75, 76, 77

basement.order

@@ -1,4 +1,15 @@
 src/about.md
+src/chapter1.md
+src/chapter2.md
+src/chapter3.md
+src/chapter4.md
+src/epistolary/index.md
+src/epistolary/00074.md
+src/epistolary/00075.md
+src/epistolary/00076.md
+src/epistolary/00077.md
+src/notes.md
+src/acknowledgements.md
 src/characters/index.md
 src/characters/alex.md
 src/characters/corraidhin.md
@@ -10,33 +21,20 @@ src/characters/sneaky.md
 src/characters/tea.md
 src/meta.md
 src/paths/paths.md
-src/paths/duckterror.md
-src/paths/murderhobo.md
 src/paths/retriever.md
-src/paths/soulsword.md
 src/paths/tasseomancer.md
 src/paths/werehare.md
-src/chapter1.md
-src/chapter2.md
-src/epistolary/index.md
-src/epistolary/00038.md
-src/epistolary/00039.md
-src/epistolary/00040.md
-src/epistolary/00041.md
-src/epistolary/00042.md
-src/epistolary/00043.md
-src/epistolary/00044.md
-src/epistolary/00045.md
-src/epistolary/00046.md
-src/epistolary/00047.md
-src/epistolary/00048.md
-src/epistolary/00049.md
-src/epistolary/00050.md
+src/paths/soulsword.md
+src/paths/duckterror.md
+src/paths/murderhobo.md
+src/paths/sarongfu.md
 src/bestiary/index.md
+src/bestiary/aetherwael.md
 src/bestiary/aur.md
 src/bestiary/blahoblin.md
 src/bestiary/centaur.md
 src/bestiary/cobit.md
+src/bestiary/dwrlugh.md
 src/bestiary/egre.md
 src/bestiary/gnome.md
 src/bestiary/gnu.md
@@ -46,14 +44,15 @@ src/bestiary/hemogoblin.md
 src/bestiary/horkosgrampus.md
 src/bestiary/kobit.md
 src/bestiary/merbear.md
+src/bestiary/noogle.md
 src/bestiary/tardigrade.md
 src/bestiary/toque.md
 src/bestiary/torque.md
 src/bestiary/zephynos.md
-src/geography.md
-src/cosmology.md
-src/history.md
-src/notes.md
-src/acknowledgements.md
-src/afterword.md
+src/setting/index.md
+src/setting/geography.md
+src/setting/cosmology.md
+src/setting/history.md
 src/appendix/a/index.md
+src/appendix/b/bean.md
+src/appendix/c/teale.md

doc/fronts/README.md

@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+# FRONTS
+
+Fronts from Basement Quest.
+
+Use them to run your own game of BQ
+or to use in some other game
+whatever you want to do man
+
+## Resources
+
+- <https://acodispo.github.io/Dungeon-World-HTML-SRD/gm/fronts/>

doc/fronts/bq.7

@@ -0,0 +1,100 @@
+.Dd $Mdocdate$
+.Dt BASEMENT-QUEST 7
+.Os Basmentaria
+.
+.Sh NAME
+.Nm Basement Quest
+.Nd The Search for the Ginnarak Crystals
+.
+.Sh DESCRIPTION
+In the aftermath of the Artifice Wars,
+the three gods known as the Trine have gone missing.
+Now competing forces search for five ancient artifacts
+rumored to be powerful enough to kill a god.
+.
+.Sh DANGER: THE BENEFACTOR / NULLAR (PLANAR FORCE / GOD)
+.
+.Ss Impulse
+"To kill a god",
+to destroy itself,
+get rid of its worshippers
+.
+.Ss Lieutenant 
+Blavin Blandfoot, drunk hobbit and double agent.
+See:
+.Sx DANGER: GOLDEN IRIS (CABAL)
+.
+.Ss Goons
+.Bl -bullet
+.It
+BATT (Birds Are Time Travelers)
+.
+.Ss Grim Portents
+.Bl -bullet
+.It
+The Benefactor hires retrieval teams to find the crystals
+.It
+The Crystals are gathered
+.It
+The GODKILLER is completed
+.It
+Nullar is destroyed
+.
+.Ss Impending Doom
+Rampant Chaos / Destruction:
+Destruction of The Trine,
+imbalance in the heavens,
+apocalypse
+.
+.Sh DANGER: GOLDEN IRIS (CABAL)
+.Ss Impulse
+To grow,
+to absorb those in power,
+to create a new god
+.
+.Ss Figurehead
+Sitopotnia the Corn Mother
+.
+.Ss Lieutenant
+Blavin Blandfoot
+.
+.Ss Goons
+.Bl -bullet
+.It
+Cyberplasms
+.It
+Gnu Zealots
+.
+.Ss Grim Portents
+.Bl -bullet
+.It
+The Cyberplasms and Gnu Zealots gather the Crystals
+.It
+The Genesis Machine is constructed
+.It
+Sitopotnia ascends to Godhood
+.
+.Ss Impending Doom
+Usurpation: the rightful gods are displaced
+.
+.Sh STAKES
+.Bl -bullet
+.It
+Will the Benefactor reveal himself?
+.It
+Into whose hands will the Crystals fall?
+.
+.Sh SEE ALSO
+.Lk https://mandoc.bsd.lv/man/mdoc.7.html
+.Pp
+.Lk https://acodispo.github.io/Dungeon-World-HTML-SRD/gm/fronts/
+.
+.Sh AUTHOR
+.An dozens Aq Mt dozens@tilde.team
+.Pp
+.Lk https://dozensanddragons.neocities.org
+.Pp
+.Lk https://dozens.itch.io
+.Pp
+.Lk http://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/
+

doc/fronts/bq.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,80 @@
+BASEMENT-QUEST(7)      Miscellaneous Information Manual      BASEMENT-QUEST(7)
+
+NNAAMMEE
+     BBaasseemmeenntt QQuueesstt – The Search for the Ginnarak Crystals
+
+DDEESSCCRRIIPPTTIIOONN
+     In the aftermath of the Artifice Wars, the three gods known as the Trine
+     have gone missing.  Now competing forces search for five ancient
+     artifacts rumored to be powerful enough to kill a god.
+
+DDAANNGGEERR:: TTHHEE BBEENNEEFFAACCTTOORR // NNUULLLLAARR ((PPLLAANNAARR FFOORRCCEE // GGOODD))
+   IImmppuullssee
+     "To kill a god", to destroy itself, get rid of its worshippers
+
+   LLiieeuutteennaanntt
+     Blavin Blandfoot, drunk hobbit and double agent.  See: _D_A_N_G_E_R_: _G_O_L_D_E_N
+     _I_R_I_S _(_C_A_B_A_L_)
+
+   GGoooonnss
+     ••   BATT (Birds Are Time Travelers)
+
+   GGrriimm PPoorrtteennttss
+     ••   The Benefactor hires retrieval teams to find the crystals
+
+     ••   The Crystals are gathered
+
+     ••   The GODKILLER is completed
+
+     ••   Nullar is destroyed
+
+   IImmppeennddiinngg DDoooomm
+     Rampant Chaos / Destruction: Destruction of The Trine, imbalance in the
+     heavens, apocalypse
+
+DDAANNGGEERR:: GGOOLLDDEENN IIRRIISS ((CCAABBAALL))
+   IImmppuullssee
+     To grow, to absorb those in power, to create a new god
+
+   FFiigguurreehheeaadd
+     Sitopotnia the Corn Mother
+
+   LLiieeuutteennaanntt
+     Blavin Blandfoot
+
+   GGoooonnss
+     ••   Cyberplasms
+
+     ••   Gnu Zealots
+
+   GGrriimm PPoorrtteennttss
+     ••   The Cyberplasms and Gnu Zealots gather the Crystals
+
+     ••   The Genesis Machine is constructed
+
+     ••   Sitopotnia ascends to Godhood
+
+   IImmppeennddiinngg DDoooomm
+     Usurpation: the rightful gods are displaced
+
+SSTTAAKKEESS
+     ••   Will the Benefactor reveal himself?
+
+     ••   Into whose hands will the Crystals fall?
+
+SSEEEE AALLSSOO
+     hhttttppss::////mmaannddoocc..bbssdd..llvv//mmaann//mmddoocc..77..hhttmmll
+
+     hhttttppss::////aaccooddiissppoo..ggiitthhuubb..iioo//DDuunnggeeoonn--WWoorrlldd--HHTTMMLL--SSRRDD//ggmm//ffrroonnttss//
+
+AAUUTTHHOORR
+     dozens <_d_o_z_e_n_s_@_t_i_l_d_e_._t_e_a_m>
+
+     hhttttppss::////ddoozzeennssaannddddrraaggoonnss..nneeoocciittiieess..oorrgg
+
+     hhttttppss::////ddoozzeennss..iittcchh..iioo
+
+     hhttttpp::////ttiillddee..ttoowwnn//~~ddoozzeennss//qquueesstt//
+
+
+Basmentaria                    February 7, 2023                    Basmentaria

doc/fronts/example.7

@@ -0,0 +1,100 @@
+.Dd $Mdocdate$
+.Dt WHITE-GATE 7
+.Os Basmentaria
+.
+.Sh NAME
+.Nm The Opening of the White Gate
+.Nd An Example Front
+.
+.Sh DESCRIPTION AND CAST
+An ancient gate, buried for aeons in the icy north.
+It opens into a realm of pure light, guarded by the Argent Seraphim.
+It was crafted only to be opened at Judgement Day,
+so that the Seraphim could come forth and purge the realm of men.
+It was recently uncovered by the College of Arcanists,
+who do not yet understand its terrible power.
+.
+.Bl -bullet
+.It
+Oren Balserus, Arcanist Supreme
+.
+.It
+Hali’el, voice of the Seraphim
+.
+.It
+Drudge, a manservant
+.
+.Sh DANGER: THE COLLEGE OF ARCANISTS (CABAL)
+.
+.Ss Impulse
+To absorb those in power, to grow
+.
+.Ss Grim Portents
+.Bl -bullet
+.It
+The College sends an expedition to the Gate
+.It
+The Key is discovered
+.It
+The Gate's Power is harnessed
+.It
+The College seizes control
+.
+.Ss Impending Doom
+Usurpation
+.
+.Sh DANGER: THE WHITE GATE (DARK PORTAL)
+.Ss Impulse
+to disgorge demons
+.
+.Ss Grim Portents
+.Bl
+.It
+The First Trumpet sounds
+.It
+The Second Trumpet sounds
+.It
+The Gate is opened
+.
+.Ss Impending Doom
+Destruction
+.
+.Sh DANGER: THE ARGENT SERAPHIM (CHOIR OF ANGELS)
+.Ss Impulse
+to pass judgement
+.
+.Ss Grim Portents
+.Bl -bullet
+.It
+A Champion is chosen
+.It
+An organization of power is formed or co-opted
+.It
+The Herald appears
+.It
+Judgement is passed
+.
+.Ss Impending Doom
+Tyranny
+.
+.Sh CUSTOM MOVES
+When you stand in the presence of the Light From Beyond, roll+WIS. ✴On a 10+ you are judged worthy, the Argent Seraphim will grant you a vision or boon. ✴On a 7-9 you are under suspicion and see a vision of what dark fate might befall you if you do not correct your ways. ✴On a miss, thou art weighed in the balance and art found wanting.
+.
+.Sh STAKES
+.Bl -bullet
+.It
+Who will be the Champion?
+.It
+How will Lux respond to the holy light?
+.It
+Will the College be able to recruit Avon?
+.
+.Sh SEE ALSO
+.Lk https://mandoc.bsd.lv/man/mdoc.7.html
+.Pp
+.Lk https://acodispo.github.io/Dungeon-World-HTML-SRD/gm/fronts/
+.
+.Sh AUTHORS
+.An Andrew Codispoti 
+.Lk https://github.com/acodispo
+.An Sage Kobold Productions Aq Mt sage@example.com

doc/man/Makefile

@@ -0,0 +1,15 @@
+DOCS=$(shell find *.7)
+TARGETS=$(patsubst %.7,%.txt,$(DOCS))
+
+.SUFFIXES: .7 .txt
+
+# From .7 to .txt
+.7.txt:
+	mandoc -T ascii $< > $@
+
+.PHONY: all
+all: $(TARGETS)
+
+.PHONY: clean
+clean:
+	rm *.txt

doc/man/README

@@ -0,0 +1,8 @@
+supplemental material
+probably fit for barefoot quackery
+
+written in mdoc
+and exported as plain text man pages
+because why not
+
+use the makefile

doc/man/ellis.7

@@ -0,0 +1,37 @@
+.Dd Unare 12, 2023
+.Dt LINKING-SIGIL 7
+.Os Basmentaria
+.
+.Sh NAME
+.Nm Linking Sigil
+.Nd Link two places or concepts together
+.
+.Sh DESCRIPTION
+The Linking Sigil was invented
+by the Domo Khaos Maurauder Underground hypercollective
+and is used to link two
+places or concepts together energetically 
+by connecting them to the
+.Xr "156 current" 7 .
+.
+.Pp
+When the network reached a certain bandwidth
+the Linking Sigil produced a godform
+known as Ellis.
+She is described as a woman in a red cloak and hood,
+or sometimes as a red spider.
+.
+.Sh OTHER NAMES
+.Nm LS ,
+.Nm Ellis ,
+.Nm The White Rabbit ,
+.Nm The Red Queen ,
+.Nm The Red Spider ,
+.Nm Eris
+.
+.Sh SEE ALSO
+.Xr "156 Current" 7 ,
+.Xr "Dream Sigil" 7
+.
+.Sh AUTHORS
+.An Mt archive@runesocesius

doc/man/konsu.7

@@ -0,0 +1,44 @@
+.Dd Setoren 24, 1224
+.Dt DREAM-SIGIL 7
+.Os Basmentaria
+.
+.Sh NAME
+.Nm Dream Sigil
+.Nd Access the dream realm
+.
+.Sh DESCRIPTION
+The Dream Sigil was originally invented to facilitate lucid dreaming.
+It ascended into a godform named Konsu,
+who is the ruler of the Realm of Dreams.
+.Pp
+The sigil can still be used for its intended purpose.
+But care must be taken to not accidentally summon the Lord of Dreams,
+for he does not tolerate frivolity.
+.Pp
+Ravens are Konsu's chosen familiars.
+And he himself will often appear as one in both the dreaming and the waking world.
+.Pp
+Konsu is believed to have been the first traveler from the Cosm
+(aka the known world, or the waking world)
+to Ousia, the sea of dreams.
+After a lifetime of drifting in its waters,
+the sea closed over him and eons later,
+like an oyster protecting itself from an irritant,
+it had formed the island of Ephemeris from his body.
+.Pp
+Konsu reigns from Ephemeris,
+appearing in the waking and the dream world as one of his various avatars.
+.
+.Sh OTHER NAMES
+.Nm Konsu ,
+.Nm Morphius ,
+.Nm Traveler ,
+.Nm Dude 215R ,
+.Nm Kilroy ,
+.Nm Ephemeris
+.
+.Sh SEE ALSO
+.Xr "Linking Sigil" 7
+.
+.Sh AUTHORS
+.An Mt archive@runesocesius

includes/styles.html

@@ -6,6 +6,13 @@
     left: 2rem;
   }
 }
+html {
+  line-height: 1.5;
+  font-family: Georgia, serif;
+  font-size: 20px;
+  color: #1a1a1a;
+  background-color: #fdfdfd;
+}
 body {
   padding-top: 0;
 }
@@ -35,4 +42,8 @@ h3 {
 summary p {
   display: inline;
 }
+li:has(> input[checked]) {
+  text-decoration: line-through;
+  color: lightgray;
+}
 </style>

src/about.md

@@ -4,12 +4,6 @@ created: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 updated: Mon, 14 Nov 2022 18:16:30 -0700
 public: yes
 ---
-## Stats
-
-Total length: zxWORDS words / zxMINUTES minute read. (Mind you, that's the length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not just the story.)
-
-There have been zxNOMESSAGES messages posted over zxDAYS days since the first post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of zxPOSTRATE.
-
 ## About
 
 This is a game that me and the kids in the basement are playing over email.
@@ -20,3 +14,9 @@ You can [read from the beginning](#chapter-1), or jump into the [current story a
 
 If you're not on the mailing list and want to keep up with the story, you can [subscribe to the rss feed](https://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/rss.xml).
 
+## Stats
+
+Total length: zxWORDS words / zxMINUTES minute read. (Mind you, that's the length of this entire page, including all the extra bits and bobs. Not just the story.)
+
+There have been zxNOMESSAGES messages posted over zxDAYS days since the first post on July 13, 2022 for a daily post rate of zxPOSTRATE.
+

src/afterword.md

@@ -1,14 +0,0 @@
----
-title: afterword
-created: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 13:51:03 -0600
-updated: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 13:51:03 -0600
-public: yes
----
-## Afterword
-
-I don't know what I'm going to put here, but I didn't want this document to just abruptly end. So here you go: a kind farewell and a more gentle conclusion.
-
-Thanks for reading.
-
-dozens@tilde.team
-

src/appendix/a/index.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ created: Thu, 29 Dec 2022 15:46:36 -0700
 updated: Thu, 29 Dec 2022 15:46:37 -0700
 public: yes
 ---
-## Appendix A: Barefoot Quackery
+## Appendix E: Barefoot Quackery
 
 Being apocryphal and supplemental material posted to the *Barefoot Quackery*
 thread on tildepals, including depictions of loose pages torn from books of the

src/appendix/b/bean.md

@@ -0,0 +1,254 @@
+---
+title: Appendix F
+created: Tue, 17 Jan 2023 08:09:58 -0700
+updated: Tue, 17 Jan 2023 08:09:58 -0700
+public: yes
+---
+## Appendix F: Bean
+
+**Note**: This story by mio was originally published in issue 6 of the
+tilde.town zine, and is included here with the author's permission.
+
+<https://tilde.town/~zine/issues/6/html/mio/bean/>
+
+~
+
+> This short story is dedicated to \~dozens.
+> 
+> Several months ago he spoke of a [tabletop
+> game](https://dozensanddragons.neocities.org/30.html) that involved
+> growing cats from beans, inviting others to try it and share their
+> actual plays. As it happened, someone read the message and played the
+> game, but the narrative that was supposed to accompany the results never
+> materialised, having fizzled out in a desolate post-apocalyptic
+> landscape before it had barely started.
+> 
+> Here instead is a story about growing, cats and beans, not necessarily
+> in that order. Discerning readers will observe its setting is loosely
+> based in a different game, the wonderful [Basement
+> Quest](http://tilde.town/~dozens/quest/) of which \~dozens is the
+> amazing author and thoroughly adept game host. He has also kindly given
+> permission to reproduce my tiny tale of tomfoolery under the [CC-BY-SA
+> license](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/). The story
+> would not have existed without his support and the patience of fellow
+> players, though any lapses in judgement for churning out complete drivel
+> are mine alone. *Gratias maximas.*
+> 
+> mio
+
+Deep within the bowels of the bustling city of Vay'Nullar was a building
+like every other and none other. The unassuming brick structure stood to
+one side of Cofe Street, so named after a giant automaton that had once
+occupied an empty plot of land for the sole purpose of selling coffee
+and the wonders of mechanical ingenuity before it broke down one day and
+the lot, overrun by weeds, was turned into an apothecary. There was no
+sign above the entrance to announce itself to the world, the windows
+shuttered and the wooden door bolted from within. It could be said that
+there was nothing remarkable about the building except for a colourful
+row of marching kidney-shaped beans painted in bas-relief than ran along
+the base of the tiled roof. The beans' faces were contorted in various
+expressions of merriment, from hopping up and down with silly grins to
+flipping on their backs, eyes screwed tight and mouths wide open in
+laughter.
+
+No one actually knew for sure if it was a shop, or what it sold, because
+the doors had never opened for business. Passers-by can be forgiven for
+thinking it was probably an ill-fated foray into fame and fortune by
+some enterprising young upstart that had floundered at the last moment,
+and the place had long since been abandoned to the cobwebs of aurs and
+dust bunnies. However, the neighbourhood's residents knew differently.
+If anyone had cared to ask, they would have recounted in tense, hushed
+voices of eerie sounds emanating from the building at night. Some said
+they heard loud whooshing noises; others swore someone or something was
+lighting crackling bonfires inside, though they had neither seen light
+nor smoke from a fire. Still more spoke of a sound --- the more
+musically-inclined might liken it to a note blown from a long horn,
+lowered then abruptly dampened. The children --- the ones who were old
+enough or secretly sneaked out past their bedtime --- would have simply
+described it as if a crowd had gotten together in a room and farted at
+the same time.
+
+None of the residents had ever heard nor seen the landlord; as far as
+the eldest grannies could remember, the building had always appeared the
+way it did. When the city finally sent an inspector to assess the
+property after multiple complaints from the most vocal residents, the
+man had returned so shocked by whatever he had seen that to this day he
+could not utter a syllable, his entire body frozen in fear whenever the
+subject of the bean building was brought up. Cursed, was the conclusion
+of a guild of wizards three districts over, though one that seemed to
+evade their scanners. A few of the bravest and more curious among their
+ranks offered to investigate, but never returned with their findings.
+Children were sternly warned by their parents to stay away and behave,
+or they would be snatched up and eaten by the monster that lived within
+its walls.
+
+One afternoon, a young girl who was studying the painted relief along
+one side of the building heard scratching, mewls, then a whimper coming
+from somewhere nearby. Following the sounds, she rounded the back of the
+building and spotted a grey kitten with light charcoal stripes slumped
+against the wall, paws on their furry tummy, with a pinched expression
+on their face. As she came closer, she could hear a low gurgling sound
+coming from somewhere near its tummy. "Oh!" She exclaimed, her face lit
+up in understanding. "Stay here, kitty." she told the kitten.
+
+She returned from a nearby shop with a glass bottle of oat milk, two
+small dishes and three skewers of tofuna balls. She set the items in
+front of the kitten, removed the skewers from the first dish and filled
+the other with milk. "Go on, it's for you." The girl smiled
+encouragingly at the kitten, who stared at her with wide eyes before
+pouncing on the tofuna balls. When the kitten had emptied the plates,
+they licked their face and paws, then looked up at the girl and mewed
+once before disappearing into a small hole in the wall of the building
+partially covered by a loose board. The girl tried to peer into the hole
+but it was too dark within to see anything.
+
+The next day and the day after, the girl returned to the same spot with
+food for the kitten, who seemed to be expecting her, mewing once again
+before retreating back inside the hole in the wall after the meal. On
+the fourth day, the kitten was nowhere to be seen when the young girl
+arrived. She bent down to fill a saucer with more milk, and found a
+single brown bean in it slightly smaller than a cherry potato. She
+waited but there was no sign of the kitten. Eventually she left the
+offering of food near the hole and went home.
+
+As the girl lay in bed that night, she examined the bean by the light of
+her bedside lamp. She held it up between her thumb and forefinger,
+rubbed a thumb against its smooth contours, then clasped it gently
+between her palms, gradually warming it as she peeked at it from between
+her fingers. After whispering to the bean for some time, she carefully
+tucked it under one end of her pillow, and yawning, turned down the lamp
+and went to sleep.
+
+When she next opened her eyes, it was to find herself inside a gigantic
+storehouse with a high ceiling that seemed to stretch on and on into the
+horizon. One side was lined with glass partitions, some of which were
+obscured with thick curtains, while others had curtains parted aside to
+reveal the activities of the occupants within. On another side,
+separated by a path the width of two streets, was an open grassy area
+dotted with large translucent domes, like hazy soap bubbles on a summer
+day. The entire area was bright and well-lit even though she couldn't
+make out any significant source of light aside from the little caddy
+lamps twinkling from the desks inside the partitions, or the campers'
+lamps inside and around the domed tents.
+
+A cat wearing bright yellow boots, blue overalls and a construction hat
+was beckoning her over. She recognised them as the kitten she had met in
+the alley earlier, though now they appeared as tall as her. Just as she
+was about to call out and ask where they were, the cat suddenly appeared
+in front of her and said eagerly, "There you are! Come along now!"
+
+Everywhere she turned, there were now cats in all shapes, colours and
+sizes --- short, large, skinny, tiny, chubby, striped, spotted, black,
+calico, white, brown, grey, and so on. Many were patting rectangular
+panels with various tiny buttons on the desks. Some were on all fours or
+sitting in various positions in front of stools with small boxes that
+made whirring, clicking sounds. After each click, the cats would shift
+positions, as if striking poses for some invisible audience. One cat was
+mixing and matching several new outfits in light colours. Another was
+hugging stuffed toy chipmunk while sorting mushrooms at a picnic table.
+A few were holding a burger with an oversized cheese wedge between their
+paws.
+
+Some who were walking around the partitions were also holding mugs, the
+aroma of coffee wafting through the air as they passed --- except for
+one cat whose paws were wrapped around a glass of a clear brown drink
+topped with cherries. A cat sped by on a contraption with a handle and
+two thin wheels, which emitted tinkling sounds from a tiny, nondescript
+box attached to a basket in front of the contraption. They passed a
+group of six cats gesturing to a black board covered in numbers and
+symbols; one of them chanted something that confused the girl and pushed
+a button on one edge of the board, which sprayed water over the surface,
+erasing the chalk writing. After wiping the board dry, the cat began
+rapidly filling the board with more symbols. When the girl looked over
+her shoulder, the board had already washed out the writing, and another
+cat had taken up position in front of the board.
+
+Outside one domed tent, a metal arm was mixing a vat of pink and yellow
+cream while a cat sat beside it reading aloud from a scroll. At the next
+tent, two cats huddled over a thin, grey bulbous metal stump placed on a
+tiny wooden table. The cats seemed to be engaged in a serious
+conversation at first; then the girl blinked and they abruptly dissolved
+into laughs, thumping the table with a paw and barely grappling onto the
+table edge with the other to keep themselves from tumbling and knocking
+over the metal rod. A cat reclined against the frame of a bubble opening
+and seemed to be intently listening to something, while a stockpot
+bubbled merrily on a stove and spewed out dumplings into a large crusty
+bread bowl behind them.
+
+A few steps from the path, a cat hung up pictures onto a pie-shaped box
+under the glow of a lamp affixed to their tent. The lamp slowly changed
+colours, each new colour followed by strings of words floating and
+fading in mid-air like intangible poetry. Behind them, half-hidden by
+big rows of vertical posts made of paper tubes, a cat perched atop a
+stack of ten thick black writing pads and was writing in a notebook at a
+furious pace, only occasionally stopping to bite into a slice of pie
+with a light yellow filling. A blue panel displaying several lines of
+indecipherable characters flickered occasionally from below. Remotely
+she could barely make out another cat stacking containers of different
+sizes neatly as they spoke to a sliding black case on a table covered in
+tools and fossils. Inside another tent, a cat was moving a small stack
+of old boxes with lights blinking blearily through the tent walls and
+shuffling them inside an animated green cabinet in the shape of a
+possum. As the girl stared, some of the cats grinned at her, and others
+waved.
+
+At random intervals, a group would gather around a large pipe made of
+dark grey metal at the base, which gave way to a translucent material at
+knee height, towering up before disappearing into an opening in the
+ceiling. Venturing closer, she realised the translucent pipe was
+actually made of many transparent small pipes with beads of light
+passing through them at impossibly fast speeds. As the lights spun
+faster, a low purr emanated from the pipe, which became louder and
+louder in a roaring crescendo as the group fixed their gazes upwards at
+a spot where pipe met ceiling, some clapping their paws to a soundless
+rhythm that was nonetheless familiar to them all, until the noise was
+abruptly cut off to barely a whine and a chuff once more. The crowd of
+cats dispersed as if nothing had happened.
+
+Further on, another group wielding oversized sporks was shovelling piles
+of pea-sized, dark brown beans at a glass pane the size of a large smoke
+screen, behind which an ornate fireplace was set over a well-used
+hearth. The beans seem to pass through the glass, to be devoured by the
+giant blaze that flared and snapped briefly each time it received more
+tinder. Some of the cats looked on with somber expressions, and the girl
+had the feeling that whatever the fire did was as important --- if not
+more so --- than the stream of lights in the pipes. As the flames
+gradually changed colour from blood orange to pale lavender, the group
+seemed to relax into relieved smiles and slowed their shovelling, only
+halting when the fire had turned a vibrant purple. Her guide gave the
+group a thumbs-up before ushering her along the path.
+
+When they had walked a few score feet onward, the young girl suddenly
+noticed almost all the cats in their immediate vicinity had a small
+rectangular apparatus on them --- whether held in their paws, hanging
+from a waist pouch, jutting out from a back pocket, strapped to their
+caps or arms, or placed within reach on a nearby desk or table. In that
+instant, a resounding chime like a bell rolled across the area where
+they were standing. The cats glanced down at their apparatus, which were
+lit in varying levels of brightness. Some of the cats looked up at one
+another and sported identical grins on their faces. Then, as though
+following an unannounced but practised cue, the cats applied light
+pressure on their apparatus. For a moment it was quiet, before the hall
+erupted into a very loud raspberry. It was as though a giant balloon had
+deflated over their heads and air was coming out of it in one big gush,
+only there was no strong burst of wind to blow them all off their feet.
+Distantly she heard the answering giggling of babies and children
+somewhere around her, though there were no infants or other children in
+sight. The cat with the yellow hat turned to her with a chuckle and
+said, "Snazzy, huh? Let's keep this a little secret between us, okay?"
+
+Before the girl could reply, she awoke with a start in her own room. It
+took a moment for her to ascertain where she was as her eyes focused on
+the shelf by the wall filled with toys and books, and the morning
+sunlight streaming in from the bedroom window. Recalling the cat in
+boots, she felt around her pillow for the bean, but her hand only met
+soft bedsheets. She shook out her pillow while pushing aside her
+blankets, checked the floor and peeked under the bed, but the bean had
+disappeared. As she looked around her room, she noticed the mug adorned
+with tiny butterflies that she used as a brush holder had been moved
+from its usual spot on her desk. She got out of bed and padded barefoot
+over to the desk. Instead of one baby potato-sized bean, the mug was
+filled with a number of small red beans. Shaking them out in handfuls at
+a time, she counted 43 in total.
+
+The girl smiled. When the time came, she and the beans will be ready.

src/appendix/c/teale.md

@@ -0,0 +1,879 @@
+---
+title: Appendix G
+created: Tue, 17 Jan 2023 08:09:58 -0700
+updated: Tue, 17 Jan 2023 08:09:58 -0700
+public: yes
+---
+## Appendix G: Teale
+
+This story by mio, while technically part of the *Barefoot Quackery*
+compendium, stands on its own enough to earn its own entry in the
+appendix. I hope you enjoy it as much as we did.
+
+~
+
+#### I.
+
+It had been an accident at first.
+
+Inky had just returned from the market with two bags of produce and was halfway
+up the back stairs when one of the radishes tumbled from its paper bag and
+rolled down the steps to land on the ground somewhere near a first-storey
+window below. Setting down the bags on the second floor, Inky went downstairs
+to retrieve the missing radish, which they found easily amid light from the
+open window and a brass lamp next to the back door several paces away. As they
+straightened from their crouch with the vegetable in hand, a movement from the
+window caught their attention.
+
+Illuminated by lamps hanging from the rafters, a large turtle was rolling on
+the floor of what appeared to be the restaurant's kitchens. As the imp watched,
+the turtle turned in multiple directions over and over, gradually stretching
+out the dough while moulding different textures onto the surface through the
+various glyphs and markings on his shell. Inky was intrigued — they had never
+seen empanadas prepared this way before. It reminded them distantly of a
+retired ceremonial bull fighter turned pub owner they had met who would
+sometimes form cornucopia rolls with his horns to impress the tourists, but
+still generally preferred to use his hands or a rolling pin to roll out dough
+for other breads. Over the next several days, Inky would pause briefly to look
+through the kitchen window before ascending the stairs. Eventually they were
+able to watch the empanada-making process from start to finish, and on some
+late evenings, observing the way the chef would frown at a small sample of
+partly-eaten pastry on a plate, followed by a sigh, as though dissatisfied with
+the contents.
+
+One night, Inky passed through the Milk Market at a later hour than previous
+days. The lamps had by then been extinguished, but someone had left a window
+open and when Inky glanced in, the kitchen had been cleaned, a thin sheen of
+water evaporating quickly on the floors from the warm air outside, and the wood
+counter tops shone where they were worn smooth in some spots. The surfaces
+which would by day be occupied by trays of pastries were bare. In that moment,
+an awful idea took hold in Inky's head. Clambering nimbly through the window,
+Inky entered the kitchen, carefully avoiding the area where the pastries were
+rolled out. They checked the racks of pans and utensils hanging below the
+cabinets, the ovens, the iceboxes, then inspected the pantry. After giving
+themselves an impromptu tour of the kitchens, including a peek into the brewing
+room and root cellar, Inky went out the way they came in what was to become the
+first of multiple unannounced visits. The following night, Inky returned with a
+small plate of tapas — just a slight twist on simple fare that could be paired
+with the ale being sold at the shop. The plate was left on a table to be later
+discovered when the chef came in early to begin preparations for the day.
+
+The flavours of the tapas gradually increased in complexity, though not
+straying too far from the earthy undertones of the shop's signature ale. Inky
+didn't know if Enrique would even like the little tapas, though they supposed
+they could find out one way or another. In a way it didn't really matter; the
+snacks would serve as inspirational aids for the chef to pick out flavours
+and combinations for his own pastries. At worst, if the tapas irritated him
+immensely, he would likely be too busy trying to catch the intruder red-handed
+to be sighing over his efforts. Inky decided the giant turtle looked better
+with his annoyance directed elsewhere. Either way, if the turtle truly wanted
+to be rid of the tapas, he was going to have to "up his game", as the dillball
+kids in the neighbourhood would say.
+
+~~
+
+A small turtle wearing overalls, a smock and rain boots is sitting on the grass
+next to a muddy puddle of water, forming a wet ball in his hands. Sunlight
+spills into the forest clearing, illuminating the turtle's smock and boots
+which are covered in dirt and mud. Inky walks over and sits across from the
+turtle.
+
+"Hi, I'm __ , what's your name?" Inky asks.
+
+"Enrique," replies the turtle.
+
+"That's a great name. Hi Henry!" Inky greets their new friend.
+
+The turtle frowns. "My name is Enrique, not Henry," he says.
+
+"It is now. Why are you making mud pies, Henry?" asks Inky, pointing to the
+slightly lumpy pies stacked neatly a short distance from the turtle.
+
+"They're cool, and it's Enrique," the turtle replies, a little defensively.
+
+"They are," Inky agrees, "What's in them?"
+
+The turtle gives Inky a funny look. "They're called mud pies. Of course there's
+mud inside."
+
+"That's not a pie! That's a crusty …" Here child-Inky struggles to find words,
+"crust," they finish weakly.
+
+Enrique looks at Inky, unimpressed. "What else would there be if not mud?"
+
+"Loads! Fruits, lots of berries, nuts, custards and jams," Inky exclaims,
+picturing the table spread for tea-time. After some thought, they add, "There's
+also mushroom pot, but I don't know where to get that yet."
+
+"Mushroom pot? There's no such thing," the turtle says, sceptical.
+
+"There is, I've tasted it," child-Inky insists. "Want to go find mushroom pot
+together? We'll get some blackberries, redcurrants and sunflower seeds for your
+pies too."
+
+"Fine," the turtle replies eventually, after thinking it over. "But you're
+wrong about the sunflower seeds. Nobody puts that in their pies."
+
+"Then you'll be the first to do it, Henry!" Inky laughs. "Race you to the
+giant oak with the big nose!" With that, they hurtle off through the trees.
+
+"It's Enrique!" the turtle huffs, but trots towards the direction of the oaks.
+
+
+#### II.
+
+"Why don't you ask him?"
+
+"Because it'll ruin the surprise! He'll know in a pinch something's fishy,"
+child-Inky wails a bit in desperation. Lowering their voice, they finished
+imploringly, "I got him a pair of mittens after he said he lost one last week,
+but I want to make him something he can eat too. Like food cooked on a real
+fire. Mud cookies really aren't very tasty." 
+
+The large matronly turtle chuckles, a deep, throaty sound. "No, I don't suppose
+they are," she concedes. Tapping a claw on her chin in thought, she blinks a
+few times then smiles. "But I know just the thing."
+
+~
+
+"Another five minutes should do it," Enrique's mother tells Inky.
+
+Inky peers into the cob oven at the tapas sitting on a wooden board with a long
+handle. "Thank you, Mrs. T." child-Inky says politely.
+
+Over the past few afternoons, Enrique's mother instructed child-Inky on making
+a basic bread tapa with three different topping combinations based on her son's
+favourite foods, while Enrique had gone with his father to visit one of the
+barley farms that supplied the brewery where Mr. T. was chief brewer. The
+results were now bubbling a little as the enticing smell of tostadas and pepper
+sauce slowly wafted out from the oven.
+
+The lady nods. "It'll be good for Enrique to have a friend over to celebrate.
+He takes after his father, being too serious for his young age. He's already
+learning beercraft from him when he ought to be outdoors playing with his
+fellow schoolmates."
+
+"Is there anything else I can help with?" Inky asks.
+
+"It's all right, dear, I'll manage. Why don't you wash up and wait in the
+parlour? Enrique and his father should be back from the brewery any moment
+now." She sounds put-upon at the last words.
+
+At Inky's curious look, Enrique's mother explains, "Our birthday boy wanted to
+try the ale." She sighs. "I'd put my foot down but he looked so disappointed
+when I objected. Well, I did make his father promise not to let him get too
+drunk. Besides," she adds with a wink, "We spent all this time baking him a
+cake and snacks, we can't have him falling asleep on us before he's had any of
+it, can we?"
+
+~~
+
+Inky was avoiding the kitchens downstairs.
+
+While it had been amusing at first, and Inky was fairly sure they wouldn't be
+caught (it helped that the chef's routine was awfully predictable and the staff
+were even worse, especially that surly hobgoblin who always sneaked off three
+hours early on Primedays), they didn't really want to end up in Enrique's bad
+books or banned from the shop if he found out. The blood pudding had been a
+sobering reminder of the consequences of meddling in other people's business.
+
+Still, they could not bring themselves to stay away from the shop entirely,
+just as they had been drawn to the weathered sign over the door and the aroma
+of bread fresh from the oven mixed with the malty undertones of robust ale
+within the first few days when Jarrod had invited other members of the party to
+his newly-acquired premises. There was something almost homely about it, which
+was strange since Inky rarely made empanadas (in the strictest sense of the
+word, though some breadpunks would argue anything edible with a filling counts)
+and did not particularly favour most alcoholic drinks (ink had a wider sensory
+range and none of the hangovers, in their opinion) and only imbibed when an
+occasion called for it. This feeling carried into the kitchens, with its wooden
+counter tops covered in scratches and stains, shelves stacked a little
+precariously with sauces and spice jars, and even the gaping maw of a big stone
+oven next to the more conventional mechanical oven. It had to be the most
+common sight of every bakery on the continent and yet, there hadn't been any
+place quite like it ever since Inky had left a small town for life in the city.
+
+So it was in the evenings when Enrique was most likely busy in the kitchens or
+in storeroom taking stock of supplies for the next day that Inky would visit in
+the guise of a tea seller, either to put in a larger order for whoever of their
+party was around upstairs or have supper in a shadowed corner of the
+restaurant. At the latter times, Inky would request different items from the
+previous day, partly to not draw attention from the kitchen, as well as to keep
+things more interesting for a little game they liked to play which involved
+coming up with various inks to complement the evening selection in the time it
+took to eat it. Sometimes, when mulling over new produce from the market, Inky
+would also try to rearrange the current dish in their head, replacing
+ingredients and preparations until it resembled nothing like the crispy
+delectables of the original. Inky wouldn't really do that to the empanadas with
+actual ingredients, but it was funny to picture the turtle's annoyed expression
+at the very thought anyway.
+
+When Inky was satisfied they had an answer for inks depending on the most
+recent harvest and season, they would sit for a while, back to the wall and
+glass of kale juice in hand to idly survey the room or half-listen to the
+breadpunk gang debate the merits of quick rise yeast over traditional starters.
+The staff (whose names and shifts Inky had long since obtained for security
+reasons and definitely not because they were a little obsessed) were probably
+used to customers of all sorts, including reticent ones, and mostly left Inky
+to their meal. Leaving a decent tip (and on one occasion, a tea-based poultice
+for a waitress who had been holding her left arm at an awkward angle the entire
+time, with pictorial instructions for its application sketched on a sheet of
+fine notepaper), Inky would depart with a small bag of treats for their
+marketing manager before the shop's proprietor emerged to check on the dining
+area and chat with his regular customers.
+
+Said marketing manager also became Inky's quality assurance tester, and was
+rewarded with an extra sample of each tapa recipe that met the duck's
+discerning taste. Only recipes that had the duck's stomp of approval were
+delivered by hare mail to the Emporium. It didn't see a need for the recipes to
+be put through the post — the shop was right below their feet! — but Inky had
+gone to the post office each time and even spoke in rabbiton to one of the
+delivery workers there.
+
+Gradually, however, the duck noticed something strange — the more Inky had
+dinner at the shop downstairs, the fewer and farther in between the recipes
+came, until they eventually stopped appearing altogether. Initially it had
+tried to remind Inky by stomping its foot and nudging their hand with its beak,
+but Inky had only smiled wanly and said they didn't have any good ideas right
+now. The duck began to suspect this was patently false when, while following
+Inky around on a trip to the market one afternoon, Inky had opened to a page in
+their notebook to jot down a few words. Hopping up onto a wooden crate to get a
+better view, the duck saw the notebook was almost completely filled with
+ingredient lists, preparation steps and extensive notes.
+
+It looked up to admonish Inky, and saw the rabbit imp was staring wistfully at
+a barrel of pimientos. When the duck looked back again, the expression had
+vanished, as did its owner, who had already crossed to the other side of the
+road and was walking at a brisk pace towards a juice stand. The duck gave an
+indignant quack and hastily waddled after them. How is a marketing manager to
+keep up when the recipe developer is twelve steps ahead of the process?
+
+
+#### III.
+
+"How did you do on the writing homework?" the turtle asks the imp.
+
+They are sitting at their favourite spot in the forest clearing — or rather,
+Enrique is leaning back against a tree with his knees partially drawn up, while
+Inky is sprawled on their back on the grass gazing at the clouds overhead,
+the schoolbooks next to Inky's head momentarily forgotten.
+
+"I don't know. I only know you wrote that you plan to be an ale brewer." Inky
+replies airily.
+
+Enrique looks down at the imp. "How did you know?"
+
+"It's written on your face, Henry. Literally. There's still hops pulp on your
+forehead. I'm sure you'll get a good grade though, most of the teachers like
+boring bottle answers like that."
+
+The turtle glowers at the imp's chuckle and swipes at his own forehead.
+
+"What did you write?" he retorts.
+
+Inky does not immediately respond.
+
+"Well? What *did* you write?" he asks again.
+
+"Invisible Ninja Kookie Yulestarter."
+
+The turtle blinks, slowly. "What— what's that?"
+
+"I don't know." replies the imp.
+
+"You don't know?" Enrique echoes, perplexed.
+
+"I just made something up. How would I know what I want to be in two-score
+years? It's not like I've met and had tea with future two-score-year me. Next
+year I'll be an Intergalean Neuestar Kickback Yorkie for sure." Child-Inky nods
+at Enrique sagely.
+
+"You really are something." The turtle shakes his head in exasperation, though
+a small smile appears on his face.
+
+"A terrible infant? That's old news, Henry." laughs the imp.
+
+"Telling the truth never gets old."
+
+Inky pouts. "Ouch. You win. But only because it was a quote from your mother."
+
+"Finish up your homework. I'm going back to the brewery soon to check on the
+new batch." Enrique gets up and brushes off his clothes.
+
+The imp gives him a pointed look. "Yes, Hen-reek."
+
+~~
+
+"Henry—" Child-Inky pleads.
+
+The young turtle looks extremely frustrated, almost angry. "For the umpteenth
+time, it's Enrique! See, that's your problem. You have no respect for other
+people's wishes and boundaries. Everything is a silly little game to you. Can't
+you be serious for once?"
+
+"Okay. Are we *seriously* going to the play—"
+
+"No." says the turtle firmly.
+
+They are standing at the dark iron gates leading into the brewery. Enrique has
+finally exited a huge building after Inky had stood for half an hour outside
+repeatedly yelling his name. But no matter how child-Inky wails and pouts,
+Enrique has still refused to accompany him to see the new garden play being
+performed in a field of scorpion grasses up the road from the forest.
+
+"Why not?" Child-Inky asks, head tilted to one side, not understanding.
+
+"Because I have things to do at the brewery. A new dryer has arrived. Father is
+going to show me how to use it and I need to get the moisture levels right."
+The aspiring brewer seems to be at the end of his patience.
+
+"But we haven't done anything fun together for a whole fortnight!" Child-Inky
+protests.
+
+The turtle wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. "I don't have time to
+trawl around the forest anymore."
+
+"You're saying that now, but I'll come by tomorrow and we can go see it then,"
+child-Inky says anyway.
+
+"No."
+
+"The day after tomorrow?" asks child-Inky hopefully.
+
+"No."
+
+"The tomorrow after tomorrow?"
+
+"No means no. This isn't the time for fun and games."
+
+"What if I don't come back tomorrow? Will you go see the play with me?" Inky
+asks, eyes watering and expression wobbly.
+
+"That's not how it works. Go home, __. I have to get back inside to check on
+the boilers." The turtle turns and walks along the path back into the building.
+
+"Then I'll come the day after the day before tomorrow!" Child-Inky calls after
+him. 
+
+"You didn't say no, is that a yes? Henry!"
+
+~~
+
+Blurriness, gradually coming into focus in the form of an elderly man's face
+with thin eyebrows, kind brown eyes, round spectacles and a concerted frown on
+the unfamiliar features.
+
+The man spoke slowly. "I see you've finally woken up. What's your name, little
+one?"
+
+"I—I …" The imp winced as a sharp prickling pain in their head made itself
+known at the sudden movement, followed by confusion and alarm when they attempt
+to answer the man's question and drew a blank.
+
+"It's all right, easy now, nib." said the elder as he helped the imp sit up
+with some rustling of bedclothes. "How are you feeling?"
+
+"A bit sore but … okay? What … happened?" asked the imp.
+
+"We found you two days ago on the river banks right outside of town. Some of
+the fisherfolk say there was a flash flood from a big storm a few hundred
+miles up the rapids which washed collapsed buildings and other debris
+downstream." The man explained.
+
+"Then where … where am … ?"
+
+The old man smiled. "Welcome to the township of Waterlan."
+
+~~
+
+"I'm sorry, Mr. Iridis. I haven't recalled anything yet." The imp said sadly to
+the ink craftsman as they sat at the small table over dinner. It had been
+almost a week since the elderly man had taken in the imp and assured them they
+could stay as long as they wished.
+
+Mr. Iridis was unperturbed by the news. "Hmm, well, we should still call you by
+name in the meantime … how does Inkulos sound?"
+
+
+#### IV.
+
+"Uggghhh!! That group of flaming owes were such noisy slobs. Dropping chunks of
+bread everywhere on the floor, squawking at a hundred decibels a minute, then
+accidentally scorching the table. Why can't we have more customers like the
+Swanson family?" Marnie groaned, tail twitching in irritation as she rubbed her
+temples.
+
+"Or that tea seller," added Gil sympathetically. 
+
+Enrique hadn't heard from old Takao in a long time. The elderly, jovial tea
+merchant who previously came with his partner and parakeet on weekends had
+retired a few years earlier to his ancestral home in Rana'For Valley. Maybe
+they had returned to visit relatives in the city.
+
+"Tea seller?" He turned to his head waiter, a portly frog named Gilgamesh.
+
+"Yeah, they've been coming almost daily for the past couple o' months now when
+they didn't disappear for a week or two in a row. Don't talk much but tip
+pretty well for a street vendor. Even left us free samples a few times. Marnie
+said the pepperwood blend did wonders for her headaches. I'm not a tea drinker,
+y'know, but she made me a cup once and it was definitely the real deal. Not the
+horse piss those shady asses over at Normington Mews try to pass off as tea."
+
+It wasn't Takao, but someone new in the district. Months? How had he not
+noticed before?
+
+"How does this tea seller look like?" he asked.
+
+"Short imp, dark eyes, kinda young? Wears a brimmed hat, carries around a tea
+flask and a wooden box. One of my neighbours saw them a few weeks ago at a
+market and thinks they're half-rabbit, but he says stuff like that about half
+the people he meets anyway."
+
+Enrique frowned. He knew all his regular patrons, young or old, and was sure he
+would remember seeing someone who fit the description.
+
+On further questioning his wait staff, he found out a few more things about
+them: they usually came around the same time most evenings when he was in the
+kitchens; had no particular menu preferences that Gil or Marnie could name
+(which was unusual, even the most adventurous of his customers reverted to a
+few personal favourites after some time); sat at the same corner table, the one
+he himself made use of occasionally on slow days where he could have an
+unobstructed view of the room and out into the street; and sometimes ordered
+enough for a gathering of associates, who did seem to have more distinct
+selections.
+
+He had seen his share of tight-lipped customers who were only there for a hot
+meal before or after a gruelling day of work and he was not one to pry.
+However, word of this new tea seller had piqued his interest. Maybe he'll buy
+them a round and have a look at their offerings. While ale would always remain
+his pride and joy, he did enjoy a good steaming cup on some of the coldest days
+of the year.
+
+Time for tea and a new acquaintance.
+
+~~
+
+The tea was excellent.
+
+It was easily the best tea he's had since Takao and Kaiya had moved away from
+the city and were unable to find a successor before they left. He ended up
+procuring more than he may have originally expected after sampling five
+different teas, including two recommended by the vendor, and found them all
+very pleasant, one even lightly invigorating. The tea seller, who went by the
+name Inky, was mild-mannered and polite as they described each blend in turn
+and answered questions about its origins. However, the imp had declined payment
+for the teas and when pressed, had mumbled some excuse and looked as though
+they wanted to leave. Eventually Enrique got them to accept some ale from the
+shop with a bit of haggling.
+
+Enrique had begun their conversation by introducing himself and inquiring about
+the meal earlier, whether his new regular had anything they liked in particular
+from the menu. Inky had responded positively, but seemed genuinely confused by
+the second question and only repeated "everything". After tea tasting, the
+topic had turned to the daily running of the shop and the effects of the late
+barley harvest this year on the breweries and their products. As a brewer
+himself, he was always keen to talk about his ales and beercraft in general,
+and was only a little startled when after some time, Gil appeared at their
+table to let him know the staff were done with cleaning and bid him goodnight. 
+
+To his surprise, Enrique found himself a little reluctant to chase out his new
+frequent customer so he could close the shop for the day. He turned back to
+his guest apologetically, but the tea seller had gotten the waiter's hint and
+was already on their feet with their flask and box. The imp thanked him, gave a
+quick little bow and was out of the shop in two blinks of an eye.
+
+The turtle stared after the closed doors for a moment, then returned to
+clearing away the tableware. Rinsing out their glasses, he collected the bills
+left on the table, counted them, and mentally shook his head. Little wonder his
+wait staff were so amenable to the tea seller's presence — it was enough to pay
+for a nice full-course dinner for two. Normally he would bristle at a potential
+insinuation that he was not paying his staff properly, but was oddly calmed at
+the sight of the boxes still sitting innocently on the table, almost as though
+he'd just had another cup of peppermint tea. Ridiculous, he told himself, and
+turned off the lights.
+
+~~
+
+"Why do you keep calling me Henry?" Enrique eventually asks as they walk
+though the forest on the way to his house. The imp is facing him as they trot
+backwards along the path, but at his question they turn and skip ahead a few
+paces before replying.
+
+"Because."
+
+"Because … ?" The turtle prompts.
+
+The imp says matter-of-factly, "Either your name's Henry or it's too long.
+Would you like to be called Too Long?"
+
+"No, but learning to call someone by their name properly wouldn't hurt."
+Enrique says evenly.
+
+The imp spins around and comes to stand in front of him, hands clasped behind
+their back and leaning right into his personal space. "Yes, it would, Henry.
+How would you like people calling you 'Julienne' all the time?"
+
+"I don't see anything wrong with that. Julien is a good name," he replies
+honestly.
+
+The little imp wrinkles their nose. "It's irritating. They never pronounce it
+correctly. I'm not a bunch of little matchsticks." They say peevishly and take
+a short step back, arms crossed.
+
+"Is that why you keep changing your name every other week?" the turtle wonders.
+
+His friend swings their arms to and fro as they resume walking, this time on
+tiptoe. "I haven't changed it yet. It's just written differently," they reply,
+bottom lip jutting out slightly and looking a bit thoughtful.
+
+Enrique recognises the expression as one that would appear whenever the imp was
+about to say something outlandish, and is proven right the next moment when the
+imp suddenly smiles.
+
+"Aren't you going to ask how?" The imp hops from side to side, as though
+jumping across invisible holes in the dirt.
+
+The turtle sighs internally. "All right, how is it written this week?"
+
+"J-o-u-l-e." His friend recites proudly.
+
+"That's … different." Enrique says consideringly.
+
+"Obviously." The imp seems pleased with their announcement as they shift into
+step next to Enrique along the path.
+
+"Didn't you say you were only changing the way it's written?" Enrique points
+out, and is rewarded with a cheerful reply.
+
+"Nope. Changed my mind just because you asked. You're welcome."
+
+~~
+
+Over the course of several months he got to know more about his new tea
+supplier, partly from the imp themselves and mostly through rumours and hearsay
+from his other regulars, though what he'd learned only brought more questions.
+
+He knew Inky occasionally departed the city on some business, joining a caravan
+with other travellers that went up and down the countryside to restock as well
+as hunt for new items and products. This Inky had told him once after they had
+been gone for almost two weeks and returned with a particularly zesty blend
+of citrus maghrebi. The imp had been adamant that it was a gift, and although
+Enrique had protested mildly at first, he was grateful nonetheless.
+
+When the tea seller was in the city, they would peddle on the streets during
+the day around various districts including some of the poorest neighbourhoods,
+though from what he was hearing from other diners, they were succeeding at
+handing out more cups of tea than they were at selling them. They didn't have a
+shop or trading office that he was aware of — he had tried asking for
+directions or an address where he could request a new supply, but the imp
+assured him with a quirky little smile they would come around regularly to take
+orders for their special tea enthusiasts.
+
+The lack of an address was bewildering. Surely with tea of such quality and the
+right customers they could afford rent for a small nook at the docks, or even
+near the shopping districts if they were serious about their trade? Moreover,
+what kind of tea seller gives away their wares freely like that? The imp's
+attire, while clean, was worn in several spots and had clearly seen better
+days, yet they had no compunctions about any of the menu items nor problems
+settling the tab afterwards. Maybe they were some type of mercenary who dabbled
+in a side business. If a customer did not wish others to be privy to what they
+did out of the city, he would leave it be.
+
+Their menu selection was another puzzler. Enrique looked forward to the tea
+seller's arrival and had made a point of getting some of his next-day
+preparations out of the way a little earlier so he could talk briefly with the
+imp on less busier evenings. However, after months of conversation he was still
+no closer to finding out what this regular customer of his liked. Inky seemed
+to order anything with no discernible pattern in the way some diners would
+always order a herb bake on Liandays, only that they never ordered the same
+dish to the day before, and rarely the same dish more than once a week.
+
+He did often have customers who relished variety, and this had been an impetus
+for Enrique to endeavour to come up with novel breads and recipes that would
+draw a new crowd and occasionally offer a bit of excitement for his repeat
+customers. Lately he had been trying out variations of the little elf's most
+recent recipe, but something was lacking. Offhandedly he mentioned his problem
+of the missing ingredient to the tea seller one night as the latter made their
+way through one of his carrot and cucumber loaves. Inky had merely looked at
+him and said "shishito". At that moment he was called away with another
+customer's request, but after all the patrons had left, he remembered their
+conversation earlier and went back to his recipe, this time adding the
+suggested peppers. The resulting flavours melded wonderfully — he had hit upon
+a winning combination.
+
+The next evening he prepared a small plate of his new empanadas for the tea
+seller to try, but the imp did not appear.
+
+
+#### V.
+
+It had been some time since he had heard from the little elf, as Enrique had
+taken to calling them in his mind. The tapas had stopped appearing, replaced
+with delightful recipes by mail from wherever it was helper elves went between
+visitations (the letters had no return address). Meanwhile the brewer busied
+himself with expanding his selection of empanadas through the recipes, even
+adding a new kale telera in a stroke of inspiration.
+
+More concerning was the fact that it had been at least several weeks since he
+had seen or heard from the tea seller. All manner of strange folk passed
+through his shop from time to time, so he shouldn't be surprised the tea seller
+may have decided to move on to another city altogether. Still, he did feel a
+pang of disappointment at losing good company, or the way the imp had left
+without so much as a farewell. There was something about the tea seller that he
+couldn't place that came with the ease with which they would talk of various
+subjects, from beer-making to the pilgrims who would stop in at the shop
+occasionally.
+
+On his way back from the market on one of his few days off when the shop was
+closed, he passed by the post office and was struck by a sudden thought. He
+went inside and showed the rabbit postmistress on duty the last message he had
+received (he had taken to carrying one or two of them on him for new ideas
+whenever he went to the market) and inquired about the sender. The postmistress
+was initially reluctant to answer on account of customer confidentiality, but
+after hearing his concern over the plight of his little elf friend, eventually
+relented. She recognised his shop address and was able to recall the appearance
+of a half-rabbit whose description matched the tea seller. Enrique walked the
+rest of the way back from the post office to his shop, thinking hard.
+
+Stunned bemusement soon gave way to vague worry — it was unlike the tapas chef
+to go silent for long without a leaving message, usually accompanied by a
+recipe. If the tapas chef and tea seller were the same person, it was possible
+they had gone with one of those caravans and something horrible had befallen
+them on the journey. He sighed and threw himself back into his ales and
+pastries with a single-minded focus, trying not to dwell on the possibility the
+imp might not return.
+
+~~
+
+"Enrique," his mother called.
+
+When he appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, his mother hesitated before she
+said, "I have some upsetting news, dear."
+
+"Mrs. Sapaverde came by earlier. She said one of the mill workers saw a small
+imp at the bottom of the hill from the brewery on her way home before the
+storm. The worker tried to warn the imp about the storm, but the child insisted
+they had to meet someone at the brewery."
+
+His mother was looking at him now with concern in her olive-coloured eyes. "We
+think it may have been your friend looking for you, not knowing the brewery was
+closed because of the weather."
+
+Enrique stilled. His father along with the other brewery employees had been
+anticipating the storm and had stayed late the day before carrying out
+preparations — elevating crates and barrels, tying down equipment, stacking
+sandbags, checking the waterproofing and other tasks. Before they left for the
+night, the employees were advised not to come in the next day due to possible
+flooding and mudslides. They had later learned the area around the hill had
+been flooded for the better part of two days. Fortunately the brewery sat atop
+of the hill and was mostly spared from damage aside from a small amount of
+rainwater in several rooms and some spoiled dry stock. Everyone had been aware
+of an impending thunderstorm and would have done the reasonable thing and
+stayed home … or so he thought.
+
+"Thanks … for telling me, Ma." He managed after a moment, and was instantly
+brought into his mother's comforting hug. His mother eventually let him trudge
+back to his room with a mug of cocoa and milk roll in hand.
+
+The first night he didn't have to return from storm cleanup at the brewery and
+immediately fall asleep from exhaustion, he dreamt of an imp at the gatepost,
+and of teatime, bears and tuckleberry jam.
+
+~~
+
+"QUACK!"
+
+A small yellow duck was standing in the open doorway of his shop and looking
+directly at him while he was checking on the ale taps, almost as though it was
+beckoning him. As he came closer, the duck hopped out of reach and onto the
+street, looking from him to a spot next to the shop and back again, staring at
+him. When he was standing just outside the building, the duck nipped at his
+tunic, then padded towards a set of stairs that led up to the Milk Market on
+the second floor. It turned back and looked at him.
+
+Thinking perhaps his affable landlord wished to speak with him and had sent a
+messenger, Enrique followed the duck up the stairs into a spacious landing with
+a corridor with a series of rooms along one side, and another that led to what
+appeared from a distance to be a larger area with big vats. The duck waddled
+down the corridor into a room at the end of the hall.
+
+The brewer walked into what looked like a cross between a small office, a
+shisha den and a bath stall. At one end of the room was some sort of wooden tub
+filled with water attached to a mushroom sprinkler, and a thick towel laid out
+on the floor. Next to the tub in the corner was a short chest of drawers with
+all the drawers pulled out, like a staircase leading nowhere, and stuffed
+woollen carrots, toys and other objects peeking out. A chia plant with some of
+its leaves chewed off sat atop the chest. Croutons, a bag of candy worms with
+its contents half-spilled onto the floor, crumpled notes, an oval wicker
+basket, cushions of all shapes and sizes on a tartan rug, a writing block with
+notepaper, a quill case, an uncorked bottle of ink and a small stack of books
+were scattered about the room.
+
+In the midst of the carnage sat the imp, hatless, cradling a cup of tea and
+looking dejectedly out the open window at the foot traffic passing through the
+alley below. The sight brought back a distant image of rainy afternoons and a
+child's face pressed against the window of his old bedroom, as though they
+could will the rain to stop if they stared long enough.
+
+He would recognise that sulk anywhere.
+
+The eyes that turned to him in surprise (chased by a slight edge of panic,
+though it was gone before he could be certain), outside the dim recess of the
+shop and lit by broad daylight coming from the window, were a startling deep
+blue. A colour he had many memories of in a different place and time.
+
+"Joule?" he called out disbelievingly. 
+
+"Hullo Enrique," his irritating, impish friend replied sheepishly, casting
+their gaze downwards, though not before sending a tiny look of betrayal at the
+duck's retreating form.
+
+Relief, amazement, annoyance and a myriad other emotions flashed through him
+and for several beats he was at a loss for words. He eventually settled for
+rightful indignation.
+
+"You!" he groused. "Why didn't you send word that you had returned? Even Gil
+thought you'd tripped over a rock and broke your neck out in the country
+somewhere! Have you been right here above my shop the entire time?!"
+
+"Not the entire time, I just got back last month and …" the imp's attempt
+at an explanation trailed off under Enrique's reproachful glare.
+
+"And if you had the gall to break into my kitchen, you can sure as well have
+the guts to show your face and own up to it." Enrique bit out.
+
+They remained silent for a long time, the turtle's bulky frame filling the
+room as he stood with folded arms and a heavy frown a few steps away from the
+entrance, and the rabbit imp on the floor looking thoroughly chastised with a
+half-empty teacup and legs tucked beneath them.
+
+Enrique finally spoke. "You're a terrible adult." There was no heat to the
+words. When the imp didn't respond, he continued, "Come down downstairs to the
+back when you're done here, and bring some of that pepperwood if you have any.
+Marnie's been hankering for more, and I suppose I wouldn't mind a cup myself
+after this." He gestured with one arm around the room. "If this is your trading
+post, I can certainly see why you don't invite your customers here."
+
+"It's my marketing manager's office." Joule, or Inky, as they were now known to
+the locals, had started picking up stray bits of paper and books and was
+clearing a path through the litter from window to doorway.
+
+"You have a marketing manager?" Enrique asked.
+
+"QUACK!" The duck had re-appeared at the door and was looking at Inky
+expectantly.
+
+"Five more minutes, okay?" Inky said to the duck. To Enrique, "It wants its
+bath and basket chair back." The candy and croutons had been scooped up into a
+small pumpkin-shaped metal bucket and set next to the chia plant.
+
+Enrique stared at his friend in bewilderment after the duck wandered off again.
+"Your marketing manager is a duck."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"How do you have a duck as your marketing manager?"
+
+Inky shrugged. "It followed me back and we made a deal."
+
+The turtle was unconvinced. "You mean you roped it into following you back."
+
+"Have it your way if you must insist on rewriting history, but for the record
+there is no forced labour involved and it gets all the benefits and perks." As
+they talked, Inky opened the writing block lid (actually the tea seller's
+wooden box now that Enrique had a closer look), pushing aside items inside
+before extracting two bags of fine tea leaves which they tossed at the turtle,
+who fumbled a bit but caught them. With Inky's teacup, books and quills packed
+away, they left the room to a mildly disgruntled duck who waved at them before
+strutting inside for a well-earned nap.
+
+Enrique looked around the hallway leading to the stairs. "Is your office also
+on the same floor?"
+
+"No, don't need one." said the imp as they descended the stairs.
+
+He frowned, but before he could ask, Inky answered his unspoken question. "I
+don't sell tea, Enrique." The ale brewer was about to argue the point when
+the imp's words abruptly came back to him: *Please consider it a gift.* He
+turned to Inky and found his friend already watching him from the bottom step.
+Waiting.
+
+A grin slowly spread over Enrique's face. "That's a pity. I was just thinking
+my tea seller might want to try my new line of empanadas on the house after
+making the deliveries."
+
+The imp only rolled their eyes. "Great. So your diners won't have to turn into
+skeletons to get their bread after all."
+
+The giant turtle chased the laughing imp all the way back to the kitchens.
+
+
+#### Epilogue
+
+Enrique looked up from checking on the walnut bread in the oven when Inky
+walked in accompanied by an unfamiliar face. A toque, newly arrived to the
+city by the looks of it, he guessed.
+
+After depositing a small box on one of the worktables, Inky settled atop an
+icebox and waved the visitor to a wooden stool nearby. Enrique greeted them
+both before closing the oven door again and stepping towards the worktable.
+"What brings you into my kitchen today?"
+
+Inky gave the chef a serious look that was immediately undermined by the
+humorous tenor in their next words. "I bring you a problem."
+
+Enrique snorted. "Just one?" he asked, but a small smile quirked on his face
+nevertheless. He opened the box to preview the contents and found one of his
+favourite blends. He set it to one side of the table for later.
+
+"For now. This one," Inky gestured to the toque next to them looking around at
+the loaves cooling on the racks with barely concealed excitement, "has never
+had an empanada in their life. And they have the gall to call themselves
+Bread!"
+
+Enrique shook hands with the toque. "Hi Bread, I'm Enrique. Unfortunately the
+troublemaker is right, you must try them. Made by hand as they have always been
+from the first day, every one of them!" informed the chef with a definite note
+of pride in his voice. He handed Bread a pair of enticing golden brown pastries
+wrapped in a paper sleeve from a tray kept warm on a broiler.
+
+To Inky, he said, "So you wanted me to give them a quick demo?"
+
+Inky grinned as they replied, "Even better, have you thought about taking on an
+apprentice? Bread here is a sturdy hand, hard worker and keen to learn."
+
+The empanada chef stroked his chin with a thumb and fore claw thoughtfully.
+"Well, I suppose I have, actually. The nut breads we talked about have been
+flying out the door so fast I can barely keep up. At this rate I'd need another
+one of me to get more out there!" He chuckled.
+
+He looked at Bread again, assessing. "When can you start? We'll be up early to
+get the dough going and all the ingredients prepared for a long day. How about
+we begin with the basics, see where you're at, and go from there?"
+
+~
+
+Inky had left with Bread shortly after the latter had further introduced
+themselves and they had arranged for the toque to return the following week.
+Although Enrique had reiterated it would be on a trial basis initially, he had
+a good feeling about the new hire. Maybe it was the way the toque's eyes lit up
+at their first bite of empanada. The fact that this was someone Inky had
+casually dragged in should set off all of his mental alarms. Still, despite his
+friend's often flagrant disregard for anything inedible, they could be very
+observant when they wanted. Clearly they had seen something in the toque's
+character to recommend them personally.
+
+He was already going through lesson plans in his head, and was so engrossed in
+making a list of things to gather for his new apprentice that when he turned
+around to grab a pair of oven mittens, he had to do a double-take. There, on
+the icebox that the imp had recently vacated, a small green turtle stared back
+at him from where it sat on a cocoa-coloured pie slightly wider than the
+turtle. On closer inspection, the ensemble appeared to be a cake decorated with
+cream and dark chocolate buttons for eyes, set on a round wooden plank lined
+with parchment. Under the plank was a note in the now-familiar crisp blue
+lettering: "ENJOY YOUR TERRAPAN :)"
+
+Enrique huffed out a laugh. He already knew what he would find on the other
+side of the note without turning it over. Pocketing the slip of paper carefully
+in his apron, he went to get a knife and plate to help himself to a slice of
+delicious mud pie.

src/bestiary/aetherwael.md

@@ -0,0 +1,10 @@
+---
+title: aetherwael
+created: Fri, 06 Jan 2023 11:06:47 -0700
+updated: Fri, 06 Jan 2023 11:06:47 -0700
+public: yes
+---
+
+<dt id="aetherwael">Aetherwael</dt>
+: A void whale. Most commonly observed in the swimming in the earth's atmosphere, where they come to breath air. But they spend most of their time in the void of space, where they dive to great depths.
+: <details>![aetherwael](aetherwael.png)</details>

src/bestiary/aur.md

@@ -4,6 +4,6 @@ created: Wed, 14 Sep 2022 11:29:46 -0600
 updated: Wed, 14 Sep 2022 11:29:46 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-<dt>Aur</dt>
+<dt id="aur">Aur</dt>
 : Giant ears with bat wings. Very keen hearing obviously. Usually more of an annoyance than a true deterent. Unless there's a Centaur around.
 : <details>![aur](aur.png)</details>

src/bestiary/blahoblin.md

@@ -5,7 +5,7 @@ updated: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
 
-<dt>Blahoblin</dt>
+<dt id="blahoblin">Blahoblin</dt>
 : a little goblinoid with the head of a goblin shark
 : <details>![blahoblin](goblin.gif)</details>
 

src/bestiary/centaur.md

@@ -5,6 +5,6 @@ updated: Wed, 21 Sep 2022 21:00:26 -0400
 public: yes
 ---
 
-<dt>Centaur</dt>
+<dt id="centaur">Centaur</dt>
 : A hundred ears with a hundred wings. The size of a small horse. They can really ruin your day.
 : <details>![centaur](centaur.png)</details>

src/bestiary/cobit.md

@@ -4,6 +4,6 @@ created: Wed, 28 Sep 2022 11:41:29 -0600
 updated: Wed, 28 Sep 2022 11:41:29 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-<dt>Cobit</dt>
+<dt id="cobit">Cobit</dt>
 : A creature on the cob. The middle life stage of the corn creature, between Aur and Centaur. It does not have wings. Its flesh is comprised of thousands of hard microkernels. They travel in herds, and can hear at the speed of sound.
 : <details>![cobit](cobit.gif)</details>

src/bestiary/dwrlugh.md

@@ -0,0 +1,28 @@
+---
+title: dwrlugh
+created: Fri, 10 Mar 2023 12:16:46 -0700
+updated: Fri, 10 Mar 2023 12:16:46 -0700
+public: yes
+---
+<dt id="dwrlugh">Dwrlugh</dt>
+: Dwrlugh are creatures from under the earth.
+They have a natural affinity for stone and metal,
+which they can seemingly work with merely a touch.
+Their skill and craftsmanship is unparalleled in all of Basmentaria.
+Though they admire the handiwork of the Zephynos
+and indeed lack their skill with cloudstuff,
+the dwrlugh consider the cloud dragons undisciplined
+and their work rather crude and unrefined.
+They come in a great variety of shapes and sizes,
+but on the whole are somewhat shorter
+and more slender than a human.
+Their flesh appears as though made of flecks and shards of stone,
+as does their hair,
+which grows on their head and their face
+like a lion's mane.
+Their eyes seem to smolder like coal
+or glow like molten gemstone.
+Dwrlugh refuse given names,
+referring to one another by any number
+of (often changing) descriptions
+such as location, deed, relationship, etc.

src/bestiary/egre.md

@@ -5,6 +5,7 @@ updated: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
 <p></p>
-Egre
+
+<dt id="egre">Egre</dt>
 : Giant muscle bird. Proud, muscly, vain, fashion forward. Beautiful plumage.
-: <details>![egre](egre.png)</details>
+: <details>![egre](egre.png)</details>

src/bestiary/gnome.md

@@ -5,7 +5,8 @@ updated: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
 <p></p>
-Gnome
+
+<dt id="gnome">Gnome</dt>
 : Tiny tinkerers. Highly combustible. Very explosive. Like making contraptions powered by steam and/or coal
 : All gnomes are women. All gnomes are engineers. They have bright red noses, and very long ears. And long nimble fingers.
 : <details>![gnome](gnome.gif)</details>

src/bestiary/gnu.md

@@ -4,6 +4,6 @@ created: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 16:08:32 -0600
 updated: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 16:08:32 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-<dt>Gnu</dt>
+<dt id="gnu">Gnu</dt>
 : Bisonpeople. Long beards, long hair, horns. Poor personal hygiene. Uncompromising idealists. They insist on a world of free and open-source magic. They refuse to use any magic that they cannot study, modify, redistribute, and use however they want. Theirs is a political movement that borders on religion. Or a religious movement that borders on politics.
 : <details>![gnu](gnu.png)</details>

src/bestiary/groll.md

@@ -4,6 +4,6 @@ created: Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:34:32 -0600
 updated: Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:34:32 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-<dt>Groll</dt>
+<dt id="groll">Groll</dt>
 : A dirty mop head on long, stilt-like legs. Solitary wanderers. They love magic, but have no natural aptitude for it, and so covet magical items like wands, staves, and orbs. A typical groll is a walking arsenal of runes and wands.
 : <details>![groll](groll.png)</details>

src/bestiary/harrowkrake.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ created: Mon, 07 Nov 2022 09:06:11 -0700
 updated: Mon, 07 Nov 2022 09:06:18 -0700
 public: yes
 ---
-<dt>Harrowkrake</dt>
+<dt id="harrowkrake">Harrowkrake</dt>
 : A colossal many-tentacled sea monster with a hard shell. It drags itself along the ocean floor, carving deep furrows in which it lives, catching prey with its tentacles.
 : <details>![harrowkrake](harrowkrake.png)</details>
 

src/bestiary/hemogoblin.md

@@ -5,7 +5,7 @@ updated: Tue, 25 Oct 2022 08:40:02 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
 
-<dt>Hemogoblin</dt>
+<dt id="hemogoblin">Hemogoblin</dt>
 : A fluffy little goblinoid, dripping blood absolutely EVERYWHERE. Oh god, don't let it touch that! Ew.
 : Dispite everything, disgustingly cute.
 : Sole manufacturers of an extremely high quality synthetic blood, and thus pretty much single-handedly support the "vegetarian" vampire community.

src/bestiary/horkosgrampus.md

@@ -4,7 +4,8 @@ created: Mon, 07 Nov 2022 09:06:11 -0700
 updated: Mon, 07 Nov 2022 09:06:18 -0700
 public: yes
 ---
-<dt>Horkosgrampus</dt>
+<dt id="horkosgrampus">Horkosgrampus</dt>
 : Toothy whales with a single long tusk. They are mostly scavengers, and are only provoked to violence in the presence of a lie or the breaking of an oath, in which case they go into a frenzy preying on the liar or liars. They can smell blood from a great distance, but can hear a lie from much further.
+: <details>![horkosgrampus](horkosgrampus.png)</details>
 
 

src/bestiary/index.md

@@ -1,10 +1,31 @@
 ---
 title: bestiary
-created: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
-updated: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
+created: Tue 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
+updated: Tue 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-## Bestiary
+## Appendix C: Bestiary
 
 Some of the creatures who inhabit the world of Basmentaria
 
+
+[aetherwael](#aetherwael) 
+[aur](#aur) 
+[blahoblin](#blahoblin) 
+[centaur](#centaur) 
+[cobit](#cobit) 
+[dwrlugh](#dwrlugh) 
+[egre](#egre) 
+[gnome](#gnome) 
+[gnu](#gnu) 
+[groll](#groll) 
+[harrowkrake](#harrowkrake) 
+[hemogoblin](#hemogoblin) 
+[horkosgrampus](#horkosgrampus) 
+[kobit](#kobit) 
+[merbear](#merbear) 
+[noogle](#noogle) 
+[tardigrade](#tardigrade) 
+[toque](#toque) 
+[torque](#torque) 
+[zephynos](#zephynos)

src/bestiary/kobit.md

@@ -4,6 +4,6 @@ created: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 updated: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-<dt>Kobit</dt>
+<dt id="kobit">Kobit</dt>
 : Subterranean scaly ratdog creatures. Big luminous eyes, long droopy mustaches. Extremely rarely, they may grow leathery wings, in which case they are revered and elevated by the other kobits.
 : <details>![kobit](kobit.png)</details>

src/bestiary/merbear.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ created: Mon, 07 Nov 2022 09:06:11 -0700
 updated: Mon, 07 Nov 2022 09:06:18 -0700
 public: yes
 ---
-<dt>Merbear</dt>
+<dt id="merbear">Merbear</dt>
 : Top half bear. Thick, hairless, leathery skin with a thick layer of blubber to keep it warm. Bottom half fish.
 : <details>![merbear](merbear.png)</details>
 

src/bestiary/noogle.md

@@ -0,0 +1,26 @@
+---
+title: noogle
+created: Tue, 31 Jan 2023 18:04:21 -0700
+updated: Tue, 31 Jan 2023 18:04:21 -0700
+public: yes
+---
+
+<dt id="noogle">Noogle</dt>
+: A cat with owl wings. They wear a propeller hat, which helps them hover in
+mid-air, as well as a bell and a cloth pouch with slips of fortunes around
+their necks. When they are standing still, their default facial expression
+makes them look as though they are either asleep on their feet or aghast at the
+sight before them. However, a smirking expression directed at a non-bird is a
+sign of trouble for their target: the latter is about to become catnip.
+
+    While not rare, noogle sightings are uncommon. They sometimes appear to lost
+travellers or people seeking an oracle for counsel. A fortune can be obtained
+from a noogle in exchange for a good deed, large or small, usually to be
+completed by the requester within a year of receiving the fortune. If the
+counsel seeker neglects to fulfill the deed, or completes it with ill
+intentions, a significant misfortune may befall them.
+
+    It is said that dreaming of a noogle on the first night of a new year will
+bring good fortune to the dreamer for the year.
+: <details>![noogle](noogle.png)</details>
+

src/bestiary/tardigrade.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ created: Mon, 07 Nov 2022 09:06:11 -0700
 updated: Mon, 07 Nov 2022 09:06:18 -0700
 public: yes
 ---
-<dt>Tardigrade</dt>
+<dt id="tardigrade">Tardigrade</dt>
 : A water bear. It has eight jointless legs, each tipped with four sharp claws. It wriggles and wobbles like jelly as it gesticulates.
 : <details>![tardigrade](tardigrade.png)</details>
 

src/bestiary/toque.md

@@ -4,6 +4,6 @@ created: Fri, 16 Sep 2022 14:24:45 -0600
 updated: Fri, 16 Sep 2022 14:24:45 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-<dt>Toque</dt>
+<dt id="toque">Toque</dt>
 : Wild men of the mountains. Their long, sloping, vertically-creased foreheads and their bulbous, floppy skullcaps make it look like they wear chef's hats. But no, that's just what their heads look like.
 : <details>![toque](toque.jpg)</details>

src/bestiary/torque.md

@@ -4,6 +4,6 @@ created: Fri, 16 Sep 2022 14:24:45 -0600
 updated: Tue, 20 Sep 2022 13:48:50 -0400
 public: yes
 ---
-<dt>Torque</dt>
+<dt id="torque">Torque</dt>
 : The twisted people. Their bodies literally twisted and warped by magic into gruesome forms, these wretched creatures are hated and reviled across the lands.
 : <details>![torque](torque.jpg)</details>

src/bestiary/zephynos.md

@@ -4,6 +4,6 @@ created: Sun, 16 Oct 2022 12:01:54 -0600
 updated: Sun, 16 Oct 2022 12:01:54 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-<dt>Zephynos</dt>
+<dt id="zephynos">Zephynos</dt>
 : Juvenile cloud dragons. They have wide heads and lidless eyes. Multiple pairs of filamented stalks behind their head help them fly. They have six underdeveloped limbs with long, thin fingers that they use to manipulate cloudstuff into solid objects.
 : <details>![zephynos](zephynos.png)</details>

src/characters/alex.md

@@ -1,7 +1,7 @@
 ---
 title: alex
 created: Fri, 18 Nov 2022 09:04:34 -0700
-updated: Thu, 22 Dec 2022 12:43:42 -0700
+updated: Tue, 03 Jan 2023 16:32:30 -0700
 public: yes
 ---
 ### Alex
@@ -13,10 +13,10 @@ Alex is like Corraidhin in some aspects, he’s younger, more brash, more given
 
 - Player: sinatra
 - XP: 1
-- Skills: Do Anything 1, Investigation 2, Illusions 2, Sneaking 2, Sysorcery 2, Stabbing 2
-- Equipment: a bunch of STAG drones
+- Skills: Do Anything 1, Investigation 2,  Sneaking 2, Sysorcery 2, Stabbing 2, Illusions 3
+- Equipment: a bunch of STAG drones, stone of *courage*
 
 Paths:
 
-- Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start, Two In The Hand
+- Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start, Two In The Hand, The Triple Lindy
 

src/characters/index.md

@@ -4,5 +4,5 @@ created: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 updated: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-## Characters
+## Appendix A: Dramatis Personae
 

src/characters/inky.md

@@ -1,7 +1,7 @@
 ---
 title: inky
 created: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
-updated: Fri, 18 Nov 2022 09:01:22 -0700
+updated: Tue, 03 Jan 2023 16:32:35 -0700
 public: yes
 ---
 ### Inky
@@ -17,11 +17,11 @@ What do you plan to do with your cut of the money? Buy lots of ink ingredients,
 
 - Player: mio
 - XP: 0
-- Skills: Do Anything 1, Persuasive 2, Plantomancy 2, Throwing 2, Medicine 2
+- Skills: Do Anything 1, Persuasive 2, Throwing 2, Medicine 2, Plantomancy 3
 - Equipment: Handy Duffer Discette, Fine Feathered Quills, Jade Tea Set, Mountain Range Glyph Ink, Bead of the Werehare
 
 Paths:
 
-- Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start, Two In The Hand
+- Retriever: Contractual Obligation, An Auspicious Start, Two In The Hand, The Triple Lindy
 - Were-Hare: Lepusthropy, Beast Sense, Hybrid Form
-- Tasseomancer: Reading, Ceremony
+- Tasseomancer: Reading, Ceremony, Steeping, Blending, Caffeine, Scrying

src/epistolary/00038.md

@@ -1,431 +0,0 @@
----
-title: 00038
-created: Mon, 14 Nov 2022 18:30:25 -0700
-updated: Mon, 14 Nov 2022 18:30:35 -0700
-syndicated: yes
-public: yes
----
-### 00038 {#00038}
-
-> The mission, party-wise, had been an abject failure.
-> 
-> They had found the crystal, and Master Corraidhín had vanished.
-> Inky wasn't sure which was worse — the appalling lack of
-> water-resistant fireworks surrounding the disappearance, or the
-> bears' ceaseless waterworks in grief over their ghostly
-> counterparts. Said bears plus a giant manta ray were eventually
-> left with the remains of Inky's two snack stashes. (The third was
-> back on the *Diamond Howler*.) The crystal was currently securely
-> hidden away inside the Milk Market, which was for the best. Inky
-> was not about to drag around an inedible melon that could
-> potentially level entire cities, if the wizard's hints about its
-> power were true. The crystal-retrieval missions were a cover anyway
-> — Inky had gotten what they were looking for. The equipment and
-> provisions sponsored by the Benefactor were a handy bonus though.
-> 
-> Inside the tent, Inky adds the finishing flourishes to a package
-> and places it to one side, next to two others of a similar size and
-> a thin envelope already piled inside a padded sack on the ground.
-> The client should be pleased. It had taken longer, but the result
-> had been worth the additional hassle. The envelope, on the other
-> hand … who knew what had become of the previous one, sent in an
-> impulsive fit of post-dive haze once the ship had docked at the
-> port town. Donning a grey fedora, a worn light brown jacket, a
-> flask kettle and a wooden box with carrying straps, Inky the "Tiny"
-> tea seller leisurely sets off for the post office, sack in hand.
-> 
-> It was still a bit strange — if less shocking than the first time
-> it happened — to speak in rabbiton with the postmistress at the
-> counter, although Inky couldn't actually detect any significant
-> differences from the common tongue besides occasionally being
-> reminded they shouldn't be able to understand the sounds at all.
-> Rabbiton or rabbitoff, hare mail couriers are among the fastest
-> across Basmentaria and will ensure any parcels and letters arrive
-> at their recipients in a timely manner. Due to their broad network
-> and high delivery confidence, letters without return addresses were
-> no issue; they can deliver with a valid recipient address, which
-> they are able to verify from an extensive series of registries and
-> course codes before taking the item. So it was that one such
-> envelope containing yet another somewhat unusual recipe was
-> promptly delivered to the Milk Market's ground floor on a blustery
-> Boltday afternoon.
-> 
-> Postage done, Inky wanders through one of the city's seedier
-> districts, peddling cups of hot tea along the way. This had become
-> a daily routine for a little over a month since the Sugrin Sea
-> mission (longer and more sporadically before that whenever the imp
-> was in the city), including a spontaneous fifteen-minute "Tiny
-> Teatime" held in open areas such as small parks, or occasionally in
-> a back alley between several crowded residences. The tea happening
-> had initially been a whimsical response to *Teatime with Tanokuma*
-> and still regularly attracted children when iced drinks were served
-> during the summertime.
-> 
-> Rows of slightly crooked houses sandwiched among acacia trees line
-> a narrow, winding lane. Inky passes the elderly playing tabula
-> surrounded by a small group of onlookers, people chewing on sweet
-> lemongrass or peeling vegetables, hanging up laundry on colourful
-> lines made of scrap rags, children laughing and chasing soapy
-> bubbles with wands dripping from laundry water, and all sorts of
-> activity that made houses into homes. Many of them were frank about
-> not having any spare coins for extras like speciality teas brewed
-> "just like them shops", but gladly accepted a steaming bamboo cup
-> upon realising they needn't pay, if sometimes a little suspiciously
-> at first. Instead of coin, they held a rich font of stories, local
-> legends, folk remedies, cooking methods, insider tip-offs and
-> rumours, which they were often eager to impart to an attentive
-> audience.
-> 
-> Some of the passer-by were always in a hurry, downing the tea as
-> though it were a shot of hard liquor before retrieving a handful of
-> loose coins from a pocket or sock. When Inky smiled and told them
-> there was no charge, most would return a puzzled look or uncertain
-> smile, or roll their eyes, and drop a copper coin into a slot on
-> the lid of the box anyway. A few had promptly walked off wordlessly
-> with snickering faces, as though they had gotten away with
-> something clever. Regardless, it was one of the best ways to see
-> and observe a bustling metropolis. No one took any particular
-> notice of young urchins and vendors selling refreshments, flowers
-> and various trinkets on the streets.
-> 
-> Likewise no one witnessed a tea seller pause near one of the
-> windows at the back of Enrique's Empanada Emporium late in the day.
-> For a while they watch the chef within in action, clearly in his
-> element, before reluctantly pulling away and retreating quietly up
-> the stairs to the second floor. They should wash up and see if
-> their marketing manager is in the mood for some takeout and
-> Terrapin Ale this evening.
-
-~
-
-> Background: Alex isn't young, but in comparison to his whizzened
-> uncle Corraidhin he's the depiction of youth. He has jet black hair
-> and alert blue eyes, and a quiet serenity about him that gives one
-> pause, as though he's constantly calculating. He gives into his
-> passions quickly however, and becomes rather animated when his
-> emotions break loose. He'll be the first to curse his uncle for his
-> foolish endeavors, never quite understanding the sysorcerer's way.
-> Early in life, after the death of his parents, Corraidhin took him
-> under his wing and tried in vain to teach him the ways of magical
-> systems administration. Much to Corraidhin, it only resulted in
-> damaged systems, and a rift with his nephew.
-> 
-> It took years to recover from that, but eventually the two grew
-> close again, though distant nonetheless. That closeness reflects
-> itself in the situation Alex finds himself in now, a mysterious
-> alert from some overly contrived magical system, ruining his
-> perfectly good winning streak. It's not that he was necessary bad
-> at all of that stuff, it just, wasn't as much fun as gambling. And
-> it certainly wasn't as exhillerating as writing malware.
-> 
-> Breaking into a system, smashing it to bites and pieces, watching
-> the carefully wrought design burn in amber and green, now THAT was
-> magic.
-> 
-> META: Alex is like Corraidhin in some aspects, he's younger, more
-> brash, more given to whim and fancy. He's somewhat greedy and
-> craven, attracted to riches far too easily. He's a passionate
-> gambler, not due to his skill, but by virtue of his ability to
-> distract and confuse, which gives him a delightful edge. Some would
-> call it lucky, but he calls it subterfuge. He has some sysorcerer
-> skills, nothing quite as flexible as Corraidhin, but he
-> delightfully wreaks havoc with worms, scrapers, ransom & spyware.
-> If he can't bypass something, he'll delightfully destroy it. If he
-> can't break in, he'll distract someone or something so he can slip
-> by.
-> 
-> (Think rogue + illusion magic, where Corraidhin is straight Wizard)
-> 
-> Introduction: Kev, just give it to me straight, the hell does this
-> Deadman's trigger mean. You can't have a service like that flap,
-> it's a boolean, you're either dead or your not. And don't try to
-> lie to me, I'm not some project managing schmuck, you know full and
-> well Uncle Corraidhin taught me. I know enough to tell when you're
-> lying.
-> 
-> (Kevin) Ah, well, umm. Yes I suppose that's true. You can't be dead
-> and not. It's just not an option. But Zabbix doesn't lie! It's what
-> monitors your Uncle's life force, the state of his infrastructure
-> so to speak. Look check your own, there's nothing to indicate any
-> issue with you, but your uncle's fluxuates consistently. None of
-> his other state checks are failing though! So it could just be a
-> problem with his Deadman's trigger code.
-> 
-> Absolutely not. Corraidhin might be a flighty fool, but he's not
-> someone who would deploy faulty code to production. There's no way
-> in hell it would get past his linter, let alone all of the QA he
-> does before it even gets that far. Look, what the hell did you drag
-> him into, you know exactly what he gets up to, just point me in his
-> direction so I can get this shit over with.
-> 
-> (Kevin) Hmm, he didn't really want me to talk about it, but last I
-> saw him, he was babbling on and on about some magical Json sword or
-> something. I couldn't quite keep up with it.
-> 
-> You were trying to get him to buy into KDL again weren't you?
-> 
-> (Kevin) It's a good language I swear, and if your uncle had just..
-> (Alex cuts him off)
-> 
-> Hush it. What did the sword look like, where was he headed?
-> 
-> (Kevin) *sigh* it was large, with a ruby hilt, and a magical eye of
-> some sort. I'm certain if you just ask around you'll find it. Just
-> ask about the sysorcerer who mutters to his sword, that's how the
-> poor bastard is remembered around here these days.
-> 
-> 
-> With this information Alex departed the Sysorcerer's guild in
-> search of his Uncle. As he asked around town, people shied away.
-> Nasty business talking about that one, they'd tell him. A few
-> mentioned something about an attack, and a dagger and bloodlust the
-> likes of which they'd only heard from the bard at their local
-> tavern. None of this sounded like the Uncle he remembered, but he
-> followed the trail until it lead him to the Milk Maid.
-> 
-> As Alex checked around for someone, anyone who seemed to be in the
-> know, he spotted Inky, serving tea as she watched the ongoings at
-> the Empanada shop near the Milk Maid.
-> 
-> Excuse me, miss? You wouldn't have happened to seen my Uncle, he's
-> an old whizened fellow. Constantly harrumphs and goes on and on
-> endlessly about some magical script, or how much he hates the
-> School of Powershell. I haven't been able to find him, and I've
-> been looking all over the city for the better part of 3 days. Note
-> even his best friend Kevin at the Sysorcer's guild knew where he
-> was, and I'm just, I'm at a bit of a loss..
-> 
-> *sigh* I'm sorry to just unload on your like that. If you don't
-> know him that's okay, I'd be happy to pay for a cup of tea for your
-> time.
-
-~
-
-> *(Two days prior)*
-> 
-> An office, barely illuminated by the glow of a moonstone lamp.
-> 
-> An elf attired in red silk dress robes with a shimmering pattern of
-> butterflies, a red floral picture hat and matching high heel boots
-> lounged in the visitor's chair in front of a heavy wooden desk. The
-> charms dangling from her wrist circlets tinkled as she reached for
-> a teacup. A silver tray was placed to one side of the desk with a
-> pot of maghrebi francus, two porcelain cups and a bowl of sugar
-> cubes. The remaining surface was mostly covered by a map of
-> Basmentaria, the moonstone lamp and a short stack of books. Behind
-> the desk sat an imp in a midnight blue suit, a dart pen balanced on
-> the edge of two fingers of one hand, while the other tapped a
-> silent rhythm on the pineapple leather armrest.
-> 
-> The lady in dress robes spoke first. "I made some inquiries. That
-> sysorcerer acquaintance of yours seems to be stuck in some sort of
-> spatial-temporal loop. The anomalies are usually salvageable given
-> time and expert attention. His nephew is out looking for him now."
-> She hands the imp a sheet with a drawing of a pensive but
-> bright-eyed young man with dark hair, and several lines of notes
-> below. "How are things at your end?"
-> 
-> "The situation is tenable for the moment. One checked, another
-> disengaged. Between the wizard and bard, Blackfoot will think twice
-> before making any more untoward moves. One of the waiters at the
-> club said the bard gave him a little dressing-down after the
-> stabbing. He was practically shaking in his boots by the end of
-> it."
-> 
-> The elf laughed. "I read your earlier missive. Slipping a catalyst
-> into a milk pudding to stir up a bloodthirsty sword? I guess you
-> were pretty sure the thirst wouldn't get out of hand and kill the
-> hobbit outright."
-> 
-> "Not entirely, but the good wizard would fight it with considerable
-> strength of will. That guild of his may be full of white hats too
-> busy with their petty squabbling over semantics to see trouble
-> looming until it smacked them in their faces, but they have their
-> principles and will not give in easily when challenged." The imp
-> grimaced. "An unpleasant matter but arguably a necessity. It was
-> only a matter of time before the cursed sword would find itself a
-> target. May as well put evil to good use."
-> 
-> "You did what you had to do, Ink. And that sailor with the gold
-> eye?"
-> 
-> "Met with an unfortunate … accident. Securing the crystal would
-> have been sufficient, but the horkosgrampus weren't terribly
-> impressed with him. The Benefactor should be relieved. Men of their
-> ilk would sooner sell to the highest bidder." The pen twirled in
-> their hand once, twice, before pausing with the nib pointing
-> downward at a spot on the map. The imp continued, "All the more
-> reason to move as soon as the young man finds his uncle. Kelsun
-> Peak, most likely."
-> 
-> "Right. I'll let the others know if anything happens." She rose to
-> her heels in a whisper of brocade silks. "Do you want an antidote
-> for … ?" She gestured with a slim, graceful hand framed in delicate
-> strands of the gold bracelets towards her companion.
-> 
-> The imp inclined their head slightly in grateful acknowledgement.
-> "No need. The condition is relatively harmless and reversing the
-> effects now might raise suspicion. The postmistress at the Hutcheon
-> Lane branch of Leplus Post was very tickled by it."
-> 
-> "I see. So that's how it is." she replied with undisguised mirth.
-> The imp ignored her smirk. "Please see to it the preparations are
-> carried out. The fate of your beloved operetta house may well
-> depend upon it."
-> 
-> "You would never!" The elven lady exclaimed in mock affront. "No, I
-> wouldn't, even though it is the bane of all fine glassware.
-> However, if the crystals came to less discerning hands …" They
-> shared a solemn look before the elf nodded and swept out of the
-> room, leaving the cloying scent of violets in her path.
-> 
-> ~
-> 
-> Inky gestures wordlessly for the young wizard to follow them
-> upstairs to the second floor of the Milk Market, heading straight
-> for the room at one end of a long hallway.
-> 
-> As Inky enters, their small and fluffy marketing manager pops its
-> head out of the wooden tub of water standing to one side of the
-> room. "We have a visitor!" Inky cheerfully tells the duck. Their
-> marketing manager looks back at them both and says, "QUACK!"
-> 
-> Inky turns back to the young man with a smile. "Please have a seat.
-> How may we address you? Tea? No charge for Master Corraidhín's
-> nephew, of course."
-> 
-> Once seated on some cushions thrown over a slightly ratty tartan
-> rug and having poured out a steaming cup of mandarin pekoe for each
-> of them, Inky begins, "So, about your uncle. The good news is, we
-> know him. The bad news is, we knew him." They then proceed to
-> recount the events of their latest mission at the site of a
-> shipwreck out in the Sugrin Sea, and the elder sysorcerer's
-> disappearance.
-
-Prelude:
-
-A fringe movement of lunatic paleornithologists and crackpots of
-various other professions has slowly been gaining traction over the
-last few decades. The movement was born when the enterprising Modern
-Fuchsia, at the time a budding young scientist on a dig yearning to
-make a name for himself, found the fossil of a modern feathered
-bird---probably some kind of swallow---alongside a theropod, that
-variety of dinosaur widely accepted to be the ancestor of modern
-birds. Faced with what he believed to be irrefutable evidence of a
-modern descendant coexisting alongside its own ancient ancestor,
-Fuchsia arrived at the only conclusion he was capable of making:
-Birds Are Not Dinosaurs. And thus BAND came into being.
-
-Ever since, Fuschia and his BANDits have spent considerable amounts
-of time and energy attending conferences and publishing papers,
-pouting and demanding to be taken seriously by the wider scientific
-community. A community which, if it pays them any attention at all,
-merely mocks and ridicules their crackpot theories.
-
-Modern Fuschia is of course wrong. But neither he nor his BANDits
-know how dangerously close he came to the actual truth.
-
-For much, much deeper in the shadowy fringes of paleornithology,
-there is a clandestine operation called BATT. And only BATT knows the
-actual explanation for how a modern descendant might coexist
-alongside its own ancestor. Birds Are Time Travelers.
-
-In the far future when birds are the dominant intelligent life on
-Basmentaria, they do indeed invent time travel. The end result was
-catastrophic and is the real reason that the dinosaurs went extinct.
-
-It is a common misconception that barn swallows are the most common
-and widespread species of swallow. That distinction in fact belongs
-to the *time swallow*. Although---if you're lucky---you'll never
-actually see one. Since the Incident, the secret agents of BATT have
-vowed never again to interfere with or try to alter the time stream.
-Nor to allow anyone else to. The time swallows are special bred,
-special trained, appearing wherever and whenever an anomaly appears
-to remove it and restore the proper timeline. The tiny birds quite
-literally swallow, consume, and destroy anything that meddles with
-time.
-
-At their headquarters, in the present day, BATT Director Purple
-Martin is delivering a report to his superior. Martin has a throaty
-and rich voice of which he is self-conscious in the presence of his
-superior's persistent silence.
-
-"We have successfully extracted the sysorcerer and have repaired the
-anomaly. The subject is currently under the care of Felixe and is
-expected to make a full recovery. In his possession were a couple of
-interesting artifacts. One Class C sentient object, a sword. And a
-piece of exotica of unknown origin. Our researchers so far suspect
-that it is a sort of reliquary containing both elemental and divine
-arcana. The xot's physical manifestation---a crystalline ore---thus
-far prevents us from determining the precise identity of the arcana."
-
-Director Purple Martin is delivering this report to a lanky, thin man
-folded into an armchair. He wears thin, wire spectacles with round
-lenses, and dangles a walking stick over the arm of the chair as he
-sits. He interrupts Martin with a rare utterance. "The reliquary. I
-shall like to see it."
-
-Now then:
-
-Retrieval Team 43 welcomes Alex into their ranks even as they mourn
-the loss of Corraidhín the Wizened.
-
-It starts off as a somber affair at Lucy's as you all sit around your
-regular table, ensconced and wedged into a corner surrounded on two
-sides by the red velvet curtains that line the walls.
-
-But then the hobbit joins you.
-
-Blavin Blandfoot orders a round of drinks in tribute to Corraidhín.
-And then another round of drinks to welcome his nephew Alex. "A
-family affair, is it not!" And then another round of drinks because
-he is thirsty.
-
-The hobbit is in high spirits, brimming with flair and good cheer.
-His arm is fully healed from the attack over a month ago at this very
-table. His fond memories and frequent toasts to the sysorcerer make
-no reference to the incident.
-
-"The Benefactor is immensely pleased with your performance so far!"
-He punches a new hole in your Frequent Retrieval cards. "You are one
-step closer to winning a FABULOUS PRIZE! I don't mind telling you I'm
-a little jealous. Assuming you go the distance, of course. I mean who
-doesn't love hot dogs and hot tubs!" He winks conspiratorially at
-you. "To say nothing of actually getting to meet the Benefactor! Just
-imagine!"
-
-After a few more drinks he eventually clears a space on the table and
-rolls out a map of Basmentaria. "We once again have two reports of a
-crystal spotting!" He jabs a finger at the mountain range in northern
-Primora. "The first, as you know, has been reported by the zephynos
-high atop Kelsun Peak." 
-
-"The second," his voice quivers with excitement. He looks up at you
-wide-eyed and gestures away from the map into open space. "Is on the
-moon!"
-
-Seated a couple tables away from you is the same trio who were
-present the last time you all met here: a dusty groll, a matted gnu,
-and a curious Ornithologer. The observant among you, if you happened
-to look, would notice that the Ornithologer wears a pinkish purplish
-red armband with the word BAND on it. They listen to your proceedings
-with great interest while trying really hard to look like they're not
-listening. After Blavin's final proclamation, the trio finishes their
-drinks, stands, and starts to leave the dining room.
-
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-
-- Do you give the second crystal to Blavin?
-- Do you choose to go to Kelsun Peak, or to the moon?
-- Who is the Lady in Red and what does she want?
-- Will Corraidhín recover in the care of Felixe?
-- Who does the Director of BATT report to and what do they want with
-  the 1st Crystal?
-- What's the deal with the Ornithologer's Trio?
-- Who left you the note signed with an iris and apple?
-
-Find out next time on BASEMENT QUEST
-
-
-[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00097.html)
-

src/epistolary/00039.md

@@ -1,212 +0,0 @@
----
-title: 00039
-created: Sat, 19 Nov 2022 07:38:02 -0700
-updated: Fri, 25 Nov 2022 07:11:12 -0700
-syndicated: yes
-public: yes
----
-### 00039 {#00039}
-
-> Alex silently observes the party and this foolish hobbit, before him
-> three untouched drinks have accumulated. He's a little less
-> enthusiatic about taking drink from strangers, too much risk in that.
-> As Blavin describes this crystal, whatever it may be, he catches a
-> glimpse of the pinkish purplish armband on the party across from
-> them. They don't look out of place given the patrons at the tavern,
-> but he's certain they were listening in on the animated conversation
-> of the hobbit. It could be nothing, or it coule be connected to
-> Corraidhin, best to put a bug on them Alex thinks.
-> 
-> Silently beneath the table and out of site Alex prepares a bug and
-> sets it off to follow the person with the armband. Once the bug
-> catches up to the part it's programmed to perform a tcpdump and
-> capture information streaming around it, and then report back to Alex
-> once full. By no means a perfect method of spying, but it's low
-> energy and can be maintained from great distances without taxing
-> Alex's energy.
-> 
-> As Blavin comes back to the group from his grandoise space commentary
-> Alex begins to question him.
-> 
-> Enough of your theatrics hobbit. Tell me about the mark, you've
-> obviously tipped off the entire tavern as to the whereabouts of
-> whatever it is you're looking for, so give us an edge, something
-> those evesdroppers a table over don't have. And cut this tripe about
-> your benefactor, who is he, and what does he want with this magical
-> baubbles.
-> 
-> As Alex finishes his questions he sits quietly for a moment staring
-> down Blavin.
-> 
-> During this outburts, as all eyes turn to Blavin for his response,
-> Alex casts yet another bug. This one sneaks onto the personage of
-> Blavin himself. Programmed the same way.
-> 
-> We'll get information from someone, subtle, or not if needed. 
-
-~
-
-> Inky watches with faint amusement as a magical device, likely a
-> probe, found its way onto their mission handler.
-> 
-> Inky might have missed the slight movement under the table if they
-> weren't waiting for it, having received word of the younger wizard's
-> penchant for pre-emptive offence magic. As it were, the offices and
-> surrounding premises were routinely swept for similar devices, a more
-> recent example of which had been placed in plain sight by an
-> overzealous tabloid writer hoping to pick up an exclusive reveal. The
-> quality of the contraption, which had immediately fallen apart when
-> detached from its gum adhesive on the back of a glass vase, had been
-> almost insulting.
-> 
-> It seems Blackfoot hadn't learned his lesson after all, and if Alex
-> was keen to give him a reminder, Inky had no objection. As Blavin
-> takes another swig from his sixth drink of the evening, the waitress
-> smiling at him with a wink as she set down their glasses before
-> skating away to take another order (Inky made sure tip her liberally
-> for the attentive service), Inky let their line of sight flicker to a
-> fuchsia-coloured band on a departing customer's arm.
-> 
-> Inky smiles internally at the sight — they can almost hear Beaker's
-> crow of dismay. The poor kingfisher had been under increased pressure
-> of late from other scientific associations and prominent speakers to
-> exclude BAND from presenting at one of the largest annual ornithology
-> conferences of the year on accusations of spreading misinformation
-> and junk science in addition to attempting to erase the history of
-> native bird tribes. There had been a huge row, which ended with the
-> BANDits storming off, yelling about "the proof being crystal clear"
-> and that they will bring "ancient arcane evidence". The Alcedinian
-> researcher had lamented the halcyon days when conferences were
-> avenues for scientific exchange, not twittering soapboxes. Not that
-> anyone who had ever tried to arrange any gathering of birds of a
-> feather really thought things simply glided along smoothly before.
-> However, the advent of dedicated carrier pigeon networks had made it
-> easier to relay research to and from smaller communities, opening the
-> pathways for their participation, including a few somewhat
-> Controversial fringe groups like BAND.
-
-Alex attempts to shake down the hobbit, who titters merrily at his
-demands.
-
-"You know nearly everything I do, dear! Your *mark* as you put it,"
-Blaven theatrically drops his voice as he looks around for
-eavesdroppers, "would be the zephynos of Kelsun Peak should you
-choose to go that route.
-
-"If you choose to go to the moon, you'll have a harder go of it," he
-frowns. He flips the map over and draws four circles in a straight
-line. They have the proportions of a grapefruit, an orange, a
-tangerine, and an orange. He jabs a finger at the grapefruit. "This
-is us, here, earth." He points at the two oranges and the tangerine.
-"And these are our planet's moons." He points to them in order.
-"Selene, the Green Lady. Moonmoon. And Lua, the Red Lady. Recently,
-as you well know, we had a super eclipse in which these four bodies
-and the sun all lined up in perfect alignment. The combined magnetic
-pull of the spheres allowed a rare commingling of the ionic spheres,
-and our instruments were able to detect the crystal somewhere out
-there in space. If I were to bet on it, I would put my money on Lua."
-He points to the farthest moon, the Red Lady, with its own tiny
-satellite, Moonmoon. He looks up at you and explains, "She's far
-enough away that her ionosphere would never make contact with ours
-except for in this particular, rare circumstance. That's why the
-crystal has escaped our detection for so long."
-
-"As for the Benefactor!" He brightens up. "He's a magnificent fellow
-as you well know! A renowned collector. His wishes are to preserve
-the crystals and protect them (and us!) from their misuse or
-mishandling! He has a hot tub!" he winks at you. "Speaking of
-crystals," he adds as an afterthought, taking another sip of his
-drink, "why don't you hand that crystal over to me and I'll deliver
-it to the Benefactor. That is what he's paying you for after all!"
-
-<!--
-Meta: Alex rolls Investigation 2 on the Ornithologer Trio
-4, 5 = Mixed Success
-//-->
-
-The Ornithologer's Trio leaves Lucy's Basement quite oblivious to
-their bug. The Ornithologer turns out to be the orator of their
-little group, ranting about the conspiracy, the attempted cover up,
-about how Big Science wants to convince you that birds are dinosaurs
-but they're just pulling the wool over your eyes. The truth is right
-there in the fossil record for crying out loud! All you have to do is
-look for yourself. Nobody these days wants to *think* is the problem.
-They just get their information from the authorities and take it as
-gospel, but they don't see that the authorities have adopted a
-narrative that suits their own ends.
-
-At which point the groll interjects and asks what is the end goal of
-Big Science, and how exactly does convincing the proletariat that
-birds are dinosaurs help achieve it?
-
-The BANDit scowls and answers, Look, you just don't get it, okay!
-
-The three split up and go their separate ways and disappear into the
-night.
-
-You learn the following, one of which is true, one of which is false,
-and one of which is meaningless.
-
-1. BAND plans to intercept the CRYSTAL of VOID and use it to petition
-the Insatiable Wyrm for definitive proof that Birds Are Not
-Dinosaurs. In this way they shall shame their fellow
-paleornithologists and earn their rightful place at the table of Big
-Science, which they have spent decades undermining.
-
-2. The Gnu Zealots intend to reverse engineer the power of the
-crystals, create a newborn godling, and then release their findings,
-thus laying the foundation of the world's first truly open source
-religion
-
-3. The trio seeks the crystals not at all, but in fact search for
-Sitopotnia, creator and progenitor of the entire amaizeon
-race---including corbits, aurs, centaurs, and others---and the only
-mortal in the history of Basmentaria to successfully take the mantle
-of creation from the overgods.
-
-<!--
-Meta: Alex rolls Investigation 2 on Blaven
-1, 3 = Things go poorly, gain 1 xp
-//-->
-
-Meanwhile, Blaven slips out into the early, early morning carrying
-his own bug. He whistles tunelessly to himself as he sails down the
-street with a wide and veering but surprisingly steady gait.
-
-Once he gets a few blocks away, his gait narrows and his step becomes
-more lively, a bit jaunty. He stands upright and ceases whistling.
-All signs of drunkenness disappear as he tugs on his sleeves and
-straightens his vest, and runs a hand through his hair.
-
-He meets a goblin catcher in the street going the other way, wearily
-making his way home after a long night's work. He wears a tiny goblin
-in a glass jar around his neck, as is the signifier of his trade. And
-he carries over his shoulder a large cloth sack, the contents of
-which writhe and kick. Looks like it was a productive night for our
-goblin catcher! Blaven gives him a little bow and a salute, laughs,
-and pats him on the back in passing, deftly transferring the bug.
-"Good night for it then ey?" he calls cheerily. The goblin catcher
-smiles politely, mumbles a nicety, and carries on.
-
-Later, hidden safely away from spying eyes and listening ears, Blaven
-sits at his desk, putting the final flourishes on a missive. He sits
-back and re-reads it to himself, lips moving silently. He nods and
-smiles, satisfied, and reaches for a stamp to sign the letter. He
-presses it into a dark red ink pad and then onto the parchment,
-leaving the image of an apple and iris. He sands the paper, carefully
-folds it, and places it in an envelope.
-
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-
-Note: Feel free to back up and play out some more conversation at
-Lucy's before Blavin leaves if you want to.
-
-Options on the table:
-
-- To the mountains!
-- To the moon!
-- Something else!
-
-[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-11/msg00103.html)
-
-

src/epistolary/00040.md

@@ -1,216 +0,0 @@
----
-title: 00040
-created: Sun, 27 Nov 2022 01:30:42 -0700
-updated: Wed, 14 Dec 2022 05:41:15 -0700
-syndicated: yes
-public: yes
----
-### 00040 {#00040}
-
-> As Blavin finished his afterthought about handing over the crystal,
-> a yelp was the only warning they heard before a young waiter was
-> suddenly half-sprawled over the hobbit, a tray of ginger beers
-> toppled from his hand and the mugs' contents splashed onto the
-> hobbit's front, though fortunately some of it ended up in a large
-> puddle on the ground rather than on Blavin's person. The waiter had
-> tripped over a bag on the floor on his way to the table two over
-> from theirs and was scrambling to his feet.
-> 
-> "By Nullar's nuts, I— OH SH——!! S-s-sorry, sir! Hold on, l-lemme
-> get— uh—" the waiter looked around frantically. The waitress who
-> had brought their drinks rushed over with some clean dry towels, a
-> few of which she handed to the other waiter, and they both
-> proceeded to wipe and dab at Blavin's damp clothes amid the hapless
-> waiter's babbled apologies. Under the cover of the towels, the
-> waitress patted down the hobbit's vest and replaced the sheaf of
-> papers she had covertly lifted from one of the vest pockets earlier
-> with a beguiling smile and wink. Once the beer on the floor had
-> been cleaned up (the despondent young waiter had offered to pay for
-> Blavin's next two rounds of drinks) and the waiters had moved on to
-> serve other customers, Inky spoke.
-> 
-> "You don't mind that we prefer to deliver it to the Benefactor
-> personally, of course," Inky piped cheerily, referring to the
-> crystal. "The late wizard thought it was prudent to cover our bases
-> since you're a new, untested case manager after all. Besides, a
-> little delayed gratification never hurt anybody, did it?" Inky
-> smiled and raised their drink. "Another toast in tribute to Master
-> Corraidhín! May his courage and buoyant spirit guide us on our next
-> mission!"
-> 
-> ~
-> 
-> When Inky stepped out of the tavern and was a few paces away,
-> someone clattered through the door and called out, "Hey! You forgot
-> your takeout!"
-> 
-> Inky turned in the direction of the voice. It was the waitress who
-> had served their table earlier. She waved a brown paper bag in one
-> hand. Inky gave her an embarrassed smile and said, "Thanks." As the
-> bag changed hands, the waitress mouthed soundlessly, *We'll report
-> any more.* She went back inside, and Inky strolled off into the
-> cool night air with the bag securely tucked away next to a tea
-> pouch and a more pressing question: what blend would go best with
-> fried tofurkey balls?
-> 
-> ~
-> 
-> *(Meanwhile)*
-> 
-> "The BANDit and his associates had gone to the tavern." His
-> assistant looked up from the scrap of paper held under a claw.
-> 
-> Beaker heaved a sigh and rubbed the tips of one wing against his
-> forehead. Surely he had better things to do than play Eye Spy over
-> a bunch of crackpots, such as peer reviewing the latest draft of a
-> paper on the development of Cerylidian hunting techniques for an
-> upcoming issue of *The Ichnition*. But Cio seemed to think
-> something may come of it and unfortunately, she was usually right
-> about troublemakers.
-> 
-> "Tell them to continue tailing from a distance," he replied with a
-> distracted wave, and his assistant left the room.
-> 
-> Anyway, if he had the spare time, he could look at more interesting
-> things, like the data he had collected surrounding the
-> disappearance of the time anomaly that had popped up a few weeks
-> ago. It had happened gradually, and he still wasn't entirely sure
-> what had caused this particular incident, but the signals picked up
-> by his instruments had later faded, just like other ones before it.
-> Still, it was comparatively larger than previous ones, and seemed
-> to have taken slightly longer to dissipate, which meant more data
-> points.
-> 
-> He stole another glance at his Dat repositories before sighing
-> again, swivelling his chair and attention back to the manuscript
-> before him. Work first … then more work.
-
-~
-
-> The party dispersed after the discussion with Blavin. Nobody had
-> wanted to relinquish the crystal to him, personally Alex felt that
-> was prudent, though he still wasn't sure what the point of it all
-> was. The foolish hobbit had blathered on and on about their "mark"
-> tactfully ignoring the real questions. And then the bug, damn it,
-> the bug that chittered on about absolutely nothing for hours. It
-> didn't take Alex too long to figure out why, but he clung to the
-> transmission until it died out hoping he'd be mistaken.
-> 
-> So there he sat, in the attic of his once Uncle, staring bleakly
-> into a cup of dark black coffee. The desk strewn with hastily
-> scratched notes pulled from the bugs feeds. At least the one that
-> had tracked that nosey group had proved somewhat helpful. Turns out
-> this little group has less friends than a drunk who's run up their
-> tab.
-> 
-> Still, there's no point to share any of this information. It's too
-> loose, not definitive enough to action with the group.
-> 
-> Alex begins to pen a message to an fellow operative, in hopes that
-> HQ will pick it up and assign someone to the task.
-> 
-> ```
-> <- OP 2817 * LOC MB-A
-> -> OP 25120 * LOC ESPER
-> 
-> CLEARANCE: SECRET
-> PACKET ENCLOSED. YOUR EYES ONLY.
-> 
-> REQUESTING DETAIL ON BLAVIN
-> EMPLOY OF "THE BENEFACTOR"
-> PERCEPTIVE, AWARE OF BUGS.
-> DO NOT CONTACT, DO NOT DISRUPT
-> EXTREME CAUTION IMPERATIVE.
-> ```
-> 
-> Once penned Alex encrypts it with GPG and sends it along. These
-> channels have worked well for him in the past. If Blavin wants to
-> play games, then games we shall have.
-> 
-> "I hate to do this" Alex mumbles to himself. "Normally I'd trail
-> him myself, but I don't think I have much say in the matter." As it
-> stands the group is dead set on gathering more of these cyrstals,
-> regardless of what the danger may be, and if Alex wants to find his
-> Uncle, they're his best bet in doing so. Blavin doesn't even matter
-> outside of that. But if he can help the group reach their end
-> faster, or force the information out of Blavin, perhaps it can come
-> sooner..
-> 
-> Alex lets out another sigh and glances wistfully around the gloomy
-> attic room. It looked just like he remembered his Uncle's office
-> looking like at the College of Sysorcerery when he had taught
-> there. He always was so particular. Pushing his chair away and
-> grabbing his coffee he wanders to the bookshelf where a large
-> steamer chest sits beside it. The bookshelf is covered in
-> manuscripts, "Practical Common Lisp", "The C Programming Language
-> Vol 2", "RHEL 5 Systems Administration", each one arcane and well
-> worn. And the amount of volumes, sometimes it's a wonder Corraidhin
-> had time to do anything other than read.
-> 
-> "Maybe if I had been a little more studious I'd know how to help
-> you.." as he pulls "A Guide to Backups and All Things Necessary"
-> off of the shelf a knife falls out of the book, and clatters onto
-> the floor glaring malevolently up at Alex.
-
-Your gondola lift finally rises above the thick layer of clouds. The
-sudden flash of clear blue sky is a revelation after ascending for
-nearly 60 minutes through clouds so thick you couldn't see through
-the foggy windows more than three feet. Above you towers rocky,
-imposing Kelsun Peak. You can just see a tiny portion of the hotel
-roof through a cleft in the rocks. Below you, a frozen turbulent
-ocean of clouds dotted with twisting leaning spires and spiraling
-branching towers, all made out of solid cloudstuff. Handiwork of the
-whimsical and industrious zephynos.
-
-You spot two or three of them now, leaping and diving playfully
-through the clouds like dolphins, spinning the clouds like yarn, and
-packing them into solid constructs. Their current project resembles a
-garden of outlandish, distorted tubas, french horns, and trombones.
-
-The small cloud dragons are about 6 - 8 feet long including their
-thick tails. They have wide faces with round lidless eyes, and always
-seem to be smiling. Their heads are topped with multiple pairs of
-filamented stalks. They have six short, stubby arms with long thin
-fingers that they use to knead and pull clouds into solid shapes.
-
-They build ceaselessly and mostly for the sake of building: they have
-no apparent need for the structures themselves, living as they do
-floating among the clouds. On occasion they have been entreated to
-build on behalf of others. And the rare floating palace or city can
-still be found drifting around Basmentaria as a result. The great
-city of Vay'Neddas---tethered to the ground by great chains to
-Primora in the north and Agendell in the south---is one of their
-greatest enduring works.
-
-You approach the gondola station at the base of Kelsun Peak, and exit
-your cable car as it slowly rounds the bullwheel. There are two
-toques---presumably meant to be operating the lifts---standing off to
-the side, ignoring their responsibilities, complaining loudly to
-nobody and everybody about being forced to work long hours and being
-unfairly compensated. The tips of their soft, conical heads slump
-forward, calling to mind revolutionaries, or smurfs.
-
-It is wicked cold as you step out onto the platform and the wind nips
-and bites at you relentlessly.
-
-At the edge of the platform, foggy white steps made of firm
-cloudstuff climb up around the side of the mountain peak to the
-Palace Runesocesius. Once the conspicuously extravagant residence of
-one of Basmentaria's most powerful politicians, it has since---after
-its owner fell from public favor and was routed out---been gutted and
-transformed into a luxury hotel of equally conspicuous extravagance.
-It continues to be one of the highest inhabitable places on
-Basmentaria.
-
-Two small toques at the base of the steps rush forward to meet
-you---the floppy tips of their coneheads waggling side to side in
-their exuberance---and introduce themselves as Confidence and Bread,
-your guides. They have been instructed to guide you up to
-Runesocesius where you will take posession of the Ginnarak Crystal.
-
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-
-[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00186.html)
-
-
-

src/epistolary/00041.md

@@ -1,93 +0,0 @@
----
-title: 00041
-created: Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:38 -0700
-updated: Wed, 14 Dec 2022 17:50:44 -0700
-syndicated: yes
-public: yes
----
-### 00041 {#00041}
-
-> Alex grips the encoded message he received in reply to his last
-> request firmly in his coat pocket. It was simple, curt, impactful.
-> "Trust no one". Which begged the question, could even it be
-> trusted? Was HQ compromised? His informants in danger? His allies
-> and leads awash in the dark grey mist of uncertainity. Or had his
-> message been intercepted, cracked, and a farsical response been
-> sent in its place. Alex wasn't certain which, but the strange
-> format and unusually speedy response had him on edge.
-> 
-> This anxiety didn't boil up to the surface, not a line of worry or
-> hint of the inner turbulence broke his cold blue eyes. Outwardly he
-> was just as composed as ever,  but between these uncertainties, the
-> loss of his uncle, and now this utterly strange dagger he'd found
-> amongst his uncle's belongings, he wasn't certain how long that
-> composure would last. It didn't held that he felt this gnawing at
-> the back of his mind, as though something was probing, attempting
-> to communicate with him, somewhere between telepathy and utter
-> magic, and not in any sense that Alex understood.
-> 
-> And here he stood, a stranger amongst amidst his uncle's allies,
-> and very little intention to change that situation at the moment.
-> 
-> As the gondola touched down and the Toques rushed to greet them
-> Alex jumped blithely off the ship and onto firm, but fluffy,
-> ground. He cast a look around him at what appeared to be an
-> ordinary port of entry, noting the crowds of people passing by. As
-> the Toques arrived Alex spoke curtly to them, "Who sends you to
-> greet us, and where do you wish to take us, and by what means do we
-> travel?". Short, cut, information only. There's too much unnerving
-> in an unknown situation like this.
-
-~
-
-> Inky greets the toques in turn politely, then turns to the second
-> toque and says, "A little bit of bread and no cheese."
-
-"Cheese?" Bread cocks their head looks at Inky with a touch of
-embarrassment. They start patting at their pockets, presumably
-looking for a morsel of cheese to share with the travelers, but
-finding none. They groan miserably. Confidence butts in
-apologetically, "There will be plenty of food at the hotel if you
-want some! Some delicious fondue perhaps? Kelsun Peak's famous liquid
-gold!"
-
-"Blavin Blandfoot arranged for us to meet you," Bread answers Alex.
-Confidence nods enthusiastically in agreement. "But I suppose
-technically the hotelier sent us." Bread points up at the sky, in the
-general direction of the summit of Kelsun Peak. "We are to escort you
-to Palace Runesocesius." They thumb over their shoulder in the
-general direction of the stairs. "By way of the cloud steps. On
-foot."
-
-Confidence leans in close and lowers their voice. "A Ginnarak
-Crystal! I can't hardly believe it! Thought they had all been lost to
-the ages. I hear it's complete dumb random luck that this one turned
-up. Story is, an aetherwael beached itself on some wide zephynos
-boulevard. Happens sometimes. Poor things can't distinguish between
-clouds and cloudstuff. I don't blame 'em! At a distance, you and me
-can't either! Anyway, this aetherwael has got a harpoon stuck in its
-side. Dratted poachers. May they all fall out of the sky and be
-dashed to a thousand pieces on the rocks below. But it had a harpoon
-in its side and was trailing behind it a float bag tethered to the
-harpoon. And you probably already guessed what was inside of it!" By
-the time Confidence finishes their brief story, they are trembling
-and nearly breathless with excitement.
-
-"Anyway," Bread interrupts their excited companion in an attempt to
-restore decorum. Both of the toques have been gently herding you
-toward the base of the stairs this whole time. "You know how the
-zephynos are. You could give them all the coin in Basmentaria, or
-something priceless like a Ginnarak Crystal, and they'd just as
-quickly misplace it out of carelessness. If it's not a cloud they can
-sculpt into the shape of seussomorph or the likeness of some fantasy
-creature, they just don't give a fig. Luckily the hotelier caught
-wind of the aetherwael and found out about the crystal before they
-managed to lose it, or bury it inside of a sculpture or something
-silly! He has it safe and sound in the library up at Runesocesius
-now." Bread climbs the first step, his foot sinking barely a
-centimeter into wispy cloud before striking the solid cloudstuff.
-"Come! The hotelier will be very excited to greet you!"
-
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-
-[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00193.html)

src/epistolary/00042.md

@@ -1,154 +0,0 @@
----
-title: 00042
-created: Sat, 17 Dec 2022 08:01:41 -0700
-updated: Sat, 17 Dec 2022 08:01:48 -0700
-syndicated: yes
-public: yes
----
-### 00042 {#00042}
-
-> This seems a bit strange. Certainly Blavin has been pulling strings
-> from behind the scenes the whole time, but why coordinate a special
-> escort for us when there are other retrieval teams, and we've been
-> less than amicable with the bloke the entire time.. Alex thinks to
-> himself.
-> 
-> *DM: I'd like to check for any signs of deceit in the toques
-> demeanor or communcations with us*
-> 
-> Confidence you said right? What would you do if I simply chose not
-> to accompany you? I mean, there's a whole city around us, perhaps
-> I'd prefer a drink before climbing a mountains worth of stairs. Or
-> better yet, I could get back on the boat and ride to the top and
-> same myself the hassle.
-
-Bread once again looks confused. Confidence looks surprised, caught
-off guard.
-
-<!--
-Alex rolls Investigation 2 to check for signs of deceit
-3 5 = Partial Success / Success at Cost
-//-->
-
-Confidence sputters, "Well, yes, of course. You've been traveling for
-some time now, haven't you? I can assure you that the food and drink
-at Runesocesius will be better than anything you can get here! But
-the choice is entirely yours. Feel free to avail yourself of the
-local offerings. We will wait here at the steps for you."
-
-Bread nods slowly, and seems to trailing behind the conversation just
-a second or two.
-
-Their reactions seem genuine to you despite the circumstances. They
-seem like a couple of low level employees of a luxury hotel earnestly
-trying to follow the instructions they've been given.
-
-There are a couple of stalls and vendors set up around the gondola
-station. Many of them serve mulled wine and hot chocolate. There is
-some edible fare. Hot sandwiches and pitas. Nothing that an empanada
-from Enrique's wouldn't put to shame. But they look hot and steamy,
-and of great comfort to anybody who might be hungry and cold. There
-are a few fire pits, next to which there are long benches with
-blankets, where you might sit and warm up for a bit.
-
-The gondola lift ends here, and does not continue up to the mountain
-any further. The cloud steps are the most common way to get up to the
-peak, and to the Runesocesius. But you're pretty sure one or two of
-the stalls here offers balloon rides up to the peak for thrill
-seekers and for those with accessibility needs.
-
-> "I think you already know I'm interested in neither bread nor
-> cheese, the second of which I certainly did not ask for yet you
-> tried to offer in your hasty pretence." Inky smiles thinly at the
-> toques.
-> 
-> Taking out a small bag of gold coins and weighing it slowly on one
-> hand to the sound of coins clinking inside the pouch, Inky
-> continues, "Speak, answer our questions frankly and you will be
-> rewarded. The hotelier up there need not know. Breathe a word of
-> our little chat to another soul, however …" Inky's gaze cut briefly
-> to four snow ravens perched atop a spiral lamp post and back, "and
-> you will learn the meaning of disappearing without a trace."
-
-Bread looks confused. You are starting to believe it is their default
-expression. "So, you *don't* want no chee---"
-
-"Our only desire is to help!" Confidence hastily interrupts. He
-smiles pleasingly. "We are your guides! Not just physically up the
-steps, but in all things here on Kelsun Peak. You have but to ask,
-and if it is within our power to give it, it will be yours! We are
-but humble ser---"
-
-And just then Confidence is also suddenly interrupted. A thundering
-boom like a canon sounds from somewhere nearby, followed quickly by
-an explosion somewhere up above. Snow ravens fly off in all
-directions in a panic. The sound ripples through the mountaintop,
-rattling the ground on which you stand. A bunch of small rocks and
-two large boulders shake loose from the mountainside. Shoppers and
-travelers shout and duck for cover as they are pelted by the scree.
-One of the large boulder bounces clear over the station and plummets
-down the side of the mountain before disappearing into the cloud
-ocean below. The second one falls straight toward the platform. A
-vendor selling wreaths and candles dives out of the way as his stall
-is crushed by the boulder. A bench is toppled over, spilling its
-blankets into the fire pit, and catches fire, quickly spreading to
-another nearby stall.
-
-Bread looks up at the sky, confused. You see a thin line of black
-smoke starting to rise up into the sky from over the ridge where the
-Runesocesius lies. Confidence shouts, and you see him pointing at the
-sea, where a balloonship is rising up out of the cloud bank, sailing
-quickly toward you and the summit of Kelsun Peak.
-
-It resembles a seafaring ship, but instead of masts and sails, it has
-two large, colorful, patchwork balloons that provide it lift. A large
-fan on a pivot at the rear of the ship provides thrust. As you watch,
-it fires a second canon---that *is* what the sound was!---nearly
-straight up, arcing up and over the peak at Palace Runesocesius.
-
-The crew of the ship bustle around on the deck of the ship, reloading
-the canons, firing the balloons, shouting, giving and following
-orders.
-
-"Cyberplasms," groans Confidence, and Bread whimpers. Alex, that
-quiet, dull, static roar that has been constantly tickling the back
-of your head ever since you found that dagger seems to rise in pitch
-and in tone. It conveys a sense of urgency, of warning. You can
-*almost* hear a desperate voice behind the static fuzz cautioning
-you, "Evil..."
-
-The only corporeal element of the crew are their cybernetic
-enhancements. A mechanical leg. A synthetic eye. A claw, a hook, a
-hand. An arm canon. Almost all of them have more than one, some as
-many as 3 or 5. The cybernetic pieces of each individual crew member
-are held together by plasmic energy arcs, crackling blue and green.
-And surrounding the bioware and the plasmic arcs of each crew member,
-like a blanket or a cocoon, is the translucent, wavering, ghostly
-form of some humanoid long-dead.
-
-The figure standing on the deck surveying the work of the rest of the
-crew---presumably the captain---has a synthetic eye rotating freely,
-360 degrees in all directions, inside its skull-like head; a bulky
-arm canon; and a thin robotic leg terminating in a thick boot.
-Plasmic blasts arc through its core, sometimes disrupting and
-glitching its ghostly body.
-
-The captain raises its arm canon and shouts to the crew. Its voice
-carried on the breeze sounds like something otherworldly rising
-slowly from the murky deep. "Fire the canon, boys! And fire up the 
-balloons! Drop the ballast! That crystal is *ours!*"
-
-It happens very quickly: the ship ascends to the summit and soon is
-firing grappling hooks at it to pull themselves in and breach the
-walls of the hotel.
-
-Bread looks at you, wide-eyed and trembling. They let loose a pitiful
-wail and turn and start running up the steps. "Bread!" Confidence
-yells after them. They cast a backward glance at you. "I've got to
-help Bread! We've got to save the hotel!" And they give chase to
-their fellow toque, bounding up the cloudstuff steps.
-
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-
-[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00203.html)
-

src/epistolary/00043.md

@@ -1,110 +0,0 @@
----
-title: 00043
-created: Mon, 19 Dec 2022 08:03:20 -0700
-updated: Mon, 19 Dec 2022 08:03:25 -0700
-syndicated: yes
-public: yes
----
-### 00043 {#00043}
-
-> Pirates?! Again?! Alex groans, unfortunately he's run into this crew
-> of dastardly mostly cybernetic punks in the past. Nasty group back
-> home, always kept the precinct busy. Not necessarily with the
-> detective work, it was always a little obvious when they showed up.
-> They have a flair for the dramatic.
-> 
-> Alex shouts to Inky & Jarrod "Come on, we need to get in one of those
-> balloons and fast!" he then darts off in the direction of the nearest
-> abandoned balloon in the market place, not looking to see if his
-> companions had followed him.
-> 
-> *internally* I know these guys have pulled off smaller heists, they
-> could just be attacking the hotel to plunder riches from its guests.
-> They don't seem the likes of a retrieval team.. Then again, that
-> Blavin fellow has multiple teams working for him, and he doesn't seem
-> all too picky about how they get the job done, it wouldn't be
-> surprising if he'd hired some brigands hoping they'd get the gems
-> faster.
-> 
-> Alex conjures up another bug, a stag beetle this time, and casts it
-> away at the pirate ship. It'll probably take some time to catch up,
-> but once it does we'll be able to keep an eye on the pirate's ship
-> and general actions, at least within line of sight of the bug.
-> 
-> As Alex reaches the balloon he grabs the ruby hilted dagger and cuts
-> the mooring lines keeping it down, and jumps into the basket
-> preparing for take off.
-
-You spot a balloon that has already been knocked half loose of its
-mooring by the pirate attack. The basket is listing to the side and
-tugging at the one remaining rope tying it down Its owner scurries
-around in circles trying to secure it.
-
-The vertical panels of the balloon are all different colors, creating
-a brilliant rainbow pattern. The large woven basket is large enough
-for maybe three people.
-
-You leap inside, swinging the ruby hilted dagger at the remaining
-mooring line. The balloon owner cries out in dismay. The basket
-shifts beneath your feet as the balloon tugs it skyward.
-
-In the burner, a small sunspoke---a minor fire elemental---is merrily
-burning away, producing a modest flame that is hot enough to lift the
-balloon slowly above the market into the sky. There is a knob valve
-on the side of the burner to allow more oxygen to flow in, thereby
-feeding the sunspoke and encouraging it to burn more intensely and
-raise the balloon higher and faster. The valve is currently only
-about one third open.
-
-A pile of blankets in one corner of the basket---and that area of the
-basket itself---is covered in blood. Somebody injured in the pirate
-attack must have temporarily climbed into the basket looking for
-cover? As you're about to look away, something large-ish (small for a
-human, large for an animal) under the blankets shifts and moves.
-
-> Inky stares after Alex's sprinting figure before shrugging and
-> stepping towards one of the stalls selling sandwiches bowled over
-> by one of the large boulders. They place some loose change on the
-> stall's wooden sign that had tipped over on the ground and pocket
-> one of the sandwiches displayed inside an open chest oven. Next,
-> they pick up several of the scented candles scattered on the ground
-> by the crash, throwing some coins in the direction of the
-> disoriented vendor before continuing at a leisurely pace up the
-> steps to the hotel, taking in the balloonship and surrounding
-> scenery. The members of their merry party arriving first can hold
-> their own as well as the fort of a hotel.
-
-You do a little leisurely shopping as the vendors and other shoppers
-put out fires and tend to the injured. With a couple scented candles
-and a sandwich safely in your pocket, you start to climb the cloud
-steps, enjoying the scenery as you go. Bread and Confidence have
-quite a bit of a head start on you, and are nowhere to be seen. As
-the stairway winds around the mountainside, the market and its bustle
-recede from view, and soon you are quite isolated and alone.
-
-The majesty of creation is humbling here: the endless, roiling ocean
-of cloud; the towering mountain of rock. It's as though this was the
-creator's playground when they were still trying to figure out scale.
-Before they quite got it right for human-sized creatures.
-
-About halfway up your climb, it starts raining sheets of paper. You
-snatch one and read it. Some heroic fantasy about slaying demons and
-facing great peril. You grab another. A bodice-ripping romance.
-Another. A gourmand's food tour of Basmentaria, eating their way from
-coast to coast. A murder mystery whodunnit. An aetherwael handler's
-guide to interplanetary travel. How to grow your own fortified
-pumpkins. On the Care and Maintenance of Fortles. The Rise and Fall
-and Rise of Palace Runesocesius. Within a minute, you have fists full
-of an entire library's worth of snippets and passages.
-
-~
-
-It looks as though Alex will approach the hotel by balloon from the
-non-pirate side. And Inky's approach by stair will deposit them at
-the hotel entrance, roughly pirate-adjacent.
-
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-
-[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00217.html)
-
-

src/epistolary/00044.md

@@ -1,52 +0,0 @@
----
-title: 00044
-created: Tue, 20 Dec 2022 08:47:08 -0700
-updated: Tue, 20 Dec 2022 08:47:11 -0700
-syndicated: yes
-public: yes
----
-### 00044 {#00044}
-
-> As Alex spots the sunspoke valve he grabs it and cranks it up to the
-> 2/3 mark. "Sorry little friend, we're going to need a little bit more
-> juice". The baloon lurches upwards as air rushes in feeding the
-> sunspoke, causing it to burn more intensely. After setting the
-> sunspoke ablaze and shouting back to the balloon's owner Alex takes
-> account of his surroundings. It's during this time he spots the
-> bloodied, moving blankets. They seem to writhe, as though something
-> beneath them is injured.
-> 
-> Gripping the dagger firmly in one hand Alex grabs the blankets from
-> the corner of the balloon basket revealing whatever lay beneath.
-
-The sunspoke stretches its little arms and wriggles its little
-fingers. It sighs happily, luxuriating in the extra fuel. It burns
-twice as bright, shooting a hot jet of bright yellow flame up into
-the parachute. The sunspoke starts to glow a molten red, and you
-start to rise faster.
-
-As you rise up over the peak, you can finally spot the Runesocesius.
-The grand hotel is draped over the top of the mountain, clinging to
-it like a dragon resting on its hoard.
-
-The "cyberplasms" as Confidence called them have docked to the side
-of a tower on the other side of the peak from you. They have shot a
-large hole in the side of the tower, and you can see them now
-starting to zipline into the building. A thick plume of black smoke
-billows out of the side of the tower, carrying pages and pages of
-loose paper into the air with it. They rain down like snow. The tower
-must house an extensive library.
-
-You cautiously pull back a corner of the bloody blankets, jeweled
-dagger raised and ready to strike. You reveal a small bloody furry
-blob. You see two big round eyes, a short-snouted face, and enormous
-pointed ears. It quickly looks away from you, chirps pathetically,
-and trembles as it cowers in place. You have found a frightened
-hemogoblin stowaway!
-
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-
-[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00219.html)
-
-
-

src/epistolary/00045.md

@@ -1,94 +0,0 @@
----
-title: 00045
-created: Tue, 20 Dec 2022 10:15:23 -0700
-updated: Thu, 22 Dec 2022 09:29:11 -0700
-syndicated: yes
-public: yes
----
-### 00045 {#00045}
-
-> As the blankets draw back from the bloody mass, a cute little
-> hemogoblin appears. "Aww little fellas just scared." Alex lowers
-> the dagger, but otherwise ignores the hemogoblin. Best to leave it
-> be for now, there's more important things.
-> 
-> As the balloon gets within range of the ship Alex begins to scan
-> the deck for Cyberplasms. At the same time he checks his bug to
-> track the location of the cyberplasms more acutely. It looks like
-> there may be an opporunity to jump from the balloon to the ship.
-> After that cutting the zip lines would give me the opporunity to
-> steal the ship, leaving the cyberplasms trapped at the top of the
-> hotel.
-
-Just a few Cyberplasms remain on the deck of the airship. The vast
-majority of them have zipped into the hotel tower.
-
-You check your bug's feed. It has gone almost entirely unnoticed in
-the fracas, and you are able to piece together a clear picture of the
-inside of the tower. It is indeed a grand library, its galleries
-spanning each floor of the tower. One of the largest collections in
-all of Basmentaria.
-
-The Cyberplasms have breached the tower near its base and are pouring
-into the Great Hall. You tune in just in time to see a rail-thin,
-bald and mustachioed man standing defensively in front of a display
-case. "No! You can't!" he exclaims as a disembodied sickle approaches
-him in a cloud of electricity and ectoplasm.
-
-Behind the glass in the display case is a bluish hunk of rock the
-size of a melon, with gently pulsing gold veins.
-
-> Inky puts away the papers they caught in passing or picked up along
-> the path up to read later, including a number that from a cursory
-> glance appear to be from a culinary collection and a few from some
-> moth-eaten but finely illustrated botanical tome, among others.
-> 
-> Eventually arriving at the hotel entrance, Inky enters and manages
-> to catch a frantic-looking attendant near the reception to ask the
-> whereabouts of the hotelier, indicating they had a business
-> appointment with said manager.
-
-You walk in through the hotel's main entrance. The grandeur would
-take your breath away were it not for the shouting and the smoke and
-the explosions coming from down the hall to your right.
-
-You wave down a passing hotel clerk and inquire after the hotelier.
-They are hauling a large bucket of hot water, and carrying an
-oversized bundle of clean towels under one arm. They pause for a
-moment to look at you incredulously before running off in the
-opposite direction.
-
-A cry rings out nearby and a Cyberplasm flies through an open door
-down the hallway. It lands in a heap of crackling energy, smears of
-ectoplasm streaking the floor as though it were bleeding heavily. It
-seems to be barely held together by the energy stored in its
-cybernetic leg and a metal skull plate.
-
-It scoots backwards on its hands and its butt, trying to stand up.
-Two toques leap out of the door after it. You recognize Bread and
-Confidence right away.
-
-Bread has obviously been to the kitchens. They are wearing tin baking
-sheets and an oversized pot on their heard as makeshift armor, and
-have a couple of dangerous looking kitchen knives hanging from their
-belt. At the moment they are swinging a large meat tenderizer over
-their head as though it were a war hammer.
-
-Confidence, meanwhile, has been to the gardener's shed. They are
-wearing a heavy leather apron and thick leather gloves, and have a
-trowel in each hand, and a large hoe or rake strapped to their back.
-
-Bread lowers their hammer on Cyberplasms head, denting the skull
-plate. And Confidence darts in and stabs with both hands at the leg.
-As soon as the prosthetics go offline and the plasmic arcs cease
-firing, there is nothing left holding the ectoplasm together and the
-ghost kind of dissipates into the air with a soft wail.
-
-They look up and notice you at the same time, relaxing their
-offensive stances. "Oh!" cries Bread. "It's you!"
-
-"You don't happen," asks Confidence, "to need a guide, do you?"
-
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-
-[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00227.html)

src/epistolary/00046.md

@@ -1,146 +0,0 @@
----
-title: 00046
-created: Thu, 22 Dec 2022 12:36:07 -0700
-updated: Thu, 22 Dec 2022 12:36:10 -0700
-syndicated: yes
-public: yes
----
-### 00046 {#00046}
-
-> Ah so I suppose those Toques were being honest then, there was a
-> Ginnarak crystal, and I guess they were going to give it to us.. oh
-> well, nothing good in life comes easy.
-> 
-> Alex cranks the dial on the sunspoke, grabs the hemogoblin from the
-> basket, and jumps out of the balloon and onto the deck of the ship.
-> He rushes over to the nearest pile of bundled rope and barrels and
-> stows his new hemo friend. "Just stay hidden little guy, let me
-> take care of these pirates first."
-> 
-> Alex grabs the dagger from his side as he makes his way towards the
-> side of the ship, first thing first, best to cut the mooring lines
-> and zip lines. The static clawing sensation appears at the back of
-> Alex's mind, but he attempts to ignore it. There's too much that
-> needs to be done too quickly, and he's all too aware of the danger
-> he's put himself in. "What would Corraidhin do.." Alex thinks to
-> himself, "perhaps a spell?".
-> 
-> ```lua
-> function target:new(obj, tbl)
->   obj = obj or {}
->   setmetatable(obj, self)
->   self.__index = self
->   self.x = 0
->   self.y = 0
->   self.speed = 0
->   reutrn obj
-> end
-> 
-> function target:yeet()
->   self.x = 100
->   self.y = 100
->   self.speed = 50
->   return self
-> end
-> ```
-> 
-> After preparing the spell Alex makes his way towards the guard rail
-> ready to cut the mooring and zip lines, spell at the ready should
-> an enemy appear. 
-
-You crank the dial to 11. The sunspoke squeals in delight and burns
-like a tiny star. You grab the hemogoblin, who chirrups and clings
-tightly to you, and leap from the balloon onto the deck of the
-airship.
-
-You think you can hear---barely audible---the sunspoke singing a song
-of homecoming as the hot air balloon continues to rise unpiloted up
-toward the sun.
-
-You rush over to cover behind a barrel, and deposit your new
-hemogoblin friend safely inside the center of a large coil of rope.
-It looks up at you quizzically, but nods when you tell it to stay
-put.
-
-You invoke the powers of the moon and prepare a quick but (hopefully)
-sufficient Spell of Yeeting.
-
-<!--
-Alex rolls Do Anything 1 to cut the lines and avoid detection
-6 = Great Success! Level Up!
-//-->
-
-When you draw the dagger, the world develops a faint static
-background noise which is easy enough to ignore at the moment given
-the state of things. You dash forward and start sawing at the thick
-mooring lines. The dagger's ruby hilt flashes in the sunlight as you
-work, and in your mind's eye you see a bright red wine, and a drop of
-blood red ink flowing from the nib of a fountain pen.
-
-You shake the images from your head just as you finish sawing through
-the rope. A Cyberplasm who was shimmying back up the rope from the
-hotel to the ship yelps as the line goes slack and swings back into
-the side of the cliff. The pirate rebounds from the impact, bounces
-off the mountainside a few times, and falls from view as it
-disappears through the clouds below.
-
-The ship drifts lazily, rising slightly, and despite your best
-sneaking around, the remaining Cyberplasms on board cannot help but
-notice that the ship is no longer tethered. You successfully hide
-behind a barrel as three cyber ghost pirates come rushing over to the
-ship railing and lean over, looking below at where there are no
-longer any ropes attaching the ship to the hotel.
-
-Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the hemogoblin toddling
-across the deck toward the Cyberplasms, no doubt curious about what
-they're looking at over the side of the ship.
-
-> "Indeed, Bread, it's me. You have not yet escaped your fate of
-> untraceable disappearance just yet." Inky deadpans, then smiles.
-> "We have much to discuss, but later. I do need a guide … to your
-> hotelier. Presumably I will find them by following the racket and
-> trail of ruined decor, but maybe you know of a quicker route?"
-
-Bread smiles at the threat of being untraceably disappeared, mostly
-confident that they are on the inside of a private little joke and
-that they are presently in no actual danger from Inky. They grip
-their hammer a little tighter nonetheless.
-
-Confidence slips their trowels into their apron. "Yes, this way!"
-
-They hurry down the hall. You know you're going the right way because
-tattered, torn, charred books litter the ground in increasing
-numbers. Bits of paper and ash fall like snow.
-
-Confidence guides you away from the entrance to the library's Great
-Hall, and takes you instead to a smaller, more discreet staff
-entrance. They open the door a crack, and as you look through you are
-just in time to see the ship captain with their cybernetic leg, arm
-canon, and eye. Now that the crew have cleared the way for them, they
-stroll across the library over piles of fallen, damaged books.
-
-A thin bald man with a neatly trimmed mustache is on the other side
-of the hall, his back turned to the pirate. He wears a fine suit and
-has just finished unlocking a glass display case. He retrieves a
-multifaceted blue and gold stone and hugs it to his chest with both
-arms. He throws a panicked glance over his shoulder at the slowly
-approaching pirate, and turns to run away. His retreat is halted by a
-small explosion at his feet. He skids to a stop and looks back at the
-pirate, who is lowering their arm canon.
-
-"The crystal," the captain demands in a voice part ghostly moan, part
-mechanical drone. "Hand it over, hotelier." It steps closer. "Mother
-has promised us new bodies if we deliver the quintessence. You won't
-be permitted to stand in our way."
-
-One pirate near the breach tucks a couple volumes of manhwa under its
-arm and climbs out onto the mooring line, returning to the ship with
-its plunder. It howls as the line suddenly goes slack, flinging the
-pirate and its comics into the mountainside, and then out into space.
-
-Sunlight pours into the library from outside as the shadow of the
-airship shifts as it starts to drift, suddenly unmoored.
-
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-
-[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00231.html)

src/epistolary/00047.md

@@ -1,116 +0,0 @@
----
-title: 00047
-created: Thu, 22 Dec 2022 16:51:54 -0700
-updated: Thu, 22 Dec 2022 16:51:59 -0700
-syndicated: yes
-public: yes
----
-### 00047 {#00047}
-
-> Damn it! I should've left the little goblin in the balloon, this
-> could get tricky..
-> 
-> Time slows for just the briefest of moments while Alex calculates
-> his next move. Looking at the position of the pirates he can
-> probably yeet the middlemost one away from the group into the left
-> most pirate. Best case this sends both of them sailing over the
-> edge of the ship, worst case it just slightly knocks them off
-> balance. In either event this gives me enough time to dart from
-> cover and quickly dispatch the right most pirate with Uncle's
-> dagger. I've got to sever each connection point between the
-> ecotplasm and the cybernetics, nothing quite as quick and easy as
-> flesh and blood, but a quick slice to the left most armpit, and
-> another to the right most leg right above the carotid artery should
-> do it..
-> 
-> Jumping immediately to action Alex casts `yeet.middle_cyberplasm()`
-> sending the middle  pirate into the left most pirate away from the
-> hemogoblin while he dashes forward to take the third right most
-> pirate by surprise. As he reaches the right most pirate he makes
-> two quick slices, first at the leg, followed by a quick upper cut
-> to the left arm.
-
-<!--
-Alex rolls Do Anything 1 to yeet the cyberplasm
-3 = Things go poorly. Gain 1 xp.
-Spend 1 xp to pass and gain Sysorcery 2
-//-->
-
-You channel some of the ambient environmental charge into your
-prepared incantation. It's comforting sometimes to peer behind the
-veil and see the world through this lens. It's so simple. The
-separation of self and other is an illusion: everything is just a
-table. The concept of time itself is simplified: coroutines prevent
-everything from happening all at once and create the illusion of
-concurrency. It's all really quite elegant.
-
-Anyway so the hemogoblin sidles up next to the pirates at the
-railing. It's not tall enough to see over the railing, and starts to
-kind of jump up and down, trying to catch a glimpse. The pirates look
-down at it in confusion just as the `yeet` happens, and they knock
-into each other. The leftmost one almost manages to regain its
-balance but then trips over the little blood gremlin and pitches over
-the railing. The middle pirate yelps as the startled hemogoblin darts
-between its legs to get out of the way. The pirate stumbles and then
-slips in a small puddle of blood. Its feet shoot from beneath it and
-it too tips over the railing.
-
-<!--
-Alex rolls Do Anything 1 to sever connections
-1 = Things go poorly. Gain 1 xp.
-Spend 1 xp to pass and gain Stabbing 2
-//-->
-
-The hemogoblin dashes right into the waiting arms of the rightmost
-Cyberplasm. "Gotcha, you little ... ugh! What ..." The pirate is
-starting to regret snatching up the little furball, which is
-defensively gushing blood all over it, when you make your first slice
-into its left armpit. Half its cybernetics go offline. One arm goes
-limp and it drops the hemogoblin, which scurries around and hides
-behind you. The pirate turns toward you, now full of regrets, and you
-stab into its right leg, knocking its tech completely offline and
-dispersing the ghostly energies.
-
-As far as you can tell, the ship is now free of Cyberplasms.
-
-The hemogoblin thrusts its tiny fists in the air and cheers.
-
-> Inky shakes out several large and very fine kerchiefs, handing two
-> each to the guides and gestures for them to cover their noses and
-> mouths with them while they perform the action themselves to
-> demonstrate.
-> 
-> Donning a pair of skydiving goggles snatched from one of the souvenir
-> stalls at the gondola station while no one was looking (replacing it
-> with its approximate weight in silver coins), Inky retrieves a black
-> metal box that previously served as a portable camp stove from their
-> knapsack and removes the lid. The inside of the box is filled with
-> dry wood chips mixed with a pine green powder, and Inky throws in the
-> wicks pulled from some of the scented candles that were pushed into a
-> heater flask to melt fully during the walk up the hotel steps.
-> Finally, Inky pours another vial of foul-smelling liquid over the
-> contents, opens the door just wide enough to slide the metal box
-> through to one side of the door a few paces away.
-> 
-> A mildly sweet, cloying smoke emanates from the flameless heat inside
-> the box, which begin to fill the library hall with a rapidly
-> thickening cloud. It is also taking on an acrid and slightly sooty
-> edge. Near the door, Inky fans more of the smoke in the direction of
-> the cyberplasmic apparition with a thin bound manuscript laying on
-> the floor.
-
-Bread, Confidence, and you all don protective gear. You push the camp
-stove through the door like an Olympic curler. It glides across the
-library floor a respectable distance considering the book debris and
-the lack of sweepers. Much more quickly than one would think
-possible, the hall is filled with a thick, sooty smoke. The
-Cyberplasm captain groans with frustration as even the short distance
-between it and the hotelier (and the crystal) becomes occluded in the
-smoke screen. The hotelier wisely doesn't make a sound as he
-disappears from view.
-
-Bread nudges you, grins, and gives you a thumbs up.
-
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-
-[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00234.html)

src/epistolary/00048.md

@@ -1,246 +0,0 @@
----
-title: 00048
-created: Wed, 28 Dec 2022 16:08:10 -0700
-updated: Wed, 28 Dec 2022 16:08:12 -0700
-syndicated: yes
-public: yes
----
-### 00048 {#00048}
-
-> Alex snatches up his new hemo friend cheering huzzah as he does.
-> We've got a pirate ship little guy!
-> 
-> Rushing about the deck Alex quickly takes stock of what's left,
-> plenty of ammo, general supplies, fuel, perfectly provisioned for a
-> quick crystal kidnapping. Smart move pirates, but not smart enough.
-> 
-> Alex heads to the helm and steadies the ship guiding it out and
-> away from the library, can't have any of the remaining cyberplasms
-> easily reboarding it now can we? Once the ship is out of range Alex
-> checks his S.T.A.G drone's twtxt feed for updates.
-> 
-> ```
-> @<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Cyberplasm approaching crystal
-> @<drone/fhsoa7483/gps> approx library, top level
-> @<drone/fhsoa7483/audio> Cyberplasm threatens violence
-> @<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Inky, bread, confidence enter subvertly
-> @<drone/fhsoa7483/video> Visual feed impaired due to unknown smog
-> @<drone/fhsoa7483/audio> Angry tones, uncertain who
-> ```
-> 
-> Not particularly helpful, and it rules out my first thought. I
-> could blindly fire the broadside canons into the library hoping to
-> hit the cyberplasm, but I'd be just as likely to hit Inky, Bread,
-> Confidence or any other innocent bystander. I've got to get a
-> message to her.
-> 
-> Alex quickly dispatches a command to the S.T.A.G
-> 
-> ```
-> @<drone/fhsoa7483/cmd> Seek Inky
-> @<drone/fhsoa7483/relay> Secured ship, inform A.I of intentions, will coordinate rescue via the stolen ship
-> ```
-> 
-> If all we've got is this, then we'd best be ready for a quick
-> rescue. Alex busies himself preparing a new zipline and mooring
-> lines. He then loads the boradside canons and the top deck swivel
-> canons. It'll need to be quick, but if I'm ready I can swing the
-> ship in close, deploy a zipline for Inky to zip down to the ship
-> with, and defend the retreat with the swivels. If everyone retreats
-> to the ship we can take a note from the pirates playbook and blast
-> them to hell with the broadsides while we make our retreat. Or
-> simply run I suppose, but I dislike the idea of leaving innocent
-> people to deal with angry pirates 
-
-The hemogoblin cheers you on as you take possession of the airship,
-accidentally squirting a few jets of rust colored blood in its
-excitement. Must still be quite young. They don't gain full control
-of their blood sacs until well into adulthood.
-
-You check your S.T.A.G. drone's twtxt feeds. This A.I. seems
-especially reliable, you note with satisfaction. Its updates are
-regular and detailed. Even when there's not much to report.
-
-You load up the canons and take control of the helm. The hemogoblin
-stands at attention at the broadside canons with a cracklesparkler,
-ready to light the fuse at your command. You steer the ship a short
-distance away from the hotel, hopefully out of reach of the
-cyberplasms. But within range of your own canons and ziplines.
-
-> While Inky has the attention of both guides, they close the door
-> again until it is slightly ajar, and make a series of hand
-> gestures. First pointing at themselves, at their own forearm and
-> fist held stiffly to mimic the shape of the captain's arm cannon,
-> to indicate that Inky will handle the Cyberplasm. Then Inky points
-> the two fingers of a hand at Bread and Confidence, turns the two
-> fingers downward and swings them back and forth in opposite
-> directions to convey walking. This was followed by a single finger
-> pointing in the general direction they had last seen the hotelier;
-> then the finger hooks inward, the arm repeating a yanking motion
-> once or twice before ending the gesture with a thumb tossed over
-> their shoulder towards the hallway away from the staff entrance, to
-> ask them to get their boss out of the library to a safe spot.
-> 
-> Without waiting for confirmation from the toques, Inky opens the
-> door, abruptly stops, turns and shoves a compostable bag of
-> mango-flavoured croutons at Bread, gives them a thumbs up in return
-> and a mildly disturbing, eye-crinkling smile behind their kerchief,
-> before slipping inside the smoky room. One hand is already pulling
-> out a thin, extendable metal walking pole with a carrying strap
-> visually resembling the type used by hikers from their courier bag
-> to check for obstacles amid the lowered visibility.
-
-Confidence watches all of your hand gestures closely, and then nods
-resolutely. They draw their large hoe, and turn and start to crouch
-run toward the main entrance to to the main hall of the library.
-
-Bread looks confused, but ready to follow Confidence. They grab their
-heavy meat tenderizer and crouch down in imitation of their fellow
-toque. Before they can run off, you shove a bag of croutons into
-their arms. "Small. Toasted. Bread," they intonate slowly in wonder.
-The confusion falls from their face as they break into a wide grin.
-"Now I'll never disappear without a trace," they laugh. They thank
-you and run like a duck after Confidence.
-
-> Inside, Inky lobs the empty glass vial that had held the
-> unpleasantly pungent organic catalyst at a spot the floor several
-> paces roughly from where the Cyberplasm — presumably the leader of
-> the group — had been standing earlier, in the opposite direction of
-> the staff entrance in an attempt to divert attention from the
-> hotelier's last location. As they edge along the wall towards the
-> tower stairs, walking pole looped over one hand, Inky grabs a few
-> small hardcover novellas from a wall shelf. Straightening from
-> their crouch, Inky tosses them one at a time horizontally in quick
-> succession like a discus, but without the full-body turning motion,
-> across the hall towards the sounds of frustrated groans and angry
-> muttering. The first starting higher around where a human head
-> might have once been, one at waist height and another at the
-> juncture below where ectoplasmic knees might meet prosthetic legs. 
-
-You pick up three hardback novellas. If it wasn't so smoky, and if
-you weren't so much in the middle of a potentially life and death
-struggle with the Cyberplasm captain of a pirate airship, you might
-notice their titles: *Stop and Smell the Crystals*, *Living the
-Corn*, and *A Big Moon*.
-
-<!--
-NOTE: book titles generated by https://booktitlegenerator.com/
-//-->
-
-Anyway, you start flinging.
-
-<!--
-Inky rolls Do Anything 1 to sever cyber eye
-1: Things go poorly; gain 1 xp
-Spend xp to level up, Throwing 2
-//-->
-
-After you toss the catalyst, you can see a plasmic form heavily
-blurred and obscured by the smoke turn in that direction. You fling
-*Stop and Smell the Crystals* at it, and it spins like a discus and
-smashes into the pirate right in the face, above the chin. It howls
-and brings its hand to its face, and turns and charges up its arm
-cannon.
-
-<!--
-Inky rolls Do Anything 1 to sever arm canon
-5 (2): Success at cost
-//-->
-
-Mostly going on sound now, you fling *Living the Corn* at the
-pirate's moan and at the electric whine of the canon charging. You
-hear the canon discharge but the half-blind pirate fires wide. You
-see the flash of the energy blast hitting something, someone, else
-obscured by smoke in the middle distance between the two of you. A
-man screams out in pain. Right after the muffled thump of his body
-hitting the ground, you hear the clinking and ringing of something
-heavy and metallic striking and rolling across the floor.
-
-*Living on Corn* strikes the pirate in the elbow, and with a fizzle
-and a spark, the arm cannon sputters offline.
-
-<!--
-Inky rolls Do Anything 1 to sever cyber leg
-6 4: Great Success!
-//-->
-
-The pirate stumbles forward, half-lame and half-blind. It stoops and
-scoops up a heavy melon-sized object. It stomps its cybernetic boot,
-and small rockets spring out from small compartments on either side
-of its ankle. They start to fire up and the pirate is about to make
-its escape when *A Big Moon* hits it right above knee and severs the
-ghost's final connection to its final enhancement.
-
-It groans as it starts to dissipate, dropping the heavy object once
-more.
-
-"My crew, it is too late for me! I shall never have a new body now!
-But it's not too late for you! You must bring the quintessence to
-Mother!"
-
-And then the pirate's essence is diluted in the smoke filling the
-library.
-
-> At that moment Inky hears a very low whirring accompanied by
-> clicking sounds behind them and without glancing backwards, swings
-> the walking pole at the source of the buzzing. The stick collides
-> with something, sending it careening backwards with a light clatter
-> through what is likely a row of bookshelves around the area already
-> partially emptied of their contents. From the static noise that
-> ensues, Inky realises whatever it was may or may not have been one
-> of the wizard's bugs hovering in the shadows earlier or a
-> disembodied, ectoplasm-spewing prosthetic limb after all. Inky
-> calls out sheepishly, "Sorry, Young Master Alex! Was that yours?
-> Oops? Haha?" before smashing two more empty glass bottles as a
-> distraction for any remaining Cyberplasms lurking on the same
-> floor, and sprints up the tower stairs, using the banisters as a
-> guide.
-
-The Amber Imp is feverishly reporting all the goings on from inside
-the S.T.A.G. drone when Inky strikes its conveyance with their
-walking pole. The bug is destroyed on contact. The imp barely manages
-to fire off one final End Of Transmission post before ejecting from
-the craft, which sinks below like an exploded firework. It drifts on
-the currents of smoke and flows out through the hole in the wall into
-the open air outside. The imp falls through open space and starts to
-think back on its life. So much time and energy spent chasing its
-hopes and dreams, its goals and aspirations. So much of its life
-wasted in pursuit. Always reaching, never grasping. Is that all it
-gets? Is this the end? Did it ever really even get a chance to really
-live?
-
-These thoughts race through its head as it falls, but are cut short
-when it abruptly lands on a hard bed of cloudstuff. It tumbles and
-rolls and comes to a stop. And when it looks up, amazed to be alive
-and vowing to make the most of this second chance at life, it looks
-up into the benevolent smiling face of a pink zephynos.
-
-~
-
-Inky, you cross the floor to where the pirate had its last stand. You
-find what appears to be approximately one-fifth of the hotelier, and
-wonder idly where the rest of him might be. And you notice a
-conspicuous lack of Ginnarak Crystal.
-
-You do however notice a soft crunch underfoot. And when you bend down
-to inspect it---disorganized cyberplasms running amok in the smoke
-behind you---you discover a trail of mango flavored croutons leading
-across the hall to the tower stairs.
-
-You sprint up the stairs using the banisters as a guide. The
-breadcrumb trail ends on the seventh level, where Confidence sits
-slumped against the wall between two bookshelves. They have one arm
-around four-fifths of the hotelier, his shocked gaze telling you
-everything you need to know, that he is entirely dead but just
-doesn't know it yet. Their other arm is around Bread, who has
-suffered a massive wound to the chest and is only slightly more alive
-than the hotelier. On the ground between Confidence's legs is the
-Ginnarak Crystal. Several loose pages are stuck to its sides, held in
-place by drying blood and ectoplasm.
-
-Confidence looks at you and smiles wearily. "We left a trail for you.
-It was Bread's idea. They were a good guide."
-
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-
-[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00250.html)

src/epistolary/00049.md

@@ -1,156 +0,0 @@
----
-title: 00049
-created: Thu, 29 Dec 2022 18:55:34 -0700
-updated: Fri, 30 Dec 2022 08:12:55 -0700
-syndicated: yes
-public: yes
----
-### 00049 {#00049}
-
-> "They *are* a good guide," Inky corrects adamantly. "Do you hear
-> that, Bread? You're not allowed to disappear until you've had an
-> entire bag of these croutons, and even then you're still not
-> allowed. If I'd known you'd never had croutons before I wouldn't
-> have let you walk a step further into that hall. That was
-> simultaneously the worst and best idea ever. Mango! Croutons! What
-> a travesty. Did you even taste any of it? No? You have to! How can
-> you offer guests delicious fondue without croutons? Speaking of
-> which, we haven't gotten that fondue you promised yet, that's
-> reason #144 you can't disappear. What's reason #143? Crostinis.
-> Small toasted bread. Slice of life. You can put cheese on it too,
-> if you really must …"
-> 
-> And so on. While Inky talks at Bread in a bid to keep them
-> conscious, they whisk out a first-aid kit from their courier bag
-> and kneeling on the floor, proceeds to stem the bleeding from the
-> chest wound with coagulant-coated bandages. Slowly, they tip a
-> flask of tea infused with some restorative herbs down Bread's open
-> mouth, careful not to pour too quickly. Inky pauses mid-diatribe
-> and mid-pour to thrust another flask of tea into Confidence's hand,
-> the one wrapped four-fifths of the hotelier and ask, "Are you
-> injured? Please keep an eye on your companion, I will summon for
-> assistance."
-> 
-> Standing up, Inky walks to a window, opens it and peers out. They
-> look around for a hot air balloon and notice the unmoored airship.
-> After squinting at it with a mini-spyglass, they see Alex standing
-> at the helm of the ship with a young hemogoblin on board. Inky
-> waves, and makes a vertical cross sign with a fist and thumb on the
-> opposite upper arm a few times. Next, they pull out a small tin
-> whistle, and toot a few sharp notes in the same cadence as the
-> one-liner directed at Bread earlier by the gondola station. After a
-> moment, a scops owl swoops in to land on the windowsill. Inky
-> inserts a rolled piece of paper into a small pouch hanging at the
-> bird's back, and the bird flies off again.
-> 
-> Returning to the figures slumped against the wall, Inky places the
-> Ginnarak crystal in a lightly padded cloth bag, stowing it away in
-> their knapsack-style backpack. They resume checking and tending to
-> the toques' injuries, while expounding upon various permutations of
-> toasted bread to a captive audience.
-
-Bread closes their eyes and smiles dreamily at the descriptions of
-various breads. They weakly sip the tea as you tip it into their
-mouth and swallow with effort.
-
-<!--
-Inky rolls Do Anything 1 to stabilize Bread
-2 = Things go poorly
-Spend 1 remaining xp to advance = Success + gain Medicine 2
-//-->
-
-They sigh and open their eyes. They focus on you and maintain eye
-contact as you draw from a seemingly bottomless well of knowledge on
-the topic of toasted breads. Bread and life are clinging fast to each
-other, neither ready or willing to let go of the other. They are
-going to be okay.
-
-Confidence's wounds are superficial. They are winded from dragging
-Bread and the hotelier up seven flights of stairs. But they are fine.
-
-The hotelier's wounds are sadly quite fatal. Honestly it was all over
-for him the moment he took the full force of the captain's plasma
-canon to his chest. He babbles, "It's not ... I wasn't ..." And then
-with sudden realization and quiet resignation, a clear-eyed, "Oh."
-And then he is gone.
-
-His courage in the face of danger is the reason you now have the
-third of the five Ginnarak Crystals in your pack. Whether or not his
-death was in vain is now largely up to you and what you decide to do
-with the crystal.
-
-~
-
-Downstairs in the Great Hall of the library, one of the remaining
-Cyberplasms crouches down next to the inert cybernetic eye that until
-very recently belonged to their captain. They pick it up and turn it
-over in their hand. "Worry not, my captain," the ghost mourns. "We
-will find the quintessence. And once we do, we will be made anew in
-the forge of our Mother."
-
-He rolls the orb in palm of his hand. A faint arc of energy crackles
-across its surface. And the eye rolls over of its own volition and
-looks up at the pirate.
-
-Suddenly reverent, the pirate gently places the eye on the ground as
-a ghostly face begins to form around it. The pirate waits patiently,
-attentively. It's not every day one gets to bare witness to a new
-birth. The ectoplasm that gathers around the eye forms a rail-thin
-body. Its head is bald and its face sports a neatly trimmed mustache.
-It is missing an arm and a leg.
-
-Dutifully, the witness fetches a recently discarded arm canon and leg
-booster. The exotica tap into the energy provided by a new crossing
-over, and come online, and create a new mesh.
-
-The hotelier stands and looks down at its new body. As it were. It
-looks around at its surroundings. It picks up a few books and starts
-shelving them.
-
-The pirate, mostly wishing to provide companionship and comfort to
-the new ghost, assists with tidying up.
-
-~
-
-Alex, you are at the helm of the balloon-ship. As you start to drift
-slightly up and away, the blue dome of the hotel comes into view. On
-its peak you can see a life-sized statue of a stern-faced
-Runesocesius wielding a spear, drawn back as though ready to hurl an
-angry thunderbolt down at the world below.
-
-The hemogoblin is still down on the deck by the canons. You see it
-waving cheerily at the library tower. You squint in that direction,
-but can't see what has caught its attention.
-
-A small tufted-ear owl silently lands next to you breaking you from
-your reverie. The owl is wearing a small harness with a pouch at the
-back. Inside the pouch is a rolled piece of paper signed by Inky, up
-on the seventh floor of the tower.
-
-You count seven windows up the side of the tower from its base. There
-seems to be some movement inside, but you can't make much out from
-here. With a lucky shot, you think you might be able to hook the
-window frame with a zipline.
-
-~
-
-Outside, a pink zephynos is spinning raw cloud into a minuscule opera
-house and performing arts center under the direction of an amber imp
-with a new hunger for life. It is an organic looking structure: a
-primary concert hall, surrounded by a number of smaller stages and
-performance areas spiraling out from the center like a nautilus
-shell.
-
-The imp smiles happily, proudly. What tales will be told here! What
-songs will be sung! "Lorehold," it whispers to itself. "You will tell
-the world's stories."
-
-It is already trying out lines in its head, imagining the play it
-will write of this day. About the hotel and the library and the
-pirates and the cloud dragons. About a pair of adventurers. And a
-very brave and lucky drone pilot that dared to chase its dreams.
-
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-
-[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00252.html)
-

src/epistolary/00050.md

@@ -1,63 +0,0 @@
----
-title: 00050
-created: Sat, 31 Dec 2022 10:33:06 -0700
-updated: Sat, 31 Dec 2022 10:33:07 -0700
-syndicated: yes
-public: yes
----
-### 00050 {#00050}
-
-> Meta: I look forward to reading the A.I.'s play once it's written,
-> we should go back and write the sequence of events for this segment
-> from their perspective in play form at some point. 
-> 
-> Alex gingerly takes the note from the owl and reads it quickly. "I
-> guess my S.T.A.G. got to Inky after all." Eyeing the tower and
-> cutting up the windows, it looks like maybe I'd get a shot in from
-> the zip line. But it's iffy.
-> 
-> Alex grabs the wheel and guides the balloonship slowly up a few
-> levels. From that vantage point it should only be 3-4 levels
-> between the ship and I. 
-> 
-> After getting the ship in place he grabs a zip line canon and
-> launches it at one of the windows on the 7th floor, sinking the
-> anchor firmly beneath the window. 
-> 
-> Now to signal Inky... Alex rummages around the ship, finding both a
-> signal flare gun and flares in the cargo hold, at least the pirates
-> were prepared for the worst. Taking aim away from the Balloon
-> Sails, Alex fires the flare up into the air creating a dazingly and
-> bright signal in the sky.
-
-You fire the zipline and the hemogoblin cheers adorably. The spear
-pierces the stone right beneath the 7th floor window, and the hooks
-extend and foam, cementing the line in place.
-
-In a locker on the side of the ship you find a few signal flares. You
-point them away from the balloons and fire into the sky. The flares
-explode brilliantly and hang dazzling in the sky before slowly
-drifting downward.
-
-A pair of zephynos swim over, attracted by the brilliant sparkling
-lights. They excitedly bat at the air with their hands and turn
-somersaults. They pull at some clouds and squeeze them into dozens of
-abstract forms inspired by the bursts. They toss them back and forth
-playfully and soon the boulders are drifting around listlessly
-overhead.
-
-Below, almost all of the Cyberplasms have noticed by now that their
-ship has been stolen. Several crowd into the hole in the wall and
-shout and shake their fists at you.
-
-You hear a low chirrup behind you and turn to see the hemogoblin
-standing in the middle of the deck. Somehow in all the commotion it
-has managed to get its tiny little hands on the ruby-hilted dagger.
-It grips the hilt tightly in both hands and gazes in wide-eyed wonder
-at the gem, utterly captivated, back turned to the fireworks. The
-hemogoblin and the blade are absolutely dripping with rivers of
-blood. A decent sized pool has already formed at its feet.
-
-WHAT DO YOU DO
-
-[www](https://framalistes.org/sympa/arc/tildepals/2022-12/msg00257.html)

src/epistolary/00074.md

@@ -0,0 +1,83 @@
+---
+title: 00074
+created: Tue, 21 Mar 2023 21:11:46 -0600
+updated: Tue, 21 Mar 2023 21:11:46 -0600
+public: yes
+syndicated: yes
+---
+
+### 00074 {#00074}
+
+Blavin's vouchers enable you to far exceed your modest budget for
+retrofitting the cyberplasm balloonship for space travel.
+
+Not only were you able to get a portable atmosphere and a starhelm
+from the ever resourceful Wandering Bazaar. But you were also able to
+mount a ballista on a turret in the center of the main deck so you
+can fire large bolts in nearly any direction. And even a mangonel on
+the top deck: a long range trebuchet that takes more time to load,
+aim, and fire; but which does considerably more damage than the
+shorter-range ballista.
+
+Above the Milk Market, a crew of Alex's agents get the ship ready for
+departure. They have stoked the burners, and the resident sunspoke
+has happily filled the balloons with enough lift for the ship to
+start to pull and strain at its tethers.
+
+You cut the rope loose, and Vay'Nullar falls away beneath you as the
+ship rises into the sky.
+
+When the air becomes thinner and the sunspoke begins to sputter
+somewhat, you switch off the burner move the sunspoke into a cold
+locker in the galley to induce hibernation so that it doesn't
+accidentally burn through your limited reserve of oxygen.
+
+You activate the portable atmosphere, a small block of newtonian
+covered with arcane runes and affixed to the cargo hold. Newtonian is
+an alchemical substance made of pure density. There are entire
+volumes in Nullar's cosmic library devoted to the timelines that met
+an abrupt, violent end upon the discovery of the substance. Luckily,
+the alchemists of Basmentaria in your timeline were able to stabilize
+the element before all of creation collapsed into a singularity. And
+now it is commonplace for runewardens to attune small pieces of the
+stuff to spacefaring ships so that each ship is able to sustain its
+own unique gravity plane. In this way, each ship retains an amount of
+breathable atmosphere relative to its size; and starsailors are able
+to confidently walk along the top (and bottom!) of their craft.
+
+Next you head to the starhelm.
+
+Even when it comes to magic, there are certain principles that tend
+to hold true. One such princple---when it comes to starsailing, at
+least---is the conservation of energy. There are lots of different
+kinds of starhelms. But they all consume *something* in order to
+propel your ship across the stars.
+
+However endless the treasures of the Wandering Bazaar may seem,
+starhelms remain quite rare. You consider yourself lucky to find the
+one that you did. It could have been a costly Forgehelm, requiring
+constant fuel in the form of precious stones and powerful artifacts.
+Or an even more costly Bloodhelm, slowly siphoning away your life
+essence.
+
+Yes, all things considered you could have done much worse than the
+Emotionhelm that you purchased. All that it requires of you to keep
+the ship on course is that you scream, rant and rave, and bawl and
+cry at it periodically.
+
+You imagine it ought to be quite therapeutic, actually.
+
+Portable atmosphere activated, and having fed the starhelm a bit of
+melancholia, the ship finally exits the planet's atmosphere. Your crew
+takes down the balloons once they start to deflate and stores them in
+the cargo hold. And you set sail for Lua, the Red Lady.
+
+In the distance, you see a pod of gargantuan aetherwaels drifting
+through the void. Nearby, you see a small school of space guppies
+swim by and then quickly scatter as a space gull dives at them and
+tries to scoop up a quick meal.
+
+You have a couple day's of travel ahead of you, and the very
+non-empty void of space on all sides of you.
+
+WHAT DO YOU DO?

src/epistolary/00075.md

@@ -0,0 +1,162 @@
+---
+title: 00075
+created: Mon, 27 Mar 2023 09:24:13 -0600
+updated: Mon, 27 Mar 2023 09:24:14 -0600
+public: yes
+syndicated: yes
+---
+
+### 00075 {#00075}
+
+> White blooms look on as Inky turns another page in the book they
+> are reading, a purported bestseller luridly titled *The Secret
+> Lives of Plants*. The olericulture guide before it had been more
+> appealing, but it was something to do between meals and napping
+> with an eye mask while holed up in the green room. 
+> 
+> While Confidence had been taking stock of provisions one night days
+> before the ship's departure, Inky had dropped in and not so
+> covertly taken over a room with a higher ceiling near the cargo
+> hold, beside an escape hatch. They brought in some grow lights the
+> following evening and asked Confidence to help install them
+> overhead after explaining their plan. Next, they loaded in some
+> dwarf conifers and star magnolias in wheeled containers with weight
+> compression. A nutrient solution pump connected to a timer and long
+> hoses periodically watered and fed the trees. Near the door was an
+> air filter, another useful item from the Wandering Bazaar. It
+> monitored air quality and composition, and could extract various
+> common gases from multiple inputs and pipe them to attached storage
+> tanks. There were two tanks outside the room that were hooked up to
+> the filter: a smaller one for excess carbon dioxide drawn from the
+> atmosphere that can be released slowly in tiny concentrations back
+> into the green room for the trees to absorb (or injected into water
+> with a carbonator for fizzy drinks), and a larger one for extra
+> oxygen produced by the trees and held in reserve. There was also
+> another tank and an unused combinator on board to recombine
+> hydrogen and oxygen.
+> 
+> When the rest of the crew take turns to sleep or patrol the rest of
+> the ship, Inky steps within hearing distance of the starhelm and
+> activates the energy barrier around it. The barrier also blocks off
+> sounds to maximise the energy directed at the helm.
+> 
+> Standing back against a low wall enclosure, Inky begins to play on
+> their violetti, channelling emotions through the lilting notes. The
+> instrument itself was a bespoke affair, an early Yule indulgence
+> years ago, and Inky had conferred at length with the luthier on
+> their requirements and core design. In appearance it closely
+> resembles a smaller, lighter violin while being an octave higher
+> than most violins, making it a great accompaniment to a flute or
+> piccolo in birdsong. However, instead of a mechanical nightingale
+> solo, they feed the helm a selection of nursery ditties — falling
+> bridges, black sheep, blind mice and the like. Sliding a few bars
+> of Bubbytabbies at intervals for best measure. Nya nya.
+
+~
+
+> Alex didn't mind the travel, in fact, he enjoyed the cramped
+> confines of his quarters. The limited world of their space ship a
+> bubble, something he could control, and protect from the chaos that
+> surrounded him. It was no different than the sailing he did planet
+> side, something he had been fond of and his uncle had chided him
+> for being so passionate about. Corraidhin would always titter on
+> about Alex's studies, and then he'd sneak off and sail out under
+> the stars with Marvelo, and his uncle wouldn't see hide or hair of
+> him for a handful of nights.
+> 
+> "If only you could see me now Uncle" Alex muttered as he sat behind
+> a large leather bound chair in front of a large ornate desk strewn
+> with star charts, and books on everything ranging from divination,
+> to history, navigation, to munition manufacturing. Some of the
+> titles were unsurprising "Starhelms & You: A Guide to Starhelm
+> maintenance", "The Big Bang: Everything Delightful About
+> Explosives", but others were peculiar for Alex "Palmistry for
+> Dummies", "Superstitions DO Exist, and you're NOT Paranoid!",
+> "Ancient Gods and Goddess of Basementaria".
+> 
+> Alex pushed the books, and loose notes, and maps away from him and
+> placed his cup of coffee in their place. Cold, again. He stared into
+> the dark depths of his favored drink, forlorn. He sighed, and made
+> a gesture, and a small stag drone dislodged itself from amongst the
+> papers and books and latched itself onto the coffee mug, warming
+> it. "Thanks again" Alex muttered "What is this? Sixth time this
+> cup?" he shook his head. He couldn't focus.
+> 
+> Since they started this trip he'd spent more and more time brooding
+> over these books he'd collected before their departure, barely
+> saying a word to Marv or the others even. The only one he seemed to
+> communicate with on any sort of cadence was Inky. They never forgot
+> to bring a cup of warming tea, floral and fruit notes, to stave off
+> scurvy they'd said.
+> 
+> "That does it!" Alex said to the room at large as he stands, and
+> strides to the door of the cabin. He strides out into the star
+> light, noting the crew has taken note of his sudden appearance. "At
+> Ease!" he barks, and marches up to the starhelm and sits before it.
+> 
+> The explitives come swift and fast. If it weren't for the emotion
+> reflector the crew and everyone in the galaxy would think rather
+> poorly of Alex, but it felt good. "Neddas you son of a bitch, you
+> and your cursed crystals, and all these snakes slithering around
+> waiting to strike! Light burn each and every one of them!" and once
+> Alex had let his anger burn, the tears came, strong and
+> unrelenting. "I don't know what to do uncle, you're within grasp,
+> but I don't know how to help, or where to go." and so it went, Alex
+> wept until there were no more tears to weep, and the letter Inky
+> had relayed from his uncle bore an unmistakable tear sodden rumpled
+> look.
+> 
+> When it was over, Alex rose, solemn and calm and meandered across
+> the deck to the bowsprite to take in the empty uncaring void before
+> him. 
+
+The atmosphere of most starsails only last a couple weeks before the
+recycled air starts to get stale, and then noxious, and finally
+unbreathable. Consequently they often have to 'refuel' at planets and
+moons with breathable air whenever they pass by.
+
+Inky's ship garden however has been keeping your air fresh and
+self-replenishing over the last couple of days. The crew are
+consequently well oxygenated, have been sleeping well, and lack the
+fatigue that most starsailors experience at this point in their
+journey.
+
+A pair of space gulls have apparently decided to hitch a ride on your
+ship, and can be found roosting on the mizzen mast when not hunting
+for space guppies. They have tried on occasion to steal food from
+some of the crew, with little consequence but an exasperated shooing
+away: space gulls are considered good luck, and they are never in any
+real danger from the crew.
+
+Keeping the starhelm well fed with various sundry emotions, you make
+good time, and are soon approaching the orbit of the green moon
+Selene. The moon itself is well out of the way, but your current path
+will take you through the Tears of Selene, a large asteroid cluster
+that trails along and fans out behind Selene as the moon orbits the
+planet. From the surface of the planet, it looks like a wide comet's
+tail made of stars of various sizes. From here, it looks like a sea
+of asteroids of different shapes and sizes.
+
+There are a couple of asteroids in the Tears large enough to support
+permanent life. Pirate outposts, mostly. Or other parties looking to
+escape the law---or someone or something else---for one reason or
+another.
+
+You slow the ship down well below cruising speed to carefully
+navigate the Tears. You spot the fabled and notorious Rock of Brawl
+in the distance, a sprawling cosmopolitan city ruled by Scarlet
+Darling the Pirate King. It covers every inch of both the top and
+bottom of a large, flat asteroid at the center of the cluster.
+
+Cautiously you eventually emerge on the other side of the Tears. You
+see a derelict starsail adrift on the other side of the asteroids. It
+is in the shape of a seahorse with a tucked head, a crest fanning
+from the top of its head down its back, and a long tail tightly
+curled toward its front. It lists to the side and drifts seemingly
+without power, except for some strobing emergency lights behind the
+seahorse's eyes, signaling distress.
+
+As you sail closer, you see what looks like a little old woman in a
+cloak and shawl on the helm waving and trying to hail you.
+
+WHAT DO YOU DO?

src/epistolary/00076.md

@@ -0,0 +1,127 @@
+---
+title: 00076
+created: Sun, 16 Jul 2023 14:49:38 -0600
+updated: Sun, 16 Jul 2023 14:49:38 -0600
+public: yes
+syndicated: yes
+---
+
+### 00076 {#00076}
+
+> As the ship grew closer and the derelict became more clear Alex
+> gripped the side of the ship. He could see the woman in the window
+> through his telescope, but wasn't sure what to make of the situation.
+> He assembled the members of the team to the deck to discuss further.
+> 
+> "It's clear that the ship is adrift. We should probably attempt to
+> help." Alex stated matter of factly. "However Marvelo has confided in
+> me his strongest suggestions that we not take the risk. We have a
+> clear goal. And the life of this one woman isn't work much in the
+> scheme of things. The world is at risk." Alex sighs, "He may
+> unfortunately have a point, but I believe we that if we choose to
+> stare into the abyss and make such a choice we become the monsters we
+> struggle against. And we always have a short." Alex's eyes dart to
+> Inky, the seem sad, ashamed. A fleeting statement of understanding is
+> exchanged between the two.
+> 
+> "I say we go, but with caution. If anyone wishes to join me, they may
+> do so. We need someone to remain with the ship to guard it. Marvelo
+> is still not up to excursions, but he's a crack shot with a blaster
+> and has agreed to watch from atop deck. Lee I need you on the deck
+> gun and look out. Should anything come towards us while we explore
+> the derelict, you have explicit permission to send them to hell. Use
+> your judgement."
+> 
+> "I've done some reconnaisance on the ship already, we can at least go
+> in knowing something about what we face. However anyone who comes
+> needs to come armed, with medical assets, and spare oxygen. We need
+> enough equipment to get in, face the unknown, and save this poor
+> woman's life."
+> 
+> (DM: Do I notice anything about the derelict upon inspecting it with
+> a telescope? Signs of attacks? Further what do scans reveal about the
+> derelict and the area around it?)
+
+~
+
+> Inky offers the ship's captain a small encouraging smile when he
+> looks over in their direction but otherwise remains silent during the
+> briefing. The unspoken agreement was that no one was going to let
+> their captain go in on his own despite any individual misgivings on
+> the matter, Fair One's chosen or not. The only question is who would
+> accompany him. This presents three problems.
+> 
+> Problem #1: Inky's packs and pod were already prepared before the
+> rumbles overhead about a starsail sighting sounded while they were
+> checking on the salt batteries and compost tea. It would be a pity to
+> not test the equipment before the mission landing. Get more distance
+> out of that deep discount.
+> 
+> Problem #2: his uncle would have Inky's fireball-roasted head on a
+> platter if he found out Inky was enjoying a freshly harvested
+> watercress salad back on the ship while his nephew faced great peril
+> at the hands of an evil old lady. 
+> 
+> Problem #3: the sysorcerer is the only obstacle between Inky and four
+> very angry, heavily armed agents. He is trying hard to be a good
+> captain and leader to them, that anyone could see. Better to be a
+> mobile tea lackey than an immovable target practice lackey.
+> 
+> To the sea dragon it is.
+
+You run a quick scan of the derelict starsail.
+
+It looks as though is has been heavily pierced and battered by
+artillery, boarded and looted, and left to drift. No doubt the work
+of some enterprising, opportunistic space pirates.
+
+The ship is broadcasting a weak SOS signal running a loop, but you
+pick up no other energy readings.
+
+There is a single lifeform reading on board. But you know from
+experience that such readings are notoriously unreliable in deep
+space where creatures of the vacuum often tread the thin line between
+life and death.
+
+You launch a jollyboat and cautiously approach the sea dragon. As
+your small craft enters its atmosphere, a putrid wind blows across
+you and its rank air fills your nostrils and lungs. The ship has been
+adrift for quite some time for its air to be this stale. Another
+short couple of weeks from now its air will become toxic to breathe.
+
+As you dock, the small woman rushes forward to greet you, hands
+flitting up and down like moths. Thin wisps of white hair peek around
+the edges of the shawl she has pulled up like a hood and wrapped
+around her shoulders. Her weathered taut skin gives her a gaunt,
+almost skeletal appearance. There is a painful looking crack running
+across her scalp, down her forehead, and over her face, splitting her
+features into two hemispheres. Her left eye is large and watery, and
+droops down her cheek like a runny egg yolk.
+
+"Oh thank you, thank you for stopping!" she wheezes in a raspy croak.
+"We were attacked by reavers and left to drift. We've been out here
+for weeks, and nobody would stop for us! Oh, we would have surely
+perished if you hadn't come by!"
+
+"Oh, yes." She notices you looking at her, and briefly attempts to
+hide her face behind a fluttering hand. "I have the Splitting
+Sickness, you see. It will be the end of me soon, I'm afraid. Nothing
+that can be done about it now."
+
+"My granddaughter and I were on our way to Lua," she continues,
+disappearing into the ship and beckoning you to follow. "Are you
+going that way by chance? I must deliver my granddaughter there. She
+is very sick, you see. And I believe the cure is to be found on the
+red moon."
+
+The bridge is dark, save for the dim red glow of the floor lights and
+the strobing emergency lights. The old woman stops before a long
+glass box on a raised platform, inside which lies a young woman, eyes
+closed and still as death, as though deeply asleep.
+
+The old woman looks up at you, her cursed eye gleaming wetly and
+unblinking in the low light. "Will you help us?"
+
+WHAT DO YOU DO
+
+

src/epistolary/00077.md

@@ -0,0 +1,88 @@
+---
+title: 00077
+created: Tue, 18 Jul 2023 17:50:29 -0600
+updated: Tue, 18 Jul 2023 17:50:29 -0600
+public: yes
+syndicated: yes
+---
+
+### 00077 {#00077}
+
+> Alex stands in the airlock watching the woman retreat. He briefly
+> gestures to the crew to hold their position while he grips his
+> weapon. "I'll be just a moment everyone. You know what to do"
+> 
+> Alex steps into the ship and begins to follow the woman. "Ma'am, what
+> happened here exactly. And how can we help your grand daughter once
+> we've reached Lua? We're happy to take her and assist, but we must
+> know how we can do that. I'd also like to file a report about the
+> attack you suffered, even if you think you're a forgone conclusion
+> we can help others. And admittedly, I'm no doctor, but are you
+> certain there's nothing that can be done about this splitting
+> sickness?"
+> 
+> A faint static on the radio "Boss, don't forget the cookies."
+> 
+> Alex sighs heavily, "my second in command would like to know if you
+> have any cookies as well. He's convinced helping little old ladies in
+> space somehow nets you home baked cookies."
+
+~
+
+> Inky gives the crew a quick sidelong glance, then shrugs internally
+> and hops lightly onto the derelict ship after Master Alex. They
+> follow behind at a short clip, half-registering the captain's voice
+> in conversation with the old lady and hiding a smile at the mention
+> of cookies over the radio. Angry agents or not, at least someone
+> has got their priorities straight.
+> 
+> From their position behind and to one side of the captain, they
+> surreptitiously run a scan on the woman for further injuries with a
+> portable infrared sensor, with particular attention to the crack
+> at her scalp. They listen to the old lady's breathing, as well as
+> for any sounds aboard the ship while the instrument takes
+> measurements of vital signs under the woman's skin, including
+> temperature, oxygen levels and presence of scar tissue. 
+> 
+> <!-- GM: what, if anything, do the measurements reveal about the
+> nature and progression of the old lady's Splitting Sickness? -->
+
+The old woman slowly shuffles away, back out to the battle-torn main
+deck, clicking and muttering to herself. "There is a grain that grows
+in the dusty red soil of Lua," she explains. "Its fruit can be
+processed and ground into a paste that hopefully will halt and even
+reverse my granddaughter's mysterious ailment."
+
+As she talks, Inky surreptitiously runs a scan on the woman for
+further injuries. She is wasting away, suffering from advanced stages
+of Splitting Sickness. Her organs have begun to turn to pulp and are
+rapidly failing. Her swollen heart beats irregularly. A thick
+puckered seam runs along its length, threatening to burst at any
+moment. It will be the end of her if the crack in her skull doesn't
+split open first.
+
+"It's genetic. Her sickness, I mean. At least, it's hereditary. That
+is, her mother died of it. Poor thing." She babbles away as she pokes
+at the rubble on the deck with shaky hands. "I keep her asleep in the
+suspension unit so it doesn't advance any further."
+
+"Ha! Here we are," she rasps, a lopsided grin scattered across her
+broken face. She jerkily hauls a metallic cube from behind a pile of
+rubble out onto the deck. She opens a panel on its side and pulls out
+a tray of slightly undercooked cookies. A solar oven. "Here you go,
+dearie." The tray trembles in her grasp as she holds it out to you.
+
+You hear gunfire coming from your own ship. You spin around to look.
+Marvelo has fired two signal flares up and away from the ship. The
+arc of the flares draw your eyes to the Tears of Selene in the
+distance.
+
+The carcass of an enormous space whale drifts forward from the
+asteroid field. It's a gruesome ship. A starsail cobbled together
+from the bones of dead space whales, sloppily painted with faded,
+patchy red and white stripes. Scrap and salvage and odd rusted pieces
+of metal adorn its sides along with humanoid and bestial remains.
+
+"Oh no," croaks the old woman. "Oh no, they're back. No no no no no."
+
+WHAT DO YOU DO

src/epistolary/index.md

@@ -6,7 +6,7 @@ public: yes
 ---
 ## Current Story
 
-Below are emails that I send to the mailing list.
+The current story arc.
 
 You can subscribe to these updates with the rss feed.
 

src/meta.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ created: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 updated: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-## Meta
+## Appendex B: Meta
 
 Welcome to Basement Quest!
 

src/notes.md

@@ -9,21 +9,24 @@ updated: Sun, 27 Nov 2022 02:24:11 -0700
 <summary>SPOILERS!!</summary>
 **THREADS**
 
-- Lady in Red ???
-- Beaker (and Cio) trailing the BANDits?
-- Benefactor wants Crystals to kill a god
-- Golden Iris wants Crystals to make a new god
-- Gnu Zealots (aligned with Golden Iris) seek to open source godhood
-- Sitopotnia has offered new corn-based bodies to the cyberplasm if they can deliver to her the Quintessence
-- Blavin double agent with Golden Iris
-- BATT wants to preserve the timeline
-- Felixe and Corraidhin
+- [ ] scissormen, huskies
+- [ ] Lady in Red ??? Tess, Piskin, Salvia ; Beaker (and Cio) trailing the BANDits?
+- [ ] Benefactor wants Crystals to kill a god
+- [ ] BATT wants to preserve the timeline
+- [x] kasutva, noodle head
+- [x] Felixe and Corraidhin, show up in the dreaming
+- [x] Golden Iris wants Crystals to make a new god
+- [x] Gnu Zealots (aligned with Golden Iris) seek to open source godhood
+- [x] Blavin double agent with Golden Iris
+- [x] dreamforms,
+- [x] gliftwirp the warpwefter
+- [x] Ephermeris is Konsu
+- [x] Sitopotnia has offered new corn-based bodies to the cyberplasm if they can deliver to her the Quintessence
 
 **NAMES AND NPCS**
 
 Upcoming NPCs and/or monsters
 
-- [ ] Jorunna Parva, sea bunny time lord <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jorunna_parva>
 - [ ] Hap-n-stance, moon rabbit: <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon_rabbit>
 - [ ] zai-ni (zine)
 - [ ] zeyeknee (zine)
@@ -35,6 +38,9 @@ Upcoming NPCs and/or monsters
 - [ ] Cyber Woman With Corn! (Sitopotnia?) -- <https://www.shutterstock.com/search/cyber-woman-with-corn>
 - [ ] oracle - <https://lambdacreate.com/paste/midjourney.png>
 - [ ] corn smut? - <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corn_smut>
+- [ ] Jorunna Parva, sea bunny time lord <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jorunna_parva>
+- [x] Cocopita, Gourd Witch
+- [x] Calabazh, granddaughter of the Gourd Witch
 - [x] harrowkrake
 - [x] time swallows: It is a common misconception that barn swallows are the most widespread species of swallow. That distinction belongs to the *time* swallow. Although---if you're lucky---you'll never actually see one.
 - [x] gnu zealots
@@ -65,10 +71,92 @@ todo:
 - [ ] MidJourney omen: priestly blood, demon
 - [ ] palindromes: taco cat, reward drawer, tin unit, lap pal, evil olive
 - [ ] The Benefactor is Nullar
-- [ ] Blavin is a secret agent, working for the Golden Iris, a secret society that wants to 'create balance' by creating a fourth god
 - [ ] Nullar got tired of being a god and wanted to die, and Neddas agreed to help him. Shit went bad and turned Liandt to stone, and Nullar's leg to stone. Now Nullar is trying to gather the Ginnarak crystals to assemble the *God Slayer* to attempt once more to end his own life.
+- [x] Blavin is a secret agent, working for the Golden Iris, a secret society that wants to 'create balance' by creating a fourth god
 - [x] the BAND (Birds Are Not Dinosaurs) and the BATT (Birds Are Time Travelers) conspiracy
 - [x] ・゜゜・。。・゜゜\_o< QUACK!
 - [x] The gang has a rival: the gophers of Retrieval Team 70
+
+**CALENDAR**
+
+Time in Basmentaria is reckoned by the moons: green Selene, dark Moonmoon, and red Lua.
+
+The period of Moonmoon's revolution is 10 days.
+This is a week, or a *tenday*.
+
+The period of Selene's revolution is 30 days (3 weeks).
+This is a month.
+
+The period of Lua's revolution is 360 days (12 months).
+This is a year.
+
+Days of the week are divided into godsdays (Nedsday, Nullday, Lianday), moondays (Monday, Selday, Luday), earthdays (Primeday, Agenday, Ginnday), and 'Tensday'.
+
+| Day of Month | Day of Week | Day Name | Moonmoon        | Selene          |
+|--------------|-------------|----------|-----------------|-----------------|
+| 1            | 1           | Nedsday  | 1st quarter     | 1st quarter     |
+| 2            | 2           | Nullday  | waxing gibbous  | 1st quarter     |
+| 3            | 3           | Lianday  | full            | 1st quarter     |
+| 4            | 4           | Monday   | full            | 1st quarter     |
+| 5            | 5           | Selday   | waning gibbous  | waxing gibbous  |
+| 6            | 6           | Luday    | 3rd quarter     | waxing gibbous  |
+| 7            | 7           | Primeday | waning crescent | waxing gibbous  |
+| 8            | 8           | Agenday  | new             | full            |
+| 9            | 9           | Ginnday  | new             | full            |
+| 10           | 10          | Tensday  | waxing crescent | full            |
+| 11           | 1           | Nedsday  | 1st quarter     | full            |
+| 12           | 2           | Nullday  | waxing gibbous  | full            |
+| 13           | 3           | Lianday  | full            | waning gibbous  |
+| 14           | 4           | Monday   | full            | waning gibbous  |
+| 15           | 5           | Selday   | waning gibbous  | waning gibbous  |
+| 16           | 6           | Luday    | 3rd quarter     | 3rd quarter     |
+| 17           | 7           | Primeday | waning crescent | 3rd quarter     |
+| 18           | 8           | Agenday  | new             | 3rd quarter     |
+| 19           | 9           | Ginnday  | new             | 3rd quarter     |
+| 20           | 10          | Tensday  | waxing crescent | waning crescent |
+| 21           | 1           | Nedsday  | 1st quarter     | waning crescent |
+| 22           | 2           | Nullday  | waxing gibbous  | waning crescent |
+| 23           | 3           | Lianday  | full            | new             |
+| 24           | 4           | Monday   | full            | new             |
+| 25           | 5           | Selday   | waning gibbous  | new             |
+| 26           | 6           | Luday    | 3rd quarter     | new             |
+| 27           | 7           | Primeday | waning crescent | new             |
+| 28           | 8           | Agenday  | new             | waxing crescent |
+| 29           | 9           | Ginnday  | new             | waxing crescent |
+| 30           | 10          | Tensday  | waxing crescent | waxing crescent |
+
+
+The year is defined by Lua, the Red Lady's phases:
+
+| #    | Name            | Lua             | Season |
+|------|-----------------|-----------------|--------|
+| 1    | Unare           | 1ST quarter     | Spring |
+| 2    | Tornare         | waxing gibbous  | Spring |
+| 3    | Ternare         | waxing gibbous  | Spring |
+| 4    | Qatthai         | FULL            | Summer |
+| 5    | Pethai          | waning gibbous  | Summer |
+| 6    | Sestoren        | waning gibbous  | Summer |
+| 7    | Hestur          | 3RD quarter     | Autumn |
+| 8    | Oktober         | waning crescent | Autumn |
+| 9    | Nongogl         | waning crescent | Autumn |
+| 10   | Dekgogl         | NEW             | Winter |
+| 11   | Elfswel         | waxing crescent | Winter |
+| 12   | Dozwel          | waxing crescent | Winter |
+
+There are Seasonal Holidays:
+
+1. Candlemas: Tornare 2. Thaw, start of spring, groundhog day, ewes milk
+2. Oistar: Ternare 15. Spring Equinox, Easter, etc
+3. Beltine: Pethai 1. May Day, Bonefire Festival, Wickerman
+4. Midsomer: Pethai 15. Summer Solstice, long days short nights
+5. Loafmas: Oktober 1. First harvest, bread festival
+6. Ap Modron: Oktober 15. Autumn equinox, Second Harvest, abundance, preparation for winter
+7. Jackoween: Dekgogl 24. Halloween! Witchery and devilry, Third Harvest, Day of the Dead
+8. Yuletide: Dozwel 15. Winter solstice, midwinter, saturnalia, holly and ivy
+
+The Common Era (CE) is defined by the end of the Artifice Wars, and the time before it is referred to as Before Common Era (BCE).
+
+It is currently year 1440 of the common era.
+
 </details>
 

src/paths/duckterror.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ created: Sat, 26 Nov 2022 13:20:16 -0700
 updated: Sat, 26 Nov 2022 13:20:19 -0700
 public: yes
 ---
-### Path of the Duck Outlaw
+#### Path of the Duck Outlaw
 
 When Basket Duck is against the law, only outlaws will play Basket Duck.
 And not even the angels will weep when this path eventually leads to your inevitable death.

src/paths/murderhobo.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ created: Wed, 09 Nov 2022 11:14:04 -0700
 updated: Wed, 09 Nov 2022 11:14:09 -0700
 public: yes
 ---
-### Path of the Murderhobo
+#### Path of the Murderhobo
 
 You are an angel of death. A dirty, homeless angel of death with no conscious or qualms with killing the innocent.
 

src/paths/paths.md

@@ -4,19 +4,31 @@ created: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 12:57:57 -0600
 updated: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 12:57:57 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-## Paths and Templates
+### Paths and Skills
 
-Templates are skills and abilities, organized into *paths*, that players can discover and unlock through play as their characters learn and discover more about the world.
+- [About Paths](#about-paths)
+- [Path of the Retriever](#path-of-the-retriever)
+- [Path of the Tasseomancer](#path-of-the-tasseomancer)
+- [Path of the Were-Hare](#path-of-the-were-hare)
+- [Path of the Soulsword](#path-of-the-soulsword)
+- [Path of the Duck Outlaw](#path-of-the-duck-outlaw)
+- [Path of the Murderhobo](#path-of-the-murderhobo)
+- [Path of the Sarong-fu Master](#path-of-the-sarong-fu-master)
 
-They are the lambda calculus answer to "classes" in traditional ttrpgs: a kind of anonymous class that everybody has access to, that you can combine and mix and match.
+
+#### About Paths
+
+Paths are a kind of skill ladder that players can discover and unlock through play as their characters learn more about the world by living in it.
+
+They are the lambda calculus answer to "classes" in traditional ttrpgs: a kind of anonymous class that everybody has access to, that you can combine and mix and match to your heart's content. They are an all-you-can-eat buffet of skills and talents.
 
 How it works:
 
-Each path has a bunch of templates.
+Each path has a bunch of skills.
 
-Every template starts with a rank (a number), followed by a name (in bold), a trigger (in parenthesis), and finally a description.
+Every skill starts with a rank (a number), followed by a name (in bold), a trigger (in parenthesis), and finally a description.
 
-You can unlock any template by satisfying its trigger in-game, provided you have already unlocked at least one template of every rank below it, in the same path. (The exceptions are templates of rank zero, which are the entry level templates for each path, and do not have such a requirement.)
+You can unlock any skill by satisfying its trigger in-game, provided you have already unlocked at least one skill of every rank below it, in the same path. (The exceptions are skills of rank zero, which are the entry level skills for each path, and do not have such a requirement.)
 
 Example:
 
@@ -24,4 +36,4 @@ Example:
 >
 > - 0. **Favored Foe** (Slay 100 goblins): You are now an expert when facing this foe. From now on when attacking a goblin, a roll of 5 - 6 is considered a critical success. 4 - 5 is a success. And 1 - 3 is a mixed success.
 
-The path is "Path of the Goblin Slayer". The rank of the first template is 0, so there are no prerequisites. (If it had been, say, 2, then you would need to have unlocked a template of rank 1 and of rank 0 in the same path before unlocking this one.) The name is "Favored Foe". The trigger is "Slay 100 goblins". And the perk is detailed in the description.
+The path is "Path of the Goblin Slayer". The rank of the first skill is 0, so there are no prerequisites. (If it had been, say, 2, then you would need to have unlocked a skill of rank 1 and of rank 0 in the same path before unlocking this one.) The name is "Favored Foe". The trigger is "Slay 100 goblins". And the perk is detailed in the description.

src/paths/retriever.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ created: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 12:57:57 -0600
 updated: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 15:40:13 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-### Path of the Retriever
+#### Path of the Retriever
 
 The Perks of the Job
 

src/paths/sarongfu.md

@@ -0,0 +1,43 @@
+---
+title: sarongfu master
+created: Fri, 20 Jan 2023 14:05:43 -0700
+updated: Fri, 20 Jan 2023 14:05:43 -0700
+public: yes
+---
+#### Path of the Sarong-fu Master
+
+You are a master of soft, pliaable weapons.
+
+- 0. **Sarong-fu** (Commit yourself to the Way of Sarong-fu): Vow to carry and use no weapons, other than your sarong or sash.
+
+- 1. **Light-footed** (Wear no armor and carry no shield): You are agile, nimble, and light of foot. You are exceptionally good at dodging attacks, and are skilled at sneaking.
+
+- 1. **Whip** (Defeat a foe with nothing but your sash): You can twist a piece of cloth into a dangerous whip that you are proficient with.
+
+- 1. **Entangle** (Fight dirty): You can use your sash or another cloth to trip up your foe.
+
+- 1. **Bag** (Mug an unsuspecting victim): Swiftly slip your sash over a foe's head and cinch it, leaving them blind, confused, and disoriented.
+
+- 1. **Rope** (Scale a building and climb in through a 2nd story window): Twist a cloth into a handy rope. When you're done with it, you can un-twist it back into cloth.
+
+- 2. **Starch** (Do not bathe or wash your sash for 90 days): You can stiffen cloth for extra protection when worn, or to create hard constructs.
+
+- 2. **Deflect** (Win hand-to-hand combat with your hands bound together): Grip one end of your sash in either hand. When your foe attacks, you can use your sash to deflect the blow.
+
+- 2. **Bind** (Win a shoe tying contest three times): Swiftly tie two objects together. Such as a person's wrists.
+
+- 2. **Mending**: (Wear the same garment until it falls apart): You can repair torn or ripped fabric with a touch.
+
+- 3. **Glide** (Survive a daring leap): You can use a large square cloth to safely parachute down from tall heights, or to glide over a long distance. 
+
+- 3. **Sewing** (Win 3 sewing bees): You can fashion fabric into different shapes and garments and back with a touch.
+
+- 3. **Disarm** (Successfully deflect 20 attacks): When you **deflect** an attack, you can attempt to disarm your foe by wrapping your sash around their weapon and yanking.
+
+- 4. **Garrote** (Strangle a man to death): With a thin piece of cloth, you can silently strangle your foe without leaving a trace
+
+- 5. **Advanced Bag** (Bag 20 victims): When you **bag** somebody and cinch the bag, you can choose to cut off their air, causing them to suffocate, leading to unconsciousness or even death.
+
+- 5. **Knot** (Learn every knot in the Encyclopedia of Knots): You can tie a knot that cannot be untied except for another Sarong-fu Master of your level. Similarly, you can swiftly untie any knot, save for one tied by a Sarong-fu Master whose level exceeds your own.
+
+- 6. **Transcendent Sarong-fu** (Fashion a small cloth puppet. Keep it hidden on your person for 90 days. Speak to it every night.): Fabric obeys your spoken command.

src/paths/soulsword.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ created: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 12:57:57 -0600
 updated: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 12:57:57 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-### Path of the Soulsword
+#### Path of the Soulsword
 
 You have a unique bond with a sentient sword
 

src/paths/tasseomancer.md

@@ -4,7 +4,9 @@ created: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 12:57:57 -0600
 updated: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 12:57:57 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-### Path of the Tasseomancer
+#### Path of the Tasseomancer
+
+If that's your cup of tea...
 
 - 0. **Reading** (Obtain a magical tea set): You can see omens in the tea leaves left after drinking tea from your magic tea set. 
 

src/paths/werehare.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ created: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 12:57:57 -0600
 updated: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 12:57:57 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-### Path of the Were-Hare
+#### Path of the Were-Hare
 
 You have been cursed to wander this world; half man, half rabbit.
 

src/setting/cosmology.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ created: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 updated: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-## Cosmology
+### Cosmology
 
 In a fantasy setting where there objectively are deities who walk the earth and interact with humans, "atheism" is sometimes erroneously used to signify an indifference to the gods. This is more accurately called "transtheism":
 

src/setting/geography.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ created: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 updated: Wed, 05 Oct 2022 14:07:44 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-## Geography
+### Geography
 
 <details><summary>Map</summary>![Map](map.webp)</details>
 

src/setting/history.md

@@ -4,7 +4,7 @@ created: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 updated: Tue, 26 Jul 2022 20:32:23 -0600
 public: yes
 ---
-## History
+### History
 
 In the days of old, the Artifice Wars ravaged the lands of Basmentaria.
 

src/setting/index.md

@@ -0,0 +1,10 @@
+---
+title: setting
+created: Mon, 13 Feb 2023 13:22:32 -0700
+updated: Mon, 13 Feb 2023 13:22:32 -0700
+public: yes
+---
+## Appendix D: Setting
+
+The world of Basmentaria
+