From fe97c1d1f1b76024e06af5c6604652a0892e492d Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: "Christopher P. Brown" Date: Mon, 7 Nov 2022 09:00:08 -0700 Subject: [PATCH] 31 --- basement.order | 1 + src/epistolary/00031.md | 53 ++ src/notes.md | 1 + www/index.html | 42 +- www/rss.xml | 1575 ++++++++++++++++++++------------------- www/spoilers.html | 43 +- 6 files changed, 951 insertions(+), 764 deletions(-) create mode 100644 src/epistolary/00031.md diff --git a/basement.order b/basement.order index d3a8197..b583fb4 100644 --- a/basement.order +++ b/basement.order @@ -25,6 +25,7 @@ src/epistolary/00027.md src/epistolary/00028.md src/epistolary/00029.md src/epistolary/00030.md +src/epistolary/00031.md src/bestiary/index.md src/bestiary/aur.md src/bestiary/blahoblin.md diff --git a/src/epistolary/00031.md b/src/epistolary/00031.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3ab8e21 --- /dev/null +++ b/src/epistolary/00031.md @@ -0,0 +1,53 @@ +--- +title: 00031 +created: Mon, 07 Nov 2022 08:16:11 -0700 +updated: Mon, 07 Nov 2022 08:16:14 -0700 +public: yes +syndicated: yes +--- +### 00031 {#00031} + +> Inky follows behind the merbear at a healthy 2 meters' distance +> away in the bubblebee, the headlights illuminating a moderate +> distance ahead of the distraught bear as it darts after its +> brother. +> +> As the merbear homes in on the tardigrade near the ship deck, Inky +> keeps a lookout for any signs of movement or tentacles from behind +> or below the shipwreck. The bubblebee's headlights cast an eerie +> shadow from the ship's double masts even as it partly lights up the +> rim of a gaping hole in the hull. + +The tardigrade, still tucked into a ball, lands on the ship deck with +a gentle thud. It rolls a couple of times and finally comes to rest +against the rigging. The merbear reaches it a moment later and +cradles its jelly-like body gently in its bear arms. "My brother!" it +cries. "My dear bear brother!" + +The tardigrade slowly uncurls and stretches out and looks around, +disoriented and bleary-eyed. It waggles its eight arms around +experimentally, closes and opens its claws as though kneading the +water. "Brother?" says the merbear in astonishment. + +"I am okay brother!" says the tardigrade. "We water bears are very +hardy and resilient! It will take more than a mere other worldly +tentacle attack and an arcane electric blast to do me in!" + +While the bears are having their teary-eyed reunion, you sense +movement in the shadows deep in the ocean trench, over which protrude +the ship's masts. Your lights don't penetrate the darkness enough to +see what it was. But it was large. The very stuff that thalassophobia +is made of. + +You also think you see a flash of gold as the light of the bubblebee +reflects off of something inside the ship through the hole in the +hull. Could it be the second Ginnarak Crystal? + +The breach in the hull is easily large enough to admit a medium sized +creature such as an inkling in a bubblebee apparatus. Or a sysorcer +or a lanky old half-devil tavern owner. + +WHAT DO YOU DO + +[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00056.html) + diff --git a/src/notes.md b/src/notes.md index 782ed1e..cea4a48 100644 --- a/src/notes.md +++ b/src/notes.md @@ -22,6 +22,7 @@ Upcoming NPCs and/or monsters - [ ] Cyber Woman With Corn! -- - [ ] oracle - - [ ] corn smut? - +- [ ] harrowkrake - [x] gnu zealots - [x] three fingered gerald diff --git a/www/index.html b/www/index.html index f088557..7bd48c4 100644 --- a/www/index.html +++ b/www/index.html @@ -250,6 +250,7 @@ of the Were-Hare
  • 00028
  • 00029
  • 00030
    • +
  • 00031
  • Bestiary
  • Geography
    • @@ -259,8 +260,8 @@ of the Were-Hare

    Stats

    -

    Total length: 26483 words / 113 minute read.

    -

    There have been 107 messages posted over 116 days since the first +

    Total length: 26822 words / 114 minute read.

    +

    There have been 108 messages posted over 117 days since the first post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .92.

    About

    This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over @@ -3155,6 +3156,43 @@ merbear is swimming blindly after it.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    +

    00031

    +
    +

    Inky follows behind the merbear at a healthy 2 meters’ distance away +in the bubblebee, the headlights illuminating a moderate distance ahead +of the distraught bear as it darts after its brother.

    +

    As the merbear homes in on the tardigrade near the ship deck, Inky +keeps a lookout for any signs of movement or tentacles from behind or +below the shipwreck. The bubblebee’s headlights cast an eerie shadow +from the ship’s double masts even as it partly lights up the rim of a +gaping hole in the hull.

    +
    +

    The tardigrade, still tucked into a ball, lands on the ship deck with +a gentle thud. It rolls a couple of times and finally comes to rest +against the rigging. The merbear reaches it a moment later and cradles +its jelly-like body gently in its bear arms. “My brother!” it cries. “My +dear bear brother!”

    +

    The tardigrade slowly uncurls and stretches out and looks around, +disoriented and bleary-eyed. It waggles its eight arms around +experimentally, closes and opens its claws as though kneading the water. +“Brother?” says the merbear in astonishment.

    +

    “I am okay brother!” says the tardigrade. “We water bears are very +hardy and resilient! It will take more than a mere other worldly +tentacle attack and an arcane electric blast to do me in!”

    +

    While the bears are having their teary-eyed reunion, you sense +movement in the shadows deep in the ocean trench, over which protrude +the ship’s masts. Your lights don’t penetrate the darkness enough to see +what it was. But it was large. The very stuff that thalassophobia is +made of.

    +

    You also think you see a flash of gold as the light of the bubblebee +reflects off of something inside the ship through the hole in the hull. +Could it be the second Ginnarak Crystal?

    +

    The breach in the hull is easily large enough to admit a medium sized +creature such as an inkling in a bubblebee apparatus. Or a sysorcer or a +lanky old half-devil tavern owner.

    +

    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 553d433..5c794ee 100644 --- a/www/rss.xml +++ b/www/rss.xml @@ -81,119 +81,228 @@ - 28 + 26 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 28 - Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 + 26 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600 - Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 -0600 + Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600 00028 +

    00026

    -

    a new player enters the chat

    -

    Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all - grown adults now, and she no longer wanted to toil away - running a business. When she initially shuttered her little - tavern, she thought she might just retire. She made it two - whole years of working in a garden, occasionally seeing - grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided - she needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a - nearby port town. She was sure to find something fun to do - there.

    -

    Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of - debauchery wafting from within made her miss her days - gossiping at her tavern. She enters and orders a terrible - drink and listens and watches.

    -

    Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she - decides, “I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that - sounds exciting!”

    -

    Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join - on the journey!

    -

    Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to - schmooze and have fun!

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    ~

    -

    Meta: a warm welcome to the latest member of our tea party! - This is a short post to help smooth the temporal jumps between - the recent narratives so far. As Inky reaches the deck, they - see Gabs approaching from the other side of the ship as well, - and flashes them a grin in greeting. After listening to the - captain petering on about the glorious days of the now sunken - ship below, while tinkering with the bell’s tentacles — being - rewarded with a mild zap and marginally better fit for the - effort — Inky turns to the party. “When you’re ready.”

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    -

    You reach into the tank and discover that grabbing a - breathing bell takes some finesse. They are very slippery! But - you get the hang of it and make a ladle out of your hands and - scoop one up.

    -

    “Okay now!” laughs Three-Fingered Gerald. He gives you a - wink, but it’s easy to miss because of the eyepatch. “Don’t - put it on until right before you jump. It won’t be able to - breathe for you until you’re in the water. And this!” he - continues, fitting a heavy, padded vest around your shoulders, - “will carry you down.” It is a vest of many pockets, each one - holding a small dense sandbag the size of your hand. “When - you’re ready to come back up, just start dropping ballast, - right?”

    -

    You hop up on the ship railing and pull the breathing bell - on over your head. It immediately contracts and squeezes and - hugs your head like a second skin, and its stubby little - tentacles grab hold around your jawline, and it feels like you - have a wet plastic bag clinging to your face, and you think - you might have made a grave mistake. Resisting the urge to - panic, you push off the railing and jump overboard. You are - briefly air born and then profoundly waterbound, crashing - through the surface of the sea into the briny soup below.

    -

    The oxygen starts to flow as the breathing bell begins to - do its job. As you sink, you feel as though you are floating - through space, entering another world.

    -

    After a while you start to hear voices arguing in the - distance. As you get closer, two large shapes start to come - into focus. The first is a hulking, hairless merbear. Top half - (hairless) bear, bottom half fish. The second figure is a - tardigrade the size of a large merbear. It has eight jointless - legs, each tipped with four sharp claws. It wriggles and - wobbles like jelly as it gesticulates.

    -

    “No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water - Bear, after all!”

    -

    “Hornswoggle and poppycock! It is I who am the Bear of the - Sea! I am half bear after all! You’re just some kind of - segmented nematode or something.”

    -

    The tardigrade quivers with indignation. “I’ll have you - know I’m a panarthropod, thank you very much. And this is the - ideal physical body! You may not like it, but this is what - peak performance looks like. I’ve lived under the polar ice - cap, and in a sulfurous mountaintop hot spring. I’ve traveled - through the vacuum of space to the moon! Have you ever been to - the moon?”

    -

    “Why don’t you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like - it so much!”

    -

    “You’re just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure - you’re not the Fish of the Sea?”

    -

    “Are you sure you’re not the Blob of the Sea, you too many - armed bowl of jelly?”

    -

    “Hey! Hey, you there!” The arguing quasi-bears have spotted - your slow descent. “Come, yes, float slowly this way! You must - settle an argument for us! Tell this slightly mammalian fish - that I am the true Bear of the Sea!”

    -

    “The Bear of the Sea must be at least ‘slightly mammalian’ - you egg-laying scientific curiosity! You, tell this cousin of - a barnacle that I—the mighty merbear—am the true Bear of the - Sea! Say this and I will guide and protect you on your - journey.”

    -

    “No! Would you like to visit the moon? Say that I, - tardigrade, am Bear of the Sea and I will introduce you to my - moon friends!”

    -

    “He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth - can stand him!”

    -

    “You’re just mean, you know that?”

    -

    You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is - no sight of the SS RSS.

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO:

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

    www

    + href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00018.html">www

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

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

    What were they doing?

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +
    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

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

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

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

    +

    www

    ]]>     @@ -362,105 +471,174 @@ - 24 + 28 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 24 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40 + 28 - Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 -0600 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40 -0600 + Sat, 29 Oct 2022 08:36:51 -0600 00024 +

    00028

    -

    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.

    +

    a new player enters the chat

    +

    Gabs had a good life. Her little devil children were all + grown adults now, and she no longer wanted to toil away + running a business. When she initially shuttered her little + tavern, she thought she might just retire. She made it two + whole years of working in a garden, occasionally seeing + grandkids, and reading romance novels. She eventually decided + she needed a vacation from her retirement and traveled to a + nearby port town. She was sure to find something fun to do + there.

    +

    Gabs eventually sees Inquire Within, and the smell of + debauchery wafting from within made her miss her days + gossiping at her tavern. She enters and orders a terrible + drink and listens and watches.

    +

    Hearing the tales being spun by Mister Three-Fingered, she + decides, “I’ve never been on a ship, that’s something that + sounds exciting!”

    +

    Half-drunk and eager for something exciting, she will join + on the journey!

    +

    Gabs is a lanky older half-devil lady who is here to + schmooze and have fun!

    -

    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.

    +

    Meta: a warm welcome to the latest member of our tea party! + This is a short post to help smooth the temporal jumps between + the recent narratives so far. As Inky reaches the deck, they + see Gabs approaching from the other side of the ship as well, + and flashes them a grin in greeting. After listening to the + captain petering on about the glorious days of the now sunken + ship below, while tinkering with the bell’s tentacles — being + rewarded with a mild zap and marginally better fit for the + effort — Inky turns to the party. “When you’re ready.”

    - -

    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.

    +

    You reach into the tank and discover that grabbing a + breathing bell takes some finesse. They are very slippery! But + you get the hang of it and make a ladle out of your hands and + scoop one up.

    +

    “Okay now!” laughs Three-Fingered Gerald. He gives you a + wink, but it’s easy to miss because of the eyepatch. “Don’t + put it on until right before you jump. It won’t be able to + breathe for you until you’re in the water. And this!” he + continues, fitting a heavy, padded vest around your shoulders, + “will carry you down.” It is a vest of many pockets, each one + holding a small dense sandbag the size of your hand. “When + you’re ready to come back up, just start dropping ballast, + right?”

    +

    You hop up on the ship railing and pull the breathing bell + on over your head. It immediately contracts and squeezes and + hugs your head like a second skin, and its stubby little + tentacles grab hold around your jawline, and it feels like you + have a wet plastic bag clinging to your face, and you think + you might have made a grave mistake. Resisting the urge to + panic, you push off the railing and jump overboard. You are + briefly air born and then profoundly waterbound, crashing + through the surface of the sea into the briny soup below.

    +

    The oxygen starts to flow as the breathing bell begins to + do its job. As you sink, you feel as though you are floating + through space, entering another world.

    +

    After a while you start to hear voices arguing in the + distance. As you get closer, two large shapes start to come + into focus. The first is a hulking, hairless merbear. Top half + (hairless) bear, bottom half fish. The second figure is a + tardigrade the size of a large merbear. It has eight jointless + legs, each tipped with four sharp claws. It wriggles and + wobbles like jelly as it gesticulates.

    +

    “No, I am the true Bear of the Sea! I am called a Water + Bear, after all!”

    +

    “Hornswoggle and poppycock! It is I who am the Bear of the + Sea! I am half bear after all! You’re just some kind of + segmented nematode or something.”

    +

    The tardigrade quivers with indignation. “I’ll have you + know I’m a panarthropod, thank you very much. And this is the + ideal physical body! You may not like it, but this is what + peak performance looks like. I’ve lived under the polar ice + cap, and in a sulfurous mountaintop hot spring. I’ve traveled + through the vacuum of space to the moon! Have you ever been to + the moon?”

    +

    “Why don’t you go be the Bear of the Moon then if you like + it so much!”

    +

    “You’re just as much fish as you are bear, are you sure + you’re not the Fish of the Sea?”

    +

    “Are you sure you’re not the Blob of the Sea, you too many + armed bowl of jelly?”

    +

    “Hey! Hey, you there!” The arguing quasi-bears have spotted + your slow descent. “Come, yes, float slowly this way! You must + settle an argument for us! Tell this slightly mammalian fish + that I am the true Bear of the Sea!”

    +

    “The Bear of the Sea must be at least ‘slightly mammalian’ + you egg-laying scientific curiosity! You, tell this cousin of + a barnacle that I—the mighty merbear—am the true Bear of the + Sea! Say this and I will guide and protect you on your + journey.”

    +

    “No! Would you like to visit the moon? Say that I, + tardigrade, am Bear of the Sea and I will introduce you to my + moon friends!”

    +

    “He had to make friends on the moon because nobody on Urth + can stand him!”

    +

    “You’re just mean, you know that?”

    +

    You are still quite some way from the sea bed, and there is + no sight of the SS RSS.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    + href="https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-10/msg00023.html">www

    + ]]> +     +     + + 31 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 31 - Mon, 07 Nov 2022 08:16:11 +-0700 + Mon, 07 Nov 2022 08:16:14 -0700 + + 00031 +
    +

    Inky follows behind the merbear at a healthy 2 meters’ + distance away in the bubblebee, the headlights illuminating a + moderate distance ahead of the distraught bear as it darts + after its brother.

    +

    As the merbear homes in on the tardigrade near the ship + deck, Inky keeps a lookout for any signs of movement or + tentacles from behind or below the shipwreck. The bubblebee’s + headlights cast an eerie shadow from the ship’s double masts + even as it partly lights up the rim of a gaping hole in the + hull.

    +
    +

    The tardigrade, still tucked into a ball, lands on the ship + deck with a gentle thud. It rolls a couple of times and + finally comes to rest against the rigging. The merbear reaches + it a moment later and cradles its jelly-like body gently in + its bear arms. “My brother!” it cries. “My dear bear + brother!”

    +

    The tardigrade slowly uncurls and stretches out and looks + around, disoriented and bleary-eyed. It waggles its eight arms + around experimentally, closes and opens its claws as though + kneading the water. “Brother?” says the merbear in + astonishment.

    +

    “I am okay brother!” says the tardigrade. “We water bears + are very hardy and resilient! It will take more than a mere + other worldly tentacle attack and an arcane electric blast to + do me in!”

    +

    While the bears are having their teary-eyed reunion, you + sense movement in the shadows deep in the ocean trench, over + which protrude the ship’s masts. Your lights don’t penetrate + the darkness enough to see what it was. But it was large. The + very stuff that thalassophobia is made of.

    +

    You also think you see a flash of gold as the light of the + bubblebee reflects off of something inside the ship through + the hole in the hull. Could it be the second Ginnarak + Crystal?

    +

    The breach in the hull is easily large enough to admit a + medium sized creature such as an inkling in a bubblebee + apparatus. Or a sysorcer or a lanky old half-devil tavern + owner.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    www

    ]]>     @@ -615,446 +793,6 @@ ]]> - - 26 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 26 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 --0600 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:27:22 -0600 - - 00026 -
    -

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

    -

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

    -

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

    -

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

    -
    -

    ~

    -
    -

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

    -

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

    -

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

    -

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

    -

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

    -

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

    -
    -

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

    -

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

    -

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

    -

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

    -

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

    -

    WHAT DO YOU DO:

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

    www

    - ]]> -     -     - - 30 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 30 - Sat, 05 Nov 2022 12:51:43 --0600 - Sat, 05 Nov 2022 12:51:49 -0600 - - 00030 -
    -

    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

    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     - - 25 - dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 25 - Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16 --0600 - Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16 -0600 - - 00025 -
    -

    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

    -

    www

    - ]]> -     -     22 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) @@ -1389,142 +1127,459 @@ scp sysorceor.guild:/home/corraidhin/chest milkbase.alpha:/home/corraidhin/chest - 27 + 24 dozens@tilde.team (dozens) - 27 - Tue, 25 Oct 2022 14:14:31 + 24 - Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40 -0600 - Fri, 28 Oct 2022 10:36:42 -0600 + Sat, 22 Oct 2022 13:43:40 -0600 00027 +

    00024

    -

    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.

    +

    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.

    -

    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!”

    +

    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

    -

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

    www

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

    + ]]> +     +     + + 25 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 25 - Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16 +-0600 + Sun, 23 Oct 2022 09:41:16 -0600 + + 00025 +
    +

    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

    +

    www

    + ]]> +     +     + + 30 + dozens@tilde.team (dozens) + 30 - Sat, 05 Nov 2022 12:51:43 +-0600 + Sat, 05 Nov 2022 12:51:49 -0600 + + 00030 +
    +

    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

    +

    www

    ]]>     diff --git a/www/spoilers.html b/www/spoilers.html index 357ecc1..1d6ed32 100644 --- a/www/spoilers.html +++ b/www/spoilers.html @@ -250,6 +250,7 @@ of the Were-Hare
  • 00028
  • 00029
  • 00030
    • +
  • 00031
  • Bestiary
  • Geography
    • @@ -262,8 +263,8 @@ id="toc-acknowledgements">Acknowledgements

    Stats

    -

    Total length: 26483 words / 113 minute read.

    -

    There have been 107 messages posted over 116 days since the first +

    Total length: 26822 words / 114 minute read.

    +

    There have been 108 messages posted over 117 days since the first post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of .92.

    About

    This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over @@ -3158,6 +3159,43 @@ merbear is swimming blindly after it.

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    www

    +

    00031

    +
    +

    Inky follows behind the merbear at a healthy 2 meters’ distance away +in the bubblebee, the headlights illuminating a moderate distance ahead +of the distraught bear as it darts after its brother.

    +

    As the merbear homes in on the tardigrade near the ship deck, Inky +keeps a lookout for any signs of movement or tentacles from behind or +below the shipwreck. The bubblebee’s headlights cast an eerie shadow +from the ship’s double masts even as it partly lights up the rim of a +gaping hole in the hull.

    +
    +

    The tardigrade, still tucked into a ball, lands on the ship deck with +a gentle thud. It rolls a couple of times and finally comes to rest +against the rigging. The merbear reaches it a moment later and cradles +its jelly-like body gently in its bear arms. “My brother!” it cries. “My +dear bear brother!”

    +

    The tardigrade slowly uncurls and stretches out and looks around, +disoriented and bleary-eyed. It waggles its eight arms around +experimentally, closes and opens its claws as though kneading the water. +“Brother?” says the merbear in astonishment.

    +

    “I am okay brother!” says the tardigrade. “We water bears are very +hardy and resilient! It will take more than a mere other worldly +tentacle attack and an arcane electric blast to do me in!”

    +

    While the bears are having their teary-eyed reunion, you sense +movement in the shadows deep in the ocean trench, over which protrude +the ship’s masts. Your lights don’t penetrate the darkness enough to see +what it was. But it was large. The very stuff that thalassophobia is +made of.

    +

    You also think you see a flash of gold as the light of the bubblebee +reflects off of something inside the ship through the hole in the hull. +Could it be the second Ginnarak Crystal?

    +

    The breach in the hull is easily large enough to admit a medium sized +creature such as an inkling in a bubblebee apparatus. Or a sysorcer or a +lanky old half-devil tavern owner.

    +

    WHAT DO YOU DO

    +

    www

    Bestiary

    Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria

    @@ -3490,6 +3528,7 @@ class="uri">https://lambdacreate.com/paste/midjourney.png
  • corn smut? - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corn_smut
    • +
  • harrowkrake
  • gnu zealots
  • three fingered gerald