From e9de7d3658062387383e34d19f1538f7e1a35284 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: "Christopher P. Brown" Date: Sat, 22 Oct 2022 15:00:39 -0600 Subject: [PATCH] 24 --- basement.order | 1 + src/epistolary/00024.md | 61 +++++++ www/index.html | 89 +++++++++- www/rss.xml | 379 +++++++++++++++++++++++++--------------- www/spoilers.html | 89 +++++++++- 5 files changed, 477 insertions(+), 142 deletions(-) create mode 100644 src/epistolary/00024.md diff --git a/basement.order b/basement.order index 859861e..bf1acdf 100644 --- a/basement.order +++ b/basement.order @@ -17,6 +17,7 @@ src/epistolary/index.md src/epistolary/00021.md src/epistolary/00022.md src/epistolary/00023.md +src/epistolary/00024.md src/bestiary/index.md src/bestiary/aur.md src/bestiary/blahoblin.md diff --git a/src/epistolary/00024.md b/src/epistolary/00024.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f3b7294 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/epistolary/00024.md @@ -0,0 +1,61 @@ +--- +title: 00024 +created: Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40 -0600 +updated: Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40 -0600 +public: yes +syndicated: yes +--- +### 00024 {#00024} + +> **Corraidhin** +> Well I'll be! You can turn yourself into a dagger. And I did say we could stab blavin if you could do that, it's much more stealthy this way. But let me posit this, is the act of stabbing a hobbit unprovoked not itself evil? Or perhaps more convincingly, would it not be better to use the hobbit for whatever information he has so as to lead to this mysterious benefactor, who most assuredly must be evil. +> +> Someone who would send out myriads of teams to pillage and plunder cultural artifacts is truly evil, that must be our target. +> +> Now this isn't to say that we won't stab him. I'm convinced that's probably a good idea in the long run, but we know nothing of the true evil that motivates him! We would kill him just to lose track of the true evil we must smite! +> +> **Y'aml** +> But YOU said if I could turn into a dagger we could STAB him. HE'S EVIL. YOU said so! Not keeping your promises IS one step away from PURE evil! Make a choice Hardy Bear! Stab the evil hobbit, or stab the inkling, or stab SOMETHING evil this minute! +> +> **Corraidhin** +> I most certainly cannot abide with stabbing Inky, it's entirely off the table. And in a city like this there aren't any evil things that just jump out for the stabbing. +> +> (Corraidhin tries to silently control Y'aml during the discussion. However in so doing the party has fallen silent, aghast even) +> +> Corraidhin stands, Y'aml held in hand, red gem eye gleaming a wicked joyful grin as it's raised high, poised to strike. The party around him is silent, and Blavin stares up in shock. The tavern around them has died down and you can hear the bustle of the proprietor calling for his strong men to deal with this ruckus. + +The table---and all of Lucy's Basement within earshot---sits in tense, uneasy quiet at Corraidhin's one-sided conversation with the Sword of Yam'L. Blavin giggles nervously and sips his martini, willfully forcing himself right up to the very last moment to believe that it is all some sort of jest. + +But then the sysorcerer stands and raises the blood crazed dagger over his shoulder, and Blavin squeals and writhes in his chair. Lucy's bouncers scramble forward from the corners of the room to intercept. + +> **Y'aml** +> We STAB Hardy Bear! We STAB NOW!! +> +> Against Corraidhin's control, as though he's in a trance, the dagger comes down. A swift stabbing motion strqight to the neck, as he lunges across the table at Blavin knocking the map and his martini to the side. + + + +Corraidhin once again feels the same peculiar quality of the blade, that sensation of a hollow core with a heavy liquid sloshing inside. Held aloft, the weight of it feels concentrated at the grip, the blade light as a feather. + +He stabs down---Yam'L cries out in wordless glee---and the weight flows into the tip of the blade, the blade itself now drawing Corraidhin's hand downward in a rising crescendo of stabbitude. + + + +Blavin flinches at the last second, and instead of burying itself in his throat, the blade plunges into his shoulder and pins him to the back of the chair. A red mist fills the eye and threatens to cloud it over entirely. It rolls back in ecstasy as it drinks deeply. It sings out, "MORE! MORE! MORE!" and Corraidhin feels the tides of madness rising inside of him, threatening to wash over him wholly, to pull him under and carry him away on thundering waves of bloodlust. + +Corraidhin struggles to pull the blade from the chair back. Blavin whimpers and mewls as he yanks on it, and clutches his wound and, incredibly, takes a large gulp of his drink. + +The sysorcerer still has the wherewithal and the presence of mind to be aware of his surroundings. He is not yet so overcome by the bloodlust. He sees his companions, his fellow residents of the Milk Market, seated around the table. And he sees the musclebound bouncers now nearly within reach. + +Finally he draws the dagger. Blavin sinks in his seat and slides to the floor with his drink, blabbering incoherently, and starts to slither away. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00010.html) diff --git a/www/index.html b/www/index.html index 1360e32..fcb04a1 100644 --- a/www/index.html +++ b/www/index.html @@ -241,6 +241,7 @@ of the Were-Hare
  • 00021
  • 00022
  • 00023
    • +
  • 00024
  • Bestiary
  • Geography
    • @@ -250,7 +251,7 @@ of the Were-Hare

    About

    -

    Total length: 19526 words / 83 minutes

    +

    Total length: 20238 words / 86 minutes

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

    new turtle pattern oven mitts and opens it.

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

    www

    +href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00008.html">www

    +

    00024

    +
    +

    Corraidhin
    +Well I’ll be! You can turn yourself into a dagger. And I did say we +could stab blavin if you could do that, it’s much more stealthy this +way. But let me posit this, is the act of stabbing a hobbit unprovoked +not itself evil? Or perhaps more convincingly, would it not be better to +use the hobbit for whatever information he has so as to lead to this +mysterious benefactor, who most assuredly must be evil.

    +

    Someone who would send out myriads of teams to pillage and plunder +cultural artifacts is truly evil, that must be our target.

    +

    Now this isn’t to say that we won’t stab him. I’m convinced that’s +probably a good idea in the long run, but we know nothing of the true +evil that motivates him! We would kill him just to lose track of the +true evil we must smite!

    +

    Y’aml
    +But YOU said if I could turn into a dagger we could STAB him. HE’S EVIL. +YOU said so! Not keeping your promises IS one step away from PURE evil! +Make a choice Hardy Bear! Stab the evil hobbit, or stab the inkling, or +stab SOMETHING evil this minute!

    +

    Corraidhin
    +I most certainly cannot abide with stabbing Inky, it’s entirely off the +table. And in a city like this there aren’t any evil things that just +jump out for the stabbing.

    +

    (Corraidhin tries to silently control Y’aml during the discussion. +However in so doing the party has fallen silent, aghast even)

    +

    Corraidhin stands, Y’aml held in hand, red gem eye gleaming a wicked +joyful grin as it’s raised high, poised to strike. The party around him +is silent, and Blavin stares up in shock. The tavern around them has +died down and you can hear the bustle of the proprietor calling for his +strong men to deal with this ruckus.

    +
    +

    The table—and all of Lucy’s Basement within earshot—sits in tense, +uneasy quiet at Corraidhin’s one-sided conversation with the Sword of +Yam’L. Blavin giggles nervously and sips his martini, willfully forcing +himself right up to the very last moment to believe that it is all some +sort of jest.

    +

    But then the sysorcerer stands and raises the blood crazed dagger +over his shoulder, and Blavin squeals and writhes in his chair. Lucy’s +bouncers scramble forward from the corners of the room to intercept.

    +
    +

    Y’aml
    +We STAB Hardy Bear! We STAB NOW!!

    +

    Against Corraidhin’s control, as though he’s in a trance, the dagger +comes down. A swift stabbing motion strqight to the neck, as he lunges +across the table at Blavin knocking the map and his martini to the +side.

    +
    + +

    Corraidhin once again feels the same peculiar quality of the blade, +that sensation of a hollow core with a heavy liquid sloshing inside. +Held aloft, the weight of it feels concentrated at the grip, the blade +light as a feather.

    +

    He stabs down—Yam’L cries out in wordless glee—and the weight flows +into the tip of the blade, the blade itself now drawing Corraidhin’s +hand downward in a rising crescendo of stabbitude.

    + +

    Blavin flinches at the last second, and instead of burying itself in +his throat, the blade plunges into his shoulder and pins him to the back +of the chair. A red mist fills the eye and threatens to cloud it over +entirely. It rolls back in ecstasy as it drinks deeply. It sings out, +“MORE! MORE! MORE!” and Corraidhin feels the tides of madness rising +inside of him, threatening to wash over him wholly, to pull him under +and carry him away on thundering waves of bloodlust.

    +

    Corraidhin struggles to pull the blade from the chair back. Blavin +whimpers and mewls as he yanks on it, and clutches his wound and, +incredibly, takes a large gulp of his drink.

    +

    The sysorcerer still has the wherewithal and the presence of mind to +be aware of his surroundings. He is not yet so overcome by the +bloodlust. He sees his companions, his fellow residents of the Milk +Market, seated around the table. And he sees the musclebound bouncers +now nearly within reach.

    +

    Finally he draws the dagger. Blavin sinks in his seat and slides to +the floor with his drink, blabbering incoherently, and starts to slither +away.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    www

    Bestiary

    Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria

    diff --git a/www/rss.xml b/www/rss.xml index 2fa52bc..0ca7a26 100644 --- a/www/rss.xml +++ b/www/rss.xml @@ -6,153 +6,105 @@ https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml Friends having ADVENTURES! Huzzah! - 21 + 24 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 21 - Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55 + 24 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40 -0600 - Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55 -0600 + Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40 -0600 00021 -

    INTERLUDE

    +

    00024

    -

    A glorious victory!

    -

    In the interim time Corraidhin studies the sword of Y’aml, - and correctly deduces that he needs to remove the sticky bit - to be able to sheath the thing.

    -

    sudo chmod -t sword_of_y'aml

    -

    The rest of the interim is spent studying arcane lore - surrounding the Ginnarak Crystals and their purpose. He also - strongly urges the party that we should consider very carefuly - how we need to proceed with the crystal. It’s obvious people - don’t want these things getting out, so we should ensure that - Blavin has good intentions, or at least leaves us out of - whatever potential evil could occur.

    +

    Corraidhin
    + Well I’ll be! You can turn yourself into a dagger. And I did + say we could stab blavin if you could do that, it’s much more + stealthy this way. But let me posit this, is the act of + stabbing a hobbit unprovoked not itself evil? Or perhaps more + convincingly, would it not be better to use the hobbit for + whatever information he has so as to lead to this mysterious + benefactor, who most assuredly must be evil.

    +

    Someone who would send out myriads of teams to pillage and + plunder cultural artifacts is truly evil, that must be our + target.

    +

    Now this isn’t to say that we won’t stab him. I’m convinced + that’s probably a good idea in the long run, but we know + nothing of the true evil that motivates him! We would kill him + just to lose track of the true evil we must smite!

    +

    Y’aml
    + But YOU said if I could turn into a dagger we could STAB him. + HE’S EVIL. YOU said so! Not keeping your promises IS one step + away from PURE evil! Make a choice Hardy Bear! Stab the evil + hobbit, or stab the inkling, or stab SOMETHING evil this + minute!

    +

    Corraidhin
    + I most certainly cannot abide with stabbing Inky, it’s + entirely off the table. And in a city like this there aren’t + any evil things that just jump out for the stabbing.

    +

    (Corraidhin tries to silently control Y’aml during the + discussion. However in so doing the party has fallen silent, + aghast even)

    +

    Corraidhin stands, Y’aml held in hand, red gem eye gleaming + a wicked joyful grin as it’s raised high, poised to strike. + The party around him is silent, and Blavin stares up in shock. + The tavern around them has died down and you can hear the + bustle of the proprietor calling for his strong men to deal + with this ruckus.

    -

    Corraidhin prepares the incantation and, after removing the - sticky bit, is able pry his stiff fingers from the grip.

    -

    You sheathe the blade, but its voice continues to ring - clearly in your head as it prattles on, seeing evil and - villainy everywhere and encouraging you to stab, stab, - stab.

    -

    Your sysorcerous studies, confirmed by the eager and - forthright sword, suggest that the blade will be able to rest - for a while once it tastes blood.

    -

    Your former mentor and rival sysorceror Eccentric Kevin - calls on you one day under the pretense of showing you the - latest draft of KDL (pronounced “cuddle”), their own “Kevin’s - Document Language”, an alternative syntax for incantations and - personal pet project of theirs that has thus far failed, much - to their perpetual consternation, to gain any traction or - adoption in the wider magic community. They are insufferably - polite and sinisterly supportive. They complain about how the - obstinant gnus keep standing in the middle of the road trying - to block traffic, and they demand to know all about your - recent exploits and adventures.

    +

    The table—and all of Lucy’s Basement within earshot—sits in + tense, uneasy quiet at Corraidhin’s one-sided conversation + with the Sword of Yam’L. Blavin giggles nervously and sips his + martini, willfully forcing himself right up to the very last + moment to believe that it is all some sort of jest.

    +

    But then the sysorcerer stands and raises the blood crazed + dagger over his shoulder, and Blavin squeals and writhes in + his chair. Lucy’s bouncers scramble forward from the corners + of the room to intercept.

    -

    Once back in town, Inky had the small glass shard in their - palm removed by a harried-looking healer, who merely shrugged - at Inky’s account of the disappearing ink and advised them to - return if they experienced adverse effects before hurrying off - to the next patient. A visit to the local stationery shop did - not yield any answers; the stocky human at the counter shook - their head apologetically when shown the broken ink bottle. - However, they did suggest asking at one of the larger shops in - the city.

    -

    To celebrate their first successful quest, Inky made - torties[1] for their party with flour ground from some of the - large corn kernels at the dig site, topped with a sweet nutty - squash spread. Babbleberry tea was served from their newly - acquired jade tea set, now patched with what Inky had been - assured was an unbreakable seal[2] by a merchant with a toothy - grin in one of Vay’Nullar’s notorious back alleys.

    -

    Master Corraidhín’s cautionary words of wisdom still echo - in Inky’s head, though they were secretly tickled by the idea - of the crystal being actually a rare and previously unknown - species of melon with very potent magical properties. The very - thought of melons was making Inky a bit thirsty. Let the - warrior and wizard worry about all the potential evils of the - world — it’s time for a dash to the market for some beatfruit - juice!

    -
    -

    [1] Also known as torte-teas, as in “Torte-tea, yas?”, - which was how their previous ink maestro used to greet - customers entering the brewery. Flat little tea cakes with - sugar or spice (or both, which vary by region) and sometimes - eaten in a loose wrap. Some humans called them “crabs” for - some reason which baffled Inky, since the torties had no - pincers … at least none that they could see anyway.

    -

    [2] The seal attached to the bottom of the teapot and each - cup had a glyph of an unknown object between two hands.

    +

    Y’aml
    + We STAB Hardy Bear! We STAB NOW!!

    +

    Against Corraidhin’s control, as though he’s in a trance, + the dagger comes down. A swift stabbing motion strqight to the + neck, as he lunges across the table at Blavin knocking the map + and his martini to the side.

    -

    The healer removes a small glass bead from Inky’s palm. It - is worn smooth and round like a marble. If you look closely, - you can see a small blemish in the center that somewhat - resembles either a duck or a rabbit depending on how you - orient it.

    -

    It is captivating to look at and comforting to hold in your - hand. You fidget with it often. Now and then you suddenly - notice you have been gazing at it for some minutes without - realizing it.

    -

    You make your party a delightful meal of torties, serving - tea from the magically reinforced jade set.

    -

    Cleaning up afterwards, you can’t help but notice the - patterns of the tea leaves in the bottoms of the jade - cups.

    -

    YOU FORESEE AN OMEN FOR THE PARTY. WHAT IS IT?

    -

    You dash to the market for beatfruit juice, which you - easily find. And you find yourself irrationally drawn to the - produce. The kale, dandelion greens, and beans all look - especially scrumptious and … plump and juicy?

    -

    An old toothy market attendant sits on a stool by the - vegetable stand reading the Farmers Almanac. Unsolicited, they - mention to you that it is only three days until the next full - moon.

    -
    -

    Jarrod has two things in particular he wants to do when - back in town, with whatever his cut of the gold is. First, he - wants to go looking for a cheap, run-down building somewhere - in town and buy the property if he has enough money (perhaps - negotiating a bit where necessary).

    -

    Second, he wishes to seek arcane counsel from Corraidhín, - perhaps getting a small invocation applied to one of the - charms on his arm band. Something in the realm of a - fascination spell (with an activation word) that can be used - on occasion to draw attention.

    -

    Jarrod agrees that we should not invite trouble. We shall - tread cautiously with regards to the crystals.

    -

    Yum, torties!

    -
    -

    After successfully negotiating the price down a little bit, - you are able to purchase a run-down building. You are now the - proud owner and proprietor of the Milk Market building in the - Wandering Bazzar district of downtown Vay’Nullar.

    -

    The ground level is occupied by longtime district staple - Enrique’s Empanada Emporium, famous for its signature stuffed - pastries and its Terrapin Ale, brewed on site by Enrique - himself, who happens to be a very large humanoid turtle.

    -

    It’s a little seedy and a little divey, but still draws a - fair amount of foot traffic from shoppers waiting for the - eponymous, ambulatory bazaar of debatable sentience to wander - by. Reliably, a small gang of breadpunks can be found - loitering here and espousing the virtues of social anarchy. - Enrique allows their presence and on occasion even buys them a - round of ale.

    -

    The top two levels are unoccupied. Years upon years ago, - this space once held large vats for storing and preserving - multibeast milk prior to being distributed. Some enterprising - individual converted and updated the space some time ago, but - was never able to find a tenant. In any case, the space is - yours now to do with what you will.

    -

    With Corraidhin’s assistance, you are able to enchant your - armband by inscribing it with a cross-like glyph with a - teardrop-shaped loop in place of the vertical upper bar. You - now have a FASCINATING BANGLE that can, upon activation, - compel attention and even potentially inspire people to dance - about.

    + +

    Corraidhin once again feels the same peculiar quality of + the blade, that sensation of a hollow core with a heavy liquid + sloshing inside. Held aloft, the weight of it feels + concentrated at the grip, the blade light as a feather.

    +

    He stabs down—Yam’L cries out in wordless glee—and the + weight flows into the tip of the blade, the blade itself now + drawing Corraidhin’s hand downward in a rising crescendo of + stabbitude.

    + +

    Blavin flinches at the last second, and instead of burying + itself in his throat, the blade plunges into his shoulder and + pins him to the back of the chair. A red mist fills the eye + and threatens to cloud it over entirely. It rolls back in + ecstasy as it drinks deeply. It sings out, “MORE! MORE! MORE!” + and Corraidhin feels the tides of madness rising inside of + him, threatening to wash over him wholly, to pull him under + and carry him away on thundering waves of bloodlust.

    +

    Corraidhin struggles to pull the blade from the chair back. + Blavin whimpers and mewls as he yanks on it, and clutches his + wound and, incredibly, takes a large gulp of his drink.

    +

    The sysorcerer still has the wherewithal and the presence + of mind to be aware of his surroundings. He is not yet so + overcome by the bloodlust. He sees his companions, his fellow + residents of the Milk Market, seated around the table. And he + sees the musclebound bouncers now nearly within reach.

    +

    Finally he draws the dagger. Blavin sinks in his seat and + slides to the floor with his drink, blabbering incoherently, + and starts to slither away.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    + href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00010.html">www

    ]]>     @@ -316,7 +268,158 @@ pulls on the new turtle pattern oven mitts and opens it.

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

    www

    + href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00008.html">www

    + ]]> + + + + 21 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 21 - Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55 +-0600 + Wed, 05 Oct 2022 07:21:55 -0600 + + 00021 +

    INTERLUDE

    +
    +

    A glorious victory!

    +

    In the interim time Corraidhin studies the sword of Y’aml, + and correctly deduces that he needs to remove the sticky bit + to be able to sheath the thing.

    +

    sudo chmod -t sword_of_y'aml

    +

    The rest of the interim is spent studying arcane lore + surrounding the Ginnarak Crystals and their purpose. He also + strongly urges the party that we should consider very carefuly + how we need to proceed with the crystal. It’s obvious people + don’t want these things getting out, so we should ensure that + Blavin has good intentions, or at least leaves us out of + whatever potential evil could occur.

    +
    +

    Corraidhin prepares the incantation and, after removing the + sticky bit, is able pry his stiff fingers from the grip.

    +

    You sheathe the blade, but its voice continues to ring + clearly in your head as it prattles on, seeing evil and + villainy everywhere and encouraging you to stab, stab, + stab.

    +

    Your sysorcerous studies, confirmed by the eager and + forthright sword, suggest that the blade will be able to rest + for a while once it tastes blood.

    +

    Your former mentor and rival sysorceror Eccentric Kevin + calls on you one day under the pretense of showing you the + latest draft of KDL (pronounced “cuddle”), their own “Kevin’s + Document Language”, an alternative syntax for incantations and + personal pet project of theirs that has thus far failed, much + to their perpetual consternation, to gain any traction or + adoption in the wider magic community. They are insufferably + polite and sinisterly supportive. They complain about how the + obstinant gnus keep standing in the middle of the road trying + to block traffic, and they demand to know all about your + recent exploits and adventures.

    +
    +

    Once back in town, Inky had the small glass shard in their + palm removed by a harried-looking healer, who merely shrugged + at Inky’s account of the disappearing ink and advised them to + return if they experienced adverse effects before hurrying off + to the next patient. A visit to the local stationery shop did + not yield any answers; the stocky human at the counter shook + their head apologetically when shown the broken ink bottle. + However, they did suggest asking at one of the larger shops in + the city.

    +

    To celebrate their first successful quest, Inky made + torties[1] for their party with flour ground from some of the + large corn kernels at the dig site, topped with a sweet nutty + squash spread. Babbleberry tea was served from their newly + acquired jade tea set, now patched with what Inky had been + assured was an unbreakable seal[2] by a merchant with a toothy + grin in one of Vay’Nullar’s notorious back alleys.

    +

    Master Corraidhín’s cautionary words of wisdom still echo + in Inky’s head, though they were secretly tickled by the idea + of the crystal being actually a rare and previously unknown + species of melon with very potent magical properties. The very + thought of melons was making Inky a bit thirsty. Let the + warrior and wizard worry about all the potential evils of the + world — it’s time for a dash to the market for some beatfruit + juice!

    +
    +

    [1] Also known as torte-teas, as in “Torte-tea, yas?”, + which was how their previous ink maestro used to greet + customers entering the brewery. Flat little tea cakes with + sugar or spice (or both, which vary by region) and sometimes + eaten in a loose wrap. Some humans called them “crabs” for + some reason which baffled Inky, since the torties had no + pincers … at least none that they could see anyway.

    +

    [2] The seal attached to the bottom of the teapot and each + cup had a glyph of an unknown object between two hands.

    +
    +

    The healer removes a small glass bead from Inky’s palm. It + is worn smooth and round like a marble. If you look closely, + you can see a small blemish in the center that somewhat + resembles either a duck or a rabbit depending on how you + orient it.

    +

    It is captivating to look at and comforting to hold in your + hand. You fidget with it often. Now and then you suddenly + notice you have been gazing at it for some minutes without + realizing it.

    +

    You make your party a delightful meal of torties, serving + tea from the magically reinforced jade set.

    +

    Cleaning up afterwards, you can’t help but notice the + patterns of the tea leaves in the bottoms of the jade + cups.

    +

    YOU FORESEE AN OMEN FOR THE PARTY. WHAT IS IT?

    +

    You dash to the market for beatfruit juice, which you + easily find. And you find yourself irrationally drawn to the + produce. The kale, dandelion greens, and beans all look + especially scrumptious and … plump and juicy?

    +

    An old toothy market attendant sits on a stool by the + vegetable stand reading the Farmers Almanac. Unsolicited, they + mention to you that it is only three days until the next full + moon.

    +
    +

    Jarrod has two things in particular he wants to do when + back in town, with whatever his cut of the gold is. First, he + wants to go looking for a cheap, run-down building somewhere + in town and buy the property if he has enough money (perhaps + negotiating a bit where necessary).

    +

    Second, he wishes to seek arcane counsel from Corraidhín, + perhaps getting a small invocation applied to one of the + charms on his arm band. Something in the realm of a + fascination spell (with an activation word) that can be used + on occasion to draw attention.

    +

    Jarrod agrees that we should not invite trouble. We shall + tread cautiously with regards to the crystals.

    +

    Yum, torties!

    +
    +

    After successfully negotiating the price down a little bit, + you are able to purchase a run-down building. You are now the + proud owner and proprietor of the Milk Market building in the + Wandering Bazzar district of downtown Vay’Nullar.

    +

    The ground level is occupied by longtime district staple + Enrique’s Empanada Emporium, famous for its signature stuffed + pastries and its Terrapin Ale, brewed on site by Enrique + himself, who happens to be a very large humanoid turtle.

    +

    It’s a little seedy and a little divey, but still draws a + fair amount of foot traffic from shoppers waiting for the + eponymous, ambulatory bazaar of debatable sentience to wander + by. Reliably, a small gang of breadpunks can be found + loitering here and espousing the virtues of social anarchy. + Enrique allows their presence and on occasion even buys them a + round of ale.

    +

    The top two levels are unoccupied. Years upon years ago, + this space once held large vats for storing and preserving + multibeast milk prior to being distributed. Some enterprising + individual converted and updated the space some time ago, but + was never able to find a tenant. In any case, the space is + yours now to do with what you will.

    +

    With Corraidhin’s assistance, you are able to enchant your + armband by inscribing it with a cross-like glyph with a + teardrop-shaped loop in place of the vertical upper bar. You + now have a FASCINATING BANGLE that can, upon activation, + compel attention and even potentially inspire people to dance + about.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    www

    ]]>     diff --git a/www/spoilers.html b/www/spoilers.html index e9e824c..607cb9b 100644 --- a/www/spoilers.html +++ b/www/spoilers.html @@ -241,6 +241,7 @@ of the Were-Hare
  • 00021
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  • Bestiary
  • Geography
    • @@ -253,7 +254,7 @@ id="toc-acknowledgements">Acknowledgements

    About

    -

    Total length: 19526 words / 83 minutes

    +

    Total length: 20238 words / 86 minutes

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

    new turtle pattern oven mitts and opens it.

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

    www

    +href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00008.html">www

    +

    00024

    +
    +

    Corraidhin
    +Well I’ll be! You can turn yourself into a dagger. And I did say we +could stab blavin if you could do that, it’s much more stealthy this +way. But let me posit this, is the act of stabbing a hobbit unprovoked +not itself evil? Or perhaps more convincingly, would it not be better to +use the hobbit for whatever information he has so as to lead to this +mysterious benefactor, who most assuredly must be evil.

    +

    Someone who would send out myriads of teams to pillage and plunder +cultural artifacts is truly evil, that must be our target.

    +

    Now this isn’t to say that we won’t stab him. I’m convinced that’s +probably a good idea in the long run, but we know nothing of the true +evil that motivates him! We would kill him just to lose track of the +true evil we must smite!

    +

    Y’aml
    +But YOU said if I could turn into a dagger we could STAB him. HE’S EVIL. +YOU said so! Not keeping your promises IS one step away from PURE evil! +Make a choice Hardy Bear! Stab the evil hobbit, or stab the inkling, or +stab SOMETHING evil this minute!

    +

    Corraidhin
    +I most certainly cannot abide with stabbing Inky, it’s entirely off the +table. And in a city like this there aren’t any evil things that just +jump out for the stabbing.

    +

    (Corraidhin tries to silently control Y’aml during the discussion. +However in so doing the party has fallen silent, aghast even)

    +

    Corraidhin stands, Y’aml held in hand, red gem eye gleaming a wicked +joyful grin as it’s raised high, poised to strike. The party around him +is silent, and Blavin stares up in shock. The tavern around them has +died down and you can hear the bustle of the proprietor calling for his +strong men to deal with this ruckus.

    +
    +

    The table—and all of Lucy’s Basement within earshot—sits in tense, +uneasy quiet at Corraidhin’s one-sided conversation with the Sword of +Yam’L. Blavin giggles nervously and sips his martini, willfully forcing +himself right up to the very last moment to believe that it is all some +sort of jest.

    +

    But then the sysorcerer stands and raises the blood crazed dagger +over his shoulder, and Blavin squeals and writhes in his chair. Lucy’s +bouncers scramble forward from the corners of the room to intercept.

    +
    +

    Y’aml
    +We STAB Hardy Bear! We STAB NOW!!

    +

    Against Corraidhin’s control, as though he’s in a trance, the dagger +comes down. A swift stabbing motion strqight to the neck, as he lunges +across the table at Blavin knocking the map and his martini to the +side.

    +
    + +

    Corraidhin once again feels the same peculiar quality of the blade, +that sensation of a hollow core with a heavy liquid sloshing inside. +Held aloft, the weight of it feels concentrated at the grip, the blade +light as a feather.

    +

    He stabs down—Yam’L cries out in wordless glee—and the weight flows +into the tip of the blade, the blade itself now drawing Corraidhin’s +hand downward in a rising crescendo of stabbitude.

    + +

    Blavin flinches at the last second, and instead of burying itself in +his throat, the blade plunges into his shoulder and pins him to the back +of the chair. A red mist fills the eye and threatens to cloud it over +entirely. It rolls back in ecstasy as it drinks deeply. It sings out, +“MORE! MORE! MORE!” and Corraidhin feels the tides of madness rising +inside of him, threatening to wash over him wholly, to pull him under +and carry him away on thundering waves of bloodlust.

    +

    Corraidhin struggles to pull the blade from the chair back. Blavin +whimpers and mewls as he yanks on it, and clutches his wound and, +incredibly, takes a large gulp of his drink.

    +

    The sysorcerer still has the wherewithal and the presence of mind to +be aware of his surroundings. He is not yet so overcome by the +bloodlust. He sees his companions, his fellow residents of the Milk +Market, seated around the table. And he sees the musclebound bouncers +now nearly within reach.

    +

    Finally he draws the dagger. Blavin sinks in his seat and slides to +the floor with his drink, blabbering incoherently, and starts to slither +away.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    www

    Bestiary

    Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria