Total length: 27323 words / 116 minute read.
-There have been 112 messages posted over 117 days since the first -post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .95.
+Total length: 27963 words / 119 minute read.
+There have been 115 messages posted over 119 days since the first +post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .96.
This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over email.
@@ -3245,6 +3246,77 @@ trench.WHAT DO YOU DO
+++At Master Corraidhín’s confirmation of the crystal’s presence within +the shipwreck, Inky moves the bubblebee closer above the opening in the +hull, adjusting the angle of the headlights so that a little more light +falls over the gaping hole should the rest of the party wish to enter +the ship through it.
+Next, Inky pulls out some wasabi pears from their bag, biting into +one before dropping the others one at a time several paces apart, +starting near the bow of the ship in a trail until a few roll down into +the hole and land in a hollow thonks somewhere inside the ship.
+Inky then settles near the opening, partly-eaten pear in hand and +waits for the source of the rustling sounds to emerge, if it decides to +emerge at all.
+
From their vantage point, Inky sees a figure crawl up onto the deck +of the ship through a hatch from somewhere below. It appears to be +wearing a breathing bell and a vest of weighted sandbags similar to +yours. It is carrying a bulky bundle tied to its waist by a cord.
+It freezes when it sees the merbear and the tardigrade on ship deck. +But then the bears are teleported to safety a few meters from the +inkling. The figure looks around curiously and shrugs. It casts off some +sandbags and starts rising up through the water toward the happy manta +ray and the restless horkusgrampus. It looks down in your direction as +it goes. Its face is somewhat blurred and obscured by the breathing +bell, but you see a glint of gold as the light of your bubblebee +reflects off one of its eyes.
+++Ah ha! Our prize is near then. And it looks like that bolt forced +that squid monster thing back into its hole. Likely we’ll be alright to +plum the depths here.
+Thank goodness our bears are safe, I should probably move them +somewhere out of harms way, just in case.
++#!/bin/sh +safety=$(find /ocean/* -perm 644 | head -n 1) +for bear in merbear tardigrade; do + sudo usermod -a -G party $bear + sudo scp /ocean/shipwreck/$bear /ocean/$safety + sudo chown corraidhin:party /ocean/$safety +done +sudo chown -R 770 /ocean/$safetyThat should ward them sufficiently, now only the party members can +come and go freely, and they’re part of the party. I’m positive nobody +will complain, they might, but there won’t be anymore bolt mishaps this +way at least..
+As Corraidhin finishes his relocation spell he creeps closer to the +hull of the ship. “Lets see what we’re dealing with here..” he sticks +his head into the opening looking about inside the wreckage, a small orb +of light illuminates the tip of his right hand pointer finger, and he +uses it to carefully probe around the opening as though it were a flash +light.
+
Corraidhín cautiously explores the breach in the hull of the SS RSS. +You poke your head in and see the cargo hold of the ship. The remains of +some of the ship crew are here, long since picked clean by ocean +critters. Their bones are bleached white and they grin mirthlessly at +you. They are nestled in and amongst the spilled contents of several +large chests: jewelry, gold coins, precious stones litter the floor of +the ship.
+You do not see any lumpy, multi-faceted, blue and gold crystal melon +here.
+The ship is resting mostly on its side, so its sloping “floor” is +actually the ship wall. The hatch up to the upper deck is to your right, +and as you enter the hold, someone or something shuts the hatch +closed.
+A skeleton by the hull entrance crawls forward, trying to block your +exit. And two more start to claw themselves up and free of the ship’s +treasure, and they start to advance toward you.
+WHAT DO YOU DO
+Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria
++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
+ + ]]> +++Inky flips backwards and up, narrowly avoiding the + tentacles’ grasp. From their courier bag they shake out an + inflatable bubblebee[1] of the sort made for aquatic camping. + It is one of the fancier models provided to each member of + their party courtesy of the well-endowed Benefactor. They yank + on one of the cords and scramble inside, hastily closing the + flap as the bubblebee rapidly draws in water and fills out to + its full size.
+The bubblebee rises as Inky pulls on the flippers and + allows the drifter to buoy the bubble upwards, a bat from the + end of one tentacle sending the bubblebee forward a short + distance before it slows above the flailing tentacles. Inky + switches on the lights to try to get a clearer view of the + source of the tentacles.
+[1] Specific features of bubblebees vary among makers, but + they generally have a transparent or translucent spherical + body, a pair of small translucent wings that act as flippers, + an opening flap at the back with a short rudder attached, and + two cords inside at the front near the top which when pulled + inflate the bubble with the surrounding air or water. Premium + versions might also include headlights, a buzzer, built-in + filtration, improved insulation, a drifter and thruster. Like + tents they come in various sizes, from small ones that can fit + one or two people at average elven height, to larger ones for + group outings. Their portability and rugged durability make + them very popular among tourists and campers who can enjoy a + range of water sports, such as water walking on the surface, + riding the bubble down river rapids, or bobbing along + underwater to watch the sea life wander by.
+
Inky climbs into the inflatable bubblebee just in the nick + of time. A tentacle bats them a short distance away, and then + the apparatus’s lights cut on and illuminate the murky + water.
+You see the tentacles recede into the depths into, from + this distance, what looks like the outline of a shipwreck.
+At the moment, you are out of reach of the tentacles. And + the bubblebee affords you some extra maneuverability.
+++Corraidhin eyes inky as they drift away in their bubblebee. + “hmm a wonderful idea, that seems safe, but I need to get in + closer.”
+While Inky drifts away Corraidhin swims down and towards + the tentacles to get a better view of whatever creature stole + his new found bear friends. “I simply cannot bear any harm to + come to my bears!” As he approaches the creature he prepares a + spell should he need to vanquish the monster.
++(fn vanquish [target] + (match target.state + [:living] (searing-bolt {target target + radius "narrow" + intensity "high"}) + [:undead] (smite {target target + deity "Larani"})))
Corraidhin charges up a spell!
+The tentacles pull your dear bear friends downward, and you + struggle to get a view of whatever creature is abducting + them.
+The long, slender tentacles appear to originate from within + or behind a large sunken ship!
+Could it be the SS RSS?
+++Gabs was stunned by the majesty of the two bears, and upon + seeing these two beautiful creatures be pulled down, got + unreasonably angry. She made sure that the breathing bell was + properly attached to her head (a marvelous thing, she thought. + She had always wondered what it would be like to have a + jellyfish on her head).
+Gabs bundled and tied up her skirt, as she started to bolt + toward the edge of the ship. She reached into her purse and + moved away all the loose candy and pulled out two long + stiletto daggers. She begins stabbing with unusual precision + at the tentacles reaching up on the ship.
+She yells, “Come’on y’all! We gotta save those babies!”
+She dives in.
+
Prior to the incident, Gabs would have noticed that there + was a very slight, wobbly weight to the jellyfish. Kind of + like getting a gentle hug from a helmet of warm spaghetti.
+Some loose candy floats up and away as you rummage through + your purse, the brightly colored wrappers attracting the + attention of a curious passing manta ray. It glides over and + has a nibble.
+You fetch your stiletto daggers and start stabbing at the + long, slender tentacles. Your unusual precision causes the + tentacles to coil and retreat, releasing the merbear in the + process. It shouts through its tears, “My brother!” and dives + back into the fray, fighting to free the tardigrade.
+From here, you can see that the tentacles seem to come from + the wreckage of a large ship lying on its side on ocean + floor.
+META: Gabs rolls a 6 on “Do Anything 1” + and gains a new skill: Stabbing 2
+++Seeing his new comrade enter the fray heroically Corraidhin + gathers himself. “I suppose this is no time for errant + curiosity, can’t have anyone getting hurt after all.”
+Ensuring that he doesn’t hit either Inky nor Gabs as they + near the creature, Corraidhin throws the spell he prepared in + the direction of the center of the tentacles. (vanquish + “tentacles”) And releases a pinpoint thread of searing energy + from his palm, guiding it through the mass of tentacles in a + random and chaotic pattern, attempting to sever as many + tentacles as possible.
+As that goes on the sysercoerr calculates his retreat plan, + he won’t be able to prepare another spell like that on the + fly, far too meticulous work to do mid combat. As soon as the + spell runs out, best case will be to retreat somewhere out of + reach, or as far away as is possible there.
+
Corraidhín takes careful aim fires off a searing bolt into + the center of the mass of squirming, reaching tentacles. The + bolt of energy bounces from tentacle to tentacle creating a + chaotic web of energy.
+One of the final bolts of energy pierces the tentacle that + happens to be gripping the tardigrade. It releases the water + bear, but not before the tardigrade takes the full brunt of + the final blast of the dying searing bolt. It cries out and + curls up into a ball. Motionless, it starts sinking downward. + “BROTHER!” the merbear swims after it heedless of any nearby + danger.
+A wayward crackle of energy blasts outward toward a giant + manta ray happily crunching on a piece of hard candy. It flaps + out of the way at the last minute and continues to angrily + enjoy its candy, glaring at you quite indignantly.
+META: Corraidhín rolls a 2 for “Do + Anything 1”, which means things go bad, and gains 1 xp for a + total of 1 xp. You can spend xp to turn any die into a six for + the purpose of advancement.
+++While Master Corraidhín and Gabs confront the tentacles to + rescue the bears, Inky looks around the sea floor. Maybe if + they found suitable replacements for the bears, the tentacles + might be distracted long enough to release the bears, or + provide an opening advantage for one of their party?
+A small distance from the fray, Inky finds a load of + discarded bottles among a large pile of other trash carried + there by the push and pull between the water currents and a + hot spring. Gathering up some bottles, Inky ties them together + with twine in singles and small clusters until they resemble + two large, crudely-made multi-coloured tanokuma[1].
+With some difficulty due to the additional weight, Inky + attaches the tanokuma to the back of their bubblebee and drags + them back above the tentacles, roughly near the spot where the + previous bears were taken. When the valiant members of their + party dive to one side for another strike, Inky loosens the + rope around the “bears” and lets them sink down within reach + of the tentacles.
+[1] First featured in the garden play Teatime with + Tanokuma, the fluffy purple, jam-grabbing, tea-guzzling + bear became an overnight hit among children as well as the + fashion-conscious youth who frequent the trendy “Shin-ku” + district of Vay’Nullar.
+
The decoy tanokuma float above the tentacles as they + retreat from Gabs’s stabbses and Corraidhin’s bolts. They + grope about weakly, wrap themselves around the tanokuma, and + finally withdraw.
+You can now clearly see the wreckage of the SS RSS. The + tentacles—and whatever beast they belong to—is either within, + behind, or below the ship. It is definitely ship + adjacent wherever and whatever it is. The large + double-masted ship is lying on its side, teetering + precariously on the edge of a large, deep ocean trench. There + is a large hole in its hull providing unfettered access to its + insides.
+The tardigrade is sinking inertly toward the ship deck, and + the merbear is swimming blindly after it.
+WHAT DO YOU DO
+ + ]]> +++Corraidhin Shit, shit shit shit shit shit. + This is NOT good. Damn it Y’aml what was that? It wasn’t even + slightly stealthy
+Y’aml STAB, delightful blood. Stab the + flesh, tear the skin, pierce the fruit that gives us strength. + Drink the blood, consume their soul. More more more more more + more more more more
+Corraidhin (internal thought) Ugh my head, + it’s heavy, hurts. Misty and red? I can’t see straight, it’s + hard to think straight. That blasted sword, I thought for a + moment it, no, not think, it definitely did move on its own. + It became lighter and heavier. Pulling against it and it just + weighs itself down. This little magical bauble is definitely + cursed..
+Y’aml CURSED?! Rude Hardy Bear. All we did + was stab that evil hobbit. And it’s getting away! Stab him + again, taste his blood! The tavern gaurds are closing in, they + look like they’re trying to get rid of us, EVIL. Them trying + to stop us from getting that evil hobbit is EVIL, STAB + THEM.
+Corraidhin raises his free hand to his head as though + holding a wound and he groans in dismay as the dagger rises + again. It travels swiftly down towards Blavin, missing as he + slithers of the booth. And again, digging deep into the wooden + seat.
+Y’aml Disgusting wood, stab the flesh! + Stab the Hobbit Hardy Bear!
+But Blavin was inching further out of reach towards the + gaurds. In desperation the dagger begins swinging side to + side, making furtive slashing moves in the direction of the + guards. The party is safely behind Corraidhin, but innocent + patrons and the guards are directly in their sights.
+Corraidhin grabs his other hand and pulls hard, steadying + the swinging. STOP! I command you you blasted toothpick, STOP. + You’ve had your fun, now STOP. These people are innocent, this + man has done us no harm despite his potential “evils”, this is + entirely uncalled for!
+Y’aml NO!!! EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. EVIL. + STAB.
+The dull voice of the magical dagger rises, angry, + insistent. It consumes the last of Corraidhin’s mental + strength. All he hears is EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. Yet he + clings to his spare arm trying desparately to resist. At this + point the party and the tavern has cleared a wide path around + the sysorceor as he struggles with himself, mumbling, + sometimes yelling. EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. NO WE WILL NOT. + EVIL. INNOCENT. STAB BLOOD DRINK. EVIL. EVIL EVIL EVIL STAB + IT. MAKE IT BLEED. I WILL NO.. STAB IT. STAB HIM.
+The voice seems to change, it dies down. Not yelling, but + commanding. Firm, calm, sane.
+Stab them, stab them, make them bleed. Drink the blood, + consume the soul, free them from their evil being. Stab them, + stab them… over and over and over, as the sysorceor approaches + Blavin and the guards with a malevolent look in his ruby red + eyes.
+
~
+++Inky moves to stand next to Blavin and the nightclub + bouncers. Tossing a tiny “see-eye” container they had borrowed + from Master Corraidhín at him, Inky looks the sysorceor in the + eye and says, “You are not your sword.”
+Watching the wizard’s expression, Inky continues, more + quietly, “If Master Corraidhín truly wishes to end the hobbit, + a mere imp would not stop him, but likewise, whatever he sets + his mind to do, a dagger cannot stop him either.”
+
~
+++Jarrod steps gently into the fray and activates his + FASCINATING CHARM, attempting to draw all eyes to him. He + carefully avoids the wild swinging of the + once-sword-now-dagger.
+“I think,” he rumbles gently, “we could all use a drink + over the other end of the room. I’m buying, and I’ll spin you + all a tale of wonder! A tale of a wanderer, and of a war + hammer, and the first of their wild battles together!”
+Leaning over to whisper urgently in Corraidhín’s ear: + “Friend, I do not know what occurs here, but pull yourself + together. We can later sate our blood lust in more appropriate + places!” Jarrod lends a sly wink in the sysorcerer’s + direction, one that promises adventure later.
+
The tavern guards tense, but pause their advance, as the + crazed mage’s friends position themselves protectively around + him and try to placate him. They wouldn’t want to engage a + master sysorcerer on the best of days, much less one with some + kind of malevolent blood dagger in the middle of a psychotic + break. If his compatriots can handle him without them having + to interfere, all the better.
+The duck waddles up next to Inky and quacks softly, + pleadingly at Corraidhin. Only the Ornithologer in the corner + can understand its words when it says, “As your marketing + manager I must strongly advise against this course of + action!”
+Seated in the corner next to the Ornithologer is a shaggy + groll dressed in a dusty, faded poncho and a wide brimmed hat; + and a greasy, matted gnu, dressed in black ceremonial + robes.
+The groll discreetly draws its poncho back revealing a + bandoleer of wands and draws a cracklestick and points it at + the sysorcer. The wand starts to hum and glow as it charges up + for a blast.
+The gnu slaps the groll’s wrist, and immediately launches + into a tirade against the cracklestick’s manufacturer’s + proprietary spell slotting algorithm, and honestly how can you + possibly justify your choices when there are open source + alternatives available?
+The groll rolls its eyes, obviously having been on the + receiving end of this particular lecture before, and tries to + slap away the gnu’s grasping hands. The ensuing scuffle + threatens to turn this powder keg of a situation into a full + blown conflagration until Jarrod actives his FASCINATING + CHARM, commanding the attention of the entire room.
+The gnu freezes with its hands around the groll’s throat. + The groll halts with fists full of the gnu’s beard. A grub + smoking a hookah pauses with the mouthpiece raised to its + pursed lips. A distracted waitress on roller skates crashes + right into the bar.
+++As though in a trance Corraidhin continues to yell STAB. + THEM. STAB. IT. cutting wildly at the air before him. As Inky + whispers to him his expression changes, first a grimace, then + a whimper. As Jarrod leads the patrons away from the sysorceor + he begins to tremble and cower away from himself, away from + everyone. His ruby red eyes dart back and forth between his + friends and the patrons, like a frightened animal searching + for an escape. He pulls the dagger into himself, as though + sheilding it from his surroundings.
+What.. what’s going on, he mutters feebly to himself. + Everything is a blurr. Uncertain of where he is or what’s + going on, Corraidhin thumbs the dagger, caressing the large + ruby embedded in the hilt. Y’aml, you’re still here, good + good, the syscoreor croons.
+Standing up straight his eyes lock with Jarrod as the Bard + glances over his shoulder, momentarily distracted from his + oration, worried about his companion.
+I.. ugh, Corraidhin grabs his head as though in pain, and + collapses to the floor.
+
Corraidhin hits the floor and the dagger, now bereft of the + well of emotion it had been drawing from, grows still. The eye + closes and it seems to sigh happily. “Good job, Hardy Bear. + You have spilled the blood of evil.” And it sleeps, inert, + lifeless.
+Corraidhin is on the ground cradling the dagger.
+Most of the patrons are still fascinated by Jarrod.
+Blavin is squirming around on the floor gibbering about + reassigning your case.
+The duck has found a toppled plate of corn chips and is + happily snacking away.
+You feel like your welcome at Lucy’s Basement has been, for + the moment, overstayed.
+WHAT DO YOU DO
+ + ]]> +++At Master Corraidhín’s confirmation of the crystal’s + presence within the shipwreck, Inky moves the bubblebee closer + above the opening in the hull, adjusting the angle of the + headlights so that a little more light falls over the gaping + hole should the rest of the party wish to enter the ship + through it.
+Next, Inky pulls out some wasabi pears from their bag, + biting into one before dropping the others one at a time + several paces apart, starting near the bow of the ship in a + trail until a few roll down into the hole and land in a hollow + thonks somewhere inside the ship.
+Inky then settles near the opening, partly-eaten pear in + hand and waits for the source of the rustling sounds to + emerge, if it decides to emerge at all.
+
From their vantage point, Inky sees a figure crawl up onto + the deck of the ship through a hatch from somewhere below. It + appears to be wearing a breathing bell and a vest of weighted + sandbags similar to yours. It is carrying a bulky bundle tied + to its waist by a cord.
+It freezes when it sees the merbear and the tardigrade on + ship deck. But then the bears are teleported to safety a few + meters from the inkling. The figure looks around curiously and + shrugs. It casts off some sandbags and starts rising up + through the water toward the happy manta ray and the restless + horkusgrampus. It looks down in your direction as it goes. Its + face is somewhat blurred and obscured by the breathing bell, + but you see a glint of gold as the light of your bubblebee + reflects off one of its eyes.
+++Ah ha! Our prize is near then. And it looks like that bolt + forced that squid monster thing back into its hole. Likely + we’ll be alright to plum the depths here.
+Thank goodness our bears are safe, I should probably move + them somewhere out of harms way, just in case.
++#!/bin/sh +safety=$(find /ocean/* -perm 644 | head -n 1) +for bear in merbear tardigrade; do + sudo usermod -a -G party $bear + sudo scp /ocean/shipwreck/$bear /ocean/$safety + sudo chown corraidhin:party /ocean/$safety +done +sudo chown -R 770 /ocean/$safetyThat should ward them sufficiently, now only the party + members can come and go freely, and they’re part of the party. + I’m positive nobody will complain, they might, but there won’t + be anymore bolt mishaps this way at least..
+As Corraidhin finishes his relocation spell he creeps + closer to the hull of the ship. “Lets see what we’re dealing + with here..” he sticks his head into the opening looking about + inside the wreckage, a small orb of light illuminates the tip + of his right hand pointer finger, and he uses it to carefully + probe around the opening as though it were a flash light.
+
Corraidhín cautiously explores the breach in the hull of + the SS RSS. You poke your head in and see the cargo hold of + the ship. The remains of some of the ship crew are here, long + since picked clean by ocean critters. Their bones are bleached + white and they grin mirthlessly at you. They are nestled in + and amongst the spilled contents of several large chests: + jewelry, gold coins, precious stones litter the floor of the + ship.
+You do not see any lumpy, multi-faceted, blue and gold + crystal melon here.
+The ship is resting mostly on its side, so its sloping + “floor” is actually the ship wall. The hatch up to the upper + deck is to your right, and as you enter the hold, someone or + something shuts the hatch closed.
+A skeleton by the hull entrance crawls forward, trying to + block your exit. And two more start to claw themselves up and + free of the ship’s treasure, and they start to advance toward + you.
+WHAT DO YOU DO
+ + ]]> +++Gentle bears, there is no need to argue! Why can’t there be + two true bears of the ocean? For what its worth, I personally + think the ocean doesn’t have enough bears and could do with + two strapping examples of true peak bearitude! The two of you + should be working together to show the world how important + bears are and how wonderful the sea is to have two. And the + moon! Who’s to say the moon doesn’t also need two bears?
+The only time I can ever think that a bear isn’t needed is + when it’s calling itself Monokuma, once it’s doing that you + know you’re in for a hell of a bad time. And since neither of + you are it, I say we let this matter rest and declare this + ocean two bears richer!
+Corraidhin grips the innert dagger of Y’aml beneath his + cloak, just in case. No need for a blood rush like last time, + can’t let daggers go mouthing off an all that. Or perhaps the + ocean needs less bears, it’s tempting, I wonder if Y’aml would + react to bear blood..
+
The bears shudder at the mention of Monokuma. “Oh, such a + dreadful bear,” laments the tardigrade. “You mustn’t mention + him!”
+“Indeed,” agrees the merbear, “a discredit and an + embarrassment to bears everywhere, at sea and on land!”
+“Yes, this sea may be big enough for two bears, but not if + one of them is HE!”
+The merbear considers the tardigrade’s words. “Hmm, + two bears you say?” he ponders, giving the tardigrade + a scrupulous side-eye. “Do you truly think so?”
+“Now that you mention it, I don’t see why not!” admits the + tardigrade, gesturing broadly at the fathomless leagues of + ocean all around you.
+“You know what? What is the sky anyway if not a sea made of + stars! The moon could indeed use two bears too, could it + not?”
+“It could indeed, Brother Bear!”
+“Brother!”
+The tardigrade and the merbear embrace. If you’ve never + experienced the eight-armed hug of a water bear, well, then + you don’t know how soft and enveloping it is.
+“Come, Brother!” cries the tardigrade suddenly. “We must + begin our search at once! For what if there is a third Bear of + the Sea yet to be discovered?”
+“Another Brother of ours who doesn’t know about us? Oh, I + can’t stand the thought!” sobs the merbear.
+They swim away hand in hand, paragons of brotherly bear + love. “Good luck and safe travels, interlopers!” calls the + merbear to you over its shoulder. “If you ever end up on the + moon,” adds the tardigrade, laughing merrily, “say hello to + Hap’n’stance for me!”
+Suddenly, a disturbance! A perturbance of bubbles and a + rush of current as massive amounts of water are displaced by + inky black tentacles that shoot up from below! They reach! + They grasp! One grabs the tardigrade around the middle. + Another grabs the merbear by the tail. Both bears cry and + reach for each other as they are ripped apart and pulled down + below.
+The tentacles grope around in the water, batting at you and + threatening to pull you down too! They grab at your wrists and + at your ankles!
+WHAT DO YOU DO
+ + ]]> +--Gentle bears, there is no need to argue! Why can’t there be - two true bears of the ocean? For what its worth, I personally - think the ocean doesn’t have enough bears and could do with - two strapping examples of true peak bearitude! The two of you - should be working together to show the world how important - bears are and how wonderful the sea is to have two. And the - moon! Who’s to say the moon doesn’t also need two bears?
-The only time I can ever think that a bear isn’t needed is - when it’s calling itself Monokuma, once it’s doing that you - know you’re in for a hell of a bad time. And since neither of - you are it, I say we let this matter rest and declare this - ocean two bears richer!
-Corraidhin grips the innert dagger of Y’aml beneath his - cloak, just in case. No need for a blood rush like last time, - can’t let daggers go mouthing off an all that. Or perhaps the - ocean needs less bears, it’s tempting, I wonder if Y’aml would - react to bear blood..
-
The bears shudder at the mention of Monokuma. “Oh, such a - dreadful bear,” laments the tardigrade. “You mustn’t mention - him!”
-“Indeed,” agrees the merbear, “a discredit and an - embarrassment to bears everywhere, at sea and on land!”
-“Yes, this sea may be big enough for two bears, but not if - one of them is HE!”
-The merbear considers the tardigrade’s words. “Hmm, - two bears you say?” he ponders, giving the tardigrade - a scrupulous side-eye. “Do you truly think so?”
-“Now that you mention it, I don’t see why not!” admits the - tardigrade, gesturing broadly at the fathomless leagues of - ocean all around you.
-“You know what? What is the sky anyway if not a sea made of - stars! The moon could indeed use two bears too, could it - not?”
-“It could indeed, Brother Bear!”
-“Brother!”
-The tardigrade and the merbear embrace. If you’ve never - experienced the eight-armed hug of a water bear, well, then - you don’t know how soft and enveloping it is.
-“Come, Brother!” cries the tardigrade suddenly. “We must - begin our search at once! For what if there is a third Bear of - the Sea yet to be discovered?”
-“Another Brother of ours who doesn’t know about us? Oh, I - can’t stand the thought!” sobs the merbear.
-They swim away hand in hand, paragons of brotherly bear - love. “Good luck and safe travels, interlopers!” calls the - merbear to you over its shoulder. “If you ever end up on the - moon,” adds the tardigrade, laughing merrily, “say hello to - Hap’n’stance for me!”
-Suddenly, a disturbance! A perturbance of bubbles and a - rush of current as massive amounts of water are displaced by - inky black tentacles that shoot up from below! They reach! - They grasp! One grabs the tardigrade around the middle. - Another grabs the merbear by the tail. Both bears cry and - reach for each other as they are ripped apart and pulled down - below.
-The tentacles grope around in the water, batting at you and - threatening to pull you down too! They grab at your wrists and - at your ankles!
-WHAT DO YOU DO
- - ]]> ---Why no, we don’t mind much about competition, certainly - nothing wrong. Can’t imagine someone to put all of their eggs - in one basket, especially when whatever it is they desire is - so valuable.
-That said, our benefactor must be pretty eager to get these - crystals if he’s willing to send out team after team. I mean, - we’re team 43, that’s a lot of people to pay and a lot of - eagerness to find these crystals. Why is that? What benefit - are these shiny rocks to them? What even is their purpose in - retrieving them?
-
“Oh, no no no, child,” Blavin titters as he takes a sip of - his ever-present martini. “You must understand, the Benefactor - is a singularly dedicated collector, and has been for ages! - There are—and have been!—many other retrieval teams, yes. But - not all of them have been for the crystals. And some of them - were formed, active, and disbanded long before you or I - arrived on the scene.” He winks at you conspiratorially.
---I would postulate, based upon the magical wards we had to - bypass, the cadre of gaurds that needed to be dispatched, and - the gigantic moth monster that rested beneath it, that these - crystals aren’t meant to go anywhere.
-Now I’m not trying to point fingers here, morality is many - shades of gray, and it isn’t really my job to suss out what - you’re doing. But I’m a curious sysorceor, and when I see a - chance to learn I seize upon the moment. There’s something - here you’re not telling us, and I for one and keen to know - it.
-
“I wouldn’t worry your wizened old brow about it,” Blavin - chuckles, sloshing his drink. “The Benefactor’s concern is - precisely the same as yours! These items are of enormous - cultural and historical significance, to say nothing of their - well of concentrated arcane energies. They’re dangerous just - sitting out there in the world. Who knows who might come - across one and use it for nefarious purposes.”
-Yam’L’s eye widens and it seems to shudder at the mere - suggestion of evil.
-“Did you say this one was in the hands of a giant moth?” - Blavin shudders with revulsion. “My word, man! Do you really - think such an overgrown insect is an appropriate guardian for - a beloved and dangerous cultural icon such as the Ginnarak - Crystal? Surely not!”
-“No,” he sits back with a satisfied smile, “I think we must - all agree that they are safer in the public collection of a - competent and benevolent curator. Then everybody can enjoy - them safely!”
---META: I’m gonna preface the sword speech with this to make - it quicker to write
-Y’aml
-
- I like what you’re putting down here, this guy is DEFINITELY - evil. Nobody asks loads of people to steal things for them - without being evil. I say we stab him, nice and good, right in - the gut. Maybe 6 or 7 times. I’m positive nobody will mind. - Evil people steal things, we saw that inky creature stealing - things from that vault, definitely evil. (singsong) Evil evil - evil, stab stab stab, make the evil go away with every little - stab~Corraidhin to Y’aml
-
- Dear sysadmins, once again, inky is not evil. They were - borrowing something that had been cast on the ground, - abandoned. Giving a tea set a good home is far from evil. But - you might be onto something about this Blavin fellow, but we - can’t just stab someone in a busy pub! Besides you’re a sword, - and stabbing someone in a pub is the job of a dagger. So - unless you can transform into the Dagger of Y’aml I think - we’re out of luck here.
Yam’L gets a curious look in its eye at the suggestion. - “CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!” it cries directly into your mind. It - squeezes its eye shut and trembles with intense concentration. - With great effort, the sword shrinks itself down to the size - of a dagger, shunting its extra mass off into yamlspace.
-“There!” it says breathlessly, opening its eye wearily. - “Now, Hardy Bear. You promised..” it continues, its eye - glinting with growing ferocity. “Let’s. STAB. THE HOBBIT!”
---While the wizard pressed Blavin about the crystal’s - secrets, Inky let their attention wander slightly around the - table.
-They had agreed that Master Corraidhín and Jarrod, being - most wise and well-spoken, would question Blavin about the - crystal before they set off on their next mission. The party - had also befriended the duck unofficially dubbed their - marketing manager after the fluffy little creature had trailed - Inky all the way back to the Milk Market. Said creature now - occupied a small office to one side of the building complete - with a fountain, feathered up pillow and all the rummy worms - it can eat. Inky had tried getting the duck to communicate - with words by making them little croutons etched with letters, - but the only ones they would gobble up were Q-U-A-C-K.
-
Your marketing manager moves into its office at the Milk - Market and seems to really be enjoying itself. It joins you at - Blavin’s table at Lucy’s Basement, cleaning its feathers and - chortling merrily to itself.
-You and your tablemates take turns feeding it croutons and - bits of soft pretzel, and it seems very happy and content with - that.
---A familiar prickle, but passed quickly — Inky had gotten - used to the glares directed at them by the sysorceor’s - gleaming sword and resisted returning the stare with an - eyeroll. Watching Stabby eyeing up their case manager over - Master Corraidhín’s shoulder reminded Inky of a conversation - they had overheard a few evenings ago between two pale coffin - sleepers about a new product from the hemogoblins that was - said to quench the thirst for longer than the leading brand. - They might be able to find some at the town of Plasma, which - sits by the Hartlands on the way to the shipwreck. It seems - the milky blood pudding could do with some improvement.
-
You note on Blavin’s map that the Hemogoblin region is - indeed on the way to the shipwreck. At least, it’s not that - far out of the way. You reckon their synthetic blood product - would indeed be a much better substitute for the real thing - than the milk you’ve been feeding the thirsty sword thus - far.
-Or, at the very least, you’ll get a new variant of the - blood pudding recipe you’ve been working on!
---Maybe someone else’s mood will be improved in the meantime? - Before setting out for their meeting with Blavin, Inky slipped - into the kitchens downstairs and left the empanada chef a - trick-and-treat. A plate of honeyed breadfruit and ghost - pepper tapas sat on an icebox atop a new pair of Blueberry - oven mittens with a pattern of tiny smiling green turtles. - Tucked inside one mitten was a slip of paper (regrettably - inedible) that simply read “BACK SOON :)”. A tapa recipe, - which included a note on adapting the toppings for pan frying, - was printed on the reverse in neat blocky letters and - sandalwood ink.
-
Enrique wakes in the middle of the night to start baking - the next day’s breads and empanadas. He frowns thoughtfully - when he sees yet another mysterious gift from across the room. - Again? What little elf must have taken up residence in his - shop? But his face cracks into a smile when he sees the - presentation and the oven mitts. And the smile becomes a - bonafide grin when he tastes the fare and finds the - recipe.
-He taps his chin thoughtfully with one green claw as he - skims the note and looks through his pantry. He chops some - veggies and starts pan frying them.
-Later, when the oven dings, he smiles to himself as he - pulls on the new turtle pattern oven mitts and opens it.
-> A) MORE QUESTIONING, OR B) TIME FOR SHIPWRECK?
- - ]]> ---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.
+Why no, we don’t mind much about competition, certainly + nothing wrong. Can’t imagine someone to put all of their eggs + in one basket, especially when whatever it is they desire is + so valuable.
+That said, our benefactor must be pretty eager to get these + crystals if he’s willing to send out team after team. I mean, + we’re team 43, that’s a lot of people to pay and a lot of + eagerness to find these crystals. Why is that? What benefit + are these shiny rocks to them? What even is their purpose in + retrieving them?
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.
+“Oh, no no no, child,” Blavin titters as he takes a sip of + his ever-present martini. “You must understand, the Benefactor + is a singularly dedicated collector, and has been for ages! + There are—and have been!—many other retrieval teams, yes. But + not all of them have been for the crystals. And some of them + were formed, active, and disbanded long before you or I + arrived on the scene.” He winks at you conspiratorially.
-- -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.
+I would postulate, based upon the magical wards we had to + bypass, the cadre of gaurds that needed to be dispatched, and + the gigantic moth monster that rested beneath it, that these + crystals aren’t meant to go anywhere.
+Now I’m not trying to point fingers here, morality is many + shades of gray, and it isn’t really my job to suss out what + you’re doing. But I’m a curious sysorceor, and when I see a + chance to learn I seize upon the moment. There’s something + here you’re not telling us, and I for one and keen to know + it.
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
+“I wouldn’t worry your wizened old brow about it,” Blavin + chuckles, sloshing his drink. “The Benefactor’s concern is + precisely the same as yours! These items are of enormous + cultural and historical significance, to say nothing of their + well of concentrated arcane energies. They’re dangerous just + sitting out there in the world. Who knows who might come + across one and use it for nefarious purposes.”
+Yam’L’s eye widens and it seems to shudder at the mere + suggestion of evil.
+“Did you say this one was in the hands of a giant moth?” + Blavin shudders with revulsion. “My word, man! Do you really + think such an overgrown insect is an appropriate guardian for + a beloved and dangerous cultural icon such as the Ginnarak + Crystal? Surely not!”
+“No,” he sits back with a satisfied smile, “I think we must + all agree that they are safer in the public collection of a + competent and benevolent curator. Then everybody can enjoy + them safely!”
+++META: I’m gonna preface the sword speech with this to make + it quicker to write
+Y’aml
+
+ I like what you’re putting down here, this guy is DEFINITELY + evil. Nobody asks loads of people to steal things for them + without being evil. I say we stab him, nice and good, right in + the gut. Maybe 6 or 7 times. I’m positive nobody will mind. + Evil people steal things, we saw that inky creature stealing + things from that vault, definitely evil. (singsong) Evil evil + evil, stab stab stab, make the evil go away with every little + stab~Corraidhin to Y’aml
+
+ Dear sysadmins, once again, inky is not evil. They were + borrowing something that had been cast on the ground, + abandoned. Giving a tea set a good home is far from evil. But + you might be onto something about this Blavin fellow, but we + can’t just stab someone in a busy pub! Besides you’re a sword, + and stabbing someone in a pub is the job of a dagger. So + unless you can transform into the Dagger of Y’aml I think + we’re out of luck here.
Yam’L gets a curious look in its eye at the suggestion. + “CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!” it cries directly into your mind. It + squeezes its eye shut and trembles with intense concentration. + With great effort, the sword shrinks itself down to the size + of a dagger, shunting its extra mass off into yamlspace.
+“There!” it says breathlessly, opening its eye wearily. + “Now, Hardy Bear. You promised..” it continues, its eye + glinting with growing ferocity. “Let’s. STAB. THE HOBBIT!”
+++While the wizard pressed Blavin about the crystal’s + secrets, Inky let their attention wander slightly around the + table.
+They had agreed that Master Corraidhín and Jarrod, being + most wise and well-spoken, would question Blavin about the + crystal before they set off on their next mission. The party + had also befriended the duck unofficially dubbed their + marketing manager after the fluffy little creature had trailed + Inky all the way back to the Milk Market. Said creature now + occupied a small office to one side of the building complete + with a fountain, feathered up pillow and all the rummy worms + it can eat. Inky had tried getting the duck to communicate + with words by making them little croutons etched with letters, + but the only ones they would gobble up were Q-U-A-C-K.
+
Your marketing manager moves into its office at the Milk + Market and seems to really be enjoying itself. It joins you at + Blavin’s table at Lucy’s Basement, cleaning its feathers and + chortling merrily to itself.
+You and your tablemates take turns feeding it croutons and + bits of soft pretzel, and it seems very happy and content with + that.
+++A familiar prickle, but passed quickly — Inky had gotten + used to the glares directed at them by the sysorceor’s + gleaming sword and resisted returning the stare with an + eyeroll. Watching Stabby eyeing up their case manager over + Master Corraidhín’s shoulder reminded Inky of a conversation + they had overheard a few evenings ago between two pale coffin + sleepers about a new product from the hemogoblins that was + said to quench the thirst for longer than the leading brand. + They might be able to find some at the town of Plasma, which + sits by the Hartlands on the way to the shipwreck. It seems + the milky blood pudding could do with some improvement.
+
You note on Blavin’s map that the Hemogoblin region is + indeed on the way to the shipwreck. At least, it’s not that + far out of the way. You reckon their synthetic blood product + would indeed be a much better substitute for the real thing + than the milk you’ve been feeding the thirsty sword thus + far.
+Or, at the very least, you’ll get a new variant of the + blood pudding recipe you’ve been working on!
+++Maybe someone else’s mood will be improved in the meantime? + Before setting out for their meeting with Blavin, Inky slipped + into the kitchens downstairs and left the empanada chef a + trick-and-treat. A plate of honeyed breadfruit and ghost + pepper tapas sat on an icebox atop a new pair of Blueberry + oven mittens with a pattern of tiny smiling green turtles. + Tucked inside one mitten was a slip of paper (regrettably + inedible) that simply read “BACK SOON :)”. A tapa recipe, + which included a note on adapting the toppings for pan frying, + was printed on the reverse in neat blocky letters and + sandalwood ink.
+
Enrique wakes in the middle of the night to start baking + the next day’s breads and empanadas. He frowns thoughtfully + when he sees yet another mysterious gift from across the room. + Again? What little elf must have taken up residence in his + shop? But his face cracks into a smile when he sees the + presentation and the oven mitts. And the smile becomes a + bonafide grin when he tastes the fare and finds the + recipe.
+He taps his chin thoughtfully with one green claw as he + skims the note and looks through his pantry. He chops some + veggies and starts pan frying them.
+Later, when the oven dings, he smiles to himself as he + pulls on the new turtle pattern oven mitts and opens it.
+> A) MORE QUESTIONING, OR B) TIME FOR SHIPWRECK?
+ href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00008.html">www ]]>--Corraidhin Shit, shit shit shit shit shit. - This is NOT good. Damn it Y’aml what was that? It wasn’t even - slightly stealthy
-Y’aml STAB, delightful blood. Stab the - flesh, tear the skin, pierce the fruit that gives us strength. - Drink the blood, consume their soul. More more more more more - more more more more
-Corraidhin (internal thought) Ugh my head, - it’s heavy, hurts. Misty and red? I can’t see straight, it’s - hard to think straight. That blasted sword, I thought for a - moment it, no, not think, it definitely did move on its own. - It became lighter and heavier. Pulling against it and it just - weighs itself down. This little magical bauble is definitely - cursed..
-Y’aml CURSED?! Rude Hardy Bear. All we did - was stab that evil hobbit. And it’s getting away! Stab him - again, taste his blood! The tavern gaurds are closing in, they - look like they’re trying to get rid of us, EVIL. Them trying - to stop us from getting that evil hobbit is EVIL, STAB - THEM.
-Corraidhin raises his free hand to his head as though - holding a wound and he groans in dismay as the dagger rises - again. It travels swiftly down towards Blavin, missing as he - slithers of the booth. And again, digging deep into the wooden - seat.
-Y’aml Disgusting wood, stab the flesh! - Stab the Hobbit Hardy Bear!
-But Blavin was inching further out of reach towards the - gaurds. In desperation the dagger begins swinging side to - side, making furtive slashing moves in the direction of the - guards. The party is safely behind Corraidhin, but innocent - patrons and the guards are directly in their sights.
-Corraidhin grabs his other hand and pulls hard, steadying - the swinging. STOP! I command you you blasted toothpick, STOP. - You’ve had your fun, now STOP. These people are innocent, this - man has done us no harm despite his potential “evils”, this is - entirely uncalled for!
-Y’aml NO!!! EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. EVIL. - STAB.
-The dull voice of the magical dagger rises, angry, - insistent. It consumes the last of Corraidhin’s mental - strength. All he hears is EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. Yet he - clings to his spare arm trying desparately to resist. At this - point the party and the tavern has cleared a wide path around - the sysorceor as he struggles with himself, mumbling, - sometimes yelling. EVIL. STAB. EVIL. STAB. NO WE WILL NOT. - EVIL. INNOCENT. STAB BLOOD DRINK. EVIL. EVIL EVIL EVIL STAB - IT. MAKE IT BLEED. I WILL NO.. STAB IT. STAB HIM.
-The voice seems to change, it dies down. Not yelling, but - commanding. Firm, calm, sane.
-Stab them, stab them, make them bleed. Drink the blood, - consume the soul, free them from their evil being. Stab them, - stab them… over and over and over, as the sysorceor approaches - Blavin and the guards with a malevolent look in his ruby red - eyes.
+Inky stares down at the package, weighing it on one + hand.
+It was lighter than it should be given the density of the + contents within, wrapped in straw and thick brown + weight-absorbent parcel paper for dry goods. Most of the + clientele were merchants and cultists from other parts of the + continent who ordered pallets to be shipped back from the port + town and sold to select boutique grocers or spilled on altars. + Inside was a block of congealed synthetic blood shaped like a + mud brick, the dark crimson almost black under the shop’s dim + light.
+It was sheer happenstance that Inky had found this + particular supplier. Having been informed heir boat to the + shipwreck would not arrive for several hours, the members of + their merry tea party had wandered off to enjoy the local + sights while they waited. Inky had inquired about the + hemogoblins and learned in passing that there was a district + at the western edge of the town where a smaller group had set + up warehouses, which would save them a two-day trip deep into + the Hartlands. The hemogoblins in the district were primarily + wholesalers, and it had taken some convincing before one of + the proprietors agreed to sell a block of it, along with + assurances Inky would purchase exclusively from him next time + and in larger quantities.
+Thin fingers fiddle with the string before the package was + set to one side.
+What were they doing?
+If quenching the thirst were so simple, wouldn’t any + student of magic have already thought of it, let alone an + experienced sysorceror? In all likelihood he had already known + the inevitable, but was too polite to refuse Inky’s funny + concoctions. Maybe deep down, Inky already knew too, but + didn’t want to say it out loud. That the long feather they + thought they had seen among the tea leaves was actually a + dagger. That they hadn’t wanted to admit some problems could + not be whisked away with some tincture or another. That they + had failed, again.
+They hadn’t searched enough for better ingredients to go + into the pudding, hadn’t reacted fast enough after noticing + the sword had abruptly disappeared, hadn’t thrown the large + platter of mouldy meat the terrified waitress next to them had + been holding at Blavin’s head, or something. The sword had + gotten what it demanded, and Inky couldn’t be angry with it — + it had never been subtle about what it wanted. Had the blood + pudding worsened the effects? Potions had never been on Inky’s + menu. Brewing inks and teas with certain mild effects was + straightforward enough, but curing chronic ailments was firmly + in healers’ territory and just as bewildering. While it may be + true nobody could be held to account for the actions of + another not in full control of themselves, and hardly those of + a rogue weapon with a mind of its own, sticking their nose in + other people’s affairs was the surest way to get into trouble, + a fact Inky still has difficulty learning after decades of + wandering the continent.
+Would this substrate even work? Maybe it acted differently + for cursed objects than coffin sleepers. Having brought it + back and now aboard the ship, how would they even give it to + the wizard? Should they wait and made sure Master Corraidhín + was truly rested and recovered, despite his insistence he was + more than fine? Would it be an insulting reminder of weakness, + despite the wizard having proven unusual mental fortitude in + staving off the screams for blood as long as he had? Was this + more of the same, adding to what they had (not) done?
+After a long moment, Inky rolls the package with the + producers’ leaflet haphazardly in an old sailor’s rags still + reeking of cheap alcohol, and passing by the wizard’s empty + cabin on the way to the deck, places the messy bundle on the + floorboards two steps from the door. Let the fates decide this + one, because Inky’s magic 0 ball sure doesn’t make the best + life choices.
~
---Inky moves to stand next to Blavin and the nightclub - bouncers. Tossing a tiny “see-eye” container they had borrowed - from Master Corraidhín at him, Inky looks the sysorceor in the - eye and says, “You are not your sword.”
-Watching the wizard’s expression, Inky continues, more - quietly, “If Master Corraidhín truly wishes to end the hobbit, - a mere imp would not stop him, but likewise, whatever he sets - his mind to do, a dagger cannot stop him either.”
-
~
---Jarrod steps gently into the fray and activates his - FASCINATING CHARM, attempting to draw all eyes to him. He - carefully avoids the wild swinging of the - once-sword-now-dagger.
-“I think,” he rumbles gently, “we could all use a drink - over the other end of the room. I’m buying, and I’ll spin you - all a tale of wonder! A tale of a wanderer, and of a war - hammer, and the first of their wild battles together!”
-Leaning over to whisper urgently in Corraidhín’s ear: - “Friend, I do not know what occurs here, but pull yourself - together. We can later sate our blood lust in more appropriate - places!” Jarrod lends a sly wink in the sysorcerer’s - direction, one that promises adventure later.
-
The tavern guards tense, but pause their advance, as the - crazed mage’s friends position themselves protectively around - him and try to placate him. They wouldn’t want to engage a - master sysorcerer on the best of days, much less one with some - kind of malevolent blood dagger in the middle of a psychotic - break. If his compatriots can handle him without them having - to interfere, all the better.
-The duck waddles up next to Inky and quacks softly, - pleadingly at Corraidhin. Only the Ornithologer in the corner - can understand its words when it says, “As your marketing - manager I must strongly advise against this course of - action!”
-Seated in the corner next to the Ornithologer is a shaggy - groll dressed in a dusty, faded poncho and a wide brimmed hat; - and a greasy, matted gnu, dressed in black ceremonial - robes.
-The groll discreetly draws its poncho back revealing a - bandoleer of wands and draws a cracklestick and points it at - the sysorcer. The wand starts to hum and glow as it charges up - for a blast.
-The gnu slaps the groll’s wrist, and immediately launches - into a tirade against the cracklestick’s manufacturer’s - proprietary spell slotting algorithm, and honestly how can you - possibly justify your choices when there are open source - alternatives available?
-The groll rolls its eyes, obviously having been on the - receiving end of this particular lecture before, and tries to - slap away the gnu’s grasping hands. The ensuing scuffle - threatens to turn this powder keg of a situation into a full - blown conflagration until Jarrod actives his FASCINATING - CHARM, commanding the attention of the entire room.
-The gnu freezes with its hands around the groll’s throat. - The groll halts with fists full of the gnu’s beard. A grub - smoking a hookah pauses with the mouthpiece raised to its - pursed lips. A distracted waitress on roller skates crashes - right into the bar.
---As though in a trance Corraidhin continues to yell STAB. - THEM. STAB. IT. cutting wildly at the air before him. As Inky - whispers to him his expression changes, first a grimace, then - a whimper. As Jarrod leads the patrons away from the sysorceor - he begins to tremble and cower away from himself, away from - everyone. His ruby red eyes dart back and forth between his - friends and the patrons, like a frightened animal searching - for an escape. He pulls the dagger into himself, as though - sheilding it from his surroundings.
-What.. what’s going on, he mutters feebly to himself. - Everything is a blurr. Uncertain of where he is or what’s - going on, Corraidhin thumbs the dagger, caressing the large - ruby embedded in the hilt. Y’aml, you’re still here, good - good, the syscoreor croons.
-Standing up straight his eyes lock with Jarrod as the Bard - glances over his shoulder, momentarily distracted from his - oration, worried about his companion.
-I.. ugh, Corraidhin grabs his head as though in pain, and - collapses to the floor.
-
Corraidhin hits the floor and the dagger, now bereft of the - well of emotion it had been drawing from, grows still. The eye - closes and it seems to sigh happily. “Good job, Hardy Bear. - You have spilled the blood of evil.” And it sleeps, inert, - lifeless.
-Corraidhin is on the ground cradling the dagger.
-Most of the patrons are still fascinated by Jarrod.
-Blavin is squirming around on the floor gibbering about - reassigning your case.
-The duck has found a toppled plate of corn chips and is - happily snacking away.
-You feel like your welcome at Lucy’s Basement has been, for - the moment, overstayed.
+Blavin has arranged transportation to the shipwreck ahead + of time. All you have to do is head down to the docks and meet + your contact, Three-Fingered Gerald, at a seedy dive bar named + Inquire Within Upon Everything.
+Inquire Within is as eclectic and gaudy as the name would + imply. The bar serves as an extensive and impressive piece of + living documentation, drawing heavily on the port town’s + cosmopolitan mixture of culture. Every kind of style, cuisine, + decor, and beverage can be found here mishmashed together + irregardless of good taste. Its contents are encyclopedic and + claustrophobic. And yet it is not without its own peculiar + brand of overwhelming, garish charm.
+You find Mister Three-Fingered at the bar entertaining his + fellow patrons with a grotesque sleight of hand routine that + involves passing his gold-plated false eye from its socket, to + either hand, inside his mouth, and back with lots of flourish, + fanfare, and misdirection along the way.
+He is a merry, boisterous sailor short one eye, half an + ear, several fingers, and—he confesses to you—the heel of his + left foot. “It’s why I walk so slow, you see.” The other + barflies call him “Lucky” Three-Fingered Gerald. Because a + certain kind of man—and Gerald is one of them—can never have + enough nicknames. After you buy him a drink or three, he + escorts you out of Inquire Within and to the slip where the + sloop Diamond Howler is docked. Its captain, Enid + Barlow, welcomes you aboard.
+Before long, Diamond Howler pulls out under the + command of Captain Barlow and First Mate “Lucky” + Three-Fingered Gerald. The site isn’t too far off the coast, + and you arrive fairly quickly.
+“Aye, here she is. The SS RSS.” says Captain Barlow + mournfully. “You can’t see her from up here. But you rest + assured, she’s down there, resting on the seabed. She was the + best cargo runner on the Sugrin back in her day! Distributing + goods up and down the coast. Until the day she disappeared. + Nobody knew what happened to her, not for sure. Still don’t. + But at least we know where she wound up!”
+While the captain reminisces, Three-Fingered Gerald drags a + large water tank across the deck, sloshing water over the edge + with each step. Translucent orb-like jellyfish wobble around + and bump into each other inside the tank, releasing little + effervescent bubbles that fizzle and pop when they collide. + “Here we go!” announces Mister Three-Fingered, depositing the + tank of jellies in front of you. “Sailed through a big bloom + of breathing bells just last week, didn’t we! Managed to scoop + up a whole bunch of the little suckers. You ever use a + breathing bell before? No? Aw, it’s easy! Ya just pull one on + over your head like a hood, and it’ll breathe for ya while + you’re below the waves!”
WHAT DO YOU DO
+NOTE: We just covered a lot of narrative ground. Feel free + to react to anything that happened between arriving at the + docks, meeting Gerald and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding + the Diamond Howler, and sailing to the site of the wreck.
+ href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00020.html">www ]]>--Inky flips backwards and up, narrowly avoiding the - tentacles’ grasp. From their courier bag they shake out an - inflatable bubblebee[1] of the sort made for aquatic camping. - It is one of the fancier models provided to each member of - their party courtesy of the well-endowed Benefactor. They yank - on one of the cords and scramble inside, hastily closing the - flap as the bubblebee rapidly draws in water and fills out to - its full size.
-The bubblebee rises as Inky pulls on the flippers and - allows the drifter to buoy the bubble upwards, a bat from the - end of one tentacle sending the bubblebee forward a short - distance before it slows above the flailing tentacles. Inky - switches on the lights to try to get a clearer view of the - source of the tentacles.
-[1] Specific features of bubblebees vary among makers, but - they generally have a transparent or translucent spherical - body, a pair of small translucent wings that act as flippers, - an opening flap at the back with a short rudder attached, and - two cords inside at the front near the top which when pulled - inflate the bubble with the surrounding air or water. Premium - versions might also include headlights, a buzzer, built-in - filtration, improved insulation, a drifter and thruster. Like - tents they come in various sizes, from small ones that can fit - one or two people at average elven height, to larger ones for - group outings. Their portability and rugged durability make - them very popular among tourists and campers who can enjoy a - range of water sports, such as water walking on the surface, - riding the bubble down river rapids, or bobbing along - underwater to watch the sea life wander by.
-
Inky climbs into the inflatable bubblebee just in the nick - of time. A tentacle bats them a short distance away, and then - the apparatus’s lights cut on and illuminate the murky - water.
-You see the tentacles recede into the depths into, from - this distance, what looks like the outline of a shipwreck.
-At the moment, you are out of reach of the tentacles. And - the bubblebee affords you some extra maneuverability.
---Corraidhin eyes inky as they drift away in their bubblebee. - “hmm a wonderful idea, that seems safe, but I need to get in - closer.”
-While Inky drifts away Corraidhin swims down and towards - the tentacles to get a better view of whatever creature stole - his new found bear friends. “I simply cannot bear any harm to - come to my bears!” As he approaches the creature he prepares a - spell should he need to vanquish the monster.
--(fn vanquish [target] - (match target.state - [:living] (searing-bolt {target target - radius "narrow" - intensity "high"}) - [:undead] (smite {target target - deity "Larani"})))
Corraidhin charges up a spell!
-The tentacles pull your dear bear friends downward, and you - struggle to get a view of whatever creature is abducting - them.
-The long, slender tentacles appear to originate from within - or behind a large sunken ship!
-Could it be the SS RSS?
---Gabs was stunned by the majesty of the two bears, and upon - seeing these two beautiful creatures be pulled down, got - unreasonably angry. She made sure that the breathing bell was - properly attached to her head (a marvelous thing, she thought. - She had always wondered what it would be like to have a - jellyfish on her head).
-Gabs bundled and tied up her skirt, as she started to bolt - toward the edge of the ship. She reached into her purse and - moved away all the loose candy and pulled out two long - stiletto daggers. She begins stabbing with unusual precision - at the tentacles reaching up on the ship.
-She yells, “Come’on y’all! We gotta save those babies!”
-She dives in.
-
Prior to the incident, Gabs would have noticed that there - was a very slight, wobbly weight to the jellyfish. Kind of - like getting a gentle hug from a helmet of warm spaghetti.
-Some loose candy floats up and away as you rummage through - your purse, the brightly colored wrappers attracting the - attention of a curious passing manta ray. It glides over and - has a nibble.
-You fetch your stiletto daggers and start stabbing at the - long, slender tentacles. Your unusual precision causes the - tentacles to coil and retreat, releasing the merbear in the - process. It shouts through its tears, “My brother!” and dives - back into the fray, fighting to free the tardigrade.
-From here, you can see that the tentacles seem to come from - the wreckage of a large ship lying on its side on ocean - floor.
-META: Gabs rolls a 6 on “Do Anything 1” - and gains a new skill: Stabbing 2
---Seeing his new comrade enter the fray heroically Corraidhin - gathers himself. “I suppose this is no time for errant - curiosity, can’t have anyone getting hurt after all.”
-Ensuring that he doesn’t hit either Inky nor Gabs as they - near the creature, Corraidhin throws the spell he prepared in - the direction of the center of the tentacles. (vanquish - “tentacles”) And releases a pinpoint thread of searing energy - from his palm, guiding it through the mass of tentacles in a - random and chaotic pattern, attempting to sever as many - tentacles as possible.
-As that goes on the sysercoerr calculates his retreat plan, - he won’t be able to prepare another spell like that on the - fly, far too meticulous work to do mid combat. As soon as the - spell runs out, best case will be to retreat somewhere out of - reach, or as far away as is possible there.
-
Corraidhín takes careful aim fires off a searing bolt into - the center of the mass of squirming, reaching tentacles. The - bolt of energy bounces from tentacle to tentacle creating a - chaotic web of energy.
-One of the final bolts of energy pierces the tentacle that - happens to be gripping the tardigrade. It releases the water - bear, but not before the tardigrade takes the full brunt of - the final blast of the dying searing bolt. It cries out and - curls up into a ball. Motionless, it starts sinking downward. - “BROTHER!” the merbear swims after it heedless of any nearby - danger.
-A wayward crackle of energy blasts outward toward a giant - manta ray happily crunching on a piece of hard candy. It flaps - out of the way at the last minute and continues to angrily - enjoy its candy, glaring at you quite indignantly.
-META: Corraidhín rolls a 2 for “Do - Anything 1”, which means things go bad, and gains 1 xp for a - total of 1 xp. You can spend xp to turn any die into a six for - the purpose of advancement.
---While Master Corraidhín and Gabs confront the tentacles to - rescue the bears, Inky looks around the sea floor. Maybe if - they found suitable replacements for the bears, the tentacles - might be distracted long enough to release the bears, or - provide an opening advantage for one of their party?
-A small distance from the fray, Inky finds a load of - discarded bottles among a large pile of other trash carried - there by the push and pull between the water currents and a - hot spring. Gathering up some bottles, Inky ties them together - with twine in singles and small clusters until they resemble - two large, crudely-made multi-coloured tanokuma[1].
-With some difficulty due to the additional weight, Inky - attaches the tanokuma to the back of their bubblebee and drags - them back above the tentacles, roughly near the spot where the - previous bears were taken. When the valiant members of their - party dive to one side for another strike, Inky loosens the - rope around the “bears” and lets them sink down within reach - of the tentacles.
-[1] First featured in the garden play Teatime with - Tanokuma, the fluffy purple, jam-grabbing, tea-guzzling - bear became an overnight hit among children as well as the - fashion-conscious youth who frequent the trendy “Shin-ku” - district of Vay’Nullar.
-
The decoy tanokuma float above the tentacles as they - retreat from Gabs’s stabbses and Corraidhin’s bolts. They - grope about weakly, wrap themselves around the tanokuma, and - finally withdraw.
-You can now clearly see the wreckage of the SS RSS. The - tentacles—and whatever beast they belong to—is either within, - behind, or below the ship. It is definitely ship - adjacent wherever and whatever it is. The large - double-masted ship is lying on its side, teetering - precariously on the edge of a large, deep ocean trench. There - is a large hole in its hull providing unfettered access to its - insides.
-The tardigrade is sinking inertly toward the ship deck, and - the merbear is swimming blindly after it.
-WHAT DO YOU DO
- - ]]> ---Inky stares down at the package, weighing it on one - hand.
-It was lighter than it should be given the density of the - contents within, wrapped in straw and thick brown - weight-absorbent parcel paper for dry goods. Most of the - clientele were merchants and cultists from other parts of the - continent who ordered pallets to be shipped back from the port - town and sold to select boutique grocers or spilled on altars. - Inside was a block of congealed synthetic blood shaped like a - mud brick, the dark crimson almost black under the shop’s dim - light.
-It was sheer happenstance that Inky had found this - particular supplier. Having been informed heir boat to the - shipwreck would not arrive for several hours, the members of - their merry tea party had wandered off to enjoy the local - sights while they waited. Inky had inquired about the - hemogoblins and learned in passing that there was a district - at the western edge of the town where a smaller group had set - up warehouses, which would save them a two-day trip deep into - the Hartlands. The hemogoblins in the district were primarily - wholesalers, and it had taken some convincing before one of - the proprietors agreed to sell a block of it, along with - assurances Inky would purchase exclusively from him next time - and in larger quantities.
-Thin fingers fiddle with the string before the package was - set to one side.
-What were they doing?
-If quenching the thirst were so simple, wouldn’t any - student of magic have already thought of it, let alone an - experienced sysorceror? In all likelihood he had already known - the inevitable, but was too polite to refuse Inky’s funny - concoctions. Maybe deep down, Inky already knew too, but - didn’t want to say it out loud. That the long feather they - thought they had seen among the tea leaves was actually a - dagger. That they hadn’t wanted to admit some problems could - not be whisked away with some tincture or another. That they - had failed, again.
-They hadn’t searched enough for better ingredients to go - into the pudding, hadn’t reacted fast enough after noticing - the sword had abruptly disappeared, hadn’t thrown the large - platter of mouldy meat the terrified waitress next to them had - been holding at Blavin’s head, or something. The sword had - gotten what it demanded, and Inky couldn’t be angry with it — - it had never been subtle about what it wanted. Had the blood - pudding worsened the effects? Potions had never been on Inky’s - menu. Brewing inks and teas with certain mild effects was - straightforward enough, but curing chronic ailments was firmly - in healers’ territory and just as bewildering. While it may be - true nobody could be held to account for the actions of - another not in full control of themselves, and hardly those of - a rogue weapon with a mind of its own, sticking their nose in - other people’s affairs was the surest way to get into trouble, - a fact Inky still has difficulty learning after decades of - wandering the continent.
-Would this substrate even work? Maybe it acted differently - for cursed objects than coffin sleepers. Having brought it - back and now aboard the ship, how would they even give it to - the wizard? Should they wait and made sure Master Corraidhín - was truly rested and recovered, despite his insistence he was - more than fine? Would it be an insulting reminder of weakness, - despite the wizard having proven unusual mental fortitude in - staving off the screams for blood as long as he had? Was this - more of the same, adding to what they had (not) done?
-After a long moment, Inky rolls the package with the - producers’ leaflet haphazardly in an old sailor’s rags still - reeking of cheap alcohol, and passing by the wizard’s empty - cabin on the way to the deck, places the messy bundle on the - floorboards two steps from the door. Let the fates decide this - one, because Inky’s magic 0 ball sure doesn’t make the best - life choices.
-
Blavin has arranged transportation to the shipwreck ahead - of time. All you have to do is head down to the docks and meet - your contact, Three-Fingered Gerald, at a seedy dive bar named - Inquire Within Upon Everything.
-Inquire Within is as eclectic and gaudy as the name would - imply. The bar serves as an extensive and impressive piece of - living documentation, drawing heavily on the port town’s - cosmopolitan mixture of culture. Every kind of style, cuisine, - decor, and beverage can be found here mishmashed together - irregardless of good taste. Its contents are encyclopedic and - claustrophobic. And yet it is not without its own peculiar - brand of overwhelming, garish charm.
-You find Mister Three-Fingered at the bar entertaining his - fellow patrons with a grotesque sleight of hand routine that - involves passing his gold-plated false eye from its socket, to - either hand, inside his mouth, and back with lots of flourish, - fanfare, and misdirection along the way.
-He is a merry, boisterous sailor short one eye, half an - ear, several fingers, and—he confesses to you—the heel of his - left foot. “It’s why I walk so slow, you see.” The other - barflies call him “Lucky” Three-Fingered Gerald. Because a - certain kind of man—and Gerald is one of them—can never have - enough nicknames. After you buy him a drink or three, he - escorts you out of Inquire Within and to the slip where the - sloop Diamond Howler is docked. Its captain, Enid - Barlow, welcomes you aboard.
-Before long, Diamond Howler pulls out under the - command of Captain Barlow and First Mate “Lucky” - Three-Fingered Gerald. The site isn’t too far off the coast, - and you arrive fairly quickly.
-“Aye, here she is. The SS RSS.” says Captain Barlow - mournfully. “You can’t see her from up here. But you rest - assured, she’s down there, resting on the seabed. She was the - best cargo runner on the Sugrin back in her day! Distributing - goods up and down the coast. Until the day she disappeared. - Nobody knew what happened to her, not for sure. Still don’t. - But at least we know where she wound up!”
-While the captain reminisces, Three-Fingered Gerald drags a - large water tank across the deck, sloshing water over the edge - with each step. Translucent orb-like jellyfish wobble around - and bump into each other inside the tank, releasing little - effervescent bubbles that fizzle and pop when they collide. - “Here we go!” announces Mister Three-Fingered, depositing the - tank of jellies in front of you. “Sailed through a big bloom - of breathing bells just last week, didn’t we! Managed to scoop - up a whole bunch of the little suckers. You ever use a - breathing bell before? No? Aw, it’s easy! Ya just pull one on - over your head like a hood, and it’ll breathe for ya while - you’re below the waves!”
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-NOTE: We just covered a lot of narrative ground. Feel free - to react to anything that happened between arriving at the - docks, meeting Gerald and drinking at Inquire Within, boarding - the Diamond Howler, and sailing to the site of the wreck.
- - ]]> -Total length: 27323 words / 116 minute read.
-There have been 112 messages posted over 117 days since the first -post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .95.
+Total length: 27963 words / 119 minute read.
+There have been 115 messages posted over 119 days since the first +post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .96.
This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over email.
@@ -3248,6 +3249,77 @@ trench.WHAT DO YOU DO
+++At Master Corraidhín’s confirmation of the crystal’s presence within +the shipwreck, Inky moves the bubblebee closer above the opening in the +hull, adjusting the angle of the headlights so that a little more light +falls over the gaping hole should the rest of the party wish to enter +the ship through it.
+Next, Inky pulls out some wasabi pears from their bag, biting into +one before dropping the others one at a time several paces apart, +starting near the bow of the ship in a trail until a few roll down into +the hole and land in a hollow thonks somewhere inside the ship.
+Inky then settles near the opening, partly-eaten pear in hand and +waits for the source of the rustling sounds to emerge, if it decides to +emerge at all.
+
From their vantage point, Inky sees a figure crawl up onto the deck +of the ship through a hatch from somewhere below. It appears to be +wearing a breathing bell and a vest of weighted sandbags similar to +yours. It is carrying a bulky bundle tied to its waist by a cord.
+It freezes when it sees the merbear and the tardigrade on ship deck. +But then the bears are teleported to safety a few meters from the +inkling. The figure looks around curiously and shrugs. It casts off some +sandbags and starts rising up through the water toward the happy manta +ray and the restless horkusgrampus. It looks down in your direction as +it goes. Its face is somewhat blurred and obscured by the breathing +bell, but you see a glint of gold as the light of your bubblebee +reflects off one of its eyes.
+++Ah ha! Our prize is near then. And it looks like that bolt forced +that squid monster thing back into its hole. Likely we’ll be alright to +plum the depths here.
+Thank goodness our bears are safe, I should probably move them +somewhere out of harms way, just in case.
++#!/bin/sh +safety=$(find /ocean/* -perm 644 | head -n 1) +for bear in merbear tardigrade; do + sudo usermod -a -G party $bear + sudo scp /ocean/shipwreck/$bear /ocean/$safety + sudo chown corraidhin:party /ocean/$safety +done +sudo chown -R 770 /ocean/$safetyThat should ward them sufficiently, now only the party members can +come and go freely, and they’re part of the party. I’m positive nobody +will complain, they might, but there won’t be anymore bolt mishaps this +way at least..
+As Corraidhin finishes his relocation spell he creeps closer to the +hull of the ship. “Lets see what we’re dealing with here..” he sticks +his head into the opening looking about inside the wreckage, a small orb +of light illuminates the tip of his right hand pointer finger, and he +uses it to carefully probe around the opening as though it were a flash +light.
+
Corraidhín cautiously explores the breach in the hull of the SS RSS. +You poke your head in and see the cargo hold of the ship. The remains of +some of the ship crew are here, long since picked clean by ocean +critters. Their bones are bleached white and they grin mirthlessly at +you. They are nestled in and amongst the spilled contents of several +large chests: jewelry, gold coins, precious stones litter the floor of +the ship.
+You do not see any lumpy, multi-faceted, blue and gold crystal melon +here.
+The ship is resting mostly on its side, so its sloping “floor” is +actually the ship wall. The hatch up to the upper deck is to your right, +and as you enter the hold, someone or something shuts the hatch +closed.
+A skeleton by the hull entrance crawls forward, trying to block your +exit. And two more start to claw themselves up and free of the ship’s +treasure, and they start to advance toward you.
+WHAT DO YOU DO
+Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria