +> these pirates first." +> +> Alex grabs the dagger from his side as he makes his way towards the +> side of the ship, first thing first, best to cut the mooring lines and +> zip lines. The static clawing sensation appears at the back of Alex's +> mind, but he attempts to ignore it. There's too much that needs to be +> done too quickly, and he's all too aware of the danger he's put +> himself in. "What would Corraidhin do.." Alex thinks to himself, +> "perhaps a spell?". +> +> ``` lua +> function target:new(obj, tbl) +> obj = obj or {} +> setmetatable(obj, self) +> self.__index = self +> self.x = 0 +> self.y = 0 +> self.speed = 0 +> reutrn obj +> end +> +> function target:yeet() +> self.x = 100 +> self.y = 100 +> self.speed = 50 +> return self +> end +> ``` +> +> After preparing the spell Alex makes his way towards the guard rail +> ready to cut the mooring and zip lines, spell at the ready should an +> enemy appear. + +You crank the dial to 11. The sunspoke squeals in delight and burns like +a tiny star. You grab the hemogoblin, who chirrups and clings tightly to +you, and leap from the balloon onto the deck of the airship. + +You think you can hear---barely audible---the sunspoke singing a song of +homecoming as the hot air balloon continues to rise unpiloted up toward +the sun. + +You rush over to cover behind a barrel, and deposit your new hemogoblin +friend safely inside the center of a large coil of rope. It looks up at +you quizzically, but nods when you tell it to stay put. + +You invoke the powers of the moon and prepare a quick but (hopefully) +sufficient Spell of Yeeting. + +```{=html} + +``` +When you draw the dagger, the world develops a faint static background +noise which is easy enough to ignore at the moment given the state of +things. You dash forward and start sawing at the thick mooring lines. +The dagger's ruby hilt flashes in the sunlight as you work, and in your +mind's eye you see a bright red wine, and a drop of blood red ink +flowing from the nib of a fountain pen. + +You shake the images from your head just as you finish sawing through +the rope. A Cyberplasm who was shimmying back up the rope from the hotel +to the ship yelps as the line goes slack and swings back into the side +of the cliff. The pirate rebounds from the impact, bounces off the +mountainside a few times, and falls from view as it disappears through +the clouds below. + +The ship drifts lazily, rising slightly, and despite your best sneaking +around, the remaining Cyberplasms on board cannot help but notice that +the ship is no longer tethered. You successfully hide behind a barrel as +three cyber ghost pirates come rushing over to the ship railing and lean +over, looking below at where there are no longer any ropes attaching the +ship to the hotel. + +Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the hemogoblin toddling +across the deck toward the Cyberplasms, no doubt curious about what +they're looking at over the side of the ship. + +> "Indeed, Bread, it's me. You have not yet escaped your fate of +> untraceable disappearance just yet." Inky deadpans, then smiles. "We +> have much to discuss, but later. I do need a guide ... to your +> hotelier. Presumably I will find them by following the racket and +> trail of ruined decor, but maybe you know of a quicker route?" + +Bread smiles at the threat of being untraceably disappeared, mostly +confident that they are on the inside of a private little joke and that +they are presently in no actual danger from Inky. They grip their hammer +a little tighter nonetheless. + +Confidence slips their trowels into their apron. "Yes, this way!" + +They hurry down the hall. You know you're going the right way because +tattered, torn, charred books litter the ground in increasing numbers. +Bits of paper and ash fall like snow. + +Confidence guides you away from the entrance to the library's Great +Hall, and takes you instead to a smaller, more discreet staff entrance. +They open the door a crack, and as you look through you are just in time +to see the ship captain with their cybernetic leg, arm canon, and eye. +Now that the crew have cleared the way for them, they stroll across the +library over piles of fallen, damaged books. + +A thin bald man with a neatly trimmed mustache is on the other side of +the hall, his back turned to the pirate. He wears a fine suit and has +just finished unlocking a glass display case. He retrieves a +multifaceted blue and gold stone and hugs it to his chest with both +arms. He throws a panicked glance over his shoulder at the slowly +approaching pirate, and turns to run away. His retreat is halted by a +small explosion at his feet. He skids to a stop and looks back at the +pirate, who is lowering their arm canon. + +"The crystal," the captain demands in a voice part ghostly moan, part +mechanical drone. "Hand it over, hotelier." It steps closer. "Mother has +promised us new bodies if we deliver the quintessence. You won't be +permitted to stand in our way." + +One pirate near the breach tucks a couple volumes of manhwa under its +arm and climbs out onto the mooring line, returning to the ship with its +plunder. It howls as the line suddenly goes slack, flinging the pirate +and its comics into the mountainside, and then out into space. + +Sunlight pours into the library from outside as the shadow of the +airship shifts as it starts to drift, suddenly unmoored. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00231.html) + +#### 00047 {#00047} + +> Damn it! I should've left the little goblin in the balloon, this could +> get tricky.. +> +> Time slows for just the briefest of moments while Alex calculates his +> next move. Looking at the position of the pirates he can probably yeet +> the middlemost one away from the group into the left most pirate. Best +> case this sends both of them sailing over the edge of the ship, worst +> case it just slightly knocks them off balance. In either event this +> gives me enough time to dart from cover and quickly dispatch the right +> most pirate with Uncle's dagger. I've got to sever each connection +> point between the ecotplasm and the cybernetics, nothing quite as +> quick and easy as flesh and blood, but a quick slice to the left most +> armpit, and another to the right most leg right above the carotid +> artery should do it.. +> +> Jumping immediately to action Alex casts `yeet.middle_cyberplasm()` +> sending the middle pirate into the left most pirate away from the +> hemogoblin while he dashes forward to take the third right most pirate +> by surprise. As he reaches the right most pirate he makes two quick +> slices, first at the leg, followed by a quick upper cut to the left +> arm. + +```{=html} + +``` +You channel some of the ambient environmental charge into your prepared +incantation. It's comforting sometimes to peer behind the veil and see +the world through this lens. It's so simple. The separation of self and +other is an illusion: everything is just a table. The concept of time +itself is simplified: coroutines prevent everything from happening all +at once and create the illusion of concurrency. It's all really quite +elegant. + +Anyway so the hemogoblin sidles up next to the pirates at the railing. +It's not tall enough to see over the railing, and starts to kind of jump +up and down, trying to catch a glimpse. The pirates look down at it in +confusion just as the `yeet` happens, and they knock into each other. +The leftmost one almost manages to regain its balance but then trips +over the little blood gremlin and pitches over the railing. The middle +pirate yelps as the startled hemogoblin darts between its legs to get +out of the way. The pirate stumbles and then slips in a small puddle of +blood. Its feet shoot from beneath it and it too tips over the railing. + +```{=html} + +``` +The hemogoblin dashes right into the waiting arms of the rightmost +Cyberplasm. "Gotcha, you little ... ugh! What ..." The pirate is +starting to regret snatching up the little furball, which is defensively +gushing blood all over it, when you make your first slice into its left +armpit. Half its cybernetics go offline. One arm goes limp and it drops +the hemogoblin, which scurries around and hides behind you. The pirate +turns toward you, now full of regrets, and you stab into its right leg, +knocking its tech completely offline and dispersing the ghostly +energies. + +As far as you can tell, the ship is now free of Cyberplasms. + +The hemogoblin thrusts its tiny fists in the air and cheers. + +> Inky shakes out several large and very fine kerchiefs, handing two +> each to the guides and gestures for them to cover their noses and +> mouths with them while they perform the action themselves to +> demonstrate. +> +> Donning a pair of skydiving goggles snatched from one of the souvenir +> stalls at the gondola station while no one was looking (replacing it +> with its approximate weight in silver coins), Inky retrieves a black +> metal box that previously served as a portable camp stove from their +> knapsack and removes the lid. The inside of the box is filled with dry +> wood chips mixed with a pine green powder, and Inky throws in the +> wicks pulled from some of the scented candles that were pushed into a +> heater flask to melt fully during the walk up the hotel steps. +> Finally, Inky pours another vial of foul-smelling liquid over the +> contents, opens the door just wide enough to slide the metal box +> through to one side of the door a few paces away. +> +> A mildly sweet, cloying smoke emanates from the flameless heat inside +> the box, which begin to fill the library hall with a rapidly +> thickening cloud. It is also taking on an acrid and slightly sooty +> edge. Near the door, Inky fans more of the smoke in the direction of +> the cyberplasmic apparition with a thin bound manuscript laying on the +> floor. + +Bread, Confidence, and you all don protective gear. You push the camp +stove through the door like an Olympic curler. It glides across the +library floor a respectable distance considering the book debris and the +lack of sweepers. Much more quickly than one would think possible, the +hall is filled with a thick, sooty smoke. The Cyberplasm captain groans +with frustration as even the short distance between it and the hotelier +(and the crystal) becomes occluded in the smoke screen. The hotelier +wisely doesn't make a sound as he disappears from view. + +Bread nudges you, grins, and gives you a thumbs up. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00234.html) + +#### 00048 {#00048} + +> Alex snatches up his new hemo friend cheering huzzah as he does. We've +> got a pirate ship little guy! +> +> Rushing about the deck Alex quickly takes stock of what's left, plenty +> of ammo, general supplies, fuel, perfectly provisioned for a quick +> crystal kidnapping. Smart move pirates, but not smart enough. +> +> Alex heads to the helm and steadies the ship guiding it out and away +> from the library, can't have any of the remaining cyberplasms easily +> reboarding it now can we? Once the ship is out of range Alex checks +> his S.T.A.G drone's twtxt feed for updates. +> +> @ Cyberplasm approaching crystal +> @ approx library, top level +> @ Cyberplasm threatens violence +> @ Inky, bread, confidence enter subvertly +> @ Visual feed impaired due to unknown smog +> @ Angry tones, uncertain who +> +> Not particularly helpful, and it rules out my first thought. I could +> blindly fire the broadside canons into the library hoping to hit the +> cyberplasm, but I'd be just as likely to hit Inky, Bread, Confidence +> or any other innocent bystander. I've got to get a message to her. +> +> Alex quickly dispatches a command to the S.T.A.G +> +> @ Seek Inky +> @ Secured ship, inform A.I of intentions, will coordinate rescue via the stolen ship +> +> If all we've got is this, then we'd best be ready for a quick rescue. +> Alex busies himself preparing a new zipline and mooring lines. He then +> loads the boradside canons and the top deck swivel canons. It'll need +> to be quick, but if I'm ready I can swing the ship in close, deploy a +> zipline for Inky to zip down to the ship with, and defend the retreat +> with the swivels. If everyone retreats to the ship we can take a note +> from the pirates playbook and blast them to hell with the broadsides +> while we make our retreat. Or simply run I suppose, but I dislike the +> idea of leaving innocent people to deal with angry pirates + +The hemogoblin cheers you on as you take possession of the airship, +accidentally squirting a few jets of rust colored blood in its +excitement. Must still be quite young. They don't gain full control of +their blood sacs until well into adulthood. + +You check your S.T.A.G. drone's twtxt feeds. This A.I. seems especially +reliable, you note with satisfaction. Its updates are regular and +detailed. Even when there's not much to report. + +You load up the canons and take control of the helm. The hemogoblin +stands at attention at the broadside canons with a cracklesparkler, +ready to light the fuse at your command. You steer the ship a short +distance away from the hotel, hopefully out of reach of the cyberplasms. +But within range of your own canons and ziplines. + +> While Inky has the attention of both guides, they close the door again +> until it is slightly ajar, and make a series of hand gestures. First +> pointing at themselves, at their own forearm and fist held stiffly to +> mimic the shape of the captain's arm cannon, to indicate that Inky +> will handle the Cyberplasm. Then Inky points the two fingers of a hand +> at Bread and Confidence, turns the two fingers downward and swings +> them back and forth in opposite directions to convey walking. This was +> followed by a single finger pointing in the general direction they had +> last seen the hotelier; then the finger hooks inward, the arm +> repeating a yanking motion once or twice before ending the gesture +> with a thumb tossed over their shoulder towards the hallway away from +> the staff entrance, to ask them to get their boss out of the library +> to a safe spot. +> +> Without waiting for confirmation from the toques, Inky opens the door, +> abruptly stops, turns and shoves a compostable bag of mango-flavoured +> croutons at Bread, gives them a thumbs up in return and a mildly +> disturbing, eye-crinkling smile behind their kerchief, before slipping +> inside the smoky room. One hand is already pulling out a thin, +> extendable metal walking pole with a carrying strap visually +> resembling the type used by hikers from their courier bag to check for +> obstacles amid the lowered visibility. + +Confidence watches all of your hand gestures closely, and then nods +resolutely. They draw their large hoe, and turn and start to crouch run +toward the main entrance to to the main hall of the library. + +Bread looks confused, but ready to follow Confidence. They grab their +heavy meat tenderizer and crouch down in imitation of their fellow +toque. Before they can run off, you shove a bag of croutons into their +arms. "Small. Toasted. Bread," they intonate slowly in wonder. The +confusion falls from their face as they break into a wide grin. "Now +I'll never disappear without a trace," they laugh. They thank you and +run like a duck after Confidence. + +> Inside, Inky lobs the empty glass vial that had held the unpleasantly +> pungent organic catalyst at a spot the floor several paces roughly +> from where the Cyberplasm --- presumably the leader of the group --- +> had been standing earlier, in the opposite direction of the staff +> entrance in an attempt to divert attention from the hotelier's last +> location. As they edge along the wall towards the tower stairs, +> walking pole looped over one hand, Inky grabs a few small hardcover +> novellas from a wall shelf. Straightening from their crouch, Inky +> tosses them one at a time horizontally in quick succession like a +> discus, but without the full-body turning motion, across the hall +> towards the sounds of frustrated groans and angry muttering. The first +> starting higher around where a human head might have once been, one at +> waist height and another at the juncture below where ectoplasmic knees +> might meet prosthetic legs. + +You pick up three hardback novellas. If it wasn't so smoky, and if you +weren't so much in the middle of a potentially life and death struggle +with the Cyberplasm captain of a pirate airship, you might notice their +titles: *Stop and Smell the Crystals*, *Living the Corn*, and *A Big +Moon*. + +```{=html} + +``` +Anyway, you start flinging. + +```{=html} + +``` +After you toss the catalyst, you can see a plasmic form heavily blurred +and obscured by the smoke turn in that direction. You fling *Stop and +Smell the Crystals* at it, and it spins like a discus and smashes into +the pirate right in the face, above the chin. It howls and brings its +hand to its face, and turns and charges up its arm cannon. + +```{=html} + +``` +Mostly going on sound now, you fling *Living the Corn* at the pirate's +moan and at the electric whine of the canon charging. You hear the canon +discharge but the half-blind pirate fires wide. You see the flash of the +energy blast hitting something, someone, else obscured by smoke in the +middle distance between the two of you. A man screams out in pain. Right +after the muffled thump of his body hitting the ground, you hear the +clinking and ringing of something heavy and metallic striking and +rolling across the floor. + +*Living on Corn* strikes the pirate in the elbow, and with a fizzle and +a spark, the arm cannon sputters offline. + +```{=html} + +``` +The pirate stumbles forward, half-lame and half-blind. It stoops and +scoops up a heavy melon-sized object. It stomps its cybernetic boot, and +small rockets spring out from small compartments on either side of its +ankle. They start to fire up and the pirate is about to make its escape +when *A Big Moon* hits it right above knee and severs the ghost's final +connection to its final enhancement. + +It groans as it starts to dissipate, dropping the heavy object once +more. + +"My crew, it is too late for me! I shall never have a new body now! But +it's not too late for you! You must bring the quintessence to Mother!" + +And then the pirate's essence is diluted in the smoke filling the +library. + +> At that moment Inky hears a very low whirring accompanied by clicking +> sounds behind them and without glancing backwards, swings the walking +> pole at the source of the buzzing. The stick collides with something, +> sending it careening backwards with a light clatter through what is +> likely a row of bookshelves around the area already partially emptied +> of their contents. From the static noise that ensues, Inky realises +> whatever it was may or may not have been one of the wizard's bugs +> hovering in the shadows earlier or a disembodied, ectoplasm-spewing +> prosthetic limb after all. Inky calls out sheepishly, "Sorry, Young +> Master Alex! Was that yours? Oops? Haha?" before smashing two more +> empty glass bottles as a distraction for any remaining Cyberplasms +> lurking on the same floor, and sprints up the tower stairs, using the +> banisters as a guide. + +The Amber Imp is feverishly reporting all the goings on from inside the +S.T.A.G. drone when Inky strikes its conveyance with their walking pole. +The bug is destroyed on contact. The imp barely manages to fire off one +final End Of Transmission post before ejecting from the craft, which +sinks below like an exploded firework. It drifts on the currents of +smoke and flows out through the hole in the wall into the open air +outside. The imp falls through open space and starts to think back on +its life. So much time and energy spent chasing its hopes and dreams, +its goals and aspirations. So much of its life wasted in pursuit. Always +reaching, never grasping. Is that all it gets? Is this the end? Did it +ever really even get a chance to really live? + +These thoughts race through its head as it falls, but are cut short when +it abruptly lands on a hard bed of cloudstuff. It tumbles and rolls and +comes to a stop. And when it looks up, amazed to be alive and vowing to +make the most of this second chance at life, it looks up into the +benevolent smiling face of a pink zephynos. + +\~ + +Inky, you cross the floor to where the pirate had its last stand. You +find what appears to be approximately one-fifth of the hotelier, and +wonder idly where the rest of him might be. And you notice a conspicuous +lack of Ginnarak Crystal. + +You do however notice a soft crunch underfoot. And when you bend down to +inspect it---disorganized cyberplasms running amok in the smoke behind +you---you discover a trail of mango flavored croutons leading across the +hall to the tower stairs. + +You sprint up the stairs using the banisters as a guide. The breadcrumb +trail ends on the seventh level, where Confidence sits slumped against +the wall between two bookshelves. They have one arm around four-fifths +of the hotelier, his shocked gaze telling you everything you need to +know, that he is entirely dead but just doesn't know it yet. Their other +arm is around Bread, who has suffered a massive wound to the chest and +is only slightly more alive than the hotelier. On the ground between +Confidence's legs is the Ginnarak Crystal. Several loose pages are stuck +to its sides, held in place by drying blood and ectoplasm. + +Confidence looks at you and smiles wearily. "We left a trail for you. It +was Bread's idea. They were a good guide." + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00250.html) + +#### 00049 {#00049} + +> "They *are* a good guide," Inky corrects adamantly. "Do you hear that, +> Bread? You're not allowed to disappear until you've had an entire bag +> of these croutons, and even then you're still not allowed. If I'd +> known you'd never had croutons before I wouldn't have let you walk a +> step further into that hall. That was simultaneously the worst and +> best idea ever. Mango! Croutons! What a travesty. Did you even taste +> any of it? No? You have to! How can you offer guests delicious fondue +> without croutons? Speaking of which, we haven't gotten that fondue you +> promised yet, that's reason #144 you can't disappear. What's reason +> #143? Crostinis. Small toasted bread. Slice of life. You can put +> cheese on it too, if you really must ..." +> +> And so on. While Inky talks at Bread in a bid to keep them conscious, +> they whisk out a first-aid kit from their courier bag and kneeling on +> the floor, proceeds to stem the bleeding from the chest wound with +> coagulant-coated bandages. Slowly, they tip a flask of tea infused +> with some restorative herbs down Bread's open mouth, careful not to +> pour too quickly. Inky pauses mid-diatribe and mid-pour to thrust +> another flask of tea into Confidence's hand, the one wrapped +> four-fifths of the hotelier and ask, "Are you injured? Please keep an +> eye on your companion, I will summon for assistance." +> +> Standing up, Inky walks to a window, opens it and peers out. They look +> around for a hot air balloon and notice the unmoored airship. After +> squinting at it with a mini-spyglass, they see Alex standing at the +> helm of the ship with a young hemogoblin on board. Inky waves, and +> makes a vertical cross sign with a fist and thumb on the opposite +> upper arm a few times. Next, they pull out a small tin whistle, and +> toot a few sharp notes in the same cadence as the one-liner directed +> at Bread earlier by the gondola station. After a moment, a scops owl +> swoops in to land on the windowsill. Inky inserts a rolled piece of +> paper into a small pouch hanging at the bird's back, and the bird +> flies off again. +> +> Returning to the figures slumped against the wall, Inky places the +> Ginnarak crystal in a lightly padded cloth bag, stowing it away in +> their knapsack-style backpack. They resume checking and tending to the +> toques' injuries, while expounding upon various permutations of +> toasted bread to a captive audience. + +Bread closes their eyes and smiles dreamily at the descriptions of +various breads. They weakly sip the tea as you tip it into their mouth +and swallow with effort. + +```{=html} + +``` +They sigh and open their eyes. They focus on you and maintain eye +contact as you draw from a seemingly bottomless well of knowledge on the +topic of toasted breads. Bread and life are clinging fast to each other, +neither ready or willing to let go of the other. They are going to be +okay. + +Confidence's wounds are superficial. They are winded from dragging Bread +and the hotelier up seven flights of stairs. But they are fine. + +The hotelier's wounds are sadly quite fatal. Honestly it was all over +for him the moment he took the full force of the captain's plasma canon +to his chest. He babbles, "It's not ... I wasn't ..." And then with +sudden realization and quiet resignation, a clear-eyed, "Oh." And then +he is gone. + +His courage in the face of danger is the reason you now have the third +of the five Ginnarak Crystals in your pack. Whether or not his death was +in vain is now largely up to you and what you decide to do with the +crystal. + +\~ + +Downstairs in the Great Hall of the library, one of the remaining +Cyberplasms crouches down next to the inert cybernetic eye that until +very recently belonged to their captain. They pick it up and turn it +over in their hand. "Worry not, my captain," the ghost mourns. "We will +find the quintessence. And once we do, we will be made anew in the forge +of our Mother." + +He rolls the orb in palm of his hand. A faint arc of energy crackles +across its surface. And the eye rolls over of its own volition and looks +up at the pirate. + +Suddenly reverent, the pirate gently places the eye on the ground as a +ghostly face begins to form around it. The pirate waits patiently, +attentively. It's not every day one gets to bare witness to a new birth. +The ectoplasm that gathers around the eye forms a rail-thin body. Its +head is bald and its face sports a neatly trimmed mustache. It is +missing an arm and a leg. + +Dutifully, the witness fetches a recently discarded arm canon and leg +booster. The exotica tap into the energy provided by a new crossing +over, and come online, and create a new mesh. + +The hotelier stands and looks down at its new body. As it were. It looks +around at its surroundings. It picks up a few books and starts shelving +them. + +The pirate, mostly wishing to provide companionship and comfort to the +new ghost, assists with tidying up. + +\~ + +Alex, you are at the helm of the balloon-ship. As you start to drift +slightly up and away, the blue dome of the hotel comes into view. On its +peak you can see a life-sized statue of a stern-faced Runesocesius +wielding a spear, drawn back as though ready to hurl an angry +thunderbolt down at the world below. + +The hemogoblin is still down on the deck by the canons. You see it +waving cheerily at the library tower. You squint in that direction, but +can't see what has caught its attention. + +A small tufted-ear owl silently lands next to you breaking you from your +reverie. The owl is wearing a small harness with a pouch at the back. +Inside the pouch is a rolled piece of paper signed by Inky, up on the +seventh floor of the tower. + +You count seven windows up the side of the tower from its base. There +seems to be some movement inside, but you can't make much out from here. +With a lucky shot, you think you might be able to hook the window frame +with a zipline. + +\~ + +Outside, a pink zephynos is spinning raw cloud into a minuscule opera +house and performing arts center under the direction of an amber imp +with a new hunger for life. It is an organic looking structure: a +primary concert hall, surrounded by a number of smaller stages and +performance areas spiraling out from the center like a nautilus shell. + +The imp smiles happily, proudly. What tales will be told here! What +songs will be sung! "Lorehold," it whispers to itself. "You will tell +the world's stories." + +It is already trying out lines in its head, imagining the play it will +write of this day. About the hotel and the library and the pirates and +the cloud dragons. About a pair of adventurers. And a very brave and +lucky drone pilot that dared to chase its dreams. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00252.html) + +#### 00050 {#00050} + +> Meta: I look forward to reading the A.I.'s play once it's written, we +> should go back and write the sequence of events for this segment from +> their perspective in play form at some point. +> +> Alex gingerly takes the note from the owl and reads it quickly. "I +> guess my S.T.A.G. got to Inky after all." Eyeing the tower and cutting +> up the windows, it looks like maybe I'd get a shot in from the zip +> line. But it's iffy. +> +> Alex grabs the wheel and guides the balloonship slowly up a few +> levels. From that vantage point it should only be 3-4 levels between +> the ship and I. +> +> After getting the ship in place he grabs a zip line canon and launches +> it at one of the windows on the 7th floor, sinking the anchor firmly +> beneath the window. +> +> Now to signal Inky... Alex rummages around the ship, finding both a +> signal flare gun and flares in the cargo hold, at least the pirates +> were prepared for the worst. Taking aim away from the Balloon Sails, +> Alex fires the flare up into the air creating a dazingly and bright +> signal in the sky. + +You fire the zipline and the hemogoblin cheers adorably. The spear +pierces the stone right beneath the 7th floor window, and the hooks +extend and foam, cementing the line in place. + +In a locker on the side of the ship you find a few signal flares. You +point them away from the balloons and fire into the sky. The flares +explode brilliantly and hang dazzling in the sky before slowly drifting +downward. + +A pair of zephynos swim over, attracted by the brilliant sparkling +lights. They excitedly bat at the air with their hands and turn +somersaults. They pull at some clouds and squeeze them into dozens of +abstract forms inspired by the bursts. They toss them back and forth +playfully and soon the boulders are drifting around listlessly overhead. + +Below, almost all of the Cyberplasms have noticed by now that their ship +has been stolen. Several crowd into the hole in the wall and shout and +shake their fists at you. + +You hear a low chirrup behind you and turn to see the hemogoblin +standing in the middle of the deck. Somehow in all the commotion it has +managed to get its tiny little hands on the ruby-hilted dagger. It grips +the hilt tightly in both hands and gazes in wide-eyed wonder at the gem, +utterly captivated, back turned to the fireworks. The hemogoblin and the +blade are absolutely dripping with rivers of blood. A decent sized pool +has already formed at its feet. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00257.html) + +#### 00051 {#00051} + +> As they wait for the balloonship to approach, Inky glances to the +> prone remains of the hotelier on the floor and frowns. There wasn't +> much they could do about that now. It was really inconvenient timing +> --- he hadn't received the papers yet. Inky can already picture Cio's +> unspoken but palpable disappointment even as she offered reassurances +> that it was perfectly fine. The gnawing guilt she could inflict with a +> look was worse than a tenacious terrorier with a bone biscuit. Then +> Inky recalls an urban legend from the elderly aunts they sometimes +> pass by during teatimes, which claim that it was possible to send +> messages and items to the deceased by burning the articles. +> +> Ducking momentarily behind another bookshelf, Inky removes an envelope +> bearing the seal of a butterfly in red wax, drops it into a +> recently-emptied shortbread tin and holds a lit match to a corner of +> the paper. Before long the entire envelope is consumed by the flames +> and the lid replaced tightly over the tin. If the paperwork found its +> way to the hotelier on the spiritual plane, that would be the +> formalities completed. Or if it was reduced to ashes without ever +> reaching the recipient, no one had to know. +> +> Inky walks back to the window to see a flare light and a zip line +> ending below the windowsill. They look to the other end of the line, +> back to the toques, and around the room. Their gaze lands on a few +> cloth covers draped over several bookshelves near an alcove from top +> to bottom, possibly to protect the manuscripts on the shelves from +> extended exposure to dust and light. They tie a large red kerchief to +> the zip line to indicate they had seen flare signal, before turning to +> Confidence. "There's an airship waiting outside with a zip line. We +> should get Bread patched up by a healer in town. It wouldn't do to +> have them walk around like that, unless you want to turn the hotel +> into a haunted house attraction." +> +> As they finish speaking, Inky pulls off three of the covers, two iron +> spears and one of the two decorative flag poles with flags featuring +> the crest of Runesocesius, and a symbol (of the old town, Inky +> surmises) that stood in a nook between the wall and a bookshelf. +> Crossing over to a wall display of ceremonial chains and maces, they +> remove two of the metal chains that hung on from hooks on the wall. +> Having gathered the items, they retrieve two zip line harnesses, some +> parachute cord and two additional pulley hooks from their bag. +> +> They lay the chains on the floor about two feet apart, followed by the +> cloth sheets with their outer surfaces facing down over them, and tie +> the corners at both ends to the flag pole to form the base of a +> makeshift hammock. With Confidence's help, they slide Bread onto the +> sheets, being cautious to avoid further jostling the toque's injuries. +> Inky wraps the ends of the chains around the flagpole, tying them and +> the cloth bundle with loops of parachute cord, and sets the pulley +> hooks to links on the top surface of the flag pole. +> +> Inky puts on a zip line harness and throws the spare one to +> Confidence, directing them to do the same. With some difficulty, they +> hoist the bundle of Bread to the window. Inky descends first, hooking +> their harness pulley to the zip line as they brace against the tower +> wall. As the bundle is slowly lowered through the window, Inky +> connects the pulley hooks on the metal chains to the zip line, +> Confidence bringing up the rear while Inky holds the hammock steady. +> +> While the zephynos play overhead, the three of them prepare to slide +> down to the deck of the balloonship along the zip line. + +Confidence and Inky, framing the Bread basket between them, slide down +the zipline to the balloonship. The zephynos frolic up overhead, and the +hole in the library wall gapes below. And beyond that, the endless sea +of clouds. + +Inky, having descended the line first, makes it to the ship ahead of +Bread and Confidence. They clambor up over the side, unhook themself, +and reach for the corner of the hammock. + +The 3rd Ginnarak Crystal is now on the deck of the ship. + +Looking up, Inky sees that two determined cyberplasms have started +following them out the library tower window. Neither has a harness. One +is hanging upside down on the cable, arms and legs wrapped around it, +and has managed to shimmy a couple feet away from Runesocesius. The +other has just swung out of the window and is holding onto the line with +their hands. They are kicking their legs up over and over, trying to +swing high enough to lock their ankles around the cable. + +In the time that it will take you to unhook the hammock and get both +Bread and Confidence onto the ship, the two pirates will have closed +most of the distance between you and might be within striking distance. + +Meanwhile on the deck of the ship, the hemogoblin is deeply entranced by +a private conversation it seems to be having with the ruby-hilt dagger. +It nods and chirps and coos as it continues to strangle the grip in its +tiny bloody hands, singing softly and soothingly. The ruby flashes and +glints, almost strobe-like in the sunlight, as though in the midst of +some kind of struggle. But as the hemogoblin continues its strange +lullaby, the gem eventually fades and grows dull, until finally it +resembles nothing more than a lifeless lump of stone. + +The hemogoblin releases its death grip on the dagger and lowers its arms +to its sides, allowing the dagger to slip to the ground. It looks up at +you happily with ruby-red eyes that seem to flash in the sunlight, and +it chirps merrily. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2023-01/msg00014.html) + +#### 00052 {#00052} + +> Hmm well, that umm, heya little fella. What umm, what did you find +> there? Alex moves to pick up Uncle Corraidhin's dagger, noting that +> it's not nearly as brilliant as it was before. The ruby gem in the +> hilt appearing far closer to black obsidian now, rather unnerving all +> things considered.. +> +> "There's definitely something wrong with this Hemogoblin, this isn't +> normal" Alex thinks to himself, "What in the ever loving run level 0 +> did Uncle have this dagger for, and why the hell would he stuff it +> inside some old book." He deftly pockets the dagger, for further +> inspection once they're back at base. Likely someone at HQ can do a +> deeper analysis of it then. Thinking ahead, Alex also grabs a +> handkerchief from his breast pocket and soaks it in the pool of blood +> around the hemogoblin, better than nothing he supposes. +> +> Pulling a multi pronged instrument labelled "GBD" from his bag Alex +> begins to inspect the hemogoblin for magical, metaphysical, and +> technological aburations. "Just sit still a bit little fella, lets see +> what's going on" + +The hemogoblin hums merrily as you retrieve the dagger and fruitlessly +attempt to mop up the pool of blood. It wriggles around---suddenly +seemingly boneless---and giggles and blows raspberries as you try to +take measurements with the GBD. It is kind of annoying but also totally +cute. + +Your instrument picks up on an anomaly. You have a clear vital signal +for the hemogoblin. That's normal. And there is an extremely high amount +of ferrous material inside of it. But you think that's also probably +normal for a hemogoblin. Finally, there is a faint signal of some other +kind of entity. And that is not normal. + +Under normal circumstances you would say, given the measurements, that +this second non-goblin entity is in some kind of stable but near-death +or catatonic state. As though it is a deep sleep. Is there some weird +magic at work here? Or is this some strange, undocumented part of the +normal hemogoblin physiology? Did this little fella just absorb a knife +spirit? + +The hemogoblin reaches up and holds your hand as you pass the instrument +over its body. It smiles at you happily. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2023-01/msg00016.html) + +#### 00053 {#00053} + +> The GDB flashes, vibrates, and murmurs electronic static as it +> collects information from the Hemogoblin. "Peculiar readings indeed" +> Alex mutters, stashing the blood sample and readings from the device. +> Best to scp a copy of these for safe keeping. +> +> scp gdb-readout.dat blood-soaked-handky hq:~ +> +> Alright little guy, dunno what's wrong with ya, but you seem just as +> sweet and chipper as you were before, best not let anything foul +> befall you. Alex scoops the little hemogoblin up and puts him into his +> pack. The little goblin chirps happily, soaking the back in blood. +> "Hmm I guess I'll need a new cloak when we get to town.. good thing +> the STAGS are water proof." Taking accord of the situation Alex +> notices that Ink has dropped onto the deck, and is hurridly beckoning +> what looks like a stretcher and confidence down the zip line. "I guess +> things went not so smoothly back in the hotel then.." +> +> Looking up past confidence along the zip line Alex also notes a set of +> cyberplasms making their way clumsily along the zipline. "Shit! Inky, +> Confidence! Get the hell on the ship NOW!" +> +> Alex dashes back up to the helm of the ship and grabs the wheel. As +> soon as Inky has Confidence and the stretcher safely on the deck Alex +> grabs the wheel and casts the wheel hard to starboard side, ripping +> the zipline and moarings from the wall of the hotel. "Inky cut the +> zipline, quick a you can, and check the side of the hull for any stow +> aways!!" + +\~ + +> As the toques slide down the last few feet to the deck of the +> balloonship. Inky takes out a sharp knife and saws through the +> zipline. As they patrol along the edge to check the side of the hull +> for additional company, Inky pulls out a tea strainer from their kit +> and opens a bag of limequats, small round fruits they keep around for +> their zest and juice to flavour some infusions. They drop a limequat +> into the strainer, preparing to fling a ball of citrus at the +> potential presence of any stowaways. + +Inky and Confidence carefully dump Bread onto the deck of the ship. They +grunt at the impact and mutter a weak thank you. + +Inky starts to saw through the zipline with their knife. The closest +cyberplasm can almost reach out for the railing and haul itself up. The +second pirate is not far behind it. Alex yanks the ship hard to +starboard and---thanks to Inky sawing on it---the line snaps cleanly in +two. + +Inky looks over the railing in time to see the second pirate fall into +the sea of clouds with a surprised look on its face. There is no trace +of the first one. As Inky patrols alongside the edge to check for +additional company, they see one ghostly hand and then the other reach +up and grab hold of the rail. + +When the cyberplasm pops its head up and peers over the railing, the +first thing it sees is a tea strainer flying at its face. It tries to +turn away, but ends up with a face full of limequat juice nonetheless. +As the citrus starts to burn, it squeezes its eyes shut tight, even +tighter than its grip on the railing. All of its focus and effort is +concentrated on the burning sensation in its eyes. On autopilot, one of +its hands lets go of the railing to quickly wipe the juice away. + +When it grips the railing again, its hand is now slick with juice, and +it slips. Knocked off balance and unable to get a grip, the pirate cries +out as it too falls into the ocean of clouds, eyes squeezed shut the +whole time. + +Poking its head and arms out of the pack on Alex's back, the hemogoblin +claps and cheers. + +The balloonship sails away from Runesocesius and from Kelsun Peak. The +sun is starting to set, and the clouds are turning brilliant pinks and +reds. This delights the zephynos, who leap and cavort in the clouds, and +run playfully alongside the ship for a while. + +You have in your possession a stolen pirate airship, a recovered +Ginnarak Crystal, a couple novellas and manhwa, two warrior toque tour +guides, and a childlike hemogoblin who may or may not be possessed by +some kind of spirit. + +END OF CHAPTER 3 + +- What do you do once you get back to the Milk Market? +- Do you keep the airship? +- What becomes of Confidence and Bread? +- What do you do with the goblin child? + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2023-01/msg00019.html) diff --git a/src/epistolary/00038.md b/src/epistolary/00038.md deleted file mode 100644 index df4a1be..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00038.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,431 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00038 -created: Mon, 14 Nov 2022 18:30:25 -0700 -updated: Mon, 14 Nov 2022 18:30:35 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00038 {#00038} - -> The mission, party-wise, had been an abject failure. -> -> They had found the crystal, and Master Corraidhín had vanished. -> Inky wasn't sure which was worse — the appalling lack of -> water-resistant fireworks surrounding the disappearance, or the -> bears' ceaseless waterworks in grief over their ghostly -> counterparts. Said bears plus a giant manta ray were eventually -> left with the remains of Inky's two snack stashes. (The third was -> back on the *Diamond Howler*.) The crystal was currently securely -> hidden away inside the Milk Market, which was for the best. Inky -> was not about to drag around an inedible melon that could -> potentially level entire cities, if the wizard's hints about its -> power were true. The crystal-retrieval missions were a cover anyway -> — Inky had gotten what they were looking for. The equipment and -> provisions sponsored by the Benefactor were a handy bonus though. -> -> Inside the tent, Inky adds the finishing flourishes to a package -> and places it to one side, next to two others of a similar size and -> a thin envelope already piled inside a padded sack on the ground. -> The client should be pleased. It had taken longer, but the result -> had been worth the additional hassle. The envelope, on the other -> hand … who knew what had become of the previous one, sent in an -> impulsive fit of post-dive haze once the ship had docked at the -> port town. Donning a grey fedora, a worn light brown jacket, a -> flask kettle and a wooden box with carrying straps, Inky the "Tiny" -> tea seller leisurely sets off for the post office, sack in hand. -> -> It was still a bit strange — if less shocking than the first time -> it happened — to speak in rabbiton with the postmistress at the -> counter, although Inky couldn't actually detect any significant -> differences from the common tongue besides occasionally being -> reminded they shouldn't be able to understand the sounds at all. -> Rabbiton or rabbitoff, hare mail couriers are among the fastest -> across Basmentaria and will ensure any parcels and letters arrive -> at their recipients in a timely manner. Due to their broad network -> and high delivery confidence, letters without return addresses were -> no issue; they can deliver with a valid recipient address, which -> they are able to verify from an extensive series of registries and -> course codes before taking the item. So it was that one such -> envelope containing yet another somewhat unusual recipe was -> promptly delivered to the Milk Market's ground floor on a blustery -> Boltday afternoon. -> -> Postage done, Inky wanders through one of the city's seedier -> districts, peddling cups of hot tea along the way. This had become -> a daily routine for a little over a month since the Sugrin Sea -> mission (longer and more sporadically before that whenever the imp -> was in the city), including a spontaneous fifteen-minute "Tiny -> Teatime" held in open areas such as small parks, or occasionally in -> a back alley between several crowded residences. The tea happening -> had initially been a whimsical response to *Teatime with Tanokuma* -> and still regularly attracted children when iced drinks were served -> during the summertime. -> -> Rows of slightly crooked houses sandwiched among acacia trees line -> a narrow, winding lane. Inky passes the elderly playing tabula -> surrounded by a small group of onlookers, people chewing on sweet -> lemongrass or peeling vegetables, hanging up laundry on colourful -> lines made of scrap rags, children laughing and chasing soapy -> bubbles with wands dripping from laundry water, and all sorts of -> activity that made houses into homes. Many of them were frank about -> not having any spare coins for extras like speciality teas brewed -> "just like them shops", but gladly accepted a steaming bamboo cup -> upon realising they needn't pay, if sometimes a little suspiciously -> at first. Instead of coin, they held a rich font of stories, local -> legends, folk remedies, cooking methods, insider tip-offs and -> rumours, which they were often eager to impart to an attentive -> audience. -> -> Some of the passer-by were always in a hurry, downing the tea as -> though it were a shot of hard liquor before retrieving a handful of -> loose coins from a pocket or sock. When Inky smiled and told them -> there was no charge, most would return a puzzled look or uncertain -> smile, or roll their eyes, and drop a copper coin into a slot on -> the lid of the box anyway. A few had promptly walked off wordlessly -> with snickering faces, as though they had gotten away with -> something clever. Regardless, it was one of the best ways to see -> and observe a bustling metropolis. No one took any particular -> notice of young urchins and vendors selling refreshments, flowers -> and various trinkets on the streets. -> -> Likewise no one witnessed a tea seller pause near one of the -> windows at the back of Enrique's Empanada Emporium late in the day. -> For a while they watch the chef within in action, clearly in his -> element, before reluctantly pulling away and retreating quietly up -> the stairs to the second floor. They should wash up and see if -> their marketing manager is in the mood for some takeout and -> Terrapin Ale this evening. - -~ - -> Background: Alex isn't young, but in comparison to his whizzened -> uncle Corraidhin he's the depiction of youth. He has jet black hair -> and alert blue eyes, and a quiet serenity about him that gives one -> pause, as though he's constantly calculating. He gives into his -> passions quickly however, and becomes rather animated when his -> emotions break loose. He'll be the first to curse his uncle for his -> foolish endeavors, never quite understanding the sysorcerer's way. -> Early in life, after the death of his parents, Corraidhin took him -> under his wing and tried in vain to teach him the ways of magical -> systems administration. Much to Corraidhin, it only resulted in -> damaged systems, and a rift with his nephew. -> -> It took years to recover from that, but eventually the two grew -> close again, though distant nonetheless. That closeness reflects -> itself in the situation Alex finds himself in now, a mysterious -> alert from some overly contrived magical system, ruining his -> perfectly good winning streak. It's not that he was necessary bad -> at all of that stuff, it just, wasn't as much fun as gambling. And -> it certainly wasn't as exhillerating as writing malware. -> -> Breaking into a system, smashing it to bites and pieces, watching -> the carefully wrought design burn in amber and green, now THAT was -> magic. -> -> META: Alex is like Corraidhin in some aspects, he's younger, more -> brash, more given to whim and fancy. He's somewhat greedy and -> craven, attracted to riches far too easily. He's a passionate -> gambler, not due to his skill, but by virtue of his ability to -> distract and confuse, which gives him a delightful edge. Some would -> call it lucky, but he calls it subterfuge. He has some sysorcerer -> skills, nothing quite as flexible as Corraidhin, but he -> delightfully wreaks havoc with worms, scrapers, ransom & spyware. -> If he can't bypass something, he'll delightfully destroy it. If he -> can't break in, he'll distract someone or something so he can slip -> by. -> -> (Think rogue + illusion magic, where Corraidhin is straight Wizard) -> -> Introduction: Kev, just give it to me straight, the hell does this -> Deadman's trigger mean. You can't have a service like that flap, -> it's a boolean, you're either dead or your not. And don't try to -> lie to me, I'm not some project managing schmuck, you know full and -> well Uncle Corraidhin taught me. I know enough to tell when you're -> lying. -> -> (Kevin) Ah, well, umm. Yes I suppose that's true. You can't be dead -> and not. It's just not an option. But Zabbix doesn't lie! It's what -> monitors your Uncle's life force, the state of his infrastructure -> so to speak. Look check your own, there's nothing to indicate any -> issue with you, but your uncle's fluxuates consistently. None of -> his other state checks are failing though! So it could just be a -> problem with his Deadman's trigger code. -> -> Absolutely not. Corraidhin might be a flighty fool, but he's not -> someone who would deploy faulty code to production. There's no way -> in hell it would get past his linter, let alone all of the QA he -> does before it even gets that far. Look, what the hell did you drag -> him into, you know exactly what he gets up to, just point me in his -> direction so I can get this shit over with. -> -> (Kevin) Hmm, he didn't really want me to talk about it, but last I -> saw him, he was babbling on and on about some magical Json sword or -> something. I couldn't quite keep up with it. -> -> You were trying to get him to buy into KDL again weren't you? -> -> (Kevin) It's a good language I swear, and if your uncle had just.. -> (Alex cuts him off) -> -> Hush it. What did the sword look like, where was he headed? -> -> (Kevin) *sigh* it was large, with a ruby hilt, and a magical eye of -> some sort. I'm certain if you just ask around you'll find it. Just -> ask about the sysorcerer who mutters to his sword, that's how the -> poor bastard is remembered around here these days. -> -> -> With this information Alex departed the Sysorcerer's guild in -> search of his Uncle. As he asked around town, people shied away. -> Nasty business talking about that one, they'd tell him. A few -> mentioned something about an attack, and a dagger and bloodlust the -> likes of which they'd only heard from the bard at their local -> tavern. None of this sounded like the Uncle he remembered, but he -> followed the trail until it lead him to the Milk Maid. -> -> As Alex checked around for someone, anyone who seemed to be in the -> know, he spotted Inky, serving tea as she watched the ongoings at -> the Empanada shop near the Milk Maid. -> -> Excuse me, miss? You wouldn't have happened to seen my Uncle, he's -> an old whizened fellow. Constantly harrumphs and goes on and on -> endlessly about some magical script, or how much he hates the -> School of Powershell. I haven't been able to find him, and I've -> been looking all over the city for the better part of 3 days. Note -> even his best friend Kevin at the Sysorcer's guild knew where he -> was, and I'm just, I'm at a bit of a loss.. -> -> *sigh* I'm sorry to just unload on your like that. If you don't -> know him that's okay, I'd be happy to pay for a cup of tea for your -> time. - -~ - -> *(Two days prior)* -> -> An office, barely illuminated by the glow of a moonstone lamp. -> -> An elf attired in red silk dress robes with a shimmering pattern of -> butterflies, a red floral picture hat and matching high heel boots -> lounged in the visitor's chair in front of a heavy wooden desk. The -> charms dangling from her wrist circlets tinkled as she reached for -> a teacup. A silver tray was placed to one side of the desk with a -> pot of maghrebi francus, two porcelain cups and a bowl of sugar -> cubes. The remaining surface was mostly covered by a map of -> Basmentaria, the moonstone lamp and a short stack of books. Behind -> the desk sat an imp in a midnight blue suit, a dart pen balanced on -> the edge of two fingers of one hand, while the other tapped a -> silent rhythm on the pineapple leather armrest. -> -> The lady in dress robes spoke first. "I made some inquiries. That -> sysorcerer acquaintance of yours seems to be stuck in some sort of -> spatial-temporal loop. The anomalies are usually salvageable given -> time and expert attention. His nephew is out looking for him now." -> She hands the imp a sheet with a drawing of a pensive but -> bright-eyed young man with dark hair, and several lines of notes -> below. "How are things at your end?" -> -> "The situation is tenable for the moment. One checked, another -> disengaged. Between the wizard and bard, Blackfoot will think twice -> before making any more untoward moves. One of the waiters at the -> club said the bard gave him a little dressing-down after the -> stabbing. He was practically shaking in his boots by the end of -> it." -> -> The elf laughed. "I read your earlier missive. Slipping a catalyst -> into a milk pudding to stir up a bloodthirsty sword? I guess you -> were pretty sure the thirst wouldn't get out of hand and kill the -> hobbit outright." -> -> "Not entirely, but the good wizard would fight it with considerable -> strength of will. That guild of his may be full of white hats too -> busy with their petty squabbling over semantics to see trouble -> looming until it smacked them in their faces, but they have their -> principles and will not give in easily when challenged." The imp -> grimaced. "An unpleasant matter but arguably a necessity. It was -> only a matter of time before the cursed sword would find itself a -> target. May as well put evil to good use." -> -> "You did what you had to do, Ink. And that sailor with the gold -> eye?" -> -> "Met with an unfortunate … accident. Securing the crystal would -> have been sufficient, but the horkosgrampus weren't terribly -> impressed with him. The Benefactor should be relieved. Men of their -> ilk would sooner sell to the highest bidder." The pen twirled in -> their hand once, twice, before pausing with the nib pointing -> downward at a spot on the map. The imp continued, "All the more -> reason to move as soon as the young man finds his uncle. Kelsun -> Peak, most likely." -> -> "Right. I'll let the others know if anything happens." She rose to -> her heels in a whisper of brocade silks. "Do you want an antidote -> for … ?" She gestured with a slim, graceful hand framed in delicate -> strands of the gold bracelets towards her companion. -> -> The imp inclined their head slightly in grateful acknowledgement. -> "No need. The condition is relatively harmless and reversing the -> effects now might raise suspicion. The postmistress at the Hutcheon -> Lane branch of Leplus Post was very tickled by it." -> -> "I see. So that's how it is." she replied with undisguised mirth. -> The imp ignored her smirk. "Please see to it the preparations are -> carried out. The fate of your beloved operetta house may well -> depend upon it." -> -> "You would never!" The elven lady exclaimed in mock affront. "No, I -> wouldn't, even though it is the bane of all fine glassware. -> However, if the crystals came to less discerning hands …" They -> shared a solemn look before the elf nodded and swept out of the -> room, leaving the cloying scent of violets in her path. -> -> ~ -> -> Inky gestures wordlessly for the young wizard to follow them -> upstairs to the second floor of the Milk Market, heading straight -> for the room at one end of a long hallway. -> -> As Inky enters, their small and fluffy marketing manager pops its -> head out of the wooden tub of water standing to one side of the -> room. "We have a visitor!" Inky cheerfully tells the duck. Their -> marketing manager looks back at them both and says, "QUACK!" -> -> Inky turns back to the young man with a smile. "Please have a seat. -> How may we address you? Tea? No charge for Master Corraidhín's -> nephew, of course." -> -> Once seated on some cushions thrown over a slightly ratty tartan -> rug and having poured out a steaming cup of mandarin pekoe for each -> of them, Inky begins, "So, about your uncle. The good news is, we -> know him. The bad news is, we knew him." They then proceed to -> recount the events of their latest mission at the site of a -> shipwreck out in the Sugrin Sea, and the elder sysorcerer's -> disappearance. - -Prelude: - -A fringe movement of lunatic paleornithologists and crackpots of -various other professions has slowly been gaining traction over the -last few decades. The movement was born when the enterprising Modern -Fuchsia, at the time a budding young scientist on a dig yearning to -make a name for himself, found the fossil of a modern feathered -bird---probably some kind of swallow---alongside a theropod, that -variety of dinosaur widely accepted to be the ancestor of modern -birds. Faced with what he believed to be irrefutable evidence of a -modern descendant coexisting alongside its own ancient ancestor, -Fuchsia arrived at the only conclusion he was capable of making: -Birds Are Not Dinosaurs. And thus BAND came into being. - -Ever since, Fuschia and his BANDits have spent considerable amounts -of time and energy attending conferences and publishing papers, -pouting and demanding to be taken seriously by the wider scientific -community. A community which, if it pays them any attention at all, -merely mocks and ridicules their crackpot theories. - -Modern Fuschia is of course wrong. But neither he nor his BANDits -know how dangerously close he came to the actual truth. - -For much, much deeper in the shadowy fringes of paleornithology, -there is a clandestine operation called BATT. And only BATT knows the -actual explanation for how a modern descendant might coexist -alongside its own ancestor. Birds Are Time Travelers. - -In the far future when birds are the dominant intelligent life on -Basmentaria, they do indeed invent time travel. The end result was -catastrophic and is the real reason that the dinosaurs went extinct. - -It is a common misconception that barn swallows are the most common -and widespread species of swallow. That distinction in fact belongs -to the *time swallow*. Although---if you're lucky---you'll never -actually see one. Since the Incident, the secret agents of BATT have -vowed never again to interfere with or try to alter the time stream. -Nor to allow anyone else to. The time swallows are special bred, -special trained, appearing wherever and whenever an anomaly appears -to remove it and restore the proper timeline. The tiny birds quite -literally swallow, consume, and destroy anything that meddles with -time. - -At their headquarters, in the present day, BATT Director Purple -Martin is delivering a report to his superior. Martin has a throaty -and rich voice of which he is self-conscious in the presence of his -superior's persistent silence. - -"We have successfully extracted the sysorcerer and have repaired the -anomaly. The subject is currently under the care of Felixe and is -expected to make a full recovery. In his possession were a couple of -interesting artifacts. One Class C sentient object, a sword. And a -piece of exotica of unknown origin. Our researchers so far suspect -that it is a sort of reliquary containing both elemental and divine -arcana. The xot's physical manifestation---a crystalline ore---thus -far prevents us from determining the precise identity of the arcana." - -Director Purple Martin is delivering this report to a lanky, thin man -folded into an armchair. He wears thin, wire spectacles with round -lenses, and dangles a walking stick over the arm of the chair as he -sits. He interrupts Martin with a rare utterance. "The reliquary. I -shall like to see it." - -Now then: - -Retrieval Team 43 welcomes Alex into their ranks even as they mourn -the loss of Corraidhín the Wizened. - -It starts off as a somber affair at Lucy's as you all sit around your -regular table, ensconced and wedged into a corner surrounded on two -sides by the red velvet curtains that line the walls. - -But then the hobbit joins you. - -Blavin Blandfoot orders a round of drinks in tribute to Corraidhín. -And then another round of drinks to welcome his nephew Alex. "A -family affair, is it not!" And then another round of drinks because -he is thirsty. - -The hobbit is in high spirits, brimming with flair and good cheer. -His arm is fully healed from the attack over a month ago at this very -table. His fond memories and frequent toasts to the sysorcerer make -no reference to the incident. - -"The Benefactor is immensely pleased with your performance so far!" -He punches a new hole in your Frequent Retrieval cards. "You are one -step closer to winning a FABULOUS PRIZE! I don't mind telling you I'm -a little jealous. Assuming you go the distance, of course. I mean who -doesn't love hot dogs and hot tubs!" He winks conspiratorially at -you. "To say nothing of actually getting to meet the Benefactor! Just -imagine!" - -After a few more drinks he eventually clears a space on the table and -rolls out a map of Basmentaria. "We once again have two reports of a -crystal spotting!" He jabs a finger at the mountain range in northern -Primora. "The first, as you know, has been reported by the zephynos -high atop Kelsun Peak." - -"The second," his voice quivers with excitement. He looks up at you -wide-eyed and gestures away from the map into open space. "Is on the -moon!" - -Seated a couple tables away from you is the same trio who were -present the last time you all met here: a dusty groll, a matted gnu, -and a curious Ornithologer. The observant among you, if you happened -to look, would notice that the Ornithologer wears a pinkish purplish -red armband with the word BAND on it. They listen to your proceedings -with great interest while trying really hard to look like they're not -listening. After Blavin's final proclamation, the trio finishes their -drinks, stands, and starts to leave the dining room. - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -- Do you give the second crystal to Blavin? -- Do you choose to go to Kelsun Peak, or to the moon? -- Who is the Lady in Red and what does she want? -- Will Corraidhín recover in the care of Felixe? -- Who does the Director of BATT report to and what do they want with - the 1st Crystal? -- What's the deal with the Ornithologer's Trio? -- Who left you the note signed with an iris and apple? - -Find out next time on BASEMENT QUEST - - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00097.html) - diff --git a/src/epistolary/00039.md b/src/epistolary/00039.md deleted file mode 100644 index abbe152..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00039.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,212 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00039 -created: Sat, 19 Nov 2022 07:38:02 -0700 -updated: Fri, 25 Nov 2022 07:11:12 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00039 {#00039} - -> Alex silently observes the party and this foolish hobbit, before him -> three untouched drinks have accumulated. He's a little less -> enthusiatic about taking drink from strangers, too much risk in that. -> As Blavin describes this crystal, whatever it may be, he catches a -> glimpse of the pinkish purplish armband on the party across from -> them. They don't look out of place given the patrons at the tavern, -> but he's certain they were listening in on the animated conversation -> of the hobbit. It could be nothing, or it coule be connected to -> Corraidhin, best to put a bug on them Alex thinks. -> -> Silently beneath the table and out of site Alex prepares a bug and -> sets it off to follow the person with the armband. Once the bug -> catches up to the part it's programmed to perform a tcpdump and -> capture information streaming around it, and then report back to Alex -> once full. By no means a perfect method of spying, but it's low -> energy and can be maintained from great distances without taxing -> Alex's energy. -> -> As Blavin comes back to the group from his grandoise space commentary -> Alex begins to question him. -> -> Enough of your theatrics hobbit. Tell me about the mark, you've -> obviously tipped off the entire tavern as to the whereabouts of -> whatever it is you're looking for, so give us an edge, something -> those evesdroppers a table over don't have. And cut this tripe about -> your benefactor, who is he, and what does he want with this magical -> baubbles. -> -> As Alex finishes his questions he sits quietly for a moment staring -> down Blavin. -> -> During this outburts, as all eyes turn to Blavin for his response, -> Alex casts yet another bug. This one sneaks onto the personage of -> Blavin himself. Programmed the same way. -> -> We'll get information from someone, subtle, or not if needed. - -~ - -> Inky watches with faint amusement as a magical device, likely a -> probe, found its way onto their mission handler. -> -> Inky might have missed the slight movement under the table if they -> weren't waiting for it, having received word of the younger wizard's -> penchant for pre-emptive offence magic. As it were, the offices and -> surrounding premises were routinely swept for similar devices, a more -> recent example of which had been placed in plain sight by an -> overzealous tabloid writer hoping to pick up an exclusive reveal. The -> quality of the contraption, which had immediately fallen apart when -> detached from its gum adhesive on the back of a glass vase, had been -> almost insulting. -> -> It seems Blackfoot hadn't learned his lesson after all, and if Alex -> was keen to give him a reminder, Inky had no objection. As Blavin -> takes another swig from his sixth drink of the evening, the waitress -> smiling at him with a wink as she set down their glasses before -> skating away to take another order (Inky made sure tip her liberally -> for the attentive service), Inky let their line of sight flicker to a -> fuchsia-coloured band on a departing customer's arm. -> -> Inky smiles internally at the sight — they can almost hear Beaker's -> crow of dismay. The poor kingfisher had been under increased pressure -> of late from other scientific associations and prominent speakers to -> exclude BAND from presenting at one of the largest annual ornithology -> conferences of the year on accusations of spreading misinformation -> and junk science in addition to attempting to erase the history of -> native bird tribes. There had been a huge row, which ended with the -> BANDits storming off, yelling about "the proof being crystal clear" -> and that they will bring "ancient arcane evidence". The Alcedinian -> researcher had lamented the halcyon days when conferences were -> avenues for scientific exchange, not twittering soapboxes. Not that -> anyone who had ever tried to arrange any gathering of birds of a -> feather really thought things simply glided along smoothly before. -> However, the advent of dedicated carrier pigeon networks had made it -> easier to relay research to and from smaller communities, opening the -> pathways for their participation, including a few somewhat -> Controversial fringe groups like BAND. - -Alex attempts to shake down the hobbit, who titters merrily at his -demands. - -"You know nearly everything I do, dear! Your *mark* as you put it," -Blaven theatrically drops his voice as he looks around for -eavesdroppers, "would be the zephynos of Kelsun Peak should you -choose to go that route. - -"If you choose to go to the moon, you'll have a harder go of it," he -frowns. He flips the map over and draws four circles in a straight -line. They have the proportions of a grapefruit, an orange, a -tangerine, and an orange. He jabs a finger at the grapefruit. "This -is us, here, earth." He points at the two oranges and the tangerine. -"And these are our planet's moons." He points to them in order. -"Selene, the Green Lady. Moonmoon. And Lua, the Red Lady. Recently, -as you well know, we had a super eclipse in which these four bodies -and the sun all lined up in perfect alignment. The combined magnetic -pull of the spheres allowed a rare commingling of the ionic spheres, -and our instruments were able to detect the crystal somewhere out -there in space. If I were to bet on it, I would put my money on Lua." -He points to the farthest moon, the Red Lady, with its own tiny -satellite, Moonmoon. He looks up at you and explains, "She's far -enough away that her ionosphere would never make contact with ours -except for in this particular, rare circumstance. That's why the -crystal has escaped our detection for so long." - -"As for the Benefactor!" He brightens up. "He's a magnificent fellow -as you well know! A renowned collector. His wishes are to preserve -the crystals and protect them (and us!) from their misuse or -mishandling! He has a hot tub!" he winks at you. "Speaking of -crystals," he adds as an afterthought, taking another sip of his -drink, "why don't you hand that crystal over to me and I'll deliver -it to the Benefactor. That is what he's paying you for after all!" - - - -The Ornithologer's Trio leaves Lucy's Basement quite oblivious to -their bug. The Ornithologer turns out to be the orator of their -little group, ranting about the conspiracy, the attempted cover up, -about how Big Science wants to convince you that birds are dinosaurs -but they're just pulling the wool over your eyes. The truth is right -there in the fossil record for crying out loud! All you have to do is -look for yourself. Nobody these days wants to *think* is the problem. -They just get their information from the authorities and take it as -gospel, but they don't see that the authorities have adopted a -narrative that suits their own ends. - -At which point the groll interjects and asks what is the end goal of -Big Science, and how exactly does convincing the proletariat that -birds are dinosaurs help achieve it? - -The BANDit scowls and answers, Look, you just don't get it, okay! - -The three split up and go their separate ways and disappear into the -night. - -You learn the following, one of which is true, one of which is false, -and one of which is meaningless. - -1. BAND plans to intercept the CRYSTAL of VOID and use it to petition -the Insatiable Wyrm for definitive proof that Birds Are Not -Dinosaurs. In this way they shall shame their fellow -paleornithologists and earn their rightful place at the table of Big -Science, which they have spent decades undermining. - -2. The Gnu Zealots intend to reverse engineer the power of the -crystals, create a newborn godling, and then release their findings, -thus laying the foundation of the world's first truly open source -religion - -3. The trio seeks the crystals not at all, but in fact search for -Sitopotnia, creator and progenitor of the entire amaizeon -race---including corbits, aurs, centaurs, and others---and the only -mortal in the history of Basmentaria to successfully take the mantle -of creation from the overgods. - - - -Meanwhile, Blaven slips out into the early, early morning carrying -his own bug. He whistles tunelessly to himself as he sails down the -street with a wide and veering but surprisingly steady gait. - -Once he gets a few blocks away, his gait narrows and his step becomes -more lively, a bit jaunty. He stands upright and ceases whistling. -All signs of drunkenness disappear as he tugs on his sleeves and -straightens his vest, and runs a hand through his hair. - -He meets a goblin catcher in the street going the other way, wearily -making his way home after a long night's work. He wears a tiny goblin -in a glass jar around his neck, as is the signifier of his trade. And -he carries over his shoulder a large cloth sack, the contents of -which writhe and kick. Looks like it was a productive night for our -goblin catcher! Blaven gives him a little bow and a salute, laughs, -and pats him on the back in passing, deftly transferring the bug. -"Good night for it then ey?" he calls cheerily. The goblin catcher -smiles politely, mumbles a nicety, and carries on. - -Later, hidden safely away from spying eyes and listening ears, Blaven -sits at his desk, putting the final flourishes on a missive. He sits -back and re-reads it to himself, lips moving silently. He nods and -smiles, satisfied, and reaches for a stamp to sign the letter. He -presses it into a dark red ink pad and then onto the parchment, -leaving the image of an apple and iris. He sands the paper, carefully -folds it, and places it in an envelope. - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -Note: Feel free to back up and play out some more conversation at -Lucy's before Blavin leaves if you want to. - -Options on the table: - -- To the mountains! -- To the moon! -- Something else! - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00103.html) - - diff --git a/src/epistolary/00040.md b/src/epistolary/00040.md deleted file mode 100644 index e2a9833..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00040.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,216 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00040 -created: Sun, 27 Nov 2022 01:30:42 -0700 -updated: Wed, 14 Dec 2022 05:41:15 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00040 {#00040} - -> As Blavin finished his afterthought about handing over the crystal, -> a yelp was the only warning they heard before a young waiter was -> suddenly half-sprawled over the hobbit, a tray of ginger beers -> toppled from his hand and the mugs' contents splashed onto the -> hobbit's front, though fortunately some of it ended up in a large -> puddle on the ground rather than on Blavin's person. The waiter had -> tripped over a bag on the floor on his way to the table two over -> from theirs and was scrambling to his feet. -> -> "By Nullar's nuts, I— OH SH——!! S-s-sorry, sir! Hold on, l-lemme -> get— uh—" the waiter looked around frantically. The waitress who -> had brought their drinks rushed over with some clean dry towels, a -> few of which she handed to the other waiter, and they both -> proceeded to wipe and dab at Blavin's damp clothes amid the hapless -> waiter's babbled apologies. Under the cover of the towels, the -> waitress patted down the hobbit's vest and replaced the sheaf of -> papers she had covertly lifted from one of the vest pockets earlier -> with a beguiling smile and wink. Once the beer on the floor had -> been cleaned up (the despondent young waiter had offered to pay for -> Blavin's next two rounds of drinks) and the waiters had moved on to -> serve other customers, Inky spoke. -> -> "You don't mind that we prefer to deliver it to the Benefactor -> personally, of course," Inky piped cheerily, referring to the -> crystal. "The late wizard thought it was prudent to cover our bases -> since you're a new, untested case manager after all. Besides, a -> little delayed gratification never hurt anybody, did it?" Inky -> smiled and raised their drink. "Another toast in tribute to Master -> Corraidhín! May his courage and buoyant spirit guide us on our next -> mission!" -> -> ~ -> -> When Inky stepped out of the tavern and was a few paces away, -> someone clattered through the door and called out, "Hey! You forgot -> your takeout!" -> -> Inky turned in the direction of the voice. It was the waitress who -> had served their table earlier. She waved a brown paper bag in one -> hand. Inky gave her an embarrassed smile and said, "Thanks." As the -> bag changed hands, the waitress mouthed soundlessly, *We'll report -> any more.* She went back inside, and Inky strolled off into the -> cool night air with the bag securely tucked away next to a tea -> pouch and a more pressing question: what blend would go best with -> fried tofurkey balls? -> -> ~ -> -> *(Meanwhile)* -> -> "The BANDit and his associates had gone to the tavern." His -> assistant looked up from the scrap of paper held under a claw. -> -> Beaker heaved a sigh and rubbed the tips of one wing against his -> forehead. Surely he had better things to do than play Eye Spy over -> a bunch of crackpots, such as peer reviewing the latest draft of a -> paper on the development of Cerylidian hunting techniques for an -> upcoming issue of *The Ichnition*. But Cio seemed to think -> something may come of it and unfortunately, she was usually right -> about troublemakers. -> -> "Tell them to continue tailing from a distance," he replied with a -> distracted wave, and his assistant left the room. -> -> Anyway, if he had the spare time, he could look at more interesting -> things, like the data he had collected surrounding the -> disappearance of the time anomaly that had popped up a few weeks -> ago. It had happened gradually, and he still wasn't entirely sure -> what had caused this particular incident, but the signals picked up -> by his instruments had later faded, just like other ones before it. -> Still, it was comparatively larger than previous ones, and seemed -> to have taken slightly longer to dissipate, which meant more data -> points. -> -> He stole another glance at his Dat repositories before sighing -> again, swivelling his chair and attention back to the manuscript -> before him. Work first … then more work. - -~ - -> The party dispersed after the discussion with Blavin. Nobody had -> wanted to relinquish the crystal to him, personally Alex felt that -> was prudent, though he still wasn't sure what the point of it all -> was. The foolish hobbit had blathered on and on about their "mark" -> tactfully ignoring the real questions. And then the bug, damn it, -> the bug that chittered on about absolutely nothing for hours. It -> didn't take Alex too long to figure out why, but he clung to the -> transmission until it died out hoping he'd be mistaken. -> -> So there he sat, in the attic of his once Uncle, staring bleakly -> into a cup of dark black coffee. The desk strewn with hastily -> scratched notes pulled from the bugs feeds. At least the one that -> had tracked that nosey group had proved somewhat helpful. Turns out -> this little group has less friends than a drunk who's run up their -> tab. -> -> Still, there's no point to share any of this information. It's too -> loose, not definitive enough to action with the group. -> -> Alex begins to pen a message to an fellow operative, in hopes that -> HQ will pick it up and assign someone to the task. -> -> ``` -> <- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A -> -> OP 25120 * LOC ESPER -> -> CLEARANCE: SECRET -> PACKET ENCLOSED. YOUR EYES ONLY. -> -> REQUESTING DETAIL ON BLAVIN -> EMPLOY OF "THE BENEFACTOR" -> PERCEPTIVE, AWARE OF BUGS. -> DO NOT CONTACT, DO NOT DISRUPT -> EXTREME CAUTION IMPERATIVE. -> ``` -> -> Once penned Alex encrypts it with GPG and sends it along. These -> channels have worked well for him in the past. If Blavin wants to -> play games, then games we shall have. -> -> "I hate to do this" Alex mumbles to himself. "Normally I'd trail -> him myself, but I don't think I have much say in the matter." As it -> stands the group is dead set on gathering more of these cyrstals, -> regardless of what the danger may be, and if Alex wants to find his -> Uncle, they're his best bet in doing so. Blavin doesn't even matter -> outside of that. But if he can help the group reach their end -> faster, or force the information out of Blavin, perhaps it can come -> sooner.. -> -> Alex lets out another sigh and glances wistfully around the gloomy -> attic room. It looked just like he remembered his Uncle's office -> looking like at the College of Sysorcerery when he had taught -> there. He always was so particular. Pushing his chair away and -> grabbing his coffee he wanders to the bookshelf where a large -> steamer chest sits beside it. The bookshelf is covered in -> manuscripts, "Practical Common Lisp", "The C Programming Language -> Vol 2", "RHEL 5 Systems Administration", each one arcane and well -> worn. And the amount of volumes, sometimes it's a wonder Corraidhin -> had time to do anything other than read. -> -> "Maybe if I had been a little more studious I'd know how to help -> you.." as he pulls "A Guide to Backups and All Things Necessary" -> off of the shelf a knife falls out of the book, and clatters onto -> the floor glaring malevolently up at Alex. - -Your gondola lift finally rises above the thick layer of clouds. The -sudden flash of clear blue sky is a revelation after ascending for -nearly 60 minutes through clouds so thick you couldn't see through -the foggy windows more than three feet. Above you towers rocky, -imposing Kelsun Peak. You can just see a tiny portion of the hotel -roof through a cleft in the rocks. Below you, a frozen turbulent -ocean of clouds dotted with twisting leaning spires and spiraling -branching towers, all made out of solid cloudstuff. Handiwork of the -whimsical and industrious zephynos. - -You spot two or three of them now, leaping and diving playfully -through the clouds like dolphins, spinning the clouds like yarn, and -packing them into solid constructs. Their current project resembles a -garden of outlandish, distorted tubas, french horns, and trombones. - -The small cloud dragons are about 6 - 8 feet long including their -thick tails. They have wide faces with round lidless eyes, and always -seem to be smiling. Their heads are topped with multiple pairs of -filamented stalks. They have six short, stubby arms with long thin -fingers that they use to knead and pull clouds into solid shapes. - -They build ceaselessly and mostly for the sake of building: they have -no apparent need for the structures themselves, living as they do -floating among the clouds. On occasion they have been entreated to -build on behalf of others. And the rare floating palace or city can -still be found drifting around Basmentaria as a result. The great -city of Vay'Neddas---tethered to the ground by great chains to -Primora in the north and Agendell in the south---is one of their -greatest enduring works. - -You approach the gondola station at the base of Kelsun Peak, and exit -your cable car as it slowly rounds the bullwheel. There are two -toques---presumably meant to be operating the lifts---standing off to -the side, ignoring their responsibilities, complaining loudly to -nobody and everybody about being forced to work long hours and being -unfairly compensated. The tips of their soft, conical heads slump -forward, calling to mind revolutionaries, or smurfs. - -It is wicked cold as you step out onto the platform and the wind nips -and bites at you relentlessly. - -At the edge of the platform, foggy white steps made of firm -cloudstuff climb up around the side of the mountain peak to the -Palace Runesocesius. Once the conspicuously extravagant residence of -one of Basmentaria's most powerful politicians, it has since---after -its owner fell from public favor and was routed out---been gutted and -transformed into a luxury hotel of equally conspicuous extravagance. -It continues to be one of the highest inhabitable places on -Basmentaria. - -Two small toques at the base of the steps rush forward to meet -you---the floppy tips of their coneheads waggling side to side in -their exuberance---and introduce themselves as Confidence and Bread, -your guides. They have been instructed to guide you up to -Runesocesius where you will take posession of the Ginnarak Crystal. - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00186.html) - - - diff --git a/src/epistolary/00041.md b/src/epistolary/00041.md deleted file mode 100644 index 93068b9..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00041.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,93 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00041 -created: Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:38 -0700 -updated: Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:44 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00041 {#00041} - -> Alex grips the encoded message he received in reply to his last -> request firmly in his coat pocket. It was simple, curt, impactful. -> "Trust no one". Which begged the question, could even it be -> trusted? Was HQ compromised? His informants in danger? His allies -> and leads awash in the dark grey mist of uncertainity. Or had his -> message been intercepted, cracked, and a farsical response been -> sent in its place. Alex wasn't certain which, but the strange -> format and unusually speedy response had him on edge. -> -> This anxiety didn't boil up to the surface, not a line of worry or -> hint of the inner turbulence broke his cold blue eyes. Outwardly he -> was just as composed as ever, but between these uncertainties, the -> loss of his uncle, and now this utterly strange dagger he'd found -> amongst his uncle's belongings, he wasn't certain how long that -> composure would last. It didn't held that he felt this gnawing at -> the back of his mind, as though something was probing, attempting -> to communicate with him, somewhere between telepathy and utter -> magic, and not in any sense that Alex understood. -> -> And here he stood, a stranger amongst amidst his uncle's allies, -> and very little intention to change that situation at the moment. -> -> As the gondola touched down and the Toques rushed to greet them -> Alex jumped blithely off the ship and onto firm, but fluffy, -> ground. He cast a look around him at what appeared to be an -> ordinary port of entry, noting the crowds of people passing by. As -> the Toques arrived Alex spoke curtly to them, "Who sends you to -> greet us, and where do you wish to take us, and by what means do we -> travel?". Short, cut, information only. There's too much unnerving -> in an unknown situation like this. - -~ - -> Inky greets the toques in turn politely, then turns to the second -> toque and says, "A little bit of bread and no cheese." - -"Cheese?" Bread cocks their head looks at Inky with a touch of -embarrassment. They start patting at their pockets, presumably -looking for a morsel of cheese to share with the travelers, but -finding none. They groan miserably. Confidence butts in -apologetically, "There will be plenty of food at the hotel if you -want some! Some delicious fondue perhaps? Kelsun Peak's famous liquid -gold!" - -"Blavin Blandfoot arranged for us to meet you," Bread answers Alex. -Confidence nods enthusiastically in agreement. "But I suppose -technically the hotelier sent us." Bread points up at the sky, in the -general direction of the summit of Kelsun Peak. "We are to escort you -to Palace Runesocesius." They thumb over their shoulder in the -general direction of the stairs. "By way of the cloud steps. On -foot." - -Confidence leans in close and lowers their voice. "A Ginnarak -Crystal! I can't hardly believe it! Thought they had all been lost to -the ages. I hear it's complete dumb random luck that this one turned -up. Story is, an aetherwael beached itself on some wide zephynos -boulevard. Happens sometimes. Poor things can't distinguish between -clouds and cloudstuff. I don't blame 'em! At a distance, you and me -can't either! Anyway, this aetherwael has got a harpoon stuck in its -side. Dratted poachers. May they all fall out of the sky and be -dashed to a thousand pieces on the rocks below. But it had a harpoon -in its side and was trailing behind it a float bag tethered to the -harpoon. And you probably already guessed what was inside of it!" By -the time Confidence finishes their brief story, they are trembling -and nearly breathless with excitement. - -"Anyway," Bread interrupts their excited companion in an attempt to -restore decorum. Both of the toques have been gently herding you -toward the base of the stairs this whole time. "You know how the -zephynos are. You could give them all the coin in Basmentaria, or -something priceless like a Ginnarak Crystal, and they'd just as -quickly misplace it out of carelessness. If it's not a cloud they can -sculpt into the shape of seussomorph or the likeness of some fantasy -creature, they just don't give a fig. Luckily the hotelier caught -wind of the aetherwael and found out about the crystal before they -managed to lose it, or bury it inside of a sculpture or something -silly! He has it safe and sound in the library up at Runesocesius -now." Bread climbs the first step, his foot sinking barely a -centimeter into wispy cloud before striking the solid cloudstuff. -"Come! The hotelier will be very excited to greet you!" - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00193.html) diff --git a/src/epistolary/00042.md b/src/epistolary/00042.md deleted file mode 100644 index d61363a..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00042.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,154 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00042 -created: Sat, 17 Dec 2022 08:01:41 -0700 -updated: Sat, 17 Dec 2022 08:01:48 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00042 {#00042} - -> This seems a bit strange. Certainly Blavin has been pulling strings -> from behind the scenes the whole time, but why coordinate a special -> escort for us when there are other retrieval teams, and we've been -> less than amicable with the bloke the entire time.. Alex thinks to -> himself. -> -> *DM: I'd like to check for any signs of deceit in the toques -> demeanor or communcations with us* -> -> Confidence you said right? What would you do if I simply chose not -> to accompany you? I mean, there's a whole city around us, perhaps -> I'd prefer a drink before climbing a mountains worth of stairs. Or -> better yet, I could get back on the boat and ride to the top and -> same myself the hassle. - -Bread once again looks confused. Confidence looks surprised, caught -off guard. - - - -Confidence sputters, "Well, yes, of course. You've been traveling for -some time now, haven't you? I can assure you that the food and drink -at Runesocesius will be better than anything you can get here! But -the choice is entirely yours. Feel free to avail yourself of the -local offerings. We will wait here at the steps for you." - -Bread nods slowly, and seems to trailing behind the conversation just -a second or two. - -Their reactions seem genuine to you despite the circumstances. They -seem like a couple of low level employees of a luxury hotel earnestly -trying to follow the instructions they've been given. - -There are a couple of stalls and vendors set up around the gondola -station. Many of them serve mulled wine and hot chocolate. There is -some edible fare. Hot sandwiches and pitas. Nothing that an empanada -from Enrique's wouldn't put to shame. But they look hot and steamy, -and of great comfort to anybody who might be hungry and cold. There -are a few fire pits, next to which there are long benches with -blankets, where you might sit and warm up for a bit. - -The gondola lift ends here, and does not continue up to the mountain -any further. The cloud steps are the most common way to get up to the -peak, and to the Runesocesius. But you're pretty sure one or two of -the stalls here offers balloon rides up to the peak for thrill -seekers and for those with accessibility needs. - -> "I think you already know I'm interested in neither bread nor -> cheese, the second of which I certainly did not ask for yet you -> tried to offer in your hasty pretence." Inky smiles thinly at the -> toques. -> -> Taking out a small bag of gold coins and weighing it slowly on one -> hand to the sound of coins clinking inside the pouch, Inky -> continues, "Speak, answer our questions frankly and you will be -> rewarded. The hotelier up there need not know. Breathe a word of -> our little chat to another soul, however …" Inky's gaze cut briefly -> to four snow ravens perched atop a spiral lamp post and back, "and -> you will learn the meaning of disappearing without a trace." - -Bread looks confused. You are starting to believe it is their default -expression. "So, you *don't* want no chee---" - -"Our only desire is to help!" Confidence hastily interrupts. He -smiles pleasingly. "We are your guides! Not just physically up the -steps, but in all things here on Kelsun Peak. You have but to ask, -and if it is within our power to give it, it will be yours! We are -but humble ser---" - -And just then Confidence is also suddenly interrupted. A thundering -boom like a canon sounds from somewhere nearby, followed quickly by -an explosion somewhere up above. Snow ravens fly off in all -directions in a panic. The sound ripples through the mountaintop, -rattling the ground on which you stand. A bunch of small rocks and -two large boulders shake loose from the mountainside. Shoppers and -travelers shout and duck for cover as they are pelted by the scree. -One of the large boulder bounces clear over the station and plummets -down the side of the mountain before disappearing into the cloud -ocean below. The second one falls straight toward the platform. A -vendor selling wreaths and candles dives out of the way as his stall -is crushed by the boulder. A bench is toppled over, spilling its -blankets into the fire pit, and catches fire, quickly spreading to -another nearby stall. - -Bread looks up at the sky, confused. You see a thin line of black -smoke starting to rise up into the sky from over the ridge where the -Runesocesius lies. Confidence shouts, and you see him pointing at the -sea, where a balloonship is rising up out of the cloud bank, sailing -quickly toward you and the summit of Kelsun Peak. - -It resembles a seafaring ship, but instead of masts and sails, it has -two large, colorful, patchwork balloons that provide it lift. A large -fan on a pivot at the rear of the ship provides thrust. As you watch, -it fires a second canon---that *is* what the sound was!---nearly -straight up, arcing up and over the peak at Palace Runesocesius. - -The crew of the ship bustle around on the deck of the ship, reloading -the canons, firing the balloons, shouting, giving and following -orders. - -"Cyberplasms," groans Confidence, and Bread whimpers. Alex, that -quiet, dull, static roar that has been constantly tickling the back -of your head ever since you found that dagger seems to rise in pitch -and in tone. It conveys a sense of urgency, of warning. You can -*almost* hear a desperate voice behind the static fuzz cautioning -you, "Evil..." - -The only corporeal element of the crew are their cybernetic -enhancements. A mechanical leg. A synthetic eye. A claw, a hook, a -hand. An arm canon. Almost all of them have more than one, some as -many as 3 or 5. The cybernetic pieces of each individual crew member -are held together by plasmic energy arcs, crackling blue and green. -And surrounding the bioware and the plasmic arcs of each crew member, -like a blanket or a cocoon, is the translucent, wavering, ghostly -form of some humanoid long-dead. - -The figure standing on the deck surveying the work of the rest of the -crew---presumably the captain---has a synthetic eye rotating freely, -360 degrees in all directions, inside its skull-like head; a bulky -arm canon; and a thin robotic leg terminating in a thick boot. -Plasmic blasts arc through its core, sometimes disrupting and -glitching its ghostly body. - -The captain raises its arm canon and shouts to the crew. Its voice -carried on the breeze sounds like something otherworldly rising -slowly from the murky deep. "Fire the canon, boys! And fire up the -balloons! Drop the ballast! That crystal is *ours!*" - -It happens very quickly: the ship ascends to the summit and soon is -firing grappling hooks at it to pull themselves in and breach the -walls of the hotel. - -Bread looks at you, wide-eyed and trembling. They let loose a pitiful -wail and turn and start running up the steps. "Bread!" Confidence -yells after them. They cast a backward glance at you. "I've got to -help Bread! We've got to save the hotel!" And they give chase to -their fellow toque, bounding up the cloudstuff steps. - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00203.html) - diff --git a/src/epistolary/00043.md b/src/epistolary/00043.md deleted file mode 100644 index 7ef30c3..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00043.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,110 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00043 -created: Mon, 19 Dec 2022 08:03:20 -0700 -updated: Mon, 19 Dec 2022 08:03:25 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00043 {#00043} - -> Pirates?! Again?! Alex groans, unfortunately he's run into this crew -> of dastardly mostly cybernetic punks in the past. Nasty group back -> home, always kept the precinct busy. Not necessarily with the -> detective work, it was always a little obvious when they showed up. -> They have a flair for the dramatic. -> -> Alex shouts to Inky & Jarrod "Come on, we need to get in one of those -> balloons and fast!" he then darts off in the direction of the nearest -> abandoned balloon in the market place, not looking to see if his -> companions had followed him. -> -> *internally* I know these guys have pulled off smaller heists, they -> could just be attacking the hotel to plunder riches from its guests. -> They don't seem the likes of a retrieval team.. Then again, that -> Blavin fellow has multiple teams working for him, and he doesn't seem -> all too picky about how they get the job done, it wouldn't be -> surprising if he'd hired some brigands hoping they'd get the gems -> faster. -> -> Alex conjures up another bug, a stag beetle this time, and casts it -> away at the pirate ship. It'll probably take some time to catch up, -> but once it does we'll be able to keep an eye on the pirate's ship -> and general actions, at least within line of sight of the bug. -> -> As Alex reaches the balloon he grabs the ruby hilted dagger and cuts -> the mooring lines keeping it down, and jumps into the basket -> preparing for take off. - -You spot a balloon that has already been knocked half loose of its -mooring by the pirate attack. The basket is listing to the side and -tugging at the one remaining rope tying it down Its owner scurries -around in circles trying to secure it. - -The vertical panels of the balloon are all different colors, creating -a brilliant rainbow pattern. The large woven basket is large enough -for maybe three people. - -You leap inside, swinging the ruby hilted dagger at the remaining -mooring line. The balloon owner cries out in dismay. The basket -shifts beneath your feet as the balloon tugs it skyward. - -In the burner, a small sunspoke---a minor fire elemental---is merrily -burning away, producing a modest flame that is hot enough to lift the -balloon slowly above the market into the sky. There is a knob valve -on the side of the burner to allow more oxygen to flow in, thereby -feeding the sunspoke and encouraging it to burn more intensely and -raise the balloon higher and faster. The valve is currently only -about one third open. - -A pile of blankets in one corner of the basket---and that area of the -basket itself---is covered in blood. Somebody injured in the pirate -attack must have temporarily climbed into the basket looking for -cover? As you're about to look away, something large-ish (small for a -human, large for an animal) under the blankets shifts and moves. - -> Inky stares after Alex's sprinting figure before shrugging and -> stepping towards one of the stalls selling sandwiches bowled over -> by one of the large boulders. They place some loose change on the -> stall's wooden sign that had tipped over on the ground and pocket -> one of the sandwiches displayed inside an open chest oven. Next, -> they pick up several of the scented candles scattered on the ground -> by the crash, throwing some coins in the direction of the -> disoriented vendor before continuing at a leisurely pace up the -> steps to the hotel, taking in the balloonship and surrounding -> scenery. The members of their merry party arriving first can hold -> their own as well as the fort of a hotel. - -You do a little leisurely shopping as the vendors and other shoppers -put out fires and tend to the injured. With a couple scented candles -and a sandwich safely in your pocket, you start to climb the cloud -steps, enjoying the scenery as you go. Bread and Confidence have -quite a bit of a head start on you, and are nowhere to be seen. As -the stairway winds around the mountainside, the market and its bustle -recede from view, and soon you are quite isolated and alone. - -The majesty of creation is humbling here: the endless, roiling ocean -of cloud; the towering mountain of rock. It's as though this was the -creator's playground when they were still trying to figure out scale. -Before they quite got it right for human-sized creatures. - -About halfway up your climb, it starts raining sheets of paper. You -snatch one and read it. Some heroic fantasy about slaying demons and -facing great peril. You grab another. A bodice-ripping romance. -Another. A gourmand's food tour of Basmentaria, eating their way from -coast to coast. A murder mystery whodunnit. An aetherwael handler's -guide to interplanetary travel. How to grow your own fortified -pumpkins. On the Care and Maintenance of Fortles. The Rise and Fall -and Rise of Palace Runesocesius. Within a minute, you have fists full -of an entire library's worth of snippets and passages. - -~ - -It looks as though Alex will approach the hotel by balloon from the -non-pirate side. And Inky's approach by stair will deposit them at -the hotel entrance, roughly pirate-adjacent. - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00217.html) - - diff --git a/src/epistolary/00044.md b/src/epistolary/00044.md deleted file mode 100644 index c6396b4..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00044.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,52 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00044 -created: Tue, 20 Dec 2022 08:47:08 -0700 -updated: Tue, 20 Dec 2022 08:47:11 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00044 {#00044} - -> As Alex spots the sunspoke valve he grabs it and cranks it up to the -> 2/3 mark. "Sorry little friend, we're going to need a little bit more -> juice". The baloon lurches upwards as air rushes in feeding the -> sunspoke, causing it to burn more intensely. After setting the -> sunspoke ablaze and shouting back to the balloon's owner Alex takes -> account of his surroundings. It's during this time he spots the -> bloodied, moving blankets. They seem to writhe, as though something -> beneath them is injured. -> -> Gripping the dagger firmly in one hand Alex grabs the blankets from -> the corner of the balloon basket revealing whatever lay beneath. - -The sunspoke stretches its little arms and wriggles its little -fingers. It sighs happily, luxuriating in the extra fuel. It burns -twice as bright, shooting a hot jet of bright yellow flame up into -the parachute. The sunspoke starts to glow a molten red, and you -start to rise faster. - -As you rise up over the peak, you can finally spot the Runesocesius. -The grand hotel is draped over the top of the mountain, clinging to -it like a dragon resting on its hoard. - -The "cyberplasms" as Confidence called them have docked to the side -of a tower on the other side of the peak from you. They have shot a -large hole in the side of the tower, and you can see them now -starting to zipline into the building. A thick plume of black smoke -billows out of the side of the tower, carrying pages and pages of -loose paper into the air with it. They rain down like snow. The tower -must house an extensive library. - -You cautiously pull back a corner of the bloody blankets, jeweled -dagger raised and ready to strike. You reveal a small bloody furry -blob. You see two big round eyes, a short-snouted face, and enormous -pointed ears. It quickly looks away from you, chirps pathetically, -and trembles as it cowers in place. You have found a frightened -hemogoblin stowaway! - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00219.html) - - - diff --git a/src/epistolary/00045.md b/src/epistolary/00045.md deleted file mode 100644 index 69b6481..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00045.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,94 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00045 -created: Tue, 20 Dec 2022 10:15:23 -0700 -updated: Thu, 22 Dec 2022 09:29:11 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00045 {#00045} - -> As the blankets draw back from the bloody mass, a cute little -> hemogoblin appears. "Aww little fellas just scared." Alex lowers -> the dagger, but otherwise ignores the hemogoblin. Best to leave it -> be for now, there's more important things. -> -> As the balloon gets within range of the ship Alex begins to scan -> the deck for Cyberplasms. At the same time he checks his bug to -> track the location of the cyberplasms more acutely. It looks like -> there may be an opporunity to jump from the balloon to the ship. -> After that cutting the zip lines would give me the opporunity to -> steal the ship, leaving the cyberplasms trapped at the top of the -> hotel. - -Just a few Cyberplasms remain on the deck of the airship. The vast -majority of them have zipped into the hotel tower. - -You check your bug's feed. It has gone almost entirely unnoticed in -the fracas, and you are able to piece together a clear picture of the -inside of the tower. It is indeed a grand library, its galleries -spanning each floor of the tower. One of the largest collections in -all of Basmentaria. - -The Cyberplasms have breached the tower near its base and are pouring -into the Great Hall. You tune in just in time to see a rail-thin, -bald and mustachioed man standing defensively in front of a display -case. "No! You can't!" he exclaims as a disembodied sickle approaches -him in a cloud of electricity and ectoplasm. - -Behind the glass in the display case is a bluish hunk of rock the -size of a melon, with gently pulsing gold veins. - -> Inky puts away the papers they caught in passing or picked up along -> the path up to read later, including a number that from a cursory -> glance appear to be from a culinary collection and a few from some -> moth-eaten but finely illustrated botanical tome, among others. -> -> Eventually arriving at the hotel entrance, Inky enters and manages -> to catch a frantic-looking attendant near the reception to ask the -> whereabouts of the hotelier, indicating they had a business -> appointment with said manager. - -You walk in through the hotel's main entrance. The grandeur would -take your breath away were it not for the shouting and the smoke and -the explosions coming from down the hall to your right. - -You wave down a passing hotel clerk and inquire after the hotelier. -They are hauling a large bucket of hot water, and carrying an -oversized bundle of clean towels under one arm. They pause for a -moment to look at you incredulously before running off in the -opposite direction. - -A cry rings out nearby and a Cyberplasm flies through an open door -down the hallway. It lands in a heap of crackling energy, smears of -ectoplasm streaking the floor as though it were bleeding heavily. It -seems to be barely held together by the energy stored in its -cybernetic leg and a metal skull plate. - -It scoots backwards on its hands and its butt, trying to stand up. -Two toques leap out of the door after it. You recognize Bread and -Confidence right away. - -Bread has obviously been to the kitchens. They are wearing tin baking -sheets and an oversized pot on their heard as makeshift armor, and -have a couple of dangerous looking kitchen knives hanging from their -belt. At the moment they are swinging a large meat tenderizer over -their head as though it were a war hammer. - -Confidence, meanwhile, has been to the gardener's shed. They are -wearing a heavy leather apron and thick leather gloves, and have a -trowel in each hand, and a large hoe or rake strapped to their back. - -Bread lowers their hammer on Cyberplasms head, denting the skull -plate. And Confidence darts in and stabs with both hands at the leg. -As soon as the prosthetics go offline and the plasmic arcs cease -firing, there is nothing left holding the ectoplasm together and the -ghost kind of dissipates into the air with a soft wail. - -They look up and notice you at the same time, relaxing their -offensive stances. "Oh!" cries Bread. "It's you!" - -"You don't happen," asks Confidence, "to need a guide, do you?" - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00227.html) diff --git a/src/epistolary/00046.md b/src/epistolary/00046.md deleted file mode 100644 index 9fa7f6b..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00046.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,146 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00046 -created: Thu, 22 Dec 2022 12:36:07 -0700 -updated: Thu, 22 Dec 2022 12:36:10 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00046 {#00046} - -> Ah so I suppose those Toques were being honest then, there was a -> Ginnarak crystal, and I guess they were going to give it to us.. oh -> well, nothing good in life comes easy. -> -> Alex cranks the dial on the sunspoke, grabs the hemogoblin from the -> basket, and jumps out of the balloon and onto the deck of the ship. -> He rushes over to the nearest pile of bundled rope and barrels and -> stows his new hemo friend. "Just stay hidden little guy, let me -> take care of these pirates first." -> -> Alex grabs the dagger from his side as he makes his way towards the -> side of the ship, first thing first, best to cut the mooring lines -> and zip lines. The static clawing sensation appears at the back of -> Alex's mind, but he attempts to ignore it. There's too much that -> needs to be done too quickly, and he's all too aware of the danger -> he's put himself in. "What would Corraidhin do.." Alex thinks to -> himself, "perhaps a spell?". -> -> ```lua -> function target:new(obj, tbl) -> obj = obj or {} -> setmetatable(obj, self) -> self.__index = self -> self.x = 0 -> self.y = 0 -> self.speed = 0 -> reutrn obj -> end -> -> function target:yeet() -> self.x = 100 -> self.y = 100 -> self.speed = 50 -> return self -> end -> ``` -> -> After preparing the spell Alex makes his way towards the guard rail -> ready to cut the mooring and zip lines, spell at the ready should -> an enemy appear. - -You crank the dial to 11. The sunspoke squeals in delight and burns -like a tiny star. You grab the hemogoblin, who chirrups and clings -tightly to you, and leap from the balloon onto the deck of the -airship. - -You think you can hear---barely audible---the sunspoke singing a song -of homecoming as the hot air balloon continues to rise unpiloted up -toward the sun. - -You rush over to cover behind a barrel, and deposit your new -hemogoblin friend safely inside the center of a large coil of rope. -It looks up at you quizzically, but nods when you tell it to stay -put. - -You invoke the powers of the moon and prepare a quick but (hopefully) -sufficient Spell of Yeeting. - - - -When you draw the dagger, the world develops a faint static -background noise which is easy enough to ignore at the moment given -the state of things. You dash forward and start sawing at the thick -mooring lines. The dagger's ruby hilt flashes in the sunlight as you -work, and in your mind's eye you see a bright red wine, and a drop of -blood red ink flowing from the nib of a fountain pen. - -You shake the images from your head just as you finish sawing through -the rope. A Cyberplasm who was shimmying back up the rope from the -hotel to the ship yelps as the line goes slack and swings back into -the side of the cliff. The pirate rebounds from the impact, bounces -off the mountainside a few times, and falls from view as it -disappears through the clouds below. - -The ship drifts lazily, rising slightly, and despite your best -sneaking around, the remaining Cyberplasms on board cannot help but -notice that the ship is no longer tethered. You successfully hide -behind a barrel as three cyber ghost pirates come rushing over to the -ship railing and lean over, looking below at where there are no -longer any ropes attaching the ship to the hotel. - -Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the hemogoblin toddling -across the deck toward the Cyberplasms, no doubt curious about what -they're looking at over the side of the ship. - -> "Indeed, Bread, it's me. You have not yet escaped your fate of -> untraceable disappearance just yet." Inky deadpans, then smiles. -> "We have much to discuss, but later. I do need a guide … to your -> hotelier. Presumably I will find them by following the racket and -> trail of ruined decor, but maybe you know of a quicker route?" - -Bread smiles at the threat of being untraceably disappeared, mostly -confident that they are on the inside of a private little joke and -that they are presently in no actual danger from Inky. They grip -their hammer a little tighter nonetheless. - -Confidence slips their trowels into their apron. "Yes, this way!" - -They hurry down the hall. You know you're going the right way because -tattered, torn, charred books litter the ground in increasing -numbers. Bits of paper and ash fall like snow. - -Confidence guides you away from the entrance to the library's Great -Hall, and takes you instead to a smaller, more discreet staff -entrance. They open the door a crack, and as you look through you are -just in time to see the ship captain with their cybernetic leg, arm -canon, and eye. Now that the crew have cleared the way for them, they -stroll across the library over piles of fallen, damaged books. - -A thin bald man with a neatly trimmed mustache is on the other side -of the hall, his back turned to the pirate. He wears a fine suit and -has just finished unlocking a glass display case. He retrieves a -multifaceted blue and gold stone and hugs it to his chest with both -arms. He throws a panicked glance over his shoulder at the slowly -approaching pirate, and turns to run away. His retreat is halted by a -small explosion at his feet. He skids to a stop and looks back at the -pirate, who is lowering their arm canon. - -"The crystal," the captain demands in a voice part ghostly moan, part -mechanical drone. "Hand it over, hotelier." It steps closer. "Mother -has promised us new bodies if we deliver the quintessence. You won't -be permitted to stand in our way." - -One pirate near the breach tucks a couple volumes of manhwa under its -arm and climbs out onto the mooring line, returning to the ship with -its plunder. It howls as the line suddenly goes slack, flinging the -pirate and its comics into the mountainside, and then out into space. - -Sunlight pours into the library from outside as the shadow of the -airship shifts as it starts to drift, suddenly unmoored. - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00231.html) diff --git a/src/epistolary/00047.md b/src/epistolary/00047.md deleted file mode 100644 index ce123e4..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00047.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,116 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00047 -created: Thu, 22 Dec 2022 16:51:54 -0700 -updated: Thu, 22 Dec 2022 16:51:59 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00047 {#00047} - -> Damn it! I should've left the little goblin in the balloon, this -> could get tricky.. -> -> Time slows for just the briefest of moments while Alex calculates -> his next move. Looking at the position of the pirates he can -> probably yeet the middlemost one away from the group into the left -> most pirate. Best case this sends both of them sailing over the -> edge of the ship, worst case it just slightly knocks them off -> balance. In either event this gives me enough time to dart from -> cover and quickly dispatch the right most pirate with Uncle's -> dagger. I've got to sever each connection point between the -> ecotplasm and the cybernetics, nothing quite as quick and easy as -> flesh and blood, but a quick slice to the left most armpit, and -> another to the right most leg right above the carotid artery should -> do it.. -> -> Jumping immediately to action Alex casts `yeet.middle_cyberplasm()` -> sending the middle pirate into the left most pirate away from the -> hemogoblin while he dashes forward to take the third right most -> pirate by surprise. As he reaches the right most pirate he makes -> two quick slices, first at the leg, followed by a quick upper cut -> to the left arm. - - - -You channel some of the ambient environmental charge into your -prepared incantation. It's comforting sometimes to peer behind the -veil and see the world through this lens. It's so simple. The -separation of self and other is an illusion: everything is just a -table. The concept of time itself is simplified: coroutines prevent -everything from happening all at once and create the illusion of -concurrency. It's all really quite elegant. - -Anyway so the hemogoblin sidles up next to the pirates at the -railing. It's not tall enough to see over the railing, and starts to -kind of jump up and down, trying to catch a glimpse. The pirates look -down at it in confusion just as the `yeet` happens, and they knock -into each other. The leftmost one almost manages to regain its -balance but then trips over the little blood gremlin and pitches over -the railing. The middle pirate yelps as the startled hemogoblin darts -between its legs to get out of the way. The pirate stumbles and then -slips in a small puddle of blood. Its feet shoot from beneath it and -it too tips over the railing. - - - -The hemogoblin dashes right into the waiting arms of the rightmost -Cyberplasm. "Gotcha, you little ... ugh! What ..." The pirate is -starting to regret snatching up the little furball, which is -defensively gushing blood all over it, when you make your first slice -into its left armpit. Half its cybernetics go offline. One arm goes -limp and it drops the hemogoblin, which scurries around and hides -behind you. The pirate turns toward you, now full of regrets, and you -stab into its right leg, knocking its tech completely offline and -dispersing the ghostly energies. - -As far as you can tell, the ship is now free of Cyberplasms. - -The hemogoblin thrusts its tiny fists in the air and cheers. - -> Inky shakes out several large and very fine kerchiefs, handing two -> each to the guides and gestures for them to cover their noses and -> mouths with them while they perform the action themselves to -> demonstrate. -> -> Donning a pair of skydiving goggles snatched from one of the souvenir -> stalls at the gondola station while no one was looking (replacing it -> with its approximate weight in silver coins), Inky retrieves a black -> metal box that previously served as a portable camp stove from their -> knapsack and removes the lid. The inside of the box is filled with -> dry wood chips mixed with a pine green powder, and Inky throws in the -> wicks pulled from some of the scented candles that were pushed into a -> heater flask to melt fully during the walk up the hotel steps. -> Finally, Inky pours another vial of foul-smelling liquid over the -> contents, opens the door just wide enough to slide the metal box -> through to one side of the door a few paces away. -> -> A mildly sweet, cloying smoke emanates from the flameless heat inside -> the box, which begin to fill the library hall with a rapidly -> thickening cloud. It is also taking on an acrid and slightly sooty -> edge. Near the door, Inky fans more of the smoke in the direction of -> the cyberplasmic apparition with a thin bound manuscript laying on -> the floor. - -Bread, Confidence, and you all don protective gear. You push the camp -stove through the door like an Olympic curler. It glides across the -library floor a respectable distance considering the book debris and -the lack of sweepers. Much more quickly than one would think -possible, the hall is filled with a thick, sooty smoke. The -Cyberplasm captain groans with frustration as even the short distance -between it and the hotelier (and the crystal) becomes occluded in the -smoke screen. The hotelier wisely doesn't make a sound as he -disappears from view. - -Bread nudges you, grins, and gives you a thumbs up. - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00234.html) diff --git a/src/epistolary/00048.md b/src/epistolary/00048.md deleted file mode 100644 index 6687335..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00048.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,246 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00048 -created: Wed, 28 Dec 2022 16:08:10 -0700 -updated: Wed, 28 Dec 2022 16:08:12 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00048 {#00048} - -> Alex snatches up his new hemo friend cheering huzzah as he does. -> We've got a pirate ship little guy! -> -> Rushing about the deck Alex quickly takes stock of what's left, -> plenty of ammo, general supplies, fuel, perfectly provisioned for a -> quick crystal kidnapping. Smart move pirates, but not smart enough. -> -> Alex heads to the helm and steadies the ship guiding it out and -> away from the library, can't have any of the remaining cyberplasms -> easily reboarding it now can we? Once the ship is out of range Alex -> checks his S.T.A.G drone's twtxt feed for updates. -> -> ``` -> @ Cyberplasm approaching crystal -> @ approx library, top level -> @ Cyberplasm threatens violence -> @ Inky, bread, confidence enter subvertly -> @ Visual feed impaired due to unknown smog -> @ Angry tones, uncertain who -> ``` -> -> Not particularly helpful, and it rules out my first thought. I -> could blindly fire the broadside canons into the library hoping to -> hit the cyberplasm, but I'd be just as likely to hit Inky, Bread, -> Confidence or any other innocent bystander. I've got to get a -> message to her. -> -> Alex quickly dispatches a command to the S.T.A.G -> -> ``` -> @ Seek Inky -> @ Secured ship, inform A.I of intentions, will coordinate rescue via the stolen ship -> ``` -> -> If all we've got is this, then we'd best be ready for a quick -> rescue. Alex busies himself preparing a new zipline and mooring -> lines. He then loads the boradside canons and the top deck swivel -> canons. It'll need to be quick, but if I'm ready I can swing the -> ship in close, deploy a zipline for Inky to zip down to the ship -> with, and defend the retreat with the swivels. If everyone retreats -> to the ship we can take a note from the pirates playbook and blast -> them to hell with the broadsides while we make our retreat. Or -> simply run I suppose, but I dislike the idea of leaving innocent -> people to deal with angry pirates - -The hemogoblin cheers you on as you take possession of the airship, -accidentally squirting a few jets of rust colored blood in its -excitement. Must still be quite young. They don't gain full control -of their blood sacs until well into adulthood. - -You check your S.T.A.G. drone's twtxt feeds. This A.I. seems -especially reliable, you note with satisfaction. Its updates are -regular and detailed. Even when there's not much to report. - -You load up the canons and take control of the helm. The hemogoblin -stands at attention at the broadside canons with a cracklesparkler, -ready to light the fuse at your command. You steer the ship a short -distance away from the hotel, hopefully out of reach of the -cyberplasms. But within range of your own canons and ziplines. - -> While Inky has the attention of both guides, they close the door -> again until it is slightly ajar, and make a series of hand -> gestures. First pointing at themselves, at their own forearm and -> fist held stiffly to mimic the shape of the captain's arm cannon, -> to indicate that Inky will handle the Cyberplasm. Then Inky points -> the two fingers of a hand at Bread and Confidence, turns the two -> fingers downward and swings them back and forth in opposite -> directions to convey walking. This was followed by a single finger -> pointing in the general direction they had last seen the hotelier; -> then the finger hooks inward, the arm repeating a yanking motion -> once or twice before ending the gesture with a thumb tossed over -> their shoulder towards the hallway away from the staff entrance, to -> ask them to get their boss out of the library to a safe spot. -> -> Without waiting for confirmation from the toques, Inky opens the -> door, abruptly stops, turns and shoves a compostable bag of -> mango-flavoured croutons at Bread, gives them a thumbs up in return -> and a mildly disturbing, eye-crinkling smile behind their kerchief, -> before slipping inside the smoky room. One hand is already pulling -> out a thin, extendable metal walking pole with a carrying strap -> visually resembling the type used by hikers from their courier bag -> to check for obstacles amid the lowered visibility. - -Confidence watches all of your hand gestures closely, and then nods -resolutely. They draw their large hoe, and turn and start to crouch -run toward the main entrance to to the main hall of the library. - -Bread looks confused, but ready to follow Confidence. They grab their -heavy meat tenderizer and crouch down in imitation of their fellow -toque. Before they can run off, you shove a bag of croutons into -their arms. "Small. Toasted. Bread," they intonate slowly in wonder. -The confusion falls from their face as they break into a wide grin. -"Now I'll never disappear without a trace," they laugh. They thank -you and run like a duck after Confidence. - -> Inside, Inky lobs the empty glass vial that had held the -> unpleasantly pungent organic catalyst at a spot the floor several -> paces roughly from where the Cyberplasm — presumably the leader of -> the group — had been standing earlier, in the opposite direction of -> the staff entrance in an attempt to divert attention from the -> hotelier's last location. As they edge along the wall towards the -> tower stairs, walking pole looped over one hand, Inky grabs a few -> small hardcover novellas from a wall shelf. Straightening from -> their crouch, Inky tosses them one at a time horizontally in quick -> succession like a discus, but without the full-body turning motion, -> across the hall towards the sounds of frustrated groans and angry -> muttering. The first starting higher around where a human head -> might have once been, one at waist height and another at the -> juncture below where ectoplasmic knees might meet prosthetic legs. - -You pick up three hardback novellas. If it wasn't so smoky, and if -you weren't so much in the middle of a potentially life and death -struggle with the Cyberplasm captain of a pirate airship, you might -notice their titles: *Stop and Smell the Crystals*, *Living the -Corn*, and *A Big Moon*. - - - -Anyway, you start flinging. - - - -After you toss the catalyst, you can see a plasmic form heavily -blurred and obscured by the smoke turn in that direction. You fling -*Stop and Smell the Crystals* at it, and it spins like a discus and -smashes into the pirate right in the face, above the chin. It howls -and brings its hand to its face, and turns and charges up its arm -cannon. - - - -Mostly going on sound now, you fling *Living the Corn* at the -pirate's moan and at the electric whine of the canon charging. You -hear the canon discharge but the half-blind pirate fires wide. You -see the flash of the energy blast hitting something, someone, else -obscured by smoke in the middle distance between the two of you. A -man screams out in pain. Right after the muffled thump of his body -hitting the ground, you hear the clinking and ringing of something -heavy and metallic striking and rolling across the floor. - -*Living on Corn* strikes the pirate in the elbow, and with a fizzle -and a spark, the arm cannon sputters offline. - - - -The pirate stumbles forward, half-lame and half-blind. It stoops and -scoops up a heavy melon-sized object. It stomps its cybernetic boot, -and small rockets spring out from small compartments on either side -of its ankle. They start to fire up and the pirate is about to make -its escape when *A Big Moon* hits it right above knee and severs the -ghost's final connection to its final enhancement. - -It groans as it starts to dissipate, dropping the heavy object once -more. - -"My crew, it is too late for me! I shall never have a new body now! -But it's not too late for you! You must bring the quintessence to -Mother!" - -And then the pirate's essence is diluted in the smoke filling the -library. - -> At that moment Inky hears a very low whirring accompanied by -> clicking sounds behind them and without glancing backwards, swings -> the walking pole at the source of the buzzing. The stick collides -> with something, sending it careening backwards with a light clatter -> through what is likely a row of bookshelves around the area already -> partially emptied of their contents. From the static noise that -> ensues, Inky realises whatever it was may or may not have been one -> of the wizard's bugs hovering in the shadows earlier or a -> disembodied, ectoplasm-spewing prosthetic limb after all. Inky -> calls out sheepishly, "Sorry, Young Master Alex! Was that yours? -> Oops? Haha?" before smashing two more empty glass bottles as a -> distraction for any remaining Cyberplasms lurking on the same -> floor, and sprints up the tower stairs, using the banisters as a -> guide. - -The Amber Imp is feverishly reporting all the goings on from inside -the S.T.A.G. drone when Inky strikes its conveyance with their -walking pole. The bug is destroyed on contact. The imp barely manages -to fire off one final End Of Transmission post before ejecting from -the craft, which sinks below like an exploded firework. It drifts on -the currents of smoke and flows out through the hole in the wall into -the open air outside. The imp falls through open space and starts to -think back on its life. So much time and energy spent chasing its -hopes and dreams, its goals and aspirations. So much of its life -wasted in pursuit. Always reaching, never grasping. Is that all it -gets? Is this the end? Did it ever really even get a chance to really -live? - -These thoughts race through its head as it falls, but are cut short -when it abruptly lands on a hard bed of cloudstuff. It tumbles and -rolls and comes to a stop. And when it looks up, amazed to be alive -and vowing to make the most of this second chance at life, it looks -up into the benevolent smiling face of a pink zephynos. - -~ - -Inky, you cross the floor to where the pirate had its last stand. You -find what appears to be approximately one-fifth of the hotelier, and -wonder idly where the rest of him might be. And you notice a -conspicuous lack of Ginnarak Crystal. - -You do however notice a soft crunch underfoot. And when you bend down -to inspect it---disorganized cyberplasms running amok in the smoke -behind you---you discover a trail of mango flavored croutons leading -across the hall to the tower stairs. - -You sprint up the stairs using the banisters as a guide. The -breadcrumb trail ends on the seventh level, where Confidence sits -slumped against the wall between two bookshelves. They have one arm -around four-fifths of the hotelier, his shocked gaze telling you -everything you need to know, that he is entirely dead but just -doesn't know it yet. Their other arm is around Bread, who has -suffered a massive wound to the chest and is only slightly more alive -than the hotelier. On the ground between Confidence's legs is the -Ginnarak Crystal. Several loose pages are stuck to its sides, held in -place by drying blood and ectoplasm. - -Confidence looks at you and smiles wearily. "We left a trail for you. -It was Bread's idea. They were a good guide." - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00250.html) diff --git a/src/epistolary/00049.md b/src/epistolary/00049.md deleted file mode 100644 index 05d6c33..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00049.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,156 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00049 -created: Thu, 29 Dec 2022 18:55:34 -0700 -updated: Fri, 30 Dec 2022 08:12:55 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00049 {#00049} - -> "They *are* a good guide," Inky corrects adamantly. "Do you hear -> that, Bread? You're not allowed to disappear until you've had an -> entire bag of these croutons, and even then you're still not -> allowed. If I'd known you'd never had croutons before I wouldn't -> have let you walk a step further into that hall. That was -> simultaneously the worst and best idea ever. Mango! Croutons! What -> a travesty. Did you even taste any of it? No? You have to! How can -> you offer guests delicious fondue without croutons? Speaking of -> which, we haven't gotten that fondue you promised yet, that's -> reason #144 you can't disappear. What's reason #143? Crostinis. -> Small toasted bread. Slice of life. You can put cheese on it too, -> if you really must …" -> -> And so on. While Inky talks at Bread in a bid to keep them -> conscious, they whisk out a first-aid kit from their courier bag -> and kneeling on the floor, proceeds to stem the bleeding from the -> chest wound with coagulant-coated bandages. Slowly, they tip a -> flask of tea infused with some restorative herbs down Bread's open -> mouth, careful not to pour too quickly. Inky pauses mid-diatribe -> and mid-pour to thrust another flask of tea into Confidence's hand, -> the one wrapped four-fifths of the hotelier and ask, "Are you -> injured? Please keep an eye on your companion, I will summon for -> assistance." -> -> Standing up, Inky walks to a window, opens it and peers out. They -> look around for a hot air balloon and notice the unmoored airship. -> After squinting at it with a mini-spyglass, they see Alex standing -> at the helm of the ship with a young hemogoblin on board. Inky -> waves, and makes a vertical cross sign with a fist and thumb on the -> opposite upper arm a few times. Next, they pull out a small tin -> whistle, and toot a few sharp notes in the same cadence as the -> one-liner directed at Bread earlier by the gondola station. After a -> moment, a scops owl swoops in to land on the windowsill. Inky -> inserts a rolled piece of paper into a small pouch hanging at the -> bird's back, and the bird flies off again. -> -> Returning to the figures slumped against the wall, Inky places the -> Ginnarak crystal in a lightly padded cloth bag, stowing it away in -> their knapsack-style backpack. They resume checking and tending to -> the toques' injuries, while expounding upon various permutations of -> toasted bread to a captive audience. - -Bread closes their eyes and smiles dreamily at the descriptions of -various breads. They weakly sip the tea as you tip it into their -mouth and swallow with effort. - - - -They sigh and open their eyes. They focus on you and maintain eye -contact as you draw from a seemingly bottomless well of knowledge on -the topic of toasted breads. Bread and life are clinging fast to each -other, neither ready or willing to let go of the other. They are -going to be okay. - -Confidence's wounds are superficial. They are winded from dragging -Bread and the hotelier up seven flights of stairs. But they are fine. - -The hotelier's wounds are sadly quite fatal. Honestly it was all over -for him the moment he took the full force of the captain's plasma -canon to his chest. He babbles, "It's not ... I wasn't ..." And then -with sudden realization and quiet resignation, a clear-eyed, "Oh." -And then he is gone. - -His courage in the face of danger is the reason you now have the -third of the five Ginnarak Crystals in your pack. Whether or not his -death was in vain is now largely up to you and what you decide to do -with the crystal. - -~ - -Downstairs in the Great Hall of the library, one of the remaining -Cyberplasms crouches down next to the inert cybernetic eye that until -very recently belonged to their captain. They pick it up and turn it -over in their hand. "Worry not, my captain," the ghost mourns. "We -will find the quintessence. And once we do, we will be made anew in -the forge of our Mother." - -He rolls the orb in palm of his hand. A faint arc of energy crackles -across its surface. And the eye rolls over of its own volition and -looks up at the pirate. - -Suddenly reverent, the pirate gently places the eye on the ground as -a ghostly face begins to form around it. The pirate waits patiently, -attentively. It's not every day one gets to bare witness to a new -birth. The ectoplasm that gathers around the eye forms a rail-thin -body. Its head is bald and its face sports a neatly trimmed mustache. -It is missing an arm and a leg. - -Dutifully, the witness fetches a recently discarded arm canon and leg -booster. The exotica tap into the energy provided by a new crossing -over, and come online, and create a new mesh. - -The hotelier stands and looks down at its new body. As it were. It -looks around at its surroundings. It picks up a few books and starts -shelving them. - -The pirate, mostly wishing to provide companionship and comfort to -the new ghost, assists with tidying up. - -~ - -Alex, you are at the helm of the balloon-ship. As you start to drift -slightly up and away, the blue dome of the hotel comes into view. On -its peak you can see a life-sized statue of a stern-faced -Runesocesius wielding a spear, drawn back as though ready to hurl an -angry thunderbolt down at the world below. - -The hemogoblin is still down on the deck by the canons. You see it -waving cheerily at the library tower. You squint in that direction, -but can't see what has caught its attention. - -A small tufted-ear owl silently lands next to you breaking you from -your reverie. The owl is wearing a small harness with a pouch at the -back. Inside the pouch is a rolled piece of paper signed by Inky, up -on the seventh floor of the tower. - -You count seven windows up the side of the tower from its base. There -seems to be some movement inside, but you can't make much out from -here. With a lucky shot, you think you might be able to hook the -window frame with a zipline. - -~ - -Outside, a pink zephynos is spinning raw cloud into a minuscule opera -house and performing arts center under the direction of an amber imp -with a new hunger for life. It is an organic looking structure: a -primary concert hall, surrounded by a number of smaller stages and -performance areas spiraling out from the center like a nautilus -shell. - -The imp smiles happily, proudly. What tales will be told here! What -songs will be sung! "Lorehold," it whispers to itself. "You will tell -the world's stories." - -It is already trying out lines in its head, imagining the play it -will write of this day. About the hotel and the library and the -pirates and the cloud dragons. About a pair of adventurers. And a -very brave and lucky drone pilot that dared to chase its dreams. - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00252.html) - diff --git a/src/epistolary/00050.md b/src/epistolary/00050.md deleted file mode 100644 index e21736f..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00050.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,63 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00050 -created: Sat, 31 Dec 2022 10:33:06 -0700 -updated: Sat, 31 Dec 2022 10:33:07 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00050 {#00050} - -> Meta: I look forward to reading the A.I.'s play once it's written, -> we should go back and write the sequence of events for this segment -> from their perspective in play form at some point. -> -> Alex gingerly takes the note from the owl and reads it quickly. "I -> guess my S.T.A.G. got to Inky after all." Eyeing the tower and -> cutting up the windows, it looks like maybe I'd get a shot in from -> the zip line. But it's iffy. -> -> Alex grabs the wheel and guides the balloonship slowly up a few -> levels. From that vantage point it should only be 3-4 levels -> between the ship and I. -> -> After getting the ship in place he grabs a zip line canon and -> launches it at one of the windows on the 7th floor, sinking the -> anchor firmly beneath the window. -> -> Now to signal Inky... Alex rummages around the ship, finding both a -> signal flare gun and flares in the cargo hold, at least the pirates -> were prepared for the worst. Taking aim away from the Balloon -> Sails, Alex fires the flare up into the air creating a dazingly and -> bright signal in the sky. - -You fire the zipline and the hemogoblin cheers adorably. The spear -pierces the stone right beneath the 7th floor window, and the hooks -extend and foam, cementing the line in place. - -In a locker on the side of the ship you find a few signal flares. You -point them away from the balloons and fire into the sky. The flares -explode brilliantly and hang dazzling in the sky before slowly -drifting downward. - -A pair of zephynos swim over, attracted by the brilliant sparkling -lights. They excitedly bat at the air with their hands and turn -somersaults. They pull at some clouds and squeeze them into dozens of -abstract forms inspired by the bursts. They toss them back and forth -playfully and soon the boulders are drifting around listlessly -overhead. - -Below, almost all of the Cyberplasms have noticed by now that their -ship has been stolen. Several crowd into the hole in the wall and -shout and shake their fists at you. - -You hear a low chirrup behind you and turn to see the hemogoblin -standing in the middle of the deck. Somehow in all the commotion it -has managed to get its tiny little hands on the ruby-hilted dagger. -It grips the hilt tightly in both hands and gazes in wide-eyed wonder -at the gem, utterly captivated, back turned to the fireworks. The -hemogoblin and the blade are absolutely dripping with rivers of -blood. A decent sized pool has already formed at its feet. - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00257.html) diff --git a/src/epistolary/00051.md b/src/epistolary/00051.md deleted file mode 100644 index 6675912..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00051.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,117 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00051 -created: Sat, 31 Dec 2022 17:08:07 -0700 -updated: Sat, 31 Dec 2022 17:08:07 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00051 {#00051} - -> As they wait for the balloonship to approach, Inky glances to the -> prone remains of the hotelier on the floor and frowns. There wasn't -> much they could do about that now. It was really inconvenient -> timing — he hadn't received the papers yet. Inky can already -> picture Cio's unspoken but palpable disappointment even as she -> offered reassurances that it was perfectly fine. The gnawing guilt -> she could inflict with a look was worse than a tenacious terrorier -> with a bone biscuit. Then Inky recalls an urban legend from the -> elderly aunts they sometimes pass by during teatimes, which claim -> that it was possible to send messages and items to the deceased by -> burning the articles. -> -> Ducking momentarily behind another bookshelf, Inky removes an -> envelope bearing the seal of a butterfly in red wax, drops it into -> a recently-emptied shortbread tin and holds a lit match to a corner -> of the paper. Before long the entire envelope is consumed by the -> flames and the lid replaced tightly over the tin. If the paperwork -> found its way to the hotelier on the spiritual plane, that would be -> the formalities completed. Or if it was reduced to ashes without -> ever reaching the recipient, no one had to know. -> -> Inky walks back to the window to see a flare light and a zip line -> ending below the windowsill. They look to the other end of the -> line, back to the toques, and around the room. Their gaze lands on -> a few cloth covers draped over several bookshelves near an alcove -> from top to bottom, possibly to protect the manuscripts on the -> shelves from extended exposure to dust and light. They tie a large -> red kerchief to the zip line to indicate they had seen flare -> signal, before turning to Confidence. "There's an airship waiting -> outside with a zip line. We should get Bread patched up by a healer -> in town. It wouldn't do to have them walk around like that, unless -> you want to turn the hotel into a haunted house attraction." -> -> As they finish speaking, Inky pulls off three of the covers, two -> iron spears and one of the two decorative flag poles with flags -> featuring the crest of Runesocesius, and a symbol (of the old town, -> Inky surmises) that stood in a nook between the wall and a -> bookshelf. Crossing over to a wall display of ceremonial chains and -> maces, they remove two of the metal chains that hung on from hooks -> on the wall. Having gathered the items, they retrieve two zip line -> harnesses, some parachute cord and two additional pulley hooks from -> their bag. -> -> They lay the chains on the floor about two feet apart, followed by -> the cloth sheets with their outer surfaces facing down over them, -> and tie the corners at both ends to the flag pole to form the base -> of a makeshift hammock. With Confidence's help, they slide Bread -> onto the sheets, being cautious to avoid further jostling the -> toque's injuries. Inky wraps the ends of the chains around the -> flagpole, tying them and the cloth bundle with loops of parachute -> cord, and sets the pulley hooks to links on the top surface of the -> flag pole. -> -> Inky puts on a zip line harness and throws the spare one to -> Confidence, directing them to do the same. With some difficulty, -> they hoist the bundle of Bread to the window. Inky descends first, -> hooking their harness pulley to the zip line as they brace against -> the tower wall. As the bundle is slowly lowered through the window, -> Inky connects the pulley hooks on the metal chains to the zip line, -> Confidence bringing up the rear while Inky holds the hammock -> steady. -> -> While the zephynos play overhead, the three of them prepare to -> slide down to the deck of the balloonship along the zip line. - -Confidence and Inky, framing the Bread basket between them, slide -down the zipline to the balloonship. The zephynos frolic up overhead, -and the hole in the library wall gapes below. And beyond that, the -endless sea of clouds. - -Inky, having descended the line first, makes it to the ship ahead of -Bread and Confidence. They clambor up over the side, unhook themself, -and reach for the corner of the hammock. - -The 3rd Ginnarak Crystal is now on the deck of the ship. - -Looking up, Inky sees that two determined cyberplasms have started -following them out the library tower window. Neither has a harness. -One is hanging upside down on the cable, arms and legs wrapped around -it, and has managed to shimmy a couple feet away from Runesocesius. -The other has just swung out of the window and is holding onto the -line with their hands. They are kicking their legs up over and over, -trying to swing high enough to lock their ankles around the cable. - -In the time that it will take you to unhook the hammock and get both -Bread and Confidence onto the ship, the two pirates will have closed -most of the distance between you and might be within striking -distance. - -Meanwhile on the deck of the ship, the hemogoblin is deeply entranced -by a private conversation it seems to be having with the ruby-hilt -dagger. It nods and chirps and coos as it continues to strangle the -grip in its tiny bloody hands, singing softly and soothingly. The -ruby flashes and glints, almost strobe-like in the sunlight, as -though in the midst of some kind of struggle. But as the hemogoblin -continues its strange lullaby, the gem eventually fades and grows -dull, until finally it resembles nothing more than a lifeless lump of -stone. - -The hemogoblin releases its death grip on the dagger and lowers its -arms to its sides, allowing the dagger to slip to the ground. It -looks up at you happily with ruby-red eyes that seem to flash in the -sunlight, and it chirps merrily. - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2023-01/msg00014.html) - diff --git a/src/epistolary/00052.md b/src/epistolary/00052.md deleted file mode 100644 index c29001e..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00052.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,56 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00052 -created: Mon, 02 Jan 2023 12:38:09 -0700 -updated: Mon, 02 Jan 2023 12:38:09 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00052 {#00052} - -> Hmm well, that umm, heya little fella. What umm, what did you find -> there? Alex moves to pick up Uncle Corraidhin's dagger, noting that -> it's not nearly as brilliant as it was before. The ruby gem in the -> hilt appearing far closer to black obsidian now, rather unnerving all -> things considered.. -> -> "There's definitely something wrong with this Hemogoblin, this isn't -> normal" Alex thinks to himself, "What in the ever loving run level 0 -> did Uncle have this dagger for, and why the hell would he stuff it -> inside some old book." He deftly pockets the dagger, for further -> inspection once they're back at base. Likely someone at HQ can do a -> deeper analysis of it then. Thinking ahead, Alex also grabs a -> handkerchief from his breast pocket and soaks it in the pool of blood -> around the hemogoblin, better than nothing he supposes. -> -> Pulling a multi pronged instrument labelled "GBD" from his bag Alex -> begins to inspect the hemogoblin for magical, metaphysical, and -> technological aburations. "Just sit still a bit little fella, lets -> see what's going on" - -The hemogoblin hums merrily as you retrieve the dagger and -fruitlessly attempt to mop up the pool of blood. It wriggles -around---suddenly seemingly boneless---and giggles and blows -raspberries as you try to take measurements with the GBD. It is kind -of annoying but also totally cute. - -Your instrument picks up on an anomaly. You have a clear vital signal -for the hemogoblin. That's normal. And there is an extremely high -amount of ferrous material inside of it. But you think that's also -probably normal for a hemogoblin. Finally, there is a faint signal of -some other kind of entity. And that is not normal. - -Under normal circumstances you would say, given the measurements, -that this second non-goblin entity is in some kind of stable but -near-death or catatonic state. As though it is a deep sleep. Is there -some weird magic at work here? Or is this some strange, -undocumented part of the normal hemogoblin physiology? Did this -little fella just absorb a knife spirit? - -The hemogoblin reaches up and holds your hand as you pass the -instrument over its body. It smiles at you happily. - -WHAT DO YOU DO - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2023-01/msg00016.html) - - diff --git a/src/epistolary/00053.md b/src/epistolary/00053.md deleted file mode 100644 index 100708f..0000000 --- a/src/epistolary/00053.md +++ /dev/null @@ -1,100 +0,0 @@ ---- -title: 00053 -created: Mon, 02 Jan 2023 14:15:49 -0700 -updated: Mon, 02 Jan 2023 14:15:49 -0700 -syndicated: yes -public: yes ---- -### 00053 {#00053} - -> The GDB flashes, vibrates, and murmurs electronic static as it -> collects information from the Hemogoblin. "Peculiar readings indeed" -> Alex mutters, stashing the blood sample and readings from the device. -> Best to scp a copy of these for safe keeping. -> -> ``` -> scp gdb-readout.dat blood-soaked-handky hq:~ -> ``` -> -> Alright little guy, dunno what's wrong with ya, but you seem just as -> sweet and chipper as you were before, best not let anything foul -> befall you. Alex scoops the little hemogoblin up and puts him into -> his pack. The little goblin chirps happily, soaking the back in -> blood. "Hmm I guess I'll need a new cloak when we get to town.. good -> thing the STAGS are water proof." Taking accord of the situation Alex -> notices that Ink has dropped onto the deck, and is hurridly beckoning -> what looks like a stretcher and confidence down the zip line. "I -> guess things went not so smoothly back in the hotel then.." -> -> Looking up past confidence along the zip line Alex also notes a set -> of cyberplasms making their way clumsily along the zipline. "Shit! -> Inky, Confidence! Get the hell on the ship NOW!" -> -> Alex dashes back up to the helm of the ship and grabs the wheel. As -> soon as Inky has Confidence and the stretcher safely on the deck Alex -> grabs the wheel and casts the wheel hard to starboard side, ripping -> the zipline and moarings from the wall of the hotel. "Inky cut the -> zipline, quick a you can, and check the side of the hull for any stow -> aways!!" - -~ - -> As the toques slide down the last few feet to the deck of the -> balloonship. Inky takes out a sharp knife and saws through the -> zipline. As they patrol along the edge to check the side of the -> hull for additional company, Inky pulls out a tea strainer from -> their kit and opens a bag of limequats, small round fruits they -> keep around for their zest and juice to flavour some infusions. -> They drop a limequat into the strainer, preparing to fling a ball -> of citrus at the potential presence of any stowaways. - -Inky and Confidence carefully dump Bread onto the deck of the ship. -They grunt at the impact and mutter a weak thank you. - -Inky starts to saw through the zipline with their knife. The closest -cyberplasm can almost reach out for the railing and haul itself up. -The second pirate is not far behind it. Alex yanks the ship hard to -starboard and---thanks to Inky sawing on it---the line snaps cleanly -in two. - -Inky looks over the railing in time to see the second pirate fall -into the sea of clouds with a surprised look on its face. There is no -trace of the first one. As Inky patrols alongside the edge to check -for additional company, they see one ghostly hand and then the other -reach up and grab hold of the rail. - -When the cyberplasm pops its head up and peers over the railing, the -first thing it sees is a tea strainer flying at its face. It tries to -turn away, but ends up with a face full of limequat juice -nonetheless. As the citrus starts to burn, it squeezes its eyes shut -tight, even tighter than its grip on the railing. All of its focus -and effort is concentrated on the burning sensation in its eyes. On -autopilot, one of its hands lets go of the railing to quickly wipe -the juice away. - -When it grips the railing again, its hand is now slick with juice, -and it slips. Knocked off balance and unable to get a grip, the -pirate cries out as it too falls into the ocean of clouds, eyes -squeezed shut the whole time. - -Poking its head and arms out of the pack on Alex's back, the -hemogoblin claps and cheers. - -The balloonship sails away from Runesocesius and from Kelsun Peak. -The sun is starting to set, and the clouds are turning brilliant -pinks and reds. This delights the zephynos, who leap and cavort in -the clouds, and run playfully alongside the ship for a while. - -You have in your possession a stolen pirate airship, a recovered -Ginnarak Crystal, a couple novellas and manhwa, two warrior toque -tour guides, and a childlike hemogoblin who may or may not be -possessed by some kind of spirit. - -END OF CHAPTER 3 - -- What do you do once you get back to the Milk Market? -- Do you keep the airship? -- What becomes of Confidence and Bread? -- What do you do with the goblin child? - -[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2023-01/msg00019.html) diff --git a/www/index.html b/www/index.html index caf2db6..e2b751f 100644 --- a/www/index.html +++ b/www/index.html @@ -308,25 +308,9 @@ of the Were-Hare
  • Chapter 1
  • Chapter 2
    • -
  • Current Story -
    • +
  • Chapter 3
    • +
  • Current +Story
  • Bestiary
  • Geography
  • Cosmology
    • @@ -358,11 +342,11 @@ Runesocesius

    Stats

    -

    Total length: 55749 words / 238 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the +

    Total length: 55744 words / 238 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not just the story.)

    -

    There have been 185 messages posted over 173 days since the first -post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.06.

    +

    There have been 188 messages posted over 174 days since the first +post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.08.

    About

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

    @@ -3982,12 +3966,19 @@ mission?

    www

    -

    Current Story

    -

    Below are emails that I send to the mailing list.

    -

    You can subscribe to these updates with the rss feed.

    -

    https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml

    -

    00038

    +

    Chapter 3

    +

    Chapter 3 of BASEMENT QUEST.

    +

    Jump to: 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53

    + +

    00038

    The mission, party-wise, had been an abject failure.

    They had found the crystal, and Master Corraidhín had vanished. Inky @@ -4338,7 +4329,7 @@ the 1st Crystal?

    Find out next time on BASEMENT QUEST

    www

    -

    00039

    +

    00039

    Alex silently observes the party and this foolish hobbit, before him three untouched drinks have accumulated. He’s a little less enthusiatic @@ -4511,7 +4502,7 @@ Lucy’s before Blavin leaves if you want to.

    www

    -

    00040

    +

    00040

    As Blavin finished his afterthought about handing over the crystal, a yelp was the only warning they heard before a young waiter was suddenly @@ -4680,7 +4671,7 @@ you will take posession of the Ginnarak Crystal.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00041

    +

    00041

    Alex grips the encoded message he received in reply to his last request firmly in his coat pocket. It was simple, curt, impactful. @@ -4755,7 +4746,7 @@ cloudstuff. “Come! The hotelier will be very excited to greet you!”

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00042

    +

    00042

    This seems a bit strange. Certainly Blavin has been pulling strings from behind the scenes the whole time, but why coordinate a special @@ -4878,7 +4869,7 @@ bounding up the cloudstuff steps.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00043

    +

    00043

    Pirates?! Again?! Alex groans, unfortunately he’s run into this crew of dastardly mostly cybernetic punks in the past. Nasty group back home, @@ -4964,7 +4955,7 @@ hotel entrance, roughly pirate-adjacent.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00044

    +

    00044

    As Alex spots the sunspoke valve he grabs it and cranks it up to the 2/3 mark. “Sorry little friend, we’re going to need a little bit more @@ -5001,7 +4992,7 @@ stowaway!

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00045

    +

    00045

    As the blankets draw back from the bloody mass, a cute little hemogoblin appears. “Aww little fellas just scared.” Alex lowers the @@ -5072,7 +5063,7 @@ offensive stances. “Oh!” cries Bread. “It’s you!”

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00046

    +

    00046

    Ah so I suppose those Toques were being honest then, there was a Ginnarak crystal, and I guess they were going to give it to us.. oh @@ -5189,7 +5180,7 @@ airship shifts as it starts to drift, suddenly unmoored.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00047

    +

    00047

    Damn it! I should’ve left the little goblin in the balloon, this could get tricky..

    @@ -5282,7 +5273,7 @@ wisely doesn’t make a sound as he disappears from view.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00048

    +

    00048

    Alex snatches up his new hemo friend cheering huzzah as he does. We’ve got a pirate ship little guy!

    @@ -5483,7 +5474,7 @@ It was Bread’s idea. They were a good guide.”

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00049

    +

    00049

    “They are a good guide,” Inky corrects adamantly. “Do you hear that, Bread? You’re not allowed to disappear until you’ve had an @@ -5604,7 +5595,7 @@ lucky drone pilot that dared to chase its dreams.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00050

    +

    00050

    Meta: I look forward to reading the A.I.’s play once it’s written, we should go back and write the sequence of events for this segment from @@ -5651,7 +5642,7 @@ has already formed at its feet.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00051

    +

    00051

    As they wait for the balloonship to approach, Inky glances to the prone remains of the hotelier on the floor and frowns. There wasn’t much @@ -5742,7 +5733,7 @@ and it chirps merrily.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00052

    +

    00052

    Hmm well, that umm, heya little fella. What umm, what did you find there? Alex moves to pick up Uncle Corraidhin’s dagger, noting that it’s @@ -5783,7 +5774,7 @@ instrument over its body. It smiles at you happily.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00053

    +

    00053

    The GDB flashes, vibrates, and murmurs electronic static as it collects information from the Hemogoblin. “Peculiar readings indeed” @@ -5862,6 +5853,11 @@ some kind of spirit.

    www

    +

    Current Story

    +

    Below are emails that I send to the mailing list.

    +

    You can subscribe to these updates with the rss feed.

    +

    https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml

    Bestiary

    Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria

    diff --git a/www/rss.xml b/www/rss.xml index 0ea354a..4b357d0 100644 --- a/www/rss.xml +++ b/www/rss.xml @@ -5,2301 +5,5 @@ BASEMENT QWEST https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml Friends having ADVENTURES! Huzzah! - - 53 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 53 - Mon, 02 Jan 2023 14:15:49 --0700 - Mon, 02 Jan 2023 14:15:49 -0700 - - 00053 -
    -

    The GDB flashes, vibrates, and murmurs electronic static as - it collects information from the Hemogoblin. “Peculiar - readings indeed” Alex mutters, stashing the blood sample and - readings from the device. Best to scp a copy of these for safe - keeping.

    - 
    scp gdb-readout.dat blood-soaked-handky hq:~
    -

    Alright little guy, dunno what’s wrong with ya, but you - seem just as sweet and chipper as you were before, best not - let anything foul befall you. Alex scoops the little - hemogoblin up and puts him into his pack. The little goblin - chirps happily, soaking the back in blood. “Hmm I guess I’ll - need a new cloak when we get to town.. good thing the STAGS - are water proof.” Taking accord of the situation Alex notices - that Ink has dropped onto the deck, and is hurridly beckoning - what looks like a stretcher and confidence down the zip line. - “I guess things went not so smoothly back in the hotel - then..”

    -

    Looking up past confidence along the zip line Alex also - notes a set of cyberplasms making their way clumsily along the - zipline. “Shit! Inky, Confidence! Get the hell on the ship - NOW!”

    -

    Alex dashes back up to the helm of the ship and grabs the - wheel. As soon as Inky has Confidence and the stretcher safely - on the deck Alex grabs the wheel and casts the wheel hard to - starboard side, ripping the zipline and moarings from the wall - of the hotel. “Inky cut the zipline, quick a you can, and - check the side of the hull for any stow aways!!”

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    As the toques slide down the last few feet to the deck of - the balloonship. Inky takes out a sharp knife and saws through - the zipline. As they patrol along the edge to check the side - of the hull for additional company, Inky pulls out a tea - strainer from their kit and opens a bag of limequats, small - round fruits they keep around for their zest and juice to - flavour some infusions. They drop a limequat into the - strainer, preparing to fling a ball of citrus at the potential - presence of any stowaways.

    -
    -

    Inky and Confidence carefully dump Bread onto the deck of - the ship. They grunt at the impact and mutter a weak thank - you.

    -

    Inky starts to saw through the zipline with their knife. - The closest cyberplasm can almost reach out for the railing - and haul itself up. The second pirate is not far behind it. - Alex yanks the ship hard to starboard and—thanks to Inky - sawing on it—the line snaps cleanly in two.

    -

    Inky looks over the railing in time to see the second - pirate fall into the sea of clouds with a surprised look on - its face. There is no trace of the first one. As Inky patrols - alongside the edge to check for additional company, they see - one ghostly hand and then the other reach up and grab hold of - the rail.

    -

    When the cyberplasm pops its head up and peers over the - railing, the first thing it sees is a tea strainer flying at - its face. It tries to turn away, but ends up with a face full - of limequat juice nonetheless. As the citrus starts to burn, - it squeezes its eyes shut tight, even tighter than its grip on - the railing. All of its focus and effort is concentrated on - the burning sensation in its eyes. On autopilot, one of its - hands lets go of the railing to quickly wipe the juice - away.

    -

    When it grips the railing again, its hand is now slick with - juice, and it slips. Knocked off balance and unable to get a - grip, the pirate cries out as it too falls into the ocean of - clouds, eyes squeezed shut the whole time.

    -

    Poking its head and arms out of the pack on Alex’s back, - the hemogoblin claps and cheers.

    -

    The balloonship sails away from Runesocesius and from - Kelsun Peak. The sun is starting to set, and the clouds are - turning brilliant pinks and reds. This delights the zephynos, - who leap and cavort in the clouds, and run playfully alongside - the ship for a while.

    -

    You have in your possession a stolen pirate airship, a - recovered Ginnarak Crystal, a couple novellas and manhwa, two - warrior toque tour guides, and a childlike hemogoblin who may - or may not be possessed by some kind of spirit.

    -

    END OF CHAPTER 3

    -
      -
    • What do you do once you get back to the Milk Market?
      • -
    • Do you keep the airship?
      • -
    • What becomes of Confidence and Bread?
      • -
    • What do you do with the goblin child?
      • -
    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     - - 43 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 43 - Mon, 19 Dec 2022 08:03:20 --0700 - Mon, 19 Dec 2022 08:03:25 -0700 - - 00043 -
    -

    Pirates?! Again?! Alex groans, unfortunately he’s run into - this crew of dastardly mostly cybernetic punks in the past. - Nasty group back home, always kept the precinct busy. Not - necessarily with the detective work, it was always a little - obvious when they showed up. They have a flair for the - dramatic.

    -

    Alex shouts to Inky & Jarrod “Come on, we need to get - in one of those balloons and fast!” he then darts off in the - direction of the nearest abandoned balloon in the market - place, not looking to see if his companions had followed - him.

    -

    internally I know these guys have pulled off - smaller heists, they could just be attacking the hotel to - plunder riches from its guests. They don’t seem the likes of a - retrieval team.. Then again, that Blavin fellow has multiple - teams working for him, and he doesn’t seem all too picky about - how they get the job done, it wouldn’t be surprising if he’d - hired some brigands hoping they’d get the gems faster.

    -

    Alex conjures up another bug, a stag beetle this time, and - casts it away at the pirate ship. It’ll probably take some - time to catch up, but once it does we’ll be able to keep an - eye on the pirate’s ship and general actions, at least within - line of sight of the bug.

    -

    As Alex reaches the balloon he grabs the ruby hilted dagger - and cuts the mooring lines keeping it down, and jumps into the - basket preparing for take off.

    -
    -

    You spot a balloon that has already been knocked half loose - of its mooring by the pirate attack. The basket is listing to - the side and tugging at the one remaining rope tying it down - Its owner scurries around in circles trying to secure it.

    -

    The vertical panels of the balloon are all different - colors, creating a brilliant rainbow pattern. The large woven - basket is large enough for maybe three people.

    -

    You leap inside, swinging the ruby hilted dagger at the - remaining mooring line. The balloon owner cries out in dismay. - The basket shifts beneath your feet as the balloon tugs it - skyward.

    -

    In the burner, a small sunspoke—a minor fire elemental—is - merrily burning away, producing a modest flame that is hot - enough to lift the balloon slowly above the market into the - sky. There is a knob valve on the side of the burner to allow - more oxygen to flow in, thereby feeding the sunspoke and - encouraging it to burn more intensely and raise the balloon - higher and faster. The valve is currently only about one third - open.

    -

    A pile of blankets in one corner of the basket—and that - area of the basket itself—is covered in blood. Somebody - injured in the pirate attack must have temporarily climbed - into the basket looking for cover? As you’re about to look - away, something large-ish (small for a human, large for an - animal) under the blankets shifts and moves.

    -
    -

    Inky stares after Alex’s sprinting figure before shrugging - and stepping towards one of the stalls selling sandwiches - bowled over by one of the large boulders. They place some - loose change on the stall’s wooden sign that had tipped over - on the ground and pocket one of the sandwiches displayed - inside an open chest oven. Next, they pick up several of the - scented candles scattered on the ground by the crash, throwing - some coins in the direction of the disoriented vendor before - continuing at a leisurely pace up the steps to the hotel, - taking in the balloonship and surrounding scenery. The members - of their merry party arriving first can hold their own as well - as the fort of a hotel.

    -
    -

    You do a little leisurely shopping as the vendors and other - shoppers put out fires and tend to the injured. With a couple - scented candles and a sandwich safely in your pocket, you - start to climb the cloud steps, enjoying the scenery as you - go. Bread and Confidence have quite a bit of a head start on - you, and are nowhere to be seen. As the stairway winds around - the mountainside, the market and its bustle recede from view, - and soon you are quite isolated and alone.

    -

    The majesty of creation is humbling here: the endless, - roiling ocean of cloud; the towering mountain of rock. It’s as - though this was the creator’s playground when they were still - trying to figure out scale. Before they quite got it right for - human-sized creatures.

    -

    About halfway up your climb, it starts raining sheets of - paper. You snatch one and read it. Some heroic fantasy about - slaying demons and facing great peril. You grab another. A - bodice-ripping romance. Another. A gourmand’s food tour of - Basmentaria, eating their way from coast to coast. A murder - mystery whodunnit. An aetherwael handler’s guide to - interplanetary travel. How to grow your own fortified - pumpkins. On the Care and Maintenance of Fortles. The Rise and - Fall and Rise of Palace Runesocesius. Within a minute, you - have fists full of an entire library’s worth of snippets and - passages.

    -

    ~

    -

    It looks as though Alex will approach the hotel by balloon - from the non-pirate side. And Inky’s approach by stair will - deposit them at the hotel entrance, roughly - pirate-adjacent.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

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    - ]]> -     -     - - 39 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 39 - Sat, 19 Nov 2022 07:38:02 --0700 - Fri, 25 Nov 2022 07:11:12 -0700 - - 00039 -
    -

    Alex silently observes the party and this foolish hobbit, - before him three untouched drinks have accumulated. He’s a - little less enthusiatic about taking drink from strangers, too - much risk in that. As Blavin describes this crystal, whatever - it may be, he catches a glimpse of the pinkish purplish - armband on the party across from them. They don’t look out of - place given the patrons at the tavern, but he’s certain they - were listening in on the animated conversation of the hobbit. - It could be nothing, or it coule be connected to Corraidhin, - best to put a bug on them Alex thinks.

    -

    Silently beneath the table and out of site Alex prepares a - bug and sets it off to follow the person with the armband. - Once the bug catches up to the part it’s programmed to perform - a tcpdump and capture information streaming around it, and - then report back to Alex once full. By no means a perfect - method of spying, but it’s low energy and can be maintained - from great distances without taxing Alex’s energy.

    -

    As Blavin comes back to the group from his grandoise space - commentary Alex begins to question him.

    -

    Enough of your theatrics hobbit. Tell me about the mark, - you’ve obviously tipped off the entire tavern as to the - whereabouts of whatever it is you’re looking for, so give us - an edge, something those evesdroppers a table over don’t have. - And cut this tripe about your benefactor, who is he, and what - does he want with this magical baubbles.

    -

    As Alex finishes his questions he sits quietly for a moment - staring down Blavin.

    -

    During this outburts, as all eyes turn to Blavin for his - response, Alex casts yet another bug. This one sneaks onto the - personage of Blavin himself. Programmed the same way.

    -

    We’ll get information from someone, subtle, or not if - needed.

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    Inky watches with faint amusement as a magical device, - likely a probe, found its way onto their mission handler.

    -

    Inky might have missed the slight movement under the table - if they weren’t waiting for it, having received word of the - younger wizard’s penchant for pre-emptive offence magic. As it - were, the offices and surrounding premises were routinely - swept for similar devices, a more recent example of which had - been placed in plain sight by an overzealous tabloid writer - hoping to pick up an exclusive reveal. The quality of the - contraption, which had immediately fallen apart when detached - from its gum adhesive on the back of a glass vase, had been - almost insulting.

    -

    It seems Blackfoot hadn’t learned his lesson after all, and - if Alex was keen to give him a reminder, Inky had no - objection. As Blavin takes another swig from his sixth drink - of the evening, the waitress smiling at him with a wink as she - set down their glasses before skating away to take another - order (Inky made sure tip her liberally for the attentive - service), Inky let their line of sight flicker to a - fuchsia-coloured band on a departing customer’s arm.

    -

    Inky smiles internally at the sight — they can almost hear - Beaker’s crow of dismay. The poor kingfisher had been under - increased pressure of late from other scientific associations - and prominent speakers to exclude BAND from presenting at one - of the largest annual ornithology conferences of the year on - accusations of spreading misinformation and junk science in - addition to attempting to erase the history of native bird - tribes. There had been a huge row, which ended with the - BANDits storming off, yelling about “the proof being crystal - clear” and that they will bring “ancient arcane evidence”. The - Alcedinian researcher had lamented the halcyon days when - conferences were avenues for scientific exchange, not - twittering soapboxes. Not that anyone who had ever tried to - arrange any gathering of birds of a feather really thought - things simply glided along smoothly before. However, the - advent of dedicated carrier pigeon networks had made it easier - to relay research to and from smaller communities, opening the - pathways for their participation, including a few somewhat - Controversial fringe groups like BAND.

    -
    -

    Alex attempts to shake down the hobbit, who titters merrily - at his demands.

    -

    “You know nearly everything I do, dear! Your mark - as you put it,” Blaven theatrically drops his voice as he - looks around for eavesdroppers, “would be the zephynos of - Kelsun Peak should you choose to go that route.

    -

    “If you choose to go to the moon, you’ll have a harder go - of it,” he frowns. He flips the map over and draws four - circles in a straight line. They have the proportions of a - grapefruit, an orange, a tangerine, and an orange. He jabs a - finger at the grapefruit. “This is us, here, earth.” He points - at the two oranges and the tangerine. “And these are our - planet’s moons.” He points to them in order. “Selene, the - Green Lady. Moonmoon. And Lua, the Red Lady. Recently, as you - well know, we had a super eclipse in which these four bodies - and the sun all lined up in perfect alignment. The combined - magnetic pull of the spheres allowed a rare commingling of the - ionic spheres, and our instruments were able to detect the - crystal somewhere out there in space. If I were to bet on it, - I would put my money on Lua.” He points to the farthest moon, - the Red Lady, with its own tiny satellite, Moonmoon. He looks - up at you and explains, “She’s far enough away that her - ionosphere would never make contact with ours except for in - this particular, rare circumstance. That’s why the crystal has - escaped our detection for so long.”

    -

    “As for the Benefactor!” He brightens up. “He’s a - magnificent fellow as you well know! A renowned collector. His - wishes are to preserve the crystals and protect them (and us!) - from their misuse or mishandling! He has a hot tub!” he winks - at you. “Speaking of crystals,” he adds as an afterthought, - taking another sip of his drink, “why don’t you hand that - crystal over to me and I’ll deliver it to the Benefactor. That - is what he’s paying you for after all!”

    - -

    The Ornithologer’s Trio leaves Lucy’s Basement quite - oblivious to their bug. The Ornithologer turns out to be the - orator of their little group, ranting about the conspiracy, - the attempted cover up, about how Big Science wants to - convince you that birds are dinosaurs but they’re just pulling - the wool over your eyes. The truth is right there in the - fossil record for crying out loud! All you have to do is look - for yourself. Nobody these days wants to think is the - problem. They just get their information from the authorities - and take it as gospel, but they don’t see that the authorities - have adopted a narrative that suits their own ends.

    -

    At which point the groll interjects and asks what is the - end goal of Big Science, and how exactly does convincing the - proletariat that birds are dinosaurs help achieve it?

    -

    The BANDit scowls and answers, Look, you just don’t get it, - okay!

    -

    The three split up and go their separate ways and disappear - into the night.

    -

    You learn the following, one of which is true, one of which - is false, and one of which is meaningless.

    -
      -

    1. BAND plans to intercept the CRYSTAL of VOID and use it - to petition the Insatiable Wyrm for definitive proof that - Birds Are Not Dinosaurs. In this way they shall shame their - fellow paleornithologists and earn their rightful place at the - table of Big Science, which they have spent decades - undermining.

      2. -

    2. The Gnu Zealots intend to reverse engineer the power of - the crystals, create a newborn godling, and then release their - findings, thus laying the foundation of the world’s first - truly open source religion

      3. -

    3. The trio seeks the crystals not at all, but in fact - search for Sitopotnia, creator and progenitor of the entire - amaizeon race—including corbits, aurs, centaurs, and - others—and the only mortal in the history of Basmentaria to - successfully take the mantle of creation from the - overgods.

      4. -
    - -

    Meanwhile, Blaven slips out into the early, early morning - carrying his own bug. He whistles tunelessly to himself as he - sails down the street with a wide and veering but surprisingly - steady gait.

    -

    Once he gets a few blocks away, his gait narrows and his - step becomes more lively, a bit jaunty. He stands upright and - ceases whistling. All signs of drunkenness disappear as he - tugs on his sleeves and straightens his vest, and runs a hand - through his hair.

    -

    He meets a goblin catcher in the street going the other - way, wearily making his way home after a long night’s work. He - wears a tiny goblin in a glass jar around his neck, as is the - signifier of his trade. And he carries over his shoulder a - large cloth sack, the contents of which writhe and kick. Looks - like it was a productive night for our goblin catcher! Blaven - gives him a little bow and a salute, laughs, and pats him on - the back in passing, deftly transferring the bug. “Good night - for it then ey?” he calls cheerily. The goblin catcher smiles - politely, mumbles a nicety, and carries on.

    -

    Later, hidden safely away from spying eyes and listening - ears, Blaven sits at his desk, putting the final flourishes on - a missive. He sits back and re-reads it to himself, lips - moving silently. He nods and smiles, satisfied, and reaches - for a stamp to sign the letter. He presses it into a dark red - ink pad and then onto the parchment, leaving the image of an - apple and iris. He sands the paper, carefully folds it, and - places it in an envelope.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

    Note: Feel free to back up and play out some more - conversation at Lucy’s before Blavin leaves if you want - to.

    -

    Options on the table:

    -
      -
    • To the mountains!
      • -
    • To the moon!
      • -
    • Something else!
      • -
    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     - - 46 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 46 - Thu, 22 Dec 2022 12:36:07 --0700 - Thu, 22 Dec 2022 12:36:10 -0700 - - 00046 -
    -

    Ah so I suppose those Toques were being honest then, there - was a Ginnarak crystal, and I guess they were going to give it - to us.. oh well, nothing good in life comes easy.

    -

    Alex cranks the dial on the sunspoke, grabs the hemogoblin - from the basket, and jumps out of the balloon and onto the - deck of the ship. He rushes over to the nearest pile of - bundled rope and barrels and stows his new hemo friend. “Just - stay hidden little guy, let me take care of these pirates - first.”

    -

    Alex grabs the dagger from his side as he makes his way - towards the side of the ship, first thing first, best to cut - the mooring lines and zip lines. The static clawing sensation - appears at the back of Alex’s mind, but he attempts to ignore - it. There’s too much that needs to be done too quickly, and - he’s all too aware of the danger he’s put himself in. “What - would Corraidhin do..” Alex thinks to himself, “perhaps a - spell?”.

    - 
    function target:new(obj, tbl)
-  obj = obj or {}
-  setmetatable(obj, self)
-  self.__index = self
-  self.x = 0
-  self.y = 0
-  self.speed = 0
-  reutrn obj
-end
-
-function target:yeet()
-  self.x = 100
-  self.y = 100
-  self.speed = 50
-  return self
-end
    -

    After preparing the spell Alex makes his way towards the - guard rail ready to cut the mooring and zip lines, spell at - the ready should an enemy appear.

    -
    -

    You crank the dial to 11. The sunspoke squeals in delight - and burns like a tiny star. You grab the hemogoblin, who - chirrups and clings tightly to you, and leap from the balloon - onto the deck of the airship.

    -

    You think you can hear—barely audible—the sunspoke singing - a song of homecoming as the hot air balloon continues to rise - unpiloted up toward the sun.

    -

    You rush over to cover behind a barrel, and deposit your - new hemogoblin friend safely inside the center of a large coil - of rope. It looks up at you quizzically, but nods when you - tell it to stay put.

    -

    You invoke the powers of the moon and prepare a quick but - (hopefully) sufficient Spell of Yeeting.

    - -

    When you draw the dagger, the world develops a faint static - background noise which is easy enough to ignore at the moment - given the state of things. You dash forward and start sawing - at the thick mooring lines. The dagger’s ruby hilt flashes in - the sunlight as you work, and in your mind’s eye you see a - bright red wine, and a drop of blood red ink flowing from the - nib of a fountain pen.

    -

    You shake the images from your head just as you finish - sawing through the rope. A Cyberplasm who was shimmying back - up the rope from the hotel to the ship yelps as the line goes - slack and swings back into the side of the cliff. The pirate - rebounds from the impact, bounces off the mountainside a few - times, and falls from view as it disappears through the clouds - below.

    -

    The ship drifts lazily, rising slightly, and despite your - best sneaking around, the remaining Cyberplasms on board - cannot help but notice that the ship is no longer tethered. - You successfully hide behind a barrel as three cyber ghost - pirates come rushing over to the ship railing and lean over, - looking below at where there are no longer any ropes attaching - the ship to the hotel.

    -

    Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the hemogoblin - toddling across the deck toward the Cyberplasms, no doubt - curious about what they’re looking at over the side of the - ship.

    -
    -

    “Indeed, Bread, it’s me. You have not yet escaped your fate - of untraceable disappearance just yet.” Inky deadpans, then - smiles. “We have much to discuss, but later. I do need a guide - … to your hotelier. Presumably I will find them by following - the racket and trail of ruined decor, but maybe you know of a - quicker route?”

    -
    -

    Bread smiles at the threat of being untraceably - disappeared, mostly confident that they are on the inside of a - private little joke and that they are presently in no actual - danger from Inky. They grip their hammer a little tighter - nonetheless.

    -

    Confidence slips their trowels into their apron. “Yes, this - way!”

    -

    They hurry down the hall. You know you’re going the right - way because tattered, torn, charred books litter the ground in - increasing numbers. Bits of paper and ash fall like snow.

    -

    Confidence guides you away from the entrance to the - library’s Great Hall, and takes you instead to a smaller, more - discreet staff entrance. They open the door a crack, and as - you look through you are just in time to see the ship captain - with their cybernetic leg, arm canon, and eye. Now that the - crew have cleared the way for them, they stroll across the - library over piles of fallen, damaged books.

    -

    A thin bald man with a neatly trimmed mustache is on the - other side of the hall, his back turned to the pirate. He - wears a fine suit and has just finished unlocking a glass - display case. He retrieves a multifaceted blue and gold stone - and hugs it to his chest with both arms. He throws a panicked - glance over his shoulder at the slowly approaching pirate, and - turns to run away. His retreat is halted by a small explosion - at his feet. He skids to a stop and looks back at the pirate, - who is lowering their arm canon.

    -

    “The crystal,” the captain demands in a voice part ghostly - moan, part mechanical drone. “Hand it over, hotelier.” It - steps closer. “Mother has promised us new bodies if we deliver - the quintessence. You won’t be permitted to stand in our - way.”

    -

    One pirate near the breach tucks a couple volumes of manhwa - under its arm and climbs out onto the mooring line, returning - to the ship with its plunder. It howls as the line suddenly - goes slack, flinging the pirate and its comics into the - mountainside, and then out into space.

    -

    Sunlight pours into the library from outside as the shadow - of the airship shifts as it starts to drift, suddenly - unmoored.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     - - 47 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 47 - Thu, 22 Dec 2022 16:51:54 --0700 - Thu, 22 Dec 2022 16:51:59 -0700 - - 00047 -
    -

    Damn it! I should’ve left the little goblin in the balloon, - this could get tricky..

    -

    Time slows for just the briefest of moments while Alex - calculates his next move. Looking at the position of the - pirates he can probably yeet the middlemost one away from the - group into the left most pirate. Best case this sends both of - them sailing over the edge of the ship, worst case it just - slightly knocks them off balance. In either event this gives - me enough time to dart from cover and quickly dispatch the - right most pirate with Uncle’s dagger. I’ve got to sever each - connection point between the ecotplasm and the cybernetics, - nothing quite as quick and easy as flesh and blood, but a - quick slice to the left most armpit, and another to the right - most leg right above the carotid artery should do it..

    -

    Jumping immediately to action Alex casts - yeet.middle_cyberplasm() sending the middle - pirate into the left most pirate away from the hemogoblin - while he dashes forward to take the third right most pirate by - surprise. As he reaches the right most pirate he makes two - quick slices, first at the leg, followed by a quick upper cut - to the left arm.

    -
    - -

    You channel some of the ambient environmental charge into - your prepared incantation. It’s comforting sometimes to peer - behind the veil and see the world through this lens. It’s so - simple. The separation of self and other is an illusion: - everything is just a table. The concept of time itself is - simplified: coroutines prevent everything from happening all - at once and create the illusion of concurrency. It’s all - really quite elegant.

    -

    Anyway so the hemogoblin sidles up next to the pirates at - the railing. It’s not tall enough to see over the railing, and - starts to kind of jump up and down, trying to catch a glimpse. - The pirates look down at it in confusion just as the - yeet happens, and they knock into each other. The - leftmost one almost manages to regain its balance but then - trips over the little blood gremlin and pitches over the - railing. The middle pirate yelps as the startled hemogoblin - darts between its legs to get out of the way. The pirate - stumbles and then slips in a small puddle of blood. Its feet - shoot from beneath it and it too tips over the railing.

    - -

    The hemogoblin dashes right into the waiting arms of the - rightmost Cyberplasm. “Gotcha, you little … ugh! What …” The - pirate is starting to regret snatching up the little furball, - which is defensively gushing blood all over it, when you make - your first slice into its left armpit. Half its cybernetics go - offline. One arm goes limp and it drops the hemogoblin, which - scurries around and hides behind you. The pirate turns toward - you, now full of regrets, and you stab into its right leg, - knocking its tech completely offline and dispersing the - ghostly energies.

    -

    As far as you can tell, the ship is now free of - Cyberplasms.

    -

    The hemogoblin thrusts its tiny fists in the air and - cheers.

    -
    -

    Inky shakes out several large and very fine kerchiefs, - handing two each to the guides and gestures for them to cover - their noses and mouths with them while they perform the action - themselves to demonstrate.

    -

    Donning a pair of skydiving goggles snatched from one of - the souvenir stalls at the gondola station while no one was - looking (replacing it with its approximate weight in silver - coins), Inky retrieves a black metal box that previously - served as a portable camp stove from their knapsack and - removes the lid. The inside of the box is filled with dry wood - chips mixed with a pine green powder, and Inky throws in the - wicks pulled from some of the scented candles that were pushed - into a heater flask to melt fully during the walk up the hotel - steps. Finally, Inky pours another vial of foul-smelling - liquid over the contents, opens the door just wide enough to - slide the metal box through to one side of the door a few - paces away.

    -

    A mildly sweet, cloying smoke emanates from the flameless - heat inside the box, which begin to fill the library hall with - a rapidly thickening cloud. It is also taking on an acrid and - slightly sooty edge. Near the door, Inky fans more of the - smoke in the direction of the cyberplasmic apparition with a - thin bound manuscript laying on the floor.

    -
    -

    Bread, Confidence, and you all don protective gear. You - push the camp stove through the door like an Olympic curler. - It glides across the library floor a respectable distance - considering the book debris and the lack of sweepers. Much - more quickly than one would think possible, the hall is filled - with a thick, sooty smoke. The Cyberplasm captain groans with - frustration as even the short distance between it and the - hotelier (and the crystal) becomes occluded in the smoke - screen. The hotelier wisely doesn’t make a sound as he - disappears from view.

    -

    Bread nudges you, grins, and gives you a thumbs up.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     - - 52 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 52 - Mon, 02 Jan 2023 12:38:09 --0700 - Mon, 02 Jan 2023 12:38:09 -0700 - - 00052 -
    -

    Hmm well, that umm, heya little fella. What umm, what did - you find there? Alex moves to pick up Uncle Corraidhin’s - dagger, noting that it’s not nearly as brilliant as it was - before. The ruby gem in the hilt appearing far closer to black - obsidian now, rather unnerving all things considered..

    -

    “There’s definitely something wrong with this Hemogoblin, - this isn’t normal” Alex thinks to himself, “What in the ever - loving run level 0 did Uncle have this dagger for, and why the - hell would he stuff it inside some old book.” He deftly - pockets the dagger, for further inspection once they’re back - at base. Likely someone at HQ can do a deeper analysis of it - then. Thinking ahead, Alex also grabs a handkerchief from his - breast pocket and soaks it in the pool of blood around the - hemogoblin, better than nothing he supposes.

    -

    Pulling a multi pronged instrument labelled “GBD” from his - bag Alex begins to inspect the hemogoblin for magical, - metaphysical, and technological aburations. “Just sit still a - bit little fella, lets see what’s going on”

    -
    -

    The hemogoblin hums merrily as you retrieve the dagger and - fruitlessly attempt to mop up the pool of blood. It wriggles - around—suddenly seemingly boneless—and giggles and blows - raspberries as you try to take measurements with the GBD. It - is kind of annoying but also totally cute.

    -

    Your instrument picks up on an anomaly. You have a clear - vital signal for the hemogoblin. That’s normal. And there is - an extremely high amount of ferrous material inside of it. But - you think that’s also probably normal for a hemogoblin. - Finally, there is a faint signal of some other kind of entity. - And that is not normal.

    -

    Under normal circumstances you would say, given the - measurements, that this second non-goblin entity is in some - kind of stable but near-death or catatonic state. As though it - is a deep sleep. Is there some weird magic at work here? Or is - this some strange, undocumented part of the normal hemogoblin - physiology? Did this little fella just absorb a knife - spirit?

    -

    The hemogoblin reaches up and holds your hand as you pass - the instrument over its body. It smiles at you happily.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     - - 48 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 48 - Wed, 28 Dec 2022 16:08:10 --0700 - Wed, 28 Dec 2022 16:08:12 -0700 - - 00048 -
    -

    Alex snatches up his new hemo friend cheering huzzah as he - does. We’ve got a pirate ship little guy!

    -

    Rushing about the deck Alex quickly takes stock of what’s - left, plenty of ammo, general supplies, fuel, perfectly - provisioned for a quick crystal kidnapping. Smart move - pirates, but not smart enough.

    -

    Alex heads to the helm and steadies the ship guiding it out - and away from the library, can’t have any of the remaining - cyberplasms easily reboarding it now can we? Once the ship is - out of range Alex checks his S.T.A.G drone’s twtxt feed for - updates.

    - 
    @<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Cyberplasm approaching crystal
-@<drone/fhsoa7483/gps> approx library, top level
-@<drone/fhsoa7483/audio> Cyberplasm threatens violence
-@<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Inky, bread, confidence enter subvertly
-@<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Visual feed impaired due to unknown smog
-@<drone/fhsoa7483/audio> Angry tones, uncertain who
    -

    Not particularly helpful, and it rules out my first - thought. I could blindly fire the broadside canons into the - library hoping to hit the cyberplasm, but I’d be just as - likely to hit Inky, Bread, Confidence or any other innocent - bystander. I’ve got to get a message to her.

    -

    Alex quickly dispatches a command to the S.T.A.G

    - 
    @<drone/fhsoa7483/cmd> Seek Inky
-@<drone/fhsoa7483/relay> Secured ship, inform A.I of intentions, will coordinate rescue via the stolen ship
    -

    If all we’ve got is this, then we’d best be ready for a - quick rescue. Alex busies himself preparing a new zipline and - mooring lines. He then loads the boradside canons and the top - deck swivel canons. It’ll need to be quick, but if I’m ready I - can swing the ship in close, deploy a zipline for Inky to zip - down to the ship with, and defend the retreat with the - swivels. If everyone retreats to the ship we can take a note - from the pirates playbook and blast them to hell with the - broadsides while we make our retreat. Or simply run I suppose, - but I dislike the idea of leaving innocent people to deal with - angry pirates

    -
    -

    The hemogoblin cheers you on as you take possession of the - airship, accidentally squirting a few jets of rust colored - blood in its excitement. Must still be quite young. They don’t - gain full control of their blood sacs until well into - adulthood.

    -

    You check your S.T.A.G. drone’s twtxt feeds. This A.I. - seems especially reliable, you note with satisfaction. Its - updates are regular and detailed. Even when there’s not much - to report.

    -

    You load up the canons and take control of the helm. The - hemogoblin stands at attention at the broadside canons with a - cracklesparkler, ready to light the fuse at your command. You - steer the ship a short distance away from the hotel, hopefully - out of reach of the cyberplasms. But within range of your own - canons and ziplines.

    -
    -

    While Inky has the attention of both guides, they close the - door again until it is slightly ajar, and make a series of - hand gestures. First pointing at themselves, at their own - forearm and fist held stiffly to mimic the shape of the - captain’s arm cannon, to indicate that Inky will handle the - Cyberplasm. Then Inky points the two fingers of a hand at - Bread and Confidence, turns the two fingers downward and - swings them back and forth in opposite directions to convey - walking. This was followed by a single finger pointing in the - general direction they had last seen the hotelier; then the - finger hooks inward, the arm repeating a yanking motion once - or twice before ending the gesture with a thumb tossed over - their shoulder towards the hallway away from the staff - entrance, to ask them to get their boss out of the library to - a safe spot.

    -

    Without waiting for confirmation from the toques, Inky - opens the door, abruptly stops, turns and shoves a compostable - bag of mango-flavoured croutons at Bread, gives them a thumbs - up in return and a mildly disturbing, eye-crinkling smile - behind their kerchief, before slipping inside the smoky room. - One hand is already pulling out a thin, extendable metal - walking pole with a carrying strap visually resembling the - type used by hikers from their courier bag to check for - obstacles amid the lowered visibility.

    -
    -

    Confidence watches all of your hand gestures closely, and - then nods resolutely. They draw their large hoe, and turn and - start to crouch run toward the main entrance to to the main - hall of the library.

    -

    Bread looks confused, but ready to follow Confidence. They - grab their heavy meat tenderizer and crouch down in imitation - of their fellow toque. Before they can run off, you shove a - bag of croutons into their arms. “Small. Toasted. Bread,” they - intonate slowly in wonder. The confusion falls from their face - as they break into a wide grin. “Now I’ll never disappear - without a trace,” they laugh. They thank you and run like a - duck after Confidence.

    -
    -

    Inside, Inky lobs the empty glass vial that had held the - unpleasantly pungent organic catalyst at a spot the floor - several paces roughly from where the Cyberplasm — presumably - the leader of the group — had been standing earlier, in the - opposite direction of the staff entrance in an attempt to - divert attention from the hotelier’s last location. As they - edge along the wall towards the tower stairs, walking pole - looped over one hand, Inky grabs a few small hardcover - novellas from a wall shelf. Straightening from their crouch, - Inky tosses them one at a time horizontally in quick - succession like a discus, but without the full-body turning - motion, across the hall towards the sounds of frustrated - groans and angry muttering. The first starting higher around - where a human head might have once been, one at waist height - and another at the juncture below where ectoplasmic knees - might meet prosthetic legs.

    -
    -

    You pick up three hardback novellas. If it wasn’t so smoky, - and if you weren’t so much in the middle of a potentially life - and death struggle with the Cyberplasm captain of a pirate - airship, you might notice their titles: Stop and Smell the - Crystals, Living the Corn, and A Big - Moon.

    - -

    Anyway, you start flinging.

    - -

    After you toss the catalyst, you can see a plasmic form - heavily blurred and obscured by the smoke turn in that - direction. You fling Stop and Smell the Crystals at - it, and it spins like a discus and smashes into the pirate - right in the face, above the chin. It howls and brings its - hand to its face, and turns and charges up its arm cannon.

    - -

    Mostly going on sound now, you fling Living the - Corn at the pirate’s moan and at the electric whine of - the canon charging. You hear the canon discharge but the - half-blind pirate fires wide. You see the flash of the energy - blast hitting something, someone, else obscured by smoke in - the middle distance between the two of you. A man screams out - in pain. Right after the muffled thump of his body hitting the - ground, you hear the clinking and ringing of something heavy - and metallic striking and rolling across the floor.

    -

    Living on Corn strikes the pirate in the elbow, - and with a fizzle and a spark, the arm cannon sputters - offline.

    - -

    The pirate stumbles forward, half-lame and half-blind. It - stoops and scoops up a heavy melon-sized object. It stomps its - cybernetic boot, and small rockets spring out from small - compartments on either side of its ankle. They start to fire - up and the pirate is about to make its escape when A Big - Moon hits it right above knee and severs the ghost’s - final connection to its final enhancement.

    -

    It groans as it starts to dissipate, dropping the heavy - object once more.

    -

    “My crew, it is too late for me! I shall never have a new - body now! But it’s not too late for you! You must bring the - quintessence to Mother!”

    -

    And then the pirate’s essence is diluted in the smoke - filling the library.

    -
    -

    At that moment Inky hears a very low whirring accompanied - by clicking sounds behind them and without glancing backwards, - swings the walking pole at the source of the buzzing. The - stick collides with something, sending it careening backwards - with a light clatter through what is likely a row of - bookshelves around the area already partially emptied of their - contents. From the static noise that ensues, Inky realises - whatever it was may or may not have been one of the wizard’s - bugs hovering in the shadows earlier or a disembodied, - ectoplasm-spewing prosthetic limb after all. Inky calls out - sheepishly, “Sorry, Young Master Alex! Was that yours? Oops? - Haha?” before smashing two more empty glass bottles as a - distraction for any remaining Cyberplasms lurking on the same - floor, and sprints up the tower stairs, using the banisters as - a guide.

    -
    -

    The Amber Imp is feverishly reporting all the goings on - from inside the S.T.A.G. drone when Inky strikes its - conveyance with their walking pole. The bug is destroyed on - contact. The imp barely manages to fire off one final End Of - Transmission post before ejecting from the craft, which sinks - below like an exploded firework. It drifts on the currents of - smoke and flows out through the hole in the wall into the open - air outside. The imp falls through open space and starts to - think back on its life. So much time and energy spent chasing - its hopes and dreams, its goals and aspirations. So much of - its life wasted in pursuit. Always reaching, never grasping. - Is that all it gets? Is this the end? Did it ever really even - get a chance to really live?

    -

    These thoughts race through its head as it falls, but are - cut short when it abruptly lands on a hard bed of cloudstuff. - It tumbles and rolls and comes to a stop. And when it looks - up, amazed to be alive and vowing to make the most of this - second chance at life, it looks up into the benevolent smiling - face of a pink zephynos.

    -

    ~

    -

    Inky, you cross the floor to where the pirate had its last - stand. You find what appears to be approximately one-fifth of - the hotelier, and wonder idly where the rest of him might be. - And you notice a conspicuous lack of Ginnarak Crystal.

    -

    You do however notice a soft crunch underfoot. And when you - bend down to inspect it—disorganized cyberplasms running amok - in the smoke behind you—you discover a trail of mango flavored - croutons leading across the hall to the tower stairs.

    -

    You sprint up the stairs using the banisters as a guide. - The breadcrumb trail ends on the seventh level, where - Confidence sits slumped against the wall between two - bookshelves. They have one arm around four-fifths of the - hotelier, his shocked gaze telling you everything you need to - know, that he is entirely dead but just doesn’t know it yet. - Their other arm is around Bread, who has suffered a massive - wound to the chest and is only slightly more alive than the - hotelier. On the ground between Confidence’s legs is the - Ginnarak Crystal. Several loose pages are stuck to its sides, - held in place by drying blood and ectoplasm.

    -

    Confidence looks at you and smiles wearily. “We left a - trail for you. It was Bread’s idea. They were a good - guide.”

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

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    - ]]> -     -     - - 44 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 44 - Tue, 20 Dec 2022 08:47:08 --0700 - Tue, 20 Dec 2022 08:47:11 -0700 - - 00044 -
    -

    As Alex spots the sunspoke valve he grabs it and cranks it - up to the 2/3 mark. “Sorry little friend, we’re going to need - a little bit more juice”. The baloon lurches upwards as air - rushes in feeding the sunspoke, causing it to burn more - intensely. After setting the sunspoke ablaze and shouting back - to the balloon’s owner Alex takes account of his surroundings. - It’s during this time he spots the bloodied, moving blankets. - They seem to writhe, as though something beneath them is - injured.

    -

    Gripping the dagger firmly in one hand Alex grabs the - blankets from the corner of the balloon basket revealing - whatever lay beneath.

    -
    -

    The sunspoke stretches its little arms and wriggles its - little fingers. It sighs happily, luxuriating in the extra - fuel. It burns twice as bright, shooting a hot jet of bright - yellow flame up into the parachute. The sunspoke starts to - glow a molten red, and you start to rise faster.

    -

    As you rise up over the peak, you can finally spot the - Runesocesius. The grand hotel is draped over the top of the - mountain, clinging to it like a dragon resting on its - hoard.

    -

    The “cyberplasms” as Confidence called them have docked to - the side of a tower on the other side of the peak from you. - They have shot a large hole in the side of the tower, and you - can see them now starting to zipline into the building. A - thick plume of black smoke billows out of the side of the - tower, carrying pages and pages of loose paper into the air - with it. They rain down like snow. The tower must house an - extensive library.

    -

    You cautiously pull back a corner of the bloody blankets, - jeweled dagger raised and ready to strike. You reveal a small - bloody furry blob. You see two big round eyes, a short-snouted - face, and enormous pointed ears. It quickly looks away from - you, chirps pathetically, and trembles as it cowers in place. - You have found a frightened hemogoblin stowaway!

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

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    - ]]> -     -     - - 49 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 49 - Thu, 29 Dec 2022 18:55:34 --0700 - Fri, 30 Dec 2022 08:12:55 -0700 - - 00049 -
    -

    “They are a good guide,” Inky corrects adamantly. - “Do you hear that, Bread? You’re not allowed to disappear - until you’ve had an entire bag of these croutons, and even - then you’re still not allowed. If I’d known you’d never had - croutons before I wouldn’t have let you walk a step further - into that hall. That was simultaneously the worst and best - idea ever. Mango! Croutons! What a travesty. Did you even - taste any of it? No? You have to! How can you offer guests - delicious fondue without croutons? Speaking of which, we - haven’t gotten that fondue you promised yet, that’s reason - #144 you can’t disappear. What’s reason #143? Crostinis. Small - toasted bread. Slice of life. You can put cheese on it too, if - you really must …”

    -

    And so on. While Inky talks at Bread in a bid to keep them - conscious, they whisk out a first-aid kit from their courier - bag and kneeling on the floor, proceeds to stem the bleeding - from the chest wound with coagulant-coated bandages. Slowly, - they tip a flask of tea infused with some restorative herbs - down Bread’s open mouth, careful not to pour too quickly. Inky - pauses mid-diatribe and mid-pour to thrust another flask of - tea into Confidence’s hand, the one wrapped four-fifths of the - hotelier and ask, “Are you injured? Please keep an eye on your - companion, I will summon for assistance.”

    -

    Standing up, Inky walks to a window, opens it and peers - out. They look around for a hot air balloon and notice the - unmoored airship. After squinting at it with a mini-spyglass, - they see Alex standing at the helm of the ship with a young - hemogoblin on board. Inky waves, and makes a vertical cross - sign with a fist and thumb on the opposite upper arm a few - times. Next, they pull out a small tin whistle, and toot a few - sharp notes in the same cadence as the one-liner directed at - Bread earlier by the gondola station. After a moment, a scops - owl swoops in to land on the windowsill. Inky inserts a rolled - piece of paper into a small pouch hanging at the bird’s back, - and the bird flies off again.

    -

    Returning to the figures slumped against the wall, Inky - places the Ginnarak crystal in a lightly padded cloth bag, - stowing it away in their knapsack-style backpack. They resume - checking and tending to the toques’ injuries, while expounding - upon various permutations of toasted bread to a captive - audience.

    -
    -

    Bread closes their eyes and smiles dreamily at the - descriptions of various breads. They weakly sip the tea as you - tip it into their mouth and swallow with effort.

    - -

    They sigh and open their eyes. They focus on you and - maintain eye contact as you draw from a seemingly bottomless - well of knowledge on the topic of toasted breads. Bread and - life are clinging fast to each other, neither ready or willing - to let go of the other. They are going to be okay.

    -

    Confidence’s wounds are superficial. They are winded from - dragging Bread and the hotelier up seven flights of stairs. - But they are fine.

    -

    The hotelier’s wounds are sadly quite fatal. Honestly it - was all over for him the moment he took the full force of the - captain’s plasma canon to his chest. He babbles, “It’s not … I - wasn’t …” And then with sudden realization and quiet - resignation, a clear-eyed, “Oh.” And then he is gone.

    -

    His courage in the face of danger is the reason you now - have the third of the five Ginnarak Crystals in your pack. - Whether or not his death was in vain is now largely up to you - and what you decide to do with the crystal.

    -

    ~

    -

    Downstairs in the Great Hall of the library, one of the - remaining Cyberplasms crouches down next to the inert - cybernetic eye that until very recently belonged to their - captain. They pick it up and turn it over in their hand. - “Worry not, my captain,” the ghost mourns. “We will find the - quintessence. And once we do, we will be made anew in the - forge of our Mother.”

    -

    He rolls the orb in palm of his hand. A faint arc of energy - crackles across its surface. And the eye rolls over of its own - volition and looks up at the pirate.

    -

    Suddenly reverent, the pirate gently places the eye on the - ground as a ghostly face begins to form around it. The pirate - waits patiently, attentively. It’s not every day one gets to - bare witness to a new birth. The ectoplasm that gathers around - the eye forms a rail-thin body. Its head is bald and its face - sports a neatly trimmed mustache. It is missing an arm and a - leg.

    -

    Dutifully, the witness fetches a recently discarded arm - canon and leg booster. The exotica tap into the energy - provided by a new crossing over, and come online, and create a - new mesh.

    -

    The hotelier stands and looks down at its new body. As it - were. It looks around at its surroundings. It picks up a few - books and starts shelving them.

    -

    The pirate, mostly wishing to provide companionship and - comfort to the new ghost, assists with tidying up.

    -

    ~

    -

    Alex, you are at the helm of the balloon-ship. As you start - to drift slightly up and away, the blue dome of the hotel - comes into view. On its peak you can see a life-sized statue - of a stern-faced Runesocesius wielding a spear, drawn back as - though ready to hurl an angry thunderbolt down at the world - below.

    -

    The hemogoblin is still down on the deck by the canons. You - see it waving cheerily at the library tower. You squint in - that direction, but can’t see what has caught its - attention.

    -

    A small tufted-ear owl silently lands next to you breaking - you from your reverie. The owl is wearing a small harness with - a pouch at the back. Inside the pouch is a rolled piece of - paper signed by Inky, up on the seventh floor of the - tower.

    -

    You count seven windows up the side of the tower from its - base. There seems to be some movement inside, but you can’t - make much out from here. With a lucky shot, you think you - might be able to hook the window frame with a zipline.

    -

    ~

    -

    Outside, a pink zephynos is spinning raw cloud into a - minuscule opera house and performing arts center under the - direction of an amber imp with a new hunger for life. It is an - organic looking structure: a primary concert hall, surrounded - by a number of smaller stages and performance areas spiraling - out from the center like a nautilus shell.

    -

    The imp smiles happily, proudly. What tales will be told - here! What songs will be sung! “Lorehold,” it whispers to - itself. “You will tell the world’s stories.”

    -

    It is already trying out lines in its head, imagining the - play it will write of this day. About the hotel and the - library and the pirates and the cloud dragons. About a pair of - adventurers. And a very brave and lucky drone pilot that dared - to chase its dreams.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

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    - ]]> -     -     - - 42 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 42 - Sat, 17 Dec 2022 08:01:41 --0700 - Sat, 17 Dec 2022 08:01:48 -0700 - - 00042 -
    -

    This seems a bit strange. Certainly Blavin has been pulling - strings from behind the scenes the whole time, but why - coordinate a special escort for us when there are other - retrieval teams, and we’ve been less than amicable with the - bloke the entire time.. Alex thinks to himself.

    -

    DM: I’d like to check for any signs of deceit in the - toques demeanor or communcations with us

    -

    Confidence you said right? What would you do if I simply - chose not to accompany you? I mean, there’s a whole city - around us, perhaps I’d prefer a drink before climbing a - mountains worth of stairs. Or better yet, I could get back on - the boat and ride to the top and same myself the hassle.

    -
    -

    Bread once again looks confused. Confidence looks - surprised, caught off guard.

    - -

    Confidence sputters, “Well, yes, of course. You’ve been - traveling for some time now, haven’t you? I can assure you - that the food and drink at Runesocesius will be better than - anything you can get here! But the choice is entirely yours. - Feel free to avail yourself of the local offerings. We will - wait here at the steps for you.”

    -

    Bread nods slowly, and seems to trailing behind the - conversation just a second or two.

    -

    Their reactions seem genuine to you despite the - circumstances. They seem like a couple of low level employees - of a luxury hotel earnestly trying to follow the instructions - they’ve been given.

    -

    There are a couple of stalls and vendors set up around the - gondola station. Many of them serve mulled wine and hot - chocolate. There is some edible fare. Hot sandwiches and - pitas. Nothing that an empanada from Enrique’s wouldn’t put to - shame. But they look hot and steamy, and of great comfort to - anybody who might be hungry and cold. There are a few fire - pits, next to which there are long benches with blankets, - where you might sit and warm up for a bit.

    -

    The gondola lift ends here, and does not continue up to the - mountain any further. The cloud steps are the most common way - to get up to the peak, and to the Runesocesius. But you’re - pretty sure one or two of the stalls here offers balloon rides - up to the peak for thrill seekers and for those with - accessibility needs.

    -
    -

    “I think you already know I’m interested in neither bread - nor cheese, the second of which I certainly did not ask for - yet you tried to offer in your hasty pretence.” Inky smiles - thinly at the toques.

    -

    Taking out a small bag of gold coins and weighing it slowly - on one hand to the sound of coins clinking inside the pouch, - Inky continues, “Speak, answer our questions frankly and you - will be rewarded. The hotelier up there need not know. Breathe - a word of our little chat to another soul, however …” Inky’s - gaze cut briefly to four snow ravens perched atop a spiral - lamp post and back, “and you will learn the meaning of - disappearing without a trace.”

    -
    -

    Bread looks confused. You are starting to believe it is - their default expression. “So, you don’t want no - chee—”

    -

    “Our only desire is to help!” Confidence hastily - interrupts. He smiles pleasingly. “We are your guides! Not - just physically up the steps, but in all things here on Kelsun - Peak. You have but to ask, and if it is within our power to - give it, it will be yours! We are but humble ser—”

    -

    And just then Confidence is also suddenly interrupted. A - thundering boom like a canon sounds from somewhere nearby, - followed quickly by an explosion somewhere up above. Snow - ravens fly off in all directions in a panic. The sound ripples - through the mountaintop, rattling the ground on which you - stand. A bunch of small rocks and two large boulders shake - loose from the mountainside. Shoppers and travelers shout and - duck for cover as they are pelted by the scree. One of the - large boulder bounces clear over the station and plummets down - the side of the mountain before disappearing into the cloud - ocean below. The second one falls straight toward the - platform. A vendor selling wreaths and candles dives out of - the way as his stall is crushed by the boulder. A bench is - toppled over, spilling its blankets into the fire pit, and - catches fire, quickly spreading to another nearby stall.

    -

    Bread looks up at the sky, confused. You see a thin line of - black smoke starting to rise up into the sky from over the - ridge where the Runesocesius lies. Confidence shouts, and you - see him pointing at the sea, where a balloonship is rising up - out of the cloud bank, sailing quickly toward you and the - summit of Kelsun Peak.

    -

    It resembles a seafaring ship, but instead of masts and - sails, it has two large, colorful, patchwork balloons that - provide it lift. A large fan on a pivot at the rear of the - ship provides thrust. As you watch, it fires a second - canon—that is what the sound was!—nearly straight up, - arcing up and over the peak at Palace Runesocesius.

    -

    The crew of the ship bustle around on the deck of the ship, - reloading the canons, firing the balloons, shouting, giving - and following orders.

    -

    “Cyberplasms,” groans Confidence, and Bread whimpers. Alex, - that quiet, dull, static roar that has been constantly - tickling the back of your head ever since you found that - dagger seems to rise in pitch and in tone. It conveys a sense - of urgency, of warning. You can almost hear a - desperate voice behind the static fuzz cautioning you, - “Evil…”

    -

    The only corporeal element of the crew are their cybernetic - enhancements. A mechanical leg. A synthetic eye. A claw, a - hook, a hand. An arm canon. Almost all of them have more than - one, some as many as 3 or 5. The cybernetic pieces of each - individual crew member are held together by plasmic energy - arcs, crackling blue and green. And surrounding the bioware - and the plasmic arcs of each crew member, like a blanket or a - cocoon, is the translucent, wavering, ghostly form of some - humanoid long-dead.

    -

    The figure standing on the deck surveying the work of the - rest of the crew—presumably the captain—has a synthetic eye - rotating freely, 360 degrees in all directions, inside its - skull-like head; a bulky arm canon; and a thin robotic leg - terminating in a thick boot. Plasmic blasts arc through its - core, sometimes disrupting and glitching its ghostly body.

    -

    The captain raises its arm canon and shouts to the crew. - Its voice carried on the breeze sounds like something - otherworldly rising slowly from the murky deep. “Fire the - canon, boys! And fire up the balloons! Drop the ballast! That - crystal is ours!”

    -

    It happens very quickly: the ship ascends to the summit and - soon is firing grappling hooks at it to pull themselves in and - breach the walls of the hotel.

    -

    Bread looks at you, wide-eyed and trembling. They let loose - a pitiful wail and turn and start running up the steps. - “Bread!” Confidence yells after them. They cast a backward - glance at you. “I’ve got to help Bread! We’ve got to save the - hotel!” And they give chase to their fellow toque, bounding up - the cloudstuff steps.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

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    - ]]> -     -     - - 50 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 50 - Sat, 31 Dec 2022 10:33:06 --0700 - Sat, 31 Dec 2022 10:33:07 -0700 - - 00050 -
    -

    Meta: I look forward to reading the A.I.’s play once it’s - written, we should go back and write the sequence of events - for this segment from their perspective in play form at some - point.

    -

    Alex gingerly takes the note from the owl and reads it - quickly. “I guess my S.T.A.G. got to Inky after all.” Eyeing - the tower and cutting up the windows, it looks like maybe I’d - get a shot in from the zip line. But it’s iffy.

    -

    Alex grabs the wheel and guides the balloonship slowly up a - few levels. From that vantage point it should only be 3-4 - levels between the ship and I.

    -

    After getting the ship in place he grabs a zip line canon - and launches it at one of the windows on the 7th floor, - sinking the anchor firmly beneath the window.

    -

    Now to signal Inky… Alex rummages around the ship, finding - both a signal flare gun and flares in the cargo hold, at least - the pirates were prepared for the worst. Taking aim away from - the Balloon Sails, Alex fires the flare up into the air - creating a dazingly and bright signal in the sky.

    -
    -

    You fire the zipline and the hemogoblin cheers adorably. - The spear pierces the stone right beneath the 7th floor - window, and the hooks extend and foam, cementing the line in - place.

    -

    In a locker on the side of the ship you find a few signal - flares. You point them away from the balloons and fire into - the sky. The flares explode brilliantly and hang dazzling in - the sky before slowly drifting downward.

    -

    A pair of zephynos swim over, attracted by the brilliant - sparkling lights. They excitedly bat at the air with their - hands and turn somersaults. They pull at some clouds and - squeeze them into dozens of abstract forms inspired by the - bursts. They toss them back and forth playfully and soon the - boulders are drifting around listlessly overhead.

    -

    Below, almost all of the Cyberplasms have noticed by now - that their ship has been stolen. Several crowd into the hole - in the wall and shout and shake their fists at you.

    -

    You hear a low chirrup behind you and turn to see the - hemogoblin standing in the middle of the deck. Somehow in all - the commotion it has managed to get its tiny little hands on - the ruby-hilted dagger. It grips the hilt tightly in both - hands and gazes in wide-eyed wonder at the gem, utterly - captivated, back turned to the fireworks. The hemogoblin and - the blade are absolutely dripping with rivers of blood. A - decent sized pool has already formed at its feet.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

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    - ]]> -     -     - - 41 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 41 - Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:38 --0700 - Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:44 -0700 - - 00041 -
    -

    Alex grips the encoded message he received in reply to his - last request firmly in his coat pocket. It was simple, curt, - impactful. “Trust no one”. Which begged the question, could - even it be trusted? Was HQ compromised? His informants in - danger? His allies and leads awash in the dark grey mist of - uncertainity. Or had his message been intercepted, cracked, - and a farsical response been sent in its place. Alex wasn’t - certain which, but the strange format and unusually speedy - response had him on edge.

    -

    This anxiety didn’t boil up to the surface, not a line of - worry or hint of the inner turbulence broke his cold blue - eyes. Outwardly he was just as composed as ever, but between - these uncertainties, the loss of his uncle, and now this - utterly strange dagger he’d found amongst his uncle’s - belongings, he wasn’t certain how long that composure would - last. It didn’t held that he felt this gnawing at the back of - his mind, as though something was probing, attempting to - communicate with him, somewhere between telepathy and utter - magic, and not in any sense that Alex understood.

    -

    And here he stood, a stranger amongst amidst his uncle’s - allies, and very little intention to change that situation at - the moment.

    -

    As the gondola touched down and the Toques rushed to greet - them Alex jumped blithely off the ship and onto firm, but - fluffy, ground. He cast a look around him at what appeared to - be an ordinary port of entry, noting the crowds of people - passing by. As the Toques arrived Alex spoke curtly to them, - “Who sends you to greet us, and where do you wish to take us, - and by what means do we travel?”. Short, cut, information - only. There’s too much unnerving in an unknown situation like - this.

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    Inky greets the toques in turn politely, then turns to the - second toque and says, “A little bit of bread and no - cheese.”

    -
    -

    “Cheese?” Bread cocks their head looks at Inky with a touch - of embarrassment. They start patting at their pockets, - presumably looking for a morsel of cheese to share with the - travelers, but finding none. They groan miserably. Confidence - butts in apologetically, “There will be plenty of food at the - hotel if you want some! Some delicious fondue perhaps? Kelsun - Peak’s famous liquid gold!”

    -

    “Blavin Blandfoot arranged for us to meet you,” Bread - answers Alex. Confidence nods enthusiastically in agreement. - “But I suppose technically the hotelier sent us.” Bread points - up at the sky, in the general direction of the summit of - Kelsun Peak. “We are to escort you to Palace Runesocesius.” - They thumb over their shoulder in the general direction of the - stairs. “By way of the cloud steps. On foot.”

    -

    Confidence leans in close and lowers their voice. “A - Ginnarak Crystal! I can’t hardly believe it! Thought they had - all been lost to the ages. I hear it’s complete dumb random - luck that this one turned up. Story is, an aetherwael beached - itself on some wide zephynos boulevard. Happens sometimes. - Poor things can’t distinguish between clouds and cloudstuff. I - don’t blame ’em! At a distance, you and me can’t either! - Anyway, this aetherwael has got a harpoon stuck in its side. - Dratted poachers. May they all fall out of the sky and be - dashed to a thousand pieces on the rocks below. But it had a - harpoon in its side and was trailing behind it a float bag - tethered to the harpoon. And you probably already guessed what - was inside of it!” By the time Confidence finishes their brief - story, they are trembling and nearly breathless with - excitement.

    -

    “Anyway,” Bread interrupts their excited companion in an - attempt to restore decorum. Both of the toques have been - gently herding you toward the base of the stairs this whole - time. “You know how the zephynos are. You could give them all - the coin in Basmentaria, or something priceless like a - Ginnarak Crystal, and they’d just as quickly misplace it out - of carelessness. If it’s not a cloud they can sculpt into the - shape of seussomorph or the likeness of some fantasy creature, - they just don’t give a fig. Luckily the hotelier caught wind - of the aetherwael and found out about the crystal before they - managed to lose it, or bury it inside of a sculpture or - something silly! He has it safe and sound in the library up at - Runesocesius now.” Bread climbs the first step, his foot - sinking barely a centimeter into wispy cloud before striking - the solid cloudstuff. “Come! The hotelier will be very excited - to greet you!”

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

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    - ]]> -     -     - - 40 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 40 - Sun, 27 Nov 2022 01:30:42 --0700 - Wed, 14 Dec 2022 05:41:15 -0700 - - 00040 -
    -

    As Blavin finished his afterthought about handing over the - crystal, a yelp was the only warning they heard before a young - waiter was suddenly half-sprawled over the hobbit, a tray of - ginger beers toppled from his hand and the mugs’ contents - splashed onto the hobbit’s front, though fortunately some of - it ended up in a large puddle on the ground rather than on - Blavin’s person. The waiter had tripped over a bag on the - floor on his way to the table two over from theirs and was - scrambling to his feet.

    -

    “By Nullar’s nuts, I— OH SH——!! S-s-sorry, sir! Hold on, - l-lemme get— uh—” the waiter looked around frantically. The - waitress who had brought their drinks rushed over with some - clean dry towels, a few of which she handed to the other - waiter, and they both proceeded to wipe and dab at Blavin’s - damp clothes amid the hapless waiter’s babbled apologies. - Under the cover of the towels, the waitress patted down the - hobbit’s vest and replaced the sheaf of papers she had - covertly lifted from one of the vest pockets earlier with a - beguiling smile and wink. Once the beer on the floor had been - cleaned up (the despondent young waiter had offered to pay for - Blavin’s next two rounds of drinks) and the waiters had moved - on to serve other customers, Inky spoke.

    -

    “You don’t mind that we prefer to deliver it to the - Benefactor personally, of course,” Inky piped cheerily, - referring to the crystal. “The late wizard thought it was - prudent to cover our bases since you’re a new, untested case - manager after all. Besides, a little delayed gratification - never hurt anybody, did it?” Inky smiled and raised their - drink. “Another toast in tribute to Master Corraidhín! May his - courage and buoyant spirit guide us on our next mission!”

    -

    ~

    -

    When Inky stepped out of the tavern and was a few paces - away, someone clattered through the door and called out, “Hey! - You forgot your takeout!”

    -

    Inky turned in the direction of the voice. It was the - waitress who had served their table earlier. She waved a brown - paper bag in one hand. Inky gave her an embarrassed smile and - said, “Thanks.” As the bag changed hands, the waitress mouthed - soundlessly, We’ll report any more. She went back - inside, and Inky strolled off into the cool night air with the - bag securely tucked away next to a tea pouch and a more - pressing question: what blend would go best with fried - tofurkey balls?

    -

    ~

    -

    (Meanwhile)

    -

    “The BANDit and his associates had gone to the tavern.” His - assistant looked up from the scrap of paper held under a - claw.

    -

    Beaker heaved a sigh and rubbed the tips of one wing - against his forehead. Surely he had better things to do than - play Eye Spy over a bunch of crackpots, such as peer reviewing - the latest draft of a paper on the development of Cerylidian - hunting techniques for an upcoming issue of The - Ichnition. But Cio seemed to think something may come of - it and unfortunately, she was usually right about - troublemakers.

    -

    “Tell them to continue tailing from a distance,” he replied - with a distracted wave, and his assistant left the room.

    -

    Anyway, if he had the spare time, he could look at more - interesting things, like the data he had collected surrounding - the disappearance of the time anomaly that had popped up a few - weeks ago. It had happened gradually, and he still wasn’t - entirely sure what had caused this particular incident, but - the signals picked up by his instruments had later faded, just - like other ones before it. Still, it was comparatively larger - than previous ones, and seemed to have taken slightly longer - to dissipate, which meant more data points.

    -

    He stole another glance at his Dat repositories before - sighing again, swivelling his chair and attention back to the - manuscript before him. Work first … then more work.

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    The party dispersed after the discussion with Blavin. - Nobody had wanted to relinquish the crystal to him, personally - Alex felt that was prudent, though he still wasn’t sure what - the point of it all was. The foolish hobbit had blathered on - and on about their “mark” tactfully ignoring the real - questions. And then the bug, damn it, the bug that chittered - on about absolutely nothing for hours. It didn’t take Alex too - long to figure out why, but he clung to the transmission until - it died out hoping he’d be mistaken.

    -

    So there he sat, in the attic of his once Uncle, staring - bleakly into a cup of dark black coffee. The desk strewn with - hastily scratched notes pulled from the bugs feeds. At least - the one that had tracked that nosey group had proved somewhat - helpful. Turns out this little group has less friends than a - drunk who’s run up their tab.

    -

    Still, there’s no point to share any of this information. - It’s too loose, not definitive enough to action with the - group.

    -

    Alex begins to pen a message to an fellow operative, in - hopes that HQ will pick it up and assign someone to the - task.

    - 
    <- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A
--> OP 25120 * LOC ESPER
-
-CLEARANCE: SECRET
-PACKET ENCLOSED. YOUR EYES ONLY.
-
-REQUESTING DETAIL ON BLAVIN
-EMPLOY OF "THE BENEFACTOR"
-PERCEPTIVE, AWARE OF BUGS.
-DO NOT CONTACT, DO NOT DISRUPT
-EXTREME CAUTION IMPERATIVE.
    -

    Once penned Alex encrypts it with GPG and sends it along. - These channels have worked well for him in the past. If Blavin - wants to play games, then games we shall have.

    -

    “I hate to do this” Alex mumbles to himself. “Normally I’d - trail him myself, but I don’t think I have much say in the - matter.” As it stands the group is dead set on gathering more - of these cyrstals, regardless of what the danger may be, and - if Alex wants to find his Uncle, they’re his best bet in doing - so. Blavin doesn’t even matter outside of that. But if he can - help the group reach their end faster, or force the - information out of Blavin, perhaps it can come sooner..

    -

    Alex lets out another sigh and glances wistfully around the - gloomy attic room. It looked just like he remembered his - Uncle’s office looking like at the College of Sysorcerery when - he had taught there. He always was so particular. Pushing his - chair away and grabbing his coffee he wanders to the bookshelf - where a large steamer chest sits beside it. The bookshelf is - covered in manuscripts, “Practical Common Lisp”, “The C - Programming Language Vol 2”, “RHEL 5 Systems Administration”, - each one arcane and well worn. And the amount of volumes, - sometimes it’s a wonder Corraidhin had time to do anything - other than read.

    -

    “Maybe if I had been a little more studious I’d know how to - help you..” as he pulls “A Guide to Backups and All Things - Necessary” off of the shelf a knife falls out of the book, and - clatters onto the floor glaring malevolently up at Alex.

    -
    -

    Your gondola lift finally rises above the thick layer of - clouds. The sudden flash of clear blue sky is a revelation - after ascending for nearly 60 minutes through clouds so thick - you couldn’t see through the foggy windows more than three - feet. Above you towers rocky, imposing Kelsun Peak. You can - just see a tiny portion of the hotel roof through a cleft in - the rocks. Below you, a frozen turbulent ocean of clouds - dotted with twisting leaning spires and spiraling branching - towers, all made out of solid cloudstuff. Handiwork of the - whimsical and industrious zephynos.

    -

    You spot two or three of them now, leaping and diving - playfully through the clouds like dolphins, spinning the - clouds like yarn, and packing them into solid constructs. - Their current project resembles a garden of outlandish, - distorted tubas, french horns, and trombones.

    -

    The small cloud dragons are about 6 - 8 feet long including - their thick tails. They have wide faces with round lidless - eyes, and always seem to be smiling. Their heads are topped - with multiple pairs of filamented stalks. They have six short, - stubby arms with long thin fingers that they use to knead and - pull clouds into solid shapes.

    -

    They build ceaselessly and mostly for the sake of building: - they have no apparent need for the structures themselves, - living as they do floating among the clouds. On occasion they - have been entreated to build on behalf of others. And the rare - floating palace or city can still be found drifting around - Basmentaria as a result. The great city of Vay’Neddas—tethered - to the ground by great chains to Primora in the north and - Agendell in the south—is one of their greatest enduring - works.

    -

    You approach the gondola station at the base of Kelsun - Peak, and exit your cable car as it slowly rounds the - bullwheel. There are two toques—presumably meant to be - operating the lifts—standing off to the side, ignoring their - responsibilities, complaining loudly to nobody and everybody - about being forced to work long hours and being unfairly - compensated. The tips of their soft, conical heads slump - forward, calling to mind revolutionaries, or smurfs.

    -

    It is wicked cold as you step out onto the platform and the - wind nips and bites at you relentlessly.

    -

    At the edge of the platform, foggy white steps made of firm - cloudstuff climb up around the side of the mountain peak to - the Palace Runesocesius. Once the conspicuously extravagant - residence of one of Basmentaria’s most powerful politicians, - it has since—after its owner fell from public favor and was - routed out—been gutted and transformed into a luxury hotel of - equally conspicuous extravagance. It continues to be one of - the highest inhabitable places on Basmentaria.

    -

    Two small toques at the base of the steps rush forward to - meet you—the floppy tips of their coneheads waggling side to - side in their exuberance—and introduce themselves as - Confidence and Bread, your guides. They have been instructed - to guide you up to Runesocesius where you will take posession - of the Ginnarak Crystal.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

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    - ]]> -     -     - - 45 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 45 - Tue, 20 Dec 2022 10:15:23 --0700 - Thu, 22 Dec 2022 09:29:11 -0700 - - 00045 -
    -

    As the blankets draw back from the bloody mass, a cute - little hemogoblin appears. “Aww little fellas just scared.” - Alex lowers the dagger, but otherwise ignores the hemogoblin. - Best to leave it be for now, there’s more important - things.

    -

    As the balloon gets within range of the ship Alex begins to - scan the deck for Cyberplasms. At the same time he checks his - bug to track the location of the cyberplasms more acutely. It - looks like there may be an opporunity to jump from the balloon - to the ship. After that cutting the zip lines would give me - the opporunity to steal the ship, leaving the cyberplasms - trapped at the top of the hotel.

    -
    -

    Just a few Cyberplasms remain on the deck of the airship. - The vast majority of them have zipped into the hotel - tower.

    -

    You check your bug’s feed. It has gone almost entirely - unnoticed in the fracas, and you are able to piece together a - clear picture of the inside of the tower. It is indeed a grand - library, its galleries spanning each floor of the tower. One - of the largest collections in all of Basmentaria.

    -

    The Cyberplasms have breached the tower near its base and - are pouring into the Great Hall. You tune in just in time to - see a rail-thin, bald and mustachioed man standing defensively - in front of a display case. “No! You can’t!” he exclaims as a - disembodied sickle approaches him in a cloud of electricity - and ectoplasm.

    -

    Behind the glass in the display case is a bluish hunk of - rock the size of a melon, with gently pulsing gold veins.

    -
    -

    Inky puts away the papers they caught in passing or picked - up along the path up to read later, including a number that - from a cursory glance appear to be from a culinary collection - and a few from some moth-eaten but finely illustrated - botanical tome, among others.

    -

    Eventually arriving at the hotel entrance, Inky enters and - manages to catch a frantic-looking attendant near the - reception to ask the whereabouts of the hotelier, indicating - they had a business appointment with said manager.

    -
    -

    You walk in through the hotel’s main entrance. The grandeur - would take your breath away were it not for the shouting and - the smoke and the explosions coming from down the hall to your - right.

    -

    You wave down a passing hotel clerk and inquire after the - hotelier. They are hauling a large bucket of hot water, and - carrying an oversized bundle of clean towels under one arm. - They pause for a moment to look at you incredulously before - running off in the opposite direction.

    -

    A cry rings out nearby and a Cyberplasm flies through an - open door down the hallway. It lands in a heap of crackling - energy, smears of ectoplasm streaking the floor as though it - were bleeding heavily. It seems to be barely held together by - the energy stored in its cybernetic leg and a metal skull - plate.

    -

    It scoots backwards on its hands and its butt, trying to - stand up. Two toques leap out of the door after it. You - recognize Bread and Confidence right away.

    -

    Bread has obviously been to the kitchens. They are wearing - tin baking sheets and an oversized pot on their heard as - makeshift armor, and have a couple of dangerous looking - kitchen knives hanging from their belt. At the moment they are - swinging a large meat tenderizer over their head as though it - were a war hammer.

    -

    Confidence, meanwhile, has been to the gardener’s shed. - They are wearing a heavy leather apron and thick leather - gloves, and have a trowel in each hand, and a large hoe or - rake strapped to their back.

    -

    Bread lowers their hammer on Cyberplasms head, denting the - skull plate. And Confidence darts in and stabs with both hands - at the leg. As soon as the prosthetics go offline and the - plasmic arcs cease firing, there is nothing left holding the - ectoplasm together and the ghost kind of dissipates into the - air with a soft wail.

    -

    They look up and notice you at the same time, relaxing - their offensive stances. “Oh!” cries Bread. “It’s you!”

    -

    “You don’t happen,” asks Confidence, “to need a guide, do - you?”

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

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    - ]]> -     -     - - 38 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 38 - Mon, 14 Nov 2022 18:30:25 --0700 - Mon, 14 Nov 2022 18:30:35 -0700 - - 00038 -
    -

    The mission, party-wise, had been an abject failure.

    -

    They had found the crystal, and Master Corraidhín had - vanished. Inky wasn’t sure which was worse — the appalling - lack of water-resistant fireworks surrounding the - disappearance, or the bears’ ceaseless waterworks in grief - over their ghostly counterparts. Said bears plus a giant manta - ray were eventually left with the remains of Inky’s two snack - stashes. (The third was back on the Diamond Howler.) - The crystal was currently securely hidden away inside the Milk - Market, which was for the best. Inky was not about to drag - around an inedible melon that could potentially level entire - cities, if the wizard’s hints about its power were true. The - crystal-retrieval missions were a cover anyway — Inky had - gotten what they were looking for. The equipment and - provisions sponsored by the Benefactor were a handy bonus - though.

    -

    Inside the tent, Inky adds the finishing flourishes to a - package and places it to one side, next to two others of a - similar size and a thin envelope already piled inside a padded - sack on the ground. The client should be pleased. It had taken - longer, but the result had been worth the additional hassle. - The envelope, on the other hand … who knew what had become of - the previous one, sent in an impulsive fit of post-dive haze - once the ship had docked at the port town. Donning a grey - fedora, a worn light brown jacket, a flask kettle and a wooden - box with carrying straps, Inky the “Tiny” tea seller leisurely - sets off for the post office, sack in hand.

    -

    It was still a bit strange — if less shocking than the - first time it happened — to speak in rabbiton with the - postmistress at the counter, although Inky couldn’t actually - detect any significant differences from the common tongue - besides occasionally being reminded they shouldn’t be able to - understand the sounds at all. Rabbiton or rabbitoff, hare mail - couriers are among the fastest across Basmentaria and will - ensure any parcels and letters arrive at their recipients in a - timely manner. Due to their broad network and high delivery - confidence, letters without return addresses were no issue; - they can deliver with a valid recipient address, which they - are able to verify from an extensive series of registries and - course codes before taking the item. So it was that one such - envelope containing yet another somewhat unusual recipe was - promptly delivered to the Milk Market’s ground floor on a - blustery Boltday afternoon.

    -

    Postage done, Inky wanders through one of the city’s - seedier districts, peddling cups of hot tea along the way. - This had become a daily routine for a little over a month - since the Sugrin Sea mission (longer and more sporadically - before that whenever the imp was in the city), including a - spontaneous fifteen-minute “Tiny Teatime” held in open areas - such as small parks, or occasionally in a back alley between - several crowded residences. The tea happening had initially - been a whimsical response to Teatime with Tanokuma - and still regularly attracted children when iced drinks were - served during the summertime.

    -

    Rows of slightly crooked houses sandwiched among acacia - trees line a narrow, winding lane. Inky passes the elderly - playing tabula surrounded by a small group of onlookers, - people chewing on sweet lemongrass or peeling vegetables, - hanging up laundry on colourful lines made of scrap rags, - children laughing and chasing soapy bubbles with wands - dripping from laundry water, and all sorts of activity that - made houses into homes. Many of them were frank about not - having any spare coins for extras like speciality teas brewed - “just like them shops”, but gladly accepted a steaming bamboo - cup upon realising they needn’t pay, if sometimes a little - suspiciously at first. Instead of coin, they held a rich font - of stories, local legends, folk remedies, cooking methods, - insider tip-offs and rumours, which they were often eager to - impart to an attentive audience.

    -

    Some of the passer-by were always in a hurry, downing the - tea as though it were a shot of hard liquor before retrieving - a handful of loose coins from a pocket or sock. When Inky - smiled and told them there was no charge, most would return a - puzzled look or uncertain smile, or roll their eyes, and drop - a copper coin into a slot on the lid of the box anyway. A few - had promptly walked off wordlessly with snickering faces, as - though they had gotten away with something clever. Regardless, - it was one of the best ways to see and observe a bustling - metropolis. No one took any particular notice of young urchins - and vendors selling refreshments, flowers and various trinkets - on the streets.

    -

    Likewise no one witnessed a tea seller pause near one of - the windows at the back of Enrique’s Empanada Emporium late in - the day. For a while they watch the chef within in action, - clearly in his element, before reluctantly pulling away and - retreating quietly up the stairs to the second floor. They - should wash up and see if their marketing manager is in the - mood for some takeout and Terrapin Ale this evening.

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    Background: Alex isn’t young, but in comparison to his - whizzened uncle Corraidhin he’s the depiction of youth. He has - jet black hair and alert blue eyes, and a quiet serenity about - him that gives one pause, as though he’s constantly - calculating. He gives into his passions quickly however, and - becomes rather animated when his emotions break loose. He’ll - be the first to curse his uncle for his foolish endeavors, - never quite understanding the sysorcerer’s way. Early in life, - after the death of his parents, Corraidhin took him under his - wing and tried in vain to teach him the ways of magical - systems administration. Much to Corraidhin, it only resulted - in damaged systems, and a rift with his nephew.

    -

    It took years to recover from that, but eventually the two - grew close again, though distant nonetheless. That closeness - reflects itself in the situation Alex finds himself in now, a - mysterious alert from some overly contrived magical system, - ruining his perfectly good winning streak. It’s not that he - was necessary bad at all of that stuff, it just, wasn’t as - much fun as gambling. And it certainly wasn’t as exhillerating - as writing malware.

    -

    Breaking into a system, smashing it to bites and pieces, - watching the carefully wrought design burn in amber and green, - now THAT was magic.

    -

    META: Alex is like Corraidhin in some aspects, he’s - younger, more brash, more given to whim and fancy. He’s - somewhat greedy and craven, attracted to riches far too - easily. He’s a passionate gambler, not due to his skill, but - by virtue of his ability to distract and confuse, which gives - him a delightful edge. Some would call it lucky, but he calls - it subterfuge. He has some sysorcerer skills, nothing quite as - flexible as Corraidhin, but he delightfully wreaks havoc with - worms, scrapers, ransom & spyware. If he can’t bypass - something, he’ll delightfully destroy it. If he can’t break - in, he’ll distract someone or something so he can slip by.

    -

    (Think rogue + illusion magic, where Corraidhin is straight - Wizard)

    -

    Introduction: Kev, just give it to me straight, the hell - does this Deadman’s trigger mean. You can’t have a service - like that flap, it’s a boolean, you’re either dead or your - not. And don’t try to lie to me, I’m not some project managing - schmuck, you know full and well Uncle Corraidhin taught me. I - know enough to tell when you’re lying.

    -

    (Kevin) Ah, well, umm. Yes I suppose that’s true. You can’t - be dead and not. It’s just not an option. But Zabbix doesn’t - lie! It’s what monitors your Uncle’s life force, the state of - his infrastructure so to speak. Look check your own, there’s - nothing to indicate any issue with you, but your uncle’s - fluxuates consistently. None of his other state checks are - failing though! So it could just be a problem with his - Deadman’s trigger code.

    -

    Absolutely not. Corraidhin might be a flighty fool, but - he’s not someone who would deploy faulty code to production. - There’s no way in hell it would get past his linter, let alone - all of the QA he does before it even gets that far. Look, what - the hell did you drag him into, you know exactly what he gets - up to, just point me in his direction so I can get this shit - over with.

    -

    (Kevin) Hmm, he didn’t really want me to talk about it, but - last I saw him, he was babbling on and on about some magical - Json sword or something. I couldn’t quite keep up with it.

    -

    You were trying to get him to buy into KDL again weren’t - you?

    -

    (Kevin) It’s a good language I swear, and if your uncle had - just.. (Alex cuts him off)

    -

    Hush it. What did the sword look like, where was he - headed?

    -

    (Kevin) sigh it was large, with a ruby hilt, and a - magical eye of some sort. I’m certain if you just ask around - you’ll find it. Just ask about the sysorcerer who mutters to - his sword, that’s how the poor bastard is remembered around - here these days.

    -

    With this information Alex departed the Sysorcerer’s guild - in search of his Uncle. As he asked around town, people shied - away. Nasty business talking about that one, they’d tell him. - A few mentioned something about an attack, and a dagger and - bloodlust the likes of which they’d only heard from the bard - at their local tavern. None of this sounded like the Uncle he - remembered, but he followed the trail until it lead him to the - Milk Maid.

    -

    As Alex checked around for someone, anyone who seemed to be - in the know, he spotted Inky, serving tea as she watched the - ongoings at the Empanada shop near the Milk Maid.

    -

    Excuse me, miss? You wouldn’t have happened to seen my - Uncle, he’s an old whizened fellow. Constantly harrumphs and - goes on and on endlessly about some magical script, or how - much he hates the School of Powershell. I haven’t been able to - find him, and I’ve been looking all over the city for the - better part of 3 days. Note even his best friend Kevin at the - Sysorcer’s guild knew where he was, and I’m just, I’m at a bit - of a loss..

    -

    sigh I’m sorry to just unload on your like that. - If you don’t know him that’s okay, I’d be happy to pay for a - cup of tea for your time.

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

    (Two days prior)

    -

    An office, barely illuminated by the glow of a moonstone - lamp.

    -

    An elf attired in red silk dress robes with a shimmering - pattern of butterflies, a red floral picture hat and matching - high heel boots lounged in the visitor’s chair in front of a - heavy wooden desk. The charms dangling from her wrist circlets - tinkled as she reached for a teacup. A silver tray was placed - to one side of the desk with a pot of maghrebi francus, two - porcelain cups and a bowl of sugar cubes. The remaining - surface was mostly covered by a map of Basmentaria, the - moonstone lamp and a short stack of books. Behind the desk sat - an imp in a midnight blue suit, a dart pen balanced on the - edge of two fingers of one hand, while the other tapped a - silent rhythm on the pineapple leather armrest.

    -

    The lady in dress robes spoke first. “I made some - inquiries. That sysorcerer acquaintance of yours seems to be - stuck in some sort of spatial-temporal loop. The anomalies are - usually salvageable given time and expert attention. His - nephew is out looking for him now.” She hands the imp a sheet - with a drawing of a pensive but bright-eyed young man with - dark hair, and several lines of notes below. “How are things - at your end?”

    -

    “The situation is tenable for the moment. One checked, - another disengaged. Between the wizard and bard, Blackfoot - will think twice before making any more untoward moves. One of - the waiters at the club said the bard gave him a little - dressing-down after the stabbing. He was practically shaking - in his boots by the end of it.”

    -

    The elf laughed. “I read your earlier missive. Slipping a - catalyst into a milk pudding to stir up a bloodthirsty sword? - I guess you were pretty sure the thirst wouldn’t get out of - hand and kill the hobbit outright.”

    -

    “Not entirely, but the good wizard would fight it with - considerable strength of will. That guild of his may be full - of white hats too busy with their petty squabbling over - semantics to see trouble looming until it smacked them in - their faces, but they have their principles and will not give - in easily when challenged.” The imp grimaced. “An unpleasant - matter but arguably a necessity. It was only a matter of time - before the cursed sword would find itself a target. May as - well put evil to good use.”

    -

    “You did what you had to do, Ink. And that sailor with the - gold eye?”

    -

    “Met with an unfortunate … accident. Securing the crystal - would have been sufficient, but the horkosgrampus weren’t - terribly impressed with him. The Benefactor should be - relieved. Men of their ilk would sooner sell to the highest - bidder.” The pen twirled in their hand once, twice, before - pausing with the nib pointing downward at a spot on the map. - The imp continued, “All the more reason to move as soon as the - young man finds his uncle. Kelsun Peak, most likely.”

    -

    “Right. I’ll let the others know if anything happens.” She - rose to her heels in a whisper of brocade silks. “Do you want - an antidote for … ?” She gestured with a slim, graceful hand - framed in delicate strands of the gold bracelets towards her - companion.

    -

    The imp inclined their head slightly in grateful - acknowledgement. “No need. The condition is relatively - harmless and reversing the effects now might raise suspicion. - The postmistress at the Hutcheon Lane branch of Leplus Post - was very tickled by it.”

    -

    “I see. So that’s how it is.” she replied with undisguised - mirth. The imp ignored her smirk. “Please see to it the - preparations are carried out. The fate of your beloved - operetta house may well depend upon it.”

    -

    “You would never!” The elven lady exclaimed in mock - affront. “No, I wouldn’t, even though it is the bane of all - fine glassware. However, if the crystals came to less - discerning hands …” They shared a solemn look before the elf - nodded and swept out of the room, leaving the cloying scent of - violets in her path.

    -

    ~

    -

    Inky gestures wordlessly for the young wizard to follow - them upstairs to the second floor of the Milk Market, heading - straight for the room at one end of a long hallway.

    -

    As Inky enters, their small and fluffy marketing manager - pops its head out of the wooden tub of water standing to one - side of the room. “We have a visitor!” Inky cheerfully tells - the duck. Their marketing manager looks back at them both and - says, “QUACK!”

    -

    Inky turns back to the young man with a smile. “Please have - a seat. How may we address you? Tea? No charge for Master - Corraidhín’s nephew, of course.”

    -

    Once seated on some cushions thrown over a slightly ratty - tartan rug and having poured out a steaming cup of mandarin - pekoe for each of them, Inky begins, “So, about your uncle. - The good news is, we know him. The bad news is, we knew him.” - They then proceed to recount the events of their latest - mission at the site of a shipwreck out in the Sugrin Sea, and - the elder sysorcerer’s disappearance.

    -
    -

    Prelude:

    -

    A fringe movement of lunatic paleornithologists and - crackpots of various other professions has slowly been gaining - traction over the last few decades. The movement was born when - the enterprising Modern Fuchsia, at the time a budding young - scientist on a dig yearning to make a name for himself, found - the fossil of a modern feathered bird—probably some kind of - swallow—alongside a theropod, that variety of dinosaur widely - accepted to be the ancestor of modern birds. Faced with what - he believed to be irrefutable evidence of a modern descendant - coexisting alongside its own ancient ancestor, Fuchsia arrived - at the only conclusion he was capable of making: Birds Are Not - Dinosaurs. And thus BAND came into being.

    -

    Ever since, Fuschia and his BANDits have spent considerable - amounts of time and energy attending conferences and - publishing papers, pouting and demanding to be taken seriously - by the wider scientific community. A community which, if it - pays them any attention at all, merely mocks and ridicules - their crackpot theories.

    -

    Modern Fuschia is of course wrong. But neither he nor his - BANDits know how dangerously close he came to the actual - truth.

    -

    For much, much deeper in the shadowy fringes of - paleornithology, there is a clandestine operation called BATT. - And only BATT knows the actual explanation for how a modern - descendant might coexist alongside its own ancestor. Birds Are - Time Travelers.

    -

    In the far future when birds are the dominant intelligent - life on Basmentaria, they do indeed invent time travel. The - end result was catastrophic and is the real reason that the - dinosaurs went extinct.

    -

    It is a common misconception that barn swallows are the - most common and widespread species of swallow. That - distinction in fact belongs to the time swallow. - Although—if you’re lucky—you’ll never actually see one. Since - the Incident, the secret agents of BATT have vowed never again - to interfere with or try to alter the time stream. Nor to - allow anyone else to. The time swallows are special bred, - special trained, appearing wherever and whenever an anomaly - appears to remove it and restore the proper timeline. The tiny - birds quite literally swallow, consume, and destroy anything - that meddles with time.

    -

    At their headquarters, in the present day, BATT Director - Purple Martin is delivering a report to his superior. Martin - has a throaty and rich voice of which he is self-conscious in - the presence of his superior’s persistent silence.

    -

    “We have successfully extracted the sysorcerer and have - repaired the anomaly. The subject is currently under the care - of Felixe and is expected to make a full recovery. In his - possession were a couple of interesting artifacts. One Class C - sentient object, a sword. And a piece of exotica of unknown - origin. Our researchers so far suspect that it is a sort of - reliquary containing both elemental and divine arcana. The - xot’s physical manifestation—a crystalline ore—thus far - prevents us from determining the precise identity of the - arcana.”

    -

    Director Purple Martin is delivering this report to a - lanky, thin man folded into an armchair. He wears thin, wire - spectacles with round lenses, and dangles a walking stick over - the arm of the chair as he sits. He interrupts Martin with a - rare utterance. “The reliquary. I shall like to see it.”

    -

    Now then:

    -

    Retrieval Team 43 welcomes Alex into their ranks even as - they mourn the loss of Corraidhín the Wizened.

    -

    It starts off as a somber affair at Lucy’s as you all sit - around your regular table, ensconced and wedged into a corner - surrounded on two sides by the red velvet curtains that line - the walls.

    -

    But then the hobbit joins you.

    -

    Blavin Blandfoot orders a round of drinks in tribute to - Corraidhín. And then another round of drinks to welcome his - nephew Alex. “A family affair, is it not!” And then another - round of drinks because he is thirsty.

    -

    The hobbit is in high spirits, brimming with flair and good - cheer. His arm is fully healed from the attack over a month - ago at this very table. His fond memories and frequent toasts - to the sysorcerer make no reference to the incident.

    -

    “The Benefactor is immensely pleased with your performance - so far!” He punches a new hole in your Frequent Retrieval - cards. “You are one step closer to winning a FABULOUS PRIZE! I - don’t mind telling you I’m a little jealous. Assuming you go - the distance, of course. I mean who doesn’t love hot dogs and - hot tubs!” He winks conspiratorially at you. “To say nothing - of actually getting to meet the Benefactor! Just imagine!”

    -

    After a few more drinks he eventually clears a space on the - table and rolls out a map of Basmentaria. “We once again have - two reports of a crystal spotting!” He jabs a finger at the - mountain range in northern Primora. “The first, as you know, - has been reported by the zephynos high atop Kelsun Peak.”

    -

    “The second,” his voice quivers with excitement. He looks - up at you wide-eyed and gestures away from the map into open - space. “Is on the moon!”

    -

    Seated a couple tables away from you is the same trio who - were present the last time you all met here: a dusty groll, a - matted gnu, and a curious Ornithologer. The observant among - you, if you happened to look, would notice that the - Ornithologer wears a pinkish purplish red armband with the - word BAND on it. They listen to your proceedings with great - interest while trying really hard to look like they’re not - listening. After Blavin’s final proclamation, the trio - finishes their drinks, stands, and starts to leave the dining - room.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -
      -
    • Do you give the second crystal to Blavin?
      • -
    • Do you choose to go to Kelsun Peak, or to the moon?
      • -
    • Who is the Lady in Red and what does she want?
      • -
    • Will Corraidhín recover in the care of Felixe?
      • -
    • Who does the Director of BATT report to and what do they - want with the 1st Crystal?
      • -
    • What’s the deal with the Ornithologer’s Trio?
      • -
    • Who left you the note signed with an iris and apple?
      • -
    -

    Find out next time on BASEMENT QUEST

    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     - - 51 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 51 - Sat, 31 Dec 2022 17:08:07 --0700 - Sat, 31 Dec 2022 17:08:07 -0700 - - 00051 -
    -

    As they wait for the balloonship to approach, Inky glances - to the prone remains of the hotelier on the floor and frowns. - There wasn’t much they could do about that now. It was really - inconvenient timing — he hadn’t received the papers yet. Inky - can already picture Cio’s unspoken but palpable disappointment - even as she offered reassurances that it was perfectly fine. - The gnawing guilt she could inflict with a look was worse than - a tenacious terrorier with a bone biscuit. Then Inky recalls - an urban legend from the elderly aunts they sometimes pass by - during teatimes, which claim that it was possible to send - messages and items to the deceased by burning the - articles.

    -

    Ducking momentarily behind another bookshelf, Inky removes - an envelope bearing the seal of a butterfly in red wax, drops - it into a recently-emptied shortbread tin and holds a lit - match to a corner of the paper. Before long the entire - envelope is consumed by the flames and the lid replaced - tightly over the tin. If the paperwork found its way to the - hotelier on the spiritual plane, that would be the formalities - completed. Or if it was reduced to ashes without ever reaching - the recipient, no one had to know.

    -

    Inky walks back to the window to see a flare light and a - zip line ending below the windowsill. They look to the other - end of the line, back to the toques, and around the room. - Their gaze lands on a few cloth covers draped over several - bookshelves near an alcove from top to bottom, possibly to - protect the manuscripts on the shelves from extended exposure - to dust and light. They tie a large red kerchief to the zip - line to indicate they had seen flare signal, before turning to - Confidence. “There’s an airship waiting outside with a zip - line. We should get Bread patched up by a healer in town. It - wouldn’t do to have them walk around like that, unless you - want to turn the hotel into a haunted house attraction.”

    -

    As they finish speaking, Inky pulls off three of the - covers, two iron spears and one of the two decorative flag - poles with flags featuring the crest of Runesocesius, and a - symbol (of the old town, Inky surmises) that stood in a nook - between the wall and a bookshelf. Crossing over to a wall - display of ceremonial chains and maces, they remove two of the - metal chains that hung on from hooks on the wall. Having - gathered the items, they retrieve two zip line harnesses, some - parachute cord and two additional pulley hooks from their - bag.

    -

    They lay the chains on the floor about two feet apart, - followed by the cloth sheets with their outer surfaces facing - down over them, and tie the corners at both ends to the flag - pole to form the base of a makeshift hammock. With - Confidence’s help, they slide Bread onto the sheets, being - cautious to avoid further jostling the toque’s injuries. Inky - wraps the ends of the chains around the flagpole, tying them - and the cloth bundle with loops of parachute cord, and sets - the pulley hooks to links on the top surface of the flag - pole.

    -

    Inky puts on a zip line harness and throws the spare one to - Confidence, directing them to do the same. With some - difficulty, they hoist the bundle of Bread to the window. Inky - descends first, hooking their harness pulley to the zip line - as they brace against the tower wall. As the bundle is slowly - lowered through the window, Inky connects the pulley hooks on - the metal chains to the zip line, Confidence bringing up the - rear while Inky holds the hammock steady.

    -

    While the zephynos play overhead, the three of them prepare - to slide down to the deck of the balloonship along the zip - line.

    -
    -

    Confidence and Inky, framing the Bread basket between them, - slide down the zipline to the balloonship. The zephynos frolic - up overhead, and the hole in the library wall gapes below. And - beyond that, the endless sea of clouds.

    -

    Inky, having descended the line first, makes it to the ship - ahead of Bread and Confidence. They clambor up over the side, - unhook themself, and reach for the corner of the hammock.

    -

    The 3rd Ginnarak Crystal is now on the deck of the - ship.

    -

    Looking up, Inky sees that two determined cyberplasms have - started following them out the library tower window. Neither - has a harness. One is hanging upside down on the cable, arms - and legs wrapped around it, and has managed to shimmy a couple - feet away from Runesocesius. The other has just swung out of - the window and is holding onto the line with their hands. They - are kicking their legs up over and over, trying to swing high - enough to lock their ankles around the cable.

    -

    In the time that it will take you to unhook the hammock and - get both Bread and Confidence onto the ship, the two pirates - will have closed most of the distance between you and might be - within striking distance.

    -

    Meanwhile on the deck of the ship, the hemogoblin is deeply - entranced by a private conversation it seems to be having with - the ruby-hilt dagger. It nods and chirps and coos as it - continues to strangle the grip in its tiny bloody hands, - singing softly and soothingly. The ruby flashes and glints, - almost strobe-like in the sunlight, as though in the midst of - some kind of struggle. But as the hemogoblin continues its - strange lullaby, the gem eventually fades and grows dull, - until finally it resembles nothing more than a lifeless lump - of stone.

    -

    The hemogoblin releases its death grip on the dagger and - lowers its arms to its sides, allowing the dagger to slip to - the ground. It looks up at you happily with ruby-red eyes that - seem to flash in the sunlight, and it chirps merrily.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     diff --git a/www/spoilers.html b/www/spoilers.html index 8629906..0191680 100644 --- a/www/spoilers.html +++ b/www/spoilers.html @@ -308,25 +308,9 @@ of the Were-Hare
  • Chapter 1
  • Chapter 2
    • -
  • Current Story -
    • +
  • Chapter 3
    • +
  • Current +Story
  • Bestiary
  • Geography
  • Cosmology
    • @@ -361,11 +345,11 @@ Runesocesius

    Stats

    -

    Total length: 55749 words / 238 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the +

    Total length: 55744 words / 238 minute read. (Mind you, that’s the length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not just the story.)

    -

    There have been 185 messages posted over 173 days since the first -post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.06.

    +

    There have been 188 messages posted over 174 days since the first +post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of 1.08.

    About

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

    @@ -3985,12 +3969,19 @@ mission?

    www

    -

    Current Story

    -

    Below are emails that I send to the mailing list.

    -

    You can subscribe to these updates with the rss feed.

    -

    https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml

    -

    00038

    +

    Chapter 3

    +

    Chapter 3 of BASEMENT QUEST.

    +

    Jump to: 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53

    + +

    00038

    The mission, party-wise, had been an abject failure.

    They had found the crystal, and Master Corraidhín had vanished. Inky @@ -4341,7 +4332,7 @@ the 1st Crystal?

    Find out next time on BASEMENT QUEST

    www

    -

    00039

    +

    00039

    Alex silently observes the party and this foolish hobbit, before him three untouched drinks have accumulated. He’s a little less enthusiatic @@ -4514,7 +4505,7 @@ Lucy’s before Blavin leaves if you want to.

    www

    -

    00040

    +

    00040

    As Blavin finished his afterthought about handing over the crystal, a yelp was the only warning they heard before a young waiter was suddenly @@ -4683,7 +4674,7 @@ you will take posession of the Ginnarak Crystal.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00041

    +

    00041

    Alex grips the encoded message he received in reply to his last request firmly in his coat pocket. It was simple, curt, impactful. @@ -4758,7 +4749,7 @@ cloudstuff. “Come! The hotelier will be very excited to greet you!”

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00042

    +

    00042

    This seems a bit strange. Certainly Blavin has been pulling strings from behind the scenes the whole time, but why coordinate a special @@ -4881,7 +4872,7 @@ bounding up the cloudstuff steps.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00043

    +

    00043

    Pirates?! Again?! Alex groans, unfortunately he’s run into this crew of dastardly mostly cybernetic punks in the past. Nasty group back home, @@ -4967,7 +4958,7 @@ hotel entrance, roughly pirate-adjacent.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00044

    +

    00044

    As Alex spots the sunspoke valve he grabs it and cranks it up to the 2/3 mark. “Sorry little friend, we’re going to need a little bit more @@ -5004,7 +4995,7 @@ stowaway!

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00045

    +

    00045

    As the blankets draw back from the bloody mass, a cute little hemogoblin appears. “Aww little fellas just scared.” Alex lowers the @@ -5075,7 +5066,7 @@ offensive stances. “Oh!” cries Bread. “It’s you!”

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00046

    +

    00046

    Ah so I suppose those Toques were being honest then, there was a Ginnarak crystal, and I guess they were going to give it to us.. oh @@ -5192,7 +5183,7 @@ airship shifts as it starts to drift, suddenly unmoored.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00047

    +

    00047

    Damn it! I should’ve left the little goblin in the balloon, this could get tricky..

    @@ -5285,7 +5276,7 @@ wisely doesn’t make a sound as he disappears from view.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00048

    +

    00048

    Alex snatches up his new hemo friend cheering huzzah as he does. We’ve got a pirate ship little guy!

    @@ -5486,7 +5477,7 @@ It was Bread’s idea. They were a good guide.”

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00049

    +

    00049

    “They are a good guide,” Inky corrects adamantly. “Do you hear that, Bread? You’re not allowed to disappear until you’ve had an @@ -5607,7 +5598,7 @@ lucky drone pilot that dared to chase its dreams.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00050

    +

    00050

    Meta: I look forward to reading the A.I.’s play once it’s written, we should go back and write the sequence of events for this segment from @@ -5654,7 +5645,7 @@ has already formed at its feet.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00051

    +

    00051

    As they wait for the balloonship to approach, Inky glances to the prone remains of the hotelier on the floor and frowns. There wasn’t much @@ -5745,7 +5736,7 @@ and it chirps merrily.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00052

    +

    00052

    Hmm well, that umm, heya little fella. What umm, what did you find there? Alex moves to pick up Uncle Corraidhin’s dagger, noting that it’s @@ -5786,7 +5777,7 @@ instrument over its body. It smiles at you happily.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    -

    00053

    +

    00053

    The GDB flashes, vibrates, and murmurs electronic static as it collects information from the Hemogoblin. “Peculiar readings indeed” @@ -5865,6 +5856,11 @@ some kind of spirit.

    www

    +

    Current Story

    +

    Below are emails that I send to the mailing list.

    +

    You can subscribe to these updates with the rss feed.

    +

    https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml

    Bestiary

    Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria